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mooodyblue · 2 years

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trying to get to you | 50s!elvis x fem!reader

summary: [REQUESTED] you were supposed to hate elvis presley, but what happens when you get swept up at one of his concerts and you find yourself having feelings no girl like you should ever be having?

wc: 3.2k

warnings: NSFW, minors DNI. religious!reader, mentions of god and church, fingering, virgin!reader, slight mentions of masturbation, semi-public maybe? idk things are done in a car, angst.

notes: requested by L! i hope i did your request justice even though it ends kinda weird. i may have to do a part two if y'all want it 👀 i don't know if i like how this turned out but i hope y'all enjoy 🫶🏼 apologies for any inaccuracies or mistakes. y'all know i hate rereading my work.

part two

>MASTERLIST/REQUEST<

»»————-　♡　————-««

there was this new male sensation sweeping the nation. a man, actually. his name being elvis presley. all the girls were talking about him–some boys too. you didn't know much about him until one day you turned the tv on to him performing one of his songs on a show, wiggling and moving his hips in a way you've never seen before. your mother immediately jumped at the tv, shutting it off quickly.

“y/n, you will not watch that man, listen to that man or even speak of that man. no one should ever be moving like that on television, let alone a young boy like him!” she shouted.

“you're right, mama. sorry, mama.” you nodded.

since then, you never listened or looked at him again. you spend most of your time reading or volunteering with your family anyway, so there would be no time for you to even look at elvis. keeping yourself busy was always your main priority in life. there was no denying that your friends poked fun at you for your lifestyle, but it was the way you were brought up. maybe they had a point, maybe you should get out more. there's more to life than books and family, right? you never really got to hang out with your friends because your parents wouldn't allow it.

you got invited to a local event one day, your friends practically begged you to go. of course, it took your parents some convincing. it was a local concert being put on for the community, it wasn't the worst thing you could go to. your parents finally agreed after setting a curfew, you'd have to leave a little early but that's okay. at least you were going. and who knows, it could be fun. you needed to have a little more fun in your life. the problem was, you didn't know who was playing. you forgot to ask, and when you don't ask, your friends don't tell you anything.

when you showed up to the venue, nothing could prepare you for what you were about to see. the name of the man your parents forbidden you to listen to or even look at. hell, you even hated him. ‘that boy is not seeing heaven!’ your dad once said. and you believed him.

“oh, no, no, no! i am not seeing elvis presley! you didn't tell me we were seeing him!” you exclaimed, refusing to walk inside.

“oh come on! he's not as awful as you make him out to be. he's so handsome, y/n! and so talented! just give him a shot!”

“absolutely not!”

“well, you're already here. what are you gonna do? sit outside in the cold all night?”

they had a point. they dragged you inside, securing you a spot up close. if your parents knew who you were seeing tonight, oh they'd just be so mad at you. they would ground you for the rest of eternity. this felt like a nightmare. it only got worse when he finally came out on stage, dressed in a simple all black suit, hair greased nicely with a smudge of eyeliner on his eyes. you just couldn't help but stare. you’ve never really gotten a good look at elvis nor have you even listened to any of his music, you shouldn't be looking at him. but god, you couldn't look away. the crowd was nothing like you'd seen. girls were pushing their way towards the front, screaming things your own father would forbid you to ever say and not to mention the things they threw on stage.

elvis was moving the same way you'd seen him on television not too long ago. he was singing with so much passion and so much energy, but those moves. gliding across the stage, wiggling his hips and getting dangerously close to the hundreds of screaming girls in front of him. it was almost too much. you were having feelings you didn't know if you should be having.

it all went by so fast. there was still time left before you had to go home, so you and your friends hung around a little bit. they were still talking about elvis. elvis this, elvis that. yeah, he put on a good show..and okay, he was very handsome. but no boy should be moving like that so publicly, it was too much.

you glanced at your watch, deciding it was time to part ways and make your way home. staying longer would have been nice, but all the elvis talk was driving you mad.

you began making your way out of the area. elvis was still on your mind. he was truly something else. you were going to have to pray for forgiveness tonight for sure.

“s’cuse me!”

oh. there was no way. you're just daydreaming right? because that sounded awfully like the man you've been thinking about for the past hour. you stopped in your tracks, slowly turning around and eyes widening as you're met with his deep, ocean blue eyes.

“sorry to bother you.” he rubbed at the back of his neck awkwardly, looking everywhere except you. “i saw you in the crowd and….w-well, you looked very pretty. i-i just wanted to say hi.”

you didn't know what to say. you weren't one to talk to boys, let alone a boy that you have a strong distaste for. “i’m sorry, i shouldn't be talkin’ to you.” you turned around and started your walk home again.

“well, can i at least take you home?”

you froze again, considering it for a minute. “why?” you asked, refusing to turn around and look at him again.

“um..it's cold out…?”

you looked at your watch and sighed. this was such a bad idea, but at this rate, you weren't going to make it home by curfew. maybe it won't be so bad. god would understand, right? you'll just have to confess at church tomorrow and it'll all be fine. you turned around and let out a sigh. “fine. but i am not speaking to you on the way there.” elvis let out a small laugh, muttering a small ‘we’ll see’ and allowing you to follow him to his car.

the ride home was interesting, to say the least. his presence was intimidating yet comforting. the way he spoke made you question as to why you hated him in the first place.

“so, what's your name?” he asked, ignoring your mention of not speaking to him. you said nothing back to him and continued staring out the window. “you really ain't talkin’ huh?” he shot you a quick glance then back at the road. “now don't tell me you hate me or somethin’, i saw the way you were lookin’ at me up there.” silence. he parked down the street from your house, just as you asked so your father wouldn't see you leave another boys car.

“now, wait a minute.” before you could get out, he gently grabbed your arm and you quickly turned your neck at him. “i don't know what i did wrong. whatever it is i’m sorry.” he released his grip from you. you almost felt bad. he was just being nice. “i just thought you were pretty n’ i just wanted your name, that's all.”

you sighed and turned your body to him, glancing at your watch then back up at him. “my daddy would hate that i’m talkin’ to a boy like you.” you said. “and i would never want to disobey him. i shouldn’t even be in this car with you.”

“then why did you agree to letting me take you home?”

you were silent again, still looking into his eyes. you'd already broken so many rules. there was just something about elvis that had you wanting more. having crushes or liking boys was never something you’ve ever experienced. maybe that's what this is, a simple crush. after all, you're an adult living with overprotective, controlling parents. you didn't have a reason for hating elvis. it's what your parents taught you. he had so much talent and was such a gentleman, treating you like nobody as treated you before.

“look, i don't wanna keep your daddy waitin’. you don't have to answer my question. just…just get home safe.” he patted your thigh, causing a soft gasp to leave your lips. he quickly removed his hand, apologizing. “i-i’m sorry. i didn't mean to touch you. that wasn’t very respectful of me, i apologize.”

that was the first time a boy ever touched you. you were almost ashamed to say you liked the feeling, even if it was for a short second. the way his long, calloused fingers gripped softly around your bare thigh just below the edge of your dress. the feelings you had while watching him on stage were coming back to you, slowly. “i’ve never been touched there before.” you blurted out, blushing.

“oh.” he cleared his throat. “‘m sorry again.”

“can you…um…” you looked down in embarrassment. “do that again?” he looked at you in bewilderment. nothing was making sense. first you didn't want to speak to him but now, you want him to touch you? it was giving him mixed signals.

“i-i don't-”

“please?”

he hesitated for a moment before placing his hand back on your thigh, giving it a gentle squeeze. his hand was cold, but the warmth you felt coiling from inside of you made up for it. it was almost comforting. “is this okay?” he asked.

you were shaking a little, anxiety was starting to creep in. you were supposed to be home 20 minutes ago. daddy was going to furious with you, especially now that it's after dark. the moon was already out and shining above you. but there was a feeling you've only felt a few times in your life. you'd touched yourself before, just to see what it felt like but it wasn't very often that you did. but with his hand on your thigh, it gave you the same feeling, almost a more intense arousal.

“you can go up a little more.” you mumbled. elvis crept his hand up higher, the hem of your dress bunching up and showing more of you. he rubbed his hand up and down your thigh in a slow, gentle matter. you looked over at his face. he was biting down on his lip, other hand squeezing at his own thigh to avoid touching more of you. he noticed your eyes on him, glancing up at you as you quickly moved your eyes back to your lap. his hand went up a little more, your panties slowly making their way into his sight.

you don't know what brought this onto you, but you craved more. you'd already gone so far with elvis, you might as well go all the way. “will you…touch me?” he felt himself twitch at the thought of giving pleasure to someone as pure as you. “oh honey, we don't have to. it’s gettin’ late and i know this isn't somethin’ you want.” he was wrong, dead wrong. you wanted this so bad. you wanted to feel his fingers on you, to feel how wet you were just for him. he was the first boy to ever make you feel this way and you wanted to make sure he knew of it.

taking matters into your own hands, you bunched up your dress and moved his hand to your own wet arousal. he let out a shaky breath as he felt the dampness of your panties. “are you sure? absolutely sure?”

“yes. please.” he asked you once more and you gave him reassurance once again that it was okay. he knew you'd never been touched before, so he wanted to be gentle with you, like you were fragile.

his fingers moved your panties aside and ran a finger down your wet folds as you let out a soft breath. “so wet and i’ve barely even touched you.”

he brushed against your clit, slowly rubbing it in small circles. “you ever touched yourself before?”

you nodded. “a f-few times.”

“hmm…” it was an awkward position, but he turned himself a little more towards you to move his other hand to your breasts, squeezing one softly as he continued to rub his fingers on you. you let out a quiet whimper at his touch. “‘m gonna be real gentle with you. tell me if it gets too much, alright darlin’?” you adored how careful he was with you. he often looked up at you, making sure you were okay and that he wasn't hurting you. he moved his fingers down, slowly inserting one inside you. it was an odd feeling at first, almost uncomfortable. but once he started moving it in and out, it became more pleasureable.

“oh my god.” you whimpered. “don't use the lords name in vain, baby.”

elvis inserted another finger, thrusting them both in and out of you as he continued to play with your breasts. you were so tight around his fingers, you couldn't imagine if it were him inside of you. he was a fidgety, twitching mess beside you. the outline of his painfully hard cock straining against the same dress pants he wore on stage earlier. you threw your head back, hips fucking onto his fingers as you let out quiet noises. “c’mon little one, lemme hear those sweet noises.” you wished you could kiss him and feel his soft lips on yours, but you couldn't waste your first kiss on a moment like this. you refused and he respected that.

you threw a hand up at the roof of the car, moaning loudly as he moved his fingers quicker inside you. he moved his hand from your breast back down to keep your panties at the aside while rubbing your clit in quick circular motions. “so tight ‘round my fingers, takin’ me well. imagine my cock inside of you, bet you'd like that, huh? want you wrapped tightly around my cock.” your clenched rightly around his fingers, thighs shaking as you felt that familiar warmth coil in your belly. “oh–elvis!” you screamed his name as you came, praying nobody in the neighborhood could hear you and your lewd noises.

he removed his fingers from you and sucked them clean before wiping them down on his own pants. you pulled your dress back down and glanced up, still catching you breath and taking in what you–or elvis–just did. he was still painfully hard, practically leaking at this point. he wanted to be touched so badly but he wasn't going to push it. he adjusted himself in his seat, grunting at the slight friction against him. you looked over at him and down at the outline in his pants, you did that to him. it was all starting to hit you. you were supposed to be home ages ago, now you're here coming off your high from being finger fucked by elvis presley. the man you hated, that your parents hated and told you to stay away from. you felt your chest get heavy and found it difficult to breathe. panic set in, you messed up. badly. you had to get out of there, and fast.

elvis noticed the panic in your eyes. “hey….hey. baby, it's okay-”

“no, no. i can't–i’m sorry. oh god, i’m so sorry.” you reached for the door, opening it quickly.

“wait, can i at least-” elvis started, but you jumped out and shut the door before he could finish. elvis was left in his car alone, full of guilt and worry.

»»————-　♡　————-««

you did get in trouble that night. your father gave you a long lecture, telling you to beg for forgiveness and to not skip confession tomorrow. you didn't mention elvis though, why would you? during your nightly prayer, you asked for forgiveness and why he brought elvis into your life. there had to be a reason, everything happens for a reason.

you laid in bed that night replaying the whole hour you spent with him in your head. he made you feel good, there was no denying that. just thinking about what he did to you was making you feel warm all over. it made you wonder if he touched himself when he got home. you could almost picture it. elvis laying in bed, those beautiful hands of his wrapped around his cock. thinking about him getting off on the thought of you made you sweat a little, almost tempted to reach a hand down your underwear. you shook it off, laying on your side and forcing yourself to sleep.

church was the following morning. sitting through confession was embarrassing, you wanted to forget about what happened last night. you'd never see elvis again anyway, you didn't even give him your name.

after you got home, you needed to just clear your mind for a bit. you went for a quick walk around the park nearby, trying to piece things together. last night wasn't awful, you did have a good time. it was thrilling being rebellious for once. apparently god thought the same because as you were deep in thought, you noticed the same boy you'd been thinking about nonstop, sitting at a park bench down just barely down the trail.

you could either run the other way and go home or you could be the bigger person and go see him. however, without any second thought, you found yourself walking towards him. you stood right in front of him, taking a deep breath and bracing yourself. “hi.”

elvis looked up at you from his journal, gasping, flashing that smile that you adore so much. “oh! it's you!” he closed his journal and pat the empty side next to him for you to sit down.

“i realized i never told you my name…” you took a seat next to him. “it's y/n.”

“that's all i wanted to know. i just wanted your name and nothin’ else.” he sighed. “look…um…about last night-”

“elvis, i can't stop thinkin’ about you and it's driving me crazy.”

elvis tried to wipe last night from his brain. although he felt awful about you leaving, he went back to his hotel that night just thinking about you. your moans, the way you moved on his fingers and how the world disappeared from the two of you. no matter what he did to forget you, he couldn't do it. he came in his own hand to the thoughts of fucking you last night, guilt setting in right after.

“i did enjoy it.” he admitted. “but i felt like i did something wrong, i shouldn't have done that with you.”

“i wanted it, elvis. you don't understand. my parents hate you. i went home and my daddy yelled at me but i didn't feel bad. i’m supposed to feel bad, why don't i feel bad? i’m disappointing him by sitting here talking to you.”

elvis let out a laugh. you shot your head at him, eyebrows furrowing at him. “what's so funny?” he shook his head at you. “d’ya ever think maybe god brought us together for a reason?” he had a point. if elvis was so awful, why did god continue to bring him back into your life? “it doesn't hurt to break the rules a little.” he shrugged.

you rolled your eyes and chuckled softly. “i suppose you're right.”

there was an awkward silence for a minute as you look away from each other, observing the scenery around you.

“do you wanna break the rules a lil’ more?” he asked you.

you cocked an eyebrow at him. “what did you have in mind?”

“mind if i invite you back to my hotel?”

#elvis smut #elvis #elvis 2022 #elvis movie #elvis presley #elvis x reader #elvis x y/n #elvis imagine #aus!elvis x reader #austin!elvis x reader

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shilika-c · 2 years

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Tidy

A short essay on beginnings

The book of Genesis in the Bible opens with the line “In the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth.” Fairytales often begin with “once upon a time.” This project,on the other hand, was unceremoniously started around 11pm on 1st April 2022. A far cry from the grand introduction I was hoping for.

I had been stalling the project for three months and decided that April would be the month I would finally start. I worked frantically to make my inaugural post and write something poetic. Nothing went according to plan that day. My first shot was supposed to be of a bottle of ama sip sip maheu (my favorite maheu). I would have bought if I went to the katemba on time. Had things worked out in my favour, I’d have had my aesthetically pleasing shot, a cool caption and a snazzy introduction of my recent undertaking to the world. Instead, I posted the picture into the late hours of the 1st and proceeded to post a supporting article the next day.

This abruptness (and sometimes disorganisation) has characterised much of my experience with this project so far. Last year, I volunteered to be a social media manager for an academic cohort I was a part of. At some point, I and the other person I shared this responsibility were slacking. We were given a stern talking to by our cohort principal and I distinctly remember her saying something to the effect of “it’s simply uploading a picture on Facebook and adding a caption, how hard can it be?”

I asked myself this question on day 58 of the project, when I realised that I forgot to post on day 57. I suspect it’s the reason people sometimes delete all their pictures on Instagram after years of sharing - the pressure to be tidy.

My Space and Facebook are platforms that many credit for their entry into online social networking. However, the earliest social media platform was a site called Six Degrees, that was launched in May 1997. The goal of early social media sites was actual socialisation. People got online to communicate with their loved ones and make friends. The same thing happens now, only that it’s more curated.

To exist in society is to perform. We embody an identity that is partially ascribed to us and partially curated by us. Social media heightens the curation aspect of this ‘performance.’ Although it is possible to embody a persona that is different from our own when we physically interact with others, this cannot be compared to the self-curation that is possible on social media. For example, I cannot pretend to be 7ft tall in real life even if I tried. However, on social media I can just edit my appearance to make myself look taller.

A lot of self-curation happens on Instagram, owing to the fact that it is a visual based application. Unlike Twitter, where individuals are likely to tweet everyday, Instagram users are less likely to share an image daily or weekly. I believe this is so because people what to present their best images to the internet. It is difficult to look our best everyday. It takes a lot of courage and confidence to visually present yourself to the world daily - at your best and at your worst. The whole premise of my project is rather audacious if you look at it from this perspective, yet here I am.

Despite my desire to be authentic in my posts, these two months have taught me that it is impossible to escape the desire to be tidy. By ‘tidy’ in this context, I mean aesthetically pleasing. I was in Lusaka for the first 50 days of this project. 35 out of those 50 days I was at home. Ideally, I could have taken a selfie everyday when I woke up, posted it and be done. However, I had to engage my audience. In many ways, this project is a representation of my interactions with the world. Because being an artist is a prominent aspect of my identity, it reflects in most of what I have posted on PJT 365 thus far. This has led me to conclude that as long as there is an audience (assumed or otherwise) there will always be an element of performance.

Does this take away from the authenticity of my project? Not entirely. It does, however, explain the challenges I have faced with posting everyday. I have posted everyday, except once - which I quickly reconciled a few minutes after midnight. Despite wanting to look perfect on social media, people are far from perfect. The average individual cannot work meticulously everyday. That would be a superhuman skill. I am also not the most organised person. The last two months have me realise how much energy goes into posting on social media. It’s difficult to put images out on the internet, even when you do not feel your best.

The beginnings of stories are so neat and perfect because they are stories - fabricated or dramatised occurrences. The reality of life is that sometimes beginnings are messy, disjointed and shoddy. It’s important to remind ourselves, especially those of us that are hyperactive on social media, that we can’t always be tidy.

*Kantemba - local corner shop

#writers on tumblr #female writers #short essays #instagram #social #internet #africa #south africa #zambia

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kxlinthesky · 2 years

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EPISODE 1+2 LIGHT NOVEL Chapter 1-7 English Translation

“Hey, hold on a second! Did you just say you ‘forgot?’”

BANG! Someone slapped the table.

Anastasia was jolted back to her senses. She blinked rapidly, momentarily disoriented by the sudden return to reality. Nick and Ritz were quarreling in front of her.

Then, she finally realized where she was. She’d been listening to a story at the detective agency…! She hurriedly corrected her posture.

By her side, Nick was frozen in place.

“You did say that, didn’t you?” Ritz pressed.

“... No I didn’t?”

“Yes, you did! You said you forgot about me! I was frantically running around rounding people up to save you all, and you forgot about me?! You’re the worst!” Ritz was understandably furious. She’d been listening to Nick’s story, but she’d heard something truly unforgivable. “And what was that about you taking down all those guards? Even exaggerations have limits, you know! Stick to the truth!”

Nick had stopped telling his story before it ended. His cheeks were puffed out indignantly. “But it wouldn’t be interesting if I told it normally! Don’t people wanna hear about my splendiferous efforts? My overall versatility?”

Nearby, a fed-up Byron muttered, “Literally everything in that story was an exaggeration.”

Anastasia recalled his wording, her head tilted. Demons and fairies and what have you…. “How much of it was really true?” she asked the butler, who was just pouring her another cup of herbal tea.

“It is as true as you believe it to be,” he replied mildly.

“As I believe it to be....” Anastasia considered his words. If everything Nick said was true, then the detective in front of her was powerful enough to face off against a demon... but could one man really hold such power? She gazed at him. Such a young detective fighting a demon was simply too hard a pill to swallow. Perhaps Nick had simply come up with a fanciful fiction to keep her from being bored, like Ritz was saying. She had certainly gotten lost in it, to be sure... and as Anastasia raised the cup to her lips, pondering all the while, the door to the office opened.

“Oh my, a client?” A priest entered the room. He was tall, wearing a tight-fitted cassock. As soon as Anastasia looked his way he smiled at her as sweetly as a rose and bent down to take her hand. “Nice to meet you, little lady. If something is troubling you, I would be happy to hear you out at my church.”

He kissed the back of her hand. His lips were as red as blood, and there was a tiny smack as they parted from her skin.

Anastasia pulled her hand back in a flash, surprised, but the priest drew closer to the beautiful girl and whispered, “May you receive the guidance you seek, O fretful lamb of God.” Her face flamed red at the sweet tenor of his voice.

“Oi, Clemens. Quit messing with girls, already, would ya?” Byron turned his annoyance on the priest.

“How rude. I am as earnest as can be.”

“Earnestly hitting on girls, you mean?”

“I would ask that you not make me out to be some kind of Casanova, thank you.” Clemens shook his head with a chagrined look. He then turned to the nearby butler and smiled. “Something smells rather good.”

“That would be the lavender blend. Would you like a cup as well, Father?”

“Yes, that would be lovely. Thank you, Ralph.” Clemens made a beeline for a table deeper in the room. Behind him, a small figure stuck close to his side.

It was a girl, so small that she’d been masked by Clemens’ height. She trotted behind him, a scarlet robe wrapped tight around her shoulders. Anastasia gave a questioning hum at the sight of her. It felt like the girl looked rather like the statue Nick had been describing in his story.

“Welcome back, Ellie. How was volunteering at the church? Was it fun? Did you get rained on?” Nick took the girl by the hand and led her to the sofa, speaking quietly.

Taking in the girl’s youthful appearance, Anastasia wondered if maybe, just maybe... and then she berated herself. One strange tale, and now here she was, thinking it wouldn’t be so odd for a sculpture to turn into a real girl.

“... I accept.”

“Huh?”

“Your request. I accept.” The detective sitting in front of Anastasia, Owl, had finally come back to the present.

“Y-You will?!”

“Yeah. I can’t say no to a person in need. Please leave everything to us,” he proclaimed, handing the calling card back to Anastasia.

“Oh, that is wonderful! You will help us!” Anastasia sighed in relief, pressing a hand to her chest.

Owl nodded. “And I’m also interested in this ‘crimson gem’ he wrote about.”

“What?”

