#i think its because it literally sounds like he took a normal sentence consulted his thesaurus and replaced 75% of the words with

[stevethehairington]

man ive been doing great with my "read 100 pages a day" goal for like. every book ive read this year so far... EXCEPT this one 😩 i just cannot make it past 50 in one day and that is SUCH a bummer to me

[princesskokichi]

shuichi, keebo, fuyuhiko, kiyotaka, and izuru asking their crush to call them by their first name

ahh, i had so much fun writing this ! 

yes, i know keebo doesn’t have a last name.

don’t judge me

he babie - mod kokichi

[ S H U I C H I ]

- this !!! he was going to do this today !

- he talked to each one of his best friends individually to see what they would say

- and they all agreed with him that s / o was totally into him !!

- which is so good but,,

- how would he tell you ?

- would he write it out in a note and give it to you ? profess it loudly ? tell you in a quiet way ?

- he pondered this for the longest time

- in the end, he decided to do something subtle about the change in the relationship

- well, not really subtle, but it was the best choice that he could think of that almost couldn't end in failure.

- he got so excited that he could hardly wait !! so he decided that he was going to do his thing tomorrow !

- during the lunch break at school, you were sitting with him as usual

- kaede had been absent that day, and she usually helped you with your math homework

- maki and kaito decided they were going to pick up snacks from the vending machines, so it was just the two of you

- s / o : "saihara-kun, can you help me with my math homework today ? i don't exactly understand it,, "

- he fluctuated in his resolve for a moment, almost wanting to drop the subject all together and just help you with your math

- but he wouldn't allow himself to give up that easily, or else he had 03 friends who would personally seek the end of him

- shuichi : " hey, i can but, can you do me a favor ? "

- s / o : " i can do everything but help you with your math homework, saihara-kun. "

- shuichi : " can you, uh, can you,, canyoucallmebymyfirstname ? with, uhm,, without honorifics,"

- he spoke really fast, his words conjoined together and it went over your head for a moment

- s / o :  " h-huh ? why would i do that ? "

- shuichi : " well, we're close aren't we ? ah, nevermind, it's okay. forget i said anything. "

- you stayed silent for a little while, and shuichi was really starting to rethink his entire approach to this situation

- maki and kaito came back, munching on foods

- maki : " so ? how is everything. "

- s / o : " shuichi is going to teach me my math homework. "

- he visibly lost 05 years off his lifespan, but in a good way

- shuichi : " is it okay if i come visit you at your place today to tutor you, s / o ? "

[ K E E B O ]

( i changed it up a little for his, i hope that's okay ,, )

- he was always constantly learning about the world around him

- in school, he got really surprised to see the use of honorifics and last names

- in fact, he once called his teacher by their first name without honorifics and got detention for two days for that

- after that little mistake, he took it upon himself to learn what he didn't know about the japanese culture and their understanding of names

- while he believed the word of the internet and all of his sources, he felt like this kind of thing was better to consult a person who grew up in this society would be

- so he asked you, one of his best friends, about it

- you explained to him that first names were reserved for people you were close with

- and that honorifics showed respect for those of higher positions, age, or others

- he had asked a ton of questions that night, pretty amazed at how much knowledge you possessed on the subject and how well you presented it

- after that, he would come to you whenever he had a question about the japanese society that he didn't understand

- which was pretty often tbh he's an inquisitive boy

- after a few months of talking to you almost daily, he started to feel weird, like his circuits were heating up

- even though he knew it was irrational, he wanted to spend as much time as possible with you

- he wanted,, to be closer to you

- he consulted miu with this question, purely because she was the ult inventor after all

- she told him that he was catching feelings

-,,in miu's own way, but it was understandable

- he was a little surprised afterwords

- he was,, romantically attracted to you ? that's surprising

- he had to tell you, in a way he knew you would appreciate

- he texted you to meet him at the park immediately after his meeting with miu, and waited there for you to arrive

- when he saw you, he jumped out of the bench he was sitting at

- keebo : " s / o ! i have come to a startling conclusion, and i want you to listen to me for a moment. "

- you flushed up, telling yourself that he just forgot how last names work in japan.

- s / o : " ah, i'm listening senpai. "

- keebo : " i want to call you by your first name instead of l / n-san. if you,, if you want. "

- oh, he didn't just forget,,

- s / o : " that's pretty bold, senpai. and a little unexpected. "

- his gaze was unfaltering, watching you with expectation as he gathered his next sentence.

- keebo : " will you accept this change ? "

- s / o : " yeah. yeah, i do, keebo. "

[ F U Y U H I K O ]

- he really didn't give a shit about respect or anything like that

- of course, he never really used last names, either

- most of the times, he just called a person a curse word to refer to them

- well, that is most of the time

- and then you came by into his life, and he forgot all about that act of his

- he was never prim and proper, but he was respectful to you, which meant a lot coming from a guy who likes his persona of an asshole

- mainly, he followed your lead

- if you would call him a nickname, he had a nickname for you

- if you called him by his last name, he would call you by your last name

- but the thing is, you never went past the respectful way of referring to him

- so all of these nicknames and playful things he had prepared to call you were completely useless

- unless  you decided you wanted to be closer than just respectful friends

- if he did it, he felt like he was just going to sound like his usual asshole self and you wouldn't think much of it

- or worse

- you'd think less of him, and that's something he does not want

- so he waited

- and waited

- and waited

- until he literally could not wait anymore

- he paced back and forth in his bedroom, peko barely paying attention to him as she read her book

- fuyuhiko : " how do i show that bi-i, uh, l / n-san,, , that i want to be more than just typical friends with them ? "

- peko : " have you tried asking them ? "

- fuyuhiko : " asking them what ? "

- peko : " to call you by your first name and not your family name. have you tried that ? "

- fuyuhiko : " ,, peko, you are a genius ! "

- peko : " i know i am. "

- even though he was getting frustrated with the situation, it still took him nearly a week to get the courage to ask you

- and even then, it was only because it was the heat of the moment

- you'd been playing with him the entire day, poking his cheek or his shoulder and whispering " kuzuryu-kun, pay attention to meee "

- s / o, while poking his cheek : " kuzuryu-kun, kuzuryu-kun, kuzuryu-kun, kuzu- "

- fuyuhiko : " i'll pay attention to you if you call me by my name, geez ! it's annoying to hear you say " kuzuryu-kun " so often. "

- you stopped in your tracks for a moment, your face incredibly red and nervous.

