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separatist-apologist · 1 year

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What A Time To Be Alive

I just need someone to hold me, even though you don't even know me

Summary: The prompt was: Modern AU where Lucien is a tiktoker who posts POVs and Elain always wants to duet them to be the love interest he’s talking to but she doesn’t bc how could he ever be interested in a girl like her… UNTIL SHE DOES

Note: Big thanks AND dedicated to @ablogofbipanic who thought she could give me unwritable prompts. I'll write anything.

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Elain Archeron recognized that deck. Recognized the parking lot below and, when the camera zoomed out for a moment, recognized the white coup sitting in a patch of hot California sun. That was her apartment complex broadcast to an audience of one point two million people.

And her upstairs neighbor filming another tiktok.

Jackinthefox. Everyone thought his name read Jack, but Elain knew his name was actually Lucien Vanserra given how often his mail was shoved into her slot. Mostly junk coupled with the occasional energy bill. Lucien, with his sun kissed, golden brown skin and auburn hair that fell past his shoulders. She’d caught him in the basement gym once, lifting weights in a shirt so loose she could see all the carved muscle just beneath.

She’d started working out at night to avoid him.

It seemed Elain couldn’t avoid him on tiktok, though. No matter how quickly she swiped through his videos on her feed, they always came back. Look at me, they seemed to demand. Look at how handsome I am.

Yeah, yeah. Lucien was absurdly good looking, a fact he must have been well aware of. To his credit, he didn’t react to the thirst comments people left for him like other tiktokkers. And he always kept his shirt on, which honestly was a crime. If the women following him learned what lurked beneath, they’d riot.

Lucien did dance, occasionally, though always to 90’s boybands—Elain liked those videos best, not that she’d ever admit it. What Lucien did, primarily, were POV’s to popular television shows. Usually the Office, though he did a fair amount of New Girl, too. And women practically lined up to duet him, hoping to be the Jim to his Pam.

While Lucien had exploded in popularity during quarantine, Elain had a more modest following of ten thousand people following her for her aesthetic baking videos. And while Elain had a good time baking bread in cute aprons in front of her window, what she secretly wanted was to duet Lucien back.

She didn’t have the guts. What was worse, she thought, was duetting him, being ignored, and having to give him his mail when it was inevitably put in her box again. He’d know she had a crush on him and probably laugh behind her back.

Or maybe not—but Elain didn’t dare risk it. Not when she had one of the last affordable and nice units left in California. Close to the beach, within walking distance of her favorite grocery store…and with the hot, upstairs neighbor.

It was hot that day, which made going to the store a miserable venture. Elain was making lemon bars and had run out of nearly everything. If there was a hell, surely it was hauling massive canvas bags of flour, sugar, and lemons in the California heat. By the time she reached her building, Elain was drenched in sweat. In the distance, she could hear the screaming laughter of children in the pool, and the smell of chlorine blew in on a rubber and asphalt scented breeze.

She just wanted to get inside the cold building, to park herself naked in front of a fan, and stay there until winter arrived.

Elain went to yank open the glass door and drag herself up the flight of stairs to her unit. She fumbled with the metal handle, hot beneath the sun and her sweaty fingers.

“I’ve got it,” called a familiar, masculine voice. Honeyed and deep, rich and warm like the day she was so desperate to flee, Lucien Vanserra must have had one of the nicest voices she’d ever heard. A moment later he’d wedged his towering frame in the door so she could slip past. Lucien’s russet colored eyes slid to the bags hanging from her shoulders.

“Want help?” he asked, reaching for one of the straps.

Elain tried to protest— “No, I’ve got it—”

But he’d already taken two bags in one hand like it was nothing to him. He reached for the other two and suddenly Elain was freed of her obligations. She knew he saw how she exhaled with relief, a smile quirking over his full lips. Lucien was in another loose tanktop and basketball shorts.

Like herself, Lucien was slick with sweat, which made her feel a little better. They were both disgusting, which somehow put them on equal footing.

“What are you baking today?” he asked with a sidelong glance. Elain’s eyebrows shot skyward. She followed him up the purple carpeted steps, a relic from some mythical time period in which purple carpet made sense. Though, it did add a certain charm to the otherwise beige, fingerprint stained walls.

“What do you know about my baking?” Elain asked, hoping she sounded appropriately flirty and not breathless with wonder.

“I know that I tried those cranberry bars you posted last week and they turned out like shit.”

“That sounds like user error,” she replied, trying so hard not to grin. He watched her videos? Elain could have died.

“Oh, if definitely was,” he said cheerfully, keeping easy pace with her. “They tasted good, though. What are you making today?”

She swore those eyes of his looked hungry. “Lemon bars.”

Still, he grinned. “Can’t wait to fuck those up, too.”

She could have invited him in. As they reached the landing and her door a mere three steps away, Elain could have asked Lucien to help her bake. Lord knew he would have looked great on camera, even if no one ever saw her face on tiktok. They had to follow her on instagram for that. Still, Lucien’s hands were big and broad and her mostly female audience probably would have liked seeing them as much as Elain liked watching him hold her groceries.

She didn’t invite him in. The words got tangled in her throat, jumbled so when she dug her keys out of her pocket, she heard herself say, “Well…thank you for the help.” “Anytime,” Lucien replied smoothly, handing her the bags without complaint. He didn’t look around her to try and get a glimpse of her apartment, nor did he offer to come in and help. Elain appreciated that so much, though it was truly a low bar in terms of not being pushy.

“Catch you around,” he said with a wink, turning back for the steps. Elain admired the shifting muscles of his back for a moment—just until he rounded the corner. His thundering steps seemed to clear her head, if only a little.

He was just being neighborly. Friendly.

He watched her videos.

The first thing she did the second she got inside was whip out her phone. And sure enough, buried in her notifications, was Lucien Vanserra quietly liking months of baking videos. How many had he made? All those months of agonizing about dueting him while he was liking all her videos and making her recipes…Elain felt giddy.

She felt like pulling out her ring light, after showering and carefully applying her make up, and dueting his latest video.

New Girl.

Elain loved New Girl.

LUCIEN:

Flopped on his couch, phone on the coffee table, Lucien replayed the afternoon in his mind. He’d been looking for an excuse to talk to Elain for the better part of a year. Ever since her sourdough video popped up on his for you page. He’d been in a dark place then—a new transplant to California for grad school, lonely and now quarantined before he’d had the chance to make new friends. Lucien had never felt so isolated in his life. His whole life was on the east coast, and even if he’d wanted to drop out and go home, there were no flights to take him.

He sure as shit wasn’t making that drive, either. So Lucien did what everyone else did, and began mindlessly scrolling tiktok. He’d recognized the kitchen those delicate hands worked in, and though it made him feel a little creepy, he’d followed the link in her bio to her instagram page only to find the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen in his entire life living directly beneath him.

Lucien had tried to stage several run-ins with her. At the gym, in the parking lot, even at the pool though it was closed. Elain had never taken the bait. In fact, she barely looked at him at all. Lucien supposed, with a face as beautiful as hers, he simply didn’t register. That didn’t stop him from trying.

And when he couldn’t make conversation with her in person, Lucien turned back to the internet. He ordered a ring light off amazon and made his first video, hoping she’d see it like he’d seen hers. He’d heard her watching New Girl through the vents so he knew she liked it.

After a year, though, Lucien was starting to think it was time to give up on Elain Archeron. Maybe she had a boyfriend. Maybe he wasn’t her type. Hell, maybe she didn’t even like men. They were still in lockdown, still only supposed to go out for essentials, and maybe Elain didn’t want to risk getting sick on his account.

Lucien had sworn he was going to give up. His titkok had blown up by that point—surely she must have seen him at least once. Must have realized he was her neighbor. She could have liked one of his videos if she’d wanted, and she hadn’t.

All that changed with a little ding of his phone. Lucien reached for it, replaying walking her up to her apartment. She’d looked so good, with her golden brown curls stuck to her sweaty forehead, and how the heat had caused the yellow of her strappy sundress to conform to her tan skin. Lucien had forced his eyes forward and his mind anywhere but how she might look beneath him, just as sweat soaked and flushed. How those little, panting breaths might feel against his neck and fuck he had been so close to asking if she wanted help baking before he’d retreated, half hard just from the nearness of her.

He needed to think about something else. Lucien picked up his phone, illuminated in the last pinky rays of daylight pouring through the sliding glass of his balcony doors. Flipping open his phone, Lucien’s heart leapt into his throat.

Areyoubreadyforit dueted your video!

Lucien’s hands all but shook as he watched. She’d changed into a pretty blue top—or dress, he couldn’t tell—and lipsynced through the words, talking to him. Gorgeous, like always, bright eyed and confessing her pretend feelings for him through the medium of a POV video.

Be cool, he told himself even as he slipped on his shoes. Don’t do anything stupid.

Famous last words as Lucien went outside into the dry heat for the escape ladder that would take him straight down to the parking lot.

Or her deck, a floor below.

This is charming, he told himself, well aware he was skirting the line of crazed upstairs stalker. Why not go down the hall and knock on her front door? It was too late—the minute his feet hit the wood, Elain Archeron looked up from the kitchen. Her eyes went wide when she saw him, cheeks covered in a light dusting of flour.

Lucien raised his hand and mouthed, hey.

Elain came to the door, wiping her hands on a pretty pink and white dotted apron. “Hey,” she said, clearly surprised. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah,” he lied. What Lucien really wanted to say was I like you, but that felt too much given he was standing on her deck like a maniac all because she’d dueted one video. “I ah—I came to see if you wanted any help. With your bars, I mean.”

“Oh,” she murmured, her eyes sweeping over his body. He’d showered after the gym, and still he felt self conscious as he pressed a hand to his stomach through the white fabric of his shirt. “I was actually about to make dinner.”

Lucien’s stomach fell for only a moment as Elain added, “Do you like chicken?”

“I love chicken,” he replied, unwilling to admit he would have eaten trash if she offered it. “Anything to watch the famous Elain Archeron cook.”

Pink stained her cheeks. “Hardly. I think it’s you who is famous, right?”

Lucien followed her into her apartment. The set up was the same—a living room that opened into a kitchen, and a hall that he knew would lead to both a bedroom and a bathroom. Every night, she laid just beneath him.

Maybe tonight, too, if he was lucky. That seemed distinctly like pushing things and yet Lucien still hoped as he closed the door behind him.

“Hardly,” he said, flashing her a smile. She didn’t realize all those followers were merely a monument to his crush on her. Elain glanced over her shoulder, still in the blue dress from the video.

“I guess you saw my duet?”

Her blush was so pretty. Lucien could do nothing but follow after her and try and keep his jaw off the floor. Did she know? Did Elain have any clue the effect she had on him merely by existing? That he wanted to wipe the flour off her face with his tongue?

“It was cute,” he said, bracing his elbows against the counter so he could watch. She wasn’t lying about the chicken—she was currently tying twine around an entire bird she’d seasoned rather nicely. “What took you so long?”

She scoffed. “It was the first interesting video you’d made all year.”

So she had seen them. Lucien’s heart was pounding in his chest. Oh god, oh god, oh god— “Tell me what interests you so I can better curate your experience.”

“I liked the Backstreet Boys videos,” she said, the pretty menace.

“Yeah? And if I make them again, are you going to dance with me?”

Her whole face was flaming red. Elain ducked, sliding her pan into the oven as she said, “I don’t know the steps.”

“I can teach you.” Fuck, Lucien could teach her anything she wanted to know—the steps to cheesy 90’s boy band music, how he liked to be kissed—

“I’ll bet you could,” she replied, those eyes cutting right through him. “Did you come down here to hit on me?”

“That depends,” Lucien grinned back, letting his gaze slide to her mouth. “Do you find it charming or creepy?”

Elain angled her chin as she contemplated. “Charming,” she declared with a pretty smile. Fuck Lucien had to fist his hands at his sides to keep himself casual and in place.

Leaned against the laminate counter, Lucien didn’t dare let his eyes drift below her neck though he fucking wanted to really look at her.

“Does it count as a date if you do all the cooking?”

Elain exhaled a puff of air. “Do you want this to be a date?”

God, Lucien wanted nothing else. He offered her what he prayed was a roguish smile. “Yeah, actually.”

She hesitated. “For…for content?”

“Because I’ve had a pathetic crush on you ever since I moved in,” he replied easily. There was no way in hell he was going to let her think his interest was about titkok fame. One day Lucien would be a lawyer, his tiktoks a blurry memory—his hobby when the world had shut down and nothing more. He had no interest in being an influencer or an actor.

His interest was standing directly in front of him wearing a blue sundress and smeared in flour.

“Oh,” she murmured, her face pink again. “I guess this could be a date. I do have some wine I got from Costco.”

“My favorite,” he lied—again, Lucien would have drank sewer water if she was offering. “I can plan the next date, make it more romantic.”

“Next date?” she teased, pulling out two wine glasses. “You’re awfully confident.”

Lucien only shrugged, at a loss for words. “Hedging my bets.”

Elain offered him a glass of red and when Lucien took a drink, he could hear his older brothers sneering words in his head—grape drink—Eris called anything under one hundred dollars that.

The alcohol took some of the edge off his nerves. Elain was closer than she’d ever been willingly, standing in front of him with that glass pressed to her lips. Lucien wanted to be it, wanted to know what it felt like to have her touch him like that.

“That’s awfully bold,” she said, her voice light and breathless. Fuck fuck fuck.

Lucien set his glass to her nice, round table before he dared a step closer. She was so much shorter than him, would have to lean up on her tiptoes to kiss him if she wanted. God how he hoped she wanted to.

“Isn’t the saying fortune favors the bold?” he murmured, brushing a curl from her cheek. Her skin was so soft, so warm beneath his fingertips. “Maybe it’ll favor me, too.”

Elain looked up through dark, thick lashes. “That was corny.”

He cocked his head as she dared a step toward him and oh my god, this was happening. Lucien didn’t dare breathe when she angled her chin, her thick cascade of hair falling down her shoulders. Eyes bright with invitation. All he had to do was not fuck this up. Just one kiss, which was more than he’d had for an entire year, despite wanting her that long.

“All that matters is that my corny line worked,” he replied, reaching for her cheek. Lucien threaded his fingers through her hair before lowering himself to her. She surged upward, meeting him in the middle for what he thought was the most perfect first kiss in the history of first kisses. She smelled like rosemary and tasted like sugared lemon. Her mouth was soft, her fingers curling against his biceps as she reached for something to steady herself.

It was over far too quickly. Lucien wanted to yank her against him. To haul her up on the table and declare she was the only meal he was interested in. Already, his body was far tighter than he would have liked—all the blood he needed to form sentences was currently rushing to his cock.

Elain smiled as she lowered herself back to the ground. “So uh…dinner?”

Lucien’s eyes nearly rolled back into his skull at the breathless way she said those words.

“I’m yours to command,” he said stupidly. “Tell me where you want me.”

He didn’t miss how her eyes darted toward the hall. He’d go, if she told him to. Lucien would lay flat on the bed and let her do every depraved thing she was thinking of—he’d thank her for it, even. Lucien didn’t care what it was, as long as they were both naked and— “Bread?” she was saying, though she, too, sounded far away.

“Yeah,” he replied, praying she didn’t look down at his shorts. “Whatever you want.”

ELAIN:

Whatever you want.

What she wanted was for Lucien Vanserra to take off his shirt and let her lick the line between his abs straight to his— “How is this?” he asked, pulling out a loaf pan of bread he’d been working on.

“It’s good,” she lied. It was sagging in the middle, but not a bad first try given they were both distracted. It had been one polite kiss. One kiss.

One kiss where he’d cupped her whole face in the palm of his hands. Now she knew he smelled like sunshine and woodsy smoke and how his arms felt beneath her fingers. It was too much knowledge for her small kitchen and her overactive imagination. Lucien was being perfectly polite, unaware that Elain was trying to figure out how to get him into her bedroom.

Did she just ask? Did she say, hey Lucien, do you want to have sex with me—

What happened if he said no? Elain didn’t think she could stand the rejection after that kiss. She wouldn't just have to move out of her building, but the whole state if she wanted to escape him. While she carved the chicken, Lucien refilled their wine glasses and set the table, glancing over at her surreptitiously. Likely wondering why she was acting so strange.

Lucien had a talent for keeping the conversation going which Elain immensely appreciated. She didn’t have to think about what to say—not when he so effortlessly had a comeback for everything she said. He maintained eye contact and somehow managed to be funny and laid back and charming.

She should have sent him home. He was dangerous. Elain had the distinct feeling that a man like Lucien Vanserra could very easily ruin her life. Which was why, when dinner was over and a third glass of wine seemed ruinous, Elain meant to say, You should probably go home.

But what she actually said was, “Do you want to stay and watch a movie?”

Lucien’s eyes gleamed. “Of course.”

God, he knew. He knew what she was trying to do when he slid off his tennis shoes and padded to the couch, one strong arm slung over the back of the white sofa. “Something scary,” he told her when she began scrolling, so close her arm was brushing his chest.