“There has to be a reason Hude Lou is targeting gems. We may be able to figure out what that is. We could uncover his secrets... or perhaps a secret regarding the gem itself.”

“Ah, um... well, perhaps?”

“How intriguing.”

“... Right.”

“Plus we’re overdue on this month’s rent, so this works out well for us.”

Anastasia was silent. Owl’s eyes seemed to gleam more brightly when he spoke of the “crimson gem” than when he spoke of helping people in need. He looked as restless as a child receiving a gift. Anastasia couldn’t help but wonder… perhaps, rather than helping others, he was governed more by his own self-interests? A seed of doubt grew in her heart.

Byron tossed his two cents in over his shoulder as he passed by the back of the couch, holding a cake. “Maybe don’t speak your mind that much, idiot. And work hard for this month’s rent, too, while you’re at it.”

... Who on Earth were these people?

At that moment, Anastasia finally regained her composure. Looking closely, every single person in this room looked out-of-place in a detective agency. She felt a twinge of unease at the thought. She had come because she’d seen the article proclaiming Owl as “Hude Lou’s archenemy” and accepted it without question, but the detective… no, everyone here was strange.

A startlingly young detective, a tall-tale teller of a partner, a bartender coming to collect rent. Plus a very out-of-place butler, an indiscriminate playboy of a priest, and the girl. It was an excessively disparate collection of people that seemed to have nothing in common. Not to mention they were all supremely shady.

Anastasia placed her cup on the table and stood. She would go ask another detective for assistance instead. “U-Um, on second thought, I....”

Owl interrupted her, though. “So when’s your sister’s wedding?”

“Huh?”

“Your sister’s wedding. She is getting married, right? I thought ‘moonless night’ referred to the new moon… but there’s a pretty big gap in time from now to then, so maybe not.”

Anastasia stood gobsmacked at Owl’s question. Her face was gradually changing hue. “D-Did I, say anything about my sister’s marriage...?” she asked faintly, unconsciously pressing her hands to her mouth. She looked like she’d said something she could ill-afford to let slip.

“No,” answered Owl, shaking his head with a smile. “Please don’t worry. You didn’t say anything unnecessary.”

“Th-Then, how? How did you know?”

His reply was simple. “Looking at you, I thought that might be the case.”

“Looking at me...?”

“And I remember hearing the name ‘McCreech’ before, too.” Owl leaned his arm on the armrest, head cradled in his palm, whispering to himself, “Jeweler A. McCreech….” Louder, he said, “You’re the… second, third daughter of the family?”

Anastasia, overwhelmed by the shock, fell helplessly back into her chair.

Owl pointed at the thing resting on her knee. “Your pochette,” he said.

“What?”

“There are traces of an insignia on it – I can make out an E, but your initials are A.M.. Therefore, your pochette was likely a hand-me-down from someone with a name that starts with E. That particular style was in vogue about five years ago, but it wasn’t a design carried around by adult women, so it didn’t belong to your mother. If that’s the case, the next reasonable line of thought would be that it came from a sister several years your senior.”

Anastasia silently gripped the strap of her pochette.

“For you to like a hand-me-down this much, you must have a very good relationship with your sister. And for you to come calling on a detective agency, alone, saying that ‘she would be so terribly sad’ if you canceled the party, then the party must be for her. If your request was something that was worrying your father, you would’ve likely consulted your sister first, and she would’ve come with you. But she didn’t, because your sister is also worried about the calling card. The target is a gem that isn’t ordinarily displayed, so it’s private property, not a product your father sells. Add that to the fact that it’s seldom shown in front of a large number of people, and we can conclude that it’s only used for important ceremonies… family ceremonies. An important family ceremony involving your sister, the most likely thing would be a wedding. So I presumed your sister is a bride-to-be. Was I wrong?”

Anastasia was lost for words for a moment. Then she stiffly nodded. “M-McCreech women wear a tiara inlaid with the family’s heirloom gem when they are wed,” she confirmed.

“And Hude Lou’s targeting that gem.”

“Yes.” She nodded again – it was all she could do. There was no sense in hiding things any longer. He had seen through everything. She didn’t even know how to go about trying to deceive him now.

Looking at her, Nick grew irritated. “Geez, Owl! You can’t go scaring a girl like that!”

“... Scaring?” Owl sounded genuinely baffled.

Nick threw his hands up in exasperation. “This is why you’re unpopular.”

Owl threw a glance at his friends n the corner of the room. What did popularity have to do with anything? They all shook their heads, though, shocking him even further.

Anastasia watched them in dumbfounded amazement, but then a new voice quietly spoke. “Don’t... worry.”

“Huh?”

“Owl will solve everything for sure....” The girl from before had come to stand next to Anastasia without her noticing, tightly gripping her hand. “It’ll be all right... I’m sure of it.”

Her crimson gaze was fixed unwaveringly on Anastasia, who felt a jolt roll through her chest. A strong belief shone in her eyes.

“Miss Anastasia,” said Owl.

“Yes?” Anastasia replied.

“What you really want to protect is your sister, not the gem, right?”

Anastasia started.

“I want to measure up to your expectations.” His eyes glittered with a soft light.

“Ah....” Anastasia’s chest throbbed again.

His violet gaze was steadfast and straight, delving into the root of all her anguish.

Anastasia held the rusted gears deep in her chest close. They had ground to a halt, tangled in a deep web of mystery. She had been in such anguish, feeling them creaking under the weight of her spiraling despair. She wanted to protect the most important person in the world to her, yet she could do nothing.

And then, as she was overwhelmed by her own powerlessness, she happened across an article about an unknown detective, and she saw a spark of hope. The gears clicked once. She clung to the feeling, hopped on a train, and came to an unfamiliar city all by herself.

And now, she was certain that her coming had not been a mistake.

The detective before her was going to solve this complex mystery.

A slant of sunlight suddenly brightened the room. The rain had finally ceased. The golden light was almost like a ray of hope. She clasped her hands in front of her chest. She now knew what was throbbing in her core – it was resolve.

She gritted her teeth and stood again. Her reservations were gone. “Mr. Owl! I beg you! Please make my sister a happy bride!”

Owl gazed at her and nodded. “I will solve every mystery you have,” he vowed, extending his hand to grasp hers. The warmth of his palm made her heart soar as high as if it had grown wings.

The fog cleared, and the young owl spread his wings.

Would he seize the truth? Or would his talons snag on an unfathomable mystery?

The tale, woven from the heat of the sun and a circle of golden light, starts here.

Fin

original written by Nagaya Kawaji here

#kotonoha project #aaand that's a wrap!

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baka-monarch · 2 years

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The "miracle of child birth" was ruined for me growing up because my family used to have this un-spayed female cat that ended up going back and forth between living outdoors and indoors, we thought it was fine because supposedly all our neighbors' cats were nuetered plus we didn't really have the money to spay her anyways- well, turns out someone didn't have their cat neutered (none of us know who) so one day when the cat came up to my room she went under my desk and started giving birth

I was in elementary school, but the thing is our cat was a little sick (we didn't know at the time) so her kittens didn't come out right and it was.... Uncomfortable to watch and see as a kid, even one who was obsessed with biology. But this first time wasn't so bad. The worst that happened was blood got on my carpet and I couldn't sleep because the kittens meowing at night worried me and made me wanna stay up and take care of them since their mom kept leaving them to sleep with me in my bed. (I remember continuously questioning her "Why aren't you taking care of your babies!?")

The second time she gave birth in my bedroom is what really made me hate birth. She was more sick this time, again, we didn't know until she was having babies. I remember having no idea she was giving birth this time because she was quiet the whole time, I only found out because I went to check on her and saw a weird huge bloody mass hidden in her fur (not a baby, it was that thing they're supposed to eat after giving birth to get their energy back, I forgot what it's called-) so I went to get my mom. Idk why, but I stayed while my mom and the animal rescue volunteer that lives next door helped the cat give birth. But it was horrifying. Y'know those diagrams that show embryos in each state of development becoming a baby? So our cat, gave birth to each part of that embryo chart. She had 5 babies, that were literally babies still in development, and I, a child, watched as she pooped them out into the world where they all died. Only 2 kittens survived, then died later from being sick because their mother was sick. And I watched this happen.

The idea of birth just terrifies and unsettles me now because of this. I don't wanna anything else give birth to embryos- gods please I just don't wanna see death pooped out again. Never again-

#rambles #vent #tw vent #tw birth #tw animal birth #idk what else to tag&

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ssadumba55 · 3 years

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Damsel In Distress (Velma Dinkley X Reader)

Request: how about something with Velma where the gang is investigating some odd happenings at an abandoned amusement park? everyone splits into pairs to explore and she and the reader are paired together, and they eventually end up with the culprit chasing them and reader gets really protective of her. the gang catches the guy but Velma asks why reader was being so defensive, and reader accidentally blurts out that they love her and don't know what they'd do if anything ever happened to her. thanks! :)

“Alright, everyone! Let’s split up and look for clues!”

There was a loud groan from Shaggy and Scooby as the blond male said his signature line. Most of the group didn’t mind being split up, but the two ‘fraidy cats almost always ended up with the monster chasing them. Splitting up was the worst part of investigating mysteries for them by far.

“Don’t worry guys, the sooner the monster chases you, the sooner we can get out of this creepy place,” you grinned, hands on your hips. There was nothing like a good mystery for you and ever since you’d run into the gang, they’d become more frequent. Something that Shaggy and Scooby also liked to complain about.

Shaggy crossed his arms over his chest in a show of annoyance, but didn’t say anything else as Fred began splitting the six of you into teams.

“I’ll go with Daphne to check out that creepy coaster Scooby thought he saw something earlier, Velma, (Y/n), why don’t you two head over there?” Fred jerked his thumb in the direction of the other side of the abandoned amusement park. There weren’t many structures still standing in that part of the park, but there was an antique carousel that had you intrigued.

There was something about carousels you loved, and even better, this was a mysterious carousel!

“Like perfect! Scoob and I will check out the abandoned restaurant!” Shaggy volunteered himself. If there was one thing that could get the two reluctant members moving, it was food. Even possibly stale food.

The group split up into the three teams, each wandering off in their own direction. Even though the lot of you knew this would only last for a short while, until Shaggy and Scooby were inevitably chased out of their food comas by some monster.

“You think those kids really saw a monster out here?” You asked Velma, climbing onto the abandoned carousel and moving through the horses with practiced ease. Something about the carousel made you nostalgic, even though you hadn’t really rode them much as a kid. Maybe it was the amusement park as a whole that was making you nostalgic.

You went to plenty of those as a kid.

Velma adjusted her glasses, looking up from her laptop screen with an indignant snort. “You and I both know that monsters don’t exist, (Y/n).”

You shrugged. She was right. In all the time you’d been mystery hunting together, not one had turned out to be a real monster. It was always just some weirdo in a costume. You supposed in a way that was a cruel irony, humans were after all the biggest monsters out there.

Velma went back to studying her laptop screen, she carried that thing everywhere. Even, apparently, abandoned amusement parks. You took the time while she was distracted to study her.

A lot of people would argue that she wasn’t really attractive, but you begged to differ. Sure, she didn’t dress up like Daphne or put on loads of makeup, but the brunette was charming in her own way. She was the smartest in the gang, even smarter than you. You had always loved the way her eyes lit up when she was onto something, how excited she got when she realized she’d solved the mystery.

She was usually the first one too, because she was so smart.

Yeah, okay. So maybe, just maybe you had a crush on Velma Dinkley, but what’s so bad about that? She’s attractive! Her hair is really nice and her eyes shine so bright behind those glasses and the freckles…

“(Y/n)? Are you listening to me?” Her voice shocked you back to reality. Oh god, had she been telling you important information pertaining to the case? And had you missed it because you were too busy thinking about her freckles?

You opened your mouth to respond, already trying to form an excuse for why you hadn’t been paying attention when a massive shadow formed behind Velma. It was huge, twice or maybe even three times the size of you both, with glowing red eyes and long snaking arms that were reaching….

Reaching for Velma!

There was no hesitation from you, grabbing her hand and pulling her towards you, just out of reach of the monster. The long limbs collided grasping onto nothing but thin air, as for Velma she was startled and dropped her laptop. She made a move to go back and grab it but you pulled on her hand, leading her away from the monster.

“No time! We can circle back and grab it later!” You called over your shoulder, eager to put distance between you and Velma and whatever that thing was. Admittedly, you felt foolish as you ran from the exact thing you’d all been searching for since you’d got here. You’d never taken yourself for a runner, which was a good thing because Shaggy and Scooby pretty much cornered the market for that in the small group dynamic you all shared.

Still, here you were running. It was so out of character you almost wanted to turn around and go back. But you needed to keep Velma safe, that was the top priority.

The yells and screams you and your friend were making as you ran must’ve alerted the rest of the group. Fred, Daphne, Shaggy and Scooby came running (of course, once they saw the monster, Shaggy and Scooby quickly joined you).

There was a lot of panicked screaming and yelling, at one point Velma and Shaggy ran smack into each other, causing her glasses to fall. She immediately went down for them, bringing you down with her because your hands were still intertwined. You grabbed her glasses and she gratefully put them back on, the two of you laying breathless on the ground as the sounds of Scooby, Shaggy, Daphne and Fred’s panicked voices filled the air around you.

It was unspoken that neither of you wanted to move. So you just waited until the yelling stopped, then the two of you climbed to your feet and walked over to where Fred had successfully managed to catch the monster.

“Like, what’s with the hands? You guys aren’t still scared of the monster are you? Fred’s got it all tied up!” Shaggy pointed to you and Velma’s joined fingers. Immediately, the two of you flushed and separated.

In order to distract the group from the awkwardness, Velma stepped forward and unmasked the culprit. Who turned out to be the two kids who had told you guys about the amusement park. They explained their plan to the group, but you were barely paying attention.

“We would’ve gotten away with it too, if it weren’t for your meddling!” The taller boy huffed after realizing they’d been caught and would be in a lot of trouble for this.

The gang made their way back to the Mystery Machine. Another successful mystery in the bag, Shaggy and Scooby are furthest ahead, ready to get back to their precious Scooby Snacks. Not far behind them, Daphne and Fred walk, laughing to each other about something you can’t hear.

You and Velma bring up the far rear, walking a ways behind everyone else.

“Were you doing that on purpose?” She asked as the two of you walked, finally breaking the slightly tense silence between the two of you. It had settled there after Shaggy had pointed out your hands and hadn’t left the entire time.

You were slightly confused about what she was talking about, then realized. “Oh! The hands- no. I’m sorry, I forgot we were-”

“Not that, (Y/n). You were purposely shielding me from the monster back there,” as the two of you walked by the carousel, she bent down to pick up and dust off her laptop that had been laying there forgotten the entire time, “I don’t know if you know this, but I’m not some damsel in distress. I can handle my own out here, I’ve been doing this a long time, you know.”

You were taken aback by her words. Of course you knew Velma could handle her own, that was one of the reasons you liked her so much. She was the smartest person in the room and she knew it, there was nothing that could get past her. She was also the toughest, not tough in the way Fred was but she was definitely her own kind of tough.

“I know that, I didn’t mean anything by it… I-”

“You don’t take me seriously.” She put the words in your mouth and you felt your face heat up, that was not what you had meant at all!

“Velma, no, I-”

“Then why don’t you do the same thing for Daphne. Or Fred. Or Shaggy.” She crossed her arms over her chest. She was sure she had you figured out, so sure she had gotten to the bottom of this mystery. You almost wanted to agree with her just so you could see that light shine in her eyes as she pulled you back to the van to tell everyone else. Then they’d all never let you live it down.

As you were thinking this through, she took it as an opportunity to keep on rambling. You were tired, it had been a long night. It’d surely be an even longer night, because you probably wouldn’t be stopping again any time soon and Shaggy and Scooby would be hyped up on Scooby Snacks-

“I LOVE YOU, VELMA DINKLEY!”

You cut her rambling off, the words echoing through the abandoned amusement park. Up ahead, Fred, Daphne, Shaggy and Scooby froze, turning back to look at the two of you.

For once, Velma was speechless, so you decided to continue.

“And I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself if I let something happen to you. I know we just met less than a year ago and I know that mystery hunting isn’t a very romantic setting, but despite that I fell in love with you. You’re right, it’s different when Shaggy is being chased by the monster, because I don’t love him. If something happened to you, my world would shatter, it would be MY fault. If something happens to Shaggy that’s just another day out mystery hunting.”

Tears were burning your eyes, threatening to fall. There she had made you say it. She had made you say it all.

You didn’t even realize your hands were balled into fists at your sides until something nudged one of them and you realized Scooby had made his way back to the two of you. He’d seen you distressed and was offering his comfort. You placed your hand on his head to let him know you were okay.

“I had no idea,” the girl dressed in orange said softly from across you.

The amusement park was dead silent. Not even the other members of the team dared to speak and risk another outburst.

After a few tense moments, where everything you’d said hung weightily in the silence, Velma reached out her hand and took the empty hand of yours that wasn’t occupied with petting Scooby. She smiled softly, squeezing it gently.

“I’m sorry you thought that I thought you were a damsel in distress,” you smiled awkwardly as the two of you walked to join the rest of the gang, Scooby at your side.

“I’m sorry I thought you thought I was a damsel in distress,” she smiled guiltily, “I should’ve had more faith in you.”

As the two of you approached the other three, Daphne rolled her eyes.

“Will you two just kiss and make up already, we need to get back on the road or we’re going to miss that show Fred got us tickets to!”

“We can’t miss that! Like, I hear the food there is out of this world!”

“Reah, rout rof rhis rorld!”

You felt your face heat up, looking over at Velma. She shrugged and leaned over. Inches from your face, she stopped leaning forward quickly and pecking your cheek before bolting the rest of the distance to the Mystery Machine. Fred and Daphne climbed in the front as you pushed Shaggy out of the way to follow Velma in.

“Hey! That wasn’t a real kiss! You owe me another one!”

“(Y/n), we’re dating you can have as many as you want.”

#scooby doo imagine #scooby doo x reader #mystery gang imagine #mystery gang x reader #velma dinkley imagine #velma dinkley x reader

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isthisthingeven0n · 4 years

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volunteering at its finest : s.r

spencer ‘volunteers’ to babysit henry whilst you and the girls have a needed girls night, except the night lasts a lot longer than any of you anticipated (2.2k)

* also i have an etsy shop where i sell some criminal minds tote bags and prints. if you wanna check it out i’ll leave the link here (i’ve also got a labour day sale happening rn til the 8th!) *

“Please do not tell me you’ve forgotten about girls night that I’ve had in my calendar for the last five weeks?” Penelope focuses on JJ through the monitor who slowly lowers her phone before glancing over to you.

“I, I didn’t forget,” JJ starts, causing both you and Emily to hold your laughs as she tries to ease her way out.

“You don’t sound so sure, J.” You comment, quickly feeling a rolled-up newspaper swatting your arm as you head towards the jet.

“It’s not that I forgot, it’s just the first time Will has been away in months and it just slipped my mind.” JJ tries to reason as you board the jet before you sit down opposite her and Emily, awaiting the wrath of Penelope Garcia once you return to base.

“What slipped your mind?” Spencer pitches in as he sits down beside you, a bright smile crossing his lips as you lean against him. “Hey,” He mutters to you, and JJ glances to Emily, still shocked that the pair of you owned up to your feelings six months ago after pining over one another for two years.

Patting Spencer’s arm lightly, you shrug it off. “Just girls night tonight.” You begin to explain, noticing Spencer furrowing his eyebrows together. “What?”

“I thought we were going to watch the Doctor Who marathon tonight?” He questions quietly, watching as a look of guilt consumes your expression.

“That was this today?” You weakly ask back as Spencer simply nods. “Oh, Spence,” You mutter, but Emily kindly butts in to save your ass once again.

“What if you watched it at JJ’s,” Emily begins, and you focus on her with a raised brow. “babysitting Henry?”

JJ scoffs lightly. “Spence, you’ve never babysat on your own before.” She looks over to the Godfather of her son, one of her best friends who could talk his way out of most things, but babysitting is another level.

“What? I could easily do it.” Spencer states proudly, forcing himself to sit taller in his seat as Rossi glances over, lowering the case file from his view. “I’ve watched Home Alone with Y/n, I know exactly what not to do. And I’ve read sixteen books on parenting.” He quickly adds, and Emily quips an eyebrow to you.

“I didn’t know that.” You mutter under your breath, just as JJ laughs playfully at Spencer’s antics.

“Just let the kid babysit, he clearly wants to.” Rossi pitches in, and Spencer smiles brightly at Rossi’s reassurance.

“Think of girls night.” Emily chuckles, and JJ looks over to you with concern before focusing back to Spencer, nodding to the proposition. “It’ll only be a couple of hours.” Emily quickly adds, and Spencer grins brightly.

“What’s the worst that could happen?” Spencer nudges your side as JJ shakes her head, wondering what she’s about to let lose.

***

“I still can’t get over the fact Spence offered,” Penelope states as she brings over your drinks to the table, placing them down as you eye Emily who shrugs her shoulders.

“Spencer is a good guy like that,” Emily snickers, and you nudge her playfully before sipping your drink.

As you swallow, you can’t help but cough and widen your eyes to Penelope who happily downs her cocktail. “Shit, Pen, what is in this? Battery acid?” You remark, sniffing it as JJ sips hers, quickly having the same reaction.

“No,” Penelope shakes her head as a scoff leaves her lips. “but it is called ‘Poison Ivy.’”

You raise an eyebrow, clearly intrigued as Emily downs the last of her previous drink, slamming the glass down before heading back to the bar. “Anyone want another one? I saw there’s a deal on certain drinks.” Emily calls out, not giving any of you a chance to answer before she disappears to the bar.

“God, if Spencer was here he’d happily list off some facts about the DC character Poison Ivy.” You sigh, wondering how he’s managing with little Henry.

“I’m sure he’s doing fine, Y/n.” Penelope reaches out, and you nod. “How’re you holding up Jayj?”

Turning your head, you see JJ finishing off the remainder of your drink as she places it next to her empty glass.

“What?” JJ slurs, lifting her head up as her eyes cloud over.

“Yeah, I think JJ has past worried and is in denial.” You mutter to Penelope who wisely nods in agreement.

Emily quickly returns with more drinks which JJ gladly accepts. “So, Y/n,” Emily rests her elbows on the table, focusing directly on you as you swallow the lump in your throat. “when are you going to tell us about the good Doctor huh?” She jokes and you laugh lightly, taking one of the four shots.

Placing the empty shot glass down, you wince as the burn descends down your throat. “Maybe after four more of these,” You cough, and Emily signals to the bartender to bring a few more rounds.

“Come on, we gotta get into the taxi,” Penelope tries her best to take charge as you help JJ to her feet along with Emily who is as much help as Spencer with his gun.

“Pen, can you take Emily? I’ll help JJ.” Despite still being drunk, you can focus on Penelope long enough to see only two of her as she nods and a blur of colour crosses your vision.

