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sgiandubh · 5 months

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S on BBC 4's Saturday Live: 'anything but a quiet life'

As you all know, S was today on BBC Four's Saturday Live radio talk show, sharing the scene with people like super male model David Gandy, Catrin Finch - a Welsh harpist of international repute and the ever fascinating Lucy Worsley, a strong contender (along with Mary Beard) for the title of personal favorite (living) historian.

You can listen (as I dutifully did twice) to it here: https://www.bbc.co.uk/sounds/play/m001t96r. I don't know how to embed it on this page, but that shouldn't be a problem.

The show is always interesting and I strongly suggest to let it play along and not rely only on my summing up & comments. I particularly enjoyed Lucy Worsley's Medieval and Baroque musical selection (flawless!) - but enough said, we're here for S, who was live on show from BBC's London studios.

As usually, I am going to transcript it as much as I can, primarily for those reading this post and using Google Translate (@bat-cat-reader, you are served!). So, you will kindly excuse the length, thank you.

At the 07:40 mark, a half jocular mention when prompted by the host: not a cricketer and not a harpist either (you can say many things about S, but not that he's got no humor - always a big plus in my book). But then things quickly get emotional, when he immediately mentions his mother (the question generally asked was 'what did your parents sacrifice for you?'), who 'sacrificed a lot (...) [as] a single parent, (...) she gave us everything, I think'. And then he quickly gets emotional, mentioning Chrissie H. again:

'(...) can I give my mom a shoutout, it's her birthday, on Monday [Nikki Bedi, presenter: 'aww, of course you can!'], so happy birthday, Chrissie, and thank you so much and I wish... I'm glad you never got me a harp, because I would have never dedicated myself. I think that's why I became an actor, because I didn't have to work too hard at one thing.'

It's then David Gandy's turn to talk about his own rural childhood in Billericay (Essex), his close knit family and his parents' endeavor of building a business and the now incomprehensible need to use faxes, something he has now to 'explain to the younger ones'. Then Nikki Bedi turns to S (13:08): 'Sam's laughing at that. Do you remember faxes?' Answer: 'I do.. I mean, I remember faxes getting scripts through or couriers bringing you know, scripts to your door, it..it's just a completely different world, now, and I am sure the fashion world is completely different now, isn't it, David, I mean it's changed so much'.

Onwards to more questions asked by Mrs. Bedi. This one was interesting (19:16): 'Sam, do you fear that each job you do is an act that could be your last? Is that always in the back or front of your mind?' Answer: 'Yeah, I think.. David, I mean...um... earnestly, everything you're saying there kinda rings true for my career as well... I am sure for Catrin being, you know, being a musician, I think it's, you know [Nikki Bedi: is it true, Catrin? CF: yes, absolutely, yeah, many things David said... it's the same (...)'].

Huw Stevens mentions alternatives to 'gigs', the need to plan for the future and the fact 'you always have to remain busy', mentioning S's whisky. Gandy also mentions S ('you've got quite a few businesses [...] a man after my own heart, we'll then gonna have to go out'), immediately cued in by Nikki Bedi ('whisky, tequila, gin').

Just after Lucy Worsley's superb intervention (easily my favorite of the whole program!), cue in to the kilt on a glacier part of S's chit-chat I am sure we all dutifully 🙄, by now. I noted the slight hesitation in his voice, while mentioning 'my...my friend, Graham McTavish', so I will not - yeah, sue me-, I repeat: I will not transcript this verbatim, simply because it doesn't really bring anything new or important to what we all know, already. Sitting on a glacier 'in a kilt, in commando, yes, it's my claim to fame'. Disgruntled Tumblrettes, beware - he poked fun at himself (shall I sign this to you, or are you able to read my lips?) and that is something only very intelligent people are able to do without sounding pathetic. Another interesting thing is the way Nikki Bedi presented S ('the actor, award-winning liquor maker and writer'- 36:00), roughly midway of the whole broadcast.

His dedicated segment begins at the 49:10 mark and lasts until the end, about 10 minutes in all. He was introduced by Huw Stevens: "Sam Heughan, it seems, would like anything but a quiet life", plus some cursory bio elements, mentioning his mother's influence on his own creativity, his breakthrough as JAMMF, but also TCND (Nikki Bedi watches it and 'apparently the third episode is the most steamy' 🤦‍♀️). 'He is also a philanthropist, businessman and thrill seeker, and of course, as mentioned earlier, has his own whisky and is a best-selling author'. Mentions his 'parents, characterful people, hippies, in the Seventies, with a love for Tolkien'. S: 'my mum would probably kill me if I called her a hippie' - also, 'she is not the best singer, but there was always music around'. Stevens mentions the Gandalf's Garden Soho hippie community both his parents were a part of before he was born, but S doesn't develop it. The rest (difficult childhood, loner, using his imagination sparked his creativity, etc) we know from Waypoints. The very Scottish concept of 'stravaigin'' comes along in the conversation, which is not exactly a drifter and a bit more than a wanderer (if I understood correctly) - perhaps a good title for a second personal memoir, S? I'll leave this idea float in here for free, heh. OL comes along then, and by far the most interesting thing he mentioned about it is that "it is my life, it's taken over my life', hoping it would sparkle at least some conversation in the comments' thread. OL 'has also been hugely beneficial for Scotland, increased tourism by 200% in some locations (...), and it's all down to the magic of Scotland'.

Next projects: exciting not to really know what is next, but 'I am also saying no to a lot, because I am in a place now where I think the next decision is really important (...). I enjoy being in control now (....), producing my own shows and you know, my own products. (...) once you take control of that creativity (....) there's a lot of freedom and yeah, we shall see'.

And then Huw Stevens makes a joke - but was it really a joke? it's the BBC, after all - and says that all four of the guests could contribute something to what 'could be the next generation of Bond', (S: 'the finest British production'). Cue in an anecdote about S being invited to present an event to Buckingham Palace and taking a cab to a pub, right afterwards. MPC and tomorrow's book signing at Saint Pancras station wrap off the show.

Quickly, my 50 cents on it: way, way better than expected and S always delivers when they ask no weird questions about his private life (hallelujah, maybe they listen to us, after all?). The question about the fear of each job being the last reminded me of one of his answers in a very early interview: 'your biggest fear? getting the sack'. This time, his answer, whatever he intended to say, got lost in the brouhaha, but I suspect not much has changed, essentially, even if the 'after OL' part of the show strives to tell a more optimistic story.

But the thing that impressed me the most and in a very good way is the attention he got from all the other people invited in that studio. Unlike the social nobodies of Tumblr, they did not find bizarre the fact that he created his own spirits business and is actively promoting it. They were far from judging him: in fact, I even think he made a new friend of David Gandy, who had quite positive and nice and honest things to say about him. S was articulate and graceful and very moving every single time he mentioned Chrissie. And I am also sure he would have loved to share more things, especially when David was lovingly talking about his wife and daughters. But he couldn't. And that is a shame. But this too, shall pass - The Boy is slowly learning to say no to a lot of things, as he just let us know. Probably the best news we've got from him in a good while.

And now, onwards to a particularly venomous Anon I am still pondering the answer to.

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thyme-in-a-bubble · 1 year

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daisy, chapter ten

A/N: I can not believe this is the last chapter! it's done! thank you for reading it, if you've been here since the start or if you just started reading it two seconds ago, thank you ♡

summary: “I don’t want the summer to end…”

warnings: private school!reader, perv!steve, kissing, this is technically scoops ahoy era steve, swimming, crying

word count: 1051

∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽

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previous chapter - series masterlist

In what felt like the blink of an eye, high school became a thing of the past. With the warmer months rolling by, not a day passed where you and Steve weren’t practically glued to each other.

Even as he busied himself with what he considered to be a slightly embarrassing summer job at the mall, that still didn’t stop him from hiding you in the ice cream shop’s break room, poking his head in way too often simply to steal a kiss.

Though on his days off, Steve always insisted on doing something quote-unquote special. Relaxed out by his family's pool as you read a trashy novel out loud for the both of you to enjoy, went out into the forest and had a cute little picnic, you even went on a road trip together one weekend, just the two of you. Packed up his little red car and zoomed out into the world. Stayed up way too late, sprawled out on top of the hood of his car and holding each other tight as you gazed up at the night sky. You’d stay there for so long that you’d eventually fall asleep, although Steve must have picked you up and carried you to shelter, because you always woke up in the back of his car, still secure in his embrace.

But on this day, since the summer days were unfortunately running out, Steve took you out to lover’s lake. It was the perfect weather for a dip in the water and somehow, you’d gotten super lucky and didn’t see another eye out there all day.

Running out into the water for what must have been the third time today, you glanced back at your best friend as he took his sweet time. Sending a splash of water in his direction, you giggled as it hit your target perfectly.

Catching your eye with a small gasp of a laugh, his feet quickly found hast as he rushed towards you, “oh, I’m gonna get you for that!” managing to catch your waist before you could swim away. You yelped as he lifted you up and fireman carried you further out, the water quickly coming up to meet his ribs.

“No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no!” you giggled as he playfully tossed you into the blue depths. Rapidly getting back up, you briefly wiped the water out of your eyes and pushed your drenched hair back before launching another big wave towards him. The both of you laughing and splashing each other abruptly ceased as his long arms wrapped around you, simultaneously holding your arms down and stopping your attack, but also drawing you in closer to his sodden fuzzy chest.

Looking up into his eyes, your laughter dimmed into a sincere smile, “thank you, Steve,” you uttered earnestly, the warm skin-against-skin contact your bathing suits allowed effectively shifted the mood, making you forget the game entirely.

“For what?” his brows furrowed lightly through his grin, fingers tangling themselves in the strings of your red bikini.

“These past few months,” you breathed, suddenly feeling very overwhelmed, “they’ve been perfect.”

“You’re perfect,” he replied sweetly, though the affectionate answer only caused your smile to fall from your lips.

“I-…” you averted your gaze, hands coming up for a bit of support against his chest, “I don’t want the summer to end…” you admitted, quickly crumbling into his sun-kissed skin, hiding your face from him, “I don’t wanna go, I don’t wanna leave you.”

Oh, how quickly the joy faded and made way for the tears you didn’t even realise had been building up and was now more than ready to tumble out.

“No, no, no,” he swiftly cradled your face, tilting it back so you could meet his eyes, “you are gonna go,” he told you determinately through his quivering lip, “you have worked your ass off for this, so you are gonna go off and become a doctor.”

You knew, of course you knew it was stupid to even consider throwing your dream away for a boy, but you still couldn’t deny the truth, “I don’t wanna leave you.”

“I’ll be okay,” you felt his fingertips wipe your tears away, “I have a car,” that fact didn’t comfort you much being aware of the colossal distance it would have to drive in order to reach you, “and you know,” he bit the corner of his bottom lip, choosing his next words very carefully, “with you gone, there isn’t really anything tying me to Hawkins anymore… I’m not going to college, at least not now. I just need a job, a different job,” he added with a small wince, recalling the current uniform he had to wear, “and I could really do that anywhere…. I mean, if you’d like me to…”

Completely and utterly stunned, not truly believing his words, you blinked up at him, “are you-… do you-….”

“Only if you want me to,” he searched your glossy eyes, bending his knees in the water a bit to be more at your level.

“Oh my god…” you uttered as you noticed the sincerity in his expression, “Steve, I can’t ask you to just do that,” you shook your head, your heart desperately wanting you to say yes, “move that far away?”

“You’re not,” he said quickly, “I’m the one asking,” tears blurred your vision once more, though this time they were accompanied by the smallest of smiles, “so, ace,” he took a deep breath and asked you, “do you want a roommate over there? I hear Boston gets really cold in the winter. Who knows, I might just come in handy.”

As quickly as your growing grin crinkled up your wet cheeks, that’s how rapidly you leaned in and kissed his lips. Practically climbing him like a tree, he eventually scooped you up, digging his fingers into your thighs and drawing you as close as he possibly could.

“Don’t you dare ever break my heart, Steve,” you pulled back, a shaky breath escaping your lungs, “I don’t wanna lose my best friend.”

Letting out a small, relieved exhale, he tilted his head and asked with a grin, “so, is that a yes?”

“Yeah,” you sniffled, just managing the quickest of nods before you felt his lips attack yours once more.

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melodythebunny · 3 months

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maybe someday

Valentine's day.

Roxxi couldn't say she outright hated the holiday- given how it was mainly for companies to exploit and earn more money.

But rather it was just a sore reminder of just how alone she was. Her, Roxanne Fowler, the biggest reporter in Fair City, alone. Maybe not truly alone. But did it count when she was surrounded by a bunch of fakes?

“Heya, Roxxi rocks.”

Roxanne raised her eyebrow at her approaching coworker. Freddy Fahrenheit, the weather man.

“hello Freddy.” Roxanne greeted.

“Y’know with Valentine's coming up I figured-”

She cuts him off, not even mildly interested. “No thanks, I have plans already.”

That was a lie of course. Knowing she would just spend her day cooped up in her apartment avoiding the world. But Freddy didn't have to know that.

She didn't miss how his face turned into a scowl for a moment. Very brief in fact. Not many would notice. But she learned to read faces long ago. For a moment she wonders if she had misjudged him. That was quickly squashed however in the following days where it had been apparent she had dodged a bullet.

Roxxane didn't hate her job.

But it became bluntly clear she didn't get this job off her intelligence. Part of it was for the money her family funded for the news station. And they just wanted a pretty face for the screens. So it wasn't a surprise for Roxxi when people wanted her around. Knowing why.

Still left a bitter taste in her mouth.

Then there was Amazo Guy.

He was like a breath of fresh air. Too good to be true. He was just so…genuine. The first time Roxxane had to do a cover story, admittedly she was excited. Having been somewhat of a superhero comic book fan growing up, it felt like a dream come true. She winded up asking more questions than what was written down for her to ask.

She stopped seeing how overwhelmed he was becoming. Amazon didn't say anything but she could see him holding a strained smile, one she often used.

Oh…

“Sorry..I got excited..and I know that's not a valid excuse…” Roxxi says earnestly.

“It's alright. I get that it's your job and I've had way more invasive questions than that.” Amazo said, trying to wave it off.

The news reporter glanced down at her paperwork realizing she hadn't even begun writing down anything. “Nah these weren't even on my task list. you know what…” She yeeted her clipboard somewhere behind her. “We don't even have to do this interview if you don't want to.”

“Really?” The hero looked at her perplexed but she could also see he seemed a bit relieved.

“Yea, really.” Roxxane said. She found herself meaning it too. More and more often did she start realizing that the ones behind the capes and masks were people too. Constantly having to deal with expectations of others. Often judged and opinions discarded as Long as the others got what they wanted.

Maybe she and Amazo guy weren't so different after all.

Perhaps that's why she began to fall for him. Roxxi hadn't even noticed until she looked at the card she had made. Her face flushed with embarrassment.

Lois Lane to your Superman. She had written.

How cheesy.

a few poetic lines couldn't tell him how much he meant to her. She crumpled the paper and tossed it into a trashcan.

She looked at the photo she had taken with Amazo guy. She really was supposed to unmask him. But honestly didn't care about what her bosses wanted. Couldn't fire her without losing the funding they craved.

She found herself unwrinkling her crumpled card.

Maybe someday…

@blueweirdness

@ninjastormhawkkat

@erraticeris

@lartmacabre

@liloskull343

#My writing #My fanfic #My fic #wordgirl au #wordgirl #wordgirl oc #amazo guy #Roxxane Fowler #valentine's day

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mishkakagehishka · 2 years

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Hiii <3 I was wondering if you could write something for Hiiro Amagi? If so then could you write one wherein ALKALOID hosts a physical meet and greet in a mall and he sort of falls in love at first sight with the gender neutral reader who just so happens to be passing by.

Ohh, and i also love the one you wrote with Leo :D Have a nice day!

Thankies! ^^ I enjoyed writing this a lot, love at first sight. It gave me a bit soulmate AU feels~

Word count: 1290 Summary: Hiiro ditches his job halfway through in order to talk to that mysterious person - he was simply drawn to them, he couldn't help it! Notes: I have no idea what a physical meet and greet entails, so it's a handshake event. I also have no idea what a handshake event entails. I'm just stringing words together <3 Also first time writing Hiiro!!

"Thank you for supporting us!" "You were at our live, too, right? I remember you!" "P-please, continue to watch over us…" Hiiro observed his unitmates shaking the hands of the fans who came to see them, offering words of comfort and appreciation. That day's handshake event took place at the local mall, one he was already familiar with as they also did most their shopping there themselves. It's already been some time since they managed to avoid being fired, since ALKALOID became an established unit, since Hiiro arrived in the city, but he still found himself lost, so to say, in certain situations. Although ALKALOID had hosted handshake events before, he still felt like he didn't quite get the gist of it, and so appreciated the fact that he had a chance to once more confirm how he was expected to act. He was grateful for his unitmates, in that sense, asides from serving as an example to him, they were also always quick to help him. In a way, he felt like he was the leader of their unit, but they held him firmly in that position, helping him, showing him the way when he couldn't see it. If he was the head of ALKALOID, they were the neck that supported him. His thoughts were cut short when another fan approached him, hands outstretched. He took them in his own, gave a firm squeeze, and with the friendliest smile he naturally held, he said, "We'll continue showing you the best performances!" And he meant it. He always did.