- and then

- s / o : " fuyuhiko, fuyuhiko, fuyuhiko, fuyuhiko, fuyuhi- "

- ah, yes, true love

[ K I Y O T A K A ]

- he upheld standards really well

- okay, maybe not just " really well "

- he lives nearly every day of his life adhering to the rules, both of society and school

- so he took stuff like that very seriously

- in fact, you two knew each other for more than a year before he even started to get the idea of changing from just polite friends to closer than such

- the idea came to him while he was talking to you at the library

- taka : " ah, i think cereal is the most adequate food to eat for breakfast, what do you think s / - i mean ! l / n -san ! "

- you had flushed up red immediately, but not nearly as red as he was

- he could not believe that he almost screwed up like that, seriously

- both you and him pretended like that little slip up never happened for the entire time at the library

- and for the next week, it was back to normal

- well, as normal as it was going to get at hope's peak academy

- until one night, you finally texted him

- it was completely out of the blue at nearly nine pm, just barely an hour before he went to sleep

- s / o : " hey, remember that day at the library ? "

- he almost threw his phone, oh gosh darnit

- taka : " yeah, sure do. what's this about suddenly ? "

- s / o : " well, i just wanted to know,,, why did you almost call me by my given name ? "

- taka : " i was not thinking ! i apologize if i overstepped my boundaries, l / n-san ! "

- s / o : " no, just checking. well, its getting late, i should be going to sleep. goodnight kiyotaka. "

- after reading that text nearly a million times

- he finally came to the conclusion that yes, indeed, you did say that

-  and now he had to do something about it

- at school the next day, while walking to his locker, he saw you reading your textbook to get an early start for your language class

- taka : " hey, l / n-san !"

- s / o : " oh, ishimaru-kun ! hi ! "

- he sat down beside you on the bench, reading your book slightly

- taka : " i have a favor to ask of you ! please, refer to me as kiyotaka ! in the same context, i will refer to you as s / o ! ,,, if that is acceptable ? "

- s / o : " ah ! i can do that, kiyo ! "

- taka : " now, let's get to class, i don't want to be late. "

- s / o : " we have ten minutes before class starts. "

[ I Z U R U ]

- listen, i know the request said " shy boys " but izuru just got stuck in my head and wouldn't let me write this without writing him, so here he is

- first things first that he does not care about being proper

- literally, it mattered zero to him

- however, he still stuck to calling everyone [ last name ]-san, purely because he didn't want anyone to get the wrong idea about him or any of his friends that he talked to on a daily basis

- one time that happened with chiaki where a rumor was being spread that he was in a romantic relationship with her and she almost killed him on the spot upon learning of it

- he doesn't fear death, but he fears chiaki

- just a little bit tho

- so while it didn't matter to him, he still got used to saying it

- however, when you joined the group, he wanted to call you by simpler terms for a different reason

- he spent a long time trying to figure out what was wrong with him when he talked to you

- he would feel his face heat up, and it was significantly harder to think of words to say when you were around, even if he wasn't directly talking to you

- and dear god don't get near him or he felt like he was going to combust

- what the fuck were these feelings ?

- even though he was a mess inside, he kept it calm and rational to everyone else

- and by that, i mean he looked like he always did, uncaring about everything in the universe

- since he always seemed like he didn't care, you were known for messing around with him, or more specifically - his hair

- brushing his hair and braiding it seemed to be your favorite pastime

- during lunch, you would sit on the table while he sat down on the bench, and would just brush away with your soft pastel purple brush

- whenever you would, it took everything out of him not to curse at you for,,,

- he didn't know really why he felt like cursing at you

- there were just a lot of feelings in one body, something he wasn't used to

- one day was going very well

- you were idly talking between chiaki and nagito while brushing izuru's hair

- hajime was somewhere, probably retaking a test because he failed his exam last time

- you were humming, trying to pull all of his hair into a ponytail so you could make a few braids in it

- s / o : " kamukura-kun, can you push your hair from your face, i can't reach it - "

- izuru : " must you always play with my hair, s / o ? "

- s / o : " huh ? oh, yeah. yeah, it's kind of mandatory, kamukura-kun. "

- izuru : " my name is izuru. "

- wait, what was he saying ?

- s / o : " k-kamukura-kun,, , "

- izuru : " izuru. "

- you two went back and forth until you finally gave up, giving into his requests

- s / o : " geez, you're so,, ugh ! why do you have to have such nice hair izuru ? "

[little-firestar]

The consultant from Austin

“I can’t believe that you would do that to me!” Kay lifted her eyes from her paperwork as soon as she heard Cameron’s extremely disappointed voice, and stared at him, quizzically.

He didn’t bother with an answer, though; he just walked into her office, with what looked like a pout printed on his features, his arms crossed as to shield himself from her very presence.

Kay waited for some kind of explanation, but, when it never came and silence instead stood in its place, she asked directly. “And what exactly did I do to you?”  

“That is what you did to me.” His lips in a thigh line, he indicated the small group of people gathered outside of Deakins’ office – the woman herself, Alvarez and a brunette woman and a blonde man who weren’t from the unit. “I can’t believe that I had to find it out from Mike of all people! Something juicy happens, you are supposed to call me!”

“Yeah, but,” She chuckled, lifting a perfect an eyebrow. “This is not a case that involves the Deception group. It’s just fraud, not something juicy.”

“That man is involved? It has to be juicy, trust me!” Cameron was a second away from stomping around like a child, and he kept stealing glances at the blonde man talking with Deakins. Cameron looked like not the grown-up man he was supposed to be (not that he really liked to behave like an adult on any normal day), but like a teenager who had just been banned from going to the concert of some pop artist.

Sighing, Kay started looking at the man who seemed to catch so much of Cameron’s attention. She was eyeing him suspiciously, as she didn’t get why Cameron was so fascinated with him. “Cameron, I don’t understand, what’s so great about the people from the Austin office?”

“The people from the Austin office? Kay, are you out of your mind? Do you have any idea who that man is?” Cameron hissed, his eyes as huge as saucers, like he had just witnessed Kay committing some kind of atrocious crime – seriously, had he seen her kicking a puppy, he would have been less shocked.

“I know that he is from the Austin office and he is working a fraud case.” She opened her arms, and spelled the whole sentence out like she was talking with a kid that also happened to be hard of hearing.

Cameron shook his head, rolling his eyes dramatically, and let himself fall on the chair in front of Kay’s desk, like the realization that she really didn’t know who she was dealing with had caused him to lose all of his forces. “You really don’t know who he is. But, don’t you people, like, take information on everyone just looking at your building?”

She laughed – and her smile enlightened the room, and Cameron cleared his throat, as he felt himself blushing like he was a teenager. “The Austin office vouched for him, that’s enough for us. Apparently, he’s been working with them for years. But why the interest?”

Cameron chuckled, tilting his head to the side a little. “I guess we can say we come from the same world, in a way. And I’m not saying that just because we both happen to be consultants for the FBI.”

Kay narrowed her eyes and crossed her arms, suddenly curious. She hadn’t been directly involved in this case – Deakins had wanted to see if Mike would have been able to fly solo – and gossip wasn’t her usual cup of tea, so she didn’t really know the ins and outs of this investigation, nor the players involved. But, Cameron had stirred her curiosity, and now she wanted to know more – just as a good FBI agent. “Oh?”