JJ’s head hits your shoulder, and you hear her hum. “Y/n?” JJ slurs and you hold her head up as you reach the exit to the bar, seeing the taxi feet away.

“It’s okay, J, the taxi isn’t far.” You rub her arm as she shakes her head and quickly darts out of your arms and hauls her body against a wall as she vomits violently.

“God, least I’m not that bad.” Emily laughs, unaware of who is being sick until JJ lifts herself back up, swaying back into your direction as she wipes her face. “Oh, hey JJ.” Emily waves as JJ groans loudly before climbing into the taxi after you.

“Where to ladies?” The driver speaks up as the doors are finally closed, and Penelope fastens her seatbelt in beside the driver.

You completely zone out as Penelope gives the driver her address, and miss the ringing of your phone. Little do you know, that missed call would become the first of many throughout the rest of the night - not that you’d know until sunrise.

“Thank you, Craig!” Penelope waves the driver off as you laugh hysterically with Emily about something Spencer once did during a date he organised.

“He just, he was so sweet, but got it so wrong,” You wipe your eyes as tears fall whilst Penelope helps JJ up the stairs as you and Emily trail behind. “I just didn’t have the heart to tell him I had no interest in seeing Twilight, only Robert Pattinson.” You sigh, remembering how excited he was to take you to the cinema to see something not only in English but current.

“Spencer means well, I think his big ol’ brain gets in the way sometimes.” Emily comments as you reach Penelope’s apartment, barely having the chance to take it all in before you’re given a wine glass that’s being filled.

“Oh, Pen I can’t.” You whine, feeling a headache already in the works, but Penelope Garcia is not one to take no for an answer- especially on girls night.

“Let me ask you, ladies,” Penelope starts, and now you wish you just kept quiet. “when was our last girls night?”

Penelope watches as you all exchange glances, no one knowing the answer. “Like, a year ago?” Emily guesses, receiving a quick scoff from Penelope.

“Two and a half years ago.” Penelope states. “We’ve had team nights out, but not a girls night.” She adds as Emily collapses onto the sofa whilst maintaining a full glass of wine. “So, I’m making up for lost time,” Penelope lifts her glass up as she looks around at the three of you, just about hanging in there. “to the ladies of the BAU.”

With a cheer, your night carries on with more laughter and embarrassing memories whilst Spencer is having less of an enjoyable evening with his godson.

“Y/n, this is the tenth message I’ve left you after leaving fifteen to JJ, five to Emily and twenty-six to Garcia. You better not have died on me as I’ve rung every hospital in the district and have had Kevin hack Garcia’s phone to find her location.” Spencer sighs as he paces around the living room whilst Henry remains sound asleep in his bed.

Part of Spencer knows he’s being irrational, but it isn’t like you to not even answer a text let alone a phone call. He’s so used to you being on hand whenever- especially with the line of work you both do. So when you don’t answer, he can’t help but allow his mind to spiral into the dark depths of misfortune.

Glancing out of the window, Spencer could tell without looking at a clock it was almost sunrise. Approximately 5:37 in the morning and you along with the others were nowhere to be seen.

With a small sigh, Spencer dials your number once more, only to hear movement outside of JJ’s house and he tenses.

Reaching over into his satchel, Spencer grabs his gun as he hides by the living room door, hearing movement of the front door opening as hushed voices sound throughout the hallway.

“God, he’s going to hate me, isn’t he?” You wince at the thought of Spencer scolding you for not getting back to him after you reviewed the dozens of messages and voicemails when you woke up twenty minutes ago.

JJ wraps her arms around you, bringing you into a hug but also to stabilise herself to stop the room spinning. “Spencer couldn’t possibly hate you, Y/n.” She assures you, seeing Spencer peer his head out from the corner of the living room and lower his gun. “That boy loves you more than you realise.”

Pulling away from JJ’s embrace, you sigh deeply into your hands. “I love him J, I just worry sometimes.” You mutter, unaware of Spencer standing behind you as his heart sinks.

“You should tell him, Y/n.” JJ motions and you tense up, silently swearing before you turn around to face your rather tired looking boyfriend. “I’ll go check on Henry.” JJ mutters, quickly passing you both and heads up the stairs with caution.

“I could never hate you, Y/n.” Spencer starts, “I was just worried about you and your safety.” He explains as he reaches out, resting his hand on your upper arm. “Did you have fun?”

A small laugh leaves your lips as you nod. “Yeah,” You chuckle, focusing on the tired look in his hazel eyes. “I, I love you Spence.” You tell him as you fall into his arms, exhaustion beginning to take over your body as Spencer’s chuckle vibrates against your body.

“I love you too, Y/n. Come on, you need to get some sleep.” Spencer guides you to the living room and you fall down with ease onto the couch. “Did you know the human body requires at least-”

Holding a finger up to Spencer, he pauses. “Spence, as much as I adore you and your facts, they are the last thing I need right now.”

“Alright,” Spencer gives in as he pulls a blanket over you, ignoring the smudged and dried mascara beneath your eyes and the lingering smell of cocktails on your clothing. “I’ll see you in an hour.” He mutters as he wanders out to make some coffee, knowing you’d need it once you woke back up.

“This is hell.” You state as you heavily lean against the railing alongside the girls whilst voices cheer around you, including Spencer. “I blame you, Pen.”

Penelope merely groans as she pushes her sunglasses further up her face.

“A couple of hours! No big deal!” Spencer emphasises as you roll your eyes, burying your face in your hands once again as he carries on cheering for the runners as they pass you all by in a blur. “You weren’t home until sunrise!”

“Why are you yelling.” JJ comments flatly whilst Derek glances over, holding his laugh in as he keeps Jack on his shoulders.

“Make him stop.” Emily adds, and you nudge your boyfriend as he stops waving his flag frantically and focuses on you.

“Next time, I’m either joining you in babysitting or you’re joining girls night.” You tell Spencer who smiles down at you before wrapping an arm around you, holding you close as you weakly smile through the pain of your hangover.

“Deal.” Spencer leans down, kissing you softly before the cheers of your team increase as Hotch reaches the finish line. “Come on, I think breakfast is in order.” Spencer guides you away from the railing as you rely on him heavily as the girls follow behind.

“Girls night happens every two years for a reason, I take it, baby girl?” Derek jokes as Penelope shushes him as you all gather around to celebrate Hotch’s achievement and block out the blur that last night has left on your memories.

“What happens on girls night, stays on girls night.” Penelope simply states, refusing to say anymore as you walk ahead with Spencer, discussing more about his latest read, ‘Parenting 101.’

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miraculouswolf99 · 3 years

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Shadow Fox

"Good morning, Adrien," Lyon greeted, walking up to the model outside the school.

"Hello, Lyon," Adrien smiled at his Greek friend.

"You waiting for someone," Lyon asked him.

"Would I sound too much like Cat Noir if I said you," Adrien smirked.

"Cat Noir's got nothing on you, Sunshine Boy," Lyon snickered.

"Ironic," Adrien thought.

"Hello, boys," Vallia approached them. "You two flirting with each other again?"

"Maybe," Adrien smirked.

"It's so obvious as well," Lyon shook his head. "How is it that so many people in this school still think Adrien is straight?"

"You were the one that pointed out their lack of common sense when we first got here, brother of mine," Vallia says.

"Oh, right," Lyon accepted her logic.

"At least Marinette was already dating Luka when you two started flirting in public like this," Vallia said.

"I was so blind to her crush," Adrien sighed. "I must have looked so insensitive to her."

"Adrien, crushes are pretty much a blind spot to all guys," Lyon tells him. "I know some girls back home had crushes on me that Vallia had to point out for me."

"It's true," Vallia giggled. "You can't exactly be rich, good-looking, and not expect people to get a crush on you."

"Celebrity crushes are the worst," Lyon shook his head.

"Don't I know it," Adrien out his head in his hands.

"Awe, poor kitty," Lyon playfully patted his head.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever, wolfie," Adrien slapped his hand away lightly.

"You are so lucky that I don't have archery practice today," Lyon playfully glared. "Otherwise, you'd know the exact consequences of calling me wolfie."

"Oh, I almost forgot," Vallia says. "Have you guys seen the latest post on the Ladyblog?"

"Vallia, you know I do not care for blogs," Lyon reminds her. "Most people with blogs like that believe that it gives them actual rights as 'real' reporters. Please, most blogs are basically just wannabe reporters throwing around their opinions."

"You never hold back when stating your own opinion, do you," Adrien asked.

"Why should I," Lyon raised an eyebrow. "Free speech exists for a reason."

"Point made," Adrien shrugged.

"Take a look," Vallia showed them her phone.

New Lead On the Identity Of Ladybug was plastered as the lead story on Alya's blog. Adrien and Lyon looked at each other before returning to the story. It was some theory story that seemed to be more like a conspiracy theory as she compared old photos of Hippolyta, Joan of Arch, and some statue that she seemed to us an app to add ladybug style armor to as a basis for her theory that the current Ladybug was also a heroic person under the mask. She was guessing volunteer workers, teaching assistants, and any other female teenager that liked to help people.

"I thought Ladybug told her months ago to stop trying to find her identity," Lyon did not like what he was seeing.

"Did being akumatized into Lady Wifi not teach her anything," Adrien pinched the bridge of his nose.

"From what you guys told us, that was more Chloe's fault," Vallia reminds. "Yet Chloe didn't even have a reason until Alya went a little too far when she thought that brat of all people was Ladybug."

"May the gods help that girl," Lyon shook his head. "I have never been so happy that there is no god or goddess of blogs."

"Hephaestus is the god of technology," Vallia reminded.

"But a blog on its own is not technology," Lyon countered. "It may be created with technology, but that is not part of his domain. The internet is a thing all on its own."

"Maybe Marinette can help Alya by being the voice of reason," Adrien suggested. "She usually is."

"She shouldn't have to be," Lyon says.

"Alya, Ladybug has repeatedly told you not to look for her identity," they heard their favorite bluenette's voice.

"Speak of the devil," Adrien said. "Or rather, speak of the angel in this case."

"Relax, Marinette," they hear Alya's voice. "It's not like I gave any specific people to look at."

"Alya, you are endangering her family and friends by trying to figure out her identity and putting your 'clues' on the Ladyblog," Marinette says.

"Hawkmoth won't attack her family or friends," Alya waved her off.

The two girls approached the school, consumed by their conversation. They hardly noticed the other three walking up to them.

"What even makes you think that Hawkmoth wouldn't attack her family," Lyon asked. "There doesn't seem to be anything he wouldn't do."

"Hawkmoth did akumatize a baby," Vallia pointed out. "Poor little August."

"Well, Hawkmoth didn't attack Lila," Alya reasoned. "And if he didn't attack Laydybug's best friend, he wouldn't attack the rest of her friends or family."

"Ever consider that Hawkmoth didn't go after her because he knew she was lying," Lyon asked, in his scary calm voice.

"What is your problem with her," Alya glared at him. "What do you have against Lila to accuse her of lying without proof!?!"

"My proof is that she was stupid enough to broadcast her 'friendship' all over Paris on your blog," Lyon crossed his arms. "Anyone that publically says that they are best friends with a superhero is like asking for villains to attack them. It's pretty obvious she is claiming so to get attention."

"How dare you accuse Lila of that," Alya yelled at the Greek, not that he seemed to care. "She would never lie."

"Except that she has," Vallia says. "Pretty much since the day that she got here and every day since then."

The Greek twins then walked away without another word. That was another thing that Adrien liked about them. They took no nonsense from anyone and would tell you if you were doing something, or were about to do something, stupid.

And they certainly took no nonsense from Lila. But they especially did not after she told a lie about Clara Nightingale stealing some of her dance moves from her. It was well known, since Clara's last visit to Paris, that the pop star was very good friends with the twins so they automatically knew that was a lie. And they made their anger very well known. They didn't care if it got them some glares in return, but they always made people know that they believed that Lila is a liar. Which was true, but not everyone knew that.

"You can't say that those two are not blunt," Adrien commented to Marinette.

Marinette giggled in agreement.

The two walked into the school before Alya could go on another of her "defending Lila' rants. They got old very quickly.

It had just been the end of the school day when the Akuma Alarms started to go off. Lyon and Valiia did a disappearing act while Adrien and Marinette both made bad excuses in order to get away from everyone to transform.

"Tikki, spots on."

"Plagg, claws out."

"Frostbite, freeze over."

"Flutter, wings up."

Ladybug, Cat Noir, White Wolf, and Beautifly were soon all heading toward the newest villain that Hawkmoth created.

"What in the name of Zeus," Beautifly swore.

In front of the four heroes was a psychedelic killer clown. With the poofy red and orange jumpsuit, giant black shoes, red and orange clown/Santa hat, and purple skin, he looked like the long lost twin to the Ghost Clown from Scooby Doo. And he was also very unnerving to look at. His weapon seemed to be a giant clown horn.

"I have never liked clowns before, and this is not helping," White Wolf stated.

"You're afraid of clowns," Cat Noir raised an eyebrow under his mask.

"Not afraid of them, I just don't like them," White Wolf corrected. "I find them to be creepy and weird-looking."

"Looking at this guy, I am actually on Wolf's side for this one," Ladybug says. "Not that I am surprised that Hawkmoth made a clown akuma, at all."

"One was bound to show up eventually," Beautifly crossed her arms.

"Lucky us," White Wolf complained.

"I'm guessing he is either a birthday clown who got upset, or maybe a class clown that got in trouble for his jokes, or someone pranked with no sense of humor," Cat Noir guessed.

"Those are actually some really good guesses," Beautifly says.

"Fight enough akumas, you get good at figuring out what type of person they were under the mask," Cat Noir said.

"Good thing they don't have attached glamours like we do with our miraculous," White Wolf says. "That would make things a lot more difficult."

"Chloe's first time as a villain was certainly easy to figure out," Cat Noir said. "All that changed about her was putting her in a Ladybug suit with reversed colors. He was a lot more creative with Stormy Weather and Evillustrator."

"What else can you say about those with purple skin," Ladybug giggled.

"I may like the color, but purple skin is not something I would ever like to have," Beautifly says. "I'd look like a human lavender flower."

"He looks ridiculous I'll give him that," White Wolf looked at the clown.

"I am Jokester," the clown yelled. "If others can't appreciate my sense of humor, I will make them laugh."

"I think Cat Noir may be right about the prankster getting into trouble theory," White Wolf said.

"Finally, someone sees my genius," Cat Noir laughed.

Jokester brought out a cliche clown horn. He aimed it at the heroes.

"Heads up, guys," Beautifly warned.

She used her wings to fly up and out of the way. The other three jump out of range as the clown blown the horn. Out came a sound blast of yellow sound waves. While it missed the heroes, the sound did wash over some civilians that were farther back on the street from them. They all started laughing immediately.

"I am suddenly reminded of the Joker," White Wolf commented.

"Even with all the crime, I still actually have always wanted to go to Gotham," Cat Noir said.

"Don't let him hit you with that sound wave," Ladybug called to them.

"Where's the songbird miraculous when we need it," Beautifly tried to joke.

"We'll see how this plays out, Fly," White Wolf tells her.

They all dodged another sound blast sent their way. White Wolf landed on the roof of a nearby building. He notched an arrow in his bow, letting it fly at the akuma. The clown dodged the arrow, letting it freeze the ground where it hit.

"Anyone want to take a bet on whether the akuma is in the horn or not," Cat Noir calls out, dodging a blast sent his way.

"At least it isn't hidden on a ship like Captain Hardrock's was," Beautifly says.

"Please don't mention her," White Wolf requested. "My ears still have a slight ring to them from her sound cannons."

"Not the quietest akuma we've ever faced," Cat Noir agreed.

"Try and surround him," Ladybug ordered. "He might get confused and not know where to aim the horn."

"Good idea," Cat Noir agreed.

The four separated, going in different directions. White Wolf kept the most distance so that he could properly aim his arrows at the clown. Beautifly stayed off the ground, her wings fluttering so that she could easily fly out of the way. Ladybug and Cat Noir were on opposite sides of the clown, both with their weapons out and ready to strike. Altogether, they formed an X around the akuma.

"You should surrender," Ladybug tried talking to Jokester. "Whatever Hawkmoth is telling you is a lie. He can't offer you anything real."

But the signature butterfly outline appeared over the clown's eyes.

"Do not listen to this teenage heroine," Hawmoths tells the villain in his head. "She only wants to take away your new powers and prevent you from spreading laughter and fun. I can help you spread real fun all throughout Paris while she can not."

"I could not agree more, Hawkmoth," Jokester replied.

He aimed his horn directly at the ground. Beautifly had seen this before when an enemy would aim their weapon right at the ground.

"Get out of the way," she yelled.

She immediately flew up, further off the ground. The three heroes on the ground followed suit by jumping or using their weapons to get onto rooftops. Jokester blew the horn right at the ground. The sound wave came out like a sonic boom as it boomed out in all directions on the ground. A few more dozen people all started to laugh uncontrollably. Jokester shot into the air and started flying just like when Rose was Princess Frangrance doing the same thing with her perfume gun.

"I hate it when we have to chase them," Cat Noir complained. "Can't they ever make it easy for us."

"Trust me, if I had it my way, Hawkmoth's lair would have a giant Las Vegas sign on it with 'come arrest me' spelled out in neon," White Wolf tells him.

"This is why I like having wings," Beautifly giggled.

She took off, flying after him. The rest followed after her. White Wolf aimed another arrow at the clown, firing when they jumped to another roof. But Jokester managed to dodge it and who knows where the arrow landed after that.

"I need to practice my aiming while I am running more often," Wolf said.

"What I would give to be a flying cat," Cat Noir says.

"I will have to look to see if there is a jaquin miraculous," Beautifly giggles.

"A what," Ladybug asked.

The butterfly hero flew faster, getting in front of the clown. She launched her razor flower at him. Jokester was forced to head back to the ground. He landed on a random street somewhere by Le Grand Paris.

"I will make you, heroes, see the joy of laughter," Jokester yells.

"Laughter is overrated," Wolf stated, firing another arrow.

He blew his horn at the arrow, blocking and destroying the arrow. They all then jumped out of the way as the sound blast almost got to them after destroying the arrow.

"Even with four of us, he has us on the ropes," Beautifly says.

"If we end up laughing non-stop, we won't be able to call upon our power or detransform because we wouldn't be able to form words properly," Ladybug said.

"Even separately, the sound wave is too big," Cat Noir noticed. "He needs to be distracted away from us so we can get the akumatized object."

"So we need an allie," Wolf said. "The stag or python miraculous might be able to help us. Or maybe even the songbird."

"Sonic scream, sound shriek, or paralyzing," Beautifly listed the powers of the three miraculous. "Any of those could help us."

Ladybug was about to respond when she saw Alya off to the side. She was on her phone, as usual, most likely filming the fight for the Ladyblog. Her blog had recently opened up to Lyon and Vallia's homeland of Greece because of White Wolf and Beautifly joining the battle against Hawkmoth. Google translate was probably very useful to them.

"I know what to do," Ladybug says. "I'll be right back."

With that, she left. Cat Noir was the first to get what she was doing when he saw that Alya was there as well.

"We better handle the clown gone wild until she gets back," Wolf says.

They separated again, dodging more sound blasts.

Ladybug destransformed into Marinette before she headed into Master Fu's building. She had a feeling that he was expecting her, like always. How he did that was a little creepy, but what did she know about Guardians of the Miraculous.

"Master Fu," she greeted when she came in.

"Come on in, Marinette," Fu says.

"I need the fox miraculous," Marinette tells him. "The illusions it can create will be the best distraction for this akuma."

"Of course," Fu said.

He went over to his phonograph and punched in his code. The miracle box soon rose out of it. He picked up the box and put it in front of her.

"Marinette Dupain-Cheng, pick an ally you can trust to fight alongside you on this mission. Choose wisely; such powers are meant to serve the greater good. Once the mission is over you will retrieve the Miraculous from them," he tells her.

Marinette immediately picked up the foxtail necklace. But then she hesitated when she looked at it.

"Marinette," Wayzz asked, concerned.

"What is it, dear child," Fu asked her.

"You know that I usually give this to Rena Rouge, right," Marinette started.

"Yes. And if I am correct, she is your best friend, Alya, correct," Fu guessed.

"Yes, she is," Marinette didn't even try to lie. "But... you know that Alya also is the creator of the Ladyblog."

"I mean no offense, but blogs are still quite foreign to me," Fu admitted. "But I do understand what you are talking about."

"Alya is a good reporter," Marinette started. "But she sometimes does not know when to let a story go or if a story will have unexpected consequences. Alya has been trying to figure out my identity. She's almost been obsessed with finding it pretty much since Ladybug's first appearance. The search was what started the events that caused her to be akumatized. I have told her to stop, but she hasn't."

"And you are worried that Alya will find your identity if you continue giving her the fox miraculous," Fu guessed.

"No, I'm worried that she will put us in danger when she figures it out," Marinette says. "She keeps saying that the people deserve to know who I am, who all us heroes are, even when that puts us all on Hawkmoth's radar. She's convinced that he won't attack us because a liar has been telling her that she is 'Ladybug's' best friend and she believes her. She thinks that since Hawkmoth had not attacked 'Ladybug's best friend' that he will not attack Ladybug."

"I see," Fu says.

"I have even told her, as Ladybug, to stop looking for my identity," Marinette continued. "Multiple times, I add. But she is still looking. Alya is a great friend, but she tends to listen only when it is something she wants to hear. I am not sure if I can trust her enough with the fox anymore."

"Heroes are not always set in stone, Marinette," Fu tells her. "Not even the ladybug and black cat are only compatible with one person. I trust that if you know when there is a good fit for a temporary hero, then that person will indeed be a good one."

Marinette seemed to calm down after that. But that also slightly made her curious about who else would be compatible with her miraculous. When they did that accidental miraculous swap and she became Lady Noir, she and Mister Bug actually did pretty well. Even if they did not have much practice with the powers that they literally had for less than fifteen minutes.

She quickly left and transformed, jumping over rooftops. She had to think of someone that could be a good match for the fox miraculous. She knew that Alya loved being Rena Rouge, but this was also a chance for her to see that her actions had consequences. To teach her that there are some things that are not worth a story. Also, do not believe everything you hear. That second one was more a jab at Lila than anything else.

The more Ladybug thought about it, the more she was thinking of a personality that would match the fox and its powers. Alya was hard-headed, stubborn, and liked to charge in. That was not the type of personality that would match with subtle illusions and an animal that is known for being sneaky and quiet. A fox should be sneaky, know when to observe before taking action, and should also know what will work best when in the shadows.

And now that she really thought about it, there was one person she knew that would be a far better fit for the fox.

Ladybug landed right near a very familiar boat on the Seine. Her Ladybug luck must have been working because the exact person she needed was right on deck.

"Juleka," Ladybug called, jumping onto the boat.

"L...Ladybug," Juleka stuttered, shocked. "What are you doing here?"

"I need your help," Ladybug stated.

"M...My help," Juleka looked even more shocked. "What can I do? I'm not cut out to be a hero."

