#you could definitely become the designated baker couple though | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

tommyspeakycap · 3 years

Note

I love your work! I was wondering if you’d be willing to write something about (toddler) baby Shelby having Alfie help her bake a cake for Tommy

omggggg that’s so so cute!!

A Bakers Help

The burly Camden Town ‘baker’ was nothing short of completely shocked when he heard a soft banging on his office door in the mid afternoon. His eyebrows had furrowed and he had kept his hand readily on his weapon so he was prepared in the event of an enemy being on the other side of the door. He was surprised to say the least when he tugged open the door and had to look down multiple inches to spot she who knocked on the door.

There stood a little girl. One he knew fairly well but who’s appearance outside his office was still a shock. That little girl was notorious around most of England, especially in heavily gang populated territories where the “Shelby” was a household name and everybody who knew that name knew the littlest member of the family was something akin to a jewel in Tommy Shelby’s crown. Alfie had been curious as to whether or not she was actually attached to Thomas Shelby’s hip in consideration to how much time she spent right by his side, teetering along on little legs so he knew she was safe right by his side. It wasn’t often that Tommy entrusted others to watch over his youngest sister, so it would be safe to say that Alfie was incredibly confused.

“Good morning.” The little girl greets, her lips plastered with a bright smile as she lifts a hand to wave at him. Alfie braces himself on either side of his doorway with strong hands so as to lean out of his office to look out into the ‘bakery’ to both the left and right before stepping back in. “Mhm yes it was actually. Where’s your brothers?” He asks, turning his eyes back to the girl in the doorway who fights to pull her wool coat back up from falling off her arms due to the fact it hadn’t been buttoned up. The girl shrugs, “Dunno...Can I come in?” She asks politely, “It’s very cold.”

Alfie Solomons squints his eyes and forms a crease between his brows, but even he can’t deny the chill in the winter breeze through the unheated factory and the shivering of the child, and so he steps to the side and gestures her in the door. Alfie hums, or maybe something more akin to a grumble, in thought as the five year old wanders around his office to take in the whole surroundings. “And where are your pikey brothers then yeah?” His voice rumbles deep and gravelly the same way it always does, not missing the chance or thinking twice about dropping an insult to the Shelby men as he speaks. The youngest of the clan shrugs her little shoulders. “Dunno,” she says again, “I’m with Ada. Told her i was going out to play.”

The words most definitely do worry Alfie Solomons after the girl with Tommy Shelby’s striking blue eyes and his heart in the palm of her tiny hand finishes speaking flippantly. It occurs to him that she’s simply too young to understand both risk and consequence. She knows that Tommy Shelby dotes on her like the little princess he believes her to be. She knows he loves her, he tells her every day. However, Alfie knows the far darker side to that love. He’s heard of people brutally murdered with remains unidentifiable after coming close to her, and although Alfie has no desire to harm a child who probably doesn’t even understand what it is the rest of her family do when she’s not around, that doesn’t reassure him even in the slightest that Tommy, Arthur, Ada and John Shelby along with Polly Gray wouldn’t rip him to shreds if they knew their little princess was stood in his office for whatever reason.

“Right,” Alfie states, “Better get you home then,” He strides easily towards the door to hold it open, but the little girl simply quirks one eyebrow and remains where she stands. “It’s Tommy’s birthday soon.” She declares, looking up at the hardened London gangster as if he poses no threat nor fear to her in the slightest bit. She smiles at him, big and bright. She didn’t know him. She didn’t know if he was violent, didn’t know if he was supposed to be scary. She just knew she had met him before, he was relatively funny as the 5 year old obviously did not pick up on the thinly veiled threats hiding beneath the verbal back and forth between her favourite brother and the man she stood with now, and more importantly than anything; she knew he was a ‘baker’. “You need a cake on your birthday, you know.” She adds very matter of factly, and Alfie Solomons doesn’t fight the little grin he gives. “And you’re a baker, so you can make good cakes. I need you to help me make Tommy’s cake for birthday cake time on Saturday.”

There’s virtually no way this little girl had just come up with this by herself. The way she acts, her generosity, her sweetness and her absolute insistence of cake for her brothers birthday was not something she had adapted by herself. Children don’t just come up with these things. That thought, for Alfie, means that those who have raised her have drilled a certain kindness into her. Thomas Shelby has raised his little sister to be the kind of kid who will find a man she thinks is a baker just because her brother told her he was, so that he can help her make a cake. That makes Alfie want to laugh. Tommy Shelby acts the part, but Solomons now knows he’s the type who taught a little girl about the importance of cake and birthday fun.

