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insufferablelust · 4 years

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Little Butterfly I (Sugar Daddy Mob Boss!Spencer Reid x Reader AU)

Warnings: Part 1 of an ongoing series (that i hopefully won’t abandon), Upcoming heavy violence, Mafia and Crime related fic, Spencer is a soft dom but is dangerous, HEAVY SMUT, upcoming dark kinks (Gun,Knife,Bondage etc), daddy kink for sure, Manipulation kink, Degradation, Humiliation (yknow the drill with me) spoiling kink?, upcoming murders etc, heavy topic regarding mental illness, College legal age!Reader, Age gap, older!Spencer, Mean!Spencer, BDSM themed, Indication of Subspace, Just heavily dark smutty series (yet again lmao)

Hello, my wonderful readers, i want to thank you all for the patience you all have for this series, hopefully i can stick to schedule an update this once a week like Thrilled. This will be a new territory for me since all i know about mafia and such are from the movies and countless books my father has inherited me with, so i deeply apologize if there’re some mistakes, this is an AU that means its only a story and fantasy. If you are uncomfortable to violence and sex then PLEASE DO NOT READ THIS. Thank you, and Happy Reading.

This series will set around the 80′s New York.

MASTERLIST HERE

There is no hiding from the absolute luxury you indulge in, in fact you love showing it to whoever might want to pry deep enough into your life. You caused no harm by it, and it certainly isn’t anybody’s business but yours and his.

The pair of arms around your waist is a certain remainder of who you belong to, and you loved it. He looked good tonight, almost too good with the suit adorning his perfection like an absolute genius adonis— your genius adonis. You feel your cheeks heats up slightly as he glanced at you, knowing just how shy you get around so many people— his little girl is sensitive after all.

Spencer Reid knows every little thing about you, what makes you tick, what makes you snap, what makes you bow in submission to him, and what makes you feel heavenly. He knows it all, he knows the way you trembled slightly whenever he wrapped his arms around your neck as he leaned down to kiss you, or how squirmy you get whenever he tug your hair, said your name calmly whilst shoving his fingers into your mouth— he knows everything.

—

It was a mutual agreement at first, living on 80’s New York has never been so stressful during your 20’s, all the student loans, the bartending you do sometimes, even the couple of scandalous photoshoots you sacrificed yourself doing to keep your bank account afloat. Your family never really cared much, and the only person that you truly have is Emily, your roommate.The whole ordeal was strange when you found out Emily’s ties to the mafia, being the daughter of one of the strongest mafia’s capo on America during that time. You wondered how on earth she has managed to doesn’t want to get on her father’s good side, and just except the riches that comes along with being a mob, but then again you were a stranger to it too...or so you thought.

The night she asked you to accompany her to meet her father and his boss, you shrugged and said yes, having nothing to do in the apartment other than wallowing in your own debts and sadness— you immediately agrees which put a smile on her cute face.

“I thought you didn’t want nothing to do with your father.” You asked as you raked through the closet to find something... ‘elegant’ but not too much, it’s going to be in a lavish restaurant after all. Your eyes darted to Emily’s who has been staring at her phone, smiling to whoever is texting her— you could only assumed it was one of her secret girlfriend-hookup for the week.

“Well i didn’t but money is tight, fucking inflation.” She looked up for once, lips hanging open at the sight of you standing there in a black dress, short with a slit on the thigh area— looking absolutely ravenous. “Holy fucking shit.” Emily whispered.

“What? is this enough? god i feel like such a prude.” You bit your lip as you await her comments, “You look fucking gorgeous you idiot, i mean are you sure you aren’t gay by any chance?” She laughed, which caused you to giggle, “I never said i’m not gay.. just that i’m not—

“Interested in dating, yeah yeah but we can at least fuck or something.” She jokingly raised her eyebrows as you throw your bra her way and laughed, “I just don’t want to get distracted em, especially that we live together.” You pouted before giving her a kiss on the cheek, which made her roll her eyes and smile.

Only if you knew what this meeting will entails.

—

The wine tasted exquisite on your tongue, the sweet burn of merlot was pleasant on the base of your throat which shocked you at first— maybe you should stop buying cheap wines, because the real ones are heavenly. You looked around nervously, it has been a long time since you’ve gone out to have dinner, let alone one as expensive as this.

“Stop looking like you’re about to die.” Emily whispers as she took the seat next to you, which you humorously giggle and swat her shoulder, “I’m not. It’s just.. new to me is all.” You nervously chuckled, before sipping on your wine some more. It was clear that her dad and his so called mob boss were late— which you rolled your eyes since Emily was basically rushing your make up, you just hoped that you looked decent enough, not that you want to impress anyone, its just good to feel like you’ve fit yourself to the occasion.

“Oh, you’ll get used to it.” Emily chuckled, before you could even process what she meant by that the sound of a soft elderly timbre rang through your ears, “Cara mia! Jesus, you’ve grown!” Emily slapped your thigh softly, gesturing for you to stand up.

Dear heaven, lord save your knees from buckling.

You watched as Emily greeted her father as you stood by her side, she kisses him on both cheeks as they made a small conversation that you pay no mind to since you were distracted, distracted by the pair of eyes that caught yours from the moment he walked in.

A soft yet stern eyes that held yours captive at this very moment, a presence that demands every single person for its attention, and intimidating like no other. A man, a finely sculpted man, standing in front of you in an attire that you were sure was more expensive than your whole closet, His soft looking curls marvelously falls fo his side, his plump lips were begging to be kissed— to be listened, to be heard, his tall lean figure towers over you which has you gulping down nervously— so much so that you failed to acknowledged the presence of Emily’s father calling your name.

“Y/N!” You let out a gasp before turning to shake Emily’s father’s hand, trying your best to smile as you glanced over the towering man, “So this is the Y/N i’ve heard so much about huh?” The old man snickered, looking gentle whilst maintaining a facade still. You giggled softly, “I hope there are all good things, nice to meet you Mr.Prentiss.”

“Oh please, Robert is fine. Oh Emily, Y/N this is don Reid.” He stepped back in.. what looks like an utter fear, you gasped as you realized that this is.. the mob boss Emily talked about, the masochistically handsome man you’ve been staring at— you thought a mafia boss would be someone older, but this is certainly not the case.

“Pleased to meet you both, Spencer Reid.” He extended his hand which Emily gladly took before she nudges your side whilst you were still gawking at the man, the soft yet deep timbre of his voice soothes and intimidate you at the same time, not to mention how he carries himself— practically saying he’s a god.

“Oh— um yes hello, pleased to meet you, i’m Y/N.” You bit your lip as you feel your cheeks hurt from the embarrassment, shaking his hand quickly— before you could even imagine pulling away, he gives you an amused chuckle and squeeze your hand tightly before releasing you.

“Well, let’s take a seat shall we?”

You are so fucking fucked.

“So, Y/N, Emily told me you’re majoring in art department, how’re you liking it?” Robert spoke as you eat your pasta slowly, trying not to show how you were trembling under the very same gaze that held you captive from the moment it arrives here. You gulped down a delicious bite of pancetta, before answering, “Oh i love it, always been my passion— well painting is, but i do love everything about art and literature.” You chuckled.

“I would love to see your art sometimes.” The voice could strangle you and you’d die happily, it really could— you glanced at the man whose been looking at you like a wolf to its prey, fingers skimming over the feet of the wine glass as a soft yet eloquent smile strikes over his face.

“Oh um, it’s not— it’s not that good, i wouldn’t want to waste your time.” You choked on your wine, feeling the burn on your throat as he let out a humorous-less laugh, shaking his head, before bringing his lean fingers to his lips. “Nothing is wasteful, not if it comes to such art like you.”

What?

“Huh?” You felt small, your cheeks heated at the reference as you tried so hard not to squirm and praised yourself by hearing what you thought you heard. Your eyes darted to his in a shy manner as he kept his composure well, licking the rim of his glass before sipping his wine gently.

“Anyways! dad, shall we talk a bit more private? i’m sure Y/N can keep the don company.” You gasped at Emily’s words, still barely grasping the previous encounter— the bottom of your heel jab at her left foot, as you glared at her, “Of course of course, don?” Robert spoke up, eyes lowering as his body turned to look at the smirking masterpiece that still stares at you with the same intensity.

“Go. We’ll be fine, won’t we angel?” You gulped down as much wine as you could without burning your throat before smiling nervously, eyes glancing back and forth to The Don and Emily.

“Y-Yes um sure.” You offered a gentle smile, even though your heels jabbed Emily’s which yet again resulted in her tiny laugh before she walks away to the back area of the restaurant.

The area was thick with intensity and glamorous lights, adding to the headache that already starts due to you being a lightweight around alcohol. Suddenly you realized, that you’re practically alone— with the don of the biggest mafia ring in America. “Go ahead and ask me the question.” He murmured sternly, causing your ears to perk at the sudden thrill that made your goosebumps rose and thrived under the shimmering lights.

“Pardon?” Your fingers fiddled with the hem of your dress as you tried so hard not to stare at the huge man, feeling as if you’re being cornered by a lion, and you his prey.

“Your cheeks are warm aren’t they? you keep biting your lips every time i muttered a word, you can’t even look at me because you know that the second you do, you wouldn’t be able to stop. Emily is right, you’re a pure little thing, its fucking cute really. If this table weren’t here separating us, you’d be across my lap already— for wearing something so slutty like that.” By the time he finishes taunting you, you stopped breathing, thigh squeezing against each other so tightly that you could feel how damp your panties are getting.

“Go ahead and ask, doll. Surely you can’t be dumb enough to think i would just allow anyone to meet me let alone a little college student like you.” His eyebrow lifted, as you nervous squirmed on your seat and breathed out.

“Why did you asked her to bring me?”

“Nicely. You know better, Y/N.”

“Sir...”

—

And the rest was history, the pair of arms around your waist tighten as the owner’s lips caress and nip at the very sensitive part of your neck, causing you to shudder and mewls. “mmh.. t-too early.” You complained, fully knowing that would only amuse him even more.

He chuckled as you had predicted, nimble fingers grazing up and down your front like feathers, delicately worshipping every inch of your skin. The blaring sound of New York’s traffic was prominent, but somehow that adds a thrilling aspect for you, months ago— you were picking up morning shifts by now, working your ass off just to gain enough cash to pay this month’s rent. But now, here you are, in the arms of the most feared yet young powerful don in the entirety of the mob community, Heck if everyone knows who he is and how much power he holds— they’d all fear him, but not you, not his fiery little butterfly.

“Shh, let me love on you a little.” Your heart warmed, familiar feeling of a thousand butterflies swarming on your belly caused your cheeks to warmed at the gesture. He said things like those often, though he made it perfectly clear that you were, you are only here for business arrangements, you knew he likes to toy over affection like this— one you aren’t supposed to get attached to. But how couldn’t you? when his hand so softly glides down the curve of your godly features, warm breath fanning across your skin from behind, whispering sweet words.

“Look so pretty for me, butterfly.” He whispered, causing you to yet again whimpers, hand clutching the sheets tightly as he moves down down down until he turned you over and settle between your legs, smiling at you. “If heaven is real, you’re definitely it.” He nipped and bit the exposed skin of your thighs, last night and the night before and before still there but like he said,

“If you agree to the terms, i’ll give you every damn thing you fucking want. Your bills, rents, loans, plus each and every single thing you wished to buy.”

“And in retur—“

“In return, you will be mine, mine to have whenever wherever i want, you won’t be my chained slave or nothing, but you’ll be mine.”

So marked you again and again he did, tearing your satin panties he did, panties that cost more than a week worth of luxury meal that he only grunted with “I’ll buy the whole fucking store, now shut up and let daddy eat his breakfast.”

You swore you’re in god’s heaven then and there, even if you aren’t sure that you believe in one, you can’t help but to think that this is some kind of miracle, your life is, here you have a perfect adonis, suckling on your clit as his fingers pump your delectable cunt in and out with such a fast pace that made you feel all floaty and flustered. The same man that commands the room whenever he walks in, the same man who pay all your bills, the same man who bought you a new lavish apartment and hands you gifts every damn day.

“Oh! oh please daddy right there..” You moaned out loud as your fingers latched onto his hair, softly tug on them as he moaned against your drippy cunt and suck your clit even harder,earning a particularly loud and lewd moan from you. “mmh! a-ah! i’m gonna—“ He held his finger up then, eyes finding yours as his mouth continues to work on your now sensitive clit. Spencer wasn’t too strict or nothing about your rules but if there’s two that he’s strict about is for you to cum only if he gives you permission— no matter the place or time, if he wants you to cum, you’ll cum— not that it’s hard, with someone as skilled as him.

When you begged and begged, he slapped your thigh only to grunt darkly, “If you can’t shut up and let daddy enjoys this, i’ll fucking take you on the balcony and fuck you for all Manhattan to see. Do you want that, Butterfly? want everyone to see what a filthy college girl you are getting fucked by someone as dangerous as me?” He slapped your cunt then, over and over again as you pant, and mewls.. Body jolts and pulsed at his ministration.

“You’re going to cum like this—“ He paused to spit directly onto your swollen clit, watching it wet the sensitive nub, “Going to cum with daddy slapping your greedy little cunt. Or you are not getting an orgasm.”