As much as they all loved interacting with their fans, giving them back for their support (and Aira especially seemed to almost cry every time a fan with an ita-bag dedicated to him came along; it would just be the two of them clutching each other’s hands and sobbing thank-yous), it was undeniable that handshake events were the ones that got repetitive quite quickly, and it's common for the idols' thoughts to start wandering after a while. For their eyes to start darting from place to place, everywhere except to their work.

Hiiro, who often found his attention span lacking, was in just such a situation. His eyes escaping, though he made sure to earnestly thank the fans and shake their hands strongly, he couldn't help his thoughts drifting away. Despite the fact that he was getting used to life in the city, he still found it fascinating to observe the diverse array of people and types who occupied the streets, the life of the city. He was doing just that in that moment; when he wasn't looking a fan in the eyes and thanking them for their support, he was looking at the people who walked around the mall, carrying bags, entering and exiting the individual stores. Couples, families, people who came with friends, people who came alone. In one of those moments, he noticed a certain person. He couldn't tell you what exactly made him notice them specifically, he simply… found himself drawn in by the air they gave off, despite walking quite a distance away from the area of the mall where ALKALOID were holding the handshake event. There was just something about them that drew him in – that hypnotised him.

He didn't hear Tatsumi's concerned questions, nor Aira's exasperated scolding as he sprinted out of the area, vaulting over the waist-high fence that separated it from the mall proper. His athletic disposition came to show in that performance, as he managed to cross the distance in mere seconds. In mere seconds - he was face to face with them.

"Excuse me!" He called out, skidding to a halt, barely out of breath. They jumped ever so slightly, a natural reaction to seeing such an energetic man running so quickly in their direction. "Um, hi?" And he… found himself at a loss for words. Although he made his move boldly, it was still made on impulse, and now he hadn't a clue on what to actually say to them. All he could think is that he had to say something charming, something witty, something that would impress them, but also endear him. Instead, he only stared at them for a few seconds, silent as a bug. "... Do you need something?" They shifted from one leg to another. "Uh," he snapped out of it, "My name is Amagi Hiiro, and… I saw you, I mean, I couldn't help but notice you!" "Yes?" "And, well, I was, uh," he was tripping over his words again, finding it harder to explain himself. Ultimately, he decided it would be best to be direct, "There was just something about you that made me want to come and talk to you!" "Well, here we are, talking." Though the interaction was edging on the side of awkward, they couldn't see in Hiiro any malicious intent. His smile and eyes seemed honest, and his body language was open, friendly. There was nothing about his carriage that would hint at any dangerous thoughts or plans brewing in his mind, rather, he came across as trustworthy. Furthermore, they couldn't deny that there was, similarly, something about Hiiro that made them want to get to know him better, too. "Fumu! But, I'd like to-"

"Hey, Hiro-kun!" Aira angrily stomped over, huffing and puffing (and slightly short of breath). "What's the big idea, huh?! We're in the middle of a job!" "Oh, my bad!" "Don't 'my bad' me! What was so important that-" He interrupted himself as he met eyes with the person, noticing the way they were holding the hem of their jacket, almost shyly. They waved to him with the other hand, a small wave. "I was just trying to get the chance to get to know them better! I saw them, and thought I just had to talk to them. I’m sure you understand, friend." But, unlike the charmingly oblivious Hiiro, Aira's read enough fanfiction to know what was going on. "Is it love at first sight…? Rabu~i!" He squealed, pushing lightly at Hiiro's back, pushing him closer to them. "Wait, no! Ugh, just exchange numbers and meet up for coffee or something later! We still have work to do!" "Fumu! … How do I exchange numbers?" The person’s eyes lit up. "I'll show you," they immediately volunteered, beyond happy that Aira gave the suggestion to him.

And while Aira quietly left to leave them to it (though sticking by some ways further just to make sure Hiiro actually comes back without dilly-dallying), they took Hiiro's phone, inputting their own phone number in it with ease. "And this is my name," they pointed at the newly made contact. "Call me when you're free," they said with a warm smile. "I will! Thank you!" "Of course, it's no problem. If you finish with your work soon, we can meet up for coffee today, too. There's this really good café that opened here a few days ago, and I've been dying for a chance to check it out." "That sounds great! I would love to-" "Hiro-kun!" The look and laughter they shared in that moment felt natural with them, Hiiro noted.

He thought about Aira's exclamation - love at first sight. And he noticed how much he wanted to keep his eyes on them as he walked away. And he noticed how nervous and impatient he was, wanting to see them again, as he was working. And he wondered. Love at first sight. As he felt himself cheer up the moment he saw them, as they got lost in conversation about everything and nothing on that sweetly innocent first date, as he went home thinking how much he already misses them… He thought that Aira might just have been right.

#i did mention soulmate aus bc i wouldn't mind requests pertaining them. btw #wait i just had an idea-#ensemble stars #enstars fanfiction #hiiro amagi #amagi hiiro #hiiro amagi x reader #reader insert #enstars fluff #my writing

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hiraeth-witch-11 · 1 year

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Bond To Happen Part 11

Part 11: What if I'm a Mistake?

Warnings: the reader has passive suicidal ideation, lots of big feelings from trauma, mention of SA, canon typical content

Word Count: 3500ish

“You slept in the same bed as Billy Russo and nothing happened?” Karen asks in blatant disbelief, fingers stilling in your hair. You roll your eyes at her from your spot on the couch, head resting in her lap.

“That is what I said, Kare, 3 times now, I think. He’s a good guy, he’s never made me uncomfortable and he respects my boundaries.” Your tone is a little defensive.

“I know, sweetie. Honestly, he’s surprised both me and Frank with how he is around you. I just meant you both obviously have some sort of connection and I thought being that close might be what changes things up a bit.”

You relax at her words. “I was so tired, I passed out pretty quickly. I was just grateful the thunder wasn’t as loud after I fell asleep.”

“And if you both had been more awake?” Her words make you think.

“I don’t know if I’m there yet, Kare,” you say softly. “It’s not like he’s even actually said anything to show he’s interested either. There would have to be so much talking to even start anything romantic or physical and I haven’t told him everything about my magic. It would be too complicated and I don’t even know where I would begin…”

“Do you want me to just listen or do you want my thoughts?”

“Thoughts,” you mumble, focusing on the show the two of you have on in the background.

“I think you’re focusing on the obstacles instead of deciding whether or not you want to try,” Karen says kindly.

“What would I do if I did decide?” You ask earnestly.

“I think you gotta pick first, babe,” she answers with a smile.

“Ughhh, why can’t things just be simple. It would be so much easier if I actually got a real amount of energy from you and the rest of the gang,” you groan.

“Me too, but at least it’s been helping a bit, right?”

You nod, unable to voice the lie. You did feel better around your friends, especially when touching them, but it didn’t last. Even when you had tried opening your connection to their auras and actively feeding from them, the results had been disappointing. The moment they left the room, your fatigue would come crashing back down on you. You still spent as much time with your found family as you could, but it was about as effective as taking ibuprofen for a stab wound. You didn’t want them to worry, though, so you didn’t say anything. You kept yourself from truly putting words to it, but you had pretty much resigned yourself to your eventual death. Anything you tried now felt like it would be useless. A flailing of limbs as you ran out of air. You didn’t want that. You just wanted to be with your friends until you couldn’t anymore.

Billy was a fantasy, a white knight you were starting to daydream about swooping in and fixing all your problems. But you don’t think even he can help you at this stage. You’d probably have to be attached at the hip 24/7 to make a difference in your health. To be honest, you’d lost pieces of your will to live steadily over the last few years. The first when your parents disowned you. Another when a blonde man slipped something into your drink, a choice that led to his death. You think the biggest part of you gave up that night in the rain, surrounded by the bodies of men who saw you as less than an animal.

******

The days following you and Russo’s rainstorm adventure, he made a point to check on you twice daily. Often through a text in the morning and evening, but it quickly evolved into more. Billy stopping by your office to chat or share food became a regular thing. If he came into the office with a coffee, he always had an extra for you. Frank complained about being left out anytime he noticed. Turns out, you were right, Russo had a sweet tooth, so you would frequently find a tart or donut or some obscure miniature dessert on your desk during the week.

Russo asked about your life, your family. A sore topic, it turns out, for both of you.

“They disowned me when I told them about all this,” You say, waving a hand and allowing a bit of your icy blue magic to be visible around the room.

“Shit, I’m sorry,” Russo says earnestly.

“It is what it is. They told me I was as good as dead to them. They weren’t bad parents, though, so it was tough to accept they meant it. Up until they brought out the shotgun to make sure I moved all my shit out of their house. At least they waited until after undergrad to decide they hated ‘my kind’.” You leave out some details. Mainly that they called you a whore because of the details of your magic. At the time you thought you were some sort of succubus related witch. But you’d only ever had sex twice with a friend in college so you don’t think you can really claim either title.

“I grew up in foster care. Frank was the first family I ever had.” Billy admits after a few beats. His aura darkens at the memory, you can tell it’s painful for him, but the change in aura doesn’t feel uncomfortable for you like it should.

“Frank’s good people,” you say finally. “He’s a grumpy bastard, but he’s a real softie on the inside, I think, at least.”

“Don’t let him hear you say that,” Billy laughs. “He’d pout for a week.”

“That is such a strange visual. Frank Castle pouting,” you snort, imagining it. “It’s weird to think that about this time 2 years ago, I didn’t have a single friend in the city and now I’ve got a whole little group. Never had that many people in my life before.”

“Surely you had friends in college?” Billy asks incredulously.

“Never more than two at a time, and most of them didn’t last long.” You shake your head. “It was okay though, I’ve always preferred the quiet.”

“I’m sorry to interrupt it then,” Billy says, jokingly moving to get up.

“No, no. You are a rare exception. Especially as talkative as you are,” you tease.

“Glad to hear you like me, sweetheart,” Billy says, smirking as he settles back into the chair.

“I didn’t say that.” You feel your cheeks warming and rush to turn the subject back to him. “What about you? I bet you had a bunch of friends through school. You seem like a popular guy.”

Russo shakes his head non committedly. “I was just another pretty face in highschool. Same for the Marines, at the beginning at least.”

You can sense a little bitterness around that word. Pretty. He didn’t like it. His whole aura tenses as he says it. It was something you’d suspected before, but his aura had never confirmed your suspicions until now.

“Well, you started your own company from the ground up and you do a lot of good with it. I would say you have progressed past being just a pretty face.”

“Thanks, sweetheart.”

******

“Hey, Blue. Any plans for the weekend?” Billy asks, leaning against your doorframe.

“I was planning to get drinks with Karen tonight, but she has to work late so I’m deciding whether or not I still want to go.” You rest backwards in your chair and interlace your fingers over your abdomen, twiddling your thumbs as you think.

“Alone?” Billy arches an eyebrow.

“Well, yeah. Unless you want to come?”

“I’d love to.” Billy smiles at your offer.

Looking back, you probably should have just gone alone. With Billy next to you, you don’t really want to feed. Or you want to feed from him too much and have decided it wouldn’t be fair to do that to a friend without them knowing about it. Instead of feeding, you enjoy a strawberry daiquiri and tease Billy over his choice in beer.

“I don’t need to try it to know it’s gross, Bill.”

“So you’re judgin’ me without having anythin’ to back yourself up?”

“Objectively, I know my drink tastes better.”

“That’s ‘cause it’s sweet, can you even call it a real drink, sweetheart?”

“It has twice as much alcohol as yours does, and it actually tastes good. I swear you and Frank drink that shit just because you’re ‘too manly’ for anything else.” You use air quotes around the words and take another sip. “Try it and tell me you still think yours is better.” You offer him your drink. He raises an eyebrow and swaps drinks with you.

“Only if you try mine.”

You make a face, “Fine.”

The two of you drink at the same time and you grimace. “Yup, I stand by my statement. All beer is gross.”

“Yours is better,” Billy nods, taking another sip.

“I told you so.”

He hums and goes in for a third sip.

“Hey, get your own,” you say as you swipe your drink back before he can drink anymore.

“Why would I do that when I can just steal yours?” Billy grins.

“Absolutely not, William. I will fight you for it.” You finish your drink and the two of you talk for another few minutes before you are ready to call it a night.

An obnoxiously loud chorus of laughter comes from a group across the room and you wince at the noise.

“If you don’t like crowds so much, why do you go out for drinks instead of stayin’ in?” Billy asks curiously as the two of you get up to walk home.

You shrug, “I can’t become a hermit, Bill.” And you have to at least try to feed sometimes.

“Well I’m happy to come with you anytime you want company.” He eyes the room with disdain. “Or a buffer.”

He holds the door open for you and the cool night air hits you as you laugh in response to his words, “A buffer from what?”

“You haven’t noticed all the guys starin’ at you that whole time?”

“Like in a ‘thinking of harvesting my organs for the black market’ way or a ‘there’s something on my face’ way?”

“In a ‘jealous that you have company already’ way.” Billy moves to the outer side of the sidewalk.

You give Billy an incredulous look of disbelief. “In that case, it was probably meant for you, not me.”

“Most of them aren’t my type, sweetheart.”

“Most of them aren’t my type either.”

“What is your type then?” Billy asks.

You are my type, your mind supplies unhelpfully. “I’m not even sure if I know anymore. Most often, it’s women.”

“‘Women’ is a pretty broad category.” Billy grins.

“There are a lot of gorgeous women in the world and they all look different, I happen to appreciate different types of beauty.”

“I hear that. And when it comes to men?”

“My type gets more specific with men. Not that I’ve even dated one in years.”

“That specific, huh?”

“Yup. They have to respect boundaries for one, which feels damn near impossible to find sometimes. I can’t date anyone who’s sexist or racist or homophobic or threatened by me.They gotta be able to communicate their feelings effectively. They have to understand my whole weirdness with touch. And that’s not even adding in if I find them physically attractive. What about you?”

“I thought my type was anything on two legs,” Billy jokes.

“Come on, it’s not fair if I’m the only one revealing all my secrets.”

“So your type is a secret.”

“It might be.”

“In that case,” Billy chuckles. “I like fiery women- and men occasionally.”

You try not to let your surprise show at the admission. Sure, he had hinted, but he’d never outright said anything.

“If we’re talkin’ more than just a passin’ thing, I guess I gotta lot of the more specific descriptions too. I’ve just never really gotten around to a real relationship and figurin’ all that out. Frank keeps tellin’ me ‘quality over quantity.’”

“If it makes you feel any better, I’ve never had a real relationship either. The closest I got was pseudo-dating someone for a month in college. It ended when I started flinching anytime they touched me. That was when this whole thing really got started,” you explain gesturing to your temple. “It sucked ‘cause I really liked them.”

“I don’t really like touch all that much either,” Billy starts softly. “There was this guy at the group home. I must have been ten, eleven at the time. When a grown man tells you that you're pretty, you know nothing good is coming. Let's just say, I wasn't interested in the kind of games that he had in mind. So I went after him with the stickball bat. Caught him good a couple times, too. Then he broke my arm. Got pissed off, ripped my rotator cuff in three places.”

You don’t know what to say, don’t know what you can say.

Billy continues, “And the older I got, the prettier I got, and the more people wanted a piece of me in one way or another. When people want somethin’, they find a reason to grab it. Shit, you probably know what I mean better than most.”

You nod and look up at him as the two of you keep walking. “You didn’t deserve it, any of it, Billy.”

“Neither did you,” Billy insists, surprising you. You’d never told him what happened, never told anyone. Frank was the only one who you had even mentioned it to. You preferred to keep it buried. Maybe you’ve misread and he meant something else, but instinct tells you he knows, he sees you, he understands.

******

“It’s okay, Frank, it’s just a migraine. People get them all the time and still work,” you insist.

“How many days this month have you had a migraine this bad and still came in?” Frank asks, sounding pretty pissed at you. The lights in your office were as low as they could go and you had had an ice pack over your forehead when Frank came in unannounced as he had a bad habit of doing.

“I didn’t keep track. I don’t know why you’re upset, Frank, I’m getting my work done. This hasn’t affected the quality of my readings or reports.”

“Be straight with me, Blue. Are these migraines ‘cause of your magic?” He refuses to let you get out of this conversation with your excuses. The day or so after you’d returned from your trip with Billy, you had felt better than you had in months but that feeling quickly devolved into feeling worse. You’d had a taste of how good it could be and your magic was protesting. Even going out with him the other night was only a brief escape from the pain.

