#using my gentle Audrey voice

[meduarts]

Managing Life (Part 3/?)

Summary: Marinette has been Audrey Bourgeois' secretary ever since she voiced out her dream of having her own business. Audrey thinks that she should learn more about the nooks and crannies of running a fashion business. However, fate has other plans for her, and honestly, what can our resident guardian could do to counter fate?

Disclaimer: I do not own MLB or DCU.

Pairings: Dick Grayson/Marinette Dupain-Cheng

Taglist: @timinette-is-bestbest, @peach-blueberry-pie, @tinybrie, @taewinterbear95, @its-maemain, @flyhighdreamer, @kokoroluna @kitsun3699 @lilfuturescarss @kaimodius @sinoffalsejudgement @night-ngale @laydeekrayzee @fauxnormal @stella17luna @plz-excuse-my-inner-gay @ae-vixrose @toodaloo-kangaroo @ascetic-orange @l-of-the-gbt @lex-am @hemeraandnyxx @tbehartoo(Tell me if you want to be a part of the taglist!)

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<Beginning>

Bruce walked to the restaurant that Audrey and he agreed on and was led to a seat where he found his old friend waving at him with her signature mischievous smile. Audrey Bourgeois stood up and opened her arms, "Brucie darling! How fabulous it is that you could finally join us!" she crooned and gave him a hug.

The hug wasn't uncomfortable, in fact, it was a familiar hug that he had somewhat missed. He pulls away and gave her a charming smile "A pleasure as always Audrey, how's your daughter, and how's Andre?"

"Chloe-bee is as spectacular as ever and you know how Andre is, still running Paris as a Mayor should." She paused and her smile turned somber. "I heard about your loss, I'm so sorry, Brucie."

Bruce smiled weakly, "I'll manage. I met someone today that gave me hope."

"Good." Audrey nodded with a sniff "Now! I want to introduce you to my darling apprentice! Oh, you are going to love her, Brucie!" Then she turns around to reveal a girl who was looking at him like she had seen a ghost.

That's when he noticed that the girl was the same young woman who gave him the amulet at the park. "I'd like to introduce you to my darling apprentice! Bruce Wayne, meet Marinette Dupain-Cheng. Marinette darling, this is Brucie Wayne!"

The girl in question, who had been staring at him without his notice trying to override her shock of actually meeting Bruce Wayne at the park, stood up and held out her hand. "I-it's nice to meet you again, Sir! Oh merde, I hope I wasn't too nosey back then! Merde, you must think I'm some kind of lunatic preaching to you like that! I-it wasn't my attention!" She rambled on her apology.

The businessman chuckled and cupped her hand gently, "No, you don't need to apologize. I'm the one who should thank you."

"M-m-m-me??? T-thank m-me?? What for?" She stuttered.

"For giving me hope. It's not often that I could find a reason to hope in Gotham. But somehow you did, young lady." He said with a gentle smile to which Marinette replied with a bright smile of her own.

"You two have met before?" Audrey interrupted with a curious gleam in her eyes.

"Yes, a coincidence actually. I went to the park to get my head off...things and I met this young lady who was minding her own business. She gave me an amulet of sorts that somehow lifted my spirits."

"Ah, the famous Marinette Amulette. She made me one as well and the precious thing helped me mend my relationship with my Chloe-bee. You struck once again, Marinette." Audrey winked at her protege and the girl squeaked in embarrassment.

"Truly?" Bruce quirked up an eyebrow and looked at Marinette.

"I-it was nothing! I-i didn't make yours M Wayne! I-it was pure coincidence I assure you! The one that I gave you was from my mentor!"

Bruce's eyes widened, "Would you like it back?"

"Non! It's okay, I'm sure you need it more than I do." Marinette refused with a sweet smile.

"Always helping others, that's my Marinette!" Audrey bragged proudly and Marinette's face became even redder. "Anyways! Shall we start dining? I have a lot of things I want to brag about my precious protege!"

Bruce chuckled, "Well, I'm all ears."

With that, they all took their seats and began the meal course. Audrey bragged about how Marinette skillfully managed all the divisions in Style Queen, how the company profits had been increasing exponentially, and how Style Queen's latest fashion line as well as their fashion show became a hot topic in the fashion industry, she also bragged about how her employees worship the ground Marinette walks on, and how she handled rude clients as well as pushy investor.

Every accomplishment that Audrey proudly states made Marinette turns redder and redder. Bruce was a bit worried if the girl would combust anytime soon.

"The best of all, she is a great martial artist! Oh, I do not need extra bodyguards when I have to go outside or on the red carpet! Marinette has all the package and has soaked up all of my teachings about the fashion world! I am sure that this little girl will go on and have a huge fashion business!"

"I-i'm sure you are just over-exaggerating, Audrey! I still have much to learn! I still have little grasp of business management for large companies. Not that your company isn't large Audrey! B-but I wanted to build a company that will engage in different divisions! Not only fashion, perhaps in technology as well, and the food business!"

Audrey smiled warmly at Marinette and Bruce take notice of how soft it was. Audrey must really love the girl to be able to garner a such a smile.

"So, you want to build an empire?" state the owner of Wayne Enterprise.

Marinette looked at him with wide eyes, "E-empire?? N-noo, I-i could never! That would take time and connections! Big connections that I don't have at the moment!"

"Which you could start now. I'm sure there will be an opportunity coming to you soon." Bruce said with a secretive smile. He glanced at Audrey and the woman had a smug look on her face. Bruce sighed in defeat. "You were right, Audrey. She's going to places."

"Of course! I don't remember the last time I have been wrong!" Audrey boasted and took a sip of her wine.

Marinette decided that all of these compliments are getting her light-headed so she excused herself from the table to go to the restroom.

"So? What did I tell you? Isn't she amazing?" Audrey gushed happily. "Marinette has been a blessing to me and I'm sure she will be to you too."

"Perhaps," He shrugged "I'm going to ask her for her portfolio and resume-"

"Already way ahead of you, Brucie. I have sent you an email with an attachment! I was a bit concerned to let her go, however, if she passes your interview. I know I can rest easy knowing that someone fair is going to take care of my protege." The Style Queen lamented as she took another sip of her wine.

"When do you think would be the perfect time to interview her? I know that your schedule is packed for the week?"

"Perhaps on Thursday? I can send her to you in the morning and in the afternoon I shall be there for the fitting for your family as well."

"Perfect." He agreed easily and texted his assistant about the change of schedule. Almost immediately Marinette joins them again and all discussion about her stopped as they enjoyed their respective dinner.

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

Marinette threw herself on her hotel bed and reflect on what had happened today. Her first day in Gotham and she had accidentally met Bruce Wayne at the park, console the grieving man as if she knows what was going on in his life which she doesn't, met the guy again at dinner which sent her into an apology frenzy and somehow blabbed out her dreams of becoming a businesswoman!

She groaned pathetically and start hitting herself with a pillow. Plagg and Trixx looked at each other and sighed exasperatedly. Their guardian is having one of those mental breakdowns, she usually does that only this time it's for a questionable reason.

"Guardian, I think you are overreacting," said Trixx as he floats next to her head. "It's not as bad as it seems."

"I made a fool of myself, Trixx. How am I not overreacting?" Marinette muffled underneath the pillow.

"Kitten, I don't think you made a fool of yourself." Plagg countered with a snark.

Marinette moved the pillow to glare at the kwami of destruction, "Plagg, I met the man earlier in the park and failed to notice who he was! Then I made the brilliant move to spout some wisdom shit to him as if I know how he felt! After that, I completely rambled on about my dreams of having my own business! I probably sound like a fool to him!"

Plagg sighed heavily and floated above Marinette's face. "Pigtails, you gave him the advice that Fu did when you lost your friends. Sure it doesn't seem like the same context but doesn't tell me that advice didn't help you during Fu's passing. You said it yourself, you're doing the next right thing and that right thing just so happens to be giving a grieving man a piece of advice.

The man even thanked you for giving him hope! Plus, not knowing who he was and treating him as a normal man who was grieving the loss of his son is probably something that he needs! No judgments or snarky comments whatsoever. Then, the dinner thing.

The man seemed very interested in your dreams, pigtail. He doesn't sound condescending and instead he was genuinely interested in your ideas. Personally, that's not a mess up, kid."

Marinette had sat herself up upon listening to Plagg's speech, her eyes had started to water and she had been looking at Plagg in gratitude. She sniffed as the first teardrop falls to her pillow. "You really think so?"

"Yes, kit! I was there in your purse too, remember? Now you got two eyewitnesses, so no beating yourself up!" Trixx joined and floated next to Plagg.

Marinette sniffled as tears started to rain down her cheeks.

"Oh, Marinette..." Tikki's voice popped up and gave the girl a hug. The other kwamis started to show up as well and they all gave Marinette a hug of their own.

"Thank you." She whispered in a small voice. Plagg scoffed and gave her a light kiss on her cheek.

"Marinette, you're our true guardian, our true champion, and lastly you are ours to protect, ours love, ours to cherish. We'll be there to tell you when you mess up and we'll be there to help you pick up the pieces when you break down. Never forget about that." Tikki promised.

Marinette felt better after hearing her beloved kwami's encouraging words. "So...do you think I made a good impression?"

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

On Tuesday morning, just like what she had scheduled Marinette and Audrey went to the scheduled shoot at Gotham Garden. Everything was kind of hectic and Marinette was this close to ripping out her hair out of pure stress. If another bad thing happens, she was sure to snap.

They were in the middle of a shoot when something did happen. The Riddler made an appearance and Marinette was not happy. While the Gothamites had made themselves scarce like it was rehearsed, Marinette was not taking any of it.

"What is this?!" She yelled in anger, she felt Duusu's magic flowing from the peacock brooch on her chest, fueling her anger as a result.

"I do not consent to get our photoshoot ruined by some fashion disaster!" She screamed as she manhandled the closest goon and threw them into a pond nearby. "I was having a bad day and this-this connard decided to make things even worse! Non! I do not consent! I do not need it!" She screeched angrily as she breaks one of the goons' arms.

The main villain's jaw dropped, who wouldn't? A petite Chinese-french woman just throws a man twice her size and she doesn't look like she's stopping any soon! The Riddler quickly hid his shock and played his role as a villain.

"Well well well, a brave woman is she? Now, I am here to test people's intelligence, that's all. No harm done, right?"

"Non! You will leave at once! When you have a better sense of style you can come back again. I mean what are you wearing?! It. Is. A. Mess!" Marinette growled as she flipped another goon that tries to tackle her. When she finally stands in front of the Riddler she had already manhandled 4 goons out of her way and it looks like Riddler is next.

"Ah-" "ferme ta gueulei! You do not get to speak! Not in this situation, oh no monsieur!" She interrupts harshly and pulls down the ridiculously garish purple tie.

"If you do not get your ridiculous-looking bowler hat out of here, I will strip off your clothes, shred it all, and have you sent to Arkham naked! Do you understand me?!" She snarled and glared at the Riddler.

"Are you threatening me, little girl?"

Marinette snapped.

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

Batman arrived to find a half-naked hog-tied Riddler, his tied-up goons, and the french young girl he had met yesterday laughing maniacally while happily ripping part of what seems to be the Riddler's clothes.

"What's the situa- what the hell," Nightwing whispered dumbly next to him. "I-is that Riddler? Hog-tied with his own tie?"

"I believe it is..." Batman answered equally in shock. He was watching Marinette warily as she throws pieces of the Riddler's clothing onto the burning pile. She was even humming a happy tune while doing so! Batman was speechless.

As he and Nightwing watched the girl, Audrey Bourgeois decided to make herself known. "Ah, Monsieur Batman! Lovely of you to finally clean this mess. I'm sure you can handle the GCPD, oui?"

Batman cleared his throat, "Yes, of course, Madame. May I ask what happened?"

"The fashion disaster just crashed into our photoshoot and my already stressed out assistant is taking none of his...what do you Americans say it? Ah, bullshit."

"I-is she always like this?" Nightwing asked in concern.

"Non...Well sometimes. The shoot was not running as smoothly as she would've liked and the fashion disaster just came at the wrong place at the wrong time." Audrey explained as she watches Marinette rip apart the last piece of the Riddler clothes.

Marinette then skipped to the Riddler happily, "Now! What have you learned today?" She chippers with a bright smile.

The Riddler flinched, "U-uh n-not to w-wear too m-many symbols?"

"Good! What else?"

"B-bowler hats a-are a fashion no." "And?"

"U-uh..." He faltered, face paling as he tries to find the answer. Marinette frowned and puts her hand on her waist while staring down menacingly at the rogue.

"Find your hue." Marinette spelled out patiently. The Riddler nodded shakily and gave her a small smile.

"R-right! F-find m-my hue." He agreed franticly.

"Good! If you want more fashion tips, just search for MDC and I'm sure they will help!" She clapped excitedly and turns around to find new audiences who were looking at her with various types of amusement. "Bonjour, are you taking the walking disaster to Arkham?" She asked sweetly.

Batman and Nightwing looked at each other as if having a silent discussion before the older of the two nodded at the young designer.

"Excellent. I've made sure he and his accomplices are tied up nicely. I am pretty good with my knots! Can we resume our photoshoot while we wait for the GCPD to come?"

"Uhhhh..." Nightwing looked at Batman for help. Batman was speechless but quickly hid his astonishment with a cough.

"Perhaps, a break? I'm sure the other would appreciate it."

Marinette squeaked and turned around to see the Gothamite models all looking at her in awe but still trembling after witnessing the ordeal.

"Merde, Je suis desole! Take five everybody! I think we have warm tea ready for this kind of situation. Make sure everybody stays calm and well rested, yes?" She ordered with an apologetic bow. "I am so sorry you have to experience that!"

The group of models looked at each other before giving her cheers and shouts of excitement. "Ma'am, you were awesome!" "So cool!" "A Badass!" "The Riddler got his ass handed to him! YEAH!"

Marinette jolts and hid her face behind her hands in embarrassment. "J-just take five!" She whimpered and turned to see Nightwing eyeing her in amusement. She blushed even more under his gaze and meekly stepped behind Audrey. "I'm just going to be quiet now." She laughed awkwardly.

The GCPD eventually came and was surprised and couldn't even begin to describe what they felt when they got a hold of the situation. The Riddler was shaking like a leaf, paling whenever the small assistant made a pointed glare at him, and the goons were no better. They were begging, yes begging, to be arrested immediately.

Commissioner Gordon walked to Batman and Nightwing who were standing with two women. "What the hell happened, Batman?" He gritted out when he saw the whimpering state of the Riddler. The vigilantes both share a look before Batman decided to give him an answer.

"The young woman should be able to answer that question, Jim." He said and nodded over to a small young lady with blue-black hair, large round blue eyes, and fair white skin. Is she one of Bruce's?

The girl in question meeped and made confusing noises while her cheeks began to redden and spread to her ears. Nightwing and the other lady burst out laughing next to Batman while the Bat just sighed tiredly at his hand.

"Ah, did I say that out loud? Pardon me, miss."

Marinette tried to smile but it looked a tad awkward, "I-it's fine, and no, I-i'm not a Wayne." She answered politely. Gordon clears his throat and starts questioning the young woman and she tried to explain to her best capabilities.

Honestly, he was shocked and confused. The Commissioner looked at Batman and the vigilante only gave him a nod, as if agreeing to the whole story.

"Thank you for the statement, miss. I hope this doesn't happen again in a near future." He nodded politely and went off to interrogate the other eyewitnesses as well. After he had collected all the statements, cementing the facts that the petite woman did handle the Riddler and his goons single-handedly he left transferring the criminals to Arkham to the other officers. Batman left the scene deciding to escort the entourage back to Arkham while Nightwing stayed back to make sure everything is settled.

Nightwing wasn't quite sure about his opinion regarding the petite girl in front of him. In a glimpse, the girl doesn't look like she could throw men twice her size or have the guts to scream at a supervillain. Either she was brave or a complete idiot, and he wasn't sure which category the girl falls in.

She looks like she couldn't hurt a fly but apparently, that wasn't it! Nightwing continues to watch the girl as she fumbles around, even tripping a few times over nothing, trying to make sure that the models and staff she's working with are okay. That girl is an enigma and Nightwing, doesn't know how to feel about it.

After he was sure that everything would be fine when he left, he went back to the cave. He pushed away any lingering thoughts about the girl, it's not like he was going to meet her again, anyways.

#dc x mlb #mlb x batfam #mlb x dc #batfam x marinette #dickinette #platonic daminette #platonic timinette #platonic brucinette #platonic jasonette #platonic maribat #maribat #maribat fanfic #maribat fandom #managing life au #marinette dupain cheng #ml marinette #marinette as secretary #secretary!marinette #secretary marinette needs to run my life #mlb crossover

[starry-eyed-toucan-writes]

“Born From the Same Ink” sneak peek

Warning: Bendy and the Dark Revival Spoilers below!!!

Did anyone else get salty when Audrey shocked our baby boy, especially considering she’s RIGHT HANDED!? So many problems could have been avoided if she used her other hand. I know why they did it (drama + plot) but my heart is still broken. So I wrote a fic about it that I’ll be posting tomorrow. 

Please enjoy this sneak peek!

“Bendy…you’re real?” Audrey asked, amazement overlaying her voice.

Too excited at the prospect of meeting her favorite animated character of all time, Audrey hardly noticed when the living toon took a fearful step back as she approached.

“Whoa this is amazing,” Audrey gushed with another eager step forward, this time noticing when Bendy matched it with another apprehensive step backward. Guilt leaked into Audrey's conscience and she crouched down to appear less threatening. 

“It’s okay, I won’t hurt you. I promise.” Audrey assured. Moving very slowly, she placed her gent pipe on the ground, raising her hands in a placating gesture after doing so. 

The living toon somewhat relaxed but he still watched Audrey with an apprehension that hurt to see on her beloved character's face.

“It’s okay,” Audrey insisted, waving him forward with her right hand, her dominant one. Her left hand was still tingling strangely after that golden symbol appeared, and after dissolving three lost ones with it she instinctively favored her other hand. She held her hand out to the toon, hoping he would take it. 

To Audrey's immense delight, Bendy timidly reached out to match the gesture, interlocking his fingers with hers.

“I’m your friend. I won’t hurt you,” she promised with a comforting smile, giving his hand a gentle squeeze.

Bendy smiled and squeezed her hand in return.

AND THEN NOTHING BAD HAPPENED EVER

Jk, but nothing bad happens at least in this scene. 

*Edit: Posted the full chapter! 

#batdr spoilers #bendy #batdr #batim #batdr audrey #batdr fanfiction #bendy and the dark revival #bendy and the ink machine #ink demon #ink bendy #Born From the Same Ink

[lumosinlove]

Day Seven:

On the seventh day of Winterfic, Hazel gave to you, a Leo/Logan/Finn Bridgerton AU. Part One.

