#the last time I went a couple of years ago I got my cane taken off me by a staff member lmfao

[mouthpoisons]

I just saw a twitter post that was saying if you’re disabled or mentally ill you get free lifetime access to (American) national parks and I hate that my immediate thought was “how do they check” . They. They don’t check do they. I asked my friends ages ago about disability access in themeparks because they fucking grill you over here but according to my pals they just let you and as far as I know asking for proof of disability is actually like against ada laws

[littleheathen]

i haven't really talked about this on here or really anywhere but it's been bothering me and i haven't taken the time to like. think through it. so i'm public journaling

last year in march, my boyfriend and i moved into a new apartment, which was great, that isn't the problem. around the same time, i started noticing something was wrong with my back. it was hurting in the same place a lot, but i had sciatica as a teenager, so i thought it was just that

for months, i still worked at an in-person job (with only like...2 other people, thankfully), but i didn't have to walk all that much for it, so i just ignored it. it was ignorable, until i started really feeling it on my walks home. my back hurt so bad that i could barely move my legs and i would just heave and cry until i got home

that place ended up closing, so i got a remote job again, partially bc of covid and partially bc of my back. that was last august.

now, it's gotten so bad that i can't walk or stand for more than a few minutes...when i told my doctors, they both told me i needed to do physical therapy. which i did, several times, but bc i don't drive and i can't walk to the bus stop, i couldn't really keep going

all this is to say that i am coming to terms with my limited mobility. i had a cane from years ago that i got for free, and i took it with me to the drag show (masked of course) we went to a couple weeks ago. no one said anything, i'm sure people were looking, but it was fine. it helped

pride in my city is coming up soon, and in order to last for that long of an outing, i will absolutely have to use my rollator. it's a great rollator, i am so so so lucky i have a family that was willing and able to get me one, i don't want to sound ungrateful or like a 'woe is me' previously able-bodied person. it's just that a lot of things are happening to my body that i wasn't ready for and i'm coming to terms with all of them

we're going to a mini-con tomorrow, and i'm thinking of taking my rollator there, but it's scary to feel like i have to ask other people to make space for me. i don't think about that when i see other people using mobility devices, but idk, it's different bc it's me

it's kinda the same with my autism and bipolar. yes, i've had those all my life, but it wasn't until i was an adult that i became aware of them and it wasn't until like the last two years that i realized just how much they affect my life and how i interact with other people. i have such low tolerance for discomfort that i have trouble even keeping a job

my boyfriend and i rarely leave the apartment...literally like two or three times a month max. for all of the reasons above and of course covid. i struggle all the time with wanting my life to be this way and also feeling kind of pathetic bc...my life is this way. but idk, it's the most tolerable way to live, and i was a homebody long before i became the person i am now. i tried going out and having a big friend group and whatever but i hated it and i don't want to go back, even if i could

ummmm anyway that's my update. i think i might decorate my rollator so i feel more connected to it and want to show it off

ok. thanks luv u

[fourteen--steps]

So my little sunshine boy had surgery on Thursday!

I posted some pictures back in October of the tumor that had grown on his side over the course of about two years wondering what to do about it. He answered that question for me last week when he somehow gashed it open on something and ripped it partly off. Meaning it was time to find a vet asap and get it removed! I have some before and after pictures for anyone who's interested (and for myself to track his progress) that I'm posting under a cut since some of them are a bit icky

Tl;dr, surgery was quick and easy, and two days post op he's doing really well :) I'm really relieved.

So this is what he did that set off the vet hunt 🤦‍♀️ I still have no idea how he managed it, basically everything in the tank is either live plant or silk and soft plastic (save like 2 rocks and the filter plumbing I guess?) But yeah, it went in and up underneath the mass. It was healing pretty well within a few days but I was super worried about him tearing it off further.

I wish I had taken more pics at the vet to show the process. I know not many people take fish to vets and before my first time a few years ago I wish I'd known better what to expect!

I brought him in a 5 gallon bucket of tank water. Some places will also have you bring extra water for sedation or testing purposes. The vet tech took down a bunch of info about my husbandry (tank size, how many fish, maintenance schedule, Remy's age and medical history, the medical history of other fish in the tank, etc).

He was sedated using MS-222, which is an anesthetic approved for use in fish, and the vet did a quick exam of the mass and his overall body condition, as well as getting a proper measure of his weight (130g!!!). He was under for only a couple of minutes before they put him back in his home bucket to wake up and recover. In the meantime the vet gave me his thoughts on the mass (most likely a benign fibroma of genetic origin, like most goldfish tumors are) and gave me opportunities to ask questions. Always ask your vet questions! It's important to be comfortable and understand what's going on.

Only after Remy had fully recovered from the first sedation was he taken to the back to be sedated again for the surgery itself. It took all of 15 minutes before they brought him back out, already mostly awake. Here he is in the recovery tub :)

That's silvadene cream on the surgical site, which I thought was kinda funny since that's the same stuff I used on Nuka (who is a snake) after his surgery. They offered to send me home with some but we decided against it since the stress of chasing him around to take him out and put it on twice a day probably wasn't worth the small benefit.

He also got a pain reliever injection and a fortaz injection to hopefully head off any potential infection.

My favorite pic, tiny 😧 mouth

Here's the mass itself! Seeing it on its own I realized how big the thing was. I kinda wanted to take it with me but the doc said no since it was in formalin 😪 Something something, what if my drunk friends drink it by accident, something something. Like cmooooon I have a six foot fish tank and walk with a cane, you think I have friends?

The silvadene had washed off by itself by the time we made the drive home so I grabbed the poor long suffering fishy for one more pic of the wound itself just so I can track the healing from day to day. It's a bit crispy looking here cause the vet had to go down into the muscle and cauterize it in a few places, but it already looks better than this.

Anyway, he definitely felt pretty bad for the rest of that day. Which I think he was entitled to! But as of now he is back to his usual self. I've added some salt to the water and will be watching him carefully, but I'm hopeful the worst is past.

[buckstaposition]

Don’t wanna miss a thing

Birthday song challenge for @din-damn-djarin (prompt 37)

Marcus Moreno x widowed f!reader, Missy Moreno & reader 

1999 words

summary & warnings: Just days before your wedding to Marcus, your emotions are going a bit haywire. Starts angsty but turns fluffy I promise! Themes of loss and grief, loss of a spouse/family member

Sobbing in the bathtub a couple of days before your wedding was not where you thought this evening was going, but here you were. Bawling your eyes out. You had just meant to take a quick shower to freshen up before bed, as your day had been mostly filled with last minute preparations and you were sweaty from hauling around decorations. Maybe not hiring a wedding planner had been a mistake, in more ways than one.

“Honey? You in there?” Marcus’ voice sounded after a hesitant knock on the bathroom door. You knew you should answer him, but you just didn’t have the strength to at this moment.

“Sweetheart?” He tried again, and you could hear the worry in his tone and it only made you feel worse.

“I’m coming in.” Marcus warned after another two minutes or so. It was endearing how considerate he was of your privacy even though you’d told him it was okay to come into the bathroom with you on numerous occasions. If you really didn’t want anyone to come in you’d lock the door and he was the man you were going to marry in less than 48 hours.

The door creaked open and Marcus padded across the bathmat, slowly pulling aside the shower curtain.

“Darling?” Hesitantly, he reached out his hand to you, gently nudging your shoulder. Still sobbing, you gripped it and held it to your face, kissing his palm between tears and hoping he’d understand. Even if you didn’t.

“Is this about Sean?” He asked softly, thumb caressing your cheekbone. You nodded. Marcus sighed; he hated seeing you upset. Just like Sean had. Marcus nudged your chin up and pressed a kiss to your forehead, not caring that the water got on his glasses.

“If you want to be alone for a bit longer that’s alright, but please let me get you out of the shower? You’re shivering.”

It was true enough. The water had gone cold a while ago and now, taking stock of your body you realized you were freezing. You nodded and let Marcus help you up and wrap you in the big fluffy towels he’d bought the two of you as a house-warming gift when you’d moved in together. You leaned on him as he dried you off, suddenly exhausted from your outburst of emotion. You let him help you dress yourself in your fluffiest pyjamas, the shivers slowly subsiding when he pulled your extra fluffy socks onto your feet.

“Okay?” He asked, kneeling on the ground between your feet while you were sitting on your shared bed. You nodded absently, catching his hand and bringing it up to your face. The tears had stopped but the deep sadness lingered.

“Please stay?” You whispered. He kissed your knee, then your free hand.

“I’ll just tell Missy good night, okay?”

A noise from the hallway drew your attention. Missy stood in the doorframe like summoned, and your heart broke at her anxious expression.

“Hey bunny.” You tried to smile, but it didn’t quiet reach your eyes. Missy looked between you and Marcus in concern, her lip starting to quiver.

“Bunny, what is it?” You patted the space next to you, inviting her to sit. After a look at her father, she rushed over, instantly wrapping her arms around you. You exchanged a worried glance with Marcus, and he rose to sit down at his daughter’s other side.

“What’s wrong, bunny? You know you can tell me.” You coaxed again, your own undefined sorrows forgotten in face of her obvious anguish.

“Diyouchangeyourmindaboutthewedding?” It rushed out of her in one breath and she clung to you harder. You hugged her back, squeezing her smaller frame tightly and caressing her hair.

“Oh sweetie, no! Why would you think that?”

“Cuz I heard you crying and-“ she hiccupped a sob into your shoulder, her voice small when she continued. “Please don’t leave us!”

“Oh bunny!” Your own eyes were starting to water again. “I won’t! I won’t ever leave you! You two are my whole world!”

You squeeze her tightly to you, feel Marcus’ arms enveloping you both and look up briefly to see how he’s doing with all this. The look on his face is heart-breaking, and you lean over quickly to press a reassuring kiss to his lips.

“Then why are you so upset?” Missy sniffled. You sighed and ordered your thoughts, mad at yourself for causing anguish to this girl you’ve grown to love so much.

“It’s sort of a silly thing really.” You began. “You know how I was married before?”

“Yeah.” You’d taken her to see his grave once, just like Marcus and Missy had taken you to meet the previous Mrs Moreno. It felt only right. “You still miss him?”

“Yes. Yes, I do. I always will, but that’s not what made me cry. It was… I feel guilty for being so happy, with you two. Does that make sense?”

“Yeah…no… I don’t know.” Missy scrunched up her nose in thought. She was a smart girl, very mature for her age, but in the end she was still only a twelve-year-old girl.

“You see, when you lose someone you love very much, that grief never really goes away. Like you still miss your mom, right?”

“Every day.” She sniffled a bit less now, and looked up at her father, who nodded silently. “But I’d miss you, too!”

“I know, bunny.” You kissed her forehead, wanting to soothe her. “You won’t ever have to choose between us. Your mom is your mom and that will never change.”

“I don’t want to have to choose.” Missy whispered, wiping her tears away. “But I still want her back.”

“I know, bunny, I know. I want my husband back all the time, too.” You exchanged another glance with Marcus, glad to see that he understood and let you take the lead in this discussion. It warmed your heart to know how unconditionally he trusted you with his daughter. “It’s so unfair, isn’t it? It makes me so angry sometimes that it happened to me.”

“It does?” Missy’s eyes went wide. She turned to her father to confirm and he nodded, mouthing a soft ‘yeah, me too’ to her.

“The point is, it’s okay to feel all these conflicting things. And sometimes they might overwhelm you, like they did me today, and that’s okay too because I have people who are there for me when that happens.”

“You know you can always talk to me, us, about anything. Or grandma. Or your friends.” Marcus hugged her close and wiped away her tears, like he had yours earlier. “And if that’s not enough we will do anything to help you, okay?”

“Okay.” Missy smiled a watery smile, snuggling into her dad while holding your hand close. The three of you huddled together for a few minutes, giving everyone the chance to settle. Missy, being a kid, bounced back fastest.

“Can we have a movie night?” She looked at you both with the big puppy eyes she had inherited from her father and perfected over the course of her young life. You didn’t even need to look at Marcus to know the answer.

“And what movie were you thinking?”

“Mulan!”

“Okay, you prep the TV, I’ll get on the popcorn.” Marcus prompted, motioning for her to go ahead downstairs. She was out of the room with the speed of lightning.

“You sure that kid doesn’t have any powers? Super speed maybe?”

“Positive. You okay, honey?” He cupped your cheek and looked deep into your eyes, gaze searching.

“Positive. This actually really helped.” You smiled and leaned in for a small kiss. “So, I think we’re not too bad at this parenting thing, huh?”

“Are you kidding? You’re amazing at it!” Marcus hugged you close, kissing your forehead and then your cheek. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

---

The reception was in full swing and everyone was enjoying themselves. There had been no mishaps save for the kind that would make for funny stories later and the cake was almost gone. Almost being the operative word. You were in your seat, relieved to be sitting down for a while and re-braiding Missy’s hair where the decorative ribbons and flowers had come loose during the day. Marcus was weaving his way through the guests back to your table, grinning triumphantly.

“Swiped the last slice of cake while Colin wasn’t looking.” You looked behind him to see Miracle Guy frowning at the now empty cake stand.

“Oh darling, you shouldn’t have!” You protested insincerely. It was your wedding after all. You felt you were entitled to some cake.

“He’s already had two!” Marcus put the plate down in front of you and produced some clean cutlery from his pocket. “Besides, anything for my girls.”

“Awww, you’re the best husband and dad!” You pulled him in by his bowtie to press a kiss to his lips.

“Gross.” Missy commented, snatching up one of the small fancy forks and starting to dig in. The two of you paid her no mind, too engrossed in your new marital bliss. You took turns feeding each other cake in between kisses and whispering sweet things, but really Missy got most of it. You didn’t even notice the band switching to a new song. Or the announcement they had made just before that, apparently. At least not until Anita planted herself right in front of your table and brought her cane down hard on the ground.

“You two! Stop canoodling! It’s time for your dance!”

“Mom!” Marcus whined, mostly for show as he was already pulling his tux jacket back on in the same motion, then holding his hand out to you. “May I have this dance, Mrs Moreno?”

“Gladly, Mr Moreno.” You smiled and rose, letting him lead you to the middle of the dancefloor. The band had been stuck playing an intro to your chosen song for several long moments now and launched into it one last time as you took your positions. Aerosmith – I don’t wanna miss a thing. Your song. Marcus took your hand, smiling softly, and when the vocalists started so did you, twirling around the dancefloor. You felt like you were floating, a moment of near perfect happiness.

“I love you so much.” You mouthed to Marcus as he led you across the dancefloor, his hand warm at your waist. He smiled, spun you out and then reeled you back in, closer this time to press a kiss to your temple.

“I love you.” The song ended and you paused for a moment to receive the applause from your guests. The band faded into another song and people started filling the floor around you while you swayed in place for a moment.

“You know, there’s only one thing missing.”

Marcus’s brow furrowed. “What’s that?”

You nodded towards the table where Missy was still sitting, chin in her hands and looking out towards the dancefloor, a picture both wistful and yet a little forlorn. You waved to get her attention, then motioned for her to join you two once that was accomplished. She started, her brow furrowing in the exact same adorable way as her father, then stood hesitantly.

“Come on, bunny!” You called, letting go of Marcus just enough to make space for her. Her whole face lit up and she came running over, long hair swooshing after her. She all but crashed into the two of you, throwing one arm around your waist and the other around Marcus.

“Wanna dance?” You smiled at her, drawing her as close as the volume of your skirt allowed for a little side hug.

“Yes!” She exclaimed, already starting to sway to the music. Marcus surreptitiously wiped at his eyes before hugging the both of you close. It took you all a moment to adjust your footing, but you managed it soon enough. This was truly, absolutely perfect. You could stay lost in this moment forever.

- - - 

author’s note: I started this whole thing over like five times, with different concepts and characters, and somehow landed on this. It turned more into bonding with Missy than the pairing, but hey. Hope you’ll still enjoy it. 

and yes, I named Miracle Guy Colin. He just looks like a Colin to me ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

[starbuckie]

𝐢𝐭'𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐚 𝐥𝐨𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐜𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐦𝐚𝐬

challenge: winter warmers writing challenge by @spaceodditybarnes

prompt: “it’s beginning to look a lot like christmas” by michael buble

pairing: bucky barnes x reader

words: 2k without lyrics, 2.1k with lyrics

warnings: i genuinely don’t think i can say anything besides FLUFF, oh wait theres some mentions of the shmexy sex (i promise im a functioning person)

summary: in which they take a little holiday stroll and talk about what they are.

a/n: THIS MADE ME VERY HAPPY THANK YOU FOR HOSTING THIS CHALLENGE JADE!!! i kinda veered off the idea of christmas with this one, but my mind created another idea and i kinda just went with the flow. anyways, i really enjoyed writing this one, and i hope you all had a lovely holiday season <3 LOTS OF LOVE Y’ALL

main masterlist || sebastian stan characters masterlist

It’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas

Everywhere you go

Take a look at the five and ten, it’s glistening once again

With candy cane and silver lanes that glow

Snow sprinkled to the buildings and sidewalks of Midtown Manhattan, making the traffic clog up to the oh so lovely sounds of taxis and cars honking. It was far from what people pictured it, really, New York was absolute hell during the holiday season. Sloshing boots and teens smoking pot outside the scantily decorated discount store that held very little, sad-looking Christmas lights.

It didn’t bother Bucky. No, he had never been a big fan of the holiday season. Even back in the forties, with his ma and little sisters, they had never been huge on celebrating Christmas, instead choosing to work those shifts during the holiday so they could make a buck or two more to hold them over. Now in the twenty-first century, the holiday just reminded him how truly lonely he was, everyone and everything he used to know long gone.

But then he found Y/N. Granted, it had not been a formal introduction. The poor girl had nearly damn run him over with her motorcycle for Christ’s sake, but nonetheless she crawled into his heart that cold December morning two years ago, and had not left ever since. 

Now she walked by his side at Rockefeller Center, her cold fingers intertwined with his warm ones, admiring the tree while he admired her. He already had every part of her memorized, from late night escapades in the sheets to studying the slope of her nose at team breakfasts. Even when he wasn’t with her, he was always looking at her, unable to pull his eyes away from Y/N’s radiance. 

This little… dalliance of theirs had only started a year back, and they had still yet to put a label on it. Sam had called it friends with benefits, Sharon called it being a couple without the name. Bucky had shut both of those ideas down, claiming that they were taking it slow and weren’t looking to call it anything yet they still had not really talked about it. Was it really worth ruining the bond he had with the girl he fell madly in love with? Whatever it was, they had never taken time out of their day to actually discuss what they meant to each other, but, God, he’d be a liar if he said he didn’t want to know.

“Bucky?” Her sweet voice brought him out of his thoughts, the glittering red and white lights of the Christmas tree reflecting in her eyes. “You seem kind of distracted right now, sweetheart, are you bored? We can head back to the compound if you like.”

He smiled at her worried tone, delicately kissing the tip of her nose. “‘M just thinking, doll, wanna stay as long as I can out here with you.”

The grin he received in return was breathtaking, her red-painted lips turned upwards and a little twinkle (literally and metaphorically) in her eyes. “Good.”