"You are more capable than you think, Juleka," Ladybug pulled out the box. "Juleka Couffaine, this is the miraculous of the fox, which grants the power of illusion. You will use it for the greater good. After the battle is over you must return the miraculous to me. Can I trust you?"

Juleka was a lot of things. She was shy, sweet, kind, had a good head on her shoulders, and had a dream to become a model. She never would have imagined anything like this ever happening to her.

"M...Me," she was beyond shocked at this point. "I...I'm no hero, Ladybug. And... what about Rena Rouge?"

"Rena has... lost my trust," Ladybug admitted. "She has been permanently retired and won't be returning."

"Oh," was all Juleka could say.

"Juleka, there is no bravery without fear," Ladybug tells the shy girl. "Being a hero does not mean being fearless and always jumping into danger without a second thought. It also means being careful and going in with a strategy. You are naturally quiet and observant, a perfect match for the fox miraculous."

"I'm not a hero, Ladybug," Juleka was still reluctant.

"We all have a hero inside of us, Juleka," Ladybug gave her a reassuring smile. "You do not need to be fearless to be a hero."

Juleka looked at the box that Ladybug was offering her again. She wanted to be confident, to be able to stand up to people if she has to, to put herself out there more. Now, she was being given that chance.

"Okay, Ladybug," she took the box and opened the lid.

A ball of light came out, flying around the goth girl. To her credit, she did not stare at the ball of light and exclaim "what is that thing" like Alya did.

"Hello, there," Trixx greeted, not showing how surprised he was at not seeing Alya.

"Rad," Juleka gasped.

"Not easily shook, is she," Trixx asked Ladybug.

"Guess with magical superheroes around, these things are being seen as more normal," Ladybug shrugged.

"Alright, then," Trixx turned back to Juleka. "My name's Trixx, and I will be your kwami."

"Kwami," Juleka was not as informed as Alya had been.

"I'm what gives my holders their powers," Trixx answered. "I am the kwami of illusion. To transform, you say 'Trixx, let's pounce.' Detransform, it's 'let's rest.' To call my power, play your flute, think the illusion you want, and say 'mirage."

Juleka put the necklace on, but she still looked nervous about doing this.

"You'll do great, Juleka," Ladybug smiled at her. "I know you will."

Juleka nodded. "Trixx, let's pounce."

Trixx was pulled into the necklace and Juleka transformed. Ladybug immediately noticed that her hero outfit was a lot different from Alya's.

For starters, her colors are midnight black and dark purple. Her torso was similar to Rena's but was dark purple where it was normally white and black where it would have been orange. But that was where the similarities ended. Over her torso clothing was a black leather jacket with streaks of purple on it. She also wore knee-high black boots that had no heel and matched the dark purple gloves on her hands. Behind her was a real fox tail instead of Rena's fabric one. The same difference was the real fox ears coming out of the top of her head. Her hair remained mostly the same but grew to where the tail started to come out of her. Over her eyes was a dark purple mask. Her flute also changed to purple and black and was strapped to her back.

"Wow," Ladybug gasped. "This might actually come in handy if we ever have another akuma at night to deal with. There would be plenty of shadows that you could blend into."

"This feels so awesome," Juleka looked at her costume.

"So, what will I call you," Ladybug asked.

"My name can be... Shadow Fox," Juleka chooses a hero identity.

"Cool," Ladybug smiled at her.

*****

Meanwhile, back at the battle, the three other heroes were trying their best to keep other civilians from becoming laughing messes. They already had to save Alya three times because of her need to film the fight even when it was a risk to her safety.

"Alya," Beautifly yelled in warning.

Make that four times.

The butterfly hero dived down and picked up the blogger. She just managed to fly out of reach of another sound blast from Jokester. She set Alya down on the roof of a building further from the fight.

"Hey, I need to be closer to the fight," Alya protested where she was put down. "I would never be able to get a proper video from here."

"Your life is not worth a simple video," Beautifly scolded. "Either stay away from the fight or just learn to dodge on your own. We can not keep saving you. It distracts us from defeating the akuma."

"I need this for my blog," Alya continued to protest.

"A blog post is not worth your life," Beautifly snapped at her.

She flew away before Alya could attempt to argue more with her. She saw Cat Noir and White Wolf standing on opposite sides of Jokester, hoping for at least one of them to get a hit in.

"Take this, Mr.Big-Nose," Cat Noir yelled, jumping at him while spinning his staff.

Jokester focused his attention on Cat Noir, raising his horn to make him laugh as well as blast him away. White Wolf fired an arrow when he was distracted. And this one finally met its mark. The arrow hit the horn and ice erupted around it, encasing his hand and the horn at the same time. That lead to the akum only being able to jump out of the way of Cat Noir's strike.

"Finally," Wolf says. "There is no worse feeling to an archer than constantly missing their target."

Cat Noir had to laugh at that, making the wolf hero playfully pout.

"Aw," Cat Noir looked at him. "A pouting wolf. How adorable."

"Call me adorable one more time and I will shove an arrow so far up your..." Wolf started.

"Don't want to be called adorable, then don't pout like that," Beautifly smirked, interrupting him.

"My quiver literally never runs out of arrows, you really want to tempt me," Wolf shakes his bow at them in a threatening manner.

"You're still cute, Wolfie," Cat Noir winked at him.

"Do not make me shoot you, Kitty," Wolf playfully threatened.

"You two are made for each other," Beautifly giggled.

"Am not," the two heroes could not hide their blushes.

"Someone needs to tell that Ladyblogger to take down that LadyNoir ship name," Beautifly giggled again. "Because that is obviously not happening."

Both male heroes were really going red, but their fun moment was ruined by Jokester.

"I will make you laugh if it is the last thing I do," he yelled.

"You'd think a clown would appreciate our senses of humor," Cat Noir commented.

The ice around the horn began to crack.

"Oh for the love of Hades," Wolf swore.

They all shot in different directions when the ice exploded with a sound blast that would have directly hit them.

"Looks like I need to layer on the ice," Wolf notched another arrow.

"Someone call for back-up," Ladybug's voice called.

Not even a second later, a black figure shot at Jokester and hit him with... was that a flute? The clown was knocked right into a nearby wall.

"That was the akuma I just hit, right," the figure asked, her voice telling them that she was female.

The rest of the team got their first real look at Shadow Fox.

"That is most definitely not Rena Rouge," Cat Noir immediately said.

"You can call me Shadow Fox, kitten," Shadow responded.

"This is an interesting development," Wolf commented.

"Indeed, it is," Beautifly agreed.

Alya, who had finally managed to get close to the fight again, was unbelievably shocked, not to mention angry.

"I'm Rena Rouge," she thought, angrily. "I was right here, why would Ladybug give someone else the fox miraculous. She doesn't even look like a fox."

The three did a quick look, up and down, of Shadow Fox. She was certainly a lot more different than Rena Rouge in terms of looks. And the way that she was able to just shoot at Jokester and nail like that meant that she was comfortable with being quiet even when attacking.

"That was a good hit," Wolf complimented. "Probably one of the few that have happened in this fight."

"Uh... thanks," Shadow said.

"I'm more happy about there now being three heroes with dark-colored outfits compared to the two with bright colors," Beautifly remarked. "We outnumber them, now."

"Finally," Cat Noir cheered in agreement.

"I resent both of you," Ladybug pointed at them, playfully glaring as well.

"At least the two of us stand out more," Wolf smirked.

Jokester than started to get up. He noticed that there were now five heroes against him instead of just the three he had been fighting.

"Oh, look," he gave them a creepy smile. "More people to join in my plan of spreading laughter. Goodie."

"This guy is really creepy," Shadow stated.

"See, she agrees with me," Wolf said.

They all dodged another sound blast.

"Okay, time to end this," Ladybug says. "Lucky Charm."

She threw her yo-yo into the air, calling whatever object that was going to appear. It came in a flash of light as usual and then fell into her hands.

"You have got to be kidding me," Beautifly said, looking at the object.

It was one of those ridiculous fake clown flowers. The ones with a small pump at the end of a tube to squirt water out of the flower.

"What in the world am I supposed to do this," Ladybug looked at it.

"You better figure it out quickly," Wolf called out to her.

He was running across rooftops along the street, continuously firing arrows at the demented clown. But none of the arrows met their mark because they were all destroyed by Jokester's sound blast.

"I'll try and give us some more help," Beautifly says. "Nature's Heart."

Her razor flower spun around her, landing on her hand in front of her. Out of the center of the flower appeared a blossom. This one was oddly known my Shadow Fox.

"That's a water lily," she said, making Beautifly look at her. "I grew up near the water, so I have a lot of aqua facts up my sleeves."

"Okay," Beautifly says. "Then I know exactly what this does. And it does make sense. Sound can not move through the water. Everyone out of the way!"

The butterfly hero took the flower and raised it in front of her. Jokester barely had time to look at her when a powerful torrent of water came shooting out of the flower. She loved her ability to call enchanted flowers, even if she never knew what she was going to get.

Jokester shot another sound blast, but the water was too powerful for it. The sound blast was now acting more like a shield as it tried to keep the water at bay. The heroes all stood on different roofs to avoid the torrent.

"I have never loved flowers more than right now," Cat Noir said.

"That's my partner for you," Wolf grinned.

Ladybug looked around, using her Ladybug vision to work out how to use what she had. Shadow Fox was the first to flash in her sight, then the water gun flower, then White Wolf's bow and arrows, and finally Cat Noir. She now had a plan.

"I can't hold this for much longer," Beautifly shouted.

Ladybug quickly made her way over to Shadow Fox.

"When Beautifly stops her attack, that is when you need to call your illusion," she tells her.

"But... what do I even create," Shadow asked, holding her flute tightly.

"Trust in yourself," Ladybug says. "You'll know what to do."

Shadow Fox nodded, holding her flute. Ladybug then went over to White Wolf and Cat Noir to explain their parts of the plan.

It was not long before the water stopped coming out of the lily that Beautifly was holding. She looked at it, frustrated for a second, before having to take off again as a sound blast nearly hit her. When Jokester went to fire his horn again, Shadow Fox put her flute to her lips and played the tune that activated her power.

"Mirage," she whispered, throwing the ball of light.

In a flash, there were many copies of the heroes along the rooftops. And no two groups were in the same positions, so Jokester could not work out which was which based on how they looked.

"NO," Jokester yelled, confused on where to fire.

Having been looking up, at all the copies, Jokester did not notice the flower that Ladybug had managed to sneak in front of him. When he stepped onto the pump, the flower squirted water right into his face, further distracting and confusing him.

Hidden in two different alleyways were Cat Noir and White Wolf as they waited to do their parts. When Jokester had his back to White Wolf as he was trying to blast all the copies while still trying to wipe the water off of his face and out of his eyes. The icy hero came out as quietly as he could, raising his notched arrow. Aiming as carefully as he could, he fired. The arrow sailed through the air, making contact close to the bottom of the horn, freezing it and knocking it out of Jokester's hand.

"My horn," he cried. "I need that to spread laughter."

Ladybug was quick to jump out of her hiding place and use her yo-yo to wrap around his legs and trip the villain.

"Cat Noir, now," Ladybug yelled.

"Cataclysm," the black cat called, his hand bubbling with black energy.

He jumped up, touching the frozen horn with his hand. The horn instantly turned to dust, falling into icy pieces. A black butterfly flew out of the remains.

"No more evil-doing for you, little akuma," Ladybug opened her yo-yo and threw it at the insect. "Time to de-evilize."

Ladybug released the butterfly, the creature now being white. She then threw the fake flower into the air, letting her Miraculous Cure sweep over the city. As the swarm of ladybugs vanished, three of the heroes started beeping because of the timers on their miraculous for using their powers. Ladybug and Shadow Fox were left with four minutes and Beautifly had three left. Cat Noir was probably close to having four minutes left but White Wolf did not use his power so he was not on a timer.

"LADYBUG," Alya shouted, running toward them.

"And... that is our cue to leave," Wolf stated. "I am not getting involved in this."

"Me neither," Beautifly agrees. "I'd rather fight the spirit of one of the furies."

The Greek heroes flew/ jumped away. Cat Noir then looked at Ladybug.

"I don't really know why she is angry, but I'm not getting involved in whatever happened that made her so mad," he tells her.

"Can I come with you," Shadow asked before he could leave. "I can hide and give you the miraculous so that you don't find out who I am."

"I'm cool with that," Cat Noir responded.

The two quickly left as well and Ladybug was left alone with the blogger.

"Yes, Alya," the hero knew that this conversation was going to happen.

"How... How... You replaced me," the Ladyblogger managed to get out. "I was right here, how could you replace me?!?"

"Because, Alya, you have lost my trust," Ladybug stated.

"Lost your trust? But I didn't do anything," Alya protested.

"Really? Because I recall telling you, multiple times, to stop trying to figure out my identity," Ladybug crossed her arms. "And yet you continue to try. I saw your latest blog post. That not only puts me in danger if your theory is even correct, but it also puts innocent girls in danger that anyone thinks could be me."

"The people deserve to know who is protecting them," Alya argued.

"And does that fact that my friends and family will be targeted by Hawkmoth mean nothing to you," Ladybug glared at her.

"Hawkmoth will not attack them," Alya tries to argue.

"And what reason do you have to think that," Ladybug was not going to back down. "Do you have him on speed-dial? Do you have a video of him saying that he would leave them alone? What proof do you have that he will not attack my family and friends?"

"Well, Lila is still..." Alya was interrupted.

"Her again," Ladybug shook her head. "I told that girl months ago to stop saying that she knew me and that we're friends. It was annoying then and it's annoying now."

Alya was undeniably shocked.

"But... she said..." Alya was interrupted again.

"Let me make one thing perfectly clear," Ladybug says. "The only way that me, Cat Noir, White Wolf, Beautifly, and any other hero in Paris knows Lila Rossi is when she has either been akumatized, been chased by an akuma, or has been the cause of one. Neither me, nor any other hero, is friends with her and she needs to stop lying by saying that she is."

"You're just saying that to protect her," Alya was in denial at this point.

"This is why you no longer will be given the fox miraculous," Ladybug remains glaring at her. "You are so in denial about the truth unless it suits you and what you believe. You go running head-first into danger, not caring about your safety or how it distracts me and the other heroes when we constantly need to save you. You also only ever publish what gets you more views on your blog. Lila Rossi's video, your theories about who I am, and I noticed that you still have not taken down that story you posted that accuses Cat Noir of stealing the Mona Lisa. That was a villain called Copycat, who was akumatized to look just like Cat Noir. We told everyone that, yet you still have not taken that article down or posted an apology to him."

"But... But... I..." Alya was speechless, for once.

"There is more to being a good journalist than clickbait articles," Ladybug got her yo-yo out again. "Looking for facts is also a big part of being a reporter. Maybe you need to think about that. Bug out."

Ladybug then swung away to retrieve the fox miraculous that Shadow Fox gave to Cat Noir.

#ml salt #alya salt #lila salt #original heroes #original akuma #original miraculous #original character #miraculous #miraculous ladybug

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katnissmellarkkk · 3 years

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Okay, onto my liveblog for chapter two of The Hunger Games :

Katniss’ flashback to falling out of a tree and being unable to breathe is such a good analogy, I steal it all the time in my own fics.

I wish the boy who held her up so she didn’t fall was given a name? Katniss just can’t provide names very easily, can she? 😅

“The odds had been entirely in her favor. But it hadn’t mattered” is actually an amazing quotable moment, someone make an edit pronto 👏

No one’s happy when a twelve year old is chosen but ya know. As soon as that kid turns thirteen, off with them! Fair game! 😭😂😅🙃

Hmmm how many of these kids knew immediately Katniss would volunteer for her sister? The way there was a boy ready to catch her before she fell and the way they all just cleared a path for her...

Katniss’ love for Prim had to be prominent because the other kids all seemed to be aware she would volunteer and Katniss claims this is a completely radical, unheard of thing to do. Sooo yeah. Her school peers probably noticed her a lot more than she realized.

Ooo. I just noticed the word choice in “district twelve hasn’t had a volunteer in decades”

Was there a point in time when Twelve had volunteers?

Awww the mayor being sad that Katniss is probably gonna die because he knows her as Madge’s friend 😭😩🤧.

Awww Katniss got presented a medal when her father died, I forgot 🥺🥺🥺

“Bet my buttons” is the worst phrase in history 🤨😐🤭

I like that Katniss’ dead father still has a reputation around these parts 🤧

Helps my fic writing brain to clock it for future reference

Maybe I’m just not nice but I don’t see how Prim is so wonderful that no one can help but love her. Like idk. I feel like this is just Katniss’ bias leaking through. Which is fine it’s better than some clinically detached narrator I hate those FYI

Omg everyone is saluting Katniss and she’s realizing people adore her 🥰🥰

Also ... does this mean Peeta did the three finger salute to her just before being called himself? Idk random thoughts, ignore me.

Katniss is in danger of crying. If this was me, I’d just be sobbing on the ground already.

Haymitch , the og rebel. Looking right into the cameras and calling the Capitol out.

Also ironic how the first thing Haymitch says to / about Katniss is “I like her!” when he spends the rest of the series pretending he, in fact, does not.

“Oh no, not him” is such a love interest introduction, y’all. Gale never stood a chance.

I like how Katniss considers it bad luck for her that Peeta was called 😅. Like... already taking ownership of the boy, sweetheart?

I feel like this is a good time to remind people that medium height is like 5’10. Stop headcanoning Peeta short. Poor Joshy though.

I like how she has never spoken to Peeta but describes the way his hair falls in waves over his forehead 😭🤧

Seems like Katniss thinks Peeta took being called relatively well.

“He has two older brothers, I know, I’ve seen them in the bakery” why is she already trying to defend herself to the audience like “I wasn’t really paying any attention to Peeta Mellark I just happened to notice he had brothers because I saw them once okay?”

Omg Katniss just outright asserting that Peeta’s middle brother definitively won’t volunteer for him. Girl, you just said you don’t know him or his family 😅😅😅.

“Why him?” Still has such a destined, soulmates feel to it. I know they weren’t destined and that’s what a lot of people admire about their relationship but the writing here has always had such a “this guy right here is her soulmate” slant to it, I’m sorry.

“He’s probably forgotten our only interaction. But I haven’t. And I know I never will.” Still continuing with the soulmate-y narration here, Suz Suz, I see.

Oh my god I don’t even remember this line but it’s so sad 🥺🥺🥺🥺🤧🤧🤧🤧🤧🤧🤧🤧😩😩😩😩😩

“The numbness of his loss had passed, and the pain would hit me out of nowhere, doubling me over, racking my body with sobs. ‘Where are you?’ I would cry out in my mind. ‘Where have you gone?’”

I’m so sad now. 😭😭😭

I like that Katniss said “no amount of pleading from Prim” would affect her mother’s depression, as if Katniss easily believes that her own pleas don’t matter but her sister’s are what’s impossible to ignore.

She really needs to stop putting Primmy on this pedestal though it’s not as cute the second or third read around.

“I suppose now that my mother was locked in some dark world of sadness, but at the time, all I knew was that I had lost not only a father, but a mother as well.” I feel like this is just criminally undiscussed. Katniss didn’t know or understand or grasp what depression even was. Like it’s hard enough for kids to forgive parents who abandon them to mental illness when they’re aware what mental illness is. Let alone if you’re just stuck for months / years, not knowing that your mother was sick, instead thinking she just stopped caring for you.

Omg Katniss saying she couldn’t let Prim go to a community home 🤧. Selfless of her. But also sister worry about yourself.

I’m just kidding, I know it’s her character to only be concerned with her little sister above all else.

Mr. Everdeen hating how coal dust settled on everything in the Seam is such a small but interesting detail.

Omg so the meadow is a common place to find corpses of those who starved to death? We maybe should stop romanticizing it.

I like that Mr. Everdeen took Katniss places with him but was like “Hmm, imma leave Prim home, she isn’t cut out for the hunting life”

Idk Katniss being too afraid and shy to go to the Hob without her dad is such a little kid thing though.

Katniss explaining that she was essentially in the merchants backyard

She was essentially dying in Peeta’s backyard 🤧

Wow, I forgot how blatantly violent Peeta’s mother was

Maybe it’s just Katniss’ perspective but every interaction is just her screaming

Aww, his mother called him a stupid creature, why don’t I remember this.

This is so sad omg.

Poor both of them.

One’s starving to death, the other’s utterly abused mentally, verbally and physically.

What’s a weal?

I always read that word as a welt.

Ok I googled it, it’s a big red swollen mark.

So same thing.

Omg now Katniss is saying Mrs. Mellark hit him with an object weapon. This just keeps getting more and more.... sad.

Honestly I haven’t read the books cover to cover since I was a teenager, some of this is a surprise to me.

I always wondered though how that bread was any good, it literally fell onto the wet ground. 😟🤢

Aww, Katniss saying Peeta would get a full beat down if discovered that he burned the breads to feed her 🥵🥵🥵

Okay but if his mother hit him with an object and his eye swoll up and blackened the next day, that could be another reason why he tossed the bread in her general direction and didn’t look at her. I know it was so he wouldn’t be caught by his mother but also he probably couldn’t even see clearly where she was.

The dandelion symbolism 🤧😅😭🥳

Her sarcasm 🤣🤣🤣

Katniss just keeps comparing Peeta to the loaves of bread 😅😅😅

Also she keeps calling him warm and solid and steady

I’m starting to think unconsciously she was already finding herself attracted to him even here.

Him squeezing her hand reassuringly and her chalking it up to a nervous spasm 🙃

I hope when they got married they got a nice screencap of this shot of them on TV facing the crowd, shaking hands.

Make a nice anniversary photo.

Okay, that’s all for my thoughts on chapter two! 🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳

#thgagain #also yes I used a Jen gif leave me be

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arctic-comet · 3 years

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Osblaineweek2021, Day 2: Prose

I love book quotes. Looking at quotes is one of my favorite ways to to inspire myself to write more fic.

Here’s a small collection of book quotes (and recs!) of where I’ve “found” June and Nick.

This post contains spoilers for the following books/series:

- Lover Mine by JR Ward

- The Wrath and The Dawn duology by Renée Ahdieh

- A Court of Thorns and Roses series by Sarah J. Maas

Lover Mine by J.R. Ward

Summary:

John Matthew has come a long way since he was found living among humans, his vampire nature unknown to himself and to those around him. After he was taken in by the Brotherhood, no one could guess what his true history was- or his true identity. Indeed, the fallen Brother Darius has returned, but with a different face and a very different destiny. As a vicious personal vendetta takes John into the heart of the war, he will need to call up on both who he is now and who he once was in order to face off against evil incarnate. Xhex, a symphath assassin, has long steeled herself against the attraction between her and John Matthew. Having already lost one lover to madness, she will not allow the male of worth to fall prey to the darkness of her twisted life. When fate intervenes, however, the two discover that love, like destiny, is inevitable between soul mates.