In short, Logan didn’t want to be the diamond of the season. He had no interest in the balls, or the white tuxedos and gowns that those eligible wore, or the deep bow he’d been trained in (and perfected, he couldn’t resist adding) since the age of seven. He didn’t need attention from the royal family, and he didn’t need a husband. He was perfectly capable of having affairs of his own—even if those so-called affairs, a red-headed one in particular—were scandalously below his rank. He could hear his mother’s voice in his head. Do you understand what you’re going to inherit one day, Logan? You’ll need a partner who can assist you, not one who is only too happy to be sleeping in a feather bed for once in their life.

“Arms out, please, my Lord.”

Logan sighed and did as he was told from where he was standing on the tailor’s pedestal. He studied the new, white set of tails in the triptych, full-length mirror. The three panels made him feel surrounded, and by himself, no less—the worst sort of being stared down.

“Look at that,” came his sister’s voice suddenly. “No wonder any self-respecting family would simply die to have those green eyes of yours appear in their heir one day. Oh, I’m sorry, did I say family? I meant any long-sheltered, child-wanting youth.”

“Do shut up,” Logan said, and looked at the tailor. “Are we almost finished, Mr. Bell?”

Mr. Bell, who had been fitting Logan since he was small, smiled at him in the mirror. “Yes, sir, almost.”

“Aw,” Noelle sighed, falling into one of the plush couches. Logan looked at her in the mirror. She was wearing a simple dress, as usual. None of the frill that seemed so in fashion these days. It was green though, like most things that the Tremblay siblings owned tended to be. “My little diamond. I remember my year. I won the season, you know.”

“I’m not the diamond. No one is, yet.”

“Yes, but Lady Whistledown predicted it might be you, so…”

“And last week she reprimanded me for my rakish habits. So…”

Noelle laughed. “God, you’re so difficult. I wonder how anyone puts up with you.”

Logan didn’t reply, just studied his own eyes in the mirror. It was something that worried him too much to have anything to say about.

“Finished, my Lord,” Mr. Bell said, and Logan shrugged out of the white jacket with relief. If he had to stare at himself for another second…

“Thank you,” Logan said, especially gentle. God, you’re so difficult. Noelle rose too as Logan retrieved his jacket and hat. He glanced back at her as they left the shop, bell tinkling above the door. “What, are you following me?”

“No,” Noelle said, stepping out into the summer air beside him. “But that’s not to say mother didn’t tell me over breakfast this morning that she’s worried you’ll bolt before the ball tonight.”

Logan tipped his hat to a few passing girls, shopping for ribbons, who giggled and stared at him as they passed—just to make Noelle roll her eyes. Which she did.

“I’m still deciding where to run away to,” Logan replied, then offered his sister his arm.

“Well, don’t.” Noelle took it and squeezed. “Don’t tell Sydney or Audrey, but you’re my favorite brother.”

“I’m your only brother.”

“Just my favorite, then.”

The Tremblay’s town house was one of the grandest on the street, though Logan missed the manor. The countryside offered more places to secret one’s self away. And for how flamboyant Lady Whistledown made Logan out to be, there was really very little he enjoyed more than privacy. Privacy that included select…acquaintances.

“Welcome back, Lord and Lady Tremblay,” said one of the butlers upon their arrival, and Logan and Noelle nodded their thanks.

“It always makes us sound—” Noelle began.

“As though we’re married?” Logan offered, and they laughed as they relieved themselves of their coats.

“Well,” Noelle said as they walked further into the house. “I’m going to see if anyone’s up for a game of cards. Care for it?”

“Uh, no.” Logan was already looking in the direction of the door that lead to the servant’s staircase. “No, I’m—hungry. I’m going to see if the kitchen has anything they’d be willing to part with before tea.”

“Logan.”

At the tone of her voice, Logan looked at her. “Noelle.”

“Don’t,” Noelle said quietly. Standing there, she looked just as he remembered her looking, always. Even when he had been a little boy. Brown hair pinned loosely at the back of her neck. The green eyes that they shared, soft, always soft with him. “Don’t. Not today.”

“What?” Logan replied, more harshly. “I’m not doing anything.”

“That’s not true.”

“It’s none of your business. None of your business at all, what I do.”

“I’m not saying it for you, I’m saying it for him.” She nodded towards the stairs. “It isn’t fair of you. Especially today. Everyone knows what the ceremony is like at the ball, and everyone knows what it means. Even the servants.”

“Oh? And what exactly does it mean?”

“Marriage,” Noelle said. “Eventually, to some Lord or Lady. Not a kitchen boy. You know this. So don’t. Don’t go see him. It’s cruel.”

Logan took a step forward. “And what if I want to marry him?”

“That’s ridiculous.” Noelle sighed. “I wish it wasn’t, but it is. He works in the kitchen, Lo. You really expect—”

She cut off as a maid came through. Logan didn’t know why. They heard everything anyway. But Logan used the silence to escape. He didn’t look at her as he held the door to the servant’s stairs open for the maid (Oh, goodness, thank you, my Lord) and then went through himself.

He could hear the kitchens before he saw them. The clank of pots, the cooks shouting instructions to each other. Chopping and sizzling and laughter. He was greeted with curtsies and bows by the few servants he passed as he walked down the corridor, and he stopped just beyond those within the kitchen’s view, just outside the doorway. He liked, at first, to be able to peer in and see what they all were up to.

He liked to see what Finn was up to.

They were preparing sandwiches for tea, and Finn was making the others laughed as they passed the ingredients around to be assembled. Logan smiled to himself as he watched, taking Finn in. His red hair was fluffed up from the heat of the stoves and ovens, and he had the sleeves of his shirt rolled up to his elbows, apron tied neatly around his waist.

Logan looked forward to this moment every day. He loved how, if he stood there for long enough, eyes on Finn, Finn would eventually look up and meet his gaze. As if he could feel Logan standing there. Now, while holding butter and and a piece of bread, his eyes flicked up and found Logan’s instantly. Logan grinned and strode in.

“Oh, well,” said the head chef, Mrs. Hawkaway, with a warm smile. “Stars, I swore I just fed you breakfast, my Lord.”

Logan had been mockingly scolded by that Scottish accent for his entire life. He liked that they were all used to him visiting the kitchen and talking with them. He’d been doing it long before Finn had arrived. It made it easier to see him and avoided the suspicious looks as to why exactly he fancied the downstairs so much, so suddenly.

“And it was lovely, Mrs. Hawk,” Logan said, going over to kiss her cheek. “But don’t you know how hungry town makes a man?”

“Well, I’m sure,” Mrs. Hawk patted his cheek fondly. “But, as you can see, tea will be served in hardly a half hour.”

“Oh, yes, I see now,” Logan said. He didn’t look at Finn as he made his way over to the work table that he and the others were gathered around. He did, however, come to a stop at Finn’s shoulder. He could all but feel him fighting a smile as he set aside another perfectly made sandwich.

“Might I steal one?” Logan asked no one in particular.

“My Lord,” Finn said, and gestured to what he knew was Logan’s favorite. Ham and mustard. “Please.”

“And are you pleased by the ball tonight, my Lord?” Mrs. Hawk asked. “We’re all very thrilled for you downstairs. What a chance, to be presented before the Queen.”

“Ah,” Logan shrugged as he chewed, still walking around, still catching Finn’s eye every once in a while. “It all feels like lots of fuss, and you know me. I’d rather be…” Logan trailed off.

This was another problem he had with himself. He wasn’t the eldest, so he didn’t have the same…purpose, he supposed. Not like Noelle did. And his other sisters had found what they wanted from life. They had passions. They filled their days. They did so much more than just stand to inherit. So far, all he’d figured out was that he was very good at walking away the days. He looked at Finn who, like the others, was waiting patiently for him to finish.

And apparently very good and wanting things he couldn’t have.

“Well,” Logan tried to smile. “I’d rather be doing something else. Who knows what.”

There were a few sniggers, which Mrs. Hawk hushed. But Logan was used to that. Of course they found it ridiculous, these people who worked hard for their lives, that he had so much and yet—not much of anything.

“I’m sure,” Finn spoke suddenly. “That my Lord is fit for a great many things.”

There was no humor in Finn’s eyes. Only kindness, and maybe some sympathy. Finn had, after all, heard Logan talk about this many times. An aimless arrow.

“Thank you, Finn,” Logan said softly. He let himself look at him for another moment, then took a breath and gave his brightest smile to the room. “Well. Thank you for the pre-tea tea. I’ll be…” He looked at Finn again as he gazed around the room. “Off now.”

It was a well-worn routine of theirs by now. They had five different directions Logan might walk—many different gardens, many different corridors, that one library that no one seemed to remember anything about. Today was the library—Finn’s favorite.

And yet, as Logan arrived among the books, walked lap after lap without seeing any of the shelves, Finn wasn’t there yet. Logan had learned very quickly that Finn adored reading—it had really been the first thing Logan had learned. He’d ordered tea to this library, and of course no one really knew about it and so Finn, sent up to bring the tea to him, had gotten confused, and then lost, before finally arriving with cold tea and soggy sandwiches. He’d proceeded to just stand there in the doorway, gazing around—and giving Logan quite the look at him, too.

And Logan had made some snobbish comment suggesting Finn couldn’t read, and Finn had corrected him by reciting a bit of Shakespeare calling him a great deal of colorful insults and, well…Logan had fallen just a little bit in love.

Finally, footsteps, fast, nearly running. The door opening, Finn blowing through, out of breath.

“Sorry,” he whisper-shouted. “Sorry, sorry.” He shut the door, turned the lock.

Logan made a show of drawing his time piece out of his waistcoat.

Finn just laughed. “Thought we were on the Rose gallery. Lost track, they’ve got us running around the clock with the start of the season and everything. And we haven’t seen each other for a few days, have we? So looks like you’re running around, too.”

“I don’t run,” Logan said with a smirk.

“Oh, of course, God forbid a Lord runs,” Finn said, then grinned. “Anyway…Hello, diamond.”

Logan rolled his eyes. He made to turn away, mockingly of course, and only so Finn would take his hand and reel him back in—no one ever touched him like that. And Finn’s hands were rough from work, calloused and firm against his own skin. It made Logan want to…God, what to name first?

“I’m only joking,” Finn said. “How are you?”

Logan just hummed and leaned up to kiss him. “Better now.”

“Hm?” Finn kissed him again, then his cheek. “And what have you been up to, lover?”

“Fittings. Ugh.” Logan closed his eyes, pressing his face into Finn’s neck.

“Poor baby.”

Logan smacked at his lower back but just held tighter. Finn did the same.

“You have tea,” Finn said. “Your family is waiting, it’s all been sent up.”

“Well, you were late, so now I’ll be late, too.” Logan leaned back to press another hard kiss to his mouth. “Fuck tea.”

“Hey,” Finn laughed. “I worked hard on those sandwiches. Made the cake, too.”

“I’d prefer your cake, if you don’t mind.” Logan enjoyed Finn’s laugh, filling the space between them. “No, really, though,” Logan said, and kissed him again. “Come for walk with me?”

Finn’s smile dimmed. He sucked a breath in and cupped Logan’s cheek in his hand, then shook his head. “We shouldn’t, Lo. I want to, but we shouldn’t.”

Logan leaned into his palm. “Why not? We always go for walks.”

“I know,” Finn said softly. “I just meant not today.”

Logan straightened, heart sinking. He thought about what Noelle had said. “Finn…”

“It’s all right,” Finn said. “Really—”

“What did my sister say to you?” Logan asked. “What did she say?”

“What?” Finn asked, eyes going confused. “Nothing.”

“Fuck the ball,” Logan said more fiercely. “I won’t go.”

“You have to go,” Finn raised his eyebrows. “It’s the Queen’s ball. You’re being presented, Lo.”

Logan just rolled his eyes. “It’s feathers and—and champagne and—it’s nothing, Finn, come on. Some people care about these things, sure, but—”

“Logan,” Finn said. “Lo.” He took Logan’s hands in his own, keeping him in place. Logan could only stare at the way Finn’s thumbs rubbed gently over his knuckles. He looked so conflicted, brown eyes sad. “You…you have to care.”

Logan had been dreading this, even though they both had known it was coming. They both knew the realities but somehow, away from it all, they had managed to ignore it for a long while. Taking walks through the woods as though they were exactly the same, equal to each other. Kissing by streams as if nothing could touch them, staying up late beneath the stars to learn each other, through and through.

Finn seemed to be having similar thoughts. He brought up one of Logan’s knuckles to his lips. “Look, I…I don’t have it in me to tell you we can’t see each other anymore. I know that’s how this is supposed to go.”

Logan shook his head, almost frantically, but Finn just squeezed his hands.

“I know that—one of us is suppose to tell the other that we can’t give each other the kind of life we deserve. But I can’t do that. I can’t get those words out, I’ll never be able to. Because I’m selfish and because I—”

“I won’t go tonight,” Logan said. “I won’t.”

“It’s not about the ball,” Finn said, almost pleadingly. “Lo, you’re…” His smile was sad, resigned. “You’re going to marry. You are, that’s the life you were born into, and this, this is the life I was born into, and so it’s not going to be to me.” Finn’s words stuttered out at the end, as if he had to force them. “The ball is just tonight. I’m talking about a lot longer than that.”

Logan didn’t want to hear it. He wasn’t ready to hear it. He surged forward and wrapped his arms around Finn’s neck. “Just come for a walk with me.” He pressed their cheeks together. “Just—please, we’ll figure something out.”

“Where will we go?” Finn asked. “This isn’t the country, there’s no woods to hide ourselves away in, and we can’t just walk down the street.”

“Then I’ll sneak you upstairs.”

“Logan, no. You know that’s not a good idea.”

Logan made a frustrated sound, turned his nose into Finn’s neck again. He didn’t care what was at stake anymore. He didn’t care, he wanted this. He wanted Finn’s smiles, and the way he had taught Logan how to scramble an egg, how to make tea—laughing at him all the while for knowing so little. Tea? You don’t know how to make tea?

“Lo, you know you have to go tonight.”

Logan just squeezed his eyes shut. “I know. I know but why—why couldn’t we be…if everything was different…”

“I know,” Finn said softly. “If we could just live in here with books, and soggy sandwiches…and each other.”

“Yeah,” Logan whispered. “Yeah, I would.”

“Go the ball tonight.” Finn kissed his cheek and pulled back. “Then come home and tell me everything. I can see when carriages arrive from my room, and I’ll wait for you at the back entrance. All right? I won’t be late this time.”

Logan nodded slowly, and let Finn cup his chin gently in his hand and kiss him.

“All right?” Finn murmured against his lips, and then began to pepper his cheeks and chin with more kisses until Logan couldn’t help but smile. “Okay.” Finn smiled back, though neither of theirs quite reached their eyes. “Okay.”

Finn began to turn away, and he made it four steps towards the door before he turned back, just as Logan pushed forward and said wait.

Just one more kiss. It wasn’t nearly as playful. It was hard and Finn’s arms around him were tight and needy.

“Make sure you’re wearing that white suit,” Finn said against his mouth.

“It’s ugly,” Logan said, and took Finn’s bottom lip between his teeth.

“Not on the floor, I’d guess.” Finn took Logan’s face between his hands and kissed him hard, once more. “Gotta get back to work. And you have to get back to, you know.” Finn reached down and tapped Logan’s arse through his trousers. “Whatever it is you do all day.”

Logan just laughed, sounding love-struck even to his own ears, and gave him a push. “Go on. Don’t be late.”

Finn made a cross over his heart, pressed a kiss to his fingers and held them out towards Logan, then disappeared through the door.

#12 days of winterfic 2022 lumosinlove #Bridgeton au #o'knutzy #Logan tremblay #finn o'hara #Leo knut

[fandomdumpsterfires]

(I couldn't sleep last night so i wrote this.

Warning: gets very gay, sappy and a little spicey. I am cringe but i am free)

It was all gone in a flash.

Audrey, the ink demon, the keepers..everything. the cycle had been respun, erasing wilson's hold on joey's world inside the ink machine.

But, even the end couldn't erase his feelings.

Henry stood in that familiar entrance hall, old ink stained cartoon posters on either side. The first of many floors was deffinately worse for ware than the last time he saw it, and yet it was all the same.

"Norman?" His voice echoed faintly. His only response was the quietly dripping ink from the leaking pipes. C'mon, he had to be here. He couldn't be all the way back down in level fourteen, he had to be..

Henry didn't care about turning on the ink machine. All he wanted was some sign that the projectionist was here, something to let him know that he was alive.

Room to room, corridor to corridor, he looked. Nothing. He was beginning to lose hope..

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Three small, delicate taps on old wood. Hesitantly, he replied to it.

Tap tap tap

...

Tap. Tap. Tap.

'I. Love. You.'

He recognized that gesture. Norman couldn't speak as the inky projector creature he had been turned into, so they resorted to communication through sign language and gestures. Eventually, norman even found a way to express his love to the artist, just three gentle taps on the chest or shoulder.

'I. Love. You.'

The taps sounded off again. It was closer this time. Henry kept following the sounds, finding out that they lead into the break room. Rushing down the stairs, henry stood in the center, looking around frantically.

Nothing.

His shoulders dropped as he sighed in deffeat. He was just hearing things, the ink must be playing tricks on his mind..

'I. Love. You.'

The taps came from his shoulder. Glancing over, he saw a hand with four fingers that tapered into claws, another appearing on his other. There was a familiar gurgling purr from behind, henry whipping around and engulfing norman in a hug.

"I thought you were back in level fourteen!!" The artist cried. Norman perched his chin on top of the other man's head, gently stroking his back.

"The cycle didn't wanna seperate us again, i guess."

Henry froze. Did norman..?

He stepped back, looking up at the projectionist. Astonished "d-did you...?"

Bringing both clawed hands up to his projector and pushing it up, norman revealed a human face underneath. Despite the ink drenched hair and long fangs lining his mouth. It was unmistakably him "just a little somethin' the new cycle lord gave me." He smiled warmly. It was nothing like bendy's smile. Norman's was gentle and sweet, just like it had been all those years ago.

A short sob lept from henry's throat, which immediately caught norman's attention.

"H-henry? What's wrong??" He asked, confused.

Henry chuckled, hastily whiping tears out of his eyes "nothing.." he sniffled "i just..missed your voice. S-so much. Never thought i'd ever here it again outside of the voice recordings.."

Norman's worry melted away in an instant. He approached, gingerly taking both of the artist's hands into his own. The size difference was very notable.

"Henry. I've wanted to say this to you, for..a very long time now.." he began, tail twitching. A faint yellow hue rose to his face. C'mon..he had thought about this for years. If then wasn't the time to say it, then right now deffinately was.

"I..." he paused again, taking in a deep breath "i-i love you. A lot. Those old visits to my booth back in the day..they meant a lot to me..and going back up there after you quit..it felt so. So lonly without you.." He went on, swallowing back his body's sudden urge to cry "you mean a lot to me, too. Your drawings would always set me in a good mood no matter what..i even still have one of them at my desk. I think so, anyways..." his memory was fuzzy. All he remembered was henry gifting him a drawing, but that was just enough.