“Yes, daddy— oh!” True to his words, he spank you, over and over again, leaving you quivering and brokenly cried at the burning pleasure, “Cum princess, come on, you surely know how to thank daddy don’t you?” Your hole clenched around nothing as you arch your back and sobbed,

“Can’t— daddy please i-“

“You were so fucking desperate to cum, why not now huh? your sensitive cunt surely looks wrecked enough.” He scoffed before he spank your clit so hard you jumped at the sensation before he licked his fingers and caress your clit in fast fanning motion, not giving you enough time to even breathe as your cunt pulses and throb with overwhelming need of release, building up up up, up until you finally trembled and cum all over the bed— an orgasm so intense that you blacked out for few seconds straight.

“Shh.. shh good girl, that’s it— fuck you look so ethereal like this, butterfly.” He muses as he settle his head on your lap and admire your pulsing body, “T-Thank- y-you.. daddy.” You gathered all the strength you have left as he smiled proudly.

Your head laid on his chest as you both cuddle in silence, trying to enjoy the serenity and calm environment around you as the city below you buzzed all round. It was calming for awhile before his phone rang and you involuntarily sighs, “I know pretty girl, i know.” He muttered, before smiling apologetically- Not that he needs to.. Business arrangements, not like you’re his girlfriend or nothing.

love on you,

let me love on you,

You forced your fuzzy subby mind to get the thoughts out, as you watched his figure put on his robe, and leaned down, “I’ll be back later okay, don’t forget to check your phone.” He kissed your forehead for a bit, letting it linger as you held back your tears, wishing he could stay with you, you need your daddy, you really really do need him now. Feeling all small and fuzzy like this. But with the blaring noise of his ringtone, you knew the don has business to take care of and of course you’re not important enough to held such important task to be left.

So you smiled all nicely and kissed all the rings finger on his fingers before bidding a tiny whimper of, “Best of luck, don.” Your head bowed a little in respect as he noticed the true and true sadness flashed across your eyes, but paid it no mind as his other burner phone blared.

“Thank you, Butterfly. Get dressed soon, and i’ll have Morgan bringing you that sandwich from the deli you love so much. I’ll see you soon.”

Oh how nice would it be if this is your life, but life doesn’t always have a happy ending after all.

——

Comment or send me a message if you want to be added to this series taglist!

#spencer reid smut #littlebutterfly #mob!spencer #daddy!spencer #matthew gray gubler smut #mgg smut #insufferableblurb

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twohearts-hs · 5 years

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‘Two Can Play That Game’ - Harry Styles Imagine

Words: 5.8k

Pairing: Gang Leader!Reader x Gang Member!Harry

Warnings: Swearing, death, smut

Summary: She rules a deadly gang, he has a price on his head. He works for the enemy, she is the enemy. What happens when Harry begins working for Y/N when really he is working with her rival.

|| Masterlist in bio }}

He caught her eyes the moment he entered the room. The way he presented himself, dark suit and little curls. She was in awe. His eyes held a mystery to them as she made contact with his. There was something about him that she was intoxicated with, possibly his heavy cologne, the lust in his eyes or the muscles that were hidden under his shirt. She was infatuated with him at that very moment.

The mysterious man shook hands with her father. A smirk plaster on his face as he nodded towards the stranger. Y/N watched, standing next to him; she knew the mob was a messy job and she hates that she was brought up in it. Yet, here she was about to take the reign from her father.

“Mr Styles, this is my daughter Y/N, she just took over, so please get comfortable,” the older man told me, “Mr Styles will be our new right-handed man since you know what happened, darling,” he winked at her. She smiled but felt the deep shiver in her body from what happened to the last man.

Her father walked away, heading to his office as she stood in the living room with this new stranger.

“Call me Harry,” he said, taking the whiskey cup he was offered and sitting on the couch. She smiled.

“Call me Y/n then,” she replied, cocking a brow as one of the server handed her a glass of Merlot. “My father told me that you use to work with the FBI,” she began making conversation.

“Yes, I did. I didn’t enjoy following the rules, working for the government to look into people like us. I like the freedom than the constant breathing down my neck. With a job like this, I can do what I please,” he said, moving his hand from his side to sliding it on top of the couch. Y/N stayed still, keeping her movements clean and proper.

“Fair enough,” she mumbled.

“Why is a lady taking over London’s most dangerous mob?” he asked.

“Why isn’t a lady taking over London’s most dangerous mob. Maybe unlike you, I have been raised in this world. I have seen people dying since I was born, saw blood from the moment I was conceived and I know pain before it was shown to me. I am lady, I am wealthy, yet most importantly, I am deadly. So please, Mr Styles do not offend me or else you won’t be calling your mother on Mother’s Day to apologise how anti-feminist you are,” she told him, looking him up and down as she got up from the white leather couch.

“Y/N,” Harry began, placing the glass down on the golden side table in the lavish, French traditional home to follow the beauty he now calls his boss. “I am sorry, I have been in this business for a while, therefore I was simply shocked, darling,” he said, grabbing into her arm to turn her around.

Eyes meeting eyes as they locked. Of course, there was some sexual tension but both were too stubborn to recognise it.

“Don’t touch me,” she said sternly, raising her eyebrows to the curly-haired man.

“My apologies, madame,” he said. She was different, standing there with curled hair and a white dress; so odd for the mob. In his eyes, she was innocent, young and dumb...like Bambi.

Y/N watched the man across from her, she pressed the glass to her plump glossed lips as she looked at the exotic creature. He was different, seen the dark world, mysterious, full of lust and just plain intoxicating.

“How much has my father told you about my mob?” she asked, keeping the distance between them.

Harry, standing in the black Gucci suit, rings at home on his fingers and whiskey glass in hand began walking up to her. “Not much. I am just here to protect you,” he began, her feeling his breath from the closeness, “protect the mob, sell drugs,” his breath moved to over her ear. His lips were so close, and a shiver went through her body. “Kill some people on the way,” he backed up, a smirk on his lips, as he filled his glass.

“I am your boss,” she placed the glass down and grabbed the whiskey that was his. She walked away as he stared at her ass, and she sat on the leather couch. “You do what I say and you don’t question it,” she began as he leaned against the bar in front of her. “There’s a second mob on the other end of London, we don’t talk to them. We aren’t at peace but we aren’t at war, so don’t fuck up,” she states, raising her eyebrows at Harry.

“Got it,” he nodded towards Y/N.

“No, I am not done, Styles,” she stated, “No funny business with anyone on the team, that makes things extremely awkward for you. Nobody is allowed to talk to me unless I direct them to. You are to give me messages, no one else. If I want something, you get me something. If I ask you to do something, you better fucking do it,” she says. “Finally, mi casa es su casa, Harry, make yourself at home.”

Then she just walked out.

She was a stunner. He knew it and she knew it. The way she acts, she knows affects every person in the room either gender. Y/N was sex on wheels. Harry had a job to do and he was bloody good at his job. He had never let feelings get in the way before, therefore this would be easy.

“Y/N, the Fester’s are here,” Harry said, entering her office. It has been a few weeks since their initial meeting. He went to Spain for a few days, she went to New York, therefore it has been a while since they saw each other.

“Thank you, Harry,” her hair was pulled up into a messy ponytail as she walked out with a feminine suit on.

“What’s the deal with the Fester’s?” he asked, as they walked down the hall to the dining room.

“Christian!” she smiles, walking in to see a tall, broad, blonde man. The two of them hugged one another and placed kisses on each other’s cheeks. Harry watched with a frown on his face.

“Harry, this is Christian. He is my arms man, my assassin,” she said with no hint of remorse in her voice. “Christian, this is Harry, my second man.”

Harry nodded towards the blonde with multiple tattoos, yet he ignored him the whole time. The two were friends, he noticed. Yet, he hated the way the Italian touched Y/N like that, the gentle touches on her arm or the chuckle that escaped from her lip from a stupid joke he made. Harry just watched from the corner.

“I have someone you need to deal with,” she began, “remember Luke? Luke Harrison?” “Didn’t you fuck him?” he asked. Y/N rolled her eyes.

“He is a Harrison, I had to get information from someone and touching him made it happen. Anyway, he placed his nose somewhere he shouldn’t and I need him gone.”

“He is a Harrison, Y/N, you are gonna start a war,” Christian said.

“Kill him. He found out the route of my sales to America. I need him dead and once doing so, thirty million will show up in your bank account.”

Then she walked out.

“Harrisons?” Harry said catching up to her.

“The Southside mob, Harry. Keep up, you should know this stuff,” she said, walking towards the black car outside.

Y/N got into the black Range Rover, closing the door as Harry spoke, “Where are you going?”

“To deal with some business. We have a snitch, Harry, and I, of course, have to clean up after those idiots like their mother. I’ll see you when I get back.”

Harry rode up to the mansion he was very familiar with after all these years working with the Harrison’s. His motorcycle stopped in front of the golden doors to the London bound home. He knew he shouldn’t do this to her, but it was his job. He worked with the Harrisons, and he has for a while.

His ringed hand pushed open the big wooden door to the grand foyer, dark, dirty, mysterious, unlike her. Two sides - so different - he learnt. Y/N was an angel, or so he thought; dressed in white, a charming smile, bright home, yet Caleb Harrison was the opposite.

“Harry!” a booming voice came from the stairwell and a broad, muscular man emerged...Caleb.

Caleb Harrison was a twenty-eight-year-old mobster, his job was the oldest out of the town. His family has been doing this since time and law existed. Everyone had a hidden truth, both Y/N and Caleb do, Harry knew. He knew that once upon a time they lived in peace until Y/N did something, that thing Harry has yet to figure out due to the harsh whispers of even mentioning the beauty’s name.

“How is she?” he smirked, patting Harry on the back. Harry managed to get a smile out as he was handed a glass of whiskey. “My finest, aged twenty years, I only bring it out for celebration so tell me something good.”

“She,” he tried to say, “She is going to kill one of yours,” he managed to say. It was hard, he has never had this issue. He brought down multiple mobs before, whether female or male-led, but she, she was something in her eyes.

“Of course she is. The Devil always likes throwing a fit,” Caleb said, pushing back his dark hair. The Devil that name echoed in his brain, he never heard people call her that before.

“The Devil?”

“Born and raised by Hell itself,” he said, taking a sip from the glass, “Don’t be fooled by her looks, she always gets what she wants. That is why I put you on this case, you are just like her. Harry, you always get what you want. Yes, Y/n is a looker, her personality is out of the world and damn, that body will keep you moaning for ages, but she’ll ruin you in a snap of her manicured fingers,” Caleb said, moaning with the mention of her name.

“You love her,” Harry spat out, Caleb’s eyes widened.

“I did, but who doesn’t? I just need her brought down. Who is she going to kill?” he asked, sitting down at his desk. Harry leaned against the wall, looking out to the distance, red velvet couches, black wallpaper and a musty smell lingered. Her home was gorgeous, traditional, clean and French with a rose smell lingering. He preferred her home to his.

“Luke,” he muttered. Caleb let out an echoing laugh.

“Let her kill him. He is a drug addict, hasn’t done any good for me.”

“She screwed him,” Caleb shook his head and let a nasty smile grow.

“I thought you were smarter than this, Styles. That woman screws anything that walks as long as it benefits her.”

Harry let out a puff of air, “She is paying this man thirty million because she was believed he found out about her trade routes in America.”

He didn’t like Caleb, the self-righteous, narcissistic, self provoking asshole, but he made a contract all those years ago when he made a bad move with the government and he still has to pay it off.

“I know about those trade routes because she told me five years ago as we fucked. She isn’t as smart as you think. Sometimes dancing with the devil gets you something, try it sometime, Harry,” he winked, getting up from the leather chair and patting him on the shoulder on the way out. “If you want to fuck her, go ahead. Just don’t tell her your dirty secrets. She’s fun though, enjoy it while it lasts. I’ll see you next week,” he said, walking out of the room.

Harry let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding as he moved out of the dark and gloomy room to his bike. He didn’t like the way men talked about her, like an object, a feared and loved object. Something to pass around. The blood in his veins began to boil as he thought about the words of Caleb over and over in his head. Anger had to come out. Therefore he left with a hole in Caleb’s gross black wallpaper.

“They call you The Devil,” Harry said, walking into the greenhouse, seeing her in her robe and hair down. It was nine in the morning on a Sunday. Sunday was her day to do nothing. \ He leaned against the doorway in the famous black suit she began to love as she smirked to her book. Her sunglasses perched on her nose, designer, expensive, is what screamed from just looking at her.

“So I heard,” she replied, charming being spat at you the moment she opened her glossed lips. “It is a Sunday, Harry,” she muttered, turning the page.

He walked up to her, hands in his pockets as he sat next to her. “I know.”

“Sundays are my day off. Not your day off, how come you aren’t in the meetings I assigned you?” she placed the book down on her lap.

“I cancelled them, moved them to tomorrow,” he calmly said looking out the open window. “Beautiful view, by the way, look at that pond,” he winked.

“You did what?” she raised her eyebrow.

“I thought you and I should get to know one another, so I booked this day off to play with one another,” he smiled, nodding his head to her.

A chuckle left her lips, a chuckle like honey due to him initiating that chuckle. “To play?”

“To play. I thought we could go into town, get some coffee, go for a walk, shop maybe, whatever you like to do on your days off with your friends.”

“I don’t have friends,” he rolled his eyes.

“Of course you do, what am I to you?”

“Fine. Give me half an hour to get ready,” she said, placing the book on the side table and walking out of the greenhouse.

Harry knew she was hard to get to. The girl never opened up, she was witted, stubborn, charismatic and she tended to always be ten steps ahead. And he hates to admit it, but he was falling for her.

The two of them were walking down the streets of London, ending up in the shopping area then sitting in a café looking over the busy streets they call home. She was beginning to loosen up, her ‘leader of a mob’ vibe was slowly beginning to fade as chuckles were exchanged over a cup of coffee.