“Yes.”

“Shit, kid, I didn’t know things had gotten this bad. Does Bill know?”

“No and you won’t tell him. There’s nothing to be done and my job keeps me focused. I’ll tell him if it becomes a problem.” You keep your voice firm, trying to match Castle’s classic stubbornness. You didn’t want to bring Billy into all this, you don’t want him to worry.

“If you get any other symptoms. So much as a sniffle, you will tell one of us immediately. Tell me you understand,” he orders.

“I understand, Frank. I will, I promise.” You aren’t sure if it’s the truth.

Frank eyes you, as if he doesn’t quite believe you either. He eventually nods and leaves your office. Once he’s gone, you remove the ice pack from your face and sit up, reaching for your water bottle. Warmth trickles from your nose and you reach up to wipe it away absentmindedly, as if it’s an itch. You look down at your hand and assess the scarlet coating your skin.

“Fuck.”

******

You had a theory that Matt knew something more than he let on about your health. Sometimes he’d ask if you were okay, a deeper meaning in the words. Or he’d make a point to ask if you wanted to talk, if you needed any help. You didn’t realize how much his enhanced senses were picking up until he confronted you one night in the kitchen of his apartment while you helped clean up after game night.

“You aren’t okay, are you?” He states more than asks.

“I don’t want to talk about it, Matthew,” you reply coolly as you dry a dish.

“You’ve been brushing this off for too long, Blue, talk to me.”

“There’s no point, nothing is going to change this.” You gesture to your head, aura flashing.

“Bullshit. Have you even been trying? Have you looked for anything more concrete about your magic or your species?” Matt is struggling to keep from raising his voice in frustration.

“What is the point? I tried, but it didn't work. I gave up. There is no point in fighting anymore.” You aren’t as good at controlling your volume.

“The point,” he’s practically spitting in anger, “is that you have people who love you. You could have a good life. You just have to want it.”

“A life without real sleep? Without being able to sit in only my thoughts? Without any real chance of a life partner? In a country that’s would sooner collar me, or fucking burn me, than help me? What is the point, Matt?” You’re yelling now, tears slipping down your cheeks as you feel that quiet, ever present rage fill you. The rage of a queer person used to hearing slurs in hallways, bars, and family dinners. Of a woman who has been threatened and belittled and hurt by men who think they are owed something they choose to take. Of a witch who lost her family, her home, her dreams of the future, who was forced into becoming a survivor.

And with this, you begin to face some of the pain you have forced so deep down into your mind. Everything you were, everything you loved, has been taken from you piece by piece. Your family was your only constant growing up, you’d always struggled to make friends. Your parents took that from you in an instant. You thought you would find freedom in your travels, but all you received was hurt and hate from the strangers you encountered. You finally finally settle in a city where you begin to feel safe, and then your rights are slowly stripped away. You hadn’t wanted to be alive in a long time. Even with your friends, your pain still festered within you like an infection you refused to treat. Sometimes you think death would be easier than this. Anything would be easier than this.

“You deserve to live, Blue,” Matt says softly, voice thick with emotion.

“You don’t know that, Matt. You don’t know what I’ve done to stay alive this long,” you shake your head furiously.

“Have you ever purposely hurt someone innocent?”

“No, but I-”

“Then it doesn’t matter. Do you think Frank deserves to die for what he’s done?”

“No, but-”

“Then why would you?”

“What if I’m a mistake?” You voice a fear that has followed you for so long, you can’t remember a life without it. Something that started small, when no one wanted to play with you as a little kid and grew as disaster seemed to follow you everywhere. “What if I’m wrong and that’s why this happened? Maybe this is nature’s way of self correcting.”

“Someone as good as you, could never be wrong, Blue.”

You break down at that. Full, heaving sobs as you lean over the sink, face in your hands.

“Can I?” Matt asks and you nod, feeling his arms wrap around you.You turn and cry into his shoulder, venting emotion that you’ve tried so hard to avoid, and he lets you. Rubs your back gently and murmurs kind words into your hair. “It’s going to be okay. You’re going to be okay.”

After a while, your sobs taper off, turning to heavy breathing interrupted with sniffles. You try to apologize for ruining Matt’s shirt, but he won’t let you.

“How long has that been building up?”

“A while,” you admit.

“I know I'm not one to talk about the whole, you know, sharing things and talking about feelings, but you know we’re here for you. Right?”

“I know, Matt.”

“I found some older stories and documents, Karen helped but I told her it was a surprise for you. They look promising, Can I send the info to you? Maybe you can look it over and see if anything clicks?” He explains once you’ve calmed down.

“Okay, I’ll give them a look,” you agree. You aren’t sure if your feelings about dying have changed much, but for Matt, for Karen and the rest of the people you’ve become so close with, for Billy, you can try.

Series List

If you want to be put on, or taken off my taglists, feel free to tell me!

Series Taglist: evyiione, @kayhi808, @ellooo0ooo, happydeanpotter, intothesoul

Billy Russo Taglist: @snowkestrel

Feedback is the spice of life and I appreciate any and all comments, questions, and thoughts.

#billy russo x reader #the punisher #fluff #witch!reader #angst #daredevil #frank castle #magic

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emerysaks · 2 years

Note

Cartinelli go to a baseball game

Your wish is my command! Take Me... Out to the Ballgame?

Angie and Peggy watch the New York Yankees play the Red Sox on September 26, 1947. "I can't believe you got us tickets to see the Yanks play the Sox!" Angie gushed. She reached for the CrackerJacks Peggy held and grinned at her.

Peggy laughed and lifted a hand to keep her hat from blowing away. "I know how much you enjoy baseball, and I thought it was a nice way of saying thank you for taking care of me earlier this month when I was sick."

"It's a fantastic way to say thank you," Angie agreed. "Only thing better would've been the Dodgers," she winked.

Peggy laughed. "You and your Dodgers."

Angie grinned. "Not a word."

Peggy mimed sealing her lips, but her eyes twinkled with amusement.

Angie settled back into her seat and took a sip of her soda. She watched the field intently as Joe DiMaggio walked up to bat.

"Joltin' Joe is gonna' knock this one out of the park," she predicted.

"You think so?" Peggy murmured.

"Absolutely."

They watched DiMaggio take two balls and a strike before hitting a line drive for a double.

"Well, it's not a homer, but at least we got a man on base."

Peggy laughed. "I'm delighted that you love baseball. It quickly became one of my favorite pastimes when I moved to America."

Angie grinned. "I love it. I wanted to play when they formed the girls' leagues a few years ago. But there was no way I could convince Ma to let me take a train to the Midwest. I wish they'd had teams on the East Coast. I know I could've made a roster."

Peggy glanced down at Angie's toned arms and arched an eyebrow. "I have no doubt you would've made an excellent fielder."

Angie blushed and turned away. "You talk too much, English."

Peggy casually ran a finger along the bundle of muscle and pretended to flick away a speck of lint. She brought her gaze back to Angie. "I mean it, darling. I've seen you play pickup games with your family. You're an excellent baseball player." She glanced back to the field. "And I would have loved to see you in uniform."

Angie gulped and returned her attention to the game. Oh boy. The mere idea of Peggy waiting for her to come out of the locker room, freshly showered and pressed, was enough to make a girl sweat. Peggy sure knew how to get under her skin.

"Have I embarrassed you," Peggy said in a low voice.

Angie shook her head. "No. Not embarrassed." She shrugged. "Maybe a little bothered," she offered truthfully and bit her lip when she heard Peggy chuckle.

Peggy Carter did not fight fair.

As Angie looked around her, taking in the sights and sounds of the game, she reflected on how lucky she was to have Peggy in her life. She was touched that Peggy would go to such lengths for her.

The breeze coming in across the outfield was chilly. It was early afternoon, but it was already cooling off. The high had been 60F, but now it was closer to 50. Angie pulled her jacket tighter around her and looked back at Peggy to find her buttoning up her coat. A wave of affection poured over her.

"This day has been wonderful, Pegs."

Peggy smiled at her. "I'm so glad you're enjoying it, darling."

"I really am," Angie agreed, "But," she continued, a note of worry in her voice. "Ya' don't have to take a day off work and spend money on me. I'm just as happy sitting on the couch with you at home." She looked at her earnestly. "You know that, right?"

Peggy leaned closer and bumped Angie's shoulder. "Maybe I enjoy spending time with you."

Angie blushed again. Although they had been living together for more than a year, it was only recently that she and Peggy had come to an understanding. The past several months had gone slowly as they adjusted to the new dynamic in their relationship. Although many of their routines stayed the same, new ones had been introduced. Angie particularly enjoyed their goodnight kisses before retiring to their respective bedrooms. She also enjoyed quiet nights spent cuddling on the couch, listening to The Amazing Mr. Malone, or reading through a script as Peggy worked.

But Angie wanted more.

Angie had hugged Peggy numerous times before they became a couple. She also had eyes, so she was aware of Peggy’s soft curves. But since they'd started sharing lingering kisses, her hands had begun to wander. Now, Angie longed to become more intimately acquainted with those curves, preferably without clothing.

Longing.

That word best summed up how Angie felt these days. And as she looked at Peggy beaming at her, cheeks flushed, eyes twinkling with affection, longing slammed into her once again.

Angie looked around and ensured nobody was listening before she leaned close to Peggy's ear.

"I could spend the rest of my life with you, English," she admitted in a rushed whisper.

Peggy gasped softly and Angie pulled away.. She'd said too much too soon.

But then, Peggy reached down, took her hand, and pulled her to her feet.

"Let's go home."

Angie looked around. "But, it's the bottom of the seventh, and the Yankees are only down by one."

Peggy continued to pull Angie behind her as she ascended the stairs. "I find that I'm suddenly no longer interested in baseball."

"But the game," Angie spluttered, but her words fell to the wayside as Peggy navigated them through the stadium crowd, Angie's arm securely tucked through Peggy's.

When they finally stood outside the stadium gates, Peggy turned to Angie and straightened her coat and hat.

Angie placed a hand on Peggy's arm and stilled her movements. "Peg, what's going on? Did I upset you?" she asked in a worried tone.

Peggy peered at Angie and took a step closer. "On the contrary…" She looked around and leaned in.

"I thought you were enjoying the game," Angie tried again. Her heart started to beat faster.

"I was," Peggy admitted. Her eyes flickered to Angie's lips. "However, I think I'm ready for… something else."

Angie searched Peggy's eyes. Surely, Peggy wasn't implying... that. But they were dark and... hungry.

She swallowed. Oh.

Lifting her chin, Angie looked Peggy in the eye and tried to steady her voice. "I need you to spell it out for me, Pegs. I have to know we're on the same page here."

Peggy's gaze darkened, and she pressed her lips to Angie's ear, cupping her hands around her mouth to shield it from view. "My lover, with whom I've been enjoying a respectable relationship, just informed me that she wants to spend forever with me."

When Peggy's lips discretely closed around Angie's earlobe and gave it a tug, Angie thought she might melt through the concrete.

"So you want..." Angie began but stopped when those delicious lips bit down again. "Peggy," she moaned. "We're in public."

Peggy stepped back and wiped a thumb across the corner of her mouth. "We are. I'm trying to rectify that." She gazed at Angie frankly. "I've never taken you to be dense, darling, but perhaps I should spell it out?"

Angie could only nod.

Looping her arm through Angie's, Peggy guided them to the nearest subway platform. "Very well. We'll get on the subway and take the half-hour ride back to our neighborhood. Upon arrival, we'll proceed directly to our home. Once inside, I'm going to escort you to my bedroom," she stopped and glanced at Angie, "Unless you prefer yours?"

Angie shook her dazedly. "Yours is f-fine."

Peggy grinned. "Excellent choice. My bed is bigger," she said and continued walking.

Angie's eyes slid shut as she imagined what that entailed. "Oh my God," she muttered aloud.

"Yes," Peggy agreed. Her confidence momentarily faltered, and she looked at Angie earnestly. "If that's alright with you, darling?"

Angie brought her hand up to cover Peggy's. When she looked at Peggy, her eyes were bright, and her voice steady.

"Take me home, Peggy. I can't wait to start forever with you."

#peggy carter #cartinelli #angie martinelli #fanfic #ficlet #prompt #baseball #peggy x angie #agent carter

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leatherfangs · 9 months

Text

Moira Lafontaine.

Liddy has been married twice in her life, though neither was officiated in a church, nor legalized in any documents. Her first wife, Moira Lafontaine, was an artist from France. She and Liddy knew each other for a little over 30 years, and she died of natural causes following years of suffering mental degradation and PTSD. Their life together was a happy one, filled with music and laughter and beautiful women, and Liddy only regrets not proposing to her sooner.

She first met Moira in New York City in 1918. Moira was in her early 40s, fresh off the boat, and determined to enjoy herself after serving as a nurse in the Great War. Moira had talked her way into an assistant's position with the photographer who produced Liddy's pinups, so it wasn't a surprise that their relationship grew heated all too quickly. Despite Liddy's penchant for taking charge, Moira seemed to sweep her off her feet time and again, making decisions, taking her on dates, and introducing her to the joys of rouged knees and jazz clubs. And though Liddy was ready to purchase a ring, it was Moira who proposed first.

The wedding was filled with loud music and laughing friends, and Liddy came clean about her nature seven years in. Moira accepted it all in stride, never ready to stop for anything -- even a vampiric wife. She never asked to be Turned, never asked for anything except to be loved as deeply and earnestly as she loved Liddy. She was a burgeoning artist, in awe of the surrealist movement, and a lover of cinema. The women spent countless evenings together, huddled together in a dark theater, watching the latest film with delight.

But when one's wife is a vampire, and one's doctor only ever works during the day, it's easy to keep secrets. Though she didn't know it by that name, early onset dementia ran in Moira's family, and a head wound in the war had slowly been creeping up on her. The doctors knew about it. Moira knew about it. But Liddy was ignorant until the symptoms became too bad to ignore. She was determined not to leave Moira alone, and stayed with her until Moira's late 60s, when she couldn't seem to remember anything but the war. And no matter how many times Liddy tried to comfort her, dance with her, remind her of the times they had together, nothing lasted more than a few minutes at best.

And then, one day, Moira was simply gone. Liddy fell asleep behind her one morning in their windowless bedroom, and woke up that night. Moira hadn't moved. Her heart would never beat again.

She found a letter some years later after finally going through Moira's things. Moira had written it just a few weeks after she'd first been diagnosed, telling her everything. How much she loved Liddy, apologizing for keeping secrets. And asking Liddy to live life to the fullest, and do justice to her memory.

Though she never recovered from the grief, Liddy did as Moira asked. She lived. She enjoyed the new wonders of technology. She even tried to make those jello foods Moira had been so excited about, even if it would never get eaten. Her memories of Moira are fond, even if the warmth is tinged with sadness to this day.

#fact

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theecollector · 1 year

Text

𝐛𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐬: name: charles alexander muntz nicknames: muntz, the collector age: 57 pronouns: he/him dob: november 15, scorpio species: vampire/hunter occupation: scientist, hunter, collector, inventor

𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲: positive traits: charismatic, intelligent, determined, resilient negative traits: manipulative, amoral, vicious, lacks empathy

𝐚𝐛𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐞𝐬: multilingual, hand-to-hand combat, typical vampire capabilities and weaknesses

𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐬:

charles is the only living child of affluent hunter alistair muntz and his wife jeanette, also from a prominent hunting family. he was born two years after the loss of their infant daughter, so jeanette was very overprotective of charles when he was young. this quickly changed as he developed into a small boy and began to accompany his father on hunting trips. it was imperative that the male heir to the family’s legacy be well-trained from an early age.

the muntz family was known for hiring werewolves to work for the family. when charles was still a young man, his father branched out and decided to bring in some younger werewolves for early ‘rearing’. this is when charles met arthur. being that they were both young and this was one of the first wolves they had brought in in such a manner, charles became attached to arthur, and arthur became ‘his wolf’.

over the years, their relationship became one that was difficult to express. arthur was there with him while he raised other wolves and helped him to train the newbies for their many excursions. unlike his father, charles was unhappy with the simplicities of hunting. he wanted to know why these specimens were so sought after.

charles showed a high intelligence and curiosity from a very young age, and that was nurtured in him. by the time he was an adult and ready to go on his own, he knew more about supernatural creatures than his father did. he went on to pursue multiples degrees before returning to the family business.

in charles’ adulthood, arthur followed him to be the first of charles’ own ‘pack’. they began going on excursions to places far and wide for the most elusive of beasts. it was during these years that muntz’s collection grew considerably. also during this time charles and arthur brought in several wolves, usually teens, until one day when charles brought home a small child he’d saved after the massacre of the pup’s parents.

charles knew better than to get attached and, at first, he tried earnestly not to do so, but douglas proved to make this impossible. it was quick the way doug dug his way into his master’s heart, and it wasn’t long before charles started seeing himself, arthur, and the pup as something of a makeshift family. it was certainly more family than charles had ever foreseen for himself. for a while, things went well until the incident. after arthur mauled a hunter, it was a plea for the wolf’s life. eventually, in the whirlwind of justice, arthur got away, and this loss tore through charles so acutely that he felt ripped in half.

instead of pulling away from douglas, charles reinforced his favoritism for the pup and began to push the boy to his limits. douglas was his legacy, but he was also arthur’s legacy, and charles had to make that count. there were years of training and excursions with the pack where charles’ collection and reputation grew. charles was hellbent on having something that mattered.

things were as smooth as they could be for a long time, then the unthinkable happened. charles was attacked by a near starving vampire while out on a hunting trip with doug. the boy did everything he could to help but the bloodsucker pulled charles down into a cavern in her bloodlust and nearly drained him. along with the injuries he sustained, charles was certain that he was going to die, and as dying men are wont to do, he began to lament about the son he never called son and the one he let get away. seemingly, this touched the heart of the now satiated vampire who gave charles the choice between a quicker death or immortality. there was only one choice.

during his recovery and adjustment period, charles knew that his boy was well taken care of in their home of los santos where he had a home for doug in greenhaven. his will officially absolved any of his other wolves from their duties for them and allotted them each a predetermined sum of money. only doug was the one to be looked after in the long-run.

now that some time has passed and charles feels as if he has adjusted to his new lifestyle, he’s ready to come back and not only reclaim his empire but further his legacy and hold on tighter to the one relationship he has left.

