#i forgot any other tags i should add oops

[marshallpupfan]

Marshall Merchandise Update!

I sometimes wonder if I should number these merchandise update posts, but I'm honestly not sure how many I've made since I first started doing this. Let's just pick a number at random and say it's #23.

In any case, I managed to add a few new items to my Marshall collection today. Nothing too big, but they're still pretty cool, imo.

Okay, so... I made a post last night about how I was lamenting the lack of holiday-themed PAW Patrol merchandise this year. Well, as it turns out... I'm a dummy, because I completely forgot about buying this thing a few weeks ago. I didn't show it off at the time because I wanted to have a few other items to show off with it.

Actually, when I first seen this thing on Ebay, I thought it was an older ornament. I'd never seen one like it before, and when I Google-searched it, the results came up empty. I thought I found another rare ornament, so I quickly snatched it up! You can imagine my surprise when I got it and, upon inspecting the tag... it said "2023". Oops. lol

In any case, this ornament's from "Primark". The tag even says it's hand-painted (you can kind of tell, honestly). Strangely, it's not listed on their site, unless I'm just looking in the wrong place. Only one has appeared on Ebay so far, and I haven't seen it anywhere else at all yet. Well, there's some store out there selling them, but I know not which one... all I know is I'm happy to have one. :)

Next, a "Slow-Rise Squishies". They also come in Chase and Skye, too.

Unless I'm mistaken, you can't find these in the USA right now. Yup, this is another imported item! From Canada, in fact (thankfully, the shipping was low). Admittedly, the likeness is pretty spot on, not to mention it's bigger than I expected it to be. I think it's pretty cool!

Last.... er... this thing. It's just something I randomly found on Ebay one day, so I decided to bid on it. Admittedly, it's also bigger than I expected (around 4 inches tall - the Squishies is slightly taller, at 4.75). Sadly, it's not in the best condition, but I can't say I'm too surprised. I'm honestly lucky to find any previously-owned item in good condition, especially given the age group these toys are meant for.

I'm not sure, but I suspect this thing may not be official. Typically, each item, even if it's a small piece in a set, has some sort of number or information on it. I've posted a few examples above, just to show you what I mean. This item, however, doesn't seem to have any such thing. Maybe there are exceptions, but chances are, it's an imitation you can find cheap somewhere. Despite that, I think it matches the character close enough, so I've no problem including it in my collection. It wouldn't be the first counterfeit in there (and likely won't be the last, since I still have my eye on a few I'd like to buy someday).

That's all for now! I can't say if I'll find too much more by the end of the year, so this'll probably be it for 2023. Chances are, the next items I show off will be the Jungle Pups toys, unless something unexpected pops up between then. Maybe I'll get lucky and find some of those Canadian-exclusive items... but I wouldn't bet money on that. lol

[elsweetheart]

Hey homie is love ur writing but I don’t want to accidentally request some thing not allowed so do you have any rules?? 🫶🏼 

hey! oops i totally forgot to write a rules list thing so here it is, i’ll have it linked on my pinned too so it’s easily accessible from now on. i may add to it over time 💕

kitties rules 🎀

general rules

no hate, bigotry, or bashing what / how i write. this should go without saying.

do not spam my ask box if i haven’t answered your request. i’m either getting round to it, i don’t have inspiration for it, or i don’t like it. additionally, if i do not like your request i will just delete it. nothing against you, but i do not have to feel pressured on my own blog.

eating disorder accounts DO NOT INTERACT WITH ME. i have to click most profiles to check if there’s an age or some kind of idea of age on your page and i find that content triggering and shouldn’t have to see it. do not follow, do not like, do not reblog.

i am happy to talk to anyone and give out advice, however please do not bring me any super heavy / trauma related rants. tumblr writers are not therapists. i sympathise with you but i must set a boundary and i cannot help you.

only claim an emoji anon if you’re actually going to send me asks! the amount of times someone asks to claim an emoji for their anons but then never message me again has just gotten too much sadly. additionally, please don’t just send ‘can i claim *insert emoji* anon?’ you can claim it if you say something else or converse with me in the ask for the reasons above !!

do not slander pillow princesses / stone tops.

no abby bashing on my page. block my abby tag, or leave. i really don’t care! just don’t bring it here.

no drama, gossiping about other blogs, or comparing my writing to another writers. i’m not that kinda blog and i’m not entertaining rudeness. unless of course, you are making me aware of another writer stealing / being overtly problematic so that i can quietly unfollow etc.

do not bash my interpretations of the characters i write for. whilst you might not agree, as i could make tweaks to what is canonically true about them (e.g: the version of ellie i write for is 5’7) these are my personal interpretations and headcanons which are not up for argument.

do not repost my work, do not translate my work, and please do not copy my writing and just tweak it so it’s for another character. especially if it’s just another tlou character because more times than not i will see it and i find it kind of disrespectful.

if you don’t have your age in your bio, i’m not writing your request or even replying to you. simple as that, i’ve asked you to respect my rules so if you don’t i’m not writing for you!

please be kind to me! i love how enthusiastic you all are but please remember to be polite as i am a person and not a writing machine. if you’d like to request something in my ask box, please do not say something like “i need more ____ now!!” as i will probably just delete it unfortunately!

additionally to this, if i say i’m not writing a part 2 to a fic, most of the time i’m going to stick by that. i appreciate you enjoyed the first one a lot, and i don’t wanna sound mean — but begging me to write a part 2 when i already said no is just gonna irritate me. sorry!

writing rules (tw)

i will not write about:

men, this is a safe space for wlw / nblw

sexual assault / r*pe. again, this is a safe space.

additional to this i will not write cnc. not bashing anyone who’s into it, but i am uncomfortable with it.

self harm / suicide

i will not write for reader with a mental illness / disability that i do not have. i have adhd, so i am happy to write for adhd reader but that is all. i want everyone to feel included and validated of course but i am scared of including stereotypes / misinformation and doing more harm than good! also i just don’t know how to write it lol! i don’t really want to write for body issues / insecurities for the most part either.

ddlg / age play. i am comfortable to write daddy/mommy but not as an entire lifestyle.

i don’t write a whole lot of angst with no resolution / happy ending. absolutely no hate to people who write that, i just get sad easily and don’t want to put myself through that lol!

i don’t write dom!reader im sorry! there are lots of fantastic, talented blogs out there that do but as i am a submissive pillow princess i wouldn’t even know where to begin and writing it just wouldn’t be pleasurable for me!

i will add to this list, but basically if i am not comfortable writing something i just will not!

let’s all just have safe respectful fun ! 💕

[eon-of-axolotls]

i forgot! to make an intro post when i first made my account! so i am doing that now instead of putting it off again and forgetting for another six months. oops

i go by eon! she/they, whatever works.

i keep meaning to post art stuff (mostly just doodles or polymer clay stuff) and keep forgetting to. what I have managed to upload is all under #art.

i also post bugs i find when i remember. this should hopefully all be tagged under #bugs.

as a result of me forgetting/putting off actually posting stuff. my blog is mostly reblogs right now. i am going to make an account for purely art stuff at some point when I figure out a name!

i do not frequently add tags under reblogs because it is almost 100% always real social anxiety hours sorry about that. pretend i added nice funny tags if i reblogged something.

asks exist if you want to do that? that is fine and cool!

uhhhhhhhyyyyggg what else

yeah I like BUGS and DRAGONS and CREATURES

i have ocs but posting about them is soso scary. sorry. i will do it one day

other fandoms I am in (?) (does it count as being in a fandom when you are not really doing any interacting. whatever) are Flight Rising (user Is EonOfAxolotls there), splatoon, monster hunter, kirby, pokemon, uhhhhh. probably a lot of other stuff but i forgor.

sorry for the long post. here's a jumping spider i found the other day he was very cool

[nobleriver]

The thing with gifs is that they're closer up, high quality, and (maybe it's just me?) slower than the actual episode. I'm looking at some gifsets and I can see every tiny emotion hitting a character. More specifically, I was looking at that one scene in THORS where she says the Doctor is "not someone special". But like, you can see she's having mixed feelings, you can actually see her hiding the damage. It's something I don't really notice, well I do "notice" it, but I can't actually see what's happening. It makes the scene all the more fun (and emotional) to watch.

I don't know what was the point in saying this, but oh well, random thoughts.

It's not just you. The gifset actually IS slower than the episode. At least, my gifsets are. In PS, the frame rate should be between .04-.06 depending on your PS, with .05 usually being the actual frame rate to match the episodes. But I always put mine at .06 because .05 is just too fast for me. Even if .05 is the actual frame rate, the point of my gifsets is to let people SEE the scene afresh, to spot a detail they never saw before. I slow the scenes down, just by a tenth of a second. And sometimes, I push it even further and make the frame rate .07 or if it's a really short moment, like less than 30 frames (and no one is talking), I might do .08 to make the moment stretch longer.

Often my gifsets are born from a single gif, a lingering look, or a line of dialogue. I just want to capture that, blow it up, and shout hey come look at this! Have you noticed this before? What do you think of this? And then, when I sit down and grab the screencaps, I think what's the best way to capture that feeling, that thought, in a gifset? How can I get someone to pause and take a look closer?

Sometimes, I push the color of the set until it breaks. Then, I start over, and push it again. Other times, I use the crop tool. The crop tool not only blows up the image, but it allows me to cut out any distractions in the periphery. Cropped gifs literally narrow the viewer's focus. And sometimes, if a gif is not strong enough on its own, I buttress it with other gifs. Like with my Doctorriver "That's nice. But I'm married" gifset. 11's quote was the point of the gifset, but imo, it wasn't strong enough to stand on its own.

The reason that line is so powerful is because of the context. It's an unflinching, unapologetic testament; it's a declaration that this marriage, that River, is real to him. So how might I get someone to see that scene afresh? In this case, I used other scenes to amplify the impact of what he stated, scenes from their marriage in which he couldn't get enough of her; moments when he was eager to please her. And by adding those scenes, that's what I drew more attention to. I tightened the focus through parallels and visual cues. And based on the comments in the tags, it worked. People had only expected to see his dialogue, but by adding the other scenes, the set turned into something unique, something they hadn't seen before. And that's the beauty of gif making. Funnily enough, that gifset is unintentionally structured like an essay; you have the intro, the evidence, and the concluding statement. But it's the evidence in the middle that makes the conclusion hit so hard.

P.S. I actually messed up that THORS gifset. That scene has always caught my attention, because we as the viewer know she's lying, but the Doctor thinks she's telling the truth. So the scene finishes with these two heartbroken time travelers who are desperately in love with each other but fear their entire marriage is a lie. I meant to pair it with Moffat's quote to that effect, but I forgot to add it. Oops. Oh well, mistakes happen, and now I get to do a THORS gifset again, this time with even more scenes. :D

[maddieinwonder]

A Lesson In Romance #7: False Start

Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: Just a lot of awkward vibes hahaha

Word Count: 1.7k

Plot: Reader keeps getting caught in rom-com situations with Spencer Reid. This time, they try to confess their feelings.

A/N: I didn’t actually manage to include the definition of a False Start in the chapter itself, so I’ll add it at the end. No spoilers for now!

Masterlist | All chapters here!

-----------

It took you 24 hours to decide that you were going to do something about your feelings for the good doctor. Pretty quick, considering you were a living, breathing rom-com cynic. But as ancient Greek philosopher, Heraclitus, once said: "The only constant in life is change".

Specifically, change happened after you woke up in your cute co-worker and dear friend's arms and you wanted nothing more than to get back into them as fast as possible.

But by the universal laws of working in the BAU, catching a break seemed to be the hardest when you actually wanted one.

Firstly, it was like every serial killer in the country decided to cancel their vacations simultaneously, swamping the team with urgent case after case. At this point, you were more familiar with the couch on the jet than your bed at home, and everyone was feeling the strain.

Secondly, if you weren't sleeping, you were usually out in the field chasing unsubs with Derek or Rossi. You had stopped holding out hope for being paired with Spencer — on account of your areas of specialty overlapping too much, and Hotch not being the type of leader to waste his resources — and as a result:

Thirdly, getting even ten minutes alone with the genius became an impossible task, and not for lack of trying either. At the start of the month, the two of you had tried to adapt your breakfast ritual to the road, but it always got interrupted mid-coffee order or even at the ding of the lift. Not that you and Spencer stopped trying, no, but your patience was wearing thin.

So you did something you hadn't done since you submitted your application to join the BAU — you prayed for a chance.

Because every day that you didn't admit your feelings to the doctor was another day fighting the compulsion to tell somebody else about them, and god only knows what a room full of profilers (and one nosy tech analyst) would do with that kind of information.

Then, out of the blue, the door of opportunity opened.

After two weeks of straight travel, the team had earned a well-deserved one night’s rest in your own beds before dealing with a local case, bright and early tomorrow morning. And since your flight landed at 2am and all the trains had stopped by then, this gave you the perfect shot to execute your plan.

Unfortunately, you forgot to take into account the most important factor — your nerves.

It didn't help that Derek had wolf-whistled in the carpark as the two of you walked off in the same direction, nor that Spencer immediately put your favourite album into the CD player out of instinct; an overly domestic action that made your heart beat even faster.

But it was when you arrived in front of his apartment building that you felt the worst of it. As you tried to summon the right words to your lips, your heart hammered in your chest and your thoughts jumbled themselves into nonsense.

"Are you ok?" Spencer asked, snapping you out of your anxious spiral instantly. "You don't look so well."

"I-I'm fine." Your fingers twitched nervously.

"Doesn't seem like it." He looked down at your hands, and you cursed your subconscious brain for giving you away. Then, he placed a hand over yours and your heart stopped.

"You're not alright, that's for sure, but it seems like it's just sleep deprivation." He assessed, bending slightly to look at your face. "You can't drive in this state. Do you want to come in?”

Your head snapped up to meet his gaze, ready to protest, but Spencer beat you to it. "Let’s go. You wanted to talk about something, right?" He called out, already one foot out of the car.

Before you could realise what was happening, you found yourself sitting on Spencer's couch holding a warm cup of tea.

This was the first time you were in his apartment. Yet, it was exactly what you thought it'd be like. Every wall was lined with bookshelves, filled to max capacity with books of every topic imaginable from neuroscience to philosophy. Those that didn't make it to the shelves were found in random stacks around his apartment, standing out against his forest green walls.

"Did you know that chamomile tea is a natural remedy for insomnia? In fact, it is commonly regarded as a mild tranquilizer. It's calming effects may be attributed to the antioxidant apigenin, which binds to specific receptors in your brain that initiate sleep and reduce anxiety." He explained, walking over with his own mug.

"I actually did know that." You smiled. The tea seemed to work its magic because you did feel relaxed, and you must have looked it too, because the worried frown disappeared off Spencer's face.

"Didn't know you were a tea person." You commented lightly, blowing the steam from your mug.

"There's a lot of things you don't know about me." He replied mysteriously, and you raised your eyebrows.

Spencer's apartment was too quiet, no rumbling fridge or quiet radio playing in the background to make your awkward silence any less pronounced. It was then that you noticed he didn't have a TV. Somehow this fact didn't surprise you very much.

"You... you wanted to talk to me about something?" He broke the silence, looking down at the hot tea swirling in his mug.

Right. You were here to talk about your feelings. Your face flushed as you tried to summon your willpower, again.

"I wanted to tell you something—" You began shakily. "But before that, I just want to preface, we can ignore this entire thing if you don't agree. I mean, I really enjoy our friendship as it is, and I wouldn't want to do anything to affect tha—"

"Wait." Spencer interrupted urgently, before catching himself. "Sorry, um, before that, can I say something?"

"Um, ok, shoot." You replied meekly, trying to hide your relief behind a long sip of tea. There was a pause as he gathered his thoughts, and you might have been seeing things, but he looked almost... nervous? 

"The day we met, I calculated the probability of meeting somebody that shared my exact coffee order and the result was almost one in a million.” He finally spoke, lifting his head to meet your gaze. “That probability decreased when I factored in working together, sharing the same interests, and... and how I enjoyed spending time with you more than with anybody else."

Spencer cleared his throat, a blush coming onto his cheeks.

"Ever since then... my life just started making sense. I know I’m a scientist, not a poet, and I could tell you all the statistics about relationships in the world, but when it comes to you...”

His cheeks were crimson now, as he ran his fingers through his hair. You had a feeling yours looked the same.

"I guess, what I'm trying to say, is that I think you're beautiful and smart, and I have no idea what you see in me, but I'd really—"

Suddenly, both your phones buzzed violently against his coffee table, jolting you out of the moment. You leaned over in a trained motion, only to see exactly what you expected:

Garcia: No rest for the wicked, crime fighters. Conference room in 30.

Penny: No rest for the wicked, crime fighters. Conference room in 30.

You let out a sigh you didn't realise you were holding, and Spencer looked over at you, doe-eyed and nervous.

“The case?" He asked quietly.

There was a silence filled with words unsaid. "We should go." He said finally. "If we leave now, we can still make it on time."

You only nodded in response, more out of duty than desire, and gulped down the rest of your tea. The thought of what he was about to say burned down your throat.

Driving away from Spencer’s apartment was torturous. The doctor hadn’t said anything to you since he entered the car, only fiddling with his bag as he looked out the window. It was too dark to read his expression, but you wondered if he could still hear the way he called you “beautiful”, or whether the moment had already dissolved into the space between you.

Luckily, you didn’t need to wait long for an answer, as Spencer tugged on your sleeve before you exited the carpark, his face scrunched in worry.

"I really didn't mean for that to be so... weird. Can we talk about this again after the case?" He asked softly, and despite every semblance of logic left in your brain, you couldn’t stop the hope from blooming in your chest and you smiled.

That was when Spencer did something completely uncharacteristic. (You didn't know this at the time, but it was something that you would tease him about for a long time after.)

In one fluid movement, the doctor pulled you into a tight hug that elicited a squeak from you, but it only took a second for the initial shock to wear off before you relaxed completely into his warm touch. He took that as a sign to continue, burying his head into your shoulder and letting out a content sigh.

Unlike waking up to your bodies intertwined, nothing about this was a mistake. Not the way his fingers stroked your back peacefully, nor the way his curly hair tickled your cheek. You felt the stress of the past two weeks melt away in his embrace, and so did any coherent thought, except one: normal friends didn't hug each other like this.