Cameron nodded. “We were both frequent attenders of the Vegas scene, a few years back. Of course, Johnny and I were both just teenagers at the time, and we never really pretended to be something we weren’t…”

“You mean, besides pretending that you were the same person?” She chuckled, lifting again that perfect eyebrow- and Cameron hated how that sight stirred something in him he was still a little uncomfortable with.

He huffed, rolling his eyes, a little bit annoyed. Like he needed reminding of that. “Yeah, well, of course, if you take away the fact that there were two of us and only one of him, I think we’ve got a lot of things in common.”

“What’s his story anyway?” She asked, looking at the man. His partner had, apparently, joined Deakins and Mike in their boss’ office, but he was leaning against the doorframe, sipping some beverage from what looked like… like a tiffany azure porcelain teacup.

Yep. She could understand why Cameron seemed fascinated by the man. They were weird eggs. The both of them.

Cameron took a big breath, and suddenly did his best to appear serious – even if he looked like one the guys who used to narrate ghost stories in front of the camp fire back when she was a kid. “Back when he was a kid, his father built his show around his son…”

“Does the story ends with the world discovering he had a secret twin behind the scenes?” She asked, amused.

“Yeah, no, it wasn’t that kind of show. He pretended to be a psychic. Basically, he was a con artist. Made a fortune out of it. I mean, I used to see pictures of his mansion. He was filthy rich. Not that there was anything good in getting rich by conning desperate and sick people, or that I was jealous, I’m just saying.”

“So, what? The FBI… debunked him? That’s how he got to work with them?” Kay looked again at the man. He didn’t look like the glamorous con-artist Cameron was describing. Yes, he was clean, but the suit was old and a little bigger, as he had lost weight and had never gotten around to replace it.

“Oh, no, it wasn’t the FBI- a serial killer did it.” Kay stared at Cameron, eyes wide open, as in shock or disbelief. “Guy wanted to lift his profile and tried to insert himself into the investigation. When the Feds asked him to turn around and mind his own business, he tried to force their hands by doing a TV special. The killer didn’t like it, and when our man there came back home, he found his wife and his daughter slaughtered – kid was only, I don’t know, five or six, I think?”

“That’s awful…” Kay added, as it was an afterthought, her voice low. She felt a knot in her throat, and she felt… awful for the poor man. Losing her sister in the way she had was bad enough, but she couldn’t even fathom the pain of finding your wife and your baby girl butchered, for something you’ve done. How had he kept his sanity?

Cameron nodded. “It took him a decade, but, at the end, he and the cops found out the killer’s identity. Last thing I’ve heard, our man here killed him in self-defense.”

“You were talking about me.” Kay jumped – literally – in her seat when she heard the unknown voice interrupting her conversation with Cameron. She stared, eyes wide open in shock, at the cheerful consultant of the Austin office, leaning against her office doorframe like he belonged there, teacup still in hand. She was a little shocked- he had been so stealthy she hadn’t noticed anyone approaching until he had made his presence known by speaking, full of himself, sure that he was the center of the discussion.

(Which, in truth, he was.)

Cameron? He looked like a kid overdosing on sugar. Or a puppy in need of attention.

The Austin consultant waltzed into her office, and, cup still in hand, he shook Kay’s hand. “Agent Daniels, I presume? I’ve heard a lot of things about you from Agent Alvarez- all good, I assure you.”

“Thank you very much, Mister…” Kay said, her voice a bit low, as she looked suspiciously, or at least weirded out, at the man strongly shaking her hand.

“Jane - Patrick Jane. I work as a consultant for the Austin office, but I think you are already aware of that. And you,” Jane turned to look at Cameron, without letting it go of Kay’s hand. “You must be Cameron Black. I went to one of your shows, once – nothing to write home about, mind you. Kind of saw the whole twin thing coming.”

“Oh, really?” Cameron grunted, crossing his arms defensively, making Kay chuckle – apparently, meeting his “hero” hadn’t lived to Cameron’s expectations.

“Well, of course I’m the exception to any rule, so I know that nobody else saw that coming, but, well, I was really good at what I did. I still am, matter of fact.” Jane beamed, filled to the brim with pride.

He had finally let it go of Kay’s hand, and had abandoned the empty teacup on her desk. Hands in his pockets, he was bouncing on his heels, grinning mischievous. He had a strange light in his eyes – one that Kay didn’t like – because it looked like he knew something and couldn’t wait to open Pandora’s box.

“Anyway, mister Black, take consolation in knowing that you at least have really great taste when it comes to women. Although I’m kind of biased here – I did marry my FBI handler, after all.” Jane chuckled, shameless, and Kay swore that she saw Cameron’s Adam’s apple jumping in his throat.

“I’m sorry, Mister Jane, but I don’t understand…” She said, a little amused. Who was he talking about? And why was Cameron so nervous?

“Oh, you mean he hasn’t told you yet?” Jane laughed, shaking his head and clapping his hands, before turning to Cameron, who seemed, all of a sudden, very interested in the ceiling. “Please, please, tell me that you at least know that you are in love with her.”

Kay just laughed her head off, so hard that her side started to hurt. But then, her eyes fell on Cameron, and she swallowed hard, and no sound left her throat. He was tense, his expression a mixture of pain, shame and rage, and he was…

He was blushing. Cameron Black was actually blushing. Like a teenager.

“You son of a…” Cameron hissed, and then turned toward Jane. Before anyone could see that coming, let alone stop it, Jane was clenching a bloody nose, and Cameron was painfully shaking an hand that was already swelling, as red as a tomato.

“Cameron!” Kay screamed, covering her mouth as in shock. Of course she knew he could hit – but the only times she had seen him fight, was when he had to defend himself. Cameron had never attacked anyone before – especially not in the FBI building and not in front of her!                

“Mister Jane, I’m so sorry!” She immediately joined him on the other side of her desk, offering the Austin consultant an handkerchief, and gnashing her teeth at Cameron, who was pouting like a kid and didn’t look a little bit ashamed. If nothing else, he seemed disappointed that he had gotten only a bloody nose to his “enemy” and that his hand was still in pain. “Cameron! What the hell were you thinking!”

“What? You are mad with me? What about him? I’ve been hiding cards in your pockets for months, and it was all building up to the queen  and king of hearts, when I would have told you that I love you in front of a chandelier dinner with good music and nice food and, and, and he went and ruined it all!”

Cameron was actually ranting, and Kay, quizzically, wondered how much of it he actually wanted to say and how much had just came out because he was mad and disappointed – a bit like when Mike explained his magic tricks while Cameron was still performing them.

“Jane, what do you think you are…. OH MY GOD, JANE!” The brunette from the Austin office stared at Jane with eyes wide open, but she quickly regained her composure. She actually rearranged her blazer, clearing her throat, and with nonchalance, she took a small packet of instant ice from her pocket and, after having broken the inside bubble, she offered it to Jane without even meeting his eyes. The man was still clenching his bloody nose, but his mood had suddenly changed. Gone was the full-of-himself jerk she had met, and now he seemed more like a kid who had just disappointed his parents.