The projectionist inched closer, hands trailing away from henry's hands down to his elbows, having to crouch a little to get at proper eye level with him. They locked eyes. Brown staring into gold, so entranced that neither noticed how they got even closer.

"..you mean a lot to me too, norman." Henry began "every single time joey got on my nerves, you listened to my rants, helped my blow off steam.." his eyelids drooped a little, grimacing "..i should've gotten you to leave with me.." there was a pang of guilt through his heart. Norman tilted the other's head up with one finger, smiling "ink monster or not..i'm glad we could spend so much time togrther." He leaned in closer, his own eyes beginning to close.

"..yeah, me too." Henry replied. Their eyes closed, and the two finally locked lips.

They held the kiss for as long as they could, pulling away once air was needed, immediately going in for another one. Each kiss more passionate and love filled than the last. Henry moaned in bliss as his and norman's tongues met. He didn't here if it was made of ink, he just focused on winning this battle for domination. Of course, norman was victorious. As the two pulled away, a thin string of inky saliva hung between their mouths. They panted. Norman licking his mouth his his slender, snake-like tongue.

Henry could feel the projectionist's warm breath against his face, eyes still half-lided. Norman grabbed for a nearby chair and sat down, pulling henry into his lap.

"I've waited thirty whole years for this..." norman said, still out of breath. Henry gave a small nod "met too..." he replied. A sudden shiver ran up his spine, norman's tail was snaking its way around his waist, bringing him in closer.

At first, he thought norman was going in for another kiss. However, instead he went lower, going for the neck, warm exhales against sensative skin sending another wave of shivers up the artist's spine. Gentle little pecks were planted all around henry's neck, causing him to giggle a bunch. Norman grinned against the other's skin, just taking a moment to relish in the other's joy and the surrounding peace.

"Hey..." henry said, looking down at the projectionist "hm?" Norman hummed "you still remember how to dance?" Henry asked. Norman sat up straight (something he clearly wasn't) and thought for a moment "..sorta, i'm deffinately rusty..." he replied. Henry grinned "want me to teach ya again?" He offered.

Norman smiled back "yeah. That would be nice."

After a nice journey down to the music department, the two met up with an old friend. And with sammy directing a band of searchers and lost ones to play a gentle, melodic tune, the artist and projectionist slow danced under projector light.

Sure, sammy had to admit that their footwork was a bit sloppy, yet didn't want to ruin their fun. If they were happy, he was happy.

#batim #bendy and the ink machine #batdr #bendy and the dark revival #norman polk #henry stein #sammy lawrence #henry x norman #normry #moving pictures #*implodes from fluff overload*

[thebluestbluewords]

I’ve been working through some stuff. Some of that is through fic. Content Warning for food issues, implied body issues, bad parenting (not the usual flavor of bad dcom parenting, but the kind where parents care too much and don’t know the sort of pressure they’re putting on the kids)

* “My mom,” Mal says slowly, running her fingers through the thick fur at the base of the dog’s neck. “Never used food as a punishment for me. We didn’t always have enough, because it’s the isle and nobody ever had enough, but she didn’t actively punish me by withholding what we did have.”

Ben pats the dog’s head. Her name is Genny, and she’s a good dog, and she deserves the extra love today for being so accommodating of his girlfriend’s weirdness. “Yeah?” 

“My mom was one of the better adults,” Mal says, like that explains anything. It sort of does, but Ben would rather not have to fill in the gaps between what Mal’s telling him and their current issue, which is that neither of the boys are willing to come to dinner. “Evie’s mom never withhold food as a punishment, she was just sorta insane about diets in general. It was shitty when she wouldn’t let Evie eat, but it wasn’t personal, y’know?” 

Ben wishes that he didn’t know, that he didn’t intimately understand the pressures of having a parent who’s just weird about public appearances as they relate to everything in the entire world, down to the body he lives in and the ways that he’s allowed to eat. It would be easier if he didn’t know, but he’s been under the scrutiny of cameras since he was a kid. In some ways it’s been easier for him than it probably was for Evie, because he’s a boy, and because he’s always been athletic and sort of vaguely good looking, but there’s still speculation around his body every time there’s some dramatic change. It’d been awkward going through his first growth spurt, the one where he’d grown taller without getting any broader, and Audrey, who had been going through the opposite with her own growth spurts, cried for days when a particularly despicable gossip rag compared them and suggested that maybe her love of sweets was to blame for their different body types. 

“I get it,” Ben says softly, focusing on a very soft spot on Genny’s nose that needs a lot of careful attention.“Audrey suffered a lot with some of the diets her grandma wanted her to follow. It’s not personal because of something they did, but—“ 

“It’s personal because their bodies aren’t enough?” Mal’s voice is sharp, but her hands are still soft and gentle on Genny’s fur. She’s not one to worry much about her own appearance, but maybe that’s a choice she makes, rather than an inherent disinterest. Ben wouldn’t know. He’s always been uncomfortably aware of how he appears to others. His body has never been under the same level of scrutiny that girls seem to go through, but he’s had his every word and movement analyzed for any hint of unkindness or violence or insincerity, and it’s difficult to set the fear of judgement aside when it comes to his body as well as his words. 

He shrugs. There’s only so much room for freaking out right now, and it seems like Mal needs the space more than he does. “Something like that.” 

“Yeah,” Mal scoffs. “Well. Evie’s mom did a lot of the dieting stuff with her, which was stupid really, because nobody had enough food to go around back on the rock. It was basically suicidal not to eat when you had the chance. She almost died once cause her mom wouldn’t keep any bread or carbs in the house.” 

Evie loves the soft rolls they have at dinner sometimes. She won’t ever admit it out loud but they’ve all seen the way she lingers over the occasional doughnuts they get at breakfast on the weekends. It’s odd to think of Evie as lacking anything, but a healthy relationship with food is a pretty easy thing to lose, apparently. 

“Evie’s not—“ Ben stutters, unsure of the right thing to say. He’s allowed to stutter over his words with Mal. She’s never once laughed at him for it, or used his pauses to push him into a rushed decision that he’s not ready to make. “Her mother was wrong. She doesn’t need to diet.”

It’s not quite what he meant to say, but hopefully the intent comes through anyway. 

Mal sighs. Oops. Maybe those weren’t quite the right words after all. “No. She doesn’t. And I don’t know what kind of fool thoughts went through her mother’s head that made her think that, I just know that she sometimes starved. It’s not personal, so I guess that’s the impact of only valuing girls for their looks, or something.  She never meant it to hurt Evie, so it’s e—“ Mal catches herself on the start of an EEEE sound, chokes on the word, and coughs instead. “It’s different.” 

Ben’s pretty sure he knows what she was going to say. “Not easier?” 

Mal’s cheeks flush bright pink, and she ducks her head away info her own shoulder. “Sometimes. Maybe. But it mostly just sucks in a different way.” 

“Yeah,” Ben agrees softly, reaching up to pat right next to where Mal’s hand is still buried in the dog’s ruff. “It does.” 

“Mom never did that to me.” Mal says abruptly. 

Oh.

Oh shit. 

Mal doesn’t talk about Maleficent. She doesn’t acknowledge the fact that she has  a mother most of the time, and given the choice, Ben is positive that she’d rather go about her entire life as though she’s been spontaneously created by the universe to fill a void where the idea of a fairy should go. In the months that they’ve been dating, Mal has brought up her mother few enough times that Ben could count them on his fingers, so it’s not exactly an insignificant thing that she’s mentioning her here. 

“It’s—“ Mal stutters, her small hand going tight and stiff next to Ben’s. Her voice is smaller than usual. “I didn’t have problems. I ate whatever I could get. I’m the normal one here. Normal-er, I guess.” 

“Yeah, you’re doing a really great job at being normal,” Ben agrees amicably, even though his heart is beating double-quick and he’s pretty sure he’s blushing. “Crushing it even. The whole thing where we’re hiding outside with the dogs is really cementing it for me, you’re super normal and the others are the only ones I’m worried about.” 

Mal hits him. Not hard, but she’s got a solid punch even when it’s just a tap. “Shut up,” she snaps, voice tighter than it should be. “I’m the most normal about food, and you know it.” 

“Yeah, the others are really weird.” 

“They are.” Mal says firmly, eyes flashing.  “And I know why they won’t come down and make nice with your family. Jay’s dad used food as a punishment, so he’s got some sort of weird self-worth complex about eating when he hasn’t earned it, and Carlos was always forced to be a servant in his mother’s house, so sitting in the formal dining room with the adults freaks him out. Jay’s thing is probably weirder, and I don’t know how to get him to stop and it’s actually really scary but I’ve been pretending it’s fine for so long that I don’t know how to stop at this point. And like, he doesn’t want me telling you about it,” she finishes, cheeks flushing bright purple-red. “So please don’t tell them how you know.” 

#my fic #descendants #descendants fic #ben descendants #mal bertha #food issues tw #soon I’ll write happy fluffy fic again #but not yet!!! #right now we’re still in the angsty hurt and hurt and hurt and maybe eventually comfort mines #body issues tw

[hekateinhell]

Some soft Lestat/Armand thoughts for your comfort (and mine)

I need Lestat to actually polish Armand with kisses and clean him up and comb his hair.

Some evening, around 2am, Lestat is in a hotel room when he senses Armand is near. Armand is feeling down lately, and he is just wandering aimlessly around the city in the rain. Lestat goes out, surprises Armand in some dark alley and Armand sees Lestat coming through his blurry vision, blood tears silently falling down his cold cheeks.

Armand doesn’t say much, he just lets himself be guided by Lestat’s firm hand on his waist into the hotel and into the absurdly expensive hotel room (because it’s Lestat, our boy needs his expensive fabrics and materialistic nonsense)

Armand’s hair is soaking wet from the rain, his clothes are rags, and his hands are ice cold, so he welcomes the warmth of the hotel room. Without speaking Lestat fills the bathtub, and carefully removes Armand’s clothing. Armand is silent as he let Lestat’s hands guide him to the bathtub. The tv in front of the bed is still on, and Armand can hear an old movie playing in the background; Audrey Hepburn’s Breakfast at Tiffany’s he recognizes.

Lestat carefully kneels next to the bathtub and begins to wash Armand, first his hands, arms and his shoulders.

Armand doesn’t really need this of course, dirt doesn’t cling to his skin, but tonight just the mortal comfort of a hot bath and a loving touch was all he needed. He’s been so lonely lately. Lestat gets a cup from the kitchen and uses this to slowly and carefully wash Armand’s hair and rinse the water.

Should Armand be ashamed of the way he lets himself be treated? Like he is some infant who needs to be washed by an adult? These thoughts come vaguely into his mind, but no, Armand had been so sad lately. At some point tonight he feared he might actually sink so deep within his despair that he would revisit old memories, and once that box opens he is far from being saved for some time. This might’ve happened, if Lestat hadn’t come tonight.

Lestat might’ve heard these thoughts because now he kisses the top of Armand’s curly head, he kisses his forehead and the tip of his nose and both his chubby cheeks.

It was weird, Armand thought, how Lestat could sometimes be exactly what someone needed despite his gigantic ego and his tendency to always make the dumbest decisions possible.

Lestat definitely did hear these thoughts because now he snorts a laugh.

“I have my moments” Lestat says as he turns to grab a giant fuzzy white bath towel from the hanger by the door.

Armand smiles to himself, he had missed Lestat. Missed his voice and his lions mane of golden hair and the way you could see how powerfully muscular his thighs were in those tight leather jeans. Lestat laughs again as he spreads the white towel in his arms and beckons Armand to come to him.

Later they lay on the big soft bed together. Lestat’s arms are tightly around Armand as they watch the tv. Lestat had given him some of his clothes and Armand had been vaguely embarrassed by the way he needed to roll the sleeves two times because they were too long for him. They had sat on the bed, and Lestat had combed Armand’s hair, so painfully gentle and loving that Armand had almost teared up again. Lestat had said that he liked to do this, when Armand had asked. “You are good to embrace, good to love.”

Armand wants to thank Lestat but somehow he can’t form the words without his eyes filling with tears again.

Lestat tightens his arms and polishes the top of his head with kisses.

“My coffin isn’t far from here, you can sleep with me if you want.” Lestat says softly

Armand nods.

“And tomorrow night we can go anywhere you want. I was going to meet Louis- you could come. He would love to see you.”

“Thank you” Armand says, smiling softly, as his eyes slowly fall into a mortal sleep.

—————

First I felt like it isn’t in Lestat’s character to be so quiet because our boy can never shut his big mouth, but I feel Lestat can be incredibly caring on some occasions. This actually turned out way sadder than I wanted it to be, sorry. But don’t feel bad, after this they go to Louis and the three of them go to Berlin and they go clubbing in this weird nightclub and Louis hates it but Armand and Lestat are having a great time with all those alternative intoxicated weirdo mortals who wanna dance with them. And the night after that they break into the Rijksmuseum in Amsterdam and go look at paintings together because that’s what Louis wanted and they promised him they would go because Louis hated that nightclub so much. And Armand and Lestat offer to steal this Greek vase for Louis, because he loves it. And Louis almost smacks the back of both of their heads in his irritation. “Mon dieu, if you two don’t put that accursed vase down again I am leaving immediately! That thing is 2 thousand years old, if you two don’t get your greasy hands off it right now-“ and Armand is rolling his eyes but Lestat’s dumbass be like “My hands are never greasy, Louis. Louis, wait! Our hands aren’t greasy, come back!” Something like that.

SOBBING

please write the fic, the whole thing from when Lestat goes out and finds Armand to when Louis almost smacks the two of them LMAO

you don't understand the chokehold those few lines in MtD have on me! I can't believe Lestat literally told Armand he wanted to polish him with kisses, that he's 'good to embrace and good to love', and people still try and say Lestat doesn't love him! IT'S SO GOOD AND IT'S RIGHT THERE ON THE PAGE IT MAKES ME FERAL

Lestat can absolutely be incredibly caring! I just said in another answer to an ask that I think Armand felt the same tenderness for Louis that Lestat did, but I also think that Lestat feels a similar tenderness for Armand. There's so many instances in canon from start to finish where Lestat's been so gentle and forgiving with Armand, you could even say Lestat felt a measure of responsibility for him.

And Armand is so vulnerable around him in a very unique way because like- it's Lestat! They've already seen each other at their worst more than once pretty early on, what else is left? It's all very sweet and so precious to me!! 😭

#this made me extra soft and i was already pretty soft to begin with thank you ♥️ #vc #you ask and hekate answers #armand/lestat #armand/lestat/louis

[lgg5989]

Church Encounters Chapter 16 Part 1

Hey guys! Thanks to everyone for your continued support of this fic, @barbiewritesstuff and I are having a great time writing it. She is posting this on her tumblr as well so jump over and give her a like or a comment. We have had a few requests for side drabbles and stuff about these characters and we will be happy to answer them! Just send us asks :)

You can find the previous chapters on my Masterlist, and you can read the whole series so far on my Ao3! I made the moodboard, I hope you enjoy it! :D

We waffled on in this one...its a whole 11k words...hope you enjoy it! We do also want to let people know that our lives are getting a little busier and our updates might not be out as steadily as they have been up to this point. Thank you for the support and for your patience while we find a new groove :D

Comment on my post or @barbiewritesstuff’s post to be added to the tag list.

PS. If Glen is reading this, do you like it so far?

Tagging: @roosterscock  @sydneyhlove​

“Ladies and gentlemen, welcome onboard Flight 6TG with service from JFK to Rome, Italy. We are currently second in line for take-off and are expected to be in the air in approximately five minutes time. We ask that you please fasten your seatbelts at this time and secure all baggage underneath your seat or in the overhead compartments. We also ask that your seats and table trays are in the upright position for take-off. Please turn off all personal electronic devices, including laptops and cell phones. Smoking is prohibited for the duration of the flight. Thank you for choosing Delta Airlines. Enjoy your flight.” The pilot announced through the comms. 

“Jake,” you whimpered,”I have to -- err -- I have to admit something,” you stuttered out. 

Jake had been leafing through his book, trying to find the page he had lost upon landing in New York. He had tried finding it during the wait for the flight to Italy but the book was nearing a thousand pages and he could only remember the word ‘caravan’, you privately thought he’d still be looking by the time you were due to land in almost nine hours. 

Hearing the tone of your voice made him look up with worried eyes, “Everything okay, darlin’”

“It’s just that -- erm --” you hesitated, “It’s just that I’m afraid of flying,” you finally spat out.

Jake looked at you and burst out laughing, “Sure you are,” he replied.

His laugh quietened down when he saw you were serious. His eyes swept over your face, taking in your fearful eyes, paled skin and moist skin.

“Oh, you’re not joking,” he said, “I don’t get it.”

“It’s a large metal can hurtling through the air, Jake,” you squeaked out, Jake opened his mouth to speak. You knew what he was about to tell you, it was the same thing Cyclone said, and Annie or Audrey whenever you took a plane. 

You weren’t sure why it scared you so much but it wasn’t just flying. Standing on a stool, or going up stairs and looking down had the same effect and when, at the academy, they had made you walk a catwalk, you had to be taken to the medbay after a panic attack and a fainting spell. 

But when you sat in the backseat of an F18, it didn’t feel the same. Even though the speeds were higher and crashes deadlier, the fact that you had some control over the aircraft seemed to make all fear dissipate.

“I don’t like it as a passenger,” is all you could reply to Jake’s silent question.

He considered your response for a minute, “Okaaaay,” he said, “I guess that’s fair?” 

You squeezed as close as you could to him in your seat, your hand reaching out to take his, “I’m just going to borrow this for a moment,” you said, trying to lighten the mood with some humour as you sat anxiously waiting for the plane to start down the runway. Your back was still, Jake’s hand held tightly in yours, and your eyes staring straight forward to the front of the plane.

Jake put his book on his knee and took your hand, placing a gentle kiss on your knuckles, “Its going to be alright darlin’.” 

You nodded, “I know but that doesn’t help the anxiety, unfortunately.” 

Jake put his mouth right next to your ear, he started humming a song. You weren’t sure what song at first, but then you recognized it as A Nightingale Sang In Berkeley Square. Closing your eyes, you tried to relax into the deep rumble coming from his chest, but it just wouldn't work. 

When the plane started to taxi from the gate, your grip on Jake’s hand got tighter than before. He pressed a kiss to the side of your head, whispering to you, “It’s going to be alright, darlin’. I’m right here, I’ve gotcha.” 

During take-off, you were pretty sure that you crushed Jake’s hand. Hopefully there wouldn’t be any lasting damage. 

Once the plane was in the air you felt slightly more comfortable but you still hadn’t released his hand. Jake didn’t complain though. He had resumed the search for the lost page in his book. 

