#truly this project is 'every few months you will lose several days of your life to working on a spreadsheet.'

[hua-fei-hua]

at this point i should probably put smth like "amateur fandom data scientist" somewhere on my blog, but the exciting part abt that is i have no idea where it should go

[cinnamonest]

Xingqiu - Yandere Profile

I actually just got my sweet bookworm boi to his next to last ascension, my hydro baby, my angel, I love him even if bc of him I have to marathon fight the oceanid

I’ve had a lot of reqs for him & Chongyun dating back to January again lol but it only felt right to wait until I finished both so I could release them at the same time, so, Chongyun’s will be up immediately after this!

=======================

TWs: fem reader, yandere, confinement, manipulative behaviors, mentions of homicide, gaslighting, Xingqiu being a spoiled arrogant brat

TWs (below cut): noncon/dubcon, manipulating and guilting reader into sex, overstimulation, fluids/cumplay, humiliation 

Since there's no canonical age but he has a bit of the rounded young face I'm tagging with the sh*ta tw as well!

=======================

Severity Scale

Intelligence/Perceptiveness: 7 Brutality: 3 Physical capability: 4 Mental/emotional instability: 6 Restrictiveness: 7 Sexual sadism: 5 Stubbornness: 8

What are they generally like? Lucid, aware? Obsessive? How do they behave?

Tries to buy his way to you, initially. He's grown up seeing the power that money holds over people, and, well, his father can always just wave a bit around and get whatever he wants from most people, so why should you be any different? He goes for stereotypical "girl" things like flowers and jewelry at first, unless you have some prominent and well-known interest, in which case he'll invest in something related to that.

Honestly, for all his chivalry and all that, his maturity is something of a faux one, a sort of projected self-image of the gentlemanly figure he strives to be... but when he lets that slip, he can be something of a childish spoiled brat. The thing is... he's completely unaware and refuses to acknowledge that he can be so immature. He likes getting what he wants, when he wants it, exactly how he wants it, and being denied the things he wants isn't particularly common in his life. So rejection comes not so much as a disappointment so much as a shock. No matter, you're just... a brat, yourself. You think you're too good for everyone, he reasons, so you play hard to get.

Really, after recovering from the initial shock, he realizes he likes things this way. He likes challenges. It would be no fun if you came to him easily. You may be a brat, but in the end, the one thing he refuses to ever do is lose. Chivalrous gentlemen are fine with having to earn their things, so really, he's thankful that you reminded him of his morals, of his desire to truly earn the things he wants. It will make it that much more meaningful.

So he goes heavy on the idea of "courting", following whatever old and prudish traditions may exist in Liyue. If you're from somewhere else, he figures, that could be why -- clearly he hasn't followed through on whatever is normal for your culture. Silly him. He makes an effort to research whatever those traditions may be, and goes to the absolute maximum on performing them. Lavishes you in gifts of all kinds, constantly giving you compliments. He even goes to the effort of, if all else fails, reading romance novels targeted at women to get a better grasp of what exactly you're supposed to like, and emulates those behaviors.

Overall, though, in later stages Xingqiu slightly more mild for a yan, allowing you to have interactions with others (even if he’s irritated), such as his family, family servants, and his friends, and will even take you outside now and then. However, he will cut off your ties to those friends you had before that weren't mutual friends. He's also one of the least likely yanderes to ever kill someone, and will avoid hurting people if possible -- if anything, he prefers more discreet methods like ruining their life socially or financially.

He's also a lot more moody behind closed doors than he is to most people. His attempts to be oh-so-mature eventually kinda crumble, and the more comfortable he becomes around you, the more he lets his immaturity show.

He could assign family servants to looking for you, but really, he prefers to do it himself, this is about love after all, he doesn't want to assign them to a task they would never perform as diligently as he could. But rather than stalking, he chooses to just kind of... stay with you. He's somehow always where you are, "coincidentally" running into you everywhere and then somehow nothing having anything to do, because he clings to you for hours until you finally have to go home, and even then, he'll just follow you to continue the visit there if he can. No point in watching from a distance when he can be right there with you. And again, he's actually surprisingly unaware that his clinginess is so obvious, he's oblivious to how obvious his infatuation is. Which is a bit odd, considering that he's usually fairly perceptive, but he's so confident in the fact that he is normally perceptive that he allows himself to slip into abnormal behaviors without really realizing it, because he's not constantly on guard in the way some less socially adept yanderes are.

On a genuinely sweet level, there's one little thing he keeps hidden from you. He's actually written a lot of love poetry for you, verses about you and all of the things he loves about you so much... Despite usually being fairly confident in his work, he can't bring himself to show it to you. He's too flustered. And considering your negative reactions to his affection (read: not wanting to be kept like a captive animal), he is actually a bit sensitive to that perceived rejection, which further discourages him. He keeps them all stashed away, stuffed into some fairly hidden drawer. Should you ever come across them and bring them up, it's one of a very few things that will genuinely make him super embarrassed, and he'll just insist they weren't about you, even though the details make it obvious they were, and storm off, never bringing it up again.

How likely are they to kidnap their darling? How quickly will they do so?

It's not kidnapping. It's... relocating. He's far too chivalrous to resort to something so brutish as kidnapping! He'll make sure you want to come with him. He can easily arrange for there to be rumors and reports of... occurrences near your home. Criminal activity, maybe false rumors of mysterious disappearances. Hell, he'll get Chongyun to testify that your house has demonic spirits in it. Something to make you want to move out. Maybe some things start happening to you -- you get the feeling you're being watched, you get threatening messages mailed to your home, you have strangers (read: randos who will do anything for some mora he gives them) telling you you're not welcome in the area and to get out. It's all incredibly confusing and scary and you have no idea what brought it all on!

Luckily for you, you have a rich, generous friend who makes it more than clear you're welcome to come stay with him for a while at any time. Eventually, no matter what it takes, he can push you to a point where you'll take him up on that offer. Something feels... oddly ominous about the way the gates to his family estate close behind you once you walk in. Like they're sealing your fate.

And once step one is done, step two of his plan goes into place - make sure you never want to leave. He can make that happen, there's plenty of space here for you to roam, plenty for you to do, and even when he's not there to entertain you, there's plenty of servants to keep an eye on you and make sure that whenever you try to leave, they'll smile and tell you you can't go just yet miss, there's this or that going on tonight! The young master said he had something important for you when he gets back later! You can't go out now, there was just an attack by some deranged person in the town still on the loose! Just... go back inside for now.

Of course, it's wishful thinking, but he likes to maintain the delusion that he can just keep this going indefinitely, that you won't finally one day put your foot down and tell him you've been stuck here nearly a month and you're ready to at least go visit home. He might even entertain it a bit - sure, you can go visit your old house with him and collect some of your old things to bring back with you, but he makes sure to make it look at though whatever problem he made up is still occurring. Nonetheless, if you're insistent, or at whatever point you finally crack and catch on, demand to know what's going on - well, it's not pretty. He gets into something of a tantrum if you don't comply, but ultimately, in his own little huffy, ticked off way, says you can't leave, and that's that, no more questions allowed, and no more of this ridiculous demand to leave. Of course, darling is taken aback at first, even thinking he's joking, but it soon becomes very clear he's completely serious, and intends to enforce that command.

How difficult is it to escape from them? How do they keep you restrained? How do they deal with attempted escape? 

When he's with you, he's tends to be pretty clingy, both physically and in conversation, never ceasing talking about this or that, and he's actually a sleep-clinger as well, keeping an iron grip around your waist when you sleep. So, whenever he's at his home, he insists on you being in his presence, usually physically touching, so you won't really get an opportunity while he's just in another room or something because you can't get any privacy to begin with. When you're in public, he's incredibly watchful over your every move and incredibly clingy then as well, so don't expect such a chance to arrive either.

Thus, your best bet is to try when you're under the watch of guards, whenever he's gone for whatever reason. They've been instructed to watch you from a distance, you see, he doesn't want them interacting with you directly, so you'll have a few chances here or there where they get distracted or their backs are turned. There will likely eventually also be a time where there's a scheduling error, you end up unsupervised! However, physically getting out of the estate is still difficult. There's still posted guards everywhere. So all in all, it's fairly difficult, especially in broad daylight, the only time he's not with you.

When you're inevitably dragged back kicking and screaming by some poor guards that aren't getting paid enough to deal with this, after getting back and hearing the report he deals with it in that unnerving saccharine way of feigning ignorance to try and get a reaction. Now, he knows you weren't trying to get out... right? Surely you got distracted by a bird or something, right? That's the only reason why you'd ever try to leave, right? It's obvious he knows better, and is just fucking with your head, but it's best not to lie. What he wants is an admittance of guilt and an apology, preferably down on the floor begging for forgiveness.

How easy are they to trick, deceive, or manipulate?

Moderate, leaning towards difficult. He's perceptive, and intelligent, but that intelligence is largely a sort of book-smarts type of intelligence. He's generally crafty and a prankster himself, so pulling things over on him is difficult because he's familiar with the mindset and methods of doing so, but he can be tricked if you put on a believable enough act. Basically, a darling who is a good actor stands a much better chance.

However, he's ultimately a learner. You can get away with some tricks or plots once, but he won't fall for the same thing twice. Any sort of escape or deceit you've tried once, he'll make active efforts to guard against and prevent in the future.

Manipulation, though, you can forget it. He's way too proud and stubborn to be emotionally manipulated, in the end getting his way and what he wants takes priority over making you happy, so don't expect to be able to manipulate him based on the notion of something making you happier.

How lenient are they? What privileges can you have, and what will you be denied?

Fairly lenient, actually. You get a lot of access so long as your behavior is good, so really it's wise to be on your best behavior in the long term of things. He can get you anything you want, especially reading material. And you actually get to go outside, yay! He's like my earlier Childe profile on that -- he likes to go on dates, and he's actually really enthusiastic about it! He's big on date planning, wanting to see everything there is to see and do everything there is to do together. The rules are that you just need to be physically attached to him in some way -- you can hold his hand, grab at his sleeves, or he can do so to you (although he'd prefer you cling to him. He likes the image it projects to people around you). He actually gets really hyped about said dates whenever you plan them, he'll talk to you for hours plotting out all the things to do on this particular outing. At one point, his smile drops and his voice goes low and he tells you that, just a reminder, you know the rules for dates, right? ...Good.

Similarly, if you ask, he'll let you accompany him on more trivial outings as well, say if you'd like to go grocery shopping, and he certainly won't turn down a trip to the bookstore. The same rules apply, although he's a bit less excited for something so mundane.

One thing he won't do, surprisingly, is let you have anything to do with Guhua arts or skills. He won't teach you anything he knows nor let you learn, and if you were a follower of it before, he'll cut off your access to any material. His reasoning is that he just doesn't really think anything to do with combat suits you. You're better off learning more passive skills and hobbies.

In reality? He can't stand the thought of you ever being able to present a challenge to him in that sense. It would kill his ego if you ever managed to do something related to the Guhua arts better than he can, or even half as good as he can.

What kind of rules do they have? What kind of punishment would they use?

Well, to occupy your time, he has things that need cleaning you know... Honestly, he's messy, and he's already used to having maids, so he kinda treats you like one to some degree. Of course, he's active in his little heroism adventures, but when it comes to his own living spaces and such things he can be a bit lazy. So, he'll give you tasks to do sometimes, he likes the power rush too that he gets from ordering you around a bit. It soothes the ego.

Outside of your strolls together, you can't be going outside (and you don't get to choose when you do go on your little walks and dates, he does, although he may grant you the wishes of your begging). Also, don't actually try to talk to the guards. They're there to watch you, nothing more, so pay them no mind, and by no means should you ever have a reason to make conversation with them. If there's an emergency or something you need, you may inform them and get help, nothing more. And really, they're more afraid of this rule than you are -- you'll have difficulty finding one even willing to talk to you, they all take the warnings they've been given very seriously.

He eventually gets nitpicky and makes all sorts of little behavioral rules, it's incredibly obnoxious. But honestly, suffering his bratty tantrums is enough of a punishment, even if he didn't usually follow it up with actual punishment, which, for him, tends to be something perverted in some way.

How do they deal with rivals, or perceived rivals? Will they get rid of them? Will they kill them themselves, or find another way?

He actually gets jealous rather easily, often over people who are no real threat. You can never be too nice to anyone -- even after he introduces you to his father and older brother, he expects you to be happy to meet them... but not that much. If you show too much excitement or happiness over any other being, he gets pouty, especially other men, but also your friends, male or female, family, even animals. His first reaction isn't to kill, rather, just an increase in isolation. Drag you back home and make sure you get a lot of time to yourselves, seeks reassurance that you really love him. If it's his own family, he might get grouchy towards them, snap at them a bit, bitterly drag you back off to your own room, where he'll then proceed to get equally grouchy towards you until you have given him enough reassurance he deems sufficient. In his own time, when you're not around, he makes sure to make it perfectly clear to those around him that they aren't to get in between you two.

He's one of the better yans to have in this regard, though, because he's unlikely to resort to killing anyone. He's got too much of his self-image invested in the idea of morals and justice to be able to do so, he can't delude himself into believing it's right or acceptable. It's not impossible to push him to that point, but it wouldn't just be someone you show any positive reception towards -- if Xingqiu did end up killing a rival, it would have to be one for whom you have very blatantly made clear you have actual romantic and sexual affection, someone who poses a genuine, real threat.

Xingqiu is a sort of open book when it comes to jealousy -- it's obvious to everyone around you that he's mad at someone else for even looking at you, and he doesn't try to hide it. It makes him that much angrier if someone doesn't obey his silent demand to stop interacting with you, doesn't seem fazed by his glares and coldness. He'll meet with them privately and make things clear verbally, since he tells himself maybe they're just dense and too stupid to understand. But they only get one more chance. Cross him twice, and they'll likely find themselves in financial ruin after pulling some strings through the connections of his father and brother.

What would make him significantly more likely to kill someone is someone who poses a legal threat, someone who catches on to what's going on and threatens to get him in serious trouble for it. Even if he tried bribing them, well, they'd likely just pretend to accept, and someone so bold likely wouldn't bow to threats.

This is where he can slip into the mindset of a delusional yandere. He once again projects the image in his head, that knight he wants to be for you, and hey, sometimes to save the princess, the heroes in his martial arts epics have to get their hands dirty, have to unfortunately get blood on their hands for the sake of the greater good. And hey, then it's usually called character development. Most of his fictional heroes tend to have killed at least one person in a sort of epic battle to defend something precious to them. This is no different. Of course, ambushing an unarmed person and running them through hardly counts as an epic battle, but he doesn't really take that part into account.

How easy is it to make them mad? What does their anger look like?

Again, a bit of a spoiled brat at times. He's pouty, gives you the cold shoulder, yet dramatically inserts himself in front of you and whatever you're occupied with so you can't do anything. Basically he's forcing you to acknowledge his pouting and ask him what's wrong so that he can pull the "oh, nothing" until you ask again, and maybe he'll eventually bitterly, passive-aggressively make it clear what you did wrong. The bright side is he's easily soothed - an apology and some groveling will fix his attitude pretty quickly, although he'll have an infuriating air of superiority about it all, telling you he's glad you were able to understand what you did and have, hopefully, learned to correct the behavior in the future.

Worse offenses, things that make him genuinely and truly infuriated, are significantly worse, but rather uncharacteristically for him, he's quiet. And that's what's do frightening about it - for once you almost wish he would blabber or complain or whine like you're so used to, but his fury is dead silent. He moves without speaking, harsh motions that will either shove or tug you to wherever he's trying to maneuver you, and he shows how he feels through actions rather than words - he slams doors and objects, stomps, everything about his body language is frightening enough to make you stiffen and jolt.

Thankfully, Xingqiu is a milder yandere when it comes to severity of things he'll do to you in moments of anger -- he's one that can control himself well enough not to severely hurt you, break bones or anything like that. When it comes to his flashes of anger, at worst he might slap you in his tantrums, but he has at least enough self-control and empathy for you to manage better than a lot of yanderes.

So they see you as above them, beneath them, or equal to them?

Below. It's mostly that he thinks rather highly of himself - he's an important person you know. He saves people, he goes around doing his little vigilante thing, and he's not afraid to flaunt sometimes.

If you happen to also be from a rich family, you can earn a little bit more respect from him, you're cultured and sophisticated. If you're intelligent, you can get some validity in his mind as well. He'll still consider himself more intelligent and higher status, something you'd be mindful to remember, but he'll begrudgingly acknowledge it.

A commoner darling, though? God forbid an airheaded one? Forget about getting any respect - you're more like... A cute little puppy to him. Dumb and loud and clumsy, but nonetheless very cute and loveable. You were just... Made to be something of an accessory to him. And he loves and values you, you mean the world to him really, but that's all the more reason why you should accept your place as such.

How determined are they for you to love them? How hard will they try to make it happen? Or are they content just having you?

It drives him up the wall. You know, his father could arrange his marriage to a ton of young rich daughters in Liyue who would be more than happy about it, but he can't get the attention of ONE girl he likes? It's infuriating. And it makes him all the more insistent to have specifically you.

For Xingqiu, it's a mix of both desperation and a pride thing as well. One one hand he desperately does truly want his feelings to be returned, he wants you to love him, he wants the fantasy he has in his head of you two having a long, happy future together. On the other hand, rejection is also a mark on his pride, and that irritates him beyond comprehension.

So don't expect him to ever give up, really. Unlike a lot of loving yans though, he doesn't blame himself, he directs the rejection hurt outward - maybe you're just so spoiled yourself that nothing is good enough for you. Maybe you're just playing hard to get. Maybe you just think constantly turning him down is funny, it's amusing to you, and, well, he doesn't take lightly to you trying to play games with him. So while he'll continue to try and earn your love, don't be surprised if it results in an irritated mood swing every now and then.

Bonus: Is there anything that makes them unique, in comparison to other yanderes?

A lack of desire/hesitancy to resort to violence or more morally wayward methods. He stakes a lot of his pride and self-image on being a chivalrous, upright, just person, someone who should exemplify right and punish wrong, and unfortunately for him he's not a delusional and can't convince himself that he's doing the right thing. He wants to be a gentleman, your knight in shining armor, the storybook hero he projects in his head that always comes to save his princess, who in turn is receptive and showers him in praise and affection and gratitude. You're the problem, you see, you're not following through on your role in all this.

As such, he really, really hates having to dirty his hands in any way, or do anything that he knows is wrong and will consequently drag him into guilt. Not that he can't be driven to it, because he certainly can, but if it reaches that point, that means you didn't cooperate with him to begin with, which would have made things so much easier, so he'll definitely rid himself of that guilt by redirecting the blame to you, or deluding himself into some bizarre justification.

Another thing... his family's compliance. Honestly? His dad is far too busy and far too done with Xingqiu's shit to expect any help from him. His son tends to be picky, whiny, and demanding -- now that you're here, he's finally satiated, finally actually paying attention to the important matters his father wants him to be involved with, finally not causing nearly as much trouble now that you're around. You can bet he's more than happy to put in some extra funds and personnel to restrain some random commoner, so long as his son is satisfied. His brother doesn't really agree with it all, but his brother wants this and his father is supporting it, so... his hands are tied. He turns a blind eye. And the staff, the servants? They're getting paid far too much to care, and besides, the family is incredibly influential -- should they get fired, it could smear their reputation. It’s kinda really discouraging, being surrounded by so many people, but none of them willing to help you.

General perverseness: how sexual of a person are they? What’s their drive like? How touchy do they get? Do they have any reservations about sexuality?

Bounces back and forth. On one hand, he wants to maintain, again, a gentlemanly and sophisticated image, and in his mind, such people don't normally think about such things, don't behave in lewd or degenerate ways. On the other hand, he's a nasty little perv that secretly sinks to the absolute depths of depravity. There's not much he can't get off to. If his poor brother hadn't been so busy being concerned about the martial arts books under his bed, and had dug further, he would have found that those books are actually just a cover-up for a different set of nasty, gross materials he's spent years accumulating -- some of the most vulgar smut you've ever seen, stuff you question how he ever even got ahold of. Surely the book house wouldn't sell this kind of material... it's honestly a mystery how he manages to get so much.

With his first few interactions, he tends to display the former image, but the more time he spends with anyone, the more that inner little pervert side tends to come out. He's definitely one to get touchy, his light grazing little touches become firmer and more daring, his hands always rest just at a point that's right on the boundary of being inappropriate. Sometimes he'll straight-up grope you and pass it off as teasing. He's also like Kaeya in that he intentionally tries to embarrass you by making your mind go to lewd places, making obvious innuendos and euphemisms, then pretending like he doesn't know why you're looking at him like that... oh, is that what you thought he meant? Wow, you must have such a dirty mind, you little pervert.

How forceful are they? Do they care about your willingness?

Something like rape is barbaric! Of course he would never, eeeeever do something so awful, so unbecoming of someone like him. And he really never will. He's another yan that will simply... Secure your consent by whatever means necessary.

In the end he'll most likely guilt trip and gaslight his way into it. I mean, you're staying with him for free, he took you in, he feeds you and clothes you and you can't show one little bit of gratitude? He treats you like a wife and you can't fulfil your end of that role? Don't be selfish. He loves you so much... He'd do anything for you... don't you want him to be happy too?

He'll try different approaches. If seduction doesn't work off the bat, he'll try gaslighting, if that doesn't work, he'll try guilt tripping, if that doesn't work, he'll make up a bizarre lie - he has to have sex or he'll die, somehow! You get the idea. If you really, really, really push it, he may just resort to a vague threat of sorts - nothing too bad or deadly, but hey, it would sure be a shame if this recent market crash affected your family financially... Not that he knows anyone who has power over the local commerce or anything.

With a more timid, soft darling, you're likely to end up essentially... Dubcon'ed. Half-noncon'ed. He just kinda... Slowly goes for it, and at your protests insists no, it's ok, you'll feel good... And a timid darling too afraid to stop him doesn't exactly fight back or resist, so hey, silence is a green light.

What sort of kinks or fetishes do they have, or would they fill?

Experimentation

As I've said, he's a nasty little perv deep down, and he can get off to, well, a LOT of things. And he loves to try new things out, no matter how weird it may be. He's one you can get into a lot of things involving toys and objects, or physical forms of things applied to the body (think temperature play, hot wax, nipple clamps -- anything that has to do with objects being used on you). Part of the fun of it all is having something new that he's never tried before! Even if it turns out to not be his favorite thing, he'll still enjoy the trying it out, and those things he DOES find himself liking, well, he'll just have to add them to the little mental list of favorites.

And he, honestly, enjoys the little reactions you often have to the notions of this or that -- the shock and sudden fear on your face when he tells you today you'll do this or that, and how you shake your cute little head so rapidly. It's not that bad, he promises, and he's done a lot of research and reading to be sure he does things correctly, so no worries!

Body writing

It's kinda comical because you can't make out a word. With his canonically horrendous handwriting, but fondness for the act of writing, it makes for what essentially looks to you like abstract art on your body -- but just know it's the lewdest, most degrading shit you can think of that he'll get all over your thighs and stomach, marking you as his. If nothing else, he gets off to it, and based on the little things he whispers in your ear, you know it's the same sort of humiliating things. If he takes his time, he can write better, but he gets caught up in the heat of the moment.

Lingerie

He's a fan of lacey, frilly things. And he will definitely invest in as many as he can buy, ornate and intricate things, stockings for your legs that have pretty lace patterns at the top of the thigh, bras and panties that are somehow both lacey and perfectly see-through. He's also a big fan of things that have holes in them for easy access, so you can wear it the whole time. And, if he's feeling meaner, he'll definitely have you walk around in just that for a while -- not out where anyone else in the estate could see you, of course, but in his room with him.

Master/slave

He's not a sadist per se, and doesn't really put you in pain, but he loves your submission. And no better way to exemplify submission than with service. The little bastard already makes you act like a maid outside of bed, but now he likes it even more -- there's a certain rush of power to laying out a command and seeing you follow it. Not to mention the cute look on your warm face as you follow though with the degrading shit. Oh, and you'd better believe he gets humiliating. It's not necessarily degrading in the sense that he says or makes you say bad things about yourself, but rather, just the commands themselves, getting on your hands and knees and crawling over to him, and demanding you slowly strip down. Make it cute, give him a show, you know? He won't be cruel in the things he says about you, yet your pride is still wrecked by the end of it all.

Voyeurism/masturbation instruction

He loves to watch you get off, honestly. It ties into the slave thing to a degree, making you follow every little command, telling you exactly how to touch yourself and move your hands. He'll sigh and tell you no, you're going to fast, you can't do it that fast yet... and if you get too overexcited, he'll just have to make you stop, since you can't seem to listen, and maybe not get to cum until tomorrow, so you can learn to behave better about it next time.

Fluids/Cumplay

He has something of a fixation with all kinds. He loves seeing the trail of saliva from your mouth when you pull off his dick, the way cum drips out of you and runs down your thighs. He also likes seeing it splattered across your face, your chest, in your hair, something about the sight of it nearly has him hard immediately after and ready to go. But he also likes how it will gross you out, leaving you tied up so that you can't wipe it off, are forced to just stay there with it dripping out of your holes and down your skin in a way that makes you shiver. And, really, he loves your fluids too, sweet salty slick that's just so mesmerizing to watch coat his fingers and face. But his favorite thing, probably has to be running his fingers through your own juices and slick, collecting it on his fingers, holding it up to your mouth and telling you to suck them clean. Somehow, it's even hotter when you're licking your own fluids off of his fingers, although you doing so with his is certainly nice too.

How do they feel about pregnancy or babies? Do they want them?

He’d like an heir one day. He's one to want a kid, maybe two, but not a whole lot. Just enough to have a proper family structure, much like the family he was raised in. It's the proper thing to do, he thinks, a natural part of the social order and continuation of a legacy. As a natural extension of his spoiled brat tendencies, he often doesn't think very responsibly in regards to preventing children, so, lucky for him, that ideal will likely come to fruition eventually, if physically possible.

What kind of (nsfw) punishments would they use?

Absolutely uses overstimulation. Whatever sorts of toys exist in Teyvat, he's rich enough that he can easily obtain them - little things he can attach to you and leave buzzing, or thick plugs and internal toys to stuff you full and leave you there to suffer in stimulation and stretching for hours on end. And he doesn't leave you alone, no, he stays close by, leaving you tied up and blindfolded, the occasionally lazy checkup of "oh, how are you holding up over there? I almost totally forgot you were there!" in a mocking tone while he goes about reading his books or practicing or jerking off to the sight.

Also ruined orgasms. Ugh, he's the worst. Gets you right to your peak, likely also after hours of edging, and then just... stops. Right as you reach the high, stops all motion, leaves you whimpering and sobbing, it's literally painful to actually reach it, and then still have that orgasm taken from you. And he'll be sure to remind you that if you were good, you could experience it in full, he could make you feel so good and let you ride out that high... but so long as you insist on being such a stubborn little princess, unfortunately, he can't just give you that. He hates this too, you know, he says. He'd love nothing more than to share pleasure, but you insist on being difficult.

What body parts of their darling do they like the most?

Legs and thighs. He likes the aesthetics of legs, the softness, the way the flesh feels in his hands. The way touching them can make you jolt, the sensitivity, the way they leave little marks so perfectly if he sucks and bites at the skin. It's just really pretty.

[julemmaes]

Payback

Rowaelin Month, Day Five

A/N: Yall I'm dying. I didn't even wanna write today and I kinda forced myself to and I'm not proud of myself for this but I just wanted you to have something so yep. Tomorrow's will be a lot angstier and sadder than this one, so soak up the very light fluff I'm giving you till you can

Signing off, goodnight yall

Word count: 3,614

Aelin hated the underground car park reserved for the residents of her building. It was dark, so narrow that you had to do at least a hundred swerves to avoid taking any corner and scratching off half your car, and it was impossible to find a spot when everyone came home in the evening after hours and hours in the office and parked as they saw fit while still thinking about the thousands of pieces of paperwork that would be waiting for them at their desks only nine hours later, sometimes taking up more than two spots at once.

The only reason she still tried to park down there was that there was a flock of pigeons in the trees just outside their block of flats, on the main road, which had made a nasty habit of shitting on anything - or anyone, on some unpleasant occasion - that stopped for more than five minutes under the thick branches. A perfect hiding place for birds, that no one had thought to warn her about when she had moved in only a few months earlier.

She had deemed herself lucky the night before, when she had returned before anyone else and found the lot completely empty. She'd been so happy that she'd driven around a bit down there just for the hell of it. She'd pulled up next to the exit, thinking it would be easier to get out the next morning.

She hadn't anticipated the three assholes who had parked so as to block her path in every conceivable way.

She grunted, banging her fist against the steering wheel when she realised she still wasn't clear, and put the car into reverse for the twelfth time, before changing gear and driving three inches forward. And so on, and on, and on, until she managed to steer the face of the car towards the exit and let out a satisfied howl.

She started up the slope towards the road, taking her eyes off the driveway and distracting herself for a moment to choose which radio to listen to, when the car hit something and the dull sound of the bang echoed throughout her body, propelling her forward.

Aelin squealed, hitting the brakes hard enough to cause a high-pitched squeal, and soon the smell of burnt plastic filled her nostrils.

The car shut off and she pulled the handbrake vehemently, getting out of the car and trying to figure out which wall she had hit, already cursing every deity that had ever existed. She didn't have enough money to afford a repair, and she knew perfectly well that the dent would be there for months before she let any of her friends help her.

She wrinkled her brow, noticing how no side of the car was touching walls or columns.

"What the..."

And then she heard it, a grunt of pain.

She opened her eyes wide, running around the car and finding a man on the ground.

To the view of a head full of stark white hair, the fear she’d just ran over one of the oldies that lived on her floor stuck her. But then the person got up on their elbows and she let go of a sigh of relief.

But still, she had just runapartment someone over. She hurried his way.

"Oh, fuck." said Aelin, approaching the stranger. The man pulled himself up to sit, bringing a hand to his face, on his cheek, where a cut was bleeding profusely on his shirt.

"Holy shit." muttered the guy, looking up at her, "That hurt."

Aelin was frozen in time, her hands to her gaping mouth, looking for the right words.

When he tried to stand, swaying a little, she pushed through the fog in her mind and truly looked at him, searching other injuries, but not failing to notice his sheer handsomeness.

The man looked like he’d been made in heaven.

She shook her head, mentally reprimanding herself – now was not the time – and started talking.

“I’m so so so sorry. I didn’t see you there and- oh god, you’re bleeding. You need me to rush you to the hospital? Fuck, you think you broke something?” the words just kept flowing and flowing. “Where were you even going? Why didn’t you just got out of the main entrance? This fucking parking lot. I swear we have to call the landlord and have him put some lights down here. Your shirt,” she grimaced, eyeing the blood standing out on the white fabric. Aelin looked him in the eye, “I have a very similar one upstairs? You want me to go fetch it for you, I could-”

“Jesus Christ!” he yelled, putting his hands in between them, forcing her to step back, “Shut the fuck up!”

Aelin’s mouth closed shut and her eyebrows raised so high she felt her skin pull on her temples. She crossed her arms over her chest. Her eyes popping out.

This man. Sure, she’d just ran him over, but no one had ever talked to her like that.

“I’m fine.” he grumbled, “And I live in this building, I’ll go take my own shirt, thank you.” He took a deep breath, brushing off his trousers and bending to gather his stuff that had scattered around during his fall. When he lifted his head again, he gave her a tight smile and his piercing green eyes stared at her with an intensity that had Aelin’s toes curling in her shoes.

“Have a nice day.”

He then proceeded to walk away, leaving Aelin alone in the darkish driveway.

She looked around, hoping to see someone who could confirm that it had just been a figment of her imagination, but there was no one.

Getting back in her car, Aelin started the engine and drove up to the street, chewing on her lips, “What the fuck just happened?”

***

Aelin had thought all day about the mysterious man. She hadn’t been able to focus during her meetings and hadn’t even finished one of her projects. Something that she sure as fuck knew her boss would make her notice and work her ass off to make up for once word got to him.

Her day had started off so bad she knew it couldn’t get any worse, but she’d been wrong.

Her assistant had spilled coffee over her only finished drawing and herself. One of her coworkers had decided today was the perfect day to quit her job and pile her projects on Aelin’s desk. Then she’d gone out for lunch with some of her friends and it had started raining so heavily she’d been forced to stay in the office, only eye-eating the mouth-watering dishes her friends had posted on their instagram stories. They’d made it to the diner just before the sky cracked open.

And, the cherry on top, someone had keyed her car.

She’d been on the verge of tears when she’d spotted the red stains of her neighbor’s blood on the parking lot floor when she got back home, but she didn’t let any fall.

She had a date.

And she wouldn’t let all these little things get to her and ruin what could possibly be the best night of her life.

One of her life-long best friends had set her up on a blind date with one of her boyfriend’s best friends. She’d promised the man was the perfect match, someone Elide thought would keep her on her toes and match her overflowing personality.

Aelin had been hesitant at first when Elide hadn’t wanted to give her a name, or show her a picture, claiming she’d go all FBI style on him and ruin their first meeting, but she’d also promised Aelin she’d met the guy a few times and he’d been nothing but a gentleman.

And she had heard so much of him she felt like she’d known him her whole life.

Some of the things Elide had told her, she’d liked better if she’d found directly from him, but Aelin was a picky woman and she wasn’t risking another date with a creeper.

She pulled up in the restaurant’s parking lot where Elide had reserved the four of them a table and turned off her car, clutching the wheel. She took a deep breath. And another.

She was still a little worked up and all the pent-up emotions of the day were threatening to spill over the surface any minute, but she could make it past dinner and then have her little monthly breakdown in the peace and quiet of her apartment.

She fixed her lipstick, tightened up her ponytail and let two strands of hair cascade on the side of her face. She blew herself a kiss in the mirror, “You can do it.” she whispered as a short pet talk.

She got off the car, pulled out her phone to check if Elide was already inside and she was so focused on the screen she failed to notice someone backing up right in front of her until it was too late.

The car only bumped into her hip, but it was enough to make her lose her balance.

Aelin merely had time to register what was happening that she found herself lying in a puddle of rain and mud. She closed her eyes at the dull pain on the back of her head, but she knew for a fact the hit hadn’t been that bad.

She lifted her arms up, looking down at the wet spots on her dress, darkening by the second. Her seventy euros purse soaking up the water all around her.

The tension behind her eyes just increased when she heard the driver’s door open and someone step out of the car. She couldn’t have stopped the sobs even if she wanted to.

“Miss? Oh god, I’m so sorry. Are you alright?”

Strong arms circled her waist and pulled her up in a standing position. She brought her hands to her face, her body now racked by her crying as she tried to get a handle of herself.

“Miss?” the voice called again, now nearer. “Are you hurt? I didn’t-” the man talking stopped suddenly and Aelin looked up, not seeing anything through the tears. “You.”

And then it hit her.

That voice.

She knew that voice.

She ran her hand over her face, rubbing her eyes and staring right back at the man she had ran over that same morning.

Her mouth fell open.

He was looking at her with an amused expression and Aelin couldn’t find the words once again.

What was it with this man and his ability to take her ability to talk by just showing up?

He had a transparent band-aid on his cheek, his cut far less severe than she had thought, and his eyes were glistening with mirth. He was wearing a simple black pair of jeans and a dark green t-shirt, but he was even more handsome than in his work clothes.

Aelin was taking rushed, trembling breaths, and she was about to kill this man with her bare hands. Shred his skin off his bones and have him beg-

“I guess we’re even now, uh?”

His attempt of a joke flew over her head and she charged at him, a scream lodged in her throat.

His eyes widened and he took a step back when she flung her arm at him, trying to hit him. His hands closed around her wrists, blocking her from causing him more harm that she’d already done.

“You asshole!” she was screaming at the top of her lungs. “You ruined my dress!”

Aelin lifted a leg, more than convinced to kneel his balls, but he managed to block her blow again, infuriating her even more.

“I was about to meet the love of my life and ruined my fucking dress!”

He tried to push her away from him, still squeezing her wrists, and his brow furrowed.

“He’s everything I’ve ever dreamed of. He’s a pediatrician! He loves children! And he has a cute fucking dog my friend said I would love and cuddle the shit out of! Her name is Fleetfoot and she’s a golden retriever and Elide knows I fucking love goldens. And he’s from Orynth, just. Like. Me!” she got louder and louder with every word she spit out. “And he’s tall, and handsome and he’s the perfect match! And I deserved this one night!”

The man was now looking at her with a dumbfounded expression, his hold slightly loosening.

“I’m so done with this dating thing and I’d finally found him and you!” she shoved a finger in his chest, making him retreat a few steps. “You wanted your payback so bad you ran me over with your car!

“And now he’s gonna take one look at me and think I’m a fucking psycho! I bet my hair are the most disgusting thing he’s ever seen and my make up. Oh fuck, I must look like a panda.” Aelin started crying harder, laying her hands flat on the man’s torso, pushing her head to his chest. “I look like a fucking panda.”

She tried to speak again but her mind just couldn’t form any coherent thought, until she felt the man’s arms closing around her shoulders. He stepped closer, running his hand up and down her back, whispering something she couldn’t really hear over her crying.

Aelin didn’t know how much time she spent in the stranger’s embrace, but when the gravity of the scene she’d just made in front of him downed on her, she felt her body flare up in embarrassment.

That was her life now?

Having mental breakdowns in a dark parking lot after someone she’d ran over with her car had returned the gesture and then making them console her?

She detached herself from the man and for a second she thought she’d felt him hesitate before he took a step back. And another, leaving her standing her in her soaking wet dress and her puffy, surely-red eyes. He bent down, picking up her purse and handing it to her.

She lowered her gaze, not even daring looking at his shoes and closed her eyes.

“I’m sorry.”

The man made a sound of surprise, “Why would you be sorry?”

Aelin wished she could die on the spot. Evaporate out of existence.

“For hitting you. Or at least trying. And crying all over you.” she said and then grimaced. She ran a hand over her face. “I just had a very hard day and I wasn’t even sure I wanted to come, but this guy seriously seems like he could be the missing piece to whatever the fuck my puzzle-life is. I didn’t want to take a raincheck and have him thinking I’m not serious about this.”

A beat of silence, “I’m sure he would have understood.”

She shook her head, keeping on talking as if he hadn’t even been there, “And now I can’t go in like this.” she passed her hands on her dress, the tears building up again in her eyes. “Plus, Elide didn’t tell me what he looks like, cause she thinks he’s a real snack and wanted to see my face when I saw him for the first time.” she was bordering on pouting, “That means he’s gotta be smoking hot or I’ll be so pissed at her.”

The man snorted loudly, “A snack.” he hummed, “Maybe I should meet your friend and thank her.”

Aelin’s head snapped up, “Oh no, she’s taken.” she shook her head vehemently, “Like so freaking taken. I swear she and her boyfriend have been together for a whole of three months and they already act like a married couple.”

He nodded, a lopsided smile on his face, “I know the kind.”

She’d been so absorbed by her talking that she hadn’t noticed she’d stopped crying.

She breathed through her nose and clasped her hands together, before reaching one out towards him, “I think introductions are needed. I’m Aelin.” she offered a tentative smile.

His hand engulfed hers, shaking it with impressive gentleness. His smile grew even larger if possible and Aelin was starting to think she was about to het murdered.

But then he said his name and the world ceased existing around them.

Their hands still moving up and down between them.

She tilted her head forward, “I’m sorry, could you repeat that?”

He licked his lower lip, “I’m Rowan.”

Aelin closed her eyes, holding her breath.

She squeezed his hand before releasing it. She took a step back, wishing for the ground beneath her feet to crack open and just eat her whole.

“I’m gonna go kill myself now, if you’ll excuse me.”

His laugh reached her ears with painful speed.

Rowan.

She couldn’t believe it.

Well, she could. The man laughing his heart out at her expense was probably the most handsome person she’d ever seen in her entire life.

At least Elide hadn’t lied about that.

“A tad dramatic, if you ask me,” he said as his laugh died down. He pointed at the restaurant behind him, “You want me to go fetch the married couple so we can go back at the appartment and you can change? I’m not against you walking in there with this outfit at all,” he gave a pointed look, matched by a shit-eating grin that seemed to be etched in his lips, “I’m not gonna think you’re a psycho, not for this at least, and I’m ready to fight everyone who looks at you the wrong way. But you look like you could use the comfort of a warm house.”