Later when the two of you finally entered the conference room, miraculously still on time, nobody commented on the smiles plastered on your faces but everybody could tell. They were profilers after all.

But for the first time in awhile, you were just too happy to care.

-----------

Tag List:

@blue-space-porgs @nobutalsoyes @lady-loves-a-lot @queen-flower @oops-all-ajs @spottedzebrasinpartyhats @agentcarterisgay @totalmess191 @sapphic-prentiss @mellowalieneggsknight || @averyhotchner @amesandpineapples @willowrose99

Definition of a False Start here

[sapphicspren]

hi! i’m currently reading the stormlight archive for the first time (i’m on the way of kings) and i was wondering if you have any blog recommendations? i don’t mind spoilers at all i just wanna see cute art and fun memes/posts 🥺 you totally don’t have to respond though! have a good day/afternoon/evening 🌼

oop, I completely forgot you sent this ask, sorry about that... anyway YES, here are some blogs I follow that maybe you should too!

*disclaimers* if you haven't read other books in the cosmere, some of these blogs are general cosmere blogs and might be confusing and/or spoilery. also some of these blogs are cosmere/Stormlight specific and some have that mixed in with other content.

https://lamaery.tumblr.com/ is an absolute gift to the fandom and produces a bonkers amount of fantastic art. definitely check her stuff out if you haven't!

https://cosmerememes.tumblr.com/ as the url suggests, it's memes. uses RoW spoiler tags, so that's cool

https://jasnah-kholin.tumblr.com/ reblogs a lot of good art

https://dragontrill.tumblr.com/ just recently started doing lots of Stormlight art and it's amazing, she is a blessing

https://lilaeleaf.tumblr.com/ ADORABLE stormlight art and a lot of other good art as well

https://cosmere-cosmeme.tumblr.com/ incorrect quotes and memes and all that good stuff

https://jazzy-kandra.tumblr.com/ some amazing original art

https://aieika.tumblr.com/ reblogs excellent art (also a great fic writer if you're into that)

https://viridializard.tumblr.com/ is one of my favorite cosmere artists, you might need to scroll but it is so worth it

https://isdalinarhot.tumblr.com/ good stuff

https://felcandy.tumblr.com/ awesome cosmere artist!!

https://adolinsfavoritejacket.tumblr.com/ the vibes of this blog are just excellent

https://stivya.tumblr.com/ adorable art

https://cosmereplay.tumblr.com/ mostly reblogs art

I'm typing this up very late at night and definitely missed some blogs, might add on later but I hope this helps. welcome to the fandom!!!

[mrsalwayswrite]

To Call Forth Love- Chapter 4

So I planned for this chapter and the next to originally be one but as I started writing it, the words kept flowing and oops....now its really long. So I decided to split it. This means that I’m pretty much done with the next chapter so I’ll be able to get it out in a few days! Yay!

Also, Ivar is pretty manipulative in this chapter. Someone made a comment in the last chapter that I want to acknowledge. Going forward this is kind of a theme but I just want to put that warning statement- if this is triggering for you, please read with caution. There is nothing explicit or graphic but its still manipulation. 

Words:4000

Warnings: swearing, manipulation

Tag List: @youbloodymadgenius​

Series Masterlist

Sitting in the office at work, Kari sipped on her smoothie as she plugged in numbers for an inventory order. She had just finished teaching one of her morning classes and was now doing some paperwork for Lydia while on her "lunch break". 

 She jumped when her phone suddenly buzzed- a text alert. Surprised and curious as to who would be texting her at this time, she unlocked her phone to see the text from an unknown number. 

 Unknown: hey u busy 2nite?

 Kari: who is this?

 Unknown: u fav person

 Kari: OMG! Ed Sheeran?!

 She giggled quietly to herself, returning back to the laptop screen. Normally she ignored any calls or texts from unknown numbers, but it had been a good morning and she was feeling playful. When there was no return text, she shrugged the conversation off and returned to the order. Apparently, the unknown number did not get the reaction they were hoping for or realized they text the wrong person. Either way, she did not care. 

 A couple minutes later, her phone started to vibrate repeatedly. Looking down, she saw she was getting a call from the unknown number. She hesitated to answer, but by the third ring her curiosity got the better of her and she answered it. 

 "Hello?"

 "FUCKING ED SHEERAN? REALLY?"

 She sat there stunned. "Ivar?"

 "Of course, it's me. Who the fuck were you expecting?" He asked, angrily. 

 "How did you get my number?"

 He ignored her question, his voice suddenly sounding muffled. "Yeah, yeah, I'll be a second…. damn it. I know!"

 "Who is that?" 

 "My brother.” He scoffed, muttering something unintelligible under his breath, before speaking to her again. “I have to head back into a meeting now."

 "Oh, ok?"

 "You didn't answer my question."

 Her mind was still reeling from the fact that Ivar Lothbrok had her number and was calling her out of the blue. "What question?"

 He huffed, exasperation evident in his tone. "Are you busy tonight?"

 "Why?"

 "I want to take you out."

 "Ivar," she sighed, pressing a hand to her forehead, "I told you, I can't."

 "Yeah and I don't believe you, so…."

 "No. I'm sorry but the answer is still no."

 "Fine. I have to go." He snapped then abruptly ended the call.  

 Slowly, she pulled the phone away from her ear and stared at it. What just happened? Before she forgot, she added his number to her contacts since she had the distinct feeling this would not be the last time he contacted her. Once done, she set her phone down and dropped her head into her hands. 

 It had been two days since he drove her home and she said they could be friends. In those two days, this was the first contact they had. She had hoped he grew bored with her since she was not playing his game, that she refused to go out with him. Maybe he finally decided she was not worth his time and moved on? Which was for the best. She could never fit into his world, there was no space for her there. Nor did she want to. She was happy, content with her life. 

 It was better for her to not allow Ivar into her life. That's what she repeated to herself as she tried to focus on the inventory order. 

 *****

 "Just put the bags right there, thank you." Kari said, placing the grocery bags, one in each hand, onto the tiled floor. The kitchen in her townhouse was small, two people could barely move around in it without bumping into one another. Thankfully, she did not spend much time in the kitchen. Cooking had never been her forte. 

 "Do you need anything else? I don't mind staying to help." The dirty-blond haired man asked, setting the two bags he carried down onto the floor. He started to shuffle forward but seemed to think better of it and leaned against the half-wall separating the kitchen from the short hallway. 

 "Erik, it's fine. If anything, I owe you. You never let me pay for gas money."

 He shrugged, and tucked his hands into the front pockets of his jeans. "It's not a big deal. I needed to shop too."

 "Still, it's not fair to you." She turned around from placing the milk in the fridge to look at him. 

 "If I think of something you can do to repay me, I'll let you know. Deal?"

 "Perfect."

 "Do you still want a ride to work tomorrow?"

 She shut the door and jokingly waved a hand at him. "See! You're too nice."

 "I'd be ‘too nice’ if I also showed up with coffee for you."

 She laughed, moving some frozen fruit into the freezer. "You're too perfect to not have a girlfriend." 

 He rubbed the back of his neck, a flush growing on his cheeks and drawing out a boyish smile. "I don't know if I'd say that. I'll let you get to it. I'll meet you outside at nine?"

 "Thank you, Erik."

 "Of course." He popped his head around the wall to look into the living room. "See you, Alana!"

 "Bye, Erik!" The response came from the living room. 

 Kari continued to put her groceries away as she heard the front door click shut behind him. Somehow, she needed to figure out a way to pay him back. 

 Erik lived in the townhouse next door alone. When he learned that Kari did not own a car, he offered to give her rides whenever it worked out for both of their schedules. At first, she had been hesitant, still not having lived in the townhouse for long but eventually gave in because he always acted like such a gentleman. Every time he saw her, he made sure to greet her and ask about her day. He always held the door open for her and anybody else close by. A negative word never passed his lips, rather choosing to focus on the positive in life. A routine soon started to form and every two weeks they would meet up outside of their townhouses and go grocery shopping together. When she did not have to work early, he would occasionally give her rides to work since the bank he worked at was only a couple blocks away. That was the extent of their interactions though. She wondered about inviting him over for dinner as to thank him but she always chickened out in asking him. Perhaps that was what she needed to do after all.  

 Once all her groceries were put away, she headed into the living room, seeing her roommate and friend sitting on the couch with the TV on to the Great British Bake-off but looking down at her phone. 

 The brunette asked, dropping onto the second couch. "How was work?"

 "Good. You?" Alana looked up, her make-up flawless like usual on her delicate features. 

 "Nothing too exciting."

 "You know, if you'd waited two hours I could have taken you to the store."

 Kari nodded, fiddling with her diamond stud earring. "I know, but you're so busy with work and school. I know you like relaxing when you come home and Erik said he was free today."

 "Did he now?" Alana asked with a smug look.

 Kari tossed a throw pillow at her. "Don't start this again."

 The blonde caught the pillow, still grinning like the Cheshire cat. "You know he likes you. He's just too shy to ask you out."

 "He's a friend, it's been like seven months, I think if he was going to ask me out, he would have done it by now."

 "He. Is. Shy." Alana enunciated, as if talking to a child. She rolled her blue eyes, leaning back against the couch. "Shit, he only started to actually talk to me this summer."

 "Cause you are intimidating."

 Alana threw the pillow back at Kari. "Bitch, it's cause I radiate sexiness and he can't handle it."

 "That is most definitely it." 

 "Well the guy I hooked up with last weekend said I radiated sexiness."

 Kari wrinkled her nose, looking over at her roommate. "I don't want to hear that. It's bad enough when you bring them here."

 "You know, it wouldn't be the worst thing for you to actually go out with Erik. He's…. sweet." She quietly stated, eyes back on the TV. 

 "Yeah."

 "I'm fairly sure he'd treat you better than that fucker of ex."

 Kari picked invisible lint off her black leggings, apprehensive about where the topic was going. Her love life, and lack of it, was something Alana liked to remind her of frequently as of late. "Honestly, I'm even sure anymore he should count as an ex."

 "Well you were supposed to be exclusive, right? And then you find out he's been fucking other girls the whole time. That counts as a shitty ex."

 She winced at the reminder of her one attempt at dating. "I don't…. I don't think I'm ready."

 The blonde pointed a finger at her roommate without turning her eyes away from the TV. "Well don't wait around forever, you'll miss out."

 "Says the woman who hooks up with a different guy almost every other weekend."

 "And I'm not missing out!"

 Kari laughed. Feeling her phone vibrate, she pulled it out of her pocket and checked it to see a new text from Ivar. 

 Ivar: hell no, if we r gng 2 see the Northern Lights thn we're gng 2 Iceland or Norway.

 She smiled at the text, quickly typing in a reply. 

 Kari: fine, we'll add that to the list. Can I please put South Africa back on the list?

 She fiddled with her diamond stud earrings, looking back at their conversation throughout the day. Just looking at all the texts, she bit her lip to try and contain the smile. 

 Ivar had texted her in the late morning, asking her out again. To which she just texted back a one-word answer- "no". Apparently undeterred, he ignored her 'no', saying how he wanted to take her to this popular restaurant. Somehow the conversation spiraled into creating overly outrageous "dates" he would take her on, each one more fantastic than the last, with her encouraging and creating her own ideas. Their texting had lasted all day, and she found herself actually looking forward to his responses. Something she never would have expected, especially after how rudely he hung up on her the prior day. 

 So far her favorite "date" involved him renting out the entire Roman Colosseum in Rome and having a candlelight dinner in the middle of the arena. The most amusing one was when she suggested they go skydiving. He shut down that idea saying they would have to be strapped to instructors and the only man she should ever be strapped to was him. 

 Her phone vibrated in her hand, alerting her to his response. 

 Ivar: u r not swimming w/ sharks 

 She giggled, trying to imagine his facial expression. She actually had no desire to do half of the stuff she suggested but it was funny to get a rise out of him. 

 Kari: African safari?

 "What are you giggling at?" Alana questioned, giving her the side-eye. 

 The smile dropped from her face. "Nothing."

 "That doesn't sound like nothing."

 "Just a funny meme." She deflected, getting to her feet. There was no way she could tell Alana she had been texting Ivar all day. "I'm going to shower."

 As she headed upstairs to her room, her phone vibrated again. 

 Ivar: do u jus luv danger?

 Kari: I'm talking to you, aren't I? 

 She headed to her bathroom, turning the shower on and checking the temperature. In a spur of the moment decision, she tossed in a eucalyptus shower bomb. 

 Just before she jumped in, she looked at her phone one last time to find his response.  

 Ivar: touche, kitten, touche 😘

 *****

 The soothing soundtrack of nature played over the speakers in the yoga studio room. A few women were already in the studio with their yoga mats out, either stretching or quietly conversing as they waited. Depending on the day, the ten am morning class could be busy but typically it averaged about fifteen to twenty women.

 Kari bent over, touching her palms to the floor. Even though she would not be continuously doing the routine along with those in her class, she still liked to be limber and have her muscles warmed up. This was a beginner class, where she spent a good portion of the time either correcting people's forms or showing how to do a certain pose. A few of her coworkers complained about teaching beginner classes since when the participants walked through the door, you never really knew what level they were at. 

 Checking the clock hanging over the door, she saw she had five minutes before her class started. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, enjoying the pull of her muscles. The door to the studio room opened but Kari continued to stretch, shifting to a downward facing dog pose, holding it. She could hear some people moving around but she focused on her breathing.  

 "Mmm, I could get used to seeing this."

 The familiar voice behind her, caused Kari to try and whip around in startled surprise, only to end up crashing onto her ass. 

 Above her stood Ivar with a devilish smile. "Hello, kitten." He softly said with smolder that instantly made her flush and a tendril of warmth curl in her belly. Standing there in his jeans and red shirt with his hair pulled back in a man bun, it was unfair how striking he looked. Even the braces over his legs did nothing to deter from his attractiveness. 

 She rose quickly to her feet, wiping her hands over her leggings and peeking at the others in the room. Most were curiously watching their interaction but remained where they were. 

 "What are you doing here?" She hissed, turning her gaze back up to meet his. "How did you find me?"

 He rolled his eyes. "You were wearing a Whole Wellness Yoga Studio shirt when I drove you home last week. Plus, hearing from Gyda that you work here…. You're not that hard to find."

 That made sense, even if she disliked the logic. "Ok, fine. Why are you here though?"

 "I want to take you out tonight."

 "Oh gods." She could not believe what she was hearing. The prior day they had spent most of the day texting and sure it was fun, but her answer had not changed. When he had not text her this morning, she assumed that was the last she had heard from him. Apparently, he decided to ask her out in person instead of over the phone like the past two times. "Ivar… No."

 "Why? You keep saying you can't but never why."

 "It's just…. look, I don't want to date."

 He took a step closer, face inches above hers. His voice dropped low, an underlying current of anger in his tone. Those piercing blue eyes challenged her. "You say that but I don't think that's the real reason. So, until you tell me the truth, your 'no' means fucking nothing. Friends tell each other things, right?"

 "You know, I don't think we should be friends anymore."

 He chuckled, still standing too close for a normal conversation. "Too late. I like you."

 "I'm still not going out with you." She placed her hands on her hips, trying to appear confident, hoping desperately he did not hear the wavering in her voice. 'This was for the best, it was best for both of them' she repeated in her mind. 

 "Fine. I'll wait for you to change your mind." He winked and stepped back. To her horror, she watched as he walked over to the side of the room where she kept her water bottle and light jacket. He grabbed a nearby chair and dragged it over before dropping down with his legs in a manspread, that stupid smirk still on his face. 

 She stomped over to him, whisper-shouting at him. "What are you doing?"

 "I'm waiting."

 "What?"

 "I'm not leaving until you agree to go on a date with me."

 "You can't...no…. Ivar." She whined. 

 "I walked all the way here to see you, even though my legs are quite painful today…. you wouldn't kick a cripple out when they just need to rest, would you?" He asked, eyes widened in mock innocence. One of his hands rubbed at his knee in exaggerated fashion as if to prove the discomfort he was in. 

 She groaned. "I hate you."

 "No, you don't." He gloated, then nodded towards the clock. "It's ten o'clock, it's time to start your class, I believe."

 Without another word, she moved to the front of the room. She refused to play this game. Her answer was 'no' and no matter what he said or did, her answer would not change. The whole time she could feel his rakish gaze on her, reminding her how tight her leggings and purple tank top were. She tried to focus on her class, smiling at the women she recognized and the ones that she assumed was new. "Let's begin. Everyone start in mountain pose. Take deep breaths, let's center ourselves."

 "Kari!" 

 She looked over at the older woman, Ingrid, who called out. The woman was easily one of Kari's favorites, doting upon those who worked at the yoga studio, and becoming the unofficial grandmother of them. Ingrid had been coming to the yoga studio for years but was forced to only take beginner level classes after a bad fall the prior year. She loudly complained about her doctor being an idiot and how she felt fine, but Lydia refused to let her attend any other class than beginner classes until otherwise said by her doctor. 

 "Yes?"

 Ingrid's hazel eyes twinkled with mischief from the front row where she stood. "You planning on introducing that handsome young man you've got over there?"

 "No, we are going to ignore his presence. He's going to be leaving soon." Kari flatly stated with a polite smile.

 "Hi! I'm Ivar!" He announced with a charming smile, his bright blue eyes alluring under the dim lights. Giving a little wave with his fingers, he continued, "I hope my presence doesn't bother all you lovely women, I just came to see my girlfriend and ask her on a date tonight."

 A chorus of "awwwws" filled the room. 

 Kari wanted nothing more than to bang her head against a wall. Or preferably, Ivar's head. She could not believe the audacity of him.

 "Where are you taking her?" One of the newer women asked in a flirty tone, pulling her shoulders back to emphasize her ample chest. 

 Ivar barely glanced at her, keeping his focus on Kari. "It's a surprise. I wanted to do something special."

 "Young man, if I were a few years younger, I would fight Kari here so you could take me on a date." Ingrid said with a laugh. 

 "I would be honored to take a lovely woman like you on a date." He sent a playful wink to Ingrid. 

 "Alright, let's get back to yoga." Kari tried to redirect the attention. Annoyed and upset did not even begin to describe how she felt. 