The flight was fairly uneventful, and you couldn’t have been more grateful. By the end however, if the flight itself wasn’t already grinding on your nerves, the baby that had been crying for the last hour was. 

You thanked God above when the stewardess came over the intercom system, “Ladies and gentlemen, we will be landing in Rome shortly. If you have a connecting flight please be sure to check that it is still on time. The stewardesses are coming around now to collect any trash. Please stow all try tables and unsecured items for landing, thank you for flying Delta Airlines.” 

You looked at Jake enviously, you had booked a late flight out of the US to ensure that you arrived in Rome during the late morning. You had been planning on sleeping during the flight, but with your anxiety about flying you hadn’t caught any shut eye. Jake had snored practically the whole flight, only waking when you elbowed him because the old lady across the aisle was shooting him dirty looks for disturbing her knitting. 

Once the flight had landed, you deboarded the plane and made your way through customs. After checking your Visa and the card you had filled in on board to the border control officer, they let you through to baggage claim. As you had been one of the last ones to check in in Annapolis, you guessed your suitcases would arrive last on the conveyor belt. You were right, thirty minutes after passing through customs, you finally spotted your luggage coming onto the belt. 

Jake grabbed it for the both of you and the two of you made your way out of the airport and into a taxi. The ride was nice, but you and Jake were both ready to stretch your legs after the long flight. Jake helped you out of the taxi when you got to the hotel a quiet, “My lady,” falling from his lips as he held a hand out to you. 

You laughed at his antics as the two of you made your way into the hotel, Jake checking in using his fluent italian 

You had taken care of the wedding and booked, made and decorated most of the event but he had insisted you let him take care of the honeymoon. The Hotel, therefore, had been a complete surprise. You knew Jake would spring for something a little nicer, but the Bio Hotel Raphael exceeded all expectations.

The entrance had been beautiful, with the luscious green vines climbing up the front of the building and fighting for wall space with other greenery, but once you had walked into the lobby your breath caught as you took everything in. The receptionist handed Jake the keys as you ran your finger over the detailed carving of the large oak front desk, he led you to the lifts, squeezing your hand as the box left the ground floor and stifling a laugh when it stopped rather harshly and you squeezed your eyes shut and gasped.

Jake unlocked the hotel’s door. He pushed it open and bowed, “Mrs Seresin,” he said, letting you pass first.

“Not sure I’ll ever get used to that,” you said, turning around to look back at him, “Not sure I want to, though, I like the butterflies,” 

He grabbed you by the waist, pulling you as close to him as he could and capturing your lips in his. He broke the kiss a few moments later, moving his head to rest right next to your ear, “If those butterflies ever go, tell me. I’d be more than happy to put something else in there instead,” he whispered, letting you go with a laugh.

“You’re a pig, Mr. Seresin,” you joked,

Jake hummed, “I see what you mean about the butterflies,” he said, grabbing you again, “And you didn’t seem to mind me being a pig back in Annapolis… I seem to remember you liking it very much.”

“Jake! At least keep your voice down, the door is still open,” you laughed,

“And,” Jake said, flipping you around in his arms. Moving one arm to rest by your waist he pressed your hips into his own and added, “you haven’t even seen the room yet.”

Your breath caught in your lungs as you took in the room. As you stepped out of the entryway, removing your shoes so as to not mark the beautiful hardwood floors, you came face to face with a gorgeous antique desk, decorated with a magnifying glass, a leatherbound book of Rome’s history and a beautiful lamp. You ran your hand against the cool wooden surface briefly before turning towards the rest of the room. 

Jake was already lying on the bed, having removed his shoes and unbuttoned the top of his shirt and unbuckled his belt. He had sunk into the mattress of the King sized bed and laid there with his eyes closed, a peaceful expression etched on his face.

You marvelled at the quaint living room, two elegant blue chairs sat opposite of each other across a dark oak coffee table, an expresso love seat took up the space between them. Taking off the light jacket you had worn on the plane and in the airport, you moved to the bathroom. Upon opening the door, you let out a gasp. The first thing your eyes latched on was the beautiful marble bathtub. It was huge, your mind wandering to how many people it could possibly fit and if your new husband would like to share the bath. 

The marble floor and walls shone bright in the white light of the overhead lamp. The dual vanity counter was set on a teak wood cabinet, the light colour of the wood complementing the white marble that was tied into every element of the bathroom.

Wandering back into the bedroom, you found Jake right where you left him, “You’ll have to drag me out of here when it’s time to check out,” you told him, falling back into the mattress to join him on the bed. You cursed under your breath, “It’s like laying on a cloud. Yeah, I am never leaving this place.” 

“That’s a shame, there’s a great rooftop bar…” he said, his voice quiet, like he was on the brink of sleep once again.

You paused for a moment, “Technically, I wouldn’t be leaving the hotel…” you replied.

“You are so easy to persuade,” he laughed, “We can go after we shower and get out of our flight clothes. I feel like I smell like airport air freshener.”

Jake pushed himself off of the bed, shedding his clothes in front of you before stepping into the bathroom, “You know, I reckon we can fit two people in that bathtub,” he called out to you a second later. 

“Is that so?” you replied, a little smirk making its way onto your face.

“Want to try?” he asked, appearing at the door. 

Jake leaned against the doorframe, crossing his arms over his chest. Your eyes swept over him, taking in the bulging muscles in his arms, his toned thighs and his dark, blown-out pupils. 

“Only if you make me,” you replied. 

In a second, Jake had crossed the distance between the bathroom and the bed and joined you on the mattress. He straddled your waist, making quick work of removing your shirt, before unbuttoning your jeans and leaving the bed to shimmy them off. Then, Jake scooped you up bridal style, eliciting a giggle from you.

“Your wish is my command, Mrs. Seresin,” he breathed into your ear as he carried you to the bathroom.

----

“Room service!” The waiter announced through the door, waking you up. Jake had already been awake for hours, and by the looks of it he had both been to the Hotel gym and on a run around Rome, no doubt scouting out some of the places he had planned to take you to see.

After relieving the waiter of his tray, Jake carried it through to the terrace, dropping off a coffee by your bedside to entice you out of the covers. You joined him ten minutes later after a quick shower and getting dressed in a pair of white linen trousers and a black top. You sat down next to him, both of your chairs turned away from the sliding glass door and towards Rome, over which the sun had started to rise.

“So, what’s the plan?” you asked as you finished your last bite of croissant and washed it down with a glass of orange juice.

Jake downed his espresso, “Well, your aunt is taking us for coffee in about three hours,” he said. Your aunt and that evening’s activity were the only things you had asked Jake to include in the planning for Rome. She lived by Piazza Navona, roughly fifteen minutes away from where you were staying, in a townhouse squeezed between two cafés. You had spent many summers sitting with her on the balcony overlooking the piazza sipping coffee and listening to classical music as she painstakingly tried teaching you Italian. Although you could pick languages up relatively easily, younger you had been more interested in people watching to listen to your Aunt Caitlyn. 

After killing time with Jake and little else, you finally got ready to go. You fished out a pair of white tennis shoes and checked out nothing was missing from your bag while Jake fastened his belt, then made your way downstairs and onto the paved roads of Rome. Fifteen minutes later, you were knocking on your aunt’s bright yellow door using the lion’s head knocker.

When she opened the door, she was angrily shouting at someone on the phone, ranting about something you didn’t understand. The only words you managed to catch were Freud, Picasso and mother, which posed more questions than it answered but from the smile on Jake’s face, he had caught all of it and immediately took a liking to Aunt Caitlyn. You walked inside the house, careful not to run into any of the piles of books she had laying about.

She slammed the phone down on her coffee table so hard some leftover coffee flew out of a nearby mug and let out a shaky breath. She closed her eyes to collect herself for a moment, “Y/n, Darling,” she said a minute later with a large smile, “It has been so long!” Aunt Caitlyn threw her arms around you, hugging you tight. Then, seeing Jake, she added, “And you must be Giacobbe,” embracing him as well.

“Jacob, actually. I was the only one not to get the Italian name,” he explained. Your aunt looked at him as if to decide whether or not that would bother her, after a few moments, she shrugged, “Do you have many siblings, Jacob?”

“One sister and two brothers,” Jake replied, “My sister is engaged and both of my brothers are married with children,” he anticipated.

Your aunt picked up the spilt cup and a few more on her way to the kitchen. You heard her empty them in her sink and place them in the dishwasher before turning it on.

“Yes, his sister got engaged at our wedding actually,” you said, looking around the house. Your aunt had always been chaotic and her living quarters reflected that, from piles of books lining the walls to loose sheets of papers littering the floor.

“Ah yes! Sorry I couldn’t make it to the wedding, we got a new set of paintings at the museums and they needed me in restauration,” she said, “I thought we could have coffee near the Pantheon, it’s nicer than next door,” she added, picking up her handbag and walking out into the street. Ten minutes later, Aunt Caitlyn ushered you into a chair after turning them towards the monument. A waiter came by to take your orders and you all settled into a comfortable silence for a few minutes.

“I take it you work for a museum?” Jake asked.

Aunt Caitlyn hummed, “Galleria Borghese, I’m the head of restoration for all paintings and artefacts there. I hear you are a pilot,” she added, taking a sip of her coffee almost as soon as the waiter set it down in front of her. 

“Yes, ma’am. I’ve just recently been promoted to Lieutenant Commander,” Jake said proudly. You gave him a smile, squeezing his hand in yours. 

Your aunt hummed, a sour look coming over her face, “Hum, too much creamer. So you are going to be able to take care of our girl right? She deserves the best.”

Jake coughed, choking on his coffee, the unexpected question making you shoot your aunt  fierce look, “Auntie…” you started. 

“What? I want to make sure the man knows what I expect, the lord knows my dear sister-in-law didn’t,” she said quietly, her voice sounding bitter. 

Your heart warmed, it was good to know that she thought your mother’s treatment of you to be unfair. Jake cleared his throat before answering your aunt’s interrogation, “Y/n is the best thing that’s ever happened to me. The only thing she isn’t above in my life is God.” 

Aunt Caitlyn nodded, “Good, be sure to keep it that way. I’d hate for the Admiral to get a call from an old friend.” 

You saw some of the blood drain out of Jake’s face at the thought, “Of course, we wouldn’t want that.” 

The three of you sat in a somewhat comfortable silence for a few more minutes before Aunt Caitlyn’s coffee ran out. Standing up, she pulled you into a hug, “I better be going, the museum opens soon. Maybe the two of you can come by today for a private tour, humm?”

“That sounds great Auntie, we will see you this afternoon,” you said, squeezing her tightly before settling down in your seat again. 

“Alright young man, keep her safe. I’ll see both of you later,” she said, pointing a stern finger at Jake before shooting him a smile and making her way down the street towards the Galleria Borghese. 

“Sorry about that, had I realised that she would interrogate you–” you started, but Jake cut you off. 

“It’s alright, she is protective of you, and it’s not like I haven’t heard it all before from your sisters,” he said with a smile, bringing your hand up to his lips and placing a delicate kiss to your knuckles, “Are you ready mi amore?” 

“I believe so, where are we heading?” you asked, gathering up your belongings from the chair you had been seated in. 

“Trevi’s fountain!” Jake said excitedly as he placed some money on the table to pay for your coffees. 

The two of you enjoyed the walk, taking a few detours to stop in other piazzas before coming upon the fountain. As you stood there, looking up at the intricate design of the fountain, you felt Jake’s arms wrap around you from behind, “What do you think?” he asked. 

“I think it's beautiful,” you said. You and Jake had managed to make it to the front of the fountain and you found yourself distracted by its clear blue water. The crowd surrounding the fountain was pressing around the two of you more intensely and it made you nervous. Feeling you stiffen in his arms, Jake pulled you more firmly into his chest, effectively blocking you from the strangers around you. You felt his breath on your neck before his deep voice echoed into your ear, “Did you know that this fountain was constructed in the 18th century?” he asked. 

You cleared your throat, closing your eyes and letting his arms and voice envelope you in a comfortable warmth, “No, I didn’t,” you said. 

You could feel his mouth form a smile near your ear, “There’s this saying, a myth really, about throwing coins into the fountain. If you throw only one, you’ll return to Rome. If you throw two, you’ll fall in love with an attractive Italian. And if you throw three, you’ll marry the person that you met,” he said, pausing a moment before removing one arm from your waist. You felt him dig around in his pocket, and upon opening your eyes, saw he had presented you with three coins, “How many are you going to throw darlin’?”

You let out a laugh, pressing a kiss to his lips, “Only one. I’ve already fallen in love with an attractive Italian, and he just married me.” 

Jake smiled at you with his megawatt grin before pressing a kiss to your forehead. Feeling better than before, you collected one of the coins from his hand and tossed it into the fountain. Settling back in his arms, you and Jake stood at the edge for another moment before you said, “Are you ready?” 

“If you are darlin’,” he replied, pulling away from your back and taking your hand. Jake’s large frame split the crowd around you easily and you slipped past people behind him. Taking lead, Jake slipped your arm into his, leading you north of the Trevi Fountain and towards the Spanish Steps. You passed through a few piazzas and past a department store before coming to a stop at the bottom of the steps in the Piazza di Spagna. 

Looking up the one hundred and thirty-five steps, you shaded your eyes with your hand. The late morning sun was bright against your eyes. A warm hand on your arm startled you, looking over at where Jake was standing you saw that he was holding out a pair of sunglasses to you. Taking them from him, you smiled as you put them on. They were one of his pairs, but since the two of you had started dating, he began carrying two sets of sunglasses on him. You had a bad habit of forgetting yours. 

Placing the Ray-Bans on your face, you gave him a smile, “How do I look?” 

“Beautiful, as always,” Jake said, slipping his own pair on his eyes before pressing a kiss to your forehead. 

The two of you climbed the steps hand in hand, stopping along the way to admire the views provided by the steps and people watch. When you got to the top, you sat on a bench outside of the Trinita dei Monti, the Church of the Most Holy Trinity on the Mounts. 

As the time grew closer and closer to eleven in the morning, a small group of people gathered around the front of the church. Jake turned to you, “They are doing a tour, do you want to join?”

“Sure!” you said, springing up from the bench excitedly and joining the line. Jake paid the admission fee only after confirming with you that it was alright if the tour was in Italian. As you moved with the group through the church, Jake translated for you quietly. You were entranced by the paintings, statues, stained glass, and tapestries that they had preserved and on display. The convent was quiet except for the sound of your feet on the ground and the tour guide’s smooth voice. 

The tour lasted an hour and thirty minutes and by the time you were done, you and Jake were ready to grab some lunch before meeting your aunt at the museum. The walk was going to be twenty minutes, but after being cooped up in an aeroplane for the long flight, you didn’t mind. Along the way, you stopped at a cafe, both of you ordering coffees and lunch. 

“Are you having fun so far?” Jake asked. 

“Yes! I can’t believe we have another ten days of this before we have to go home. I don’t know how you managed it,” you said, taking another bite from your sandwich. 

“Well, when you’re married to the Admiral’s daughter, you get some special treatment now and then,” Jake said, a smirk on his face. 

Letting out a surprised laugh you responded, “You didn’t!” 

“Oh I did, but he didn’t mind too much,” Jake said, “I might be paying for it later, hopefully he will take it easy on me.” 

“What did you trade him for?” you asked, knowing very well how Beau worked. 

“I may or may not have offered up some free babysitting services,” Jake said, a nervous look on his face. 

You laughed again, “Oh my, you are really in trouble then.” 

“Yeah, it’s a good thing I have you to help me, right?” he asked, wiping his mouth with a napkin. 

You let out a quiet humm, “I suppose since I have thus far enjoyed our vacation, there isn’t a reason I couldn’t help you.”

“Good, because I don’t know if I could handle all of his kids at one time. Peter and Matthew are more than a handful by themselves,” he replied, sounding rather relieved at the news. 

Once you had finished lunch, and Jake paid, you finished your walk to the Galleria Borghese. You had let your aunt know that you would be there soon and she met you on the steps outside of the museum. 

“Ah, sweet girl, how was the fountain, and the steps?” she asked, embracing you in a tight hug like she hadn’t just seen you that morning. 

“It was wonderful! A bit crowded, but they were both good to see. We also toured the Trinita dei Monti,” you told her, stepping back from her hug and letting her guide you into the building, Jake following close behind. 

“Good, good. I was hoping it wouldn’t be too busy for you, but this is a popular time to visit,” she said. As you walked through the front doors of the museum, she waved to the woman sitting behind the ticket counter, “These two are with me Luciana,” she called out. 

As she guided you around the museum, telling you the history of each painting, statue, and mural, the time flew by. When you looked down at your watch, you were surprised to find that it was almost six in the evening and you had been walking around the gallery for four hours. 

“Goodness,” you said, cutting off your aunt’s explanation of another painting hanging in the gallery. 

“What’s that love?” she asked, turning to look at you. 

“I just didn’t realise the time,” you said quickly, “We should go back to the hotel or we will be late for the opera.” 

“You’re right dear, shall I give you and Jacob a ride back?” she asked. 

“That would be great,” you said, “We can meet you at the Opera once we are dressed.” 

“Alright, let’s go then,” Aunt Catilyn said, leading the two of you to her car. She had never been overly worried about what people thought of her wealth or status, and her car reflected that. It was nothing special, just a little Camry to get her from point A to B. You offered Jake the front seat, but he declined, “You sit up front with your aunt, I’ll be okay,” he insisted. 

You laughed when he squished himself into the back seat, his legs cramped against your seat back. Your aunt made short work of the drive, and soon you and Jake were back in your hotel room. The length of the day was starting to catch up to you and the bed looked so inviting. Jake caught the longing look you shot at the bed, “No, no, you need to get ready. I’ll order us some room service okay?”

You let out a disappointed huff, “Okay, can I have a double shot of espresso in mine please?” 

Jake let out a quiet laugh before pressing a kiss to your lips, “Of course baby, I’ll make it a double.” 

Nodding, you made your way into the bathroom to freshen up. A few minutes into your shower, you heard the door to the bathroom open, “Coffee will be here in a few,” Jake said, you could see him through the steamed up glass of the shower door. 

“Okay, I’ll be done in a minute,” you called back, but before you could shut off the water, the door opened behind you, “Jake!” you squealed. 

“What? I need a shower too, we are conserving water!” he said, laughter in his voice as he pulled you back against him. 

Wrestling yourself half heartedly out of his grip you opened the door and stepped out on to the bath mat, “You are a pig Mr. Seresin,” you said once again, wrapping a white fluffy towel around yourself. 

“That’s Lieutenant Commander Seresin to you ma’am,” Jake shot back, his smile visible through the steam built up on the glass. 

You stuck your tongue out at him before making your way to the bedroom. Pulling one of the nicer dresses you packed for the trip from your bag, you laid it on the bed and went about getting dressed. 

When you heard the shower stop a moment later, you walked back into the bathroom, holding the front of the dress up on your chest, “Jake, could you do the back up for me?” you asked, turning to present him with the half zipped dress. 