Aelin looked up at him with a questioning look, trying to understand if this man she’d just tried to maul was seriously offering her options, letting her choose after everything that had gone down so far between the two of them. As if still giving her a chance.

Rowan arched a brow, looking around and glancing back at her, “Aelin?”

Oh, fuck.

She had been oh so not ready o hear her name from his lips.

She nodded and he smiled, leaning down a bit.

She could smell his cologne from here.

“Yes to what? Me calling Lorcan and Elide or getting inside even if you dripping wet?”

Holy fucking shit, this man shouldn’t have been allowed to say the words dripping wet.

She stilled herself.

What the hell was she thinking? She brought her hands to her face, “Please call them and let’s head home. I’m so fucking tired.” a yawn broke her sentence, as to prove her words, “And I’m freezing in this skimpy dress.”

Rowan rushed to her side, “Oh, god, sorry for not offering sooner, here,” he opened the trunk of his car and pulled out a huge blue sweater. Without even waiting for an answer he snatched her purse from her hands and shoved her head in his sweater.

Aelin felt better right away and gave him a big smile.

Rowan answered with one of his own and of course he had to be this perfect and more.

“I’m sorry for ruining your dress, I’ll make sure they wash it carefully when I take it to the laundry. If you’d let me.”

She nodded faintly, exhaling the panty-dropping smell of his sweater.

“And I’m hoping to see you wear it again once we finally get to go on a proper date.” he smirked, “I bet you looked amazing before I went and ran you over.”

Aelin chuckled, shaking her head, “You truly are a gentleman. Elide wasn’t exaggerating.”

Rowan’s demeanor changed completely and Aelin feared she’d said something wrong, but he averted his gaze as if he was embarassed.

“I’m sorry for this morning,” he said. Aelin almost tripped on her feet. He was sorry? “I shouldn’t have talked to you like that but I was just coming back from the hospital and Elide was right saying I work with kids, but I’m not a pediatrician, I’m a pediatric surgeon.”

His gaze grew dark as he looked over her shoulder, avoiding meeting her eyes at all costs.

“Yesterday night we lost a eight years old and I wasn’t really there when you hit me with your car. I didn’t mean to yell at you like I did, it was just-”

Rowan couldn’t finish his sentence that Aelin lunged for him, hugging him as tight as he’d held her a few minutes before, hoping she could relieve some of the pain that was surely clutching his heart. She felt him sag in her arms and hold her in turn.

She was glad she could offer some kind of support.

“It must be hard.” she whispered against his chest.

Rowan nodded, hitting her head with his chin, “It is, but it’s part of the job. The only way you can live with something like that in your baggage is knowing you did everything you could to save them.”

Aelin could feel the emotion lacing his every word and tightened her arms for a moment before freeing him of her embrace. He silently thanked her and told her he’d be right back with their friends.

The second he was gone she realized she couldn’t wait for when he’d be back and they could keep talking.

She’d never felt this way before. Not this fast at least.

Sure, she had loved all her exes, but this. This was different.

There was something there, a connection.

And while he walked back to her, Lorcan and Elide in tow, a bright smile on his handsome face, she couldn’t help but think she was ready to find out all about it.

tog tag list (if you wanna be added or removed just dm me or send me an ask)

@maastrash @ireallyshouldsleeprn @sleeping-and-books @hellasblessed @thegoddessofyou @ghostlyrose2 @claralady @sayosdreams @perseusannabeth @letstakethedawn @terrible-and-proud @post-it-notes33 @booksstorm @nalgenewhore @queen-of-demons-and-hell @lanyjoy-13 @vasudharaghavan @cupcakey00 @bri-loves-sunflowers @queen-of-glass @thewayshedreamed @the-regal-warrior @fangirlprincess09 @januarystears @rowaelinismyotp @starbornsinger @bookstantrash @thegreyj @feysand-loml @autumnbabylon @a-court-of-milkandhoney @highqueenofelfhame @story-scribbler @mariamuses

[havethetimeofyourstyles]

Chapter Seven. 

a/n: hello! this is the last chapter of book 1! thank you for the few who had read and left me nice messages and feedback, i truly appreciate it with all my heart. the next chapter will be posted in two weeks from now. also, please please please reblog and leave feedback for the content you’re consuming for free; it truly helps motivate content creators to keep posting. for now, enjoy this chapter <3 

SERIES MASTERLIST | word count: 17.7k 

warnings: sexual content, panic attack, and mentions of drug use (from minor character) 

come talk to me about WTSGD! i’d love to know your thoughts! 

June 2, 2018 

Hot grainy sand seeped in between the crevices of their toes as they ran around, chasing one another while the hot sun shined brightly on their backs. An in sync laughter erupted through them as Luci had jumped on Harry, causing him to fall back on the sand. 

They were a picture-perfect moment, simply consumed by one another that envisioning life without the other was pure torture. 

June was the last month of her break before she was off to Singapore to film for Crazy Rich Asians. Throughout the entire month of May, she was booked between rehearsing with her acting coach and auditioning for this role. The entire process didn’t take as long as Ocean’s Eight since they’d given her the role within a week and a half of just auditioning for it. She was entirely surprised at how quick it was to make that decision, but Samantha had told her that her talent had gone a long way and they wanted her. Luci was absolutely thrilled, and she was at a place where she didn’t feel pressured or overwhelmed with the workload. Thea and Samantha were gems to work with; they both made sure and asked several times if she wanted to take on another project right after finishing her first one, and Luci realized why shouldn’t she? Opportunities aren’t usually thrown at her this fast, so she took the chance and landed the role. 

However, taking on another role just meant she’d have to leave again, meaning she’d have to be apart from Harry. Luci, in a way, would call herself selfless to where she would give up her dream if her loved one asked her to; but she had the tendency to make impulsive decisions without consulting everyone that was going to be affected by her long but temporary absence. Such as Harry and her family. Her family, as she knew, would tell her to go for it and that she shouldn’t worry about them when she had another opportunity lined up for her. As for Harry, she hadn’t thought about the fact that they were going to be apart for another four or five months. She didn’t think about the fact that she was spending the majority of their relationship apart from him and in different time zones. She didn’t think about him when she immediately said yes to taking on another project. 

The anxiety had crept up on her when she told Harry the news, and just like the supportive boyfriend that he was, he was absolutely thrilled and excited for her. She hadn’t matched his excitement, and that was when he knew something was wrong. 

“Talk to me, Ci.” He rubbed her back comfortingly. 

“We’re gonna be apart again,” she said sadly. “I don’t wanna do this.” 

Harry took a deep breath. “Don’t wanna do…us?” 

“No. I don’t wanna work if we’re going to be apart. I wanna stay with you.” Her eyes were filled with tears. Her voice was heavy as she felt like her throat was closing in on her. Harry saw and felt the ache she had felt in her heart. And all the same, it broke his heart. 

“You have to do this job.” Luci looked at him with sad eyes, half hoping he wouldn’t have said that. 

“But…” 

“My love, do you realize what this could mean? That movie is going to be huge. Just imagine all the people you’d work with if you took on this role. Your name is going to spread like wildfire after that!” His tone was hopeful and supportive, everything she could ever want in a partner. “Please tell me you won’t quit this job. Your dreams are finally coming true, why stop now?”

“Because I wanna be with you.” 

“You are with me! I appreciate you wanting to be with me because trust me, I really want you by my side all the time, but don’t worry about me, okay? You’re not going to lose me.” He shook his head, looking so deeply into Luci’s eyes as if he were engraving his words into her mind. 

All she did was nod, not trusting her voice to mutter out a response. She trusted Harry wholeheartedly, with her entire life. Later that evening, she told Thea that she was one hundred percent committed to the movie. 

They had about three weeks to spend as much time together before Luci had to leave again. Aside from Harry finishing up the school year and Luci having meetings every other day with her managers and some of the producers from the film to sign off on some contracts, they’d managed to make ends work. They made sure to make up for some lost time from when Luci was still filming for her first movie; they spent mornings sleeping in until one would wake up and tease the other, which would result into having a lazy and sleepy morning sex; they went on countless dates, and truly gotten to know one another without any distractions. 

Harry insisted on going to Coney Island Beach, which Luci was always up for. Luckily, no one recognized her, interrupting their perfect day together. They spent the day hand-in-hand, chasing one another into the water, and laughing until their stomachs ached. After a tiring moment of running around and being goofy, they settled onto their beach mat as their chests heaved up and down. Water droplets rested against the ends of Harry’s hair as he looked at Luci, who was wiping off the sand that had stuck to her thighs as she was completely unaware of his stare. 

“Tell me about your earliest memory.” Harry requested. 

Luci smiled at the thought. “I was four-years-old. My family and I went to Mexico for the summer. We’d gone all over the country before so I have bits and pieces of all the cities we’d gone to.” Harry listened as she talked about her childhood memory. “I remember all of the kids clubs that our parents checked me and Nathan into. There was this one kids club in Cancun where it was The Flintstones themed, and we got to paint shirts with Bamm-Bamm on it—I still have that shirt till this day.” Luci reminisced on the recollection of the summer during her younger years. 

Harry’s eyes widened. “Really? That shirt is, like, twenty-two-years-old now.” 

“I know!” Luci laughed; a sound that was glorious to his ears. “I just can’t get rid of it. It’s really the only thing I physically have from my childhood besides all of the video tapes my dad took of us during that trip.” She sighed, reliving those moments in her head. “What was your earliest memory?” 

“I was probably about five-years-old, but I remember my mum and dad got us a dog. We named her Bunny; although I think I named her myself because I was attached to her the moment we got her.” Harry smiled, and Luci giggled as she imagined little Harry meeting his dog for the first time. “She was a golden retriever, and was always the happiest. When we’d get home from school, Bunny would always be waiting by the door, and would follow me around the house everywhere; sit next to me while I was eating at the table, laid her head on my leg when I was watching TV, and would sometimes sleep with me—I’d just have to sneak her into my room because my parents didn’t allow it. We had to put her down, though, because she had some kind of infection. She lived a very good life. I hope she didn’t complain.” 

Luci fondly smiled at him. She loved learning about tiny but significant pieces of Harry’s life, and it just made her love him even more than she already did. Love? The thought momentarily and internally freaked her out, but then she realized that those thoughts were correct. She loved Harry. 

He was thinking the exact same thing she was, as if their minds were linked in a special way that they could only convey. Curling his lips in, he felt his heartbeat pick up into an erratic pace that he felt like it was about to burst from just looking at her. His stomach fluttered with butterflies, erupting into a cave of monarchs, suddenly feeling nervous. He blushed, fidgeting with his ringless fingers that felt dry from the grainy hot sand. 

Was this what it felt like? He pondered in his head. He’d never felt like this before, never felt this feeling with his past partners. And he knew the difference quite well because when he looked back at his previous relationships, he saw a time frame that only fit into a certain moment in his life. But looking at Luci right now, he saw the entire world. The sun shined brighter when he thought about her. His every sated thought was consumed with her, and that thought scared him, but it was thrilling and exhilarating, leaving him wanting more. 

“Luci.” 

She looked up, flashing him her smile that he’d fallen for over and over again. “Yeah?” 

Taking a deep breath, he spit out fire, “I love you. I think I have for a while now,” and made the spark ignite in her stomach.

Her eyes widened, speechless. And that was when Harry thought he completely messed everything up and ruined their domestic and happy routine. That was until she said, “I love you too, Harry. You make my heart beat ten times faster.” 

“Really?” A sheepish smile landed on his face, and Luci thought he was the most adorable person she’d ever met. 

Nodding, she scooted closer to him, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “Really.” 

“You make me so, so happy.”

Just as they shared a loving and tender kiss under the sun, momentarily, all their worries went away. 

When it was time for Harry to say goodbye to her, it never really got easier watching Luci leave. By the end of their paradise break where they’d spent days and weeks together nonstop, he had dropped her off at the airport and watched as she stepped onto the escalator on her way to TSA. The entire scenery and feeling felt somewhat familiar to him, but he still felt pain in his chest every time he had to go back home without her, where she wouldn’t be across the hall from him. It was like watching her leave for the first time all over again, as if his mind hadn’t quite grasped at the concept of being alone for another few months again after spending a few weeks together. 

He only hoped it would get easier. 

Luci had erupted a light inside of him that he’d never known was there before. He had spent years of being in the dark, years of not knowing where to go because that certain light wasn’t guiding him. But the darkness seemed to fade away ever since he’d met her. That beautiful smile of hers was the sun that seeped through the windows in the early morning. But when the source and power for that certain light was gone for months, miles away, then all electrical power goes out too. 

Harry carelessly threw his phone on the bed, masking the urge to scream into agony. He pulled at his hair, inhaling and exhaling through his nose to keep him calm. His anxiety was bubbling up, and he felt his hands shake. 

It had been a long week for him, and it started from Monday as it carried on to Saturday. On Monday morning, he was late for work; he slept through all three of his alarms that he’d set up the night prior, making sure they were at a decent volume. He woke up an hour later, rushing to get dressed for the day. As he was brushing his teeth, he spilled toothpaste on his white shirt as if he wasn’t late already, he had to change again. 

Tuesday through Thursday were a mess for him; he wasn’t his usual self and he felt very off. It had gone to the point where his students had noticed and asked him if he was okay right as they were leaving for lunch. Of course, he told them that he was fine, but as soon as they left, he spent his lunch time crying, not getting a chance to eat his food. 

On top of the horrible week, he hated giving quizzes on Fridays, but he had to anyway because after every story his class finished, there was a quiz—it just so happened to be on a Friday. As he was packing up, getting ready to leave, he made sure the quizzes were nice and stacked before he put it into his messenger bag, but the unfortunate perfect timing had occurred and his coffee spilled all over the papers, leaving a brown, wet stain on more than half of the quizzes. He wanted to quit right there, on the spot before he let his students retake the quiz all over again. He did his best keeping his composure until he got home, slamming the door and completely dropping all of his belongings on the ground, not caring about the mess.

Harry didn’t know what caused him to have such an off-putting mood, but the thought of missing a certain someone had lingered in his mind, screaming at him to conclude his breakdown. 

All he wanted was to see her, talk to her, hug her—but she was miles away. 

Luci had been hopping from country to country in Asia, filming and working for two months already; and within those months, she had only contacted him five times. Despite being together for seven months, he didn’t want to constantly text her, asking for her attention because he didn’t want to think he was needy. But this time, he really needed to talk to her. 

Grabbing his phone that he threw on his bed, he dialed her number. He heard the phone ring once, twice, and a third time before he’d lost all hope that she wasn’t going to pick up. But then, the ringing stopped, followed by a soft: “Hello?” 

Hearing her voice after a couple months made Harry let out a sigh of relief but was soon trailed with a few tears. Luci heard sniffles and soft cries, and she felt an immense amount of guilt in her chest. 

“Harry? Baby? Are you okay?” The sound of his name on the phone didn’t do her beautiful voice justice. “H, you’re scaring me.” She sat up on her bed, way too big for just one person. The white and soft sheet surrounded her, and every time she woke up and fell asleep, she thought about Harry and wished to get lost and tangled within these sheets with him. 

He sniffled, leading into a deep breath. “Sorry, I know it’s early over there-”

“No, no. Don’t be sorry. Are you okay, my love?” She asked concerningly. 

“I-I don’t know. I’m just so overwhelmed and…” she heard him start to breathe heavily, and she only wished she was right across the hall from him to take him in her arms. 

“Harry,” she interrupted. “I’m going to need you to breathe for me, okay? Slow and big inhales and exhales. Breathe with me.” Harry nodded, even though she couldn’t see him. He took a seat in front of the bed on the floor, propping his knees up so he could place his elbows on them as he leaned his head down in between his arms, making a small cave as he protected himself from any more overwhelming emotions and thoughts. 

For the next minute or two, they breathed together on the phone, and it calmed down hearing her breath deeply. Luci held it together, not wanting to break when she was the one that was supposed to calm him down. 

“Are you ready to talk about it?” 

Harry gulped, closing his eyes before he told her about his week. He hadn’t talked to her for the entire week, so he didn’t spare any detail on his messy and awful week. Luci listened intently, not wanting to give her attention away from him even for a moment; she pressed the phone against her ear as she laid on her side, cuddling into her pillow and blanket as she pretended Harry was right next to her. Luckily, her call time was at ten a.m, so she had a good three hours to talk to him. 

“I just don’t know what I’m going to do about these quizzes.” 

“Hmm, let’s see. Like, all of them are ruined?” 

“Pretty much.” 

“Well, you could be honest with them. I’m sure some of them hadn’t read the material, so they might’ve not done so well. So, you could tell them that they were ruined, and just give them a chance to catch up on their readings and study the material.” She advised. “I mean, it’s a quiz—it shouldn’t interfere too much with the teaching and schedule and all the grading, right?”

“Not really…” he answered, thinking about her suggestion, and it was a really great suggestion, might he add. “Yeah, I think I’ll do that. I’d feel absolutely horrible if I made them retake it. I didn’t even want to schedule a quiz on Friday anyways.” 

“And that’s what makes you a great teacher,” she said genuinely. 

“Thank you, Ci. And thank you for answering, I know things are hectic and our schedules don’t line up. 

Plus the time-zones…” 

Luci felt her heart sink, a frown etched on her face. She knew she wasn’t texting or trying to call him, and that’s where the guilt crept in. In a way, she felt like she wanted space, like she didn’t want to consistently check up on someone back home. But the more she thought about it, the more she felt terrible because she knew that Harry’s added stress was because she hadn’t spoken to him in a week. She ignored all of the incoming text messages, leaving them unanswered while being in a country she’d never been to before. 

Her anxiety was also acting up because of how exhausted she was from flying from one place to another and the jetlag she endured. To add to her exhaustion, she was also overwhelmed with work, causing her to curl into a ball and ignore the rest of the world whenever she got some downtime. 

“You shouldn’t have to thank me for answering, Harry. I-I’m sorry I haven’t been talking to you. I’ve just been swamped with work and being tired all the time, and the last thing I wanted to do was talk to you—it’s horrible, I know. Like, I genuinely hate myself for not wanting to, especially with how far apart we are,” she admitted. Harry couldn’t help but feel his heart crack a bit; he hadn’t expected her to feel or say that. He assumed that the time apart had left her itching to see him, just as much as he wanted to see her. 

After a few seconds of silence, Harry was unable to put together the exact words he wanted to say because he was so thrown off by what she’d said. 

“Harry, I’m sorry if I upset you. You have every right to be angry with me.” 

He took a deep breath, shaking his head lightly. “I’m not angry. A bit hurt? Yeah. But I can’t control how you feel, and you can’t control how you feel either. Don’t feel obligated to speak to me, I know you’re busy and all…” His tone wasn’t enthusiastic, but could anyone blame him? His girlfriend just told him that she didn’t feel like talking to him for the entire week, maybe the entire time she was gone. 

The switch-up was inevitable. This past week, Luci wanted space and Harry unspokenly gave her that space by not wanting to appear as clingy, but just when she’d disappointed and upset him, all she wanted was to be in the same room he was in, holding him tight. 

“Anyways, you should get going.” Luci’s brows furrowed as she looked at the digital clock on the bedside table, reading 8:23 a.m.. “I’ll talk to you, uh, soon.” 

And this time, when he unspokenly asked for space, she had given it to him. 

“Okay. I’ll talk to you later.” A small pout landed on her mouth. For a moment, neither of them wanted to hang up, not wanting to leave this conversation with such an awkward-filled tension that won’t be able to be fixed until later on. “Harry?” Luci spoke up right before he was about to hang up. 

“Yeah?” 

“I love you.” She held her breath. 

“I love you too, Ci. I’ll see you soon.” Harry hung up the phone as Luci let out the air she was holding in, but she still felt weight on her shoulders. 

He was glad that he was able to talk to Luci and that she was able to calm him down with her soothing and soft voice; but that night, he still went to bed with a heavy heart, surrounded by the scent of her on his pillows that she’d left behind. 

November 1, 2018 

Harry was waiting by baggage claim, waiting for Luci with her favorite bouquet of flowers in his hands. His hands gripped the stems of the flowers, wrinkling the brown paper as he contained the shakiness. 

It had been a little over four months since he last saw Luci, and nervous was an understatement. He thought that after the weird and awkward talk in August, things wouldn’t be the same and they were going to end things. But Luci was trying—they both were. She ended up talking to him and calling him any chance that she got, which wasn’t much, but it meant everything to Harry that she was trying. Plus, a little space never really did any harm. 

His foot tapped against the polished floor, making a random beat with his boot. People brushed past him, reunited with their loved ones and friends they hadn’t seen in x amount of days; and when he saw the burgundy colored luggage with a black name tag tied around the handle, he knew she was home. 

Appearing in slow motion, their eyes met and it felt like they’d been stunned by an electrifying force that compelled them together. Duplicate smiles were spread on their faces, never leaving sight of one another as they tried getting through the crowd of people who were exiting from the international gate. Once they were close enough, Luci held out her arms while Harry met her in the middle, wrapping his strong arms around her waist, hugging her tightly. Luci held him firmly, hands going straight to the bottom of his head as her fingers gently scratched the curls that delicately rested on the back of his neck. 

She felt hot kisses on her neck and a happy smile against her shoulder that it felt like he was tattooing it onto her skin. Luci began to pull away, kissing along the side of his neck and to his lips, taking in and savoring the feel of his soft and pink lips. 

They simply didn’t care that they were in the middle of the airport, in the middle of baggage claim where everyone could see them because who cared? They weren’t going to see these people tomorrow nor were they going to remember their faces, so they greeted each other in a long and soft kiss where they smiled against one another and held each other tight. 

Pulling away, they both giggled before Harry handed her the bouquet of flowers that made her swoon. 

“Welcome home, baby.” He pecked her lips once more. 

She smelled the flowers, smiling into them as if she were a bee collecting pollen before she wrapped one arm around his neck, pulling him in for another tight hug as she planted a big kiss on his cheek, making him blush. 

“I’m home,” Luci said once she pulled away. “Now, please, take me home.” She chuckled, dramatically sighing exhaustively as if she was going to sleep immediately when they got home. 

Harry wrapped his arm around her shoulder, pulling her into his side before he led her to the parking garage. 

“Let’s go home. New York misses you a lot.” 

After a long ride back to Brooklyn, their lips immediately connected right when they entered Luci’s apartment while Harry kicked the door closed with his foot, extending his arm back to make sure it was locked. She quickly but gently set the flowers on the counter, so she could put them into a vase later since she had more important matters on her hands. 

As Luci was walking backwards, kissing Harry, he led her to her bedroom. She pulled away, walking past him as she headed for the bathroom before turning back around, facing him.

“What are you doing?” He asked breathlessly. 

Luci swiftly removed her sweater, revealing an olive green sports bra. She then pulled her leggings down, kicking them off as she exposed her black cotton panties to him. Taking off her sports bra, she never disconnected eye contact with Harry, driving him wild as he started to grow in his pants. He brought his fingers up to his bottom lip, pinching it in between his fingers as she slowly slid off her underwear. She was completely bare in front of him, her clothes at her feet; Harry inhaled sharply at the sight of her naked, and Luci smirked at his reaction. 

“I’m going in for a shower. Wanna wash off hours being on a plane.” She headed into the restroom without another word, leaving Harry standing stunned in the middle of the hallway. 

“Does that include me too?” Harry called out. 

She chuckled. “Hell yeah, baby. Get in here.” Her voice echoed from the bathroom as she started the shower. Harry rushed, taking off his clothes as the bathroom started to steam up from the temperature of the water. 

When he opened the glass door, her back was facing the entrance of the shower as she tilted her head back, allowing the hot water to stream down the valleys and crevices of her body. Harry’s mouth was ajar, cock twitching as he watched her. He closed the door behind him as he stepped into the shower, wrapping his arm around her waist and catching her by surprise as she let out a squeal. 

Her back was pressed against his chest, hands roaming around her wet body as he squeezed her breasts. Harry pressed a soft kiss against her shoulder as part of his head was getting wet. Turning them around, the water streams hit his back as he continued to kiss along his neck and shoulder, biting down at her skin. She let out a soft moan at the feel of his lips, extending her arm backwards so her hand was placed on the back of his head. 

“Missed you,” she whispered, resting her head on his shoulder, exposing her entire neck. Harry couldn’t pass up the offer to wrap his hand around her neck, squeezing lightly as she slightly moaned. 

“Mm, missed you so much more.” Luci turned her head to meet his lips, and she already knew she was going to get a stiff neck later on, but she didn’t care; she wanted to kiss him for as long as possible. His hands trailed down to her clit, making her gasp in his mouth as he started to rub the bud softly, circling his fingers around just like he knew she liked it. 

The bathroom was filled with the sounds of heavy breathing, lips kissing, and the shower stream that was hitting their bodies and steaming the air, adding to their passionate tension from when they first were wrapped up around each other. 

Harry pulled away, pushing her against the wall while he kissed her shoulder once more, and Luci loved it every time he did that; it was a sweet and simple gesture, but it had complete control to get her riled up. He trailed his kisses along her back, kissing down her spine before he stopped at the top of her ass, biting down gently; Luci held the tiled wall in front of her for stability. Harry slowly licked the flesh of her ass, making his way inwards to her core. His tongue teased and rimmed her hole, making her pulse. 

“Harry…” she called out, and he playfully answered ‘yes’ as if he didn’t know what he was doing. She rolled her eyes, gripping the back of his head. “Don’t tease.” 

“Alright, alright. Only because I’ve missed you so much and have been dying to taste you again.” He kissed her ass once more before he leaned his head down to lick up from her clit to her wet hole. He sat on his knees, not caring if his knees would ache. 

He sucked and licked her clit before inserting a finger into her entrance. The sensation made Luci moan loud; her grasp on his hair tightened as if she was trying to pull the strands out. 

“Fuck, baby,” she whined, throwing her head back as she closed her eyes. 

Unexpectedly, Harry licked at her tighter and puckered hole, testing if she liked it or not; and he received a moan of ‘yes’ in return, so he continued licking her everywhere before her breath was staggered and she came on his tongue. Harry held her body tightly so she would slip from the water rushing on them. 

He slowly turned her around, kissing her lips in a heated passion that could only be received from her. Once Luci regained momentum, she took his cock in her hand, slowly pumping as he rested his forehead against hers, hands on both sides of her cheeks as he breathed heavily. Her other hand fondled his balls, rolling them in her hand, and it was his turn to throw his head back. 

As Luci stroked him, she kissed his chest, leaving a few hickies to his collarbones. 

“You’re so fuckin’ good, holy shit.” She watched his every reaction; watched him bite his lip into agony, eyes shut closed, and hips unconsciously bucking into her hand. “Don’t wanna come right now.” 

The main event was just a slip away, so she let go of him, and he’d already missed the feel of her around him. He connected their lips together; Harry bit her bottom lip as he slightly pulled at him, driving her crazy. 

“Fuck me, please,” she pleaded, wrapping her arms around his neck, pulling him the closest he could get as she lifted one leg up, using her leg strength to rest it beside his hip. His cock rested against her stomach, occasionally twitching from the slightest friction it was getting from her skin. 

He smirked. “Are you begging?” 

She playfully rolled her eyes. “Yeah, I’m begging. So what? I want you to fuck me now,” she said sternly. 

“Okay. Wait, need to get a condom-” 

She pulled him back. “I've had an IUD for a few years now, and we’re not sleeping with anyone else, right?” She asked teasingly, and he shook his head. “Good because I wanna feel you bare. Need to feel you.” 

“Fuck me,” he muttered under his breath. He grabbed a hold of himself, pumping slowly as he gripped the back of her thigh that propped against his hip. Running the tip against her slit, he collected her arousal and orgasm, making her shiver before he slowly slipped himself into her entrance. 

Their mouths were wide open once he was fully in. The feel of each other as they were completely bare and raw was an unbelievable feeling that neither of them could decipher. 

“So fuckin’ tight.” He was breathless as she squeezed around him, waiting for her to adjust to his size. She muttered a ‘please,’ and Harry started to thrust quicker. Her soft and wet walls hugged him tightly, making him groan louder as he leaned his forehead against her collarbones. Luci’s fingers raked the back of his shoulders 

“God, H, you feel so good.” Her head hit the wall behind her, and Harry pulled his head out of her chest. 

“Yeah? Tell me how good it feels,” he demanded. Despite having her eyes closed, she could practically see the smirk that landed on his face at the mention of how good he was making her feel. “Tell me, Ci. Look at me and tell me.” 

Her eyes fluttered open, meeting his dark jaded eyes. “So good. Could feel you everywhere.” Her words came out in between her breaths, moans, and Harry’s thrusts. 

He kissed her. “Tell me more. Tell me everything” 

“I’ve missed you inside of me. Thought about you everyday. I would touch myself before I went to bed, and it didn’t help.” 

Harry gripped her thigh hard, sure there were going to be bruises forming tomorrow. “Why didn’t it help?” He asked, picking up his pace. 

Luci inhaled sharply as she cried out. “Because no one could make me feel good. No one but you.” 

“Hmm, that’s right, baby. Only me. Such a good girl.” The tip of his cock brushed against her special spot, and she rolled her eyes back in ecstasy. He repeatedly hit that spot, linking his hands behind her neck for leverage. 

“Yes, yes, yes.” Her brows furrowed, biting her lip. Harry leaned down to suck and kick her tits, and Luci felt him slap one of them, making her get the idea of slapping something else, so she said, “Slap me, baby.” 

Thinking he meant her ass, he swatted one of the cheeks hard. 

“No.” She paused, bringing his hand up to her cheek. “Slap me.” Luci kissed the inside of his hand. 

His eyes widened. “Baby…” his thrusts slowed down, and Luci was right on the edge. He knew they talked about it the first time they had sex, and the first few times they had sex, he was testing out the waters on spanking, to which she absolutely loved feeling that certain type of sting. 

“Please, want you to.” She looked at him with pleading eyes. “Wanna feel it burn.” 

He debated in his head. “You’re sure?” She nodded, and he knew she could do better. “Words, Luciana.” 

“Yes, I’m one hundred percent sure. I’ll tell you if it's too much. Just wanna try it out.” She confirmed. The pressure in her stomach felt like she was going to burst, so she started to buck her hips, moving herself on him, making him groan. 

“Okay. We need a safe word…just in case.” 

“Mango.” Was the first thing that popped into her mind; it was also her favorite fruit. 

Harry chuckled. “Alright, mango it is.” He started thrusting again. His hand caressed her cheek as he brought his lips to hers, placing a sweet kiss to her luscious lips. “I love you.” 

“And I love you, too. I trust you.” 

Those words brought him reassurance, that she trusted only him to do this with, and that made him feel so much better about doing it. He nodded, continuing to fuck her into oblivion. Her eyes began to close and he felt her squeeze around him, making him jolt. 

“Hey, look at me. Want you to look at me when you cum.” Her eyes quickly opened, looking deep into his eyes that drove her crazy. “Fuck, you’re so beautiful. So, so beautiful.” Not too hard, he slapped her cheek, making her head swing to the side before she brought it back to look at his face. She had a sly smile on her face, as if she were the villain who would laugh every time the hero punched them. The impact had made her wetter, more eager to come. 

“Again.” She demanded, and he complied, slapping her twice more before she told him that she was coming. 

“That’s it. Such a pretty girl. Look at you cumming for me.” He kissed her forehead as he slammed his hips into her. 

Luci was spent, putting her full weight on the tiles, holding onto Harry’s shoulders, depending on him to keep her up; he wasn’t going to let her go, not ever. He wasn’t going to let her fall because he would catch her over and over again. 

“I’m gonna cum…” A throaty moan was released from his mouth. 

She grabbed his face, pressing their foreheads together as she said, “Please, cum in me. Want it.”

With her filthy words, Harry let out a harsh breath as he filled her up with his warm spurts of his pleasure, hips jolting as he rode his high out. He quickly kissed her, tongues swirling together as they swallowed each other’s moans. 

“Fuck, you’re so good to me.” He mindlessly breathed out. His cock slipped out of her once she brought her leg down to the ground, making her gasp in sensitivity. Soon, she felt the result of his pleasure trickling down her leg, and Harry was sure that was the hottest sight he’d ever seen. 

For a few moments, they held one another under the shower—thankful the hot water hadn’t been used entirely while they were fucking. Harry pulled away, cupping her cheeks as he looked at her. 

“Hey, you okay?” He asked, and she nodded. “D-Did I slap you too hard?” 

Luci shook her head. “No, no. It was perfect, thank you.”

He chuckled, softly rubbing his thumb against her soft cheek that he’d hit a few minutes prior. He placed many kisses to her skin, like he was subsiding the stings with his affection. “Learn more and more about you everyday; whether we’re having sex or not.” 

“Hmm, I love you.” She kissed his neck, causing him to wrap his arms around her waist tighter. 

“I love you more.” 

Finally, they were together again. 

November 3, 2018 

A stunning red cape-gown dress by Ralph Lauren sat perfectly on Luci’s body as her makeup artists were putting on the finishing touches to her glam. 

Today was the premiere for Ocean’s Eight, and nervous was an understatement. She’d been looking forward to these types of events since she was a little girl; watching movie premieres on the television, hoping and dreaming to become someone who walked the red carpet. Time flew by quickly because her dreams were about to come true. All she was missing was her boyfriend. 

After their reunion sex in the shower, they called it a night by eating some takeaway from Tasty plates. While her legs were resting on his thighs, she’d asked if he wanted to attend the premiere with her as her special guest. His answer was understandable, but she’d just wish he was next to her to calm her down. 

“Luci, please don’t take this the wrong way. I support you in everything that you do, you know that. I-I just don’t know if I’m ready for that. The thought of standing in front of cameras just makes me sick and nauseous. I don’t know…” She understood well, and saw where he was coming from because frankly, as she was getting ready for it, she could be sick any minute. 

She told him that it was completely okay, and proceeded with their night. 

“And done.” Her stylist, Jacqueline, announced, topping her makeup off with a dust of powder. “Luci, you look amazing.” 

“Thank you all so much. Best glam team ever.” The five people in the room clapped and praised her words. A security guard escorted her out to the car that was waiting in front of the hotel, ready to take her to the premiere. 

Once she got into the black SUV, her driver greeted her. “Hello, Ms. Suki. I’m Philip. I’ll be driving you around today.” 

“Hi, Philip. How are you?” 

“Doing very well, Ms. Suki. How are you?” 

“Oh, please call me Luci. But I’m okay—a bit nervous, if I’m honest.” 

“It’s an exciting time. You’ll do great.” Philip provided words of encouragement, which she was thankful for. Luci learned that Philip was from Spain, and had been living in New York since he was ten. She asked if he missed Spain, and he answered with. “Sometimes. I was quite young when we moved, so I didn’t really know any better. But the one thing I do miss is my family and how they speak—I didn’t know I could miss someone’s accent so much until I learned more about my culture. And here, I wasn’t surrounded by that. I’ve missed my abuela calling me ‘Felipe,’ which is my actual name.” Philip pulled up to the curb where there were countless media people with large professional cameras that were flashing brightly. Philip had definitely distracted Luci’s nervous thoughts as she hadn’t realized they were at the premiere already until he parked and dropped her off. “Goodluck, Ms. Luci. I can't wait to see the film!”

Someone from the outside of the car opened the door for her, and before she stepped out, she said ‘goodbye’ to her driver. “Thank you for driving me. I wish you well, Felipe.” She gave him a smile, trying her best to perfect the accent; Felipe looked at her with an appreciative smile, holding his hand to his heart. He hadn’t heard anyone say or try to say his real name ever since he moved, and for that, he will be forever grateful and honored to have met Luciana Suki. 

Camera flashes relentlessly went off in front of the Ziegfeld Theatre in midtown Manhattan. Luci balled her hands into fists as she stepped onto the blue carpet, the cameras directed towards her. She looked at Thea, who had met her at the premiere since she was her plus one, and Thea gave her an encouraging nod before Luci took a deep breath and walked in front of the white backdrop that had a large picture of the cast portraying their character in front of it. Shouts of direction were thrown her way, asking her to give their camera a big smile, and the only thing she felt was overwhelmed at everyone shouting at her, but she masked her emotions well. She was an actress, afterall. 

Harry was watching a live stream on his laptop, and he clapped to himself once he saw Luci step foot onto the carpet and in front of the cameras. He thought she looked absolutely beautiful, and he’d told her so when she sent him pictures of the entire look, saving them to his phone. He smiled to himself as he watched her, and he noticed a certain expression of uncomfortableness, making his smile vanish quickly. With a worried expression, he watched until she made it to the end of the red carpet, meeting with some interviewers, waving at fans who didn’t know who she was, and into the theatre. He let out a deep breath, glad that she was able to get through the media portion for the premiere, but he couldn’t help but feel guilty. 

On cue, his phone began to ring, and he saw that it was his mother, so he answered with an unenthusiastic tone. 

“Hi, mum.” 

“Harry, hi. How are you, darling?” Anne asked, cup of tea in hand. 

“I’m doing okay. How are you?” He tried picking his mood up from off the ground for his mum, but he wasn’t successful at it. 

“I’m doing great. We miss you. Now, do you wanna tell me how you’re really feeling? Could practically feel your mood all the way over here.” Anne tried making a joke to pick up the mood. “Does it have to do with Luci?” Harry had mentioned Luci right when she’d move in across the hall. From then on, it was like he couldn’t stop talking about her; the moment they became friends and when they started to hang out more with one another, to when he asked her to be his girlfriend—he never missed a phone call with Anne when he didn’t mention her. Of course, he told her about her career and how she was making her way up the ladder; Anne was quite excited about that because she would get to watch her movies, but then she put the pieces together and figured out that only meant Luci was apart from her son. 

Harry took a deep breath, sighing. “Luci’s at her premiere right now, and I was just watching the live stream for it. She looked so beautiful.” Harry never failed to mention how gorgeous she looked, and it made Anne’s heart smile. “Two days ago she asked me if I wanted to join her for the premiere, and I said no. I said no, mum!” 

Her brows furrowed. “Why’d you do that?” 

“Because I was nervous to be in front of the cameras. I knew I’d have to walk the carpet with her because she’d want me to, but just thinking about it, I don’t know if I’d be able to handle it. But watching the live stream just a few minutes ago, I saw how nervous she was; she didn’t have anyone beside her. It’s her first premiere ever, and I wasn’t there because I put my feelings before hers because I was selfish.” He felt an immense amount of regret in his chest as he started to cry. Luci wouldn’t get a ‘first’ premiere again, and he missed the chance to be with her, to celebrate a huge accomplishment. 

Anne’s heart sank at the sound of him crying. “I’m sure she won’t be too upset at you because she seemed pretty understanding of it.” 

“Of course she did—she had to. Things were weird at one point when she was in Singapore, and she’d only just gotten back home two days ago, so I doubt that she wanted to argue. I…I just feel so bad.” 

“Well, the only thing that would fix it would be to talk to her. Tell her you’re sorry and how you feel. You’ve got to communicate with each other.” She advised. 

The art of communication between them wasn’t entirely horrible; for one, it was difficult to communicate as it was when Luci was always working and in a different place with a fifteen hour time difference. Two, they were in a new relationship—no matter if they’d been together for ten months, they were still a new couple because they’d been separated and apart longer than they were physically together. So, they were still learning and figuring out how to do that with each other. 

“Okay. I will…” he agreed. 

Moving on from that topic, Anne told him about work and the cats, and how much she missed him. He told his mother that he’d see her on Christmas, which she’d been ecstatic about having her two children in the same house again. 

“Maybe you could bring Luci?” Anne subtly slipped in the idea to him. 

Harry chuckled. “I’m not sure. She goes back home for Christmas.” 

“Alright, just a suggestion. Make sure she knows that she’s welcomed.” 

“I’ll be sure to tell her.” 

After bidding each other goodbye for the past ten minutes, they finally managed to get off the phone after a few more conversations. 

Now, all he had to do was wait for Luci to get home and hoped she wasn’t mad at him. 