It's basically a paranormal love story between two warriors. He's really young (although he's actually a reincarnation of a very old vampire warrior, but he doesn't know that), and she's like 300 years older than him. In this book, she's been raped and abused by a guy who also used to bully him. She escapes, but he saves her life. She's hungry for revenge and wants to die after achieving that goal, but of course eventually changes her mind. In the end he actually serves her rapist to her on a silver platter so that she can kill him (sound like anyone we know?). He literally holds the guy down while she kills him.

They're my ultimate favorite ship in this series, and IMO their relationship eventually develops into one of the strongest ones. This series is a bit of a hit-or-miss for most people, because the language and the writing style are pretty ridiculous in all seriousness. If you decide to read this, I recommend starting the series from the beginning because John and Xhex meet for the first time several books before this one, LOL.

Here are some of the quotes that make me think of Nick and June:

“Besides, the story of the two of them was written in the language of collision; they were ever crashing into each other and ricocheting away—only to find themselves pulled back into another impact.” ― J.R. Ward, Lover Mine

“As his ears rang and his heart broke for her, he stayed strong against the gale force she let loose. After all, there was a reason why here and hear were seperated by so little and sounded one like the other. Bearing witness to her, he heard her and was there for her because that was all you could do during a fall apart. But God, it pained him to see how she suffered.” ― J.R. Ward, Lover Mine

“...the only thing that had tethered her to the earth had been him and it was strange, but she felt welded to him on some core level now. He had seen her at her absolute worst, at her weakest and most insane, and he hadn't looked away. He hadn't judged and he hadn't been burned. It was as if in the heat of her meltdown they had melted together. This was more than emotion. It was a matter of soul.” ― J.R. Ward, Lover Mine

The Wrath and the Dawn duology by Renée Ahdieh

Summary:

One Life to One Dawn. In a land ruled by a murderous boy-king, each dawn brings heartache to a new family. Khalid, the eighteen-year-old Caliph of Khorasan, is a monster. Each night he takes a new bride only to have a silk cord wrapped around her throat come morning. When sixteen-year-old Shahrzad's dearest friend falls victim to Khalid, Shahrzad vows vengeance and volunteers to be his next bride. Shahrzad is determined not only to stay alive, but to end the caliph's reign of terror once and for all. Night after night, Shahrzad beguiles Khalid, weaving stories that enchant, ensuring her survival, though she knows each dawn could be her last. But something she never expected begins to happen: Khalid is nothing like what she'd imagined him to be. This monster is a boy with a tormented heart. Incredibly, Shahrzad finds herself falling in love. How is this possible? It's an unforgivable betrayal. Still, Shahrzad has come to understand all is not as it seems in this palace of marble and stone. She resolves to uncover whatever secrets lurk and, despite her love, be ready to take Khalid's life as retribution for the many lives he's stolen. Can their love survive this world of stories and secrets?

This is a young adult fantasy romance, and basically, Khalid is a lot like Nick. He’s made mistakes that he needs to own, but at the same time he’s forced to commit atrocities he doesn’t want to do. He hates himself and doesn’t believe himself to be worthy of love, and yet he falls in love with Shazi. He's viewed as the villain of the story by everyone aside from Shazi and a few other characters until almost the end of the 2nd book.

“I love you, a thousand times over. And I will never apologize for it.”

―Renee Ahdieh, The Wrath and the Dawn

“It’s a fitting punishment for a monster. to want something so much—to hold it in your arms — and know beyond a doubt you will never deserve it.”

― Renee Ahdieh, The Wrath and the Dawn

“When I was a boy, my mother would tell me that one of the best things in life is the knowledge that our story isn't over yet. Our story may have come to a close, but your story is still yet to be told.

Make it a story worthy of you”

― Renee Ahdieh, The Wrath and the Dawn

“In that moment of perfect balance, she understood. This peace? These worries silenced without effort? It was because they were two parts of a whole. He did not belong to her. And she did not belong to him. It was never about belonging to someone. It was about belonging together.”

― Renee Ahdieh, The Rose & the Dagger

“A boy who'd thrived in the shadows.

Now he had to live in the light.

To live . . . fiercely.

To fight for every breath.”

― Renee Ahdieh, The Rose & the Dagger

A Court of Thorns and Roses by Sarah J. Maas

Summaries:

Book 1

Feyre's survival rests upon her ability to hunt and kill – the forest where she lives is a cold, bleak place in the long winter months. So when she spots a deer in the forest being pursued by a wolf, she cannot resist fighting it for the flesh. But to do so, she must kill the predator and killing something so precious comes at a price ... Dragged to a magical kingdom for the murder of a faerie, Feyre discovers that her captor, his face obscured by a jewelled mask, is hiding far more than his piercing green eyes would suggest. Feyre's presence at the court is closely guarded, and as she begins to learn why, her feelings for him turn from hostility to passion and the faerie lands become an even more dangerous place. Feyre must fight to break an ancient curse, or she will lose him forever.

Book 2

Feyre survived Amarantha's clutches to return to the Spring Court—but at a steep cost. Though she now has the powers of the High Fae, her heart remains human, and it can't forget the terrible deeds she performed to save Tamlin's people. Nor has Feyre forgotten her bargain with Rhysand, High Lord of the feared Night Court. As Feyre navigates its dark web of politics, passion, and dazzling power, a greater evil looms—and she might be key to stopping it. But only if she can harness her harrowing gifts, heal her fractured soul, and decide how she wishes to shape her future—and the future of a world cleaved in two. With more than a million copies sold of her beloved Throne of Glass series, Sarah J. Maas's masterful storytelling brings this second book in her seductive and action-packed series to new heights.

Fantasy romance with explicit sex scenes, and book 2 is a lot better than book 1. Our main character Feyre falls for a really boring fae guy, but also meets the hottest guy she’s ever known. The first guy of course isn't the real love interest (this is a twist this author loves to do). They all end up as prisoners, and the 2nd guy saves her life when the 1st one is totally useless. He also makes her hate him as he does it because he has to. After getting out, she tries to make her old relationship work, but it doesn’t, and guess who swoops in?

I do see some Nick in Rhysand (in addition to his role in the love triangle). They’re both traumatized and prefer to keep a lot of their feelings to themselves. I also see some of the same selflessness in both of them. Rhysand wants Feyre to choose him because she loves him, but he’s willing to accept that she may not, and doesn’t tell her that they’re pretty much destined to be together (it’s a supernatural thing, and he will suffer a lot if she decides she doesn’t want him).

“Everything I love has always had a tendency to be taken from me.”

―Sarah J. Maas, A Court of Thorns and Roses

“It took me a long while to realize that Rhysand, whether he knew it or not, had effectively kept me from shattering completely.”

― Sarah J. Maas, A Court of Thorns and Roses

“Regardless of his motives or his methods, Rhysand was keeping me alive. And had done so even before I set foot Under the Mountain.”

― Sarah J. Maas, A Court of Thorns and Roses

“Because," he went on, his eyes locked with mine, "I didn't want you to fight alone. Or die alone."

― Sarah J. Maas, A Court of Thorns and Roses

“He thinks he'll be remembered as the villain in the story. But I forgot to tell him that the villain is usually the person who locks up the maiden and throws away the key. He was the one who let me out.”

― Sarah J. Maas, A Court of Mist and Fury

“And I wondered if love was too weak a word for what he felt, what he’d done for me. For what I felt for him.”

― Sarah J. Maas, A Court of Mist and Fury

“I was his and he was mine, and we were the beginning and middle and end. We were a song that had been sung from the very first ember of light in the world.”

― Sarah J. Maas, A Court of Mist and Fury

#osblaineweek2021 #osblaine #the handmaid’s tale #nick x june

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annerbhp · 4 years

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how you get the girl

(Harry/Ginny, meet-cute, muggle AU)

the ice-skating ring is full of fumbling people, but Ginny finds one person in extra need of help

Hot Dad is back again, Ginny texts Demelza.

Putting down her phone, she sells a round of tickets to a loud group of teenagers, passing them off to Stephanie to get them set up with skates. Their cheeks are all red with the cold evening air, the sun having just dipped behind the buildings. Mariah Carey is crooning about Christmas over the slightly staticky speakers. It’s all perfectly cheery and lovely, and even Ginny can’t help but smile at it, this season long having been a favorite of hers, no matter how old she gets.

Which probably explains how after working full days, she still lets herself get dragged into volunteering at the seasonal outdoor ice-skating rink set up in the old city center as a way to earn money for various local charities. She’s an easy mark, which her friend running the event never fails to capitalize on.

The obvious first-date skaters are the best in the evenings, the romanticism of the idea wearing off real quick the first time one of them knocks the other down and their asses get real familiar with the unforgiving ice. Ginny likes the look on their faces when she offers them one of the walkers little kids use sometimes.

Her phone buzzes with Demelza’s response.

Okay either bang him or stop texting me because this is pathetic and you know it.

Ginny sighs. I imagine his exceptionally beautiful wife would have a problem with that.

The wife you have no idea if exists or not? Seriously, I don’t have time for this. You’re cut off talking about this.

I need a new friend.

Ha! Good luck with that.

Ginny tosses her phone down in disgust. The worst part is that Demelza is right. This is beneath her dignity. But Hot Dad has been here with his son the last four nights straight, and selling tickets and collecting used equipment isn’t all that engrossing, especially considering Ginny is one of dozens of volunteers. Meaning she has a lot of time to stare and let her imagination get away with her. And her imagination’s favorite subject these days is Hot Dad. Once again here tormenting her as he wobbles around the rink with his son.

She can’t really tell how old he is, a knit beanie always pulled low over his head and a beard covering his face. He’s got glasses too. None of which makes it hard to see how attractive he is. (One time he forgot his scarf and she nearly had to take a break when he laughed at his son and the tendons in his neck stood out as he threw his head back and she thought how lick-able it looked.) He’s on the lanky side, which on skates occasionally makes him look like a newborn wobbly-legged foal, and even that is somehow charming.

Or Ginny is just really hard up and needs to get a life. Which is what Demelza loves to say. Also that Ginny is a workaholic. And sure, it’s been a hot minute since her last date. She just has a lot going on right now. Besides, this guy is definitely more than likely married.

So instead, she is going to happily, harmlessly ogle Hot Dad while he stumbles around the rink with his son, who has shown little to no improvement over the last week. In fact, if possible, they both seem to be getting worse.

Fifteen minutes later, Hot Dad nearly takes out a pair of teenaged girls, blocking the entire flow of skaters as he stops to thoroughly apologize while his son stands nearby and nearly laughs himself down onto the ice. And then actually goes down onto the ice.

Jesus.

Talk about the blind leading the blind. They’re going to cause a pile-up, she tells herself. It’s the only reason she grabs a pair of skates and heads over to help.

Really.

“Excuse me,” she says as she approaches.

He looks up and, shit, his eyes are like the most intense green she’s ever seen, and also, he’s definitely younger than she first thought, closer to her own age. But also young enough that he must have been Hot Young Teen Dad when his kid was born. But still just as hot as she imagined him to be.

Dammit.

“Not that I don’t admire your persistence,” she says, helping the kid to his feet, “but you two are rapidly becoming a hazard.”

Hot Dad straightens his glasses, looking sheepish. “We definitely are. But it’s an emergency, I’m afraid.”

“An emergency?” Ginny asks, trying to ignore the thrill of finally hearing his voice for the first time. And what a nice voice it is.

He grins. “Ted’s trying to impress a girl.”

“Harry!” the kid shrieks, looking mortified.

Ginny blinks, both cataloging Hot Dad’s name—Harry—and noticing the strange use of it by his son. Maybe he’s in that rebellious teenage phase where he calls his parents by their first names?

He’s still wearing gloves, dammit. Not that it matters. She doesn’t have time for Hot Maybe Married Dad right now.

Really.

“And you’re somehow supposed to help with that?” she shoots back before she can think better of it.

But rather than looking offended, Hot Dad—Harry—just grins back at her. “A hopeless case, I suppose.”

“Depends on how this is meant to impress a girl.”

“He’s going to ask her out for the first time,” Harry says, smiling at his son as Ted looks even more mortified.

“To go ice skating,” Ginny surmises. “Have you considered the movies, or frozen yogurt or, I dunno, anything not on ice?”

Ted shakes his head, looking earnest in the way only a young teen can. “It has to be ice skating.”

Ginny sighs. “I suppose I could give you some pointers. At least keep you from being a total disgrace.”

The kid gives her a dubious look. “You think you could?”

Oh, now it’s on. “You doubt me?” she asks, pushing back on her skates. Without another word, she does a quick tick around the circle, doing the second half backwards. With a quick spin, she comes to stop in front of them at the last possible moment in a showy shower of ice shavings.

Harry looks impressed, eyebrows lifted. “Were you a skater?”

“Hockey,” she says succinctly, used to people making assumptions. Then again, she’s hardly a delicate thing to be twirling around in tutus. Not that she couldn’t if she wanted to, thank you very much. But she’s more into smacking people with sticks than doing toe loops.

“I think this is your best hope, Ted,” Harry says. “The ice angels have smiled down on you.”

Ginny bites back the urge to clarify that she is in no way an angel and would be happy to prove it to him. Instead, she focuses on the kid, who she can’t look down on all that much considering he’s nearly at her height already.

“What do you say?”

Ted lets out a breath. “Please.”

She smiles. “Okay. But before we start, I need to know one thing. This girl you’re asking out. What are you going to do if she says no?”

His eyes widen, giving Harry a panicked look. “Oh, god. Is she going to say no?”

He pats his shoulder. “I think she’s more trying to make sure you aren’t going to use her powers for evil.”

“Pretty much,” Ginny says.

“I don’t understand,” Ted says, brow furrowed.

Ah, the innocence of youth.

“For example.” Harry turns towards Ginny. “I don’t think I got your name?”

“Ginny,” she says, trying to ignore the quiver she feels as his gaze falls intently on her.

He smiles, holding out his hand. She slips her gloved hand into his, shaking firmly. “Nice to meet you, Ginny. I’m Harry.”

“Hello, Harry,” she says, their hands still clasped between them.

He places his other hand on the back of hers, the gesture somehow endearing even as it’s terribly old-fashioned. “Would you go to dinner with me?”

She nearly blurts out a yes before remembering that they are playacting. And he’s probably married. And they’re standing in front of his son. “Sorry,” she says. “Dating customers is against the rules.”

Harry smiles at her—fuck, that is not okay. “Okay,” he says, letting go of her hand. “Sorry if I bothered you. I hope you have a great day.”

“You, too,” she says.

Harry turns back to his son. “There you go.”

“But that wasn’t a no,” Teddy points out.

“Yeah,” Harry says. “It was. If someone wants to go out with us, they’ll say yes. She doesn’t have to explain why or justify it. Plus, do you really want to go out with someone you had to convince?”

Okay, and now Ginny is not just lusting after him, but a little bit in love with the asshole too.

“No,” Ted says, frowning. “I guess not. But what would you do now?”

Harry puts a hand to his chest like he’s nursing a painful wound. “We slink back to our caves like men, feel sorry for ourselves for a little bit, and then pretend it never happened. And definitely don’t ask again.”

“But she’s at my school! I’ll see her every day. Won’t that be weird?”

Ginny expects a pep talk, don’t worry, of course she’ll say yes, but instead Harry slings an arm over Ted’s shoulders. “It might be weird for a while, I admit. But don’t be a pain in the ass and you’ll both get over it. Of course, she might also say yes. Is the potential weirdness and embarrassment worth the chance that she might say yes?”

A look of determination crosses his features. “Yeah,” he says, nodding. “It’s worth her maybe saying no, if it means she might also say yes.”

“Well then, I think you have your answer.”

And now Ginny is pretty much fully in love with him. Ugh, her life is the worst.

“Come on,” she says, gesturing for Ted to come closer. “Let’s try a few rounds.”

She spends the next fifteen minutes giving him a few key pointers, enough that he’s not a complete hazard, but he’s still a long way from dating form. For one, the kid appears to have two left feet. Which, once he warms up to her a bit (and informs her that he much prefers to go by Teddy), his clumsiness pales in comparison to his general politeness and wicked sense of humor. She’s not sure what he’d say if she said those were going to go a lot further for him than his ice-skating skills.

They eventually come back to a stop next to Harry where he waits against the wall off to one side. They’ve just made it when Teddy careens over and nearly face plants into the ice. Harry reaches out for him, only to almost lose his own footing.

What a pair, Ginny thinks, not even bothering to hold back her laughter.

“Your son seems to have inherited your clumsiness,” she says once they are all steadily on their feet again.

Harry laughs, beaming at Teddy, but the kid just lets out a dismissive sound. “He’s not my dad. As if.”

“You could only be so lucky,” Harry says, ruffling the kid’s hair. “Remus may be smarter than me, but I am far better at pretty much anything requiring coordination.”

“That remains to be seen,” Ginny says, Teddy letting out an appreciative laugh.

Harry lifts an eyebrow, like maybe she’s twinged his ego. “Ice is not my natural environment.”

“Really,” she drawls. “Then what is your natural environment?”

“Pretty much anything but ice. I’m not picky,” he says, and somehow the unspoken arrogance is attractive.

Ginny tilts her head to the side. “I think I’d need proof to be able to judge that adequately.”

“Would you,” he says, voice lowering.

Fuck, the ice should be melting in here.

They hold each other’s gazes a bit longer than is probably proper, Teddy looking between them.

Ginny gives herself a little shake, turning back to the kid. “So, Teddy. I have some bad news and some good news.”

“Okay,” he says, looking wary.

“The bad news is that winter is likely to end before you master ice skating. I mean, you can keep trying. You’ll get better just through practice. But it’s going to take a while.”

He sighs, apparently not horribly surprised to hear it. “And the good news?”

“Well, why do you want to take this girl ice skating?”

“Because she loves ice skating.”

“Is she good?”

He nods. “She’s really good.”

“There’s your good news. And because I like you, I’ll let you in on a little secret. Tell her you’d like to take her ice skating because you know she likes it so much. And then tell her that you aren’t very good, but you’re willing to try and you’d appreciate it if she’d help you. Basically, what I am saying is don’t try to hide that you aren’t great at this yet. Just focus on enjoying being there with her. Honest is so much better than cool.”

She expects him to fight that, but instead he looks thoughtful, eventually nodding. “Okay.” He turns to Harry. “Can we be done now? My butt is so cold I can’t feel it anymore.”

Harry ruffles his hair again. “Yeah. I’ll take you home.”

Teddy heads off towards the exit, and he has improved at least a little bit, Ginny notices as she follows slightly behind. Harry keeps pace with her, even as he wobbles his way along, never more than an arm’s length from the edge.

“That was some good advice,” he says.

“Well,” Ginny says, “what’s the point of suffering through all that teenage angst if not to try to save the younger generation from repeating your mistakes?”

Harry laughs. “I hear that.”

They sit on the benches, pulling off their skates.

“I can take your skates here,” she says, stepping back behind the counter, ignoring the person already waiting to run this part of the booth.

He hands the skates up over the counter. His gloves are off now and she can see his perfectly naked fingers. Interesting.

“Thanks,” Teddy says.

“Good luck!” she calls out after him.

He waves, heading for the exit.

Harry lingers another moment, pulling his beanie off and revealing dark hair in complete disarray. “I’m realizing I’ve backed myself into a corner,” he says, leaning against the counter.

“How exactly?” she asks.

He drags a hand through his hair. “Because I can’t very well ask you out again without being a hypocrite.”

“Hmm,” she says, nodding solemnly at him. “That is a tricky spot you’ve put yourself in. I suppose sometimes it’s hard to live by our principles.”

He gives her a sad, lopsided smile. “You have no idea.” He pushes back from the counter. “It was nice meeting you, Ginny.”

“You, too, Harry,” she says.

He turns and walks away. Ginny eyes his ass, and, god, it really is a thing of beauty. He doesn’t even look back, and he’s going to do it. He’s really just going to leave her alone.

Amazing.

She counts three long beats before coming around to the other side of the counter and calling out after him. “Harry.”

He stops, turning back to look at her, waiting for her to catch up.

“For the record,” she says, “dinner never would have worked.”

“Sure,” he says, hands in his pockets.

“I already ate, and I’m stuck here until nine,” she says. “How about I buy you a drink instead?”

“You sure?” he says, voice slightly teasing. “Because I’d hate to have a date who had to be convinced.”

“Oh, believe me,” Ginny says. “You don’t need to do any convincing.”

He looks delighted, a smile lighting up his face, and Ginny is still having a hard time believing he’s real. “I’ll swing back around at nine them.”

She nods. “Looking forward to seeing you in your natural environment,” she drawls, giving him a wink.

He almost immediately nearly bumps into a trash can.

She lifts an eyebrow at him, but he just shakes his head. “Still shaking off the ice-skating legs.”

“Of course,” she says.

“Harry!” Teddy shouts from the exit.

“Coming!” Harry yells back. He looks at her. “Nine.”

She nods. “Nine.”

Giving her one last lingering look, he turns, giving her a great view as he walks away. Once out on the sidewalk, she can see Harry wrap his arm around Teddy’s neck, giving him a playful noogie as the kid fights him off.

Ginny smiles, watching them disappear before heading back to her station.

Back behind the counter, she picks up her phone, pulling up her conversation with Demelza.

Hot dad is not a dad at all, is gloriously single, and I am seeing him at nine tonight.

Get it, girl.

#annerbfic #hinny #seriously what is this #meet cute #american AU i guess #because I couldn't be fussed to mess with Britishisms #still on my indulgent bullshit lads #not lucky #but something equally ridiculous

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thoughtfullyyoungduck · 4 years

Text

And he said, I hope you know how to swim

A/N: this is for the gift exchange from @itfandomprompts! My giftee is @iheartthoreau who asked for shy skinny dipping lovers and jealous Eddie. I’m sorry it’s out so late, I hope you enjoy it anyway!

Summary: The Derry midnight breeze is freezing, Eddie notes, still dressed in a shirt and pants and dreading having to get rid of them. He’s bare foot now, standing on top of the quarry and peering down into the glinting lake. Next to him, also bare foot, Richie looks over his shoulder, and laughs, bright and innocent.

warnings: skinny dipping, mentioned of nudity (but nothing graphic)

read on a3o

The atmosphere of six best friends who’ve just moved past the worst stages in their life cackles in Eddie’s brain.

He’s buzzed up, energized beyond all logic by the laughter and loving gestures so carelessly tossed around in their group. Pennywise is dead, and with it the looming threat following each of them around and the teasing unhappiness hinting at what they were missing but not giving any clues as to what.

It’s all over now, and a road full of new opportunities lays ahead of them. Everyone is acting loose, ecstatic with the weight that fell off their shoulders. Eddie’s feeling a tad guilty too, for calling Myra and informing her that way about their upcoming divorce that he’s going to set in motion as soon as he’s had a good night sleep, but he felt so brave after surviving a literal killer clown, that he wanted to get it over with as soon as possible.