He wrapped the towel around his waist before stepping towards you, “Of course darlin’,” he replied, his voice deeper than usual. You felt him run a hand up your spine before pressing a kiss to the back of your neck. His hands followed the same path back down before doing up the zip in one fluid motion. 

Just as he moved his hands back around to your waist, there was a knock on the door. Picking Jake’s wallet up off the coffee table, you tipped room service for the coffees before taking a sip of your delicious brew, “Coffee’s here,” you called to him. 

“Okay, be ready in a minute,” he called back, you found him in the bedroom putting on the clothes you had laid out for him on the bed, buttoning up the crisp blue shirt and belting up the black slacks while you ran around the room to find your cardigan and a change of shoes. Rome, while beautiful, was entirely unsuited for the pair of heels you had wanted to wear. 

As if on cue, reception called as you laced up your tennis shoes. You went down to meet the cab, gingerly climbing in and sitting quietly as the man made animated conversation with Jake before stepping back out to take in the building of the Teatro dell’Opera. You had been here before for a few auditions but you had never taken the main entrance. Cast and musicians either took the stage door, or the service door round the back. As you stepped into the magnificent theatre, you found yourself nostalgic for the terrible lighting and uneven tiles backstage, something you had cursed almost ten years ago as you tried to negotiate it in your pointe shoes. 

Box number seven had never been your favourite to sit in but your aunt swore by it. Proud owner of a seasonal ticket, she somehow always managed to snatch the box whenever she came and by the way the doorman had greeted her, you wondered if she didn’t have an inside man. Still you had to admit that it offered a great view of the stage.

“Who did Elena say she was again?” Aunt Caitlyn asked as you walked into the box, dropping off your bag by the foot of the chair and trying to make yourself comfortable on the lumpy velvet seat.

“Isn’t it written on the card?” you asked, shimmying in your seat. Your aunt shrugged, “She’s playing Marie,” you replied. 

You had met Elena on your first audition in Rome. You were the two youngest girls, clearly at a disadvantage as all the others seemed so familiar with both the stage and the cast but something had shined through that day as out of the fifty-something young girls the directors had seen, both you and Elena had been cast as Gingersnaps. Striking up a friendship had been rough at first. You spoke English and Elena spoke Russian but you had found a happy middle in French, a language you had taken an immediate liking to in school and seemed to have a talent for despite the hostile grammar and difficult pronunciation. Even now, whenever you found a minute to chat, talking was done in French. 

She had messaged you out of the blue roughly three months ago after having completed a course to become a professor in ballet at the National Dance Academy. Since then, you had chatted nearly every day, shocking her with the news of your wedding and being surprised in return when she announced the birth of a little baby girl in December. In order to catch up, she had extended free tickets and a backstage pass. 

The curtain rose over the stage as the orchestra played the overture and the ballet began. After nearly two hours of dancing including a short intermission, and a few mistakes which you were fairly certain only you caught, it was time to meet Elena by the wings.

"Ça va ma cocotte? Ça fait tellement longtemps!” Elena exclaimed, jumping through the door before you could even touch the handle. She threw her arms around you, squeezing the boning of the corset uncomfortably against you, “Oui, ils ne nous ont même pas donné de nouveaux costumes…” she lamented. You took another look at the costume. The blue dress looked old and worn, pinned in some places and taken in or let out in others. Elena was right, it seemed to have lived through a ballet or three too many. 

“Pas grave,” she said, watching you frown at the state of the dress you had both dreamt of wearing once upon a time. You reached to touch the tulle where it had snagged against something but she swatted your hand away, “Tu ne me présentes pas?” she asked, giving you a pointed look and a nod towards Jake.

“Right, oui. Introductions, sorry,” you told Jake, “Jake this is Elena,” then, turning back towards your friend, “Elena, voici mon mari, Jake,” 

“Mon Dieu, ils sont tous aussi beaux en Amérique?" she asked, shooting you a wink. You usually minded when people commented on Jake’s appearance, not that you would ever admit that you were jealous, of course, but your brain seemed insistent on hearing ‘he’s out of your league’ when the only thing people said was ‘he’s handsome’. When it came from Elena however, you found you didn’t mind, probably because you knew she was rather happily paired with the Nutcracker Prince himself.

“Il parle français?” she asked, suddenly panicked Jake might have understood. 

You shook your head, with a smile,“Anglais et Italien,” you reassured her.

“Russian, too,” Jake said, “Not much, though,” he added when Elena understood.

“Sdelay yey bol'no, i ya sdelayu to zhe samoye s toboy,” she smiled. 

Jake grinned at her threat. You were a wonderful woman, someone that many people held dear and someone people couldn’t help but want to protect. He had been told to treat you right so many times now and with the same tone of voice that he could have heard the first part of that sentence in any language and he would have been able to complete the second part by himself. ‘Don’t hurt her or I will do the same to you,’ was now firmly in the top ten things people had most often told him.

“ya by nikogda,” he replied, with a little nod of the head. Of course he would never.

“Je l’aime bien, Y/n,” Elena winked at you again. The entire exchange had flown over your head but you were happy they both seemed to get along, “Venez, je vais vous presenter la famille,” she said, grabbing you by the wrist and dragging you inside.

You had met Nikola before, albeit briefly and over skype, still when he saw the three of you approach with his wife he jumped up from his seat and greeted you like an old friend. 

“My English is poor,” he said in an apologetic tone of voice, “I can understand but you will have to speak slowly. My name is Nikola Popov, I am Elena’s husband,” he added with a thick russian accent.

“This,” he said, moving back to point towards a pushchair, “is our son. His name is Dmitri.”

Elena advanced towards the pushchair, lifting the baby out of it and cradling the five and a half month old in her arms, “Tu veux le tenir?” she asked, already knowing your answer. You had never in your life passed up on holding a baby and you suspected that if you ever did it would only be because you were already holding one.

You nodded furiously under Jake’s amused gaze. Elena gave you her son, depositing him into your arms with a look of warning which you only understood when she let go of the boy and his full weight became apparent. Dmitri looked at you with two large blue eyes searching your face for any sign of recognition, when he found none, his face twisted in a frown. The little boy’s eyes filled with tears and his bottom lip quivered, but when you smiled, gently taking in his little fist into your bigger hand, all traces of sadness vanished and he returned a large toothless grin. You gently let go of his fist to tickle his tummy, eliciting a round of delighted giggles.

“Il est mignon,” you stated, “He’s adorable,” you translated to Jake, who nodded without even looking at the child but instead staring directly at you. You raised an eyebrow at his unreadable expression but he just winked.

"Ça fait envie, non?” Elena giggled, her laugh matching her son’s to a T. It did make you want one, especially when you looked at his cherub-like face and you could see Elena’s nose and ears and Nikola’s eyes and smile. 

Dmitri giggled again, reaching out to you. You flipped him upright carefully so he hung out in front of you. His little hands came up to touch your face, gently petting your cheeks and then your hair, seemingly mesmerised by your golden curls unaware they were much the same as his. 

A thought fluttered through your head as you smiled at the boy, ‘I hope they have Jake’s eyes,’ you thought. The image of a little girl not much older than Dmitri appeared in your mind, bringing with it a wave of butterflies, she had your curly blonde locks, Jake’s bright green eyes and that Seresin smile that could make you do just about anything. 

Dancers changed back into their regular clothes and slowly made their way out of the wings and into the cool Roman night. Before you left, Elena dragged you towards the stage, giving you a pair of pointe shoes. Behind you, Nikola fiddled with his phone, connecting it to the theatre’s speakers. Music echoed through the walls of the empty Opera House. You took a few tentative steps, the shoes having been broken in by Elena and moulded to her feet felt strange and uncomfortable to you but confident that you would not be breaking your ankle, you followed her lead, dancing a few steps of the Dance of the Sugarplum Fairy. 

As you finished, you marvelled at how well you had remembered all the steps. You and Elena had often practised together as you spent your summers together, careful not to wake up your aunt as you twirled and pirouetted your way into the night. 

A flash woke you up from your reverie and you looked back at Nikola who had taken out his phone and snapped a picture of the two of you. You walked over to him and looked over his shoulder to see a surprisingly nice photo of your and Elena pulling concentrated faces as you danced. To the left of the frame you saw Jake, looking at you with a bright smile, his phone out as he filmed. 

—

The next morning came quickly as you and Jake spent only some of the night sleeping. Your aunt was kind enough to take you to the Colosseum in the morning and the two of you enjoyed the day together. Jake had scheduled a tour of the ruins in the morning and you both were quickly worn out from your lack of sleep and the walking from the previous day. The long walk through the Colosseum had taken you through the ruins and under the Colosseum where gladiators used to prepare for battle against one another. 

When the tour was over Jake took you to a cafe overlooking the Arch of Constantine. The ceremonial arch was the place where the great rulers of ancient Rome returned to the city after a victorious battle. 

After eating your fill of pasta marinara you finished your lunch with an espresso. Jake took your hand and led you to the Roman Forum, where you had another tour awaiting you. After viewing the crumbling ruins, the tour guide along the way explaining how the forum used to be used for all kinds of events, you were thoroughly amazed by the fact that the ruins were still standing all of these years later. 

Once your second tour of the day was done, you insisted on taking a break at another cafe. The coffee in Italy was something to die for and you wouldn’t be passing up any opportunity to have another barista’s creation. Dragging Jake into a corner cafe on the way to Palatine Hill, you ordered two cups of coffee as well as a plate of cookies and cannolis. 

“This is your secret isn’t it?” Jake asked, his mouth full of a bite of cookie. 

You looked at him, confused, “What do you mean?” you asked, taking another sip of your latte. 

“This is how you are so sweet all the time, they do say you are what you eat,” he said, giving you a wink. 

You tried to hold back the laugh, but you couldn’t help it. Everyone in the cafe turned to look at you when you burst out laughing at Jake’s innuendo. 

“You are so funny, mio amore,” you said when your laughter subsided, trailing one finger up his arm gently, watching as he got goosebumps from the slight action. 

Leaning in close to him, you whispered in his ear, “You haven’t seen how sweet I can be.” 

Jake looked at you with wide eyes as you pulled away from him, “Is that a promise.” 

“I don’t know, you’ll have to find out,” you said, daring him to rise to the challenge, before he could respond, you finished the last of your drink, “Let’s go husband, I believe we have one last tour to go on,” you said, grabbing his hand and pulling him out of the cafe. 

The Domus Aurea tour at Palatine Hill was in ruins like the rest of the Roman buildings you had visited that day, but it was more beautiful, in your opinion, than even the Colosseum. The dirt walls of the building were still standing strong, a dark tan against the blue skyline. As you were guided through the buildings you couldn’t believe that people were lucky enough to live near something so beautiful all the time. 

You were sure people might say the same about the United States’ National Parks, but at that moment, you weren’t sure you would believe them. Once the tour was over, you and Jake meandered your way back to the hotel. The long walk was killing your feet, but the time spent together was worth every moment of pain. 

When you finally made it back to the room, the two of you enjoyed a relaxing bath together before ordering room service for the evening. The Caesar salad that you received was one of the best you ever had and the hotel’s dessert selection did not disappoint. 

You laid back against the headboard of the bed, your eyes closed as Jake rubbed the soles of your feet from the long day of walking. 

“Are you having fun?” he asked. 

Opening your eyes, you saw the vulnerability on his face, “Yes, I’m having a wonderful time. You are in charge of planning all the vacations from here on out.” 

Jake laughed at you, “Are you sure? You seem tired.” 

“I am tired, but it is a good tired, I promise,” you replied, smiling at him sleepily. 

“Alright Princess, well let’s get you to bed then, we have another early morning tomorrow,” he said, pressing a kiss to the sole of your foot before letting it drop to the bed. 

“What are we doing?” you asked through a yawn as you got up and peeled the sheets back on the bed. 

Jake hummed, “I can’t tell you, it's a surprise.” 

Jake climbed into bed next to you, and you laid your head on the pillow, you were content to never move from Jake’s arms again. His warm chest pressed to your back, and his quiet breathing sounding in your ear. 

“Goodnight mi amore,” Jake said into your hair, pressing a kiss to the back of your head. 

“Sweet dreams Jakey,” you replied, your eyes already closed as sleep started to drag you under, hopefully you would get to have a lie in tomorrow morning. 

—-

You were woken up in the morning by Jake climbing out of the bed, leaving your back cold without his body heat. 

“Where ‘r you goin’?” you called after him sleepily. 

Jake turned around, coming back to the bed for a moment, he pressed a kiss to your cheek before saying in a whisper, “To shower, we have an early morning this morning for my surprise.” 

You let out a groan, “Jake, we are supposed to relax on our honeymoon.” 

“Come on darlin’, you’re going to like it I promise,” he said, “Come shower with me?” 

“Coffee?” you asked, cracking one eye to glare up at him blearily. 

He laughed quietly before grabbing your hand, pulling you into a sitting position on the bed, “I’ve got it coming princess, come on, time to shower.” 

“Be there in a minute,” you said, rubbing the sleep from your eyes, watching as your husband turned and made his way into the bathroom. You heard the shower start, deciding to appease him, you climbed out of bed. Walking into the bathroom, you squinted your eyes at the harsh light. 

“Why did you have to be a morning person?” you asked as you put toothpaste on your toothbrush. 

Jake wiped some of the steam from the glass of the shower to look at you, “Because the Lord wanted you to get up earlier,” he replied, a smile cresting over his face. 

“Speaking of the Lord,” you said after spitting into the sink, “I think we can attend mass with my aunt, if you want.” 

Jake hummed, “I think that sounds like a plan, why don’t we see what we feel like doing after my surprise?” 

“Okay,” you said, stripping off your clothes to join him in the shower, “What do I need to wear for your surprise?” you asked, flinching at the heat from the water, “Goodness!” you almost shouted into the bathroom, moving away from the steamy spray, “I thought you only took cold showers!”

“Darlin’ we’re married, I’m not taking another cold shower for the rest of my life,” Jake said, turning the water dial down so the water would cool off for you. He nuzzled his head into your neck, “Speaking of a cold shower, if I don’t get out now, I might have to go back on that promise.” 

He pressed a kiss to the side of your neck before opening the shower door and grabbing his towel from the rack. You watched as he sauntered out of the bathroom after putting some gel in his wet hair. 

When you had finished in the shower, you pulled yourself from under the calming spray. After you dried off and did your skincare routine by the sink, you wandered into the bedroom to find that Jake had laid out an outfit for you: A white maxi dress and a cream coloured woollen jumper that he had paired with your usual white tennis shoes.

“This looks nice,” you said, glancing over at Jake who was dressed in a tan t-shirt with a pair of slacks. 

“I’m allowed to dress up for my wife, aren’t I?” he asked, looking over at you while he snapped his watch on to his wrist. 

Squinting your eyes at him, you said, “I’ll figure out this surprise eventually, Seresin.” 

“Sure you will darlin’, but until then, get dressed, I don’t want to be late!” he teased, rubbing his hand across the top of your bare back. 

When the two of you left the hotel twenty minutes later, a cup of coffee in your hand, you still had no idea where he was taking you. Jake signalled a taxi and held the door open as you climbed in first. Leaning into the front seat, he whispered something to the driver, not allowing you to hear the destination. 

The ride was a quick fifteen minutes, and Jake kept you distracted the entire time, pointing at different buildings and cafes as they passed by. When you climbed out of the cab you were surprised by the crowd, looking up you recognized the church immediately as Saint Peter’s Basilica. 

“We are at the Vatican?” you asked, your voice sounding excited even to yourself. 

“Honey, we are Roman Catholic, of all the places to visit in Rome this had to be one of them,” he said sarcastically. 

You gave him a light hearted smack across the chest before walking towards the crowd, “Where are we all heading?” 

“You’ll see,” he answered, winking at you as he took your hand in his own and led you towards the doors of the church. 

When you got inside, Jake presented two tickets to a man just inside the door and he let you both inside the breathtaking church. You found a seat in one of the hundreds of pews that filled the room. Suddenly feeling self conscious, you turned to Jake, “I didn’t bring my veil.” 

He gave you a small smile before pulling a neatly folded piece of fabric from his pocket, “I knew you wouldn’t want to come without it, I grabbed it from your case this morning.” 

You pressed a kiss to his cheek, “Thank you, do you think you could help me?” you asked, trying to position the veil on your freshly cleaned hair. Jake’s hand disappeared back into his pocket, pulling out two bobby pins. He helped you straighten the veil on your head before he threaded the pins through it and into your hair. 

A bell rang, signalling the beginning of the mass, and you both stood up, facing the front of the glorious church that was now packed to the brim. Jake took your hand in his, and you felt him give it a little squeeze when the pope himself walked up the aisle holding the holy bible up for all to see. You let out a quiet gasp, realising that you were about to attend not just any mass, but a pope’s mass. 

“You didn’t,” you whispered to him quietly under your breath, shock and surprise filling your voice. 

“I did,” he said, a smile splitting his face.

The mass was read in Latin, which neither you or Jake could understand a word of, but that didn’t matter. People from all nations and languages were standing in the church and the chorus of voices that spoke through mass wasn’t just one language but several. The two of you managed to keep up with what was happening, Jake still pressing a kiss to your cheek when it was time to share peace. 

When the mass was over, as you were leaving the church, disappointed that you had to leave so soon. Jake glanced back at you and you tried to cover up your disappointment with a smile, but he still caught it. 

“Don’t worry, we’re coming back,” he said, “I figured I should feed you first.” 

You gave him a genuine smile, “That sounds lovely!” 

Jake took you to brunch at a quaint cafe just outside of Saint Peter’s Square. Once the two of you had eaten your fill, you walked back through the square and into the church. Jake presented tickets for a tour and you waited for a large enough group to join before he took you around the large church and some of its grounds. The ticket included the opportunity to climb the steps up the Dome and get a view from the top of the church across Rome. You looked at Jake nervously as you boarded the lift that would take you to the steps. He took your hand in his and whispered in your ear, “It’ll be okay, I’m right here, alright?”

You nodded at him silently, gripping his hand tight. He pressed a kiss to your forehead as the lift started moving. Glancing out the glass windows, you were able to take in the breathtaking art that decorated the walls of the church. When the lift came to a stop you both climbed out along with the rest of the tour group and started climbing the remaining stairs that the lift didn't cut out, all three hundred and twenty of them. 

When you climbed the last step, you thought that your journey was over, but you were sorely mistaken. You watched with horror as the tour guide started walking in a small path around the edge of the dome before disappearing through another hidden doorway on the other side, leading somewhere else. You turned to Jake with wide eyes and he squeezed your hand again, “You can do it baby, we will let the rest of the group go first.” 

An older man placed his hand on Jake’s arm, “Actually why don’t you two go first, that way you know we are all right behind you!”

You looked between Jake’s questioning face and the man, “Alright, we will go out first then,” you said, trying to give him a polite smile. 