It was around eight in the evening when someone knocked on Harry’s door. He was cooking a later dinner for himself as a spontaneous idea had entered his mind to make homemade pasta. So, his hands were covered in flour, and he was lucky he had an apron on because his clothes would have flour all over it. 

Washing his hands, he headed for the door, wondering who could be knocking right now. When he opened the door, there she was: his Luci, standing in a beautiful red gown as she held her clutch in her two hands in front of her stomach. Her hair, makeup, and composure was absolutely stunning. She held herself with grace, with poise.

He was stunned. “Luciana…” 

“Hi, Harry.” She smiled. His eyes raked up and down her body, completely stupefied by her beauty; the contrast of feeling intimidated under his stare only ignited a sense of confidence for how he was looking at her. “Not gonna let me in?” Harry quickly moved to the side, opening the door wider for her as she nonchalantly walked into his apartment as the train on her dress trailed after her. 

A smirk landed on her face knowing Harry was looking at her as she walked in, and that ultimately boosted her confidence. He waited until the material of her dress was fully inside and not within the door’s swinging motion so it wouldn’t get caught under the door. 

She turned around, facing him and his eyes never left her. “How are you, my love?” Luci had a smile on her face that Harry would never get over; it permanently remained in his dreams. 

From what Harry could tell, Luci wasn’t mad or disappointed; she looked delighted and relieved to see him. 

“I’m doing better now that you’re here—and not that I’m complaining whatsoever, but isn’t the afterparty still going on?” He wondered. 

“It is. I only stayed for an hour or two. I’d rather be here, though.”

Harry blushed. “I’m glad you’re here. You look…fuck, Luciana, you look absolutely beautiful.” He rubbed his forehead as if her beauty had completely overwhelmed him, made him feel lightheaded. 

Luci was going to get changed before she knocked on Harry’s door, but she wanted him to see her in her gown, and his reaction and all the sweet compliments were totally worth staying in her dress. 

“Thank you, H. That’s very sweet.” 

“How was the premiere?” He asked; Luci took a seat on his couch, taking off her shoes before she propped them up on his coffee table as Harry followed, sitting right next to her. He grabbed her legs, bringing them across his thighs as he began massaging her feet, up her calves, and trailing up thighs—close to her inner thighs.  

Luci shifted, getting comfortable, wanting to clench her thighs together with how good his hands felt on her. “It was good! I was pretty nervous, but I had fun. It’s, like, kinda weird watching myself on the big screen. I don’t think I would get used to that.” She chuckled, leaning her head on the back of the couch. “I should get the professional pictures tomorrow, and maybe we could put them in our scrapbook?” 

Harry nodded. “I’d love that. I’m glad you had a good time.” He smiled softly before he went completely silent, stopping the movements of his hands. Luci could tell something was bothering him and had been for a while now.

“Hey.” She reached over to touch his hand. “Talk to me. You look like you have a lot on your mind.” 

“I was watching the live stream of the premiere, and I just wanted to say I’m sorry.” Luci’s brows furrowed in confusion. “I-I should’ve been there with you. I mean, I was completely selfish for not being by your side for your first premiere. I was thinking of my own feelings and how I would feel being surrounded by the chaos when I didn’t even think about how you might’ve felt. And I regret it so much. I’m so sorry.”

He brought her hands to his lips, pressing multiple soft kisses to the inside and back of her hands; Luci slightly frowned, shaking her head. 

She placed her hands on the back of his neck, placing a kiss on his forehead. “No, no. It’s okay. Hey, I’m not mad. Don’t beat yourself up.” 

“But…you’re supposed to be mad.” 

“I’m not supposed to be anything besides yours.” 

He nodded as his heart fluttered at her words. There was no look of annoyance or worry about how he politely declined her invitation. 

“Just know that I regret my decision on not going with you.” 

“It’s okay. There will be plenty of premieres—hopefully—but for now, it’s in the past and we can’t change that.” Harry let out a breath of relief. “Now, what are you making? I wanna join in.” She changed the subject to a much lighter one, hoping to get his mind to stop putting blame on him. Harry pushed his tears back, leading her to the kitchen, and she was excited to see the rolled out dough on the countertop. She clapped, telling Harry that she was going to get changed. 

She came back in a pair of white pajama pants that had little chicks on it and a black sweater; her makeup was wiped off, jewelry was taken off and put away safely on her side of Harry’s bedside table. He looked at her in awe—the same look he had when she was dressed and glammed up; his look for her would never change. 

Tears and worries had been forgotten as they rolled out the pasta dough, making different kinds of shapes and sizes. They played the ‘Mamma Mia!’ soundtrack—since that was Luci’s go-to soundtrack since the movie was a “cinematic masterpiece” as she should say—singing and harmonizing They opened a bottle of wine and raised their glasses to love and more opportunities. 

November 5, 2018 

“Okay, since your birthday is in three days, and I can’t keep a surprise to save my life…I booked us a dinner reservation in the evening.” 

Luci looked up from the November issue of the Vogue magazine that she was mindlessly flipping through. Her eyes lit up. “Really? Where?” 

“I need something to surprise you with, so you’ll know when we get there.” Harry kissed her cheek. Pouting, she gave her best puppy eyes. “Not gonna work, baby, but nice try.” 

Her face switched back to neutral. “Fine. You’re lucky I love you.” 

“Yeah, I know you do,” he teased. 

“I really do.” She put the magazine down on the table in front of her, climbing on his lap. “Like, a lot.” 

“And I love you more. Now, how about I give you an extra and early birthday gift?” He asked, rubbing his hands down her back and to her ass. 

Her hips slightly grinded down on him, causing him to fidget. “Oh, yeah? And what would that entail?” 

“Let’s go to the bedroom and find out.” 

Before she got the chance to answer, he unexpectedly ran to the bedroom, dragging her along as she squealed. Their smiles hadn’t disappeared from their faces, and they were hopelessly happy and in love. 

November 8, 2018

The school bell rang, making everyone pack up their belongings as they headed out the classroom door. Usually, Harry would stay back and get some grading done, but today, he had errands to run before his date with Luci for her birthday. He’d been so excited since the moment he told her that they had plans, which he was lucky that he hadn’t spoiled the entire evening right then and there. 

For her birthday, Harry had planned to take her out to a nice restaurant—not too fancy since fancy wasn’t really their vibe, but it was nice enough that they needed to dress up. After their meal, he planned to take her to the arcade where he would win her an arcade ring from one of those claw-machine games—that ate people’s quarters quickly—were almost impossible to win anything from, but he was determined. The arcade ring could scare her away as she may think it would be the next step to their relationship but it wasn’t anything too serious because neither of them were ready for that nor had it been discussed. He’d love to marry Luci, though, if he was being honest. They hadn’t even been together for a year, but he just had a certain feeling in his heart that she was the one—a feeling he hadn’t felt all of his life and in his past relationships. 

After their arcade shenanigans, Harry would take her to a café that closed later than usual, where they would share a Danish to satisfy their sweet tooth, and have coffee or tea that would make them wired so they would have to stay up to have romantic and sweet sex; and in between rounds, they would eat the birthday cake Harry bought her. 

He had it all planned out, and he was eager to see the excitement and surprise on her face. 

Putting his folders and belongings into his bag, he said goodbye to the last student who was walking out of his classroom. With a big smile on his face, he rushed as he was packing up, seeing as he was in a time crunch. He closed his door and made his way down the hall before he was stopped. 

“Hey, Harry! Wait up.” Harry turned around, seeing Carina jog towards him as her heels clicked against the ground. 

“Hi, Carina. What’s up?” 

“I was wondering if you wanted to go out tonight? My friends and I are going to this bar, and they have live music there, so I figured you’d be interested in that.” Her hands locked behind her back as she briefly looked down at her feet before looking up with hopeful eyes. 

“Oh, uh, thank you for the offer.” Carina had the face of rejection…again. “But today is my girlfriend’s birthday and we’re going out tonight.” 

“Right, got it. Girlfriend.” She stated. If Carina was honest, she didn’t Harry had a girlfriend, and she felt like her constant invitation to hang out made her look dumb. 

“I’m sorry. I should get going.” He started to back towards the exit of the school as he waved. 

“Yeah, have a good night. If by some miraculous reason you change your mind, call me. We’ll be out all night. You can even bring your girlfriend.” Despite the fact that she’d gotten rejected three times and there was a girlfriend in the picture, she’d kept her hopes up. She was just going to stand on the sidelines, and somehow, one day, Harry would stop playing the game and join her. 

“Uh, sure.” He waved once more before heading out. Without much thought to Carina’s invitation, he carried on to his schedule and he stopped by the stand-up shop on the sidewalk that was close to his school to buy Luci’s favorite bouquet of flowers. He saw that the ones he’d given her when she arrived home a week ago were still alive and fresh, but she mentioned that she wanted to put some in her bedroom—to brighten up her room. So, no harm in getting another bouquet of flowers. The vendor who owned the shop had noticed he was a regular, which he was grateful for, and told Harry that his lady must be a very lucky one since he’d always made sure to get her the same one. But Harry quickly countered that he was the lucky one. 

Next, he stopped by the bakery to buy her a birthday cake. Last year, he hadn’t gotten one for her and she ended up blowing candles from the bowl of ice cream they ate later that night, so he figured a proper birthday cake would top it off. He’d pre-ordered the cake a few days before—a small circle cookies n’ cream ice cream cake, enough to fit both of them. He bought the numbers ‘2’ and ‘7’ and had the baker write ‘Happy Birthday,  Luci!’ in red frosting—her favorite color. 

When he was finished with everything he needed to do, it was nearing four-thirty and the train ride back to home during rush hour would be dreadful, so he headed back home. He was glad the bakery shop had given him a brown paper bag that was big enough to put the cake in because he couldn’t risk the train suddenly stopping and having the cake fly across the subway cart. 

It was five-thirty when he opened his front door. Their reservation was at six-fifteen, so he needed to get changed and properly ready for his girlfriend, and then he’d knock on her door. 

A black button down shirt sat perfectly on his torso as the top two buttons were undone, showing his cross pendant, a peek of his tattoos, and the-barely-there but growing chest hair. He wore cream colored pants that fit him perfectly, flaring at the bottom and stopping at the perfect length to show his black Gucci boots that he’d been eyeing for a while and saved up for. He messed around with his hair; it had grown much longer and he hadn’t cut it since last year, but it showcased his curls impeccably. 

Taking out the cake, he lit the candles up, placing them out the empty spaces around the writing before he carefully took the cake and flowers across the hall, knocking on her door. 

He waited a moment before knocking again, and even then, he didn’t hear the familiar shuffling inside that always made him chuckle because Luci hated making him wait. After waiting for another minute or two, he knocked once more before he walked back inside of his own apartment, blowing out the candles before setting them on the table. He grabbed the spare key that she gave him and walked back to her door. He was starting to get worried now, and all he wanted to know was if she was okay because who knew what could have happened inside her apartment. So, he unlocked the door and let himself in. 

“Luci?” He called out, slowly walking through the hallway. He took a glance at the main portion of the apartment, but it was empty. He then made his way to her bedroom and bathroom, and there were no signs or traces of the birthday girl. Furrowing his brows, he wondered where she could be. Harry took out his phone and called, texted, and sent her voicemails at least ten to fifteen times each. 

He sat on her couch waiting for Luci to walk through the door, saying that she was sorry for being late. But as the minutes and hours went by, she didn't show; there were no texts or calls—nothing. It was nine at night when he decided to go back to his apartment. He waited for her for four hours, and the only thing that he was thinking about at the moment was: she forgot or she didn’t want to spend her birthday with him. Either one was fine, all she had to do was shoot him a call or text, and then he wouldn’t be so mad or annoyed. 

The ice cream cake was melting on the table as it’d gone through hours of not being supervised by the cold freezer. He thought about just throwing the entire thing away, but then he remembered the hard work the bakers had gone through to make this cake, so he stored it in the freezer and wiped down the table before grabbing his phone, finding the person he wanted to contact and hit call. 

“Hello?” 

“Hey. Are you still out?” He asked. 

“Yeah, we’re at Cherry on Lafayette in Soho.” The person on the other side of the call said, smiling, glad that Harry was going to join them. 

“Okay, I’ll meet you there.” 

Harry didn’t have a clue as to where Luci was, who or if she was with anyone, or if she was okay. All he wanted was for Luci to be okay, that’s all that mattered to him. Perhaps also an explanation as to why she hadn’t shown. But if she was going to be out all night, then he would too. 

With that, Harry grabbed his keys and headed out. 

Happy Fucking Birthday Luci.

It was 1:15 a.m when Harry turned the corner of his hallway. He wasn’t sure if going out was the best idea in the world. His mind seemed to be on auto-pilot, as it had the control to rile himself up, making him angry at his failed plan to make Luci’s birthday special to anxiety-driven thoughts that made him insecure, wondering if he did or said anything wrong to her that caused her to not want to spend time with him. He stood outside of his door, leaning his forehead against the doorframe as he fished for his keys in his pocket; at the same time his phone buzzed. 

Taking it out, he knew it wasn’t Luci, but it was Jeff. 

Did you get home okay? 

Typing back, he replied with Yeah, standing in front of my door right now. Thanks for tonight. 

Of course, man. Anytime. Goodluck with Luci. 

Harry didn’t reply anymore. Instead, he put his phone away and took out his keys. 

Jeff had invited Harry out for drinks with their other friend, Mitch, but Harry declined, telling them that he had plans with Luci. But since those plans didn’t pull through, he joined his friends from uni, which wasn’t the smartest idea because all he did was drink his feelings away and he hated doing that. He had ranted to Jeff and Mitch about how his night did a complete one-eighty as he hadn’t expected to be sitting at the bar with his friends but instead, in bed with his girlfriend. 

Jeff was Harry’s best friend, and he was his first friend he’d met when he was at UCLA, and they both had the idea to move to New York after college, so they did it together. A year into living in New York, Jeff had met Mitch, and they’d got along so well that Jeff decided to keep him around as a friend and introduced him to Harry. All three of them had been a group of three for two years, and they’d been lucky finding one another. 

Another pair of shoes had walked down the hall, making Harry turn his head to see who was coming. 

And in a gorgeous evergreen dress that landed above her knees, Luci was walking down the hall. If it was any day or any situation, Harry would have bedroom eyes, undressing her from head to toe before pulling her in for a kiss. But it wasn’t, and he was annoyed and pissed. 

Luci was fiddling with her keys as she giggled to herself once her eyes were set on Harry. His brows were furrowed as he watched her, and she didn’t seem to care about the extra presence in the hallway—let alone, the fact that it was her boyfriend. 

“Where’ve you been?” Harry asked in a quite demanding tone. Luci scoffed as if she was annoyed, and Harry was shocked that she was the one that was irritated.

“Harry, not now.” She hadn’t even turned around to face him, not even to apologize for not showing up; she just continued trying to find the right key and keeping herself up on the poorly chosen heels she’d worn for the night that made her heel blister. 

“Not now? The fuck you mean ‘not now?’ Did you forget we had plans?” Luci turned around, and Harry could clearly see that she was drunk—not to the point of knocking out, but it seemed like she was coming down from being at that point because she clearly managed to get back home in one piece without someone helping her. “Where’ve you been, Luci?” He asked once more. 

“I’ve been out.” 

“Yeah, I figured,” he said sarcastically. “Where?” 

“Went out with Nina to a club somewhere in Manhattan. Had a few…a lot.” She chuckled at the memory of her night. 

“Did you get my calls? My texts?” 

“Harry…I get you’re my boyfriend, but I don’t need to tell you my every move.” Luci rolled her eyes, huffing. Her drunk mind was going against all respect she had for the man in front of her. “Seems like you’ve been out too, but you don’t see me questioning you.” She pointed at him. 

The disappointment in his face never left. “I get that, and frankly, I don’t want to know your every move. But I told you that we had plans. The least you could do is call me to cancel, but no, you stood me up.” He tried to hide the sadness in his voice but it was transparent. Luci clearly heard it quite clearly, making her heart sink. “I understand that it’s your birthday and you could do whatever you want, but if you didn’t want to spend it with me then you could’ve just said so; if you weren’t gonna make it on time, you could’ve just said so.” He paused, taking a breath. “I-I was standing in the hallway for ten minutes with a cake, and waited for you inside your apartment for four hours.” 

Guilt was suddenly thrown at Luci as she looked down at her feet and curled her lips in. Tears had glossed over her eyes, but she denied them to stream down her face because she didn’t deserve to cry, she didn’t deserve to act like the victim in this situation. She kept her eyes to her feet and hands; she couldn’t even look him in the eye or else she'd let out a loud sob. 

“Harry, I’m sorry…” she started, testing her limits as she looked up at him. “I should’ve called.” 

“Yeah, you should’ve,” he said sternly. There was an awkward pause, neither of them not knowing what to say. Harry was exhausted from overthinking and all the emotions that had gone through his head, but it gave him a piece of mind knowing that Luci arrived home safely and in one piece, so he didn’t have any other reason as to why he should be standing in the hallway. “I hope you had a good birthday.” Was all he said before he walked back inside of his apartment and shut the door, not giving her a chance to respond. 

Luci sighed, letting out the sobs that she’d been holding in before she knew that she’d made a big mistake. 

November 21, 2018

Luci opened her door to her family, greeting her excitedly. They hugged her tightly before pushing past her and inside of her apartment. Beatrice and Ren had asked Luci if they could stay at her place for Thanksgiving, and Luci wasn’t going to say no to that. They’d arrived a day before so her parents could prepare dinner as they didn’t want to rush for tomorrow. Luci had gotten them all of their groceries that they needed for the dinner, insisting that she’d buy it at the beginning of the week since the stores would most likely be packed the closer it got to Thanksgiving. 

“I’m so happy you’re all here,” she told them. Beatrice looked up from the cutting board, smiling brightly. 

“Well, Ana, if we hadn’t come here, you had to come to us.” Nathan stated jokingly, putting her arm around her shoulder. 

Luci was happy Nathan wasn’t working during the Thanksgiving week and was able to join their parents on the trip. She’d missed all of them being in the same room; Luci had visited them before she left for Singapore, but it was only a brief day where Nathan wasn’t able to see her, so she was ecstatic her brother was there with her. 

“Yeah, and it’s fun being in a star’s home.” Ren teased. 

Luci giggled, shaking her head at the joke. “Barely a star, Pa.”

“Are you kidding? You definitely are a star! Already filmed for two blockbuster-hit movies all within a year. You’re moving up, Lulu.” Ren’s encouraging words made her smile; she always admired how her father was always so uplifting and optimistic. 

“I agree, Lucky. And there’s many more opportunities to come, I can tell you that.” Beatrice pitched in, not looking up from the vegetables that she was chopping with the sharp knife. Luci smiled, grabbing the small piece of carrot that she cut up before popping it into her mouth. As a mother could read their children’s minds, Beatrice noticed that Luci wasn’t herself. Usually, Luci would be very talkative and interactive when she was with her family, but now, she was quiet. “You okay, Luci?” Her mother asked. 

The only reasonable thing she could do, while Luci didn’t want to ruin their night, was to tell her mother a little white lie. 

Luci nodded. “I’m fine, Ma.” Deciding not to press her daughter any further, all Beatrice did was nod, taking her word for it but she’ll ask once more when the time was right. 

In all honesty, Luci wasn’t fine, which was obvious given her and Harry’s situation and the place that they were in at the moment. Ever since that run-in the night she got home from her spontaneous birthday adventure with Nina and some friends, he hadn’t talked to her much. He’d talk to her when he had to, when he didn’t have a choice; and it was quite hard to avoid your neighbor, especially a neighbor who was always looking through the peep-hole for your whereabouts and knew his exact schedule. 

She missed Harry, and she didn’t know how long his disappointment for her would last. 

The Suki family gathered around Luci’s coffee table, eating their traditional Thanksgiving foods; they shared laughter and stories. When Luci moved to New York, she was so afraid of being alone without her family, but she came to realize that the reunions were always so exciting and fun because they talked like they hadn’t seen each other in years. 

“Luci, is Harry coming by?” Ren asked. Luci had told them about her and Harry’s relationship when they’d been together for two months. It was during a group FaceTime when Luci had just woken up and was getting ready to leave for work. She was groggy and half asleep, as it was already noon on the East Coast—telling them that she’d visited Harry for his birthday, which caused an uproar. They were supportive nonetheless. 

At the sound of Harry’s name, she gulped, taking her time to chew and swallow her food before she answered her father. “Uh, no, I don’t think so,” she responded, which wasn’t technically a lie because she didn’t know of Harry’s whereabouts. 

“Ah, that’s too bad. We’d love to meet him properly. The last and only time we met him was at your first show last year, and you two weren’t even together yet! Crazy how time flies by, but anyways, he was a nice guy—would love to have a chat with him again.” Luci pointed her eyes at Ren, knowing what that chat could entail. “What? I’m not gonna corner him. I won’t hesitate to do so, but so far, he’s treating you well, so I can’t complain.”

He’s treating me well, but I hadn’t been treating him the same, Luci thought to herself. 

On cue, there was a strong and loud knock on the door, which startled the family. Luci looked around with wide eyes before she got up from her seat and headed towards the door. Looking through the peep-hole, she saw Harry, which was a surprise. 

She opened the door. “Hey-”

“What is this?” Harry interrupted. Luci stepped into the hallway, shutting the door behind her. He held his phone up to her face, and she scanned the article. Her eyes progressively widened as she quickly read it. 

Presented on his phone was a thread of text messages from some woman that had sent Harry pictures of her and Nina on Luci’s birthday, dancing on the tables of a bar in Tribeca. There was another picture of her and Samuel; she had her head thrown back, laughing at something that he said but she was too drunk to remember. Another picture was when Samuel leaned into her ear, whispering something that she hadn’t had a clue about. If she was being completely honest, the pictures looked intimate; they were in close proximity because of the loud music and she noticed Samuel’s eyes sparkling as he looked at her. 

Harry’s face was neutral and emotionless, but the fact that he showed no reaction or emotion only terrified her more because she knew behind the inexpressive face, he held anger inside. 

“Where did you-”

“It doesn’t matter where I got this from. Now, tell me…what the fuck is this?” 

“Harry…please let me explain.” 

“I’ll give you five seconds to start explaining or else I’ll lose it-” The door behind her opened, revealing Beatrice. 

“Harry!” She exclaimed, as if she hadn’t heard the loud voices from inside the apartment. 

He immediately put his phone down, and if he wasn’t so shy in front of cameras, then he’d definitely hit the nail in the entertainment industry because he was quick to put up a front and mask his emotions that Luci was amazed at how fast he was able to do that. 

“Beatrice, hello. It’s nice to see you again.” He smiled. 

“We were actually just talking about you! Luci mentioned that you weren’t stopping by.” Luci closed her eyes; she loved her mother, she really did, but she really needed her to not talk. 

“Did she?” Harry asked, amusing her. 

“Yeah. Did you want to come in? We have plenty of food.” 

Despite all feelings against Luci at the moment, she was still his girlfriend, and the last thing he wanted to do was be rude in front of her family. So, he told Beatrice ‘yes’ before walking past Luci and into her apartment. 

It felt like it’d been ages since he was at her place—the unfortunate event of playing the waiting game. The air felt different, and for a momentary thought, it didn’t feel like home, but he assumed he’d only been thinking that because of everything that was happening between them. 

Ren and Nathan greeted him excitedly, like the universe was listening to their conversation and had decided to bring Harry to Luci’s front door. Harry helped himself to a plate of food as his mouth watered at the aroma and sight of homemade food before joining the bunch on the couch. 

They all chatted quite well; there were no awkward moments in between. Ideally, Luci would’ve loved this moment if it were any other time. Seeing Harry communicate and laugh with her family should make her heart swoon, but her heart didn’t have the ability to do that, as of now, because all she was thinking and worried about was Harry’s reaction and how he felt when he saw that particular article. 

“Harry, I’m assuming you already saw Ocean’s Eight?” Nathan asked. 

He nodded. “Yeah, I did. Luci’s…great, isn’t she? Like, proper talented. No wonder she was casted so quickly for her second movie.” Even though he held an ample amount of irritation towards her, he would never talk badly about Luci. 

Harry looked at her, sitting beside him, finding her eyes already looking at him with a small smile on her face as if she was thanking him for always saying kind things about her; he turned away quickly before she got any ideas. 

After a few more conversations and a pie for dessert, they all decided to call it a night. Harry thanked them all for letting him be the addition to their Thanksgiving dinner, and Beatrice had told him that he was welcomed any time for the November holiday, even though he didn’t celebrate it. 

“I’m gonna walk him out.” Luci announced, but no one really listened as they cleaned up. 

They headed out her door before Harry walked into his apartment, not bothering to close the door because Luci was following him. Finally, they were alone and had time for a decent conversation. Nerves crept onto her skin because all she could think about was how this conversation could end; they could talk it out and he would eventually forgive her, or he could break up with her and that would be the end of Luci and Harry. And for the first time, she hated the butterflies that erupted in her stomach; she hated the nervous feeling she felt in her chest; she hated the pounding of her heart as she looked at Harry because they were bad nerves, not the ones that made her feel giddy. 

“I’m gonna give you a chance to explain. I don’t want to let this slide nor do I want to assume anything, so you’re going to explain everything that happened that night because the least you could do is that.” Harry crossed his arms as he spoke; the sight was intimidating. 

Luci nodded, understanding. “Okay.” Harry didn’t say anything else, he sat on his couch as he waited for her to begin; Luci took a deep breath in. “So, Nina texted me and told me to go to her place for some day drinking because it was my birthday and she missed me, so I agreed to go. She texted me at noon and I got there around one, and there were a few other people there—already wasted. I didn’t know what the occasion was because I doubted those other people knew it was my birthday.” 

“Other people?” Harry asked. 

“Yeah, Samuel and some of Nina’s friends that I don’t know.” 

“Samuel as in that guy you used to be with?” Harry also couldn’t forget about that time he saw both of them in the hallway, watching Samuel kiss her cheek. Without him fully knowing, he was jealous; he hated how much that simple gesture affected him. 

Luci gulped. “Yeah. He has a girlfriend—Daisy, remember?” He inhaled, nodding. “I was surprised he was there, too—I didn’t know he was gonna be there. Anyways, we started drinking for hours, I’m pretty sure. I’d completely lost track of time because of how drunk I was already. But I knew it was late because it was already pitch black outside. Everyone wanted to go to a club that night, and I said ‘yes,’ but before we left, Nina and her friends were up in her room doing lines, and they offered me…”

Harry furrowed his brows concerningly. “Did you?” 

“No, no! I didn’t. That part I remember because I didn’t want to be involved in that stuff. So, I sat back and waited for them. I must’ve fallen asleep for a little bit because Samuel woke me up and told me that we were leaving.” 

Throughout her and Nina’s friendship—Luci didn’t think they were that close as Nina thought they were—she wouldn’t have guessed that Nina was using. But she figured that was the reason why Samuel was there, to provide them with a stash. It was quite a shock to Luci, even in her drunken state. Nina’s friends had continuously asked Luci if she wanted to try it, to go up into the bathroom and line it up on the cold counter by the sink, but Luci declined, telling them that she was okay and that she would wait for them. Paying no mind to her, they all went upstairs; Luci heard laughter coming from the second floor along with slight moaning after each line. She put herself to sleep, which her drunkenness helped; and for what seemed like hours, Samuel had woken her up and they left for the club. 

“Okay, so the picture of you and Samuel? What’s that about?” Harry questioned. 

If Luci could remember every single word from that conversation, then she would gladly tell him, but she doesn’t; she only remembered bits and pieces of that night before she went home. But she did know that nothing but a friendly chat occurred. “We were just talking, I swear. Nothing else happened. I remember he was apologizing for how he left things and he was telling me that he was happy about all the opportunities that I was given, and he talked about Daisy; that was it.” She paused, waiting for Harry to respond, but he stayed quiet. “And then I went home, realized that I missed our date and I was so mad at myself, and I know I shouldn’t have been annoyed or acted like a bitch to you because I had no right to  act like that because you didn’t deserve it. I’m so sorry.” She apologized genuinely. 

Luci had been beating herself up over what she did, and Harry noticed. He was good at reading her mind quite well, reading her like a book. He knew that she didn’t regret going out because she missed going out freely with her friends, but what she regretted was not going home earlier so she could make it just in time for their date; she regretted not contacting Harry, telling him that she was out or that she was going to be late so he didn’t have to wait for a night of anger and loneliness. He knew that much. If she hadn’t been so regretful, then this situation would’ve turned out very different, but she simply made a mistake, and Harry wasn’t going to let her beat herself up over that. People make mistakes. It happens. 

“Okay…” He simply said. Luci looked dumbfounded over his words and how he felt. “It’s okay. We’re okay.” She let out the biggest breath of relief before wrapping her arms around his waist, laying her head against his chest. It’d been a very long two weeks since she was in his arms, since she’d heard his heartbeat close to her ear, and she never wanted to go a day without them. Luci had missed Harry; although he thinks he missed her more. 

She tilted her head up. “I’m so sorry.” Tears filled her eyes. 

“It’s okay.” He rubbed her back in reassurance, kissing her forehead. The slightest touch of his lips on her skin made a chill run down her spine; the familiar electric force had shocked her in the best and relieving way. 

They stayed in each other’s arms for a while, not letting go of one another as if they were compensating for the time that was lost when they weren’t in each other’s hold, time that was wasted. After a while, Luci lifted her head up again, exhaustedly looking deeply into Harry’s eyes; he could see how tired she was since she hadn’t gotten a decent amount of sleep since their argument. 

“Can I sleep here with you?” She asked hesitantly. 

“What about your family?” 

“They’re okay. I slept on an air mattress anyway because Nathan took the couch.” Harry slightly smiled at that. He loved how she was so selfless when it came to her family. He could tell just how much love she had for them just by simple gestures and how she admiringly talked about them. 

“Okay, let’s go to sleep.” 

He led her to his bedroom as they both climbed in under the sheets, pressing their bodies close to one another as a way to warm each other up. Their hearts were beating incredibly hard against their chests that poured out so much love, never once stopping the overload. They looked at each other, admiring the other’s features that they had memorized. If someone had asked them to draw a portrait of their significant love, they would draw each other with perfect precision.  

“I love you. I always will.” Luci said within the midst of appreciating one’s art. 

“I love you too.” 

They quietly and slowly drifted off to sleep. Luci was the first to meet her slumber, and as Harry watched her as he scratched her head, watching the way she would deeply inhale and exhale, he then fell asleep. 

That night, their sleep was undistracted and peaceful, and one of the best night’s rest they’d ever gotten within the past two weeks without the knowledge of the storm that was coming. 

December 28, 2018 

The indescribable bliss and love had lasted for thirty-six days until shit broke loose again. 

For thirty-six days, Harry and Luci laughed, made love, spent their days together, and simply enjoyed the other’s presence. Their argument was long forgotten and in the past; Harry had forgiven her for everything she’d done and said that night on her birthday, and all was good again. 

They were separated during Christmas; Harry went back home to Manchester as Luci went to Massachusetts. They considered spending the holiday with one another, but it wouldn’t have worked out since Harry’s family was in a completely different country. Luci, a person who can’t stand not seeing her family during the holiday, was thinking about going to England with Harry since he’d told her so many times that Anne would love to meet her and Gemma in person, but he couldn’t take her away from her family. So, he told her that there will be another time to do so, just not during a busy time. 

Despite the time off, Luci was getting calls from Thea and Samantha, asking her if she’d want to work again in the next year, which Luci said an obvious yes to, so they booked her an audition for a television series that was about solving crimes and detective ethics; the first episode for the series was airing in the Fall of next year. She’d have to film throughout the end of Spring and going into the Summer, but it wasn’t as hectic and fast paced as a film production, thankfully. 

Both Harry and Luci had decided to go back to New York just a tad bit earlier than when they’d usually leave for the holidays. Luci was excited to see her boyfriend again, and Harry? He couldn’t say the same. 

Some random thought in his head told him to check his emails when he was waiting for his luggage at baggage claim. He mindlessly scrolled through the unopened emails that mostly included the subscriptions for his streaming services, his favorite clothing stores since he had a habit of shopping online way too much, and random stores that he never bought anything from but typed in his email anyways to get a free coupon for a percent off of something. But an email that caught his eye was from one he couldn’t recognize—most likely a pseudonym to reach him. 

The email read: Might wanna check this out with a link that took him to a well-known media site, The Mass, that was known for twisting a celebrity’s word around. Not thinking of it too much, he read the headline that contained Luci’s name. He smiled a bit as this was the first article that was ever released of her. Just as he was about to send her the link, he kept scrolling, scanning over every word that was stated in the article. His smile had disappeared within every sentence that he read. His brows furrowed as he processed the words he was reading. And his heart sank throughout the entire article. 

He put his phone away, grabbing his luggage that had circled around at least twice, and headed home. Harry tried to stay calm throughout the entire trip back home but his mind was swirling with unwanted thoughts, betrayal, and doubted love. 

As he stood in front of his door, the door behind him had swung open, and before he got the chance to turn around, a pair of familiar arms were wrapped around his waist. 

“Hi, my love. I missed you.” Luci’s hands rubbed up and down his chest, missing the feel of him. He hadn’t said anything, not one greeting. Instead, he turned around, making her grip on him loosen as he looked down at her. She was smiling, clearly clueless as to what he was feeling at the moment and oblivious about the article that was published about her. 

Luci tiptoed to reach his lips before giving him a kiss. Just through that kiss itself, she knew something was wrong; he didn’t even kiss her back, which only pained both of them. 

“Are you okay?” She asked. There was a bit of silence; the only thing that could be heard was Harry’s heartbeat that was pounding through his ears. “Hey, talk to me.” 

Taking a deep breath, he started, “It took you thirty-six days for you to mess it all up again.” 

Brows furrowed in confusion, Luci pulled back slightly. “What are you talking about?” She asked softly. 

“Did Thea not tell you about the article that was published about you?” She shook her head, and Harry took a deep breath; he didn’t like that he was the one that had to inform her about it. “Someone sent me an article that was published on The Mass. It was an interview that took place after you filmed for Ocean’s Eight.” 

Fuck. 

A sudden realization hit her as she remembered the things she said in that interview—none of them were necessarily bad, but she did lie and say that she didn’t have a boyfriend when Harry was waiting for her at home. 

The interview with Audrey had completely slipped her mind. She thought it would have been posted after the premiere, or even after filming was finished, but there was no story or article on her for months on end, so she’d forgotten about it and thought that it was completely dropped. 

Her guess was that since her name was being put out there after filming for two big films, more people would want to read up on her. And she was glad now that people were more likely to search up her name on the search engine, but she really wished a section of that article didn’t exist. 

“When did that interview happen?” He asked, breaking her out of her thoughts. 

Luci took a deep breath. “In April.” 

Harry closed his eyes for a moment, rubbing the skin between his eyebrows before he opened his eyes. “April. We were together in April. In fact, we never stopped being together. Why would you say you didn’t have a ‘lover’ or a boyfriend?” 

“I…” 

“Do you not want to be together? Is that what this is?” His tone was overbearing as it started to become more stern as he kept pressing. 

“Of course, I want to be together-”

“Because it really seems like you don’t. Fuck, Ci. Do you even love me?”

“Yes! I love you!” She raised her voice, interrupting him as she wasn’t giving him a chance to speak. “How could you even question that?” Her eyes were filled with tears with how overwhelmed she was. “I love you so fucking much that it hurts. You’re everything to me, Harry. I want you all the time; I knew that from the moment I met you. So don’t doubt my love for you ever again.” 

There was something attractive about declaring your love to someone so passionately in the middle of an argument that it almost made the other person want to rip their clothes off and fuck them in the hallway. That’s what Harry was thinking about right now, as inappropriate the timing was. Rage filled Luci as she proclaimed and spewed out her love; Harry, her love for Harry was her extreme joy. 

“I don’t understand how you could say something like that, though.” He sighed, crossing his arms. 

“I didn’t think this is what you wanted. You do realize that my name is spreading? And once they find out about you, all they’ll do is want pictures of you, even when I’m not with you! Is that what you want? Because I don’t. That’s a huge invasion of privacy that I’m not willing to share. No matter how much I love you, I don’t want to share you with the world.” 

He nodded, understanding her words. But he felt a bit overwhelmed at the moment, and just needed time to breathe. “Okay. Just…just give me some time. I’m kinda overwhelmed with everything.��� 

Luci sighed sadly, but there was nothing she could do; she wasn’t going to deny him the space that he requested. “Alright.” She watched him open his door before entering, turning around to face her. “I love Harry. That’s going to change, I hope you know that.” 

“I do.” He nodded. “Goodnight, Ci.” 

Closing his door had, in a way, represented putting his guard up. He had been living freely with his guard down for a little more than a year, and this situation and the one prior had scared him a bit, so he needed to take some control in his feelings and his life; and if putting one guard up out of the four, then so be it.

Luci had spent the night alone, which was the exact opposite of her expectations when reuniting with Harry. She cried into her pillow, regretting every bad decision she made that had caused pain to him. 

She then realized that he never said he loved her back, and he always said it back. 

December 30, 2018 

Luci didn’t have a clue as to how she survived the two weeks that Harry was mad at her because it seemed like the day and a half she was living through seemed much longer. 

They hadn’t spoken since their reunion that turned into an argument, leading to Harry being disappointed in her…yet again. 

Her anxiety was sky-rocketing; perhaps, that may be because she’d messed up twice already, so her thoughts had been on edge as they told her that this was the end—that he was done with her shit. She held so much love for him that she hoped that he didn’t see it as the end of the road—Luci didn’t know if she could handle that heartbreak, even though she was the one who caused him some pains and aches. 

He doesn’t deserve that, he never did. 

You don’t deserve him, her subconscious told her. Rolling her eyes to herself, she tried to push the negative thoughts out of her mind as they were driving like it was a race track, making her head hurt. The knock on her door had taken her out of her own head. 

When she swung the door open, Harry was standing on the other side. He gave her a small smile—not the smile that he usually greeted her with, which she awfully missed very much, but it was a smile that was shown because he didn’t want to make it clear that he was disappointed. 

“Hi, H.” Luci greeted softly. 

“Hey, uh, are you busy?” 

She shook her head. “No, I’ve got time for you.” Her words didn’t mean to come out in a flirty way, rather she meant them well and clearly. 

“Okay. Do you wanna go to our spot?” He asked hesitantly. Harry had to encourage himself to even knock on her door, and he hated how tentative he was; that’s your girlfriend, for fuck sake, he had told himself. 

“Yeah, of course. Let me just get my things.” Luci was always up for a trip to Coney Island; the spot that they made theirs. The spot that held so many memories and the most significant memory that beach held was the start of their love for one another. 

Sure, it wasn’t the best idea to visit the beach during the wintertime, but neither of them cared enough to think about the temperature or if the soft grainy sand was covered in snow; they just needed to be in that specific place with one another. 

The ride there was a quiet one—not so much peaceful as their minds were running haywire, but they’d managed to get to the cold beach without saying a word. They simply fell into an in sync step, walking side by side as their glove covered hands were stuffed inside of their own coat pockets for extra warmth when Luci would usually hold his hand inside of his pocket and cuddle up against each other as they walked through the cold. 

Settling on the familiar spot on the snow covered sand, they stood a foot apart with their arms crossed as they watched the ocean crash onto the shore. Warmth radiated off their bodies due to the tension and nerves that coursed through their veins, which suddenly made the cold bearable as they stood next to each other. The only thing that was heard was the sound of nature, the sound of Mother Earth’s specialties that had surrounded them into a bubble of stillness. The silence was deafening. 

Luci loathed the tension-filled silence; it definitely wasn’t her favorite thing when it came to her relationship with Harry. She had approximately three moments with him that included nerves filling her body; when she was in Singapore and told him that she didn’t feel like talking to him; the unfortunate event on her birthday that was entirely her fault; and the event that they’re going through now, yet again, her fault. She tried her very best to never get that certain feeling again, but she felt like a failure in doing so. And the only way they were going to fix it was by getting vulnerable, getting real; she’d felt like she did a very poor job with communicating on her end, and she was going to try to fix it. 

“Someone had once told me that I was unlovable,” she started. “They said those words right to my face, and you could imagine how shocked I looked when they said them. They’d told me that the reason why I wasn’t in a real relationship all my life was because no one wanted me; they didn’t even look twice when I walked past them. No one was interested in me.” 