“Ma’am… whatever he did, I’m so, very sorry for my consultant’s behavior. I can assure you that it will not happen again.” Kay opened her mouth in shock. The woman’s consultant was clenching his nose and she was asking them for forgiveness? Kay was that close to look around for hidden cameras- it had to be an elaborate joke, right?

“Of course it’s not gonna happen again! He stole my love declaration! What is he gonna do next, uh? Steal my proposal, too?” Cameron blushed again, and turned to look at Kay, stuttering a little and looking apologetic. “Not that I want to propose. I mean, of course I want to propose. Just, not right away? Because we need to know each other first. Not that I don’t know you, and you don’t know me, because we do, but I mean as a couple. Not that we are one. Yet. Okay, you know what? I really don’t know why I’m still talking, because I believe that I embarrassed myself enough.”

“I’m so, so sorry.” The handler sighed. From the look of things, she was barely containing her anger- Jane seemed to be in an hell of troubles.

“BUD TEREDA, HE BOK BY NOZ!” Jane tried to say, still clenching his nose, the words leaving his mouth almost uncompressible to the untrained ear.

The handler shook her head, and offered her hand to Kay, still looking like what had happened was somehow Jane’s fault- or hers. “Special Agent Teresa Lisbon. I guess you’ve already met the idiot here – Patrick Jane.”

“Yep. He introduced himself. Right before spoiling my love declaration to Kay.” Cameron, crossed arms, pouted. “I’m Cameron Black, former world’s greatest illusionist, and this is Special Agent Kay Daniels.”

Lisbon chuckled. “Ah. A former fake psychic and a former illusionist. The FBI really knows how to choose their consultants, uh?” She joked. Then, she turned to face Jane, and looked at him in silence, as she was expecting him to open his mouth and just say something.

But, he never opened his mouth – it was instead Kay who spoke. “Agent Lisbon, I don’t know what you think happened here, but Mister Jane is not at fault. Mister Black attacked him and…”

But Lisbon lifted her hand, stopping Kay. “Agent Daniels, the reason I keep instant ice in my pockets? It’s because he gets a bloody nose at least once a week, and that’s when we are lucky. He got punched? Trust me: he went looking for it. I mean, you know how he started working with me? Because he annoyed so much one of my fellow agents that he got punched and promised my boss he would have sued us for millions if we didn’t give him access to our cases.”  

Pointing a finger in the injured man’s direction Lisbon turned to look at Jane, who looked at least ashamed, if nothing else – even if Cameron had the impression he was acting for Lisbon’s benefit. “And you. You do something like that again– or anything at all, and I swear that sleeping on the couch will be the last of your problems.”

“But…”

But, before he could add anything to the single word, Lisbon – who, Cameron had understood, was the famous wife/handler - silenced him with her glare. “Jane, seriously, don’t make it worse. I’m already mad with you because you had to buy that hovel because it was oh so romantic the idea of renovating it on your own… and now I’ve been living in my boss’ guest-room for three bloody years because it leans to the side and you are too proud to ask for any help! But you know what? First thing first when we get back in Austin? I’m calling a construction company! Why on Earth I thought you could be the man in our marriage, I have no idea…”

“But…” But, Lisbon glared again, and indicated the door, strongly suggesting that if he cared about his well-being (and still being married to her) he would just leave the room and pretend nothing of that ever happened.

“Again, I’m sorry. And… nice to have met you, and good luck with your love declaration.” She finished the sentence as she wasn’t sure those were the words to say, to use – Kay guessed she was right, after all, there was no manual who said how to behave in such situations – and, clearing her voice, Lisbon left the room.

“Wow, did that really just happened?” Cameron asked, looking at the door as to have confirmation that it hadn’t been just a dream- a nightmare, actually.

“Yes, Cameron, it just did.” Kay lifted an eyebrow, crossed arms, joining her “consultant”/observer in front of her desk. “So, care to elaborate on the elaborate card trick?”

“Yeah, well…” He scratched the back of his head, sheepish. “As I said, you weren’t supposed to find out like that. The declaration was still a few months away.”

Kay looked at him, suddenly pained. If he knew how he felt, if he was sure of his feelings… why hid them, and play games? In her mind, there was only a possible answer: Cameron was buying himself time – to just escape his feelings, make sure that he could put this silly notion of love behind himself.

“That’s’…” he shook his head, reading her thoughts. “I wasn’t planning on not telling you. But, I wanted to make sure that you knew I wasn’t going away – that I’m staying, that this is my place. I know how it hurt, when Johnny took my place and you thought I was gone and that I turned my back on you. I just… I wanted for you to know that it’s just not happening. Just because we’ve put the whole MW business behind us and Johnny is free, I’m not leaving you.”

Kay was speechless. She gasped as for air, trying to find the right words. But, she stood in silence, for she didn’t think there was enough words – or the right ones- to answer Cameron, to tell him what she felt and just how much.

“Kay? You are supposed to say something?” He asked her, biting his lips and tapping with his right foot on the floor.

“Jonathan… he didn’t tell you? What… what I told him when he left to go against MW on his own…”

“So you… are in love with Johnny? That’s what you are trying to say?” Camron asked, a little confused.

But Kay shook her head. “What? No! When he left… I thought it was you. And I told him…” She took a big breath. “I told you that I wanted to be in your life… and not just like an FBI agent. Not just… like a friend.”  

This time, it was Cameron’s time to be speechless- he just checked the time like it was normal and they had just been speaking about the weather, instead of having a world-altering conversation. “Cameron? Say something. You are starting to scare me.”

“All right, listen…” he said matter-of-factly, in a take-charge matter. “I’m going back to the Archives, I’m preparing you the candlelight dinner you are supposed to get in this kind of situation, I’ll select nice music and then I guess we will have our dinner and we will dance and I will cover you in kisses.”

Kay blushed, smiling, and nodded. “Sounds like a date.”

“Yeah. Because it was supposed to be one- our first. Before Mister Jane  had to go and ruin it all.”

“Did he really?” She asked, lifting an eyebrow.

Cameron blushed, and lowered his eyes. “Yeah. I guess you are right.”

He left the room, walking backwards as long as he could, so that he didn’t have to stop looking at Kay, and her smile and the happiness radiating from her eyes. She had always been beautiful, but this? She was even more perfect in his eyes right now.

She was everything he had always wanted and needed, without being aware of it.

And… and she wanted him. Him. Despite everything that happened… she still wanted him.

She had always wanted him. And Johnny knew. And he had kept it from him- his own twin brother.                              

“Ah, Johnny, there’s gonna be hell to pay for this. But first… where could I get the best Crème brûlée of the city at this time of the day?”