“Subtle,” she joked, daring to look up at him. That was a mistake. Lucien’s expression seemed to burn, lips parted as though that were the only way for him to get in enough oxygen. She felt the same—worse, maybe, when his fingers gripped her chin gently, tilting her face toward him.

“I wasn’t trying to be subtle,” he said, his mouth brushing hers. “In fact, I’d like to be a lot less subtle. Skip the movie and ask me to stay with you tonight.”

“What about the second date?” she asked, afraid if she slept with him, he’d go back to ignoring her.

“We’ll start when we wake up. I was thinking a picnic,” he panted, his thick, long hair forming a curtain around them.

“You’re just saying that so I’ll invite you into the bedroom.”

Lucien smiled, his eyes fluttering shut. “You have no idea, Elain. Absolutely no idea how long I’ve been trying to get your attention.”

“How long?” she challenged, wondering why she was still dragging this out. All she wanted was to kiss him again. Longer, this time. Long enough all her good sense evaporated beneath the heat of his body.

“When did I create that account, again?” he asked. She opened her mouth to call him a liar and Lucien pressed his advantage. This kiss was not like before. There was no hesitance, not tentative, polite pressing of the lips. Lucien knew he had her—or, perhaps he was afraid she’d come to her senses and he needed to take what he could before that happened.

All Elain knew was one moment she’d been about to speak and the next his mouth was slanted against her own. One of his arms wrapped around her, pulling her into his lap before Elain could protest.

As if she would have. Elain was too quick to straddle his waist, well aware she was in a dress and the only thing keeping her from being fully bare against him was a thin strip of cotton already wet from the kiss before. Not that Lucien seemed to be faring much better given the moment she was seated against him, she could feel his own erection poking up through his shorts.

Good, she thought with delight. Arms wrapped around his neck, Elain kissed him like she, too, was never going to get another shot at him. His tongue swept into her mouth, pulling the most embarrassing, unexpected moan from her throat.

Beneath her, Lucien seemed to buck unintentionally. He held her tighter, pushing her against him until his straining cock was lined up with her perfectly. It was experimental, to roll her hips against his shorts. Just to see what would happen if she did.

Lucien groaned. Loud and sweet, right into her mouth, fingers digging into the fabric of her dress in an attempt to get her to do it again. It had been so long since Elain had kissed anyone—even before quarantine and the pandemic, Elain hadn’t been with anyone since she’d broken up with her ex.

It was good, the taste of him in her mouth and his hands on her body. Knowing he wanted her, had wanted her maybe as long as she’d wanted him. That they were in this little hell together, desperate and needy. Elain arched again, rubbing herself against the hard slap of his body until Lucien pulled his mouth off her.

“Elain, Elain have mercy. Please,” he panted, sweeping his thumbs over her cheeks as he gulped down air. “You’re going to make me come if you keep that up.”

She didn’t believe him, rolling against his erection again. Lucien threw his head back, moaning while his back arched up off the couch. He was so absurdly hot, so ridiculously sexy. She yanked at his shirt, lifting it over his chest and throwing it to the floor.

“Maybe I want you to come,” she replied, hands gliding down the muscular planes of his body.

Lucien’s dark eyes fell on her and in one smooth, fluid motion, he had them both on their feet.

Well, he was on his feet. She was in his arms while he strode purposefully through her apartment to her bedroom.

“How do you know where I sleep?” she asked when he tossed her to the rosy duvet.

He angled his head toward the ceiling. “Same layout. How many nights have you laid just below me, touching that pretty pussy of yours, Elain?”

“Almost as many as I’ve touched myself thinking about you,” she dared to reply. Lucien doubled over, hands gripping the edge of the bed frame to steady himself. She gestured toward her nightstand, determined that her night with Lucien would live up to how she’d imagined it. “Would you like to see?”

He groaned again. “Yes. Show me.”

Elain sat up, eyes never leaving Lucien’s face as she reached behind her for the zipper. She had to stand to shimmy out of her dress, noting how white his knuckles were. He was clearly holding to the wood for dear life, which made stripping all the more fun. The wine helped with her nerves, leaving her own hands steady as she removed her bra and then so, so slowly, pulled her underwear to her ankles.

“Fucking christ,” he whispered, breathing through his nose like a wild, near feral animal.

“Don’t move,” she reminded him as she laid herself back out on the bed. She’d get herself mostly there, she told herself. Spreading apart her thighs, Elain let Lucien see her fully unclothed just like she’d imagined.

“What’s in the drawer?” he asked when she raked her nails lightly over her parted legs.

“Things that vibrate. Do I need one?” she asked him, thinking she likely did.

“Not tonight,” he whispered, his gaze fully on her pussy. “I have other ideas.”

Elain’s fingers slid through the wetness coating her skin and Lucien whimpered. “What ideas?” she asked, rubbing slow circles over her clit. In truth, she rarely touched herself like this, preferring the ease of vibrating toys. It was fun to tease him, though. To see his obvious want written all over his face. To see the straining bulge in his shorts.

Lucien, as if reading her mind, yanked them off over his hips, kicking them onto the floor without looking. It was Elain’s turn to whimper at the sight of his large, thick cock now held in his equally large hand.

He pumped himself once, unaware of the thrill of arousal that spiked through her. She understood how a little grinding could bring him so close to the edge. If he kept stroking himself, she was likely to come, too. The sight of his muscular body, how his cock seemed big despite his hands, how hungry his eyes were was all too much.

“What ideas, Lucien?” she asked again, still drawing lazy circles around that swollen nub of flesh. Lucien came closer and closer still, until he was at the side of the bed. Lifting his body onto the mattress with one powerful thigh, straddling her stomach so his cock nestled between her bare breasts.

“Fuck, Elain,” he whispered, thrusting up between the valley of skin. She pressed them together, using her fingers still sticky from her own arousal to tease the slick head of his erection.

Their eyes met. “Do you have a condom, Lucien?”

He groaned. That was a no.

“Upstairs,” he said, thrusting again and again, slowly, clearly doing so for the view. She could have scooted a few inches and found his cock in her mouth. It was so tempting, and yet the moment she began to readjust herself, Lucien was swinging his body off of hers and throwing his shorts back on.

“Don’t move,” he ordered, his voice ragged.

A second later, he was gone. No shirt, no shoes. Her door slammed shut as he raced back upstairs. Elain heard him thudding inelegantly overhead, heard his door slam, and then a second later he was back.

“Hard to fucking run like this,” he panted, ripping his shorts off again. Elain reached for him, wanting to kiss him as he tossed several foiled packets to the bed but Lucien fell to his knees loud enough the people below her likely heard, grabbed her by the knees, and dragged her right to the edge.

Without preamble, his mouth was on her and Elain understood why he’d said no to the vibrating toys. “Oh, god,” she moaned, the sound echoed by his own appreciative groan. Elain had to clap a hand over her mouth to keep herself silent even as she pressed her thighs around her face, ankles crossed behind his head.

Lucien’s tongue was far better than her fingers, than any toy she could possibly own. Lucien licked with expert, unyielding precision and when one of his fingers slid into her body, Elain was wrecked. Grinding into him with shameless abandon. She’d never been so easy like this, so unconcerned about being sexy versus just chasing pleasure.

Lucien pumped one, and then two, before finally working a third finger into her. Stretching her open to take him, she knew, though in truth Elain didn’t care so long as he kept rubbing that spot just inside her body and kept licking her clit.

Elain couldn’t remember the last time a man had gotten her off. Had one ever? Graysen hadn’t, which had necessitated the toys. She could use them while he fucked her, which Gray had preferred. And Elain didn’t mind that—really, she didn’t—but sometimes a little effort would have been nice.

Maybe it was unfair to compare her ex to Lucien, but Gray had never eaten her out like this. There was a desperation to Lucien, like he needed to do this perfectly—like he’d never see her again and this was his only chance.

If he always ate pussy like this, he could see her whenever he wanted.

There was nothing elegant about the way she came. Clamped tight around his fingers, riding his face as she split apart, her body arching so hard off the bed she heard her spine crack. Elain scrambled back, gulping down air while Lucien licked himself clean of her before chasing her up the bed.

Their mouths collided, messy and rough in a clash of teeth and tongues. She could feel him between her legs, torturing himself by rubbing the head of his cock through her slick arousal. All she had to do was spread herself a little wider and he’d be inside her. She wanted him in her, wanted to know what it was like to share a body, to have him.

Elain shoved him, ignoring that the taste of her pussy was now in her own mouth.

“My turn,” she whispered.

LUCIEN:

He was dreaming. That was the only thing that made sense to him because otherwise he was living in a reality in which Elain Archeron was naked. Naked and pushing him to the bed, where he was also naked and hanging on a razors edge. A condom was going to do absolutely nothing to save him. The second he was buried in her, he knew it was all over. Lucien had been too close on the couch just kissing her.

Usually, going down on his partner tempered some of his arousal. With Elain, it has only made things worse. Flat on his back while Elain and licked and sucked her way down his chest, Lucien knew he was ruined.

He felt her reach across the bed, searching for one of the condoms he’d hastily grabbed. It was optimistic to take a handful and yet he’d gotten this far, hadn’t he? Why not hope he’d get to fuck her the entirety of the night. That maybe he hadn’t brought enough, even, and would make another trip upstairs.

Maybe this time he’d bring her with him, just so he could go down on her in his own bed, too. Lucien was certain his sheets could be improved by her pussy smeared across the fabric. For now, Lucien was happy to watch Elain settle between his legs and rip the corner of the gold foil packet.

Lucien gathered up her hair. “You’re so fucking pretty, baby,” he whispered, thinking he ought to say something appreciative. Thank you for fucking me, I might be in love with you now didn’t seem like the right thing.

Elain looked up at him just as her fingers curled around the base of his cock. Did he think he was somehow owning this experience? That he was exuding confidence? Lucien practically whimpered at her touch, his hips arching off the bed.

She smiled. “Do you taste as good as you look?” she asked in that sweet voice of hers. God, she had been sent to kill him.

What a way to go.

“Find out,” he said in a voice that was decidedly not his. Whoever that man was, he sounded like he had a modicum of control, which Lucien absolutely no longer possessed. Maybe it would be smart to come, he rationalized. Maybe he should have taken a minute upstairs and finished himself and come back with the kind of stamina women boasted about.

Maybe— “Holy shit,” he choked, gripping her hair tight without meaning to. Elain sucked him into her mouth, unnoticed as he agonized over what to do next. The sight was obscene, her pink lips wrapped around the skin of his throbbing erection. She slid nearly half way before she gagged, widening her jaw to take in a breath of air. Lucien nearly came from the sight of her tongue peeking from her lips, of her hand gripping him so tight she must have felt his erratic, pounding heart.

“Baby,” he tried, unsure what he was even trying to accomplish. Lucien could die happy at the sight of Elain’s bobbing head, of her soft, wet mouth working over him with the kind of enthusiasm he had only once dreamed of. “It’s too much.”

That was true, at least. His whole body was so tight, was buzzing with anticipation. He was buzzing, practically electric.

“You’re going to make me come,” he whispered, trying one last time to get her off him. It hadn’t been a minute and she was going to laugh and call all her friends and tell them how quickly he’d come in her mouth.

Elain hummed, pulling him back to the present. “Come,” she said. A trail of her own saliva connected those swollen lips to his cock and fuck he almost did. He quite liked her telling him what to do, now that he thought about it. Elain took him back in her mouth, squeezed her fingers tight. One, two—

Lucien came with a rough gasp of air. She’d ripped that orgasm out of him and when he jerked his ups upward, unable to avoid the instinctual desperation to bury himself deeper, Elain let him pour himself into her throat.

Lucien groaned again when Elain wiped her chin with the back of her hand.

“I think that makes us even,” she said primly, sitting up on her heels.

He gaped for a second, still leaking come onto his stomach. Was she serious?

“Get on your hands and knees,” he growled. It was the only thing he could think to say that wasn’t thank you, I love you— which, again, seemed like the wrong thing to tell her.

“Are you going to spank me?” she teased, though Elain did exactly as he asked. Lucien’s eyes rolled upward at the sight of her heart shaped ass wiggling right in front of him.

He ignored the condom she’d begun to open, unsure if it was safe to use it. It took three seconds to roll it over his erection and another to bring his palm stinging against her ass cheek.

Elain gasped. She hadn’t expected him to do that. Lucien hadn’t either, but she’d put the idea in his head and Lucien couldn’t resist.

“Are you going to be my good girl?” he asked her. Say yes, say yes, say yes—

“What if I’m not?” she replied. Lucien didn’t know, though he lined himself him up that pretty, wet pussy of hers and pushed himself in an inch. The soft, warm heat of her body nearly made him come again.

He was so fucked. “My good girl gets to come on my cock. And my bad girl gets her ass spanked until she’s raw.”

Elain didn’t hesitate. “I’m your good girl.”

Fuck fuck fuck fuck— Lucien buried himself inside her with a mighty stroke, using her hip to pull her back roughly. Elain moaned, squeezed so tight around him she might have been his own skin. For the first time in his life, Lucien thanked God for the condom. It was the only thing that kept him from becoming a mindless, rutting animal behind her.

“Are you going to come for me?” he asked, slowly pulling himself out. Lucien would remember this moment until he died. On his death bed, thinking not of a life well lived, but his hands on Elain Archeron’s ass, spreading her apart while his cock vanished into her perfect pussy.

“Make me,” she replied, half challenge, half plea. Maybe he should have asked for one of the toys in her bedside table, just to ensure his success. This was fine, he told himself. He’d put her on his back if he had to, and if that failed, he’d just go back down on her.

Actually, that seemed like an incredible idea. He nearly proposed it when Elain moaned, shifting to her forearms and changing the angle. Lucien gasped, suddenly deeper than he’d been before. Fuuuuuuuuuuck.

“Do you like that?” he asked. It was a genuine question. He thrust again, the head of his cock brushing against something distinctly soft. He knew that spot—he’d had his fingers on it not five minutes before.

“Yes,” she panted. Perfect, he told himself. Keep his strokes steady and deep and he’d have her shaking around him in no time.

Though, just to be sure, Lucien snaked a hand around them for her clit. That made her moan, made her pulse around him which Lucien liked more than he’d ever admit.

“You’re so fucking hot,” he said, unsure what he was even saying. His mind was repeating out a rhythm—stroke, rub, stroke, rub, stroke, rub—

“My good girl takes my cock so well,” he continued, babbling out words as he tried to hold back his own desperate need to come. Again. It seemed important to call her his good girl, to plant that seed in her head so when they woke in the morning and he bypassed all the social niceties to ask her to be his girlfriend, it seemed normal.

Natural, even.

Elain had her face buried in her pillows, her hands pulling at her sheets until she’d pulled the corners off.

“Come for me, baby,” Lucien ordered, praying she would. He wasn’t above begging if he had to. “Come on my cock, let me see—”

She was loud enough to disturb the neighbors, not that Lucien cared. The sound speared straight into his balls, breathless and high pitched and needy.

His name, he realized. She’d screamed his name like that.

“Fuck, Elain—”

He couldn’t get another word out, not when his own orgasm ripped through him. Lucien couldn’t think, his eyes blurred black at the edges. When he did manage to look around, his eyes landed on the clock.

He felt like he’d been fucking her for hours. He’d managed twenty solid minutes. She’d come both times, though, which felt like a win all the same.

Lucien discarded the condom gingerly in the bathroom trash, giving her a moment to process what had happened alone. If she wanted him to leave, he’d go though he might also get on his knees and beg. That was a very real possibility, too.

When he padded back into the dark room, Elain was under the blankets. The corner was flopped to the side in what he hoped was invitation. She smiled when she saw him, pulling him toward her without a word. Lucien tumbled into the bed, gathering her into his arms. Her hair smelled like honey, her body like sweat and to his relief, Elain was naked beneath the covers.

“Let's make lemon bars in the morning,” he whispered. Elain twisted to look at him. It was clear she expected him to take off.

“Okay,” she agreed, her brown eyes wide and shining. “And then what?”

“We have our picnic, don’t we?” Lucien didn’t mention he fully intended to fuck her in the grass. That could be a fun little surprise for later, after he’d convinced her to put on another one of those strappy little sundresses.

Elain burrowed her head in the crook of his arm. “Good.”

“I’m not done with you, you know,” he said, though in truth he could use some water and a thirty minute nap.

“I know you’re not, Lucien,” she said, trailing her finger over his stomach. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Neither was he.

#elucien #elain x lucien #elain archeron #lucien vanserra #no pretty graphic/moodboard you ask?#look- you get what you get

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go-to-two · 1 month

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First of all: Hi!! I hope your weekend is going well.

Second: WTF?!?!? 5 years!!!

I'm not kidding, I screamed so loud that my doggie ran out of the bed.

I love your fic so much, that it's my top 3 of Upstead fics.

And taking this opportunity to ask you about the fic. You wrote in the notes before the end that you felt that the things were a little rushed...so, what were those things? What are the topics that you would like to get deeper or write differently?

And, if you allow me a last question: have you planned to post another fic?... because I'm always ready to read more about your art and Upstead.

Thank you for your time.

Hi!