They sat together, on a booth looking onwards to the street. She was so close, touching thighs then hips and now he threw his arm on the back of the sit.

“I heard a little rumour,” he said, looking at her as she pursed her lips and locked eyes with him.

“Did you now, what is that rumour?” she raised her eyebrows and letting a smile come to her face.

“What’s the history between you and Caleb?” he asked, no more flirting, just straight forward. Her eyes instantly stopped looking at his as she placed the mug down.

“Who told you about that?”

“Y/N…” he tried.

“I loved him until he came and almost killed me. He wanted my empire. That’s it,” she told him, refusing to look at him again.

“Y/N, I am sorry,” he began, “you truly don’t deserve that—”

“Kiss me,” she interrupted him, looking at those emerald eyes and just whispering the words that both of them wanted to hear.

“What?”

“You heard me, Styles, kiss me,” she states again. He keeps his eyes widened, not knowing how to respond to her. She leaned in closer, “and here I thought you weren’t a pussy. So kiss me,” she mumbled into his ear, trailing her breath across his jaw to his lips.

Their eyes locked as a smirk appeared on his face. “You are a tease, my darling,” he states. He moved his hand to her hip, cupping it and pulling her closer and ramming their lips together and letting them lose control.

Her hand went to his jaw, cupping it as his fingers began brushing against her exposed thigh. Seconds later, heavy breaths filled the room as they pulled away. A laugh interrupted the silence as she let out a chuckle. He began laughing too as she placed her head on his shoulder.

“Why are we laughing?” he asked as she still silently chuckled for a second.

“I don’t know. I kissed you,” she says.

“And that’s funny?” he asked amused.

“No, I just never let my emotions run wild, but you change me for the better, Harry.”

“Well, I am glad I do,” he said with a beaming smile, “now let’s head back.”

“Mr Y/L/N,” Harry said walking into Y/N’s house as she saw the man in a suit and tie watching him. The older man smirked, a chuckle erupting as he welcomes Harry in. The Italian man sat down on the white couch he knows so well as he tsks his teeth trying to find the words.

“My daughter, you would say she runs the mob well, eh?” he begins, getting up and pouring himself a scotch at the bar. He walked back, handing one to Harry as Harry took a deep breath.

“She is amazing, sir,” Harry said, nodding towards him, appreciating the beverage.

“It is hard, watching her run it when I am back running the other half in Italy. She does it so well, just like her mother. She is beautiful, intelligent, stubborn and a bit of a bitch, my daughter, wouldn’t you say?” he asked.

Harry bit his lip, “I can only say good things about her.”

“She likes you, Harry,” he states, turning his head to him, “I have never seen her so fond of a man before. She isn’t even that fond of me. The only man she had remote interest was Caleb and I am ready to punch that bastard’s brains out,” he told him. Lorenzo patted Harry’s shoulder, looking into the Brit’s eyes, “You like her back. You’re a good guy, Harry, I would love to see you take over the business, but if you break my little girl...there will be some consequences--”

“Father,” Y/N walked in, seeing her father and Harry together. Lorenzo got up, placing his cup down and kissed his daughter on the cheek.

“Just talking to Harry, my dear,” she smiled, watching him exit her home.

“You don’t like him,” Harry said walking up to the girl and placing his hands on her hips.

“Who doesn’t? He practically stole me from my mother, and then placed me in this business,” she said, placing a kiss to his cheek. She began walking away, but Harry grabbed her hand spinning her around.

“We fucked last night,” Harry said, with a stern face. Y/N raised her eyebrows. He grabbed her by her waist and pulled her in, “I don’t fuck around, Y/N.”

“Aww, I’m honoured,” she winked, bopping his nose.

“I am being serious, what are we?” he asked her, glaring her down.

“You are my partner?” she innocently said, giving a wink and a smirk.

“Partner in crime, bed or in life?” he asked, she laughed getting out of his grip and skipping down the hallway.

“All three, now help me with this idiot in the basement.”

Y/N wandered into her bedroom, wrapping the white silk robe closer to her body as she placed the glass of red wine on her bedside table. It was time to relax and rewind, it hasn’t been a pleasant day in her eyes. She looked at herself in the mirror and a little smile came to her face as she brushed her fingers across her shoulder. He left marks on her and for some odd reason, she loves it.

“What are you doing?” Harry walked up to her, wrapping his arms around her waist and whispering in her ear. Her fingers held onto his hands as she melted into his touch. A little smile came to her features as he whispered in her ear sweet nothings.

‘I’m admiring the marks you made,” she said as he began kissing her neck, turning her rapidly and placing his lips back on her plump ones. Their lips worked as one, as they fumbled towards her bed.

Harry rid his t-shirt as she dropped her robe, leaving him in just his jeans. His hands gripped her waist as he littered kissing on her face. Harry kept pushing her closer to the bed as her little hands compared to his underdid his belt, pushing his jeans and underwear done as she fell on the bed. Giggles erupted the silent room as she kissed his shoulder.

“Are you ok?” he asked, rubbing his hardened cock as she mumbled a yes into his neck. He smiled, pulling back, straddling her as she smiled. He didn’t know what it was but every time they met eyes, he fell more in like with her, possibly close to love. Her hands ran over his shoulder, tracing the tattoos lining his toned body. He pushed forward, kissing her again as she wrapped her body around his. Y/N’s hands gripped his butt as they made out, sexual tension increasing by every second. Their hunger for each other was too much now and Y/N pulled away, grabbing a condom from her bedside table and taking a sip of her red wine as she crashed her lips back on his, more than just needy for him.

Harry took the condom from her as he opened it and rolled it on his cock. She looked into his eyes as he looked up.

“Ready?” she mumbled, he nodded as he grabbed her hip, pushing her down on the bed as her legs opened. He lined himself up with her entrance as he slowly slid in. A slight moan came from her as he pushed himself in. Y/N grabbed him by his face and placed a hungry kiss against them as she slid her hands down his hips to his butt, grabbing it as he began to move to a steady movement.

Moans and groans escaped their lips as they fucked in her bedroom. The sound of slapping of skin and light little huffs, as well as pleasure sounds, were now heard in the once quiet room as they fucked the shit out of one another.

Y/N’s hands moved from his butt to his hips, grabbing them as she pulled away from their quick kisses to one another. She mustered the strength as she pushed him over, swinging her legs over his thighs, riding him and wrapping her arms around his neck.

“You are so cheeky,” he muttered, pushing her sweaty locks of hair as he smiled to her, trying to not let too much noise escape from his lips as she rocked her hips against his swollen and hard cock.

Y/N smirked, kissing his cheek as she whispered in his ear, “I am only cheeky for you, mister,” he moaned at her words as she moved her hips faster. She pulled his hair, letting his head push back as she captured his lips once again.

“Grab my hips,” she muttered as his ringed hands gripped her hips, pushing her harder on his cock as they fucked. Both bodies covered in sweat as they moaned each other’s name.

“I’m going to cum soon,” she muttered in his ear as he nodded.

“Me too, cum with me,” he whispered back as he pushed her body back on the bed and towered over her.

Harry’s ringed hand grabbed her thigh, wrapping it around her butt as he fucked her harder. Y/N couldn’t take it anymore, so close to her finishing that she just let sounds out. He was truly amazing at pleasuring her and she thanked him.

They finished together, heavy breaths exchanged as he rolled off of her, snuggling himself against her body.

“I know we have known each other for only a few months, Harry, but I think I am falling for you,” she said, playing with his hair as he placed his head against her breasts and wrapping his arms around her.

“I think I am falling for you too.”

“Why the grin, Styles?” Caleb asked, walking out from the corner to him. Harry stayed quiet.

“I can’t work for you anymore,” he stated, placing the phone given to him down on the desk.

“You have a debt to pay, Harry,” Caleb said, clicking his tongue as he pulled his suit jacket back, showing a gun.

“I have been working my debt for a while. I think I’ve cleared it,” he pushed back.

“You’re fucking her, aren’t you?” Caleb responded, rolling his eyes, “Here I was thinking that you’re the smart one here, Styles. You are fucking The Devil.”

“It doesn’t matter what I am doing, all I know is that you’re the bad guy here, Caleb. I am done,” he responded, turning away.

“I take it back. You aren’t just fucking her, you are in love with her. Stupid Harry Styles, he’s gonna get his heartbroken by that slut,” Caleb responded. Harry instantly turned around, walking quite fast to Caleb, raising a fist.

“Don’t talk about her like that,” he said glaring down the man.

Caleb snickered, rolling his eyes and shaking his head, “You’re in love with her. I sent you on this mission six months ago and you’re like a lovesick puppy. It’s funny in all honesty,” he pursed his lips, Harry lowered his hand.

“I want out of this, Caleb. I may be in love with her, but I paid back my debt and if you refuse to let me go, I’ll tell her about our history--”

“So she can fix up your mess? You humour me, Styles,” Caleb said, “You’re not off the hook. Here’s your next mission.”

Harry sat on the couch at her house, as she walked around the room talking about her day and grabbing herself some snacks and a glass of wine for the movie they are about to watch. He loved seeing her like this, in her natural state as she expressed her feelings, her words and what was in her head. Y/N wasn’t calm, collected, stern or cold when she was with him anymore. She was soft and every second, she was falling for him and him for her.

“You’re not listening to me, H,” she said, sitting next to him as he wrapped his arm around her.

“Of course I am, love,” he told her kissing her temple.

“I am meeting Caleb tomorrow,” she said, kissing his lips, and looking up to him.

His eyes widened, “Why?”

“Because, my dear, I have a plan,” she said, poking his nose and winking.

“Now, why are you being so quiet?” she asked, kneeling in front of him and cupping his cheeks. He smiled gently at her, looking away as he tried to form the words on his tongue.

“I lied to you,” he said, she stopped rubbing his cheek as he pulled away and ruffled his hair. “I lied to you, Y/N.”

“Lied to me about what Harry?” she responded to his frazzled voice. Harry still couldn’t look her in the eye as he tried to form the words he desperately wanted to say. “Harry, baby, I love you, remember? Nothing is going to change that,” she said, “I’m getting worried,” she grabbed his cheeks and pulled him to her. “Look at me, tell me,” she pleaded.

“I lied. I had a price on my head and Caleb helped me to pay it off as long as I worked for him. I, Y/N, I was a spy. I was hired to tell everything about you--”

She pulled away instantly, “And did you tell him, Harry?” he nodded.

“Not everything, just in the beginning. The moment I got feelings for you, I stopped. Please, love, forgive me. Let’s move past--” “Stop,” she said, pulling away from his embrace as she walked out of the living room. “You broke my trust, Harry. I fucking trusted you, I fucking trusted you. I fucking love you and this happens. Get out!” she said, looking at him with such anger that he didn’t recognise her orbs anymore.

“Please,” he pleaded, walking towards her to try again to grab her hand.

“No. I love you so much--”

“Then forgive me. I have been feeding you information for months.”

“Why haven’t you told me sooner?” she asked, rubbing her temples.

“Because I was afraid of this, darling,” he said, taking a piece of her hair and twirling it.

“Just get out. I’ll call you when I am ready to see you again, Styles,” she told him, walking past him, bumping shoulders as she left. Then she was gone.

She sat, biting her nails as she looked around the darkroom. Y/N recognised her bodyguard by the door as she waited for the man she loathed so much. The man that was truly a snake in disguise and an artist of vileness. A man who crushed her heart and spread rumours around that she’ll open her legs up for anyone and they call her the Devil. They call her The Devil when really it was him who was the devil.

She was supposed to meet Caleb a few weeks ago, but she refused to go when she was in that emotional state. Its been three weeks since she saw Harry and it was the hardest three weeks of her life. The beauty felt lifeless, lost and sad without him and she just wanted him back. Yet, she couldn’t, she had a business to run and she had a plan.

“Why’d you cancel?” The Devil walked in, she rolled her eyes, looking at the bloodstain on his cheek.

“You have a little something,” she said, rubbing her cheek.

“It’s for you to lick off later, you love it when I get all down and dirty,” he winked to her and she just gagged in the inside.

“Oh, you wish. I am here on business, let’s talk.” Just then, her Harry walked in. Suit on and hair fixed perfectly as she watched him sit next to Caleb. He was hurt, she recognised. She could see it in his eyes.

“My associate and I have come with a proposition, we’ve seen how you run your empire and we’re impressed. But there is room for approvement and we’d like to offer our services,” Caleb said, lighting a cigarette and placing it to his lips.

“Hi, Harry,” she said, raising her eyebrows. “We all love a traitor,” Y/N said, standing up and walking across the room, brushing the chairs with her fingers types as she pulled a chair out and sat on it. She leaned forward, forehead almost touching with Harry’s, yet pulling back.

“So, you think you’re so superior. With your little suit and tie and the Rover on the driveway. You really thought you could just take my empire, like that,” she said, snapping her fingers. Y/N placed her palms on the table, “You’re wrong and here I thought you’re so smart, Caleb. Don’t make a deal with the Devil, is what they say, huh? How come you wanna mess with that shit?” she smirked to him, glaring the man down.

“Do we have a deal?” he asked, voice stern. Y/N turned her back on him, placing her hands on the hip.

Three men were stood behind Harry and Caleb; three bodyguards. Y/N turned around, whipping the gun from her holster as she took three easily shots to the men. “No, we don’t,” she mumbled, blowing the smoke from her gun. “Didn’t your mother taught you to play nice? If you play dirty, two can play that game.” Harry stood up, fixing his suit jacket as he walked towards Y/N.