[valeriaanne]

Scientifically Speaking - Sherlock fanfic

Fanfiction   Ao3

Hello Everyone :) Since I do have a cat, I know what it must be like to Molly. I know what it looks like when your cat wants to…uhm….get married xD This story is for all the cats and their owners out there :) and of course, for each and everyone who enjoys Sherlolly stories. Hope you like it :) Disclaimer: Unfortunately, I don’t own Sherlock or its amazing characters. If only I did ^_^ The lines in italic are inside Sherlock’s Mind Palace. The lines in bold-italic are Molly’s inner thoughts.

“Please, Justin. I need a solution as soon as possible. I can’t take it anymore. The moans are just too loud.”

Sherlock was –as usual- sticking his eyes to the lens of his favorite microscope in the Pathology Lab, running one of his experiments when, out of nowhere, he heard those words. He lifted his head sharply; looking around frantically for the source of the voice when his eyes fell on Molly, standing by an open window at the end of the lab, looking through it and talking on her mobile phone.

The moans, what the hell?

“Justin, I really need to meet you today. I can’t postpone this anymore. I am just so tired of it.” Molly said in frustration.

Dammit, Molly. What are you doing? How could you?

The question is, ‘how dare she?’, mate.

John, stop interfering with my thoughts.

I am your thoughts.

Correction; you are my dumbest thoughts.

Alright, time to put the experiment aside. Time to see what this pathologist is doing. Sherlock turned his whole body to watch Molly, determined to know what the hell was happening.

“Justin, please. It won’t take long. Tell me where you want us to meet and I will be there. I won’t take much of your time.” Molly said, almost pleading.

Come on, Molly. If you are actually humiliating yourself that much for sexual release, at least make the most out of it and have fun. And on second thoughts, why can’t you just have fun with me?

Because you are no fun, mate….

Not now, John.

….and you are married to your work.

I am simply ignoring you.

“Oh, thanks, Justin. You are a life saver.” Molly said happily. Sherlock narrowed his eyes.

Life saver?! I am a life saver. I put criminals in jail.

“Great, I will be there on time. Thank you, Justin. Love you.”

“Love you”? Seriously, Molly? Since when did you start loving anyone else other than m-? Wait, where did that thought come from?

From your own mind, mate.

Silence, John, or I swear I will put you on permanent mute.

Sherlock watched Molly as she hung up, put her phone in the pocket of her lab coat, and then walked to a microscope on another table across him to resume her work, looking relieved.

Before he can even stop himself, Sherlock found himself saying, “Molly, I need your help with an experiment.”

Molly raised her head to look at him, then said, “Um, okay. How long will it take?”

“About two hours.” he answered quickly, probably quicker than he should have.

Molly frowned slightly before saying, in an apologetic tone, “Oh, no, I can’t. Sorry, Sherlock.”

“Your shift is not over yet, Molly.” he said, trying to sound as calm as possible.

“Yes, but it will be over soon and I need to be somewhere else.”

“Well, can’t you just postpone your date?” he said, feeling quite irritated, but keeping it under his blank demeanor.

“No, I actually can’t post- wait, what? What date?”

“Your date.”

“Who said anything about a date?” she asked, confused.

“I heard you on the phone, talking to someone named Gustin or Rustin….” he said, trying to sound indifferent.

“Justin.” she corrected him.

He shrugged and said, “Yes, maybe that one. I don’t know. I wasn’t really listening; your voice was just…” and he waved his hand dramatically in the air, “…..too loud.”

“Yes, well….Justin is a friend and I am meeting him to take something from him.” she said, not understanding why Sherlock thought Justin was her date.

Take something from him? Is that what you call it these days? Fine, who am I to judge?

You are the man she wants, Sherlock.

John, do you see that room at the end of the hallway? This is your room. Go and lock yourself up before I kick you out of my Mind Palace.

“Sherlock, are you listening?” Molly asked him, a bit concerned.

Her voice pulled him from his Mind Palace. “Yes, of course. Take something from him. Right.” he said, before clearing his throat.

“Alright.” she said quietly and turned to continue her work.

So, that’s it, then? Are you going to abandon me and my very important experiment so that you can go spend some time with Gustin?

It’s Justin, mate. Not Gustin.

What are you still doing outside your room? I confine you to your room… And now, Time to concoct a plan. No, there is no time for plans. Time to attack.

Suddenly, Sherlock jumped on his feet, and as fast as he could, he walked to where Molly sat on a lab stool. He towered over her, and she stared at him, quite puzzled with his odd and sudden behavior.

“Sherlock?!!” she muttered.

Sherlock locked his hands behind his back, then looked down at her as if he was looking at a child and said in a firm tone, “Seriously, Molly; Just because you ended your engagement with Meat Dagger, doesn’t mean you get to throw yourself at other men just to get some angry sex….or whatever this is.”

“WHAT?!!!!” Molly yelled, literally taken aback, that she almost fell off her lab stool, if not for holding tightly on the edge of the lab table. Her face turned as red as a cherry.

“The moans are just too loud. I can’t take it anymore. I am just so tired of it.” Sherlock said in annoyance, mimicking her way of speaking.

Molly frowned for a few moments, trying to comprehend what Sherlock was saying, and to calm her heart that was already beating faster than normal.

How could he say something like that to me? Molly felt she was about to cry, but before her eyes got watery enough, it suddenly hit her, and her eyes widened in surprise.

Molly stood up slowly and stared at Sherlock, “Hold on for a second, Sherlock. What did you think I was talking about on the phone?”

Sherlock huffed and said, “Come on, Molly. You are not an idiot, so don’t act like one. If you wanted to hide your secret in the first place, you shouldn’t have talked where I can easily hear. Or did you want me to?!!”

Molly stared at him for a few more seconds, before she suddenly burst out laughing. “No, ser-seriously….just, wait. Oh, God, Sher-Sherlock.”

Sherlock rolled his eyes, turning around before saying, “And now she is laughing at me. Perfect.”

Molly was laughing loudly, holding her stomach that hurt her because of her hard laughs that shocked her entire body, “Y-you are unb-believable.”

Sherlock turned sharply to stare at her, before shouting, “Me? I am unbelievable? I big to differ, Dr. Hooper.”

“Alright, ju-just wait. I need to br-breathe.” Molly was really having a hard time trying to catch her already-very-short breaths.

“Are you done breathing?” Sherlock asked impatiently, tapping his foot angrily.

“Just hold-hold on, Sherlock.” Now that her laughs reduced into giggles, she was able to say more constructive sentences. She raised her head to look at him, before taking long deep breaths in an attempt to calm herself down.

She swallowed and said, “You really thought I was talking to Justin about me and him having sex?”

Sherlock raised one eyebrow, as if saying, ‘I don’t think so, I know so.’

Molly retuned to sit on her lab stool and said, still grinning widely, “This whole phone call was not about me.”

He said nothing, still raising his eyebrow and still looking angry.

She sighed and said, “It’s for Toby, Sherlock.”

“Toby?”

“Yes, Toby, my cat.”

He scrunched his nose and said, “Justin is for your cat?!!”

“Justin?!… No, God, no. Not Justin. Justin’s cat.” she exclaimed.

“Justin’s cat?”