Yeah, five years. It's always interesting to look back at the end of a story and see where it began. It was originally a lot angrier too. Then I realized that if Jay and Hailey were reunited after a long time apart, anger wouldn't be what they led with. Things kind of fell into place from there.

I know the chapter I felt was rushed was number 13. I always wanted to format a story like that episode of The Office where Jim and Pam go back and forth with voicemails, so that's the direction I took it. The chapter covers several weeks while Jay is traveling back and forth, and it takes them from getting back together to him moving in. It had a lot of ground to cover. That was also at the time I felt I had to get a chapter out on a certain day, so I sacrificed effort to make it "on time". If I were to do it again, I might separate it into two chapters and tackle the traveling before the moving in. The amount of time covered paired with the format just made it feel clunky to me. Oh well. Live, write, and learn.

I'm working on something right now! I had been itching to do something light and fluffy again, but I couldn't figure out what to write. The idea I'm running with right now isn't all light, but I think parts could be fun when it's all done. We'll see. In the meantime if anyone has a quick, fluffy prompt, I'm all ears.

#asks #all of my what ifs fic

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barkspawn · 1 year

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Are you still doing requests? Would you be up for Shane SDV with #16 of the random prompts you recently reblogged? I love your writing and thank you whether you take the request or not!

Bruh I love doing these, and no one's ever loved my writing before. 🥺 send as many as you want. I appreciate your patience. :)

Shane had finally stopped glaring at Amelia every time she said hello or gave him a small wave across the plaza. For some reason, this made her feel extra happy today; because this morning he gave the faintest wave back. Granted, he sneered a little while doing it, but progress is progress.

She celebrated by planning to get dinner at the saloon. She had a great harvest and genuinely wanted to let herself splurge on that, but she couldn't deny that she wanted to see Shane again. She just knew he was a sweet guy under all of that shell. She knew that a little kindness makes a huge difference.

Emily grinned as she brought the plate of spaghetti to the table and touched Amelia's shoulder, "Let me know if you need anything else! I'm trying out some cool cocktails," she started back toward the counter as Pam made her way into her spot far to the side of the counter.

Amelia sat herself at a small table by the back wall, wanting to have a quiet moment. She liked the people in town, but she also liked the solace every once in a while. Thankfully it was Tuesday and there are only a few people who come out during the week.

Scrolling through social media absent-mindedly, she made it halfway through her food before his voice startled her.

"I gotta ask you a question," Shane started, his voice only mildly slurred, "gonna step outside. Come out when you finish."

She blinked up at him, her eyes wide and mouth full of half-chewed noodles. She gave a small nod and he turned, walking to and out of the front door.

Hurriedly, she finished the last few bites and dropped her plate off at the counter for Emily to bus who gave her a confused wave. She took a breath and pushed the door open. No sooner than the door closed did she hear him start.

"Why the hell are you so nice to me?" He asked, his tone almost angry, but there was something else there.

"Well.. I-"

"I've been a dick to you since you moved here. Yet you buy me beers and bring me fresh peppers. Or your homemade food? What's the deal, kid?"

She stood there for a moment, grimacing at the name, "Shane, you're like 3 years older than I am," she started as he looked surprised for a millisecond, "and because everyone deserves to be cared about," her voice softened, a little embarrassed by the confession. But why stop? Despite his sneer, she continued, "look, you're a dick sometimes, sure. But it's just you pushing people away. I'm not asking you to spill your guts to me, I'm just trying to show you that you can let people in. At least I know I'm not out to get you."

He stood there for a long moment, leaning against the wall. His brows were knit together as he stared down at the ground. After a minute. He finally spoke, his voice much softer, "and if I don't want anyone close to me?"

Something about the way he said it made her stomach sink. She kept her tone soft as she hesitantly touched his shoulder, which looked like it confused him more than anything, "well, if you don't want anyone to be your friend, I'll just be that cool, friendly neighbor who brings you shit because she can."

She grinned as he chuckled, pleased that she could earn such a reaction. Though he looked uncomfortable, like he felt vulnerable and hated it. With a deep sigh, he exhaled, "uh, thanks. I guess," he pushed forward off the wall glancing her for a second. Amelia couldn't tell, but she thought for a second he might be blushing.

She gave him a warm smile, stepping back toward the door, half in effort to give him space, "hey, I was going to get a plate of pepper poppers. I'm not quite full yet. Why don't you join me? My treat," as she asked, she panicked a bit, wondering if it was too much.

To her surprise, he smiled. It was small, but it was there. He shook his head a little, a slightly sarcastic tone taking over, "it's like you know they're my favorite," he stepped forward and opened the door, letting her go inside.

Yoba damn. Maybe a friend won't be so bad. Can't complain about free food… or that smile.

#shut up tori #barkspawn #sdv #stardew valley #fanfic #shane stardew valley #sdv shane #shane sdv #stardew shane #stardew valley shane #from a prompt #oh look a one-shot #barkspawn oneshot

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riddlethat · 1 year

Text

@ecopoison asked: [ help ] for your muse to lean on mine for support word prompt compilation (accepting)

Edward gnashes his teeth. His voice grates. "Oh. You're not getting away so easily."

Pam will be fine. Pam is Pam. She can raze all of Gotham down with a leaf and hijack a man. She could bleed all over then come back again, vindictive and unforgiving, killing with a kiss. Pam can take over Superman. Pam is Pam.

She'd just crushed everything. The tiles are cracked and strewn all over, the roof half-caved and lights blown. Men ooze tacky red over the floor, their limbs bent and twisted, her roots spilling through walls and coiling over and wringing. They tried to shoot at them, Pam and Edward.

They're gone and seeping now, and Pam leans against him, hurt.

"You still haven't apologized for breaking in," he nags, because of course he's bringing it up now. Edward fixes his arm and holds her up. She's light. "And I didn't forget how you never paid back."

He still isn't over it. The thought barges and leaks into his brain: the day she and Harley knocked on his door and took him over by pheromones, living in his home for however long without ever paying a cent. How they left it in shambles and scuttled away with a thank you, Harley beaming with a wave. As if he ever let them in.

How she took over his mind. How he hates to admit it.

He steps over jutting rebar and shoves a door open with his shoulder. Fresh air smacks him, freezing, and he coughs through the debris.

"I should have let them take you." He smiles, disingenuous. He turns to look at her. "But you know what they say about weeds."

Pam, so cold and dismissive. Pam, Harley and Selina's best friend, his feelings for them never simple. Without Pamela, he might have died.

Sirens wail in the distance. His breath fogs the air. He holds her tighter against him. Warms her.

"Ha." Petulant, he fixes his mouth. "This is the last time I'm ever helping you."

#ecopoison #( riddlethat: v: p.i. )#( riddlethat: asks. )#since we're talking about gotham city sirens #eddies annoying but helping 💚#and i think the thing is ''weeds always come back''

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redheadgleek · 3 years

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It’s the holiday season, so flight attendant Blaine returns a package that a little girl accidentally left on a flight. Naturally, this leads to her spending Christmas at the girl’s house and falling in love with her dad Kurt.

“Happy Holidays!” Blaine says, smiling at the passengers, filing out of the plane. “Bye now. Thank you for flying with us! Happy holidays!”

He always enjoys flying on Christmas Eve, when everybody is so excited to be going on vacation or going home for the holidays and are usually in a good mood. The flights are filled with kids and they always ask him the most amazing questions about his job. “Do you get to go out on the wing?” One child asked him tonight and was very disappointed when he told him no. The kids had all been especially adorable and well behaved on the flight tonight. One girl, not older than five, had told him all about her first trip flying and how she wasn’t scared because her friend Drizzle the giraffe was with her. When he went through the demonstration about plane safety, he stopped to confirm that her father knew to get his own oxygen first and she made Blaine help her buckle up the giraffe in the middle seat. Her father, a stunning man near his age, wearing an artistic scarf that brought out the blue in his eyes even in the dim overhead lights, looked on with an amused smile and winked broadly at Blaine, causing him to blush madly. When he paused with the drink service at their aisle, Blaine handed him a whole can of coke, just to see that smile again. Flirting with handsome men is definitely a perk of the job.

It’s the last flight for the night and his passengers are starting to look more weary as they wrangle packages and suitcases and children out of the narrow aisles. “Whoa! Let me help you out there!” He says to the handsome man, carrying the now sleeping little girl in one arm while trying to retrieve a suitcase from the overhead compartment. He reaches up and pulls down the stuffed suitcase and a smaller monkey-shaped backpack and carries them to the front of the plane. “You think you can get it from here?”

“Thanks!” The man smiles with gratitude as he shifts his child around to grasp the suitcase more securely. “Happy Holidays.”

“You too!” He watches them make their way down the plank and then grabs the wheelchair waiting outside of the plane. “Ms. Eliza? Your carriage is here! Let’s get you tucked in.”

He waves the last of the passengers off the plane and then securely locks the bathroom door and tidies the service area.

“I am looking forward to a long bath, a massage, and a haircut.” Sugar announces as she straightens the magazines in the seat back pocket, blatantly avoiding the left behind trash. “Daddy tried to get a masseuse to come to my apartment tonight, but service in this city is just not what it used to be. So I have one booked for first thing in the morning, after my private yoga session with Cassandra.”

“You booked a yoga session and a massage on Christmas?” Blaine questions from across the aisle.

“Of course. Everything is closed that day, so they have nothing else to do.”

Blaine exchanges rolled eyes with the other flight attendant, Marley, as she follows behind Sugar and gathers the trash. No one has been able to figure out why the young socialite took a job as an attendant, as she subjects the rest of the crew to stories of her father’s wealth. But, she’ll loudly defend her coworkers where they’re subjected to any sexist behavior, reaming the men out until they meekly find their seat and add a “please” and “thank you” to any requests for the rest of the flight and Blaine knows that she gets great glee out of making them behave. Except for her tendency to avoid getting her hands dirty, she is a funny and reliable crewmate and Blaine always enjoys their cross country trips together.

“Jake is coming to my mom’s home tomorrow for breakfast.” Marley confesses.

“You’re at the ‘meet the parents’ stage already?” Sugar whistles. “Do you think he’ll propose?”

“No! That is, I don’t think so. It’s only been four months, isn’t that too soon?” Marley eyes widen.

“Much too soon,” Blaine reassures Marley. Marley has always been more reserved with her feelings and hesitant to trust in relationships and so far, Jake has been willing to take things at Marley’s pace. The two of them often shared the same flights and Blaine had shared many a midnight layover hotel room with Marley, spilling their feelings into the late night.

“What about you, Blaine? How are you spending your Christmas?” Sugar asks.

“It’s a quiet one this year, just me at home.” He answers, picking up a discarded blanket.

“You’re not seeing your family?” Marley asks.

“No. My parents are on a two week cruise to Greece and I couldn’t get that much time off. And Cooper is on one of those “spiritual” rejuvenation retreats in Palm Springs.”

“You could come with me and Jake. My mom always makes plenty.” Marley volunteers, worry in her eyes.

“Nah, really, I’m good. I ordered food from the little Italian restaurant down the block and I’m going to watch all of the Christmas movies and drink hot chocolate. It’s going to be a lovely day.”

“If you’re sure.” Marley acquiesces hesitantly.

“I’m sure.” Blaine smiles. Sugar moves on to other topics and Marley drops the subject. As the much younger child of very busy parents, he was used to spending the holidays alone and while he was grateful for Marley’s offer, the awkwardness of sharing Christmas with strangers isn’t appealing either.

They’re nearing the tail of the plane, scooping up the last of the cans and cups from the drink service, along with two cell phones and one credit card that had been left in the seat pocket. “Oh no!” Blaine says, spotting the large stuffed giraffe lovingly buckled and forgotten in one of the middle seats. “One of the kids left one of their toys.”

“Aww, that’s so cute. Somebody is going to be missing their friend tonight.”

“Want me to run it up to the service department?” Sugar says. “I’m all done here.”

“Nah,” Blaine says, thinking about the little girl and her excitement about the giraffe. “I’ve got to submit the safety check report. I can turn in the stuffed animal and the phones with it.”

“Suit yourself. Laters, hoes!” Sugar calls as she departs the plane.

Blaine waits while Marley latches the last of the cabinets and follows her up to the front, where they retrieve their coats and scarves from the small closet in first class, listening while she talks about trying to do a non Christian focused celebration on Christmas. “He’s Jewish and while he says he doesn’t mind celebrating Christmas, I want him to feel part of the celebration, you know? It’s okay to serve latkes if it’s not Hanukkah, right? My mom is making homemade applesauce tonight. She’s as nervous as I am, I think.”

“It’s going to be fine. He’s going to love that you’re making the gesture to make him comfortable with your family.”

“I hope so. I think… I think I might tell him that I love him.” She confesses as she pushes through the security gates.

“That’s great! Marley, I’m so happy for you.”

“I’m happy for me too.” She blushes. “I wish, that is, are you happy, Blaine?”

“Me?” He blinks, “what? I’m fine.”

“Are you though? It’s not just Christmas, Blaine. It’s been a long time since you’ve even mentioned dating or anything.”

“I’ve been busy.” He brushes off her concerns with a reassuring smile.

“You’ve been volunteering for extra shifts! I had to convince you not to take the Christmas shifts because you’ve worked the last 3 Christmases.”

“I… other people need that time off more.”

“It’s okay to take time for you too.” She squeezes his arm. “Come home with me tomorrow. I’d love for you to meet Jake.”

He stops them in front of the terminal doors, clutching the giraffe closer. “That’s kind of you, Mar, but-”

“Just think about it, okay? I’ll call you tomorrow.” She hugs him tightly and kisses his cheek, waving as she heads off to the parking garage.

Blaine winds his way upstairs to the Alaska airline offices, where he munches on some Christmas cookies, before making his way to Sue’s office to drop off the paperwork. She’s harassing one of the desk agents and it looks like it’ll take away, so he loses himself in his thoughts, thinking about what Marley had said. Yes, he’s been working more recently, but he wouldn’t call himself lonely. He’s good friends with many of the pilots and flight attendants and will usually get a drink with the group on their layover nights. And while he’ll admit a little envy of those happily partnered, he’s also become quite comfortable and accepting of his single life. His relationship with his college boyfriend had fizzled into nothing and he was more lonely then those first few months after graduation when he realized that they had nothing in common than he is now surrounded by his chosen family. He’s gotten good at suppressing his fantasies of love at first sight, where you just know in an instant that you’re going to be together with that special person forever. That hasn’t happened yet and likely won’t ever happen, the realist in him acknowledges.

“Did the amount of gel you use leech into your skull and eat your brain? Or do you just waste my time for fun?” Sue Sylvester, the intimidating desk agent barks and Blaine snaps back to attention.

“Sorry, Sue. Here’s the flight status report.” Blaine hurries over to her desk.

“You sure you filled this out correctly? I will relish calling you back at 3 this morning to fix it if it isn’t. I don’t care that it is Christmas.” She sneers, as she pulls the papers over to her.

“Doubled checked, like always,” Blaine assures her with a charming smile. He’s determined to win her over and he swears he sees a small smile before she grimaces again.

“Hrrphm.” She tosses the papers on a pile.

“There were a couple of phones left on the flight as well. Oh and one of the kids left this little guy behind.” He waves the giraffe’s leg at her.

“That would explain the panicked phone calls and the hysterical crying. Well throw it on the pile there. That gross … thing ... will need to be incinerated.”

He stares at her. “We aren’t going to try to return it?”

“Do I look like a delivery boy to you?”

“No, but-”

“No buts, shaven, gay, Tom Selleck. I don’t have time nor interest to find somebody to return items to dumb children who leave their precious germ-ridden slobbery death traps on planes.”

“I can take it to them.” Blaine offers.

“Now why would you want to do that?” She stares at him.

“It’s Christmas.” He shrugs. “I bet they’re missing it, if they called about it. Did you get an address?”

“Becky may have written something down. I’m not paying you extra.”

“I wouldn’t expect you to. Thanks, Sue.”

***

The address Becky had provided was on the opposite side of the city from where he lived and it had started to snow, making him question his generosity. He carefully maneuvered his little car over the slickened roads as the snow blustered across the and down a long, dark driveway before pulling up in front of a cozy white house, lined with blue and white Christmas lights. He double checks the address before buttoning his coat and tucking the little giraffe under his arm to protect it from the flurrying snow.

Lights are glowing from the front window, but nobody responds at first to his knock. He knocks again and is about to leave, contemplating leaving the stuffed animal on the porch, when the door flies open, the light silhouetting a tall man. Kurt was his name, Becky had told him.

“Hello?”

“Hi, I’m Blaine from Alaska Airlines.” He starts.

“Oh my god, did you find Drizzle? The woman on the phone made it sound like it was a lost cause.”

“This is Drizzle, yes?” He holds out the giraffe.

“Yes! Oh, gosh, thank you so much. Audrey was so heartbroken. I don’t think she would have slept tonight without him.”

Blaine smiles widely. “It’s my pleasure.” The porch light more fully illuminates the man’s attractive features and confirms that the man indeed was the handsome man he had flirted with briefly. Working with a constant stream of passengers that he greets daily means that he’s always has a sense of déjà vu when passing people in public, but this man is .... memorable and familiar and comfortable - Blaine has a deep sense that this is not their first meeting, even though that’s impossible.