#pinned post #you won't find anything worthy of redeeming (about)

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catolinewsdailyreadings · 3 months

Text

Monday of the Fourth Week in Ordinary Time

Readings of Monday, January 29, 2024

Reading 1

2 SM 15:13-14, 30; 16:5-13

An informant came to David with the report, “The children of Israel have transferred their loyalty to Absalom.” At this, David said to all his servants who were with him in Jerusalem: “Up! Let us take flight, or none of us will escape from Absalom. Leave quickly, lest he hurry and overtake us, then visit disaster upon us and put the city to the sword.”

As David went up the Mount of Olives, he wept without ceasing. His head was covered, and he was walking barefoot. All those who were with him also had their heads covered and were weeping as they went.

As David was approaching Bahurim, a man named Shimei, the son of Gera of the same clan as Saul’s family, was coming out of the place, cursing as he came. He threw stones at David and at all the king’s officers, even though all the soldiers, including the royal guard, were on David’s right and on his left. Shimei was saying as he cursed: “Away, away, you murderous and wicked man! The LORD has requited you for all the bloodshed in the family of Saul, in whose stead you became king, and the LORD has given over the kingdom to your son Absalom. And now you suffer ruin because you are a murderer.” Abishai, son of Zeruiah, said to the king: “Why should this dead dog curse my lord the king? Let me go over, please, and lop off his head.” But the king replied: “What business is it of mine or of yours, sons of Zeruiah, that he curses? Suppose the LORD has told him to curse David; who then will dare to say, ‘Why are you doing this?’” Then the king said to Abishai and to all his servants: “If my own son, who came forth from my loins, is seeking my life, how much more might this Benjaminite do so? Let him alone and let him curse, for the LORD has told him to. Perhaps the LORD will look upon my affliction and make it up to me with benefits for the curses he is uttering this day.” David and his men continued on the road, while Shimei kept abreast of them on the hillside, all the while cursing and throwing stones and dirt as he went.

Responsorial Psalm

PS 3:2-3, 4-5, 6-7

R./ Lord, rise up and save me.

O LORD, how many are my adversaries! Many rise up against me! Many are saying of me, “There is no salvation for him in God.” R./ Lord, rise up and save me.

But you, O LORD, are my shield; my glory, you lift up my head! When I call out to the LORD, he answers me from his holy mountain. R./ Lord, rise up and save me.

When I lie down in sleep, I wake again, for the LORD sustains me. I fear not the myriads of people arrayed against me on every side. R./ Lord, rise up and save me.

Gospel

MK 5:1-20

Jesus and his disciples came to the other side of the sea, to the territory of the Gerasenes. When he got out of the boat, at once a man from the tombs who had an unclean spirit met him. The man had been dwelling among the tombs, and no one could restrain him any longer, even with a chain. In fact, he had frequently been bound with shackles and chains, but the chains had been pulled apart by him and the shackles smashed, and no one was strong enough to subdue him. Night and day among the tombs and on the hillsides he was always crying out and bruising himself with stones. Catching sight of Jesus from a distance, he ran up and prostrated himself before him, crying out in a loud voice, “What have you to do with me, Jesus, Son of the Most High God? I adjure you by God, do not torment me!” (He had been saying to him, “Unclean spirit, come out of the man!”) He asked him, “What is your name?” He replied, “Legion is my name. There are many of us.” And he pleaded earnestly with him not to drive them away from that territory.

Now a large herd of swine was feeding there on the hillside. And they pleaded with him, “Send us into the swine. Let us enter them.” And he let them, and the unclean spirits came out and entered the swine. The herd of about two thousand rushed down a steep bank into the sea, where they were drowned. The swineherds ran away and reported the incident in the town and throughout the countryside. And people came out to see what had happened. As they approached Jesus, they caught sight of the man who had been possessed by Legion, sitting there clothed and in his right mind. And they were seized with fear. Those who witnessed the incident explained to them what had happened to the possessed man and to the swine. Then they began to beg him to leave their district. As he was getting into the boat, the man who had been possessed pleaded to remain with him. But Jesus would not permit him but told him instead, “Go home to your family and announce to them all that the Lord in his pity has done for you.” Then the man went off and began to proclaim in the Decapolis what Jesus had done for him; and all were amazed.

0 notes

sabineelectricheart · 2 years

Text

Pop-Up Girl

Summary: Leo’s computer malfunctions and sends him to a certain stream by accident. The performer quickly enraptures his attention.

Rating: MA - Content is only suitable for mature adults. May contain explicit language and adult themes.

Words: 3200

Notes: This is a lot of fun. I hope you enjoy it too!

Pop-up ads were Leo’s worst nightmare.

As a lawyer, he had a sensitive role in his family’s corporation, and so he is careful and keen about security, both of his self, his documents and his data. Yet, no matter how many fancy antivirus software the tech department installed on his laptop, he always managed to click somewhere he was not supposed to and next thing he knew, there was a picture of an erect penis on his screen.

Is the only purpose of internet to have sex? Better yet, is every concoction of humanity’s unbounded creativity just one big plot to get people laid? His virtual experience seemed to point towards an affirmative answer.

These random porn sites usually did not irritate him as much, but that day he had to stay up working on a project and now he was stuck in a website he could not close, no matter how many times he clicked the small red “x” on the top right corner. While his knowledge of computers is, admittedly, limited, especially for someone his age, he knows that it was not supposed to be so, and he tried everything short of turning the power off. Regardless, it seemed compromised, and so it is best for the technicians to check it out for leaks before he uses it again.

Therefore, the young man had called someone from the IT department and solicited a new laptop to be delivered post haste to his office, but despite due priority being given, it was going to take around thirty minutes for it to arrive.

Leo poured himself another cup of coffee and looked disgusted at his screen, where a blonde woman was playing with her breasts in front of the camera, with a large watermark at the top, which said “Live”.

Once again, he tried to close the window, but instead the damned thing opened a new one instead, making him roll his eyes backwards in exasperation.

When he looked at the screen again, he saw a young woman with long blond hair and big eyes looking at the screen with a small smile. Her gaze seemed so earnestly piercing that it felt as if she was looking right into his eyes, and he covered the camera on his laptop for a second just to make sure she was not.

As his hands fall to the side of the machine, the lawyer observes the subject of the footage. She was wearing a white baby doll while kneeling on her bed, her bare thighs looking incredibly soft and alluring. She was not touching herself but rather playing with her hair and giggling once in a while after looking at her screen.

His eyes darted to the right, where he saw comments from anonymous people appearing by the second.

As she read them, she propped up her thigh, making Leo blush instantly. He could not see her underwear, but the innocent way she had moved as if she had not figured out that she was showing more skin made his head spin.

A heavy knock on his office door made him come back to reality. His new laptop was probably back.

Leo quickly noted down the name of the user and the name of the website that had appeared in front of him before opening the door and taking his new laptop to finish up his work.

Soon enough, however, he found that he could not concentrate. A certain female figure lingered on the back of his mind.

*_*_*_*_*

That evening, watching that girl became a regular thing Leo did right before he went to bed.

After some quick research, he had understood what was the purpose with those called internet called cam girls, but the girl he had become so obsessed with did not meet all the criteria.

For example, he had not seen her naked, not even once. Every time he logged in, she wore lingerie that covered from her breasts to her bottom. She usually just chatted with the people that left comments and sometimes would show off the clothes she was wearing.

Everything was quite tame, in a sense, and he figured that it was not meant to be in the same vein as those erotic, full-nude shows that plagued his internet connection from time to time. It made him feel better about himself, and the subject of his interest.

It is not sex work, he reasoned, it is artistic. It is fine. He is in control of himself and the situation, he is still a moral and upstanding member of the community, not a pervert. Yet, he still felt embarrassed at the tent that formed in his pants after she turned around to show off a cat lingerie that had a tail attached to it.

As the lights go off in his room and he is certain that no-one can hear him, he may or may not be pleasuring himself with the images he memorized over the previous session.

*_*_*_*_*

Two weeks after his serendipitous discovery, Leo found himself again watching that model.

That evening, she was wearing a black lingerie set and was kneeling on her bed, a slightly distraught expression on her face.

“No, thankfully I’m okay. It’s just material damages, y’know?” She said, and her voice made his heart flutter. “It isn’t working anymore, that’s it. A lot of smoke came out and I had to call a tow truck.”

He paid attention to the comments as they appeared and he figured out through context clues that it was about her car breaking down. She proceeded to explain how much she needed it to get to work, as she apparently worked nights and there was no public transit, and that she still did not have the money for it.

“So, if anyone can donate some five pounds or something, anything, I’d be really thankful!” She shrugged with a sheepish smile that did not match with the website he was watching her in.

For the first time ever, he moved his fingers to the keyboard and typed a message.

user18368: ‘How much does it take to fix your car?’

He watched her eyes go to her screen and read his comment.

“Oh, it’s about two grand. So yeah, I’m hoping I can get some here and then maybe sell some of my stuff, I don’t know…” She answered, fixing the strap on her bra.

The big golden ‘Donate’ button at the bottom of the screen seemed to get bigger and brighter as he carefully weighed his options.

Leo is not an impulsive person, but seeing her sad face and the fact that two thousand pounds was not a lot of money for him to begin with, he impulsively took out his credit card and filled out the form to send her the money she needed so much.

The look of surprise on her face was enough for him to smile when she saw his donation appear on the screen. The cute way she covered her mouth with her hands as she bounced on the bed with glee was all he needed to stop asking what the other people in the chat meant by calling him a ‘simp’.

She thanked him, or rather, she thanked user18368 for the donation and said she would call him later for his reward.

Reward?

His eyes flickered to the stop of the screen where he saw the title of that day’s stream: ‘Emergency giveaway: 1 on 1 session! <3’.

Oh.

Not even five minutes after she finished the stream, he saw a small pop-up on the website that said someone named ‘C.A.’ wanted to chat. Time to face the music, it seemed.

Leo swallowed thick and clicked on the ‘Accept’ button, not sure what he was doing. The girl appeared on his screen and waved at him, the most beautiful smile he had ever seen on her face.

“Hey! Thanks again for the car money. I owe you my life!” She joked, bouncing a little on her bed.

Leo stayed silent. His camera and microphone were off, but she was still smiling at him, and unlike the previous times, she was smiling just at him.

“Hey, you don’t have to turn on your camera if you’re uncomfortable, but maybe you could turn your mic on? I’m always nervous some kid got here and I’m corrupting a minor.” She explained with a giggle, to mask the accuracy of that statement.

Obscene publication is a sexual offence that carries of two years’ imprisonment in…

Leo shook off the legal matters from his head and pressed on the microphone button. “Definitely not a child.”

The girl’s eyes widened a little at the sound of his voice, her cheeks blushing at the same time.

She bit her lip and then put on a smile again. “Okay, what would you like to do? Would you like me to do something you like?”

“No.” The blond man answered quickly. “No, I… I honestly did not know there was a prize behind this. I just wanted to send you the money you needed because I’ve been watching you for a while and I wanted to help out.”

“Oh, for how long?” She asked, curiously.

“A couple of weeks.” He said, embarrassed. “If that’s okay.”

“It’s totally okay!” She assured him, smiling again just the way he was starting to fall for. “I do not really do a lot of shows in public, but sometimes I agree to do other… Stuff in private sessions like this.”

She plays with her hands. He focuses on her movements, and the nervous haze that his mind was thrown in lifts slightly.

“Like what?” He asked, intrigued.

“Like, well, sometimes I tell them what I would like someone to do to me, y’know? Sometimes I play with myself a bit.” She said, her fingers stroking the hem of her cleavage. Leo felt himself getting hard at every move she made. “Or I watch them touch themselves. But if you don’t want to turn on your camera, it’s really okay. I can tell you what to do.”

“What to do?” He breathed out.

“Yeah. For example, I’d like you to lower your pants right now and touch yourself over your underwear. That is, if you’re wearing any.” She instructed with a cheeky smile.

Leo looked at his locked bedroom door, not sure what to do. He had never been one to enjoy these kinds of situations, and he does feel rather dirty for involving money in it regardless of his initial intent, but there was something about her that drew him to oblige to her every word.

She was waiting for him patiently, her innocent face being a sharp contrast to what she was asking him to do. Still, he started touching himself over his pyjama bottoms, his cock twitching at the attention.

“Mmmm, are you, by any chance, a little hard?” Her voice rang, making him look at the screen again.

“Yeah…” He muttered.

The man felt seen, exposed, like someone was going to catch him doing something indecorous. However, regardless of his hang-ups, he also could not stop himself from complying to her orders.

“I always take that as a compliment.” She smiled brightly, sticking her tongue out playfully. “Can you touch yourself directly now?”

Leo did as he was told, freeing his cock and starting to pump it. He let out a groan as he made contact with his erection and right when he was about to apologize, he saw her biting her lips.

“I like your voice.” She commented, playing with her black baby doll.

He could not answer, but he kept pumping himself, feeling somewhat proud she was reacting to his voice as well.

“Now, I do not want any fast movements. Just slow, like this.” She said, moving her hand on the screen as illustration.

He imitated her hand movements with his own, imagining for a second that she was there with him instead of behind a screen.

“Fuck…!” He hissed.

He wanted to go faster, but her hand was still moving slowly and he would not be the one to do anything but what she asked him to. He saw her biting his lip when he talked again.

“Okay. Now slowly circle your tip with your thumb, but softly, as if it was a small lick.” She winked.

The model waited for him to do as she said, his breathing becoming more ragged with every second that went by.

Leo’s deep grunts were making her squirm on her seat. How could someone’s voice be that attractive? She wished he turned on his camera, but knew better than to pressure him to do so. Closing her eyes, her right hand travelled to her front, underneath her lingerie and started rubbing her clit. She let out a soft mewl, her middle finger drawing circles around her clit, making her see stars.

“Keep pumping yourself, a little faster now.” She said, trying to ignore how much she was panting at her own ministrations. “But please, let me hear you more.”

With one hand, Leo brought his laptop closer to him, so she could listen to his voice better. He was never one to do these things. He had been thought better, he knew the proper way to act with a woman, but… The way she was slightly bouncing on the bed as she touched herself had caused a short circuit inside his head.

If this is going to make him a pervert, then he is happily the worst of the bunch, he decides.

“Keep going, keep going…” She whispered, a moan escaping her lips.

She parted her legs and even if he could not see anything, the sole sight of her hand rubbing against her while her face was contorted in pure pleasure was enough to send Leo over the edge. He grunted as he did so, staining his stomach with his release, as his eyes were still glued on the screen.

She kept touching herself, the sound of her client’s orgasm obviously affecting her, as her back arched as she kept her hand moving rapidly.

A dark idea crossed his mind as he saw her getting closer, an idea he might not have acted on unless he was sure she could not see him, like in that moment.

“Keep going.” Leo instructed her, his voice a bit hoarse as he was just coming back to his senses.

She opened the eyes and looked at the screen, her cheeks bright red, and nodded. In a matter of seconds, she was orgasming in front of him, and he immediately thought that he had never seen a woman more beautiful, more desirable than her. Even as she broke down, her face looked pristine, innocent, and the way she had not even undressed herself or seen him for her to come undone was making his head spin.