“You nasty piece of shit. You bitch,” Caleb said, pulling his gun out and pointing it to her. Harry pulled his and pointed it to Caleb.

“You may have street smarts, but at least I know what the fuck I am doing,” she told him, “Shoot me, my gang won’t go to you. Shoot Harry, that won’t change anything except make me really sad. We don’t want me sad, last night, I killed your brother. So, make a smart choice here Caleb. If you don’t kill me, we could forever be in this fight where everyone knows you love me. You won’t kill me. Kill Harry, I’ll kill you. Make your decision,” she said, no hesitation in her voice.

“You were also smart,” he told her.

“I know,” she told him, as he lowered his gun.

“You two will make beautiful babies,” he said again, looking at the floor as he tried to buy time.

“I know that too. I wish I could send you an invite to the wedding or the baby shower. I have an old friend who wants you, Caleb and not in a good way. He’s standing outside. What is going to happen, is Harry’s gonna open the door and you’re going to not resist. He’ll take you away and we’ll never have to see each other again. Harry and I can move on, and you will be dead. There are some people who actually know how to make a deal with the devil, sugar, you just aren’t one of them.”

Y/N walked out of the bathroom, silk robe wrapped around her as she made her way to bed. Harry sat, with a book in his hand. Its been six months since Caleb was taken to Japan where he made a bad deal with a gang leader there. They have been happy since.

“You’re so badass and beautiful,” he cheekily said, as she climbed in bed and met him with a kiss. She giggled in between the kisses as his hands drifted to her butt. “Here, I thought you hated me in the beginning,” he said, kissing her cheek as she pulled away.

“What?! No! I never hated you when we first met,” she said, cupping his cheeks as she straddled him with her knees in the queen size bed.

“You so hated me,” he told her, smirking and dragging out the “oh” sound.

“No!”

“Yes, no kiss me you little bugger,” and she gladly did.

“I really love you,” she mumbled, against his lips. He hummed in agreement.

“If you really love me, bug,” he kissed her again, “then marry me.”

Tag list - dm, inbox or comment to be added/removed :)

@alinashawn @mendesnecessary @i-am-bisexual-and-a-girl @un-limit-edd @ashwarren32 @harrysahottie @iimagineloves @claredolphinbear24 @purple-cream-cheese @particularlymendes @lilya-petrichor @laggyphone @winchesterwife27 @neverlandqueen15 @kissme-hs @mutuallynotmutual @why-are-all-the-teens-gay @min-amani @a-classy-asian @bandsandanimefreak @for-harrys-eyesonly

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elejah-wonderland · 6 years

Text

Always/11

Fanfiction

Part 11

Elijah Mikaelson x reader/Elena Gilbert

ft. Klaroline

AU TVD/TO story

a/n: and so another story is wrapping up. I thought I write an extra happy chapter for all the characters. They all suffered a lot in this story.

Thanks so much for reading. I really hope you have enjoyed it. xoxo

Spring is in the air and I feel all romantic. LOL

warning: fluff and the Mikaelson family happiness

tags @rissyrapp20 @dendrite-lover @cassienoble2000 @captainshurley @goddessofthunder112 @elejahforever @idkhaylijah @hides2000

__________________

A month later

Elijah and Y/N/E laid in bed looking at the first baby scan-

"Tiny little fusion of you and me"- Y/N/E said.

"Our little sweetheart"- Elijah said.

"I feel happy - and maybe it's crazy to think this way but I feel like him or her we lost sent us this baby"- -Y/N/E said tearing up.

"Him or her will always be in our hearts'- Elijah said.

"Yes, always, now dancing with the angels."- Y/N/E said then turning to Elijah looking at him seriously-

"Last night- I went through one of my drawers in the walk-in and found this key"

Y/N/E got up and now showed Elijah the unusual key.

"This is from a deposit box"- Elijah said.

"Do I have a deposit box? Probably, ha? Can't remember. You know that still have bits missing in my head"- Y/N/E continued-"but why would I keep it in a drawer full of sports socks? Completely at the back of it?"

"I really don't know"- Elijah then said-"it really doesn't makes sense-"

"We can find out, can't we?"- Y/N/E said.

"Of course. I will get one of my friends tell me what bank it is"- Elijah took the key.

"Ok. Do that first thing tomorrow, now kiss me - us- and let's get some sleep. Rebekah is coming over and we are going through the whole ideas she has done for the vows-renewal ceremony"

"Good luck"- Elijah joked a little bit.

"I know."- Y/N/E smiled kissing him.

Flashback

A week or so previously

Rebekah met Y/N/E for lunch

"Elijah told me that you two are renewing your vows. How come I didn't get this from you?"- Rebekah shot at Y/N/E as she sat down at the table.

"Because- ahm- we don't want anything big- just family"- Y/N/E to be diplomatic and cursed Elijah a tiny little bit for having slipped it to his sister.

"Oh no. Last time you eloped. This time you have to give us a bit more."

"Ok. Semi-big then, but really just family and closest friends. Deal?"- Y/N/E said.

"Hm-"- Rebekah let out and she knew that Y/N/E made sense-" we have a deal!"

"Anyway you'll get to have a grand thing yourself"- Y/N/E then said.

"What? Me? Please, like that is ever going to happen-"- Rebekah sighed a bit.

"I thought that things between Stefan and you are really going good."

"They are- but we are like thousand years from a proposal. Not everyone is like you and Elijah."

"I've seen the way he looks at you. He is a keeper"- Y/N/E said.

"Really- he looks at me dreamy?"- Rebekah asked as if she was a fifteen year old girl not really sure if her boyfriend was that into her.

"Duh"- Y/N/E replied.

"You're not just telling me to make me feel better"- Rebekah carried on with her insecurities. She was only like that when love was the topic.

"Please! I am serious about stuff like that. Now, show me what you got."

"Right."- Rebekah said filled with special energy-"you have got to have a designer dress. Here are some suggestions. Don't look at me like that. It will be three months after you give birth. You will fit in easily with all the yoga you are doing and healthy food you're eating" **** After Kol was released from the hospital, he and Sophie moved in with his father and mother, as he still had not recovered fully. Everyone was proud of his decision even though they have scolded him a bit since it was a dangerous thing. Jeremy's killers were charged and they had enough evidence to put them away for a long time. Mikael and Esther, as well as the others were ecstatic to find out that there was another Mikaelson baby on the way.

The Mikaelsons had officially invited the Gilberts to a dinner to something that resembled a miniture peace conference that had Y/N/E and Elijah as mediators and the uniting force with a little help of their now joint therapist Camille. Another huge revelation came a day before the dinner as Miranda needed Y/N/E to know that she was her and Greyson's adoptive child. Camille found that Y/N/E had the strength to face all and it was important as the process of putting the past where it belonged.

"We don't know who your father was."- Miranda said-"I couldn't get pregnant and so we decided to adopt. The only thing we knew was that your mother was a sixteen year old girl, who was a runaway."

Y/N/E would lie if she said that it didn't matter, but with Elijah by her side and Camille's excellent guidance, she had all the support to process everything. And she poured a lot of her 'processing stuff' into her art, which was also a great theraputic vessel.

She had also changed the location of her attelier. Only a block away from their home, an celler apartment was transformed into her attelier. As Elijah asked what it was going to be she only said that she was inspired by Alice's adventures.

*** The last puzzle to solve was the key of a deposit box.

Flashback

A few days before Jeremy's death

Y/N/E rang Jeremy to come to her house to talk. It was her zillionth attempt to get through him even though she knew that she might not succeed. She prepared lunch for them.

"Hey sis, something really smells good, but will it taste good"- Jeremy snarked a bit as he got in.

"Stuffed tomatoes- the way you like them"- Y/N/E replied.

"Right. What is this about?"- Jeremy asked as they got in the kitchen.

"Does it have to be about anything? I haven't seen you properly in ages. I thought I'd see you at mom and dad's anniversary party- but you bailed. Mom was really sad"

"Please- with all those hypocrites hanging about I really was not in the mood. I got them a present and saw them two days after - and no biggy"- Jeremy said.

"But still. Anyway, I need to finish the sauce. Can you pass the wine - the south- american merlot."

"Ok. I need to swing to the bathroom"- Jeremy said, got the wine and went out the kitchen. But, before the bathroom he went to Y/N/E’s walk-in wardrobe and hid the key in the drawer.

At the bank as they finally found out what deposit box it was for, they also found out it was Jeremy's. After getting the approval to open the deposit box they found large amounts of money.

Y/N/E looked at it as if hypnotized, at first not saying anything. Elijah was fuming inside of him, but had to keep his cool as he didn't want to upset Y/N/E further.

"You know - huh- I can't believe it. Why? Huh- why was he like that? We have done nothing but love him. He had everything. Good education. A good beginning. And he just didn't care about anything or anyone"- and Y/N/E threw the box full of the dirty money up in the air, and the dollar bills flew all over the place.

Elijah jumped immediately down to her as she was sitting in the chair gently taking her by the arms- "Darling, look at me."

Y/N/E was crying-" Why?"- she muttered.

"There is no plausible answer. Some people get consumed with the darkness and - just can't get out of it - unfortunately. "

Y/N/E knew it. She tried to understand it so many times and had always hit the dead end. Elijah gave her a comforting hug.

At home Y/N/E wrote in her diary-

"Walking through Wonderland sometimes feels like you will get squashed by a giant pumpkin or open a door and slip into abyss and think you will never stop falling and hit something hard, but then you have a cat appear out of the woods bandiging your wound. There are days of colorful charades and dreamy Balls or at the turn of the clock they become a place of the darkest horror as everyone turns into zombies or leeching vampires. And then the clock strikes twelve and a prince grabs your hand or in my case a very handsome viking and kisses me like noone before making my heart accelerate to cloud eleven. Why eleven, I don't know. But I bet there is cloud eleven. Just like magic I am flying free.

And no matter what the weather we can do it better, with you and me together forever and ever... with clear heart and courage. Always."

××× In the weeks tha followed Y/N/E had her first exhibition after the accident, She called it Walking through Wonderland.

__________

Three months later

"Rebekah, can you please pick the cake up and take to the penthouse. I am still at the gallery. I've just spoken to him and he is mad that he had to stay longer at work."- Y/N/E said to her sister-in-law.

"I can't believe we made my father in on the whole surprise party thing. So, Elijah still thinks we are just meeting for drinks?"- Rebekah said.

"Yeah. I will then call him and say that I need picking up from the house. "- Y/N/E said-"I got to go- see you there in an hour."

Flashback

Couple of weeks ago

Rebekah met Y/N/E in her studio- "What's so urgent? Don't tell me you scraping the whole thing- cos I will not let you. The designer dresses are ordered"

"I called you about something else"- Y/N/E said-"I want to do something special for Elijah's birthday. He doesn't want anything particular. But I want to do something a little bit particular. It is his 40th."

"You want to do a surprise party!"- Rebekah said.

"Yeah, let's. He has been so wonderful throughout it all. I want to make it memorable. Let's do his favourite food, his favourite everything, music, cheese-cake."

"You-"- Rebekah added.

Y/N/E chuckled a bit to the comment-"so, will you help me?"

"What are you talking about, of course, I will help you, duh! My company just won best party organizers of the decade!"

"I know, but you got so much work plus Stefan"- Y/N/E said.

"Talk about Stefan, I need to cancel our trip to New Orleans"

"Why? Not because of this? Don't."

"He will understand. I am helping a pregnant woman."- Rebekah said.

"No. This is your week away with a guy that you will marry- don't. I will manage."

"What do you mean - marry? Do you know something?"

"Oh, shoot"- Y/N/E said spoiling the surprise Stefan had installed for Rebekah.

"He is going to propose?"- Rebekah was out of her breath.

"Well, Bonnie heard him talk to Damon about - how you're the one!"- Y/N/E tried to wriggle her way out of it.

"But that doesn't mean he is going to propose? It's mad anyway, we've been together three months! This can't be right!"

"It is!"- Y/N/E said-"ok, Bonnie said he got a ring. So, don't go spoiling it. And act surprised."

Y/N/E finally caved in.

"Really?"- Rebekah was completely taken.

"Promise to be surprised"- Y/N/E said.

Days that followed, Rebekah was exercising patience, but it was the hardest thing to do. She even succumbed to look into the chest of drawers one night she stayed over at Stefan's while he was in the shower. but she didn't find it.

A day before the trip as she had breakfast with Y/N/E and Elijah, her brother asked her why she was on edge joking -

"Taking a whole week of work- how will you survive?"

"It's not that."- Rebekah blasted.

Elijah was surprised at her explosive reaction -" Am I missing something here? You are going on a romantic get-away and it's like you're going for torture?"

Rebekah sighed now telling him about Stefan's probable proposal.

"Oh?"- Elijah looked at Y/N/E who nodded and then told him how the whole probable thing came about.

"And you're a wreck cos you don't want to marry him?"- Elijah was confused.

"I do. I just can't wait for the thing happening- the proposal, I mean. And what if he doesn't do it there. You shouldn't have told me"- Rebekah said getting up-"got to go. Later-"

Rebekah left and Elijah remarked- "I've never seen her so stressed- and this is supposed to be about a good thing?"

"She is really in love with him. And yeah, I shouldn't have told her anything. It just slipped. Bonnie and I just talked and we got to the topic of true love and how she and Damon started off bickering when they met in college and turned to be OTL and Stefan could not find anyone, going from one relationship to another, just like Rebekah."

"I am glad for Rebekah. Yeah, she is really in love. Acting like a teenager. What's OTL?"- Elijah now asked .