She sighed, looking at Harry from her peripheral vision, and he still had his sight facing the water, but she knew that he was listening intently. 

“And that’s hard coming from a family that was filled with so much love and respect for one another. It was a different reality than what I was used to. My parents make it seem so easy to love me, even though I’m a pain in their ass, but they never really complained about all my wants. When that person told me the harsh reality, I pushed people away. Whoever got close. Even when people had asked me out and seemed like they were interested in me throughout the years, I pushed them away and rejected them because I didn’t want to endure the pain that was inevitable.” 

Turning her body towards him, she was shaking from the cold but also the ability to be vulnerable in front of her boyfriend for almost a year. 

“Harry…” she called out softly. He looked at her, completely facing Luci. “I’m sorry for everything. I truly am. I’m sorry for pushing you away, and for not being here enough. I’m sorry for taking your kindness for granted and for making you doubt my love for you. You don’t deserve any heartache, and I promise, I’m still trying. I’m still new to this relationship stuff, so please be patient. I will spend forever trying and trying, trying to make you happy.” 

Her words almost made a sob rip out of his mouth, but he contained his emotions well. Luci was cold, pouring out apologies and begging her for his forgiveness; she was new to vulnerability. 

“I know I made a mistake—several of them—but I’m trying. If you…don’t want to be with me, then that’s understandable; I won’t blame you because, yeah, I haven’t been that great of a girlfriend to you and you deserve so, so much better; and I am sorry I couldn’t be that person to make you happy.” Her voice trailed off, cracking. Harry’s heart nearly broke at the sound of her voice as he tried to contain his emotions. “But miraculously, if you decide to forgive me, then we could work everything out. We’ll still grow and learn new things about each other, and it’ll be good from there, right?” 

The sound of hope in her voice rang in his ears, and he couldn’t dare to listen to the heartbreak if he were to call it quits, which was a shock to hear her say that because she must’ve thought he was ending it for good; that thought made him sad. An abrupt flashback pounded in his brain as he remembered the happy memories they had with one another. A simpler time before the rain. 

Just last year, they were in this exact same spot, watching the sun go down with one another in their arms. But as of now, they were standing a foot apart from each other, instead of sharing a kiss at how their relationship had made it through an entire year of ups and downs; they were unsure of their next move. 

They had kept one another warm in the cold weather that breezed through them, but now, it seemed colder than usual. The air had wrapped its coldness around them, engulfing them into a hug. 

Why didn’t the sun setting come with a warning sign to let them know what kind of storm was coming for them? It felt like their worlds had washed away into a whirlwind of displeasurable emotions; one they’d hoped they were strong enough to break through the storm. 

Quite early in their relationship, they knew their relationship was going to be something special; they knew it was going to be one that was worth all the pain they’ve endured in the past; they knew it was the long haul that would last. The one obvious question that had run through their head like it was plastered on the big screen and written on the whiteboard was: how did everything go downhill so quickly? 

He loved Luci with his entire heart. Sure, she’d made a few mistakes, but who hasn’t? They still had some issues to work out, such as communication and trust aspects of their relationship. But he wasn’t ready to let her go, and he really wasn’t planning on it. So, he said: 

“We're gonna work this out.” 

that’s the end of book one! 

please come and talk to me about your favorite scenes and moments, and your thoughts and feelings! thank you so much for reading <3 book two will be posted soon! 

[fluffymisha97]

Baby Rose

Summary: Reader and Chris had a little baby girl. But not everything is going that well, you're both trying to navigate life as new parents.

You were desperately trying to get your 3 month old baby to sleep. But that wasn't happening anytime soon. She just kept crying and crying. You felt like the worst mother ever. You couldn't even comfort your own child. You tried everything that you could think of.

You were bouncing her slightly while singing every lullaby you knew. Nothing worked. Dodger was on floor in the nursery looking at you two. After an hour of non stop wailing, the dog ran elsewhere. You didn't blame him. You went to get your phone to text Chris.

You kept bouncing Rose on your hip while she cried at the top of her lungs. You tried calling him but it went straight to voice mail. He was supposed to be home by now.

"Oh I know, I know baby. Daddy isn't home yet. It's okay we can do this. He'll be home soon."

Rose got a bit quiet at the mention of Chris. But she was still unhappy. You tried to put her in the stroller and walk around the house but that only seemed to make it worse. By now you had called Chris three times and still no answer.

You could feel your own tears forming and a lump caught in your throat. You even considered calling your mom for help but it wasn't like she was the most maternal person you knew. So instead you called Chris's mom. Lisa answered almost immediately.

"Hi Lisa, sorry for calling you so late but I just..."

You couldn't help but let out a sob.

"Sweetheart, what's going on? Talk to me."

You couldn't find the words and was borderline hyperventilating. It felt as if you couldn't breathe.

"Come on Y/N sweetie you gotta breathe. Take deep breath. We can do it together. Listen to my breathing and try to match it... That's so good, hun you're doing great."

You could feel yourself calming down from each breath you took. 

"I don't know what to do. Rose has been crying for hours now and I can't get her to stop. I tried singing, the swaddling, rocking her, feeding, changing... Nothing helps. I CAN'T do it. I'm a horrible mom. And I'm all alone. Chris isn't answering his phone and I don't know what to do. And I can't do it by myself."

"Sweetheart listen to me. You're a good mother and I know that because I've seen it. Okay, all of this is still new and you guys are getting the hang of it. I picked up most things along the way. I was nervous and scared each time but it takes time."

You and Lisa talked for a little bit and you had never been more thankful for her. She knew exactly what to say. You had grown closer to Lisa after the birth. The three of you had stayed at his family home for a month or so after Rose was born. Lisa had been such a great help.

Lisa had offered to come over to help you seeing as she only lived half an hour away. But you being you didn't want to burden her any further. The two hung up then phone and you went back to your daughter that were still crying.

Not long after did you hear a door open. You thought it was Chris but when you turned around you came face to face with Lisa.

You could almost cry all over. You had never felt more relieved, she walked over and hugged both you and Rose. She quietly took Rose from you and sat in the rocking chair and started humming a tune. You had never been more thankful for Lisa.

You tiptoed out of the nursery and went down to the living room. A little while later, Lisa emerged from upstairs and went to sit with you. You then poured out your heart to her and she listened. Each time Rose got a bit fussy, Lisa went to see her. She offered to spend the night so that you could rest.

About two hours later Chris came home. Dodger went to greet him at the door and you had stayed glued to the couch of exhaustion. Several days of insufficient sleep was catching up with you.

Chris went to get a beer and sat down next to you. Chris wrapped up an arm around you and you automatically leaned into his touch.

"Hey. Where were you?"

"After working on game plan for ASP, Mark invited us to stay for a beer afterwards."

You could feel your body boiling with anger now despite the exhaustion. You turned your head and glared at him before standing up.

"So I'm home alone with your baby while you're out drinking beer with your buddies"

"Hey, why are you getting upset? You make it sound like that's the only thing that I've been doing."

"Oh I'm so sorry honey. That was inconsiderate of me. You know what else is inconsiderate, you leaving me all alone with Rose when we had a deal."

"I'm sorry but one of us has to keep working towards a normal every day like. I'm working my ass off trying to get things ready for the big launch of ASP."

"I do understand that Chris. But I recall you saying before Rose was born, that you would still help me and that we would figure things out. But here I am all alone in this. Even when you're home it's like you're not here."

Chris was quiet for a while and didn't really know what to say. You threw your hands in the air and went to go upstairs.

"I'm going to bed now and I would prefer it if you slept on the couch seeing how the guest room is occupied."

He was about to ask you who was using the guest room but kept his mouth shut. Chris watched as you walked upstairs with Dodger hot on your heels. Chris turned on the TV and sipped his beer but he couldn't shake was you'd just said.

Chris had done as you had told him and spent the night on the couch. He could feel his back aching. He then caught the scent of freshly brewed coffee and followed the smell and found his mother working her way around the kitchen.

"Hey... Ma. What are you doing here?"

"Don't you 'Ma me' Christopher Robert Evans. I'm here because your girlfriend needs you. Y/N can't do all of this alone. She and that little baby needs you to step up."

"Ma, I was only a few hours late last night. And apparently she had you around to help out. I don't get why she got so upset. It was just a one time thing."

"Chris, honey that's just plain dumb. Because this hasn't been a one time thing. You're leaving her all alone and coming and going as you please. You don't see Y/N do that, do you? I know that ASP and your other projects has been a handful and I'm truly proud of you for doing something you're so passionate about. But as your mother I am compelled to say when you're acting like a idiot. If you don't start to prioritize better, then I fear Y/N isn't going to stick around in the long run."

"What am I supposed to do? Can you just... "

"Chris, you have to figure this out for yourself. But trust me if things aren't going to change. You're going to risk losing them both and I know that you don't want that. Chris, be the dad that you're meant to be."

Chris stayed for a while in the living room after his talk with his mother thinking about she'd just said. Chris watched as Lisa went upstairs to say bye to his daughter and girlfriend. Chris went up to stairs and hugged his mom as she was leaving. She gently patted his cheek confident that her son would to the right thing.

Chris could her your voice from the hallway. You were humming a tune as you changed Rose's diaper. The baby giggled and was flailing her small chubby arms in the air. She was just the cutest baby in the while wide world. Rose had her dad's eyes but your lille button nose. When you were done you picked up Rose to go downstairs.

You came face to face with Chris who had been watching from the doorway. Chris always had a very telling face. You knew that he felt bad but it wasn't enough. You marched straight past Chris and went downstairs where you put Rose on her playmat. You went to the kitchen to prepare yourself some breakfast and get Rose's food ready. You could feel Chris's eyes in the back of your head.

Rose was babbling while trying to reach some of her toys. She was doing a little more every day. Dodger came over and laid down next to Rose. Rose rolled bit over to try and pet the dog with her uncoordinated grabby hands. Dodger didn't seem to mind at all.

You smiled at the sight but your smile fell as you saw Chris's sad expression. He felt like he missed it all. He hadn't even noticed how big of a psychical development she had gone through. He had been around of course but hadn't been paying good enough attention to what was happening.

Chris sat down on the couch and watched his beautiful daughter in disbelief. He had no one to blame but himself. This right here was something that he'd wanted for so long and now was missing out. You walked over to Chris and kneeled down in front of him.

"I can't believe how much that has happened and I didn't even notice. Y/N I'm really sorry."

Chris continued apologizing while saying there was no excuses for his behavior or actions. You cut him off.

"I know, Chris. But we have to find a better solution. I know that one of us has to work and everything. But there has to be a easier way for us all. Rose and I need you here too..."

"Yes. I'll figure something out. I’ll talk with Mark about finding something more fitting to our situation. I'll fix it. I promise."

Chris later watched as you fed Rose. His heart swelled from the sight, watching you and his daughter. He couldn't afford to miss out on anything else in you or Rose's lives. He couldn't bear it. He made a deal with Mark about working as much as possible from home. Chris loved you and Rose so much and he would do anything to make it work.

And on that day he had never been more thankful for knowing the two best mothers in the world. His mother Lisa, for calling him out in his BS. You, for having Rose's best interest at heart and for giving him a chance to be a better dad.

(An idea I got earlier today. NOT that I'm saying Chris would be a bad dad or anything. He’ll most likely be an amazing dad when the time comes.  This is strictly fiction - please don't hate me. BUT I have my doubt about this one being okay or not. 

There's probably some errors here and there and timeline might not fit) 🤷‍♀️😅

[padfootagain]

Such A Silly Game

Here we go with a second fic for Ben's week!! Today’s writing prompt was ‘a moment’. Join us on @benbarnesbirthdayparty​ to follow the event. This is a modern AU for Caspian! I am very proud of this little piece, I hope you like it.

Just so you know, it was meant to be a drabble. Then it became a regular one-shot, and turns out, it became a 7k-long fic... Ooops...

Anyway, enjoy!

WARNING for mentions of injuries, explosions and violence.

Tell me if you like my little fic :)

Word Count: 7365

"Lionheart is on the move."

"Copy that. Everything's clear all the way to the hotel."

"Have you checked the hotel itself."

"Of course. We're all good."

"We'll soon be there."

You ended the phone call, putting the device back in the pocket of your vest, and you nodded to your colleagues waiting for your signal a few metres down the street. The two of them climbed in the black car parked in front of the one you would be using tonight. You turned to your three other colleagues who stood by your side in front of the Narnian embassy.

"Get ready to leave," you ordered to two of them. "Marco and I will take care of the King's car. Stay close to us."

You patted the shoulder of one of your colleagues, who was younger than all of you. It was her first day as an official bodyguard serving the King of Narnia, and she was nervous as hell. After a long and difficult training, she was finally ready.

"Don't worry too much. It's Manhattan. The threat level is not that high," you reassured the young Denise. "Besides, you're paired with Reep! He's the best mentor you can have...  after me, of course."

"Ha... but Y/N here is too busy running the whole show, being the head of his Majesty's security to take care of the new recruits," your friend Reepicheep laughed at you. "Come on, let's get ready. The King will soon walk out of the embassy. And tonight, I pay for the beers!"

"Why the merry mood?" you asked, raising a playful eyebrow in surprise.

"Well, you've just said that I was a father now!" he replied, gesturing at Denise and making all of you laugh.

"Hey! I've been working with all of you for six months already!" Denise protested.

"Only as a trainee. Now, you're an official bodyguard!" Marco replied, nudging your new recruit.

"Congrats, by the way," you gave Denise an encouraging smile. "Now, go to work!"

"Yes, Ma'am!" your three colleagues chimed, and Reep and Denise walked over to the car behind yours.

One car on the front, one behind, along with three motorcycles came to complete the guard of King Caspian X. His diplomatic mission at the U.N. was about to end, only a few days left before you would find the quiet of your homeland again. Not that you complained about the charm of this city, but the threats were much greater in number on foreign soil for the King, which meant more work and more stress for you.

You had been working as his personal bodyguard for six years and been his head of security for two more. Eight years by his side, spending your days and nights thinking about his safety. You had protected him on every continent and in dozens of nations. And if it wasn't exactly recommended for you to admit it, you had formed a strong friendship with the King.

Or well, perhaps it was a little more than a friendship the two of you shared, but you were both painfully aware that you shouldn't act on it. Not in an easy way, at the very least. The King entering a romantic relationship with his bodyguard would bring the media on fire. It would eclipse every other project he might want to work on. And both of you would have to face hell. None of you were ready to take that step, or at least, you both assumed that the other wouldn't want to go through this. There were moments though when you would think like your feelings were shared, that he did see you in this tender light too. There had been a handful of moments, even, when you had thought that he might kiss you. It had never happened though. You reckoned that it never would. Besides, you knew the King well enough by now to be sure that he wouldn't risk putting both of you through all this mess if he weren't certain that his feelings for you were strong enough to resist the chaos.

You guessed that it meant that he didn't see this in you, after all.

The front door of the embassy opened, revealing the King confidently walking out. He was accompanied by two bodyguards who never left his side, no matter where he went. They would join the teams in the front car. You and Marco greeted the sovereign with a bow, and he nodded at the two of you, thanking Marco when he opened the door for him.

He settled in the back of the car while you sat in the passenger's seat and Marco would drive you through Manhattan.

"Is His Majesty ready to return to the hotel?" you asked, and he nodded once more.

You gave the signal to the other cars, and within seconds, you were on the road.

"Miss Y/L/N, you wouldn't happen to have a..."

But Caspian fell silent when you handed him a bottle of water and a box of aspirin before he could probably ask for it. He chuckled, accepting the medicine.

"Thank you. I guess I'm that predictable, huh?"

"You were to meet several other leaders today, I reckon anyone would end that kind of day with a migraine."

"How was your day? Not too much, I hope."

"Everything is ready for you at the hotel, Your Majesty."

He chuckled, before swallowing the drug and rubbing circles on his temples in an attempt to shush the pain that pierced his skull.

"That is not what I was asking, but I'm glad to know that too. Although, knowing both of you and your team, I had no doubt my room would be secured long before I would arrive there."

You couldn't refrain a proud smile.

"Thank you for your trust, Your Majesty."

"You still haven't answered my question."

"Our day was pretty uneventful," you finally answered, your smile widening by the minute.

"Have you celebrated Miss Amos's first day as an official member of staff yet?" he asked, and you felt your heart swell with affection towards him.

He always remembered everything. You wondered how he did it. How, despite all of his duties, he still thought about every single person who worked for him.

"We were thinking about celebrating tonight," Marco joined in.

"Get a bottle of champagne on my account," Caspian instructed with an excited smile. "It's always a good feeling to welcome someone in our little world."

"It is, indeed."

"I have a few files to go through before we arrive. So..."

He handed you his phone.

"If someone calls, I am either dying or peeing."

You couldn't refrain a laugh, shaking your head.

"You shouldn't joke about dying, your Majesty. And especially not with your security team."

"I guess not," he answered, struggling to refrain his smile.

He picked up a couple of files, and started working again.

He was lost in laws and treaties and numbers and statistics. He rubbed his tired eyes, but focused on the documents on his laps despite his headache. You guessed that he would remain silent for the rest of the ride, so you turned to look at the shining lights of Manhattan at night instead. It was a beautiful sight indeed, of lights stretched with speed and reflections upon the Hudson River. The loud noise of the busy city still managed to sip inside the vehicle, honking cries and shouts and the humming of motorbikes speeding up across the large lanes. It was a rhythm that didn't really suit you: loud, busy, never-ending. You much preferred the slower pace of Narnian lives.

Despite your wandering thoughts, you remained focused on what was going on outside your car. You reckoned that as the King's head of security, you never truly relaxed. You were always monitoring whatever was happening in his vicinity, always attentive to details in every scene that played before you. A habit that was hard to lose once off-duty, but you didn't really mind. Maybe it was because of how you felt for the king, you reckoned that it was no bother to you to always be thinking of him.

You were outstandingly good at your job, and Caspian was well aware that he owed you his life, and did so on many occasions. How many plots had you brought down before they would come to fruition as an attempt on his life? He didn't know the exact number, but he was pretty certain that he wouldn't be able to count them on only his two hands. You didn't tell him about these things though, except when you were worried that a threat might still be out there. Otherwise, he would learn about your work through Reep, most of the time. He reckoned that it was just how you were: too humble to bring your good work to the light it deserved. Actually, you simply reckoned that the King had more important things to do than to listen to threats that were not relevant anymore. You did tell everything to the Prime Minister though, she had asked for the reports of all your operations. But if you could take at least one worry off of your sovereign's shoulders, then you would happily do so.

It was because you were so competent that you had quickly been promoted to a higher position in the King's security team. All your colleagues liked to praise you in saying that if you hadn't been in the team, the King would most likely not be in such a good health today.

So, it really wasn't because of your incompetence, or because of the incompetence of anyone in your team, that the quiet ride to Caspian's hotel turned into such a dangerous situation.

Because there was no emails to be found between the perpetuators of the attack upon the King that night, nor were there any strange online activity to be monitored, nor any suspicious discussions over the phone to be listened to. Every step was planned face to face between their instigators, and there was no way you could have guessed that an attack was planned for tonight.

How did they know how to find the King tonight, you never really found out. There were many mysteries about this particular moment that would take years to be revealed. And many important things would unfold in the very short time during which the attack took place. Their consequences though would linger on for many, many years.

You were always surprised by how the followers of Caspian's uncle kept his fight alive, despite the fact that his attempted coup resulted in their leader's death. You guessed that loyalty, even when misplaced, had no end. And with a bit of thinking, you understood the feeling. You reckoned that nothing could ever break your loyalty towards Caspian.

If you were supposed to hold your loyalty to the throne, you were well-aware that you had shifted your allegiance to Caspian himself long ago. Ever since he had shared his biscuits with you on that sunny afternoon in the royal gardens of Cair Paravel. You had talked like two friends, basked in the warm sun and the distant whisper of the sea. That was the first time that he was fully Caspian with you instead of the King. That was when you had fallen for him. You remembered every second of it...

But the scent of roses was long gone and at the moment at stake, you were about to face the greatest risks you had ever taken.

It was so sudden, like a flash. Everything was normal in the busy street, and the next second the car before you was bursting into flames.

Marco hit the breaks just as your foot made the same movement against the floor of the car, as a reflex. All three of you were projected forward with the strength of the deceleration, before hitting back your seats.

"What's going on?" Caspian asked behind you, a little out of breath. "Is anyone hurt?"

But you weren't given an occasion to speak, as loud gunshots rang through the night, the bullets crashing against the bulletproof windows interrupting you.

"Get down, Your Majesty!" you ordered, and for once, Caspian was the one to obey an order without a complain.

You unclasped your seatbelt and moved to check on Marco, who was holding his head.

"Are you alright?"

"Yeah, just banged my head against the wheel."

A new sequence of gunshots came in an outburst, but the glass was holding on for now. You looked around, trying to calm your breathing and your pounding heartbeat. No matter how panicked you were and scary the situation was, you needed to analyze what you had to be done. Assess the situation and act.

Assess and act.

"Your Majesty, are you hurt?" you asked, trying to control the shakiness in your voice as you scanned the street.

"No, I'm fine. Are you both okay?"

"We're fine."

Chaos was raging outside. People were running away to find shelter out of the street, abandoning their cars in the middle of the road in their panicked state. Which meant that the roads ahead were all blocked or would soon be. Anyway, ahead, the first car was burning in bright and tall red flames, completely forbidding any way out. The gunshots were coming from the right side of the street, you guessed from one of the buildings.

You reached for your radio.

"Does anyone copy?"

"Hear you loud and clear," Reep's voice came a little distorted through the radio. "Lionheart?"

"We're all fine. What's your status?"

"Unharmed. A bit bruised, but nothing to worry about."

"Is the road behind you clear?"

"No, blocked by a bus that was left there in the panic."

You checked your watch. Only a minute or so must have passed since the beginning of the attack.

"Stay put," you ordered.

No one answered from the first car, and you had to push your grief and worry for you colleagues aside for now. All that mattered at this precise moment was to get the King to safety.

"Your Majesty, there's a bulletproof vest under the driver's seat, put it on."

"Already done," Caspian replied. "What do we do? The streets are blocked?"

You nodded, and couldn't help but be impressed by how calm Caspian was despite the circumstances.

"I'm working on that," you replied, looking around the street again.

"We stay here and wait for help?" Marco asked.

"No, we need to get out of here, the windows won't hold forever."

"I agree with Miss Y/L/N on that one," Caspian nodded.

You spotted the entrance of a subway station a few dozens of meters away. You would have to cross the road, a piece of grass and another road that seemed completely blocked by a set of abandoned cars.

What if they had chosen this spot because they wanted to trap all of you in the subway?

But the next set of bullets made cracks run across the windows, and you reckoned that you didn't really have a choice.

"We're gonna aim for the subway, on the left."

"It's too far away," Marco shook his head.

"Reep," you called over the radio. "We're gonna make a run for the subway station on the left."

"Copy that."

"Get as close as you can with the car," you instructed to your colleague. "Your Majesty, stay down, and be ready to get out of the car quickly."

Caspian merely nodded, bracing himself against your seat.

Your colleague obeyed, starting the car again and driving as fast as he could towards the subway. But there was no way the car could pass between the oak trees that bordered the second road you had to cross. You had to get out of the car while still on the grass.

Reep and Denise stopped their car next to yours, turning the car to create a large protection for your team.

"What about the front car?" Denise asked as she and Reep joined your group.

But you shook your head.

"No response. And the priority is to get the King to safety."

Your young colleague nodded.

"Everyone in formation around the King," you ordered. "You all know what to do."

And indeed, there was no need for more words. You surrounded Caspian, using your own bodies to shield his. It was a quick run to the subway. Just one road to cross. But you would be in plain sight then.

"Your Majesty, are you ready?"

He studied the way your eyes were filled with fear. It was an expression that was easy to read on your features then. He spotted the sweat across your forehead, and the way your chest rose and fell more than usual. But there was determination as well as panic to be read in the frown that creased your brow.

He knew that this moment might be the last you shared. There was no reason to deny the truth. You were all risking your lives now, and he was painfully aware that it was his fault if you were in harm's way. Still, he reckoned that you wouldn't change a thing if you could. You would still choose to stand beside him.

There were many things he longed to admit, and many confessions he ought to make before dying, but now was not the time. Despite the urgency of this moment, despite the danger, he couldn't simply blurt out the fact that he loved you with all his heart, and had done so for years.

After all this, then, he decided. It would be the reason why you'd both have to survive this, so he could tell you at last.

"I'm ready, Miss Y/L/N."

You took a deep breath, giving him a short nod, before turning your gaze towards your goal.

You could make a stop behind a car, before finishing to cross the street.

"We aim for the cab over there," you instructed. "On three. One."

The four bodyguards gathered around their King, much to his dislike. It was their job though, to protect him at all cost, and he understood it. He understood that he was the King, and despite his country being a constitutional monarchy, his role was still key in the government and the health of his country's economy. He understood it, and he hated it.

You were right behind him, your arm reaching across his back. You would be shielding him on his right, and he was well aware that it might be the most dangerous position to be in at that moment.

Still, he remained silent, and let Reep position himself by your side, and your colleagues before them.

"Two."

Your heart was beating so fast, faster, you reckoned, that it had ever beaten. You were struggling to breathe, and yet, you were painfully aware of Caspian's scent of cinnamon and orange blossom.

You closed your eyes to focus, to gather your strengths. There was no mistakes allowed, any would most likely cost you your life, or worse, Caspian's.

When you opened your eyes again, you stared at the cab you were about to run to, only a few meters away. Despite your fear, your expression on your face was determined rather than afraid.

"Three!"

You all stood up as one man, running as fast as you could, although you remained bent over the King, making sure he was safe, four human shields covering your sovereign's body.

You counted how long you spent unprotected.

One, two, three, four, five...

The gunshots started, and a couple of bullets hit the pavement right next to your feet.

Six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven.

You crumbled against the cab, your legs shaky with the adrenaline running through your veins while the gunshots went on, digging holes in the cab behind you.

"Everyone alright?" you asked.

You were met with four nods.

"The shooter is in the big building on the other side of the lane. I'd say third or fourth floor," Reepicheep said.

"I've spotted him on the third window of the fourth floor," you agreed. "But there's no chance we can aim at him from here. Better make a run for the subway."

"And if he wants us there?"

"Then we'll shoot whoever is inside. Keep your weapons at the ready."

Your gun was already in your hand, the safety long gone and your forefinger ready to pull the trigger while you held the weapon so tightly your hand hurt.

You had been trained for this. You didn't doubt your abilities. You only doubted your luck, it was the one thing you couldn't control after all.

"Alright, one more time. On three," you instructed once more. "One."

Bullets hit the car you were hiding behind again, and you shielded Caspian as well as you could. When the shooting stopped, he sat straighter again, his dark eyes fully black in the weak light of the street, with no way of telling where his irises started and his pupils ended. You stared at each other for a few seconds, both of you a little out of breath.

He rested his hand on your forearm, his touch delicate.

"Are you hurt, Miss Y/L/N?" Caspian asked in a concerned whisper.

But you shook your head.

"We need to move," was your answer, and the King merely nodded in response. He knew you were right. You needed to hurry.

"Two," you resumed your countdown, and your colleagues and you took back your protective positions around the King.

One final sprint and you would be in the clear, for now, at least.

"Three!"

The shots resumed the second you started towards the subway.

You counted the seconds again while bullets ricocheted against the pavements and the cars surrounding you. Glasses shattered on your right, the high-pitched noise added to the detonations.

One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine...

You would have needed a couple more seconds, that was all. Just two more seconds, maybe three, and you would have reached the entrance and been able to take cover.

But you collapsed before that, just as the number nine rang in your head.

Caspian felt it. He felt that your hand slipped from his back, and your presence across his back and by his side disappeared too. He turned to check on you, and the scene he found was the one he dreaded most.

You hit the ground just as he turned to you.

His eyes grew round, and he made a movement towards you, but he was dragged away by the rest of his bodyguards.

"No..." he breathed, but it might just had been a shout for the pain that tore the word apart. It was simply too broken to come out louder.

Then he was pushed against a wall, and you were out of sight.

You were shot. You were hurt and it was all because of him. He had to go back and carry you to safety. He had to protect you just like you had protected him so many times before, just like you protected him just now.

"Unhand me," he ordered between grinding teeth. "All of you, unhand me."

If Marco and Denise obeyed, Reep stared back at his king with a stubborn look on his face that Caspian hated.

"Your Majesty, you can't..."

"That's an order."

"I'm afraid I can't obey this order, Your Majesty. You can't go out there for her."

The two men stared at each other, reading each other's anger and resolve in their eyes. Caspian's fear and panicked state was slowly turning into anger at the idea that he couldn't help you. And under other circumstances, he would have understood. He was the King. You had sacrificed yourself for him, and you risking your life would be useless if he walked back out there and got shot too.

But it was you. It was you, and he didn't care about anything else at that moment. Not about his country, or his duties, and certainly not his safety. You were lying on the cold pavement, just a few meters away from him, at best wounded and at worst dead. He would not leave you behind. He had things to confess, after all.

And on top of his fear for you and his panic rising through his body at the thought of losing you were added his regrets. So many of those, so many moments he had stopped himself from talking to you, from admitting how he truly felt, from holding you close, from kissing you.

It seemed simpler then, it seemed wiser too. He figured he had all the time in the world to tell you the truth. And now he was angry at himself, more than at Reepicheep, for letting so many of these moments slip through his fingers over the past years. And maybe he had let you down just as much as he had let himself by staying silent when he was so certain that he loved you. If he had let you down in the past, he was determined to never do so again, and certainly not now.

"Unhand me. Now."

"Your Majesty, if you get hurt, her sacrifice will have been in vain."

"I can't leave her there..."

"Your Majesty..."

"Get out of my way."

Reep heaved a sigh, knowing his King too well to keep on protesting. Instead, he did as ordered.

"I'll go with you then," Reep decided, and Caspian didn't complain.

Before he could add another word, Caspian was running to you, closely followed by his bodyguard.

He grabbed you by the shoulders and started to drag you towards shelter. With Reepicheep's help, he carried you to safety in just a few seconds, but he remained unprotected long enough for him to feel the stinging burn of a cut across his right arm. He merely winced though, and didn't let out a sound before all three of you were protected again.

Meanwhile, Denise and Marco had wandered further into the deserted subway and found no threat.

"Your Majesty... your arm..." Denise whispered, her eyes wide in concern.

"It's merely a scratch," Caspian brushed her remark away.

She looked for something to wrap around his wound to slow down the bleeding, but the King wasn't paying attention to her at all anymore.

"Miss Y/L/N? Can you hear me?"

His call was met by nothing but silence. Your eyes were closed, and a cut crossed your cheekbone, probably caused by your fall. He checked your pulse, but you were still breathing although your heartbeat was a little slow.

Caspian looked for your wound, but couldn't see any blood.

"Help me turn her to her side, she must have been hit on her back," he ordered, and Reep and Marco helped him to manoeuvre you so he could take a look at your back.

Sirenes echoed through the street then. The police and ambulances were arriving. But for now, you were still on your own.

After a careful examination, Caspian spotted a hole in the fabric of your suit, right under your right shoulder, and when he brushed his fingers across it, they were slightly covered with blood. He took his phone out of your pocket to shed some light on the spot, and he realised that your bulletproof vest had slowed the bullet enough for it to be still visible as it got buried in your skin and the first layers of muscles on the edge of your shoulder blade.

He heaved a relieved sigh. He was no doctor, but he reckoned that the wound in itself was not too severe. The strength of the impact must have been the worst part, he reckoned.

He gently put you on your back again, and resumed his efforts to wake you up.

"Y/N! Y/N please, open your eyes."

He ran his hand across your forehead and your cheek before cupping your face, his fingertips lost in your hair.

"Y/N... please... please, you need to wake up now. Y/N..."

Finally, your eyelids fluttered and opened, barely revealing the shade of your irises that Caspian dreamt about. And he reckoned he had never been happier to see your eyes.

"Ouch..." you let out with a wince.

He gave you a bright grin, tears shining in his eyes.

"Y/N... how are you feeling?"

"Been better," you admitted. "Where are we?"

"We've reached the subway. The police is here. Help is on its way."

"Have you... checked the perimeter?" You asked Reep.

"We're safe for now," Marco nodded.

"Happy to see that you are still the same," Caspian chuckled, his voice hoarse and a little weak.

"Are you hurt?" You asked, noticing the blood on his sleeve.

"It's just a scratch. I'm fine. We're all fine."

You made a movement to sit up, bit Caspian gently pushed you back down.

"No, lay down. Help is on its way. You need to rest."

"Your arm..."

"I'm alright, it barely brushed me. Stay down. You'll be fine."

He reached for your hand, for once not caring about the people around the two of you who witnessed the scene. It was so rare that he would let himself slip so far as to touch you in any way, and you felt overwhelmed by the chaste but loving hold.

But you were exhausted, and struggled to keep your eyes open by now.

You gathered your strengths to look at him, staring at his dishevelled hair falling before his dark eyes, and the beard covering his cheek, a little bit of sweat pearling across his forehead...

God, you loved him so much, it was almost embarrassing...

"Y/N, I need you to stay awake, okay?" Caspian's voice was low and deep and it sounded fragile now, begging. It was such a strange tone to hear coming from your King, you reckoned that you had never heard him beg for anything before.

"I'm so tired," you replied, although you were blinking in an attempt to open your eyes for good.

"I know."

"It's hard to breathe."

"You were shot. The vest stopped the bullet, but I reckon that the force of the impact was enough to knock you down. You could be more severely wounded than what we can assess now. So don't move, and stay awake while we wait for help."

"Take care of your arm first."

He exhaled loudly, a tender smile settling on his lips while his eyes filled with tears again.

Outside, the sirens rang closer again, and some gunshots could be heard from the distance. It was loud and chaotic and scary. Caspian didn't look away from your eyes though.

"You really have to always be this stubborn, don't you?" he asked, his voice too gentle for his remark, and as you thought about an adjective to describe his tone, there was no word that you could think of that suited more than 'loving'. And this tone of his made your heart melt.

Police officers finally reached your shelter a few minutes later, along with a team of paramedics. Reep guided them to you, and explained the situation, while you tightened your hold on Caspian's hand.

"As we've almost died, and it's a very short moment that'll soon end..." you whispered, so only Caspian would hear. "I think I can admit that... I really wish you could stay with me now."

But you were surprised when Caspian shook his head, giving you the most tender smile you had seen adorning his lips.

"I'm not leaving your side this time. As you said, we've almost died. Call it cliché, but it changes things."

You wanted to ask him what he meant, but the paramedics finally reached you, and you had to give them your attention instead.

"Take care of the King first," you ordered them, making Caspian chuckle.

You really would never change...

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

 You hated hospitals. They were white and cold and filled with pain. The blankets and sheets were scratchy and the mattress uncomfortable. And there was no need to get you started on the food.

You were in one of these hospital beds now though, and had no choice about the matter. If the bullet had not made too much damage in itself, the impact had hit you with enough strength to break one of your ribs. You would stay in the hospital for a couple of days, and after being patched up, you had fallen asleep alone in your room.

Only, you weren't alone anymore when you opened your eyes again.

Caspian was asleep, sitting on a tiny chair with dark circles under his eyes that showed that he had barely gotten any sleep during the night. You guessed that he had passed out because of exhaustion rather than peacefully resting. His neck was twisted to a strange angle, and you could foresee the wince he would make as he would wake up with painful muscle.

You guessed that moments of peril did change things after all.

You could already think of the headlines if the fact that the King had spent the night in the hospital to stay with his bodyguard was to come out. Caspian didn't seem to care though, clearly, as he was curled in his uncomfortable chair by your side.

His arm was pressed against his chest in a tight bandage. He looked properly exhausted, yet, your selfish side was happy he was in this chair instead of the comfort of a bed. He was by your side, after all, how could you not enjoy the sight?

The sun was rising outside, still pale and golden above the skyscrapers while the city that never sleeps came a little bit more to life. You studied the way a few stranded photons got caught on Caspian's eyelashes and in his long dark hair. You measured the distance between your hand and his. Maybe a metre, at most, you would say.

You kept on staring at him for a while. A couple of minutes or an hour, it was hard to tell, you reckoned that you could have spent your whole life just looking at him. Despite the rush and danger of the previous night, and where you were now, there was something unbelievably soothing about watching Caspian sleep by your side.

When he finally stirred, blinking his eyes open and rubbing the sleep away from them, his gaze instantly settled upon your frame. He offered you a warm smile once he noticed that you were awake.

"Good morning, Miss Y/L/N," he greeted you, his voice hoarse in the young morning as he rubbed his painful neck.

"Good morning, Your Majesty," you answered with the same smile.

He scooted his chair closer to your bed and leaned towards you.

"How are you feeling?"

"Numb. I guess they must have given me painkillers."

"You got some morphine during the night."

"Explains a lot."

He chuckled, nodding.

"I guess it must."

"How is your arm?"

"It was a mere scratch, but I am royalty, so... I reckon the doctors are being zealous."

"How did you get hurt? Is it because I fell?"

He stared right into your eyes to answer, knowing you wouldn't like what he was about to say, but he didn't really care.

"No, I went back for you. I carried you back to the subway, with a little help of your colleagues, of course."

"You did what?!" you exclaimed, trying to sit up but falling back into the bed as soon as a jolt of pain crossed your back and chest.

Caspian was on his feet in the blink of an eye, gently pressing his palm against your shoulder.

"You have to lie down. You have a broken rib. Apparently, it's going to hurt like hell."

"That... might be a good idea... Don't think it's making me forget what you've just said though. What on Earth were you thinking?!"

"Is that really how you're supposed to talk to your King?" he asked, quirking a playful eyebrow.

"When you act so recklessly? Yes."

"So what was I supposed to do? Leave you there, alone on the pavement?"

"Yes!"

"That will never happen."

"Your Majesty..."

But just as you were about to protest, he reached for your hand, and made you fall quiet, the words stuck in your throat as his soft skin met yours. Your heart sped up, and you watched him setting his eyes upon your two hands. He slowly sat on the edge of your bed while you struggled to find back your voice.

"This has been going on for too long, don't you think?" he asked in a whisper. "Such a silly game we've been playing..."

"This?"

"Well, I could be wrong, and then I apologize for what I'm about to say. But I thought... I think you might feel like this too."

"Your Majesty..."

His lips curled into a sad smile.

"Do you think you could call me a different name one day?"

You struggled to swallow.

"I'm not supposed to."

"As if I've ever cared about your origins and mine..."

"People do care though."

"Yes... I guess they do."

"So... you can stay for a little longer, and then the moment will end as you pass this door, and we'll be back to a King and his head of security."

He looked up to stare at your eyes once more, trapping your soul in them, it would seem.

"Is that what you want? After all these years? Don't you think we have lost enough time already, worrying about what people might say about us?"

"Nothing's changed. You're still the king, and I'm still your protector."

"Things have changed though."

"Really?"

"I almost lost you. I saw you lying there on this pavement, thinking that you might be dead. I've always pushed back this moment because I thought we would have time, that 'later' would come, eventually. But the reminder that our time on this Earth is a precious thing was only too violent for me to ignore last night. We've lost years already, I don't want to lose more time."

"But..."

"Just... hear me out. Let me tell you..."

"We shouldn't."

"When you were shot yesterday... I thought... I thought back on these moments when I almost didn't stop myself. When I almost told you how I feel, and when I almost kissed you and... and there is nothing in my life that I regret more than to have let all these precious instants pass."

He heaved a sigh, shaking his head.

"I'm... I know it won't be easy. But I'm tired of not being honest."

"Your Majesty..."

"No need to bring that distance between us again now."

"But..."

"But I love you."

You fell silent. You thought that he did love you. You hoped so. You wished that he would. But hearing the three words pass his lips was something else entirely. It felt... overwhelming.

"I've loved you for a while," he went on, his cheeks turning crimson, and his gaze dropping back to your hands, unable to hold your stare. "I... there will never be anyone else."

"You should marry a princess or... someone... like that..."

He chuckled again.