“Fine.” Alfie responds, out stretching his arm to gesture the little girl out into the factory. He did actually have a designated area for the ‘bakery’ just in the event that someone came looking or investigating and he needed to show there was actually a bakery there. He was thankful for that now, because he got the feeling that there was little to no chance he would have gotten away from the very very persistent little Shelby trailing behind him. It becomes apparent very quickly that little (y/n) will have no luck when it comes to seeing what was going on up on the counter, considering she wasn’t even nearly the same height as it, never mind tall enough see over it. Alfie has to get creative in that respect, eyes flicking around until they lands on a a stack of crates that he grabs a couple of to pile them next to the counter so that the youngest Shelby can contribute as she pleased to the cake making.

All things considered, Alfie was actually a fairly good baker. He didn’t come up with the idea of a bakery to cover his illegal business work for no reason. He knew he could bake if it was necessary (which it sometimes was to smuggle alcohol), so this ask from the little girl who had a list of ingredients and an exact image of how she wanted this cake to look, wasn’t a huge task for him.

In the process of the bake, Alfie learned a lot. He learned that little Shelby couldn’t quite pronounce her L’s (which Tommy was apparently working on with her), so she called him Afie. He learned that Tommy’s favourite cake was vanilla sponge, which was why it was a four tier vanilla sponge with extra strawberry jam that his sweet little sister had chosen. He learned that the little girl got here by very discretely tripping up her cousin, Karl, so that Ada was preoccupied giving him a plaster for his knee and stopping his tears and (y/n) snuck off from Ada’s London home in the direction she felt like she remembered Tommy going when he had taken her to Alfie’s bakery once, albeit leaving her in the car with Arthur and John. She had to ask for directions from confused strangers a few times, but ultimately she found the place on her own. Alfie learned that little Shelby talks a lot. She’s very clever, can follow instructions a lot better than most children of a similar age. It had become increasingly clear she didn’t see any problem with talking about the fun things she did with her brothers. The way Arthur and John like to throw her about to hear her giggles, how Tommy tucks her in every single night that he can. How he tickles her, how he still carries her around even though her aunt Polly protests it. How good her aunt Polly’s cooking is. How much she loves her family. She sees no problem with divulging these soft family moments, although Tommy would probably be absolutely appalled that people knew these things about him and his brothers. It made the head of the Peaky Blinders seem so incredibly mundane.

Alfie could see now why that sweet girl was so loved and held so dear by the family. He also had to wonder if she truly was one of them. She was funny and bright, she giggled with him and babbled on about sorts of rubbish. Alas, she was bossy as Thomas himself. She was loud like Arthur, sarcastic as John, self assured as Polly, as independent as Finn and opinionated as Ada. She made sure to tell Alfie exactly how to stack the first layer while she mixed ingredients for the next layer and he was kept on a very short leash, reminded every so often that he was not to dip his fingers in any of the mixtures and leaning over as he worked to tell him Tommy liked more jam than what Alfie had put on.

“Wait!” She yelps out, leaping off the makeshift kitchen stool made from those bottle crates to chase after Alfie until she reaches the man who was carrying the cake towards a box. “Finishing touches,” she insists, ever so slightly dusting the cake with powdered icing sugar to give a final decorational appearance. Alfie smiles subconsciously as the small girl stands back with a proud grin, turning her eyes to man holding the cake, “Thank you Afie,” she beams, her cute little way of saying his name never lost on him as his heart flutters. “Welcome, baby Shelby.” He responds as he slips it into the cake box he’d ordered one of his men to go and get without question.

Alfie was certain he would step outside his bakery and London would be burning. He expected to have Shelby’s killing people on the streets searching for their baby, their sweet little princess. He assumed (and rightly so) that Ada hadn’t told Tommy that she had absolutely no idea where his most precious little love was for genuine fear of his reaction and so she had mobilised some friends and acquaintances she had made while in London to try finding her little sister. Albeit they were evidently unsuccessful and absolutely no one expected little (y/n) to be baking with Alfie Solomons for her gangster brothers birthday because she just loves him so.