She inhaled deeply as she tried to regulate her breathing, a shy smile as she looked at the front camera.

“Sorry, I… Your voice is just… Really hot.” She muttered, rather breathlessly and looking down at her hands.

“It's okay. You’re very enticing yourself.” He replied, wishing he was able to pull her on his lap and hold her close after sharing such a moment.

She thanked him again for the money and Leo shrugged it off. The little wave she did to him as she said goodbye stayed on his mind for the rest of the week.

*_*_*_*_*

It was like everyone he met knew what he had done over a week ago. It felt like a big plot was brewing behind every eye he met on the street.

Leo knew they, whomever they are, did not, but that did not help from getting stressed out whenever someone looked at him for a second longer than strictly necessary. So much so that he formatted his computer all on his own, and when that was not enough, he broke it by slamming a hammer on the screen.

He needs to relax.

The girl with the platinum blond hair and big eyes was living on his mind, twisting and twirling the red strings he had there, only managing to confuse and pressure him even further. He had avoided her stream the last few days, wanting to de-intoxicate himself, he made sure that there was no way for him to access it, except for the slip of note paper that he wrote down the address in the first place. He could not force himself to be rid of it.

Good thing, too, since he is just about to crack. He prayed to a god he does not believe in that she will be on tonight when he gets home, and if she is not, he is going to stake out on that page until she does.

“We’re here.” Xander declared, as his chauffer stopped the car.

Leo and his brother decided to carpool that evening, not because of any environmental or financial consideration, but just because it was more convenient and efficient. Or it would be, if he was in any mind to pay attention to his older sibling while they discussed business.

They had a personal dealing to be resolved. It was supposed to be a short and simple family dinner between the set of half-siblings, a casual affair that his youngest sister Elise insisted upon, so they had the chance of catch up. Notwithstanding the fact that three out of four of them worked at the same office building, at the same company.

Taking into consideration everyone’s schedules and tastes, they had agreed to meet at a trendy restaurant not too far from their place of employment. Elise had assured everyone that they were free to leave with no hard feelings after at least an hour, but that their presence was mandatory. He plans to count down the minutes.

When he entered the salon with Xander, he immediately spotted Camilla and Elise already there, sat on a spacious corner booth on the far end of the restaurant. His oldest sister loathed to dine near the door or a window, as she feared harassment from media or former beaus. Considering the sheer number of restraining orders and libel motions he filed on her behalf over his short career as a lawyer, he conceded to the reasoning behind her habits.

After muttering a general ‘good evening’, he took his seat and watched idly as Xander teases Elise over something he did not quite hear.

“Now that the little princes are here, we can finally order.” Camilla said, rolling her eyes at them.

Leo ignored her, not having the energy to respond to that, no matter how much he wanted to point out that, contrary to community outreach, the legal department actually had to work hard. Good thing, too, as his foul mood would likely spiral it into a larger discussion.

That takes time, and he wants to get home.

His sister called over one of the waitresses, who quickly approached their table.

“Hi! Are you ready to order now?” She asked in a cheerful tone.

Leo did not even have to look up to know whose voice he had just heard.

*_*_*_*_*

Fire Emblem Masterlist

Conquest Masterlist

#fire emblem #leo

0 notes

cjsinkythoughts · 3 years

Text

Right From Left

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Reader

Word Count: 3085

Warnings: !FATWS SPOILERS!, Cursing, Zemo being a punk, Bucky getting a little scary, some feelings, Sam being his fantastic, amazing, caring for everyone self

A/N: Here it is! At long last! I’ve been waiting for this episode and it was…holy fuck. I barely have words. And I can’t start or else I’ll be ranting for pages. Anyways, I know this Part is a little on the shorter side - not by much, but it still is - and it doesn’t even cover half the episode, but I’ve had a long day and I’m tired, so I’m going to sleep. I wanted to stop before Walker entered the picture too, because then I’m just gonna get more riled up and I’m working later. I’ll probably have another part out today, and then I’ll finish it tomorrow. Unless I can finish it today. I’ll try, but no promises.

Feel free to rant to me about the episode or the show, too, guys! My friends and I have been going back and forth about it for the past few hours. I’d love to hear your thoughts! I think that’s all for now.

As always, this isn’t beta’d so please excuse any mistakes! Thank you for reading, be kind to yourself and others, enjoy this part and stay tuned!

FATWS Masterlist

cjsinkythoughts Masterlist

!SPOILERS BELOW CUT!

You were avoiding him.

When you first got to Latvia, he had pulled you aside, eyes wide and pleading. “Doll, listen-”

“I really don’t think right now is the time to have the discussion we’re about to have.” Shaking your head, you avoided his gaze, your stomach twisting into knots. It was too much for you to handle; you couldn’t focus on the mission at hand and try to unravel the emotions that were making your gut flip like a gymnast. There were too many thoughts in your head, and you needed a clear mind.

“But-”

“Once this is all done, and our lives aren’t in danger. Once we’re back home, then we can talk, okay? Just…please. Not here. Not now.”

And he dropped it.

It wasn’t that you didn’t want to talk about it. You just couldn’t. You had always been a ‘leave your baggage at the door’ type of person. Don’t mix work with personal. Not like you had much “personal” anyways when you first decided that was how it should be. And then your coworkers became family and your motto got a lot harder to follow. But you still followed it. And you would continue to follow it.

But that made you start avoiding him. Whether you meant to or not, everyone noticed, but no one said anything. Sam shot you a look when you didn’t offer to go with Bucky when he had to check something out. Zemo raised an eyebrow when he came back and, instead of immediately questioning him, you sat still on the couch, eyes glancing up briefly, before going back to playing with the strings of your hoodie.

You were paying attention to their conversation, especially when Karli Morgenthau was brought up, you just didn’t join in. Not even when Zemo mentioned the Avengers, eyeing you to see your reaction.

Honestly, you were tired, physically, mentally, and emotionally. Your shoulder hurt, your brain couldn’t process what the guys were talking about, and your heart couldn’t take any more hits.

It was something you’d been thinking about…you just thought it’d come after this mission.

“She will not stop. She will escalate until you kill her…or she kills you.”

“Maybe you’re wrong Zemo. The Serum never corrupted Steve.”

For the first time since he first walked in, your eyes met Bucky’s. “Touche.” Zemo pointed at Bucky with a pastry around his finger. “But there has never been another Steve Rogers, has there?”

But you couldn’t wait until after this mission. Not when he was so connected to it. “I think I’m gonna go home.” You blurted out before Zemo and Bucky could argue further, Bucky slumping down onto the opposite side of the couch.

The moment the words left your lips, Sam and Bucky shot up, staring at you in disbelief.

“Wait, hold up. What? Now? We’re so close-”

“Why? Is it your arm? Is it hurting? You should’ve told us-”

“I’m just tired.” You cut in, shaking your head. “That’s all. I didn’t expect this to be drawn out this long when you called, Sammy.”

Bucky’s hand twitched as he hesitatingly scooted closer to you. “Doll, if this is because what happened on the jet-”

“It’s not, Buck.” You tried to give him a convincing smile, but you knew by the look in his eyes that he didn’t buy it for one second. You reached over to squeeze his hand, and when you pulled back, he held on tighter, a sigh escaping his lips as he stared down at your linked hands.

“Okay…if you wanna go home, we can get you home. Just…” His head turned back to you, a pleading pout on his features. “Just…stay. Another day. Please. You can keep avoiding me, I won’t even say another word to you if you don’t want. But stay. Just for one more day.”

Chewing on your cheek, you finally nodded slightly. “Okay. One more day.”

His eyes lit up, before his face fell again when you took your hand back and curled into the corner of the couch. “Let’s talk shop, boys.”

“Okay. So, from my understanding, Donya is like a pillar of the community, right?” Sam easily changed the topic back to the situation at hand, giving you a reassuring wink when you smiled at him gratefully. “So when I was a kid, my Tee Tee passed away.”

Bucky screwed his face up in confusion, straightening his head from where he had it leaned back. “Your - your Tee Tee?”

Sam gave him a look. “Yeah. My-my Tee Tee, yeah.”

Bucky looked at him weirdly. “Who is your Tee Tee?”

The exchange made you giggle a little bit, shaking your head. “Bucky’s a city boy from the 40’s, remember, Sammy?”

“Fine.” Sam rolled his eyes. “When I was a kid my aunt passed away.”

Bucky gave a slight huff, making you chuckle again. You stopped when he smiled over at you, but your grin didn’t leave your face. Even when they were the ones to give you a headache, your fellas were damn entertaining, that’s for sure.

With a sort-of plan in place - the gathering for Donya being no more than a theory, but the only idea you really had - you stretched out from your spot on the couch, twisting to crack your back. “Zemo.” The man stopped his rummaging through the cabinets and looked over his shoulder at you, an eyebrow raised. “Go put some clothes on. We’ve got work to do.”

He gave you an unimpressed look, opening his mouth, but Sam beat him to the punch. “Do as the lady says, man. You’re already walking on a tightrope after you shot Nagel!” Zemo waved dismissively at Sam’s exclamation, heading into a separate room to change out of his robe. “That guy is gonna drive me up the wall.”

“Don’t let him get to that pretty head of yours, Sammy.” You hummed, standing up, wincing slightly as you stretched your sore shoulder over your head.

You could tell Bucky wanted to say something, the way he snapped forwards, hands moving down his thigh like he was leaning over to reach for you, his eyes locked on your injured joint, but, just as he said earlier, he didn’t say a word. But the part that made you upset was…you didn’t stop him. You didn’t tell him it was okay for him to talk to you. You didn’t reassure him that you weren’t purposely trying to avoid him. You simply moved over to the kitchen to get something to drink.

It hurt worse than your shoulder, but you couldn’t handle it. Not then. Not with such an important part of the mission coming up. So you didn’t say anything. You just sipped your water, switching into tactic mode as your mind ran through the scenarios of what could possibly go down in the next 24 hours before you went home.

*************************

Walking under the arch, you couldn’t help but feel saddened as Zemo told you about what the courtyard used to look like. Thanos messed the world up so much more than you realized and, as much as you hated to admit it, the Avengers did have a part in it. Not that they - you - were in the wrong, necessarily. You truly believed you did what anyone in that situation, with the skills and abilities and knowledge the team had, would do what you did. Or tried to do.

“I’m gonna take a look around upstairs.” Sam stated, looking up at the upper stories of the building, before glancing at Bucky. “See what you can find out here. And keep an eye on him.”

“I’ll come with you.” You said, turning on your heel to follow Sam. The back of Bucky’s gloved hand brushed against yours, and instinctually you turned your palm to link your fingers and squeezing. You let go quickly once you realized what you were doing, nearly tripping up the stairs to get to Sam, not daring to wait for Bucky’s reaction.

“You’re an idiot.” He stated simply as soon as you met him at the top of the stairs.

“Can we focus on finding Donya right now, please?” You grumbled, moving forwards cautiously, peeking around the corner. You frowned when you saw two guys at the end of the hallway, looking back at you and Sam warily.

“You need to hear what he has to say, cher.”

You sighed, rubbing your forehead. “I know I do. I know. But I can’t. Not right now. I’m just trying to get this over with first. I don’t want too many things on my plate. I might choke.” It already felt like you were drowning most nights.

He paused at your words, giving you a once over, before nodding. “Okay. I can respect that.”

“Thank you.” You told him earnestly. “Now let’s try to get something from these people.”

He nodded in agreement and you two continued forwards with your search. Room after room, people walked out before you could get anything from them, locking doors behind them. The Flag Smashers logo was everywhere, but you expected nothing less from a refugee camp that practically worshipped what they were doing.

Even when you did get a guy to talk to you, he immediately shut you down, leaving you and Sam dejected. The fact that the world had gotten so bad that these people couldn’t trust you and Sam - Avengers; people who used to be heroes and bring hope to others - it made your heart sink.

“C’mon, Y/N.”

“Are we wrong?”

He froze at your question, his lips pressing together. “About what, exactly?”

You shrugged. “I don’t know. I just…I guess I can’t tell right from left anymore. I always assumed that the Avengers were the good guys. That the actions we’ve taken in the past were us making the world a better place, but…Sokovia and Ultron. Germany and the whole civil war thing we had going on. The entire world and Thanos. We don’t truly ever win. Do we?”

“I can’t answer that for you.” Sam shook his head. “I can’t tell you what to believe or who to believe in. But I can tell you that we’ve made a difference. Steve, Nat, Tony…they made a difference.”

“But was it a good difference? Was it a change? There’s a difference between changing the world and just making it different, Sam.”

He blinked at you, nodding slowly. “Yeah. I guess you’re right. And I don’t have that answer for you either. But they tried. They did what they thought was right. No matter if it was or not. And isn’t that all we can do? Try?”

His words made you think back to the conversation you had with Bucky once he learned about John Walker, which seemed so long ago. When you told him it wasn’t Sam’s fault. That he was just trying. That he did what he thought was right.

And maybe he was wrong. But he made a decision. It was his decision. To do the right thing. And right then, not for the first time, you could see exactly what Steve saw in the man in front of you.

“You’re a good man, Sam.”

Sam grinned, slinging an arm around your shoulders and squeezing. “And you’re an incredible person, Y/N. Let’s go see if Bucky and the Baron got anything.”

You snickered at his mocking tone towards Zemo and nodded. “Yeah. Okay.”

*****************************

You didn’t like it. You didn’t like it one bit. So far, Zemo kept proving you wrong. Even when it seemed like he was about to jump ship, he came back. No matter how many opportunities he had to escape, he never did. And it was making you even more suspicious.

You stayed out of Bucky and Sam’s conversation, although you had to agree with Sam’s point, especially with the conversation you just had.

Your thoughts were running a thousand miles a minute, only to be interrupted by Zemo information about the funeral this afternoon. Guess a snake will always be a snake.

“And you, uh, didn’t think this was important information?” You questioned, eyes narrowed and brow pinched.

He shrugged. “You have it now, don’t you, princess?”

Bucky growled at the nickname, leaning back on the couch, threatening Zemo with the Dora Milaje.

You can’t remember a time you’ve ever been scared of Bucky. Maybe a little threatened and intimidated by the Winter Soldier, but never scared of Bucky. And when he stood up after Zemo mentioned leverage, you didn’t expect anything from it; maybe another choke hold or something. So the glass hitting the wall, the clench in his jaw as he spoke gruffly to the Baron, for a mere second, he kind of frightened you. Maybe it was all the emotions you’d been through the past few weeks or maybe it was the adrenaline that seemed to be pulsing through your veins 24/7 nowadays. Whatever it was, it made you flinch, bolting up as Sam did.

You left the room quickly, hearing Sam say something about making a call, hoping to calm your racing heart.

“Doll?” You sat up from the bed you were laying on, legs hanging off the edge. Bucky stood in the doorway, nervously shifting his feet. “I know I said I’d leave you alone, but…”

You gave the bed a pat next to you and he gladly accepted the invitation, padding over to sit besides you. “I don’t want you to leave me alone, Buck. You’re my best friend. I-I just need to take it one thing at a time right now.”

He nodded. “I get it. I wasn’t…I wasn’t coming in to talk to you about that. You said we’ll talk about it later, so we’ll talk about it later.”

“I appreciate that, Bucky.” You smiled at him, before frowning. “What did you wanna talk about then? Are you okay?”

“Did I…did I scare you?”

You blinked at his question, tilting your head. “What?”

Jerking his head to the doorway he explained, “just then. With Zemo. Your heart spiked.”

“No.” You answered immediately. You would never ever admit that he kind of did scare you. It was just for a second and you knew how his brain worked; he’d beat himself up over it, go over his actions for hours instead of getting the rest he so desperately needs and deserves. He didn’t need that on his conscience right now. “I wasn’t - I just…you startled me. I wasn’t expecting that reaction-”

“I didn’t like the way he talked to you.” He spat out, glaring at his hands in his lap. “And then the smug bastard thought he was gonna get away with holding back information like that and I just…I dunno.”

His hand came off his thigh, but he hesitated. Before he could put it down again, you slipped your hand under his, linking your fingers, running your thumb in circles against his palm. “Don’t let him get to you, Buck. Don’t give him the satisfaction.”

A sigh left his lips and he nodded. “I know, I know. It’s just…hard. After everything he put me through - put us through - I…I just hate that he’s really our only option.”

You frowned, shifting on the bed to face him, one leg bending beneath you while the other still hung over. “Why are you so obsessed with catching these guys?”

“I wanna do something right.” He murmured, playing with your fingers. “I’ve done so much wrong…I just wanna do something right. And I feel...responsible for it, I guess. In a way. It’s Super Soldier Serum. I thought I was the only one after Steve…” He froze at the blonde’s mention, giving you a side-eyed glance. You nudged him, silently telling him to continue, that it was okay to talk about him. “And Sam’s right, you know. She’s just a kid. So…I dunno. I wanna help. I wanna do something right. And catching them would help. It’s right. Right?”