It’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas

Toys in every store

But the prettiest sight to see, is the holly that will be

On your own front door

“Oh, look at that helicopter, Buck! That’s so cool!” Y/N pointed at a little boy in the store controlling the airborne toy with a small remote. “They didn't have those when I was a kid, I just had my Tamagotchi.”

He scrunched his nose, staring at her with an emotion that could be described as nothing other than distaste. “What the hell is a Tamagotchi?”

“A Tamagotchi was like this little digital pet thing that you could take care of, mainly used for kids who were trying to prove to their parents that they could take care of a real pet. That’s why I had one at least, but I never did get a tabby cat like I wanted.” Y/N continued to ramble about her weird pet thing as they walked through the toy store, though Bucky didn’t really care. But he’d never stop her either. The way her eyes lit up in childlike wonder and her fascination with the toys on the shelves was too precious to destroy. This was the girl who he had seen slit throats and blow aliens’ brains out, and in the moment she was ogling an American Girl Doll like it was the last pancake at the breakfast table. 

Y/N finally convinced herself that she was done looking at the toys, claiming that she was too mature for such things (she really wasn’t), but he let her lead him out the door, before she halted right in the doorway. “What is it, honey?”

“Mistletoe.” He glanced up at the little sprig of green and red berries above their heads, hanging by a small strand of twine. A small group of kids with families stood around, watching them with both happy and annoyed faces. How could they not notice Y/N L/N and Bucky Barnes? Bucky’s vibranium arm may have been recognizable, but Y/N’s cheery, a little-louder-than-normal humming had caused a little group to watch them throughout the store. “I think they’re waiting for us to kiss, Buck.”

She leaned into him, placing her lips on his and placing her freezing hands on his cheekbones. Though Bucky had never been big on PDA, the rest of the world seemed to slip away when he was with her. He grinned into her lips, hugging her tightly around the waist so she squealed. When he forced herself away from her intoxicating mouth, she was sporting a bright smile and smudged lipstick that had rubbed off onto his. 

Giggling, she took her thumb and swiped off some of the red residue she had left. “You had a little something there, sweetheart.” 

A pair of hopalong boots and a pistol that shoots

Is the wish of Barney and Ben

Dolls that’ll talk and will go for a walk

Is the hope of Janice and Jen

Bucky watched Y/N point out all the different street cart vendors as they walked to Radio City Music Hall. She’d insisted that they go look at the window displays there as well, and who was he to argue? Strangely enough, they hadn’t talked much, other than the occasional “are you cold” from Bucky, to which Y/N assured him she was not. Her quiet voice sang the lyrics to Last Christmas when a little girl stopped in front of them, two auburn braids and green eyes boring straight into hers. 

The small child pulled on Y/N’s skirt, a silent plea to go down to her height. “Hi there, are you lost, sweetie?”

“I wanted to talk to you,” she looked back to an older woman, who gave her a thumbs up and a smile, “because you are my favorite superhero and I hope you have a very good Christmas.”

Y/N nearly melted at the toothless smile the girl, who she assumed was named Sadie by the necklace she wore. “Thank you so much, sweetheart. I hope you have a good Christmas too, and do you know this guy?” She dragged Bucky down next to her, the large, buff man hulking over the small girl. “This is my friend Bucky, do you know him?”

He eyed her warily, as if he were absolutely terrified of the tiny human. “You’re the Winter Soldier!”

Uh oh. The name was one that struck a chord of fear through everyone, still in shock of the events that had taken place in D.C. in 2014. While he and Sam had tried to label a new brand for the Avengers, people didn’t forget all the horrors of HYDRA and their prized assassin. Of course it hadn’t been him, even he knew that, but trying to convince people otherwise still made him feel guilty.

“You’re my second favorite Avenger, after Y/N, of course.” Sadie brought her hand to hover over Bucky’s vibranium one, her eyes wide with excitement. “Mr. Bucky, can I touch your metal arm?”

The man in question could barely utter out a word, muttering some sort of agreement before nodding with a timid smile. Giddily, she touched his arm, feeling all the cool ridges of gold-plated vibranium against the gun-grey metal. Sadie continued to pelt questions at him, about Sam and Redwing to his “adventures” with Y/N on the team.

Bucky, though shy at first, got more and more relaxed as they continued their conversation, his grin growing wider. Y/N loved her fans, she loved them so, so dearly, but seeing them interact with the man she loved was something different. Not a bad different, but a word that could only be described as pure joy. 

“Darling, I think we better leave Ms. L/N and Mr. Barnes alone. Say thank you and happy holidays.” The little girl looked sad, turning to look at her mom with a little pout, but she reluctantly obliged and soon the duo were off, into the crowded streets once again. 

“Y’know once upon a time I had dreamed about having kids,” Bucky commented. They walked along the sidewalks in a comfortable quiet after the encounter with Sadie, but Bucky’s mind had not stopped reeling from the happiness his conversation brought him. “Was gonna come home from the war, settle down with a gal, and live to be at least seventy years old.”

“Well, I can tell you you’re good on the last bit of that, Buck.” He snorted at her jab at his age, something that has become a norm for their little makeshift family of four. “What do you want now?”

He stopped in his tracks and looked over at her with a fond tilt of his lips. “Oh, just something real special.”

It’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas

Toys in every store

But the prettiest sight to see, is the holly that will be

On your own front door

“Y/N, what are we?” She glanced over at him from where they sat on the Met stairs, giving their feet a break from walking for hours. 

“What do you mean, Buck?”

He grabbed her hands and held them to his chest, trying to make her understand the amount of confusion and impatience he had with this one burdening question. “We’ve been sleeping together for a year, Y/N. We make each other breakfast, we go out together, I literally have half of my closet dedicated to your stuff, but even after all that we haven’t given us a name yet.”

Y/N sat in stunned silence, staring at the outburst from the man in front of her. To be completely honest she had never really thought about the question, choosing to enjoy each second she got to spend with the wonderful man with her. What she had noticed however, was how whenever they parted ways or were in the most intimate of moments, three little words nearly slipped off of her tongue. Every. Single. Time.

“Well, what do you want to be, Bucky?”

“I want to be the man you love. I want to be the man who loves you with his entire heart, though I like to think I already am. I want you to be my best gal more than anything in the world, and that I want to be the man who gets to hold and love you every night.” Slowly they drifted to each other, a magnetic pull bringing them to each other. “What do you think, doll?”

“I think,” her lips split into a grin, hovering over his own with the exact same expression, “that I want to be your best girl and the one who gets to make you pancakes in the morning and I want to be the one you get a cat with, who we’ll name Alpine because if I know you, names are the most important part of having a pet. I want to be held and loved by you every night, Bucky Barnes, and I am the girl who loves you more than anything in this entire damn world.”

Not another second to spare, Bucky pulled Y/N in close, letting himself get lost in one of her sweet, loving kisses, finally knowing that he was hers and she was his. At long last.

Sure, it’s Christmas once more

[oohnoniall]

The Lantsov Emerald [Kaz Brekker x OC] - Chapter Two (Kaz)

Warnings: cursing

Chapter One

        He never made mistakes. Never went into a situation that he wasn't fully aware of. Yet, somehow, he had managed to fuck this up before it had even begun. Inej would never let him hear the end of it should she find out. He didn't plan to have anyone ever find out that he had messed this up.

        How in the hell was he supposed to have researched the royal family's voices? He hadn't thought they'd come in any sort of contact with any of them. Everyone knew the youngest son had been shipped out, running from the rumors of being a bastard. Not much was known about the princess beyond her golden hair and the engagement. The engagement that no one thought would work. 

        It was lucky that Kaz had known that much.

        She hadn't seemed upset about his mistake. It would probably not stand out in her mind for long. Or perhaps it would. The second this job was over, she would know exactly who had done it. Well, she would know a false name and a false accent. He had never been an actor, had never thought of it. But he had put on an accent that held no trace of Ketterdam, the city had morphed him all those years ago and hadn't released its hold since.

        Well, Pekka hadn't.

        He scowled to himself for thinking about any of this. It was not the time nor the place to worry about this. If he worried about nearly getting caught for a split-second delay, he would never get through the rest of the plan.

        Kaz schooled his face into neutrality, not quite calm but not quite any other emotion. A perfect mask to wear in order to blend into his surroundings and the people that wanted to be seen. The people who cared nothing for the second army but for the king and his approval.

        Saints it was annoying to be around these types of people. They were worse than the lowlife thugs he had made into his weapons. These people knew that their money, their influence allowed them power over people. A power that did not get punished.

        He didn't care about them, didn't care that they ruined everything for the people who had not been born into that privilege. His focus was on something else entirely. Making damn sure every rat in the Barrel knew just who he was and just what he was going to do to all of them.

        He walked into two men, causing one to spill wine on him.

        "What the hell do you think you're doing?" The one who had spilled his wine yelled at him. His eyes were bloodshot, enough to let Kaz know that he had already helped himself to several cups. Just as he had hoped.

        "My apologies," Kaz allowed his face to burn, hating every second when he acted like a fool. "I was just-"

        "Just acting a fool." The other stated with a slight smirk. 

        "You can't be here in that," the first told him with a snarl. "Go down to the laundry and get a fresh uniform." He motioned to a corridor just to the left, which would lead down to the barracks and just where he needed to be. 

        Kaz nodded quickly, turning on his heel and marching down the corridor as though he were an embarrassed soldier. Besides running into the princess, it seemed as though everything were going according to plan.

        Just as it always did.

        Kaz Brekker had made a living on making plans, on being one step ahead of everyone and everything. He would not be caught unawares by anything. Not if he could help it. He would have to get smarter while he was in this damned palace. While there were unknown variables.

        Normally the unknown did not bother him. But that princess had left him unnerved. What in the hell had she meant when she had said she'd see him on the training field? That didn't sit right with him.

        Why would a princess be around a training field? Or guards besides the obvious reasons? Yet, she seemed shocked that she hadn't known him. That could lead to danger. Perhaps he would have to find her again, lie again. Although that also seemed to be a mistake.

        Focus, he heard Jordie's voice in his head, in the depths of his very soul. Don't worry about her, worry about the job.

        He didn't know if it was what his brother would have actually said. Part of him knew there would have been laughter, teasing. His brother would have been so glad that Kaz had gotten spooked by something, something that was not a magic trick or a mechanical dog. That or he would be told off for thinking about anything other than their business, that daydreaming had gotten them into enough trouble.

        Trouble always seemed to follow Kaz Brekker. A dark cloud hanging over an even darker boy.

        He shoved his thoughts, his hopes, and his fears as far down as he possibly could. Past the knots in his stomach and the thought that they wouldn't get away with this. That they would never get away with this. He shoved that down as he stepped into the laundry room.

        It was empty. Everyone at the winter fete or taking the opportunity to just go off and do whatever they pleased for once. Everywhere was like the Barrel if one looked hard enough. People just seemed more inclined to wait until dark in places that were not Ketterdam.

        He grabbed two more sets of uniforms, one that would be big enough for Inej and another for the Conductor. He knew that Jesper would be well on his way to getting their ride out of there.

        At least he hoped so. Jesper had a tendency to do whatever he wished. There was nothing reliable about him. Nothing that they could do to keep him from being reckless, to keep him from doing anything to still his hands.

        It was enough to make Kaz sick to his stomach. And yet, there was no better shot in Kerch. Perhaps not in any of the known lands. For that reason alone, he could not be allowed to leave Kaz's side. Even if he could be the most annoying person that he had ever had the pleasure, or displeasure at times, of meeting.

        He tried not to think of this, instead focusing on keeping himself silent. It wasn't as hard as one would assume. He'd always had a way of stepping quietly, even in his boots. He knew the value of being silent.         

        Even if he'd never be as good as his wraith.

        As he headed back up the steps, he found himself missing his cane. It was a luxury that he sometimes could not afford to have. He hated that he had any sort of weakness. It was something that others could use against him. He had once worried how he would spin it to his advantage. He had worried for about thirty seconds before realizing what a good mask it was. No one expected much from the boy with a cane.

        It had helped him rise so quickly. Helped him gain the title of Dirty Hands. It was better that way. To be feared. No one would ever be able to take that away from him.

        Unless he kept making these stupid mistakes.

        "Is it my size?" Inej whispered to him as she slipped over to his hiding spot, quiet as the wraith she had been named for.

        "Of course it's your size," he stated as he shoved the uniform into her hands. "I know your size. I wouldn't make that mistake."

        "I can't be sure of that. Not after last time," her eyes sparkled with mirth as she spoke. He had to try very hard not to roll his eyes.

        "Yes, well," he grumbled once before she was off without another word. He didn't want to know just how she did that. Sneaking up on him once had been enough for him.

        Kaz didn't like to be taken by surprise. He didn't like it when people got the best of him. It reminded him too much of Jordie, of what Pekka had done to the two of them. He had no chance in hell to keep himself sane if those memories kept resurfacing. Even if they did fuel the rage that burned inside of his heart.

        That rage kept him alive, kept him building and building his empire. He would run the Barrel. He'd run Ketterdam. It was only a matter of time. Then he would take his revenge and make Pekka Rollins regret the day he had ever crossed him. The day he had taken Jordie.

        He shoved it down, shoved that fire as far down as he possibly could as he handed off the other uniform. He didn't care about what the Conductor wanted during all this. He already knew that the man could not be trusted. It was a good thing that he didn't trust anybody.

        Not even the Crows that he had brought with him. Anyone could be bought, anyone could be holding secrets.

        He certainly was.

        Kaz headed back up the steps, the warm light washing over his features and causing them to appear less striking. His cheekbones were not as sharp in this lighting, softer and more innocent. It was almost humorous how much a simple light could turn him from a monster into who he truly was.

        A seventeen-year-old boy who had lost all his hope.

        He did not contemplate the ways the light lit his face as he moved to blend in with the other guards. He hung back, in a long hallway where people were milling about and laughing over stupid jokes as they watched either the Grisha or the few couples that had braved the dance floor.

        She was on the dance floor, her arm draped around a man who looked a few years older than her. The coloring of his hair and the way he was murmuring words that made her nose scrunch almost imperceptibly made it obvious who he was. His theory was only proven once they turned. The medals pinned to his chest and the nose that matched hers were stronger hints to who he was.

        Crown Prince Vasily Lantsov.

        He was far too close to Kaz for any sort of comfort but he couldn't leave. He was supposed to be a guard. Someone who was supposed to keep the royal family safe. If he dared turn his back on the two in his eyesight, it would have looked rather strange.

        But that didn't mean he couldn't spy on them. Maybe there would be something of use in their dance floor conversations.

        Slowly, he made his way just outside of the doorway. He would have gone in had Inej not been lingering on the other side. Presumably listening as well, or just waiting to see the woman who had been proclaimed a miracle.

        He didn't understand how she could believe in her Saints. How she could believe that anyone had ever cared about them. They had been dealt a hand that was beyond anything one of the Saints could have salvaged. It was a wonder they had managed to live this long. Yet, she still believed. He heard her whisper prayers as she touched her knives, each named for one of the Saints. He didn't say anything. As long as she did what she needed to.

        "Really, Annie," the nickname suited her although it was obvious by the very slight twitch of her left eyebrow that she didn't enjoy it. "I gave you clear instructions."

        "I wanted to dance," he could barely hear her words, spoken so softly that they floated in the rosemary-scented air. "Nikki wouldn't have minded."

        "Nikolai," the venom in his voice could not be hidden by the soft tone, "wasn't instructed to watch over you."

        "No, he did it because he wished to."

        "Annie, please," his eyes had softened. Kaz wondered how often they had this conversation. There was tension among the royal family. Tension that seemed no one in the world could see. They weren't watching close enough.

        "Don't patronize me, Vassy," she looked him in the eyes. Something that he doubted many did to the would-be-king. It was something that he did not think many could get away from it. "I'm a grown woman. I can take care of myself."

        "You shouldn't be able to. Nikolai never should have allowed you to learn any of it."

        "It is not his fault." The way she spoke cemented the idea in Kaz's mind that Nikolai Lantsov was the greatest of the three siblings. A sister would not look at her eldest brother with fire in her eyes otherwise. Unless they had a very different relationship than he was used to.

        "Fjerda will not allow you to do this, you know?" Vasily kept his expression neutral but Kaz could see the exhaustion in his eyes.

        "No, but at least I will be able to protect myself." The fire had dwindled, replaced by something else. Something that was not quite fear but not quite anything else either. It was wrong. It wasn't something that he expected to see during a royal celebration. Not something that he ever expected to see in a royal's eyes.

        The dance ended, Anastasia giving her brother a respectful curtsey before she made her way to the dais. Her head was held high, he could see small, sparkling gemstones in her braids. She walked with purpose, knowing her way in the world like she had never once questioned it. Like she had never worried a day in her life about a damn thing.

        The hushed conversation was the only proof that something was hidden there. Something that he would never in his life find out. He did not know how he felt about that.

        The not knowing was worrisome for Kaz. He had no reason to care about it. But it was information. Information that he could potentially use for some reason or another. Information that could lead to him running Ketterdam, to crushing Pekka Rollins. Even if he was unsure how that was possible. 

        He tried to push this from his mind, tried to keep from worrying about anything other than Alina Starkov. They had a job to do. One that would risk losing Inej, losing the Crow Club, losing everything that had ever mattered to him. He wouldn't let the Barrel ruin him. He had made that mistake once already.

        He tried not to think of the princess. But even he could not stop noticing how she walked to her mother's side. It was as though gravity held no hold on her. She walked and danced as though her feet floated in the air. How would she compare to the Wraith if given the right tools?

        No one would ever live up to Inej or her standard. He had no need on anyone else who walked on the air, especially not someone who could not blend into a crowd.

        Besides, it wasn't like he could entice a princess to join his crew. Nor would he want to. These thoughts were just his mind's way of refocusing, of getting ready for the mayhem that was more than likely going to start sooner or later. Not even one of his plans could go perfectly. Although, he did have a better track record than most.

        The doors opened, the Darkling finally gracing them with his presence. A smile graced the man's features, causing a pit of unease to grow in Kaz's stomach. There was something about that smile that told a story he did not quite like. Ruthless betrayal lived within the Darkling. He would have never seen the signs had it not lived within him as well.

        "Moi tsar," the Darkling bowed before the king. He nodded his head once to the other members of the royal family, his eyes going to Vasily more than once. 

        The king nodded to his great general, a look of pride in his eyes. A man with power and no clue what was happening in his country. It was a wonder that anything ever got done in Ravka.

        "Ladies and gentlemen," the Darkling turned then to the crowd, that same smile on his face. "Too long has the Fold separated us from our brothers on the west. Too long have we lived in fear because of it."

        The crowd murmured their assent as he motioned to the doorway to Kaz's left. A woman stepped through it. With dark hair and an almost shy smile, Alina Starkov did not seem to be anything remarkable. 

        Draped in a black and gold kefta, she painted the picture of a glorious summoner. One who could rival the royal women on the dais. She stepped to her own small stage, Kaz noticed how the Darkling helped her step upon it. 

        They had not counted on how close the Darkling and his newest treasure would have become. He should have thought of that. There had been so much revealed in that one touch that he worried he would have to fight the whole Second Army to get to Alina. It was not something he looked forward to.