"One true love"- Elena explained-"you're my OTL"- she came around the hub to him and kissed him. "You're my OTL, too"- Elijah said caressing her hair as he now kissed her back.

And Stefan did propose. Rebekah was bursting with happiness sending a photo to everyone in the family.

___

Y/N/E got to the apartment carrying a little box. Everyone had already been there. Except for Elijah and his father.

As she got to the living room, she saw Rebekah telling everyone where they should stand.

Y/N/E greeted her guests putting her present on the sideboard.

Rebekah now turned to her-

"Ah, you're here. Ok. Will you go and change? I will help you. Father just called and they will soon be on their way"- Rebekah said to Y/N/E, who nodded and they went up to her walk-in together.

As she had a quick shower and changed, she made a call to Elijah.

"Hey, baby-" -Y/N/E said-"I just got in, and I need to change. Could you please come and get me. I don't really want to get a taxi"

Elijah would never refuse her, especially now that she was pregnant. And so they were on their way to the apartment.

To make the ruse complete, Mikael said he would wait for them in the car.

Elijah went up and got into the apartment.

"Y/N/E?"- he called putting his bag on the chair and heard her say -"living room"

Elijah walked in and everyone shouted -"Happy birthday" - together with Y/N/E, who walked over to him smiling happily.

He was taken aback just looking at everyone wide-eyed. Mikael was there then as well.

"Happy birthday!"- Y/N/E said once again.

"Wow- I- "

Rebekah now passed on a glass of champagne to him and a non-alcoholic cocktail to Sophie and Y/N/E then let her take center stage.

Y/N/E now stood in front of Elijah, her gleaming eyes looking at him, watering a little-

"Elijah - my love - you have been there for all of us at one time or the other and you have been giving and giving and we wanted- I wanted you to know that you are so appreciated and loved- so just wanted to do something special - to always remember"

They all raised a glass to him.

"What can I say- thank you- so much. This is great- really is"

Y/N/E then gave him the gift. He unwrapped it and there was a watch with the engraving

He embraced her dearly and kissed her.

Then there was cake cutting, buffet, more cocktails, music and dance.

I can hear her heartbeat for a thousand miles And the heavens open every time she smiles When I come to her That's where I belong

She gives me love love love Crazy love

_____________

Time passed by, as it does, and they all continued with their lives in a positive way, never to forget the difficulties of the past supporting one another as best as they could.

This whole ordeal Y/N/E, Elijah, Kol went through made them appreciate so much more what they had, the people that were around them, old friends and new, especially their loved ones.

"So, what are you doing today?"- Elijah asked his wife as he brought the breakfast at the terrace where Y/N/E tried to make herself comfortable on the lounge sofa. She was now in her ninth month and her delivery date was just a few days ahead. Sophie was no better. Kol was as much as Elijah, a dotting father-to-be, fulfilling any craving Sophie had.

"Rebekah, Sophie, Bonnie and Caroline are coming over for late lunch and the double baby shower. There is nothing much I can do. My feet are swollen, my back hurts, I am big as a whale. I need a distraction."

"I thought you will not do the baby shower till after the baby comes-"- Elijah said helping Y/N/E sit more comfortably.

"I need something happening- so I told Rebekah yes to the baby shower and only the six of us. We will make a huge party for both our and Kolphie’s baby after."- Y/N/E explained.

"You are really getting into the party thing-"- Elijah remarked.

"Yeah- after everything we've all been through- why not? Why shouldn't we party? Let's celebrate life"

"You're right"- Elijah said smiling at her and now offered to give her a foot massage.

"Oh, thank you"- Y/N/E said happily-"I knew now why I married you"

"Now you know?"- Elijah teased her a little.

"You are the best foot massager in the world"- Y/N/E said-"I mean- it is your hands that are just -oh- this soo gooood"

Elijah was happy seeing her relaxing. His soul whispered a little thanks to the Universe for giving him precious moments like these, moments that at one time he thought would might never be.

"Did I tell you lately how happy I am?"- Elijah then said.

"No. But you don't have to tell me"- Y/N/E said-"I see it. Feel it"

"Well, I think I should say it anyway. "

"Of course, you should. We deserve a little happy"- Y/N/E remarked.

"We do, don't we?"

The way he said underlined a little bit of scared to be really happy and Y/N/E now reached to him with stretching his hand out to him to come closer to her.

Elijah immediately moved to assist her as he thought she needed him to help her get up or something and she pulled him towards her pouting a little, which meant she wanted a kiss. And he kissed her dearly.

"It will all be fine"- she said to him-" we deserve more than just a little happy."

He nodded and now kissed her again.

"Anyone home?"- they heard Rebekah shout out all of a sudden.

They both moved as if they were caught in an inappropriate moment with Elijah shouting back that they are up on the terrace.

"She has to return the key"- Elijah then said and Y/N/E nodded saying in a whisper- "You will tell her!"

Elijah made a face like can you not do it?- and Y/N/E shook her head saying in a very low voice- "You will have to- "

What it was they both felt like they would be hurting her feelings, as Rebekah has been there for both of them whenever they needed her and she had this exclusive right to come and go as she pleased.

"Hi. Ok. I know I am early, but I got here with all the stuff ready and well, wanted to sit down with you, too for a little chat."

Both Y/N/E and Elijah knew that there was some kind of drama coming out and they were not wrong-

"Right. I will say it - Stefan has asked me to move in with him"

"And that is bad because?"- Elijah reacted immediately.

Rebekah now sighed-"It is bad because- well- I love my place- and- you know-"- Rebekah now looked at Y/N/E for a comment and support.

"And you don't like his place? And here goes tricky- how to tell him you want to but not really, but he should move into your place!"- Y/N/E said and Elijah was now looking at both of them like- I don't see a problem or drama here.

"You wouldn't get it anyway"- Rebekah shot at her brother-"you two never had this problem- you got together- got engaged- eloped and got to - well- you started living here like it was a normal thing."

"It was easy"- Y/N/E said-"Elijah's bachelor pad was too bachelor and had loads of bachelor history- plus- I never brought anyone here, except for him."

"You're not making it easier"- Rebekah moaned.

"You will either have to tell him you don't wanna move with him or ask him to move in with you!"- Elijah then said.

"What if he says no and then everything gets awkward and I lose him?"- Rebekah went on.

This was a cue for Elijah to leave as he knew Rebekah was going to grind about this particular thing forever.

He kissed Y/N/E goodbye and told his sister that she should not overthink too much.

"He doesn't get anything"- Rebekah remarked as Elijah walked away.

"Ok. Do you want to hear what I think"- Y/N/E then said.

"Yes. Shoot"- Rebekah said.

Y/N/E then laid out her thoughts in a very diplomatic way.

Elsewhere, Caroline and Klaus were on the phone to one another as Caroline slipped very early out of his apartment as she had to go to her place to change and then to the studio to meet the new co-anchor and talk about how they would do the show.

"I think it's time you brought some stuff over to my apartment"- Klaus said.

"How romantic"- Caroline remarked.

"I thought you were a very pragmatic person. You told me to do any extravagant- no crazy gifts. I am just being practical. How many times did you have to get up at five to get to go to your place etc"- Klaus retorted.

"I don't know how we always wind up in your place, so, I have no other choice"

"Let's make a choice then"- Klaus said.

"What would that be?"- Caroline asked chuckling a bit.

"Marry me and everything is solved."- Klaus said.

"What did you just say?"- Caroline was stunned.

"What part?"- Klaus played innocent.

"The marry me part!"- Caroline said.

"Ah, that. Yes. Marry me"- he said.

"You are not serious?"

"I am very serious."- Klaus said and by the tone of his voice it was clear to Caroline that he really meant it.

She went quiet- in her head a little trailer rushed through beginning with their first meeting and to that very phone call.

"Caroline?"- she could hear Klaus now on the other line bringing her back to reality- and she replied-

"I- did you have to ask me over the phone?"- Caroline was miffed.

Klaus now knew that he had messed up. But, as always knew way out of it- "Well- you hate all OTT stuff, so I thought if I do it in a casual way - this 8s the way to go"

"Seriously?"- Caroline said slightly annoyed.

"No"- Klaus admitted-"it just came out"

"It came out?"

"Yes. I had no plan, but I want to marry you. You are the one for me, my southern belle. You have been from day one!"

Caroline was left speechless, and that was a rare thing.

"I have to go. I'll see you later"- Caroline eventually said and hang up.

_____________________________________

#Elijah Mikaelson #Elijah Mikaelson x reader #Elena Gilbert #Klaroline #tvd fanfiction #Fanfiction #alternative universe

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jokin-around · 6 years

Text

the Broken Stitch

Words: 2972

pairing: Batman/joker (selina/bruce mentioned)

summary: a certain someone has caught wind of Bruce’s upcoming marriage… and he isn’t smiling about it

warnings: attempted suicide

themes: AAANNGST, hurt and comfort

notes: i started writing this a while ago, not related to telltale in anyway despite the title but has a similar tone, I wanted to make something that handled jokers feelings toward Bruce settling down because i love to suffer, enjoy!

Rain fell in Gotham as the batmobile sped down a dark alleyway, its angry rumble disrupting the oddly quiet night. The man at its wheel was silent as he stared down the dark road ahead, gripping the wheel at sharp turns and leaving nothing but a trail of skid marks behind as he rode deeper into the city…

The bat signals light had been casted onto the heavy clouds that loomed over the city earlier that night, and like always batman had been there on the GCPD’s roof in one fell swoop, quiet as a barn owl, speaking to an old man with tired eyes and a cigarette hanging from his mouth. Though the scene had been no different than usual, the atmosphere definitely was. an uneasy funk hung in the air, evident by Gordon’s posture and demeanor. As the worn out cop had relayed the situation to the city’s dark clad knight, back turned as he exhaled poisonous puffs of smoke. World weariness replaced the usual anger and sternness batman was so used to hearing from the man he viewed as a constant pillar in his life.

It wasn’t just one soul at risk tonight or two or even a room of hostages… it was hundreds, possibly thousands.

There was no need for the commissioner to utter the name of the man he was going to be in pursuit of tonight. There was only one criminal in the city who would dare cause so much destruction to the place gothamites called home, so much blatant disrespect towards humanity. And unfortunately Bruce knew him all too well.

After running red lights and crashing through piles of discarded debri, Bruce was parked at the base of the tallest skyscraper in Gotham in minutes, wasting no time scaling up the buildings exterior. When he reached the top, shooting up into the air with the momentum of his grappling hook and swooping back down with his cape billowing in the cold wind like royal robes, he was greeted by the silhouette of a familiar jester. The clowns slender figure stood precariously off the edge of a very long drop. Tangles of green hair dangling down in front of his face. Something, a bottle of some kind, was in his hand. A tiny black box with a mess of wires poking out of it being gripped, shakily, in the other.

The slightest turn of the man’s head told batman his presence had not gone unnoticed.

“You came.“ He said softly in way that was almost shockingly uncharacteristic “i was beginning to think you’d forgotten about me” He sighed, turning his attention back to asphalt that lied hundreds of feet below him

The bat was silent for a moment, then spoke…

“Gordon told me you wouldn’t negotiate until I did" He paused, waiting for a reaction, the clown chuckled humorlessly yet in a way that was devoid of any malice.

“Right… thats how it always is isn’t it? Always having to get your attention somehow just for a moment within the velvet of your shadow…”

Jokers words always walked the line between riddles and poetry but he was being unusually cryptic tonight

“Pardon?” Bruce asked

“Our game?“ He clarified “i threaten to bomb a hospital or gas a football stadium and you come running, arms outstretched, to catch me every time don’t you?”

Bruce didn’t reply, whatever point the clown was trying at, he wasn’t grasping it yet

“It’s our lot in life, how we were meant to operate, DOOMED to operate… it’d be foolish to… to think….” He trailed off, still staring down

“To think what?”

Instead of answering Joker laughed again, shoulders shaking, grip on the device on his hand tightening

“To think it could be any other way!!“ He turned, frail body swaying to face the bat, footing unstable, expression wild as always but… disgraced with dark streaks of caked on mascara that streamed down his pale face like rivers. bruce thought it could possibly be from the rain but the look in jokers eyes signaled otherwise. It was a sight batman never correlated with the Joker. Those streaks were caused by tears, the tears of a man, of a HUMAN with emotions, the kind Bruce had tricked himself into thinking Joker lacked. At this point it was glaringly obvious why the man before him was practically speaking in tongues, the bottle he held in his other hand already half empty

“ Joker… are.. .are you???”

He laughed, genuinely this time

“If you’re asking if i’ve partook in the devil’s nectar, the unfortunate answer is yes… heh, that why they call you world’s greatest detective, batssss?” He jested taking another swig of cherry red merlot

“wasn’t planning on facing you this way y’know?…" He said looking at the tinted glass container and promptly discarding it, what was left inside spilling out as it fell several stories “But the mind is a creature of its own… wouldn't’ve been able to keep myself from pressing this button as soon as I laid my thumb upon it if I hadn’t calmed my nerves… heh… but now look, i’ve gone off script and soiled my makeup like a teenage prom queen what a mess…" He rakes his fingers through his stringy wet hair and laughs but it’s closer to a sob “this is all wrong…”

Bruce isn’t sure what to make of all this, but the clown is definitely upset, more so than usual. Unfortunately the with the city’s fate within his bony hands, he didn’t have time to humor him.

“joker… whatever this is, there’s no time for it…” Joker looks at him, unamused.