You nodded firmly. “I understand where they’re coming from. Karli’s just trying to help the world. But she’s doing it wrong. And that I know for absolute certainty. Which is good, I guess. I was talking to Sam early and I mentioned not knowing my right from my left recently. It’s good I know something, huh? And for you it should be easy telling your right from your left.” You joked, tracing the gold lines on his metal arm. “I guess you’re just gonna have to stay besides me to help me remember.”

Looking up, you found Bucky staring at you with something you recognized in his eyes, but didn’t want to name. “Three hours, forty two minutes and thirty one seconds.”

“What?”

“That’s how long I didn’t talk to you. It was too long.”

You sighed, ducking your head. “Bucky, I’m sorry-”

“I’m sorry. For anything and everything I’ve ever done wrong. I won’t mention the plane or anything we’ve talked about until you bring it up first. I promise. Just…just don’t ignore me anymore? I'm not sure I can handle it for much longer.”

You nodded, watching your fingertips dance along his scruffy jaw. “I won’t.” He caught your wrist, opening his mouth, before shaking his head and closing it. “What?”

He shook his head again. “Not until you bring it up.”

“We will talk, James. I promise.”

“You don’t have to explain. I get it. I really do. It’s okay. As long as we’re okay for right now, I can hold it in a bit longer.”

You nearly asked him what he was holding in, but you quickly shoved the question out of your mind, knowing it would take you down a conversation you couldn’t possibly have right then. “How long do you think we have?”

He shrugged. “I dunno. Zemo just said that it’s this afternoon. Why?”

“I started reading The Great Gatsby on the plane. I’ve got it on my phone. It kinda reminds me of you. Do you-do you think we have time to read some? Only if you want, I mean. Like we used to do in Wakanda?”

He grinned and nodded, scooting up on the bed and flopping down into the pillows. You smiled back, following his lead. Once you were comfortable, your phone out with the chapter you were on, Bucky scooted closer, laying his head on your stomach, hugging your waist.

“Is this okay?”

Your fingers found home in his hair and you nodded when he looked up at you for an answer. “Yeah. It’s perfect, Buckaroo.”

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mirclealignr · 2 years

Text

i'm new with you | r.b

regulus x gn!reader

requested by anon where you and regulus stays at hogwarts over xmas and get to know each other

warnings; brief mentions of food, Regulus' parents being shite as usual

word count; 1400+

to be notified when I post, follow @mirclesjournal

Regulus was not used to staying at Hogwarts over the Christmas period. He was unsure of the feelings that circled through his foggied mind, and he began to wonder if he was not happier away from them than he was close to them.

All his life he’d sought their approval, and yet it never seemed to be enough for his family. They would accept nothing less than the best, as they would always remind him, which left him slowly coming to terms with his normality, the ordinary that passed by life at his side. What was the use in wishing to be more than he could ever be? The false sense of superiority the Noble House of Black gripped with such fervour led them to believe they were entitled to greatness, owed some sort of reward for circumstances in which they had no control over. But he did not believe in such falsities.

Regulus was tired. His skin was dry and stretched from trying to make way for a new person to inhabit it, someone far more impressive than he was or would ever be. But it was his skin, his heart and his brain, and he was done giving it up to a version of him that would never be worthy of it.

As he walked through the halls of the school he’d finally accepted as home, he smiled softly to himself in the new found tranquillity he had granted himself to enjoy. Occasionally, a professor would greet him in the halls with a small look of pity, unbeknownst to his gratitude for being allowed to stay. There were not many students however, at least none that he recognised, but he was not so afflicted by this, for he had now the time to get to know himself for who he really was.

He thought this learning was to commence over dinner, but it seemed that was not to be the case. He was accompanied by another in his year who had smiled brightly upon seeing a familiar face in the Great Hall. He was not disappointed to have company, as he thought he might have been, and he waved them over silently.

You didn’t know Regulus well, but you knew him well enough not to be confused by his offer. In the few lessons you shared together, you were often given seats in close proximity and had the pleasure of exchanging conversation with one another, even eliciting laughs from each other that needed to be stifled in the company of your professors. Sitting down beside him, you smiled warmly and asked him why he was not to go home this year. Regulus answered truthfully–his parents did not wish for his presence–he almost said it with pride.

“That’s terrible, I’m sorry,” you said with a frown, wondering what sort of parents would say that to their own child.

“I’m not,” he said earnestly, which made the prospect a little less sorrowful.

“Can you believe Christmas has come so quickly? I can hardly stand it,” you laughed, taking bits and pieces from the middle of the table for your plate.

“It came around fast,” he agreed, “But I like this time of year, so I don’t mind.”

“Oh, it’s not that I don’t like it, it’s just a horrid reminder of time. I always feel as if I’ve done nothing all year when it gets to Christmas,” you confessed with a smile, though you were telling a truth that weighed heavier than you cared to admit.

“I think there’s too much pressure on what we should do and in what amount of time. Even if you only read a book you wanted to this year, or perfected a recipe, or climbed Mount Everest, they’re all achievements. Yours and mine shouldn’t be measured against each other,” Regulus shook his head, dissecting and burning his parents' logic.

“Well,” you scoffed, “I guess you’re right, I’ll try to look at it that way,” you promised, believing you would strive to keep that promise.

Over the next week, you and Regulus ran into each other more often than not, and soon it became purposeful. You’d meet in the library and check out your favourite books together, go on walks in the rain and sleet, hoping for snow to purify the grounds and wipe the slate clean for new mistakes to tarnish. He was especially hard not to admire when his face was reddened by the harsh wind, and the wooly hat he wore only half way down his ears. Even by the fire, there was something about the way the warm light thinned his face and made his features sharper, yet he still looked youthful and good-natured.

“It’s a shame we didn’t know each other before, I would have bought you a present,” you said softly on Christmas Eve night.

Regulus turned his head to you and smiled at the sentiment and your honesty. He never felt as if the things you said were empty, on the contrary, they were full of genuity and truth, something of which he must learn to become accustomed. Sometimes, he forgot you weren’t saying things just to say them, and often looked back at his responses with a grimace. It was nature he had learned to take every syllable with far more than a grain of salt.

“I would have gotten something for you too,” he replied, “But I’m glad I’m spending Christmas with you, I think it will be the nicest one I’ve had in a while,” he confessed, twisting his body on the sofa and lying back across your lap.

“I’m glad I get to be a part of it,” you grinned, playing with the curls in his hair, twisting them around your finger and untangling them.

Regulus’ eyes closed as he enjoyed the sensation your hands in his hair brought; it was gentle and innocent, and it made his pulse race for miles in search of something he thought only you might be able to give him. He sighed heavily, but not from exhaustion or frustration, but from the serenity in which he found himself. Though he loathed losing the feeling of your fingers tracing his locks of hair, after a few minutes, he sat up and faced you with eyes wide open. He wanted to memorise each curve and dip of your face, how the light softened it, gave it beauty which he thought not possible.

“I wish you had been part of it sooner,” he breathed unevenly, cupping your cheeks with both hands so that he might rub his thumbs across your skin, a connection of which he had only dreamt.

It was your turn now to close your eyes, perhaps out of fear. But whatever the reason, you focussed on the pads of his thumbs rubbing across your cheeks and how the palms of his hands rested over your jawline. You daren’t open your eyes, in case Regulus saw something in them that made him turn away–they often betrayed you. Instead, you placed a hand on his chest as your breath revealed small trembles, though it did not deter him, for in his breath you could hear the same. And like in a dream, his lips met yours in a delicate embrace that was sure to shatter if faced with interruption. His lips were soft, tentative, but they grew braver with the feeling of your reciprocation.

And soon, it was as if you were the oldest lovers, who had naught left to explore of each other and yet still managed to find something new and igniting. Your hands were in his hair and his were trailing down your back, up your arms and over your face, desperate to remember what it all felt like when he inevitably pulled away. When you finally came up for air, his brows were still furrowed, but upon opening his eyes, his features softened when met with yours.

“Wow,” you whispered breathlessly, drawing a laugh from Regulus, a sweeter sound than you could have imagined.

“I don’t know what to say,” he admitted after a moment, still hazy from the embrace.

“Speechless? I’ll take it,” you teased, pecking his lips before nuzzling into him.

“I’ll come up with something,” he remarked, resituating himself so you were both more comfortable, letting his arm fall over your shoulder to keep you close.

“Eventually,” you laughed, and so did he.

#regulus black fanfiction #regulus black x reader #regulus black x you #regulus x reader #regulus x you #regulus black #marauders era fanfiction #marauders era x reader #harry potter christmas #harry potter fanfiction

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smartycvnt · 2 years

Text

Goofing

pairing: Rita Calhoun x Reader

prompt: 122. "What did I tell you about calling her the devil?" "That it's offensive to the devil?" + 123. "I heard that!" "You were supposed to!"

You moving into the city had always been a big deal in your family. Not only were you the youngest of your siblings, but your dad had become overprotective of you following Casey's move for college. Somehow, he managed to come up with a solution that was actually worse than if he had really made the visits himself, sending Casey to look after you. However, as you got a bit older and hung around Casey at functions and events, it became a blessing in disguise. If not for Casey always being around the corner, you wouldn't have met Rita Calhoun, who was without a doubt the love of your life.

"It is 7 in the morning, why are you in my kitchen?" Rita asked as she joined you and Casey. Sunday morning breakfasts were a staple of the Novak household, one that neither you nor your sister were interested in breaking. "Y/n, honey, we do brunches, not breakfasts."

"You do brunches, Rita. We do breakfast," Casey corrected. Rita rolled her eyes and moved past you to get herself a cup of coffee. Casey was busy at the stove, flipping pancakes and carefully making sure that the bacon didn't burn. She knew that Rita, despite giving so much shit, would eat breakfast with you too. "Hope you like scrambled eggs."

"I'd ask for something fancier, but I doubt they teach that in whatever home ec class you took back in Virginia," Rita teased. You swatted at Rita, who seemed very pleased with herself.

"You know, of all the people at the DA's office you could have hooked up with, you didn't have to pick the devil incarnate," Casey said to you. Rita rolled her eyes, muttering something about it being an easy shot.

"What did I tell you about calling her the devil?" you snapped. Quite a few people had been giving Rita shit about switching sides to defense, and you knew that Casey didn't mean it like that, but Rita didn't necessarily.

"That it's offensive to the devil?" Casey looked at you earnestly, as if she wasn't being a pain in your ass. Rita laughed at the genuine frustration and annoyance written clearly on your face. She was always a little in awe of how easily Casey pushed your buttons, it was somewhat inspirational in a way. "Calm down, I'm joking. Rita knows that, we're buddies. We joke about things Y/n."

"We are not buddies," Rita told her. There was a hint of lightheartedness in her voice, a subtly that Casey usually wouldn't have picked up on. However, her own choice of romantic partner reminded you quite a bit of Rita in a lot of ways.

"Funny. You and Liz really must crack each other up," Casey deadpanned.

"More than you do," Rita muttered under her breath and into her coffee cup.

"I heard that!" Casey shouted as she turned around. For a moment, you were scared of an actual confrontation between the two of them, but then Rita just started laughing.

"You were supposed to!" Rita called back as she walked away. You glanced between the two of them. Casey went right back to cooking, and you snuck off to check on Rita.

"Can you two please be nice to each other?" you asked her. Casey had gotten the same speech when she'd arrived at your door with paper bags full of groceries at 6 AM, although hers was less eloquent.

"I am being nice to her. She shows up first thing in the morning and steals my precious alone time with you," Rita said. You pouted and Rita relented. "Okay, I'll be her buddy for today. Although, I'm sure she wants to get out of here just as quickly as I want her gone."

"Actually, after breakfast we're picking my dad up at the airport and taking him to the batting cages. You're welcome to join us, Liz will be there too," you offered. Rita pulled a face, but it was masked when she noticed the nervous look on your own.

"Yeah, I'll play nice with Casey and be uber charming at the cages," Rita promised. You smiled and pressed a kiss to her lips. Rita pulled you onto her lap and held your body against hers, absolutely refusing to let you get more than a couple inches away from her.

"Breakfast is read- oh gross!" Casey exclaimed overdramatically, as if that was the worst thing she'd ever seen. Rita just laughed as you got off of her lap and walked over to the table. You were getting your plate ready when you looked up to see Rita press a kiss to Casey's cheek. "Are you happy? Did doing that make you happy? Are you satisfied with yourself?"

"You seem pretty annoyed, so I guess I am," Rita said with a smile. Casey tossed a towel at her, which hit Rita's arm. "Why is it damp?"

"Kitchen gets hot." You knew Casey was joking, but you kept it to yourself, enjoying the scandalized look on Rita's face.

"Liz isn't going to stay long if you two keep this up all day," you warned.

"Why do you think I'm getting it all out now?" Casey asked you. You rolled your eyes at her and scooted over so Rita could closer to you.

#rita calhoun #rita calhoun imagines #rita calhoun imagine #rita calhoun x reader #svu imagine #svu imagines #svu #svu x reader

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theshelbyclan · 3 years

Text

Horse Thieves

Summary: The Shelby siblings are still building their imperium, and they need a horse to do it.

(Gif by @madshelby)

A/N: I asked around a bit and people wanted to read a lot more about Teddy, so I decided to use this request by one lovely anon: Hello! I've never done a request for a fic before so please excuse me if this isn't the right way to do it 🙈 But I noticed your requests were open and read the prompts list you linked to for Shelby sister prompts - so can I request something that incorporates 7.“car. Now”, 8.“what story do you want tonight” and 14.“your heading the right way for a smacked backside”. Thank you! I decided to base this on this idea I had in the longer Teddy series, where she refers to a time when she stole a horse with Tommy. So see this as a prequel if you will, set before the series. Words: 2773

*** “Whatever you do, you’re not using Finn.” “I won’t…” “I mean it, Thomas,” Aunt Polly warned, “You’ve only been back for five minutes from France and I will not have you endangering my nephew, after I’ve kept him safe for fucking four years.”

Tommy sighed, “Yes, I understand.” Polly looked at her nephew with a distrustful gaze, “Why do we need the horse?” “Betting’s down,” he slowly lit a cigarette, “We need our own. A horse that looks good. Convinces people to lay a bet.” She had to agree with that, “Where will you go?” “To the place where people most expect a horse to be stolen.” “Why?” “Hide in plain sight,” he pointed, “you taught me that.” “I thought I taught you everything…” Polly mused sternly. Tommy nodded slowly, “Maybe. And now I’m acting on it…” After a short pause, he said, “I’m gonna do it, Pol. I’ll make this family rich. Trust me.” “What about the little ones?” “I’m doing this for them, alright, so that they won’t have to grow up like we did!” Fire was burning in his eyes when he spoke, but Polly had never seen him quite like this. He was different these days. After pondering for a while, she said, “So tell me where.” Tommy took a deep breath, knowing she’d disapprove, “The fair.” “For fuck’s sake, Thomas!” *** “WELCOME TO THE FAIR!” Arthur bellowed, which scared most people in his vicinity away, but it made Teddy, who was used to it, literally jump for joy. Arthur grinned broadly and lifted his little sister up onto his shoulders, shouting, “Now look here, sweet girl, this is where we bloody come from and don’t you forget it!” “Arthur, can I have a candied apple?” Teddy asked him, knowing he wouldn’t refuse her anything when he was in a mood like this. “You can have all the apples, Teddy!” he replied with a grand gesture. John came walking besides them and quietly said to his brother, “They’re here.” “Good,” Arthur said uncharacteristically gently, and he lifted Teddy off his shoulders again, “Tommy’s in place.” “What about Finn, Arthur?” he said, playing with his toothpick. Arthur winked at his suddenly much younger brother, “Don’t worry, brother. He’s off playing with the Boswell kids. He’ll be no bloody trouble.” John grinned down at Teddy, “Unlike this one!” “You know why, John?” Teddy asked cheekily, “Because Finn is like Arthur, but I am like you!” John laughed manically out loud and Arthur bellowed, “She’s fucking right!” “How about that apple, Arthur?” Teddy asked innocently, quickly adding a, “Please?” “Wait here, princess.” As they continued walking, John took Teddy’s hand in his and said to her, “Look at all the horses, Teddy. Maybe one day you could have one of your own.” “But I already have the pony you gave me when you came back,” she looked up with adoring eyes. It was no secret that Teddy had four heroes in life, and those were her brothers. He looked down, “Yeah, but one day you’ll have a horse. Promise.” “John?” she asked, suddenly serious, “You won’t go away again, will you?” “Go where? Why would I leave my favourite little girl!” “You did before…” John stopped and turned to her, “Listen, that was the war… You know I don’t like talking about that…” “I know…” “But the war’s over. No more fucking mud for us, alright?” he said earnestly. He tried desperately to hide the pain he felt. Teddy nodded. “I’m sorry,” John blurted out all of a sudden, “I’m sorry we left you. We didn’t know… what it’d be… we thought it would be…” he simply couldn’t find the words. “I know,” she interrupted him in a high voice, “It’s okay. Just don’t do it again, alright?” “Alright,” he smiled. Then he changed his tone again, happy to switch subjects, “Now, what story do you want tonight?” “One about a horse!” “How about we get you a real one?” John suggested light-heartedly.