Kurt straightens, his face haloed by the porch lights. “Wait, weren’t you our flight attendant? You were, right? You helped me with our luggage.”

“Yeah, that was me. I found Drizzle when I was cleaning up the plane.”

“And you brought him all the way out here? In this blizzard?”

Blane rubs his neck and blushes. “Yeah.”

“Well, thank you again. Audrey! Audrey!” He calls through the open door. “Come see what Mr -” He pauses, looking at Blaine expectedly.

“Blaine.”

“-Mr. Blaine has brought.”

He hears the clattering of feet. “What, Unca Kurt, what, is it Santa?”

Uncle. Interesting, Blaine thought. “No, not Santa. But remember that nice attendant? He found you something.”

She claps her hands and reaches out for the toy. “Drizzle! You found him!”

“You gotta be careful with your toys, honey.” The man ruffles her hair fondly. “What do you say to the nice man?”

“Thanks, Mr. Blaine.” She hugs Blaine quickly, surprising him, and runs off clutching the giraffe tightly.

“Really, thank you.” The man says again. “I can’t tell you how much this means to me and to Audrey. It was already going to be a hard Christmas. Her mom is in the hospital because of a high risk pregnancy and I promised I’d care for her for a couple of weeks, but you know how it is when you’re young. It doesn’t matter the reasons why; she just thinks her mom is abandoning her. So losing the toy was just the cap to a really trying day.”

“It’s not a problem.” Blaine reassures him, yearning to reach out a hand in comfort.

“Kurt, I mean, my name is Kurt. Would you come in and I could get you a drink?” The man asks him, gesturing to the open door.

Blaine shakes his head a little ruefully, not really wanting to leave. “No, I, I gotta go, the snow and all. But, uh, Merry Christmas, and … yeah.”

Blaine doesn’t think he’s imagining the slight forlorn frown that crosses Kurt’s face. “Oh. Yeah, you’re probably right.” He bites his lip. “Merry Christmas to you too, Blaine.”

The snow is coming down hard now, thick flakes sticking to his hair and eyelashes, and already there’s a couple of inches accumulated on the street. He opens the door, turns on his car, and his wheels spin and squeal in the snow.

He tries again, pushing firmer on the gas pedal. The car rocks forward a couple of inches and slides promptly into the ditch.

He’s stuck.

Blaine knocks meekly on the door again and this time it’s only a few seconds before the door opens. “I. My car is stuck, I think.”

Kurt’s smile is breathtaking. “That’s a pity. Would you like to come in and wait out the storm?”

Something inside of Blaine feels like he’s come home. “I’d like that.” He answers and steps through the door.

(Click for part 2)

#klaine advent 2020 #klaine advent: meet #i have been trying to write this story for AGES #and kept getting stuck #merry christmas eve everybody #thanks again for the prompts Pam!#this is barely edited because i wanted to post while it's still christmas eve #spaceorphan18 #fic series: eyes meeting over the noise #redheadgleek writes

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cas-kingdom · 2 years

Note

Hey, for your prompts would you do, You know you're grounded right, with Eric x Reader please 🙂

You know you’re grounded, right?

“You know you’re grounded, right?”

Pam tapped the toe of her hot pink stiletto against the empty bar floor, perfectly manicured nails resting on opposite crossed arms. She was glaring at you, who was scrubbing at your bloody knuckles with a clenched jaw and some biting words on the tip of your tongue. Fortunately, the vampire spoke up again before you could let them loose.

“You can’t go around beating humans up, no matter how fucking vile they are.” She scowled. “Bad business.”

You rolled your eyes and turned off the tap, turning to lean against the sink. “Seriously? That’s the only problem here? Not the fact some dickhead called me a whore just for spilling a drink on him?”

Pam scoffed, uncrossing her arms to curl her hands into fists. “You’re really that sensitive, girl? You should’ve told me and I would’ve tossed him out, sucked him dry somewhere else! We don’t need people associating Fangtasia with this kinda crap. That’s what gets us closed the fuck down.”

“You’re really that sensitive?” You repeated Pam’s words with a mocking tone, pushing yourself away from the sink. “Give me a break, Pam. I beat him up. Big deal. Nothing’ll come of it.”

Pam had been seconds away from blowing, you could tell. You never spoke to either of your vampires like that - they wouldn’t stand for it, though God knew there were many times when you said something that with any other supernatural being would have you killed - but this time was different. This time, adrenaline was pumping through your body, bringing a newfound energy to you. Especially your fists. Those still throbbed. But the excitement easily squashed it down.

As did Eric when you almost walked into him.

“Did I just hear you call Pam sensitive?” he asked. He was standing straight and still, unmoving even as you came moments away from crashing into his chest. You glanced up at him, your adrenaline vanishing. He was wearing a look that was difficult to decipher. You despised those looks. It was easier when he was clearly fuming, or clearly happy - which was rare. But tonight he was unreadable. Perfect.

You took a step backwards and bit your bottom lip. “She called me sensitive first,” you offered with a shrug.

“She beat up a human,” Pam broke into the conversation - or lack thereof - as she strode forward, pushing her way in front of you. Her heel narrowly missed the toe of your slipper. You grimaced at that. Had you really beaten a guy in your slippers?

On second thought: awesome.

On third thought, coupled with Eric’s mere presence: not so awesome.

“Did she?” Eric eloquently rose his brows, a flicker of something flashing in the blues of his eyes, before he turned to walk past you and to the bar. “How many bones broken?”

“I don’t know,” you said with a cautious smile, “but I heard something snap.”

Eric openly grinned at that, and Pam shot him a look, tossing her arms up in an “are you kidding me?” gesture. “Are you fucking with me, Eric?” she asked. “Your precious girl bruised and bloodied a human in the middle of the bar, with the entirety of Fangtasia as her audience! And you’re worried about broken bones?”

It was at this that Eric’s mood changed. Not drastically, but enough to make you grow a little stuff under the stare he sent you as he looked over his shoulder. “It wasn’t after closing time?” His question signified he’d thought it was.

Pam crossed her arms again, a finally victorious look overcoming her painted face. “No.”

Eric turned fully now. “Why?” he asked you. You were beginning to gain the ability to read his face. It was on the verge of dangerous.

“He called me a whore,” you told him, pleading with your voice not to show how nervous you were. “I didn’t like it.”

He glanced at Pam, who looked absurdly thrilled with her attempt at parenting, then back to you. “You say you heard something snap?”

Oh, thank God. “Probably his nose.”

“Probably. Much blood?”

You shrugged. “Not enough for a meal. Maybe a snack.”

Pam threw her hands up. “I can’t fucking believe this!”

“Lugna ner dig, Pam.” Eric’s words were sharp, but Pam listened to them. She settled, swirling her tongue inside her mouth, clearly desperate to give her maker a piece of her mind.

Eric looked at you. “I am proud of her,” he spoke assertively. His eyes were on you but his words were directed at Pam. “The minute anyone speaks less of her she should make them less than her.” He crossed his arms over his chest then, lifting his chin a little. “But Pam is right,” he said, and your slowly climbing spirits plummeted. “Not in front of people, Y/N.”

“Just what I said,” Pam huffed. “Business is–”

“Business has nothing to do with it.” His head snapped to stare straight at her, and your eyes widened sympathetically. “If someone calls her a whore, she has my permission to spill blood.” Here, he turned back to you. “But I do not want it to become habit. And I do not want you to have an audience. Not because of Fangtasia, which quite frankly has nothing to do with this, but because I don’t want anyone who comes here, human or vampire, to get ideas. You are a young girl. You have never raised your fists to anyone before, unless we are counting the punch you aimed at me just last month–” You grimaced, the memories resurfacing not exactly good ones– “and I would rather speculations about my human charge remain that way.” He took a few steps closer to you and gently grasped the sides of your face, cold hands a comfort to your warm skin. “I know a vampire whose human began to show more… let’s say aggressive tendencies. Another vampire noticed and took the human for himself as a tool. A weapon. You are neither. You are mine. And I want you to remain as you are for as long as humanely possible.”

His words continually had you fixated on him, your eyes wide as you stared at him, mind processing each letter. You always had been enthralled by the smallest things Eric did, especially as a baby, but when he was directing all his attention to you, even when it wasn’t very positive, you listened, and you learned.

So, you nodded against his hands. “Okay, Eric,” you said, and Eric dipped his head once. He brushed a finger along the tip of your nose, as though savouring this moment of innocence, before letting you go.

“Go to bed now.”

Pam rolled her eyes. “I’m good for nothing, aren’t I?” she muttered, sauntering past you.

Eric’s eyebrows rose. “Not entirely,” he said, walking backwards towards the ‘Employers Only’ door. “You are grounded.”

You spluttered. “Y-you said you were proud of me!”

“I am. Still-” He pushed the door open, a smirk lifting the corners of his lips- “You beat up your first human without me.”

And he was gone, leaving a bewildered looking human and an even more bewildered looking vampire standing in the middle of Fangtasia.

True Blood Masterpost

#true blood #eric northman #pamela swynford de beaufort #eric x reader #eric northman x reader #eric x pam #pam x eric #pam x reader #pamela swynford de beaufort x reader #reader #teen reader #daughter reader #daughter!reader #vampire #mine #true blood fanfic #true blood fic #reader fic #drabble

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soulmate-game · 4 years

Note

Can you do a prompt of Marinette being the daughter of the Joker and Harley but Harley left him before Marinette was born and when Joker found out about his daughter He decided to kidnap Marinette so she can become like him (Ace chemicals) (Daminette)

Woot, my first ask in a while! Let’s see how I can do this oddly specific ask that reminds me of a fic that might actually exist but tbh I’ve read so many fanfics idk if my brain is remembering right

—*—*—*—*—*

Marinette knew Sabine and Tom weren’t her biological parents. She had known ever since she was eight, when her mother by blood visited her for the first time, sat her down, and explained everything. Including, but not limited to, her disastrously toxic past relationship, her new girlfriend, and her recent success with long term rehab (unofficial rehab that mostly consisted of illegal anti-hero actions, but hey if it worked it worked).

Marinette understood. Well no, she really didn’t since she was only eight, but she understood that her mom— that Harley— was genuine. She had always had a knack for emotions and telling when people were sincere or not. And Harley really was regretful about not being in her life beforehand, and was serious about wanting to be part of her life now that her own was mostly sorted out.

So Marinette was not surprised when Harley really did stick it out. When Harley cooed over Marinette copying her hairstyle to show her support of her biological mom, when Harley never failed to call at least once a week even if she was in jail for punching some asshole or another. Harley never stayed arrested long anymore, she was usually found to be on the right side of the moral scale more and more often so the police didn’t bother keeping her locked up anymore. Through the years, Marinette always looked forward to her mom’s calls. Looked forward to being lulled to sleep by one crazy story or another from her mother’s past. Everything was nice. Perfect, even, for a while.

A thump sounded from her balcony, one late night when Marinette was thirteen. Blinking, the dark haired girl furrowed her brows. Who would be on her balcony? Cautiously walking towards the trap door leading to it, grasping her metal pencil holder as a weapon (she remembered all of her Mom’s stories about break-ins and random attacks back in Gotham), the teen strained her ears. Akuma attacks were only a few months old now, but she had already become in high alert for any sign of Hawkmoth or his victims. As per usual, Marinette’s paranoia began to kick in. Did Hawkmoth already figure her out? Was he here for her earrings? Would she be able to fight him?

She gently pushed up the trap door, catching a glimpse of black leather. Huh? Marinette narrowed her eyes, confused. Was it Chat? He should have been on patrol, on the other side of the city. What was he doing visiting her?

Suddenly the trap door yanked the rest of the way open, making Marinette yelp as the handle for it rugged away from her fingers. And there, backlit by the pure blue-white moonlight, was Not Chat Noir. It was Catwoman, in all her skintight black leather glory, grinning at her before pushing her cat-eye goggles up to the top of her head and crouching down by the trap door’s entrance, balancing only on the pads of her feet.

“Well hello there~” the woman purred. “So you’re the cute little kitten Harley is so secretive about. Nice to finally meet you,” the woman held out a hand, sending Marinette a sweet, if mysterious, smile. For a while, the pigtailed girl only stared before a squeal of excitement left her throat, leaving very little room for any doubt as to her bloodline. A large smile curled over Marinette’s lips, leaving her beaming widely at the catlike woman on her balcony.

“Auntie Selina! Mom’s told me so much about you! Come in, come in, come in! I’ll sneak some macaroons up for you. Or do you prefer croissants? What’s your favorite flavor? Are you really dating Batman? Oh my goodness, that necklace is so lovely! Did you steal it?”

Selina could only chuckle fondly at the word vomit, letting the smaller girl drag her down the trap door and into her very… pink room. Looking around, Selina was once again slapped with just how similar this kid was to her outgoing friend. Marinette clearly had no shame in indulging in the things she liked, such as the color pink and anything regarding fashion. But there were other things amongst the girliness of the room, like the posters of Jagged Stone and the training dummy half-sticking out of her closet door. There were a few ornamental knives hung up behind her computer, seemingly just for decoration although Selina could see that they were definitely battle ready and sharpened. A small mallet, clearly a miniature replica of her mother’s own signature weapon, leaned up against the side of the girl’s laundry basket. But then there was Marinette’s mannequin, which was surrounded by meticulously cut pieces of cloth and had other pieces pinned to it strategically. Marinette clearly had the same professionalism and love for her chosen career that had so completely defined Harley in the Time Before Joker. The same genius intellect hiding in those deceptively cheerful bluebell eyes. And for the first time, though not for the last to be sure, Selina found herself thoroughly relieved that it seemed Marinette had inherited very little from her father.

Except, as she would learn from stories Harley told her later, an apparent affinity for chaos.

“I’m not that picky, kitten. But I’m not that hungry, so don’t go too out of your way,” Selina decided to just react the same way she did with Harley’s rambles, and answer one question at a time. “Also, I am actually dating Bruce Wayne. But, if you promise not to tell anyone—“ she waited for Marinette’s eager nod before continuing casually, “— the two are maybe not as mutually exclusive as many think,” Selina finished with a conspiratorial wink. “No, I actually did not steal this necklace. Bruce has been adamant in trying to curb me of my thieving habit by buying me almost everything I so much as glance at sideways. It’s sweet. Naive, because I like stealing for the fun of it, but sweet.”

Marinette giggled, bouncing in place happily. She loved a bit of innocent gossip like this. “Is Momma Ivy ever gonna visit? I don’t think Mom told her much about me yet, and I still gotta give her the shovel talk!” the fierce look that overcame Marinette’s face made Selina laugh again. Oh yes, definitely her mother’s daughter.

“Pam has been trying to sneak over, but the laws regarding Metahumans in Paris suddenly got much stricter a few months back and have caused some problems. You wouldn’t happen to know what happened, would you?” Selina did not miss when her seemingly innocent question caused her niece to close off almost instantly. Bluebell eyes took on a familiar guardedness, and scanned her with the same soul-searching intensity that Harley had when she was channeling her Psychiatrist side. Selina found herself in a slightly concerning spot though—

Because she couldn’t predict Marinette at all. She was left to simply stand there as Marinette searched for some unidentifiable thing in her eyes, completely unable to read the younger girl’s face and with no idea of what to expect. The side effect of having chaos so thoroughly entwined in both of her biological parents, she supposed.

“Nope, no idea.”

Selina knew that was a lie, but knew equally as well that she would not be getting a better answer anytime soon. So, she let it go and the two of them once again dipped into innocent chatter.

Later that night, when Selina left and the sun threatened to rise at any minute, Tikki flew up from her hiding spot under Marinette’s pillow to land on her holder’s shoulder. Marinette giggled and looked over at her little friend.

“Tikki?”

“Yes, Mari?”

“Why was I chosen to be your holder?” She asked suddenly, flopping back into her bed and staring at her ceiling. The little goddess hummed, smiling knowingly before flying down to cuddle in the crook of Marinette’s neck.

“Because you are born from luck itself. Even when bad things happen, you have the luck and determination to get out just fine, and stronger than before. And despite the destruction and anarchy in your blood, you have the willpower to reign it in and keep control of yourself. That’s all order really is, Marinette. The decision to take all the chaos and madness around us, and make it make sense. Make it do something good. And that’s a large part of who you are, I could feel it in your soul the moment we first met.”

Marinette closed her eyes, biting the inside of her cheek. “What if I lose control?”

“... You’ll just have to get it back. It’ll be hard, but as long as you have people to support you, you will be able to do it. You aren’t evil, Marinette,” the small God seemed to sense the true question her holder was asking, and did her best to soothe the doubt the girl felt. “Just remember the reasons you fight against chaos. Remember everyone you love, and you’ll be okay. And you have me, I’ll always help you.”

“... thank you, Tikki.”

—*—*—*—*—*

“He’s going to find out, Mom.”

“No he won’t, don’t be silly! I’ve been very careful about hiding you from him, Nettie-pie.”