“gordon told me that you’re putting hundreds, thousands of peoples lives at risk right now… I came here to negotiate and if you’re going to make things hard as always then- !“

“Why didn’t you tell me you were getting married?“ He interrupts. The way he asks the question so nonchalant in comparison to the massive shroud of tension it gave off, shutting batman up almost immediately

“I…” He stammered “h-how did you???“

“Oh please… don’t act like you didn’t know I knew!… as if that playboy facade could keep anyone in the dark for long, Bruce wayne’s fancy marriage announcement plastered all over the city ….it’s hardly a secret.”

Bruce didn’t know how to react to that… deep down he’d always considered the possibility that Joker secretly knew his true identity. You don’t spend years sparring with someone, only to know nothing about them.

“ Joker…”

“Married… heh… And not just to some, nobody oh noo ho ho, the forever tempting Selina Kyle! gymnast, philanthropist, cat enthusiast… THIEF!…“ He turned to glare directly at Bruce, eyes flaring with hate before shifting into subtle disdain “i’ve watched you two from the shadows before. the way you look at her. the way you breath eachother like scents wafting off forbidden decadence.”

Bruce turned away

“Disgusting is the only word I could use to describe it without leaving a sour taste in my mouth.” He glared at Bruce before looking down as if he suddenly regretted discarding his drink, the action leaving him with nothing to wash the image from his mind

Bruce shook his head, denial still clouding his reasoning “why…w-why would YOU of all people care about me and Selina? For years you’ve wanted nothing but my corpse and this city in ashes and now you’re acting like… like what?? Like that’s not enough?? You need me to stay miserable too?? You want me to be like YOU??”

Joker almost looked offended for a split second before his expression twisted into something so raw and angry Bruce nearly took a step back

“You think that’s all I wanted? You REALLY think that’s what I truly wanted?? what, i’ve ALWAYS wanted! Did you never stop to THINK that possibly MAYBE, the reason I do what I do is because of the one thing you think i’m incapable of!!! The one thing you’ve convinced yourself I lack understanding of thanks to some misplaced sense of delusional superiority!!”

Bruce froze as he looked at the man before him, real tears trailed from his black ringed eyes as he held the device in his hand above his head, entire body shaking as he breathed heavily with rage.

“A thief… a criminal… and you still believe you’re too good, too righteous for me!“ He growled through gritted teeth

“Selina doesn’t kill people Joker.” Bruce said, his patience thinning and his anxiety racking as his eyes stayed fixed on the red button under Jokers itchy trigger finger

“AND!? it was like that with us in the beginning!! W-wasnt?…” He argued in desperation, tone wavering “before you got distracted by that flock of pests you call a family… before it took more than a few bank robberies to get you off that kevlar clad ass of yours”

Bruce shook his head “My family isn’t a distraction! They’re all I have… and they deserve a family, a real family, the kind I never had. after raising 6 sons, and 4 daughters… after 15 years, my own death, THEIR deaths… I… I-I-I had to… I have to… for them” every horrible event and tear shared with his children flashed in his mind as he tried to rationalize his reasoning… he didn’t truly know why he had popped the question onto Selina so suddenly, after years of making it clear that he was disinterested in marriage, with anyone, but he knew that had to be part of it.

The clown only scoffed

“Heh… funny…”

“what?” Bruce asked, bemused

“two months ago cowardly and desperate weren’t two words I would’ve used to describe you" His words oozed poison as he looked at Bruce directly with derision . Bruce scowling at him. “don’t act like you’re marrying that mangled stray for anything other than selfish reasons. all of them tying back to the cesspool of mummy and daddy issues that spawned the mess of a man you are now.”

Bruce swallowed, Joker had a strange way of reading him like an open book at times. always peering between the lines, seeing things no one else did. Bruce coped, at times by convincing himself Joker was only gaslighting and manipulating him, as he attempted to do so often. but sometimes the hidden truths he spoke stung like daggers.

“Forget it clown… you're…" He sighs “…you just wouldn’t understand…”

Joker laughed once more, running his fingers through the mop of green hair in his head “heh… no!….. I wouldn't… of course I wouldn’t. but you know why, don’t you?”

“ Joker…”

“because the only thing I understand in this chaos wrought plight of an existence is us! You! … and lately you… well…” his demeanor shifted into something softer almost melancholy “you did the thing you’re oh so skilled at doing when push comes to shove….”

Bruce waited, whispering “what?” Joker looked up at him with misty green eyes

“You surprised me…

…isn’t that supposed to be my job.. Ha…”

Bruce was silent, unsure of how to react, Jokers demeanor began to ramp up again.

“I don’t know why I expected anything more from you… you were always too damned narrow minded and stubborn to see the big picture”

There was a moment of cold silence between them before Joker was properly wound again, springing back into action.

“but I digress!“ He continued, switching gears at the drop of a dime and attempting to wipe the wetness from his face to no avail “None of that matters now! Not me! Not you! Not HER! None of it!” He shook furiously as he raised the trigger box high over his head, eyes wild with desperation. “and so, I’m going to try one last time to blow this city to smoldering smithereens and pray to hell we both go down with it!”

“ Joker NO!” batman calls out as he lunges forward. Joker begins to laugh hysterically and presses the button as he steps over the buildings edge. As the mans other foot slips from the steep drop, batman reaches him just in time to grasp the cuff his dingey purple suit. Joker laughs as he dangles several stories off the ground, flailing like a flag hung up on a pole. He looks up at Bruce. The bat stares back, fear on his face as he uses all his strength to keep the man from falling, even as buildings are engulfed in flames on the horizon. Joker shook his head

“you should know by now bats… “ He yelled for him to hear “You can’t save me!… you shouldn’t bother yourself with it!… ”

“like hell I can’t!” Bruce growled, wearing a face of stubborn determination as he gathered all his strength to pull the other man back up onto the roof, the cuff of his tailored sleeve nearly tearing off in the process. He heaves his body, with a hard slam, back onto stable ground and leans over him, wrinkled shirt in his fists. Joker reaches for something in his coat pocket and pulls out a switchblade, Bruce braces himself for a slash to the face… but it never comes.

Joker only continues to laugh… holding the knife in the air… before dropping it and falling into a breathless fit of hysterics that slowly fades to soft wheezing and soon, to nothing. His his expression softens and his whole body, slumps lifelessly, not dead, but something inside him certainly is, all his fight, lost.

“ Joker?…”

“It wasn’t supposed to, y'know” He said in a small voice.

“supposed to what?” Bruce asked

“Bother me… “ He explained. “You were so sure that what we had between us wasn’t what we thought… that I… that I had almost convinced myself the same thing after a while…”

The subdued sadness in his voice was something Bruce hadn’t been prepared for. this was a side of Joker that existed underneath layers and layers of lies and deceit, fake smiles and giggles. and here it was. bore before him, open and vulnerable.

“When I read that headline, I forced myself to believe the lie you kept pushing between us, because it would be easier…But… after sulking in doubt for five days since?… I just… I-I couldn’t anymore”

Bruce is silent as Joker starts laughing again. His makeup ruined with tears, the playfulness all but drained from his face

“pretty pathetic huh?” He looked up at Bruce with wide and watery green eyes, Bruce searched them for moment, emotion brimming inside him, before casting his gaze out to the destruction surrounding them. orange hues devoured the night sky as his city fell apart, lives ending, memories and legacies being destroyed all by the hands of a man Bruce could never force himself to kill, or let die or even come to harm… as much as he knew Joker had to atone for his actions, no matter the circumstances, he also knew the man in his arms was sick…

…just like he was.

Perhaps the only person he knew who refused to heal and reveled in their own pain as much as he did. When Bruce looked back to the thin, pale, man in his grasp. His eyes were downcast and vacant.

“ Joker…??”

No response, but his chest moved, he still breathed.

“ Joker!“ He shook him , but there was nothing… a small twitch of his brow, shift of his legs that lay, sprawled, on the ground but… nothing. Bruce sighed. Contemplating. Then… Without waiting another moment…

…Bruce snaked an arm beneath his, wrapping the other around the purple clowns frail legs, and lifted him from the ground. The action woke Joker from his daze with a start, his eyes blinking wide in confusion as his hands flexed, digging his fingers into his bats thick bicep in fear that he may be planning to throw him from the roof himself.

Instead Bruce held onto the other man tightly, and jumped from the roof with him in his arms. His gliders automatically activating allowing him to gracefully fall several stories, riding on the hot winds swept up by the raging fires below. As he scanned the skyline he noticed the damage wasn’t nearly as severe as previously thought. Places like the hospital, the orphanage and most if the highly populated narrows, spared.

“they aren’t safe y’know…” Joker whispered into his ear… “but you can save them… I left clues”

“I figured”

“of course you did”

Something close to a smile crossed Bruce’s lips. Born more from relief than anything but also… amusement. He should have felt guilty about enjoying such a dangerous game but… it was what they had.

as he swooped down to the Batmobile waiting at the bottom. Bruce popped the hatched and placed joker into the passenger’s seat, fastening restraints onto his wrists. He did not fight. it unsettled bruce beyond belief but he kept it to himself. With a sigh, Bruce squeezed into his own seat and sped away towards the GCPD. The cabinet of the car was silent aside from the low rumbling of the engine for at least 8 minutes. Eventually Bruce took a chance and spoke.

“things won’t change as much as you think they will….” He assured, not sure why he felt the need to do so.

“you don’t know that… “ The other man whispered, staring out the passenger side window as droplets of water raced on the tinted glass. he was curled in on himself. the lack of legroom making him look cramped despite his unreadable expression.

Bruce opened his mouth to counter… then closed it and turned back to the wheel. As they rode off, flames on either side of them turning up ash despite the rain, a certain word or perhaps a certain phrase was left unspoken. but deep down, despite the confusion and hatred and denial … they knew…. After so many years they finally knew and nothing either of could say would ever suffice… the sun was setting and it was too late for that… much too late.

#batjokes #batman #joker #dc #fanfic

87 notes · View notes

mwcowan · 6 years

Text

Mark & Georgia’s 2018 Philippines Trip

Here we go again, another trip, another blog. For those of you familiar with our recent Road Trip blog this will be of a different sort because it’s going to be a different sort of trip, a mix of business and pleasure. We’ll be based at Georgia’s mom’s house in Manila, making a series of short trips here and there over the next month. Hopefully it will result in some interesting thoughts and photos.

Day 1: Graeagle to Sunnyvale to San Jose to SFO

Seems like I was driving all day, although it was a pleasant drive until I got close to the Bay Area into all the traffic. I’ve really gotten used to the “traffic” in Graeagle, where it’s unusual to see more than 3 cars in town. At Georgia’s suggestion I drove straight to EBR for a visit with my old colleagues and to check up on how things are going there. Quite well it seems, with a number of development projects underway, what we engineers like. But everyone seems to be really stressed with all the clinical and regulatory related tasks on their plates now. That’s what I knew would be coming with the US clinical trial, and I’m even more certain I picked the right time to retire.

Took an hour in that lovely traffic to drive from EBR to Georgia’s sister Dinah’s house (all of 12-13 miles) and another hour to drive to SJC and back for Georgia to return her rental car (she had flown there last week). An hour to pack Georgia’s stuff and back on the road to SFO. In our Road Trip blog it was noted that Georgia has trouble packing light and this trip is no exception.

The box weights 69.5 pounds (carefully titrated as the airline limit is 70), the black suitcase is about 55 pounds, the red carry-on is acceptably light. Not shown is a backpack. Yes she has problems packing light. OK, to give her a break, since we’ll be in Manila on Thanksgiving, the box contains a frozen turkey, ham, and all the fixings for a proper Thanksgiving dinner, things that you can’t get in the Philippines. Plus a LOT of other goodies for her mom, our snorkel gear, etc.. She got her standby cleared quickly, got her ‘luggage’ checked with a few stares from the baggage handlers, and was soon off to her flight to Hong Kong.

With my flight to Tokyo in the morning, I overnighted at an inexpensive motel near SFO, one that turned out to be unexpectedly nice. At least I wasn’t itching in the morning.

In case you don’t know, in the interest of national security we don’t fly together. That’s not really it… Georgia flies Cathay Pacific since she gets family privileges from her sister Vinee, a CP flight attendant. Georgia pays a ridiculously low fare for business class. I fly United since I spent so much time with my butt in their seats for business travel I can buy the cheapest economy fare and use my miles to upgrade.

Day 2: SFO to Hong Kong (Georgia) and Tokyo (Mark)

Both of us had very bumpy flights, on mine the seat belt sign was on most of the time, and the flight attendants were told to buckle up multiple times. Didn’t stop me from eating and drinking my way across the Pacific though; I arrived in Tokyo fully stuffed. Georgia reports the same on arrival to HK.

Flying in the front of the plane is the only way to go; I fear the day when my miles run out. Georgia may have to take a job with an airline so I can get family privileges. Anyway, she’s continuing on to Manila this afternoon while I’m overnighting in Tokyo at another airport hotel and flying on to Manila tomorrow morning. The flight with a 19-hour layover is a lot cheaper than one with a short connection, saving much more than the cost of a hotel. That’s a good enough reason but I admit to being a travel wuss, I like having this break to get cleaned up and rested. No reason to hurry!

Day 3: Tokyo to Manila

Easy travel day to Manila for Mark; couldn’t sleep so got up early and went to the airport (a 2 min walk from my hotel) and had breakfast at the nice ANA lounge. Smooth flight to Manila but with the usual holding pattern on arrival. I’ve never flown into that airport without doing at least a few circles. I think the airport planners are the same people who planned the traffic control in Manila.