"Even you don't know what that means. We're in the 21st century, don't you think that I could have a choice to marry who I love. As long as the woman my heart has chosen loves me too, of course..."

His voice trailed off, waiting for reassurance, for your answer. But you remained silent.

"I want to do this," Caspian went on, staring at you once more while he gently stroked your knuckles with this thumb. "I'm ready to face it. Life is too short, Y/N. Yesterday was the last strike for me. I can't... I can't go on like this. I can't go on seeing you everyday and yet not being free to kiss you, and to ask you about your day, and to talk to you for hours just because I want to know everything about you and I want to hear your voice all the time. I can't go on being jealous of every man you speak to, imagining that maybe you could fall for them instead of me. I can't go on wasting my life like this, Y/N. I've wasted years already. You know that I would do anything for our people, I would die without a second thought if it meant protecting our country. But you becoming queen would be a good thing for Narnia too, I know you would be perfect in that role. And I just... I need you. And I want you in that role, by my side. I want you as more than the head of security. Critics will be made, and journalists will invent scandals, but we can beat this. We can, and if you give us a chance, we will."

He grew silent again, waiting for your answer. Before you would speak though, you gave him a smile.

"You're jealous of the men I talk to at work?" you asked, making him laugh.

"Of all that I've said, is that everything you've chosen to acknowledge?"

"We'll pass to the declaration of your unconditional love for me in a minute," you answered, both of you chuckling despite the tears glimmering in your eyes.

"Yes, I am jealous of them," he admitted. "Yes, I love you. And I don't want to be with anyone else. So... what do you think?"

You could have answered that it would be difficult, yet, you wanted to try it too. You were ready to embrace the storm that was sure to strike you, if it meant finally being with him. You wanted to tell him that you were jealous of all these noble women he talked to at galas as well. You wanted to tell him that you regretted these moments you had let slip through your fingers just like he did.

But instead, fewer, more important words passed your lips.

"I think that I love you too, Caspian."

He seemed a little stunned, but then, the grin he gave you was the brightest you had ever seen graze his features.

He didn't find any words to answer to that statement, so instead, he did what he had stopped himself from doing dozens of times before. Instead of speaking, he leaned down to press his lips to yours.

And Gosh, you had been wishing and dreaming and waiting for this kiss for years, but was it worth the wait...

His lips tasted of bitter hospital coffee, and they were soft and warm against yours. His scent was overwhelming, making your head spin. His hold on your hand tightened, but it remained tender all the same. When he turned his head a little more, his lips brushing yours instead of connecting with them fully, you reckoned that your entire body was set on fire by the way your two breaths mingled against each other's mouth, and how warm the air leaving his lungs felt across your skin. Finally, you were there, holding on each other, kissing, breathing the same air.

For how long did you keep on kissing? A few minutes, or a few hours, you wouldn't have been able to tell. All that you were aware of was Caspian's kiss and the way it made your body tremble, and how he was out of breath as well. Your fingers were lost in his soft, dishevelled locks like they were made to belong there.

When you finally broke apart, both of you out of breath, he rested his forehead against yours.

"So... what happens now?" you asked after a long silence.

"Now... I'm catching my breath, and then I think I might kiss you again."

You laughed, shaking your head.

"No, I meant... about... everything else."

But it was his turn to shake his head.

"It can wait until tomorrow. Or later, at least. Now... let's just enjoy this moment, okay?"

"It's nice," you agreed.

"Then let's just enjoy it while it lasts. Let's make this moment as long as we can."

"For how long do you think we can make it last?"

"Well... I reckon that a lifetime would do."

 *************************************

 Taglist : @ponycake27​ @horsesreign​ @xinyourdreamsx​ @jbluevelvet​ @notkeppeki @daynigt-dreamer-stuff @fudgeflyss​ @stuckupstucky​ @snek-shit​ @suchatinyinfinity​ @i-padfootblack-things  @buckybsarmy @heyohheyitsgabi​@jigsawlover10 @emyyjemyy @addictedtofictionalcharacters​ @staringmoony​

@madamrogers​  @geeksareunique​ @giggleberts​ @sad-orange-thoughts​ @aylinnmaslow​  @benbarnes-world @ladyblablabla​ @drinix​ @joelynnp @wearetalkingtoyou​ @mxrihollxnd @rockintensse​ @cutie-bug​ @purplocity  @rockintensse @newtstarmander​ @shinebrightlikeafanbase​

[cheri-translates]

[CN] Idle Chat with Victor

🍒 Warning: This post contains detailed spoilers for a feature which has not been released in English servers! 🍒

The CN server was recently graced with a new feature called 随便聊聊 (“Idle Chat”), where you can select a mood and talk to the love interests about work, life, and studies :>

Idle Chat with: Gavin / Kiro / Lucien / Shaw

[ WORK - Topic 1: Overtime ]

1. Mood: Happy

MC: Overtime is finally over!! I’m going home to lie down~ I miss my bed and pillow so much

Victor: You’re working overtime again?

Victor: The timing for tomorrow's report will be changed to the afternoon

Victor: You can get more sleep in the morning.

-

2. Mood: Upset

MC: I’m completely not in the mood to work today, and think I’ll have to work overtime again. I wonder if I’ll be able to finish by 10pm... I’m a little tired, and really miss my bed.

Victor: Instead of letting your mind wander, why not complete the work on hand quickly. 

Victor: You were in the mood to play on your phone and send messages in the afternoon though.

-

3. Mood: Angry

MC: I have to work overtime today! I feel as though I’m basically living in the office recently! I wonder when such days will come to an end...

Victor: Do you want me to award you with a “Most Hardworking Employee” certificate?

Victor: There’s no need for unnecessary overtime

Victor: Tonight, go home and have a good rest.

-

[ WORK - Topic 2: Income ]

1. Mood: Happy

MC: It’s the happy day of payday! Even though I have to pay for various expenses, I’ll live in the moment. So tonight, I’ve decided to have a big feast in Souvenir

Victor: Souvenir isn’t open tonight.

Victor: But if you want to come, I can make an exception.

-

2. Mood: Upset

MC: In just the blink of an eye, payday is arriving. Come to think of it, the term “income” doesn’t seem to be related to you at all. Doesn’t this mean you’re short of one form of happiness?

Victor: Your definition of “happiness” is overly simplistic. 

Victor: I don’t need to consider such things.

Victor: Also, when do you intend to submit the financial statements from the previous quarter?

-

3. Mood: Angry

MC: Why is there never enough income? I didn’t do much this month, but ended up spending so much. I’m troubled.

Victor: Are you hinting that I should increase your pay?

Victor: It isn’t an impossibility.

Victor: As long as you give me a convincing reason.

-

[ WORK - Topic 3: Program Progress ]

1. Mood: Happy

MC: That collaboration I mentioned the last time was successful! Phew - it’s really been full of twists and turns, and I almost thought it’d fail. It’s a good thing we didn’t give up!

Victor: Since it’s successful, bring the proposal over along with your report next week.

Victor: I’ve asked Goldman to schedule a meeting.

Victor: Also, you did well this time.

-

2. Mood: Upset

MC: I really have no idea what to do for the new program. I’ve thought of a few perspectives, but everyone thinks they aren’t that great. It feels like all my inspiration has dried up...

Victor: In that case, work on something else to divert your train of thought.

Victor: There are many methods, and you can pick one yourself.

Victor: If you can’t think of anything, come to Souvenir after work.

-

3. Mood: Angry

MC: The new proposal hasn’t been going smoothly... I was full of vigour at first, but I feel slightly discouraged now. Sigh, I’m starting to doubt life.

Victor: Didn’t you boast shamelessly before that you’d definitely do it?

Victor: Why don’t you take out that vigour you showed me?

Victor: I can spare some time later to help you take a look.

-

[ WORK - Topic 4: Program Results ]

1. Mood: Happy

MC: I didn’t expect the program to be approved so smoothly. I even thought it’d get stuck for a long time like the previous case. Looks like praying to you before the meeting was effective!

Victor: Dummy. Praying to me isn’t effective.

Victor: The proposal you did this time wasn’t bad

Victor: Continue making persistent efforts.

-

2. Mood: Upset

MC: The program on hand is stuck mid-way again. Recently, it feels as though everything isn’t going smoothly. Do you have time to take a look at my proposal?

Victor: Come to my house this weekend

Victor: I can spare two hours.

Victor: If you’re asking for my guidance, have you thought about how to pay the tutoring fee?

-

3. Mood: Angry

MC: The collaborative program with Loveland TV didn’t get approved again!! I’ve already made five amendments!! Life is really difficult!

Victor: While burying your head in amendments, did you find the reason why it wasn’t approved?

Victor: If you didn’t, let Goldman help.

Victor: As for the rest, I believe you can handle them.

🌹

[ LIFE - Topic 1: Losing Weight ]

1. Mood: Happy

MC: When I measured myself today, I realised that I’ve actually lost weight! Truly, “shut your mouth, move your legs”. 

Victor: Since you have the determination to persevere

Victor: Looks like the pudding you wanted as a reward can be called off.

[Note] 管住嘴迈开腿 (“Shut your mouth, move your legs”) is a motto for losing weight in Chinese.

-

2. Mood: Upset

MC: It’s strange... Why isn’t there the slightest change in my weight even after exercising persistently for several days?! This has greatly swayed my determination to continue exercising.

Victor: Is this another one of your reasons to be lazy?

Victor: Continue with your morning run tomorrow.

-

3. Mood: Angry

MC: During the company’s physical examination, I received a bit of a blow. I actually put on so much weight!! From tomorrow onwards, I’m going to lose weight!

Victor: You do have to control yourself and have fewer suppers and snacks.

Victor: Instead of tormenting yourself alone

Victor: From tomorrow onwards, you’ll join me in my morning run.

-

[ LIFE - Topic 2: Meals ]

1. Mood: Happy

MC: I followed a recipe and whipped up coffee chicken perfectly! Even though it looks slightly flawed, the taste deserves 80 marks. Want to give it a try?

Victor: I’m suspicious of what you call “perfect”.

Victor: I’m not at home now. Come to LFG to look for me.

Victor: I hope your skills won’t disappoint me.

-

2. Mood: Upset

MC: How can I control the thickness of congee? I accidentally poured too much water, and now it has become a pot of rice soup. I even wanted to show you once I succeeded...

Victor: Looks like everything related to “appropriateness” is difficult for you to comprehend.

Victor: What congee are you trying to cook?

Victor: I’ll get someone to prepare the ingredients. Come over and I’ll teach you personally.

-

3. Mood: Angry

MC: I tried following the recipe you gave me, but failed... I’m not asking for it to be delicious and perfect, but it ended up looking like dark cuisine. I followed every single thing you wrote though!

Victor: This has nothing to do with the recipe.

Victor: As long as you are half as serious about cooking as you are eating it

Victor: It wouldn’t become like this.

-

[ LIFE - Topic 3: Reading ]

1. Mood: Happy

MC: I’ve finally finished reading that book you recommended. It’s very interesting!

Victor: What else did you plan to understand?

Victor: I don’t often read such books.

Victor: But after reading it, I realised that there are some merits.

-

2. Mood: Upset

MC: Today, I purchased a few books on management but didn’t have time to read them. Come to think of it, I haven’t finished reading the books I bought the last time either. But the internet says that buying books but not reading them is also a form of charity~

Victor: So the reason why you buy books is for “charity” reasons?

Victor: Next time, don’t just buy any book you see

Victor: If you don’t know what to buy, ask me.

-

3. Mood: Angry

MC: I just finished reading a very long book... In the end, everyone died aside from the protagonist! Why is there such a tragic ending!

Victor: So do you want to change the ending? 

Victor: Have a night’s rest, and you’ll forget about it tomorrow.

Victor: Don’t complain about dark eye circles the next time.

-

[ LIFE - Topic 4: Games ]

1. Mood: Happy

MC: I’m at home since it’s a vacation today, and successfully finished all stages of a game! I said that I have a natural talent when it comes to games, didn’t I? The next time we play together, I won’t be in a flurry like the last time. 

Victor: When did I agree to play games with you again?

Victor: If the new program you proposed can rank first in the ratings

Victor: I wouldn’t mind seeing the results of your practice.

-

2. Mood: Upset

MC: I’ve entered a game wasteland. Even though I usually don’t spend much time playing games... But when I want to play, there’s nothing worth playing, and I end up feeling very bored.

Victor: Apart from playing games, don’t you have other things to do?

Victor: If you really feel bored

Victor: There’s a dinner party tonight. You can come with me.

-

3. Mood: Angry

MC: When I was discussing a collaborative project today, I tried playing two rounds of Texas hold ’em. It ended in a tragic defeat... These games which require skill and thinking are not suitable for me.

Victor: Actually, it’s rules are very simple.

Victor: Playing such games requires sufficient patience and ambition.

Victor: I’ll teach you next time.

🌹

[ SCHOOL - Topic 1: Progress ]

1. Mood: Happy

MC: I’ve read through all the materials beforehand. I initially thought these were hieroglyphics, but now I realise they aren’t that difficult~

Victor: Since you could persevere, it looks like it wasn’t just a flash in the pan.

Victor: If you pass the exam, I’ll consider giving you a reward.

-

2. Mood: Upset

MC: It has been two hours since I started studying, and my progress is 10%. Ahhh I have to make full use of my time!! Why does time disappear the moment my mind wanders...

Victor: If you want to make full use of your time, you should be keeping your phone.

Victor: Next time, lock your phone away before you start studying

Victor: It can prevent 80% of your loss of focus.

-

3. Mood: Angry

MC: I understand every word, but I can’t comprehend the sentence. I doubt I can finish learning all the materials before the examination. It’s really difficult!

Victor: You chose the hardest difficulty for yourself, so it’s too late to give up.

Victor: But the fact that you could persevere till now

Victor: It already makes one see you in a different light.

-

[ SCHOOL - Topic 2: Homework ]

1. Mood: Happy

MC: I just did two sets of examination questions, and the options I picked were all correct! I’m truly an ordinary small genius~ My confidence has shot up!

Victor: Before the final results, blind confidence isn’t much help.

Victor: But I’m looking forward to the final examination script you submit.

-

2. Mood: Upset

MC: It just dawned on me... why do I still have homework?! I thought the word “homework” was long gone. I didn’t expect that I wouldn’t be able to escape from its shadow.

Victor: If your procrastination didn't show up, all these could have been completed very quickly.

Victor: Aside from homework, don’t forget the report for this quarter.

Victor: I don’t accept unexplained delays.

-

3. Mood: Angry

MC: I plan to apply for leave from the meeting tomorrow afternoon. Tonight, I’m going to spend the entire night completing the heap of homework... I don’t believe I can’t finish them!!

Victor: With such vigor, why didn’t you complete some earlier?

Victor: Your goal is simply to pass the exam, so you can do some selection

Victor: There’s no need to foolishly set unnecessary requirements for yourself.

-

[ SCHOOL - Topic 3: Pre-exam Revision ]

1. Mood: Happy

MC: I’m done with revision, and have a feeling that I’ll pass successfully this time! If I manage to pass, I’ll invite you out to celebrate. I’ve already thought of the location!

Victor: I accompanied you in studying for such a long time. If you can’t pass, I’ll be skeptical of your brain.

Victor: Right now, the most important thing is to conserve your strength and energy. 

Victor: Switch off your phone, and go to sleep.

-

2. Mood: Upset

MC: Although I’m all prepared, my heart still feels very nervous... If I had known earlier, I would have prayed for a “Pass Every Exam” sign!!

Victor: Since you’re all prepared, why are you still nervous?

Victor: Forget it, I shouldn’t have had expectations for your psychological state...

Victor: Give me a call before you sleep.

-

3. Mood: Angry

MC: Why do people need to go through exams... Why do people need to do revision... Why do people need to live...

Victor: Weren’t you brimming with confidence when you signed up?

Victor: There’s still time

Victor: I can accompany you in looking through the questions one more time.

-

[ SCHOOL - Topic 4: Post-exam celebration ]

1. Mood: Happy

MC: The exam is over! I plan to celebrate with a feast! I feel as though the gigantic stone in my heart has finally been lifted. I’m back to being a brave heroine~

Victor: The results aren’t out and you’re already so confident?

Victor: Forget it, I won’t deal any blows

Victor: What do you want to eat? Let me know once you’ve decided.

-

2. Mood: Upset

MC: I wonder when the examination results would be released... Not being able to see the marks always makes my heart feel uneasy. Although I said I was going to celebrate, I don’t have much of a mood now.

Victor: Your mentality has room for improvement.

Victor: No matter how much you think about it, you can’t change the marks.

Victor: Come to Souvenir tonight - treat it as a celebration for completing your exam.

-

3. Mood: Angry

MC: The results of today’s exam are out! I obtained 30 marks more than the passing mark! I originally wanted to celebrate, but I heard a grievous piece of news - It turns out that the written examination only constitutes 60% of the marks! The rest are constituted by attendance!

Victor: This score is much higher than your previous test

Victor: As for the remaining marks, I recall that your attendance should be sufficient

Victor: There’s no need to worry.

[jj-lynn21]

Clowning around

Warnings: humor, creepiness, fear, smut, angst, possible multiple personality disorder, A Halloween fanfic for all my Pennylovers out there. The Clownfuckers that miss their Bob Gray. Girls missing their Daddywise. This might not be a straight up Pennywise story, but you know how Bill gets when he puts on that persona. You know what you are in for.

Tags: @a-mess-of-fandoms @hausofobsession @amandalynngraves @josielikesskarsgards @dragsraksllib @grandpa-sweaters​ @bskarsgardlove92​ @super-pink-a-palouza​ @draggolblackthorn​ @loomiz​ @theskarsgardcult​ @sunshineandskarsgards​ 

Thank you for the moodboard @flowers-in-your-hayr​

“Bill you were the scariest clown I ever saw in a movie. Thank you for speaking to me via skype today.” The reporter said wrapping up the sixth interview in row for your boyfriend. All of them still praising his work as the clown. Bill loved people didn’t hate it, but he would rather be praised for any of his current roles over Pennywise.

“Thank you.” He smiled hoping no one mistook the smile for a remnant of the clown.

It wasn’t that he did not love the character and appreciate all the love from the fans. Hell, he was ready to jump right back into the skin of Bob Gray if Steven King wrote a prequel and Andy Muschietti was on board to direct again. But he did not want to chase a seventy-year-old adult Losers Club at sixty-years-olds. At lease at this point in his career.  

You did not blame him either. You were so proud of all the projects Bill did over the last year or two that were starting to be released. He was such a workaholic because he loved the work, but he still made time for you. He would often fly you wherever he was working. He did not work most weekends but sometimes it made more sense staying in a hotel or apartment near filming instead of coming home.  

“Hey, sweetheart.” His voice was horse from talking for so many hours. “Thanks for the tea and Vaniljhjärta. I think I am finally done.” He pulled you onto his lap. 

You learned to make his favorite pastry, Vaniljhjärta, from a Swedish cookbook that you had to translate as you learned the recipe. It was time consuming but worth it the way Bill light up getting a little taste of home.  

“You’re welcome.” You kissed his cheek softly. “No need to talk for a while. I put honey in the tea to sooth your throat and Jokk Tranbär Apple & Kanel on top just the way you like it. “

He sipped the tea. Then nodded his approval. After taking a bite of the heart shaped pastry he licked his lips and devoured in in a few more bites. Then his cellphone rang ruining the delicious quiet moment between you. When you started to get up, he shook his head no. You were happy to stay in place.

“Hey, how’s life, man.” Landon Liboiron called Bill at least once a month. They talked about acting, future goals and what was going on in their lives in general. He was the only guy Bill felt like he could talk to freely outside his family. “I don’t usually ask you for shit, but I’m involved in this project for charity I would love you to help with. If you don’t want to that’s fine. All the proceeds will go to a local children’s hospital. I think a few of those kids will be there.”

“My schedule is packed during the week, Landon.” Bill was hesitant to get involved with yet another project when he was working on Clark, which he was also producing. “You know I would do just about anything to help you out.”

“Hi, Landon.” You interceded.  

“What’s up buttercup?” He laughed.

You giggled.

“It would be one Saturday October 1.” Landon added about the event.

“All right.” Bill thought about it. “I might be able to make one night. What do you need me to do, sign autographs or something?”

“Nothing that boring.” Landon assured. “I am one of the sponsors of a haunted carnival and I would like Pennywise to attend if that is something he would want? Terrorize some guests throughout the area and the Fun House. But no hurting anyone. Is that understood?”

A strange look came over Bill’s face. One you had seen before but not for an awfully long time. He stood. You slid off his lap right to the floor landing on your bum. That was not like your Bill at all. Then you heard it, IT’s voice.  

“I could play your game.” Pennywise cooed. “I love chase games. Carnival with children. And lots pop pop popcorn.” He giggled. “Don’t forget the red balloons.”

“Yes, I can get all of that for you.” Landon was nervous about what he just brought up in his friend. If he had opened some weird Pandora's Box. “I will email the specifics and see you Saturday.”

“Yes, yes. Saturday will be a fun day to play.” Pennywise snickered like a child.  

Landon hung-up first a little creeped out at the exchange. Pennywise looked over at you still on the floor looking at him in awe.  

“Shall we start playing now...” His voice went from high pitch to deep and gravely. “my little one.”

You swallowed hard as he stalked towards you. His mannerisms changing as he came closer. The Clown was out to play, and you did not know how or when you would get your sweet man back.

He knelt as you crab crawled away from him. He was laughing at your fear. Whether you were pretending for the sake of the game or feared this side of your man only you knew. But your heart was beating fast as his smiling Pennywise face got with within an inch of yours.

“Boo.” He cackled demonically. “You better run, little one.”

You got up quickly and darted one way then the other trying to find a place to hide. But you knew you could never truly hide from him. He was quick once he got up and began to hunt you.  

“I’ve missed you.” He came around the corner. “I’ve craved you.”  

You could see him but hoped he did not see you.  

“I’m going to find you.”  

You closed your eyes tightly and put your hand over your mouth. For some reason this seemed the best strategy. If you could not see him. If he could not hear you breathing maybe...”

“I’m going to eat you up.” Pennywise growled.

You could feel his breath on your face. You let go of your mouth. Then opened your eyes. He was drooling. His eyes floating in their sockets. You let out a blood curdling scream as he pulled you out of the hiding place and tossed you over his shoulder.

“Get ready to float.” Pennywise mused as he carried you into his layer.  

He tossed you onto the bed. Tearing at your cloths Pennywise shredded them quickly. He dipped his head between your thighs to eat you out with delight. He made little high-pitched noises as he did so. And you were wet, all turned on by the chase. “Daddywise, please.” you moaned as he teased your pussy.  

He was sucking at your clit until your writhed. Then darted his tongue over your slit to lick up all your juices. He worked you to the edge multiple times as you begged him to let you float in the glorious high of ecstasy you needed.

“You are such a fucking bastard, Daddywise.” Your core ached for release. “You know I need it.”  You whined.  

He looked up at you tilting his head from left to right. Your juices glistening on his lips. He laughed. “Time to float.”

Pennywise dove back down working you up again. This time he made you float so high you never wanted to come down from your blissful orgasm. You laid there panting after as he disappeared into the bathroom.  

Bill came back into the bed with just his boxer briefs on. He pulled you into his chest kissing your temple softly. “Nightmares are back, baby. Can we just fuck them away?”

Your thighs were still trembling but you nodded yes. He grabbed a condom from the nightstand, inched his underwear down and put it on before making love to you. He was slow and passionate hitting you exactly right. It did not take long for him to build your pleasure up once again and tip you over the edge with him coming soon after.

Bill was so gentle and loving but you knew you had not seen the last of Pennywise. He had to put the suit back on in two days. That would make the nightmare even crazier.  

Bill had a 6 a.m. call time the next morning. He was gone by the time you woke. You were sitting up to stretch when you saw it. A note right on your nightstand. You picked it up.

         It was fun playing with you last night, little one.

        You will find me at the carnival.

        Unless I find you first.  

You crumbled up the paper. Heart beating with excitement and fear. When you got out of bed you pulled the top dresser drawer open to search for the lighter Bill kept there. He tried not to smoke consistently but he kept it around. You burned the note.  

You put on one of Bill’s sweaters before making your way to the kitchen. The coffee was still warming in the pot. You made a cup and went into the living room with your cellphone in hand. You checked through your email before flipping through channels on the television. Every channel was playing some version or chapter of IT.You flipped off the TV.

It really creeped you out until you realized that it was the day before Halloween. Of course, several channels were playing one of the best horror movies of all time. You tried to laugh away the chilling sensation down your spine. But you still decided to read instead of turning the television back on.

Bill video called you around lunchtime just as you got out of the shower. A towel wrapped around your body when you answered.  

“I guess I caught you right out of the shower.” He grinned.

“I guess you did.” You giggled. “How is your Day going?”

“It’s fucked.” He griped. “It is like people think their weekend time off has already started. Everyone but me. The director is on a rampage pissing and moaning. We are going to try to shoot two more scenes before we lose the natural light of the sun. I might make it home before midnight. Sorry, I didn’t call you to complain. I just wanted to hear your sweet voice and see how beautiful you look.”

“I’m glad you called.” You tried to think of things to say without mentioning the note. That would not put him in a good head space for his current job. Plus, you rather keep Pennywise away until the carnival. “Thank you for keeping the coffee warming for me. I was snuggling in your burnt orange sweater most of the day just reading.”

“What are you reading, Älskade?” He licked his lips. He knew how much you loved when he called you the Swedish pet name for beloved.

You whimpered a little before answering. “Angry God, All Saints High Book 3.”

“How about you show me what happened in the book when I get home tonight?” He winked. “I know that is one of those steamy ones you enjoy reading and acting out.”

“I think I have a particular passage we could have fun with.” You smirked.

“Hey Bill, we are ready to start.”  

“I have to go.” He sighed. “Make sure you eat today. Love you>”

“Love..”

He had to disconnect to head back to work. You eat as he reminded you. Then went back to reading your book imagining Bill doing all the good things you were reading. You put the book down when it became too much. You took a few deep breaths. You can wait for Bill to get home.  

You clean the house. Then watch a non-clown related scary movie. You wake from dozing off during a third movie in the franchise you were watcching. It is already after midnight. You head to bed in one of Bill’s t-shirts and nothing else. You figure he had to work later than he expected.  

Bill is completely exhausted when he finally makes it home. He takes a quick shower before sliding into bed next to you his head lays on your chest. His arm flopped over your waist. You sighed deeply still mostly asleep turning to hold him.

“You all right, baby?” You mumbled.

“mm” was the only sound he made before you both fell asleep.

You both slept in Saturday Oct 31st. When you finally woke Bill was mostly quiet, other than some pleasantries. He gave you a few small kisses through the afternoon. He made a delicious brunch that would sustain you into the evening. Treats later at the carnival would be enough. The carnival neither of you mentioned.

You were cuddling on the couch when he realized the time. “I have to get it.”

“Get what.” You were not sure for a second what he meant. Then a small bit of panic rolls over your face.

“The costume is in the back of our closet.” He got up. “I can’t believe they gave me that thing. I guess in times like this I am glad. Remember how much I love you at the end of the night.”

“I know.” You try to smile. “I love you too.”

He gets the outfit and everything that makes Pennywise, Pennywise from the back of the closet. You shiver as you hear Pennywise laughter. He comes out from the bedroom with everything in a garment bag and makeup case.  

He is silent as you follow him out to the black SUV. He drives holding your hand. Both of you seem a little nervous.  

“Are you going to help with his Make-up?” Bill finally broke the silence.

“I could.” you bite your lip.

“You should.” Bill brings your hand up to kiss your pulse point.  

You turn on the radio. Both of you sing along to your favorite songs. It is bad singing, but it breaks the tension until you pull into the destination.  

It is late after when you get to the carnival. White, orange, and red lights brighten the scene as dusk slowly starts to descend. Landon is waiting as you walk up to the entrance.  

“Hey, man thanks for doing this.” He started to walk and talk. “I have a private tent set up over here for you to get ready. Do you need any help or snacks?”

“I am helping him.” You smiled uneasily.

“Great.” Landon nodded and smiled.

Bill’s bottom lip stuck out as he smiled wide or no not Bill. The performance was already starting. “Cotton candy.” He sounded giddy. And two red balloons. One for me and one for my sweet girl. Would you like a red balloon too silly boy?” He sounded a bit menacing as he asked the last question.  

“Um I should save them for the kids.” He started backing out of the tent slow. “You cool?” He looked to you.

You just nodded. When Landon left, it was just you and Bob Grey. Bob Grey stripped to get fully into his Pennywise character. You helped him put on the costume. Landon brought the balloons and cotton candy while you were doing the Pennywise make-up.

“Looks great.” Landon swallowed hard a little terrified of the clown. “The Fun House is on the other side of the carnival so just walk or stalk through and do your thing.”

Pennywise looked at him and giggled. “What do you think, little one?” He was speaking to you yet still staring at Landon. His voices deepening to a gravel tone “He’ll float too. At the end of the He’ll float too.”

Landon jetted, hoping this was still a good idea. He thought it might be the worst idea he ever had. But it was too late to call Pennywise off now. He was going to be let loose on the carnival within a few hours.  

You had perfected helping him into the outfit, wig and putting Pennywise’s clown face on him. It still took a good four hours to get him ready. His white gloved hands creeping over your body as he giggled and growled did not help. Eventually you were. Done.  

He handed you a balloon and the cotton candy. “Time to play hide and seek. Go on and try to hide from Pennywise. Go on and play.” He giggled. I will find you soon enough.”

You made a b-line for the exit. You knew exactly what he wanted from you. And there was no where you could really hide. You just hoped he did not scare the children to much.

Pennywise stalked into the night with a red balloon in hand. As the guests start to see him, they have a few different reactions. Some drop whatever snack is in their hand and back away slowing. That is when Pennywise walks towards them.  

“Is it play time friends?” He cackled at a group that looked like they were unsure how real this all was. They ran from his view. After they got far enough away, they laughed at the fear the moment built in their chests.

When he caught some girls ogle him. Their boyfriends trying to be tough as shit. He slunk closer right behind one of the boys blabbing about how Pennywise could never scare him. He would protect the girlsl.

“I won’t let some pussy actor in a costume frighten...”  

He stopped as Pennywise’s breath was felt on his neck. The others just stared behind the blowhard at the massive scary clown.  

“Um Trevor maybe you should run.” His girl Beth suggested.  

“Yes, Trevor.” Pennywise drooled on his shoulder. “Run!”

The group bolted to the other side of the carnival. Trevor quickly untucked his shirt to hide the pee spot on his chinos.  

Pennywise gets over to some children with their parents waiting to get on a merry-go-round. As the gate opens for the ride the children pull the hands of the adults to go quickly. All but one little boy with his Mother can get on this time around. The child’s eyes were huge round saucers as Pennywise smiled at him.

He knelt to the child. “You want a balloon little boy?”  

A roaming photographer was snapping pictures capturing the moment as Pennywise attempted to hand the boy a balloon. He shook his head no, burying his face in his Mother’s side.  

Pennywise whined pouting. “Please, be my friend. No one will be my friend. I’m just a silly clown trying to make you smile and you won’t even look at me.” He looked up at the boy’s Mother who seemed to be memorized by his stare. “Maybe, your Mommy will be my friend?”

The kid shakes his head an emphatic no and his Mother giggled. “There is nothing wrong with this talented man dressed as a creepy clown, Joshua. Now turn around to get your picture taken.” She took the balloon Pennywise offered.  

Pennywise was giddy with laughter. He put his arm around the shaking boy who smiled fearfully. He was not sure if he was more scared of the clown or what his Mother would do to him if he did not listen to her.  

Pennywise got up to fully standing over the child’s Mother. “Now it is time to float.” He started showing his razor-sharp teeth.  

Just then the gate opened for them to get on the ride. Joshua pulled his Mother away from what looked to him a dangerous situation. Part of her was a little frightened for a moment but mostly she about creamed her pants with excitement.  

Pennywise left the kiddie area to stalk his favorite prey. The woman that helped him break though to this world once again. He was careful in the night air. Quiet as he could be other than a jingle from time to time, he hoped you would hear and know he was coming for you.

You walked around the carnival enjoying your cotton candy. Always having an ear open for him. You watched from afar as he scared the piss out of the jock. Him and his friends ran right passed you. You snickered. You saw him scare the younger ones near the merry-go-round. Then saw the lust in one Mother’s eyes and smirked.

There were a lot of shadow places to hide as you made your way to the fun house. You did not think he could see you even though you could hear a jingle. You were constantly spinning to look around you when you heard a noise. Then it was only a few feet of open space to get to the Fun House.

Pennywise was lurking. He enjoyed the chase. He loved the way you looked so panicky. The way you looked over your shoulder straight at him. But you never saw him in the shadows. 

The carnival was winding down. People were streaming out. You thought if you timed things exactly right you could hide in the stream of people to get in the Fun House. Lights were being dimmed or shut off as you made your break from behind the tilt-a-whirl, though the crowd, and right into the beast’s mouth. You heard screaming as you looked around to find your way through.

Pennywise came bounding out of the darkness with a snarl. Everyone who were walking slowly towards the exit picked up the pace. They screamed as he walked after them. He was always just steps behind. Some were laughing by the time they got to their vehicles. Others were holding their chests from their hearts beating so fast. A few little kids were crying. All agreed it was the best haunted carnival where a werewolf or Pennywise could be around the next corner.  

You kicked through the giant beach balls easily. Then dodged some blowup clowns in a room full of them. You were trying to find your way out of a pitch-black room you had to feel your way around when Pennywise entered the Fun House.

He popped the beach balls as he made his way across the room. He punched every blow up clown. A few came back up to smack him back. You heard him scream, “You fucking fake clowns are no match for Pennywise.” He growled. “I’m going to find you, little one.”  

He was going into the darkroom as you made it out. You saw the light from him entering. He saw where you exited. The next room was a mirror maze.  

“Fuck.”

You started to try to navigate your way. Then you heard him. The laughter of your clown from all directions. It was only seconds after that you saw him everywhere just smiling wickedly at you. There was nowhere to go but hopeful making it to the exit before him.

You felt around the glass to the next section. Pennywise giggled as he disappeared from your sight. You turned to right and then to the left and found way through behind you. His cackle echoed and when you thought you were almost free you slammed into a mirror almost knocking yourself out.

When you opened your eyes, his face was right up against the glass in front of you. He looked quite silly with his cute little nose squished against the window like he was looking a glorious Christmas display on the other side, or a delicious meal being prepared just for him. As he licked his lips you realized it was the latter to him.  

Then he did the thing. That thing that made you gasp aloud as you watched IT Chapter two. He licked the glass like it was wet ass pussy and he knew that sight would make your legs weak. And this was no artificial dog tongue. This was the real thing. You knew what he could do to you with it too.  

You pressed your thighs together. A whimper escaped your lips. He laughed. “Daddywise is going to make you float, little one. If not, tonight I will find you.”

How could he be so damn hot, funny, and scary as Hell? You made it to the slide twisting down to the ground. You were not sure Pennywise could even fit. It would be a tight queeze if he could. As soon as you hobbled a few stepped you heard the howl. You whirled your head around and you screamed.

Landon laughed his ass off. “A little jumpy, are we?” He had fury werewolf hands on and some fur around his face. Teeth of a wolf completed his makeshift costume,

You smacked his chest. “Not funny. I have been hiding from Pennywise all night and he is fucking nuts.”

He chuckled again. “Well, it is time to wrap up these childish games. Everyone else left. We are going to clean up in the morning. It is time to go home.”

“You are going to float, little one.” Pennywise yelled from the top of the slide.

“Hide.” You told Landon as you darted around the ticket booth.

“I got this.” He smirked. “I think I had a similar dance like this with him before. If he can ever get out of that slide.”

Pennywise could be heard scooting and grumbling as he shimmied down the twisty slide made for children and average sized adults. He ended up falling out of the bottle head first.  

Landon growled. Pennywise sneered when he made it to his feet. “Oh, what big eyes you have puppy. But not as big as mine.”

The werewolf kept snarling as Pennywise came closer.

“And what a nose.” He giggled. “I could chomp it right off. And those teeth almost as sharp as mine.” He showed off his sharp mouth full of razors. “Where is the girl and I might let you go.”

“I will save the girl from the liked you.” The werewolf challenge throwing his body towards the clown. “Your game here is over.”

Pennywise pinned the werewolf to the ticket booth. You were right on the other side. Your eyes peeking through a window watching to make sure things were not going too far. It seemed to you they were starting to.  

“My tasty girl wants me, not a scruffy creature like...”  

The werewolf squirmed. “Enough already Bill. I get it. Pennywise vs. The werewolf, Pennywise wins.”

“Always,” Pennywise giggled. “I am Pennywise the Dancing Clown. The eater of worlds. I easily can eat you.” He opened his mouth starting to freak Landon out a bit.

“Fuck, man.”

“Pennywise.” You came out from your hiding place. “Put the werewolf down.”

Pennywise looked at you, tilting his head like he was confused. “Playtime?”

“No, playtime is over.” You were firm with him.

He dropped Landon. “Play more. We were having fun. Pennywise have more fun with little one.” He pouted like a child.

“No, it is time to sleep.” you tried to demand.

“No, no, no.” He stomped. “One more game, please?” Pennywise begged you.

Landon did not know what to make of how his large friend was acting.

“All right.” You caved to his demand. “One more game. How about you chase me back to the dressing tent. Then you are done.”

“Yes.”  

You started running. Pennywise walked his huge steps after you. Landon went to take his costume off in the tent right beside the one you and Bill were going to. Pennywise let you get to the opening of the tent before he swooped you up.

He sat in the make-chair. Your legs wrapped around him and the chair. You Both giggled as you opened the large pack of make-up remover towelettes and adhesive remover pads.  

He booped your nose. “Pennywise loves playing with you, little one.”

“I like playing with you too.” You kissed him. “But the time for games are over. We are both a little tired. Time to go to sleep, Pennywise.”

He pouts. But that changes as you take out his teeth. His face relaxes as you remove the make-up. The adhesive remover helps to take the wig off.  

“Bill, I will take this stuff to the car.” You climb off his lap and start packing it all up as he slides off the costume and hangs it neatly in the garment bag. “You should go talk to Landon before we leave.

Bill takes a deep breath. “Yeah, I hope this event made plenty of money for the children’s hospital.”

“I think it did.” you walk out with the stuff.

Bill and Landon meet up right outside the tent.  

“Was it everything you hoped it would be?” Bill asked.

“And more than I could have ever imagined.” Landon offered him a cigarette. “So, you on board for next year.”

Bill lit the cigarette when Landon held a lighter up. “Sure thing.”

“ shee-it .” They said in unison and laughed.  

[carewyncromwell]

At last, my friends, we’ve come to the end! This is the final part of my POTC AU. *cue the confetti and noisemakers*

I’ll be creating a masterpost for this AU in the next few days, so that it’s easier to start at the beginning, but before we jump right in, I want to thank those people who contributed to the POTC AU during its development by creating content for their own characters -- @hphm-brooke, @danceworshipper, @rosievixen, @smarti-at-smogwarts, @theguythatdraws, @dat-silvers-girl, @that-ravenpuff-witch, @hogwarts9, @drinkyoursoupbitch and @samshogwarts -- as well as my dear friend @cursebreakerfarrier, whose character Jules I roped into this thing at the very start before having any concept of how big this thing could get and I feel so blessed to have been able to write for. I also just want to thank you all for the overwhelming flood of support you guys have sent my way for this project -- I truly have loved every minute of it, and I hope to finish some of my other unfinished projects as well as create other fresh new material for you guys in the near future! I love you all! xoxo

One last time -- previous part is here, and full tag is here!

x~x~x~x

Even with McNully’s brilliant ploy giving her an extra smattering of glory to cement her position, Carewyn had still initially feared the crew who had been on the HMS Lion would take her to task for her insubordination of Cutler Beckett. It turned out she really needn’t have worried.

“Lord Beckett may have been chosen by the King to take charge of the Empire’s anti-piracy campaign,” said Carewyn’s old lieutenant when she questioned him about it, “but he selected you as the Admiral of the fleet. Therefore it’s only right that we, as your subordinates, follow your orders -- whether they contradict Lord Beckett’s or not.”