Ada literally burst out the front door frantically when she saw the car headlights pull up outside her house, wrapping herself tightly in her coat as Alfie Solomons lifts her little sister down out of the car. The 5 year old stands innocent as ever next to the man who Tommy never truly knows if he can trust or not as he reaches back into the car to lift out a white cake box with two strong hands. “Better keep a closer eye on this one yeah?” He gestured his head to (y/n) who runs towards Ada and jumps into her open arms to be squeezed incredibly, almost painfully tightly. “Never run off like that again!” She hisses, her concern and anxiety clear behind her words as she speaks into her sisters soft hair, stroking it with her hand for some form of reassurance.

“Sorry Ada,” she hums cutely in response, “We made Tommy a cake though, for his birthday!” Ada let’s go of (y/n) and turns to the little girl. “Go inside and find Aunt Pol, i’ll be in shortly.” She says as she eyes Alfie Solomons with the stoney faced glare he assumes she learned from Polly Gray and her often stoney resolve. “Bye bye Afie!” The 5 year old chimes, scuttling up to him to wrap her arms around his legs for a moment before turning and running off with a wave at the doorstep with Alfie a little bit to stunned by how kind she was to him despite the bad man he was to do much else than wave after her. “You,” Ada snipped, cutting him out of his thoughts and crossing her arms firmly over her chest, “Baked a cake with my little sister?” Her words leak with confusion, eyebrows furrowed with her head tilted in question as she continues to be unable to think of any reason why Alfie Solomons hadn’t turned the little girl away or even used her as a bargaining chip with threats of harm to the child if Tommy didn’t do as Alfie wanted. Instead he baked with her a cake for Thomas and she was returned without a bump, not even a hair on her head harmed. He had returned the little Shelby who was uncharacteristically clumsy for a Shelby without her falling off of anything, burning herself on any ovens or accidentally eating something she was supposed to.

“Yeah.” Alfie responds, shrugging his shoulders at the same time. Ada steps closer to him to try in some way to read what he’s not saying, her heels clicking with each step. “And you want nothing for it?” She presses, her eyes narrowed as he shrugs. “Birthday gift innit yeah?” He grumbles, handing the cake to Ada. “She’s the best of you lot,” he states firmly as he turns his back to climb back into his car, “Keep her that way yeah?”

Ada’s frown turns to a soft smile as she nods, watching as Alfie Solomons pulls his door shut firmly and turns on his ignition.

“Mr Solomons, Oi!” She calls after him, forcing him to roll down his window to hear what she has to say. “Thank you.” She breathes, “For looking after her and bringing her home. And for the cake.” Alfie nods his head in acknowledgment. Ada isn’t sure what else to say. She still feels fairly nauseous at the fact her little sister was missing for virtually the whole day and littered with further nerves at the fact Tommy would be around to pick her up in a half hour and it wasn’t like little Shelby to keep quiet about anything, especially not when it came to Tommy and especially when it came to her adventures that her favourite brother hadn’t been part of, so assuredly she would let him know all about her baking day with Alfie after the cake was revealed tomorrow afternoon for his birthday. Alfie knew this too and he imagined he’d get a visit from the head of the Peaky Blinders relatively soon after he found out.

Tommy would probably be as confused as Ada as to why Alfie looked after little (y/n) the way he did. Alfie couldn’t even really explain it himself, she just warmed up his heart and the sweet little girl showed Alfie truly why Tommy loves that little girl so much. She brings laughter and happiness and fun. She brings light into a very, very dark life and Alfie appreciates that dedication Tommy had to keeping her safe a lot more now. He himself now had a soft spot for the kid and there was a part of him that knew for a fact he too would be making sure no one in his circle was breathing words of harming that little girl who had promised she would bake with him again, and had his birthday written on her hand so she could bake for his birthday.

Maybe the Shelby’s weren’t so bad after all.

#tommy shelby x sister!reader #tommy shelby x sister reader #shelby sister #shelby sister reader #shelby!sister #shelby!sister reader #shelby!reader #peaky blinders #peaky blinders blurb #(y/n) shelby #little shelby

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nobodyfamousposts · 3 years

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Chloe's Lament Part 2

Next part of Chloe's Lament. Chloe begins to learn of the changes to reality from her Wish.