Speaking of Manila traffic, shortly after I arrived we needed to drive Georgia’s mom to meet with the family attorney to have some documents notarized. Off we went to Alabang, one of Manila’s districts, with Mark driving and only a vague idea of where we were going… after many calls to the attorney we finally decided we’d never find the meeting spot and just parked and told him where we were. He knew the area well and was able to find us. By the time we headed back home it was dark, which makes driving in Manila even more terrifying. People all over the place, motorcycles, trikes, and jeepneys pulling in and out and stopping wherever and whenever. Feels like you’re inside a video game. Luckily we got home before we ran out of lives; Mark quickly headed to the fridge to grab a much-needed San Mig.

Sorry for not having more pictures, but there havn’t been many photo opportunities up to this point. Things will pick up in a day or two.

Day 4: Manila to Tacloban

A couple errands this morning then back to the house to pack our bags for a 3-night trip (nice light luggage this time!) then to the airport for a quick flight to Tacloban on Leyte island. A couple days of business to conduct here and in Catbalogan on the nearby island of Samar. You probably remember Tacloban from the 2013 super-typhoon Haiyan (Yolanda in the Philippines). Tacloban was the center of devastation from this storm. The city was all but destroyed; nearly 6000 perished in this city alone. Flying in we could see one of the reasons the storm wreaked such havoc – the city and territory surrounding it are very level and low-lying, stretching flat many miles until the mountains are reached. Besides the winds which removed nearly every roof in the city, storm surges of up to 20 feet did the most damage, including completely leveling the airport we flew into. We didn’t know what to expect, but were pleased to see a strongly recovering city and meet a few people whose strength, determination, and pride are readily apparent. There are still a few reminders of the storm, we saw 4 or 5 abandoned, gutted, roofless buildings, but almost all traces are gone and the city has been rebuilt, at least on the roads we passed.

In a striking contrast to Manila, traffic here is very civilized. Our taxi driver actually stopped and let another car enter a roundabout before him! To regress a bit and explain Manila traffic, in the US we drive (most of us at least) by the lines on the road and by rules where for every situation the right of way is defined. Right of way in Manila is determined by which car can squeeze a millimeter in front of the other. Georgia has remarked that it’s a great waste by the government painting lines on the roads as no attention whatsoever is paid to the lines, the number of lanes being defined by the number of cars, trucks, and motorcycles that can possibly squeeze side to side within, and often beyond, the edges of the roadway. It can seem like total chaos, but carnage and catastrophic accidents are minimal as traffic speeds using these principles are generally reduced to a crawl. Vendors in flipflops can walk in between and around cars without fear of being run over as they can move faster than the cars can. It surprisingly works as long as you’re in no hurry to get somewhere.

A side note... if you like a glass of wine or two, finding it can be challenging as the Philippines is not at all a wine-drinking nation. Interestingly enough, grape cultivation and winemaking were brought to California by the Spanish Catholic priests and followed the path of the missions. Yet with 300 years of Philippine colonization by the Spanish, grape growing appears to have been unsuccessful here and wine can be difficult to find.

Normally we don’t worry about it and settle for a cold San Miguel. This evening Georgia was craving a glass before dinner so we asked at the hotel desk where we could find a bar or restaurant that could help us get a fix, and we were pointed to a place across the street. Georgia was excited when the menu had a small wine list, including two Cabernets and a Merlot. She asked for one of the Cabernets; the waitress said she had to go check if they had it. She came back shortly and apologized, saying they were out of that wine. Georgia asked for the other Cabernet. Sorry we’re out of that one too. OK, what about the Merlot? Sorry ma’am, we’re out of the Merlot too. Do you have any wines? No ma’am, we’re out of all wines. Amusing to us at least as this is a recurring story – we’ve even seen nice restaurants in large hotels in Manila, with impressive wine lists, unable to produce anything but a Barefoot Bynum red. Maybe Georgia goes to work for an airline, and Mark starts a wine import business. We finally got a lead for a nice Italian restaurant, which had a good selection of Italian wines. An excellent dinner and Georgia finally got her wine! Another thing you wouldn’t expect here is great Italian food – we both feel that we’ve found some of the best outside of Italy, in restaurants started by Italian ex-pats who have been captured by Filipina wives (or vice-versa)! I can understand that. 😊

Day 5: Tacloban to Catbalogan

This morning’s business was a meeting with the local head of the Philippines Land Bank. This is a government-chartered organization obtaining land and re-selling to farmers. The income from the farmer’s loans funds the acquisition of property. The subject transactions here are about 165 hectares (400+ acres) of family-owned property in Catbalogan, much of which has been settled on by squatters/farmers. This is the type of land the Land Bank is trying to get, to officially distribute to the squatters and make them legal taxpayers. The family has been trying for many years to deed the property over and receive payment. Many frustrating years, always being told that this document or the other is needed; when that’s produced there’s always another. And then the next time they go back, the official they were working with isn’t there any more and no one has any recollection of previous actions.

The meeting went well, it seems that the government is making an effort to centralize and simplify these things, for example going forward this can be handled through the office in Manila rather than having to travel to Tacloban. According to the official very little is left to do before this can be completed. Georgia warns that we shouldn’t count on this assurance yet.

Now we’re tourists for the afternoon – our driver picks us up from the Land Bank and we head towards Catbalogan. We’d hired a driver and car for the day to take us around on our errands and then deliver us to Catbalogan, about 110 km from Tacloban. On the way he drove us through one of the areas hardest hit by the typhoon, a low-lying seaside area of shanty homes. You may remember seeing post-typhoon pictures of a large freighter sitting on land quite a way from the water – rather than removing the whole thing they left it in place, some 300 meters from the water, built some structure around it and turned it into a memorial for the Typhoon victims. Strange to see a freighter in the neighborhood but a fitting tribute.

The disturbing part of it though is the neighborhood. The whole area was completely swept bare, but it’s been rebuilt as it was, with poorly constructed shacks of wood and tin. That’s how the people lived before, and what they know, but it’s a shame that the government didn’t help relocate them or at least build more substantial homes.

We drive over the San Juanico bridge which links Leyte and Samar islands, the longest bridge in the Philippines, built during the Marcos regime. Current president Duterte plans to build a longer one (mine’s longer than yours!) linking Luzon to Visayas but it hasn’t been built yet. Following the bridge is a winding 2-hour drive up the mountains and back down into Catbalogan.

Catbalogan is a city “in the provinces”. I’d heard that term before but wasn’t sure what Filipinos were referring to – the meaning is similar but more polite sounding than our euphemism “out in the boonies”. It’s a busy city, but very remote and without many of the amenities you find in the larger cities. We’re booked at the most expensive hotel in town: a “deluxe triple room” with private bath is $34/night. The room is cozy with a double and a single bed and not much space to move around, but the hotel is spotlessly clean, due we think to the army of OJT (on-job-training) helpers from a local high school. At least 20 of these always-smiling faces are constantly cleaning and re-cleaning, each one stopping to give us a warm greeting whenever we appear, coming or going.

To me, Catbalogan is the “city of trikes”. Manila has a lot of trikes, but this city is totally clogged with them, and they’re all in (slow) motion all the time. Both motor- and human-powered, passenger trikes and delivery, they’re everywhere. Colorful, each has been customized by its owner, with the owner’s name and often a favorite bible verse or a personal testament to the glory of God emblazoned on front or back. Some busses and delivery trucks are also on the streets, but few private cars. Why would you need one? A noisy and bumpy ride on a motor trike costs 8 pesos (about 15 cents) to take you anywhere in the city. The pedal trikes are the economy ride, only 7 pesos. We go first class!

You can play a quick video of a trike ride in Catbalogan here:

https://photos.app.goo.gl/3SMSh43GFNhmnvf79

Day 6: Catbalogan

Business day #2 with visits to the Registry of Deeds (task is to get the deed to the property annotated with the names of the new settlers), then to the Department of Agrarian Reform (task unknown). Conference with Georgia’s sister in the US and back to the DAR to ask for a map of the new property division. Both the ROD and DAR have promised to have the documents ready tomorrow morning so back we’ll go.

While here in Catbalogan we’ve been “taken care of” by a family that is linked to Georgia’s by a long friendship. Third-generation daughter Bayan has been helpful getting us to the various appointments; today we met Lola (grandmother) Noling, the family matriarch, at her electronics and appliance store she’s been running for 65 years. She’s 87 and going strong, no hurry to retire. We were chatting in the store and asked if they knew a place that had good Tomalos – a Filipino take on the tamale with rice “masa” around a pork filling, coated with peanut butter, then wrapped in banana leaf and steamed. With typical Filipino hospitality, it seemed only minutes before table and chairs were pulled out and Tamalos and Lumpia appeared for us to try. Different, delicious, and RICH! Georgia and I couldn’t quite finish a whole one. And also in true Filipino fashion just as we were putting our forks down we were asked what we’d like for lunch. Oh jeez, didn’t we just finish lunch? Lola Noling definitely wanted to take us out so we agreed to dinner, we’ll meet her at the store around closing time.

Dinner was at a nice restaurant right on the harbor, with Lola Noling, daughter Collette (Bayan’s mom), two of her sons Bong and Jun, Bayan, and a few more family members. A feast of delicious food, more than enough beer, hilarious conversation with her sons trying to speak English and me trying to understand Taglish – it was one of those amazing times that leaves you with a smile, a warm heart, and a new family.

Day 7: Catbalogan to Tacloban to Manila

Georgia thinks I’m writing too much. Maybe I’m trying to find things to write about in the absence of any real interesting travel. I’ll keep it short today.

Two more appointments this morning. First back at the DAR to pick up maps of the property. This visit was successful. Then an appointment at the Registry of Deeds to meet with the registrar whom Georgia had an appointment with yesterday but she wasn’t in the office. She was most helpful (not) explaining the number of documents that still needed to be completed and 2 new cities we would have to visit to get this done. One step forward, 2 back.

We took a shared ride van back to Tacloban, through rain most of the way. The highlight of the day was a 30 minute trike ride from the van terminal to the airport, in the rain. Remember, these things don’t have doors – Mark held an umbrella out as a door/windshield and managed to stay pretty dry. His luggage tied to the back of the trike didn’t fare quite as well.

Day 8: Manila to Nasugbu

Finally! Today we made the 2 ½ hour drive from Manila to Nasugbu, the location of Kawayan Cove and our house-to-be. This is the third time we’ve made this drive ourselves (no driver) and it’s starting to seem familiar, at least when we get out of Manila and onto the Cavite Expressway heading south. Today I got very much the same feeling as when I drive from the Bay Area to Graeagle, with lots of traffic and the associated stress until we reach Auburn, about halfway there. After that it’s an enjoyable drive through the mountains and pine forests the rest of the way. This was very similar – through Manila, Cavite, all the way to Naic it’s a lot of traffic and those ever-annoying trikes. Past Naic you enter the mountains, tropical jungle rather than pine trees, and all the traffic, trikes, and stress disappear. Finally we get our first view of the Batangas coast, and get that peaceful feeling that we’re getting close to home.

We’re staying for three nights at Punta Fuego, a members-only golf and residential club just up the coast from Kawayan Cove. Luckily one of Georgia’s brother-in-law’s parents are members here and can make reservations for us at one of the club’s guest “casitas”.

Lovely place with a lot of different beaches and nice amenities – we looked at properties here but as this is one of the older developments along this coast all of the better lots are already taken, and we had our hearts set on an ocean view. Not to mention the prices, and the monthly dues, and all that…

Tomorrow we get to see our house for the first time!

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imagineclaireandjamie · 7 years

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After this last episode with the making the 'batsuit' scene you should totally do a story about the first time Claire made some sort of costume for Bree

For the first time in my life, I cursed my juvenile disinterest in sewing. As a child, I’d mended clothes out of sheer necessity, the rigor of constant travel taking its toll on my shirts and trousers. I had cared little for skill back then, regarding the whole affair as a tedious chore that kept me from more important duties—namely, dusting off bones for Lamb.

As an adult, I was a surgeon, but even that seemed to do me no favors. Despite my professional expertise—how many wounds had I stitched with far sharper tools on far more delicate materials? —it seemed I still couldn’t manage a bloody Halloween costume. In previous years, I’d simply bought one or asked Millie, our neighbor, for a helping hand at the cost of a bottle of wine.

My break from tradition was inspired by a recent conversation, whereupon it was revealed—to the horror of several Betty Crocker types—I had no plans to slave over a Singer for the sake of my daughter’s trick-or-treating.

“Oh, but you must,” one woman had said.

“Your child would so appreciate it,” another had chimed in.

“She’ll be the only one whose mother didn’t make her costume.”

I’d rather thought Bree wouldn’t notice either way, she being the sort who’d drape a sheet over her head, stare through two circular cut-outs, and cry “Boo!” as if she were the most convincing ghost in the world. But the women’s scornful expressions had stayed with me, stirring up feelings I hadn’t felt since I’d arrived in America: a nagging self-consciousness; a desperate need to prove myself.

Bree was ecstatic when I informed her that I, not Millie, would be making her costume this Halloween, and what was it she’d like to be? Frank’s incessant prattling about the monarchy had clearly made an impression. Of all things, Bree had chosen Queen Elizabeth II, who’d been crowned the year before.

If I’d known how complicated it would be, I might have scrapped the project altogether and thrust expensive merlot in Millie’s face. Being without such hindsight, I now had a half-constructed dress that looked more like a war casualty than a royal ballgown.

“You sodding bastard,” I barked at the sewing machine.

My daughter, sitting not five feet away, looked up from her book with a delighted smirk. I groaned, already envisioning the moment Frank would walk through the door, greeted by an oral report of the day’s linguistic infractions (most of them mine). Though Bree shared her biological father’s penchant for mischief, she’d adopted the English reserve of the man who raised her. With frequent lapses, of course—she, after all, was my child too.