 "Well it was lovely to meet you, young man. Kari should have told us her boyfriend was so handsome. We might have convinced her to bring you in sooner for some eye candy." Ingrid teased. 

 "He's not my boyfriend." Kari retorted, shooting a glare at the smug raven-haired man. 

 "And that is why I'm trying to take her on a date." He placed a hand dramatically over his heart, eyes staring at her beseechingly. "Just for her to give me a chance."

 "Get her some tulips. Those are her favorite flowers." Karina called out from the back of the room. 

 "Can't go wrong with chocolate!"

 "Oh! Read her a sonnet and dance under the stars together!"

 "This is so romantic…. like something out of a movie." Someone loudly whispered, making a few others laugh. 

 Kari dropped her chin to her chest. Tears welled in her eyes. She knew those in the class meant well, that they were really just trying to help. But they were helping the wrong person. Why would Ivar not leave her alone? She told him 'no' multiple times, that should have been enough. Her tolerance for his behavior was waning rapidly and honesty she was not sure if she would fight back…. or surrender. 

 The chair scratched faintly on the floor followed by his footsteps landing audibly as he crossed the room to reach her. She refused to lift her head, her eyes squeezed shut. Not just to pretend she could not feel him standing so close to her, but to try and hide the single tear that rolled down her cheek. 

 "Kari." He whispered, the sound a caress of her name. 

 Still she did not move. 

 Gently, he tipped her chin up, forcing her to look at him. His thumb wiped away the evidence of her tear. It was those captivating eyes, the ones that could both scorch everything in view but also send flames of desire dancing across her skin, that met hers. To her surprise, there was a softness in his gaze, a vulnerability, that was reminiscent of the few times they were alone. As if with just her, for a brief moment, he let his guard down and she could glimpse the real Ivar. 

 "Go out with me." He murmured faintly, stroking her cheek with his thumb. Standing in front of her, his broad back to the class gave them a semblance of privacy. "Please."

 "Why can't you let this go?" She begged quietly, staring up at him. 

 "I told you, I'm persistent." He smiled, almost shyly. 

 In his words, it felt like there was such a depth to them she was unaware of. That he was confessing something to her in which she did not have the key to fully understand. 

 She sighed softly, closing her eyes for a moment before looking at him again. "Fine. I'll go…. But it's only as friends, ok? This isn't…. Romantic. Just…. Just friends."

 "Sure, just friends." He leaned forward and pressed a quick, chaste kiss to her cheek. "I'll pick you up at seven."

 She nodded, feeling torn apart inside. 

 After a lingering look that breathed a flame into her belly, he spun on his heel to face the women. "She said yes!"

 A few cheers and clapping reverberated in the small yoga studio room. 

 "I graciously thank you all for your sound advice and encouragement with helping me to woo the beautiful Kari. Wish me luck as I plan to thoroughly spoil her tonight." Ivar dramatically bowed, shooting a quick wink at Kari as she watched him. 

 She desperately tried to fight the small smile off her lips. No one could say that Ivar was not charming or charismatic when it suited him. 

 As he finally made his way to the door, he turned around just before pushing it open. "Wear something nice." He said, pointing a finger at Kari and then walked out like a dream where one cannot decide if it was a nightmare or not. 

 The brunette ran a hand down her face before shoving aside her emotions and plastering a customer smile on. "I'm so sorry about all of this. Let's get back to it. I promise it won't happen again, ladies."

 "Kari, dear, you have fun with that boy tonight." Ingrid spoke up, eyes darting to the now closed door and back to the yoga instructor. "And if you don't want him, let me know. I'd still jump on him in a heartbeat. That boy has the prettiest eyes, I swear."

 A few sounds of agreement echoed in the room. 

 Kari could not stop her smile from turning genuine at Ingrid. No matter the situation, the feisty, older woman always knew how to make her laugh. "I promise I'll let you know. Now, back to mountain pose please."

 Silently, she hoped tonight was not a mistake.

[aspenflower17]

Finding You (Part Fourteen of ??)

Hey everyone! I hope you’re all having a good New Year so far! I have a bit of an update after the chapter for y’all.

Edit: Oop! I forgot the link to Part One for any new people! My bad!

Tags (ily all!):  @simpingforsatan @naimena @hachimochi @wrathandgreed @magi-minminxiii @rensphilia @a-dream-at-night @chloelikesobeyme @getbehindme-satan @theuglypugling @oofthelazyweeb @mammonismyfirstman (as always, if you’d like to be put on the tags list, juust let me know in a comment down below, or a DM)

Word Count: 1,961

TW: None? I’m pretty sure?

Mc didn’t know what she was expecting from the song Satan’s brothers pressured him to play, but a gorgeous melancholic love song was not it, though she should have guessed it was a love song from the title. She was entranced from the first couple notes, and the lyrics pulled her in further. They spoke of someone experiencing love for the first time, though they were afraid of their Love fading away and leaving them. She smiled at the cat lyrics, finding herself not surprised Satan would write about them. He seemed like a cat lover, though she had no real basis for the belief.

 Satan’s singing voice was just as nice as his speaking voice and she found herself impressed. It also held a lot of emotion, enough that she was surprised it didn’t affect his singing. Though she had never heard the song before, it seemed extremely familiar. Though, it was a fairly universal concept, so it probably just seemed she’d heard it before. She hadn’t realized she was crying until Mammon offered her a handkerchief. When he finished, everyone clapped, and he started on another song.

“I never thought I’d hear tha’ song again,” Mammon spoke to Mc in a low voice.

“Why?” she asked.

“Oh… Uhhh… Well, it’s about a lost love of his. Once she… disappeared… He played it one more time and then said he’d never play it again.” 

Mc felt her throat constrict a bit at the revelation, “He must be doing better then. When he got his next… lover, he probably started feeling better.”

“He… Uhhh... '' Mammon floundered for words, and Mc found herself eagerly awaiting his next words, “I don’ think he’s dated anyone before or since her. If nothin’ else, she is his firs’ and only love.”

“Did she hurt him?”

“Huh?”

“I just ask because I’ve seen a lot of people, well, humans, who had relationships go sour and closed themselves off emotionally. I was just wondering if that’s what happened to him.”

“Not… Not exactly… She was human and she… died…” Mammon seemed really anxious at this point, and Mc decided not to push the subject further.

A human? Really? Well, that adds another layer to the song. It’s the most permanent level of “leave” there is. He knew going into the relationship it would end. But… If she had been corrupted enough by him, wouldn’t she have gone to the Devildom? Then they could’ve been together… Does that mean she went to the Celestial Realm? Do I know her? Or… Did she get stuck as a wanderer? Either way, why would he play it now? Mammon said he’d sworn off playing it ever again… The questions swirled around in her head as she watched Satan play.

“Ooooo! Ooooo! My turn!”

“Asmo, you can’t play piano,” Satan sighed, already getting up.

“But I can play music off of my DDD now can’t I?” Asmodeus said, waltzing up to what had become a stage.

As Asmo scrolled through what Mc could only assume was his list of songs, Satan came and stood next to her. Mammon even moved over so he could. Mc gave him a small smile and then turned her attention back to Asmodeus, who was gushing about the song he’d found to sing. She was still thinking about all the unanswered questions she had when she felt a breath next to her ear “What did you think?”

Mc almost jumped, but instead found herself glued to her chair, “Of the song? Or your singing?”

“Hmmm… Both.”

“You play and sing wonderfully. The song was beautiful. I could really feel your emotions.”

“Thank you,” Mc felt Satan retreat back to a standing position, and she found she missed his presence.

A huff from the other side of the room caught her attention. Looking over, she caught the tailend of Michael watching Satan with narrowed eyes before turning back to Asmodeus. How strange.

When Asmodeus finished, Lucifer was both begged and forced to play by those in the room. While Mc had to admit he was definitely in a league all his own, she found herself preferring Satan’s playing to Lucifer’s. She cocked her head slightly at the realization.

“Excellent Lucifer! Just exquisite!” Diavolo boomed, giving the Avatar of Pride a standing ovation, “I can’t remember the last time I heard you play!”

“Well, it has been awhile,” Lucifer smiled. His pride seemed to have recovered enough he could properly interact with people again. Mc was happy she was able to avert a crisis, not interested in finding out how a brawl between Michael and Lucifer would go. Though… Would either of them actually get into a physical altercation?...

Mc was so caught up in her thoughts, she didn’t realize the brothers were leaving until they were all asking if she would come to the House of Lamentation at some point.

“... And I would love to paint your nails,” Asmo prattled on, grabbing her hands, “And I know the Devildom’s lack of light can make your skin lose some of its radiance, but I have a moisturizer that can help with that. Oh and-”

“Asmo, come on! Ya want Mc to come visit or not?” Mammon interrupted,

“Mammon, you don’t understand the nuances of keeping yourself looking perfect.”

“Uh, yes. I do. I’m a model. Ya been smellin’ too many of ya fancy products and it’s melted ya brain?”

“I think you’re thinking of yourself, though it was probably when you were trying to con those witches into buying acid, and you drank some.”

“Oi! How do ya know about that?”

“Ugh, there they go again,” a head rested itself on Mc’s shoulder, and she almost jumped until she saw who it was, “Seriously though Mc. You should come over.”

“Yeah. You’re even welcome to bring Luke,” the one brother who she hadn’t talked to added, “Barbatos told me he’s gotten even better at baking.”

“Of course I’ve gotten better at baking! I’m also very good at cooking too,” Luke said, having joined the conversation.

Mc watched at Beelzebub, which is who she figured he must be through the process of elimination, actually started drooling, “Does that mean you’re actually going to come over then?”

Luke smiled fondly, a look Mc wasn’t sure she’d have ever thought he could have for a demon, “If you’d like Beel, I could probably make that happen.”

Beel rushed over to Luke and pulled him into a huge hug. Belphegor removed himself from Mc, walking over to Beelzebub, “Beel, you need to let go of the chihuahua or he’s going to suffocate. Luke can’t make you food if he’s been squished.”

“I’m sorry. I hope these idiots haven’t been bothering you too much.”

“Not at all Lucifer. They were just inviting me over sometime.”

“Well, I suppose it’s time for us to head out,” Lucifer said, starting to gather his brothers.

“You are welcome anytime you want to come over,” Satan’s voice came from behind her.

“I… Thanks. I would really like that.”

“Satan! We’re leaving.”

“I’m coming Lucifer,” Satan called, rolling his eyes, then back to Mc with a smile, “Bye.”

“Bye,” Mc called after him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Mc sat in her room hours later, the events of the evening still running through her head. Though she knew Michael wouldn’t approve, she found herself much more at ease and even happier around them than she did around most angels. There was a non-judgmental kindness they all exuded (well, all except Lucifer) that made her feel like she belonged. She found herself excited about the prospect of spending more time with them at the House of Lamentation. She had to laugh a bit, the fact she didn’t fit in with the rest of the angels never more clear than it was now. 

Simeon had told her his time in the Devildom had been extremely enjoyable, the less structured lifestyles if the Devildom a welcome change from the Celestial Realm. She had read his work from that time and it was obvious he had felt a lot more creative in the Devildom, even though he had school responsibilities at the time. While she hadn’t doubted his words, she had always figured the change was mostly due to the fact he had been able to communicate with his lost brothers again. Now she understood what he had been talking about. 

Simeon generally gets along with the other angels too. What would they all say if they found out I prefer the company of the Fallen to them? Everything is just more natural with them. It’s almost like I already know who they are, as strange as that sounds. Especially Satan, though I’ve felt connected to him since I got his letter. Speaking of which, who was it that he mentioned? Lil… Lilly? Lillah? Lillian? Hmmm… I can’t remember. I do know I’ve never heard that name before. Whoever it was seemed to have a great impact on all of the brothers. It can’t be someone they Fell with. I’ve read all the literature about the Fall and I don’t recognize the name. Though there’s a lot about the Fall the Celestial Realm doesn’t talk about. But... Simeon’s also never mentioned anyone with that name before… Maybe it’s time for me to do some more research.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Mc stretched, and checked the time on her DDD. She had been in Diavolo’s personal library for over three hours, and she still hadn’t found any mention of the mysterious “L” person. She found plenty of references to Lucifer though. It seemed he and his brothers had been instrumental in helping Diavolo establish order when the old King had started his slumber. What caused this slumber, why it happened, or if it would end was not covered. Mc wanted to research the topic further, but she couldn’t get distracted until she had answered her initial question.

There was a knock at the door, and Barbatos came in carrying a teacup on a saucer, “I thought you might be in here.”

“Oh, hello Barbatos.”

The butler entered the room, and set the tea down on the table Mc was studying at, “I thought you might like some tea.”

“I would actually, thank you. If you would like to, you can take a seat.”

“I suppose that’d be alright,” Barbatos smiled, and sat down in a chair. His eyes glided across the books strewn around Mc, “You’ve got some heavy reading here.”

“Well, I’m trying to figure something out,” Mc sighed, sipping her tea.

“Perhaps I can be of assistance?”

“Maybe, though I don’t remember what it is I’m looking for exactly,” Barbatos simply cocked his head slightly until she continued, “Satan was telling about… Well, a personal experience, and he mentioned someone. I don’t remember their name, but it was someone very close to all the brothers and they had passed away. I was just trying to figure out who it was.”

“You seem very interested in this person,” Barbatos’ tone wasn’t accusatory, but he seemed to expect and answer.

“... I guess I’m just trying to understand them better. Him better,” The last part slipped from Mc’s mouth easily, surprising even her.

“I think I may know who you’re talking about. If I’m correct, you won’t find any references to her in these books. It’s not my place to explain the situation to you however. You should probably go speak with the brothers about her…” the butler paused for a second before continuing, “I believe Michael also knows a lot about the situation, though he doesn’t know the full story,” with that, he got up and pushed his chair in, “I must continue with my duties, but I appreciate the short reprieve. Good night.”

“Night,” Mc called after him. Huh. Michael knows?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Part Fifteen

 I wanted to let you all know that as it is January, ever since 2014 the first moth of the year has been terrible for me. So far, we are 3 days into 2021, and I have already gotten a near constant tooth ache meaning I’m going to have to go to the dentist, and have gotten sick. I don’t know what else this month has in store for me, but I just wanted to warn you all, if my updates get sporadic or short, that’s why 😬 

[elitparadox]

Life Goes On~ (Pt. 3)

Description: you suddenly appear in haikyuu after watching the show for weeks now, and you’re trying to find a way out after learning from these talented characters. you weren’t meant to fall in love with any of them, but with osamu’s alluring formosity and talent, you can’t help but rethink your life that has led up to this exact moment.

Genre: fluff, slight crack, slow burn

feat: miya osamu x f!reader

word count: 1.3k

status: ongoing

parts: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7

Then it hits you. Time. You never thought about it, yet now another wave of panic is crashing down on you, more insistent this time. What about my family? They'll go crazy! And when I finally get back, they'll- *you start mentally sniffling* -they might forget me! And I won't have any food! I'll be homeless! what am I going to do what am I going to do what am I going to-

"Um, hello?" Osamu interrupts your thoughts, snapping his fingers in front of your face.

“Ah, sorry. But we should be sleeping... anyways… good night!”

You curl into a ball, the cold air still reaching your body despite the blankets.

“Ok. Night!” Osamu sighs, trudging to another bedroom.

You try to sleep, but a hurricane of convoluted thoughts swirl throughout your mind, devastating every morally supportive reminder as you contemplate if you should retrace your steps. You count sheep, like a totally normal person would when sleep doesn’t come to them, but it doesn’t work. Then you remember how you would usually go outside, nature doing its job for you.

You slip out of the apartment, trying to stay as quiet as you can.

That doesn’t happen, obviously.

“Ow!” You swear as you bump into a sharp edge on the counter near the exit door.

The door slams closed, almost on your bare foot.

“How graceful.” You walk up the apartment stairs, reaching a latch leading to the top. As you open it, the sudden wind nearly topples you off your feet like a harsh admonishment to stay away.

“Wow. It’s cold up here. I mean, of course it would be.”

The cold washes over your body as a layer- frigid instead of warm. You shiver, your body temperature seeming to slowly decrease by the second. But the stars shine light upon you like a spotlight, but even better. It was a burst of temporary happiness and ideas.

You walk toward the edge of the balcony deck, leaning onto the parapet.

“Life goes on, and every second matters. But, I need to find a way out of here. How am I going to stay? I don’t even know how I got here. This is just great. I don’t want to depend on anyone ‘cuz i feel like i need to owe-”

You don’t realize you’re muttering sleepily to yourself until a voice behind you makes you jump literally five feet in the air.

“Why are you up here?”

You whip around to find Osamu standing there, and you let out a sigh of relief because you were actually expecting a janitor to say this.

“Um, well, long story short- I couldn’t sleep.”

He looks back and forth at your dreamy visage and your shivering self. 

“You’re going to catch a cold. Jus’ come inside.”

Without responding, you turn back toward the night sky with its brilliant stars illuminating the bright bustling city below. The whispering wind blows loose strands of your somehow silky hair across your face, and with the surprisingly calming feeling radiating from osamu, you fall asleep, your head nestled in your folded arms. (and osamu has to give you a piggyback down the stairs into his bedroom btw absolutely nothing nasty happens)

The morning settles over you slowly like the unfolding blatant truth. Rubbing your eyes and sitting up, you look around, unable to believe that you’re not in your room, because you half-expected that what happened before was all a dream, except you can’t dream a dream in a dream.

So, you know the usual morning routine, you get out of bed, brush your teeth, get dressed, and figure a way out of here (which isn’t what you would normally do, but change of plans..)

It was then you noticed Osamu cooking some other delicacy in the kitchen.

Your heart softens like syrup on waffles, because never before had anyone done this for a stranger like you, and you say “Samu, you don’t have to do all this for ME. don’t you have bigger fish to fry? Besides i have to find a way out- i mean, leave soon-”

“OK, but do you know where you’re going? You seem new to this town…”

You gulped. Your ideas for returning home seemed futile now. You couldn’t wait forever, you didn’t have any way to travel back, and, for the sake of osamu, you couldn’t stay in his apartment for as long as you had to (which could be years)!

Please let this be a dream. Please let this be a dream. Please-

Osamu chuckles slightly while frying eggs on a pan, pulling you out of your thoughts. “You don’t know, don’t you?”