        "Alina Starkov," The Darkling spoke as his shadows took over the room. 

        The hair on the back of his neck stood up. His fingers itched for his cane. The steady weight of it would keep him steady, keep him from wanting to run in terror as the darkness surrounded him. He had never been afraid of the dark. But this was unnatural. It felt similar to something but he could not figure out what. That alone made him wonder about what in the hell this General Kirigin was hiding.

        "Lead us out of the darkness," his voice was everywhere and yet nowhere at the same time. He could hear Inej whispering prayers to the Saints under her breath.

        A bright light shone from Alina Starkov. The Sun Summoner brought a ball of light into the middle of the room, lighting them all in washes of what looked and felt like bright sunshine. The shadows fled from it, scurrying on back to their master.

        He didn't buy it for a second. He was certain there was a trick that he just could not see. Kaz had a hard time believing in Saints. He had a harder time believing in miracles. This woman couldn't be one of them. She couldn't be anything more than a lie. All of them were. Every single person in that room was nothing more than a lie.

        Still, as the rest of the room began to fall to their knees and mutter the words 'Sankta Alina', Kaz found himself bending his knee and murmuring along with them. If only to keep up appearances.

        He chanced a glance toward the royal family. The king and queen remained in their thrones but their children had both fallen to their knees. The princess seemed to be glowing in the Sun Summoner's light, her eyes bright with fervor for the Saint that would reunite their country. 

        It seemed as though even the royal family believed in false idols.

        A cruel smile lit the Darkling's face as his shadows retreated. The smile of a man who had won. Kaz had seen it on several members of the Merchant Council, on several gang leaders in the Barrel. He had worn that smile himself. But seeing it in this room ... It meant something bigger than anything he could ever dream of was coming. He only hoped he and his Crows would be out of there before the real trouble came calling.

        He watched as the general led his weapon off of the dais and out of the room. Inej gave him an imperceptible nod, the two beginning to trail him with two other guards. The ones they were replacing had been easy enough to knock out and replace. Ravka needed better trained guards, better trained people. It was no wonder the country was falling apart at the seams.

        The plan had been to follow them as far as Alina's private chambers. But this was not the case. A man was brought past them, one that caught Alina's eye. Her brow furrowed and the Darkling had the others hurry her along while he went after the man. Kaz would have continued to follow after the Sun Summoner, but Kirigin had nodded his head towards him.

        Fuck.

        He motioned with his left hand for Inej to stick to the plan. He kept his spine straight as he followed the general, trying to ignore the hammering in his chest. There was nothing he could do but hope and pray that this went well. He didn't know who to pray to but he would.

        He stood far enough back that he could not hear what was said between the Darkling and the man who was being held by the shoulder. He could, however, tell it was nothing good. Nothing that would bring peace. 

        "Take him. Don't let her see," his voice was velvety soft as he spoke, sending a warning straight through Kaz. He knew not to trust silk and honey.

        "Of course," the other guard said. 

        Kaz waited as long as he possibly could before he broke off without suspicion. He headed towards the meeting point, knowing that Inej would have grabbed the girl if she could. However, as he began to rush an alarm sounded from somewhere.

        They had been caught.

[luvutomoonandtosaturn]

Child of Blood and Salt - Chapter 3

It would be fair to say that a coughing Inej, a murdersus and bloodied Kaz, and a strange dark haired girl who looked like she’d been through the ringer to be the burglar that would have broken into the Van Eck Mansion. Jesper glazed quickly at his boyfriend beside him to make sure he wasn’t going crazy and that the two deadliest people in Ketterdam and some random pirate chick just hadn’t broken into their house. “Ya,” Anya said passing Kaz while dusting herself off already making herself at home in the mansion, “You definitely missed me.” It was Wylan who spoke next, now giving Anya a curious look. “Saints Kaz! What-” “Sorry to barge in,” Kaz cut off now giving Anya a deadly stare that if Jesper had received would of sent him running to the hills , “but we needed a safe place to hide out.” “From what!” Jesper said, now looking over their bloodied and bruised bodies. “Sandwatch,” Kaz said, giving a look to Anya and leading the group to the main sitting room.” Jeseper and Wylan were left in a state of utter astonishment, and caught up just in time. “You know what, call me crazy, but haven’t we all been here before. I thought I had settled into a life of ease and comfort!” Jesper explained. “Ya,” Kaz said, now making himself comfortable and shooting Anya a pointed look, “I did too. But I’d really love to hear your excuse you promised me” “Who is this?” Jesper mouthed to Inej who shook her head just as easily confused. “Come on!” Anya explained to Kaz, who both now seemed to forget there were three other people in the room in the heat of their argument. “I think we're overdue for a family reunion,” Kaz scoffed. That's when Inej noticed. The dark hair, the same chocolate brown eyes. She would kick herself for not noticing it sooner because now it was so obvious. Even their noses looked the same. They were related. “I’m in a bit of a situation,” Anya starts. “An understatement.” “Kaz, please,” “No, no, because this is what you do An, you show up at unexpected moments and rain down hell wherever you go. And who's there to fix your mistakes? Me. ” Kaz exploded jumping out of his chair. “And what- what happened to you sailing around the world. Aren't you supposed to be pirating around on Sturmhond's boat right now? Whatever happened to that? And what about that house in Nova Zem?” Kaz looked accelerated, Jesper and Inej had never seen him worked up like this before. The room was dead silent as Wylan, Jesper, and Inej silently waited on the edge of their seats to see how the story played out. The housekeeper was now bringing out more kavs and glasses which Jesper accepted happily.

“Kaz” Anya said, now losing her humorous energy, “I’m one of Sturmods most trusted crew members.” She explained looking Kaz in the eyes. “I know.” Kaz didn't let his surprise show but said “and how does this change anything?” Anya opened her mouth to say something but words to tell Kaz all the things that she was hiding could't find her.

“Okay!” Jesper finally exploded, “I’m sorry Kaz, but can someone please explain what in saints name is going on here!” Kaz and Anya were finally broken out of their transe of anger and stared at Jesper as if they just realized they all were there. She sighed. “You're Jesper, the sharpshooter, right?” Anya gestured to him, to which he gave a nod. “So that means you must be...Wylan,” Anya continued, “And of course you’re Inej.” She finally turned to Inej who could now clearly see that resemblance between Kaz and Anya in the better lighting of the Van Eck Mansion. “And you are Kaz’s sister,” Inej said with confidence. Jesper spit out his Kavs with a loud unpleasant sound and Wylan's eyes widened in shock. Anya stood still, not denying the accusation. “Wylan, please tell me I’m dreaming, this is all a dream. There is not a female verson of Kaz Brekker in our living room. ” Jesper said turning to Wylan who rolled his eyes and turned to Kaz, “Kaz, I never knew.” “Yes, well that wasthe point wasn’t it.” Kaz said with an annoyed glance at Anya, who rolled her eyes. “But, you’re Grisha,” Inej said with confused glances between the siblings, “aren't you?” Anya opened her mouth to respond but Kaz got there faster. “She was tested when we were children,” Kaz explained, “Before our parents died. You were to be brought to the Little Place but our parents struck a deal with an orphanage in Nova Zem, a place where Grisha children could live in peace, outside the second army. It's wear she grew up .” Kaz sat down again now knowing he couldn't keep his secret sister from his crows any longer. “We met years ago, and Anya had gotten a position of Sturmhond's crew. We had other meetings throughout the years, it’s where I went those two weeks last year.” It was all making sense to the crows now, but Anya’s head was down listening to Kaz tell her story. “That's where I thought you were,” Kaz said, turning to his sister, “Look, Anya I have enough on my plate as it is. I'm sure you have more than enough resources to fix whatever problem Sturmhold - Nikolai - has gotten himself into.” Anya finally looked up at her brother, cane in hand, sitting in front of her in a big leather chair. Inej was standing by his side, a look of concern on her beautiful features. Wylan was looking like he was in a state of shock sitting next to Jesper who was looking at Kaz like he was dressed in rainbow colors and juggling baby tigers. Anya knew then that if she was going to get her brother's help she needed to come clean, about everything. “I’ve never been Novia Zem, Kaz” She said after a long moment of silence. Kaz’s head shut up quickly. “No,” He reasoned, “after you were tested-” “No Kaz. There is no secret magical place where Grisha children can be who they are outside of the second army. It’s fiction.” There were no tears in her eyes but her face displayed a look of trauma as she recounted her story. “There was a slaver in town, he offered our parents a lot of money if they would give me up. You know we were poor, we were really poor, and besides they were always terrified of my power, I displayed it so young. So, they took me, but the slaver he wasn’t, well he wasn’t really a slaver was he. Markin Yaroslavovich.” “Wait,” Jesper piped in, “I’ve heard that name before. Something about a raid on his estate in The Wandering Isle, but that's all." “Most people don’t know him, always kept under the radar.” Anya said and she gave a harsh dark laugh suddenly changing from her humorous demeanor. “He called himself a “collector” of Grisha. He was maniacally obsessed with our power and collected corporalki, like myself, and Etherealki and Materialki from all around the world. It was his life mission to create his own army, outside Ravka. That’s where I grew up, in a dark palace along with thirty other helpless Grisha. You think the conditions of the Little Palace training was bad, this was- it was hell. He experimented on us, controlled us, wanted something like Judra Palm to make us, him, more powerful. More than half of us died. Luckily he wasn’t able to get his hands

on it the judra parlm tho. Then finally when the second army got wind of what was going on they sent a rescue mission. Only three of us survived the escape, me, a squaller, and one durast. When we got to Ravka, they said we could go to the Southern Colonies and the squaller and durast did, but I- I don’t know I couldn't go to the colonies and not use my power, it was all I’ve ever known. So, I stayed.” Anya finally met Kaz’s eyes who she’d been avoiding though her own speech. “I’ve one of the best Heartrenders in the second army Kaz. I used my full name and now I’m training new Grisha in the second army. But, I am on Sturmonds crew, Nikolai does need some grisha backup every once and while.” Kaz didn't yell or glare at his sister, but listened carfully just if she was reading him a bedtime story. “Why didn’t you tell me?” Kaz said now speaking, “How did I- how did I not know” “You're used to knowing everything about everything Kaz, but Yaroslavovich was an expert of not being noticed and the whole mission was covered up by the second army, but I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. When I first met you I was traveling with Sturmhond and I just didn't, I couldn't relive it then.” “I don’t blame you for anything, Anastasia.” Anya smiled at this. “But that doesn’t explain-” “Why I’ve shown up unexpectedly with people trying to kill me, yes I know. Can Van Eck and the Sharpshooter be trusted?” “Debatable, but we’ll probably need them for whatever scheme you're planning.” Anya cocked her head in agreement. “Nikolai’s been taken.” At that Jesper spit up, yet again, his drink. “Who-” Inej cut in. “His brother Vasily, he’s always been jealous of him, but most importantly he wants the crown and he’ll do anything to do it and that means killing his brother. Nikolai, as Sturmond, was on one last recon mission before returning to Ravka, and he was ambushed. Vasily, is playing it off as a tragic accident and the whole palace and army is with him. Only me and a couple other Grisha, Zoya, Nadia Genya,a durast named David, and heartrender twins Tamar and Toyla know the truth. I left a days ago, and they are probably already questioning everyone. It’s hell at the palace now, Vasily has got everyone in a tight grasp and he's not letting go.” Kaz nodded his head, the life changing information unfazed his cold features. “How do you know that he’s not already dead? I mean why not just assassinate him and finish the job why kidnap him?” “They need him. He’s the only one who knows the secret plans for the peace treaty with Fjerda I don't even know them. They can’t risk killing him without that information, but they’ll do a lot to get it out of him. David’s narrioided down his location somewhere in Novyi Zem,” “That’s a pretty big peraminter.” Wylan piped in now sitting up in his chair. “I know, but I have several contacts there so I think I can narrow it down a bit when we get there, if you are still in.” “And what exactly would be our role in your little king rescue mission.” “I have none of Ravka’s resources with me, plus we will probably be breaking into a heavily guarded place, isn’t that your guys' thing.” “Know that does sound like fun.” Jesper said “There’s also the added benefit that you’ll be saving the entirety of Ravka from a Vasily rain. So what do you say, big brother, wanna rescue a king?”

[prettywordsyouleft]

Christmas Foresight | Christmas in July collab

Pairing: Ji Changmin x reader

Genre: Christmas au / friends to lovers / angst-fluff

Warnings: divorce / cheating / a toxic relationship / past and present elements / a bit of a Ghost of Christmas Past type of story really.

A/N: Here’s the second story in our Christmas In July mini-collab! I actually had this idea without Christmas involved but I thought it would make for a good story for this collab and I’m really happy with trying something other than cutesy candy cane Christmas au stuff! I hope you can enjoy!

Word count: 4123

Other story in this collab: Favourite Christmas

You didn’t understand how the tears could still fall after all this time. Arguing was something you and your husband had down to a fine art now. You rarely smiled anymore and had taken to sleeping apart within the past year.

Still, no matter how accustomed you were to your failing marriage, you would find yourself at the mercy of your emotions, crying for the youth that was slowly fading away, the world in which you had believed the love you and Zac had would last forever.

Jaded at thirty-five wasn’t how you envisioned your story to go instead.

Wiping back your tears quickly when you heard the door behind you open and click close, you spun to see your best friend now examining your evidently tear-stained face. Changmin’s gaze hardened. “Again? But it’s Christmas!”

“I’m fine,” you assured, reaching out to pat his forearm gently. He was unconvinced. “Honestly, Min, I’m just overly sensitive these days. The Christmas season is stressful to navigate.”

“You always have covered for him, you know.”

“Is the party still going well?” you asked instead of replying to his statement, not sure what would ease the pain within his eyes right now. You had known him just as long as your husband and there were often moments in your life where you wondered if you had chosen the wrong friend in the end. Changmin was warm, supportive and present in your life, unlike your husband. He had always been that person for you, you realised.

Still, there was no way to go back to your past and change the path you had been set upon. You had once loved the man you took a vow with. Although you couldn’t remember what that love truly felt like, you knew it once existed.

Changmin pulled you into his arms, holding you firmly. “Y/N, I wish this Christmas you get the present of foresight. You can’t keep going on in this world pretending the future ahead is bright at his side.”

“I know, I know,” you whispered, clinging to him and closing your eyes.

If only you could turn back time.

The Christmas party ended late into the night and Zac had already taken himself to bed, leaving you and the remnants of the night strewn all over your living area. Grumbling to yourself, you shook out an empty trash bag and began bagging up the rubbish, making your way around the place cleaning everything up, albeit, not without complaining along the way.

“Throws a party and leaves me to the aftermath, typical.”

“Does he only see me as a housewife? Just because he has an office view and colleagues who answer to him doesn’t mean I have to as well.”

“Why am I even cleaning this? It’s not up to me to do it all!”

Still, you didn’t stop until the living room and kitchen looked presentable, exhaustively collapsing upon your bed in the spare room, staring up at the ceiling. “I won’t even wash my makeup off. No point changing either. I have no energy left to care,” you told the room, groaning a moment later when you sat up and fiddled with the uncomfortable zip running along your back. You changed into your pyjamas and went into the ensuite bathroom to take care of your skin and brush your teeth. Padding back into your room, you sat down on the side of your bed and laughed hollowly. “Changmin’s right, all I do is obediently follow that man around and clean up behind him. I wish I was bolder. I can’t even follow through with what I said just before.”

Looking down at your pyjamas, you sighed and then caught sight of the photo frame on the bedside table, reaching out for it and smiling fondly. The young girl in the photo was bright and beautiful, her smile genuine and carefree. She had the world at her feet and felt she could step into any path she wanted to. Beside her was Changmin, boyishly handsome and overcrowding her space. Zac was staring at the girl in the middle charmingly, and you wondered whether he saw her as his world back then.

Life sure had changed since this photo.

“I wish to go back to this moment in life and re-evaluate my decisions,” you proclaimed, laying down holding the photo frame to your chest. “That sure would be a Christmas miracle.”

Closing your eyes, you prayed the dream world waiting for you would be brighter than reality was.

“Changmin!” you cried, holding up your arms in defence to the boy shaking his hair into your face. “Stop it, you’re so annoying!”

“You said you would stop studying twenty minutes ago.”

“Well, I figured if I got this last chapter done, I’d have more time to waste with you.”

“Waste?” he echoed, slinging his arms over your shoulders so he could snap the textbook shut. He ignored your whine. “Time spent with me is not a waste.”

“It is if it’s just with you,” another voice mentioned and you smiled brightly at the newcomer, bouncing away from the table you had been studying upon and hugging Zac happily. He kissed the side of your head and grinned at Changmin. “You need me around to make Y/N smile this much.”

“Right, of course we do,” Changmin mentioned and slung his bag over his shoulder. “We’re going to see a Christmas movie and-”

“How about the arcade instead?” Zac suggested and you cooed with anticipation.

“That sounds like fun! Let’s do a movie another time, Changmin?!”

“Sure, not like we made plans or anything,” he mumbled and you stopped, taking in his disappointment for the first time. It felt different to stop for a moment, soaking in your best friend’s deflation. Why had you not seen this side to him before? Surely this wasn’t the first time you deflected from the original plans you two had made without Zac present.

You smiled weakly up at Zac and stepped out of his embrace. “Actually, can we do the movie?”

“But the arcade-”

“I made plans to see this movie with Changmin first. You should totally come and watch it with us, Zac.”

“I’ll just ask Benji to meet me at the arcade. Christmas movies are so childish. Catch you both later,” Zac replied bitterly, glaring at Changmin before heading off in the other direction.

Changmin stepped over to you. “He’s mad.”

“Yeah well, he’s not the only person in my life that I adore. You and I made plans first.”

“You normally choose his ideas though,” Changmin continued and you looked at him with confusion. He looked uneasy, frowning with his thoughts. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m grateful we’re going to see the movie still.”

“Well, I’m just going to have to make sure I choose you more often then. After all, you did help me study whilst he played ball in the gym all day.”

“Plus, Christmas movies…”

“…are not childish, they are the best!” you completed and nudged him playfully, slinging your hand through the nook of his elbow. “Can we get hot cocoa afterwards?”

“That’s a given.”

“This is why you’re my best friend, you really get me.”

“Yeah, I guess I do.”

You went about your day in a daze, thinking about the dream you had the night before. It had to be because I held the photo until I fell asleep, you tried to conclude, however it nagged at you the longer you thought about it. The moment felt real, as if it actually happened. By mid-afternoon, you fished your phone out of your pocket and pressed call on Changmin’s number.

“Everything alright?”

“Since when do you answer a call like that?”

Changmin chuckled softly. “Since you tend to only ring me if something is bothering you.”

“Really? I don’t just ring you to chat?” you wondered, the same guilt from the dream washing over you. “I need to change that.”

“Do you?”

“Mm. However, you are right.”

“Of course I am. So, what’s bothering you?”

“I…” You felt silly now that you were trying to express what happened. Even as a grown woman, your cheeks felt a little hot admitting this to your best friend. “I dreamt of you.”

For a moment, the line was quiet and then you heard him let out a little breath. “I hope I remained clothed throughout it.”