“Yes, Justin’s cat; Cookie.”

“Cookie?”

“That’s the cat’s name, yes. Toby wants to mate and Cookie is the lucky one.”

“Lucky one?”

“Oh, for the love of God. Why are you repeating everything I say?” she shouted.

Sherlock blinked once, then again, and then stared at Molly for three seconds before blinking again.

How can he manage to look so absolutely adorable by just blinking?!!! Jesus, I am such a lost cause.

Molly pulled herself out of her thoughts about one consulting detective’s adorable blinking, sighed heavily, praying silently for some patience, then quietly said, “Apparently, I need to explain this.”

She placed her palms on her knees before saying as calm as she could manage, given the strange situation, “Scientifically speaking, Sherlock, cats need to mate, naturally….almost like any other living creature.”

Almost like me, actually, but never mind my existence, thank you.

“I have a male cat, Justin has a female cat. We will put them together, and let Mother Nature take its course.” She said simply, as if saying that 1+1=2.

Yes, nature! Why can’t nature just take its course with me? I am a living creature, too, you know.

“We just needed to wait for a few days because Cookie was not…..in the mood yet. That’s all.”

Sherlock blinked once more, before he said in a whisper, “Oh.”

“Yes.” Molly said, trying to suppress her wide smile, but in vain. “Are we done now?”

Sherlock cleared his throat, “Yes. Not that I was interested in knowing.” he shrugged before turning around and heading to his lab stool to resume his experiment, trying not to show his unusual embarrassment.

Sherlock only took four steps away before Molly blurted out, “Why are you even asking?”

He turned to face her, only to find her crossing her arms over her chest, raising her right eyebrow.

Sherlock mimicked her posture before saying quietly, “I have every right to ask.”

“No, you don’t.”

“I do.”

“You don’t.”

“I certainly do.”

“You most certainly don’t.”

This woman is driving me crazy.

You are already crazy, mate. Don’t blame the poor woman.

John, I can still hear you through the walls. Do SHUT UP.

He took two steps towards her, before almost shouting, “You can’t just go dating other men when I am right here. Have some respect, Molly Hooper.”

“Respect?!! What the hell are you talking about? You are not my father, you know.”

Alright, that is it.

Sherlock cut the remaining distance between them in two long strides before yelling, “The hell I am. I am the man that you like so much and it is only convenient and logical to choose me if you want to….you know….mate.” Molly blinked in shock. Mate?

Before she could even wrap her mind around the word, he continued, “Even Charles Darwin would agree with me.”

“Charles Darwin?!” she asked, stunned.

“Yes, doctor. I am more evolved than the entire Homo sapiens you dare to go out with. Honestly, your choices are just an insult to both our intellects. It is like adding sodium to chlorine.”

“Sodium to chlorine? That’s salt.”

“Yes, salt. Salt is….salty.” he said, pouting his lips as if disgusted by the word. Molly frowned deeply, trying to understand what he wanted to say, but her thoughts were severely cut off when Sherlock suddenly stepped into her personal space, resting his right palm on the lab table, and saying in a playful tone, “On the other hand, you and I are like sodium and water.”

“That could turn into a fire, Sherlock.” she giggled nervously, trying to hide her confusion.

“Fire is good, Molly.”

Then, he leaned as closely as possible to her face, stared into her eyes and said in a low husky voice, “Fire is hot, and hot suits you well.” then he hovered his lips over hers, almost touching, teasing her mercilessly, before leaning backwards, as if he hadn’t just almost melted Molly into a pile of uncontrolled emotions. He watched her blushed face, slightly smirking, and feeling quite proud that he could get such a reaction from her without even touching her….yet.

Time to move to phase-2.

Sherlock leaned slightly forward again, making sure to keep his eye contact with Molly, who was staring at him in wonder, and then he said in his goddamn gorgeous voice, “Scientifically speaking, for the mating to be successful and complete in a satisfactory way, mates need to be alone….privacy and all. 221B Baker Street is one of the quietest places I know, despite being in Central London. Quietness and privacy are like the catalyst to the reaction.”

Is this really happening? This is really happening, right? Alright, time to cooperate.

Molly stood up, which made both their bodies even closer, and said amusingly, “You know what, Sherlock?”

“I know ‘what’. It is an English question word that indicates…”

She laughed heartily. “You know, for a graduate chemist, your chemical/romantic metaphors are complete--”

“Nonsense?”

“Cute.” she said happily.

“Take that back right now!” he shouted firmly.

“No.” she giggled.

“Molly…” Sherlock said in a warning tone. God, if only he knew how much she liked it when he said her name like that, even if it meant that he was slightly annoyed with her.

“Alright, maybe a bit nonsense, but still cute.” she chuckled.

He took a deep breath, and then decided to let it go. There are far bigger and more important goals at stake here. “Alright, we can work on them, refine them….back in my flat, as a team.”

Molly smiled sweetly, “Sherlock?”

“I heard teamwork is good for better results.” he said, winking to her.

“Sherlock?”

He went on, “And that definitely would give Toby and his new bride, Cookie, all the privacy they need to-“

“Sherlock!!!” Molly shouted, but still smiling widely.

He blinked and said, “Yes?”

“Can you stop talking for a minute, please?”

“What for?” he said, lifting his chin up a bit.

“So that I can say what I want to say.”

“Which is?”

She touched the hand he already placed on the lab table with her fingertips and said in a voice that managed to be inviting and coy at the same time, “Scientifically speaking, my shift ends in 10 minutes. I will meet Justin in 30 minutes at his flat to pick up Cookie, his flat is near his office so he won’t be late, and then I will be in my flat in another 15 minutes to introduce Cookie to Toby. It usually takes 15 minutes from my flat to yours, which means that-” She stopped when he placed one finger on her lips.

“Stop talking, Molly.” he said quietly.

Molly bit her lower lip, still smiling, “Sorry.”

She wanted to look anywhere but into his eyes, for his eyes were diving inside her and she felt nervous, but in a good way. It was like she was captivated by his gaze; enchanted by those beautiful eyes that always reminded her of the ocean and the clear sky.

Molly cleared her throat “Alright, then. I will meet you in your flat in-“

“No.” he said quickly.

Molly frowned, “No?! You just said-”

He moved his palm to rest on her delicate fingers on the lab table and held them firmly but gently. “I am coming with you. I am not leaving you until we are home…together. Teamwork, Molly. Teamwork is the keyword.”

Molly felt her heart skip a beat, probably several beats. She swallowed heavily, not believing that her wildest and most beautiful dream may come true.

Sherlock straightened himself and said, “Now, go. You still have…..” and he turned to look at the wall clock, “…9 minutes in your shift.”

Molly looked at the clock as well, before looking at him again and mumbling, “Yes, right, the shift. I will just be in the morgue….no, not the morgue….”

Then she turned around and pointed to the microscope, “Um…that thing, I am working on that.”