“Like I said…” And, too mentally exhausted for lies, you reiterate how you were brought here.

As you catch your breath, you look at Osamu. Is that amusement in his eyes?

“No, seriously! That’s legit what happened, okay? Why would I lie about this?” You insist, frustration clawing its way up your stomach.

He seems thoughtful for a silent minute. “No idea. You don’t seem to be lying… but should I take you to the therapist? I think they could help. By the way, what’s your name? I can’t believe I forgot to ask you this.”

“Y/N. And I don’t need to go to the therapist! I’m telling you, this is what happened! And I don’t know where I’m going to stay for possibly the rest of my life!”

You sigh, the frustration already kindling a fire in your eyes, slumping down on the couch.

“Hey.” The previous glint in his eyes disappear like mist as he strides in long graceful steps toward you (after turning down the cooktop temperature) “Jus’ calm down already. I’ll help ya if ya need it. Besides, would staying in my apartment really hurt ya?”

“Okay..” you say slowly because you’re trying not to think about the way his hand is surprisingly on your shoulder. “But only if you can help me with volleyball.”

To spend the time, you think silently.

The look on Osamu’s face was priceless. Actually, it wasn’t. Because his expression was as blank as a fresh sheet of paper.

“What?” He asked like I’d just sprouted two heads.

“What do you mean what? Is it so wrong that I ask you for volleyball help when you’re an awesome spiker in Inarizaki?”

Oop. Major oop.

“How do you know that I’m in-”

“Ok okokokkkkkkk” You drag out the word, trying to think of an excuse during these seconds.

“Welp.. we’re near Inarizaki High, so isn’t it obvious that every high schooler from this neighborhood goes there?”

Now it was his turn to be embarrassed. “Oh yeah. Sorry.”

Realizing something else, he adds, “But didn’t you say that you don’t come from here?”

“Oh yeah. I forgot to mention, you’re part of a popular TV series”

“What?”

Now you’re starting to think he’s a total dumbass like his brother. “I said what I said.”

“Okay. I don’t believe ya, but sure.”

“Anyways… are you gonna help train me or do you not have the time?”

That new notion hits you hard. You came here for the practice, not for the pure joy of exploring a different world...

Noticing your flustered expression, Osamu says, “I don’t have much time with all my schoolwork… but I’ll help you during the weekends and you can come watch my team’s drills and sometimes practice matches..”

“Really??? You’d do that??”

“Yes” he says with a straight face, but deep inside, his heart is fluttering ever so slightly from your overjoyed expression.

Now this… was a start.

Glancing over Osamu’s shoulder, you ask, “Aren’t those eggs getting cold?”

(requests are OPEN) hope yall like it!! tag list: @omiomi-zoomizoomi @liechelia @sillyanimedream @niconiconiithot987

[peaceoutofthepieces]

chapter 15.5

When I Live My Dream (Please Be There To Meet Me)

song for the chapter: in my head - peter manos

To go along with chapter 15! This scene feels more important to the storyline than the Sobbe one, but probably still not absolutely necessary? (But please, read it 🙏🏻). The temptation to write a full length VDS fic is so fucking strong but for now at least, take this ☺️

Lucas finds Jens at the skate park. Of course.

It’s more difficult than he expects, because Jens isn’t skating with his friends or even skating by himself. Lucas has to avoid all the dips and ramps and other people zooming past him, dangerously close, to find the shelter Jens has taken refuge in. It takes him longer than he expected, due to the fact it could barely be considered part of the skate park, as tucked away and inconspicuous as it is. Jens is sat at the back, arms resting lazily on his raised knees, head tipped back against the metal wall and cushioned by his hood.

He lifts it when Lucas steps towards him, and it’s only then that Lucas notices how tired he looks. He musters a small smile and flicks his hand in a wave. Lucas moves to sit down next to him, pulling down Jens’s hood to ruffle his hair on the way. Jens pulls a face and huffs at him, but Lucas catches that slight uptick at the corners of his mouth. He gets settled down and mimics Jens’s position, only with his arms crossed. The rest of the skate park is mostly hidden from here, but there is a nice view of the rest of the city.

There’s nothing but silence from Jens until he releases a heavy sigh, and Lucas rests his head against his arms so he can look at him. “Your silence is a little concerning,” Lucas admits.

Jens only sighs again. “Sorry. I should be letting you have more fun than this. You probably didn’t come the whole way out here just for this.”

Lucas shrugs. “It’s really not that far. I probably would’ve come here anyway. You’re just like, a minor inconvenience.” Jens shoves him and he laughs, teetering dangerously to the side before Jens grabs him and pulls him back into place. Lucas doesn’t know if it’s only his imagination, but he thinks they’re a little closer than before. He bites his lip before saying, “It was either stay at home with the possibility of murdering my dad, or come to you. It wasn’t a hard decision.”

That earns a faint smile. Jens mirrors his position, now, and asks, “Is he really that bad?”

Lucas only shrugs. His parents in general are a topic he mostly works to avoid. Most of his friends back home know the story, more out of necessity or the fact it was impossible to hide rather than Lucas’s desire to tell them. He told himself one of the good things about coming here was that that could be different. He just wasn’t expecting Jens.

He was of course aware there would probably be numerous new crushes available, sure Antwerp wasn’t lacking in pretty boys. He just didn’t expect one to befriend him out of nowhere.

He certainly didn’t expect the crush to begin morphing into actual feelings, the kind he’s only ever harboured for Kes before now.

It’s the only explanation for why he says, “Probably not as bad as I make him sound. He was always an okay dad, but he ended up being a shitty husband and then seemed to decide the two titles went hand in hand. He ditched my mom and dragged me to another country with him because it was decided she couldn’t take care of me and I couldn’t take care of myself. It didn’t matter that a bunch of my friends offered to let me stay with them, or that I didn’t want to leave. Everything that’s happened in the past year just made me angry at him and now we can’t speak without me screaming at him and him dismissing or ignoring me. Or occasionally screaming back.”

He gives a wry smile and another shrug to go along with that, surprised at the relief that runs through him when Jens just nods in understanding. “Robbe went through something similar. He got into a flatshare, though, and I think he’s actual had a couple of civil meetings with his dad recently.”

Lucas’s smile turns a little more genuine. “Is that you telling me ‘it gets better’?”

Jens shrugs. “If that’s what you want to hear. Otherwise I can just tell you parents fucking suck and curse him to hell and back with you. But I’d rather not, because I know you hate it, but he brought you here. So.”

Lucas’s heart stutters in his chest. Jens says it much too casually, but he’s looking away again now, picking at a thread on his jeans before rubbing his hand over his knee. He only turns back at Lucas’s intake of breath, looking at him through his lashes. Lucas is disgusted at the amount of power this boy has over him already. He hates how weak it makes him feel, how untethered he is from everything but the warmth filling his chest. He’s falling hard and fast for a guy that will never return his feelings. For a guy that kissed his ex-girlfriend, well within Lucas’s sight, just two days ago. He’s ridiculous to think he has a chance. Idiotic. Completely mad.

It’s just that it’s hard to fully remember that when Jens looks at him like this.

His heart doesn’t really know how to deal with it at the moment, so he grins again. “So I should really feel lucky, because I’m just blessed to know you?”

Then Jens is grinning back at him, comfortable with the more familiar tone of their usual back and forth. “Obviously. Just imagine now, going back in time and having a choice. You couldn’t live without me.”

Lucas scoffs, because he’s right.

“Not that I’m against it, but why exactly are you hiding here?” Lucas questions after a moment, antsy with the way Jens is still looking at him and the length of the silence.

“I’m not hiding,” Jens denies. “The others were here earlier, and I didn’t feel like leaving yet. Decided to wait around so I could hang out with this pretty Belgian guy.”

Lucas narrows his eyes at him. “You know I’m not from here.”

Jens blinks. “Oh, you thought I was talking about you? No, no, this was supposed to be my alone time. I enjoy my own company.”

Lucas gawks, then punches him in the arm, though he’s unable to hide his amusement. Any and all joy from Jens is infectious, but there’s nothing Lucas adores quite like this genuine laughter, the quiet giggles that don’t seem entirely in his control. Then Jens strokes his hand dramatically down Lucas’s face, says, “No, of course it’s you, darling,” and Lucas stops working.

He manages to half-heartedly swat Jens’s hand away, about five seconds too late, and Jens just continues to laugh quietly at him. Lucas slumps against the back of the shelter, resting his head against the cool ridges, and watches Jens resume his earlier position, head pillowed on his arms and gazing back at Lucas with an unfair amount of fondness.

“I’m glad you’re not mad at me,” Jens says quietly. “I missed you yesterday.”

Lucas smiles. “I’m sorry I didn’t reply to you. I think I was a little mad, until a while ago. I got pretty used to Kes ditching me for his girlfriend, and it sucked, and I had other friends then. You’re kind of all I’ve got here. When it was just us beforehand I kinda forgot it wasn’t the same for you.”

Jens closes his eyes, shaking his head slightly. He blows out a breath and refocuses his gaze somewhere around Lucas’s chest. “Jana’s a bad habit I haven’t learned to quit yet. That’s the first and last time I crossed that line since we broke up. It would’ve been much better for me to stay with you. You’re good for me.”

Lucas raises a brow and feels that ridiculous flutter again. “Yeah?” Jens hums, nodding. Lucas doesn’t know why he says, “Why didn’t you, then? Stay with me, I mean.”

Jens licks his lips and Lucas can’t be blamed for how his attention is immediately drawn to his mouth. “Because I’m stupid. And I was scared. That I was getting stupid and I’d fuck things up with you, or you would get sick of me. My friends are pretty much limited to Jana and the boys, and it’s not like I can just hang out with Jana anymore. We tried at first but it—I think I needed a little more time than I gave myself then. Robbe’s busy with his new boyfriend, which I don’t begrudge him, because he deserves it and the guy’s hot. It’s fine with Moyo and Aaron, but they’re their own little duo, and I’m kinda sick of listening to them talk about all the girls they’re gonna hook up with but never do. I’m kinda sick of just. Being there.”

Lucas’s heart aches, and he hates himself a little. “Always the bridesmaid, never the bride.”

Jens huffs, smiling again. “Basically.”

Lucas gives him a sympathetic smile. This silence feels both comfortable and charged, and Lucas lets it linger a little longer before saying, “I’m kinda glad you’re stupid.” Jens raises his brows. “You probably never would’ve accidentally tagged me in that comment otherwise. Then I’d still be the weird loner new kid and that’d just be depressing.”

“Well, you’re kind of still the weird new kid. Just less of a loner.” Lucas rolls his eyes, but rewards him with the bit-down beginnings of a laugh. Jens’s voice is uncharacteristically soft when he adds, “I’m glad I was stupid, too. But I don’t think it matters that much.” Lucas furrows his brow at him, and he finishes, “I was always going to find you.”

That’s when the rain starts. Jens glances out of the shelter at the sound, which quickly grows deafening. He looks back at Lucas with an expression that can only mean ‘oops’. They’re stuck here for a while.

Lucas’s heart speeds up in that adrenaline fueled way that lets him know he’s about to do something very, very stupid. He gazes back at Jens, and he can’t manage more than a whisper to say, “Your ex was right.” Jens looks half-confused, half-hurt before Lucas says, “You are a very bad idea, Jens Stoffels.”

Then he kisses him.

He’s gratified when Jens doesn’t freeze, but responds instantly. His hands grasp Lucas’s shoulders before moving to cup his neck, dragging him closer. The hunger in his kiss matches Lucas’s, touch for touch, and Lucas finally allows himself to bury his hand in Jens’s hair and lick into his mouth.

The fact that he’s kissing a boy is pushed aside by the fact that he’s kissing Jens. It’s at least ten times more mind-blowing.

Jens is giving as good as he gets, clearly practiced in what they’re doing, and it sends a jolt down Lucas’s spine every time he tangles their tongues together and nips at his bottom lip. Jens’s hands don’t go far, settling against his neck or along his jaw or in his hair, but Lucas can’t stop his from roaming. They move from Jens’s hair to his face to his waist and back again, as hungry as his mouth and unable to get their fill. It’s more than he’s ever had and it still doesn’t feel like enough. It doesn’t satisfy the tug pulling at his stomach or fill the gaping well in his chest, desperate for this feeling he’s never been given enough of. His heart hurts with how much he wants it and with how real that want is. He can’t imagine ever having enough. He can’t imagine ever telling himself he doesn’t want this.

With how the boy is currently kissing him, Lucas feels like he’s never wanted anything as much as he wants Jens. He has the startling realisation that Kes is nothing but a fleeting thought in his mind. Right now, he can’t fathom wanting to be anywhere other than right where he is.

He’s suddenly giddy with it, grinning too much to really keep kissing properly, but Jens continues to press his lips to his, unrelenting even as his own grin spreads to match it. That laugh that Lucas adores bubbles out suddenly, and it only makes Lucas have to kiss him again. It really becomes impossible, then, so Lucas goes to pepper kisses over Jens’s face at the same time as Jens moves to kiss along his jaw, and they fall into a full fit of laughter, Jens collapsing into Lucas’s chest with his face scrunched up adorably. Lucas winds his arms around him and laughs into his hair, heart stuttering when Jens sneaks a kiss to his collarbone. Lucas tightens his arms around him and presses one to his hair.

Once they’ve calmed down, Jens shifts until they’re on the same level again. He turns towards Lucas and presses his forehead to Lucas’s before saying, “Fuck, you’re beautiful.” Lucas feels like he might burst.

This time, Jens kisses him.

[angelofthequeers]

Not a Good Look: Chapter 3

@thequeenofpotatoeunicornss @lady-charinette tagged as requested :)

Chapter 2 | Chapter 4 | AO3 link

Disclaimer: I don’t own ML.

“Should I use my power now?” Aspik says when he and Multimouse are by his bedroom door, ready to slip out into the house and gather intel on this possible deal between Gabriel and Lila. “Here’s probably the safest place to reset to, and I can always refuel and give us another save point after five minutes once we get to another safe space.”

“Smart!” Multimouse blurts out. With cheeks as red as Ladybug’s suit, she adds, “Sorry! Just…yeah, that’s a good idea, Ad – Aspik. It’s probably not a good idea to wait till we’re caught before setting the save point.”

“Second Chance!” Aspik swipes his fingers over his bangle, setting the snake head back and revealing five teal bars. Then he holds up a finger, rests his other hand on the doorknob, turns it, and pushes it open. Thankfully, the hallway outside is empty, so Aspik gestures for Multimouse to slip out with him.

“I can’t believe I get to do a superhero mission with you!” Multimouse is practically vibrating as she walks. “I mean, it was really cool doing it with Ladybug, but…she’s Ladybug, you know?”

Aspik’s about to respond but they round the corner at that moment and stumble across the maid, Marie Durand. Marie takes one look at them and lets out a piercing scream, and Aspik yelps and fumbles for his bangle as the sound of footsteps from downstairs reaches his ears.

“Second Chance!”

Once more in his bedroom, he heads out with Multimouse again, though this time, his senses are more finely tuned so that they can avoid Marie and anyone else who might be around.

“For the record, it’s awesome doing a superhero mission with you too, Mar – Multimouse,” he whispers. Multimouse jumps.

“O-Oh! I really said that?”

Aspik grins at her and she turns beet red. “Yep. As much as I loved working with Ladybug, I feel like there’s a little less pressure with you. I’m not trying to impress you.” His eyes widen when Multimouse reels back as though she’d been slapped. “Um, not that I don’t – I mean – Second Chance!”

God, why can’t he have Second Chance as a superpower in his everyday life? He’d sell his soul to be able to get out of awkward situations like he just had; and this time, when telling Multimouse how he likes working with her, he makes extra sure to leave out the part about not trying to impress her. He hadn’t meant it like that! He just meant – well, it’s so much easier to relax with Marinette! She puts everyone at ease!

Unfortunately, his confession of enjoying working with her also makes her squeak and trip over her own feet, crashing to the floor so loudly that Marie is summoned to investigate. Just like the last time she’d caught them, she screams, and Aspik is forced to hurriedly use his Second Chance again to avoid being caught.

Okay. Avoid any topic that involves heaping praise on Multimouse. As much as she deserves it, now is not the time for her to be flustered. Really, that one was all on him.

Fourth time: Aspik got so distracted by Multimouse’s twin buns and wondering how to get Marinette to wear them normally that he completely forgot about Marie. Oops.

Fifth time: Multimouse slipped past him as they crept down the grand staircase and her smell of strawberries and vanilla invaded his nose and knocked him off his feet, sending him crashing head over heels and bringing Multimouse down with him. Nathalie had been decidedly unimpressed, but he’d reset before she could snarl out whatever she was going to say.

Sixth time: minor love crisis over how hard it would be to just go out with Ladybug and Kagami and Marinette all at the same time. A close encounter of the Marie kind once more.

Seventh time: Just a dizzy spell. Definitely not distracted by wondering what Multimouse’s lips would taste like and if she’d taste any different when detransformed. Thank god no one else remembers what happens but him.

Eighth time: At least made it past Marie before remembering Ladybug holding Marinette close and devolving into a primate with his single brain cell dedicated to fantasies involving both girls that he’ll never divulge even under pain of death. Caught by Nathalie again.

Ninth time: Got distracted by the way Multimouse’s jump rope tail moved as she turned the corner and then couldn’t look away from her butt. Here lies Adrien Agreste, struck down by the heavens for perving on the butt of one of his best friends. (The superhero suits definitely do their wielders some favours, though).

Tenth time: finally made it all the way to the atelier, quicker this time so Nathalie wouldn’t catch them. Scarred for life when Multimouse divided to make the door opening look like a breeze and Nathalie had been hugging Gabriel from behind and burying her nose in the crook of his neck with one hand splayed across his stomach. Gabriel Agreste in any kind of sexual context? Eww, eww, gross.

Eleventh time: quickest reset yet when he told Multimouse what he’d seen last reset and she’d let out a shrill scream at the thought. Lesson learned: don’t let Multimouse imagine Gabriel Agreste in any kind of situation like that. Good thing Aspik had taken the Snake instead of her.

Twelfth time: took a more moderate pace; not too quick that they’ll catch Gabriel and Nathalie banging or whatever it is they were doing, but not so slow that she’ll catch them downstairs again. Unfortunately, this is the most skewed timing yet.