“Not one of those dreams!” you chortled as Changmin laughed heartily into your ear. Huffing, you sat down on your couch and pulled the throw pillow into your lap. “When we were in school, did I shoot down your suggestions for Zac’s?”

The laughter stopped immediately. Changmin sighed and hummed in answer. “More than you should have.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, one year you even turned down seeing a Chris-”

“-Christmas movie with you and went to the arcade instead,” you completed with your eyes now round with astonishment.

“You remember.”

“No, it’s what I dreamed. Except, I chose the movie over the arcade.”

“If only. I ended up going by myself and then you asked me to come see it three days later. Which I did, and never told you I’d seen it.”

You thought back to the returning memory and gasped. “You seemed to know when to anticipate me reacting to it! You sneak.”

“Is it really sneaky?” Changmin wondered with a sigh. “Funny how dream you did what I hoped you would in real life.”

“Yeah,” you agreed softly, biting your bottom lip to hold back your rising emotions. “I wish I was more like dream me.”

“You… do?”

“Yeah, I mean, you’re my best friend, Changmin. I shouldn’t have thrown you aside for Zac so needlessly.”

“Needlessly,” a voice repeated, though not over the phone. You turned to see your husband loosening off his tie and throwing it down on the kitchen counter. He nodded a couple of times. “Maybe you should have spent more time with Changmin, after all. We might have gotten sick of each other earlier than now.”

“I’m going to go,” you quickly told Changmin and hung up the call, shooting Zac an exasperated glare. He merely sighed.

“Darling wife, the dishes aren’t done. Shouldn’t you talk less to your buddy and focus more on the reason I let you stay home?”

“What? I work from home.”

“I should come back to a clean place then,” Zac announced, throwing his dress shirt outside the laundry door. “I bet the laundry needs folding too.”

“You’re impossible, you know that?!”

“And you’re not what I was expecting to have every day either, but here we are.”

Picking up his shirt and wringing it in your hands, you wished for something more than this.

“We fought, again!” you exclaimed as you walked through Changmin’s dorm room door and slumped down on his bed. He turned to look at you and then back at the computer game he was playing, letting out a sigh and exiting it before coming over to your side.

“What about this time?”

“I don’t know, I can’t keep up with Zac and his multitude of opinions anymore.”

“Ah,” Changmin replied softly and you waited for his usual soothing cuddles that he always gave you when you came in like this. You were never calm unless you were buried deeply in his arms.

However, no comfort was offered.

“Y/N, you know I think you and Zac need to have a talk.”

“I’d rather not talk to him right now.”

Changmin nodded lightly. “Still, you need to.”

“Why?” Sitting straight, you stared at Changmin’s unreadable expression. “Do you know something I don’t? Is he cheat-”

“No it’s nothing like that but if you want my honest opinion, you both fight all the time and it’s kind of toxic. I don’t understand your love for each other and you’re always over here seeking out my comfort no matter what I’m in the middle of.”

You could see how anxious your best friend was about speaking his mind right now. Still, you went on the defensive, jumping up from the bed as if it had bitten you. “I’m sorry for intruding.”

“You’re worth so much more than you let yourself have, Y/N. I’m sick of watching this guy slowly break your spirit and molding you into who he wants in a partner,” Changmin confessed, sighing heavily. “I’m sorry I can’t keep comforting you when I’m the one who’s losing my best friend. It’s all one-sided and I hope you can figure out what means the most to you. When you do that, I’ll be here. For whatever your decision is.”

You didn’t answer, instead dashed out of the door you had just entered, running blindly down the three flights of stairs and back to your room before you crouched down and rocked through your emotions.

What just happened? Changmin had never spoken out like this to you over Zac before. You had been able to sense his displeasure at times but he normally always held it in, swallowing it down as he patted your back. Had you really not considered his feelings in all of this?

Just what exactly were Changmin’s feelings?

The tears stopped running and you sat there for some time, numb from the different emotions that had overwhelmed you. Eventually, you pulled out your phone and typed a message to Changmin.

You’re right. I do deserve better. Thank you for telling me the truth tonight. I’m sorry for putting you in the middle every time.

Nodding after the message was sent, you got back to your feet. You wouldn’t allow yourself to continue to crumble before Zac, or anyone for that matter.

“You dreamt of me another time?” You nodded as Changmin placed down the coffee cup he had been lifting to his lips. He pouted. “How come I’m not getting to dream too?”

“Maybe because you’re not the hopeless one in this situation,” you replied with a soft laugh that Changmin didn’t return. Instead, he stared at you until it became unnerving. “What are you thinking?”

“It’s weird, isn’t it? These dreams you’re having are what I had hoped would happen back then. I was too gutless to tell you how I felt back then.”

“Are you withholding anything now?” you teased and Changmin became uneasy. You pointed at him accusingly. “Ohhh, you must have really cursed me and my stupidity out a few times, huh?”

“Something like that.”

“You know how you mentioned at the Christmas party you wished for me to have foresight? I know it sounds stupid but I wonder if there was a Ghost of Christmas listening on and is showing me what should have been. There’s a lesson to be learned in amongst this, I’m sure of it.”

“You reckon you’ll dream of everything?” he questioned nervously, fiddling with the handle on his mug. You watched the motion before slipping your hand over his.

“I hope I dream of what I’m meant to.”

“Me too.”

“Are you sure about that?” you wondered with a mischievous smirk, Changmin finally relaxing and rolling his eyes. “I might end up seeing what’s under those clothes.”

“I thought you didn’t want a dream like that?” he pointed out with a laugh and you merely grinned.

“It’ll be a great conversation.”

“Your brain will probably underestimate everything, as you have in the past.”

“Hey! I take offence to that!”

Changmin shrugged smugly. “Don’t tell me anything more unless it blows your mind.”

Christmas week was fast approaching and you had reluctantly come to another party that Zac had dragged you along to. It wasn’t really your thing and after an hour, you were more than ready to leave this place. However, Zac wasn’t interested at all.

“We came together, are you asking me to leave when I expect you as my girlfriend to stay?”

“I’m not feeling well. I’ll call for a taxi.”

“You do that and we’re over,” he threatened and it was the catalyst you needed for your rising contempt towards him and this relationship. You nodded and pulled your phone out of your pocket. Zac watched as you made the call, scoffing loudly when you were done.

“Do you think I’m joking?”

“I could ask you the same thing.”

He glowered at you. “You’ll be grovelling at my feet to take you back, Y/N. Don’t think you can cope without me.”

You didn’t answer. Instead, you walked off, collecting your coat and waited out in the cold for your ride. Once inside the car, you gave over the first address you could think of, your mind troubled the longer the ride took.

An hour and a half later, along with all your winter savings, you climbed out of the back of the car and stared up at the door before you.

Changmin blinked slowly after finding you on his family home’s doorstep. “Did you… did you do it?”

“Yeah, I ended it.”

“How did you get here?”

“Taxi.”

“Taxi?! Y/N that would have cost you a fortune.”

“Doesn’t matter, I’m where I want to be the most,” you mumbled, stumbling forward into his arms and holding onto Changmin’s waist firmly.

Three days went by and you hadn’t laughed this much in months. You had been fully embraced by Changmin’s family and although you weren’t on their list for Christmas, there was even a present under the tree for you.

Everything was so easy when you were with Changmin in comparison.

After Christmas dinner was done, you had both been put in charge of the dishes, laughing and joking around as you did so. It had just fallen silent between you both comfortably and you looked around the room for where you were meant to put the large dish you had just dried.

“Oh, it goes in that cupboard up there,” your friend mentioned as he continued with the cleaning, and you went over to cupboard, stretching up to put it away. You heard footsteps, Changmin coming in behind you to assist your effort. Once the dish was up, you spun around and smiled up at him.

Changmin seemed lost in your eyes and you found yourself sinking into feelings you weren’t sure you should be experiencing so soon after breaking up with Zac. Looking around, you found yourself a decoration above you that gave you the push for what you wanted to do. Leaning in, you kissed Changmin gently, catching him off guard.

“Why… why did you do that?”

“We’re under mistletoe right now,” you murmured and Changmin sighed in response. Feeling bolder, you stretched up to kiss him again, this time his lips moving against yours.

This, this was what you had always hoped a kiss would feel like. Changmin took over, pressing you into the counter, his mouth possessing a hunger that you had never quite imagined with him. When he pulled away this time, now breathless from the kiss, he stared at you again. “Was that kiss because of the mistletoe as well?”

Shaking your head firmly, you slipped your arms up and linked your hands behind his head. “That was something I’ve wanted to do for a little while now.”

“Well, you’ve got a whole lot more of wanting to catch up on since I’m certain my wait has been far longer than yours,” he admitted, caressing your cheek softly. “Am I really allowed to be kissing you now?”

“I’m realising where my heart belonged all along.”

You woke with tears running down your face, clutching at your chest as the pain and realisation weighed you down. Changmin had loved you back then. In fact, you were certain Changmin had loved you for a long time, perhaps even now. Had you left that party like you wanted to, instead of sitting in the corner wishing to be anywhere but there all night long, could you and Changmin have become something more than friends? Was it even right to consider your best friend this way, when back then you had been blinded by an incessant need to become Zac’s everything?

Despite all the questions running abundant in your head, you knew one thing was clear. You didn’t love Zac anymore and you were over being his wife. Slipping the wedding band off your finger, you dressed and packed what you needed for now. You had cruel timing, given it was Christmas Eve, but you couldn’t live this life anymore.

Writing Zac a brief note about going to stay with family until you could find your own feet, you placed that, your ring and the filled-in divorce papers on the kitchen countertop before heading to the exit.

Only to find your husband in a deep embrace, scantily clad, with your neighbour. You didn’t even feel hurt, merely laughing at the sight. “That explains so much.”

“Y/N,” Zac tried but you shook your head for him to stop.

“Now I don’t feel so bad for leaving. Merry Christmas to you both. I’ll get someone in to collect my remaining belongings in the next week. Please do go back to what you’re doing.”

Heading calmly to the elevator of the apartment complex you lived in, you waited until the doors were closed before you exhaled a shaky breath.

You then smiled. You had released yourself from the place you had kept yourself entrapped. Stepping out into the snowy morning, you felt as light as the snowflakes falling from the heavens. Pulling out your phone after getting into your car, you called Changmin.

“Hey, I have something to tell you.”

“Another dream?”

“Yeah, and I ended things with Zac. I’m going to go stay with my parents and I’ll catch up with you when I’m back.”

“You can’t just leave me hanging with so little information, Y/N.”

“Do you love me?” you asked and heard Changmin take in a shaky breath. “I need some time to sort myself out. When I’m done doing that, I want to see you, okay?”

“You know I’ll always wait for you.”

“I know,” you agreed, smiling all too brightly with the recollection of that kiss in your dreams. “You’ve always been waiting for me.”

“No Christmas party,” you breathed with happiness after rolling over in your bed, stretching your arms. “No tidying the house either.”

“That makes you that happy?”

Grinning at the recipient, you nodded immediately, shifting into his warm embrace, kissing his bare shoulder softly. He chuckled into your ear, snuggling you back. “Should we just spend Christmas in bed?”

“That sounds heavenly.”

“Except, Y/N, we spent Christmas Eve in bed.”

You pouted at this notion. “So we kind of have to get up today then.”

“Not yet though,” he murmured, kissing your cheek tenderly.

You grew relaxed momentarily, your body relishing in the warmth of the man holding you. However, your brain caught up with you then, alerting you to a fact.

This was your first Christmas together.

Well, technically you and Changmin had spent many Christmases together over the years, but this one was different. You sat up suddenly, ignoring the whine in protest he gave you. “Changmin, its Christmas.”

“I know.”

“It’s our first Christmas,” you reiterated and watched as a smile lazily crossed his lips. You grinned. “So you were thinking of it too!”

“How could I not? This is what dreams are made of.”

Leaning in to kiss him, you shook your head to dismiss his claim. “This is no dream. This is our reality.”

Two years ago, you were certain the Ghost of Christmas came to lend you the courage you needed to step out of the world that was destroying who you were. It had taken you some time to allow yourself to fall into Changmin’s arms but ever since you had, you never left them.

He cradled you closer. “Who would have thought some dreams would finally lead us to this though?”

“I’m glad they did. Now, I don’t need to dream anymore since I have the real deal. Though…”

“Though?” he echoed and watched your expression closely. He rolled his eyes. “I’m better in the flesh!”

“Are you sure about that?” you teased and shrieked when your partner pushed you down, climbing on top of you.

“Looks like I need to show you, right now,” Changmin stated, smiling at you warmly. You ran your hands up and down his arms that were now propped on either side of you.

“Merry Christmas, Changmin.”

“Merry Christmas, Y/N. Do you know what I wish for you this Christmas?”

“What?”

“The gift of endless love.”

“I think you already gave me that,” you murmured, reaching up for his lips all the same. “That sounds like a great present though. I think this Christmas gift of yours might be the best one yet.”

_________________

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[crescent-woods]

kiss prompt - no rain, no flowers

[so, a couple things. one, despite rain and flowers in the title, there is neither rain nor flowers in this fic. i just thought it was cute. two, luka is Dumb here and never figured out lb=marinette, for Plot Purposes. requested by @thethirdwheelfriend: Do you write angsty prompts? If so, how about a life or death kiss by the river right before Ladybug has to leave Luka and go fight Hawkmoth one last time without knowing if she'll come back? which is basically the summary.]

#4 place: by the river; reason: life or death

ao3 

Oh. Interesting. “So… you’re Ladybug. You, Marinette Dupain-Cheng, artist, baker, fashion designer, class president, Jagged Stone’s personal designer, roller derby  captain, are Paris’ most famous crime-stopping, akuma-beating superhero? You?”

“Uh, yeah. Pretty much.”

“Wow.”

“Are you surprised? Upscared? Uh, I mean, upset? Or scared?” 

“I mean, no, not really. It makes sense, honestly. Only Paris’ most fearsome girl could be Ladybug. I just- I don’t really know. That’s a lot.”

She was just standing there in that awkward please-don’t-hate-me Marinette Original stance as he begged his brain to catch up and say something to stop her worrying mind.

He took a sharp inhale, about to ask How the hell did that happen? or maybe why are you telling me? what’s it like? do you actually know how to spin a yo-yo? how does your Lucky Charm work? where does your power come from? how do you possibly balance all of that on top of being Paris’ top crime and Akuma stopper? when his phone buzzed. And then hers. The TV blared a Breaking Report below deck. 

Hawkmoth Spotted with Strange New Akuma? What could be happening that they classify an Akuma as strange?

Then he pulled up the photo attached to the alert. Hawkmoth and a blue, vaguely humanoid-shape… with tentacles? That’s definitely new, but not exactly something Luka thought note-worthy after rock giants, shape-shifters, and a straight-up mermaid. The Akuma still scared him, aside from the tentacles. It just looked more powerful than anything he had ever seen. He knew Akumas’ strength depended on how their rationale and emotions were enhanced, but this went beyond that. Its entire being scared the shit out of him.

Luka was afraid for the heroes. He was afraid just looking at a photo, not even its path of anger, much less a direct threat like they were. What a nightmare it would be to fight that thing. Godspeed, Ladybug and Chat Noir. They’re definitely going to need as much help as possible with this one.

Shit. 

Ladybug fights Akumas. Ladybug needs to fight this Akuma. Marinette is Ladybug. Marinette Dupain-Cheng needs to go fight this Akuma. The small, fragile, sometimes clumsy girl next to him is going to fight this intimidating Akuma, and Hawkmoth himself, in a matter of minutes.

He told himself not to worry. She’s done this for years. She knows how to fight. She knows how to defend herself. She has Chat Noir by her side. An akuma’s judgement is always too clouded to do any real damage. She has her yo-yo. She has the back-up heroes if something goes really wrong. She wouldn’t have been chosen as Ladybug five years ago if she couldn’t handle it. This isn’t her first or fifth or twentieth Akuma battle. Ladybug can beat an Akuma. Marinette can beat an Akuma. She’s a badass. As klutzy and awkward as Marinette is, she’s got more than enough ferocity to survive. If Luka had to back one person as the option to beat Hawkmoth, it would be Marinette Dupain-Cheng.

But then Luka notices Marinette’s trembling. She’s staring wide-eyed at the photo on her phone, muttering something he can’t hear.

He reaches for her arm and then she’s looking wildly at him. “Marinette? What’s wrong? It’s an Akuma, got this. You always got this.”

Her eyes are searching his face like his teal blue dye could hold the answers to the universe. 

“This isn’t just an Akuma, Luka.” Her voice shakes. “This is Hawkmoth. In public, for the first time in years. And I’m not sure that’s even an Akuma at all. It looks too powerful, too aware. It almost looks li-”

And she’s back to staring at the photo. Except her eyes are racing even faster now and growing bigger by the second and her shoulders are trembling harder than he thought possible.

“Marinette? What is it, Marinette? It looks like what?”

“It looks like a Miraculous holder. Look at its arm. That’s not a stylised ridge. That’s a bracelet. Molded into its skin so you can’t try to take it off. What Miraculous do you know that’s blue and looks like a bracelet?”

“No.” Luka froze.

“Yes.”

“That means Hawkmoth has the snake Miraculous. Hawkmoth has Sass. Hawkmoth has Second Chance. Hawkmoth has…” Luka’s eyes widen. “Marinette, how did Hawkmoth get the bracelet? Was it in the Miracle Box?”

Now it was Marinette’s turn to freeze. “Oh my god. Oh godohgodoh shit. He knows who I am.”

“So let’s get this straight. Hawkmoth has the butterfly. He has the peacock. He has the snake.” A frantic nod. “Hawkmoth knows where the Miraculous Box is, so he knows its owner - you. So then he knows that you’re Ladybug because who else would have the Box?”

The color drained out of Marinette’s face. “If he got into the Box, he could have all of the Miraculouses.” She paced around the room as she tried to think. “I need to, uh, I need to call Chat. See where he is, bring him up to speed. Then um… Check on m-my parents and the bakery and the Box and see what’s left. Bring in everyone whose Miraculous is left.” 

“Yeah, yeah. Good plan.” Luka sank down on the chair behind him. “Good plan. That sounds good. Get all the heroes to help and make sure everyone stays safe, yeah. Make sure he didn’t hurt anybody at the bakery and grab all the Miraculouses, yeah. Yeah.”

A sharp inhale broke Luka out of his own thoughts and he shot up from his seat. Marinette shook, breath more shallow than it should have been, with her phone pressed so tensely to her lips he was surprised it hadn’t Cataclysm-ed out of pure force. 

“Marinette.” He rubbed her upper arms as the lull of the boat rocked beneath them. “Breathe. Stop thinking. Feel the water. You know what to do. You can do it. You’re Ladybug. You’re Marinette Dupain-Cheng. You’ve taken down Chloe, you got through Lila’s lies, you work for goddamn Jagged Stone, Marinette. You’re not alone. You have Chat. Whatever heroes he didn’t take.” 

He pulled her slowly calming form into his chest. “You can handle Hawkmoth. It’ll be a walk in the park. A cakewalk. A breeze. A piece of cake. A… breezy walk in the park to get a piece of cake from the cakewalk. Yeah. You got this.”