Sherlock reached to touch her chin with his fingers, and she turned her head to look at him. “Finish quickly, then. I will be waiting for you here.” Then he leaned to plant a soft kiss on her right cheek, before stepping back, giving her his most genuine smile, and then he walked to his microscope to continue working on his experiment, occupying himself with something useful until the end of Molly’s shift, and the beginning of a new phase of both their lives.

Scientifically speaking, this is the best decision you have ever made, Sherlock.

Mary, go join your husband in his room.

The End

Tell me if you find Sherlock a bit OOC, because I had this feeling after I finished the story. I don’t really know whether I am paranoid or he is really OOC.

Cookie is the name of my so adorable and so annoying cat. Love you, Cookie, despite all the scratches and the bite marks xD

[fashiontrendin-blog]

I Tried the Watermelon Diet and I’ve Never Felt Better

http://fashion-trendin.com/i-tried-the-watermelon-diet-and-ive-never-felt-better/

I Tried the Watermelon Diet and I’ve Never Felt Better

In partnership with quip. 

I feel like I have the facts wrong here, but in the sixth grade, my social studies teacher had us practice the art of the filibuster. In what should 100 percent be a game show, we were organized into some sort of pre-teen team bracket and took turns talking, yes, for as long as we could. So what does this have to do with a toothbrush? (This post is in partnership with quip; I’m getting there.)

The winner of the filibuster game was a kid named Conor. He wasn’t as focused on running out hypothetical lawmaking clocks as he was on polishing a standup routine. He had us belly-laughing in our seats; we never knew a class could be so fun. And then he spoke the sentence that I’ve yet to forget, two entire decades later:

“His teeth were all…mayonnaise-y.”

The class lost it, Conor started laughing too and the filibuster was over. I was stuck frozen in my chair. Mayonnaise-y teeth? I slicked my tongue from one top-back molar to the other. I was overcome with the desire to brush them. From that moment on, I vowed to have absolutely perfect dental hygiene.

Of course that didn’t happen. My flossing habits come and go with the moon’s cycle; I’m not a very consistent mouthwash user; I drink coffee; I do love mayonnaise; and sometimes, on very rare — I swear! — occasions, if I’m too tired, I’ll skip the pre-bed tooth scrub and overcompensate in the morning. It is on my constant to-do list to be better about my dental hygiene.

That’s why, when I realized Man Repeller was partnering with quip for a story, I jumped high into the air to participate: Me me me! I would like a travel-friendly electric toothbrush in one or both limited edition metallic shades of mint green and pink, with its own oblong space helmet that protects the bristles as it hangs out in overnight kits and straw baskets!

The team conceded, and though this wasn’t a contest, you could say I was the victor. Two new limited edition electric toothbrushes were mine, one in pink, one in green, just like a…watermelon.

Coincidence? I think not. Not only is watermelon the unofficial fruit of summer, quip dentist Dr. Hariawala said that “athough eating watermelon doesn’t literally replace brushing and flossing, its fibrous nature and high water content can help in preventing tooth decay by washing away food particles.”

(Take that, everyone who just judged my “skip nights” above.)

And from there, the self-appointed Watermelon Diet was born!

Requirements:

– Dress like a watermelon as often as possible – Embody a watermelon as often as possible – Just try brushing my teeth with some watermelon to see what it’s like – But also, bring my quip toothbrush with me everywhere and give my teeth a go after lunches – Eat watermelon and watermelon-like things – Become one with the one and only watermelon

Here’s what happened:

At first, this was harder than expected. I took “dress like a watermelon” far too literally and tried on an outfit so awful it nearly caused me to quit: a single-shouldered green and white top — the rind — plus a red skirt with brown buttons — the “flesh” (sorry) and seeds. After reevaluating what it could possibly mean to “dress like a watermelon,” I reminded myself that inspiration does not have to mean exact approximations.

Clockwise: Pepa Pombo top, Reformation skirt

Ganni pink leather jacket, Trademark green top, Stella McCartney jeans, MR by Man Repeller shoes

Anthropologie slip, Westward Leaning sunglasses, Tibi shoes, basket bag from Quip

J.Crew shirt, vintage Calvin Klein jeans shorts, Sachin and Babi earrings borrowed from Leandra

The results of round two’s soul-search-y style consultation:

– I remembered how much I like bubblegum pink and palm tree green together.

– A light pink nightgown that I haven’t had the guts to wear outside finally saw the light of day.

– I figured out the outfit-math equation for a giant pair of watermelon-colored earrings I’ve been longing to wear (add a green and white striped button-down!).

– And I busted out a winter-forgotten polka dot top because it reminded me of watermelon seeds. (You’ll see that later if you keep scrolling.)

Bambah top and vintage Calvin Klein jean shorts

Thanks to the outfits listed above, the only other thing I had to do was prioritize hydration and occasionally hang out with feta.

Sunglasses with pink lenses also helped. They gave me that watermelon-tinted-glasses outlook on life.

Oh, and I carried around a mini watermelon. It takes one to know one, I figured.

This was hard and weird, and I do not recommend it! Neither does quip, it turns out. (You can subscribe to receive actual toothpaste every three months for 5 bucks a pop, along with the brush heads — also $5.) Eating watermelon is far more fun and brushing your teeth “the normal way” far more effective — especially because I started toting my quip around just in case of photo opportunities, which meant I was encouraged to brush my teeth mid-day far more often than has ever happened.

Glad I did this one, given that I’m trying to be better about my dental hygiene and the watermelon-as-toothbrush thing didn’t totally work. The fact that the quip toothbrush was watermelon-colored not only made my teeth feel sparkly fresh after tricky salads (it has a two-minute timer that lets you know to keep on keepin’ on and when to stop), it satiated my unquenchable watermelon itch. Also, speaking of itch, vibrating toothbrushes make pretty handy backscratchers.*

*Like using watermelon instead of proper tooth-brushing, quip does not recommend the back-scratch thing, either.

You don’t have to tempt me with a good time. I ate so much watermelon, I can’t even tell you. But also, I ate watermelon-colored sorbet, watermelon and avocado (sounds weird, but it’s really good), drank watermelon juice and snacked on loads of watermelon radish. Watermelon radish rules and is also a lot of fun to play with.

Our resident makeup expert, Imani, suggested I do watermelon makeup for the watermelon diet. She selected the shades so I couldn’t mess it up and then fool-proofed the instructions. The look was not for me, aesthetically speaking, but do you see that look I’m giving my new best friend, the watermelon? It’s one of camaraderie. And a bit of flirtation.

So where do we go from here, given that the watermelon diet isn’t a diet after all but rather a lifestyle, and that I am now a fully committed loyalist? Besides the fact that I want you to know my dental hygiene is far superior than it was even a week ago thanks to quip, I would also like to declare that, at 1115 words, I believe I just won the filibuster.

Get your own quip here and show me your smiles in the comments below! 

Feature photo by Heidi’s Bridge.