She will not be happy about this.

____________________

When Chloe woke up, the first thing that struck her was the loud banging sounds from somewhere below her.

The second thing was pain.

“I have a headache!” She called out, laying an arm over her sleep mask-covered eyes. Her butler would hear her and respond accordingly, of course. He always did.

“And get them to stop that racket down there!” She flopped on her bed with a huff, waiting for the help to return with aid.

Really, the things she dealt with!

Normally, her butler would arrive immediately, with painkillers and fruit-infused water being presented to her within a minute.

But to her growing frustration, that minute came and passed.

Then two.

Three…

Not that Chloe was counting.

Eventually, it had been five minutes and there was still no word from the man. And to make matters worse, that damn banging from below was only getting louder and increasing her suffering.

“Ugh! Do I have to do everything myself?!”

She ripped off the sleep mask, only to wince at the level of brightness in the room. She was on the top floor with the best visibility but the windows were supposed to be tinted and covered to prevent this very thing!

Once her vision cleared, several things should have stood out as odd.

But the first thing to attract her notice was the sleep mask she had just removed—some cheapo dime-store brand. She tossed the rag away with a shriek.

“Is this a prank?!” She demanded. “That is not my personalized diamond-studded satin custom made facial mask! Jean? Jean!”

There was a ruckus from below. The sound of something being dropped. Footsteps—loud and fast and getting closer. Then the opening of a door.

“Precious! Is everything okay?”

She sneered at the sound of her father’s voice.

“No! My sleep mask was stolen, it’s too bright, my head is KILLING me and no one is getting me anything to help!”

He looked confused at that. “Are you out of Efferalgan in your bathroom cabinet?”

She gave him a look. Why would she have to get up and go to the bathroom for some painkillers when there should be someone to hand them to her?

He gave her a strange look in response. Like he was confused his daughter would expect someone to do something as simple as bringing her painkillers and water.

And water.

Preferably cherry-infused.

Was that really so much to ask? Or even require asking?

“Just…hang on a moment.” He said and left her her bathroom.

Finally.

With nothing to do but wait, she glanced around, noting that…this was not her room.

Not the one she knew, anyway.

The light that had blinded her before was from a central window overlooking the room that so obtrusively settled on her bed. In addition, there was a skylight placed above a nook set behind her bed, which brought more light into the room.

She vaguely recognized the room. Well, by its floor plan, at least. The layout and decor threw her off though. The furniture and items were clearly cheaper than her usual high end designer brands. But she saw aspects that were suited to her tastes. Minute indications of her own touch in the assortment of objects around her. Yellow and white as the themes. Black cushions and aesthetic.

It was…decent. But so beneath her it was embarrassing! These were cheap models! Practically plastic! The bedsheets were…ugh…cotton of all things! The lamps were dim! She was missing her boudoir! And her shoes! And her jewelry! She didn’t even want to imagine the nightmare that was her closet—it was practically a hole in the wall! There was no way it would fit everything!

“Here you are, dear!” Her father said, returning from her bathroom with a glass of water and a pill in hand.

She fought the grimace.

Was this tap water?

Gross!

By his expectant look, he clearly meant for her to drink it.

With her continuing headache and no better option for fast relief, Chloe reluctantly took the proffered items. She was unable to help the slightest grimace before she downed them both.

“Well, if that’s all, I’ll be getting back to setting up for the morning rush. Come downstairs to the bakery when you’re ready.” He looked almost relieved to be leaving.

Chloe barely took notice now that she had what she needed. Instead, she took to contemplating her situation and her new surroundings.

All the furniture aside, this room looked familiar. Not really well known, because Chloe was sure she had never been in such a place before. But…like she had seen it somewhere…TV maybe?

And her Daddykins was here. That meant…wherever she was, it was apparently expected for her to be here.

But where was here?

The last thing she remembered was…

She closed her eyes, straining to think past the pain.

That’s right! Hawk Moth’s offer! The Bee! She was Miracle Queen! And she had just won! She had Ladybug beaten…

Her fists clenched.

Marinette Dupain-Cheng…

It hit her.

This was just like her room!

She had only seen it a couple of times. Once for sure when Sabrina had snuck into her room per Chloe‘s instructions for blackmail material. She happened to glimpse a picture of the room here or there from other people’s phones of times that they had spent in this room—that she had really cared. It was a small and dingy room that had nothing on her glamorous abode at the hotel, which of course, was superior in every way.