A giggle sounded from the body that had started hugging him back. He squeezed her tight for a few seconds. Her arms wrapped tighter around his back and her cheek smushed further into his chest as if she were trying to burrow for safety in him.

“You are Marinette Dupain-Cheng. Baker, artist, roller derby star, fashion designer, class president. Ladybug. The only person in history to kiss Fang and get away with it. Multiple times. How many awards have you won with MDC by now? Like, thirteen?” A little voice mumbled no into his shirt. “No yeah, you’re right. It’s gotta be more like twenty by now. Not to mention Ultimate Mecha Strike. How many competitions can they let you win before they stop you from competing anymore?”

The giggles were a little louder now, shaking him as he rocked her to the waves. 

“I’ll never understand how you accomplish so much, Marinette. How can you face everything the world throws at you and still come out so beautiful and passionate? I know you’ll beat Hawkmoth. Smart, creative, passionate, caring, and better than Hawkmoth in every single way possible.” 

“Compare that to his cranky, old-man-purple suit, those Akumas are all weak excuses to preserve his fragile bones from actually having to fight his own battles, and what vibrant, normal person has hours to spend every day sitting around a bunch of butterflies waiting for someone to be upset? Old men, that’s who. And he’s even got a cane -  what else do you need to tell the world I’m a lonely old man failing to destroy the world? What a weak excuse of a bad guy. Coward hides behind some wall instead of besting us all in hand-to-hand combat like a real man ‘cause his retirement home won’t let him out of his wheelchair.”

There it is. The girl in question was sporting a full, teeth-out smile, even as her tears continued to spread on his shirt. Even Luka couldn’t hide his smiles or shaky laughs.

“You are going to beat his ass, Marinette Dupain-Cheng, and you will live to tell the tale.”

Marinette looked up at him through tear-stained lashes. “You’re a sap. And a terrible comedian. It’s a good thing you’re a musician or else I would be worried about what all this emotion would do to your brain, Luka.”

“Yeah, yeah.” He kissed the crown of her forehead for good luck or goodbye or something (anything, as long as he could kiss her), before woefully unwinding her from his arms. “Now get out there and save the day, Ladybug.”

[starlessskies94]

Consequence (Joel Miller x OC)

Summary: What if Joel survived his injuries from the Abby and Fireflies attack but ends up with really bad amnesia. He can’t remember his wife, Ellie, or the Outbreak; only before. How will his family bring back the man they once knew?

Pairing: Joel Miller x OC

Note: I will say that this chapter was a hard one to write...not because of story reasons, I'm just don't feel 100% happy with it. I've edited it time and time again; to the point it's driving me mad. So I've decided to post it as it is because I really don't want to keep obsessing over it and want to continue onward as I believe this plot is good and really don't want to put myself off writing it. I'm actually enjoying it so I'm trying not to push myself or be too critical and take the fun out of it.So I do apologise if it's a disappointing chapter and really hope you do enjoy it.

Chapter Five

The whole town was staring at her, she could feel it when she passed. She’d only stepped out for a quick trip to the general store to grab some last minute ingredients for her and Ellie’s supper. And yet she still felt every set of eyes burning into her back as she made her way home.

They’d been gossiping again, it was painfully obvious. Since Joel’s attack and their unplanned...separation, it seemed like everybody had an opinion on the situation.

Some not agreeing with her choice to give Joel his space; claiming she was ‘abandoning’ him, that she was selfish and cruel. Others had fabricated the idea that she herself had actually planned the attack as revenge for an apparent infidelity Joel had.

It was all ridiculous and Ada didn’t know how much longer she could put up with it. She’s been more than grateful to Ellie for covering her shift in the stables for the past couple of days. It had given her some time to escape it all and pretend it wasn’t happening, just for a little while. Ada was downright exhausted from trying to hold it together. She missed Joel like crazy, wasn’t sleeping after being used to sleeping beside him for years and even when she did manage to fall asleep, it was only racked with nightmares.

She continued down the street; backpack in hand with her groceries inside weighing it down as she struggled slightly, but carried on in her rush to get back. Her boots crunching against the slush of melting snowing under foot, it was quickly beginning to thaw; a clear sign that Spring was well on its way. It was hard to believe it had been almost a whole month since Joel’s attack and though Ada hadn’t spoken to him since he’d woken in the infirmary; she still hoped he was doing okay.

She’d kept up to date on his progress through regular updates from Tommy and it had broken her heart when he’d told of the first day he’d returned to find his older brother, a sobbing mess on the floor of his trashed room as he desperately tried to understand what had happened to him.

It had made her question her decision to leave Joel with time to heal. That perhaps it wasn’t what was best for him. But Tommy had told her he was still struggling to piece his timeline together after losing Sarah. He had taken the time to help with the early years of the Outbreak; all the way through to their time in Boston. But then Joel had gotten overwhelmed and hadn’t brought it up since. That had been enough for them to agree Joel wasn’t ready to process his time as a Smuggler and everything else that had come after it.

At times it almost seemed as if he was repressing most of it and if Adaline was honest, she couldn’t blame him. It was a hard life and most wished they could forget the horrid things they’d done to survive. She just deeply hoped that part of him wasn’t holding back his memories of her and Ellie.

It seemed that her deep thoughts had run away from her as she suddenly bumped into a large chest almost slipping on some snow. The tug of large gloved hands stopped her as they held gently onto the small of her back and she managed to steady herself. Ada quickly collected herself as she looked up at the face of her saviour and her heart almost stopped.

“Whoa easy there...you okay miss?” Joel smiled kindly, taking a step back as his arms fell back to his sides. Ada gulped down a gasp, choking slightly at her words before speaking.

“Ye- Yes...Thank you.” She forced, her heart drumming in her chest. Both staring at one another in an awkward silence. She looked at him and almost cried. He stood balanced with a cane in his hand, his kind eyes sore and bloodshot from exhaustion as he looked back at her. His clothes were noticeably loose on his frame, she wondered when he’d last ate. Joel was a terrible cook, it had always been her job to keep him well fed. It had been a long running joke between them but now it just made her hurt. She swallowed hard pulling at the bag in her hand, her feet shuffling as she quickly thought of something to say.

“I’m sorry for walking into you, my mind was somewhere else completely.” She explained pitifully, Joel just smiled again while waving his hand dismissively.

“Nah don’t worry about it, I was just trying to find my way home.”

“Are you lost?” She asked almost too fast, her brows creasing in concern. Her husband cringed at the blatant embarrassment he felt at forgetting his way back after leaving the stables but it’d been a long day and after failing to find his younger brother, Joel was quite content with simply heading home and waiting for Tommy to find him, rather than wander around Jackson all day. Though it had seemed on his way back, he had gotten confused with the winding streets and ended up right back where he started. He blushed at Ada’s concern, his hand reaching up to rub at his neck in that bashful way he always did when he felt flustered. Even now Ada still found it adorable.

“Yeah...You...uh... wouldn’t happen to know where I live would ya?” He asked sheepishly. “Yeah I can walk you back if you want, it’s not that far from my place.”

He nodded, falling into a gentle pace beside her as they walked together. Ada keeping her speed slow enough for him to keep up with his cane aiding his injured leg.

“Hey I wanted to thank you…” Joel started as they continued walking, Ada glancing his way while he continued. “You were a volunteer at the infirmary right? Adaline...You helped take care of me while I was in a bad way. Don’t think I ever managed to thank you for that.”

Ada smiled timidly.

“Yeah that’s me, it's just Ada. You’re welcome. I’m...I’m glad you’re okay.”

They continued walking as the silence fell between them but it wasn’t comfortable like it normally was. It felt strained and rather awkward. Joel would wince at the ache in his bad leg the further down the street they went and Ada could tell he was frustrated with the cane he’d been given to accommodate his injury. He’d always been a bad patient, stubborn and restless; even with something as simple as a cold she had struggled to keep him in bed to rest. Ada would steal the occasional glance at him when he wasn’t looking, it felt strange to miss him now even though he was right beside her. She wanted to hold him, kiss him, even settle for falling asleep together on the couch as a crappy movie played on in the background.

Joel paused as they approached his house...their house. His eyes almost searching hers for something she couldn’t quite place. He smiled sincerely, leaning on his cane the longer he stared at her. They stopped and stood at the bottom of the small set of stairs that led to the patio.

“Think this is me...Thanks for this.” He grinned. “I still can’t remember what the hell happened, been going over it in my head damn near a thousand times and I still got nothing. But I’m grateful your girl and her friends found me when they did.” This caught Ada’s attention, brown eyes snapping back up at Joel.

“You talked to Ellie?”

“Yeah at the stables earlier this morning. Her and her girlfriend...Dina? Yeah that sounds right. She’s a good kid.”

“She is.” Ada agreed. The sadness weighing heavily in her heart at the lost and pain Ellie had struggled with since Joel’s attack. Her mind instantly filled with worry, hoping she was okay. She listened politely to her husband the more he talked about Ellie and the hard work she was doing with Dina and how proud she should be that her daughter was handling things so well at such a young age. Our daughter, she’d thought with a broken heart. Tommy had explained patrols to him a short while ago and he was amazed at how many teenagers had offered to take the watches and joined the ranks to protect the town. It was impressive to Joel to see so many young people step up to take care of their families. Even if he did think some were a little too young to be taking such dangerous routes. Ada smiled at the same old Joel shining through, it made her realise just how much she truly did miss him. She was about to bid him a bittersweet goodbye, preparing to force her away when all she really wanted to do was pull him close, even just for a moment, when he cleared his throat. A serious look darkening his features.

“Listen, I meant to ask before but I wasn’t sure if it was appropriate or not but I uh...heard you in the infirmary not long after I woke up. You were upset, asking about your husband I think, I guess I just wanted to ask if everything was okay.” His words were quiet but she heard them, her breath catching in her throat, heart racing as she panicked, rushing to string her words together to answer.

“Uh...he’s...gone. He went out on patrol a couple weeks ago. He still hasn’t come back yet.” It wasn’t a complete lie. After all, the man that had returned from patrol that day hadn’t been her husband. He was a stranger to her now. A ghost that just looked like her Joel. It struck her as she wondered if that side of him really would stay gone. That there really was the possibility that he really never was going to come back. It turned her cold the more she thought about it.

Joel’s face fell as he dropped his gaze to the floor, a sad sigh brushing passed his lips.

“Damn...I’m really sorry to hear that. I can’t imagine how hard that must be for you. How hard that must be for Ellie to lose her dad like that…”

“You have no idea.” She breathed. Those were the words that came from Ada’s lips but more than anything she wanted to tell Joel how much Ellie missed him. How much they both did. But Ada knew she couldn’t be selfish, telling Joel now would only further overwhelm him, confuse him. And that wasn’t fair on anyone. None of this was. It wasn’t Joel’s fault, he was just trying to be friendly to someone he thought was a simple acquaintance. But Ada didn’t think she could stand there much longer and continue to pretend this wasn’t tearing her apart inside.

She turned pulling at the bag of groceries and forced a small smile Joel’s way as politely as she could.

“I should really be heading back, you think you’ll be okay now?”

“Oh yeah, thanks again. It sounds ridiculous to need help getting to a house you’ve lived in for years but I’m pretty sure I’ve got it now. I’m sorry for prying too, it’s obviously upset you. That wasn’t my intention.” Ada could almost laugh at the fact that even now after everything; Joel could still see right through her mask and sense how she was feeling. It was one of the reasons she fell in love with him. “I’m sorry about your husband Ada... I really hope he finds his way back to you and your girl.”

“Yeah me too.” She didn’t look back as she walked away. She couldn’t. It hurt too damn much.

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

By the time she got home, Ada couldn’t even feel the chill in the air anymore. She was too damn numb to know it was even there.

Her hand was shaking when she reached to unlock the door but found it was already open.

“Ellie?” She called out stepping inside the door. “Ellie you home?” She tried again, making her way through the small house and wandering into the kitchen to put away her groceries. Still nothing.

She noticed her daughter’s jacket and boots thrown in a heap by the back door and rolled her eyes with a huff. I’ve told that girl a hundred times to put her stuff away! She thought in irritation as she moved to tidy them up.

“Ellie!”

There was still no answer and Ada came to the conclusion that the teen must be in her room, headphones in, music cranked up again. Slipping off her own boots, she made her way upstairs. She could hear Ellie stomping about her room, moving to knock at the door before entering. When she stepped inside she hesitated when she saw her daughter rushing around the space, darting back and forth with clothes and packed food. Her gun was cleaned slid into the back of her jeans along with her faithful pocket knife in the back pocket of her jeans. Ada's eyes widened at the maps and, marked photos and tourist leaflets littered across Ellie’s bed.

“Ellie what do you think you’re doing?” She choked out, her voice strained against her suddenly dry throat.

The girl didn’t look up at her mother as she hastily continued to pack.

“What does it look like?” She uttered. “I’m going after them.”

“The hell you are! Put this stuff away now.” Ada ordered, this made Ellie stop. As she looked back at her mom with pure venom in her eyes. Her lips curled in anger. Although it had been nearly a month since Joel's attack, Ellie and Ada still haven't addressed the elephant in the room. The same damn thing that had been hanging over all of them since Saint Mary’s Hospital. The Fireflies.

“So they just get to get away with this?!” She spat at the older woman. The anger boiling in her veins as she stomped back over to the mess of maps on her bed. “Mom I can find those fuckers, Tommy said he’d gotten word they were headed towards Seattle. Dina agreed to help me with this, we can find them and I can-”

“Ellie they don’t matter anymore. It’s over. Joel is what’s important and he needs us here.”

The teen scoffed bitterly at her mother’s words, biting hard on her lip almost drawing blood. Her hands clenched tightly until her knuckles burned.

“They don’t matter?! They almost killed him, tortured him and you’re just gonna let them walk away?!”

“They believe he is dead and we need to keep it that way, you go running after them, whaddya you think they’ll do huh?! Joel needs us here, when he remembers-”

“STOP WITH THE BULLSHIT!” Ellie screamed. “He’s gone mom, don’t you get that?! He doesn't remember us! We mean nothing to him! Stop pretending everything is going to be okay because it fucking isn't! Joel’s gone!" Her mother froze at her words and Ellie gasped as her hand flew to cover her mouth at what she’d just said.

Her brain slowly catching up with her as the tension melted away, the air almost sobering the two as they stared blankly at one another. Brown eyes welled with tears, slowly rolling down Ada’s cheeks. The woman falling to her knees as a wet sob broke from her lips, Ellie rushed to her mother dropping beside her with arms attempting to pull her close.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry mom.” She whispered into her mother’s hair, holding her close against her shoulder. “I shouldn’t...I never should’ve…” She felt at a loss for words. For what could she possibly say to make up for it. It was cruel and she wished more than anything that she could take it all back.

Ellie was tired of hurting people, tired of losing and watching those she loved leave. What good was being the fucking cure to mankind if all it did was bring misery and death everywhere she went?! It wasn’t fair! She hadn’t asked for this, hadn’t wanted to be immune or some special chosen one. Since the day she’d been bitten nothing had been the same and nothing had been easy.

But when she’d finally had the chance to have something good...a real fucking family. It had been cruelly snatched her just like everything else!

Ellie knew how much her mom missed Joel, how heartbroken she was. She held her as she cried for a man they both knew had a strong chance of never coming back. What if he never remembered? She had spoken to him and it had been like talking to a stranger. A man so far gone that he couldn’t even remember her name.

In that moment Ellie broke, collapsing against her mother as she felt hands rub at her back in that soothing way she’d always done since she was a baby. They sat and they cried together. Mother and daughter mourning for a lost husband...and a lost father.

[angstyaches]

Ok so I freaking love belly rubs and now that we’ve seen Shayne receive a belly rub I want to see it reversed 😂 Charlie has an upset stomach for some reason and realizes that he just really needs to burp but he can’t and all day long the feeling just gets worse until he’s finally home and can lay down but still nothing will come up and when Shayne shows up and he lets him through the window he immediately knows something is wrong (p 1 of 2)

(P 2 of 2) somehow Charlie convinced him to help him by rubbing his stomach which of course helps and he burps into his fist a couple of times but it’s not releasing the pressure at all, actually it’s making him feel nauseous and before he knows it he suddenly vomits all over him and Shayne ( I know this doesn’t really fit with the plot you’ve got since the ending of the last fic with Shayne but i didn’t know how to make it fit 😂 you can ignore this prompt if ya want lol)

Milo, thank you, thank you, thank you. I had so much fun writing this. Baby’s first prompt.

Sorry if this is obnoxiously long; I have no idea how to judge length yet.

CW: vomiting

In the pub

Charlie had zoned out hours ago, upon realising that the three-year age gap between him and his oldest cousins meant a lot more when he was eighteen and they were fifteen. Whatever pop culture they were chatting about held no interest for him, and whatever gossip his parents, aunts, and uncles were engaging him would likely be just as boring.

He wished he could have gone and talked to Jonathan. He hadn’t seen his half-brother in months, yet he’d barely wanted to speak two words with Charlie all day. He’d brought two friends along, which Aunt Pauline had been annoyed about at the start of the day. She had gotten over it; Charlie, however, had not. The three of them had been skulking outdoors in the smoking area for hours.

Although, if he’d been given first pick, Charlie would have been chatting to been the pretty bartender with the gold lip ring. The guy looked run off his feet, yet had a smile for every one of Charlie’s relatives who had an order to bark at him, be it a chocolate-stained little cousin or his cane-wielding grandmother. He was so cute, but Charlie was too nervous to even look him in the eye. He also felt slightly… guilty, though he could think of no rational reason why he should feel guilty. He wasn’t spoken for by anyone; not even close. And that just made him sink further into his loneliness.

So, with no conversational opportunity, Charlie had occupied himself with the bar food that came out in waves. He didn’t often eat greasy food at home, and he ate exactly like a kid let loose in a store full of chicken goujons and potato wedges. His stomach started to feel kind of sloshy at one point, but that might have been from copious amounts of fizzy orange. More food would surely soak it up and settle everything down.

After the cute waiter dropped off a tray of drinks at the “adult” table, Charlie’s dad stood up and took a glass over to where Charlie was sitting.

“There you are, designated driver,” Trevor said. His cheeks were flushed red from drinking for pretty much the whole day.

“Thanks, Dad,” Charlie said, fidgeting with the keys in his hoodie pocket. “Can we go soon? I’m getting tired.”

“Of course. Last drink and we’ll hit the road,” Trevor winked, giving Charlie’s shoulder a squeeze. “You really are a blessing, son.”

He couldn’t tell if the flutter in his chest was because of the waiter still, or because of what his dad had just said. It might also have been indigestion, though he wouldn’t think of that until a little later.

“Maybe go and say goodbye to Jonathan before we head off, yeah?”

“Alright, Dad.” A blessing, he thought as his father went back to the proper adult table and sat next to his wife. Their half-demon offspring is a blessing to them. Part of him wanted to burst out laughing, the other half wanted to weep. He hovered somewhere in between, smiling despite the tightness in his chest.

He guzzled a few mouthfuls of the fizzy drink, stealing his courage as he stood up and went to talk to Jonathan.