Teddy giggled because she thought he was joking, slipped her hand into his again and started skipping. Then she looked over at Arthur, who was just in the process of stealing an apple for her. It was good to have her brothers back again.

“Teddy?” John asked, “think you could do something for me?” “Like what?” “Tommy needs our help.” “With what?” her eyebrows shot up. John coughed once and waited for Arthur to join them, “Eat your apple. And listen, Tommy needs us to help him with something.” Mouth full of candied apple, “whaff kinf of somefingff?” “Just do as we tell you to,” John explained, “and then Tommy’ll tell you what to do.” Arthur nodded, “He’s already instructed us.” “Arthur,” John became unsure, “Are we really involving our eight-year-old sister in this?” “She’ll be fine, John-boy! She’s fucking smart, she is.” “I am,” Teddy replied proudly. The candied apple was nearly gone already.

“Alright, Teddy-girl, you listen to me, yeah?” John bend down to her level, “I need you to pretend you got lost, or maybe ask for help, or cry! Can you cry?” Teddy sniffled a little, “I’m not sure,” she then said in her normal voice. “Don’t worry if you can’t! Just scream a lot, alright?” “Wait!” she said, “Give me a second….” And she pouted her lips again, scrunched up her nose and suddenly tears were falling down her cheeks. “Bloody hell…” Arthur mumbled, as he turned to John, “you fucking created a monster.” “I’m crying!” Teddy said triumphantly through her tears, “Now what?” John shook her head to banish the emotions he felt over seeing his baby sister cry, “Go to Tommy.” Teddy quickly darted off and went in search of her other brother. When she found him, she announced herself with, “Look, Tommy, real tears!” “What the fuck?” Tommy replied in shock, “What happened, tell me now!” “Nothing!” she quipped, “John made me.” “I’ll fucking kill him,” her brother said automatically, “Did he throw you up in the air again?” Teddy grinned, “No, and besides that doesn’t make me cry…” “It did when you broke your arm.” She waved a disinterested hand, “Fine. But I mean he told me to cry because you needed a disattraction! “Distraction.” “Yes!” Tommy knelt down and said in a hushed voice, “Alright, first things first, you can never, ever tell Aunt Polly about this, do you hear me?” Teddy nodded obediently. “I mean it Teddy. She’ll have my fucking balls…” A high voice replied, “Which balls?” He sighed deeply again, regretting his words intensely, “Listen to me, eh? Don’t tell Aunt Pol.” “I will,” but a vague twinkle had come into Teddy’s eyes the second she realised her big tough brother was scared of Aunt Polly too.

Tommy lifted up Teddy and she rested on his hip, hugged close by his arm. She could vaguely smell his hair, his cigarette and a whiff of horse on him. This was her brother, who’d been gone for two whole years. She was only little when he’d gone, but Teddy remembered she cried a lot. All she ever wanted at night was for John to play with her and for Arthur to sit with her and for Tommy to tell her stories. She and Finn used to curl up together and cry. But now he was home, not the same, but still home.

“See them?” Tommy pointed, with a smile playing about his lips like he used to have all the time before the war, “See that family?” Teddy followed his hand with her eyes, “Yeah, the ones with the man with the blue scarf?” “That’s the one,” he nodded, “I need you to distract them.” “Why?” “So I can take their horse.” Teddy turned to face Tommy, and as she grinned, his face lit up as well, “Are we going to steal the horse, Tommy?” Teddy whispered excitedly. “Yes.” She lowered her voice even more, “just you and me?” Softly, he planted a kiss on her head, “Can’t do it without you…” Couldn’t do any of this without you here, he thought, but didn’t say it. “Alright,” he continued, “I’m going to talk to the man with the scarf. Meanwhile, John and Arthur are going to pick a fight with some other men, over by the candied apples, you see?” “That’s why I got an apple…” Teddy mused, slightly disappointed. Tommy quickly got her attention back, “I’ll be talking to him about this other family I know,” he waved a hand, “it’ll be something useless, but I’ll get him to walk away. John-boy is itching to punch someone, so he will, don’t get scared, alright?” Teddy frowned, “I’m not scared of John.” “Now, you see that horse, the black one, by the water?” She peered through the crowd of people and finally caught a glimpse of the beauty. Her eyes lit up in a way that only the Shelby’s eyes light up when looking at a horse. “There’s two boys with him. I need you to go to them. Make sure they walk away from the horse.” “Tommy…” Teddy thought out loud, “Won’t they know it was us?” He smirked at his sister’s intellect, “No. They don’t know us. Besides, they’re feuding with another family here. There’s a war coming, but we won’t be involved this time. Don’t worry about it, eh?” “Why are they fighting, Tommy?” she was not letting it go so easily. “Because I made it happen.” Then he walked a few feet so that they were both hidden from sight, “Now, I need you to distract the boys, and maybe some of the women as well. Cry, if you can, and if anything goes wrong, scream. I know you’re good at that…” “Who will take the horse?” “Johnny Dogs will. He’s close by,” Tommy leaned his forehead onto Teddy’s, “Think you can do it?” “Yes!” “Not too scared?” “Never!” Teddy replied enthusiastically, which slightly worried Tommy, but instead he said, “Go on.” So Teddy walked out behind the tent on her own and started thinking sad thoughts, just to make the tears come easily later on. There wasn’t much need for them though, because as soon as she approached the boys who were washing the horse, one called out, “Piss off!” “Fuck you!” Teddy replied in a flash, “This is free land and I’m a free woman!” she heard Aunt Polly say that once, “I’ll go where I fucking please!” One of the boys pushed her and angrily Teddy shoved him back. Then the second one came for her, and Teddy suddenly remembered her mission. So against all of her instincts, she let herself be pushed to the ground and started howling as soon as she landed. Immediately heads turned and Teddy cried like she hadn’t done in two years, “They pushed me!” But somewhere from out the corner of her eye, she saw Arthur arguing with someone and John landing a punch, almost in slow-motion, and she knew everything went according to plan. “Did not!” the boy protested nervously, “she started it!” Teddy curled up a little and held onto her leg like it was hurting, while trying to make herself as small as possible, “It hurts…” “What have you done!” a strange woman called out to one of the boys, who shrunk visibly as soon as he heard her voice, “fighting little girls now, are you?!” “I didn’t, ma! She started it!” but before he could finish his sentence, he’d gotten the first smack around the head. One down, one more to go. So Teddy upped the tears and it worked beautifully: the second boy didn’t wait for his mother to hear, but decided to run instead. Slowly, Teddy started to calm down, because if she just stood up now and showed it was all fake, everything would’ve been for nothing. She made that mistake once with Finn, and she wouldn’t be doing so again. After about a minute, chaos had descended on the fair. Men were fighting, Tommy was making an already nervous man simply anxious and this side of the camp was almost deserted. But where was Johnny? Teddy got up and hid near the beautiful horse. And then she saw him: somehow Johnny had ended up in the middle of the fight as well. This could ruin everything! “Come,” Teddy beckoned, “Come here! I promise I won’t hurt you…” and much to her own surprise, the horse obeyed. She untied the reigns and like he’d always been hers, he followed her down into the river. Teddy swam a little, wondered for only a second what Aunt Polly would say, and then climbed up onto the horse’s back in the water. From there on, she made a quick decision and urged the horse on. The river was low and couldn’t be seen all the way from the camp, so she kept the route of invisibility. After a while, she spurred the horse on and he climbed the riverside, with the tiny load still on his back. From this distance, Teddy could still see the fair, but because of the trees she was certain they couldn’t see her. “Now what?” she asked the horse, because she hadn’t really thought this through. In reply it neighed. “Shh!” Teddy scolded, “you want me to get caught?” So she steered the horse by its manes and made her way to where the family car was parked. With some luck, everyone else would still be too busy fighting. *** “Teddy!” Teddy turned her head and saw her brothers running, with sheer panic in their eyes. “Where the fuck were you?” Tommy demanded. Teddy shrunk a little at the anger in his voice, “I didn’t know where to go so I went here…” “Car. Now!” Tommy fumed. “That was actually smart, Tom,” Arthur defended her. Tommy ran a hand through his hair and sighed, “I thought something happened to you… That’s why I tell you not to leave my fucking side!” “I’m sorry…” she whimpered and tears started forming in her eyes again. “Don’t even try that,” John joked, “We know you can pretend now.” Looking caught, Teddy tried to hide the smile she shared with John. “That’s it, Tom,” Arthur walked back and forth to get rid of the adrenaline still coursing through his body, after they found there little sister was missing, “We’re not using our bloody sister again, for anything!” “Agreed,” Tommy said at once. “I thought you wanted the horse?” Teddy questioned. Again Tommy sighed and he lit another cigarette, “No fucking horse is worth losing you over, Teddy.” And that’s when she realised he wasn’t angry, just worried. “No fucking horse,” Arthur agreed. “But…” she started. John interrupted, “Forget about the horse, Teddy, we’re just glad you’re okay.” “But…” “Besides, we can get a horse some other way, eh?” Tommy continued, “Might even pay for it…” “But…” Tommy held up a hand, “Stop interrupting me, Teddy.” Instead Teddy interrupted him, “But the fucking horse is fucking here!” she pointed beyond the car at the woods, “Look! I rode him here after Johnny didn’t show up!” “I’ll be fucking damned,” Arthur blurted out, “she rode the fucking horse here.” John burst out laughing and simply high-fived Teddy, but Tommy looked as stunned as Arthur did. Anxiously, Teddy waited for Tommy’s reply, occasionally saying things like, “Johnny wasn’t coming,” and “my tears were almost dried up,” and “it wasn’t really my fault, the horse just followed me!” “Teddy Shelby,” Tommy said finally, “you little horse thief…” “You told me to,” Teddy said pointedly, but couldn’t quite hide the pride in her voice. “Oh, so this is our fault, eh?” Teddy shrugged and put on an angelic face, “Well, Arthur taught me how to steal, John taught me how to cry and you told me what to do…”

He pointed at her, “You’re heading the right way for a smacked backside...” Again Tommy looked at the horse and then he coughed a short laugh, “Alright, you win. We’re all horse thieves. Go get your horse.” “Mine?” “Yours.” As Teddy got the horse, the brothers still couldn’t get over the fact that she just did all of that. “Before we go home, there’s just one more thing, Teddy,” Tommy said, “Tell me again what I made you promise.” “Don’t tell Aunt Polly about this.” “Or?” he said menacingly, hoping he still had some authority over her by usually being the one who punished her, when he wasn’t teaching her how to steal that is… “She’ll have your balls.” Tommy eyed his two brothers who doubled over in laugher, but decided to ignore that. “Good girl.”

*** Masterlist

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mochegato · 3 years

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Even the Losers

Chapter 7

Chapter 1 Chapter 6

Marinette rubbed her head as though the action might actually have an effect on her throbbing headache. It hadn’t any time she’d tried it in the last hour, but it gave her brain the illusion that she was doing something to help other than just waiting for the painkillers to kick in. The action also gave her something to focus on other than the pounding hangover from not getting nearly drunk enough last night. Because somehow despite the massive amounts she, Jason, and Roy had drunk last night, all of her problems still existed. Utter bullshit, that. And now she still had to deal with all her problems and felt like crap on top of it. Double bullshit.

She adjusted her sunglasses again, fighting the urge to squint because squinting hurt. Although honestly, she wasn’t sure which hurt more, the florescent lights, the sunlight beaming through the hotel windows, or squinting. She was sure there was some way to settle the glasses on her face to block out all light, she just hadn’t been able to figure it out. She now realized why people significantly smarter than her wore those godawful, ugly glasses that wrap around their head and cut out all sun.

She took a deep breath and braced herself for the full blast of a suspiciously sunny Gotham morning. Gotham has like three sunny days a year and one of them is today? What the Hell did she do to Tikki to deserve the last few days? She wandered out of the hotel still contemplating revenge. How does one get revenge against a god anyway? How many ways can she destroy cookies?

She didn’t get more than a few steps before she sensed someone in front of her. She weaved slightly to the left but quickly realized there was someone there too. She weaved to the right and finally looked up when she realized there was someone there. There were people all around her, taking pictures of her, shoving phones in her face as they yelled questions at her.

She stumbled back a few steps and blinked at the group of reporters that had apparently been camping out in front of the hotel for her. She quickly plastered on one of Adrien’s patented PR smiles and nodded to them. She tried to push through them, expecting them to move out of her way, as they did in Paris for Adrien. But reporters in Gotham clearly did not show the same respect that Parisian reporters did because none of them moved out of her way.

Her smile strained slightly as she looked to the one in front of her. “Excuse me, please,” she requested in the most sickeningly sweet voice she could manage.

The reporter sent back an excited smile. “Ms. Dupain Cheng, would you care to comment on your relationship with your family? Perhaps explain why Gotham hadn’t had the pleasure of your presence before?”

Marinette looked the reporter up and down. She looked at the group surrounding her, noting how they had closed the circle to the point of touching her. She’d been to raves with more personal space. She moved to push through a small gap between reporters, but stopped when they quickly closed the gap. Marinette gritted her teeth and widened her smile. “There’s a reason we’ve chosen not to speak about this and that reason was NOT to discuss it in an exclusive with you at this exact moment. Now if you will excuse me, I would very, very much like to get some coffee. I’m sure you can understand the difficulty of starting a day without it.”

She gave them a conspiratorial smile, hoping if they felt like they were in on the joke they would let her through. Instead, her response emboldened the reporters, who started shouting out her name and more questions.

“Will you attend more Wayne functions now?”

Marinette didn’t even know which reporter shouted the question to address them if she wanted. She huffed and decided to give up on pleasantries. She was hung over. She was hungry. She wanted coffee. “Why would people change a relationship that doesn’t involve you because you know about it?” she grunted as she tried to push through the cracks between people.

The reporters closed ranks tighter around her, making it impossible for her to break through without injuring someone, which she was sure was the plan of at least a few of them. Whether it was to get a more salacious story or to sue Bruce Wayne, she wasn’t sure. Probably both. She looked back to the hotel lobby hoping the concierge would see her predicament and help her, but he was determinedly ignoring the scene in front of the hotel.

She set her jaw and prepared herself to create a scene channeling her best imitation of an irate Chloe Bourgeoisie. She’d deal with the fallout later. Right now, she needed to get out of this situation before someone actually did push a little too hard and tiny gods decided to curse the city. She opened her mouth to yell but instead heard someone else’s voice boom through the crowd.

“I think my sister told you to leave her the fuck alone.”

Marinette looked around to try to find the source of the voice but couldn’t see past the wall of reporters. She didn’t have to wait long for him to push his way through the crowd like a wrecking ball, not worrying about injuring anyone as he shoved his way through. Jason stopped in front of her with a smirk. “She just says it in a much more polite way than I do.” He held up a bag and a tray of coffee. “I come bearing gifts so you don’t have to deal with this shit out there somewhere.”

Marinette shot him a grateful smile and turned back toward the hotel. “That sounds brilliant. Thank you.”

Jason winked at her. “I got you.”

They didn’t stop or even look at each other until the elevator doors closed behind them. Marinette leaned against the wall and finally took a full breath. She looked over to Jason with another grateful smile. “Thank you. I wasn’t expecting that and I…” She looked down for a moment to collect her thoughts. “I wasn’t prepared. I’ll do better next time.”

Jason’s eyes softened. The press was a lot for all of them to get used to. None of them had taken naturally to it, especially Gotham’s press. They at least had the advantage of starting young and knowing what to expect, not to mention since they were kids, the press didn’t have a lot of chances to get to them. Marinette had just been thrown out there without a life preserver. Bruce didn’t even send any guards. “Don’t worry about it. I thought you could use the save.”

Marinette laughed and narrowed her eyes at him. “That was a socially acceptable version of a kidnapping. I had no way of getting out of that without exposing that there is no relationship.”

“Should have just exposed it then,” he shrugged, not remotely nonplussed by her comment. “I just thought you could use some sustenance after last night.” He held up the bag for her as they exited the elevator and made their way to her room. “I know you must be used to fancy French food so I got a variety of food from the best bakery in town. And I didn’t know how you take your coffee or if you prefer tea so I got both and lots of sugar and creamer.”

Marinette giggled as she opened her door. “You’re not wrong. My parents owned a patisserie. I grew up on the best baked goods in France.”