She was vaguely reminded of that one show that Marinette hadn’t stopped talking about which had also apparently shown Marinette‘s room, but Chloe honestly hadn’t been bothered enough to watch it, so she didn’t have that to go on. But with what she did know, it was a safe bet to assume that this was some knockoff of Marinette‘s room.

So why was Chloe here? Why was her dad downstairs?

She… she had made the Wish, hadn’t she?

…

What…is this it?

She turned up her nose at the environment around her, completely unimpressed.

Was this dinky little room with its weird setup and tacky decor what the Wish gave her? Why would she be in any copy of Dupain-Cheng’s room layout anyway?

The Wish should have changed reality, that much was clear. There was no way she would be caught dead in Dupain-Cheng’s room otherwise—much less sleeping there like it was her own room!

…unless…it was her room?

Was it?

She had found some aspects of the room to her taste, but did that mean this was hers?

It would explain why she was there. And why her Daddy had come up. He had mentioned her bathroom earlier, then had gone through the nearby door to get a tablet and water from what she could only assume was the bathroom he had spoken of.

…he had mentioned a bakery.

Eyes wide, she stumbled out of bed and to the window. Sure enough, the school was just across the way. And there was a sign out front.

“Bourgeois Bakery”

Chloe stared.

Suddenly, it clicked. The banging from downstairs. Her Daddy talking about a ‘morning rush’. And to come down to the…

…no way!

This place was a bakery! Her Daddy was operating a bakery!

And given her location, it was the same bakery that Marinette’s parents owned originally!

This…

…wait…

…did this mean she was supposed to be Marinette?

She threw her pillow in a fury.

Stupid Wish! This wasn’t at all what she wanted!

You would think all-powerful Wish-granting artifacts would do it right!

“Where are those kwamis?!” She demanded, jumping out of the bed and looking around for anywhere she would keep such important jewels. “I’m going to give them a piece of my mind!”

She had a boudoir along with the various jewelry pieces kept there ranging among a variety of gold and diamonds—all fakes, much to her disappointment. And not a single Miraculous among them.

She slammed the final drawer in with a curse.

Nothing!

If she had the Miraculous, shouldn’t they still be with her? Do they just disappear after being used?

Ugh! Those things really were useless! Utterly useless!

It was when she stood back to full height that she noticed the monthly calendar. There were the standard holidays, but also a weekly appointment every Friday evening with some ‘Bridgette’. What was that? A spa day?

She shot a glance to her reflection in the mirror and grimaced. She definitely needed one. She could just feel all the oils on her skin!

But more to the point, there was one day circled on the calendar.

‘Start of School’

She grabbed her phone—an older, obsolete model with a glittery but fake casing—and checked the date.

That…

That was today.

It was the first day of school. A…

She checked the date again, and sure enough, it was a year ago!

Had the Wish taken her back in time?

She froze, realization hitting her.

This was the first day of school. The same day as the first akuma attack.

And when Ladybug first appeared.

That meant…she was sent back in time to the day Marinette would become Ladybug.

It was a year in the past. She wasn’t at the hotel. Her room was in a bakery. Her father was working as a baker. She was Marinette now.

That meant…

She giggled, feeling a giddiness rise within her.

Today was the day she becomes Ladybug!

It looks like the Wish did something right, after all!

Chloe grinned, spinning away from the mirror and to her closet.

She had to get ready! She had to prepare the perfect outfit! Something for the day she becomes a hero!

No. THE hero!

She knew how the Ladybug worked. Hell, she knew the akumas to come. With her prior knowledge and skills, she would know how to use the yoyo and how to use the Lucky Charm better than the old Ladybug ever did! She’d have every akuma in the bag!

Hell, maybe she could force the Ladybug kwami to tell her where the Guardian is so she can get the other Miraculous, too! That way, she could have both the Ladybug AND the Bee again.

And her Adrikens would be her partner! To support her! To stay by her side! Just as it should be!

She paused, something niggling at the back of her brain. There was something she was forgetting.

A glance around the room as she wondered

Of course, the full extent of the change and just what that meant didn’t really hit her until she went downstairs and actually saw her father.