A part of him was also frightful that he’d lose his courage, between now and getting home, that he’d look around his house and accept that this was all he was destined for, a mediocre life with a wife he didn’t love and a job that sucked the joy out of all employees. Myra deserved better though, and that’s why Eddie’s guilty eyeing his phone, debating on calling her back. He won’t take back what he said, because he’s relieved to have put it out in the open, but he’s unsure if he should have been more empathetic towards her feelings in all of this. If he should have ended the call after telling her to take care.

Bev notices his wandering eyes from where she seated beside him on the couch, the woman still laughing a stitch, shifting forward and hiding his phone in between seat cushions. Out of sight out of mind so to speak.

‘We’ve got time to worry about it tomorrow Eddie.’ She says, and she’s right. Tomorrow both him and Bev will have to deal with the intricacies of divorce and separating a company and a home. Tonight is reserved for the losers only.

‘Yeah Eds, and here I was assuming that after twenty years we’d have some stuff to catch up on.’

Richie regards him from the floor, legs tossed up upon the couch with his body upside down. His glasses are sliding off, but he’s lazy to fix them, so he looks like even more of a goofball than normal. If Eddie could, if he didn’t feel like his intentions would be even more noticeable if he did, he’d scoot over to Richie, adjusting his glasses and letting his fingers trail his cheek and bask in the skin to skin contact.

‘You never did anything interesting before we went to college, what makes you think you’ve done something interesting after?’ Eddie’s tongue is sharp, a façade he builds to stop speculation about his feelings towards Richie, though the truth is that he is intrigued and he craves to know every small detail about his life outside of Derry.

‘No you guys are not starting this again. I’m sick of your bickering,’ Bill interjects, rolling his eyes at the pair.

‘I reject that big Bill, we’re hilarious, you can’t be sick of us bickering when you haven’t had the pleasure of hearing it for the last twenty years. Michael, back me up here buddy.’

‘Sorry Rich, I’m not getting involved in the slightest.’

‘Yeah guys come on, can’t we have one quiet night in?’

‘What so Eddie can just call me boring and I’m supposed to let it slide? Me? I’m the fireworks on the Fourth of July, the highest roller coaster in the park and the whipped cream on strawberries, but I am not boring.’ Richie changes positions, almost accidentally knocking over his beer bottle. He theatrically waves his arms back and forth, trying to animate his words and add conviction.

‘Okay, okay you’re not boring, but don’t overrate yourself either. The most adventurous thing you ever did in high school was skip a class to read a comic book in the school’s bathroom. Not exactly daredevil behavior.’

Bev sips from her whiskey, winking at Richie whose face turns beet red for a reason Eddie can’t decipher. It’s not until Bev conspicuously blows out a gust of air with her lips puckered that Eddie connects the dots.

‘Didn’t you say you ditched because you were smoking with Beverly? Dude did you fucking lie about that? I was worried you’d die and get cancer ever since that day you piece of shit.’

‘No I definitely did smoke. I swear.’

‘You’re not kidding anyone Rich, I vouched for you all those years ago, but I’m not doing it again. Little Richie was a comic book nerd who just pretended to be really cool. We never ever smoked together.’

The losers all holler, clapping their hands together and cheering on the exposure of their foulmouthed friend, debunking all the story Richie apparently made up where he and Be had to sneak out at night to smoke inconspicuously, with the exception of Eddie and Richie. Eddie, because he’s busy glaring at Richie and Richie because he’s busy tapping Bill’s hand away, teasingly disheveling his hair.

Eddie wishes he was brave enough to give these little affections to his friend, especially after witnessing how soothed Richie got when Eddie hugged him after Neibolt, when he had dropped his face into the nape of Eddie’s neck and stayed there, swaying on his feet of exhaustion. It would only make him a good friend, a best friend, but Eddie is still so damn afraid.

He might have had the power to separate from his wife and kill an abstract form of his deepest fears, but Bowers angry yelled words, such as fairy and faggot, swung to his head any time he and Richie graveted closer while walking, haunt him even now.

Touching is off limits the words tell him, so he shows affection the only way he’s ever known towards Richie, by bickering and pulling pigtails.

‘I should have expected that.’ Eddie nods vehemently, laughing as Richie’s mouth drops open in a shocked manner.

‘Are you kidding me? Eddie Spaghetti is the one telling me I’m a loser?’

Eddie flips him off, ignoring Mike’s whispered; ‘he’s got a point’, in favor of levitating his full attention on Richie. The giggling in the room elevates an octave higher.

‘You all laugh’, Richie addresses the entire group, ‘but was I not the one who came up with the idea for the list?’

Abruptly, all sounds snap off, as everyone is snapped back to the past. Even Richie is, at face value, confused about the word he spoke, until the concept and creation of the list is brought to the forefront of everyone’s mind.

‘Holy shit.’

‘Oh my god Mike please tell me you still have it.’

Mike shakes his head with a far-off look. ‘Sorry guys, I don’t know who had it last but I never found it again.’ He’s saddened by it, like he did them all an injustice by not holding on to a flimsy piece of paper.

The List, capital L, was nothing more but a checklist, composed with all the fun and dangerous things the losers all had hopes of doing after graduating high school. Eddie remembers now, the hushed laughter and uncompromisable joy that came with the simple idea of these things, how everyone pitched in and added dare after dare while him and Stan exchanged glances and hoped to god that some things would never be executed.

‘That’s okay Mike, I’m just happy we can all remember making it.’ Ben smiles reassuringly Mike’s way, who smiles back and takes a deep breath.

‘Wait, I think I can recall some of the things we wrote on there. Hold on’, Bev squeezes her eyes shut and snaps her finger in the hope it will get to her faster. ‘Oh’, she exclaims, startling Bill who chokes on his own saliva, ‘we were going to visit Europe, do a high rope parkour, rock climb and some other things I can’t remember right now.’

‘Didn’t we also agree to volunteer in a hospital and go camping in the national forest?’ Ben asks, awaiting confirmation.

‘Yeah we did, Stan was throwing a fit over going camping because of the environment and the dirt, but we were well on our way to convince him.’

‘Wow,’ Richie breathes, chest puffing up and head dropping back into the couch so his face isn’t visible to the rest. ‘I forgot all about that, but come to think of it, I’m pretty sure I did most of those things with Bryan.’

And who the fuck is Bryan? Certainly not Eddie, sweating in fear from the things that were being listed, searching for the most extreme dares he’d seen happen on tv to suggest, doing anything he could to impress Richie. Eddie was terrified of most of the activities on the list, like Bev’s idea to waterski in the ocean, or Mike’s zip lining idea, but he would have done them if it meant he could bask in Richie’s attention, impress Richie to rid himself of scared baby Eddie was so sure he must have been in Richie’s eyes. So who the hell was this Bryan stealing his thunder like that?

‘Who’s Bryan?’ Bev inquires with a smirk, winking at Richie blush ridden face. Eddie’s jealousy rears its ugly head, flaring up and making his head woozy. He simultaneously both considers choking Bev and thanking her for the question.

With Richie’s secret fresh on his mind, the way he’d so shamefully admitted that he was gay and they were the first people he’d ever found the courage to tell, Eddie wondered if Bryan was perhaps someone Richie had been romantically involved with.

Richie would have deserved it, Eddie argues in his mind, to at least for a short period of time have someone love him back as fiercely as he dons it out, but Eddie’s also furious that he stole Richie out from under his nose.

Which is illogical, because even if he and Richie had managed to stay in touch, and Eddie confessed – not much chance there, as Eddie didn’t even tell anyone he was gay when Richie did - there was no guaranty that Richie would’ve reciprocated.

‘No one snoopy’, Richie argues with a jittery leg, ’just some guy I hung out with for a while.’

Bev appears unconvinced, but she’s also respectful towards Richie's decision to not say anything. ‘So which ones did you complete?’

‘I went to Europa senior year of college, smoked a bunch of weed, went zip lining. The normal kind of stuff.’

Zip-lining, or smoking weed for that matter, causes Eddie skin to crawl, not that he’d ever admit it. He hates that that’s not the case for Bryan.

‘Well thanks Rich, none of us ever did anything on the list without the other losers. I guess you didn’t miss us too much.’ It’s not fair, of course it’s not. He can tell by the eagerness to spend time together that Richie was very lonely, and experienced the same aching emptiness where his friends were supposed to be as the rest of them.

The bitter tone of Eddie's speech, and the way Richie’s eyes turn a little dimmer extinguishes the fire of Eddie’s envy. Richie deserves better than him in every way. An apology lies at the tip of his tongue, ready to jump into the open and hopefully aid the wounds before they’re fully developed.

Sensing the impending hurricane of trouble on the horizon Mike is eager to intervene, playing mediator for two forces that are about to collide. ‘Well I mean, we probably wouldn’t have gone through with most of them anyway.’

‘Speak for yourself’, Eddie waves him off, spiteful that Mike has a good point. He would have found a way to undermine their plans and make it so that he could back out without appearing like a meek lamb, for at least half of the activities. If he had known about Bryan’s existence though, he would have done anything. He feels ready now to do anything, to one up him and establish his spot as Richie’s number one.

‘Prove it,’ Bill dares with a lopsided smirk, certain he’s got Eddie beat. He sustains eye contact, reaching for the bag of chips on the table and gnawing on it with the most smug aura Eddie has ever witnessed him having.

‘I would’, Eddie defends fiercely, ‘but we can’t do any of the things in Derry.’

‘Sounds like a cop out to me.’

‘Yeah, sure Big Bill, because you can easily find a zip line here in Derry. The town that refused to spend money on renewing the library back in the eighties is no doubt going to have that installed by now.’

‘What about skinny dipping?’ Ben proposes innocently, having no idea the kind of strain he’s putting Eddie under.

‘That’s a great idea Ben, I forgot we put that one on the list.’ Beverly acknowledges despite Eddie’s frantic head shaking. The room temperature drops down and rises back up steadily, at least according to Eddie. He’s starting to sweat, something he never does and takes pride in – in the office he’s the level headed one, and that’s saying something – and he pulls at his collar to allow some air to ventilate.

Everything except that. A swim in a dirty lake that was most likely infected was a whole plate of different bacteria, and being naked in front of the man he’s in love with is not something Eddie is particularly fond of. He almost asks for a different thing to do, but that would truly be a cop out, and he both refuses to back down in front of Richie and give Bill the satisfaction of being right.

‘Good luck with that Eds, question before this all goes down, am I allowed to use this in my next bit?’

‘Actually,’ Bev interrupts, ‘I think you should join him too.’

‘Hey I wasn’t the one that said I’d be willing to do anything.’

‘No, but you were the one who added it on the list in the first place. C’mon Richie, It’ll be fun. For us, not for you guys, but we’ll get a good laugh out of it.’

Richie is hesitant, same as Eddie, readjusting his glasses again. Eddie is sure that if he says the word Richie will tell everyone to back down for him. He wouldn’t even make fun of Eddie for it, should Eddie give any indication that he wouldn’t want him too. He thinks back to Bryan, and how he wouldn’t have backed down for such a thing, and how in awe Richie must have been seeing the man abandon all safety precaution and go for it, Eddie’s mind is made up instantly.

‘Let’s do it.’ He says without leaving room for argument, nodding at Richie as he looks to him. He hopes Richie will go with it, but is also confident that of course he will. As kids they followed each other everywhere, and surely that hasn’t changed.

‘Really? I mean yeah – sure I guess. Bring it on.’

-----

The Derry midnight breeze is freezing, Eddie notes, still dressed in a shirt and pants and dreading having to get rid of them. He’s barefoot now, standing on top of the quarry and peering down into the glinting lake. Eddie’s jumping from one foot to the other, annoyed that dirt is clinging to his skin and branches are piercing his soles, even more aggravated at the idea of cleaning them in infection filled lake water. Bev better keep her end of the promise, and be waiting near the end of the lake with a pair of fresh pressed towels.

Next to him, also bare foot, Richie looks over his shoulder, and laughs, bright and innocent.

‘I forgot how high this was.’

It is high up, but they’ve done this jump at least a hundred times before, so Eddie’s not worried about the plunge. He’d assume Richie isn’t either, but the man keeps glances towards the path they took to get up here, uncharacteristically silent.

‘It’s okay if you're too scared to go through with it Eduardo, I won’t tell the others.’ Richie smirks when he notices Eddie’s glance, crossing his arms over his chest.

The movement makes his shoulders bulk, highlighting just how much bigger Richie is compared to Eddie. Eddie’s mouth waters, and he starts to worry about how he’s going to have to get through seeing Richie’s naked shoulders in the flesh.

‘Just get undressed will you? Hurry up.’

‘Why? Eager to see my bare ass?’

‘Yeah, because who doesn’t think jumping naked into a lake they frequented as kids is the epitome of sexiness? No you self-centered idiot, I want to get it over with so I can go back to the Inn and grab a warm shower.’

With one last peek, Eddie moves backwards, standing away from the ledge and begins to unbutton his shirt, before thinking better off it. Richie picks up on his hesitation, shifting backwards too and motioning his head towards the ridge.

‘Do you want me to show you how it’s done?’

‘No,’ Eddie objects, ‘I’ll go first.’

‘Why? I’m not going to stare at your junk while you're jumping in if that’s what you're worried about Eddie. I’m not that kind of gay.’ Rarely does Richie toss aside an opportunity to grant Eddie another humorous nickname, so the use of his real name spooks Eddie just enough that he opens his mouth to apologize without even realizing what he’s apologizing for.

Richie’s facial expression, set in a grimace and squinting his eyes defensively, are a dead give away that Eddie’s words are being taken the wrong way. If only Richie knew that Eddie wanted him to go in first so he could avoid the same temptation Richie thought he was forcing on him.

‘Richie no, that’s not what I meant I-.’ Heartfelt compliments are not something Eddie has had a lot of practice for these last few years, and he’s not doing a good job catching up on them either. Therefore he sighs and hopes that he can find another way to prove to Richie he’d never accuse him of something like that. ‘Whatever, just go first already.’

‘Fine but turn around okay?’

Eddie listens to him, back towards Richie and the jump off, though he doesn’t really understand the request. With Richie comes a lot of flair, and he was more or less been prepared for a joke about how Eddie got to confirm how big his dick is in reality.

He waits and listens carefully for the sounds of clothes being dropped on the ground, and he can’t stop his mind from secretly imagining how Richie looks like without them once he distinguishes it. Eddie shakes his head, scolding his own mind.

The next few moments are filled with raspy breaths originating from Richie, footstep sounding further away and then closer again in an erratic pattern. He must be scared of the jump. Under normal circumstances, Eddie would ask to jump in at the same time, but since Richie asked Eddie not to turn around, he won’t.

‘If you don’t jump in the next five minutes,’ Eddie teases, the way Richie used to tease him, ‘I’ll push you in.’ A second later Eddie hears Richie’s loud whooping as he plunges down into the dark water.

Eddie spins, the only thing greeting him the dark with very little light clearing up his path, from the moon. He’s having a hard time to even see where the cliff ends, and he can’t disguise Richie in the water at all.

‘I’m coming in’, he yells to the void, in case Richie can’t discern his body in time and needs to move out of the way. He takes off his clothes, goosebumps erupting on his skin, and folds his pants and t-shirt up neatly, touching the ground with his hands to find a dry spot to lay them on. The air is cold, and so Eddie refuses to linger on top any longer than he has to.

He jogs up to the ledge and darts off before his mind can conjure up the thousands of things that can go wrong from swimming in the dark this late at night. His body flies through the air and connects with the water in one swoop, a pit of glee bursting in Eddie’s stomach. Jumping from the quarry equals freedom, a hot summer day and love for all of his friends, but in particular Richie.

Eddie keeps his head underwater until his lungs burn, eyes closed and allowing himself to just feel all the sensations. Then, something tickles the back of his leg, and the peaceful moment is over. He kicks back the surface, away from the spot where he could swear something touched him, and searches around for Richie.

Richie, with his wet black hair clinging to his forehead, strands of it sticking out in every direction, and his droplet covered glasses, roving more of Eddie’s heart each minute they’re near each other. He’s never looked more beautiful, and Eddie has never had to fight the urge to kiss him as much as he does now.

‘See, I told you I wouldn’t stare Eds, I can’t even see anything with all these splatters on my glasses.’

The moon reflects on the water, so that it’s impenetrable, and neither Rich nor Eddie can look down and see their lower body parts.

What Eddie can see is enough anyway, Richie’s shoulders and part of his chest hold Eddie’s attention, and he forgets to respond to Richie’s comment.

His eyes land on a dark bruise, just on the bottom of Richie’s neck, a remnant of their fight with Pennywise earlier that day. Without thinking, without standing still on the consequences of such an action, Eddie swims closer, stretches his arm out, and lingers his fingertips over the bruise. He carefully positions his body to not touch any other body part of Richie’s except for his fingers on his neck.

He makes an inquisitive noise, thumb stroking over the injury in what he hopes to be a calming matter. He physically can’t pull away, entranced with the way he moves and responds to him, trying but failing to get his fill of Richie clenched.

‘Eddie’, Richie whispers, scared to break the silence and the intimate moment. ‘It’ll be fine. And hey, at least he didn’t do anything to my dick.’

‘Yeah, would have been a shame if it were to become even smaller.’

Richie snorts, retaliating the jest with a wave of dirty water aimed at Eddie.

Eddie gasps, spitting out a bit of water that managed to sneak into his mouth. ‘Oh you’re on.’

The two of them chase each other, and if it weren’t for the fact that they were both naked, Eddie would have thrown his entire body weight in the game to push Richie underwater. As it stands, they just splash back and forth until they’re exhausted and the remnants of their laughter dies out, barely enough energy left to stay afloat side by side.

‘Did you have this much fun with Bryan?’ Eddie asks, a bit envious. He hates how he’s still stuck on the Bryan thing, hates that his mind keeps popping images of them doing the exact same thing only to end it with a kiss.

‘What?’

‘With Bryan, the guy you did all that other stuff with?’

‘Oh no, me and Bryan – we were never together like that.’ Back at the hotel room, Eddie figured that that was a ploy to distract Bev, something Richie just said because he couldn’t comfortably admit the real intent of their relationship. But he’s never lied to Eddie, and his eyes, magnified by his glasses, seem so sincere, Eddie has no other option but to believe him. ‘I-I’m- some other guy already has that place all taken up.’

Eddie stupid, oblivious and dense and everything in between. He knows Richie isn’t talking about him, he knows he could never be the guy Richie would hold all hope out for – he also secretly hopes it’s none of the losers -, but he wants to be so bad. Just one time, just one kiss and he’d be sated enough to let go of his feral behavior towards any potential love interest Richie might have. Just one time.

‘Richie’, Eddie starts, biting his bottom lip hard enough to draw blood. He’s taking a huge risk, by foreseeing a rejection but hoping that Richie won’t drop him as a friend because of this. If Eddie doesn’t do this, he’ll never stop wondering what it feels for their lips to meet. He’ll never get over Richie because he never got to experience any with him.

‘Can I kiss you?’ He risks releasing his lip.

Richie is visibly shocked. ‘What? What the fuck? Eddie is this a joke?’

The joke is, as usual, all on Eddie who regrets ever opening his mouth in the first place. He could try to laugh it off, say that it was a joke, but that would mean that he pretends to make a jest out of something Richie has struggled with for his entire life. He’s stuck between a rock and a hard place. Left with no other options but to further dig his own grave, Eddie decides to be honest. At least that means he gets to keep part of his integrity.

‘No Richie of course not, I wouldn’t do that to you. I’m sorry. Look I like you but it’s obviously one sided and I just wanted to know what it felt like to kiss you but it was a stupid request and I shouldn’t have asked you that. Oh god, I never even asked if you were dating someone –‘

‘Eds?’

‘- Fuck can we please forget I said anything so we can still hang out?’

‘Eddie?’

‘What?’

‘Yes. Please kiss me.’

Eddie gapes with his mouth open, struggling for breath and for words. He’s half convinced he misinterpreted the words, but his tilted head proves otherwise. Eddie doesn’t question it further, counting his lucky start for once, and leaning in to his emotions and Richie, breaching the water to get to him.

Their kiss is surprisingly gentle for the ungovernable lead up prior to it. Richie’s lips taste like lake water, but deeper underneath lies a tang of something distinctively Richie. Eddie can’t wait to devour him whole once he’s cleaned up. Their lips move together in tandem, a perfect harmony that for once neither are willing to break.

They pull back, Richie’s arms circling Eddie’s waist, and he smiles. His smile mixed with the love stricken gleam in his eyes, mysteriously tells Eddie that Richie feels the exact same way he does. His chest caves with happiness.

‘I like you too, if it wasn’t obvious. A lot more than Bryan.’

‘For the love of God can we never mention that again? It’s embarrassing. No, Hush’, Eddie says urgently, covering Richie’s mouth with his palm when he opens his mouth to conjure up another joke.

‘Fine,’ Richie says while pulling away from Eddie’s hand. ‘How about we talk about something else then? How the fuck are we supposed to get to our clothes?’

#my writing #reddie imagine #reddie fic #reddie #richie tozier #eddie kaspbrack #richie and eddie #adult losers #it chapter two imagine #eddie x richie

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advena87 · 4 years

Text

Kaer Morhen shenanigans (but mostly Lambert’s) part 3

Here is: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10 and Daily Lambert

also Keira & Lambert’s love story, Aiden & Lambert’s love story and… this.

[ Also here it is nice to remind you that Berengar, like Lambert, was dissatisfied with being a witcher and didn’t have a good opinion about Vesemir. This influenced his decision to reveal Kaer Morhen's location to Salamandra and cooperate with them. If you don't know who Berengar is, I highly recommend playing the Witcher 1. ]

Vesemir: *points to Eskel* Dis a son.

Vesemir: *points to Geralt* Dis a son.

Vesemir: *points to Lambert* Dis a pointment.

Berengar: xD

Lambert: Fuck you.

Vesemir: *points to Berengar* Dis a ster.

Lambert: xD

Berengar: ...

***

Lambert: Am I a good son?

Berengar: No.

Lambert: Good.

Both: [evil laugh]

***

Vesemir: Berengar, I've been looking for you everywhere!

Berengar: What a coincidence, old man! I've been avoiding you everywhere!

***

*Young witchers on the path*

Lambert: I think I accidentally got your lunch.

Lambert: *holds up note* I am very proud of you, love Dad.

Eskel: Oh yeah, I didn’t think this was for me.

Eskel: *holds up note* Please be good. For the love of GOD, please be good!

***

Vesemir: We have lost touch as a family and it’s time we get reacquainted. Let’s start with an ice breaker game called, two truths and a lie!

Lambert: Oh, I’ll go! My eyes are blue, I’m basically sample size and one time...I escaped from a fisstech dealer dungeon by bribing them with sex.

Vesemir: [eye roll] Right idea, but it’s gotta be more challenging-

Eskel: His eyes are amber.

Vesemir: ...

Lambert: ...

Vesemir: You did WHAT?!

***

Lambert: I can make my own decisions I’m an adult!

Vesemir: Adults don’t start a bar fight because they forgot to bring their wallet and can’t pay the tab!

Lambert: I never said I can make good decisions.

Vesemir: Why are you doing this to me?