“– not with Ms Rossi. And Tsurugi-san swears that he isn’t –”

Aspik and Multimouse freeze, but it’s too late to duck back around the corner or into another room hide from Nathalie, who’s frozen at the sight of them. For a moment, both sides stare at each other, mentally daring the other to make the first move, and Aspik might have been faster to react if the previous two cycles hadn’t left him flustered, so it’s Nathalie who breaks the silent game of chicken with a snarl of determination.

“Duusu –”

“Second Chance!”

The world around Aspik dissolves and reforms to place him back in his bedroom. He shakes his head and grabs Multimouse by the wrist when she reaches for the doorknob.

“We should wait ten minutes or so. The timing’s always wrong,” he says, deliberately not mentioning all their failed times when he’d been distracted by her, so Multimouse nods and steps away. They fall silent, waiting until Aspik’s sure that it’ll be a good time to sneak down…but there’s something that’s eating at him from the last cycle. Something about Nathalie’s reaction. Every time, she’s snarled at them and looked like she was going on the attack, but Aspik had always reset before she’d been able to speak. That time, though she’d gotten a word out. What had she said? Duusu?

“Duusu? What does the Peacock kwami have to do with this?” Multimouse says. Oh. He’d said that last bit out loud. But wait, how does Multimouse know who the Peacock kwami is?

“Uh, how do you –?”

“Ladybug told me!” Multimouse blurts out. “But how do you know?”

A terrible thought occurs to Aspik, making his stomach twist and coil like a snake that’s tangled itself in a knot. He swallows around the lump in his throat and rasps, “Nathalie. She said it before I reset.”

Multimouse’s eyes bulge, and she shoots a look at the door and then back at Aspik. “You should detransform,” she murmurs. “We need to come up with a plan now that we could be up against Mayura, so you may as well let Sass refuel.”

“Right. Um, scales rest.” Although Adrien’s got no idea what’s going on with Multimouse, he can’t help but instantly follow her instructions as though Ladybug herself had given them. He directs Sass to Plagg’s Camembert fridge and then sinks down on the end of his bed, watching Multimouse wear a hole in the floor with her pacing and fidgeting and mumbling. She’s so like Ladybug in this moment, just like when his lady is coming up with a convoluted plan…but that’s not fair to Marinette. It’s not fair to compare her to Ladybug just because he loves both girls and it would solve all his problems if they were the same girl.

“No, no, that won’t work,” Multimouse mumbles, toying with a lock of dark hair that frames her face. A momentary gap in the hair reveals the black stud in her ear, the only feature from her civilian self to carry through to her transformation, although Adrien hadn’t been aware that accessories could carry over. Maybe it’s just him.

But…wait. Except…

“That’s very sweet of you!” Multimouse turned her head to show her bare earlobes. “But I’m not Ladybug! I’m Multimouse!”

Then how does Multimouse have earrings now? Unless…no way. There’s no way. Adrien freezes as the fabric of his mind starts to unravel. She’d tricked him! Maribug tricked him! His lady’s been right here in front of him the whole time, and he’d been right to suspect her of being Ladybug, he’d been right, but she’d thrown him off like the devious girl she is! How? The Rat can only divide its wielder. It doesn’t have any powers of deception.

But…the Fox does. And it’s perfectly possible to unify Miraculouses; Dragonbug and Snake Noir had proved that in the battle against Miracle Queen and her henchmen. And theoretically, if there was a Multimouse that had unified with the Fox and hidden away, in the perfect position to create an illusion of Marinette and Ladybug next to each other to throw off Chat Noir…

“Adrien?” Multimouse says when Adrien exhales and runs a hand through his hair. How is he even supposed to process this? He’s loved Ladybug for so long that it’s become as much a part of him as breathing, and Marinette’s crept up on him so slowly with each day that’s passed…but they’re the same person! He’s fallen for the same person twice over! “Are you okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah. Just…deep in thought about implications and stuff.”

Multimouse blanches. “Oh. I didn’t even think…if Nathalie is Mayura, and the Butterfly and Peacock were lost together…oh, Adrien, I’m so sorry.”

Oh. His father could be Hawkmoth. It’s not the first time Marinette’s suspected it – after all, there had been that time that Ladybug had had her suspicions, just before his father had been akumatised – but Adrien’s brain hadn’t even connected the dots from Nathalie’s attempt to summon Duusu until now. And that thought is enough to twist a new snake in his gut, except that this one is one of bubbling nausea.

“But he was akumatised,” Adrien rasps, raising a hand in case he needs to clap it to his mouth to hide a gag. “Can the Butterfly akumatise themselves? Did he do it to throw you – uh, Ladybug and Chat Noir off his scent? If Hawkmoth’s my fa – if he’s, you know, then he must’ve panicked when I lost the book and thought that you were on his tail.”

Multimouse shrugs rather helplessly. “I wish I knew what to tell you. But I hardly know anything about the Butterfly.”

Yeah. But she knows plenty about all the others. “No, I get it,” Adrien croaks. “You wouldn’t know. What do we do?”

“We need a plan,” Multimouse says. “We should find Ladybug and Chat Noir and tell them –”

“We don’t have time for that,” Adrien immediately counters. Multimouse blinks and shuts her mouth with an audible clack, and Adrien vows to apologise later for being so harsh now, but there’s no way he can just sit back and let Gabriel keep the Butterfly for a moment longer than necessary. “I am – I could be the son of Hawkmoth. If anyone else gets akumatised after this…that’s on me. I could’ve stopped him.”

“Adrien, no.” Multimouse crosses over to sit next to him and she rests a gloved hand on his bare one. Adrien’s not sure whether the warm tingles that dance across his skin come from Ladybug or Marinette, but does it really matter when they’re the same person? “The only way you could be guilty in this is if you were willingly helping him. And I know you. I know you’d never help that scum. I’ve seen how you interact with him, remember?”

Adrien ducks his head to hide his warming cheeks. Marinette’s always had such faith in him, whether he’s Adrien or Chat Noir, and even though he can’t figure out exactly what he’s done to deserve such staunch faith from the most incredible person in the world, he’s not going to complain about it.

“But I’ll be guilty of letting him get away with it if we don’t do something now,” he says, praying that there’s no sign of his inner turmoil visible to Multimouse. “If you divide, you should be able to get the Miraculous, right?”

“Yeah but…” Multimouse bites her lip. “We should have more of a plan than that. What if something goes wrong? This is more of Ladybug and Chat Noir’s thing.”

“And like you said, they wouldn’t be able to even get near this place without everyone knowing,” Adrien says. Technically, they’re Ladybug and Chat Noir, but he’s not lying when he says that they could never get near Gabriel as their true superhero identities. “But Multimouse and Aspik? I can keep resetting and tell you where we went wrong. And you can sneak the Miraculous away.”

“I suppose…” Multimouse says. “And we could also get Mayura’s if we knew where it was kept.”

“I think it could be in the vault in my father’s office. That’s where I got the book from, so it’d make sense for him to keep it in there.”

“But we still need proof. We could grab the Miraculouses and give them to Ladybug and Chat Noir, yeah, but it’d be our word against his. I don’t want him to have any chance of getting out of this.”

“Why do we need all these convoluted plans?” Adrien throws his hands up and jumps to his feet, making Multimouse jerk away. “We just need to go in there and get the Miraculouses! This isn’t an akuma battle!”

“I’m sorry, Adrien.” Multimouse wilts. “I just want to make sure that we cover every possible angle. I mean, if your father is Hawkmoth, it’s not going to be easy for you. There’s going to be fallout, from the police and the legal system and the news and everyone. Considering how much your father controls your life, things are gonna change completely for you. And if he somehow manages to slip out with an innocent verdict because there wasn’t enough evidence…”

Oh. He hadn’t even considered what would happen to himself, but of course Marinette’s concern would be him and his welfare. “No, I’m sorry,” he says, once more wondering what the hell he did to deserve someone as amazing as Marinette. “I shouldn’t have snapped at you when you’re just trying to make sure that everything goes smoothly. I’m just…dealing with a lot, but I shouldn’t be taking it out on you.”

Multimouse smiles. “Apology accepted. I know that learning your father could be Hawkmoth can’t be easy. But I do think we should do this later. Maybe at night when he’s asleep and we can just grab the Miraculous? You said that Nathalie’s out there, and we don’t want to risk Mayura jumping in and making things messy. And we can’t go to the police and get their help to take him down. Even if we had proof, we can’t trust anyone but Ladybug and Chat Noir, and Ladybug said that she trusts us.”

“You really are brilliant,” Adrien breathes. Multimouse’s face stains scarlet in response,

“Yank – um, thank you!”

“But how do we get proof? Unless we stalk him and wait for him to transform, I don’t see how – oh, and we need proof that he’s made a deal with Lila!”

Multimouse is quiet for a long moment. “Do you think…Lila knows?” she says in a hushed voice. “Or at least suspects? I mean, it makes sense for your father to make a deal with her, but…”

Adrien swallows around the lump that suddenly forms in his throat. If Gabriel really is Hawkmoth and he has made a deal with Lila, a lot of things will start to make sense, such as why Gabriel would so heartily endorse a dangerous liar. And if they have made a deal, was it in place as far back as when Kagami was akumatised? Is that why Lila had tried to get Ladybug killed?

“I hope that Lila doesn’t know,” he finally says. “For my own sanity. If there’s a whole plot around using me like – like a piece of meat, like I’m something that can just be exchanged like money…”

Multimouse’s eyes soften. “Let’s go,” she says. “We can fill in the others and then take your mind off it. I’ll tell Ladybug everything when she comes by to get the Miraculouses.”

Adrien just nods numbly, his chest like a lead weight as he struggles to draw in precious oxygen. What else can he do? It’s not like he’s a stranger to being treated like an object – like all he’s good for is smiling and showing himself off for the good of Gabriel – but the thought of being passed around like a shiny object, being used to seal a deal and purchase loyalty in a potential terrorist plot…well, it’s enough to make his stomach try and yeet itself up his throat.

He’s so lost in his daze that he only just notices Multimouse leading him towards bright blue, before his surroundings turn soft pink. There’s a buzzing sound that could be talking but his one remaining brain cell is currently trying to process just how entangled he is in this whole Hawkmoth-Lila plot, how little agency he even has anymore, that it’s all he can do to not break down completely on the spot.

But when his fuzzy vision clears and he’s met with the sympathetic faces of Marinette and Alya and Nino and Kagami, any remaining power he might have over his body dissipates and his legs give out beneath him, depositing him on Marinette’s cool wooden floor. There’s a flash of black and pink and the soft scent of strawberries and vanilla, mingling with the sharp smells of earth mixed with sports deodorant, of warm cinnamon spice, of fresh men’s deodorant. It all anchors him, stops him from floating away, fills his lungs in place of the air that he can’t breathe, and he finally allows himself to break, surrounded by the safety net of the people with whom he’d trust with his life.

[kunoichi-ume]

Ni kyr'tayl gai sa'ad

Characters: Torian Cadera, Noara Starspark, Balic Cormac and Elara Dorne-Cormac (I have no idea if she will ever take his name, but they are totally married so that’s how I am writing it haha) Story: Jedi Sitters Word Count: 3458

Note: This fic was inspired by this piece of art by @jemichiart, and the name for the little Rishii baby totally taken from @outcastcommander’s suggestion. This also ended up much longer than I expected, but I enjoyed writing this so I am not sorry. EDIT: I am however sorry I forgot to add the tags and link to the picture. Oops.

The sharp tang of blood filled the air as Torian made his way through the Rishi jungle, rifle held ready in case he needed it. He had set off that morning to go hunting but, apparently, he wasn’t the only being on the prowl for a challenge. Whatever had spilled the blood tainting the air had apparently already found it’s prey. He followed the scent, giving in to his curiosity that soon turned into alarm when he identified where the smell of blood came from. Not further into the forest, where wild beasts were known to roam, but into a small clearing he was familiar with. A clearing that housed several huts belonging to a small tribe of locals.

Blood spilled there couldn’t bode well at all.

They were a peaceful sort, the Rishii, despite being natural born predators. Despite their sharp claws and beaks, and ever sharper eyes, Torian ahd always found them to be a kind and welcoming bunch every time he visited their home world. Now that he called the tropical world home as well, Torian had hopes of befriending one or two of them. While he had never heard of a Rishii Mandalorian, the idea of one excited him and he’d welcome any of their number into his hunting party.

Stopped at the edge of the clearing, Torian observed the carnage with a keen eye. Several structures were only partially standing, walls and roofs caved in. Not a single dwelling was left as adequate shelter from the elements. Bodies, all belonging to the feathered locals, laid out across the ground. Claws, far larger than any he had ever seen a Rishii possess, had carved up the bodies the same way they had destroyed the buildings, gouging the ground to leave long, deep grooves in the packed dirt.

Torian sighed heavily, he was no stranger to death but there was always something tragic about the loss of innocent lives. These people were not warriors, not soldiers. They were families, with elderly and young among them. Now he was grateful Noara had not joined him this morning, she was not a hunter but enjoyed exploring the wilds at his side. Death, especially senseless deaths like these, always weighed heavily on her. Where Torian observed the carnage with a sense of sadness at the loss of life she would feel the full weight of grief bearing down on her chest. He loved the former Jedi with all his heart, but her upbringing in the Order still influenced her to behave in ways he didn’t always understand. It kept life interesting.

The sound of something hitting the ground pulled Torian's attention away from the bodies laid out across the clearing. Keeping very still, he strained to hear any other signs of life. Perhaps something in the damaged huts had shifted he wondered. But then a second, clearer sound filled the air. Cracking.

Moving quietly, careful to step around the bodies and blood, Torian entered the clearing and looked for the source of the sound. Nothing was out of place in the first partially standing hut he investigated, nor the second.

At the threshold of the third Torian froze in place, shocked still by what he found as his heart pounded loudly in his ears.

Sprawled out on the dusty floor was a small creature and, though he had never seen one before, it was obvious to Torian it was a newborn Rishii ik'aad. A baby. Something thick and shiny soaked the ik'aad's feathers, pieces of shell caught in the viscous liquid and littering the area almost like shrapnel from an explosion. It looked as though the egg that little thing once resided in had been stashed into the cabinet above where it sat, the door hanging open on a crooked hinge.

It wasn't hard to make the assumption that someone, possibly one of the child's parents, had stashed the egg away in hopes of safety. Luckily the door had held after the damage to the walls had displaced it until the danger had passed. And, equally lucky, was that the ik'aad had been ready to hatch.

Stepping into the destroyed hut, eyes far too large for the small ik'aad's face, lit up in delight when he came into view. Slinging his rifle over his shoulder, Torian couldn't resist carefully scooping the ik'aad up into his arms. The little thing barely weighed anything at all and his chest tightened at the idea that it was made an orphan the same day it was born. Torian was still a baby when he lost his parents, but at least it hadn’t been the exact same day. A foundling before even getting a name. Brushing some of the shell pieces off soggy feathers, he did his best to check if the child was healthy but truthfully didn't know what he was looking for.

The question of what to do never entered Torian’s mind, there was no debate to be had. Until he could find the ik’aad’s family, if any lived, the foundling was his responsibility. First thing first, he needed to make sure the newborn was healthy. Glancing around the hut, Torian grabbed a large red cloth and shook the dust off before wrapping it around the child. It was a warm day, as was the usual on Rishi, but he didn't want to chance the child catching a chill from it's soaked feathers. Once satisfied that the makeshift birikad would hold the ik'aad securely against his chest, he was quick to leave the destroyed village behind and head back into the forest.

Head turning all around so much Torian was concerned the ik'aad would injure it, the infant cooed excitedly while taking in the world for the first time. It was all Torian could do to keep from laughing, the pure joy of seeing the world with new eyes was infectious. When he reached the rough path he had taken into the jungle, no longer having to duck under branches, Torian switched from a quick pace to a jog. He wanted to get the ik'aad home as soon as possible, not only did the newborn need to be examined by a trained medic but he also had no idea what kind of food to provide. Luckily, when he had left, Noara had said she expected her brother and his wife to come by soon.

Balic Cormac, a giant of a man, wasn't Noara’s sibling by blood, but by choice which meant more to Torian in the long run. He had grown up without his blood around and Noara's had given her away. Better to rely on the family that chose to love you when you needed someone. As luck would have it, Balic's wife Elara was one of the most widely versed medics Torian had ever met. She should be more than capable of giving the little Rishii a proper checkup.

The ik'aad made an odd huffy noise, one that sounded almost put out and made Torian grin widely. "Don't worry ad'ika, you'll get a better look later," he said, smoothing his hand over the ruffled feathers slowly drying on the child's head. He'd make sure the kid got an eyeful before they decided what to do with him.

Walking into the Clan Compound Torian was struck with the still unfamiliar feeling of being home, a warm sense of contentment and belonging that he savored. It wasn't something he had experienced often in his life, having an actual home instead of just a temporary accommodation. When Noara had started talking about wanting to settle down, leaving the saving of the galaxy to others while they moved on with their lives, he hadn't been too particular about where they ended up. As long as he could hunt, house his clan and be with his wife he was happy.

Settling on a tropical world, one with plenty of beaches and ocean to keep Noara happy and thick forests and plentiful fauna for hunting had turned out perfect. Even the base they found was exactly what they needed, large enough to house everyone and any new members the clan might welcome in the years to come and all the animals Noara had taken to rescuing, while being secure enough to defend if they ever needed to.

They even had enough space to put in their own little medical center, which was where Torian headed first. With the Cormac's visiting, it was fairly likely they would either be checking the set up of the new infirmary equipment as Elara had been their main consultant on what they needed, or up in the cliff-side apartment he shared with Noara. Elara was a very driven, serious woman and he would be surprised if she didn’t want to get straight to work. Also the infirmary was closer to where he exited the jungle.

Barely inside the door Torian knew he had made the right choice. The murmur of voices drifted down the corridor toward him and he smiled. He had no idea how Noara would react to him coming home with an ik'aad strapped to his chest and, honestly, he was looking forward to finding out. She found far too much amusement in surprising him with the newest beastie she had decided to take into their home, it was only fair to turn the tables on her.