In the car

The drive home itself was exhausting. Charlie’s energy was already spent after a whole day of socialising. His stomach was making some awful sounds, though it felt lazy and sluggish inside him after being fed such little amounts so many times throughout the day. The flavour of the fizzy orange kept repeating on him too, and he vowed never to touch the stuff again. He glanced over to see that his dad had fallen asleep against the passenger door. In the rear-view mirror, he saw that his mum was snoring with her head thrown back.

Charlie swallowed harshly. It felt like some of the fizzy orange was sitting in his throat, blocking his airways a bit. Gripping the steering wheel tightly at ten and two, he tried to let some of the air up from his stomach, but the bubbles stayed exactly where they were, gurgling amongst the sickly combination of food in his belly.

He slid his right hand from two to twelve on the steering wheel, glancing once again to make sure his dad was still asleep; Trevor would definitely yell at him for having one hand off the wheel, but it was a straight, empty road, and Charlie was decidedly below the recommended speed.

Besides, he could probably pull up enough strength to telekinetically steer the car, if he had to. Having acceleratingly strong demonic powers had its unexpected quirks, after all.

Charlie rubbed a hand across his belly, realising that it was filling out his hoodie a lot more than it should have been. He stifled a whimper as he pushed on the swell, hoping to force up at least some of what was making his stomach feel so bad. It gurgled under his hand, the pain shifting slightly but not upwards. There was a slight rumble in his chest, a fizzing in the back of his throat, but nothing more.

He put his left hand back on the wheel and sighed, surviving on the fact that at least he’d be home and lying in bed without the hour.

Back home

“Night, Mum, night, Dad,” Charlie called dully down the hall, though they’d probably both passed out on their bed in the time it had taken him to brush his teeth. He’d hoped the minty flavour would have soothed the burning acidity, but it had just mixed sickly with the fizzy orange reflux. He could finally hunch over a bit and rub his belly with a little more force, now he was alone in his room.

He reached for his bedside lamp, when a tap on the window made him jump. He almost knocked his little brown stuffed bear from the nightstand, and he rushed to straighten him.

“Sorry, Vincent,” he whispered before approaching the window. Another tiny pebble hit the glass and Charlie groaned under his breath. Couldn’t that boy learn how to send a text?

Charlie cradled his belly as he spotted the dark-haired figure in the back yard. Usually, the sight of Shayne gave him a very light, pleasant feeling, but right now he felt the furthest from light he’d ever been. He sighed and directed his gaze towards the back door, focusing on undoing the lock before ducking back into the room.

He leaned against the windowsill, rubbing his belly desperately. It was definitely too much to ask, that all of the burps trapped inside him come up in the time it took Shayne to get inside, take off his ridiculous boots, and creep upstairs. All Charlie succeeded in bringing up were a couple of orangey splashes that burned his tongue.

“Whatever it is, I’m not in the mood,” he whispered as soon as Shayne let himself quietly into the room.

The dark-haired boy frowned as he closed the door. “Hmm?”

Charlie sighed and sat down on his bed. “I don’t care if it’s a voodoo doll or a silver stake or a monkey’s fucking paw. Can we do it another time?”

“Okay, first of all; hi,” Shayne muttered. “Second; how would any of those things be useful in exorcising or communicating with a demon? And third; where were you all?”

“My cousin’s christening,” Charlie said, slipping a hand into his hoodie pocket so he could keep some pressure on his stomach. “It went on kind of late.”

“You’re telling me?” Shayne began to pace evenly back and forth. “This place gives me shivers on a normal day. Ten times worse when it’s all dark and unoccupied.”

“Well, you could try not hanging around on other people’s property,” Charlie grumbled.

“I caught three demons in the back yard,” Shayne said. “Three demons that will never possess your parents, so you’re welcome.”

“So, you’ve got fucking warding jars on you?” Charlie whined. He knew he was feeling awful for a reason, but if those jars were close-by, they certainly wouldn’t be helping.

“’Course not, I left them at the far end of the garden,” Shayne hissed. “Okay, you’re sounding more like me than me tonight. What’s going on?”

Charlie swallowed and looked up at his friend. His belly was groaning, and he hoped he was the only one hearing it. He pulled his hand from his pocket and started holding it a bit more firmly, giving up the secrecy.

“I don’t feel so good,” he whined, sitting forward. “My tummy’s really sore.”

“Oh. Well, why haven’t you taken any of those tablets you always try to force on me?”

“Because I’ll be fine once I can burp, but so far, nothing wants to come up.” Charlie’s face burned at hearing himself give so much detail. He lowered his head as he leaned towards his knees, curling around the knot of pain.

He felt the mattress take Shayne’s weight, and then a hand prying his away from his stomach. He took a sharp breath and looked up.

“Are you going to rub my tummy?”

“You’ll never hear me say it in those words, but… yeah.” Shayne was still frowning, though Charlie recognised a slight blush in his cheeks. “Here, straighten up. Stop sitting like an idiot.”

“That’s mean,” Charlie whined, slowly released his vice-grip on his belly and straightening his back. “Why do I feel like you’re going to be really bad at – mmm.”

Shayne’s hand could almost have covered Charlie’s whole belly if it hadn’t been so bloated and tight. His stomach churned uneasily alongside the movement of Shayne’s fingers, until Charlie felt gas bubbles press up towards his chest. He felt himself groan without deciding he was going to.

Shayne held his breath, pausing the motion of his hand. “What? Am I doing it wrong?”

“No, no, don’t stop,” Charlie groaned. “Can you rub my back, too?”

As soon as Shayne pressed on Charlie’s stomach and ran a hand up his spine, Charlie felt the gas bubbles release, making a deep rumbling sound in his chest. He pressed a fist to his mouth and turned his head away from Shayne. The burp was so loud Charlie worried it would wake his parents, and lasted about four seconds.

“Holy shit,” Shayne whispered. “I think I felt the room shake.”

“Shut up,” Charlie groaned.

“Feel any better?”

“Not really.”

“I’m going to lift your jumper, okay?”

Charlie almost squeaked as Shayne slid his hand under his hoodie, rubbing at the straining skin of his belly. Charlie dug his nails into the duvet to keep himself from wriggling. His skin was starting to feel prickly and warm, but that could have just been because of what was happening. Shayne was here and touching him, and not just through his clothes. He had his hand on Charlie’s bare torso. He was in pain, but he should have been enjoying this at least a little.

A weak smile twitched across his mouth as he nudged his cheek experimentally against Shayne’s shoulder. When the dark-haired boy didn’t flinch in any major way, he let himself lean a little harder, hoping his heart wasn’t pounding as loudly as he thought it was.

“What did you do to it, anyway?” Shayne asked, and it took Charlie a second to realise he was talking about his stomach. His fingers kneaded gently across it

“I, um, just kept eating, I guess.” Charlie turned his head to let out another burp, though this one sounded like it was strangled on its way up from his stomach. “And my dad kept bringing me fizzy drinks. Designated driver, you know? Aw – fuck, Shayne.”

Charlie frowned and winced as his stomach suddenly lurched under the pressure of Shayne’s hand.

“Shit – what is it?”

“I don’t know,” Charlie murmured, his cheeks suddenly tingling. A certain kind of panic began to ring in his ears. “Oh, god, I think I’m going to –”

He retched before fully realising it was happening, before he could do any kind of aiming or get his hands in front of his mouth. His hands did fly out, one landing on Shayne’s back, the other on his own knee. The majority of the thick, orange vomit landed down the front of Shayne’s jacket and t-shirt, the rest of it flicked across Shayne’s jeans and the duvet cover.

“Oh, my god, Shayne,” Charlie gasped. His hand was shaking as he brought it up to cover his mouth. Almost immediately, his head pitched forward again, another long gush of sticky orange liquid and chunks of bar food spraying over the sleeve of his hoodie as he tried to block it, but a lot still landed in Shayne’s lap.

Shayne sighed, though he really hoped Charlie didn’t hear it. He’d definitely take it the wrong way, thinking Shayne was sighing out of frustration when really, it was the only way he could release the intense sympathy he felt as the blonde boy clung to him and vomited. Shayne continued to rub Charlie’s back, though he wasn’t sure if it was helping or making things worse.

Charlie hiccuped into his sleeve, clearly forgetting that he’d just gotten sick all over it.

“Shayne,” he croaked, slowly lifting his gaze. “I’m so sorry.”

“Feeling any better?”

“Actually, yeah, I am.”

Shayne shrugged. “Then it’s fine. Jesus, if only exorcising you was so damn easy.”

[toonqueen]

Duckvember 2020

-Dreadful-

SORRY I’M ON A KICK WITH MY HEADCANON FOR NEGA-GLADSTONE.

*Sees what the next prompt after this is.* Well shit. Btw Grandma Coot in this is Grandma Duck. Nega Grandma doesn’t use her married name in the Negaverse cuz FUN TIMES. 

This again is in the 87/comics universe headcanon I have. Whee.

Some casual cussing cuz Negaversers cuss okay. 

:readmore:

---------

“I have some business in the city. Would you like to come with me?” Elvira Coot asked her grandson. 

The young teenager was sprawled out on the couch, watching some violent cartoon nonsense on TV. He looked up at her, since the show wasn’t really holding his attention. “Which city?” Grimstone replied as he fiddled to find the off button on the remote. 

“Which city,” she snorted, as if Grimstone had cracked a bad joke, “I remember when Duckburg was farmland. St. Canard is the only real city around here.”

“Alright, I’ll go. Right now?” 

“Yes, right now.”

Grimstone got up quickly to put on his shoes and an overly large sweater his Grandma had knit him. A sweater she had done within days of taking him in. Though she was sometimes short with her grandson, and often painfully blunt, she obviously cared for him. 

Grim’s childhood was rough; from a controlling mother to being locked up in a basement for years before running away and joining a wayward group of kids. Despite his Grandmother’s harsh attitude, this was the best he had it so far. Meals three times a day, and actually appreciated when he did work around the farm. Grimstone was allowed to wander the swamps freely, spend alone time in his very own bedroom.

“Where are we going exactly?” Grimstone asked as they headed to the pickup truck parked out front.

“Picking up two more generators,” Grandma answered, climbing into the truck. Grimstone hopped in beside her.

“Don’t you have, like, four already?” Grimstone stated as he buckled his seat belt. Grandma started the truck without putting on hers. Grimstone wordlessly glared at her until she sighed and put on her own seat belt. The young teen already had several arguments with his Grandmother that she couldn’t be a doomsday prepper but not wear her seat belt for safety. There was irony somewhere in that. 

“Six,” Grandma corrected, “you can never have too many generators for when the world ends.”

Grimstone, upon first being taken in by his Grandmother, did find her doomsday survivalist side an unexpected quirk. His mother had never been like that. Sure, his mother dearest had lived “in the now’” making some selfish decisions but wasn’t so pessimistic about the future. 

And the way Grandma stocked up, like there would be hundreds staying on the farm when the time came. He found that even more strange; before he came to the farm it was just her living there alone. She’d mention the other family sometimes, his cousins. All her many grandkids. Grim often wondered why she wasn’t a part of their lives anymore. She hadn’t even been a part of his until he accidentally found the farm. And that was just pure luck. 

Ol’ Elvira Coot had purposely stopped talking about the inlaw side of the family related to the McDucks. She noticed Grimstone would tense up and get unusually quiet whenever she mentioned them. She also picked up the boy was a little claustrophobic. Grimstone definitely did not like going into some of the storage rooms in the basement. There were a few comments Grim had made here and there about staying with other relatives when his parents died. The same he clearly ran away from. 

Grandma didn’t pry since it seemed to upset him, but she was willing to listen if he ever wanted to talk. Often Elvira just wanted to tell him that if she had known her daughter died, she would have come get him, but she wasn’t sure if that’d only upset Grimstone more. One day she’d tell him everything.

Most of the drive Grimstone was silent, which was normal for him. He always liked to observe the wide expanse of the swamp around the farm, turning into dry grasslands before getting closer to St. Canard. Crossing the bridge, he finally piped up. “They fixed the frayed cables on the left side finally.”

“Yeah, I just noticed that, too,” Grandma Coot retorted. A worrisome thought crossed her mind, but she bit her tongue. “You can stay in the truck while everything gets loaded.”

“Nah, I’ll go with you. Maybe you’ll get a better deal if they know you have this adorable mouth to feed,” Grimstone said, playfully sarcastic. He gave a cheeky smile without showing any teeth. 

His Grandma noticed ages ago Grimstone never smiled with his teeth. Just like her. 

“Hmm, I wouldn’t bet on that, bucko,” Grandma replied, keeping her eyes on the road as she reached over to ruffle his hair.  She remembered when he would shy away from any physical contact. However, it only took a couple weeks to get over that wall, and the little brat quickly accepted hugs and affection. 

Grim turned his gaze from the window to the elderly duck. “Hey, can we stop by that ice cream place we went to last time? After you pick up your stuff?” 

Grandma Coot chuckled. “Oh, so that was your scam all along, huh? Here I thought you just wanted to keep your precious grandma company when all you really wanted was that tabasco ice cream again, hmm?” 

Although Elvira was only feigning hurt and joking, Grimstone still felt like he had to defend himself. “What! No!” he argued. “I just thought of it now! That ice cream was some good shit but I still like spending time with you!” 

“I know, I know. How about we pick up a whole carton of it to bring home? *But*, then you have to clean out the goat stalls,” she bargained.

“Yeah, sure, okay, fine,” Grim grumbled and crossed his arms. In truth, he really didn’t mind the busy work around the farm. He wasn’t going to let her know that any time soon, though, since chores were often traded for treats. “Sometimes I wonder how you took care of that place all by yourself before I came along.”

It was a simple comment. He didn’t mean anything by it. Elvira sighed sadly, “Well, I wasn’t always alone.” After a silent pause, she added gingerly, “But now I have your bastard ass to keep me on my toes.”  

“Hey!” Grim playfully back-handed his Grandma lightly on the arm. 

“If you’re calling that a punch, we need to work on your fighting later,” Elvira smirked. 

“My shooting’s gotten really good! I hit all the cans yesterday!” the teen said defensively. 

“I know, I know. I saw,” Elvira chuckled, and smiled. 

Grimstone smiled faintly in return. Sure, she was a weird old lady sometimes, but he was glad he had at least one family member that liked him around. 

It wasn’t long until they pulled into the parking lot of a warehouse near the pier. There was a large boat with a dark green tarp over its semi-exposed cargo. Grimstone recognized the familiar generators. There were two rugged looking seagulls standing outside a small building nearby.

“Stay in the truck,” Elvira ordered. Grimstone didn’t understand; why bring him if she was only going to make him wait in the truck? He grumbled lowly but did as he was told--for now. 

Grandma hopped out of the truck and headed to the building beside the dock. “Right, boys. The usual deal?” She looked up at the two much taller birds. 

“Actually, the arrangement is going to be a little different. The boss is here today and wants to change some things,” one of the seagulls explained. He directed a hand to the door of the building. 

Elvira’s eyes narrowed as she proceeded to enter. She had a feeling their “boss” was up to something. “Well, you old bastard, what do you want now?” she growled.

Scrooge sat behind a desk in the office, lazily puffing a cigar. “Me? Nothing,” he replied. “The price stays the same for you. I just need to know why you require so many of these generators. Powering a whole city up there, are you now?”

“You keep selling me crap I need to keep replacing. That's why,” she lied somewhat. At least two previous generators she had to mod and repair herself. 

“You haven’t found anything interested in that cesspool, have you?” Scrooge inquired, shifting and turning his chair halfway around. He looked out the window at her truck.

“Nothing you’d care about,” Elvira muttered, “and I prefer my home not be called a ‘cesspool’, thank you.” 

“Why stay on a useless swamp that barely has any fertile farmland? You’ve always been hiding something. Before we can finish this transaction I need to know what that is,” Scrooge insisted, not turning back around.

“There isn’t anythi--” Elvira started to raise her voice but was interrupted by one of the seagulls practically throwing a familiar fourteen year old to the floor. 

“Hey, boss, we found this kid snooping around,” one seagull explained.

“I wasn’t snooping around! I was literally standing at the rail of the dock looking out at the water, you idiot! I--” As soon as Grimstone started to get to his feet, he noticed the duck sitting behind the desk and froze. 

Elvira momentarily took his sudden silence as him worried she was mad. “Grim! I told you to stay in the truck,” she said, walking over to her grandson. She stopped then, and realized the kid wasn’t upset. Something far worse. He looked panicked, terrified, frightened. 

At the sound of Grim’s voice, Scrooge spun his chair back around, facing forward. His surprised look melted into an oily, insidious smirk.

“Well, if it isn’t my lucky charm. Wondered where you went off to. Been a while, hasn’t it?” Scrooge stood from his chair, cane in hand, and stalked around the desk.

Grandma Coot didn’t need to know the history between these two. Grimstone had a run-in with Scrooge at some point between his parents passing and joining the gang of kids, and it obviously had left the most painful scars. She quickly stepped in between the two, snapped, “I don’t think so. We’re leaving. Keep your generators.”

Grimstone, still stunned, went to join his Grandma. Before he could move, one of the guards grabbed Elvira from behind. She fought, fists flailing, before her arms were pinned down to her sides.

Grimstone backed up against the opposite wall. 

“You’ll be leaving without the lad,” Scrooge explained. “Trust me, once you know what he is you wouldn’t want to take him with you.”

“Don’t you lay a finger on him!” Elvira growled and snarled. Though her arms were trapped, she furiously kicked back at the seagull holding her. 

Scrooge could only chuckle as he approached the cowering boy. “It seems I made quite an impression on you.”

“I’ll go with you. Just please don’t tell her,” Grimstone muttered.

“Oh no, sonny. She needs to know what you are or else she’ll try to come get you. Like she used to try with all the other brats,” Scrooge taunted. He pressed his cane handle under Grimstone’s chin, just getting a whimper from the boy. He drew back the cane, bringing it down on Grimstone’s head. 

Grimstone tumbled to the floor. He scrambled to get up, on hands and knees when Scrooge hooked his cane around his neck and violently yanked. The boy took a sharp breath like he had been drowning for those brief seconds. “Open up, and then I’ll let her go. Hm?”

At first the young duck didn’t do anything. His head was swimming. His mind jumped to the night Scrooge had exposed his secret to the rest of the family. To Matilda, the woman who’d taken him in, to all the cousins near his age. He lost everything after that, and he was going to lose it all over again.

Grim was brought back to reality when Scrooge pulled on his neck with the cane. He saw his Grandma fighting furiously to get out of the guard’s arms. He couldn’t let her get hurt, even if it meant losing the last family member he had on his side. 

With a strained sob, Grimstone’s beak split down his cheeks. Past the orange and into the feathers, and down his neck appeared a row of teeth, opening like a second mouth. This was only a small glimpse of the truth, but he didn’t want to ruin the sweater his Grandma had so lovingly made him.

Though his torso rumbled, shifted, he made sure the extra toothy mouth opened wide on his bill and neck. He was sure Scrooge wouldn’t ask him to show more. 

“See, looks like Daphne had a little monster. So, how about my employees load you up with two generators--no charge this time. Can’t say I’m not gener--” When Scrooge looked up from Grim to his Grandmother, he was in for another surprise. 