“Mama,” she tsked now, “you know what that means…” Smiling, she pointed towards the table beneath the window, which sat littered with the odds and ends of our daily life. The dried stems of pressed flowers sprouted from a medical textbook. A dog toy, practically chewed into oblivion, sat beside Frank’s corn cob pipe—a habit he’d taken up as a way of ingratiating himself to Harvard’s social circles. At the center of it all, however, stood the glass jar whose cheery label, “SWEAR BANK,” had become the bane of my existence.

Two weeks ago, Frank and I had been called to Bree’s school on the grounds of discussing a recent misbehavior. Our daughter, it seemed, had a fondness for words that were unsuitable to a woman of 35, much less a girl of 6. The principal’s meaningful looks had plainly indicated he knew where—or from whom—Brianna had received her vocabulary lessons.

“Children, you know,” he’d said, leaning forwards. “They don’t just learn these things by themselves. I think some disciplinary action could be taken at home…”

And so it was by Principal Gellar’s suggestion that we—the Randalls of ill repute—came to use a swear jar. For every curse, the delinquent had to add two quarters, with each subsequent offense requiring double that amount. A mild punishment, I’d thought, until it was obvious that losing pocket change wasn’t sufficient inducement to watch my own mouth.

Because of this, it was agreed that I prepare a proper dinner—from scratch, not frozen—if I exceeded my daily max of five swear words. Frank promised to exchange his loose leaf tea for Lipton’s, should he do the same, though this was more a demonstration of his superiority than his solidarity. Unless provoked, he rarely said more than the occasional “damn” in Bree’s presence.

Rummaging through the purse at my feet, I extracted money from my wallet.

“There,” I said, giving it to Bree. “Happy?”

Bills in one hand, Bree counted her fingers on the other, “That’s six today, Mama,” she said, still smirking. “So what’s for dinner?”

I snorted and motioned her towards me. “Well, if you want this costume finished, I’ll have to take a rain check.” I looked at the chaos strewn about my work table. “A two-week rain check.”

“I guess that’s okay,” Bree said, skipping over to my side. “Daddy and I will have meatloaf tonight, and you can have soap.”

I laughed. It always baffled me how my child—once a gurgling thing with an untamable cowlick—had transformed into a human capable of swear words and jokes.

As they always did when Bree came close, one of her hands automatically rested on my head, tiny fingers submerging themselves in a tousle of curls. They found the tender patch behind my ears, beginning an idle massage that expelled all tension from my body.

She’d done this as a baby—then, with a naïve curiosity; now, by the simple force of habit. It reminded me of someone else, though I knew it was merely coincidence and not some genetic trait passed down through the centuries. Still, the small fingers always grew larger in my mind—pads turned to callous and nails made blunt—as they moved in slow, gentle circles towards my temples. I could hear Gaelic, spoken softly, and see a calmness wash over a startled horse, as it now washed over me.

I shook the memory away, and returned to the disaster cascading into my lap.

Really, there was no hope for it. Uneven hems. Too-large and crooked stitches. The circumference of one shirtsleeve would fit someone’s thigh, not Bree’s skinny arm.

“Smudge,” I sighed, “perhaps this wasn’t a good idea. I mean—” I gestured at the clumsy mess before me, and Bree removed her hand.

She leaned closer, head tilted to examine the work I’d done until her expression turned into one of obvious resolve. “I could always be a hobo,” she said matter-of-factly. “Or a garbage man.”

In that moment, I swear I had never loved her more.

Clearly unconcerned, Bree flopped down on the couch, and asked, “What’d you dress up as when you were a kid, Mama?”

“Come to think of it, I can only remember one Halloween,” I said, sitting back. “I was a little older than you, and my outfit was a hodge-podge of things. Somewhere between Indiana Jones and a girl who raided a closet, blindfolded.”

As a vagabond who drifted from continent and continent, Halloween never seemed to cross Lamb’s mind. A brief lecture, perhaps, about its pagan origins—but there was none of the pomp and circumstance one would see today. Being only vaguely aware of the holiday’s existence myself, I had never found us lacking for it. Our days were already filled with adventures, strange characters, and the spirits of years past.

It was one of Lamb’s colleagues—a charismatic American named Tom—who put forth the notion we hold a celebration of our own. Even I, who by this time was more adult than child, couldn’t resist the idea of being someone else, swapping ghost stories under a full moon, and gorging myself on sweets.

Lamb, bless his soul, was more than happy to oblige me. It was a belated birthday present of sorts, as October 20th, 1926 had passed in whirlwind of sand and dirt. The more immediate concerns of suffocation and hazardous winds had taken precedence over cake and candles that day.

Lamb and Tom took me to the market one morning, each of us bouncing from stall to stall to inspect the wares. After hours of browsing, we’d managed to scrape together a rudimentary costume, though it had none of the frills, silks, or skirts Tom had assumed I’d want.

“Are you sure you don’t want to be a princess?” he’d said, regarding me sideways. At the insistent (and fiftieth) shake of my head, Lamb had clapped Tom on the back with a jovial smile, reminding him that I was a girl who preferred slouch hats to tiaras. I recall grinning up at him, then, and taking his hand as we walked back to camp. In truth, I think I’d just wanted to be Lamb for a night.

And so there I was days later: a poor man’s cowgirl astride an invisible horse, galloping through the nearby village in search of treats. Naturally, few people were prepared for the presence of my wild-eyed, boyish self at their door. But most smiled at my requests—all spoken with a pitiful Southern twang—and indulged me with whatever they could spare. Lamb, meanwhile, stood at my side—an elderly pirate-guard who assured them we were not, in fact, bandits.

We returned to camp at sundown with a sack full of furry, odorous, and glittering miscellany slung across my shoulder. Against all sense, someone had given me a pack of cigars, and I placed one between my lips. Knees braced and arranging my hands into a finger gun, I did my best Butch Cassidy impression as Lamb inspected the bag for other inappropriate goods.

“That stuff ain’t yours, old man,” I’d said, words mumbled by the cigar. “Stick ‘em up.”

Lamb had hooted, crying, “Excellent, my dear! Just marvelous!” and took a seat across the fire. His head bent before a lit match, the flame lighting the end of one of the contraband cigars.

What I remember most, though, was his face when he looked up at me. My cheeks were flushed beneath a layer of grime. My too-long pants were pooled around my feet, while my dark hair was pulled into a bushy ponytail. I imagine I’d been the image of freedom and recklessness—a person who appreciated the simplest of joys, like dress-up and too much sugar.

“You’ve always favored your mother, Claire. But I daresay that right now…” And here, Lamb’s eyes had shimmered, his expression grown suddenly soft. “Right now I see so much of your father in you.”

“Mama?” A voice broke through the haze of my memory. “Mama, were you listening to me?”

“Hmm?” I said distractedly, slowly returning to the present. Shaking her head, Bree said, “Maybe next year I could be a cowgirl too?” before launching onto an entirely different topic.

Seeing my daughter chatting confidently away, her hands fluttering with the excitement of conversation, of being with someone…Seeing her hair catch the sinking sun and the mischief inside her curving mouth—a mouth that would never cease to amaze me with its jokes and its compliments and its observations. Seeing these things, and how her slanted blue eyes took in her shabby costume—unbothered by its inelegance but appreciative of the work I’d put into it—I thought I saw so much of her father in her too.

#flightsnitch96 #;mod liv #featuring: bree #i vomited on the page and this was the result

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elevenhoursinfront-blog · 7 years

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19th June 2017

My alarm was on for 0900. Steve didn't realise until he was in bed that he started work at 1330 rather than 0730. Good job he had a look. I had to be up regardless to pay my rent that was due. We have to pay before 1000 on Monday's otherwise we get charged, they're not kind about it either. We had a warning once because we paid at 1015. Next time, we get our deposit taken from us. Stupid hostel. We tried to get in the shower after breakfast but there wasn't any hot water. This hostel constantly has water problems during the day. The have people in and out sorting the pipes out so they always turn it off between 1100-1430 which is ridiculously annoying, especially when you need to go to the toilet and you can't flush... Steve left for work at 1230. I started to sort my box out under the bed when Sophie knocked. She came up for a chat and so that I could do her neck bandage too. By the time she left, it was 1330. We were both starving so we agreed to meet on level 3 for lunch together, once I got dressed. I was still in my PJ's. I am in desperate need to find new pyjamas. I've had the same ones since I've arrived here in Australia (I know, my mum calls me a grubby b***h for reasons like this one). They are washed frequently but they've become horrible. I've tried loads of PJ's on in stores but I can never find any that fit. Either the top is too small, the trousers too big... It's so irritating. I need some that are suitable to go into a kitchen full of 30 strangers too. Who knew it'd be so difficult? Any who, I went downstairs and Sophie was making cheese rolls. She always has pumpkin seed fresh rolls from Coles and she grills cheese on them. It looks delicious. I made beans on toast as the last few slices of bread were going off and we had the BBQ beans in the bag for God knows how long. Main reason being: I pinged the tin flicky thing off so there was no way of me getting into it. Luckily, a guy called Corey managed to use one of those big tin openers. It's the size of my arm attached to one of the cooking benches. I haven't a clue how to use it. We sat down eating and Megs came home from work. It was her short day at work so she managed to make a cheese sandwich and join us. We all needed to do a food shop so we left for Aldi shortly after. We had to walk the 7-8 blocks to the store as something happened involving a lot of Police, therefore the trams weren't moving well. It takes forever to walk, especially around 1500 as the pavements are so packed with people, you're constantly dodging in and out. People crossing over you and overtaking, walking too slowly. It wouldn't be so bad if we all didn't have to wait at the traffic lights to cross the roads. We got to Aldi and we split up. Mainly because I try not to buy the almond chocolate that they both buy. It's my favourite and I can do without it! I got to the end of the isle and my phone started to ring... I answered it and it was Rebecca's PA Lily. How exciting! She was offering me a job - OH MY GOD! WAHOO. The job starts TOMORROW at 0900-1700 for 6 weeks!! I stood there in the corner staring at tampons looking like a weirdo. I tried to get away from people hearing what I was saying but I must've been attracting people to stare at me. Lily stated that I received amazing feedback from Lisa, my old boss at ANZSOG. In fact, Lily rang me twice in the same day to tell me how good my feedback was. I felt really happy about that. The job is for Momentum Energy doing data entry. Simple really. The job could get extended for 6 months which is great. I will not be staying for that long but they don't need to know that. I'll just say my plans have changed. Job accepted. I carried on doing my shopping excited as anything. I couldn't wait to get back and tell everyone, mainly Steve. I treated myself to an Aldi bottle of wine - $2.50. I know what you're thinking - HEY BIG SPENDER. What an absolute bargain. Shiraz Merlot, not my favourite, but beggars cannot be choosers. I bought a whole lot of food shopping and it came to $28. Not bad for two people. Sophie got to the conveyor belt and realised that she didn't have her bank card. She went to take everything off and put it back but I told her I would pay. I'd be mortified if that was myself. She could pay me back whenever, I wasn't bothered. We left Aldi and walked to the tram stop. The other two walked, I struggled. The bag was so heavy I was carrying it like a baby. My arms were killing me. Sophie offered to take one strap and we share the weight but the bag wouldn't have held if we did. It was that heavy. I struggled the whole way home with my left arm going dead. We got to the lift and a male asked if I needed any help. I declined as I was almost there, nice chap though. Scottish I think. I was sure I was looking like Popeye with my left arm muscles bulging out. Just called me Arnold from now on. Did you know, women lose the most calories when shopping because they carry so many bags? Fun fact for you. I put the shopping away, as did Meg and Soph. We sat down and Mel walked in from work. I told her my exciting news and she was buzzing for me. I told her where it was and she replied with "Jack works there!". I couldn't believe it - how strange! Lily did say I'd be working with another temp from Robert Half, although she said the name was Kayleigh. Maybe Lily got it wrong. I was dead excited to know somebody. Steve and Dan walked in from work about 15 minutes later and I told him the good news. He was buzzing for me. At least that's 6 weeks worth of work coming our way. We weren't going to be homeless any time soon - wahoo! Mel looked mortified and said "Charlie. Jack just got fired - you're his replacement". I was horrified. What do I say to that? Mel is my closest friend here and I just replaced her boyfriend at work. Awful. I felt awful. Mel got up and went to ring Jack. She spent like half an hour on the phone to him. Sophie told me not to feel bad as it wasn't my fault. Of course it wasn't, I still felt bad though. It could've been anyone that replaced him. Mel came back and said he wasn't angry (which I hoped he wasn't). Not that he had any reason to be angry at me. I was just gutted and overthinking things. I no longer wanted the role, especially as they fire people. Steve and I had dinner and I missed BINGO. I finished cooking too late but the others went off without me. I didn't mind, I needed to go upstairs and get myself sorted for work in the morning. We got upstairs and we had a new roommate. I didn't know where he was from but he was kind of rude. He placed all his bags in the way of my bed and Steve's bed. It was just strange. He has every bit of room in this dorm and he chooses to put it all over our area. I got showered and placed my stuff under my bed so I could reach it in the dark. I can't wait to get ready in the mornings with the light on again. What a dream that would be. Also, it would be nice to get dressed not squished in a toilet cubicle. I FaceTimed my mum for a bit. After that, bed time. At least, I thought it would be until roadworks started outside. It seems here they do all their building work during the night. I'm so angry that this is allowed. It's ridiculously loud and right outside our window. Diggers, road grinders and all sorts going consistently. I wanted to scream.

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