Several people were gathered inside the infirmary. Balic was leaning against the wall, not far from where his wife worked and even slumped down slightly he was still head and shoulders over everyone else. Several of the younger clan members, all in varying colors of armor, watched the blonde woman with rapt attention as she gave them a rundown of how to use a new scanning device. Noara was lying on the hospital table, obviously playing the lab wamp rat, and doing a good impression of an injured patient until she looked toward the door.

Sneaking up on Noara was almost impossible for Torian, she claimed to be able to feel him with the Force. He believed her, but it was still a hard sell. She claimed it wasn’t the same as how she felt another Force user, but something special because of their connection. She could feel him when he was near, even sense a bit of his moods if she tried.

Of course that didn’t mean he wasn’t determined to try, and someday he was going to manage it.

Instead of pretending to be hurt, Noara smiled brightly when he stepped into view and he could see the moment she noticed the ik'aad. Her eyes widened in surprise and she jolted up off the medical bed, head almost colliding with Elara's who had leaned over during her lecture. Only Balic's large hand yanking his wife backward saved them both from having their bells rung.

"Cyare," Noara said, pushing off the bed and hurrying toward him. "Meg vaar gar ganar?"

Muffled laughter broke out among the younger vod in the room. Noara had been working on learning Mando'a for a few years now, but like now still managed to get some words mixed up much to the younger generation's amusement. Instead of asking what he had, she instead spoke a gibberish phrase about what he had undeveloped. Or half grown, vaar, could mean either.

Cheeks flushing, Noara knew what the laughter meant but instead of reacting further she peered curiously at the ik'aad. "Who is this?"

Torian leaned his head down to brush his lips against her forehead, eyes fixed on the vod still smiling about her slip up. It was of course a message, to remind them she was their alor's riduur. Noara was more Mando than he could have ever imagined a Jedi turning, but part of him still worried about her being accepted by his peers. He knew first hand that it was possible to be Mando and still be treated like an aruetii. He'd be damned if he would let anyone make Noara feel like she wasn't enough.

Turning their head, the ik'aad looked up at Noara with wide yellow eyes. Noara returned the interested stare, reaching out to run her fingers through the matted feathers. "Poor little guy needs a bath," she said, raising her eyes to frown at him. "Are you babysitting or something?"

"Or something," Torian laughed before giving a quick explanation of his day. His story had the attention of everyone in the room and Elara was at his side before he had even finished.

"You should have said it was a newborn sooner," Elara chided him, holding her hands out. "Let me take a look."

Nodding, Torian braced one hand on the ik'aad's bottom before untying the birikad. Once it was loose Elara had the little one in her arms and was making her way back to the exam table.

There was perhaps a split second between her stepping away from him and the loudest shrieking he had ever heard come from a sentient being's lungs. Noara gasped as Torian darted around her, beelining for the table.

"What did you do?" he demanded, leaning over the table to see the small Rishii ik'aad lying on the bed and looking completely fine. Even the squalling had stopped, the moment he leaned over the table. Confused, he looked at the former Havoc Squad medic.

Humming thoughtfully, Elara shifted to block Torian from view. Again the ik'aad started crying loudly. Moving back, the cries stopped the moment golden eyes met Torian's. "Stay right there, where the child can see you."

Noara stepped up beside Torian, pulling a stool over for him to sit on and stayed by his side as Elara examined her new patient. This time the instruction she gave the watching vod was more hands on than the lecture she had given over Noara's 'pretend' ailment. Torian didn't pay much attention to the words she was saying, explaining everything she did, instead he was drawn to the small Rishii's eyes that seemed glued to his face.

Finally Elara set her instruments away, lifting the ik'aad and passing him over for Torian to hold. She delivered her prognosis with a bright smile. "That is one perfectly healthy Rishii baby boy you have there Torian."

"He is such a cutie," Noara said, perched on the edge of the table behind him and leaning over his shoulder to run her fingers through the boy's feathers again. "If his parents are dead, what do we do with him?"

Torian frowned, he hadn't thought that far and now that he was holding the small boy in his arms it just felt... right. Like he was meant to take in this foundling as his own, as his son. They had talked a little about children, though nothing in certain terms and had never discussed adoption. It was as much a part of Mandalorian culture as armor and fighting, they even had a set phrase for it.

How was he going to tell his wife he wanted to make them parents without even discussing it? Watching her smile as the boy gurgled happily at her touch, he had a feeling it wouldn't be too hard to convince her.

Before he could work up an idea of how to start that conversation, Elara cleared her throat to get their attention. "Actually, you should know that Rishii infants are known to imprint on the first person they see."

"Imprint?" Noara asked, frowning in confusion and the words sunk in for Torian. He knew what it meant, but never imagined a sentient species did it. By being the one to find the boy he had all but sealed the question of their future.

"It's a long lasting attachment to the first individual or object a creature sees after hatching. It's common in avian species," Elara explained in her serious manner before smiling. "Based on the child's reaction to being separated I can only assume he has imprinted on Torian."

"So that means..." Noara's voice trailed off as she looked between the boy and her husband. "Are you a dad now?"

Torian pulled his son closer at the hitch in her voice, "I guess, I mean I want to know how you feel about it before deciding anything."

Noara watched him carefully for a long moment before looking up at the crowded room. "Could we have some privacy please?"

"Of course Noara-doll," Balic said before pushing off the wall where he was leaning. He started herding the training medics out of the room before dropping a kiss on the top of Noara's head and leaving with his wife tucked tight against his side. On the way out the door Elara called back that she would arrange for some proper food to be up in their apartment for the boy.

Once they were finally alone Noara shifted closer on the bed to wrap her arms around Torian's shoulders, her chest pressed up against his back. She laid her hands on top of his, helping cradle the child against his chest. When she spoke her voice was steady, though little more than a whisper in his ear. "Are you ready to be a father Torian? I know we've talked a bit about it, but this would be starting now. No time to come to terms with it or get cold feet you know?"

"As sudden as it may feel, I think I am." Torian turned on his stool, dislodging her arms so he could watch her face carefully, "what about you? Are you ready to be a mother?"

"To be honest, no. I don't feel ready at all," Noara said, sighing sadly. "I still don't really know what a mother is? How to do it, you know?"

Holding the child with one hand, Torian cupped her cheek with his other one. "I don't know what being a father is like either but together I have no doubts we will figure it out."

"He'd need a name," she said after a tense moment, leaning her face into his cheek with a smile, "if we can't even manage that what kind of parents would we be?"

Torian laughed, the anxious worry he hadn’t really noticed in his chest relaxing at her smile. "Fair enough. Any ideas?"

“Not sure, never named anyone before.” Noara looked down at the boy tucked against his chest. "His eyes look like little suns don’t they? So bright and full of life."

"What about Tranyc?"

She frowned, "that's Mando'a right? Star... something?"

Torian nodded, impressed that she caught the unfamiliar word. "Star-burned, but that's the literal translation. 'Sunny' is a more true meaning."

"Okay."

"Okay?"

"Yeah, I love you Torian," Noara said, wrapping her arms around his shoulders again and kissing him. "And loving this little guy will be no burden I’m sure."

“No I don’t imagine it will be,” Torian said, standing and taking one of Noara’s hands to draw her off the table to stand in front of him. Adjusting his hold on Tranyc, he situated them so Noara was helping hold his son between them. “We should make it official, well as official as Mandalorians ever are.”

“I take it there is a set way to do this?” Noara’s eyes had a teasing gleam in them as she smiled up at him, “so tell me, how do we make Tranyc our son?”

Torian’s heart felt like it could burst, gratitude and admiration for Noara’s easy acceptance of their son almost overwhelming him. He had to clear his throat before being able to speak the adoption vow. “Ni kyr'tayl gai sa'ad.”

“What does that mean?” she didn’t look up as she asked, her eyes fixed on Tranyc’s bright smile.

“I know your name as my child.”

“Very Mandalorian, direct and to the point. I like it.” Noara placed her hand on Tranyc;s head and repeated the vow. Like when they had spoken their marriage vows months before, it took her a few times so get the pronunciation exactly right. When she finished, she gathered their son in her arms and pressed a kiss to his cheek before laughing. “We really need to bathe our son,” she said, “and Elara should have an idea of what to feed him by now.”

Torian wrapped an arm around her shoulders, guiding Noara out of the infirmary. “Let’s take our son home,” he said, the words making him feel like he could fly. His entire life Torian had wanted a family, one that he could do right by. The way his father hadn’t. The way Noara’s parents hadn’t. They had both grown up without a family but together they had made one all their own. And, other than perhaps the day Noara agreed to marry him, Torian had never been happier than this moment.

Translations

Ik'aad - baby; child under 3 Birikad - baby carrying harness Ni kyr'tayl gai sa'ad - adoption vow - lit. I know your name as my child.

[starship-squidlet]

New Music: Act 2, scene 7

Chapter summary: The aftermath of the fight with the Delanceys. Cora and Davey get to spend some time together.

Word count: 2,122

Warnings: blood tw, injury tw (nothing serious, but just as a heads up these are things that come up in the chapter)

Disclaimer: Preface

Tag list: @the-cowbi @i-am-a-wizard @xbanner-carriedx @chaotic-sunflower-galaxy (let me know if you’d like to be added to/removed from the tag list!)

Links: Spotify playlist, YouTube playlist, ‘Just the Way you Look Tonight’ on YouTube

A/N: Hey, look, I finally figured out how to put the keep reading links in mobile!!! Now y’all don’t have to scroll past mega-long chapters any more!!! I’ll go back and add them into the other chapters at some point, too. Also! There are some deleted scenes that I’m going to be posting today or tomorrow! Two are from this chapter, and one is from an earlier chapter and I just forgot to post it then (oops). So stay tuned for those!

Previous chapter: Act 2, Scene 6

Next chapter: Act 2, Scene 8

Davey turned around as the door to the club opened, ready to join the others in their typical gentle ribbing of Jack, Albert, and Race for being late, but his comments died on his lips at what walked through the door.

Race and Cora came through first. Even with her face buried in Race’s shoulder, the filth covering Cora’s clothes was obvious, and Davey immediately knew that something was wrong. This conclusion was supported by the next people through the door: Crutchie, clutching a bloodied handkerchief to his head and walking half-supported by Jack. They were followed by Albert, carrying Elaine on his back, and Mush, holding another bloody handkerchief over his nose.

Henry was the first person to move, running for the first aid kit Medda kept behind the bar. The others shifted into action right after him, getting chairs to set Crutchie and the girls down in, getting them glasses of water, and wrapping ice in towels to help with swelling and bruises. Spot took Mush by the shoulder and led him into the bathroom. Albert set Elaine on one of the bar stools and helped her out of one of her shoes, grabbing one of the bundles of ice and holding it to her ankle. Race set Cora down and gave her a quick, tight hug before picking up another ice bundle and holding it to his knuckles.

Henry went straight for Crutchie, checking out the bleeding gash over his eye first. “This isn’t actually as bad as it looks,” he said. “I don’t think it needs stitches. The bleedin’s slowin’ too. Keep pressure on it until it stops.”

Davey noticed Cora’s eyes flicking around the room, like they couldn’t focus on anything. With everyone flitting around, chattering with each other, demanding answers, he couldn’t blame her. He stepped forward hesitantly and brushed a hand against her shoulder. She flinched away, nearly falling out of the chair.

“I’m sorry!” Davey said. “Come on. Let’s go over there.” He offered his hand to her. Cora took it, trembling, and let him lead her to the other side of the club, where they sat down in a corner booth. The high seats blocked out some of the noise the others were making, like they were in a bubble. Davey looked down and saw Cora picking at the skin on her hands, pulling it away from where it had split over her knuckles. “Hey,” he whispered, reaching out to take her hands. She pulled away from him with a little gasp. “Sorry, I’m sorry,” Davey murmured. He held his hands up, then set them on the table. “I don’t want to hurt you, or scare you at all. I just want to help. What can I do?”

Cora shook her head and stared down at her hands. Davey nodded and crossed his arms on the table, resting his chin on them, hoping that his presence alone would help Cora relax.

Back over by the bar, an argument was brewing. Davey glanced over, trying to catch up on what he had missed.

“That’s it,” Jack was pacing back and forth, clearly furious. “That. Is. It. This is done. We’re done—all of it.”

“Jack, come on, you’re not makin’ sense,” Race said, shifting the ice on his bruised knuckles.

“No,” Jack snapped, spinning on him. “I said before—the last time—that we should stop before things got outta hand, but youse convinced me to keep goin’. Well, now it’s over.” He stalked over to Elaine and lifted her arm, showing a nasty scrape that went from her elbow almost all the way down to her wrist under the ripped fabric of her sweater. “Look at this. All of youse. Look at this, and at Crutchie’s head, and Mush’s nose. I’m not okay with this.” Elaine yanked her arm back and cradled it against her chest, glaring at Jack. “I ain’t gonna let anyone else get beat up over music.”

“What are you sayin’, Jack?” Mush asked, his voice low.

“It’s over,” Jack said, turning to face him. “All of this. The band. Over and done.”

“Jack, the Delancey twins have been beatin’ people up long before we started playin’ music and doin’ shows,” Albert protested.

“They didn’t start because of us,” Race added.

“Yeah, but we all became a target because of this,” Jack said. “Everybody knows that the Delanceys have been beatin’ up kids on Pulitzer’s orders since freshman year. Kids he couldn’t punish otherwise. Pulitzer wants to control us, that’s why he’s got Snyder and his goons patrollin’ the school all the time. If he can’t control us through legit means, he’ll do it through the Delanceys.” He flung his arms out. “Well, Pulitzer can’t control this. He tried—last night, he was the one who sicced Snyder on us, I’m sure of it. He’s doin’ whatever it takes to shut us down.”

“He’s doin’ whatever it takes, and he’s winnin’!” Mush snapped. “Because you’s lettin’ him! If we stop what we’re doin’ now, it’s tellin’ Pulitzer that we can be controlled, just like you was sayin’. It’s lettin’ him win and givin’ in to his pressure.”

“You’d really let him take away something that makes you as happy as music does over a couple of bullies?” Elaine asked softly.

Jack turned around and took her hands in his, looking up into her eyes. “If it would keep you—all of you, or even one of you—safe? Absolutely.” He kissed Elaine on the knuckles and released her hands, then turned around, looking at the rest of the group. “Look, youse may be okay with this, but I ain’t,” he said softly. “I ain’t gonna be responsible for anyone else gettin’ hurt.”

“You’re not responsible for this, Jack!” Finch insisted. “Pulitzer is. The Delanceys are. It ain’t your fault.”

“It’s none of our faults,” Spot said, taking a step closer. “The Delanceys is just a couple of meatheads. They ain’t thinkin’ for themselves. All they wants is to hurt other people. Pulitzer just gave ‘em an excuse to go after all of us. They was probably told that they could do whatever they wanted to us without gettin’ in trouble, and that just made us the easiest targets for them. The Delanceys have come after all of us before. It’s nothin’ new. Now we’s just easy pickins.”

“That’s the point!” Jack cried. “We’re easy targets to them. Why would they risk goin’ after anyone else when they could just keep pickin’ us off?” He grabbed Elaine’s arm again. “What’s it gonna take before we do let them win? Broken bones? Worse? What if they put someone in the hospital? What do we do then?”

Elaine snatched her arm back again. “Do me a favor, Jack. Don’t use me as an illustration.” She slid gingerly off the barstool and limped towards the door, stopping to pick up her bag. “It’s clear we won’t be getting any rehearsing done today. I’m going home.”

Finch sighed. “I’ll drive you.” He stood up and took Mush by the arm. “You too. Let’s go.” Mush didn’t protest, but let Finch pull him out of the club.

They passed Medda on the way out, and she gasped when she saw Mush’s face. “What happened?”

“The Delanceys,” Mush sighed. “Everyone’s okay. Henry’s patching Crutchie up now. Jack’s pissed, though, so fair warnin’.”

“Can I assume you all won’t be rehearsing today?” Medda arched an eyebrow.”

“Yeah, but we’ll be back tomorrow, don’t worry,” Finch grinned.

“I look forward to it,” Medda smiled. She patted Mush on the shoulder as she passed, and nodded down the street. “You’d better hurry and catch your girlfriend before she gets too far away.”

Finch glanced down the sidewalk and sighed. “Elaine! Wait! I said I’d drive you!”

Medda opened the door and stepped into the club. As advertised, the atmosphere was tense. Henry was taping up a gash on Crutchie’s forehead, Jack hovering nearby. Some of the other boys were close and seemed to be trying to help—Mike and Ike, Boots, JoJo, Specs. At the other end of the bar were most of the other boys—Spot, Blink, Albert, Race, Romeo, and Smalls. Medda looked around for Cora, concerned, but spotted Davey’s side in the corner booths and smiled to herself. She went to check on Crutchie first, and patted Henry on the shoulder. “That’s a nice job you’re doing there. If any of you need anything, I’ll be in my office.”

On the other side of the club, Davey glanced back down at Cora. She had her eyes squeezed shut, and her hands clamped over her ears. Davey raised a hand to brush against her shoulder, but thought better of it. “Cora? Cora, can you hear me?”

Cora opened her eyes slowly and looked over at him.

“They stopped fighting. It’s quieter now. It’s okay; you can uncover your ears.”

Cora moved her hands away for a moment. When Davey proved to be correct, she moved them down into her lap and started picking at her skin again.

“Hey, don’t do that,” Davey murmured, reaching out to take her hands in his. “It’s okay. You’re okay. No-one is going to hurt you. I promise. I won’t let them.”

Cora offered him a watery smile. Davey looked around, not really sure what to do. “Hey, Cora, what’s your favorite song? That we sing, at least. Or your favorite song to sing. Or perform. If… uh, if that makes sense.”

Cora stayed silent for a moment. Davey didn’t think she was going to answer, at first. But then:

“I like… I like when you sing Sinatra,” she said, her voice small.

“Oh yeah?” Davey grinned. “What’s your favorite Sinatra song?”

She paused. “Um… I can’t remember what it’s called. I liked the one you sang for your audition. That was real nice.”

Davey thought for a moment. “‘Moon River’? That’s a good one.”

Cora nodded. “It sounds real pretty when you sing it.”

Davey smiled to himself. “Thanks.”

They sat quietly for another minute. Cora shifted slightly and leaned into Davey. He very gently slipped his arm out from between them and wrapped it around her shoulders. “What other Sinatra songs do you like?” he asked finally.