Jason blinked a few times at her before setting the drinks and food on the coffee table. “That’s it, next family reunion is at your place.”

“Not so sure that’s going to be a thing,” she said quietly. She reached for one of the croissants and ripped off a small piece, popping it in her mouth. “Not really sure I count as family. That’s kind of been made clear.”

“Yeah well, we didn’t know and we’d like to get to know you, if you’re okay with it,” he said biting off a chunk of cheese Danish. “Look, I’m not looking for family dinners and brunches and shit, I just… want to make sure you’re okay.” He looked up at her earnestly for a moment before his eyes turned mischievous. “Although if you grew up in a bakery, I might want all that at your parents’ place.”

“At least you’re asking. That’s something anyway,” she grumbled as she took another small bite.

“Speaking of family, where is model boy?”

Marinette puckered her lips in disapproval as she watched the crumbs fall from Jason’s mouth as he spoke. She looked away before she snapped at him. “He and Max went apartment hunting.”

“Without you?” Jason asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Neither of them were suffering from a raging hangover that took double the normal dosage of painkillers just to take the edge off of,” she said pointedly.

“Coffee,” Jason grunted, motioning toward the coffee. “Lots of coffee and food and water.” He pushed the bag toward her. “Not the bird bites you’ve been taking.”

She studied the croissant in front of her with a furrowed brow as though it had some kind of answers for her. She nearly dropped it when she heard a knock on the door. She looked through the peephole and gasped, flinching back from the door. Jason immediately jumped up and ran over to her. “What is it? Another reporter?”

“No,” Marinette rasped out, her eyes never leaving the door. “Worse.” Her heart started racing and her breathing became labored. She wasn’t ready for this. She wasn’t ready to speak with him. What was she supposed to say? How was she supposed to speak with him? She didn’t even know how she felt yet. She hadn’t sorted through this all yet. Tears threatened to fall from her eyes. She wasn’t ready. This was happening too fast.

She flinched visibly when he knocked again. He’d had time to prepare. He’d had time to think this through. He knew how he felt about this. He’d had time to plan and prepare. She had none of that and here he was on her doorstep. He knew about her and she knew nothing about him. He was ready and she wasn’t given that chance.

She was just expected to deal with it. She was just expected to handle it. She was just expected to accept it. He’d created this entire situation and she was left to pick up the pieces and move on. And now he was here. He was on her figurative doorstep in person and now she had to deal with it, on his timetable, according to his preference, because yet again it all had to be done on his terms. Her preferences didn’t matter. Her feelings didn’t matter. Her opinion didn’t matter.

“Want me to kick their ass out?” Jason offered already reaching for the handle.

Marinette shook her head and let out a calming breath. He thinks he can come in after twenty years gone and act like everything is fine and expect her to play nice, he has another thing coming. He wanted a detached relationship? She could do that. She’d seen it enough growing up with Adrien and Chloe’s parents. She knew how to play the game.

She shook her hands to get the tension out before finally reaching out to open the door. “Mr. Wayne. This is an unexpected pl… experience,” she stuttered. She mentally grimaced. She was showing weakness. She needed to be strong. She plastered on a clearly fake smile. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of being weak. She wouldn’t cry for him. She hadn’t cried because of him in the twenty years he’d been absent, she wouldn’t do it now.

Bruce took a breath. “Marinette…” He froze for a second. He hadn’t thought hard enough about this. He knew what he wanted to say, what he wanted to tell her, but he hadn’t thought about how to tell her, how to lead into it. “I was hoping to speak with you,” he rushed out, wincing internally at the sound of it.

“Well, that’s a first,” she scoffed before she could stop herself. She slapped her hand over her mouth and mentally berated herself. What was she doing? She was supposed to be calm not cruel. She was losing this game!

Jason grinned and propped his arms behind his head as he kicked out his legs, the very picture of relaxed. “I like her. I’m keeping her.”

Marinette shot him an appreciative smile but Bruce did a double take, frowning at the sight. His mind raced as to what it meant that Jason was there. Was it good? It was good, wasn’t it? She was getting close to one of her brothers already. But that brother was Jason, and despite the fact that he loved Jason, he was well aware their relationship was still contentious at best. Not exactly the best brother for her to get close to. And he was already encouraging her hostility against him. Not that he didn’t deserve it, he knew he did, it was just that any of the other brothers would help mitigate that hostility. Jason would fan it. “Jason, what are you doing here?”

“Brought baked goods and coffee,” he answered casually, a smirk making its way onto his face. “You?”

Bruce let out a heavy sigh through his nose and smoothed out his face. Getting annoyed now would do nothing for his goal. If Marinette was connecting to Jason, getting frustrated with him would just push her further away. “As I mentioned, I was hoping I could speak with Marinette about the… situation. I wanted…”

“‘The situation’,” Jason mocked shaking his head at Bruce. God was he always this bad with his kids? He thought it was just him. “Way to sound sincere, B.”

Bruce’s lips pursed until they were no longer visible. He didn’t need Jason sabotaging him right now. He was doing a good enough job of it on his own. “I’d like to speak with Marinette on our own, please. Why don’t you go home?”

Marinette’s eyes went wide and her chest clenched. She didn't want Jason to leave. She wasn't ready for Jason to leave. Once Jason left it was just her and him. Just thinking about it suddenly she couldn't breathe. Suddenly the air felt too thin and too heavy at the same time. No. She needed somebody else here.

Jason shot a look over to Marinette, letting his eyes pass over Marinette like he hadn’t been noting her body language. He let his eyes wander for a second before returning to Bruce with a tilt to his head. “No. I’m witnessing this, unless Pixie tells me to go home.”

Marinette could have kissed him… on the cheek. Because he was her br… it was complicated. But she was beyond grateful he had spoken up for her. She let out the breath she’d been holding and raised an eyebrow at him. “Pixie?”

“Small, violent,” Jason grinned at her.

Marinette laughed and playfully narrowed her eyes at him. “Fine, whatever, Goliath.”

Jason leaned back again. “Oh, no, that one’s already taken. By a dragon bat, no less.”

Marinette’s face scrunched in confusion. She tried to search through her Americanisms for what a dragon bat could be. It had to be a species of bat right? Maybe? But then again it was American English so for all she knew it could be a flower. “A what?”

“Jason!” Bruce admonished. He was really not looking forward to trying to explain what a dragon bat was or how Damian came to be in possession of one.

Jason rose up enough to grab one of the croissants and shove half of it into his mouth before he spoke. “I’ll introduce you sometime, or Damian will have to actually… which he won’t. I’ll show you a picture, you seem like the kind of person who likes terrifying animals as long as they’re fuzzy.”

“I… fair,” Marinette conceded easily.

“If I can bring us back to the topic at hand,” Bruce interjected loudly, cutting off any more discussion of dragon bats.

“Family bonding, right?” Jason cut him off with a pointed look. “Isn’t that what we were doing?”

Bruce glared at Jason for a few seconds, which did nothing to wipe the smug smirk off his face. Giving up on Jason, Bruce focused on Marinette. “At the gala you mentioned you didn’t plan on being in town much longer, leaving today actually. I was hoping I could convince you to stay a bit longer.”

Marinette examined him with a dour curiosity. She cocked her head to the side. “And why might that be? You don’t need me here to make an announcement that we prefer to keep our relationship private, hence they didn’t know about me.”

Bruce let out a deep sigh. That was fair. It was a fair response. Sabine had warned him she would be suspicious of him. “This isn’t for the public,” he assured her.

“Isn’t it?” She blinked a few times at him, her face blank. “Are you sure? It feels like it is.” She turned to Jason. “Doesn’t it feel like it is to you?”

“It does indeed,” Jason nodded in agreement, keeping eye contact with Bruce as he did.

“Jason…” he started threateningly.

“Oh, I’m sorry, were you relying on me to make fixing your fuck up easier for you? Wrong kid. You’re looking for Dick or Tim… actually I wouldn’t rely on Tim for help explaining why being an absentee father isn’t actually that bad.��

“Jason, I think it’s time for you to go home,” Bruce growled.

Marinette straightened up and moved between him and Jason. She wasn’t going to let him bully Jason for standing up for her. “I don’t think so. So far he’s the only member of my family I like.”

“Ooh, you should totally give Cass and Steph and Duke a chance too,” Jason offered with a faked enthusiasm as though the confrontation with Bruce didn’t just happen. He kept his eyes on Marinette but relished the increasingly frustrated scowl on Bruce’s face as they ignored him.

Marinette nodded. “I’ll consider it.”

“Oh and Alfred… and I guess Tim too. He’s a prick but he’s alright I guess,” Jason continued.

Marinette blinked at him. It was like a never ending list of people. An ongoing list of people he had taken in after walking away from her. A long list of people he’d cared about and for without having to be pressured into it by the press. A mile long list of people he wasn’t pretending to care about. “How many brothers and sisters do you have?”

“We have a lot,” Jason corrected her. They were in this together and he’d remind her of that as many times as she needed. “Alfred isn’t a sibling though. He’s like a grandfather.”

Marinette paused at that. She hadn’t considered that. Another grandfather figure. Another grandfather that didn’t want anything to do with her. Sure now Grand-père Roland loved her but for the first fifteen years, he’d known about her and didn’t care. Maybe it was her. It had to be her right? Two grandparents, that isn’t coincidence. That’s a pattern and the only commonality was her. She pursed her lips together to focus on something other than the tears welling up behind her eyes. “Sounds like the kind of person who definitely would have known about me.”

Jason’s eyes widened. “I… don’t know the answer to that,” he answered slowly.

Marinette nodded, slowly going numb. “So, what I’m getting from this so far is I have a another grandfather-type figure that knew about me and didn’t feel any kind of interest in me and a ton of people that my father decided were worthy of his love and affection when I wasn’t. So it isn’t that my father didn’t want to be a father, just that he didn’t want to be my father.”

“That isn’t…” Jason started. This was going down the wrong path. He was trying to show her he had her back, not remind her about the pain. But instead, now Marinette was getting hurt, remembering the pain. She’d lost her sass and impertinence and now was moving toward hurt. And she was blaming Alfred. Alfred was one of the only good things about being a Wayne!

“Jason! I think it’s time for you to go home. Now!” Bruce roared.

Marinette contemplated Bruce coldly, numbness consuming her fears and insecurities and morphing into cold, analytic contemplation. He was blaming Jason. Her frustration wasn’t because of Jason or anything he said. Her pain wasn’t because of Jason, it was because of him, because of his decisions. And instead of taking responsibility for it, he was blaming Jason.

Jason blinked a few times, no longer certain of his role in this interaction. He looked back and forth between Marinette and Bruce, noting Marinette’s hardening features. She was getting ready for a fight. He could see it developing, but he wasn’t at all sure Bruce did. He held up his hands in surrender and sat back down calmly. “I promised I wouldn’t leave unless Pixie asked me to. I intend to keep my promise to her,” he said calmly.

Bruce glared at him again and faced back to Marinette, a fake smile plastered on. “As I was saying. I’d like a chance to get to know you, if you would let me.”

“And how many members of the press did you want to be there when you do?” she inquired sharply.

Bruce sighed and rubbed his forehead. “That’s not fair.”

Marinette’s mouth dropped and she shook her head at him incredulously. “Wow. Way to pull the rich, white guy entitlement card. ‘I know everything about this situation has been unbelievably unfair to you, but now I’m being inconvenienced in the mildest way possible and I don’t like it,’” she mocked. She rocked back on her heels and narrowed her eyes at him. “Rest assured M. Wayne, I do not intend to speak out against you. Your reputation will not be harmed by me. Tell the press whatever you want. I won’t contradict you. You can relax.”

“Marinette…” he started, unsure of where to go. Everything she had said was so far from the truth, he didn’t know where to start. Her view of the situation was so skewed, he didn’t know how to put it back on kilter. His shoulders sagged in defeat. “This has nothing to do with the press. I had put plans in motion to get in contact with you before any of this started. Mr. Fox will confirm that for you if you don’t trust me. You seem like quite an impressive young lady and I would like to get to know you better, if you’ll give me the chance.”

His tone was contrite and quiet, but Marinette wasn’t done being upset yet. She wasn’t ready to move on and let go of the anger. “And if I wasn’t, you would continue to ignore me? If I was a problem child, if I had social issues, if I couldn’t find a job, you’d continue to treat me like I never existed? I’ve finally done enough to gain your attention. Oh thank you so much for letting me know.”

“That isn’t what I said,” Bruce rushed to assure her. “I meant to compliment you not say you had to earn my attention.”

Marinette pursed her lips and looked over to Jason. He was looking back at her with sympathetic, concerned eyes. She let out a long sigh and looked away from them both. “Look, I meant what I told the press earlier. I had no intention of you seeing me at the gala. I had no intention of anyone finding out about me. I didn’t even know there was anything to find out when I made the plan to come here. And I have no expectation of anything about our relationship changing.”

Bruce perked up slightly, but focused on keeping his body language the same, so she wouldn’t see the difference. That was an opening; expectation instead of intention. It wasn’t that she intended not to change it, it’s that she didn’t expect it. “I do,” he assured her, trying to keep the excitement out of his voice, keeping it calm and even. “I would like to change our relationship. I would like the chance to explain and try to start to make it up to you. If you would like to try.

“If you’re open to it, I can extend your reservation until you are ready to move on, or if you would prefer, you are more than welcome to stay at the manor. I would love to have you stay with us but I understand that may be overwhelming. Or, WE has have some flats available, with multiple bedrooms. You and your friends could stay there for a while. Your friend is going to need a place to stay while he looks for an apartment, right?

“I’ll leave the choice to you. Whether we pursue a relationship, if you stay, where you stay; they’re all your choice. Here,” he handed her a paper with several numbers hand written on it. “These are my numbers; office, home office, cell phone, manor. You can use any of them to contact me.”

Marinette took the paper impassively. She squeezed her other hand in an effort to keep the tremble from being too obvious. “Thank you, M. Wayne. I will consider your words.”

Bruce nodded, letting the very formal use of his name wash away. This was still progress. This was still movement in the right direction, even if it wasn’t as much as he would want. He knew it could take a long time. He knew he wouldn’t be able to fix this today. “Thank you, Marinette. That’s all I can ask for. And I’m sorry for ambushing you here. I tried to call and text you all yesterday to set up a time to talk in person so you could prepare but it seems like your phone was off.”

He let out a small breath seeing her eyes widen at his admission. That had to be a good sign. Maybe he actually said the right thing for once. He nodded to her and left her to think, hoping Jason would urge her to call. He seemed to want a relationship with her as well. Hopefully, he would realize this was the best way to get that.

Jason sighed and looked up at her as soon as the door closed behind Bruce. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m not. It’s… it’s a lot. I think I want to be alone,” Marinette said absently staring at the numbers in her hand.

Jason nodded. “It is. I understand. If you want to talk, at all, about anything. About where to drink in town, best burger, anything, give me a call.” He gently took the paper Bruce had handed her out of hand, letting her decide if she gave it to him or not. When she let go, he put his number on it as well. “I only have one number, but now you have it.”

Marinette nodded at him. “Thank you, Jason.”

Jason hesitated briefly. “For what it’s worth, if you decide to stay you should take him up on the flat. The hotel is stupid expensive and WE offers the flat to visiting collaborators all the time, so it’s not like it’s all that special… if you want to avoid being treated special.”

Marinette nodded at his words, barely taking them in as her mind tried to fight the numbing process. Jason watched her tentatively. “You look like a hugger,” he said uncertainly. “Did you… do you want a, um, a hug?”

Marinette looked over at him and blinked a few times, not sure how to take his words, partly because he seemed unsure of them himself, but partly because things were having a harder time permeating her brain right now. Jason took her curious look as doubt. “Oh come on. It’s fine. I wouldn’t offer if I didn’t mean it. Trust me. I tell Dick to fuck off enough when he tries to hug me. I have no problem saying no to hugs I don’t want. I’m offering because I mean it.”

Marinette blinked a few more times but finally nodded vacantly. Jason pulled her into a warm, comforting hug. After a few moments he pulled away. “It will all be okay. No matter what you decide, it will all be okay. And no matter what you decide, I’m here. Nobody’s replacing you as my sister. So get ready for some completely inappropriate Christmas presents this year.”

Marinette smiled absently at his joke, her eyes never meeting his. “Thanks, Jason.” She leaned against the door after she closed it behind him and slid down it, staring blankly at nothing. The room felt colder than it was before, but she couldn’t manage to care enough to get up and get a blanket. She thought there might have been ambient noise going on around her but none of it registered. Nothing registered. Not the numbing sensation that was rapidly overtaking her body from her fingers and toes up to her head until she stopped feeling anything. Not even the point she was staring at. She didn’t know how long she stared at the nothingness before black overtook her vision and she passed out.

Chapter 8

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