“Mom… I just have a bad feeling. I don’t think we can hide who I am from him. If he sees me, I think he’ll know.”

The phone went silent.

“If he hurts you, I’ll kill him. If I was crazy about him, Sugar, then I’m head over heels for you. Not even he can stop me from caving his skull in if he tries his usual tricks with you.”

“... My plane leaves soon, I’ll talk to you when I land. And mom?”

“Yeah, honeycake?”

“I love you.”

—*—*—*—*—*

It was uncanny just how often Marinette’s hunches were right. Her intuition was something to behold, truly, because it only took three days in Gotham before Joker snatched her right out of her room at Harley and Ivy’s apartment. At least Marinette had sixteen by then, so she had had enough experience as a hero in Paris and with generally unpredictable situations and people who were absolutely nuts for her to not immediately panic. Too much, anyway.

Because there was definitely a little panic there.

See, Marinette knew herself inside out by then. After her own battle with her toxic feelings towards Adrien and doing her best to heal from those before she turned out like her mom, she knew she was by no means mentally indestructible. Mental illness ran the high risk of being inherited, and Marinette was well aware that her own personality was scarily similar to her mother’s at times. She got attached quickly, felt affection and love for others very strongly and, as she found with Adrien, could easily become obsessive if she didn’t watch herself. At least Harley was the perfect person to help with that, and Marinette was serious about helping herself too. She did everything she could to keep an eye on her mental health and keep her behavior in check so she didn’t do anything too unhealthy with her relationships again.

But she knew, she knew she had a soft spot for family. She got attached too easily. And being in the same room as her biological father, despite being tied up by her hands and feet and knowing just how many unforgivable things he had done in his life, Marinette felt vulnerable. She didn’t want to hurt him, despite everything. She still loved him, despite every reason not to, despite her first meeting with him being with him shoving chloroform over her face and hogtying her to a metal chain dangling over a vat of acid.

Geez, she’d need more than just her mom as a therapist after this for sure. Even if her mom had a PH.D, Marinette felt like she’d need several psychiatrists to sort through her emotional turmoil right then and make sense of any of it.

Marinette licked her lips, aware that the only kindness that Joker gave his daughter was sparing her from the discomfort of being gagged.

“Don’t,” Marinette said, surprising herself with the amount of steel she was able to put into her voice. Somehow, she managed to make the single word sound more like an order than a plead. “Joker, put me—“

“Ah-Ah-Ah!” The clown walked over, tutting and waving his finger in the air in almost playful admonishment. He gave her a dramatically fake pout. “Don’t you know it’s disrespectful to refer to your father by his first name?” Neither of them mentioned that Joker was definitely not his real name. They both knew the point was moot. “Say it with me now— ‘Daddy dearest, I am more than willing to be dunked in acid for you,’ go ahead, say it.”

Marinette’s jaw clenched. Familial love or not, she would not tolerate being ridiculed like that. She dealt with enough ridicule when she was fourteen and fifteen during school, before she put Liar Rossi in her place. She had spent the past three years as a hero in charge of the war against Hawkmoth, in charge of protecting all of Paris from an emotional terrorist.

And gee, wasn’t that what Joker was, too? Sure, he was a terrorist in the classic meaning of the word as well, but he was nothing if not a skilled manipulator. He knew the human mind just as well as Harley or any other psychiatrist did, he just used his knowledge for different means. He had emotionally abused Harley for years, he emotionally abused and manipulated people all across gotham on a daily basis. He was just another Hawkmoth, but with more physical violence in place of magic.

With these thoughts strengthening her resolve, Marinette narrowed her eyes at the man who donated half of her DNA. She let her anger boil into her irises, hitting him with one of the few traits she knew she inherited from him.

Her ability to intimidate others on the tip of a hat.

“No,” she growled back at him. She took a deep breath. It had taken her a while, but she refused to be ashamed of who she was regardless of her blood relation. She would have no problem using the very things she inherited from Joker against him. She might have gotten most of Harley’s personality, she might have inherited her mother’s habit of falling in love hard, fast, and obsessively, but she also had Joker’s defiance. His bone-deep inability to be stopped from doing exactly whatever the fuck he wanted.

And then, there were Marinette’s own traits. The ones that were completely her own, developed over her life organically. Like her refusal to bow down to bullies, her creativity, her ability to take even the most chaotic situation and see some sort of balance and sanity in it that she could use to her advantage.

That she WOULD use to her advantage. The shadows she saw move out of the corner of her eye gave her the chance to do exactly that, she just needed to buy a few more seconds. Just a few more seconds.

“Excuse me?” Joker growled right back, his own intimidation, honed over more years than Marinette had been alive and thus much more potent than her own, reading its ugly head as he stalked towards her. His face was pulled down into an ugly snarl, his shoulders tensed and back straight as he glared right at her. From his spot on the metal walkway, he was easily able to reach over the railing and grab her chin in one pale, viciously strong hand. “I think you’re misunderstanding something here, little Marionette. I’m your father. Half of your life came directly from ME. That makes you my puppet. You exist to follow my orders,” his right grip suddenly let go, leaving behind the beginnings of a bruise as his entire demeanor changed from angry to cheerful. He spread his arms as if gesturing to the whole chemical plant victoriously, and an unnaturally large smile curved over his lips and bared yellowing teeth at her. “But that’s okay. I’ll forgive you this time, you haven’t learned any better yet. That’s why we’re here. We need to cleanse you of all those icky bad habits you’ve learned up until now, all you need is a little,” he bounced in place with a wicked smirk to illustrate his next words— “jumpstart. A little acid goes a long way to enlightenment you know, you’ll see my side of things in no time. And with my blood in you, you’ll make a better sidekick than that idiot Harley ever did. I can sense it, you’ve got a real talent for Chaos in you, it’s exciting, Heheeeheheee! Now then, we should probably speed things along before our family reunion is cut short. Hang in there, my little Marionette,” the man actually had the gall to spin in place while humming a tune cheerfully before all but dancing over to the lever that held Marinette’s length of chain in the air over the vat of chemicals below her. “Everything will clear up in that little head of yours in just a second!”

There! Right as Joker pulled the switch to lower her into the bubbling vat underneath her, Marinette was able to finish untying her hands. She couldn’t contain a small yelp as gravity flung her body forward, leaving her upside down on the chain for a brief moment. That was when the chain started lowering rapidly, and Marinette was barely able to rip the rope off of her ankles in time to swing off of it and onto the metal walkway that came up right next to the giant metal container of liquid death and insanity. Joker had barely enough time to shout in rage before the windows near the ceiling shattered, admitting the city’s vigilantes themselves. Batman, Nightwing, Red Robin, Red Hood, Robin, and evening Black Bat all landed on the same metal platform above Marinette’s head that Joker was still on, buying the teen time to start running. But she didn’t go towards the exit right away, instead heading right up the stairs into the thick of the fight. Robin briefly separated from where Joker was managing to hold his own, goons flooding from side doors to inhibit the heroes in their attempt to bring their boss down.

The katana-using vigilante kept one eye on Marinette the whole time, suspicious of why the girl would come back up if not to help her father. But that wasn’t what she did, instead she flipped and kicked and punched her way through the quickly growing sea of Joker thugs until she reached a small pink purse that had been abandoned near the lever that had nearly sent her into liquid insanity. Three thugs surrounded her right as she snatched the purse up and slung it over her shoulder, but Robin barely had the chance to head over before she was heaving the men, who were all easily three times her size, over her shoulder and was slamming elbows into soft spots and the side of her hand into pressure points. By the time Robin got to her side, all three men were unconscious and bound to wake up in utter agony.

Marinette glanced up, getting ready to haul Robin over her shoulder as well before she realized who he was. She let her shoulders relax just a tick, sighing in relief before returning her eyes to scanning their surroundings. She shot him a brief grin.

“Good thing my adoptive mother, Mom, Momma Ivy, and Auntie Selina all made sure I knew how to take down a small army on my own, huh?” She asked rhetorically before they were both unceremoniously dragged back into the giant brawl.

—*—*—*—*—*

“Nettie-pie!”

“Marigold!”

Harley and Pamela Quinzel-Isley shoved down anyone and everyone who dared block their direct path to their daughter. The girl of the hour stood next to the bat clan, a shock blanket held tightly around her shoulders as she did her best to finish her statement to both the vigilantes and Commissioner Gordon.

“You untied yourself… from a ship-grade knot in high quality rope… with a phone charm?” They heard Gordon ask incredulously, to which Marinette could only give a lopsided smile. That was when her mom and stepmom crashed into her, enveloping her in a nearly suffocating hug.

“Gah— mom— momma Ivy—“ Marinette flailed in their arms for a bit before finally getting her head free and continuing her statement as if she didn’t have two of the most dangerous women in the city still giving her a bone crushing hug. “That’s better. Yes, Commissioner. You see, I realized when I was in the car with Joker, while I was pretending to still be unconscious, that one of the charms on my phone had pretty sharp corners that I could use like a serrated edge if I had enough time. So I carefully detached it from my phone, and held it in my palm. It took almost an hour, but once Joker noticed I was awake I kept him talking so that he didn’t notice what I was doing even as he tied me up to that chain. Really, it’s just lucky that I was able to get it worn down in time,” Marinette rubbed the back of her neck with a nervous chuckle. “But regardless, I think Batman and his partners,” she nodded to the listening vigilantes just to the side of her. “Were close enough that I would have been caught anyway, I just wanted to make sure they had less work to do. The sooner I freed myself, the sooner ‘Daddy Dearest,’” she grimaced as she mockingly used the same term Joker had tried to get her to say earlier that night. “Could go back behind bars where he belongs.”

“Oh my little Nettie-cake,” Harley cried, finally pulling back from the hug long enough to wipe her cheeks. It was clear that she had been crying for a while, and her colorful pigtails were mussed and tangled from where she must have been tugging on them in worry. “You were right. I’m so sorry, I never should have let you come to Gotham when I knew he was out of Arkham.”

Marinette was quick to shake her head frantically, pulling her arms out of Ivy’s hold so she could grasp Harley’s shoulders firmly. “No. No, Mom, I’m fine! And besides, we knew I couldn’t stay secret forever. I really like staying with you and Momma Ivy! Everything turned out fine though, and he’s headed back to Arkham. It’s okay.”

“It’s not okay, Nettle,” Pam argued, distracting herself by running her hands through Marinette’s bangs. She had only known the girl for two years, but that was more than long enough for her to consider the teenager as her own. “He took you right out from under our noses. You were supposed to be safe in our home, and he still got to you. That’s not okay. We weren’t able to protect you like we should have been. Maybe you should go back to Paris early.”

“What?! No way!” Marinette argued, eyes wide. “This is the first time I’ve been able to ever visit you guys in Gotham, I’m not letting some psycho sperm donor keep me from enjoying time with my family! I came here knowing full well that it was dangerous. I’m not gonna just run away after one bad experience.”

Harley snorted, and then devolved into uncontrollable giggles. “Heh— psycho sperm donor. Good one, sugar!”

Marinette smiled and rolled her eyes good naturedly at her mom’s usual immature antics. Seeing as Gordon had walked away muttering to himself a short while ago, Marinette pulled herself the rest of the way away from her moms and turned to the vigilantes. Without a second’s pause, she bowed to them just like her Maman Sabine taught her.

“Thank you for helping save me. I know it’s probably a shock that I’ve been kept secret from you guys all this time, but I hope you don’t lump me in with the likes of the green-haired half of my DNA. I’m staying with my Moms in their apartment, if you guys decide to patrol by our place like I suspect, I’ll leave some baked goods and coffee out for you on our patio. It’s the least I can do for you all after tonight. And don’t be too hard on Auntie Selina. Me and Mom swore her to secrecy, even from you guys.”

Batman jerked a little at the mention of Catwoman’s real name, jaw twitching for a second. Behind his cowl, his eyes narrowed. Marinette laughed, easily reading his body language and expression.

“She never told me who you are, but she didn’t exactly hide it either. It was easy to put the last pieces together on my own. But don’t worry, SHE swore me to secrecy too. I won’t tell anyone.

“How the hell are you related to the Laughing Asswipe from Hell?” Red Hood blurted out, his confusion clear even from behind his hideous helmet. Marinette burst into giggles, and both Pamela and Harley smiled knowingly.

“Mom gave me up for adoption when I was born, so I spent my whole life in Paris up until now,” she admitted. “Mom didn’t visit me for the first time until I was eight, and she and my adoptive parents are so awesome that it must’ve suffocated the worst traits from his DNA before they had a chance to develop,” she guessed out loud with a good natured smile.

Batman grunted. Marinette knew that one run-in wasn’t enough for them to trust her. After all, she was still the biological daughter of their arch enemy. But she didn’t mind, she understood the caution even if she didn’t fully agree with it. They weren’t outright hostile, despite the fact that Robin had never stopped glaring at her since they fought back-to-back against the mob of thugs earlier. She could live with their suspicion, as long as they continued to not be outright rude or mean to her.

At least she could empathize with Adrien now, whenever she figured out how to break it to him that Hawkmoth was definitely Gabriel and couldn’t be anyone else. Hopefully she could help soften the blow for him a little.

Harley and Ivy were starting to herd Marinette towards their car and take her back home, where they could continue to smother her in care and make sure she didn’t have even a scratch on her, when Robin’s voice stopped them all in their tracks.

“You are a surprisingly capable combatant.”

Marinette froze, blinking in surprise for a second before turning to stare at Robin in shock. The rest of the Bat Clam was doing the same, nobody expecting Robin of all people to be the first to directly complement Marinette. He tutted, crossing his arms, but never moved his gaze away from Marinette’s eyes.

“But your form could use some work. Most of your style is incredibly improvised, which I can appreciate since you do it well, but you would benefit from more structure in your fighting. I will set up a time and place for us to spar. We start in two days, if you think you can handle it.”

It took a while for what Robin said to sink in, and another few seconds for Marinette to decipher what his semi-aggressive, order-phrased proposal really meant. And she smiled.

“It’s a date.”

—*—*—*—*—*

Woo! This started off a little rough, but I really like how it ended up! Thank you, Anon!

#ml x dc #maribat #mlb x dc #eventual daminette #pre daminette #daminette #Bio!dad joker #bio!mom Harley Quinn #Joker Sucks #Request #Oneshot #Fanfiction #crossover

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ecto-american · 3 years

Text

Liar Liar

Phic Phight Oneshot for Ectopal: After an argument with her now grounded son, Maddie wishes that Danny wouldn't lie to her-and Desiree overhears. [TransDanny]

The OG prompt: After an argument with her now grounded son, Maddie wishes that Danny wouldn't lie to her-and Desiree overhears.

Potential TW for trans-related venting and implied violence, but there’s nothing graphic

on FFN and AO3

The front door opened, and Maddie frowned as she glanced at the clock that informed her that yes. It was definitely hours past his curfew.

No lights turned on, but she still could tell from the faint light of the one kitchen light, the light that the family just never turned off so that they could see at night, that it was definitely her son doing his best to remain quiet. And now that she knew he was safe, all of her fears about if he was okay and his safety melted away and allowed for anger to start boiling.

"Daniel James Fenton," she finally called out. The figure froze, and she flipped the light switch on. Before her was her son, looking as guilty as ever. One hand was on the wall, guiding him as he approached the stairs, the other holding onto his binder and shoes. "Do you have any idea what time it is?"

"...Um...Can I plead the fifth?" he asked weakly. Her frown deepened.

"It's nearly two in the morning, and on a school night!" she scolded. "Let's not even talk about how you snuck out right now." His shoulders slumped. "You could have been dead for all I know!"

"I'm sorry," he replied quietly.

"Where were you?" Maddie asked.

"I was at Tucker's, we got caught up playing video games," he said. Maddie scowled.

"Tell me the truth," she said. Danny scowled back.

"I am!" he insisted.

"Then how come Pamela called me?" Maddie asked. At the name of Mrs. Manson, Danny paled.

"...She called you?" his voice croaked out.

"You bet she called me," Maddie snapped. "What were you thinking?"

"I wi-I just!" Danny cut himself off as he seemed to struggle to find his words. "I'm just wanting more freedom! I'm an adult now! I can legally buy cigarettes!" Maddie couldn't help but roll her eyes.

"Well I wish you wouldn't lie to me!" Maddie argued back. Danny flinched at her words. "And maybe if you didn't, I'd let you have more freedom! But you lied about going to your room, you lied to me just now about where you were, and I already know that you're going to lie to me when I ask you what you and Sam have been doing!"

"We weren't doing anything!" Danny half-yelled back. "We fell asleep binge watching one of her true crime shows!"

"Don't lie to me!" Maddie told him.

"I'm not!"

Maddie made an angry grumbling noise, crossing her arms.

"You're ground, all weekend," she informed him. Danny didn't respond; he simply made a face at her. He brushed past her to angrily stomp up the stairs. She didn't bother snapping at him over that too.

"So you have wished it, so shall it be."

Maddie turned around rapidly at the voice. It wasn't Danny's...and Jazz was miles away at college…But what she did hear was Danny slamming his bedroom door shut. She'd get onto him about that in the morning.