The poor man was in the middle of retrieving a pan lined with croissants from the unbearably hot oven, his hair contained in…fishnet? Latex? Whatever the cafeteria cooks wore when she had no choice but to eat from the school’s lunchroom.

Gross! He looked like a lunch lady!

He didn’t seem to notice her, too busy dancing around the kitchen and checking over the…whatever pastries those were and just looking proud of himself.

Daddykins, no. You’re better than this! How could you be reduced to such a state?

He seemed to notice her staring. “Are you feeling better?” He asked, looking concerned.

“Er…yeah.” She replied. She wasn’t, really, but she couldn’t tell him that. He could try to have her stay home and how would she get to see the fruits of her labors from there?

“Ah good!” He said cheerfully. “It is the first day of the new school year, and you certainly want to…” He hesitated, “…start off on the right foot.”

A pause. He looked at her expectantly, but she had no idea what he was getting at.

He shook his head and turned away for a moment to grab a box before coming back and presenting it to her.

Clearly he wanted her to take it, so she sighed and took hold of the box. A peek inside revealed a number of macarons.

For her? Now this was what she was talking about!

“Oh, Daddykins! You shouldn’t have!”

“Yes,” he said with a nod. “I figured it would be a great way to start off the new year by sharing them with your classmates.”

Ugh. Seriously? All happy feelings vanished in an instant and she shot him a petulant look.

“Why should I have to share?” She demanded.

He hesitated.

She glared, tapping her foot in a clear indication of wanting an answer. Or preferably for him to just say they were all hers.

“It’s a new year and a new start.” Andre said, smiling nervously. “Maybe it’s time to just let bygones be bygones?“

It was a stupid question and she sure let him know it. She stared at him flatly, causing him to wilt.

Andre sighed.

“I know you don’t like her, but…” he hesitated. “Please, just try to get along?”

She blinked.

“Her?”

Wait.

Wait…

It suddenly struck her.

If she was Dupain-Cheng now…

That meant Marinette was in her shoes!

She grinned.

Marinette would be her bully! She’d be the rich bitch daughter of the Mayor and loathed by Paris while Chloe would be—

The one everyone rallied around.

The one Adrikens adored.

The one chosen as Ladybug!

She would have it all!

Part of her hoped the other girl would know about the previous reality…just so she could shove it in her face!

“Just take it slow,” he continued, unaware of her true thoughts. “And then you can report about it to Bridgette at your counseling session on Friday.”

Wait—counseling?

Seeing her expression, he held up his hands in a gesture of peace.

“I know you don’t like it, but it was part of the agreement. You need to make a better impression this year, sweetie.”

“What?”

“She’s the daughter of the Mayor. I’m not sure we can take another…” He trailed off before shaking his head and looking at her imploringly. “You understand, right?”

Oh.

She got it!

“Of course, Daddykins!”

Clearly Dupain-Cheng was abusing her influence, just as she thought!

She had to hand it to the girl…a part of her hadn’t been quite convinced that she would go quite that far. But that just proof that Marinette Dupain-Cheng wasn’t so perfect and that even she would be the same as Chloe once in her position!

Chloe knew she would have to bear with the mistreatment for now. No matter how much it would grate her. It would suck to have to have to accept it for any period of time.

Still, it would be worth it! It just meant even more ammunition to use against her once Chloe was Ladybug!

She didn’t even notice the look of concern he gave her or his weak goodbye as she left the bakery with the box in hand. She was too wrapped up in her own thoughts. Particularly her plans.

And what plans they were!

So what if Maribrat had Chloe’s wealth? It wasn’t like she knew the first thing about status or being a symbol. No, Ladybug did that for her and she didn’t even use it right! Not like Chloe would.

She smirked to herself, imagining the future.

Well, as soon as she got the Miraculous, taking the pigtailed down a peg would be the first thing on her list. Maybe a dip in the Seine? Or ‘accidentally’ getting her hit by an akuma or two?

Why limit it to her personally? If Ladybug spoke out against the mayor, who would vote for him? From what she remembered of Marinette’s dad, that oaf had no business being in politics anyway! Then there was the hotel, which would no doubt be a mess with him in charge anyway.

And best of all, she thought with glee, with a word from Paris’s favorite hero, Dupain-Cheng could be implicated as an ally of Hawk Moth.