[newsever24-blog]

A Madoff Gets a Makeover, by Giving Them

New Post has been published on http://newsever24.com/a-madoff-gets-a-makeover-by-giving-them/

A Madoff Gets a Makeover, by Giving Them

A Madoff Gets a Makeover, by Giving Them

In the TriBeCa neighborhood of Manhattan, several boutiques — the kind frequented by women of not just means, but considerable means — have a stack of thick gold-bordered cards next to the register. A Madoff Gets a Makeover, by Giving Them.

They’re as large as cocktail napkins, but they’re business cards: too big to be slipped into a wallet, though perfectly sized to be slipped into a calfskin shoulder bag that costs over $1,000.

They advertise the services of Stephanie Mack, stylist, a.k.a. Stephanie Madoff, daughter-in-law of Bernard L. Madoff, the financier; and widow of Mark Madoff, who committed suicide in December 2010, on the second anniversary of his father’s arrest.

Ms. Mack recently started a styling business, with a list of clients who are often going through their own dramas. She has a good eye for fashion.

She also has something perhaps more valuable: intimate knowledge of loss, grief and starting over, and a determination to be something other than just a footnote in the Madoff saga.

“I don’t want to get defined by Bernie Madoff and his crimes. I don’t want to be defined by the fact that my husband killed himself,” Ms. Mack, 43, said recently, sitting at the kitchen counter of her apartment in the Dumbo section of Brooklyn, where she and her two children, 8 and 10, have lived since 2016. “There are thousands of other stylists and personal shoppers who do the same thing I do, but I wanted to get back out there again.”

She’s not in the market mainly for ball gowns, either. For $200 an hour, with a three-hour minimum, Ms. Mack helps clients choose simple pieces like the best jeans (her own, on this day, were by Mother, worn with a white Hanes T-shirt and black Converse sneakers) and the kicky accessories to go with them. She loves a good beanie. She sits in closets, making notes on Post-its, listening and nodding. Sometimes clients will talk about their recent breakup or divorce.

“That’s when I’m like, ‘Listen. Don’t think that you’re staring at some girl who has it all because let me tell you what happened to me,’” Ms. Mack said. “When you’re in that position, of something bad that’s happened to you, you feel very alone. I felt very alone in my crisis. In my family disaster. You feel like you’re the only person it’s happening to.”

Where Bernard Madoff focused his career on obscuring as much as possible, Ms. Mack’s approach is the opposite.

“I wasn’t going to hide,” she said. “I have nothing to hide.”

The Young Widow

Until December 2008, Ms. Mack’s story read like a spec script for “Sex and the City.”

The oldest of two children, she was raised on the Upper East Side, mostly by her mother, a special-education tutor, and her stepfather, a litigator (both now retired). Her father, a management consultant, died when she was 18. Ms. Mack attended the private school Nightingale-Bamford.

After double-majoring in art and art history at Franklin & Marshall College, she moved back to the old neighborhood. She lived in a tiny studio apartment, working as an assistant photo editor for George, John F. Kennedy Jr.’s magazine, then as a fashion assistant to Narciso Rodriguez, who designed Carolyn Bessette Kennedy’s wedding gown.

A blind date with an older, divorced man named Mark Madoff led to a second date, then a third. In 2004, in a Narciso dress of her own, she married him on the Massachusetts island of Nantucket. They lived in an apartment in SoHo, a house in Greenwich, Conn., and in another on Nantucket. They added one child to Mark’s two from his previous marriage, and Stephanie was pregnant with another.

“We had a really, really nice life,” Ms. Mack said. “We had means to have beautiful homes, and do what we want when we wanted.”

In December 2008, the fairy tale took a dark and lurching twist when Bernie Madoff confessed to his sons, Mark and Andrew, that he had spent the better part of his career in finance carrying out a massive Ponzi scheme. His sons, who had worked for their father’s firm for their entire careers, turned him in to authorities, who soon arrested Mr. Madoff.

The fraud devastated families, hedge funds and nonprofits from Manhattan to Palm Beach, Europe and beyond.

Ms. Mack’s mother and stepfather had investments with Mr. Madoff, as did many of her and Mark’s close friends.

In March 2009, Mr. Madoff pleaded guilty to 11 counts, including theft, fraud and money laundering. Mark, Andrew and Ruth, their mother, said they knew nothing of the scheme. Ms. Mack believed them. Others weren’t so sure, including the bankruptcy trustee. But they were never charged, and in June 2009 Mr. Madoff was sentenced to 150 years in prison.

Overnight, Ms. Mack had entered a circus of lawyers, F.B.I. agents, paparazzi and tabloid headlines.

After considering changing her last name to Morgan she decided on Mack, after ACK, the airport code for Nantucket. “I just didn’t want to hear it anymore,” she said, adding that Mark planned to change his name once his lawyers gave the O.K.

But with constant news coverage of the scandal and multiple civil suits, Mark seemed to be spiraling emotionally. In October 2009, he attempted suicide, swallowing pills and landing in a psychiatric ward. Over the next year, he worked on a new business, a real-estate newsletter.

Things seemed to be looking up, Ms. Mack said, but then Mark attempted suicide once again, this time successfully, with his 2-year-old son sleeping in an adjacent bedroom. Ms. Mack was in Walt Disney World with her 4-year old daughter, and awoke to two emails from Mark, one asking her to send someone to care for their son, the other blank, with the subject line: “I love you.”

Her stepfather rushed to the couple’s SoHo apartment, where he found Mark’s body.

Ms. Mack said the months after were a blur of heartbreak, anger, financial uncertainty and shame. “I am somebody who cannot stand waiters singing ‘Happy Birthday’ to me in a restaurant. Can you imagine your life being plastered everywhere?” she said. “And then, your husband taking his own life two years later is shameful. It’s just shameful.”

Mark’s suicide, many surmised, was an indication of his guilt.

“I was like, ‘No way. He’s not going down like this. I’m telling the truth,’” Ms. Mack said. In 2011 she published “The End of Normal,” a memoir in which she wrote at length about her steadfast belief that Mark was clueless about his father’s fraud.

She finished a graduate school program at Bank Street College of Education, hoping to work with pediatric patients and their families in hospitals, but found it too much to manage with her two young children.

“That word is a very difficult word to say. To be a widow? You just think of that old lady,” Ms. Mack said. “It just sounds old and depressing and sad to me. Look, I’m not old-old. I’m not 25, but I’m not old. And I’m not depressing.”

She got the idea to become a stylist over dinner with a friend, after starting to date again, tentatively, in 2012 and realizing that a good outfit was a kind of protection. “Somebody gets set up on a date with me, they can find out everything about me,” Ms. Mack said. “Literally everything. To become less nervous, I needed to feel like I looked good.”

She contacted several high-end matchmakers and soon found herself working with people who were also seeking romantic relationships in less than ideal circumstances.

“I learned very quickly that everyone has a story, and a bad story,” Ms. Mack said. “The only difference between me and whomever is that mine was public. It’s loss. It’s the same emotion.”