A quick inspection, and she found nothing, and she decided to just call it a night. She went upstairs herself, pausing at Danny's door to listen. She could hear Danny shuffle around for a moment, though after a moment, she saw his light go out and heard his bed creak as he rested on it. She just knew he was going to fall asleep in class tomorrow. Maddie sighed, and she went into her room.

Jack was just coming from the bathroom with a light yawn, and she felt guilty.

"Did we wake you up?" she wondered. Jack gave her a small smile and shrugged.

"It's okay," he assured her. Maddie huffed.

"No, it's not," she insisted. "He should have been home. He was over at Sam's house until about ten minutes ago. Pam called to complain about it."

"Ah, he's just doing what teenagers do," Jack replied. Maddie frowned as she got into bed.

"Well that mentality is how we end up grandparents way too early," she reminded him. Jack gave a light sigh as he also slipped back into bed.

"Yeah, you're right," he agreed. "I'll talk to him about it soon."

"Thank you. He's pretty mad at me right now," Maddie turned her bedside lamp off. Jack chuckled.

"He'll probably be mad for a bit, but he'll get over it," he reassured her. He switched his own bedside lamp off as he got settled back in. "Night, love you."

"Love you too."

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

Despite the late night, Maddie was up early. She could hear that Danny was already up and getting ready in the bathroom, so she didn't feel the need to say anything to him just yet. They could reserve any conversation for after school.

By the time she came downstairs, Danny was in the kitchen staring at the toaster, backpack on the kitchen table.

"Morning, sweetie," she greeted him warmly.

He gave her a somewhat dirty look, and he mumbled a cranky and short "morning" in response. She opted to ignore his attitude for now, and she went over to the coffee maker. While she was waiting for Danny, she had gone ahead and scheduled the coffee maker to start making coffee, and man was she glad. It was already pouring, and it smelled great.

"Danny, do you want a cup of coffee?" she asked him. He glanced over, and he shook his head no.

"Mm no thanks," he replied.

"Did you sleep okay?"

"I slept like shit."

Maddie glanced at Danny in surprise, and he stared back at her, equally as confused. Danny never cussed at her.

"Cause you stayed out all night, huh?" Maddie lightly accused, leaning her hand on the counter.

"No, cause I slept with my binder on and now my chest hurts," he snapped back. Maddie frowned.

"You're not supposed to do that," she told him.

"Well maybe if I wasn't fucking born like this-," he began but cut himself off. He looked so confused, and Maddie was too. Not at the statement. She had no doubt that it was true, but where did all this cussing come from? He knew better than to talk to her like that, and it was so...weird. Danny glanced back to the toaster, clearing his throat. "Sorry, I...I uh…" Two pop tarts popped out of the toaster, and he quickly snatched them up. "I gotta go. Bye."

"...Have a good day," Maddie called after him, staring as he quickly walked out, and she heard the front door close. She made her cup of coffee, and she got to work.

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

She jumped as their ghost alarm went off, but Jack and Maddie wasted no time quickly collecting their things and rushing out the door and into the RV. It led them right to the scene. A fight against Amity Park's most popular ghost and another fairly familiar ghost, a green skinned woman with flowing black hair dressed exclusively in blue.

Maddie messily pulled into a parking spot off the side of the road, and Jack immediately hopped out. Maddie followed suit, and she hurried towards the action.

"Stop granting every damn wish you hear! I swear, it's ridiculous!" she could hear Phantom yell.

"I'm merely giving people what they ask for," the woman, Desiree Maddie believed she was called, replied smugly.

Phantom looked like he was gonna say something more, but stopped when he seemed to glance over and notice their arrival.

"Let's just finish this," he said instead, and he blasted her, only to miss. The woman smirked, but it was quickly cut off by a secondary blast from Jack.

"Jack!" Maddie gasped in excitement. "Excellent shot!" Jack grinned proudly, firing another. Only to miss, as sorta expected.

"I do not have time for this!" Phantom scowled. Maddie rolled her eyes. What the hell does a ghost have going on? He pulled out the Fenton Thermos and sucked the other ghost in.

"You ever going to return that?" Maddie called out sarcastically.

"It's my thermos! You gave it to me!" Phantom called back, immediately giving her a weird blank look. Maddie narrowed her eyes.

"We didn't give you anything," she replied. She held her hand out expectantly. "Give it back."

Phantom opened his mouth to rebuttal, only to get blasted. It knocked him back and made him drop the thermos. Maddie dove for it as Jack fired more shots, and she was thankfully able to grab it before it hit the ground. However when she looked up, Phantom was gone.

"Mads! Did you see that!?" Jack asked. She looked up at him with a proud smile as he jogged over to her.

"I did!" she replied cheerfully. "You've gotten a lot better!" Jack puffed up proudly. "Where did Phantom go?"

"Dunno," he admitted, and his shoulders immediately fell a bit. "After I got him, he flew off. Musta been scared." He offered his hand out to her, and she accepted it.

"Probably," she agreed. She held the thermos up. "Least we got this back though." Jack nodded. "We'll put her back in the Zone later. Let's get some lunch."

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

Maddie made a point to make sure she was upstairs so that she could make sure Danny came home on time, given his grounding situation. While she waited, she began to make some cupcakes. As she was mixing batter, she heard the front door open and close.

"Hey Danny," she greeted from the kitchen. She glanced at the clock. He was ten minutes later than he normally would have come home, but it wasn't enough for her to say anything.

"...Hey mom," came the reply. He stepped into the kitchen, and Maddie glanced at him, only to do a double take. His right cheek was badly swollen from a bad bruise. Maddie immediately wiped her hands on a dish towel, staring at him.

"What happened?" she asked, stepping towards him. He stared at her in confusion before putting his hand to his face. He pressed his lips tightly together and didn't answer. She asked once more, more firmly. "Danny, what happened?"

He opened his mouth to say something, only to choke on nothing and close his mouth again. Maddie went to the freezer to get an ice pack. She motioned for him to sit down. He sat at the kitchen table, and she pulled a chair up to him. She pressed the ice pack to his face, and he took it from her, leaning his elbow on the table.

"I'll only ask you one more time," she began, only for Danny to angrily cut her off.

"I got beat up today, okay?" he replied, sounding exasperated. Maddie blinked.

"By who?" she asked. Danny gave her a sour look, and he refused to speak. "Danny…"

"I don't wanna talk about it," he finally spoke. He began to stand up. "Look, I'm fine. It's not a big deal."

"It's a huge deal!" Maddie argued. She grabbed his shoulder, forcing him to sit back down. "You're going to tell me what's going on right now. Who hurt you?"

"Just some dudes at school," he tried to keep his answers short. But Maddie was having none of that.

"But why?" she pressed. Danny stayed quiet. "Daniel James-"

"What do you want me to say, Mom?" he snapped. "That I constantly get my ass kicked for being queer? That every day I get reminded that they think I'm some freak that shouldn't be allowed to exist? Let alone in any kind of relative peace? People don't like me. Why do you think I want to get my name changed as soon as possible? Why I've been begging for surgery as a birthday gift? It's so that when I go to college, nobody will know."

"...I had no idea," she said slowly.

"Yeah, I know," he said shortly. He got up, managing to evade her touch again to go for the stairs. Before she could say anything else, he was upstairs, and she could hear his door closing.

What had gotten into him? Maddie had never heard Danny talk about any of those things to her before. How long had these feelings been going on? Why had he never talked to her before about this?

She forced herself to stand and return to her baking. Mindlessly, she began to fill her cupcake tray up with batter, slipping them into the oven when she heard noise in the basement. She frowned, quickly setting her timer before going down.

Phantom was there, looking through her stuff. Snooping around. He was carefully looking around, muttering to himself as he hunted for...something.

"Can I help you, Phantom?"

The ghost jumped, turning on his heel.

"I'm looking for the wishing ghost so I can undo a wish," he replied. She raised an eyebrow at his blunt honesty.

"What wish?" She asked. Phantom scowled, narrowing his eyes as he seemed to think hard.

"That's private," he replied. She glared back at him, but then it hit her.

"Well I wish you wouldn't lie to me!"

Her son couldn't lie to her. Because of the wishing ghost still trapped in the thermos. She hadn't had a chance to empty the thermoses of ghosts she had Jack had caught over the past two weeks.

"I suggest you leave through that portal then before I blast you through it," she said. "The wishing ghost is staying here with me." Phantom narrowed his eyes suspiciously at her.

"Not without that wishing ghost," he replied. Maddie picked a blaster off the table near her, pointing it at him. He held his hands up defensively. "Whoa, take it easy. Why do you want Desiree so bad? Don't you normally throw the ghosts back into the Ghost Zone anyway?"

"I do, and let's start with you," she replied. She pulled the trigger. It hit Phantom square in the chest, pushing him into the open portal. She quickly stormed up, slamming the closed button.

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

It was hours before Danny finally came down from upstairs. She knew that he had stayed upstairs, for once, instead of sneaking out again, from occasional footsteps and the sound of him talking on the phone. Maddie had actually just gotten off the phone with him, having called him to ask what he wanted from their favorite Chinese restaurant before she sent Jack out to pick it up. Soon as Jack was out the door, Danny came out of his room and downstairs. She gave him smile as he came into the living room.

"Hey sweetie, dad will b-"

"I know about the wish."

Maddie instantly felt guilt wash over her as Danny stared at her with a frown, arms crossed. She stayed where she sat on the couch.

"What makes you say that?" she questioned. Danny's lips tightened, and she knew that he wasn't going to answer her. "Danny-"

"And I know that you know about it!" he accused. "I've been through this kind of thing before! Why haven't you undone the wish yet?"

"Because you don't need to be lying to me!" Maddie finally snapped back as she got to her feet. "For once, I'm getting honest answers from you after almost three years of constant lie after lie!"

"And you're okay with this being how you get those answers?" Danny talked back. His fists balled up, though they stayed by his sides. "Instead of making me feel okay and comfortable telling you these things? Or wait for me to be ready to say something?"

Ouch. Maddie flinched, and she just knew that had Jazz been here...she'd be absolutely agreeing with Danny. And she knew in her gut that Danny was right. Maddie's shoulder slumped.

"I know," she said quietly. Danny looked completely taken aback. "...But why haven't you said anything? You know your dad and I love you so much. I had no idea you've been in this much pain."

Danny stared at the ground, shifting to lean against the doorway.

"...I didn't want you guys to feel like you were bad parents," he replied. "Because you're not. It's not your fault everybody else sucks, or that I have to wait for surgery or to get my name changed and everything. And you can't fix it. It's just how it is."

"Dad and I would have started fighting harder for you had we known," Maddie said softly. "All we ever want is for you and Jazz to be happy and healthy."

"Yeah, I know," Danny half-grumbled. "It's just...It's just how it is. And I can't even tell the therapist that, cause she keeps pushing back everything if I hint at being depressed about it."

"If that's the case, we can find a new therapist," Maddie replied. "One that'll take you more seriously." Danny shook his head.

"No, it's okay. I'll be done with school this year, and I'll be seeing a new one anyway when I go to college," he said. Maddie frowned.

"But still-"

"Mom, it's fine," he interrupted. He smiled. "Seriously." She sighed. "Please, just. Undo the wish."

"...Okay," she finally agreed. She began to walk towards the basement, only to pause, turning to him. "But first." Danny raised an eyebrow at her. "What were you and Sam doing up so late?" Danny gave her a sour look, rolling his eyes.

"...Sam's been having a hard time lately. Lots of girls at school bully her for the same reason as me, and it's just been hitting her super hard lately," he explained. "I was up late with her cause she was crying so much, and we fell asleep while I was holding her to make her feel better."

Maddie's heart twisted a bit. She truly wish she had known. And she already made a mental note to march into Casper High first thing Monday morning after having a long phone call with Pam that night. A call to Vlad too, to get in touch to see if he'd help hire a lawyer. She had absolute hell to raise, and a school she was ready to sue.

"But seriously," Danny's voice snapped her out of her thoughts. "I'll eventually come and tell you these things when I'm ready. Don't rely on dumb ghost wishes."

"Yeah, I know," Maddie replied somberly. "I'm sorry, Danny." She took a few steps towards him, wrapping her arms around him tightly. After a moment, she felt him return the hug. She let go, cupping his cheeks and making him lean down a bit so she could kiss his forehead. "I just worry about you. I want you to feel like you can always come to me. You're my baby boy."

"I know, Mom," he smiled. "And I will when I need you, but I'm not a little kid. I can handle a lot of things on my own."

"Yeah, but you're still my baby," Maddie sighed. Hell, he and Jazz were both taller than her by now. They definitely got that from Jack. Or in Danny's case, he got nearly everything from him. Almost a mirror image the older he got. Danny's cheeks flushed a bit.

"Mo-om."

Maddie chuckled.

"Come on, let's go undo the wish. I have the wishing ghost still in the basement," she said. She paused. "But once we undo the wish, will you honestly tell me how you knew?"

Danny stared at her for a moment, seemingly thinking. And he nodded.

"Yeah. After dinner, just you and me," he promised. "I'll tell you the whole story. Start to finish."

#phics #my phics #danny phantom #maddie fenton #phic phight 2021

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writingquestionsanswered · 2 years

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Hi! i write a story which the girl's character is bold. I was planning to make this story become an angst, and i do want to put a lot of romance moment but i have no idea about it. would you like to help me making prompts about having a romantic moments with a bold character?? Thanks in advance, have a great day ahead!

Anyways, english ain't my mother tongue so yeah pls be bear with the grammatical errors:)

Romantic Moments for Bold Character

No worries! Your English is fine! :)

I don't give out prompts, mostly because I'm not really good at thinking of them, but I can try to point you in some different directions that might help?

Every romance needs a conflict, or lots of conflict, to make it more interesting. When you want to add angst, especially, you're looking at creating a dance between together (or almost together) and apart, they hang out and have a great time, but the night ends on an awkward note due to a misunderstanding. They bump into each other at a coffee shop and things are going well, but one chickens out and bails. They meet again at a party after weeks apart and have a tender moment in conversation, then the other one's date shows up and they part awkwardly and in anger.

If you can find it and watch it, Rose Matafeo's show, Starstruck, is a really great example of what I'm talking about...

youtube

Another example that works, I think (although a really slow-burn example) would be Tim & Dawn/Jim & Pam from The Office (UK & US.)

I hope that helps! ♥

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finniestoncrane · 1 year

Note

Hi! Absolutely love your writing and I basically rebinge all your riddler content every now and then.

You've made me fall in love with all of them especially Young Justice! Riddler.

And I was wondering how would the riddlers react to meeting a villain reader during a dangerous situation.

You're like "Oh hey, you're cute." Adding in a compliment, before dashing away and leaving him in the dust without letting him get a word in.

I thought I'd be funny.

If you can't do them all, maybe young justice, dano, and/or Gotham?