“Even though I’m the sort of person to threaten the King’s chosen representative with my pistol?” asked Carewyn, her eyebrows raised.

“Even if you did far worse than that,” said the lieutenant, his eyes blazing with resolve. “Your orders saved a lot of our men’s lives out there, when Beckett’s no doubt would’ve led to their deaths. It’s only right that we protect you -- that the Navy protects you -- just like you protected us.”

His boyish face broke out into a broad smile. “We won’t betray you, Admiral. None of us will.”

With the Navy’s defeat at the hands of the Pirate Lords, Carewyn charted a course straight for London. The fleet had just started the month-long journey when about three days in, the Flying Dutchman emerged out of a gigantic wave and pulled up right alongside the HMS Royal. The Navy’s sailors immediately prepared for a fight, as they knew that the Dutchman was no longer under their control, but Carewyn held the order to attack, instead allowing the ship to approach.

The sailors on board the Dutchman were unrecognizable to Carewyn’s eyes -- gone were the barnacle-encrusted, shark-or-fish-headed crew members she’d seen before: all she saw were a band of very human, though admittedly very dirty and ragged-looking pirates. Sticking out amongst them was a handsome, clean-shaved man with a stylishly-embroidered coat, a brown ponytail, and discerning brown eyes, who stood shoulder-to-shoulder with a shorter, stockier man with very long curly dark hair tied back in a ponytail that swished around behind him like an oddly sentient tail. It was these two men that came aboard, when Carewyn invoked the right to parley with the Dutchman’s Captain in her office.

Percy shut the door to Carewyn’s cabin’s door behind the two men, taking off his tricorn hat just as the pirates, Ben, and Carewyn already had now that he was indoors. It was only once Carewyn, Percy, Ben, Jacob, and Ashe were alone that the two Navy officers and ex-Navy veteran dropped their professional masks and the two pirates dropped their intimidating glares, and Jacob and Carewyn ran forward, throwing their arms around each other and squeezing tight.

“Jacob!” Carewyn breathed against his shoulder as she clung to her brother.

Jacob cradled his younger sister close, absently trailing his hand through her hair in repetitive strokes. “Oh Wyn -- my brave Wyn...”

Carewyn pulled away just enough to look at Jacob. Her eyes trailed over his face, down to the long scar on his chest exposed by his slightly open shirt, and over his curly ponytail, which was currently squiggling like a ribbon in mid-air behind him.

Jacob smiled a bit sheepishly.

“Seems all sailors on the Flying Dutchman become a bit more ‘sea-like’ upon tying themselves to the ship. Rakepick’s hair kind of went all ‘jellyfish’ when she was captain -- probably because of her talent for shocking betrayals,” he added with a rather nasty smile. “Ashe thinks that my hair’s been evoking an eel. Fortunately I reckon I won’t start sprouting gills or turning green unless I actively shed my humanity and ignore my role as ferryman like Jones did...”

The severe look on Carewyn’s face made the smile slowly slide off of Jacob’s face.

“Jacob...when Jones was captain of the Dutchman, he wasn’t allowed to visit dry land but once every ten years,” said Carewyn, her voice betraying the anxiety she felt despite her best effort.

Jacob’s eyes grew a little more solemn. “...I know.”

Seeing the pain in his sister’s eyes, he immediately swooped in and trailed a hand through the hair near the front of her face.

“Wyn, I already planned for this. The whole reason I left you on Isle de Muerta is that I wanted to get Jones’s heart and force him, any way I had to, to release you from the contract.” He swallowed. “...I knew I’d have to be prepared to follow through, if I was going to threaten Jones’s life -- that I’d have to be prepared to become captain of the Dutchman myself, if it came to it.”

Carewyn looked if possible even more upset. “...You mean you planned this? You were really going to kill Jones, to stop him from impressing me into service?”

“I was not going to condemn you, Wyn,” Jacob said in a very forceful, pained voice. “I couldn’t let you suffer because of my mistake -- ”

“Two wrongs do not make a right, Jacob,” Carewyn shot back very harshly. “Jones may have been heartless, but he was still a person!”

“If you disregard the tentacles and claw, anyway,” Ashe said rather coolly. When Carewyn whirled on him with a very reproachful look, he spoke again before she did, “Carewyn, your brother had his fair share of conflict about the whole thing. He hated the thought of killing Jones and joining the crew of the Dutchman. He hated the thought of not being free to go where he wanted, to lose so much time with you...with me.”

Ashe’s eyes were very stony, but they still flickered over to Jacob, narrowing slightly with something oddly resigned. Carewyn’s gaze softened significantly.

“...I hated it for him too,” the merman said lowly. “I still do. But I hate the thought of Jack having died there on that deck more. I hate the thought that Rakepick would’ve actually managed to kill him this time, and there would’ve been nothing I could’ve done to stop it. Your friend the Pirate King couldn’t save your brother’s life, but she did prevent him from dying...all because she, like me, couldn’t bear the thought of you two never seeing each other again.”

His lips actually turned up in something of a weak, wry smile upon Carewyn.

“I understand your frustration -- your brother can be amazingly thick -- ”

“Oi!” said Jacob, a bit offended, but Ashe ignored him.

“ -- but I’ve been very fortunate to know the same intense, selfless love from Jack that he feels for you. I’m not going to act like it’ll be easy -- I mean, even if I’d be able to stay on-board on the Dutchman with Jack while he’s here in the land of the living...whenever he goes to the next world as ferryman, I won’t be able to follow. But I can always meet up with him at sea, in my regular form -- I can always catch up, given the proper time...just like I did while Jack was serving under Howell Davis. Until then, I’ll just find someplace to wait.”

Carewyn considered Ashe for a long moment, her blue eyes rippling with a rather indiscernible expression. Then, looking a bit more determined, she strode right up to Ashe and took hold of his shoulders.

“You won’t have to find a place,” she said. “You’ll have one with me.”

Both Jacob and Ashe looked taken aback.

“You’re family, Duncan,” said Carewyn with a smile. “And everything I’ve ever done -- everything I’m doing now -- is for my family...my blood one and my found one.”

She glanced at Percy, who beamed, before turning her gaze back to Ashe.

“You’ll always have a home with me, when you don’t have one with my brother,” she said very firmly. “Always.”

Ashe looked faintly stunned. His eyes trailed over Carewyn’s face, analyzing every inch as if he’d never seen anyone quite like her. His gaze flitted back over to Jacob, whose face had broken into a very warm, tear-choked smile.

Seeing the intense emotion in his partner’s face, Ashe couldn’t help but bow his head and clear his throat as he struggled to keep his composure.

“Ahem...well...that’s...nice.”

He glanced at Carewyn out the side of his eye almost hesitantly. The Admiral’s smile softened that bit more, becoming more sympathetic, and finally Ashe’s face slowly broke out into a very small, soft smile too. He brought up a hand and rested it on the crown of her head, lightly messing up her bangs.

“Guess I’ll just stick with you in the interim, then,” he said airily, “considering the Brethren Court’s instructions.”

Percy blinked in surprise. “The Brethren Court?”

Jacob nodded. “We took a vote and our Pirate King decided that a ‘representative’ should deliver the Court’s demands to the Admiral and the British Crown. Originally the plan was to have Ashe and me rendez-vous with you, and for Ashe to stay with you until ‘the terms were met.’”

“Jack would’ve done it himself if he could, but of course, he sort of needs to stick to the sea, unless he wants to waste his ‘one day every ten years,’” added Ashe.

“What terms did the Court decide on?” asked Ben, his arms crossed loosely over his chest. “I assume they want pardons for themselves and their crews...but just pardoning a mob of pirates isn’t going to fix things on its own.”

Jacob nodded. “Aye. The Court requested a ‘path toward reintegration’ -- one that includes pardons, as well as a job that suits our sailing and, er... ‘financially-inclined’ talents and can be used to build a future for ourselves and any families we may want to support. Amari’s First Mate said there would only be a 58% chance that the King would accept those terms, but he hoped that you ‘being put under duress’ by a pirate while submitting those terms in writing might improve the odds slightly -- ”

“I don’t think that will be necessary,” said Carewyn very primly.

This startled both Jacob and Ashe. Carewyn exchanged a wry smile with Ben.

“We’re already heading to London right now,” said Ben, his smirk noticeably broader than Carewyn’s. “The Admiral plans on requesting an audience with the King himself.”

“With Beckett gone, I’m in the best position I’ll ever be in, to make my move,” Carewyn said, her blue eyes flashing with determined fire. “I’m done with staying silent -- I intend to convince the King to give every pirate the chance to start their lives over.”

And so Carewyn sailed for London with Ashe, Ben, and Percy as her entourage. Meeting King George I would be a formidable proposition for anyone, but Carewyn fortunately was able to prepare a little ahead of time. The Weasley family had grown up near London, so Percy was able to give Carewyn some advice of how to approach the King --

“His Majesty was born and raised in the Holy Roman Empire, so English is not his first language. There are some rumors that he really doesn’t even speak English at all, but I think that’s highly exaggerated -- anti-German sentiment more than anything, you know. One thing that’s for sure, though, is that what he says goes. He’s even ostracized his own son and heir, so I’ve heard, since he was more popular with the British people. But he also can’t stand the Tories -- they never quite accepted his claim to the throne, over the Stuarts...honestly, there are a lot of people who’ve never really warmed up to the man...”

“And financially?” asked Carewyn.

Percy considered this. “...Well, the King’s very wealthy, certainly -- everyone knows that. But I suppose profit would always be advantageous, for the sake of the Empire...”

Carewyn smiled wryly and shook her head. “The Navy has been commanded by the East India Trading Company more than the King himself, as of late. Beckett once equated money with power, and I think there was a reason. If the King’s been leaning so heavily on the Company, that tells me that it had financial resources the Crown is in desperate need of, so the Crown’s own coffers currently depend on the Company’s success.”

Ben got an delighted, devious glint in his eye.

“Bet he’ll be absolutely thrilled to hear what happened to his fleet, then,” he said sarcastically.

Ashe and Carewyn exchanged a smirk too.

“I reckon you could play to that desperation,” said Ashe dryly. “A lack of or loss of wealth is a very common fear among men, I’ve found.”

Carewyn nodded in agreement. 

Within twenty days, the HMS Royal docked in London, a few days ahead of schedule thanks to the almost miraculously clear weather and friendly winds. Carewyn then traveled with Percy, Ashe, and Ben to Kensington Palace. It was only one of many castles owned by the King, but according to Percy, it was the one King George I had renovated the most, so Carewyn sussed out that it was likely his favorite of his residences and so, in her opinion, the best place to seek him out first. Her intuition turned out to be spot-on -- as it turned out, both King George I and his son the Prince were there, and although the King was occupied with his Ministers and couldn’t meet with them until that evening, Prince George Augustus was eager to meet the famous Admiral Weasley and requested an audience in one of the royal drawing rooms.

The Crown Prince of England was an amiable and warm, but not a very clever or intellectual man of about forty years. He expressed a lot of interest in Carewyn’s experience as a Navy hero, sounding rather like a child as he questioned her about facing off against the likes of Orion Amari and the crew of the dreaded ship Revenge. Carewyn did have to tailor her stories somewhat, but after a while, she was able to get Prince George comfortable enough that they ended up talking casually over a game of Cribbage, where Carewyn gleaned a few other helpful insights. For one, Carewyn learned that both the King and Prince knew several languages, the first being French, which was the preferred language at court as well as among royals abroad. She also found out that the royal family had never visited the colonies themselves, and that King George I’s leading advisor on matters of business -- the First Lord of the Treasury, Sir Robert Walpole -- had been personally putting more stock in the East India Trading Company than on investing any additional money into the colonies. From the sound of things, he believed as Cutler Beckett did in the power of money over noble ancestry, and yet the Prince conceded that his wife and father both thought well of him and that he was relatively amiable.

When Carewyn finally got her audience with King George I, she sure enough encountered Sir Robert Walpole. He was a broad middle-aged man with a powdered white wig curled into ringlets who stood beside the gray-wigged, tiny-eyed elderly King -- and the news of Cutler Beckett’s fate and the outcome of the confrontation at Shipwreck Cove visibly troubled him. As Carewyn had thought, the Crown had been counting on the East India Trading Company’s profits to flow back toward England to offset the national debt brought on by the War of Spanish Succession and Britain’s other conflicts...and so, when she made her proposal to the King, she felt rather confident.

“Votre Majesté...the scourge of piracy is indeed a threat, not just to the lives of our citizens, but to the Empire’s prosperity. But the East India Trading Company is a business -- they’re not trained in military matters, nor do they know how best to use the resources of the British Crown to combat this problem. They’re not equipped to deal with sensitive matters of state, which truthfully, I believe this to be. We don’t need to get England tied up in another military conflict...particularly when there’s a much more cost-effective alternative.”

King George I raised his graying eyebrows with some interest, but did not speak.

“And what alternative would you suggest, Admiral?” asked Walpole, looking rather curious himself.

“Investing in the colonies,” said Carewyn very firmly. “There’s still a lot of undeveloped land out there -- a lot of trading potential in beaver skins, lumber, and tobacco -- the possibility of wealth that’s been left untapped by the East India Trading Company, with their intense focus on Asia. These men who have become pirates, many of them, were privateers under us during our War against the Spanish. They know shipping and are in need of honest work. They’ve asked for it explicitly. I say that we offer pardons to those pirates who would be willing to work for a new trading company in New England -- one that can be for the colonies what the Company in India already is.”

Walpole frowned deeply in thought, considering the proposal. King George straightened up slightly in his throne so he could peer down at Carewyn with a beady eye.

“You believe, truly, that these criminals would want honest employment?” the old man asked.

His voice was very quiet and laced with a husky German accent. Apparently Percy was right to think the rumors that he couldn’t speak English weren’t true, but he seemed a bit uncomfortable with the language, all the same.

Carewyn smiled at the King. “Oui, mon roi. Beasts can survive on human flesh alone, but humans need a home and money in order to live well. Et les pirates...pardon, I hope that word is correct...sont juste les humains.”

King George’s tiny eyes softened noticeably.

“Your French is very poor, Admiral,” he said in rather smug amusement, “but your word choice is correct.”

He looked at Walpole. “What say you, Earl?”

Walpole considered his answer. “...It could be an interesting proposition -- were we able to locate someone who’d be willing to put his name, reputation, and estate on the line, to fund such a company...”

“I volunteer.”

Ben took a step forward and gave a low, but clipped bow to the King.

“Lord Earl, Your Majesty, this is Captain Gordon Cooper, of the HMS Royal,” Carewyn introduced him. “He was instrumental in helping me lead our men during the battle at Shipwreck Cove.”

“I already have a small sum of money saved up, your Majesty -- enough to purchase one or two ships of my own, to start with,” said Ben. “I truly believe that the profits I could make with those two ships just from offering safe passage to the colonies would be enough to fund the purchase of another. All I’d need would be some collateral to pay a crew for each ship in advance.”

"A standard ship would only need about ten well-bodied men to sail it and transport its cargo efficiently,” Carewyn said quickly, seeing the slight hesitation in the King’s expression. "I’m no expert in finance -- ” she inclined her head respectfully in Walpole’s direction, “ -- but in order to settle more land in the colonies, trees would have to be cut down...which means more lumber to transport back to England. If the people Captain Cooper’s ships are transporting are settlers who are incentivized to build homes there -- possibly with the promise of land ownership -- then their arrival alone would spark a boom of lumber sales. That could then pay back the investment several times over.”

Walpole’s lips spread into a smile, one wryer than the King’s. He was clearly a much more discerning man than either of the two Georges, but he seemed pleased by the proposition, nonetheless.

“...Indeed it could,” he granted. He glanced at the King. “I daresay old Townsend would be pleased to have some financial leverage for his talks with the Spanish and French...”

“Mm...”

King George I gave a short, pompous nod before turning back to face Carewyn and the others.

“Very well. I grant my favor.”

Walpole inclined his head to Ben. “Captain Cooper, the Crown grants you and your Company permission to sail. We shall provide you a loan of 10,000 pounds sterling for your first twenty sailors and any necessary ship repairs, to be paid back with interest within a year. If your sailors complete a successful -- namely, profitable -- round-trip expedition to London on board those ships, then they will receive a full pardon from the British Crown for their past crimes and be permitted to continue working as part of your Company.”

Carewyn’s companions’ eyes all lit up.

“Understood,” said Ben, his face consumed by a huge grin.

“Admiral Weasley will deliver the terms to the pirates -- quietly,” said the King with a stern eye. “I expect written reports and good results.”

Carewyn’s face burst into a brilliant smile too, which she tried to obscure when she brought an arm up to her chest and gave a low bow.

“Mais oui. Merci, votre Grace -- we’ll work hard pour England, et pour vous aussi.”

The King’s eyes sparkled with the trace of a wry smile. “Vous etes un garçon très divertissant, Amiral. J'espère que votre français se sera amélioré lors de notre prochaine rencontre.”

With the King’s blessing, Ben purchased the ships needed in London and, with Percy’s help, prepared them for their first expedition. Carewyn returned to the HMS Lion with Ashe, taking it out to sea just far enough that the Flying Dutchman could emerge from the water and pull up alongside the Navy ship. Carewyn relayed King George I’s decision to Jacob in her cabin, and the Captain of the Flying Dutchman was so overwhelmed with pride that he threw his arms around his little sister and squeezed her with all of his strength. Carewyn, however, found herself unable to celebrate.

“What’s wrong, Wyn?” said Jacob. He tilted his head to look at her, his eel-like ponytail twitching almost curiously behind him. “You did it -- you convinced the King. The Lords at Shipwreck Cove, all the people who live there, will be able to live normal lives again, and it’s all thanks to you.”

“I know,” said Carewyn lowly.

Despite herself, she just couldn’t meet her brother’s gaze. Her eyes lingered on his shoulder.

“...I just wish I could’ve given you that kind of normal life too,” she admitted.

Jacob’s blue eyes darkened. Bringing up both of his arms, he encircled Carewyn and held her tightly against his chest as he rested his head on top of hers. Carewyn bit her lip, trying to hold in her emotions as best she could.

“I wanted to bring you home,” she murmured. “The whole reason I wanted to fight for a world where pirates could be forgiven was because I wanted you to be able to come home...you and Bill and Charlie and Jules and Orion...”

Jacob squeezed Carewyn that bit tighter. Both Cromwells were crying now, even though they both stubbornly fought to keep themselves from breaking down into full sobs.

Ashe shared a grim look  with Jacob over Carewyn’s head. Then he came up beside both of them, resting a hand on the crown of Carewyn’s head and leaning his forehead against his lover’s, and hummed something low under his breath. The resonant bass tone seemed to slowly calm Carewyn’s heart and breathing and help the tears ebb.

After a moment, she took a deep breath and looked up at Ashe with muted gratitude, before she turned back to her brother.

“...Now that I’ve done my duty and made sure the Crown’s terms were delivered, I intend to send in my resignation to the Navy. I can’t support Ben’s new Company while I’m still Admiral without worrying about a conflict of interest, after all.”

She offered a weak wry smile, which then slowly morphed into a much more gentle one.

“Besides...I think I’m ready to finally stop fighting.”

Jacob’s teary eyes softened fondly. “Then live, my sweet Wyn. Live in peace and happiness...”

With a heavy breath, he picked up the Dead Man’s Chest he’d brought with him back off Carewyn’s desk and faced Ashe.

“I’ll need to head to the next world soon,” said Jacob. “Would you...?”

Ashe inclined his head in a solemn nod. “Give it to me, Jack.”

Very carefully, Jacob placed the Chest into Ashe’s open hands, trailing his own much dirtier, faintly trembling hands over his lover’s once he’d taken it. His eyes darted from Ashe to Carewyn, looking heartbroken and almost starved -- like he longed so much to never look away from them again.

“Be safe,” Jacob mumbled, “and...please, keep a weather eye on the horizon for me?”

“How dare you ask me that.”

Ashe trailed his lips along the side of Jacob’s face in lingering, messy kisses, only pausing briefly to look him in the eye, blazing brown on blue.

“I will always wait, Jack. I will always find you again.”

Carewyn’s eyes were just as soft as she reached up into the inside pocket of her jacket and slowly withdrew a familiar star-like, sapphire-and-diamond pendant for Jacob to see.

It was the one he himself had given her on Isle de Muerta.

Jacob’s eyes flooded with more tears as Carewyn wrapped both of her arms around her brother’s neck, hugging him tightly just as she had then.

“We’ll be there, Jacob,” she murmured. Two streaks of tears slid from her closed eyes. “I promise.”

Jacob delivered the British Crown’s terms to the Brethren Court at Shipwreck Cove within two days, after he’d returned from ferrying the proper souls to the next life. Within a month, a ship full of twenty sailors had arrived in London, ready to man the red-and-blue-painted ships Ben Copper had purchased. The two ships set sail for the colonies, the first up to New England and the second down to the Caribbean, which allowed Percy to return home to Port Royal and go about his duties as Commodore and Ben to finally be reunited with his love Wendy Gordon and propose marriage as a free and prosperous man.

Once the two ships returned to London another month later, the first wave of pardons was signed. From there, Ben’s enterprise -- the Gordon-Cooper Trading Company -- grew, taking on more ships that then proceeded to employ the once-most-wanted criminals in the world and give them a chance at a new life. And Carewyn -- retiring with full honors from the Navy and settling in New York City with Ashe under her real name for the first time since she was a child -- visited the dock every morning to see every ship that came in.

The first ship to New York brought Ellie Hopper. The once-Pirate Lord of the Mediterranean Sea ended up colliding with the soft-spoken third son of the well-respected horse breeder Johan Schaefer in upstate New York, and the two were married within a few years.

The second ship brought Merula Snyde and the stylish Frenchman Andre Egwu. The captain of the so-called “most powerful ship on the seven seas” continued as a merchant, breaking off from the Gordon-Cooper Trading Company to buy her own ship and engage in the tobacco and sugar trade between New England and the southern colonies. Andre opened up his own clothing shop in Philadelphia and soon became one of the most sought-after tailors in Pennsylvania.

The third ship brought Bill and Jules.

When Bill caught sight of Carewyn at the dock, he practically barreled his way down the ship’s gangplank and shoved a good ten people aside to reach his best friend. The two gingers and Jules then clung to each other for what felt like hours, tears of joy streaming down their faces as Bill trailed a hand through Carewyn’s now-loose-flowing hair and Jules fawned over Carewyn’s pretty new dress.

Bill and Jules also brought a letter from Charlie with them --

My twin, Carey,

I’m sorry I won’t be able to give you this news in person -- but I won’t be accepting my pardon for a while yet.

At Shipwreck Cove, I met a woman named Sarahi (I don’t believe you know her, but she knows you, and Orion spoke very well of her), who grew up in the area of the Pacific Ocean. According to what she’s said, it’s been left largely in chaos since the death of Bartholomew Sharp -- sea serpents, carnivorous sirens, giant squids, the whole lot...and as Pirate Lord of the Pacific, it’s my responsibility to manage things there. But hey, you know I’ve never been afraid of a little adventure! Particularly when I’ve got a good crew on my side. My First Mate Barnaby’s injuries have completely healed, so we, Sarahi, and Samantha O’Connell will be heading out within the next three days on the new and improved Revolution. Sam and Sarahi helped me paint some red dragon wings on the sides, just as a flourish!

I miss you so much, and I miss Bill already, just writing this -- but I know that we won’t ever be truly apart, even when I can only see you in my mind’s eye. I know you’ll probably be worried about me, Carey, but please don’t be. I’d trust my crew with my life -- I already have, honestly, and they sure haven’t let me down yet! I can’t wait for you to meet them. I reckon you’d probably “mother” the hell out of Barnaby, and Sarahi was really happy when I told her how good of a singer you are, so she’s very excited about the prospect of singing with you. And Sam...I reckon you and she will get on famously.

Remember, Carey...we’re family, now and forever! You’ll be in my mind and heart always, until I sail up into New York Harbor and see you again! If Bill hasn’t given you the biggest hug ever for my sake, then give him a good kick to the shin and remind him. Take good care of him, Jules, and Percy for me. Love you so much.

Your brother,

Charlie

Bill and Jules Weasley ended up settling down and starting a family of their own in New York City, just twelve blocks away from where Carewyn and Ashe lived. It was not uncommon over the years for both Carewyn and Ashe to pick up babysitting duties, though Ashe most frequently would just use his particular talent for singing to put any fussy children right to sleep and then drop them off in either Carewyn’s or Jules’s lap.

Over the next six months, more and more red-and-blue ships passed through New York Harbor, dropping off more pardoned ex-pirates so they could start new lives in the colonies. Then one day, toward the end of spring, Carewyn left the brick house she shared with Ashe as if to head for the dock as usual, only to stop mid-step at the sound of someone shouting her name.

“Carewyn!”

She turned around, her ginger hair flourishing behind her as if in slow motion.

A man had just leapt off the back of a carriage he’d been hanging off of without the driver’s knowledge and was now running toward her. Carewyn squinted, taking in his unfamiliar dark ponytail and sailor’s clothes -- then, within seconds, she recognized the handsomely smiling, bearded face and his shining, galaxy-like eyes.

“Orion?” she breathed.

Her heart seemed to seize up, as if it were being squeezed in someone’s hand and yet being given wings at the exact same time. Then she threw herself into a run, and it slammed against her rib cage, as she ran to him, flat-out ignoring how her knees kept getting caught in her hoops and her heeled shoes pinched her feet.

“Orion -- ORION!”

She just about tripped into his arms. Orion caught her and swooped down on her, burying his face in her hair.

“Carewyn...” he murmured against her neck.

“Orion,” said Carewyn.

Her voice was strained with the effort of trying to contain her joy. It felt like she was being stretched at the seams and probably could’ve exploded from all the intense emotions beating at the edges of her heart. She secured her arms around his neck and clung to him -- she brought her lips up to the side of his temple and kissed it, resting her forehead against his briefly before finally pulling away enough to look him in the face.

Orion was beaming from ear to ear as he brought up a hand to trail his thumb gently along her cheek.

“...Carewyn Cromwell...I don’t think you’ve ever looked more fair.”

Carewyn smiled. “Does that mean you like my new look?”

“Yes,” said Orion, his eyes grazing her black-and-white-striped dress and the diamond-and-sapphire pendant tied with a black ribbon around her neck briefly, “but that’s not why you look so fair. You’ve been my moon goddess, previously...but now you are Libertas, personified.”

Carewyn laughed, her face contorted with confusion. “What?”

“Libertas, Carewyn,” repeated Orion, his huge smile never faltering. “The goddess of freedom! Freedom is the most beautiful thing, Carewyn. I’ve longed for it all my life, but never could truly have it, whether because I lacked the means of survival or because I was a pirate who could only live on the run. And when we first met again, on the Artemis...the thing that hurt me the most, seeing you again...was knowing that you were trapped by your position -- enslaved to the duty that made you hide who you were and march lock-step with the likes of Cutler Beckett. But now you...in this moment, here...you are free. It shines in your eyes, on your face -- it radiates off of you like a star, Carewyn. Better still -- because of you, I am free. For the first time in my life...I’m completely free to chase my heart’s desire...”

Orion’s smile seemed to shrink slightly, not out of lack of happiness but out of something almost like nerves, as he reached into his lone remaining belt and slipped out a familiar black-lidded compass.

"McNully, Skye and I have been offered salaried positions with the Gordon-Cooper Trading Company,” he said a bit more seriously, “so I may have to return to sea in the future, but...”

When he opened the compass, its scarlet arrow was pointed right at Carewyn.

“...My heart’s desire has not changed. I would always return, if you...”

He trailed off, his tone oddly shy for how calm his face appeared. The once-Admiral’s red-painted lips spread into a bigger, fuller smile too as she rested her hands on top of his.

“I wouldn’t have married you in the middle of a storm if I didn’t want to build a life with you, Orion Amari,” she said gently. “Or is it Cromwell now? We may want to make a decision about that...”

She smoothed some dark hair out of his eyes.

“I already told you that I want you to have a home. If you need to fly like a bird...then I’ll be your nest.”

Carewyn placed a soft, chaste kiss to his lips. His black eyes softening, Orion brought up a hand to hold the back of her head, holding it in place. He kissed her chastely in return once, twice, and then deepened the kiss on the third go. After he released her, he lingered, his lips brushing up against hers as he smiled down at her.

“...My dear Bedlam maid...I will always follow your song home.”

Carewyn’s blue eyes sparkled affectionately. “Then I’ll never stop singing.”

“See that you don’t,” said Orion, his black eyes glittering with some wry amusement. “I do believe I said I’d envisioned a life for you where you married a man that you could sing for.”

Carewyn laughed quietly, but after a moment, she brought her forehead beside her husband’s, her arms secure around his neck as she held him close and sang for him.

“So now these two are married, and happy may they be, Like turtle doves together, in love and unity.

All pretty maids, with patience wait, that have got loves at sea – I love my love because I know...my love…loves…me.”

[kasienda]

Restorative Justice - Chapter 2 - Preparation

Summary: Chloé has never been a fan of Ms. Bustier’s community building activities. In fact, she detests them. She doesn’t want to learn about the drab boring lives of her peers. And she absolutely can’t stand it when their confessions make her feel things. Feelings that she doesn’t even have names for. But when Adrien unknowingly shares his struggles with his double life, Chloé vows she will do anything to get Ladybug set things right. Even if it means pissing off the heroine. Chloé was already mad at her anyway.

Chapter 1 - Community Circle

Chapter 2 - Preparation

Two weeks had gone by and Chloé had made absolutely zero progress in her self-assigned secret mission, though it wasn’t for lack of trying. She had spent hours on the roof of the hotel with the bee signal trained towards the sky both during, and not during, akuma attacks hoping Ladybug would give her the time of day. Chloé wasn’t sure what she was going to say exactly, but she figured Ladybug needed to know that she was going to lose her partner if she kept echoing the way his father treated him. It hadn’t mattered, because Ladybug never came. When the spotted heroine hadn’t shown up over the course of several days, Chloé staged a loud conversation with Sabrina during class about how she wasn’t even going to ask for the Bee Miraculous (though of course Ladybug would be better off with Chloé on her team). She just needed to give Ladybug some valuable intel. But Ladybug still hadn’t shown. And neither had Chat Noir. Which stung more than a little bit. Adrien had heard the conversation as well. And supposedly, he still considered her a friend. At least, that’s what he said when she asked if he was mad at her for something. He had seemed genuinely confused at the question. But it wasn’t like she could follow up with a “Then why didn’t Chat Noir show up on my hotel roof when I asked him to?” She supposed that neither of the heroes truly believed she had anything valuable to share with them. God! She wanted to tear her hair from her scalp in frustration. They were both so dumb! 

Keep Reading on Ao3

When contacting them as superheros failed, she figured that she would try their civilian personas. Chloé had taken two steps toward Marinette one morning in the courtyard when the girl was there early for once before promptly changing her mind. Marinette was never ever going to hear her out. As Ladybug, the girl had to at least pretend to be neutral toward Chloé. But as Marinette? Absolutely no way! Really, Chloé didn’t need them to talk to her anyway. She just needed them to talk to each other with complete honesty. But as long as they didn’t know who the other was they couldn’t be that honest. What if she just sent them anonymous notes in their lockers or something? It wouldn’t even have to be long! Adrien Agreste is Chat Noir. Ladybug is Marinette Dupain-Cheng. Boom! Done! End of story. Chloé had seriously contemplated it. She had the notes written out and everything. She was just waiting for the opportune moment to slip them into said lockers. But then the whole ‘Lila planting evidence in Marinette’s locker’ thing happened. Clearly, lockers were not secure enough. Chloé had shredded the notes. And unfortunately, the blonde was back to trying to talk to Marinette. Chloé had found her alone at a table in the library during a study period. Marinette had five books sprawled out around her as she frantically scribbled on a piece of paper. Chloé stood in front of the table expectantly. Marinette didn’t even look up. Chloé cleared her throat dramatically, which only earned her a sparing glance before Marinette’s attention was back on her reference book. The blonde thought about just asking if they could talk for a minute, like a normal person, but this was Marinette. And well, Chloé had never been reasonable with Marinette. Especially not when Marinette was ignoring her. So instead, Chloé went and collected two volumes of an encyclopedia before returning to Marinette’s table. She then dropped the books unceremoniously from as high as she could comfortably reach. The heavy blue volumes hit the table with an explosion of sound. Marinette jumped twenty centimeters from her seat, her gaze shooting up in indignant frustration. “Chloé!” she shrieked. “What the hell?” “You were ignoring me,” Chloé observed. Marinette sighed, rapidly moving to collect her belongings. “I seriously don’t have time for this today. Can’t you just disappear until tomorrow or something?” “You need to listen to me!” Chloé insisted. Marinette stacked up her reference books into a neat pile. “I don’t need to do anything of the sort,” Marinette told her before stuffing the last of her work back into her backpack, and leaving the blonde alone at the table. In the library. With dusty books. Ugh.   Really, Chloé needed to just lock them in a closet together or something! Surely, Sabrina could come up with some scheme to get them in a room with no windows and a locked door. Surely, the hotel had some storage closet somewhere that they could use. Or maybe something at school would work better.  Sabrina was amazing at getting people to do as she wanted. And God, that had come in handy on occasion. Adrien wouldn’t be hard. He might even listen to Chloé, but she’d need Sabrina for Marinette. Only Sabrina could still trick Marinette. It wouldn’t really work though. Marinette would probably love the forced alone time with Adrien. And they were both so stubborn. They’d never reveal their identities just to get out of a locked room. Her fingernails clicked on the desk in rapid succession like a series of grace notes. They wouldn’t reveal their identities for their own convenience, sure. But if someone else needed Ladybug and Chat Noir? So, Chloé would just have to lock them in a room together and then inspire an akuma. It wouldn’t be that hard, would it? And creating an atmosphere for an akuma shouldn’t be that challenging either, should it? Like, she had done it by accident how many times now? How very heroic. She quickly realized it couldn’t work anyway. For them to know about an akuma, they’d have to have their phones, but if they had their phones, what would stop them from contacting Adrien’s bodyguard or Alya and Nino to get out of the room? She had tried to approach Adrien directly, too. She only had the five or so minutes before he had to be in his limo after their last class, being shipped off to whatever lesson he had going on that day.   “It’s been a long time since we talked, Adri-kins,” she told him. “We should set up a lunch date to catch up.” He smiled at her. “My schedule is really packed this week, Chloé. Maybe have your people call my people to set something up later in the month?” he said lightly, as he brought his fencing bag to his shoulder.   The brush off hurt more than a little bit. But of course he would want to spend every scrap of free time with his close friends. Which was a very short list, and she was clearly no longer on it. Maybe this whole idea wasn’t worth it in the first place. Like, why was she trying so hard to help Adrien when he barely gave her any of his time or attention anymore? “But maybe I have something important and urgent to talk to you about,” she admitted. He tensed, his green eyes giving a cursory glance over her whole form. “Is something wrong?” He reached out a hand to her shoulder. “Has your mother…?” She waved away his physical comfort. “My mother is in New York!” she snapped impatiently. “She hasn’t spoken to me in weeks.” Which meant she couldn’t have said anything hurtful to tear Chloé to pieces. She had no reason to be upset. None at all. But his frown only deepened, and he stepped forward again. And that’s when she realized he probably would make time for her if she asked. The idiot. “It’s nothing about any of that. I’m fine. I’m worried about you,” she insisted emphatically. And with those words he pulled away, and closed himself off immediately. “I’m fine, Chloé,” he told her with that stupid pasted on fake smile. “What could I possibly have to complain about?” he asked her before walking to the door and waving farewell. She had wanted to run after him so she could scream at him. That had been three days ago. She furiously wiped away the tears that were sliding down her cheeks. Why couldn’t she help him? Why wouldn’t he let her? He was growing more withdrawn by the day! Not that anyone other than her seemed to notice. Which she couldn’t understand! It was so obvious! When he had first come to school, he had been an excited puppy anytime anyone included him in a conversation or invited him to some social outing. Chloé had assumed that the novelty of school and peers would eventually wear off, but a solid year later, it hadn’t. He was still an excited puppy with any scrap of affection. Or he had been until recently. Adrien had been far less animated for the past week. He still smiled and said all the right things when people engaged with him, but it wasn’t real. He was going through the motions. Pulling out the politeness and the charm that had been drilled into him as a child that grew up in the spotlight. And normally, Chloé could have dismissed the change in behavior as a sign of fatigue. The akumas recently had been constant and brutal, and Gabriel showed no signs of easing up on Adrien’s commitments or expectations. But it was more than that because he hadn’t transformed gradually over time as his responsibilities built up. No, he had changed from puppy Adrien to polite Adrien in the span of a few minutes. From sunshine-child to creature-of-the-night literally instantaneously. Chloé had been in class sitting next to Sabrina as always, working on their project. Or well, letting Sabrina take notes on their project, but whatever. Ayla and Marinette sat in their usual seats with their heads together with Nino sitting a few feet away occasionally laughing or shaking his head at whatever nonsense they were saying. Then Adrien had arrived late to class from a photoshoot of something. “What are you guys talking about,” he had asked as he took his seat next to Nino. “N-nothing!” Marinette had stammered, her face turning tomato-red. Nino rolled his eyes again. “Don’t worry about it, dude. Girls are crazy.” And Chloé had watched Adrien’s shoulders stiffen. And his eyes go flat. And of course there was that stupid polite smile in place. He was upset. He was upset that they his friends were keeping things from him. And of course the other three keeping secrets from him would drive a wedge into his soul. How could they not know that? Chloé didn’t care that they were doing it to protect whatever was left of Marinette’s dignity. Chloé didn’t care about Marinette’s dignity at all. They were hurting him. Making him think they didn’t trust him either. Just like his father. Just like Ladybug. And since that day, he had stopped initiating conversations. He didn’t talk about his favorite video games, or whatever anime he had binged that past weekend. He didn’t light up like a supernova when Nino asked him to come to a party or the girls invited him out to ice cream. And worse, he wasn’t accepting their invitations. He was making excuses for why he couldn’t even try. Not even real excuses like whatever stupid lessons his father had him taking, but fake ones about being tired or needing to study. As if! Adrien didn’t really need to study. He was one of those obnoxiously intelligent kids who just absorbed academic knowledge through osmosis or whatever. And even if he needed to study, (which Chloé still doubted), he wouldn’t miss out on time with his friends to do it. He would just stay up all night instead. But he was declining invitations and she guessed everyone was just so accustomed to him not being able to come, that they didn’t notice he had stopped trying. And the second his friends’ eyes were off him, he would wilt like a plant without water. And his so-called friends didn’t notice that either! Not even Nino. But Chloé noticed.