Lambert: Because I’m bored, it’s funny, and I hate you. There you are. The holy trinity of why.

***

Eskel: What's the worst decision you've ever made while drunk?

Lambert: Don't mean to brag, but I don't need alcohol to make bad decisions.

***

Eskel: The moon is so huge and pretty tonight!

Geralt: Yeah it is!

Berengar, quietly to Lambert: Should we tell them it’s just a tortilla you threw at the window?

Lambert: Please don’t.

***

Geralt: My worst trauma is when Lambert tried to murder me.

Lambert: I didn't try to murder you. I just didn't try to save you.

***

Lambert: I swing both ways.

Lambert: Violently. With a sword.

Lambert: Also, I’m bisexual.

Lambert: ... promise you won’t tell anyone?

Berengar: Your secret is safe with me. I wasn’t even listening.

*later*

Eskel: The printer messed up the invitations. it was supposed to say "Lambert’ birthday".

Geralt: What does it say instead?

Eskel: "Lambert’ bi"

Berengar: Well that could still work.

***

Geralt: I think we should do it.

Eskel: But that stuffs illegal!

Geralt: ...

Eskel: ...

Eskel: Ok, I’m in.

Lambert: *walking in the room*

Lambert: I heard illegal, I’m in.

***

Eskel: *angry* ARE YOU-

Lambert: Fucking.

Eskel: -KIDDING ME?!

Berengar: What was that?

Lambert: Eskel legally cannot say fuck, so I’ve volunteered to say it for him.

Geralt: I think you just like saying, fuck.

Lambert: That doesn’t make my job less important.

***

Lambert: Pleasing everyone is impossible, but pissing everyone off is easy and fun as hell. Looking back, I have no regrets.

Geralt: You should.

Lambert: Probably.

***

Guard: Put your weapons on the ground!

Lambert: How exactly do I put sarcasm, a scathing wit, and sex appeal on the ground?

***

Eskel: I sleep with a knife under my pillow.

Geralt: Weak. I sleep with a sword under mine.

Lambert: You're both pathetic.

Berengar: What killer weapon do you sleep with then, Mr. Badass?

Lambert, proud and confident: Aiden.

***

Berengar: What up? I’m back bitches.

Geralt: I literally saw you die. You died. You were dead.

Berengar: Death is a social construct.

***

Lambert, drunk at 1AM: *in pajamas and blasting ABBA in his room* Gimmie gimmie gimmie my man after midnight! Won’t somebody help me-

Geralt in the other room: Aiden is dead. Get over it and go to bed! There’s your help.

Lambert: [drunken sobs]

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raleighcarrera · 4 years

Text

daylight

open heart | bryce lahela x mc (casey valentine)

gratuitous ‘there’s only one bed’ bed-sharing for @choicesarehard

~5.8k words | M (18+)

casey barely batted an eyelash at the front desk assistant in the wake of her words, seemingly completely uncaring that their reservation had gotten messed up, somehow, leaving them with only one room booked instead of two. “whatever,” she shrugged, taking one of the proffered key cards and heading for the elevator.

bryce leaned in over the front desk, trying not to panic. “are you sure that’s all you have? can you -- can you check again?”

the receptionist looked pointedly at the line forming behind him. “sir, i’m quite positive. we’re all booked this weekend for the conference.”

“great,” he mumbled under his breath, sighing as he took the other key card and walked off after casey. okay, so they had to share a room. that was fine. that was hardly a big deal. what was the worst that could happen? they’d already seen each other changing at work plenty of times.

besides, the image of her bare shoulders was practically burned into his brain, at this point. he didn’t need a weekend sleepover to fixate on it.

casey was still waiting for the elevator when he strolled over to her corner of the lobby. “sorry,” he said, just as the doors parted for them to step inside, “i don’t know what happened. i guess they double-booked us.”

“it’s not a big deal,” casey answered easily, “as long as you don’t snore. do you snore?”

bryce laughed. he loved how she always effortlessly lightened the mood. “definitely not. how do i know you don’t snore? maybe i should check with trinh.”

“i don’t snore! come on, you know i’m a perfect angel.”

“right.” he bumped his shoulder into hers playfully as they walked down the hallway towards their room. once they found the door that was theirs, casey tapped her key card and let them inside.

she stopped short in the entranceway, so that he bumped right into her. “oh.”

her voice sounded funny. “what?” bryce leaned over to peer around her shoulder, trying to see what she was looking at.

oh was right.

there was only one bed.

it stared conspicuously back at them both as they stood there, staring at it.

“uhhhhh...” bryce started awkwardly, clearing his throat, “it’s cool, i’ll take the floor.”

his words jolted casey to movement, and she stepped the rest of the way inside the room, setting her bag down on the bed. “you don’t have to do that.”

bryce looked at her curiously. “what?”

casey shrugged that same way she had in he lobby -- like none of this mattered to her in the slightest. “we can just share. it’s a king sized bed. it’s huge.”

her casual attitude made him wonder if maybe he was being weird. maybe casey didn’t think this was as big a deal as he did -- though that felt more than a little disheartening. maybe she didn’t think it was a big deal because she didn’t feel the way he felt about her. maybe the thought of sleeping next to him in the same bed didn’t make her pulse race, like it did to him.

...maybe he was overthinking things.

“okay,” he said finally, trying to sound as casual as she did. he shot her a grin before strolling to the window and pulling the curtains open. it was a beautiful, sunny day in san diego, and as he looked out over their view, bryce spared a thought for their poor friends, stuck at home in boston while he and casey were here, representing the hospital.

she stepped up beside him, seemingly reading his mind. “man, those guys at home are suck-ers. i can’t believe none of them wanted to come to this.”

“i know, right?” he leaned his forearm against the window, looking out at the hotel’s pool, down below them. “they don’t know what they’re missing. a couple hours of lectures, and then we’ll have our run of this place. it’s going to be awesome.”

“it’s such a nice day,” casey sighed wistfully, her gaze following his down to the pool. “i wish we had time for a swim.”

he shrugged. “we’ll make time. there has to be something we can cut out of early.”

“i like where you’re head’s at.” she leaned over and nudged her shoulder against his. “i’m gonna go get changed, then we can hit the conference.”

“sounds good.” casey disappeared into the bathroom with her bag, and he looked down at what he was wearing, figuring he should probably do the same.

he was still trying to decide between shirts when casey reemerged. bryce looked over his shoulder at her with a smile. “oh, so it’s like that. i guess i should dress up, too, huh?”

casey seemed -- startled. “what?” her eyes darted around the room. “i guess? i just thought... since we’re here on behalf of the hospital... you know. um, you should get dressed.”

“well, i’m definitely going to get dressed in something. i don’t think the rest of the conference could handle me otherwise.” he grinned at her as he finally reached for a shirt and shrugged it on. casey waited until all his buttons were done up before she looked at him again. her cheeks were suspiciously pink. maybe it was too warm in the room for her. “how’s this?”

she exhaled heavily. “it’s great, we should go.” she turned abruptly and started for the door.

huh. that was weird. bryce followed behind her, jogging to catch up to her at the elevator. “so, what’s the game plan? there’s a presentation i want to get to about some new advancements in surgery at twelve.”

casey’s eyes scanned the show floor. “i think i’ll be okay for a little bit. come find me afterwards?”

“for sure.”

the morning flew by in a blur. when he’d agreed to attend the conference, it’d been mostly because of the free trip to somewhere warm -- that, and casey had already volunteered, and he was desperate for some time alone with her, away from the hospital. but the material that was being presented proved to be more interesting than he’d anticipated, and bryce welcomed the opportunity to zone out and think only about work for a few hours, giving himself free reign to geek out completely over new surgical technology.

he forgot to look for her until late in the afternoon, and finally found her in what looked like a hostage situation with an ancient pharma rep. her eyes were seemingly begging for a rescue -- especially when she noticed him, and they went wide with a silent plea.

bryce pursed his lips to suppress a smile. “hey, dr. valentine!” he greeted, over-enthusiastic as he approached. “long time, no see. what’ve you been up to? we absolutely have to catch up.” he offered the man that was with her his most charming smile.

“of course,” casey nodded. he rested a hand on the small of her back to turn her away, and she went gratefully, pivoting towards the other direction. “if you’ll excuse me.”

he laughed as they hurried away, ducking his head on a grin when casey reached down, grabbed his hand and squeezed it hard. “thank you,” she sighed emphatically, “i thought i’d never be able to get out of that. you’re my hero.”

“i try. sorry i didn’t come find you sooner, i got wrapped up in the sickest demo.”

“it’s fine -- i guess i should’ve expected you’d be easily distracted by something shiny.”

“hey,” he laughed, laying a hand over his heart, “your words hurt, you know.”

“sorry.” the smile casey shot him would’ve eased any sting, even if he wasn’t just joking with her. god, she was so pretty. “can we go swimming now? i think i’m tapped on professional talk.”

“you and me both.” he glanced around before they ducked out of the room, but couldn’t spot a single familiar face in the crowd. there wasn’t anyone here who knew them, or anyone who was looking for them. for once, they were... pretty much invisible.

as if she was reading his mind, casey said, “it’s kind of nice being anonymous, right? no one here is looking at me like i’m casey valentine, boston’s biggest medical disaster.”

“no one at edenbrook is looking at you that way, either, you know,” he felt compelled to remind her, “you were cleared by the board. as far as everyone’s concerned, you didn’t do anything wrong.”

“i don’t think that’s true as far as everyone’s concerned.” he frowned at her, but casey didn’t clarify, staring thoughtfully out of the glass walls of the elevator as it climbed back to the floor of their room. after a moment, she shook her head. “i’m glad it’s you here with me. there’s no one else i’d rather be anonymous with.”

“hard same,” he said, forcefully ignoring the way his heart leapt into his throat. she was just being nice. she had to be. “now get changed so we can make that swim-up bar wish they never opened.”

by now he was pretty practiced in the art of absolutely not staring at her when she was dressed in anything less than her scrubs and coat, so it didn’t take much for him to tactfully avert his eyes when casey stepped out in her bikini.

most of the hotel occupants were still inside -- the pool was pretty much empty when they arrived. the bartenders almost looked bored. bryce smirked as they dropped their stuff on a couple of chairs and made their way over. that was about to change.

casey ordered them each a shot and then something that he was sure by the name alone contained equal parts of juice and alcohol -- the formula that never failed to give him a wicked hangover. but he didn’t complain, and only shook his head when the bartender placed two hollowed out pineapples with big, fancy drink umbrellas in front of them.

she ignored the juice-nightmare and picked up her shot glass. “to our second year,” she declared, knocking it against his. tequila splashed out over his thumb.

“to our second year,” bryce echoed, lifting the glass to his lips and knocking back the shot. he grimaced as he sunk his teeth into the lime, sucking the rest of the tequila off his fingers where casey had spilled it. “god, those are vile.”

casey smacked her lips together with a shrug. “i like them. want another one?”

bryce laughed. “slow down. by the time you finish this thing, you’re going to be trashed. we’ll see about another shot then.”

“suit yourself.” she shrugged, leaning in over the pineapple and drinking deeply from the straw. “okay, you have to try this. it’s soooooo good.”

predictably, it was cloyingly sweet -- so much so, that he dangerously couldn’t even taste whatever alcohol it was full of. “it tastes like i’m going to have to carry you back to the room later.”

casey’s head tipped back with a laugh. the sight of her smile put an unstoppable grin on his face. he wondered if making her laugh would ever stop feeling like a major victory.

they left the bar and stepped out into the sun with their drinks. casey sat down on the side of the pool, by the steps, and dangled her legs in the water. his eyes were drawn to the way they stretched out in front of her, and he shook his head as he instead waded down the steps and into the shallow end of the pool, up to his waist. it’d probably do him some good to cool off.

“what d’you feel like doing tonight?” she asked, kicking her feet back and forth.

“hmmm. if you’re not passed out by 6:30, i guess i’ll buy you dinner.”

she scoffed indignantly, kicking her foot up so water splashed him in the chest. “hey! i’m not going to pass out. it’s just a few drinks.”

“uh huh.” his voice was flat with disbelief. “out in the sun. on an empty stomach. and you’re, you know -- tiny.”

“i am not.” she kicked both feet this time, splashing him harder. reflexively, bryce’s hand swung out and grabbed her ankle.

“cut it out,” he laughed, “or i’ll dunk you.”

“you wouldn’t dare.”

she seemed very sure of herself. bryce tugged on her leg, just enough to make her slip forward an inch on the side of the pool. he was gratified by the way casey immediately shrieked, twisting in his hold as she tried to wiggle away.

“don’t!”

“relax,” he laughed, drumming his fingers on the bare skin of her calf before reluctantly letting her go, dropping casey’s leg back into the water, “i’ll wait until you finish your drink.”

the only problem was that by the time she finished her drink, casey was starting to get giggly, touchy and loud when she slipped into the water with him and started splashing. she always seemed to have the ability to make him forget absolutely everything on his mind in favor of having fun, and today was no exception. he felt half-drunk just from laughing with her, letting her play at wrestling him in the water until the sun set and they started to get cold.

“c’mon, michael phelps,” he said finally, his gaze fond and affectionate as it lingered on the line of her chattering jaw, “let’s get you upstairs.”

casey leaned on him for support as they made their way back to the room, mumbling sleepily under his arm. bryce made sure to nod along dutifully to everything she said, humming his agreement to keep her placated.

“why don’t you take the first shower? i’ll order room service.”

casey pouted at him as he finally let her go in the doorway to the bathroom. “you’re not coming with me?”

his laugh was high-pitched, caught off guard. “into the shower?”

she nodded. “i need help.”

well... maybe he could just get her situated. he moved further into the bathroom to turn the shower on, reaching for casey’s elbow to help guide her gently into the tub. instantly, she started wrestling with her bikini top, tugging at the straps.

he backed away as quickly as he possibly could. “okay, looks like you’re all set. i’ll be right out here, just call if you need anything.”

the words were exhaled in a rush, and he pulled the door shut behind him with finality before she could argue. jesus.

somehow, she was even more adorable when she came out of the shower. she was wearing one of the fluffy hotel robes and had her hair in a towel; casey was sunburned across her nose and cheeks. she bounced down onto the bed with a big grin. her eyes lit up when she saw all the food he’d ordered. “oooooh, pancakes!”

this was going to be the longest night of his life. he swallowed, heading to the shower. “yep -- i’ll be right back.”

bryce locked the door, trying not to think about the fact that she’d just been in here, naked -- but it was hard to ignore when he almost slipped on her wet bikini and broke his neck. he glared at his reflection in the half-fogged mirror. get a grip. now.

the shower helped clear his head somewhat. he stayed under the spray for longer than he probably should have, until the water ran cold. the only thing that forced him out was the thought of whatever food casey had left, and eventually, he couldn’t ignore his growling stomach any longer. tucking one of the towels around his waist, he stepped out of the bathroom, wary of the quiet that greeted him.

casey had gotten changed into her pajamas while he was showering, and her hair was out of the towel, now, loose and long and damp across her pillow. empty plates sat around her on the bed. she smiled softly at him when he walked towards his bag to grab something to wear. “i left you the burger.”

“thanks.” it was dark outside, now, so the glow from the tv was the only thing illuminating her. she looked almost unfairly beautiful, and, not for the first time, he wondered how he was supposed to sleep next to her tonight and keep his hands to himself like a good friend would. this sucked.

he ducked back into the bathroom to change, forcing himself not to think too much about it. he could act normal around her -- he’d been getting pretty good at it, actually, back in boston. he doubted she had a clue about the way he really felt -- he’d been careful to keep it that way.

bryce’s pep-talk motivated him enough to make it through his burger, only sneaking glances her way. casey had her eyes on the tv, half-lidded, absently scrolling through her phone on the commercials. she was curled up under the covers, closer to the center of the bed than he thought she’d be. she was dangerously close to being on his side of the mattress.

bryce took his time clearing away everything from their room service order, brushing his teeth, making sure everything was back in his bag -- anything to delay getting in bed. finally, there wasn’t any more avoiding it. he pulled back the sheets on the empty side of the mattress and slipped in beside her.

she rolled onto her side and grinned at him. “hi.”

“hey,” he laughed, trying not to seem as nervous as he felt. “fancy meeting you here.”

casey giggled, the sound morphing into a wide yawn halfway through. “that sun really kicked my ass,” she murmured, rubbing her cheek against the pillow. fuck, it was so cute.

“you’re a lightweight,” he ribbed gently, his eyes lingering on the easy slant of her smile. “you’d never make it out in hawaii.”

her brow furrowed, and she frowned at him. “yes i would,” she argued, sunburned and exhausted, drunk from one pineapple cocktail. a rush of affection for her made the shake of his head fond.

“you should get some sleep. we have a long day of lectures tomorrow.”

she sighed, pushing nearer to the center of the bed. her cheek was resting on the very edge of her pillow, right where it met his. before bryce could stop himself, he rolled in closer, too, until they were just a few inches apart. under the sheets, her hand reached out and lightly rested on his arm.

“bryce...” casey started, her voice hushed -- almost thoughtful. up close, her eyes were very wide and very, very pretty. she leaned in, until he could count every single one of her eyelashes.

unwillingly, his gaze dropped to her lips. before he could stop her, casey closed the last breath of distance between them and kissed him.

fireworks exploded behind his eyelids. bryce shifted on the sheets, leaning into her touch. the hand she had on his arm squeezed encouragingly, and then casey twisted her fingers in the sleeve of his shirt and leaned forward to kiss him harder. for a moment, he let himself give in, greedily swallowing the happy sigh she exhaled into his mouth, kissing her back just as eagerly as she was kissing him.

god, he’d been wanting this. it felt undeniably amazing, like flying -- like excelling in surgery, like graduating med school, like winning at anything mundane that soothed his competitive streak nonetheless. his hand reached up to tangle in her hair as he took advantage of her parted lips, slipping his knee between her legs.

then, alarm bells started ringing off in the back of his mind, pushing through the fog her lips had brought with them. what was he doing?

bryce reached up and pushed her away, breathing hard. casey’s eyes flew open and she stared at him in surprise, her cheeks flushed beneath her sunburn. “what’s wrong?”

his stomach twisted. “you’re drunk.” here she was -- everything he’d ever wanted, presented to him in a way he couldn’t accept. fuck.

“i’m not,” she insisted, but her eyes were glassy. he’d spent enough time with drunk casey to recognize her when he saw her.

“you are,” bryce repeated gently, “so we can’t --”

“look, if you don’t want to --”

she was starting to sound annoyed. he sighed. “i do want to. more than anything, but... not like this, okay? i want you to -- know what you’re doing, if we ever...”

he trailed off, looking away. he’d imagined it a thousand times, in a million different scenarios. he’d given it more thought than he probably should have -- more thought than a good friend of hers would. he’d always assumed that maybe it would happen after a night out where she was still clearheaded enough to be sure, maybe on a weekend they weren’t working -- maybe if he ever bit the bullet and asked her to dinner, maybe after that...

but not like this.

“i know what i’m doing, bryce.” she was glaring at him. in none of the scenarios he’d imagined was she looking at him like that. “but since you obviously don’t want to, i’ll just go to bed.”

his jaw clenched as he bit back another sigh, and he scrubbed his hand down the front of his face with frustration. “casey --”

she abruptly turned around to face the wall, rolling away from him, back onto her side of the bed. “goodnight, bryce.”

right. like he could sleep now.

eventually he managed, somehow, though when his alarm went off he felt like he’d barely slept a wink, groggy and disoriented and annoyed.

he stared at the ceiling as it all slowly came back to him, worsening his headache. he knew without turning his head that casey was still in bed with him, and he privately let himself feel a twinge of irritation at her, for getting so mad at him last night.

it seemed ridiculous that she could ever think he wouldn’t want to kiss her. casey was smarter than that -- she should have known how he felt.

although... he hadn’t exactly told her. bryce’s eyes narrowed up at the ceiling, his annoyance giving way to determination. before he could talk himself out of it, like he had so many other times before in the interest of preserving their friendship, he turned towards the center of the bed. bryce reached out and shook casey’s shoulder until she opened her eyes.

“what? i’m up, what?”

“are you sober?”

“huh? i’m hungover, if that’s what you’re asking --”

he closed the distance between them, cutting her off with a kiss. casey stilled against him, and for a moment he felt delirious with panic, the sound of his heartbeat abnormally loud in his ears. fuck. fuck. fuck. you’re an idiot. you fucked it all up.

of course she’d only kissed him last night because she’d been drunk. now things were going to be weird -- and they were friends, and he loved hanging out with her -- and everyone else was going to know things were weird --

casey shifted against the sheets, pressing her lips more firmly to his. she started to kiss him back, sighing sweetly into his mouth. her hands rested gently on his shoulders and she pulled him closer, lining up her body against his.

somehow this felt even more panic-inducing, ratcheting his pulse up further. he’d kissed a lot of girls before, but none of them had ever made him feel like this.

his hand laid hesitantly on her waist, his touch carefully light. but he kept kissing her back, slowly moving his lips against hers. after a moment, she reached down and pushed his hand up under her top confidently, until his palm brushed against the bare skin of her stomach.

bryce jerked forward in surprise, but recovered easily enough, deciding to roll with the punches. his hand moved around to her back, pushing her shirt up, and he nudged her in closer until she shifted to throw a leg over his waist; casey’s fingers ran through his hair, pulling him effortlessly out of his own head.

he let her roll on top of him, welcoming her happily into his lap. she leaned down until their chests were pressed together, kissing him more forcefully -- more like the way he’d always imagined she’d kiss, headstrong like she did everything else.

she gasped against his lips when his fingertips dragged up her spine, and that was what finally made him break apart from her. he opened his eyes to meet hers. “are you okay?”

“yeah,” she confirmed. her eyes swept his face like she couldn’t quite believe what she was seeing. “are you sure you want to --”

he leaned in and cut her off with another kiss, the movement of his lips softer this time to match how tender he felt towards her. she swatted playfully at his shoulder.

“stop doing that.”

“sorry,” he said unapologetically, smiling. “yeah, of course i’m sure. i’ve wanted to do this for -- pretty much forever. i just wanted to be sure that you were sure. and last night...”

“don’t.” casey shook her head. she bit her lip on a smile. “i get it. and i appreciate it. i didn’t mean to get pissed at you. it just felt like... you were turning me down.”

“do you think i’m that stupid? i know you give me a lot of shit for my pretty face, but there is actually a brain up here.” bryce grinned unabashedly up at her, gratified by the way she laughed.

“i mean -- i guess i kind of always thought maybe... you liked me, but... i don’t know! sometimes it seemed you were like that with everyone, or you were just being friendly...” her voice trailed off, and she shrugged.

he shook his head. “it wasn’t for everyone. it was just for you.”

the sound she made had him feeling warm all over. casey ducked her head, her hair obscuring the expression on her face -- which just wouldn’t do, so he lifted his hand to brush her hair behind her ear, instead, cupping her cheek until she met his eyes.

casey trailed her fingers over the fabric of his t-shirt, making him shiver. “if we don’t start getting ready, we’re going to be late.”

he knew she was right. still... “i don’t care.”

she huffed out a laugh, drawing circles over his chest with the tip of her index finger. “i care. everyone’s going to grill us on what we learned when we get back on monday. we’ll need something to tell them.”