“No pressure dear,” his wife added, “I used to be terrified of this climb and now I love it, just take your time.”

Nodding, you let Jake lead you to the doorway. He went first, gently pulling you along with him onto the walk path. There was a short railing but not one enough to make it comfortable for you. Gripping his hand tightly, you followed him around the dome, trying for the life of you to keep your eyes facing up and not look down towards the floor. When you finally made it to the other doorway, you were almost blinded by the light from the sun.

When you pushed it open you were surprised to find that you were standing on the roof of St. Peter’s Basilica. You felt your hand clench around Jake’s in a death grip as you stepped out onto the roof, but when you realised that there were tall, human height, railings around the decking, you let out a sigh of relief. You felt safer up here than on the narrow walk path at the top of the dome. 

Jake led you towards an edge and the two of you looked out into the distance Jake pulled out his phone, taking a few pictures of the skyline. The older couple from earlier approached you, “Honey, would you mind taking our picture? We can take one for the two of you as well.” 

“Of course,” you said, taking her phone and holding it up, “Big smiles!” you said before clicking the shutter a few times before handing their phone back to them. 

She took Jake’s offered phone from him, waiting as he wrapped one of his big arms around your shoulders, pulling you into his side. 

“Alright, say Amore!” she said, smiling as she took the picture of the two of you. 

She handed Jake’s phone back to him before thanking you one last time, her and her husband making their way to the railing. 

“They seem nice,” you said, “Cute. Do you think we will be like them one day?”

He raised a brow at you, “Old or cute?” he asked teasingly. 

“Both,” you said with a giggle, taking in the skyline around you. “Thank you for taking me up here, it was worth the little bit of fear.”

“I’m glad you like it, I was a bit worried you would refuse,” he said, “I hadn’t realised that you were afraid of heights or I wouldn’t have booked this.” 

“I’m happy you did,” you said, giving his hand a squeeze, “Where to now?” 

“Well, now we are going to the Vatican Grottos,” he said, “Are you ready?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” you teased as he led you back to the doorway into the dome. The narrow path didn’t feel so scary since you had made it across the first time. This time around you walked a little slower, not from fear but just to take in all the wonderful works of art around you. The mosaics and statues that were mounted to the walls of the dome were spectacular. 

You climbed the three hundred and twenty steps back down to the lift and closed your eyes for the descent. Once you were back on the solid ground you let out a sigh of relief. The experience was wonderful but not something you were likely to do again for a while. 

Jake led the way towards the first Grotto of the day, the Clementine Chapel or the Chapel of Saint Peter. It was breathtaking and your tour guide made the facts he was sharing interesting. The chest in the Grotto protects the sepulchre of Peter the Apostle and it is the only part of the cathedral that maintains its original purpose and function. People make their way there every year to pay their respects. 

The tour guide then led you into the tomb of John Paul the second. Your tour guide informed you that of all the tombs you would see today, this was the most extravagant. The man was buried in a cypress coffin, then inside a zinc casket, then placed inside another casket which was nailed shut with pure gold nails. You and Jake shared a look, while you loved being Catholic, sometimes the popes were a bit dramatic.

Next was the Chapel of the Madonna of Bocciata. The guide informed you that it is one of the oldest areas on the grounds, commissioned in fifteen eighty. The chapel itself looked like it was six hundred years old, and you were careful where you stepped, not wanting to knock anything over. Jake wrapped his arm around you as you looked around, allowing you to lean into him. The long walks of the past days were wreaking havoc on your feet, and your caring husband was more than happy to try and help you relax. 

After the Chapel of the Madonna of Bocciata was the Icon of the Madonna Dolorosa where a large depiction of the Holy Madonna is painted on one whole wall of the room. You walked up to the ropes separating you from her and gazed in awe. The painting was taller than you, and it was in great shape, they didn’t know exactly how old she was but if you had to guess, several hundred years. 

The rest of the tour went fairly quickly, with your tour guide leaving you at the archeological rooms. You browsed through the parts of the original church that had been destroyed centuries ago before Jake took your hand and led you through the rest of the tour. There were a few statues of a pope and Saint Peter before you entered the Peribolos. There were two sections and while one was in pristine condition, the other was falling apart. 

“It’s beautiful,” Jake said, looking around the ruins, “Can you imagine building something that could last this long.” 

“No, it’s amazing,” you said, your neck craning to see the ceiling. Tiny tiles went all the way up the walls, depicting holy images across the expanse of the ceiling of the Peribolos. 

When you had both had your fill of the Vatican Grottos, your stomachs were begging for food. Walking past the Vatican gardens you looked back sadly, hopefully you would be able to see them before your time in Rome was over. 

You and Jake sat down to a traditional Italian dinner, served family style in the restaurant. It was easily the best fettuccine alfredo you had ever had, even though Jake insisted that yours was better. 

The sun was dipping low on the horizon when you exited the restaurant, “Do you think we have time to walk through the gardens?” you asked, your head resting against Jake’s arm. 

“I was hoping so,” he said, you could feel him shift to look down at you, “Do you want to?”

You nodded your head, giving him a quiet, “Yes.”

He squeezed your hand once before walking leisurely back to Saint Peter’s Square and to the entrance for the Vatican gardens. 

----

You walked around the Vatican gardens, the audio guide’s headphones squeezing your head a little uncomfortably as you passed Saint John’s tower. 

“ -- Today, this tower is mainly used for papal apartments. It was also the site for important meetings over the years, including Pope Benedict XVI’s meeting with the US president George Bush in 2008,” the voice inside your ears announced. The woman had been a good companion for the past two hours, explaining things in a clear and interesting manner, and yet you couldn’t concentrate on a thing she said.

You removed the headphones, letting them hang around your neck as you massage your temples to alleviate the headache that had sprung up in the last minute. Jake looked at you with an eyebrow raised asking a silent ‘are you okay’ you replied with a nod, not quite ready to give up on the tour. You passed by the fountain of the eagle without much issue but as you arrived at the Lourdes Grotto, you started to feel a little light headed with pain.

“How about we take a break,” Jake suggested, grabbing your wrist and leading you to a lonely plastic chair, left to stand by itself onto the concrete floor, “Do you want anything to drink?” he asked, quickly swinging the backpack off of his back and unzipping it to fish out a water bottle. 

Come to think of it, you had done a terrible job staying hydrated, too lost in the excitement of the day to remember to drink anything other than a cup of coffee. You gratefully accepted the water bottle and took a large swig. Resting the bottle on your knee, you took in the view.

The grotto was a copy, you had learned that much from your school’s brief venture into teaching religion. The original was located in France, somewhere near the Spanish border, if you remembered correctly, the site of which had been where a young girl saw a vision of the Madonna, the Virgin Mary. 

“It’s a copy you know?” you asked Jake, he glanced towards the grotto, shaking his head, “No I didn’t. Where’s the original?” 

“France, Lourdes I think,” you said quietly, losing yourself in your thoughts. 

Jake looked at you for a moment before asking, “What are you thinking?”

“Just about Mary. You know she’s my confirmation saint,” you said quietly. 

“Yes, I do know that,” Jake said, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. 

“Well I had a specific reason for picking her, I’m sure like you did for Saint Christopher,” you said, “I just always thought of her as the perfect mother you know? She’s really a mother to all of us, and with how my mom treated me, I don’t know, I just wanted someone better to look up to.” 

Jake nodded, rubbing your arms, “Do you want to go to Lourdes? To see the real grotto?”

“We could do that?” you asked, excitement making your stomach clench at the idea you might get to see her real grotto. 

“I could add a day to the trip, or maybe I can cancel one day and do that?” Jake asked, looking at you for permission. 

“I don’t want to ruin our plans, I know you worked hard on them,” you said, not quite meeting his eyes. 

“Princess, if that’s what you want then that’s what we will do, I just want to make you happy,” he replied, nudging your chin with his knuckle to get you to look at him. 

You smiled widely, “Alright, can you do it?”

“I will make it happen, darlin’,” he said, pulling you into a hug, him squatting down in front of the chair you were sitting in. 

“Thank you, for being so wonderful to me,” you said, your eyes tearing up a little at the thought that this wonderful man was changing plans on the trip he had made possible just for you. 

“You are wonderful to me, I’ve got to make it up to you somehow,” he said softly, squeezing you a little tighter. 

When he pulled away, you dabbed at your eyes with your finger, trying to keep the tears at bay. Jake’s face filled with concern before you reassured him, “I’m alright, I’ve just never had someone take such good care of me.” 

He pulled you up from your seat and into a full body hug, pressing a kiss to the top of your head, “It’s my job, and I love it,” he said, pulling you a little tighter, “Are you ready?” he asked. You pulled away from him, noticing that it was becoming dark. 

“Yes, let’s go back to the hotel,” you replied, taking his hand and leading him from the gardens, a smile on your face that only he could put there. 

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[sl-newsie]

Spelled (Carlos de Vil x Sanderson Daughter) Descendants 3- Ch. 4: Cause And Effect

Carlos’ POV

When the sparks clear I search the sky for Magica, but she’s already flown off. The message is still burning into Evie’s sign, and her words are still ringing in my head. ‘This is one story that doesn’t have a happy ending.’ How can she… How could she turn into this? 

“I never thought trixie would actually turn evil,” Jay comments.

I shake my head. “It’s my fault. She tried telling me that she was sick of trying to meet expectations, and I thought she was just being selfish. And now… Mal, how could you do that?”

We all stare at the elderly VK with disappointed looks, and she seems to finally understand what she did wrong.

“Guys, I- I was only doing what I thought was right for Auradon-”

“By imprisoning an innocent man?” Evie asks softly.

“By making Remus a nightguard just because he’s friends with a witch?” I question harshly. “We’re all friends with that witch, Mal. A kind white witch who’s been pushed to be someone she never wanted to be. You made her into this, Mal. And now you’ve got to fix it.”

“But first,” Evie speaks up. “We need to fix all of… this.” She gestures to Mal’s new look.

“The only thing that can reverse the spell of the scepter is Hades’ Ember,” Mal mutters.

“What about the wand?” Jay asks.

“That’s white magic. We need dark magic to counteract the scepter.”

“Right. I’ll go get the bikes.”

Jay jogs off back to Evie’s place and I follow with Dude trailing behind, still questioning in my head how the caring, gentle witch I knew and loved a month ago is the same person I just saw flying through the sky. When I meet up with Jay at the shed I see he keeps muttering to himself, and when he sees me Jay gives me a confused look.

“And… you didn’t choose to tell us about Magica’s meltdown after cotillion because…?”

“Because I didn’t think it would lead to this!” 

Jay doesn’t say more. He just keeps shaking his head as he wheels the bikes out of the storage shed. Evie and Mal come rushing out (at least as fast as Mal’s legs will allow), and we hop onto our bikes.

“Ready?” Evie asks us.

Jay gives me one last frown, and we both nod.

“Ok, let’s ride.”

We rev up our engines and speed off down the road towards the Isle. Maybe once we break Mal’s hag spell then we can focus on stopping Audrey. I just hope it’s not too late to help Magica.

Magica’s POV

My flight over Sherwood Forest is much faster than I thought, and when I see the village approaching the horizon my blood starts to boil. Looking down, I see all the people who threw me out. Look at them. Like tiny ants. All because they couldn’t handle accepting someone who’s a VK.

I fly my broom over near Miss Muffet’s bakery and gaze down at the person I’m here to see.

“Hello, Willow.”

The brunette stiffens and turns around. “Who’s there? I will not tolerate mockery!”

Her whiney voice makes me want to belch. “Oh really? Such as how I tolerated your mockery at me?”

Willow looks up and when she sees me her expression changes to a look of annoyance and disgust.

“Ugh. What are you doing here, Sanderson? Come to curse us just like you did to those poor Auradon students in June?” She rolls her eyes. “I shall inform the Royal Guard of this! How dare you disgrace this village with your deplorable witch blood!”

That final straw is enough for me to harness my growing anger and use my magic to raise Willow into the air, causing her to go into a screaming frenzy. The obnoxious noise signals for more villagers to approach and begin to get angry.

“It’s the Sanderson witch!”

“Call the Royal Guard! Take her to the Towers!”

“She’ll curse us all!”

But their petty accusations roll off of me and I hold my other hand up to chant:

“To prevent what my anger will become, prick away the nuisances one by one!”

Just as I finish, villagers begin disappearing in puffs of purple smoke. Soon the only one left is Willow, who’s still screaming at me.

“Sanderson, what have you done?! What in the name of Auradon did you do to them?!”

I fling her to the muddy ground and leer down at her. “I sent them to King Ben’s castle, so he can deal with an angry mob for once! And if he asks, I did it to prove that nothing will ever change about the way people see me!” My snarl melts into a malicious grin, and Willow must notice that she’s up next. “Now it’s your turn to feel unwanted, Willow. Remember when you complained that I grew into your life like a weed?”

When my words sink in and strike a memory, Willow’s eyes go wide and she starts shaking.

“N-No! Please! Not that- I’m too beautiful!” One would think she and Audrey were related.

“To exact revenge guaranteed, spell thee into what thy made me!”

Just like that, purple dust flies around Willow and her silhouette shrinks. When the dust clears, only a tiny clover plant is left.

I cackle at my accomplishment as I land and scoop the pathetic plant into a bowl, placing it on a nearby bench.

“Who’s the unwanted weed now, Willow? Don’t worry, I doubt anyone will notice thou is gone. But, since I still have half a heart, the spell will only last a week.”

I walk back to the village square and close my eyes, listening to the melodious sound of the nearby wilderness without any corrupt sounds to pollute it. So this is what I’ve been missing all along… It’s not my fault I can never be perfect, because humanity will always be too ignorant to accept that it’s flawed.

“My work here is done.” I summon my broom and take off, scanning the ground for any signs of where Audrey might be. After about an hour I finally spot her near the Enchanted Lake and land discretely away from the gathering nearby.

“How’s the hometown?” Audrey asks when I join her behind a boulder.

“Much more quiet now,” I smirk. “I sent Ben an angry mob to deal with and turned my childhood pain into a plant, so I’m set! What’s all this?” I gesture to the group we’re hiding from.

“Jane’s party.” Audrey looks at the party goers with a disgusted sneer. “So happy, so ignorant. But they’ll soon see that this is all wrong!”

“For there is no faithfulness in their mouth; their inward part is very wickedness; their throat is an open sepulcher; they flatter with their tongue.” Audrey gives me an odd look. “Psalm 6: 9. It talks about how people can’t be trusted.”

She considers this and gives a nod in agreement, then looks back at the party. After taking a deep breath she grips the scepter and strolls out into the crowd. I decide to stick to the back and let Audrey have her fun.

“Why is she here?” I hear Rosaline ask.

People are starting to give Audrey unwelcoming looks and murmuring complaints.

“Didn’t anyone save me some guacamole? Huh?” Audrey looks around expectantly at the other Auradon students at the refreshment table. “Looks like someone forgot to invite me. Well, don’t be expecting Mal she’s, uh, not feeling herself.” That’s one way to phrase it. “Does that make you sad? Doesn’t that ruin everything?”

I step out farther and everyone gasps.

“You! You’re back!”

“Stay away from me!” 

I roll my eyes at their pathetic whines and join Audrey by the table.

“Just wait until Mal hears about this!” Rosaline backs away.

I lift a finger to silence her. “Speak of that traitor again, and I’ll spell you to never talk again!”

“Mindless little drones!” Audrey huffs. “How could you forget what she did to us? How could you forget that I was supposed to be your queen?!”

I hear a commotion behind us, and turn to see Chad stumbling down the hill. 

“Time out, time out! First off, great new look. I absolutely love feathers!” He gawks at Audrey while she just gives him an unamused frown. “But, before whatever it is you’re gonna do, I was wondering if you wanted a, uh, loyal boyfriend by your side?”

Aurey looks at him like she’s found the winner of the world’s dumbest idiot.

“Partner in crime? Sidekick? Or maybe just a lackie to do your bidding- change tires, smoothie runs?” He crosses his fingers. “Please?”

Audrey looks down at him with a pitying stare. “You could be useful.”

She’s seriously considering this?

“Yeah?” Chad’s face lights up.

“Fine. Stand behind me. You too, Magica. Auradon likes to forget so much… they’ll love this.” She turns to face the frightened party goers and points the scepter at Jane.

“Happy birthday to you,” She bangs the scepter on the ground, which causes pink smoke to start spreading all over the forest and people immediately begin to nod off. What is she-?

“Happy birthday to you.

Happy birthday to Jane,

Happy birthday to you.”

I watch in horror as the students slump over and drift into a deep sleep. How is this justice?!

Meanwhile Audrey looks over and examines her work. “Sweet dreams.” 

I gape at her malicious actions. “Audrey… what did you do?”

She shrugs and pokes at Rosaline’s hairdo. “I just sent everyone to dreamland, that’s what.”

“When will it wear off?”

Audrey holds back her head and laughs. “Wear off? I donno, I guess whenever I feel like it.”

I slowly begin to realize her plan and shake my head.

“You never said anything about cursing the whole kingdom!”

“What difference does it make?”

“What difference? I’m trying to earn respect, not take it! That’s why I sent the angry mob to Ben, so he can personally explain to them why I’m acting like this! I- I’m not just going to randomly spell everyone!”

Audrey twirls the scepter and tilts her head. “Auradon needs to remember its roots, how things used to be. Good, and evil.”

“But there are innocent people, people who had nothing to do with you or me being cast aside. Why rope them into this?”

She picks up a pink cupcake and licks off some frosting. “Hm. I’dve thought you’d like this, Sanderson. Since when do you care about background nobodys?”

My jaw tightens and I glare daggers at the back of her pink-haired head. “Background nobodys have proven to be the most loyal people I’ve ever met, and I will not allow you to harm them!”

This causes Audrey’s eyes to flash and get an angry glint. “Well, then since you’re just going to betray me and be another goody-goody like every other ignorant person in Auradon-” Suddenly, she blasts a bolt of pink magic into my chest and sends me tumbling down the hill. “That’s the last time I trust a witch, freak!”

I land smashed against a boulder and feel my energy bleeding away, and just before I lose consciousness I see Audrey glare down at me and disappear in a cloud of smoke. I’m not good, I’m not bad… What am I?

Then my vision fades to black.

#carlos descendants #carlos de vil x reader #descendants carlos #mal descendants #evie descendants #jay descendants #uma descendants #harry hook descendants #audrey descendants #ben descendants #disney descendants #descendants x reader #mary sanderson #winifred sanderson #sarah sanderson #binx hocus pocus #hocus pocus

[starlitangels]

Tag Game: 10 First Lines (fic edition)

I got tagged by @frenchiefitzhere ! This seems like a lot of fun!

rules: share the first lines of ten of your most recent fanfics and tag ten people. If you have written less than ten, don’t be shy and share anyway.

Alright! Here we go!

1. Park Picnic (Aaron and Elliott brother fic #3 of the last couple days)

A gentle breeze drifted through Aaron’s hair.