Elvira had the same wide row of fangs split open past her cheeks. Not only that, but feathered tendril-like limbs were coming out each sleeve of her blouse alongside her arms. The fleshy vines grabbed around the seagull’s arms. With a squeeze and a bend, the guard had to let go. Scrooge’s cane was still hooked on Grimstone’s neck when the old mallard tugged on it again. The teen, while still consumed with emotional dread, was elated by what he saw. 

His Grandma was like him? Why didn’t he realize that was a possibility before? His mother had been like this too. Not until this moment had he finally put two and two together. 

“Oh, I see. The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree,” Scrooge’s voice seemed calm, “then, let's make another arrangement. How about--”

There wasn’t any negotiating, as Elvira’s tendrils wrapped around the stunned guard that was loosely holding her. She was able to lift his body with the monstrous limbs and toss the seagull right at Scrooge. Both crashed through the window and into the water outside. 

Grimstone would have been dragged with Scrooge too, but spare tendrils held him tight, plucking off the cane.

Grandma Coot then grabbed Grim’s upper arm with her hand. She quickly made him run with her to the truck. One of her tendril’s was putting the key in the ignition and turning it while her hands checked the wound on Grimstone’s head. He had curled up on himself in the passenger seat, still not knowing what to make of the situation. By reflex, Grimstone stiffened and his exposed openings of teeth closed up. 

Elvira gave him a soft smile before taking the wheel, tendrils retracting back up into her sleeves.

“I had thought Donald would inherit the curse. But of course it would be you. Looks like I have a lot more to teach you than just shooting,” she said, as if this was the only way she could comfort him. Accepting him. She hit the gas and drove off like a bat out of Hell.

Grimstone had so many questions now. Questions he was sure he’d get answers to later. That she was like him. He uncurled and got comfortable, easing back and relaxing, as if nothing was wrong. He wasn’t exposed as a monster, because she was one too. In that moment, strangely enough, it meant they were still family.

“So, uh… Can we still stop for that ice cream?”

------

Thanks again to @cataradical for beta ahhhh.

This came up with the prompt cuz I could picture my Nega Grandma duck saying 'Dreadful' to Scrooge with the same energy as that Kim Kardashian tragic gif. loool.

[meangirlsx]

Stupid With Love

Pairing: Cady Heron x reader Word count: 1947 Warning(s): None Request: “Would you mind doing a Lydia x Reader (or Cady x Reader if you still write for Mean Girls) during the holidays? Christmas perhaps? Also, happy October 3rd!” and “This isnt technically holiday themed but, could you do Cady x reader with Cady seeing and playing in the snow for the first time?” Note: Here is a Cady piece in honor of Erika’s final day.

——

You and Cady hadn’t known each other that long. She was new to school, and school had only started a few months ago. But you were close with Janis and Damian, so when they befriended her, so did you.

You spent some time together when all four of you hung out. But after a couple weeks, she’d started asking to hang out just the two of you, too. So you’d gotten pretty close over the last few months.

And you had been crushing on her pretty much the entire time, but you hadn’t told anyone. Not that you really needed to. Janis and Damian figured it out in about three days and always found a reason to bring it up when it was just the three of you. They always encouraged you and got excited every time you and Cady hung out alone.

The closer the holidays got, the more excited they got. So when you invited Cady over on the first weekend in December, your group chat with Janis and Damian was blowing up.

You did your best to ignore it while you and Cady talked. You forgot all about your texts coming in when you saw her run to the living room window

“Is that snow?” she asked, her voice full of enthusiasm.

You followed her to the window and saw that the first snow of the year was, in fact, falling.

“It is! Is this your first snow?”

“It definitely is. It’s even prettier than I imagined.” Then she turned to face you. “Can we go outside?”

“Of course we can!”

Without another thought, she was racing for the door.

“Cady!” you called and grabbed her arm quickly.

“What?”

“Don’t you want to put your coat on?”

She laughed lightly. “Oh. Yeah.”

Her parents had made sure they bought winter attire when they moved. But as you got dressed up to go out into the snow, you noticed that Cady only had her coat and boots.

“Cady, did you bring a hat or gloves or anything?”

“No. I didn’t expect it to snow.”

“No problem! You can borrow some of mine. We have plenty of extras.”

You brought out the box your family kept of gloves, mittens, hats, headbands, and scarves. She picked out a pair of mittens, a hat, and a scarf.

You opened the door and watched as the look on her face turned to awe. She was bounding into the snow with a grin before you could blink.

“It’s so soft!” Cady shouted.

“This is the good kind of snow. We call it packing snow. It’s softer and easier to play with. For example…” You picked up a handful of snow and balled it up.

Cady’s eyes lit up. “Snowballs!” She immediately started making one, too, then backed up and stared at you. “Wait. Isn’t this supposed to turn into a fight?”

You couldn’t help but smile at that. “It doesn’t have to.”

She seemed to think about it for a moment, and then her snowball was flying through the air. You continued to throw snowballs at each other until you heard geese honking overhead.

Cady gasped and looked up at the sky with wide eyes. She watched silently for a moment before throwing herself backwards into the snow. You laughed as you joined her.

“They’re so beautiful,” she said. “My mom and I used to play this game, back in Kenya. We would close our eyes and name all the birds we could hear. We don’t do that now, but moments like these…I don’t know. It sort of feels like a piece of home.”

“That’s so sweet.” You looked at her.

She looked back at you, then down at her hands with your mittens. “Thank you for letting me borrow these. My hands would be so cold right now if you hadn’t.”

“Of course. It’s really no problem.”

“Oh! But we need to take a picture!” She removed one glove and dug her phone out of her pocket.

You moved closer for the picture, and Cady leaned against you. As she took a few photos, you noticed just how happy she looked.

To you, it was a normal day at the start of winter. It wasn’t terribly cold, but you were definitely starting to feel it. The sun only peeked out from behind the clouds on occasion. Even the geese were a normal occurence to you.

But it was all new to Cady, and she loved every second of it. Especially the geese.

“We should go inside,” you said, standing and holding your hand out to help her up. “We can make hot chocolate, if you want.”

“Oh!” Cady grabbed your hands. “That reminds me! Can we go to Starbucks sometime? I’ve always wanted to try their Venti Chai.”

“Of course! Do you want to go now?”

“Not really.” She smiled at you. “Hot chocolate sounds perfect.”

So you spent the rest of the day talking, watching movies, and drinking hot chocolate.

On Monday, you got up early so you could stop at Starbucks before school. You wouldn’t have minded being able to sleep later, but Cady was more than worth it.

When you arrived at school, you found her at her locker. She smiled when she saw you, then got confused when you held a coffee cup out to her.

“You said you wanted to try a Venti Chai, right?” you asked.

She made a sound that was a mix between a squeal and a gasp and threw her arms around you. You did your best to hug her back while holding two cups and trying not to spill.

“That’s so sweet of you!” she said, taking her cup from you. “Thank you!”

“Just be careful. It’s hot.”

“How much do I owe you?”

You shook your head. “Nothing. It’s on me.”

“What’s on you?” Janis’s voice came from behind you.

You turned to see her and Damian joining the group.

“Is that fancy coffee?” Damian asked. “At this hour? Someone loves you.”

Cady bounced on her toes and smiled. “It’s a Venti Chai from Starbucks. Y/N got it for me.”

“You’ve been wanting to try that,” Janis said and sent a small smirk in your direction. “That’s so nice.”

“That is so thoughtful,” Damian added, leaning against Janis and emphasizing every word.

“Isn’t it?” Cady said. “I should get to class. But thank you. Seriously.” She gave you a kiss on the cheek and headed down the hall.

You stood there frozen for a second.

You couldn’t quite make out what they were saying, but Janis and Damian were anything but calm.

In your second class of the morning, the candy cane grams began, with Damian in a Santa suit. He handed you one with a wink before handing out the others.

You opened the little note addressed to you.

Thank you for the Venti Chai! I loved it! We should get more sometime. Maybe this weekend? xoxo, Cady

You smiled up at Damian before he left the room, and he smiled back. Before your teacher could finish calming everyone back down, you pulled out your phone and sent a text to Cady.

Friday after school? Homework and Chais?

She texted back almost immediately. It’s a date!

The words It’s a date echoed through your head until lunch, where you found Janis and Damian and thankfully not Cady, yet.

You showed them Cady’s note and text.

“Is it a date?” you asked.

Damian scrunched up his face. “Oh, that might be my bad. I just taught her that expression and she loved it. So I think we could take it either way.”

Cady began walking over, so you didn’t have time to say anything else.

You tried not to think about it too much before Friday. You didn’t want to assume and get your hopes up if it wasn’t going to be a date, but you didn’t want to ask and embarrass yourself if it wasn’t, either. The closer it got to Friday, the more Janis and Damian insisted they thought it was a date, but you were pretty sure they were just trying to be supportive. So you figured you would follow Cady’s lead and see how things went.

Things had seemed pretty normal all week leading up to it, and even on your way to Starbucks after school on Friday.

You found a table and began to take out your homework.

“Um…” Cady said quietly.

You looked up and noticed that she suddenly looked nervous. “Are you okay? Is something wrong?”

You tried to ignore the thought in the back of your head saying that it was supposed to be a date and she was starting to regret that.

“I’m fine,” she said, and smiled, easing your tension. “I just wanted to give you this before we start.” She reached into her backpack and pulled out a small canvas painting that seemed to be one of Janis’s.

You took it and turned it over. It was the two of you in the picture she’d taken outside the previous weekend.

“I had Janis paint it. Two, actually. One for you and one for me. It just felt like such a special moment. And I felt bad so I wanted to try again.”

You looked up at her. “What do you mean?”

“Last Saturday, I felt like we maybe...connected...more? And I got really excited about that. And when you brought me the Chai, I thought maybe you really did like me back. So I wanted to send you something cute in the candy cane gram to ask you out, but I got scared and I tried to be cool and casual because I realized maybe I should be asking you in person and I ended up sending you something totally unclear and I just... “ She gestured to the painting in your hands. “This is us. This is going to be one of my favorite memories ever, and one of my favorite memories of us. I want to remember that as some sort of start for us. Not me getting scared and trying to backtrack.”

Your could feel your heart racing. “You don’t have to feel bad about anything.” You looked down at the painting, then back up at her. “So you did mean for this to be a date?”

She nodded. “I wanted it to be. But I’ve never really done this before and I really like you and I don’t want to mess it up.”

“I really like you, too. And I don’t want to mess it up, either. I was scared to ask you if this was supposed to be a date because I didn’t want to make you feel bad or make things awkward or embarrass myself if it wasn’t supposed to be one.”

“So we were both too nervous to be honest?”

You nodded. “I don’t think we’re messing anything up. We’re just...really nervous.”

Cady smiled and seemed to relax. “So, this is a date then?”

You leaned in closer to her. “Are we totally lame if we do homework together as our first date?”

“Maybe,” she laughed. “But that seems pretty us.”

“It kind of does, doesn’t it?” You laughed, too.

“I’ll get the Chais?” Cady said as she stood.

You reached for your wallet, but she waved her hand at you.

“No, no. Let me.” She gave you one more smile before heading toward the counter.

You watched her for a moment, then pulled out your phone to text Janis and Damian.

You knew?!

Damian replied first. To be fair, I didn’t know until this morning when Janis gave Cady the painting.

Then Janis. Enjoy your first daaaaate!

——

Tag list: @reader-ships, @anxiousankylosaurus, @msmith74, @broadwaymusicaltrash, @you-thinks-wrong-romeo, @theatricalwriter, @be-more-heidi-hansen, @peachy-jolly, @g1ngersp1ce, @trumancheerleadermaui, @dancewyou, @percabeth15, @coral-cat-iris, @madameboxhead, @elaineygrace, @theolwebshooter, @dontgotothenetherworld

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[ugly-crying-over-bucky-barnes]

Roguish Women Part 25

Summary: Kate Rosseau is an American who fled to Paris to escape her past life. Now she's dancing and playing the part of a courtesan at the Moulin Rouge. There she meets Tommy Shelby who thinks she can be useful in expanding his empire. But has he been blinded?

Part 25: Everything’s closing in on Tommy and he knows he needs to act.

           Tommy stepped into his study to find Alfie standing by the window in a wide-brimmed hat.

“Good morning, Alfie.” He made a beeline to the liquor cart.

The man didn’t turn around as he answered. “Yeah it is. Nice little place you got here, Thomas.” He remarked and turned around, relying on his cane to walk over. “Pleasant staff, s’well. Concerned ‘bout you, they are, said you’re not supposed to drink. What did your housekeeper say? That your head is like some smashed vase that’s been stuck back together by a horse. That right?”

Tommy didn’t say anything as he poured himself a glass of whiskey and went to sit down.

“So why’m I here, aye? Which problem of yours do you want me to come in and wave me magic wand for? ‘Cause word ‘round London is you’ve got a lot of fucking problems, mate. Lot of fucking problems. And as much as I know you enjoy me company, I can bet a lot of money that this visit wasn’t just to say hello.” Alfie sat down as well.

“You’re correct.” Tommy needed Alfie’s help, in order to secure that, he knew he needed to appeal to the man. This wasn’t the time for their famous face-offs with guns and threats.

“You’ve lost control, haven’t you, hm?” He rested his hands on the top of his cane, his rings on full display. “’Bout time innit? You’ve been hanging on to a thread for quite some time, haven’t you?”

Tommy downed his whiskey and set the crystal glass on his desk. “I’ve got control, Alfie, you don’t have to worry about that.”

“That right?” Alfie raised an eyebrow in skepticism. “Tell me then, oh wise one, d’you even know if she’s still alive?”

Somehow, the information about Kate had been passed to Alfie. Tommy couldn’t exactly remember how; his memory was still spotty. He couldn’t remember if he had sent a telegram before the injury, or he’d told Ada to send word. It didn’t matter. He pulled out a piece of paper from inside his jacket pocket. Notes he’d gotten from one of his men in America. “Twenty-six Prince Street, Boston, Massachusetts. It’s a four-story brick townhouse across from a church and a park. She takes a walk every morning around seven down the street to the docks. She leaves right before he leaves for work.”

Alfie narrowed his eyes. It was some relief to hear Kate was still alive, but that didn’t mean she was safe. “Yeah? Think you’re smart with that little information, aye? What do you plan on doing ‘bout it?”

“You help me with business here and the second it’s done; I’ll go over to America. When Kate’s on her walk, I’ll kill him for invading my territory, putting his hands on a woman, and threatening my life and the lives of my family. It’s up to Kate whether she wants to come back or not.”

Alfie leaned back, flexing his fingers with a dissatisfied look. “By a thread, Tommy, you’re hanging on by a thread. Can see it in your eyes. But, since I’m such a giving fellow, I’ll help you out with whatever madness you can cook up. You ain't the only one who wants that fucker dead.”

The corner of Tommy’s lips turned up a bit. “Very well. Let’s bring in the rest of the troops.”

~~~~~~~~~~

Kate didn’t mind the wind. She didn’t mind the chilling sting it whipped across her cheeks. She didn’t mind her hair getting mussed up. She didn’t mind because the wind came from the ocean. It carried the salt-scent through the air and made her feel alive again. It reminded her of the times her mother took her to Revere Beach in the summer. The water was brutally cold pretty much year-round. But that never stopped her from wading along the shoreline, gathering shells or hermit crabs.

The ocean made her feel young. It made her feel nostalgic. It made her feel sad.

The ocean had taken her father. Stumbling drunk, he had fallen into the ocean and drowned. His body washed up two days before her eighteenth birthday. That’s when she was training to be accepted into a ballet company. And to raise funds, she stole her father’s identity to conduct business. Illegal business.

Kate thought about this on her way to the ocean’s edge. It was something she could be thankful for, that she now lived so close to the water’s edge. It was less than a mile’s walk down the street from the apartment. From there, she followed the ocean, walking along the sidewalk that led to various parks. She would find a place to sit to look out over the harbor and watch boats pass by.

She thought about all the things she didn’t tell Tommy. All the lies she kept.

Still, she wasn’t too caught up in her thoughts to neglect her surroundings. No, she’d been mindful of her environment for weeks. Mostly because she was nearly positive someone was following her. Well, three men, actually. And one of them looked sneakily familiar.

One of those men, the tall one with sandy blond hair, was following her.

Kate wasn’t scared. Hell, she was already in a life or death situation every day of the week. Someone tracking her in broad daylight wasn’t anything to be scared of. But she was very curious. And that day, she would get her answer.

Kate stopped at a railing that overlooked the wharf. She rested her arms on the top rail, keeping her eyes out over the dark gray-blue ocean. She waited until the man was close enough.

He paused at the railing at a good distance from her. Pulling out a cigarette, he looked like just a normal bystander. But she knew better. “Y’know, you ought to tell Tommy to be a bit more discrete.”

At the sound of his employer’s name, the man jerked his head in her direction and completely blew his cover.

She raised an eyebrow at him. “Besides, I recognize you from being around the betting shop. He should’ve picked people who I never met. I would think that would be his first criteria.”

The man swallowed and approached her cautiously. “Miss Lynch, Mr. Shelby was just…”

Kate sighed. “I know what he’s doing. I guess I don’t blame him.” She admitted. Seeing how uncomfortable the man looked, she figured he wasn’t meant to be talking to her. “What’s your name again?”

“Patrick, ma’am.” He answered.

“That’s right.” She nodded. “It’s alright. I’m not going to tattle on you.” She smiled weakly and bit her lip. It felt wrong to even talk to him though. She had made her decision, what good was it to lead Tommy on? To give him false hope? But she couldn’t help herself. “How is he?”

Patrick’s brow furrowed as he frowned. “Well, he was roughed up pretty bad couple of months ago.” He admitted. “Had to get brain surgery, they weren’t sure if he were even gonna make it at first.”

Kate’s heart dropped. “What?” She gasped in shock.

“S’alright now. ‘Least that’s what he says over the telephone.

“God…” She held a hand to her mouth in disbelief. “How did it…” But Kate paused. She wasn’t sure she wanted to know what trouble Tommy was getting into. Would it only make her hurt more? Would it make her want to go back even when she knew she couldn’t? Everything in her wanted to know who put Tommy in the hospital. She wanted to make them pay. But it was just in her nature, as well as having so much frustration and anger pent up in her that she was ready to fight anyone.

“Miss?” Patrick noticed her eyes went a bit glassy as she looked past him.

“I’m okay.” She blinked a few times and shook her head. “So, what’s his plan with you?” She wondered.

“Well, he’s got business to finish up back home.” The young man looked uneasy telling her anything. He’d been under strict orders not to say anything. But he didn’t expect her to even notice they were watching her. “Said he would come over here to give us the rest of the money for the job. Other than that, he didn’t say.”

Kate felt like her heart was in her throat. “Well…that can’t happen.” She suddenly felt panicked that Tommy was making a plan to come to her rescue. And she had learned a while ago that once he made a plan, he stuck to his guns. What could she do to stop him all the way in America? "He can't-"

“Kate!” A woman called down the street, interrupting the thought.

Suddenly, Kate began to realize she was still in Santo’s territory. Suspicion would be raised if word got around that she was talking to a mysterious man. She couldn't talk to anyone without everything she said getting back to him. “Tonight, I’m going to need a letter on this bench.” She whispered to Patrick. “Take it and get it to Tommy, somehow.”

“But…”

“Go, go!” She shooed him off and turned to see who was calling to her. Patrick slipped away, with his hands in his pockets.

Anita, the dressmaker approached from down the sidewalk. “Dear, I’m so glad I ran into you.”

“Everything okay?” Kate smiled. She liked the company of the woman who was making her wedding dress. Even though the wedding was the last thing Kate wanted to think of, Anita made it a pleasant experience.

“Yes! I’m almost finished with the bodice of your dress. Isn’t that exciting?” Anita smiled, assuming it would be a happy moment for the bride-to-be.

After hearing the news about Tommy, Kate’s heart was already in pieces. So, the news didn’t help. “Oh, Anita, that’s-” Her voice broke and she couldn't say anything more.

The woman frowned in concern. “What’s wrong, hun?”

“I just, I’m overwhelmed with everything right now.” Kate tried to brush off her response as something a harried bride would say.

“That’s understandable. Weddings are so much work. But it’ll all be worth it in the end.” Anita promised, lightening up a bit. “Well, I have to run. Come by soon to try on the bodice, make sure it fits right.”

“I will, thanks.” Kate sighed under her breath and turned back to the ocean. She felt like she was drowning.