Cora shrugged. “Lots. He’s got a nice voice. It’s soothin’. Like yours.”

Davey smiled down at her. “Thanks.” They lapsed into silence again. Once again, Davey was the one to break it, as he began to hum softly.

Cora glanced up at him as he began to sing quietly:

“Some day, when I'm awfully low,

When the world is cold,

I will feel a glow just thinking of you

And the way you look tonight.”

Davey didn’t miss the soft smile that was beginning to creep over Cora’s face, so he kept singing, emboldened now.

“Yes, you're lovely, with your smile so warm,

And your cheeks so soft,

There is nothing for me but to love you

And the way you look tonight.”

The rest of the club seemed to fade away. He could no longer hear the other boys talking—he wasn’t sure if it was because they had left, or if he was just so focused on him and Cora in their little bubble.

“With each word your tenderness grows,

Tearin' my fear apart,

And that laugh, wrinkles your nose,

Touches my foolish heart.”

The longer the song went on, the more Cora seemed to relax. She rested more and more of her weight against him, letting her head fall against his shoulder. Her breathing grew steady and even, and her hands relaxed in her lap, no longer tearing at themselves.

“Lovely, never, never change,

Keep that breathless charm,

Won't you please arrange it?

'Cause I love you

A-just the way you look tonight!”

Davey’s breath hitched in his throat and he stopped singing. Cora looked up at him, green eyes wide, but she didn’t say anything. Davey swallowed thickly and whispered the next words: “And that laugh that wrinkles your nose, it touches my foolish heart…” He found himself leaning lower, drawn by some magnetic force to Cora. His voice cracked, but he kept going with the lyrics, his voice getting even softer.

“Lovely, don't you ever change,

Keep that breathless charm,

Won't you please arrange it?

'Cause I love you

A-just the way you look tonight”

He swallowed again and pulled away. Cora looked down at her lap again, her hands shifting like she was about to start picking at them again. Davey took a deep breath, leaned down, and quickly pecked her on the cheek. When she looked up at him again, her eyes were even wider, shining happily as a beautiful smile spread over her lips. Davey grinned back at her.

“Just the way you look tonight.”

[intheoryowl]

Diversity in KOTLC

[While commenting on this post please don't post spoilers for Unlocked just yet. Thanks. This post may contain legacy spoilers. This post is a repost of my Wattpad post that I made in Sunflower Crown called Diversity in KOTLC, so if you’ve seen this already please feel free to skip it. This post lines up with MLK day, but it was originally posted in reaction to Shannon Messenger announcing the live action movies.]

[Edit: Okay, after typing this post up I realize that there are a few more characters that are POC, but they’re not prominent at all, so the representation is still miniscule. They were mentioned, like, twice throughout the entire series. So, my point still stands.]

What's one thing you notice about the photo above?

Oh, yeah. All the characters are white, expect for the last three in the photo, which are all conveniently tacked onto the end.

Let's address the elephant in the room for everyone in the Keeper of the Lost Cities fandom. Recently, I've been thinking a lot about how little diversity there is within the cast, especially within the main group. I've been meaning to make a post about this since the #BLM movement started up, but I never got around to it.

I've found that a lot of the people in the fandom have been incredibly shy about having this conversation, but I think it's really time we have it. The cast contains very little diversity.

Disclaimer: Before anyone comes at me for this post, I'd like to first say that I've  been a huge KOTLC fan and a big fan of Shannon Messenger's work for a  long time. This isn't meant to be any sort of hate post, but instead a conversation I think we all need to have.

Let's start with the format of the art up above^.

First of all, out of eight characters 3 of them are POCs (or not white). Wylie isn't even in the main group/doesn't really enter the story until much later in the series. The same goes for Linh and Tam. They're all tacked onto the end of the photo, like they're just add-ons.

These three characters are the only characters I know the race of that are POC characters. Out of the entire series. Yes, the entire series. [And I would say that's the case for most people that aren't superfans or recently phased out of the series before art was starting to be released.] I wouldn't say I'm the biggest fan out there, but there aren't that many prominent characters in KOTLC, and just about every single one of them is white.

It feels like a last-ditch throw in when Shannon Messenger went *oops I forgot about diversity entirely!!*. I mean, think about it. Tam, Linh, and Wylie entered the series later on than everyone else.

The lack of diversity, quite frankly, I find ridiculous. And not even just because there are three characters out of eight in that photo (one of which that is POC isn't even in the main group, nevermind the original main group) are POC, and prominent characters. Not only is there a lack of diversity when it comes to race/features that aren't white, but Shannon Messenger also includes exactly zero LGBTQ+ representation throughout the entire series. There is nothing hinted, nothing said. Gender norms are never addressed in the story, and that's fine. But for there to be no gay/pan/aro/ace/freaking anything on the spectrum representation?? No trans representation? Non-binary? Hello??? I get that when she started the series LGBTQ+ characters might not have been something you saw in every single book, but even as new characters are added in we see absolutely no LGBTQ+ representation still. There's not even anyone questioning their sexuality or their gender identity. Nowadays, that's not only a huge part of being a teenager (I would know, I'm one), but also just something you would think is key in the identity of a character.

As a writer, when I start writing a book, one of the first things I do is make sure I know who I want my characters to be. Gender identity, race, sexuality, all of this - these are such fundamental parts to a character. Truthfully, i don't understand how you could just overlook them whatsoever. It's a choice you have to make, not a default setting that's already been turned on for you. I think - even to someone incredibly racist - that as an author writing a book, one would be aware of the outward appearance of their characters? Or the fact that all of the characters had one very certain thing in common? It's hard to miss, frankly, and it looks really bad.

There's really no excuse for it at the end of the day. You can't explain away the facts, and the facts are that the lack of diversity within KOTLC is concerning.

With KOTLC as well, the book doesn't even center around identity for the most part. It's fantasy, and that's what runs the plot, not someone's struggles with race. It really would've been just that easy for Shannon Messenger to throw in a few POC characters or people that weren't straight, maybe mention it in passing, and be done with it and we wouldn't even be having this conversation.

Another thing I'd like to bring up is the microaggressive character arcs of Linh and Tam song, the only two out of the entire central friend group that are diverse characters. (they appear to have some sort of asian heritage, in case you never caught that. But I bet you did with their very distinctly Chinese last names.) When Tam and Linh first appear in the book, they're suspected delinquents and exiled for crimes to a school of people that have been outcasted from society. They're seen as outsiders. During the story, we see the both of them climbing their way up in the ranks through hard work & connections. unlike everyone else who is going to Foxfire from the start, and we don't see them as nobility at first at all. Not only do the twins come into the story late, but they start out being pinned as supposed criminals (for going to their school which they were wrongly exiled to) and being the underdogs.

Twins are also scorned and families in the Lost Cities with twins are highly stigmatized. Same thing, the only two Asian characters in the entire series and they're the ones who have to be scorned instead of the white ones.

I'm sorry, but that rubs me the wrong way. it seems incredibly microaggressive to me. You're telling me that the only two characters of color [in the main group] are portrayed this way by accident? You couldn't have chosen any one of your fourteen white characters to play the role? Please.

Also, this might be a reach, but is there colorism also present in the KOTLC cast? The type of Asian that Linh and Tam seem to be (Eastern - Chinese, Japanese, Korean, etc) have a very light skin tone. Throughout all of KOTLC, the only skin tone darker than white is Wylie's character, who is obviously African-American. There is no one that looks Latina [okay, there is, it's Jensi who was mentioned twice in the first two books and never again], a different kind of Asian,  Romanian, Indian, Middle Eastern, nothing. Actually, you know what, it's not a reach. You're telling me that objectively based on facts, there is only one character out of the entire KOTLC universe that's skin tone is darker than paper? That's the standard?

To that I say: get outta here.

I'm not convinced that Shannon Messenger - as much as I love and adore her writing and her book series - ever truly cared about diversity and inclusivity among her characters. There's no representation other than straight, white, male, female, two Asians, and a single African American character (out of anyone who actually matters). That's it. Statistically speaking.

That's ridiculous.

[This is a later edit: someone in the comments also pointed out that the Lost Cities are located all over the world, meaning that having a mainly white cast also is whitewashing? This only gets worse the more you think about it, ugh.]

I understand that the majority of the KOTLC fanbase is very young. Believe me, I do. I'm probably one of the older fans that has been here for a while/still is here. Most people my age have moved on to fangirling over the Umbrella Academy or something. I get it. But I do believe that even twelve year olds can understand what I'm saying, stay informed, spread awareness, and think critically.  

One of the reasons I think Shannon hasn't been called out nearly as much for the lack of diversity and representation in her stories is because she has such a young readerbase. That's fine. I don't expect people that are ten and twelve to be thinking about any of this. It never occurred to me at the age, so why would it occur to you unless someone else brought it up first?

That said, now that I have brought it up, I think that the least you can do is have conversations with your friends, tag a few people, and think critically about the casts of your favorite books/people you stan. If you're not speaking up, it makes you look like you don't care that there's absolutely zero representation and diversity in the KOTLC series. And you should care.

Keeper of the Lost Cities is a very white, straight series. What does this mean? It means that it's inherently racist, likely colorist, and not currently supportive of any LGBTQ+ people on any LGBTQ+ spectrum. People out there just like you (if you're white) aren't seeing themselves in stories or media. Instead, they're being told that only if you have European heritage or a lighter skin tone can you be a hero. It's harmful. And we need to speak out against it.

[Not to mention that there are no different body types. This post was just on core character identity, and nothing else. As my friend StickyCarpet put in a conversation, what about religions? Do all elves believe the same things? There's very little identity variation between characters beyond their personalities.]

The reason I want to speak out so strongly now, is because as you may know, KOTLC is being made into a live-action series of movies. On screen, it's going to be even more visible and in-your-face that there's no representation. You know what that says to everyone who wasn't represented at least a little bit (or well)? It says we don't see you because we don't approve of who you are, which is just such an awful message to send. In the movies, it's going to be super important for especially younger readers to see themselves on screen. I don't want these movies to just be another movie chock-full of straight white people. It's time for change. This was never something that should've been the standard, so we need to try extremely hard to change it.

By no means will that magically fix or amend the fact that Shannon Messenger chose to put just about zero diversity into the story in the first place, but it will at least show that she's trying beyond throwing a few new characters with different skin tones in after people start calling her out for it.

Keeper of the Lost Cities is my favorite or second favorite series, and it was (and always will be) a huge part of my childhood. I'm a huge fan of the series myself, but I want to make my opinion on this subject very clear and encourage you to form your own opinion on it. I don't have instagram or socials, but I do have a large platform on Wattpad to spread awareness with. Please spread the message.

Please, if you can, tag people from the fandom in the comments. Share this post. Reblog it on tumblr or post it on instagram. We need to get the conversation started. It's not enough to just sit here and pretend like we're all okay with the fact that the series we all love is grossly unrepresentative/not diverse.

In the external link, you will find a carrd leading to Ways to Help & be a part of the #BlackLivesMatter movement, including ways that don't involve money. In my bio, there's a link that goes to all crisis resources around the globe with links to causes. Please feel free to share and utilize both links.

Thank you very much for reading & (hopefully) spreading the message/awareness with me! Your favorite series and author(?) possibly being racist is something that's harder to come to terms with, even for me at my age, so please don't blame yourself for everything and just try to help as much as you can ♡

[Please feel free to reblog and repost on any platform anywhere as necessary. Spreading the message regardless is much appreciated!]

[damonsbitchx]

Florida Burn pt.2

Summary: This is based on New Moon, but instead of staying in Forks and hanging out with Jacob, Bella moves to Florida with Renee and Phil. During this chapter, we follow Bella on her journey to Florida and her battle with the broken heart Edward left her with. I did get a little carried away with this chapter and couldn’t fit my prompt in there so there’s no prompt for this chapter! Oops :) 

Characters: Bella, Charlie, Renee, Phil, and Rosie briefly 

Warnings: There’s just a bunch of angst but that’s all. It’s sweet too.

Word Count: 4,193

Read pt.1 here.

Disclaimer: This was not beta’d so all mistakes are mine!

If you’d like to be tagged in my future works please send me an ask, I’d be happy to add you to the list!

Requests are also open!

    Charlie came back from his fishing trip that night in a better mood than usual. He gobbled down his dinner a little too quickly and rushed to get his old clunky laptop, plopping it down on the dinner table and turning it on. He turned to look at me, gauging my enthusiasm I assumed and noticed I wasn’t even half finished with my dinner yet. He grinned innocently making me huff a low chuckle at him and then he began googling plane tickets. 

“If you wanted me to leave that bad you could’ve just said so,” I teased him between bites of spaghetti.

“I don’t want you to leave Bells, I just want you to be okay,” he sighed, looking visibly upset by the thought.

Charlie was frowning now and suddenly my chest was burning with guilt.

“I don’t have to go, you know,” I offered quickly.

“Yes, you do, Bella,” he insisted, scrolling through the ticket options now, furrowing his eyebrows in deep concentration.

“I could wait until the school year is over. I’d rather not join a new school in the middle of the school year again,” I smiled sheepishly.

    I really was worried about leaving. I was worried about trying and failing to be normal again, fit in with a new but ordinary crowd. I was worried about being a burden on Renee and Phil’s perfect life. I’d learned to fit in here, Charlie and I were two halves made whole by each other. We worked together like a well-oiled machine and I was worried about Charlie functioning if I left. When I left Renee I knew I was leaving her in capable hands with Phil, she had someone to take my place so she didn’t need me anymore. Charlie doesn’t have anyone, and I know he survived before I came but even he would agree his life was better with me here. I was worried about myself, too. What if I needed Charlie? What if going back to live with Renee and Phil was going to crush me further if that was even possible? What if the hole in my chest swallowed them too and Florida didn’t help like I hoped it would? I worried about the Florida Sun not shining bright enough to illuminate the dark hole in my life. All of these things were valid, and to an extent, real reasons I worried about moving to Florida, but perhaps above all, I was still worried about them. I was worried he would come looking for me. What would happen if he didn’t find me? What if he still wants me? If he came back I was worried Charlie would tell him off in my honor, but wouldn’t that be the best thing to do? He didn’t want me, that was clear, so if he came back it wouldn’t be for anything good. Maybe it would be best that I wasn’t here if he came looking. 

    I was jolted from my train of thought when I felt Charlie’s hand touch my face and his thumb wiped my cheek, leaving a wet trail. I didn’t realize I was crying.

“Bella, honey, I only want you to go if you want to. I just want you to heal, baby,” he breathed, cradling my face.

I nodded, pushing my face into his hand gently and smiling. 

“Thank you, Dad.”

    He smiled back, lovingly. Then, we picked out a flight for two days from now. I called my mom to let her know when I’d be flying in and she assured me that she and Phil would be there waiting for me. I’d made my decision, just like he did, there’s no going back now.

_______________________________________________________________

    When the day finally came I found myself restless and unable to sleep that night. I laid in my bed for possibly the last time, thinking about everything that had happened in this small, irrelevant town. It was irrelevant and small but it was a part of me. So, I took care to memorize how it felt and what it smelled like. Then, I tried to memorize the shapes on the ceiling and the dark silhouettes of the trees outside of the window he used to climb through every night that belonged to the forest where I saw him for the last time. I tried to visualize everywhere he had been in this room. Our first kiss was here on this bed, and he’d come and hold me while I slept here nearly every night too. It all hurt to remember but if I forgot then it would’ve all been for nothing. I would’ve risked my life and inevitably let him shatter it for nothing. I would’ve hurt the people I love the most for nothing. 

    So, after months of denial and depression, I allowed myself to picture his face in my mind. I let myself say his name. I laid there in the dark whispering it over and over as if it were like some bloody mary curse and he’d magically appear, but he didn’t. Some part of me hoped he would because I knew I would drop everything and stay with him if he asked me to. That was the killer part. After everything that happened, everything I put Charlie and Renee through, everything I put myself through, and if he appeared one day and asked me to forgive him I would in a heartbeat. How ironic. I knew it was wrong, I knew I shouldn’t feel that way but I had no idea how to stop. I also knew I needed to figure it out because I couldn’t just abandon everything I was doing to heal what he broke at the drop of a hat. So I decided tonight was a free for all. I was going to think about him, picture him, and just face everything I’d been dreading all at once to rip the bandaid off. I needed to get it out of the way if I was going to live with Renee because she would worry and I knew he wasn’t coming back so I didn’t need to hold it all with me anymore. 

    I sighed heavily, mentally preparing myself for the pain. It had been bad at times, so bad that I didn’t think it could get much worse, but I’ve been wrong before. After a moment I closed my eyes and let my mind wander. The first image was his face, clear and perfect like always. I was shocked at how real the image looked behind my eyelids. My throat tightened, but I did my best to will my body to stay calm and relaxed. I watched his stunning face twist into a dazzling smile, looking at me with admiration and love. My heart beat faster with each of his movements and my chest began to ache mildly. This was okay, it wasn’t as nearly bad as I thought. At least it wasn’t until he spoke. His ice-cold, honey-smooth voice pierced through the night silence. 

“Bella, I love you, don’t go,” he spoke clearly, in his gorgeous voice. 

    It sounded like he was whispering right in my ear, I could’ve sworn I felt his cool breath brush my cheek. Suddenly, my heart skipped and then launched 10 beats ahead of itself. His mesmerizing sound set my entire body ablaze, burning hotter than ever before. I knew the words of my made-up Edward weren’t true, but that only made it worse. My burning lungs clued me in to the lack of air I was using. They sucked in a desperate gasp of air as my arms shot across my body and squeezed tight to hold it together. The searing and aching made me clench my teeth as tight as I could to muffle any strangled sounds that might escape and my lips clamped shut over them for extra protection. The last thing I wanted was to wake Charlie, but it just hurt so much. Like this Tsunami of red hot pain came down and crushed every ounce of what was left of me. I wanted to open my eyes, but they were locked shut because I knew when I did open them he wouldn’t be there and I wanted him to be. I wanted to be saved from this never-ending nightmare. 

    Then, the anger came. My chest was aching on top of the burning empty hole he left, it was all so much I could barely handle it. It felt like every muscle in my body was clenched so hard some of my limbs and appendages were going numb, but that didn’t soothe the burn away from them either. How was I ever going to get better? I pulled one of my arms up to my face sp I could shove my mouth into my elbow to muffle the yelps I’d been shoving back. My body started convulsing with silent, angry sobs at the release of pressure but all I could do was whine into my arm and wait it out. 