And she didn’t like it. And as loathe as Chloé was to admit it, Marinette wasn’t faring any better. She was probably worse actually. The part-time superheroine had bags under eyes, and she was constantly falling asleep in class only to wake up screaming in pure terror. Chloé did not want to know what those nightmares were about. Then, the civilian side of Paris’s savior and super heroine had randomly burst into tears at least twice in the last three days, and refused to explain to anyone - even Alya - what was upsetting her. But that didn’t mean Chloé had to help her. Marinette had made it clear that she didn’t want Chloé’s help, which was just fine because the feeling was completely and thoroughly mutual. Marinette had always acted like she was some great authority on moral goodness. But Chloé knew Marinette was selfish, too. Marinette neglected responsibilities for her own gain, she lied more frequently than anyone realized, and she pushed her way into situations that were none of her business thinking she knew better than everyone, often making everything worse! Marinette always assumed the worst of Chloé even when she legitimately was trying to help. Which is likely why Ladybug had always assumed the worst of Chloé even in the very beginning when Chloé had tried to help her locate Vanisher’s akuma. Why Ladybug had been so insistent on seeing the worst in Queen Bee even right after she had helped Ladybug and Chat Noir rescue that runaway speed train. The heroine hadn’t been wrong in that instance, but that was hardly the point! But then, something had changed when her father had been akumatized the first time. And the spotted heroine Chloé had so admired offered her compassion, a shoulder to cry on, and a second chance. Told her she wasn’t useless and could become a hero if she wanted to be. Had invited her, Chloé, to race across rooftops and serve as her partner against a vicious akuma, when Chat Noir had been mentally transformed into an actual cat. And for the first time in a long time, Chloé had had hope that she could become something… better. Something… worthwhile. No matter what her mother said, or her classmates thought of her - she could be a hero. Someone others trusted without question, someone people respected, looked up to, and emulated. Chloé didn’t know how to be that person, but she knew that she wanted it. And that she was willing to try. But then a few weeks later, Paris’s heroine had taken it all back. Even after Chloé fought against Hawkmoth with her. Even though Chloé hadn’t done anything differently. Even though she had tried to find others ways to build herself up instead of tear others down by making collages of selfies and videos dressed up as Ladybug rather than targeting others. None of it had mattered. Ladybug had just stopped coming to her with the miraculous. And then, right after Chloé had managed to fight off an akuma all on her own, Ladybug had shown up and said she’d never get the miraculous again because people knew who she was? It was a load of bullshit! Because that hadn’t mattered when her father was akumatized, it hadn’t mattered on Heroes Day! Which led Chloé to one inescapable conclusion - Ladybug was just like everyone else. Someone who changed the rules when it suited them, went back on their word without thought, and wasn’t nearly as kind or compassionate as she pretended to be. Really, Chloé should have known better than to ever hope. She shoved her notebook off the table in front of her, sending it flying into the back of Ms. Bustier’s desk with a satisfying bang when the metal furniture snapped back into form. “Chloé?” Chloé started at the voice of concern. Ms. Bustier slipped into the classroom from the door in the back and quickly approached her. “What’s wrong?” “Nothing!” Chloé spit out venomously, whirling away from her teacher towards the front of the room. Ms. Bustier put down her bag at her desk, rolled the chair from her desk in front of Chloé’s table, and took a seat. Chloé shifted uncomfortably. She didn’t want to talk out her feelings. “What were you working on?” her teacher asked, her voice calm and smooth as a still lake. Chloé shook her head rapidly. “Nothing! It was a stupid idea. I’m clearly not cut out for it.” “Maybe you just need some help,” was the gentle suggestion. Chloé sighed glancing up into the warm face of her teacher. “I… was trying to fix something. But I should’ve known better. I’m really good at making a mess of things. The idea of me fixing something is ridiculous.” Utterly ridiculous. Silence permeated the otherwise empty classroom. It was stifling. Chloé stared into her hands, folded under the desk. Her teacher remained silent, sending her emotions spiraling down to new depressing depths. Even Ms. Bustier didn’t know what to say. Clearly, Chloé was a lost cause. And so was her self assigned mission. “Do you want help?” Chloé looked up, searching the compelling green eyes of her teacher. She seemed earnest in her concern, but Chloé has been burned before. Her childhood nanny, Adele, had promised to help her, too. And then the petite woman had gotten herself fired and Chloé had never seen her again. It’s not like Bustier could actually help, anyway. But then, another thought struck through her psyche like lightning. Ms. Bustier totally could make a couple of kids sit alone in a room together. In a fucking circle. But Chloé hated circles. She took a deep breath. This was for Adrien. For Adrien. For Adrien. “Could… could we maybe do one of those circles? Not the community one, but the other one when people are fighting?” Ms. Bustier raised an eyebrow. “You want to do a restorative circle? Did I hear that right?” Want was not the correct word. But Chloé had tried everything she could think of. And at least the circle didn’t require getting someone akumatized. She forced herself to nod. Her teacher leaned forward and put a hand on Chloé’s knee. “Did something happen? Are you and Sabrina not speaking?” Chloé physically recoiled at the very idea. “What?! No! Sabrina is great. No… this would be with...” her indignation evaporated instantly, and she found her gaze glancing over the shoulder of her teacher’s white blazer. “With Marinette and Adrien.” Ms Bustier sat up straighter. “You’re just full of surprises today, Chloé.” Chloé risked another glance up, but her homeroom teacher was smiling. “Okay, and was anyone else affected by this conflict? Anyone else that you think is involved or might have hurt feelings? Or anyone else that hurt you in this same conflict?” Chloé cocked her head to the side, letting herself consider the question. Really, it just needed to be Marinette, Adrien, and Chloé. But… Alya’s presence could prove to be incredibly useful. And if Alya was there, Nino would likely reinforce everything the brunette would say… The only problem was involving more people would piss off Ladybug even more. Chloé grinned at the thought. She had never been above getting a bit of revenge when it was deserved. (And maybe undeserved). All five of them it would be. “Césaire, Lahiffe, and Adri-kins,” Chloé supplied. Bustier went to her desk and retrieved a notebook and quickly wrote down the names. “What happened?” Chloé hesitated. Technically, nothing had happened, though of course she and Marinette had a ton of history, dozens of fights and altercations that she could pull from, and yet… “I tried to tell Marinette something really important. But she won’t listen to me. And I can’t totally fault her for that, but this is really really important. Like fate-of-the-world-important!” she exclaimed, her hand stretching out to indicate the scope of the situation at hand. “What is it that you want to tell her?” “That she’s a blind self righteous know-it-all,” Chloé ranted. “And she needs to knock it off because she’s hurting someone that we both care about.” “Adrien?” Ms Bustier guessed even as she was taking notes. Chloé nodded. “Yes, Adrien, but she doesn’t even know that she’s hurting him because he will just sit there and take it! He’ll never say anything,” she lamented, her lips twisted into an indignant sneer. “But eventually he’s going to break, Ms. Bustier. And I don’t want to see that! I’ve been trying to get her to talk to me so I could give her some context and explain what she was doing, but she ignores me completely, or won’t even let me say hello before she declares she doesn’t have time for me and runs off!” “I can see how that would be frustrating for you, Chloé,” Ms. Bustier empathized. “But I also need you to understand that the purpose of the circle is to heal things between you and Marinette. It is not so you can yell and berate her when she is not allowed to leave. Do you understand?” Chloé sighed, but nodded anyway. “Now, do you have any idea why Marinette might be acting this way? Any reason at all that Marinette might distrust you or be unwilling to hear you out?” Chloé glanced away toward the classroom window, her righteous anger fading. When she turned to the front again, her gaze remained locked on her nails. “Perhaps,” she admitted, her voice carefully flat. “I may have antagonized her unfairly once or twice in the past.” Ms. Bustier’s lips trembled as if she was trying not to laugh. Chloé huffed out a sigh. “Okay fine, I’ve done a lot to her over the years. But that’s not true this time! Listening to me would make her life far less stressful and get her closer to Adrien.” “That’s quite the claim,” Ms. Bustier commented neutrally. “It’s the truth!” she declared hotly. “Okay. I believe you. Now, is there anything specific that happened recently that would cause Marinette to be more irate with you than she usually is?” Chloé glanced down at her nails, but she really didn’t know what to say. Did throwing a fit when Ladybug said she could never have the Bee Miraculous back count? Because the truth was, since Chloé had figured out the heroine’s identity, she had no idea why Ladybug had given her a chance in the first place. And she was just as confused as to how she had managed to lose that chance a few weeks later. Chloé certainly hadn’t treated Marinette any worse than she normally did in the intervening time. She had even teamed up with the girl once so they could keep Kagami away from Adrien! Ms. Bustier sighed, placed her pen down on her notebook, and leaned forward. “Chloé, in order to facilitate a restorative conversation between you and Marinette and the others, I need to prepare. I can only do that if you tell me what happened.” The blonde nodded. What could she tell her that would be useful in Ms. Bustier being prepared? “I…. figured out one of her secrets, something that is really important to her. And then I told her friends.” “They didn’t already know?” Chloé shook her head. “How did the others react?” Chloé pursed her lips in thought. How would the others react? Adrien was going to turn into a puddle of goo. Alya probably wouldn’t be much better, but she would feel guilty as hell for the whole Lila debacle. Nino was a rock, so Chloé had no idea how he would respond. But Marinette? She was going to be out of this world pissed. And for a second, Chloé hesitated. “Chloé?” “You think I took the time to talk to the plebians?” she countered hotly, too late to actually be convincing. Bustier raised an eyebrow. Chloé wilted. “Okay, fine!” she relented. “But I really don’t know. I could guess, but I didn’t stick around to see their reactions directly,” she improvised on the spot. “Why did you tell them?” She glanced down into the palms of her hands. “Because… they needed to know,” she admitted softly. “They can’t help her if they don’t know. And she…” she was drowning and Chloé worried how long it would be before Marinette was the akuma. And then where would Paris be? “Despite what she thinks, she can’t do what she does alone. She needs them. Especially Adrien.” Chloé clutched at her head with both hands. God! What was wrong with her?! Why was she even trying to help Marinette? Marinette would only be livid. She wouldn’t be grateful. She certainly wouldn’t give Chloé another chance with the Bee Miraculous. This was supposed to be for Adrien! Adrien was the one who deserved to be seen and appreciated. Maybe it was for both of them. Maybe Chloé didn’t need anything in return. She looked up to see Ms. Bustier smiling at her. “And what was this secret?” her teacher asked. Chloe balked. She knew it was silly. Ms. Bustier was going to know everything tomorrow anyway. But she was afraid Bustier would back out if she knew the full extent of what this was about. “I’d rather not say.” Her teacher’s green eyes considered her for a moment, and Chloé had to look away again. She sighed again before the educator spoke. “Thank you for telling me this bit. I need to interview the others and understand their side of the story and then we’ll get something scheduled.” Chloé jumped to her feet, shaking her head violently. “No! You absolutely can not talk to them beforehand!” Ms. Bustier was not disturbed by Chloé’s outburst. “And why not?” “Because Marinette will never ever agree to this if she knows what it’s about. Trust me. But she’s wrong. She needs this. Actually, we all do. I promise, everything is my fault. It’s not theirs.” The words fell out of her mouth unfiltered like a runaway train. “Chloé, I have rarely encountered a conflict where one side was wholly at fault. I’m sure the others have contributed.” This track wasn’t working. “I won’t participate if you talk to them beforehand,” Chloé threatened. “That’s not how this works, Chloé.” “Please!” Chloé begged. “You don’t understand. I can’t explain completely, but Marinette will not come if she knows what it’s about. I’ve already tried like four times this week! We have to blindside her.” “What is it about?” “But Ms. Bustier! This secret… it’s really…” Chloé stammered, searching for words that would not come. “It puts Marinette in a really vulnerable position. I’m not willing to tell you on the off chance that you are not able to pull off this circle. But if we do meet and I am able to actually talk to her, I think the benefit will outweigh the drawbacks of you knowing.” Ms. Bustier’s green eyed gaze pierced through her, and Chloé found it difficult not to fidget on the spot. “You’re asking me to put a lot of faith in you, Chloé,” she finally said. “I know!” Chloé conceded, bowing her head down. “And I realize I probably don’t deserve it.” “I didn’t say that,” her teacher interjected. “But I’m trying to be worthy of it. I swear! I’m trying to be better,” her gaze fell to her shoes. Two fingers on her chin gently urged her gaze up. “All you have to be, Chloé, is yourself.” Chloé’s squeezed her eyes shut, trying to suppress the sudden burn behind her eyelids. She shook her head in denial. A warm hand fell onto her shoulder and squeezed reassurance. Chloé shrugged it off. She didn’t want to admit the contact felt good. She shouldn’t need reassurances like that. She couldn’t afford the weakness. “Just to warn you, Marinette is going to be absolutely pissed. You may think you’ve seen her in self righteous must-fix-all-the-injustices-in-the-world Marinette mode, but this will take things to an entirely new level. And you probably should just let her fly off the handle. I don’t need her to be respectful. I probably don’t deserve it anyway.” Ms Bustier offered a gentle smile. “We all deserve respect, Chloé. But we can also create the space for Marinette to air her grievances and for you to be treated with respect.” Chloé appreciated Bustier’s confidence, but she also knew the teacher only knew the tip of the iceberg. “Ms. Bustier?” she asked softly. Ms Bustier looked up from her notes and gave Chloé her attentive gaze. “Yes, Chloé?” Chloé swayed from one foot to the other, her hands fidgeting at her waist. “Can I ask about the “honor privacy” norm?” Ms. Bustier nodded. “What about it?” “Are you included in that? Will you respect Marinette’s and everyone else’s privacy?” “I’m required by law to report certain things like child abuse or suicidal thoughts, but I will honor privacy in all other respects.” Chloé bit her lower lip. Where did having a secret identity that required you to constantly put yourself in harm’s way fall into that? “So like... any time a student is in danger?” she suggested. Her teacher nodded even though she was taking down notes into her notebook. Chloé cringed. Yeah, this was probably definitely something that fell into the category of something a teacher was required to report. “But…” Chloé glanced away again. “What if reporting it increased the danger they were in?” Bustier looked up at her then and frowned. “Are you in danger, Chloé? Is Marinette?” Oh, what the hell?! In for a penny, in for a pound. “I’m in danger all the time,” Chloé explained with a straight face and was pleased to see Ms. Bustier’s face frowning in growing concern. “I’m Queen Bee,” she declared. Ms Bustier’s frown transformed into an amused smile. “If you wanted that to stay private Chloé, you probably shouldn’t have announced it on live television.” “But that’s my point. I’m always in danger because people know my identity. Papillon knows, and he’s already used me to get to Ladybug before.” Her teacher softened. “Are you worried that he’s going to try again?” “No! I…” she threw her hands down in frustration. “I can’t put this into words!” “What does this have to do with Marinette?” “N-nothing.” Chloé wondered one again, why she was stalling. If her plan worked, Bustier was going to know everything by the end of day tomorrow anyway. “I was just trying to give you an example where sharing the knowledge of a student being in danger would put them more in danger.” Ms. Bustier put her hand on Chloé’s shoulder again, and this time Chloé allowed the warmth to remain. “I can appreciate the nuance of such a situation,” her teacher reassured. “I would never put a student in danger if I can help it. You must understand though, sometimes my hands are tied by legal requirements.”

Chloé nodded, figuring that was close enough. Surely, there wasn’t a specific law about teachers being mandated to reveal a superhero’s identity. There had never been enough instances of teenaged superheroes to codify that kind of requirement. Right? Ms. Bustier smiled kindly at her. “Is there anything else you want to tell me, Chloé?” Chloé pursed her lips. “Not really, no,” she concluded. “May I ask you a question?” The blonde nodded her assent. “Why are you doing this now? Trying to make amends with Marinette, I mean?” Chloé fidgeted nervously. She still didn’t really know how she felt about Marinette. Or about Marinette being Ladybug. But that’s not why she was doing this anyway. “I’m doing it for Adrien,” she finally admitted. “He needs Marinette to actually see him. I don’t know what will happen to him if she doesn’t. I’m really scared for him.” “It’s not Marinette’s responsibility to save him, you know?” “Maybe not, but she’ll want to. When she has the full picture she will love him better than anyone in the whole world. And if she doesn’t, I will be there to grind her face into the ground.” “Chloé…” Ms Bustier chastised disapprovingly. Chloé held her hands up in mock surrender, but she wasn’t actually sorry. She meant it. If Marinette didn’t learn to better appreciate her partner, Chloé would definitely make certain she regretted it. … Chloé walked out of Bustier’s classroom after class feeling more optimistic than she had in the last sixteen days. Ms. Bustier had passed out slips to the five of them requesting their presence at the next day’s lunch period for a restorative circle, which meant this was actually going to happen. Maybe by end of day tomorrow she would see Adrien’s megawatt smile again for the first time in weeks. But Chloé still had one loose end to take care of before she was confident that she could push Marinette into being honest. And that loose end involved Alya. And Chloé couldn’t even delegate the task to Sabrina because that would reveal identities to a civilian, and while Chloé was all for pissing Ladybug off, she did understand the danger of too many people knowing. Not to mention, she didn’t want Sabrina in danger more than she had to be. Sabrina was able to tell her Alya’s whole schedule though. So that was helpful. Chloé left her things with Sabrina with directions to deliver her bags to her car, and left “to go to the bathroom” ten minutes before the last class was over to wait outside Césaire’s 6th period. She was lucky that apparently Marinette didn’t share the class. Alya was one of the last to leave. But when she walked out the door, Chloé immediately fell into step beside the Ladyblogger. “I need to talk to you,” Chloé began without preamble. Alya cast her a dark look. “Why would I want to talk to you?” Chloé tried not to growl. She was only half successful. “It’s about Marinette. She needs your help.” “Why should I believe you about anything regarding Marinette?” Alya snapped, readjusting her bag on her shoulder and picking up her speed, not bothering to make eye contact. Chloé matched her pace easily. “You eat up everything Rossi says about her like a child eats up candy! I thought you’d believe anything,” Chloé shot back. “This conversation is over,” Alya declared cooly, whirling away. Chloé scurried after her. “No wait! I’m... I’m sorry.” That got Alya to pause. “You’re what?” “You heard me,” the blonde growled back. Chloé wouldn’t say it again. No friggin’ way. “So, are you going to listen now?” “This has gotta be big if it got the high and mighty Chloé Bourgeois to apologize for something,” Alya reasoned even as she let her bag fall unceremoniously from her shoulder to the ground as she turned to Chloé. “Marinette needs your help. Adrien does too. But they’ll never come clean on their own and certainly not at my suggestion. I need you to come clean first.” Alya’s dark eyebrows furrowed together in confusion. “Come clean about what?” “About being the Fox.” Alya stared at her, her auburn eyes as wide as the Seine. “What?!” she hissed, suddenly up in Chloé’s face. Chloé held her ground, but didn’t resist Alya getting in her space. “I can’t explain. Ladybug will kill me. But tomorrow, Ms. Bustier is going to pull the five of us together.” “Five of us?” “You, me, Nino, Adrien, and Marinette. I’m going to introduce myself as the Bee. I need you to introduce yourself as the Fox. Please! It’s for Adrien... and Marinette too.” She tacked on as an afterthought. “Please trust me as one partime hero to another. I swear, I’m trying to help.” Alya shook her head, her eyebrows furrowed together like an angry cat. “I won’t betray Ladybug’s trust.” “You’ll be helping her!” Chloé countered. “And Marinette too.” “No way, Chloé. You can’t trick me.” And with that, the would-be-journalist stomped off. Chloé watched her go. “Well, that could have gone worse.” ...

[thewritinggrindstone]

Who Is Your Main Character, Anyway?

Over the last six months, I have noticed a recurring problem in every fiction manuscript I’ve edited and a few other nonfiction projects to boot. It’s a problem that’s both made editing significantly more difficult than the task otherwise might be and it’s killed all of these potentially entertaining novels dead, so permit me to ask you a question:

Who is your main character?

No, really. I’m serious. Do you know who your MC is? Can you point at a single character and definitively say, “Yes, this is my MC”?

If not, you—and your story—might be in trouble.

For reference’s sake, some of the novels I’ve edited since June 2019 include:

A collection of sci-fi short stories tied together with alternating chapters of an extremely and alarmingly abstract, philosophical variety

A contemporary novel revolving around health problems, corrupt management, and struggling teachers in a NYC school

A contemporary novel set in a heavenly courtroom that functioned as a soapbox for the author’s opinions on the current state of the US government

An urban fantasy set in modern-day NYC with trolls, fairies, dragons, and other fantastical beasts

I also edited a memoir about life in Crete during WWII that was told via a progressing series of anecdotes.

All five of these projects, which sound so different from the outside, share the same issue: The author didn’t understand the need for a main character.

But why is a main character important? In fact, isn’t it possible to have more than one MC? I hear the arguments: the MCU doesn’t have a single MC, and look at how utterly lucrative that series has been.

Fair point, and I’ll touch on multi-POV later, but for now, bear with me and treat the idea of a main character as one of the fundamental storytelling rules. And like all rules related to writing, you need to know how it works before you can effectively break it.

So what is a main character?

The typical main character in a novel is, at their very core, the character who both:

Has the highest stakes in the story’s climax

Goes through the most dramatic change themselves (positive/negative arc), or has the most dramatic change on the world around them (flat arc)

If either element is missing from the character, chances are they aren’t actually the MC.

Why is this important?

It’s important because if you don’t consciously determine who your MC is, you’re far more likely to be swayed by other characters who pop up and their respective stories. Suddenly one character has severe anxiety due to a crummy upbringing and all but vanishes after they begin recovering after a failed suicide attempt. Another is stealing medication from the locked nurse’s office to deal with a problem that isn’t quite important enough to actually receive mention in the novel. Yet another character becomes a mouthpiece for a topic the author is passionate about but doesn’t actually tie into the novel’s plot or theme. Suddenly there are characters crawling out of the woodwork, all interesting and unique and playing important enough roles that the author becomes distracted with the shiny and the tantalizing and doesn’t quite realize that they’ve completely failed to mention a character isn’t a human at all and indeed is a troll until page seventy-three. Oh, and there’s no climax to the novel either. Huh. How did that happen?

One consequence of an author failing to identify their main character is that failing to do so often leads to an unfocused story. POVs hop from character A to character B to character C to character D, and somehow we find ourselves at character M before finally circling back around to character A, whose story... I no longer quite remember—or care about, because character G was fascinating and I want to get back to them.

Another consequence is that POV oftentimes is distributed unevenly throughout the story. A concurrent issue I’ve noticed cropping up is the use of omniscient POV in these troubled manuscripts. While that’s a topic for another post, I will say that a lack of main character + omniscient POV = stories that are notoriously difficult to edit effectively because it’s one thick layer of confusion on top of another thick layer of confusion. Trying to determine what the authors want out of those stories requires a frankly outrageous amount of effort compared to a story with a single main character and a limited POV because the editor has to spend so much time and energy guessing what the author truly wants.

On top of that, I’m going to take a wild guess and say that most authors don’t want to tell an unfocused story. Sure, we might want to obscure some facts, might want to leave the occasional little mystery for the reader to enjoy puzzling out, but we want our writing to be understood. We want it to resonate. And it’s difficult for a story to resonate when half its notes are atonal and the other half are outright missing.

Step 1 is to identify who your main character is. Step 2 is to determine what characters are masquerading—temporarily or completely—as the main character. In the contemporary novel set in the school I mentioned above, there were at least eight initial contenders for the role of main character, all with their own unique stories and all with significant POV time, but only one character had any bearing on the climax, and it was a character who didn’t appear until almost a third of the way into the novel but got less POV time than several other characters. This doesn’t work.

This doesn’t work because the reader assumes, particularly in genre novels (excepting romance), that:

the first character we meet, and

the character whose POV opens the novel

is going to be the main character. This isn’t a hard-and-fast rule, and there are absolutely exceptions—such as The Great Gatsby, in which the MC and the narrator are two totally separate characters—but this post is about identifying MCs in particular. Narrator vs MC is a topic for another day.

(In conventional romance novels, the POV is split fifty-fifty between the two love interests. This post doesn’t really apply to conventional romance, but it’s still not a bad idea to check yourself once in a while to make sure you don’t have any characters who are trying to worm their way into being the MC when they shouldn’t be.)

Some of the problems I’ve encountered in the five projects I mentioned above include:

A POV that skitters from character to character, even to characters who have no arc or bearing on the overall plot whatsoever

An unfocused climax or a total lack of climax

Numerous subplots that never resolve and/or never have any bearing on the climax

Significantly lowered chances that the reader will bond with or care about any of the characters

Unsatisfying character arcs and/or plots

Plots that wander to places they never should have gone

Subplots of subplots that have nothing to do with the main character and/or climax at all

Painfully boring scenes that serve no purpose

The author bending the characters and plot to A Message rather than allowing either to exist naturally

The author not understanding what is truly important or interesting in their story

Stories that try to cram way too much information into a single book

The exclusion of details that are vital to understanding the overall story

Before throwing the unfinished book aside, the reader asking the two deadliest possible questions: So what? and Who cares?

That’s a rather terrible and terrifying list, isn’t it? All because each author never chose a single main character for their novel.

So I ask again: Who is your main character? Are they present from as close to the beginning of the story to as close to the end of the story as possible? Are they the most changed (or do they cause the most change around them) of all the characters in the story? Are there other characters around them who have plots or subplots that don’t tie into either the climax or the main character in any way? Is there another character who has more of an effect on the climax than your current labeled MC? More POV time or overall focus?

If you don’t have a main character to anchor your story around, the chances of it wandering, drifting away on every little eddying breeze that comes along, stumbling into dead ends and boring climaxes and unsatisfying character arcs grow with each added word. So challenge yourself to nail down a single main character. Wrap the entire plot around them, tight enough to choke them if you must. Get your facts straight; tie every detail back to them. You might find extraneous loose threads you can pluck out, be they characters or plot elements—but you might also find areas that are weak and need building up. You might even find both coexisting in the same story, because writing is sometimes just like that.

And once you know how to identify and use your main character, you can begin adding other elements to your story, elements that can create a bit of breathing room wherever necessary, all without the story losing its focus or meandering away from you into an area that leaves your reader—or editor—baffled at best, furious at worst.

 That said, of course it’s possible to have more than one MC, but with each MC you add to a single novel, the more work you’re creating for yourself, because each MC needs to have equal stakes in the climax and, preferably, an equal amount of attention throughout the story. Conventional romance, with its lack of a single MC, works because the climax hinges on the two characters who have received equal attention (via POV time and word count) up to that point. They both stand to win—and lose—the same thing, namely their mutual happy ending. Adding in a third main character is possible but tricky. Four? If you can do it, you’re a better plotter than me, friend, and I salute you.

A note: yes, subplots are a great way of adding extra characters or situations to a story that don’t necessarily run through the main plot. Ideally, though, most subplots should be resolved as close to the climax as possible to give the entire climax that added oomph. Again, there are exceptions, and it’s often a per-story situation, but a story can only handle so many notes being played before the sound of it gets muddy. Plot accordingly, and don’t lose sight of who the main character is.

Another note: yes, the MCU doesn’t have a single main character. Even some of the MCU films don’t have a single main character, particularly the Avengers flicks, and discussing how to handle a story that has multiple MCs is not really what I wanted to focus on today. Summarized, those stories are possible but tricky. Please notice the way very few of the MCU main characters get introduced in the big team-up films. Most of the characters get their own films or get introduced as side characters in those films so the audience has to do less work initially investing in them when there is more than one main character present.

[theouijagirl]

Hey Tumblr. It’s been a while.

It’s not you, it’s me. Lately I’ve had to shelve quite a few things in my life, and Tumblr wound up being one of them. I’m really sorry if any of you became extremely worried or distressed at my sudden absence. I didn’t intend to be gone for so long.  

I should start off by saying: I’m fine. The cat is fine, my house is fine, etc. Everything is okay; nothing is wrong. There’s nothing to worry about.

Honestly the only thing that has gone wrong lately has been the fact that a new virus evolved that is extremely deadly, and my government has decided that it would rather wish it would go away than try to do anything to stop it or prevent people from dying. My job was an indoor facility that mainly involves active play for families and manly profits from birthday parties, so obviously my building closed with no knowledge of when it would open. And toward the end of August, I got an email from my CEO saying that she decided she would not be reopening my building. 

At first I felt okay, because the worry and the wondering was over, and now it was a sense of excitement of a new chapter of my life starting, and wondering what new people I would meet at my new job. And truly, I have met some incredibly wonderful people at the places I work (two part-time jobs, so I can still be full time) and I feel more like I’m really becoming the professional person I want to be at my jobs. On the other hand, the sense of grief at losing my job that I’ve had for five years has really hit me hard during October. My coworkers really were some of my dearest friends, most of whom I haven’t seen since March. Some of them have had babies, and I don’t know when I can see them. We had Halloween traditions which involved Costco pizza and lots of candy, and it physically hurts to know it won’t happen this year and that last year was the last time and we didn’t even know it. It aches to know I’ll never again walk into my old office. It hurts to throw out my old employee shirts. It truly has felt like a death to me and I really have needed to take some time to process it.

But really, Good News Number 1 is that I am working full time again, which doesn’t allow me as much time on this blog. I was at my desk at my old job, in which I could totally go on Tumblr whenever I wanted, and there’s no way I can do that at my jobs now. Also, Good News Number 2 is that I have new health insurance and I have the best team of doctors I’ve ever had in my life, and they’ve put me on some incredible medications to manage my depression and migraines. For the first time in my life, I’m not depressed every day. We are still working on the migraines, but I don’t have a headache all day every day. However, I still have the fatigue from having chronic pain, and I’m dealing with some pretty severe side effects, so when I come home from my jobs I go to bed.

Good News Number 3 is that my ASMR YouTube channel has given me more joy than I have ever expected. I actually really delight in making a schedule, filming, editing, and posting, and of course checking and replying to comments. It feels incredibly rewarding. I’ve been meditating on why it feels so different from any other hobby I’ve had, and I’ve come to realize that all my other hobbies are basically “Put money into the thing to make yourself feel good.” So I’ve tried distancing myself from any of my hobbies that encourage spending, such as video games and Kpop. I haven’t watched anything on a paid streaming service. I’ve been limiting my time on Pokemon GO, only because their Halloween event right now is actually good, compared to other years, but I’m not doing any activity that is made easier by purchasing items. And everything just feels more freeing, like there’s suddenly a weight off my shoulders that I didn’t even know was there. I allow little things here and there, like I’ll listen to a new Kpop release when it comes out, but not stream it, and the new Sims pack looks amazing so I’ll have to play for a bit once it comes out (and the only game I’ve allowed myself is Among Us, but really only because of the social aspect). But just having my hobby be something I create that people around the world can relax and enjoy and learn from, since it’s an educational channel, feels so incredibly rewarding. It feels better than working on my Animal Crossing town, or learning a Kpop dance. It’s my favorite thing out of all the Good News.

And now there’s this Tumblr. I always do a big blog post project in October. I started it early in October. I kind of hated it. But I didn’t have any other big ideas for what to do. And I mostly felt uninspired for two reasons. 1) Even though I made a post asking people not to do this, a majority of my asks was still people asking my opinions on Shannen Doherty and Keke Palmer. For the record, I literally have no opinions on these women, so please stop asking. 2) Even though we really don’t want to admit it, Tumblr is dying. It’s nothing like it was before, and it’s easily not even in the top 5 social media sites these days. Like, what’s the point of doing a big series on a social media site that nobody uses? And this isn’t toward my solid fan base, but my solid fan base is like a couple hundred people. I used to get the “wow, I just found your blog!” Anon once a week, now I’m lucky if I get one every few months. Our community just isn’t using Tumblr like we used to. Now, it seems like TikTok is the way to go. And I just don’t want to use TikTok. I’m a writer. I just figured out how to use YouTube, and even then, I don’t like the TikTok format style of video. Like, it’s great, but it’s not the format that I feel creative with. So I just feel stuck. And it makes me not want to write on this blog, honestly.

Of course I’ll still answer questions, I always will. I don’t think I’ll ever quit this blog. And of course, if you send me an ask or message that is life or death, I’ll respond the second I see it. But I really don’t know what the future of this blog is going to be anymore.

As for the spooks, that’s never going away either. If you don’t feel that energy outside at night right now then are you even human. It’s tangible. Not to mention, when I was filming an ASMR video about spooky places and was talking about Salem, and mentioned the name of the first young girl to be hanged, I felt a cold hand run down my right hand and arm, and my room was very warm considering I close all the windows while filming and have a warm cat in my lap. 

Regardless, it’s gonna be a good Halloween.

[lucisfavoritedemon]

Almost There

Pairing: Tony Stark x C.I.A platonic!reader (Gender neutral)

Request: The reader is a real life federal agent, and is task to go into the mcu to bring tech out. The reader is given a teleporter, fake ID, money, and a pistol. The plan is to steal a truck full of Stark tech and be transported back. When the reader enters the MCU they wake up in an abandoned warehouse. They spent several months gathering information, practicing and discovering what'sx different inside the MCU. One day they put the plan into action everything goes to plan until the transporter is broken at the rendezvous point. (From the real world point) The reader is then captured by stark and interrogated about them not existing. The reader in the end stays quiet but before they're arrested the battle of N.Y happens and they escape wondering what to do.

Warnings: some cursing, cocky reader, being rude to Tony Stark (sorry to Tony lovers)

Word Count: 1663

A/N: This was requested by @iawaythrown. Thank you so much for the request. I hope you like it. I also tried to keep this as gender neutral as possible. I’m sorry if I did not. This is not Beta read, so all mistakes are mine.

Enjoy!

I had a mission. It was all planned out, all I had to do was follow instructions. Of course things here never seem to pan out the way you want, and of course I was seemingly suspicious. No wonder he caught me. No wonder I’m now trapped here. 

Okay, I’m getting way ahead of myself. I’m not from this universe, reality, or whatever you want to call it. I’m from a world where this character was just that, a character! Now I’m here with no plan, no mission, no escape, and no Stark Tech.

Yes, you heard me right, I was after some Stark Tech, but here I am being interrogated by Tony Stark himself. Now, for how I got to this point, that’s easy. I’m a CIA Agent, and given the almost impossible task of gathering as much Stark Tech as I possibly could in a truck, and bringing it back to my world. Most likely to be used, or improved, to be given to the people in my time. You know, to speed up the process of technological advancement.

I never asked questions though, that wasn’t my place. All I know is that I had to come here with the transporter, gather as much Stark Tech, as discreetly as possible, and meet at the rendezvous point before anyone found out what I was doing.

Alright, enough of me summarizing what happened, and didn’t happen. Allow me to enlighten you a bit. I’ll spare you the details of the full mission brief, not very brief if you ask me, and get down to my adventures here in the MCU.

“You ready for this?” One of my coworkers asked, helping me prepare for my journey.

“I’m so excited. I have studied every single person I will be getting to know in this world. I spent hundreds of dollars, and did lots of bargaining to get every last copy of the comics for the 6 members of the Avengers. As well as all the Avengers comics.”

“You’ve worked hard for this mission. You seem more dedicated than usual.” They spoke, handing me my bag and wallet with fake ID and money.

We walked over to the transporter where everyone else was waiting. I was given one last bit of information on how to get out before I was told where to stand.

“Just a warning, you may feel a bit nauseous, or you might pass out on entry. Just find Stark and the others as soon as you can. We cannot waste any time.”

“Yes sir.” My commanding officer then starts up the transporter, and I’m sent away in a flash of white light.

When I awoke I was in a warehouse. I got up quickly, and walked outside. I had studied every map of New York City I could find. I knew how to get to Stark Tower from every possible place I could land. I started to make my way to the tower. 

My disguise was his new secretary, and I honestly thought that was a genius idea. When I got to Stark Tower, I was greeted by the doorman asking me for my identification. I gladly obliged and he allowed me inside, showing me to Tony Stark’s office.

“You are my new secretary?” He asked, laying eyes on me. He didn’t seem too impressed with me, but that didn’t matter.

“I am. If you have a problem with that, then I will see myself out. Just so you know though, you won’t find anyone better than me.”

“I see your people skills are lacking, but your persuasiveness is impressive.” He smirked, and showed me around.

I was in! This was my chance to get as close to him as possible without him realising why I was actually there. Tony started with his part of the tower. He said that it would be mostly off limits unless I truly needed him. 

The next part was my favorite. He was showing me where he came up with all his inventions, and that’s where I made my first grab. Of course he had to be something small that he would barely notice was gone, and a discarded prototype, which he showed me plenty.

This went on for about a month. I would always end up finding him in the lab, purposely of course. As he would leave, I would sneak a piece of tech. As time went on I gathered bigger and better tech and loaded them into a U-Haul truck that I rented to take back to my world. 

I only hoped that no one had caught on to what I was doing, but I didn’t think so. The day finally came, and I had to tell Tony I had to part ways with him. He seemed to really enjoy the work I was doing for him, but I guess I would just have to live with that I guess.

“Hey there is my favorite secretary.” He grinned, chuckling some

“I’m currently your only secretary.” I said, not very amused.

His grin faded, and he cleared his throat, “anyway, I want to show you something. My latest invention.”

My curiosity peaked, and I had almost forgotten what I came down to the lab for, “latest invention?”

“Yep, granted the project had been set back. For some reason I kept misplacing some of the tech needed to complete it.”

“You misplace things? That’s shocking to me.”

“I don’t usually, but for some reason more recently my mind has been clouded.”

“I wonder why?” I asked, being genuine. I may be stealing him, and making him think he’s losing it, but I’m not heartless.

Tony just chuckles, and brushes off the question. He always liked to share as long as there was a little pity to him, then he would move on. It annoyed me a little, but at the same time, I was used to it.

Tony led me to where his new invention was. He did warn it may not intrigue me, for it was more of an upgrade for his Iron Man suit. When he showed me, I was absolutely amazed. There would be no way that I could sneak this new piece of tech, but you bet I was going to try.

“Tony, I have something I have to tell you, and you probably won’t like it.”

“I knew it! All of my tech started disappearing after you showed up!” He jumped to conclusions.

“Uh, I was going to say I have to leave. My mother has fallen ill, and I am the last close family member to care for her. So, today will be my last day.” I spoke, looking confused at his accusation.

“Oh, I’m so sorry to hear that. What is she sick with, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“She is in severe kidney and liver failure due to her heavy alcoholism after my father left her.” I said too casually, but he did not question me.

“So, where ya headed?”

“Maine. Specifically Augusta, Maine.”

“I see. It will be hard to see you go, but I understand how important family is. Before you go, come up to the penthouse, so I can give you a proper goodbye.” With that, Tony walked upstairs leaving me alone.

I knew him leaving me in the lab alone was a test. He was obviously on to me, and as much as I wanted to steal that new piece of tech, I had to leave it be, but I now had a lot of the tech to recreate it myself.

I of course did not want to say goodbye to Tony properly. He was just a pawn in a bigger game. I knew that I wasn’t playing a better, or bigger role, but more important than him. I made my way outside, and back to the abandoned warehouse where I kept the U-Haul truck. 

I climbed in and headed to the rendezvous point. I was of course nervous about everything going wrong now that I was so close to getting back home. I made it to my point, and it was almost time to head back. Though, when it was time to head back, something went wrong. I couldn’t get the transporter to work.

That’s when I heard a car heading my way. I couldn’t help but begin to panic, and I kept hitting the transporter button. That’s when I heard the car stop a few feet behind me. The car door opened then closed, but I dare not turn around.

“This is the opposite direction of Maine, sweetheart.” Of course, this was just my luck.

“Yeah. I realise that.” I was extremely frustrated at this point.

“Open the truck.”

“Absolutely not! You do not have the authority to search my things.”

“I could get the proper authorities involved.”

I glare at him. I was not going to be threatened like this, but I could not use my authority here in this world. I technically didn’t exist. Not to mention I would blow my entire cover and mission.

“Or you could come with me, and explain what you’re doing with a truckload of my tech.”

I had no choice but to follow him. I had to remain as innocent as I could until he had enough evidence to prove I’m not.

Now you are all caught up to now. Nothing else has happened since then. Tony has since left me alone, and hasn’t returned. I think I hear something happening outside. This may be the only chance I would have to run. You bet I will be making a break for it. If I no longer update on my story, assume I made it back home, or I haven’t been captured by Stark and his posse of weirdos. 

That’s it for now. Thanks for listening to my weird story. Just make sure to burn this once you have finished. Unless you’re Tony Stark, then you can suck it. Y/n out.

[echo-bleu]

Cactuses

A really cracky soulmate AU that is entirely @mansikkaomenabanaani’s fault.

Isobel observed him from behind a large potted plant in the hospital lobby. She had spotted him from the corner of her eye in store parking lot next door, and she couldn't help but follow him all the way here. He was making it easy for her, walking slowly, leaning heavily on two crutches.

She hid behind various pieces of furniture, more or less successfully, until he disappeared behind a door marked Physical Therapy. He seemed to sense that he was followed, but he spotted her only once, and she immediately turned away and pretended to be doing something else, so she was fairly sure he didn't suspect her.

She needed to know who he was.

Not because he was hot. She had no idea if he was, truly. Humans were a mystery to her in that sense. Ever since she'd made it to Earth, she tried to figure out the strange ways of human courtship, but they eluded her completely.

No, physically, he was vaguely human shaped, enough that he wouldn’t easily be confused with a dolphin, and that was enough. His soul, however, very clearly looked like a cactus, with spikes going in every direction, forbidding anyone from approaching.

Exactly like someone else she knew.