“we can make it up,” he suggested desperately, reaching for her hips to keep her exactly where she was. “check out the online highlights on our flight back. there has to be a summary somewhere.”

“bryce,” she chided, but it looked like she was wavering. he craned his head to press a kiss to the underside of her jaw, slowly moving down her neck. casey sighed breathlessly, tilting her head to the side. “bryce.”

“what?” his mouth moved slowly over her skin, down towards her collarbone. “i’m not doing anything.”

“right,” she sighed, obviously considering his suggestion. she was quiet for a moment, as his lips trailed dangerously low toward the neckline of her tank top, and then she pushed his head away. “c’mon. we’ll pick this back up later.”

he squeezed her hips one last time before she slipped away. “promise?”

casey reached for one of the pillows beside him and whacked him with it before she jumped off the bed. “promise, now hurry up! we’re going to be late.”

they weren’t. they made it into the first lecture with about ninety seconds to spare, slipping into the back of the audience and taking the last two seats together.

he tried his best to focus on whatever the expert was saying, but it wasn’t as easy as he’d hoped when casey’s promise kept coming back to him. we’ll pick this back up later.

bryce spent most of the day fidgeting restlessly, bouncing his leg, tapping his fingers on his knee, trying to find excuses to touch casey whenever possible. it was almost impossible to think about anything else, other than what she might’ve meant by this and when they could get to later.

his impatience only got worse when a group of other residents their age invited them to a happy hour and casey grinned widely, like she had no other plans or no where else to be. “sure, sounds fun! we’ll see you over there.”

as he tugged her towards the elevator, she looked at him in confusion. “why are we going upstairs? do you want to change or something?”

“or something,” he mumbled, glancing pointedly at the other people waiting for the elevator and then back to her, his gaze heavy with intent.

he could see the moment she caught on, realization dawning across her expression. casey ducked her head on a wide grin as the elevator climbed to their floor.

as soon as the doors opened, bryce grabbed her wrist and pulled her through the crowd. “excuse us.”

casey laughed as she stumbled out after her. they both rushed down the hallway to the door of their room, and bryce tapped his key card as quickly as he possibly could, turning around once the door was open to pull casey inside.

she bounced up on her toes to kiss him, throwing her arms around his neck. his hands settled at the small of her back and lifted her up until she was close enough that he could kiss her hard, groaning against her lips.

the door swung shut behind them with a bang. bryce ignored it, walking them both over to the bed. he laid casey down gently onto her back and crawled over her without separating their lips, as close as he could get.

casey was tugging insistently at the collar of his shirt. he huffed a laugh against her lips, breaking away to move his mouth down the side of her neck he hadn’t yet explored. “impatient?”

“you have no idea,” she mumbled, seemingly focusing all her attention on undoing the buttons of his shirt. “it feels like i’ve been thinking about this for forever.”

“you?” he demanded, laughing incredulously. “please. if you could spend even one minute inside my head...”

his voice trailed off meaningfully. casey’s head tipped back against the mattress, shooting him a heart-stopping grin. “oh, yeah?”

“yes.” he had no idea how he could ever begin to articulate the way he felt to her -- how much he liked her, how smart, beautiful, cool and passionate he thought she was -- how much time he spent thinking about her exactly like this and a number of other ways, too, asleep in his arms and waking up to kiss him good morning and sneaking off in the hospital with him to hook up somewhere quiet...

so he’d have to show her.

in the morning, he woke up much the same way as the day before -- disoriented, a little grumpy, a little confused -- but also wholly different.

casey was asleep soundly in his arms, her back against his chest. his face was buried in the space between her neck and shoulder, her hair tickling his face and filling his nose with the scent of hotel shampoo.

she was naked.

his life rocked.

bryce hid his smile in her hair and let himself fall back asleep. when he woke again, it was because casey’s alarm was going off, reminding them they had to leave for the airport, soon.

she groaned. he pressed a kiss to the back of her neck, nuzzling her bare skin. “morning, you.”

“morning.” casey sighed, turning over in his arms to face him. “do we really have to go?”

he pressed the briefest kiss to her lips. it was over too quickly. “yeah. but if we hurry -- we can probably fit in a shower first.”

“mmmm.” casey kissed him again, running her hands over his bare shoulders. “you mean... if we saved time and showered together, right?”

“duh.”

he didn’t start getting nervous until they were actually on the plane. casey kept him pretty distracted up until then -- pulling him into the shower, joking with him through security, buying him breakfast once they made it to their gate. he let himself get caught up in how right it felt to hold her hand and kiss her whenever he wanted and be on the receiving end of those sweet, private smiles she kept sending his way, and forgot to panic about what would happen once they were back in boston until they’d left the ground.

he couldn’t help but to think about it now, though. a glance at casey confirmed that it hardly seemed like anything was on her mind at all -- she was eating a chocolate bar slowly, breaking it off, square by square. there was a celebrity tabloid in her lap that she hadn’t opened yet.

bryce gently nudged his shoulder into hers. “hey.”

“hey,” she returned easily, looking up at him with a smile. “something on your mind?”

he blinked. “actually -- yeah.”

casey laughed. “i could hear you thinking. it sounded painful.”

there she was again, making him laugh -- distracting him from his own wild thoughts, getting him out of his head and lightening some of the weight on his shoulders. “shut up.”

“seriously, what is it? you can tell me.”

he drew in a breath. “it’s just -- i guess i’m just thinking about what’s going to happen... when we get home. with us.”

“oh.” she seemed to consider it for the first time. “well -- i guess it’ll probably take everyone awhile to stop making fun of us. but we don’t work together much, so i can’t imagine we’d have to tell anyone at edenbrook. uh, why are you looking at me like that?”

he was stunned. “i just -- i guess i didn’t expect you to say that. i’m obviously -- thrilled, don’t get me wrong, but... are you sure you don’t want some time to think about it first?”

casey shrugged. bryce watched as she finished her chocolate bar and dusted off her hands. without hesitating, she reached over and grabbed his hand, linking their fingers together. “i don’t need to,” she answered simply. “i know this is what i want. do you?”

he nodded, letting the awe and admiration he felt for her in that moment show plainly on his face. “yes,” he answered, “this is -- perfect. even better than i’d imagined.”

“good.” she leaned her head on his shoulder, looking out the window. bryce followed her gaze, watching the clouds as they passed them by. “‘cause you’re gonna have to get used to it. dating me is going to be an experience.”

he laughed, squeezing her hand again before slumping down in his seat, finally able to relax. “you and me both, babe.”

#yes i ripped this exact plot point from the game and what about it #bryce lahela #bryce lahela x mc #open heart #casey valentine #bryce x mc #bryce x casey #bryce lahela x casey valentine #myfic #we love bed sharing !!#thanks choices sleepover saturday for reminding me how much i love this trope

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kitsuragied · 3 years

Text

Hamlaf Coffee Shop AU

This is the fic I was talking about in my last post! It’s pure fluff, and I love it. Tell me what you think, reblog and comments are always appreciated! I think I missed the “Alex is a food rider” part, but oh well. Below is the inspiration, done by @shanshala, who is absolutely amazing.

Lafayette smiled at the coffee shop counter. His hair was tied up in a big poofball bun, he was wearing the signature white shirt and purple apron of the shop that contrasted nicely with his dark skin, and a perfect customer-service smile. He was ready to start his shift.

And then in came human hurricane Alexander Hamilton, the bell tinkling as he shoved the door open, clearly in a rush, cheeks pink from the cold outside. Lafayette felt his customer-service smile drop, replaced by an absolutely lovesick expression.

“Bonjour again, Alexandre,” he said, grinning charmingly at Alexander, who huffed. “I need a black coffee with four expresso shots, nothing else,” he said, hopping from one foot to the other impatiently. Lafayette laughed, going to the coffee machine. “You seem to run on coffee,” he observed, and it was true. Every day without fail he came running in, ordered a black coffee with an insanely unhealthy amount of caffeine, and ran back out in a hurry.

Alexander nodded, not in the mood for small talk. “I do, which is why I need that coffee,” he said. Normally other baristas would be indignant, and in fact several other employees had quit the morning shift just to avoid Alexander. But Lafayette found this incredibly endearing, and he’d volunteered for it, begged for the shift, in fact. He was quite the romantic. But still, he wasn’t in too deep, he told himself; the manager paid him extra to work the shift. So it was practical as well.

Lafayette smiled, writing “Alexandre” in loopy cursive on the cup and handing it over. “Bonne journée, mon Alexandre,” he called after Alex’s retreating figure. Receiving no response, he sighed dramatically, returning to the coffee machine. He didn’t see Alexander admiring the fancy cursive Sharpie on his cup as he turned the corner.

This pattern continued as it always had; Alexander would rush in, Lafayette would flirt shamelessly with him, and then he’d leave, and Lafayette would pine. Then one day Alexander just…. stopped coming.

“What happened? Do you know where he went?” Lafayette asked Hercules the next day, trying desperately to be casual. He failed, judging by the huge grin on his friend’s face. “Why do you care?” he asked, knowing full well why. “No reason, curious only,” he said, flustered. “Well, I heard he went on vacation,” Hercules said. Lafayette nodded. “Ah.” And so he set about his day, resigned to wait until his Alexandre came back.

And he did. Two weeks later, he came back, hair in a messy bun that somehow seemed to endear him even more to Lafayette. He approached the counter and Lafayette immediately got to work on his order, knowing it by heart after months. “How was your vacation?” he asked flippantly, hoping for a response, even though the more rational part of his brain told him that he’d probably get a grumpy one-word answer in response.

To his surprise, Alexander started talking. “Oh my god, it was horrible! Well, the vacation itself was pretty fun, me and a buddy went down to LA, and yes, it’s way more sunny than the Seattle weather here, I swear I was almost blinded-” Lafayette giggled- “but once I got used to it, it was complete heaven, like, it was actually warm! Can you believe that?” Not stopping for an answer, he continued on. “And the beaches were amazing! But the horrible part was that all the hippies there made the coffee shops assume that I wanted, like, creamer or something,” he said, emphasizing creamer as if it was some instrument of the devil. “And the barista at the coffee shop near the place me and my buddy rented was horrible, just yes or no answers, not friendly at all! The customer service in LA sucks,” he finished. Noticing Lafayette staring at him, he blushed slightly. “Sorry, I know I haven’t been the best customer either,” he said sheepishly. Lafayette began to reassure him that it was no problem, really, but Alexander talked on. “But yeah, really, sorry for that, y’all must go through some shitty people,” he said, still talking at the rapid pace he had been for the past five minutes. “Oh my god, was I talking too much? Sometimes I get overexcited, shoot off at the mouth, I’ve been told it’s very annoying,” he said quietly.

Lafayette wasn’t a very violent person, but at that moment he wanted to punch whoever told him it was annoying. How could anyone possibly say that, with the way Alexander’s eyes shined as he talked and the passionate way he described everything? Lafayette felt like he’d melt any second, he was so smitten. “It is alright, Alexandre,” he said. “I quite enjoy it, actually.” He winked. Alexander flushed, but recovered quickly. “Oh yeah, I forgot- the worst thing about that coffee shop in LA was that the barista was nowhere near as attractive,” he said, grinning. Lafayette blushed. “Is that so? Perhaps time away from me has made you realize you’ve grown attached?”

Alexander grinned. “Exactly.” There was silence for a bit as Lafayette busied himself with adding something extra on his cup, handing it over as Alex’s phone pinged. He pulled it out of his pocket, grabbing the coffee with a hurried “thanks” and rushing out the door, same as always.

Except several hours later, when Alex got off the phone with his boss, he found a number written elegantly beneath his name, in which Lafayette had added a little heart.

And several hours later, Lafayette felt his phone buzz as he cleaned up in preparation to go home.

“Bonjour?” “Hey Laf! This is Alex.”

And several weeks later, the number labeled “❤️Alexandre❤️” texted him, telling him to meet at the park.

And several minutes later he was there, Alexander looking nervous as he sat across the park bench from him, fumbling with his words.

And several hours later, Lafayette left, lovesick smile on his face as he kissed his new boyfriend goodnight.

And years after that first time, he was kissing Alexander again, this time in celebration as a ring glinted on his finger.

Yes, the customer service is trashy eight times out of ten in LA (although there are some really nice people) and yes, it’s set in Seattle because I just thought it fit. And yes, I’ve been there, and yes, the weather is very grey, although I might be biased because I’m used to sunlight.

oh yeah, and the Space Needle is awesome.

#ficlet #hamilton #hamilton fanfiction #hamlaf #hamlaf fanfiction #hamilton ficlet #alexander hamilton #marquis de lafayette #lafayette #coffee shop AU

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silence-burns · 4 years

Text

Please Hate Me //part 25

Fandom: Marvel

Summary: Based on “Imagine having a love/hate relationship with Loki.” by @thefandomimagine

The smell hit you square in the face before you marched in. The delicious combination of roasted meat, seasonings, spices, and old man's sweat combined with the hunger rolling in your stomach made you drool.

"Are you sure this is the right place?" Loki frowned, inspecting the crowded interior, which would be easy if there were enough working light bulbs.

"Of course! Can't you smell it?"

Loki, in fact, could smell a lot, but that didn't mean he was happy about it.

You grabbed his arm and dragged him to the old man leaning over the counter. The magazine in front of him looked ancient and stained, the pages dogeared as if it was passed from one generation to another. The man didn't raise his eyes.

You pointed to the equally stained menu hanging next to him. "So, what do you want?" you asked, as if the names told Loki anything.

"What is that?"

"Meat."

"And that?"

"Spicy meat."

"And those?"

"Absolutely devastatingly delicious meat with a bit of—"

"I think I’ve got the hang of it. I'll take this one."

"And I'll take the usual for me and the kid!" you added to the man behind the counter. The heavy scent of cheap cigarettes and cheaper manners parted for a moment when he nodded without a word and moved to the back.

Loki raised an eyebrow. "Is that normal?"

You maneuvered him through the thicket of plastic tables and chairs. "Of course, he's a real sweetheart! He always gives me some extra toppings for free. We've known each other for like 5 years, and I think he can read my thoughts by now."

"And what's his name?"

"I have no idea, I've never heard him speak."

You chose the booth by the windows. There were only a few people in the room, and no one gave you a second glance when you passed them. Loki had no idea what had made him think he'd for once eat some quality food.

At least the seats seemed to be clean, and the booth gave you the faintest illusion of some privacy, which Loki was thankful for. He looked at his reflection in the glass and ran his hand over his features again. The wet, sticky feeling of foreign magic didn't leave him. The window showed him his own familiar features, staring with defiance and anger in his eyes. The spell must've been working, though, for no one on the streets recognized him so far.

"Still angry?" you asked with your elbows on the table.

"Once I get my powers back, I'll show that pathetic excuse of a sorcerer what true magic looks like—"

His promises were cut short by a boy rushing into the bar, his hair in disarray, and was clearly looking for someone. You waved and gestured for him to take the order that was just finished.

"Hey, guys, sorry I'm late." Peter slid into the seat on the other side of the table, still out of breath. "My class had to take care of organization of the projects for the science fair and I volunteered to—”

The boy continued to spit words breathlessly, and Loki listened to him only partly. The tray the boy brought with him absorbed most of his focus. Two of the three dishes on it were quickly distributed between Peter and you, which left Loki no choice but to suspect the third was meant for him.

"If I die," he said, reaching for the plate. "I'm going to haunt you for the rest of your miserable lives and then make your afterlives hell."

Peter sighed with pure love in his eyes. "I'd love to be haunted by you, Mr Mischief sir!"

"Don't speak with your mouth full."

"I'm sorry, Mr Mischief sir!"

Loki sighed. Stabbing the dish with his fork did not ease his frustration, which was very disappointing.

The first few bites he took, encouraged with a suspicious amount of support, were not the worst. It was difficult to feel the original flavor because of the amount of seasoning, but overall Loki had to admit the nameless chef knew what he was doing.

"He likes it," you cheered to an equally happy Peter. The boy's plate was almost empty already. "So, now that we've secured ourselves a peaceful afterlives, tell me about that science fair. Have you finally finished your project?"

"I have a lot on my shoulders right now," Peter said. "Especially since I agreed to help with the organization of it all, and the logistics create one problem after another. I spent last night working on—"

A knowing smile raised your lips. You nudged Loki. "I bet he only agreed to help because MJ asked him to."

"Who's MJ?" Loki frowned, slicing the food with surgical precision.

"Peter's girlfriend."

"She's not my—We don't—..."

Loki nodded, assessing the boy with piercing green eyes. Peter slid down his seat, hiding his bright red face under his suddenly sweaty hand.

You leaned over the table and patted his arm while Loki continued with his food. "She seems really cool. And I like her temper."

Peter cleared his throat. "I… really appreciate that, but can we not talk about it for a second?"

"Sure. So, what's been going on, other than you struggling with the project's deadline, making ends meet with the fair, and not thinking about MJ?"

"Well, I…" Peter looked around the place, and made sure no one was close before leaning closer, in a totally not suspicious way. "I have been hanging around the neighborhood, you know, in the suit, like I always do, and I've heard about some very nasty business going on there lately."

"What kind of business? Someone replacing people's potted flowers with other flowers?"

Loki stopped chewing. "What kind of person would do that?"

"I did, when I was nine and on my way to ballet class. I wanted them to see the world, meet new people..."

Loki looked at you without a word for a very long moment. Then he turned his attention back to the boy. "What kind of business?"

"Well, I don't really know yet. But I'm working on it! The thing is, I hang around a lot, and meet a lot of people, and there's this one lovely old Romanian lady that always makes me sandwiches and never asks why I swoop by her balcony in the suit in the middle of the night, and she's really cool, but lonely, and that's why she sits on that balcony all the time. She's old, but she still has a very good sight, which is why she's noticed that there were so many dangerous-looking people around lately, and cars that look exactly like in those movies about organized crime and they haven’t started any trouble yet, but she doesn't feel safe. So, she told me about this and I've been looking into it for the past couple of nights, and I definitely have a lead, but I don't really have time for it at the moment."

You picked food from your teeth. Loki tried not to see it.

"So, you don't know shit," you rephrased Peter's monologue.

"It's not like that, I know sh—stuff! I just… have yet to investigate it properly…"

"And you don't have time for that, which you've already unsubtly hinted more than twice."

A blush creeped back onto his cheeks. Peter avoided your eyes. "There's one more obstacle, actually… "

"What a surprise." Loki fished a handkerchief from his pocket and cleaned his already spotless mouth. "What's the matter then, boy?"

Peter seemed to shrink in his seat. "I found a suspicious place, but… It's for adults. They didn't let me in, even in the suit..."

You failed to contain your laugh, which made Peter disappear under the table more. Loki only sighed, with something close to resignation.

"That actually explains a lot—Could you please stop cackling like an idiot for a second?" Loki snapped while you fought for breath, laying on the table. Loki decided to ignore the strangled sounds you were making, and turned to Peter, barely visible but still bright red. "I have a feeling that your little investigation hit a dead end, which usually results in asking someone more experienced for help."

"I… Hoped you'd agree to help me. I don't really have anyone else, and the Avengers are already busy with the stuff they don't want to tell me about."

Loki blinked. He fell into his own hole.

You seemed to realise it too, for you mastered yourself at last and looked at him with a devilish grin. "What a coincidence, Peter, sweetie. It looks like we're not busy. Or are we, oh dear god?"

Peter watched through his fingers as blood began boiling in Loki. It probably had something to do with the proximity of your face, shamelessly grinning, to his, with a brow twitching. Peter was by no means an expert, but he had a suspicion that one more reason for Loki's foul mood could be the finger you poked his cheek with. He snapped a photo almost absentmindedly, barely touching his phone.

"So, what do you say, oh dear god, to the pleas of your humble believer? Will you turn a blind eye to the struggles of those who can't help themselves? Will you blatantly refuse to recognize the trust put in you…?"

"Okay, okay, I get it!" Loki snapped finally, pushing you away with his elbow. "It's not like I planned to refuse, mind you!"

Peter gasped. "So you're in?"

"Uhh…"

"I knew I could count on you, guys!"

The boy's arms locked over Loki's and your neck, bending you awkwardly over the table for the hug. "We're going to fight crime together!"

You patted his back, wishing you could see Loki's face, currently pressed into Peter's other arm. Loki was silent as the grave.

Peter released you after a moment. A smile was splitting his face in half, and his eyes were suspiciously watery. "I knew I could count on you!"

"Any time, kid. We fight monsters, kidnappers, and now solve crimes. We're a whole package. We should get a business card and start advertising."

Loki was of a different opinion, but he remained silent. Watching the boy's excitement and gratitude filled him with something that, if you tried really hard, almost resembled happiness. Almost was the key word. He was above such simple pleasures as feeling useful.

"Oh, I forgot to ask you something," Peter started, rummaging through his pockets. "I bought something for MJ, because she was talking a lot about Lord of the Rings lately, but I'm not sure if it'd be a good idea to give this to her. It's not the same as the One Ring, but it kinda resembles it, right?"

And then he showed you precisely what your own heart desired.

The golden shimmer, the polished smoothness and the gentle, intertwined design of hair-thin letters that spoke directly to your soul. It was everything you ever needed, if only 'ever' could be restricted to the past hour.

Loki paled and dared a look at you. His own heart shuddered, and rose up his throat. The air was thick and full of possibilities.

You broke into a smile.

"Peter, my dearest boy, do you think that we could borrow it for a few hours?" you chirped sweetly. There was an edge in your voice that made Peter shiver, even though he could not tell why.

He swallowed and nodded. He was unsure what string of events his decision would initiate—he only hoped that the world would be ready for it. At least a team of heroes lived in the same city.

He looked at his watch. "I have to run back now, because my break ends soon, but thank you guys so much for everything! I'll call you later and give you the address of, you know, The Place!"

The boy rushed back to school, waving to you and then the owner who didn't raise his head from the magazine. Loki watched the boy run through the whitened street, careful of not slipping on ice, and not so careful about making other people slip.

Gold reflected in the window. He looked at the tiny ring in your hands and then at your utterly feral smile.

"I thought we were supposed to be the good guys," he said. "The good guys wouldn't do that."

You clicked your tongue. "Who said anything about being good? As far as I remember, we've only agreed on not being the evil ones. There's a tiny line in between those two concepts, and I must admit I feel very comfortable walking on it. Aren't you?"

A corner of Loki's lips twitched.

"You don't walk on it—you waltz all over it, and trample both sides equally whenever it suits you…"

You waited.

"...and I love it."

#Please Hate Me #loki x reader #loki x you #loki/reader #loki/you #loki #Loki Laufeyson x Reader #Loki Laufeyson #loki laufeyson x you #loki laufeyson/reader #loki laufeyson/you #marvel #loki marvel #loki mcu #loki imagine

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