2. Red Button-Down (Aaron and Elliott brother fic #2)

Elliott sighed sharply in frustration and yanked the shirt off, throwing it in the pile of discarded shirts on his bed.

3. The Sweet Dreams Mug (Aaron and Elliott brother fic #1)

“Aaron, why don’t you use this mug? It’s cute,” I said, climbing off the counter carefully.

4. Smash Night (Shaw Pack Edition)

I laughed, making sure to keep my drink away from flailing limbs, sitting on the floor.

5. Untitled Imperium Geordi/Cutie Ficlet

Geordi glanced around, readjusting his beanie over his curls to try and protect them from the constant rain so they couldn’t go even frizzier.

6. (Still) Not a Tank (race/role swap Sam/Darlin’ AU)

“See ya tomorrow, Audrey Jane!” Sam called as he shoved open the door to the healer’s clinic, keys already in his hand.

7. DTR (a missing scene between Dinner Date and Sleep Aid #1)

“Vincent?” I called the second I stepped through the door to the house.

8. Watch Duty (Sam and Lovely bonding while guarding Wonder World)

“William did his best with the schedules not to have either of you here all winter if he could help it,” a voice remarked.

9. Crystal Stars (a missing scene between Tends to Your Injuries and Comforted By)

“You have a scratch on your cheek. I can get it,” Avior said softly.

10. What You Are (You Can’t Hide) - (Imperium, Elliott finds James in a dream and James makes a friend in Cutie)

“I… I’ve wanted to tell you for so long…” he whispered.

Tagging: @gingerbreadmonsters @zozo-01 @dollscircus @romirola and whomever else wants to play! I’m too exhausted to think of everyone I’m so sorry

#i'm aware 3 is 2 sentences leave me alone it's the middle of a quote #tag game

[tsuki-chibi]

MayBee Queen 2022 Day 30: Fix it (episode of your choice)

Read on AO3 instead

Normally I try to use the prompt in the fic, but this one can’t really be squeezed in so I’m making an exception.

—

Any thought that Chloé might have had of finally earning her mother’s affection was dashed when Audrey Bourgeois got off the plan with another daughter.

The revelation of Zoé Lee was shocking enough to still Chloé’s tongue long after it normally would have. She trailed along silently behind her father, mother, and – apparently – her half-sister, staring silently and resentfully at Zoé’s back. Because while it was obvious that Zoé was nothing like Audrey, it was equally obvious that Audrey actually thought something of Zoé.

She even remembered Zoé’s name.

Later, after Style Queen had been dealt with and Chloé was freed from being a gold glitter statue, she was following Audrey down the stairs of the Eiffel Tower when a small box on the ground caught her attention. Curious, Chloé dropped back and then stooped down to pick up the box. It was lighter than she’d expected, made from polished wood, and Chloé unthinkingly shoved it into her pocket to be examined more closely later.

“Mom! I’m glad you’re okay!” Zoé’s voice floated up to her and Chloé grimaced. She peered over the railing, stomach curling as she watched Zoé hug Audrey.

“I’m fine. Just remind to tell my husband to fire the people in charge of the Eiffel Tower elevators,” Audrey declared, pushing Zoé away.

Zoé sighed but smiled indulgently. “Sure. Now come on! Everyone is waiting for you to start the fashion show again!”

Audrey puffed up. “Of course they are.” She swept outside with Zoé on her heels – neither of them so much as glanced in Chloé’s direction. It was like she didn’t even exist. Except now she was being ignored by two members of her family, not just one, and it seemed like nothing that she did was enough to make anyone pay attention.

Chloé clenched her fist around the box and walked down the stairs as slowly as she could. When she got to the bottom, she realized that she didn’t even want to go back to the show. What was the point? It wasn’t like anyone was going to notice whether she was there or not…

“Ridiculous,” she muttered, biting her lip hard to hold back her tears. She didn’t think she could go in there and watch Audrey, André, and Zoé interacting anymore.

So she started walking home instead.

It took her a while to make it back to the hotel, but Chloé made it. She was exhausted by the time she got back to her room, but not too tired to pull the box out of her pocket to examine it further. She opened it the box and gasped with shock as a ball of yellow light shot out of it.

“Hello, my queen!” A bee-shaped little creature chirped, looking up at Chloé.

Chloé gaped at it. “What – what are you?” she asked wonderingly.

“I’m Pollen! The kwami of the Bee miraculous.”

Miraculous? Chloé’s eyebrows shot up as she looked down at the comb in the box and she realized what she was holding.

With this, she could become a hero like Ladybug and Chat Noir!

With this, maybe her mother would –

“What’s wrong, my queen?” Pollen asked worriedly as Chloé’s shoulders slumped and her face fell.

“It’s nothing,” Chloé said, gulping and wiping her sleeve across her eyes.

Who was she kidding? Not even being a superhero would be enough to catch Audrey Bourgeois’s attention. Not with Zoé around. Even if Chloé announced it right to her mother’s face, Audrey still wouldn’t care. Maybe nothing would ever be enough to make Audrey care. She tightened her grip on the box, wondering if it was even worth talking to Pollen.

But then Pollen flew a bit closer and laid a gentle paw on Chloé’s arm. She buzzed when she flew, and that plus the kind touch was enough to make Chloé smile a bit even as she wiped her eyes again. Pollen was here – Pollen was noticing her.

Maybe that could be enough.

“It’s – it’s okay. So… Pollen, was it? Tell me more about this miraculous.”

#miraculous ladybug #chloe bourgeois #pollen #audrey bourgeois #zoe lee #style queen #maybeequeen2022

[blackbutlerfandomnerddomain]

Okay, then may I please ask for a scenario where Audrey finally meets Malfie and somewhere along the lines Aurora said “If I never met Maleficent, I would have never meet your father.” The latest one gave me this thought

Can do! I actually was thinking this!!

After the entire scene with Audrey's break down, she has calmed in heart though it still pained.

Just years of building this perfect life only to be shattered so harshly was too much for her sprite to bare. She did her hardest following rules and her grandparents' words to build the image of true kind beauty and perfection. Anyone would break after so much pressure pressed down on the glass surface.

It was like a sun of a new day shined pass a storm for Auradon. It was all peaceful again once Audrey was and the barrier was lifted that led to villains and heroes being in unity again.

As the party made to celebrate this new thing began to settle, Audrey looked to her mother. It was no doubt Aurora just got a small earful of the exposed romance she had to a villain's minion by a random person again. "You know you could clap back. Nothing's stopping you right?" She said, she tried to speak normally but her voice was still soft and weak from both her resent woken mind and the still sore wound she caries within. Aurora smiled softly and sits beside her daughter, "That just won't do. People have their thoughts. I just know I'm right on this matter."

Audrey couldn't stop her tongue with a flick as she stared at her hands, "He still works with her mom."

Silence wrapped around the two, Audrey feeling bad for speaking that way to her mother but when else is she meant to say her emotions? Never? Or how about when another break down happens?

Instead of yelling at her or walking off, her mother surprised her with a gentle hand to her back.

"I understand things are so difficult right now Audrey, it was our fault to never tell you your true origin and powers. But I hope you see we did it for you." Audrey looked to her mother, Aurora continued, "It has taken me merely a month to be call and answer by Aurora, let alone be used to the faces of my parents. And even when I did it took much longer to put the feeling of discomfort down. In a way, all that feeling of discomfort was done by Maleficent."

"Then why-?" Audrey was about to ask, stopping just when she saw her mother lift her hand up, a soft gentle smile on her lips and a shine within her eyes. "Me and Philip were planned to marry, and we were both happy to have fallen in love. But, a part of me still was missing something. Surely I could fix this and live normally, yes? Years passed and my emotions never changed. That was when it all started between me and Malfie."

Aurora smiled as she recalled arriving to the castle of Maleficent with a unamused Malfie at the door.

"He and I were obviously never on a good start. He was different than any other recruiter or minion however. Always good deep down..."

She remembered the moment they walked in a garden and smiled so happily together.

"Over time me and him were able to speak as equals and over that time I saw a new side of him I never would dare see. I saw a new side of me..."

She let some tears flutter out her eyes as she remember the feeling of the warm sun and the wind through her hair and skin as she and Malfie climb up the castle to the highest part to be by the dawn. Remember the feeling of his gentle hands hold her's in comfort as they stand barefooted against the cold stone. Remember the pure bliss her heart felt when she screamed her bottled emotions out to the sky and hearing it echo after Malfie dared her. That feeling of warmth and understanding beside someone.

"We fell in love... I wouldn't be here now if it weren't for him. And Audrey," Audrey looked at her mother, a ting of emotions swarm in her test like a buzzing bee hive on a hot summer day, both women taking their hands into each other as words speak such sweet voices of poetry, "Even though my name means "dawn", your's translate to "noble strength". It was a name given by that very same person who never knew how much we are thankful for." The teen tilt her head confused and her mother smiled with a small giggle. "Maleficent."

Audrey gasped a bit. Her emotions are still fresh and added another lair of confusion to the mix was a weird sensation. The woman who cursed her own mother at birth was the one who gave her a name?

Her brown eyes blinked a few times, her mother allowing her to take it in as much as she needed to since she wasn't able to properly before.

Finally, after what felt like hours but was most likely a few seconds, Audrey rose her voice to ask, "But... why...how...?"

Aurora smiled at her daughter and brushed a piece of her hair over and around her ear in a soft gentle manner. "She may have done something terrible, emotions are true even to people not like us. She and I grew a understanding while I fell deeper and deeper in love with the one whom she saved. Many would speak harshly and say she's better gone for what she has done, and many will try and say what has happened was never meant. But I know the truth... If she was never in pain, never invited, and never cursed me we have never met. And if I never met Maleficent, I would have never met your father. And we would have never been blessed with such strong strength of a new dawn after a dark storm."

Audrey felt tears burn her eyes as she looked down, guilt and happiness filled her aching soul. She was told all her life Maleficent and all connected to her were wicked and never will be good yet it was proven wrong so many times as Mal has saved her and others more than once, she was given life by her father, and Maleficent gifted her with a strong name as a ribbon to a supposed blessed gift to the world as her parents see her.

Words and foot steps catches both women's attention, causing them to stand on their feet to see Mal, Evi, Jay, and Carlos hurry and hug their parents and the recruiters standing by their side so close.

Carlos hugged Dalmatia close with a smile on both, "I missed you," "I missed you too pupper." Suddenly Dalmatia's eyes found Jane. "Is that her?" He asked. Carlos' smile dropped. "Oh no-"

Before the boy could act the dog was already walking to her with a smile and a chipper voice, "Hello~! I am Dalmatia. I have some stories of Carlos to tell~" Carlos chased after fast trying to stop that from happening, all while his friends and their parents laugh.

Audrey giggles at the mini chaos and slowly looked more on the bridge until she sees a man with pale skin and dark raven hair, green eyes with a handsome made face, dressed in black. She looked at him more, slowly seeing her eye shape and nose from the man's gentle face as he helps a much taller man with a grimace type facial feature and purple suit stand straight.

Aurora stands by her and takes her hand gently, a smile Audrey knows what it means; "Do you want to meet your father?"

Dazed, she nodded.

Slowly and silently the two walked hand in hand towards the man who has seen better days after being blocked from magic and his family.

Slowly the mother's feet picked up some speed as the bird opened his arms wide and held her close and tight as if she'll disappear once again from his sight.

Sniffles and soft cries and whispering of affection can be heard as Audrey stood in front of them, a slow build of happiness filling her body as she watches the gentle touches and care from this man-

After a few seconds Malfie looked to her, his green eyes quickly growing damp as his words get lost in the air. Audrey knew that feeling well as she felt it at that moment.

"I..I...Hello-" He tried to speak, but his voice was quickly taken when Audrey got close and hugged him dear with her face right against his chest. She could hear the lovely rhythm of his heart beat for his family with so much love as tears rolled from her closed eyes.

A gentle hand of a father holds the smaller softer hand of his daughter as two dance across the beautiful wooden and glittering gold stage as the stars shine above them with the soft glow of candles.

Malfie wears a dark green and black suit and a golden wedding band proudly as he smiles down at his precious daughter dressed in a beautiful soft purple and white gown fitting for a princess she is in not just title but to his heart, a freshly made golden band with a beautiful stone of malachite on her finger.

Audrey giggled some, "Daddy, your staring."

Malfie blinked and smiled bigger as he spun her before bringing her back to his arms, his eyes looking at the guest watching and enjoying the party. His eyes shine at their smiles such as the stormy light grays of Harry Hook dressed so formally for once in his life perfect for a groom.

"I'm just so happy to do this with my precious daughter. I had dreamed for this and now I am here with my wife and our child at a wedding people will for sure be envious about until the end." He said with a smile. Audrey smiled too, revealing their smiles are even the same.

Over the years since the barrier was lifted, the two spend time together as daughter and father as well as Aurora and him spent some lost time together. Audrey even got an adorable little sibling from them as a gift she can see clearly, even a little cousin from Mal and Ben some time after their marriage. Over those years her and Harry grew close and became very serious, he was taught well by his father and Lady Hook after all.

As Audrey was spun out her father's reach to her now husband's arm, all she could do is smile as she looked deeply in his eyes while her parents dance freely and openly.

#disney villain recruiters #disney villain recruiter au #descendents #audrey descendants #disney aurora #malfie #maleficent #mr. dalmatia #dalmatia #carlos de vil #harry hook #descendants harry hook

[feelgoodbridgerton]

Chapter 4: A Confrontation of Secrets

The next morning Ingrid is sitting at breakfast with her family discussing the events that happened last night.

"I’m going to see Mr. Stirling today." Ingrid says casually, as if she’s talking about the weather.

Jumping up from his chair, spilling his tea. Michael Whittington, Ingrid and her sisters father exclaims. "What? Are you out of your mind, Ingrid?! That man is a snake. He jilted you at the altar and slandered your name." He glares at her, his voice rising. "How can you even think of seeing him again?"

Audrey Whittington their mother puts a soothing hand on her husbands arm. "Michael, please. Sit down and calm yourself. She turns to Ingrid with a gentle smile. "Ingrid, dear, why do you want to see Mr. Stirling? What do you hope to accomplish?"

Ingrid meets her mother’s eyes with a determined look. "I want to confront him, mother. "I want to make him admit that he lied about me. That he never loved me. That he used me for his own gain." clenching her fists, her voice trembling. "He ruined my life, mother. He took away my happiness and my future. He owes me an apology."

Clara gasps, her eyes wide with sympathy. "Oh, Ingrid. That’s horrible. How could he be so cruel?"

Esme snorts, her lips curled in disgust. "He’s a scoundrel, that’s what he is. A heartless, spineless, worthless scoundrel. He doesn’t deserve your time or your attention, Ingrid."

Adelaide nods, her expression solemn. "I agree with Esme. He’s not worth it, Ingrid. You should forget about him and move on with your life. There are plenty of other men who would love you and treat you well."

Ingrid shakes her head, her eyes shining with resolve. "No, sisters. I can’t forget about him. I can’t let him get away with what he did to me. He hurt me too much, and he hurt our family too. He tarnished our reputation and our honor. He has to pay for his actions."

Her father sighs, his face weary. "And what if he doesn’t? What if he refuses to see you or talk to you? What if he mocks you or insults you or hurts you again? What if he tries to seduce you or blackmail you or harm you?"

Standing up, her posture straight and proud. "He won’t do that, father. I won’t let him. I’m not the same naïve girl who fell in love with him. I’m stronger now, and I won’t let him intimidate me or manipulate me. I have to do this for myself, father. I have to face him and demand justice."

Audrey stands up too, her face anxious "Ingrid, we understand your feelings, but we’re worried about you. It’s not safe for you to go alone to his house. He might have his new wife there, or his friends, or his servants. They might try to stop you or harm you."

Ingrid hugs her mother, her voice soft. "Don’t worry, mother. I won’t go alone. I’ll take a carriage and a maid with me. And I’ll be careful and discreet. I'll try not to cause a scene or a scandal. I just want to talk to him privately."

Audrey holds her daughter close, her voice hesitant. "Are you sure about this, Ingrid?"

Ingrid pulls away slightly, her voice firm. "Yes, mother. I’m sure. This is something I have to do."

Audrey lets go of her daughter, her voice resigned. "Well then… we won’t stop you, Ingrid. But please be careful and come back soon. We love you, Ingrid."

Her father stands again and gives her a quick one armed hug. "Well you better get going. He states.

Ingrid smiles at them all, her voice grateful "Thank you all for your love and support. And don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine."

When Ingrid arrives at the Stirling residence she is taken to the drawing room where her ex fiance Henry Stirling was standing looking shocked and annoyed at her presence. Without any hesitance Ingrid starts talking.

"Henry, I demand an explanation. Why did you start this rumor that I am pregnant with your child? How could you do such a thing to me?

"Ingrid, I don’t know what you’re talking about. I never started any rumor. I never said anything about you or your condition."

"Don’t lie to me, Henry. I know the truth. I heard it from Anthony, who is your friend. He told me that you told him that I was pregnant with your child, and that you couldn’t marry me because you loved someone else."

"Anthony? He told you that? That’s impossible. He must have misunderstood me, or misheard me, or made it up."

"Why would he do that? Why would he lie to me, or to you, or to anyone? He has no reason to do so. He has always been a loyal and honest friend to both of us."

"I don’t know, Ingrid. I don’t know what his motives are, or what his intentions are. But I assure you, I never told him anything of the sort."

"Then why did you leave me at the altar, Henry? Why did you break our engagement, our contract, our promise? Why did you marry Rosalind instead of me?"

"Ingrid, I’m sorry for what I did to you. I’m sorry for hurting you, and disappointing you, and embarrassing you. But I had no choice. I had to marry Rosalind."

"Why? Why did you have to marry her? What was so urgent, so important, so compelling?"

"Because she is pregnant with my child."

Ingrid gasped and looked at Rosalind, who was now standing next to Henry, holding his hand.

Rosalind looked at Ingrid with fear and guilt.

"Ingrid, please forgive me. Please don’t hate me. Please don’t blame me."

"You’re pregnant with his child? How long have you been pregnant? How long have you been seeing him?"

"I’m four months pregnant, Ingrid. I’ve been seeing him for six months."

"Six months? Six months! That means you were seeing him while he was engaged to me! That means he was cheating on me with you!"

"Yes, Ingrid. Yes, we were."

Feeling hurt and betrayed Ingrid shouts, "How could you do that to me, Rosalind? How could you do that to anyone? You were my friend! You were my confidante! You were my maid of honor!"

"I know, Ingrid. I know. And I’m sorry. I’m so sorry."

Rosalind is starting to tear up now and her voice is pleading almost begging.

Ingrid almost feels sorry for her almost.

"Sorry? Sorry is not enough! Sorry doesn’t change anything! Sorry doesn’t fix anything!"

"Ingrid, please understand. Please listen."