~~~~~~~~~~

“Mr. Shelby?”

Tommy was in the foyer, finishing putting on his cufflinks. It was the morning the orphanage was opening in Birmingham. Despite everything that happened, Tommy decided to keep Grace’s name on the foundation. After all, it was her effort and passion. It wouldn’t be fair to take it from her.

“Yes, Mary?”

Tommy’s maid came into the foyer with a slip of paper. “Telegram came for you.”

“Thank you, could you call the car around?”

“Of course.”

Tommy read over the address the telegram had come from.

Boston, Massachusetts. Patrick McCormick.

Kate recognized me. Wanted to send you a message. Freedom. Beauty. Truth. Love. Stay where you are, Nature Boy. Your family is your greatest thing. Said you’d know what it meant.

Tommy felt lightheaded. It could’ve been because he was mostly subsisting on cigarettes and whiskey those days. “Fuck.” He whispered as he rubbed his weary eyes. He should’ve known Kate would recognize Patrick. He knew how perceptive she was and knew they had met at one point.

Maybe he’d wanted this. Maybe that’s why he sent Patrick. He knew Kate would recognize him. That would alert her that he was still thinking of her. Convey that he was going to bring her home.

He sighed and tucked the telegram into his inside jacket pocket. He needed to get this plan done. There was no telling what might happen to Kate if he took any longer. And with every passing day, Tommy felt more and more hellbent on killing Santo Leoni. The man had lived long enough. "Mary!" He called. "Need you to send a telegram for me!"

///Next chapter is when everything really heats up. That slow burn is gonna get REAL HOT

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Masterpost

PB Masterlist

[rumbelleshowdown]

Author: Blue Stiletto

Prompt:  Light; lost in the mail.

Group: C

-

Return to Sender

Belle pulled open the mailbox door, the sharp squeak of metal on metal jolting her like an electric shock.

Immediately, she closed it again, wincing at the sound and looking up and down the street to see if anyone was around to notice. She looked down at the envelope in her hand, her thumb running back and forth over the stamp, and bit her lip. Two years ago she’d left Storybrooke for bigger, better things in Boston, or so she’d believed. Big cities were exciting, filled with food, entertainment, and culture, but they were also expensive and impersonal. She missed knowing her neighbors and the slow comfort of small town life. When the lease on her city apartment came to an end and she started to wonder what might be next for her, her father’s health took a turn. While he’d be alright in the long run, she didn’t hesitate to pack up and come back.

Her house, which was owned by her father, had been left empty and unsold, which was quite lucky and gave her a familiar and comfortable place to stay once all the dust had been cleared. There was a small stack of mail inside the door, which must have been delivered in the lag time between when she filled out her change of address form and when the postal service registered it in their system. They’d failed to be redirected to her new place in Boston, unbeknownst to her. Most of it was junk, save for some coupons now long expired and a plain envelope mailed from a local address.

It was this envelope that had given her pause.

Before she left, she’d been nursing a substantial crush on the town’s resident enigma, Mr. Gold. Most people didn’t know what to make of him, other than he was rich, owned half of the property in town, including the building that housed the library she’d worked in and the pawn shop across from it that bore his name, and that being on his bad side was the last place anyone wanted to be. She supposed most had never taken the time to get to know him as she had, and thus could not appreciate his acerbic wit and crooked smile for the charming traits that they were. He was well read, but not so much that he didn’t appreciate the satire and silliness of Monty Python, or the raucous good time of a heist movie.

They’d enjoyed both during the Saturday matinee series at the theater downtown, usually followed by burgers at Granny’s and a shared plate of fries. She was foolish enough at the time to think these movie and dinner evenings were a prelude to dating, but she and Gold never seemed to move beyond friendship. Those unrequited feelings were a good part of the reason why she’d taken the job in Boston in the first place. Her heart couldn’t take the longing anymore. and she’d thought that perhaps some time away would give her perspective and allow the feelings to fade.

It hadn’t worked at all.

If anything she’d proven the old saying true: absence makes the heart grow fonder. Her heart was as fond of Gold as ever.

And then she’d opened the envelope.

The glue on the flap of the envelope had dried out and almost given way, exposing a letter inside. The paper was slightly yellowed from age and two summers’ worth of heat, but the words contained within, echoing one of her favorite books, had brought her to this moment.

Before she could hesitate again, she yanked open the mailbox, popped in the envelope, and closed it. As she walked away, she kept looking back, hoping that she’d done the right thing.

-

Gold tucked the small stack of mail under his arm and made his way up the front sidewalk.

He’d hoped Belle French’s departure from Storybrooke for her new life in the big city would allow him to move on from his foolish infatuation. Two years had passed since , and in spite of the time and distance, nothing had changed except now she seemed to be even more beautiful and unattainable. He assumed she might return when her father landed in the hospital, but it appeared she was going to be here for the long haul, and he wasn’t sure how he felt about it. Seeing her in town again meant not only facing his persistent feelings, but also the humiliation of her rejection.

He dropped the mail on the table just inside the door, pausing to remove his overcoat before he moved into the study. A stiff drink seemed to be the order of the evening, and he poured some of his favorite scotch before perusing the pile of bills and flyers. He tossed a few things into the trash, set a couple of items to the side to review later, and then stopped cold when he came to the last envelope.

Return to sender.

Gold swallowed the last of his scotch and contemplated downing three more glasses before he dealt with what he was seeing. Two years ago, days before Belle left for Boston, he’d spent a Sunday afternoon pouring out his heart onto a page, writing all the things he’d never managed to say out loud. It had been impulsive and desperate, an irrational last ditch effort to keep her from leaving him forever.

As soon as he’d dropped the envelope in the mailbox in front of the post office, he wanted to pull it back out.

When days went by with no response, and her plans to move carried on, he took it as a sign. She had read his letter, his pathetic, unwanted confession, and answered it in the clearest way possible. Their weekend movie dates and lunches, the casual chats about books over tea, hadn’t meant to her what they had meant to him. After she left, he resolved himself to the truth that his interest was unrequited , but now that she was back, the old wound was fresh and exposed.

Worse yet, his letter had been returned to him, albeit two years later.

Gold frowned. He supposed it could have been lost in the mail, taking longer than it should have to reach Belle before she left, if it reached her at all. At some point, someone had seen fit to send it back. It had happened to him a few times in his life, things coming back with insufficient postage and such, but never quite like this. A handwritten return to sender across the front was unusual. He turned it over and blinked at the piece of tape holding the flap shut. At some point the letter had been opened. Every signal suggested that it had been received by someone and then sent back on purpose.

He ran a hand over his face and sat back. The handwriting, the timing… Belle had returned his letter. Maybe it hadn’t been lost at all, but hadn’t made it to her in time before she left town. She had probably read it after she returned, and - what? Suddenly, his curiosity overtook his anxiety, and he slid a letter opener beneath the taped edge.

What was inside left him stunned and elated. She’d replaced his letter with one of her own, her words affirming all his hopes and dreams.

Gold slipped the letter into the inside pocket of his suit jacket and pushed to his feet. He didn’t care how overzealous and excited it made him look, Belle’s reply had confirmed that she returned his feelings, and left the door open for more. He’d be damned if he let more time go by before he did what he should have done two years ago. He snatched his overcoat off the rack in the foyer, pulling it on before he yanked open the front door.

He staggered back, holding tight to his cane and the doorframe to keep himself from falling on his arse.

“Belle…”

He blinked and straightened, looking her up and down as his mind tried to catch up to the fact that she was here, on his front porch. She was a vision in her springy green dress, flared at her knees, with a black cardigan to keep the chill at bay. Her hair was pulled back on the sides, shorter than he remembered, and darker, with a hint of chestnut where the late evening sun hit.

“Hey,” she said, smiling. “I, um, I just wondered if you got my letter?”

The corner of his mouth curved crookedly as she stepped closer, her teeth sinking into her bottom lip in a way that was entirely too tempting. “I most certainly did.”

[worryinglyinnocent]

Fic: Save the Last Dance

Summary: Lacey digs a little deeper into her employer’s past, finding out a little-known secret about Mr Gold.

Written for the @a-monthly-rumbelling moodboard prompt, available here.

Rated: T

Save the Last Dance

Although everyone in town said that Mr Gold was an enigma, Lacey had never really believed it herself until she had started working for the man. She could never tell what he was thinking or whether he was serious about any of the threats he made, but she knew better than to push her luck too far.

Lacey’s greatest talent had always been knowing just how far she could get away with pushing, and after working for Mr Gold for three months and knowing no more about him now than she had done at the start – perhaps even less – she decided that she was going to use that talent to learn something, anything, about the man.

It was not out of any desire to profit from her knowledge, merely to satisfy her own curiosity. He was a man wrapped up in so many layers of mystery alongside all his layers of clothing that he was almost impossible to read, and Lacey wanted to know what made him tick. It would make working in the shop alongside him a lot easier if she knew something about him.

She’d always had a sneaking suspicion that she was what made him tick. After all, he wouldn’t have taken her on as an assistant if he didn’t like her at least a little. But nothing he ever did or said whilst they were alone in the shop together ever gave her the slightest indication that he felt any kind of attraction to her, sexual or otherwise, and he certainly never really showed her any kind of affection. Sometimes, given the amount of snark that went back and forth between them, Lacey wondered why he’d even hired her in the first place.

Although, that said, she knew that she would miss the snark if she no longer had it in her life, and it had become an integral part of their… relationship? Friendship? Were they close enough to each other to use either of those words? Lacey knew that she would certainly be happy if that were the case; as infuriating as he could be at times, she couldn’t deny that she had definitely grown more than a little attracted to Mr Gold over the past few weeks.

She sighed. Gold had gone out to fetch their lunch order from Granny’s and she was alone in the shop. It was the perfect opportunity for snooping around and learning what she could. It wasn’t the first time that Gold had left her alone in the shop, and it definitely wasn’t the first time that she’d taken a closer look at some of the stock, but it was the first time that Lacey was undertaking her detective work with a serious goal in her head.

Mind you, she didn’t really know what she was hoping to achieve by looking around the shop. It wasn’t as if Gold kept all that many of his personal belongings here; they were all up at the salmon pink monstrosity he called a house, and Lacey highly doubted that she would ever be in the privileged position of being able to snoop around in there. Still, she might as well take advantage of this time now that she had it.

She wandered over to the old gramophone in the corner, dragging out the record box from underneath it and blowing off the dust. Gold didn’t usually let her play music in the shop; occasionally he might allow the radio but normally she was in headphones. She didn’t even know if the gramophone still worked, but a bit of tinkering had it going, and she set about finding something to play.

This proved slightly more difficult than she was expecting since none of the records were labelled; all of them in plain card sleeves. She grabbed one at random and put it onto the turntable, carefully putting the needle into place.

It was big band music, a swinging, thirties’ style jive, and Lacey raised an eyebrow even as she started to tap her feet to the beat. This was certainly an interesting find, although she didn’t know what it told her about Gold. Before long, she was dancing around the back room. The professionals on Dancing with the Stars definitely didn’t have anything to worry about, and she was glad that no-one could see her.

Actually, Gold might walk in with her lunch at any moment. Lacey stopped dead on hearing his voice and spun around to see him standing in the doorway through to the main shop.

“I didn’t realise that old thing still worked.”

Lacey switched off the music and went over to Gold, taking the paper bags from him and spreading out their lunch over the workbench. She’d already taken a couple of bites out of her sandwich when she realised that Gold was still standing transfixed in the doorway.

“Gold? Are you ok? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” He was definitely paler than usual, his eyes staring off into the middle distance and looking right through Lacey even as she gave him a tentative wave. Eventually he shook himself and came into the room fully, sitting down to eat with her. Lacey paused with a handful of fries halfway to her mouth.

“Are you sure you’re ok?”

“Yes, yes, dearie, I’m fine. It’s just been an awfully long time since I last heard that music, that’s all.”

Lacey didn’t say anything as she continued with her meal, but her brain was clanging pots and pans together and blowing horns inside her head, telling her that this was it and she had finally made the breakthrough that she had been looking for. The gramophone and these records were the key – to what she didn’t yet know, but to something.

It was the first time that she’d seen Gold have a truly emotional reaction to anything, although she couldn’t quite tell what emotion he was feeling. She was onto something here, and further investigation was definitely warranted.

Lacey was never normally one for working any more hours than she absolutely had to, and she knew that Gold would have some kind of quip for her when he saw that she’d got to the shop first, but sometimes detective work required some sacrifices. She began to paw through the box of records again, putting another one on the turntable. This one was slower, Latin.

Lacey counted beats on her fingers. Was it rumba? It was music to dance to at any rate, a close, paired dance evocative of sultry summer nights. She closed her eyes and swayed in time with it until the sudden cut-off startled her out of her trance. Gold was standing by the gramophone, his expression unreadable.

“Morning, Mr Gold. I just thought I’d investigate some more of these old records, since they seem to have been here for such a long time.”

“Please don’t.” Gold took the record off the turntable and slipped it back into its sleeve.

“OK. Why not?”

“Just don’t! Now clean up in here and get to work, it’s inventory day as you well know.”

Lacey was about to point out that the records were part of the inventory and it would make sense for her to continue her investigation, but she sensed that she was on the brink of overstepping a boundary and she left well alone.

Gold gave off a distinctly frosty air until lunch, when he heaved a huge sigh just as Lacey was getting ready to go to Granny’s.

“I’m sorry about earlier.”

Lacey stopped in her tracks. Gold had never yet apologised for shouting or snapping at her, and neither had she to him.

“That’s ok.”

“The music just brings back painful memories that I don’t want to revisit. But if you want to listen to the records, you’re welcome to take them home with you.”

Lacey shook her head. “Nothing to play them on.”

“Then you can take the gramophone as well. I’ll get Dove to bring it over tonight.”

“Mr Gold, are you sure?” She wanted to ask who are you and what have you done with Gold? “It must be worth a fortune.”

“It’s yours if you want it,” Gold said firmly.

“OK then… Thank you very much.”

Lacey made her way to Granny’s, not entirely sure that she wasn’t stuck in the middle of a very strange dream.

Gold was as good as his word, and Dove delivered the gramophone and records that evening. Lacey spent the next week slowly working her way through the collection. It was only once she opened the last record sleeve that she pieced together the truth.

It did not contain a record. Inside were scattered photographs – some professional prints, some clipped from newspapers, all of them of the same couple, frozen in the middle of a waltz or cha-cha. The woman she didn’t recognise, but there was no mistaking that the man was the Mr Gold of thirty-odd years ago.

Lacey hurriedly shuffled the photos back into the record sleeve. He couldn’t have known that they were in there; there was no way that he would let anyone see that part of his past.

Part of her was telling her not to mention it, that what he didn’t know couldn’t hurt either of them. The other part was convincing her that she ought to return the photos to their rightful owner. Lacey sighed. It was probably time to do the grown-up thing for once.

Gold seemed to be in a good mood when she walked into the shop the next morning, although she didn’t know how long that would last after she had said her piece.

“Mr Gold? I think that these belong to you.”

She handed over the record sleeve with the photos in, and Gold looked confused for a moment until he looked inside. The ghost of a smile appeared on his face.

“So, that’s where she put them,” he murmured. “I knew that she must have hidden them somewhere.” He looked up. “Thank you, Lacey.”

Lacey shrugged. “Well, it wasn’t like I had any use for them.” She paused, wanting to probe further now that she had this opening, but scared of the shutters slamming down in her face. He was looking at one of the photos now, from the bright red dress and low dip, Lacey guessed that it was a tango or paso doble.

“So…” she began hesitantly. “You used to be a professional dancer?”

Gold nodded. “It was a long, long time ago.”

“I guess I know why you quit.” She glanced at his cane, resting against the workbench. “Your partner’s beautiful. What’s her name?”

“Her name was Belle,” Gold said softly. “She was my fiancée as well as my partner. I lost her at the same time I got this.” He tapped the cane. “I always vowed that I’d never dance with anyone but her. I didn’t realise that it would be literally.”

Lacey reached across and touched his trembling hand. “I’m so sorry.”

It was time to leave well alone, and she came out into the main shop to open up, setting up behind the counter with her phone until custom arrived. Morbid curiosity had her open up Youtube and slip her headphones in. Surely some video footage must exist. She typed Cameron Gold ballroom dance into the search bar and waited for it to load on the shop’s shaky wifi. The third result down showed what she wanted.

1999 National Championships – Cameron Gold and Belle Marchland – Viennese Waltz

The footage was grainy but still mesmerising to watch, both of them flying around the floor as if their feet were barely touching the ground.

“You remind me of her sometimes.”

Lacey looked over her shoulder guiltily to see Gold standing there. He didn’t look put out, more just amused.

“She was ridiculously stubborn, just like you. Tenacious like nothing else.”

At least that sort of solved the mystery of why he’d hired her.

“She’s a much better dancer than I am.”

“I think that goes without saying. But I appreciate you for your own merits now.”

Lacey was a little taken aback by this confession.

“I wasn’t aware that I had any merits.”

“Of course you do. You’re committed, you don’t take any nonsense from anyone, including me, you’re independent and resourceful, and although you like to pretend that you’re brash and that you don’t care, there’s a wonderfully compassionate soul underneath it all.”

Lacey swallowed. “Do you like me, Mr Gold?”

He nodded slowly. “I know that I don’t have much to offer you except bitterness and sarcasm.”

“I don’t mind a little bitterness and sarcasm.” Lacey bit her lip. It was only comparatively recently that she’d started thinking about him in that way, but the more she learned, the more she was drawn towards him. “Maybe you can find a new partner to dance with after all. Even if this one has two left feet.”

“I think I can work with that.”

The kiss that they shared was chaste and tentative, everything still raw and tender in the aftermath of learning about Belle, but Lacey liked to think that it had promise in it.

She smiled and leaned in to kiss him again. It seemed as if Gold, stuck in the past for so long, was finally looking to the future, and Lacey was happy to be a part of it.