Villain!Reader w/Crush

Riddler Headcanons eeeef this is cute!! and thank you so much! yj!eddie has become my babygirl and this prompt suits him so well 💚 request info • prompt list • send me a request • kofi • masterlist minors DNI!! 🔞 cw: flirting/suggestive things

zero year

as much as he pretends he's 'all that'

he actually never gets complimented

because he's a pain in the ass monster of a boy

but maybe someone just as villainous as him

someone who is also a pain in the ass

could see the perfect potential within him

enough to develop maybe a little crush on him?

and now he's forgotten what he was even doing out here

maybe that was the plan all along, damn

gotham

he's no stranger to love in the field

this idiot falls in love quick and fast and with anyone

especially if they're also a bit mischievous (or criminal)

so another villain declaring their love... well...

he's kinda 'been there, done that' so to speak

but it wouldn't put him off!

it's just going to take a little bit more than rushed flirting

if you really want him to be knocked off his feet

arkham

a strange thing to say, and he's not reciprocating at all

he has absolutley no time for that kind of distraction in his life

not unless you're willing to give up on your own criminal plans

and dedicate your time to his villanous endeavours

how are you with robots by the way... just out of curiosity...?

not that it matters! because he's not interested... but...

hey, you never know! it could all work out perfectly

living together in the sewers and building robot armies

you could get married standing on top of batman's corpse!

telltale

this is the only relationship he would consider

it helps that he's had his eye on you

from afar of course, just quietly admiring

because heaven forbid he admit that he feels normal things

but you've broken the seal and now it's a full blown crush

he's already planning your criminal endeavours together

sweet memories to be made, first murder, first heist

so many villainous firsts to experience together

unburied

hang on, wait just a fucking minute, get your ass back here

just because he's little doesn't mean he won't run after you

he's not above chasing a compliment, literally or figuratively

and if you have any more of them you'd like to give out

he's here, ready to bask in your adoration

or if you'd rather take this to a more physical level...

no need to rush though! he's happy to sit here and listen

while you tell him what a cute and precious bean he is

twojar

unphased, you think this doesn't happen all. the. time?

he's banged pam, selina and once got some goodies from harley

plus him and harvey have this weird mutual thing going on

ANYWAY

doesn't matter, because while it's not new to him

he's hardly going to turn down someone's advances

so you can run away, but he'll remember

he never forgets a face, or an ass

and he liked both of yours

dano

yeah, it would be easier for everyone involved

if he just pretended he didn't hear anything you said

and you didn't repeat it, or say anything to him ever again

because you're verging into dangerous territory here

so few kind words have been spoken to him ever

that he's just definitely going to latch on to the first kind soul

who shows him any sign of affection

and before you know it, you're getting little greetings cards

from your secret admirer

and no amount of villainy is going to put him off

btaa

so miss tuesday's task for the foreseeable future is research

find out who you are and what you were doing there

was it a ploy to out-heist him? were you there to distract?

because it worked, annoyingly so

but uh... if miss tuesday also happens to find out your name

and your number... mabye what kind of food you're into

then maybe he could let you distract him again

perhaps over dinner at the nicest restuarant around... if you want

young justice

immense confusion here bless him

some idiotic hero or a mindless member of the public

maybe maybe he could see them developing a crush on him

but another criminal genius? and a very attractive one at that

complimenting him? impossible, it must have been a mistake

which explains why you rushed away from him so quickly

better that way anyway, because he's starting to sweat. a lot.

and he's so flustered he can't even think straight, let alone well

#finnie writes #riddler x reader #riddler x you #riddler headcanon #ridler scenario #gotham riddler #arkham riddler #young justice riddler #dano riddler #zero year riddler #batman unburied riddler #bu riddler #telltale riddler #twojar riddler #riddler #the riddler #btaa riddler

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coolbeansbuddyofmine · 2 years

Note

What fandoms/ships do you write for?

oh thank you, op, truly.

i've been meaning to make a post like this but never got the time to, but now i have a reason to do it!!

let's divide this nicely by type of media:

book/book series:

percy jackson series/heroes of olympus/magnus chase/the kane chronicles/the trials of apollo-anything rick riordan basically-i only write the canonical ships, but i'm willing to try rarepairs as well

the harry potter series (books and movies)-my ships include drastoria, jily, hinny, scorlily :))) also willing to do certain rarepairs like daphnextheo and the like

the hunger games series-mostly really finnick x annie tbh, but willing to do katniss x peeta and works with johanna as well

divergent- same thing, mostly canonical pairs

the maze runner series- primarily thomesa actually

the lunar chronicles- the canonical pairs again

oh, any other popular series works as well like the chronicles of narnia

there may be other ya series or just book series im missing. you can prompt and ask and i'll probably have read it. or dm me as well!! my dms are always open!!

movies/movie series:

any book to movie adaptions are fair game.

inception- i'm obsessed with arthur x ariadne and saito x cobb, dont @ me

mcu!!! i'll write for tasertricks, drukkari, yonvers, sambucky, stucky, stony, pepperony, thorbruce, gilgamesh x thena, shangchi x katy, fosterson!!! all of those are fair game. otherwise, while i'm an avid watcher for the whole universe and i'm familiar with all the characters, i may or may not write for them. if it's a tv show or a movie, send me a prompt, and i'll 9 to 10 odds answer it and write something.

actually, also realized i'd write dc-verse too. diana x steve, bruce x clark, clark x lois, the usual. i do both current dc verse, and the nolan movies (for batman) and even older like the michael keaton movies. i actually watched them all, so idm.

any and all romcoms and chick flicks. like 10 things i hate about you, yes. legally blonde, yes. dont even think twice and just ask.

tv shows (american/british):

sitcoms!! love them.

here's the ones i'll write for: parks and rec (benslie my beloved), nhie (benvi ples), the office (pam x jim mostly but angela x dwight too!), the good place (literally anything. just no eleanor x jason, like that's the only notp), b99 (peraltiago, im a whore). send me a sitcom and i've probs watched it tbh-superstore, kim's convenience, and whatnot. all of them work.

any mcu show or dc-verse show. all of them are fair game. i'm into cloak and dagger, arrow, the flash, jessica jones, daredevil. yk your usual

for british tv shows, it's your usual. sherlock (sherlolly mostly but johnlock works too), merlin (literalLY ANYTHING-they're all so hot), doctor who (10th doctor and rose, im basic yes).

shows/graphic novels (other):

i write other bc this includes anime, manga, kdramas, jdramas, cdramas, t-dramas, and even thai dramas. so im a woman of wide interests as you can see.

anime/mangas:

kaichou wa maid sama- usui x misaki

ouran high school host club- anything with kyoya. i have mostly read oc or reader inserts and i'm not ashamed.

kiss him not me- all ships are fair game, but i prefer the GAY ONES.

your lie in april-canon only ples, and i dont acknowledge the ending so [redacted] doesnt happen

blackbird! i love the main couple, but like im in love with zenki ngl

seirou opera! main couple,,,, enemies to lovers vibe so true

actually any romance manga is fair game, i'm an absolute hedonist when it comes to romance- fluff, smut, angst, i take it all.

wolf girl and black prince- ik it's bla bla blah, dont @ me. i'll write kyouya x erika.

kdramas:

i'm not even joking when i say this but literally anything.

anything i've already written. anything that has aired after 2010 is fair game. i'm obsessed is an understatement.

do not even hesitate please! drop that prompt! ships, well, usually i write canon. that's the only caveat. i write canon. (dm me bc i have some cross-show ships)

actually i'll write for lots of kmovies as well.

thai dramas:

i liked u-prince dont @ me. i do not see it. and i will write it.

and most recently, f4.

for taiwanese dramas, chinese dramas and japanese dramas, drop me a dm or an ask with a prompt and i'll contact you depending on whether i've seen it.

so yeah,,,,, that's all :)))) hopefully this gives you some prompting cushion, op

#my writing #ask box answered!

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blossom-hwa · 2 years

Note

hi! could you please write a drabble for chase the sun? all these wip ideas look so good! in a golcha mood, especially since i just learned a bit of ra pam pam dance LOL

it's so cool that you've been learning ra pam pam!! I'd love to learn a dance but I unfortunately have two left feet so the learning curve is high lmao but ANYWAY thank you for this request <3 I hope you like it!

Winter break drabble game: send me a WIP and maybe a prompt (check out the post for ideas) and I’ll write a drabble from that WIP for you!

Title: Reasons to Stay

WIP: Chase the Sun

Pairing: Jangjun x gender neutral!reader

Word count: 691

Triggers: mentions of death (this is set in a zombie apocalypse)

Snow still sparkles on the windowsill when you wake up, and when you look outside, the ground is still blanketed in a thick white sheet like yesterday. And the day before.

“Still snowy?” Jangjun asks from the bed.

You nod. “Still snowy.”

Which means another day of lying in bed for hours, trying to conserve warmth under all the blankets you could find in this empty shell of a hospital. It wouldn’t be too bad, really, if you weren’t so worried about not having enough food to last the cold months out, but food is a scarce commodity in this empty town and with two people eating, you know you’ll need more before the snow disappears.

But at least it’s warm under the multitude of blankets, warm when Jangjun curls up next to you with nothing but his face peeking out into the open. You drift off throughout the day, closing your eyes and finding it several hours later on the clock when you open them again, and when you open your eyes a final time to see light fading outside, you sigh and close them again. No sense in trying to stay awake further.

“Y/N?”

“Hm?”

There’s a pause. You blink your eyes open to look at Jangjun, who you didn’t even realize was awake. He stares back, a curious look on his face - it almost looks like he wants to smile, you think in your sleepy haze.

He does smile, very slightly. And when he does, a hand lifts out of the sheets to brush something off of your face. “What made you stay?”

The question feels like a dream. Combined with the soothing touch of his skin against yours, it feels fuzzy, almost, but fuzzy in a good way, like the last dregs of consciousness that cling to your mind before you finally fall asleep.

Then you register what he asked, and the dreamy quality falls away.

“I...” You pause. “Honestly, I don’t know.”

Jangjun doesn’t say anything, just waits for you to continue. His hand moves from your face to curl around your body, a steady warmth that helps you think.

“I don’t know,” you say again. “At first, it was just the logical choice. A lot of us were here. There was safety in numbers. And even as the numbers fell -” your voice catches - “there were still enough of us to justify staying. It wasn’t really safe, obviously, but no one really wanted to leave.”

As if he can read your mind, Jangjun pulls you a little closer. You huddle gratefully into his warmth, not the chilly warmth of the blankets, but the warmth of another person.

“But people started leaving when supplies started getting scarce.” You swallow. “It took a lot of energy to feed and clothe half a town of people. After the first group left, people realized they could just... go. Try to escape.” The deep breath you try to take is hard, but you manage. “And none of us could blame them for just trying to survive.”

“Why didn’t you go?” Jangjun asks, so softly that if you weren’t right next to him, you doubt you’d have heard. “You could’ve gone.”

“I almost did.” You close your eyes against the memory of Seungmin, pleading with you to come with him and the two others he was making the journey with. “Seungmin asked me to go. But... I don’t know.” It sounds as stupid as ever to say it out loud, but you do it anyway because that’s the only way you know how to explain it. “I just felt like I couldn’t leave. That there was a reason I had to stay.”

Jangjun goes still. His thumb stops brushing circles against your waist.

“I didn’t know what the reason was,” you continue. “When the last person died, I was about to give up and leave. But then you came. And now...” This time, you pull yourself closer, letting your head fall against Jangjun’s chest. His breath catches, but you don’t move.

Your next words come out in a whisper.

"Now I think I know why I had to stay.”

9 notes · View notes

sooibian · 3 years

Text

IRS and Prejudice

Pairing: CEO!Minseok x fem!employee Reader

Genre / Themes: Fluff!!! Frenemies to (maybe) Lovers? Office AU with some references to ‘The Office’, flirtatious, cat-whisperer, Aries Minseok vs Aries reader!

Description: In which Kim Minseok is nothing like other bosses. Nothing.

A/N: happy birthday to mochi ari! @his-mochi-cheeks 💗

Word count: 2.7k (written in a state of delirium eeeek)

You quickly hit Alt+Tab on the resume that you sat updating for the umpteenth time as the sound of heels click-clacking against the floor grew closer.

“My office,” said your immediate supervisor the moment you looked up at her, a well practised unfazed expression crossing your face. If switching between applications at lighting speed were an Olympic sport, you were certain you’d score nothing less than a gold medal. Yet, somewhere in the back of your mind, you had a niggling doubt about having been caught in the act.

You gave her a slight nod in response, lips stretched into a thin line. Smoothing out the wrinkles in your red and black plaid shirt (the one you wore on most casual Fridays since you could hardly be bothered with your appearance at work; despite the feminist within you, the dull back office team discouraged you from making the effort), you followed her into her office with your best businesslike gait while your mind made up a million excuses for what her keen eyes might have found on your 24-inch screen.

“Sit,” the middle aged woman commanded, resting her hands on her hips. Leaning against her teakwood desk, she crossed her legs at the ankles, pushed her glasses further up the bridge of her nose, and cleared her throat. It’s how she’d fidget when she was on the edge about something.

You imagined your expression if a camera was to pan to you, cinéma vérité. Indulging your curiosity, you shrugged your shoulders with a confused look on .your face

“Everything okay?” You mustered in your best Pam Beesly impression.

Your supervisor let out a deep sigh and answered your question with a more awkward one, "When was the last time you submitted cash reports to the IRS?”

You froze into a still frame.

One of the major reasons you wanted to change jobs was because innumerable responsibilities that were entirely unrelated to your department had been carelessly plonked upon your shoulders. Submitting monthly cash reports to the IRS should have ideally been a task of the receivables department and not shifted onto someone incharge of warranties.

“I - I - ,” you started by trying to justify your negligence before even attempting to answer her question but honestly, you didn’t even want to think about when you last submitted those reports and there was absolutely nothing you could say in your defense.

You’d messed up. Big time.

“Ten months. Ten months is not a small amount in penalties,” she said in her quietest tone as you struggled to fight back angry tears. You’d been with the company for over six years now but it was the first time you’d been accused of laxity. It felt like a punch in the gut.

She turned on her heel to take her seat - movements deliberately slow, allowing you some time to regain your composure. With her eyes on her phone, she leaned back in her chair and said with a sense of finality in her voice, “You know what you have to do.”

Head hung low and eyes lined with tears, you walked out of her office muttering all the things you didn’t say in your defense. The long and short of it was that this duty should’ve never fallen into your lap in the first place. As you paced in the direction of your cubicle (with twenty sets of curious eyes on your back), a pair of hands suddenly gripped your shoulders and a dulcet voice sang, “Careful, Warranties.”

At this point, you were ready to rip your hair out. Looking up you met CEO Minseok Kim’s bright, catlike eyes as he stood at a hair’s breadth distance from you, smelling of expensive cologne - the kind that was equivalent to several months of your salary, and coffee. He always smelled like coffee and in your opinion that was his only redeeming quality.

His handsome face that every woman and man in the office fawned over was a source of your annoyance - you didn’t care for cocksure people at all and he was the uncrowned king of arrogance. He took over the reins of a used car dealership from his father upon his retirement - it was nothing too fancy - yet he enjoyed strutting around the office as if he managed a multinational conglomerate.

It was his younger sister that did the real work. She managed the more important businesses while Minseok had been handed the responsibility of just one company and from your (and the Sales Team Lead Baekhyun's) standpoint, he wasn’t doing a marvellous job at it.

Your Aries energy didn’t permit you to apologize for nearly butting heads with him so you feigned a polite smile and side-stepped to your right and he simultaneously side-stepped to his left, his every little wrong move bolstering your frustration level. It happened again and again and again until he bowed ever so slightly, stretched his arm out and said, “Please,” gesturing for you to leave first, the corners of his mouth curled up in a wide, gummy grin.

What was he so happy about all the time?

“Thanks,” you mumbled and he winked at you in response. You immediately made a mental note to find out if you could report the CEO for improper behaviour. You had a full-blown list that started with his attire - should a CEO be allowed to dress in hoodies, skinny jeans, and comfortable sneakers while the rest of you suffocated in the restraints of formal clothing for four days of the week?

Huffing, you slumped in your chair and texted your aunt informing that you wouldn’t make it to barbecue night and immediately flipped your phone to silent to avoid seeing her colourful messages berating you for the last minute cancellation.

Next, you aggressively typed ‘IRS CASH STATEMENTS’ in big block letters into the sticky notes app as a reminder of the humiliation you experienced today.

***

When you last checked time, it was noon.

The sun had long gone down since then as you tried to wrangle customers’ social security numbers out of the ever-so-reticent-to-share-information receivables department who were all packing up for the day. You were this close to socking them in the jaw but you still maintained a courteous smile and pleaded with them throwing in tonnes of cringey corporate jargon, “Please, I just have three more reports to go and I’d really appreciate your prompt help with the information.”

Suddenly, a familiar cheery voice fell upon your ears, “What’s going on?”

You were surprised to find Minseok still in the office but also extremely grateful for his presence because his single sideway glance at Angela achieved what your five emails and three verbal requests failed to.

Furiously typing away on her keyboard, she said through gritted teeth, “I’ve sent them over.”

Minseok gave you a casual two-finger salute and nearly went skipping back to his ...no, not his but to your immediate supervisor’s now empty, glass-paned office - where you could see him directly and he you - the three walls of your cubicle doing nothing to keep you out of the periphery of his blatant staring and his trademark cheeky grin that lit up his ridiculously handsome face.

Shifting uncomfortably in your seat you returned his smile but not with your eyes. You hated the effect he had on you - making you, a grown woman, blush like a schoolgirl under his self-assured gaze. Minseok was nothing like a CEO - he dressed casually, talked to anyone and everyone like he’s known them forever. He’d come into work regularly after prolonged dry spells only to disappear again. His laidback attitude did no favours to your opinion about him.

To pointedly avoid Minseok you put your head down on your desk on the pretext of catching a little break.

… big mistake.

***

You woke up with a start to the soothing and inviting aroma of... home. Opening your eyes to cinnamon bread drizzled with cream cheese on your desk felt like a fever dream until Minseok rolled his chair forward in your direction and you instinctively backpedaled. Clutching his stomach he broke into a vast roar of laughter while offering you a paper napkin with his other hand.

Brows furrowed, you stared at him quizzically as sleep continued to irritate your eyes and the mark of the ballpoint pen you fell asleep on, niggled at your cheek. Hesitantly, you took the napkin from his hand and dabbed it around your eyes and he shook his head in response, pointing to the annoying curled up corner of his own mouth.

“You were drooling,” he guffawed, his eyes twinkling with mischief. Upon noticing that you immediately grew conscious about your appearance, he waved his hands frantically and added, “It’s no problem… I drool too, haha..in fact it’s ...umm..”

You glowered at him and he instantly looked away allowing you to fix your face as his fingers impatiently drummed away on your desk.

The clock struck 7:53 p.m.

Your last meal had been sometime before noon. Under normal circumstances, you would’ve been grateful for the little snack Minseok had brought you - it was an uncharacteristically thoughtful gesture from someone like him but you’d been expecting your period in a week’s time which made you unusually ravenous.

Lips pursed and head tilted to the side, he handed you a bottle of water which you gulped down within a matter of seconds while steadily growing wary of your ultimate boss’ intentions. But you pivoted your attention to prioritizing. First, you’d wolf down the delicious cinnamon bread and then think about whether you were going to walk out of this office on your own two feet or as a human-skin suit on Minseok’s well defined back.