"Understand? Listen? What is there to understand? What is there to listen to?"

"Ingrid, please hear me out. Please let me explain."

"Explain what? Explain how you betrayed me? Explain how you stole him from me? Explain how you ruined my life?"

"No, Ingrid. No. Explain how I love him."

Ingrid looked at Rosalind with disbelief and disgust.

"Love him? Love him! You don’t love him! You don’t know what love is!"

"Yes, Ingrid. Yes, I do love him! And he loves me!"

Ingrid opens her mouth to shout some more but Henry intervenes.

"Stop shouting at my wife! Can't you see you're upsetting her more and our child!" "Also," he says "I want you to address us as Mr. and Mrs. Stirling."

Ingrid looks at Henry with contempt and hatred.

"Is that true, Mr. Stirling? Do you love her?"

Mr. Stirling looked at Rosalind with affection and admiration.

"Yes, Miss Whittington. Yes, I do love her!"

Ingrid looked at them both with anger and sorrow.

"Well then, congratulations! Congratulations on your marriage! Congratulations on your baby! Congratulations on your happiness!"

She turned around and walked away from them.

She left them behind, and left behind her dreams, her hopes, her life.

She walked away, with tears streaming down her face and never looked back.

#1800s #anthonybridgerton #benedictbridgerton #bridgerton #bridgertonbridgertonfamily #bridgertonfanfic #bridgertonfanfiction #colinbridgerton #daphnebridgerton #eloisebridgerton #fanficromance #fanfiction #francescabridgerton #gregorybridgerton #hyacinthbridgerton #katesharma #ladydanbury #ladywhistledown #regency #romancefanfiction #violetbridgerton

[browningandreasen7]

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[velvetcloxds]

AND WHATEVER COMES AFTER THAT| K.M.

Pairing: Klaus x Fem!Reader

Word count: 1991 words

Warnings: none

Summary: Klaus has been trying to convince the reader to be with him for years, but has always failed. At the end of one of Elijah's peace parties, Y/n finally gives in.

“For the lady…” Rebecca says with a smile, holding out my glass of wine for me.

“Thank you,” I say, taking the glass in my hand before refocusing my gaze on the dancefloor where the last few people are still keeping up with the silly beat of the current 60’s song. “You’d think they would have given up by now.” I say, laughing softly as I point down to where Hailey and Elijah are dancing, attempting to keep a somewhat respectable distance between them. Rebecca smiles and moves to rest her glass on the banister of the balcony.

“You’d also think he’d have officially made a move by now, but my big brother does things in his own little way.” She tells me, smiling still as her eyes linger for a sweet second on Marcel Gerard who is making quite the show of the way he’s twirling around his date, her dress shifting higher up her thigh with every turn. Rebecca scoffs softly, taking another large sip of her drink.

“He’s not the only one.” I say with a raised brow, her glass making a soft clinking noise against her ring when she grips onto her glass tighter, eyes drawn tight to show me she’s not exactly pleased with my statement.

“I don’t know what you’re implying, Y/N, but I’d remind you to think very carefully about what you’re going to say next,” She says and turns to face me, leaning forward to make sure I could hear her. “You may very well be my dearest friend and my brother may very well be completely smitten with you, but I’m not above kicking your ass.” She tells me and though her words would prompt a serious tone, I catch the little smile that slips onto her lips when our eyes meet.

“I have yet to see you try, Rebecca,” I offer in reply, laughing lightly as she shakes her head. “Besides,” I start, taking a sip of wine before handing her my glass. “I’d have to remind you that you’d be ruining your own clothing in the process.” I tell her as I move to do a slow twirl and she gasps softly, taking in the Audrey Hepburn inspired ensemble, the black dress and gloves being something that Rebecca had kept from her time spent in the actual decade. Her shock sinks into a small grin as she looks me over, eyes lingering on the pearl necklace we brought at a secondhand boutique last week.

“You look perfectly in place,” She tells me and nods towards the hallway behind us. “Maybe you could convince my brother to step out of his hole long enough to save you a dance.” She says and squeezes my arm softly as she passes by me, losing the glasses on her way down the stairs where she calmly clears the last few guest from the dancefloor and out the door, waving quickly as she closes the door of the ballroom behind her.

I smile, the music seeming louder somehow now that I’m alone in here and I find myself almost drifting down the stairs. I hum to myself, dancing towards the drink table. Swaying to the rhythm as I start pilling empty platters and used plates together.

“You missed the party,” I say softly, not stopping what I’m doing as I hear him still on the balcony above. “It was quite the turnout.” I add, stepping back from the table to look up at him, his lips tilting into a lopsided grin when he sees me.

“My apologies, love,” He shrugs eyes darkening as they slowly make their way from my lips downwards, lingering for a second on the pearls around my neck before slipping lower and lower, until he clears his throat softly, meeting my gaze in an instant. “I clearly had no idea what I’d be missing out on.” He tells me, voice low as he pulls a hand through his hair.

“Maybe you should come down here and get a better look.” I offer, tone matching his as I step back even more, slowly making my way to the dancefloor where he meets me in mere seconds, hands carefully resting on my waist as I move slowly to sway to the gentle melody, eyes glued to his as he lets out a soft breath.

“You are…” He starts, moving a hand to carefully take hold of mine. “Ravishing,” He whispers, the sound sending an almost electric shiver down my spine as he lifts my hand to his mouth where he places a delicate kiss to my palm, not once breaking eye contact. “Tell me..” He begins, using his teeth to carefully pull the glove away, holding my bare hand tightly in his own as he leads me into a dance. “Why won’t you be mine, Y/n?” He asks, holding me against him as he dips me backwards slowly, carefully turning us together before pulling me up to be but inches from his face. “Why won’t you let me love you?” He asks, keeping hold of my waist as he turns me around in his arms where he nimbly lifts my hand in the air, removing the other glove as he attentively traces the length of my arm until I can feel his skin against mine, the glove dropping soundlessly to the floor as I tilt my head to the side to see him.

“We’re dangerous together,” I tell him, carelessly letting him guide my hands to where he needs them and numbly allowing him to spin me out and then in before once again coming face to face with him. “We’d hurt each other,” I say, moving with him as we move one step forward and one step back, twirling and then repeating. “You’d hurt me.” I say, momentarily leaning back against him halfway through the twirl.

“I would never,” He offers and pauses as well, risking the loss of the rhythm to touch my cheek and gain my attention. “I could never.” He adds and I turn around in his hold.

“That’s what they always say,” I say and move my hands to his shoulders where I lead him into the same steps as earlier. “They always promise me forever,” He holds my waist delicately. “They never mean it.” I tell him, his eyes darkening as he tries to read my emotions.

“I am not them, my love,” His eyebrows knit together as he looks me over. “I will gladly give you forever and always and whatever comes after that. I love you. I burn for you,” He announces simply and I let out a shaky breath. “Can you truly say that you don’t feel the same? Tell me you don’t feel anything at all for me?” He asks, voice raw as he waits for a reply and I shake my head, dropping my hands to the side when he suddenly released me from his hold, looking to the sky as he shakes his head as well.

“Klaus,” I begin, pulling at the pearls to release the necklace from my neck, it along with the very obvious tension in the room making me feel like I’m suffocating. “I do feel the same. I feel everything and more, but it doesn’t change the fact that I can’t do this. I can’t possibly give you the power to hurt me.” I drop the pearls to the floor as I fold my arms around me, the playlist coming to an abrupt stop when the slow song ends.

“I understand,” He says after a moment, looking around the room, eyes scattering through the mess of dirty glasses and plates and coats that were left behind. “We should probably allow the staff to clean this place,” He tells me and forces a slight smile when our eyes meet. “Give me a moment to retrieve your things from upstairs and I’ll walk you home.”

“You don’t have to do that.” I say, guilt filling my heart as I see the hurt in his eyes that he couldn’t possibly hide from me even if he had attempted to do so.

“I know,” He says, picking up the fallen gloves and carefully handing them to me. “I want to.” He says, giving me a soft wink before walking up the stairs.

I let out a shaky breath as I pick up the pearls as well, folding them into the gloves to keep them safe and before my mind could even process the thought, I’m walking up the stairs, following the sound of his heartbeat that leads me to the room he spent the night in hiding away from the guests.

I use my foot to carefully push open the slightly ajar door, Klaus’s silhouette visible at the end of the room where he pushes handfuls of paintbrushes into cups of water as an overturned painting rests against the dresser.

“I couldn’t leave them uncleaned,” He informs me, my own heartbeat probably giving me away. “I got distracted downstairs is all, completely slipped my mind.”

“It’s okay,” I say and he looks at me quickly to nod before going back to his brushes and I walk to the center of the room, pulling at the string to turn on the light and get a better view of everything. “You were painting?” I ask, now noticing not just the one canvas, but a whole collection of them, all scattered and resting against multiple pieces of furniture.

“I felt remarkably inspired.” He comments shyly and I smile.

“By what?” I ask, mindfully reaching to turn around the largest of the canvases, the one I saw first and I can’t prevent the audible gasp that leaves my lips when I see the beautiful medley of colors that he’s somehow managed to create my face with.

“You.” He answers absentmindedly, shrugging slightly as he waves my coat and purse in the air to show me that he’s found it amongst everything in here. I smile, bending down to take it all in, every brushstroke and color, every piece of himself that he used to create every stroke of me.

“This is beautiful, Klaus.” I laugh softly, holding the hand with the gloves to my heart as a sudden rush of emotions run though me.

“The painting is only as beautiful as the muse who inspired it,” He comments simply, looking at me sweetly. “I don’t think I could ever verbally explain how much you mean to me, how much I care, how much you’ve changed me purely my existing. I don’t think I could ever completely fathom how remarkable you are and how extremely lucky I am that by some strange twist of faith I’ve been lucky enough to know you,” He laughs softly as well, smiling sheepishly as he catches my gaze. “I want to live my life with you, and I’d wait however long it takes for you to feel the same.”

“Forever?” I ask, standing up and placing the gloves onto the dresser beside me. He nods.

“And always.” He adds and I smile, the dreadful and fearful feeling in my stomach slowly dissolving.

“What about just one more minute?” I ask and he tilts his head, smiling as I slowly make my way towards him, pausing only for a second before cupping his face in mine. “Thirty seconds,” I say and he holds onto my arms. “Ten seconds,” I whisper, his forehead against mine. I breathe out slowly, nodding when our eyes meet, silently asking for permission before his lips delicately meet mine. My entire body filling with butterflies as he pulls away and I smile. “Let’s get married…” I say and his chest vibrates lightly as a happy laugh fills the air, pulling back slightly just to see me.

“Are you sure?” He asks carefully and I nod, pulling him closer to me again.

“I am yours, Niklaus Mikealson. Forever and always.”

“And whatever comes after that.”

Hi there, more of my work can be found on Wattpad under @mjoubertt. Mxx.

Masterlist

#klaus mikaelson #klaus mikaleson imagine #klaus mikealson x reader #klaus x reader #the originals #the originals x reader

[poursomesunaonme]

HEY BEANIE

You already know who I'm gonna say to write for <3 (my boy Rennie ofc)

one of my favorite lyrics are for the song "James Dean and Audrey Hepburn" by Sleeping with Sirens. For some reason the love described in that song just sings to my heart <3 I wanna copy the whole song here I love it from start to finish but I don't wanna make this ask massive so I'll just copy my favorite part:

It goes to show, I hope that you know that you are What my dreams are made of And I can't fall asleep I lay in my bed awake at night And I'll fall in love You'll fall in love, it could mean everything Everything to me ooh ooh This could mean everything to me

You can write sfw or nsfw, whatever comes to you I don't mind! I love cute pet names like baby and angel <3

ah sandra! this song is so lovely<3 thanks so much for participating!!!

cw: fluff, a microscopic speck of angst

Fixtures in the sheets - that’s what you and Eren were. Lying, swimming in those swaths of fabric that decorated your bodies like ceremonial garments. Skin pressed upon skin in an intimate embrace; breathing mixed and melded, shaped by the smith’s fortuitous hand.

A lazy smile crept over Eren’s face while he beheld you. His mouth planted a tender kiss on your bare shoulder, hoping to elicit some response. But you were lost in the maze of your mind and staring at the ceiling.

“Penny for your thoughts, angel?” he inquired, inching closer to where he set his chin in the groove of your collarbone. Jade eyes glittered in studying your wistful expression.

“Am I the one for you?”

The question rang out in the uneasy silence. Eren’s breath drifted over your naked skin. His mouth hung open as he was shocked by the sudden seriousness of the evening.

The stillness hung in the room for just a few more moments before it was shattered by Eren shifting to gather you up in his arms. His embrace was gentle, careful, as he cradled your limp frame in his arms. The bareness of his chest radiated a comfortable warmth animated by the strong thrumming of the heart that was contained within it.

The two of you were silent for a long time. Eren’s lips pressed into your scalp. A deep inhale told you that he was reminding himself of the way you smelled, the scent that clung to his clothes even after days of being apart from you.

“Yes.”

His voice rumbled throughout your chest like a freight train. The vibrations sung straight to your heart, singing along the nerves to tell of a great joy. You didn’t have any major doubts about his affinity for you, but those rare bouts of insecurity had been plaguing you too much recently.

“Ever since I first saw you, baby, I knew we were meant to be.”

He pulled back slightly, gazing down at you. The finger that hooked under your chin turned your line of sight up to his handsome face, where a luminous smile awaited you.

“You’re what my dreams are made of. You’re perfect for me. You’re everything to me.”

The smile that spread impossibly wide on his face was so contagious that it traversed the space between your bodies. The stinging of tears in your eyes couldn’t be helped by your boyfriend’s sweetness, by how intentional he was in caring for you.

“And because of how perfect this love story is, I bet they’re gonna name a constellation after us.”

© all work belongs to poursomesunaonme. do not copy and repost.

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[teddy06writes]

No Matter What

{Ayup! It's Layne slowly going insane here again to bring my followers content they did not want! Yeah thats right I'm writing the outsiders again, and yeah, that means I will be accepting requests for the greasers now though probably only Dally and Johnny}

Dallas Winston x reader

trigger warnings: general canon level violence/getting jumped, mentions of/implied drunkness, swearing

premise: on your way home from the drive in you have a rough encounter with some socs, but Dallas manages to always be there to protect you

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

The movie hadn't been one you were that excited about, but Ponyboy had begged you to go, since no one else in the gang wanted, or had the time to go with him, and Darry didn't want him out past dark alone.

"Man, that Audrey Hepburn's really something." Pony mused as you climbed back over the fence.

You nodded, "She's pretty- but that hat she was wearing in the scene with the races- it was ridiculous!"

"Well all the outfits those guys were wearin in that part were ridiculous." He agreed.

You chuckled, elbowing him, "Sounded like somethin Dally or Two would do- 'move your bloomin arse!'"

He laughed, "Probably just Two-Bit, You've seen Dal durin the races, he's always quiet."

"S cause he always knows whos gonna win," You smiled to yourself.

As you both turned down the street the Curtis' lived on, you couldn't help but notice the slow turn of headlights behind you, trailing slowly. You bit the inside of your lip, anxiously, but didn't say anything, just sped up slightly, trusting Pony to do the same.

Thankfully, he didn't seem to notice, and you jammed your hands in your pockets, wrapping a hand around your pocket knife, until at last, the porch light came into view.

"How was the movie?" Darrel asked as you both got inside.

"It was real great!" Ponyboy grinned, "That Audrey Hepburn's a real looker."

Two-Bit looked over at you, chuckling, "Shame I missed the opportunity."

You laughed, "Nah, you wouldn'ta been able to stand it, too much singing."

"You went all the way to the drive in just for a musical?" Two-Bit asked.

"It was good!"

You laughed, starting to turn to look back out the door, relived to see that the car must've past.

"Right, well, I think I'm gonna head back to mine," You said, "I'll see y'all tomorrow."

"You don't want one of us to walk you home?" Darry asked.

You scoffed, "Darrel I live one street away, I'll be fine."

"Suit yourself." He shrugged.

As you headed out onto the porch, Ponyboy called, "Thanks for goin with me (y/n)!"

"No problem kid!" You chuckled.

You tucked your hands back into your jacket pockets, moving down the street and trying not to shiver in the cold night air.

Just after you'd turned at the end of the street you noticed it, the low, steady rumble of a car engine.

Glancing behind you, you could see the car, headlights off, creeping along.

"Fuckin hell." You muttered, finding a grip on your knife once again, as you upped your pace.

Turning onto your street, you glanced back again, breaking into a dead run as he car stopped, and two Socs climbed out.

"Where do you think you're goin grease?" One of them slurred.

You turned, trying to gage how far away they were, and inevitably tripped, tumbling to the ground.

They quickly got closer, and you scrambled up, flicking open your knife, "Don't you come near me!"

Still they approached, "Aww, you don't scare me little grease."

"You really think a knife's gonna scare me off?" The one who asked it was practically stumbling over his own feet.

They were clearly out of it, you told yourself, you could take them.

This theory was quickly miss proven, as another climbed from the car, and the more sober one that had been inching closer, suddenly darted forward, grabbing your wrist.

As you went to fight back, the other grabbed your other hand, violently wrenching the knife from it and flinging it away.

The third, a red head, laughed as the others pinned you down, one sitting on your still thrashing legs, "Been waitin to get you alone all night."

"Don't put your fuckin hands on me." You hissed, managing to wrench one hand free and sock him in the face.

He groaned, starting to rub at his jaw before reaching back and pulling out his knife, "You're gonna regret that little greaser."

"Keep 'em down." He hissed to the others, who were all too happy to comply.

You gasped for air, panic fully gripping you as he brought his knife toward your face.

"just a little hair cut, but I should tell you," He traced your jaw with the dull side of the knife, "I'm liable to slip."

The one holding down your arms laughed, "Look at that, little greasers gonna cry!"

It was true, tears had sprung in your eyes, spilling over onto your cheeks.

"Hey!" A voice cut through the night, angry and threatening, and sounding ready to kill, "Don't you fucking touch them!"

The next thing you knew, the soc was being tackled off of you, the other two jumping up as someone began to wail on their leader.

You couldn't quite tell what happened next, only knowing that a fight took place as you half sat up, shuffling back against the sidewalk, panting, eyes darting around wildly, and tears still pouring.

Before you knew it, Dallas Winston was crouched in front of you, a busted lip, and a smear of blood above his brow, "Holy shit Doll..."

You took in another shuddering breath, as his hands found your shoulders, "Shit.... your shakin like a leaf doll..."

"Dal-" you choked out, nearly falling forward into his chest, "thought- they- I thought they were gonna- gonna kill..."

In a surprisingly gentle manor, he began to wipe the tears from your eyes, holding you carefully, "I ain't gonna let that happen, Doll. I'm gonna do my best to protect you, no matter what."

#the outsiders #the outsiders x reader #dallas winston #dallas winston x reader #teddy06 #teddy 06 writes