Who wouldn’t believe it? If Marinette was in Chloe’s place, that meant she had to be a brat despised by Paris. Everyone would likely jump at the excuse to run her out of the city!

It was slightly disappointing that the former Ladybug wouldn’t know why the new Ladybug was so against her or that she had even been replaced, but she didn’t deserve answers anyway.

For once, Chloe was getting everything she wanted. It was like the Universe itself was on her side! Chloe would be the hero with all the Miraculous and status just as she’d always deserved. And everyone would automatically see it and love her while they would already recognize Marinette as the selfish bitch Chloe always knew she was!

It was a win/win for Chloe and all her fans—which was the best kind of win for Chloe.

Sure, it meant she would have to suffer the loss of her basic comforts like a butler, the latest in fashion and accessories, and easy immediate access to a luxury spa for now…but it would be worth it in the long run.

…maybe not the luxury spa. She would kill for the hotel’s oils and masseuse. But she would just have to deal with, ugh, scheduling with a four star locale in the meantime.

It’s for the greatest good, she reminded herself, looking mournfully at her chipped nails.

And besides, she didn’t have to suffer for long.

Today was the first day of school, which signified the first appearance of Ladybug! This was the day she achieved her destiny! Once she became Ladybug, she would be back on top!

So what if her dad was a baker instead of a hotel owner this go around? Who said it had to stay that way? Just as she could use her position to defame the Dupain-Chengs and ruin Marinette, she could endorse the bakery for free publicity. Do special promotions and deals for money. Or even better! She could make the city pay her for her work!

After all, how much was her Miracle Cure worth, really? How much would the city be willing to pay for her to fix the damage caused by akuma fights? It was only what she was owed; the least they could do is compensate her for her time.

Really, it was Marinette’s own fault for not taking advantage while she could. She could’ve been an idol or the city’s star. She could have used the Miraculous to create an army. Hell, Hawk Moth should have been nothing against her! And instead, she just…wasted her potential. On things like loose zoo animals or out of control helicopters, no less!

Chloe wouldn’t make the same mistakes.

And now that Chloe was set to be the city’s hero…

Even if Marinette was rich (for now), it would be nothing compared to what Chloe would have. She would be Paris’s hero! The BEST hero! And unlike that has-been, she at least would use Ladybug’s power and status right!

She didn’t need to be the daughter of the Mayor! Her Mother was still THE Style Queen, Audrey Bourgeois. Adrien Agreste was still her best friend. She was still Chloe Bourgeois, the best thing to happen to Paris! And now as Ladybug, she would still be back on top and ruling Paris in no time!

And it would all start once she got to school.

“Get out of my way!” She exclaimed, shoving some old fart taking his sweet time walking, sending him to the ground and out of her way.

Move aside, peons!

Her destiny awaits!

Back at the intersection, Chloe never noticed the way the elderly gentleman cast her a judging stare from his position on the ground. Or his muttering.

“No, definitely not.”

“Are you okay?” Came a voice.

“Ah, yes!” He replied, accepting the offered hand and taking stock of the girl it belonged to. She was young. In college, likely. “Thank you, young lady!”

“Of course!” She smiled, handing him back his cane. “Do you need help getting home from here? That looked like quite a fall.”

“But don’t you have somewhere to be?” He asked.

“Just school, but I can spare a few minutes if you need…?”

“There is no need for that.” He shook his head. “I will be fine, thank you for your concern.”

Yes, he decided with a smile as he watched her go, this one will do.

_________________

Ugh, walking. Who invented such a thing? She couldn’t wait until she had a personal limo again. This was so not good for her!

Chloe continued plotting as she walked, magnanimously choosing to consider this as part of the reason for revenge instead of its own thing.

And speaking of revenge! Let’s see…

She scrunched her face, trying to remember the events of the first day of school.

There had been that fight with Marinette over her seat. ‘My seat now’, she realized with glee. ‘Which means I’ll be back next to Adrikens!’

Where she should be.

And if she and Dupain-Cheng were now supposed to be switched, that meant ‘the horrible bully Marinette’ would be picking on ‘poor sweet little Chloe’.

She couldn’t wait!

‘Let’s see how you handle being in my shoes, Dupain-Cheng!’

She giggled to herself, ignoring the weirded out looks she was getting from some passing students.

Or the way the other students in general seemed to give her a wide berth.

As they should for the real Queen Bee of this school!