“Thank you for the snack,” you said to him with a forced smile, “I’ll get back to my reports now.” As you swivelled your chair to face the monitor, his hand hooked at the armrest and he spun you back around towards himself.

“What’s the rush, Warranties?” Resting his chin in his hand, he wondered with a quirked brow and a smile teasing the edges of his plump mouth.

It was not your place to ask what your boss was doing in his own office at 8 p.m. on a Friday night, especially one that hardly ever came in to begin with. He could clock in and out at his own whim and sit wherever he liked even if it meant being an utter inconvenience to someone on a stringent deadline but you took your shot anyway. Doing nothing to mask the sarcasm in your tone, you said to him, “Minseok, if you came into work everyday, you wouldn’t have to stay back so late, you know.”

Unfazed, he responded, “But my schedule doesn’t allow me to come into work everyday.”

Schedule?

You decided not to stretch this conversation longer than necessary, especially not after his ridiculous response. Drawing in a deep breath, you said, “I just have five reports left to finish, Minseok. Maybe we can talk later.”

“I run an organization involved in wildlife rights and care,” he explained anyway, rummaging the pockets of his jeans.

No shit, you scoffed. If only Minseok Kim could get any more predictable. A not-for-profit organization was every rich kids guide...no facade...no scam.. to make it seem like they actually did something.

Handing you a card, he continued, “It requires me to travel extensively - last month I was in a park in South America, working with this one puma, Elsa. She was a cage cat who got so used to the confines that she wouldn’t come out of the cage for walks in the jungle because she didn’t like anyone touching her collar, so we couldn’t attach a rope to walk with her. But, I think I’m somewhat of a genius and a cat-whisperer. Within three to four weeks, we managed to get her out of the cage.”

He pulled his phone out next, brought his chair closer to yours and started swiping through the picture gallery to show you a magnificent puma walking around the park as if she were its reigning queen. He resumed the story proudly, “Now she walks every single day, without a rope around her neck. And she’s very, very loving and affectionate.” His face lit up with awe and admiration for Elsa.

Probably you'd misunderstood Minseok…just a little. His passion about his organization did something to favourably change your opinion about him but that didn't mean you didn't have your immediate supervisor and the IRS to answer to anymore.

"Why are you telling me all this?" You asked, covertly moving closer to your workstation.

"We have a vacant position in Treasury." He answered and you immediately stopped dead in your tracks.

Mouth agape, you exclaimed, "You did not just try to poach me from your own company! Minseok you don't cease to surprise me -"

With a smirk on his face, he gave you finger guns. "That’s always been the goal, Warranties!"

"I still have five-

"Three..you have only three reports left. How stupid do you think I am?”

Caught in a lie, you could do nothing to save face so you simply pivoted your chair only to be forcefully twirled back by his strong arms again.

“Now what?" You asked, letting out a groan.

With his foot on one leg of the chair base, he pushed you back towards your desktop and said with a voice laced heavily with his trademark sass, "Check your inbox first."

Grumbling under your breath, you said something along the lines of ‘what does a CEO do anyway’. You then refreshed your inbox, impatiently waiting for an email of several MBs to load as Minseok watched you with an expression of victory painted across his features.

Your mouth fell open to find perfect to the t cash reports for the last three months which made you instantly regret your snide remarks.

Minseok snapped you out of your reverie with his smooth voice, “I may not know much of what a corporate CEO is supposed to do but I do how to get work done. Angela was more than happy to do this for a ‘team leader’ nameplate on her desk.”

Struggling to hold his compelling gaze, you muttered, “I don’t know how to thank you...”

“But I do!” He quipped.

“Of course, you do,” you sighed.

“Let me join you for barbeque night at your aunt’s..i’m sure they won’t mind you bringing a friend along?”

Before you could begin looking for a bug in your cubicle, he explained, “I caught a preview of her message on your phone while you were happily tucked away in dreamland.”

“You - you - that’s an invasion of privacy!” You lambasted him.

Stifling a yawn, he leaned back in his chair and said casually, “I was bored. Besides, privacy is a myth in today’s day and age...just like democracy, the importance of drinking eight glasses of water a day, the goldfish memory, or the thing about houseflies -”

“Okay, okay! I get it! Privacy is a myth. You - you can join us, I guess,” you interrupted him.

With widened eyes he emphasized, “Unless you don’t want me to -”

No matter how much and how often Minseok irked you, he was a charmer. You knew your aunt and your cousins would love having someone like him join in the get together and it really wouldn’t hurt your reputation to bring your boss, especially one like Minseok, along at a family event. You also couldn’t deny the excitement bubbling in your belly at the prospects of working in an NPO’s treasury department.

“You know that’s not what I meant -” You replied, eyes on the monitor as you double checked the email you’d drafted for your immediate supervisor.

“So you want me to come along?” He asked in his flamboyantly flirtatious tone.

Ignoring him, you hit send only after adding a little smiling emoji. Shutting down your system, you picked up your coat and answered with a genuine smile this time, “I’m driving.”

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

A/N: the story about puma Elsa is real! i’ll link it in one of the rb’s for those interested :)

#exosnet #exowritersnet #exo fanfic #minseok fanfic #xiumin fanfic #xiumin fluff #exo fluff #minseok fluff #exo oneshot #minseok oneshots #xiumin oneshots #xiumin scenario #exo scenarios #exo x reader #minseok x you #exo x read #xiumin x reader #minseok x reader #xiumin x you

63 notes · View notes

barkspawn · 1 year

Note

a: "you're so pretty." b: *nervous laugh* "im what?" a: "i said you're so pretty" (a then proceeds to kiss b) prompt with Elliott please🙏

Featuring: Dresses with pockets

Amelia both loved and hated dressing up. Her hair was always uncooperative and her makeup was never even. The flower dance was no different. She decided this year to keep it simple. She was already wearing the new dress she and Emily had been working on and had already applied some basic makeup.

She huffed as she examined herself in the mirror, ensuring she was good to go, knowing the walk itself would take some time.

Quickly, she pinned some of her hair in an attempt at something different from her day-to-day, knowing she'd probably take it out by the time the dance even started.

She started out the door, waving a quick goodbye to Loaf before making her way south toward the forest.

She was able to fit her phone in the pocket on one side and her small pouch of coins in the other.

Emily is a genius for the pockets.

Emily was honestly a genius with sewing in general. They took Amelia's measurements one time and Emily made the entire dress and it fit Amelia perfectly. Amelia couldn't wait to see her and show her how nice it turned out.

Elliott crossed her mind more than once. She thought about asking him to dance this year if she could gather the courage. She couldn't even begin to imagine actually doing so. If she remembered correctly, he looked incredible in his suit to the point where it flustered her. He had been her friend since day one and he took to admitting she inspired him. Once, he referred to her as his muse and she feared her heart might explode.

Elliott was an incredibly attractive man, which made it all the more difficult when she started liking him. She couldn't help but think he was so far beyond her league.

Her smile shone brightly as she approached the small bridge to the dance area, greeting Evelyn and George as she crossed.

“You look lovely, dear,” Evelyn commented with a light touch to Amelia's shoulder. Evelyn hadn't been very subtle about her disapproval when it came to Amelia's tattoos, but she eventually understood that even if Amelia wanted to change them (she didn't), she couldn't.

George gave a small hum in either a hello or agreement, clearly miserable being out here.

“Thank you, Evelyn. The flowers are gorgeous,” Amelia looked around before her gaze came back to the older couple, “you've truly outdone yourself.”

The woman gave a bright smile and waved her off, “many years of practice. Thank you! Now, go on and don't let us keep you from the party!”

Amelia gave her thanks and walked into the large area, looking around curiously. Everyone seemed to look so nice, even if Sam, Sebastian, and Abigail looked miserable. Amelia was worried she was late with how many people were already there.

She gave a few hellos on her way to the snack table, pouring herself a cup of punch.

She felt a nudge on her side, looking over at Pam, who was laughing to herself, “hey, kid. I put a little extra something in the punch.”

Amelia opened her mouth to say something, but closed it, not wanting to start that issue. Instead, she gave a half-hearted laugh before giving Lewis a heads-up to make another bowl for the children.

She didn't switch hers out, though. She might as well take the courage where she can get it.

She turned and smiled brightly as she saw Leah, waving at her from a table along the side. Amelia beamed, making her way over.

“Thank Yoba. I thought I was going to wander aimlessly forever,” Amelia teased as the woman pulled her in for a tight hug.

“Never!” Leah laughed, stepping back and looking Amelia over, “Em did a really great job! Then again I'm sure that you could pull off a burlap sack.”

Amelia shook her head, feigning shock, “you mean I could have worn a burlap sack? Damn!”

Leah rolled her eyes before leaning on the table, tall enough to do so while standing, “I definitely think Elliott will be happy with the dress,” Leah teased, heat growing in Amelia’s face before she added on, “or the sack.”

“Leah!”

Leah held her hands up in surrender, still laughing, “I'm sorry, I couldn't help myself,” she took a deep breath, looking around at everyone, “speaking of El,”

“Leah.”

“Have you asked him to dance?”

Amelia felt her cheeks still burning as she stole glances at the entrance to the field far more often than she'd like to admit. She shot Leah a look, making her groan.

“Ames. If you don't ask him, you won't know. I keep telling you,” Leah put her hands on Amelia's shoulders, “he is definitely into you.”

Amelia frowned, sighing, “and if he isn't? Then I look like a fool and he–”

Amelia caught sight of Elliott at the entrance as he politely declined to buy anything from Pierre. Leah must have noticed, following her gaze to the man, a grin growing over her face.

Amelia's mind had gone completely blank and it seemed like she had forgotten how to breathe. Elliott looked nice every day, of course, but today, he wore a white suit, and although it was the same as every other suit here, he looked incredible. It was perfectly tailored, likely also Emily’s doing, and brought out every perfect feature the man had.

“Breathe, Ames. Don't need you dying before you can even ask him,” Leah nudged her, bringing her back to reality.

“You didn't tell me that he looked this amazing in a suit,” Amelia hummed before shooting a glare at Leah, who laughed aloud, “that's just a fact. Sure I'm biased but it's unreal.”

Leah shook her head as she waved at Elliott. He gave a bright smile as he played off his own double take at Amelia. Leah looked at her, who stood completely oblivious.

Leah hugged Elliott as he approached, a quiet laugh escaping his lips, “well hello, Leah,” he pats her back, returning the small hug before he met Amelia's gaze, “and hello, Amelia.”

She couldn't help but smile, “hey, El.”

“You look lovely,” Elliott started before looking over at Leah as well, “you both do.”

“We always look lovely, sir,” Leah teased before smiling briefly at Amelia, “you certainly look nice though, right Ames?”

Amelia was caught off guard, but smiled, “yeah, you really do.”

Leah was clearly already growing impatient with the other woman, “So, El, who are you dancing with this year?”

He arched an eyebrow, not seeing the look Amelia shot her, “no one at present. Why? Are you asking?”

Leah’s lip curled in playful disgust, “with you?” she furrowed her brow, “not my type, Romeo.”

He laughed and shook his head, “I take no offense to any of that other than being called Romeo. I'm hardly that… impulsive.”

Amelia laughed, taking another drink of her punch as Leah met her eyes.

“Find someone fast then, not-Romeo,” Leah commented before starting toward the punch bowl, “I'll be back in a bit!”

Amelia's eyes widened a bit, cursing her best friend as she left.

“I always feel like she's part of some maniacal plan when she acts like this,” Elliott joked, leaning casually on the table. Amelia laughed, shaking her head.

“El, somehow I don't think you're wrong,” she raised the cup to her lips once more before noticing he was looking down at her. She felt her face flush as she caught his eye, “do I have something on my face?” she touched her cheek, fingers cold against the burning skin.

He smiled as if suppressing laughter at a thought, “not at all. Just admiring your dress. You truly do look lovely.”

She cursed the blush rising in her cheeks, about to comment before he added, “pink is also a lovely color on you.”

She furrowed her brow, looking down at her dress before it occurred to her that he was commenting on her blush.

She frowned, placing her cup on the table, “I can't help it. You come in here like an Adonis and start complimenting me,” his brows rose as she continued, “not to mention I blush if someone so much as likes my shoes. So don't pick on me,” she teased, turning to look out over the vast expanse of people and the dance floor.

It was a long moment before he answered, his tone amused, “like an Adonis, huh?”

She felt her cheeks burning again, trying to will it away. She did say that, didn't she?

“El, you know you look good. It's not like a secret.”

“Strange how it surprises me then,” he hummed, looking straight out over the people, taking in everyone, “and what about you?”

“Hmm?” she glanced up at him, trying to read his face, “I don't think I'm an adonis if that's what you're asking.”

He laughed aloud then, the sound sending a flood of butterflies through her being, “no, I'm asking who you will be dancing with.”

“Oh, uh…” she bit her lower lips, giving a slight shrug as she turned her gaze forward again, not meeting his eye, “no one. Just watching this year.”

“Well, that's just not acceptable. Perhaps we can change that.”

She laughed quietly, “I'm sorry?”

He looked down at her, who had finally looked up at him. He gave a warm smile before arching an eyebrow, curious as to if she actually didn't understand.

“I'm asking you to dance with me, Amelia,” his smile grew when he saw the pink rise over her cheeks.

“Oh,” she smiled, nudging him with her shoulder, “I guess I’d be alright with that.”

He put his hands over his heart, a pout playing at his expression, “you wound me, Amelia. Don't sound so excited.”

She rolled her eyes and shook her head, “maybe this is how I show excitement.

He laughed again, that beautiful melody.

“I've seen you on several occasions far more excited.”

“Maybe this is just maximum excitement,” she teased, the microphone coming to life with minor feedback.

“It's time for the long-awaited flower dance! Grab your partners and get ready,” Lewis called, yelling despite there being a microphone.

Elliott offered his arm, Amelia wasting no time in taking it as they walked to the dance floor. She caught sight of Leah almost choking on a tortilla chip as she spotted the two, looking genuinely shocked.

Amelia and Elliott took their places across from one another, this being the most annoying part of the dance. Though the longer she took imagining his hand on her waist and her hand in his, the more she realized it was actually about to happen.

They met eyes as he, and the rest of the men, danced closer before bowing in exchange for a curtsy. He stepped in and took her into his arms, effortlessly dancing in their small space. She met his eyes once more during the dance, his smile faltering for just a second, though she noticed.

The dance came to an end and people started to clear the floor. They made their way back toward the table. She barely heard his voice when he commented, “could you look at me for just a moment?”

Once they got to the table, she turned and looked up at him, her breath catching at the look he gave her. It was like he had just figured out some complicated issue and was marveling at the solution. But there was also a certain fear she didn't often see in his eyes. She looked over his features, worried that something was wrong. Was he leaving the valley? Did he notice that she had feelings and he had to turn her down?

“You are very pretty, Amelia.”

Amelia laughed, the sound nervous and breathy, “I'm sorry, I'm what?”

“You're very pretty,” he tucked his finger under her chin, meeting her eyes with a decisive smile, “I’d even say beautiful.”

Before she had a chance to respond, he leaned down and pressed his lips to hers, his free hand falling to her waist as she stood shocked for a moment. She felt him falter for a moment, concerned for her lack of response. Before he could pull back, she reached up and touched his face, her other hand resting over his lapel. It was a long few seconds before they couldn't help but smile, their foreheads resting against one another.

“I'd call you handsome,” she breathed, “but we already know I think you're an Adonis.”

He laughed quietly before pressing his lips to hers in one more too-short kiss, cut off by an excited yell from Leah, “I honestly was not sure if the whole leaving you two alone thing would work, but damn!”

Elliott kept his arm around Amelia, her heart beating hard and fast, “and I got a picture!”

Amelia laughed aloud, giving their friend a look, “you just take pictures of people kissing now?”

“I do when it's obvious that my two best friends who do nothing but drool over each other finally do.”

Amelia frowned. Elliott did not need to know how much she liked him. But.. He liked her too?

“I'm going to leave you lovebirds alone,” Leah grinned as she walked back over to see Emily.

“You drooled over me then?” she teased, relishing the feeling of his arm around her waist.

“I'm still not certain that this is real,” he joked, pressing a kiss to the top of her head, “this is the thing of old romance novels. Just… Being around you brings me so much inspiration. It's like…” he paused, looking down and meeting her gaze, “you're my muse.”

She laughed, leaning her head into his chest, “I promise I'm very real. I don't know if I could be your muse, that's so much bigger than me. Besides, the women in those books–”

“--couldn't hold a candle to you, Amelia. I truly believe that you are my muse,” he paused, smiling as she wrapped her arms around him in a hug, “I suppose this is when I invite you for a long walk on the beach, hm?”

She laughed, breathing him in. He smelled of the sea, yes, but his smell reminded her of when it rains and she would curl up by the fire with a new book. It just felt like comfort. Like home.

“Only if there will be stars filling the entire sky,” she teased, “I could bring some wine.”

He smiled, “most romantic date Pelican Town has ever seen.”

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