    After a while, I was able to shove everything out of my mind and force my eyes open but I laid there motionless and numb. This feeling was the closest to that night I’d felt yet. Like I had just been dumped off by everything I ever really loved, the roots of my heart aching at the absence of it’s home. It was just numb, like the feeling you’d get right after you’d fight with your best friend and you take a break from being friends. You’d just lost the one person that allowed you to be yourself and without that you were nothing, back to the drawing board, starting from scratch. There really isn’t a worse feeling than losing who you are, but above that, giving someone all the pieces of yourself that you hate the most, trusting them completely, and in the end, watching it blow up in your face. Hopefully, Florida was going to change that for me. Hopefully, Florida would fix me. 

    I noticed the black draining from the night sky now, dim light replacing the shadows of the empty walls and furniture around my room instead. There was a soft knock on the door and it clicked so Charlie could push it open. 

“Good morning, honey, today’s the day,” he spoke gently, beaming with excitement. I smiled in return and nodded. “We’ve got about thirty minutes before we should leave, I already packed your bags into your truck.”

My truck. My face fell, I’d forgotten about that old unit. I was gonna miss that truck more than everything except Charlie. I hadn’t thought about the fact that I was going to have to leave her behind.

“I forgot about my truck,” I relayed my thoughts to him to ease his confusion at my dropped expression.

“Aw, baby.”

“You’ll take care of her until I come back, right, Dad?”

“Yes, of course, you know I will,” he frowned. I nodded and smiled again. “This is gonna be great, Bells,” he said, smiling again.

“I know. I’ll see you downstairs, Dad,” I whispered, brightening my smile.

    He nodded in response and closed my door. With a heavy sigh, I let my face drop again and I floated back into numbness. It didn’t make me feel all better about leaving her, but at least I knew she was in good hands until I came back for her. I wonder what Alice thinks about me leaving. The twinge of pain in my chest made me wince. My decision had been made, I was leaving so it didn’t matter what Alice thought. 

    Once I was able to pull myself up and out of my bed for the last time, I fixed it so it was neat and shut the window. The last two things I had to do before there was nothing left here for me. I swept up the carry-on bag I’d already had prepared and with one last look around that empty room highlighted by the soft, golden, early-morning rays of the sun I slipped out the door, shutting it behind me. I trotted down the stairs in time to greet Charlie at the bottom who was about to come up and retrieve me. It was time to go I guess. He smiled affectionately at me, turning back around and heading to the front door. He swiped the keys to my truck off the hanging hooks as he passed them and I followed close behind him trying to take in every element of that house. I had no idea when I would see it next, but I wanted to remember everything. Charlie held the door open for me and locked it behind us. With the close of that door, I was closing the door on my life here in Forks too. Some parts of me felt grief for that but I couldn’t think about that now. If I thought about it too much I would talk myself out of it and it’s too late for that. Some parts of me felt hope for Florida and those were the parts I focused on.

“Can I drive?” I turned to ask Charlie.

“Of course you can,” he answered with a smile and tossed me the keys.

    I shoved the key into the lock and twisted hard to unlock my stubborn truck. She gave in easily today probably because of the abnormally warm weather considering it was Forks. I smiled to myself, opening the door and unlocking the passenger for Charlie while I climbed inside. I stuck the key in the ignition and felt her roar to life under me, sighing at the familiar feeling. 

“I’m going to miss this truck,” I breathed.

“It’ll be here waiting for you to come back, Bells,” Charlie comforted me. 

    I gave him an appreciative look, then began down the road on my way out of Forks. As much as I hated to admit it, I was going to miss this terrarium of a town, my town. It was about a 45-minute drive to the airport which we rode mostly in silence, occasionally exchanging a few questions and answers. 

“Are you sure your mother knows where to meet you?” Charlie pressed for the fourth time. 

“Yes, Dad, I told her exactly where to go. I even have my cellphone in case I need to call her, I’ll be fine,” I responded, huffing a quiet giggle. 

    In reality, I wasn’t sure Renee would know where to go, but she said she was bringing Phil and he was competent enough when it came to airports. If anything, I’d just end up being stuck there for a longer time than I expected. It was better than anything I would be doing back in Forks. As difficult as it was for me to admit, I knew this was going to be better than staying in Forks, if not for me, then at least for my parents. I needed to do something with my life other than pine for Edward. I knew that but it was just harder to admit than I thought.

    We pulled up to the airport and Charlie had me park so he could escort me in to make sure I got on my plane and to help me carry my bags because everyone knows how notorious I am for accidents. So, I got all checked in and situated, he waited with me until my plane started boarding and when he was seeing me off at the last gate he could go to he handed me a folded up piece of paper. I stared up at him in confusion.

“Jacob asked me to give you his number so the two of you can keep in touch,” he smiled sheepishly, scratching the back of his head. 

    I huffed a little chuckle and shook my head, shoving it in my pocket and then throwing my arms around him for one last goodbye hug. Charlie and I weren’t ones for showing emotion, but I decided to make an exception because I didn’t know when I’d see him again.

“I love you, Dad,” I whispered into his shoulder and he squeezed tighter in response.

“Now go, before you miss your plane,” he demanded once we’d broke away from our hug. He was doing his best to hold back tears and the guilt returned in my gut. 

“I’ll be okay, Dad. I’ll come back, I promise,” I reassured him with an affectionate smile as I made my way towards the gate. 

    He nodded, wiping his face to erase the evidence and waving at me as I backed down the hall, waving back until I rounded the corner and could no longer see him. My face fell as I turned around and continued forward. My chest began to feel tight at the realization that it was real this time. A tear escaped onto my face but I wiped it away aggressively. I was done crying, there was no way I still had tears left in me. Silently, I boarded the plane, taking my seat in very back by the window, shoving earphones into my ears and closing my eyes. This was it.

_______________________________________________________________

When I made it to Florida and had secured my bags I called Renee to see where she was.

“Hi, honey! Where are you?”

“I just left baggage claim, Mom, where ar-” “Phil says he sees you, we are outside!!” she was shouting into the phone.

    I spun around to the glass doors revealing the bright Florida sun touching everything in sight and immediately saw Phil, his height set him apart from the crowd for the most part. He was wearing sunglasses on top of his head which reminded me that I’d need to get a pair. I smiled when I met his gaze and hung up to phone. He met me at the door, taking two of my bags. 

“Hey, kiddo,” he grinned wider at me.

“Hey,” I breathed, nodding at him. 

    Lucky for me, he wasn’t really a talkative guy either. I guess Renee had a type. She was waiting out by the car practically running in place with excitement and anticipation, a huge grin painted on her face. 

“Eeeeeeeeeee!!” she squealed running up to me as soon as I was out the door, throwing herself at me.

    I instinctively dropped the bags I was holding so I could catch her, trying to keep my balance. I rolled my eyes at her and hugged her back.

“Hey, Mom,” I greeted her affectionately. She was sobbing into my shoulder now.

“Bella, I’m so glad you’re here,” she gushed. Then, she pushed me back by my shoulders.

“Look at you, you look so beautiful,” she whined sweetly. Renee was always so dramatic.

“Okay, mom,” I huffed a laugh, dragging her on one arm and my bags in the other towards the car. 

    Phil met me halfway taking the last of the bags and situating them in the car, briefly admiring my mom who was still stuck to my elbow. I smiled at him gratefully and steered her towards the back seat. I climbed in and she finally let go to climb in the front seat, grabbing my hand again once she was buckled. Maybe this was going to be a bit harder than I thought. Phil climbed into the driver’s seat and got situated, then started the drive to my new home. I’d never actually seen their house in Florida so this should be interesting.

“So, Bella, how was your flight from Washington?” Phil asked, glancing at me in the rearview mirror.

“It was good, kind of long,” I smiled in response.

“Oh honey, you’re gonna love the house,” Renee exclaimed. 

    The entire twenty-minute car trip Renee talked non-stop. Phil would glance over at her to admire her rambling face because she made many different expressions, I thought that was cute. I was glad my mom found someone who loved every part of her colorful personality. I would just sit in the back seat nodding and giving “mhm’s” when it was necessary, Renee could keep going on for hours. She was telling me about her hobbies, getting into writing, moving into the new house, and then she told me they got a puppy. My eyes grew wide and my mouth hung open.

“You got a Puppy?” I frowned. Renee definitely didn’t like pets. 

“Yes!” she beamed, vibrating with excitement as we pulled into the driveway of the house. 

    The house was not too big, but it was homey. A bit smaller than Charlie’s, it was painted a soft pastel yellow with white trim and plenty of windows. The front yard was nice and green, there also seemed to be a pretty big backyard. All in all, it was nice and bright and happy. This was going to be good. I climbed out of the car, walking around to help Phil grab my bags and then I followed Renee in. As I approached the door I heard a high-pitched yelping coming from inside making me cringe. She glanced back at me grinning with excitement, reaching to open the door. Suddenly, a little white ball of fluff bolted out the door yelping and whining, running circles around mine and my mom’s feet. I huffed quietly, watching the little dog prance around. Then, I shot Phil a disbelieving look, but he just shrugged with an affectionate smile for Renee. She was bent down greeting this puppy and sweeping it into her arms.

“Bella, this is Rosie,” she beamed, looking down at the little white puffball in her arms.

My stomach twisted wildly at the name, but I smiled for my mom and patted the dog on the head. 

“That’s great mom, I never thought you’d ever want a dog.”

“You know, neither did I, but Lelani told me her daughter was selling puppies and I just went to look, but I fell in love,” she laughed, kissing the dog on its little head. I huffed and shook my head, following her inside. 

“I’ll take you up to your room, Bella,” Phil smiled. I nodded in response, following him up the stairs.

    He took me down the hall to where my room was and left me to my unpacking, promising me he’d keep Renee busy for a while so I could settle in. I responded with an appreciative smile. I loved her but there was nothing I wanted more than some time to settle. I shut the door behind him and turned to take in everything about this new room. It felt brighter and more open than my room at Charlie’s. The walls, bedding, dresser, and desk were all white. The floor was a walnut hardwood flooring, complementing the greys and pastel colors of the decor nicely with the white. There were various small pots of cacti and succulents, decorative pillows arranged neatly on my bed, pastel blue hangers lined my closet. It was all very sophisticated and pretty, almost too pretty to live in. It was definitely a change from my cramped, dark room I had in Forks which ironically was a small, dark town compared to this big, sunny one. Florida and Forks are the most polar opposite places to live, it was only ideal that my rooms in each place were opposite as well. The farther away from my former small-town life I could get the better off I would be. 

    I decided I would put my clothes away after dinner. Instead, I flopped down onto my new bed and closed my eyes. Renee and Phil were downstairs making dinner, clunking pans around, humming and talking with each other. I was happy they were so happy together, it made me worry about Renee less when I was gone. I sighed, pinpointing different smells like the laundry soap Renee has been using since I was little radiating off my bedding, the dry and warm Florida air wafting into the room from my cracked window, and there’s a faint but distinct smell of dust because I’m sure they’d never touched this room until now. The inevitable feeling of doom looming over my head had a harder time reaching me now, the Florida sun doing its job by outshining my darkness. Hopefully, it would keep it away permanently. For now, I just wanted to adjust to this change. 

“Bella, dinners ready!” I heard Renee call. 

    I let out a content sigh and pushed myself up but before I could head for the door I heard a small bonk on the wood floor beneath me. I looked down and to my surprise, it was the piece of paper Charlie had given me with Jacob Black’s phone number on it. I raised my eyebrows, lost in thought for a moment. Maybe Jacob was exactly what I needed to stay connected to the good part of Forks that I enjoyed, that didn’t debilitate me. I smirked to myself and picked up the paper, setting it on my desk for after dinner. Then, I spun around and headed down for my first dinner with Renee and Phil since before I left for Forks. Here we go.

Tag list: @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce, @xmysec0ndself

[james-bucky-barnackle]

Two Night Stand (Part 12)

Synopsis: (AU) You found yourself at a club drinking away to forget about the stress of your shitty job as the assistant of the biggest Editor in New York, and end up hooking up with the man of your dreams only to wake up to a nightmare when you find out he’s the son of your boss.

PART 11 | 2NS Masterlist

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word Count: 1,162

A/N: I’m back, and it’s short, I’m sorry! I’m rereading all the chapters and studying them so I make any unnecessary plot holes. It’s been a while since I’ve updated it. Thank you to everyone who’s read it and is reading it!

“You’re kidding me,” I stare at Pietro who’s pulled all of us to the fire exit. He’s wearing a face mask covering the bottom half of his face. “You’ll get caught.”

“I won’t, it’s like you don’t even know me.” He fixes himself, stretching his arms, and jumping up and down.

“You still remember your way around… right?” Wanda asks, reminding both of us that it’s been years since Pietro stayed here, and although he’s fast, he’s not exactly good with directions.

“How hard can it be? It’s just a bunch of streets…” he slows down, realizing his weakness, “with buildings that look the same.”

“You sure this will work, right?” Bucky interrupts.

“Of course, JB.” He snaps his neck side to side, and smirks. “Unless you want the most obvious choice.”

“No one’s fake dating, Y/N!” Bucky snaps. My eyes grow wide as Wanda and I look at each other, snickering. Bucky grabs my hand and rubs his thumb. “Sorry, didn’t mean to shout. Just no more fake dating, god this is exhausting.”

“Whatever you say, JB.” Pietro replies. “You guys ready?”

“Uhm, errr. What other choice do we have?”

“I need to get to school! Today’s the bake sale!”

“Let’s get to our positions!” Pietro mimics military commands as Bucky shakes his head clearly unamused. He kisses my forehead before he makes his way towards the window by the fire exit. I’ve put on a gray hoodie and some sunglasses on, and nod towards the door. Pietro opens the door for me and I make my way down the stairs. I see a couple of teens with their cameras up and I lower my head. What the hell? I might need a new apartment… if only I could afford it. Pietro closes the door behind me and proceeds with part two. I slowly make my way down the stairs and Nick is nowhere to be found. Thank God.

I peep through the glass by the door and see the sea of cameras flashing in broad daylight. Okay, it’s time. By now, Wanda has positioned herself by the window, and should open the blinds just enough so that the paparazzi will look up. Bucky will have run out the balcony stairs and hopefully has gone out safely. Pietro on the other hand, Pietro… He would’ve already started preparing for his act.

“New York City! Have you ever seen the fastest man in the world run?” Pietro shouts running to the paparazzi and pausing in front of them to jog in place, Wanda takes this as her cue and opens the blinds up my bed room.

“She’s opening her window!” One of the media person shouts. Everyone whips their heads up and this is my time to exit the apartment. I hear loud snapping, screams of my name telling Wanda to look at the camera and show her face. I walk like I’m in a walkathon.

“Buddy, can you move?!” One of the guys shove Pietro, failing miserably.

“Move over!” someone else shouts. By then, phase two would begin.

“What are you doing?”

“What is he doing?”

Oh my god, this is phase two?! Pietro starts kicking off his shoes, I bite my lip looking at him from the next block behind a tree. He then pulls his sweater over, then his shirt. By this time, Bucky should be getting down the fire exit stairs. I look at my phone, anxious if I should check on him when I hear one of the paparazzi’s shout.

“Hey! Give me that!” Pietro has run off, naked, with three cameras in hand, the rest talking photos of his butt naked body running in broad daylight. Good morning to everyone, I guess.

I hug the bottom of my sleeves tight and start walking away, Wanda will have to get out on her own, her red hair will be enough for the paparazzi to give up. I hope the paparazzi doesn’t see or recognize her to be my roommate in my Instagram posts. Gosh this is such a mess. Now, I have to drop by the office wardrobe to change into something more decent and I haven’t even showered. I wonder if Bucky got out okay.

“Y/L/N!” I hear my name called, I look around and see a black Subaru slow down by the street. I pull my hoodie, how smart are these photo hogging – “it’s Steve! Get in!” What? I peep down my sunglasses and I see his blue eyes through the small crack in his window. He waves me over and I quickly get in.

“Hey! How did you-“ I get cut off, “Bucky!”

“I texted him as soon as the whole thing started.” I hug him tight, almost leap into his lap… oh who am I kidding, I leaped hard into his lap.

“This is Peggy,” Steve continues, and my cheeks heat up. “Peggy, this is Y/N.” I loosen my arm around Bucky, embarrassed at my sudden outburst, but he pulls me closer and buries his head in my neck.

“oof! Hi Peggy.” I say, feeling Bucky’s breath on my skin. He’s obviously still sleepy, as am I to be honest.

“Huge crowd you guys have.” Peggy says, and I shrug.

“Might have to move into a new apartment after this, change my name, hair, get a nose job maybe?”

“Shhhh.” Bucky nuzzles into me, pulling me closer.

“You can stay in my hotel for the time being.” Peggy offers and I’m very flattered but confused. She doesn’t even know me, I don’t even know her. Although this has become a general concern, I am not about to bombard her with my issues.

“She’ll stay in mine.” Bucky pulls away and straightens.

“Uhm, I don’t think that’s smart.”

“Y/N’s right, Buck.” Steve laughs.

“What do you suggest?”

“Peggy’s would be smart.”

“I’m thankful for the offer but I’ll have to pass, I’m sure you’ll miss your privacy. I’ll find somewhere to crash in later.” I’m already making a mental note to ask Nat. The list of things I owe her has been piling up.

__________________________________________________________

So much for coming to work early and “borrowing” clothes from the wardrobe department, Peggy has let me borrow one of her free-sized dresses. These look uhm, too posh for my taste, but it’ll have to do considering I even had the opportunity of showering before heading to the office. The moment I get to the office I’m already scrolling through memos and things that needed to be done today when Peter rushes to my side with his iPad.

“Have you seen this, Ms. Y/N?!”

“What?” I get a closer look at the image he’s showing me, “Oh god.”

It’s a photo of me and Thor, beside a photo of Bucky and the girl in the orange camisole, with a cut out of Dolores’ candid, doodled on with “oops.”

I read the title saying, “Dolores Wang or Y/N Y/L/N? Who really is she?” I think I’m going to faint.

____________________________________________________________

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