What to do? She couldn't exactly barge into his physical therapy to ask his name. Even she knew that was impolite. Instead, she settled in to wait for him to come back out. She sat down on a bench facing the right corridor and crossed her legs princely, like she'd seen human females do when they wanted to look unbothered by their surroundings.

She tapped her comlink until it beeped. “Michael!”

“What, Izzy?” her brother grumbled, sounding like he'd just woken up. He was in orbit, working on repairing their spaceship. They would have been gone days ago if their ship hadn't suddenly decided to blow a fuse in the middle of nowhere and this stupid planet had the replacement material they needed. They weren't even supposed to land on Earth at all, they were on their way back to Antar and it just happened to be the closest livable planet at the time.

It was just so backward. The people here, for some reason, thought they were better than any other species, including the other semi-sentient beings on their own planets, and snubbed or downright hated aliens. The planet had almost self-destructed at first contact, when Antar had done them the civility of fixing their climate issue and they had responded by declaring war on any and all alien life.

It was better now, several decades in, but visible aliens still got the side-eye anywhere they went. Thankfully, Isobel knew how to disguise herself.

“I found him!” she said excitedly.

“Who?”

“Your soulmate!”

She could hear Michael roll his eyes from here. “Izzy, I told you, I don't care about my soulmate. I don't have a soulmate.”

“Everyone has a soulmate! And I've just found yours.”

Michael sighed. “Izzy, where are you? Do I need to tell Max to pick you up?”

“No!” Isobel said a little to loudly−several head turned toward her. Pity the telepathic connection had a distance constraint. “I'm fine. I'm gonna find out who he is.”

“He? Izzy, are you stalking him?”

“Only a little! Until I know his name. You'll thank me later.”

“I most certainly will not,” Michael huffed.

“Whatever,” Isobel ended the call.

She waited for what felt like a long time, staring at the corridor so she wouldn't miss him. Humans came to ask her twice if she needed something, but she just nudged them telepathically and they forgot about her.

Finally, the human-shaped cactus came out. He was just as slow and careful as before, and Isobel narrowed her eyes to see his physical shape better. Ha. His right leg was missing and he had a prosthesis, not even a good one. They could get him a better one on Antar. The soul-scars, which took longer to scab over than the skin-scars, were still fresh, raw. He'd lost people. He'd had a hard life. Spikes, for every blow he took, every demeaning comment, every time someone who should have loved him abandoned him. He had many.

“Hi,” Isobel said with a smile, coming up to him.

The human laid his eyes on her, and they widened in surprise. Of course. Her eyes never quite looked human. Isobel nudged him, and encountered resistance.

A human who could protect his own mind? She had to see that.

She knocked. He let her in. Well, not in, but in an anteroom of some kind. She couldn't go any further.

“It's not very polite to try to barge in,” she heard behind her. She turned to find his mental projection looming over her. “Who are you?”

“I'm Isobel,” Isobel answered in his language. “Antarian. And your…what do you call it, sister-in-law. Soon.”

“What?” he frowned.

“You're my brother's soulmate.”

He gave her a disbelieving look. “Humans don't have soulmates,” he said. “And I don't know your brother. Or do I?”

“Not yet,” Isobel said. “And humans can be other species' soulmates. It's rare, but it happens.”

“Okay,” the human said, though she could sense that he didn't believe her. “Why are you in my mind?”

“Because I need to make sure you're the right person for him,” Isobel answered.

“If I'm his soulmate, aren't we already connected? Does it matter if we're right for each other?”

“It matters to me,” Isobel shrugged. “Michael deserves someone good.”

“What will you do if I'm not?”

“My soulmate was bad. He...died.”

He raised an eyebrow. “And if I'm good?”

“Then you're coming with me back to our ship, and then to our planet,” Isobel answered.

“Oh, is that right?”

“Yes.”

“What if I have things to do here? I have a life, you know. I can't just slip off without notice, let alone move to another planet.”

Isobel huffed, frustrated. “My brother is your soulmate. What could be more important than that?”

“Um, learning to walk again?” he offered.

“We can arrange that”, Isobel said, without missing a beat. “You don't need to be on Earth for that.”

“My job, then? I'm in the Air Force, I can't just go AWOL.”

“I assume that means go missing? We can also arrange that. There is an interplanetary treaty on soul-bounds. And if you're a soldier, we can easily find you a job on Antar. A better one than you have here, most likely.”

“My friends?”

“No family?” Isobel asked.

“None that would miss me,” he answered, a shadow coming over his face. So that was where some of the spikes were from, then.

“Then it will be easier,” Isobel said. “Your friends can come with, if you want them to. Or they can visit when you're settled. It's a bit of a journey, but it can be done. I'm told Antar is a good vacation spot. Beautiful views.”

The human laughed. “Not that I'm not enjoying this fantasy, but aren't we getting a little ahead of ourselves?”

“You're right,” Isobel nodded. “I don't even know your name.”

“Alex. And you should let me sit down, or I'm probably going to fall over.”

Isobel snapped out of his mind, and she found his aura wavering and darkening with pain. “I'm sorry, Alex,” she said sheepishly, working her mouth around his name.

Alex shakily took the few steps that separated him from the bench Isobel was sitting on earlier and dropped onto it. “Shit,” he muttered through gritted teeth, taking a pill bottle out of his pocket and swallowing two tablets.

“Are you okay?”

“I will be. PT is a bitch.”

“Did you lose your leg in the war?” Isobel asked, mostly from curiosity. She had no idea what stupid internal war was going on between humans, and she didn't particularly care, but she cared about this human. He was hers to care about now.

“Yes. Three months ago. Drove onto a bomb.”

Humans were barbarians, Isobel thought. There were so many much more efficient ways to kill people. She's been particularly creative, with Noah, manipulating lightning with Max. He'd deserved it.

“You deserve better than this shitty planet,” she said without thinking.

Damn, how did she get from stalking him because he was Michael's soulmate to actually caring about him in so little time?

There was something about his soul. The dangerous cactus had a softness too. Between the spikes was soft, fluffy tissue, pulsing with light. Oh, he and Michael would be like velcro together.

Alex's aura turned purple suddenly. “I don't deserve anything,” he murmured.

Isobel frowned. “You really have nothing for you here, do you? Nothing that ties you to this place.”

Alex shook his head miserably.

“Then you definitely deserve better,” Isobel said. “Michael has been through a lot, too. You'll fit together.”

“But why me? Why would I be his soulmate?”

Isobel shrugged. “Soulmates don't have a reason. They just are. Do you like males?”

“If you mean men, then yes.”

“I don't discriminate species,” Isobel huffed. “Do you think aliens are inferior?”

“No,” Alex said firmly. “Despite what you've been led to believed, all humans don't think that way. Only the ones in power.”

“Perfect. Then you're coming with me. I need to introduce you to my brother.”

[chocoluckchipz]

The Other You - 3

Read it on A03, FF.net, WattPad

< Previous

Marinette groaned loudly as a ray of light caught her eye, disturbing her sleep. She stirred lazily, slowly regaining awareness of her surroundings. Her neck was stiff from the odd position she had fallen asleep in, and she couldn’t feel her left arm after having laid her head on it all night. Eyes bleary, she groggily looked around her and barely muffled a defeated sigh upon realizing her current whereabouts.

She had fallen asleep in her office.

Again.

The night before, when she had left Chat Noir on the Eiffel Tower, she had fully intended to follow his sound advice. Heading home was definitely the sensible thing to do, considering Alya was more than likely already pissed at her for having ignored her calls all day. No use adding fuel to the fire.

But as she was swinging her yoyo from building to building, images of her cluttered office flashed before her eyes. Her desk, buried under bolts of fabric and spools of thread, the unfinished dress hanging from the mannequin, and the pile of designs waiting to be sorted and put into production.

She had worked herself to the bone for months for that first women’s line, had suffered through so many sleepless nights, had stood up to her boss so many times… This project truly was her baby, her greatest achievement yet, and she wanted everything to be as she and Gabriel had envisioned it.

So, convinced she could squeeze in a few more hours of stitching before Alya would notice her absence, she had changed directions mid-jump and headed straight back to her office. Detransforming in an alley across the street, she had let herself into the building, bid goodnight to the security guard, and snuck back into her office like she had done countless times before. She turned on all the lights in her office, took out the designs Gabriel had approved just before passing away, and got to work.

She had cut, pinned, and sewn for the better part of the night, losing herself in the passion that had become all work and no play. Exhaustion quickly caught up with her, and after pricking her fingers a few times with the needle, her head steadily began to drop, and she lost track of time.

Soon enough, the weight of reality crashed back on her, and the next thing Marinette knew, she was waking up amongst her mess, groggy and disoriented.

Her cellphone chimed on her desk, and she reached for it to check the time. Maybe, just maybe, if Tikki’s luck was still on her side, she would be able to sneak back into the apartment without waking Nino or Alya up.

As soon as the little digital screen lit up, however, Marinette instantly knew that she was utterly and perfectly screwed. Any hopes of a stealthy return home were crushed by the heavy amount of missed calls and text messages overflowing her phone.

Just her luck.

Scrolling through the messages thread, she cringed, her heart jumping into her throat. Of course there were the usual inquiries about her current whereabouts, the expected question about whether or not to save dinner for her. But where the usual follow-through was “Are you coming home at all tonight?” she instead received, “Guess I’ll have to buy my wedding dress off-the-rack.”

Her heart broke reading those words.

Panic rose in Marinette’s chest, and she blindly reached for her planner, refusing to believe the implications of said message. She almost tore the book open, finding the right page with shaky fingers. It just couldn’t have happened. Alya had to be mistaken, there had to be a huge and horrible misunderstanding.

That was the only explanation she could see. There was no way she could have forgotten that.

And yet, hastily scribbled in her own handwriting on the previous day’s page, was definite proof that she had committed an unforgivable crime against her relationship with her best friend.

9 p.m.: Design wedding dress with Alya !!! <3

Her defeated whine resonated loudly in her empty office. “Tikki! Why didn’t you remind me?”

The little kwami lifted an unimpressed gaze toward her charge. “I did, Marinette. Several times. You ignored or dismissed me every time, like you usually do when you’re working. In the end, I gave up.”

Marinette groaned, not bothering to answer the bitter jab. It was already bad enough that she had to pencil her best friend in her planner for something as important as her wedding, but she had managed to forget about it altogether. The uncanny absence of any other message after the mention of the dress was telling volumes.

Alya was not pissed.

She was utterly and completely furious with her.

Breath short, heart pounding in her ears, Marinette put away the mess of fabric on her desk as quickly as she could, not bothering to fold them correctly. She would probably curse her lack of foresight later, when she’d resume working and find herself dealing with a bunch of wrinkled and mixed up fabric, but for the time being she couldn’t bring herself to care about anything other than the friendship she had probably just destroyed.

Going home by traditional means was going to take too much time considering her jittery nerves. So, ignoring Tikki’s disapproving glare, Marinette quickly transformed and let herself out through her office window. She’d have a hard time explaining why her security badge’s log would show an “in” but no “out” if anyone was to look at her file, but that was a problem she’d have to deal with later.

For now, she just wanted to salvage what little was left of her bond with Alya.

Part of her wanted to just crawl in through her bedroom window and pretend to have been asleep the entire time, but the rational part of her brain knew Alya would never be fooled by such a weak excuse. After all, it wasn’t exactly past the blogger to have spent the night in her bed only to make sure she wouldn’t risk missing her arrival.

Reluctantly, Marinette instead settled on hiding in an empty alley to detransform and walked to the building entrance like a convict heading to their death sentence. Feet heavy with dread, she headed for the elevator, the silence only disrupted by the pounding of her heart in her chest.

When the doors opened on their floor, her breath hitched in her throat. This was it. No going back now. She messed up, and she had to face the music.

Her keys jingled loudly when she pulled them out of her purse, and the rattle of the metal when she slid the right one in the keyhole made her gasp inwardly. Marinette pushed the door open slowly, bracing herself for her impending doom.

Sure enough, Alya was sitting at the kitchen table, her arms crossed in front of her chest. Her expression as her eyes landed on her friend standing awkwardly in the doorway was unreadable. Marinette twitched uncomfortably, feeling bare and vulnerable under the piercing gaze.

Gulping painfully, she hung her purse on a hook and took a few careful steps into the apartment, trying to assess the situation. She made it about three feet in before Alya’s voice, dripping with venom, stopped her dead in her tracks. “How kind of you to finally let me know you’re still alive.”

Marinette blanched, startled by the anger behind her friend’s words. “I’m sorry, Alya, I—”

“Don’t,” Alya interrupted her, holding a hand up. “I’m sick and tired of your lies and your excuses, Marinette. I can’t sit around and pretend I’m fine with you wasting your life away like that anymore.”

Deep inside, Marinette knew that it was the anger talking, and that Alya didn’t really mean to be this harsh. But she’d had a long day. She’d spent the night in an office chair and she was still feeling shaken from her encounter with Adrien. Her patience had already been wearing thin, and despite her best intentions and how much she cared about Alya and wanted to mend their weakened friendship, she couldn’t help but snap.

“Oh, because you patronizing me basically every single time I set foot in the apartment is your way of pretending you care about me? Could’ve fooled me.”

Alya’s eyes widened, and her expression shifted to something darker, sadder. She stood up, her arms still crossed in front of her in a defensive manner. “You know, I’m starting to think that maybe Adrien had it right after all.”

“Don’t you dare bring him into this. Adrien Agreste is nothing but a selfish, manipulative jerk,” Marinette snarled through clenched teeth.

“Who tried to warn us that working for his father would change you.”

Marinette backed up a few steps, looking every bit like Alya had just slapped her across the face. How dare she suggest that what Adrien had done back then was anything less than pure treason?

Swallowing the painful lump in her throat, she spat as angrily as she could, “Okay, so you’re going to pick the awful human being who didn’t even bother showing up at his own father’ s funeral over your best friend now?”

“No. I love my best friend to pieces, Marinette, but she isn’t you,” Alya answered, her fists clenched by her side. “Not anymore. She’s the kind, sweet girl that I met in middle school. The woman standing in front of me right now is nothing more than a stranger to me.”

Hurt and confusion choked Marinette, who bit back an angry sob. Her life was unravelling under her fingers, and she felt powerless. “Then why don’t you ask Adrien to be your bridesmaid while you’re at it?”

A shadow crossed Alya’s face. “You know what? Maybe I will! That way maybe my bridesmaid will actually show up!”

“Is that so?  Well, in that case, count me out!”

“GLADLY,” Alya yelled, fists clenched tight.

At first, Marinette couldn’t even answer. Words were stuck in her throat, the air was heavy, unbreathable. She knew that feeling all too well, it was the same feeling that had overcome her upon realizing Adrien was so disgusted by her confession and wanted so little to do with her that he had hidden her internship application from his father.

She was clearly unwanted.

Anger bubbled up in her chest, the rejection stinging badly. “You-you want me out of your wedding ?”

“Mari, I’m sorry. I—”

Marinette shook her head, crossing the apartment in long, harsh strides. She rushed past Alya and headed straight for the front door. “It’s pretty clear that I’m no longer wanted here,” she spat angrily, trying to ignore the tears pooling in her eyes. “I’ll be out of your hair in no time, don’t worry.”

“Mari, wait—”

"I'll send someone for my stuff later. You know, someone who won't nag me constantly and who doesn't believe Adrien isn't the biggest asshole on the planet." Grabbing her purse from the hook, she slammed the door shut behind her, ignoring her friend’s pleas.

Marinette made it back to Gabriel ’s headquarters in a dazed state with about an hour to spare before office hours, still shaken by the entire encounter. She let herself into her office through the same window she had used to exit, briefly noting that her security log wouldn’t be a problem after all. Throwing her purse in a corner of the room, she let her transformation fall and absentmindedly offered a cookie to a worried Tikki.

“Are you okay, Marinette?” came the soft voice of her littlest friend.

“I don’t know, Tikki. I…” Marinette swallowed painfully, refusing to meet her gaze. “How dare she say Adrien had been right? He selfishly tried to sabotage my career, and—”

“She’s right, though.”

The words hurt more than Marinette wanted to admit. Eyes widening, she whispered, “W-What?”

“You did change, Marinette,” Tikki said softly. “It’s up to you to figure out if it was worth it or not.”

As she slumped in her chair, landing an unimpressed gaze on the ambient clutter, Marinette suddenly felt overwhelmed by recent events. Her boss was dead. His son, whom she despised above anything else, was back in her life despite her wishes. She and her best friend were barely even on speaking terms anymore.

Emotions bubbled up in her chest and tears spilled on her cheeks, unbidden. This was not how she had envisioned her career going, much less her personal life. But she was too far gone; she had accomplished too much to back out now. If only she could salvage the line she had been working on with Gabriel, she would make a name for herself. Then maybe, just maybe, land herself a position that would actually allow her to have a life and an apartment of her own.

Gabriel had had projects for her. The upcoming women’s line had been meant as a test, an introduction of some sort into the management of an entire line. If she did well, he had promised to let her take care of the feminine branch of Gabriel on her own.

Now though, with Adrien behind the wheel of the company, her future within its walls was less than assured. It was no secret the young man loathed everything related to fashion and the Agreste name. Not a really good combo when you’re aspiring to a stellar career as a fashion designer in Gabriel Agreste’s empire.

She threw her frustration into her work, furiously sewing, cutting, and drawing the day away, barely stopping for fifteen minutes to eat a sandwich from a vending machine in the early evening. She worked until her bleary eyes couldn’t focus on her fingers anymore, until her brain refused to make the stitches remotely even.

With a loud sigh, she pushed the skirt she had been working on away and waited warily for the flow of worries and memories to come back to nag her. Shoulders hunched in defeat, she rested her head on her folded arms. This wouldn’t be the first night she’d spend in the office, and probably far from the last. As long as she didn’t figure things out, she would be stuck sleeping there, so she might as well get used to it.

Her sleep that night was restless, not bringing any soothing to her troubled mind.

Still exhausted, her patience long gone, she had half a mind to bite off the head of the rude human being who saw fit to wake her up at five a.m., unceremoniously barging into her office. The icing to the cake, though, was half-jumping out of her skin only to meet the worried gaze of none other than Adrien Agreste.

“Marinette!?”

Next >

[blackfemmecharacterdependency]

19. What They Deserve

5336 Words, No triggers detected.

Previous

People loved to hear about the trials and tribulations of others. That was the core of half of the entertainment sites. Grace didn’t like to put her hurt on display, but she did want to reintroduce herself, or rather, debut the new Grace to the world and she realized that would entail people bringing up her past and/or intruding on her private life. 

For instance, people would ask her how her relationship with her parents is…

Grace’s first day out, her mother was in the car whenever she got in. They were driven, in silence back to the estate, where guards were posted for the occasion, in case someone noticed or tried to get in, as they sometimes did. Her room was still the same, but there was someone there to help her pack up her essentials and her pleasures. She was going to be moved to a secure location that people didn’t know about, because her parents didn’t want the family house to be any more of a sideshow that it had been following her institutionalization. 

Her mother still had not said anything to her and it took hours for her to go through her personals and decide what she couldn’t live without and see the things that she could live without go into a donations box or a trash bin. “Where are all of my pictures of me and Simon?” she asked, when she opened the designated box for those.

“Surely, you’re joking,” was the first thing her mother said. She tossed the box into the donations. Her father didn’t even show up during this time frame. By the time she was moved into her new home, she had only gotten one word from her mother and none from her father. So, whenever someone asked about them, she would say, “How is everybody’s relationship with their parents? It’s personal. It’s a relationship between one and one or two more people, and their dynamic and their emotions are fluid. The three of us have very different wavelengths and concerns, so my relationship with them is something between me and them and then, my relationship with you all is what’s between me and you.” She’d laugh a little, but after a few times, people got the message. 

People would ask her about her mental health - if she was better, what happened in the first place, does she think it could happen again, etc.

Hazel wound up in another facility after a few months with her new foster family (mere weeks before Grace was released). The charm bracelet was sent back to her and for several days, she didn’t know what that meant for Hazel. If she was okay, if she was hurt or worse. They had only told her that they thought that she should have it back, then failed to communicate anything else about Hazel, for legal purposes. Grace was in shambles, until FINALLY she was told that Hazel was fine, but she had a relapse and was “in turtle form” for several days, making them have to take her to a doctor and seeing her file, they committed her for 72 hours. She was fine and heading back home. 

When Grace got out and looked her up, she was no longer at the same home. She had been redirected elsewhere… They couldn’t give Grace that information at the time. She thought she would lose her mind trying to contact someone who would be willing to help her out with this information, but most of them informed her that such information was secure for the safety of the child, and she understood it and couldn’t argue with it or convince them that she was more concerned for the safety of this child than anyone. It remained at the forefront of her thoughts. 

“I went somewhere to get help. I got help. A lot of people just get bounced around in life and never truly get the help that they need or deserve. I’ve been very fortunate, so I try to focus on that. Some days, I succeed. Some days, I do not succeed. I feel good today.”

They would ask her about new music, what beauty products she used now that she was no longer associated with her old brands, and if she would be dancing again. All things that she still wasn’t completely certain of yet, but lighthearted enough that she didn’t get too stressed out about that line of questioning.

The questions that brought her the most visible displeasure and clear distress were the ones about Simon. What about your relationship with Simon Laurent? Nobody has heard your side of the story. Have you seen or talked to Simon? Are things well between you? Has he forgiven you?…

“I don’t speak about Simon. The most that I can tell you is that I hope he has what he needs and gets everything that he deserves.” They might try to make jokes to prod about what she thinks he deserves, but she generally redirected the conversation. “He deserves what he deserves, and that’s what I hope he gets.” She would smile and nod, but her eyes would be sad. Eventually, people stopped asking her about him. She began posting dance videos, remixes, and songs again. This time, being confident in herself and away from her parents. It was no longer an escape from her life, because her life was lonely, but she was happy with it. There was freedom in her world that she hadn’t imagined in the past. She had more followers than ever before. Some people still called her Apex, but she never put that into any of her bios or captions, herself. 

She had a routine that worked for her wellbeing, from the time that she spent in the center, and she still had very regular sessions with her therapist, not to mention a medication regimen that assisted in her wellness. 

Anyone who wanted to contact her did so through someone else who would be the go-between, just in case. She moved out of the house that her parents placed her in and found something more suitable for her style, and closer to Julliard, because she still wanted to try to go, if she could make it in. In the meantime, she enjoyed the music scene in New York, branched out to finding new artists that she hadn’t heard of, made a few new friends in the industry, got hired for music videos and song demos. Some days, she expected to wake up and discover that her life had all been a dream. She would wonder if she actually did spend over a year in a mental facility, if she had gotten into some trouble with Simon, if she ever actually had met Simon… He seemed so far away, so long ago and so unfamiliar sometimes. But, whenever he did come back to her, he came flooding back.

Like if somebody casually asked, “You got kids?” and she remembered that while the answer was no, she had gotten pregnant at 16 and was so stressed out, that she hadn’t noticed for several weeks that her body was behaving differently, and that she spent several more trying to figure out what she would say, what she would do, how she would handle this. “No, no kids. But, I did have to make a decision to terminate a pregnancy when I was younger.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. There’s a stigma about it, but it was something that was best for me and I don’t harbor anger or disgust with myself about it.” Then, she could remember Simon’s eyes, his hands, other parts of him, the way that he held her, the things he had said to her. She would have to try not to cry and if she did, be totally honest, “Sorry. I haven’t really thought about the guy in a while, and I’m just in my feelings, Don’t mind me.” She didn’t like to lie, if she could help it. She tried to be as honest as she could these days, without saying too much. But, she had a pretty good crew in NY. They always were understanding and if someone said something, they’d gather them up pretty quickly. Her therapist told her that friends do things like that. It made her feel bad. She thought that friends shared everything, and since she was still very closed off to these people, she didn’t really consider them to be friends of hers, just associates that she really liked.

“That can be considered friendship, too. You don’t have to tell every friend that you have your life story and every person who you share mutual connection and kindness with isn’t going to be your lifetime bestie. Just enjoy the company of people who make you feel good and let the people who you make feel good enjoy your company.” That’s what she did. 

She got into Julliard when she was 20 and she was pretty known in the music scene by the time she was 21. Grateful that she had been able to finish high school in the institution and happy that she hadn’t gotten so comfortable that she was afraid to get better and leave there. Because, she was living a life that she had always wanted, and whether or not she deserved to, she told herself that she did and she was sure to enjoy it. 

.

That bitch was trying to ruin him! Simon could hardly catch his breath as he paced outside of the hearing for his academic integrity. She’s just mad that you’ve done BETTER than she has, with her work!

It was one thing when she was taking her bitterness out on you, telling you that your weapon failed to meet the requirements of the assignment, even though it was theoretically FLAWLESS. The CIA spoke with you about your plans for this weapon! But her? She told you to stick to something that your “childlike little mind” could actually comprehend the endgame of. “How about your little robot figures?” she’d taunted. 

Other students had laughed. LAUGHED! His project was miles ahead of everyone in that class, and her tone was disrespectful and condescending! “I haven’t had a childlike thought in my mind since I was 10, you old bitch!” It just stumbled from his lips. She frowned at him and demanded an apology to her and to the rest of the class. He snatched his presentation supplies and stormed off. He’d be damned if he apologized for her antagonizing him! He heard a few more laughs and he knocked the items off of her podium on his way out. He knew that couldn’t work out well… at least in hindsight, he did. In the moment, all he knew was rage.

He even sent her an email apologizing to her and the class and offering to replace anything that he damaged in his outburst. She had only replied to him not to return to her class until further notice. But… he needed her class. It would throw off his entire educational trajectory not to be able to come to her class! Even for a few days!! He was almost ready to grovel. Almost. That would be too much like showing weakness. He apologized, what more could she want.

So, Simon filed a complaint on her, accusing her of being combative, rude, and making her classes toxic environments. Now, the Committee on Discipline was meeting to look over all of the details of her complaint. 

“I truly wanted to give young Mr. Laurent a moment to think about his actions in the classroom and to realize the err of his ways. His complaint against me during this time, being both unfounded and untrue, caused me to have to rethink my decision. I don’t think that Simon Laurent is capable of the behavioral status that we require of students here. I don’t think that he has the temperance for all of the criticisms his flights of fancy are sure to get over the course of his career. I gave him the option to try another avenue for the assignment, as his assignment, while a very significant project did. Not. meet. The. requirements. Of. the. Assignment. He needed to be able to give us a small demonstration. His project was a weapon. He could only grant me a simulation and that is not what I asked for. Telling him this incited him to rage in which he disrespected myself and his peers, disrupting the classroom with his antics. Like a child, throwing a tantrum.” 

Even then, his face was looking like all he wanted was to murder her right then and there. When the committee allowed him to speak, he changed his tune. He was calm and even voiced. “Professor Hughes made a lot of points about me and my particular struggles when it comes to being disregarded. I did respond angrily and I know that it was wrong of me to react the way that I did. That’s why I sent her an apology after I had the chance to cool down. But, she didn’t decide to turn me into the committee until after I filed a complaint on her for even bringing me to the point that I had such a meltdown in her classroom in the first place!” Amelia frowned and members of the committee shared various facial expressions.

Simon looked directly at her and said, “I’ve been a long time fan of your work and your accomplishments. I specifically fought to be in your classroom because of the way that I regard everything that you’ve done throughout your career and I just wanted the privilege to be able to learn from you. But, you’re very unkind. You make people feel bad. You don’t think about the things that you say to people and how those things might affect them. You didn’t even care about my psychological makeup until you could use it against me in these proceedings. You humiliate people in front of others and you don’t even break a sweat.”

“This is not my hearing, Mr. Laurent.”

“But, it matters to this hearing, because I never would have reacted that way if you weren’t being so abrasive.”

“That is a word that men like to use against me whenever I meet them with the very same energy that they put out. I’ve been called worse. By professors, colleagues, and for over 30 years my own psychological settings came into play whenever a discussion was to be had about me. This isn’t about your mental disposition. It’s about your behavior. Your angry and hostile behavior at any old sign of criticism!”

“Professor Hughes,” one of the committee members said. She went silent.

Simon proceeded, “I know that I’m not good at handling criticism, especially coming from a woman. My mother was… difficult to communicate with and the only other woman I was close to…” His eyes grew damp. “I’m sorry. My education means a lot to me and I’ll do anything to stay here.” He rushed out of the chambers, covering his face as he did. Amelia pulled herself up to go check on him. He was in the waiting section, in a seat in the corner with his back to the wall, still covering his crying face. She took a deep breath, grabbed a seat and sat next to him.

“There’s not a person in that room who isn’t familiar with the hardships you had to face in order to get here. We know about your family. We know about your abuse.” He wiped his face and glared at nothing in particular. “We also know how smart you are. You were able to get into this school based upon your intelligence. Nobody is doubting that you are capable of doing great work. I wasn’t even implying that I hated your work that day. But, it wasn’t the proper assignment, Simon. I needed you to give me one thing, you not only gave me another, but you refused to even consider that what you were trying to give me was impossible to meet my requirements. Then, you got angry because you had refused to listen to me in the first place. Now, I admit… I’m not the most courteous member of staff at this institute. I can be…”

“Bitchy.”

“Unapologetic.” She chuckled. “Let me tell you, I know how it is to be in a room full of people who underestimate you and make you feel like you shouldn’t be in the room. There wasn’t much respect for female engineers in my day and there’s not a proper amount even now if you ask me. Half of this staff is composed of pretentious, pompous, puffed up paragons, and it takes next to nothing for anybody outside of their ideals to be met with disdain. What you did, by reporting me was to make me a target. I disagree with your evaluation of me and I can’t tell if it came from a place of genuine thought or retaliation, but you can’t be trusted to continue your education here unless you are willing to listen to others, especially those of us who are trying to help to teach you!”

He wiped his eyes with his sleeves. “They’re gonna kick me out. It’ll look bad on me, and all of my research and work from the past two years might not even matter anymore…”

“That doesn’t have to happen, Simon. Listen… I think you’re brilliant. I am willing to vouch for you this time, under the circumstances that you see someone about getting professional help for your responses to adversity.”

“You… want me to see a shrink.?”

“I think you could benefit from getting mental healthcare and I don’t want you in any classroom of mine unless you do.”

He shivered. It wasn’t the worst thing in the world. She went back in to explain this to the committee and he went through the campus counselors, hating most of them whenever he met with them, switching every time he didn’t like something about one of them, making very little progress, but still fulfilling the deal he made with the committee, for a time. He and Professor Hughes bickered a lot, but he had kept his temper in check whenever she aggravated him, and he eventually settled on a counselor that he didn’t completely hate, too.

He’d always come in, not at all wanting to speak to them. He tossed some books on the table and said, “That’s my dream journal, my intrusive thoughts notebook, and the standard journal. Look through them and then tell me whatever you need to tell me for me to get my paperwork signed off on.”

The man pushed the books back to him and said, “I’m not going to read those, but you’re free to talk about anything that you’ve written in them to me. Let’s start there.”

Simon flopped into the seat and rolled his eyes, “There’s nothing in these that I want to talk about. That’s why I wrote them in here. You’re the brain person. The information gets to you whether you read it or I say it.”

“Okay. Well, let’s see what the first entry is in this one…” He picked up the standard journal and read out loud, “I saw that they let the void out into the world again… What’s the void, Simon?”

Simon turned red and didn’t answer. After a while, the man continued reading, “It didn’t look like Grace. It was beautiful like her, but it looked older, which makes sense, because it was gone a while, and now it’s back…” 

Simon snatched the book from his hand and stuffed it into his backpack. “This was a bad idea. I’m not here to talk about or hear about the void.”

“I don’t know what the void is, but you wrote about it, so I’m inclined to believe that you think about it.”

“I’ve seen it!” Simon snapped pounding his fist on the desk. He took a deep breath. “I had a vision, at least I thought it was a vision. Whenever I was 16, when I was with my ex… we weren’t together for a long time, not that way. We were friends, first. We were friends for a long time, but I always loved her. I loved her before she even knew herself. I loved her with all of my heart.” He picked at his forearms where his tally marks were. “She just saw me as a friend, even though it was obvious that we should be together. Maybe I pushed too hard. Should’ve just left well enough alone. I had to have her and what I got was something else. She wasn’t the same. That wasn’t the girl I loved and I didn’t know it until I saw this… vision that I call the void. It came out of her, it engulfed her and consumed her and it took her place.”

“In a dream?”

“I’m not crazy.”

“I would never use that word to describe anyone.”

“I’m not whatever word you would use for crazy people! I know that it wasn’t real. But, I saw it and I knew that it was what replaced my friend. I hated it for taking her away, and I hated her for letting it. The void was just a way of dealing with the separation. I omitted everything connected to it from my life.”

“You voided her out.”

“Yeah. The person who looks like my friend got out of a mental institution a while back. That’s what that entry was about.”

“Do you honestly feel like the person who you saw is a different person than the one that you used to love? Do you believe that this void that you saw replaced her and that the entity you refer to as the void is now existing in the form of your friend?”

“What? No. I’m not crazy!”

“I’m asking you if when you refer to your ex as The Void, is that because you don’t see them as the human that you knew or because you have purposefully reduced them to something subhuman?”

“What difference does that make?”

“One would be purposeful dehumanization of someone you didn’t like and the other would be out of your control.”

“Nothing is out of my control,” Simon said.

“Some things have to be, Simon. Like the fact that you don’t want to be here, but the school is making you in order for you to remain enrolled. You can’t control everything, not even everything in your life. But, just because you can’t control everything, that doesn’t mean that you don’t control anything. So… Did you force this dehumanized version of this girl into your mind, or was it something out of your control?”

“I… I created it. I didn’t want to see the person that I needed turn away from me, so I imagined her as something else.” The man just nodded. “But, she made me do it! She was going to…” he shook his head. He couldn’t think of what it was that Grace had done that was so wrong. He needed to think back, remember the pain she caused him. Remember the damage she was willing to inflict… but, he felt like he was grasping. There had to be some reason. He couldn’t believe that he spent close to what 4 years now hating her for something that she didn’t actually do… No! She definitely was going to hurt him more than anyone ever had. “You had to know her. You had to know who she was to know what she could do to me.”

“I looked her up. She recently gave an interview about you. I can send you the link, if you haven’t seen it and are interested.”

“Grace did an interview about me?” He shook his head, “Whatever she said, she’s lying! It didn’t happen that way!”

“Simon… why don’t you do this… See if you can handle what she has to say and we can speak about how it made you feel next time." 

Simon left pretty upset. An interview? She hadn’t had anything to say all of this time. Why now? Was this some sort of reckoning against him? He waited until he got home, glanced around him at all of the destruction he’d caused in the past but few weeks. He had been enraged so frequently that he couldn’t even see his floor. 

But, he couldn’t rush into this. First, he picked up his mess, put things away, discarded what needed to be thrown out thanks to his destructive anger, and washed up for the night. No working on any projects or hobbies. Nothing that he loved or cared about in the event that this interview pissed him off. He let his hair fall and grabbed his phone. They were easier to replace than laptops. You could STOP raging when you get mad… Yeah right. And risk doing it at school again? They’d put me out for sure. 

He opened the link and the first thing he saw was Shana’s face. "This is already a bad start." 

"Hey Shady Kindred! Welcome to Shady Shana’s Dish, where we partake of both relevant and ratchet news. I’m your host, Shady Shana and today, I have a very special guest. My… frenemy turned… friendly associate?" 

Grace laughed. It sounded like music to Simon, even though he glared at her. "Let’s.. just say associate.”

“OOF. Shade. Okay, well… classmates, former classmates, at the very least. This is Grace Monroe. I think my audience would definitely know you. From your videos and songs and stuff. But, let me dish this out, I saw homegirl perform live in NYC, and this bitch had a cello. Okay? A cello! She was singing some opera stuff.”

“I don’t sing opera!”

“She was hitting high notes, this kinda alluring witch noise… you sounded like those tuning things, but like high-pitched… you had to be there. Just… check out her page. I’ll have her links in the description. She’s working on music, putting stuff out all of the time and also attending Julliard. Many talents, very beautiful, sweet, when she wants to be… But, we’re actually here to dish about something that Girlfriend hasn’t talked to anybody about in a long time. Mr. Simon Laurent.” Shana exaggerated how French she said his name and had a look of disgust when she did. 

He rewound to see Grace’s reaction. She nodded. She had prepared herself for this. She didn’t look angry or grossed out. Faking. Lies…

“Yes. I agreed to sit down with you in your really nice little studio here and talk about how I feel about Simon.”

“And just to let you messy ones at home know, we will not be speaking about the old school stuff. Grace was nice enough to give me an exclusive about her current day, so if you came to see what she wanted to say about the old stuff, this will not be the place. What he did do, didn’t do, how he done it, naw! None of that! So, I guess, my first question about it is how would you describe your current feelings about Simon Laurent?”

Grace laughed nervously, licked her teeth, sputtered out air (Simon hadn’t heard that sound in so long), and she shook her head, “It’s a loaded question. Ummm… I can’t say that I really have feelings about Simon. I have memories. I know that we were virtually inseparable for a long time. I know in my mind who I thought he was to me when we were younger, but, none of that has had any real bearing on my life in a while.”

“You don’t think about him or nothin?" 

"I mean… I’ve thought about him, but no, not like actively. It’s not a part of my day. It’s more like an occasional experience, when something triggers it or… even sometimes, it’ll be put of nowhere, but just not often. I don’t even know what Simon looks like right now. If you were to trick me and have him backstage or whatever and he came out here right now, Girl - it might take me a moment to recognize him.” Simon felt himself trembling. She didn’t even check up on him? She didn’t want to know? Of course she didn’t! She didn’t care about him..

Shana laughed. “Well, not to be messy…” was her trademark line for when she was about to say something really messy, “Sounds like he’s basically become, what did you two used to call those mediocre types? Non-essential!” Grace’s lip dropped and she titled her head and squinched her face, “Well…” she said in a high pitch, “I… he’s not present. He isn’t part of my life. He detached himself from my life, and I had to learn to move on and now, there’s simply no attachments. Like, if I ran into him, no, I might not know him right away, but the moment I realize, I’m sure I’d be overcome with emotions. I couldn’t tell you how I’d react.”

“Would you uppercut his ass?” Grace cackled and covered her face. “I mean..  if anybody deserves it…”

“I don’t think I’d uppercut his ass, as you so eloquently put it. I think… I’d check to see how he’s feeling. How he’s doing. If he’s found his peace now that I’m not there to affect anything. If he’s better off without me, like he figured he’d be.”

“Sooo… if I can get you two in a room, you wouldn’t even lay hands on him?”

“I… remember what happened. I remember how it felt. I remember pain. But, since then, I’ve learned empathy. I’ve learned pacifism. I’ve learned healing. So, it’s not that I’ve forgotten how hard that time was, but I’ve forgiven everything and I’d just be curious if he had forgiven things too.”

“Whooooooooooo,” Shana let our a long deep breath, “You are better than me. Because if I see him, it’s hands on sight. He’d better not have his head turned. I’ll bust him right in his neck vein." 

Grace laughed and shook her head, waving her hands, "I do not share in this sentiment. If you are a Simon stan, do NOT message me. I didn’t say anything bad about this man.”

“Which surprises me, because I know YOU won’t say anything about this, but I’ll say this and I’ve said this to him, as well… I still think that a lot of the things said about you were not true and a lot of the things done to you were just something that basically the lowest form of scum would do to someone. Something a… girl, I’m reaching back for this terminology… it was some… null type shit. Somebody less than zero would do that kind of thing, to anyone, much less someone that they cared about.”

“Well… I can’t speak for him, but you know… maybe he didn’t care about me as much as he seemed to… maybe these things are things you do to people you hate and maybe that’s what it was always gonna be with us. That’s why I would ask him how he’s doing. Maybe he was tired of being stuck around somebody he resented. I don’t know. But, I’ll always value any type of growth that I have. And if nothing else, Simon was definitely a harbinger of growth in my life.”

Simon didn’t realize that he was crying. Shana and Grace wrapped up the show and it went off with some music video that they worked on with a little girl. He didn’t watch it… his vision was too blurry. But he heard the song asking “Where would you be, without me?” And he couldn’t help but feel attacked. But, he closed out the video. If she wanted to see him and ask him how he was doing, sure… he could make that happen…

Next