She was already imagining how this was going to go. And with the classroom only a few feet ahead, her vindication was already so close she could taste it!

Except when she finally arrived at the class, it was immediately clear that something wasn’t right.

Dupain-Cheng was there as expected. With her same kiddie pigtails and her pink and grey ensemble with polka-dots—what kind of designer was she anyway?

What wasn’t expected, however, was that Cesaire was already was there as well.

Originally, Cesaire defended Dupain-Cheng and they became friends. If things played out the same, shouldn’t Cesaire be coming in late? Or standing up to Dupain-Cheng here? If anything, they already seemed to be friends.

Unless Cesaire was Dupain-Cheng’s tool like Sabrina had been for her?

It made sense that this new reality would swap more around, she reasoned.

Except…

Chloe frowned. Now that she was actually close enough to the classroom, she could see the classmates gathered into a sort of half circle around Dupain-Cheng and her follower. And as she reached the doorway, she could more clearly hear what they were saying.

“—at the Le Grand Paris.” Marinette said, gesturing to Alya with a smile.

“Wow!”

“So cool!”

“That’s awesome! So you’ve just been staying at the hotel until you can get settled in?”

Alya nodded, smiling. “Yeah. At least for a little while until we could get our own apartment. Mr. Dupain-Cheng was really accommodating. Luckily, we didn’t need it for long before Mom found something. She didn’t want to take advantage of his generosity, but it’s just really amazing that he was willing to offer us room and board just to have Mom as part of his staff!”

Chloe raised a nose in disgust.

Who ever heard of such a thing?! What hotel made any profit letting people stay for free?

“We met when I was cleaning rooms and she offered to help!” Marinette explained brightly.

Chloe nearly gagged.

Cleaned?

Marinette…actually cleaned the hotel?

Why do something that gross?

That’s what the help was for! And Sabrina.

Speaking of, where was she?

Chloe glanced around, but Sabrina was nowhere to be seen amongst the classmates.

Maybe the Wish had done more than switch her with Dupain-Cheng? Maybe Cesaire and Sabrina had been switched as well? So that meant Sabrina should be the new transfer, right?

No wait, that didn’t add up. She had just walked in on Cesaire being introduced.

Sabrina was probably just her best friend, then.

She nodded.

That was good enough, she supposed. At least if she couldn’t have her necessities from the hotel, she still had Sabrina to take care of the more mundane tasks for her.

Unaware of her thoughts, Marinette had continued talking to the others unhindered.

“—said she would be coming to Francios Dupont, and I knew I had to introduce her. She’s new, so be nice.” She instructed, giving a stare to Kim in particular. “Kim.”

The taller boy raised his hands in surrender. “Fine, fine. I’ll give her a week before any challenges.”

Alya raised an eyebrow. “Challenges? Dare I ask?”

Everyone groaned.

“No dares.” Nino begged, covering his face with his hat. “Please. Kim is bad enough every year. I still can’t look at the hotel without remembering what happened last time…”

“Yeah, your dumb dare got us banned from the hotel’s pool for a month!” Alix said, pointing at Kim, who shrugged helplessly.

“Speaking of the hotel!” Marinette cut in, pulling out her tablet. “I convinced my dad to let us do this year’s work study at the hotel.” She tapped her tablet. “I have a little bit of influence over what they’ll choose as assignments, so we can try to come up with roles everyone will like.”

“Hey yeah! That sounds awesome!”

The classmates crowded the desk, chatting excitedly.

“So where will everyone go?”

“Maybe Kim and Max in security? Or Alix and Max in security, so Kim could work the pool area.”

“As a lifeguard?” Kim asked cheerfully. “I’ve done some training, after all.”

Marinette sent him a wry look and pretended to be thinking it over. “Hmm, I don’t know. Maybe as a pool cleaner?”

Kim pouted. “No fair, Mari!”

“Hey, it would do you some good to learn the cleaning process for the pools you use so much.” Mylene said, half jokingly and half pointedly, making Kim lower his head and groan.

Marinette giggled a little. “Well at any rate, I’ve set up a list of all the different jobs at the hotel so people can mark their top preferences. Between all the options, everyone is bound to find something that’ll suit them best.”

She sent Adrien a knowing look. “And of course Adrien will be in the kitchen.”

Adrien beamed at that.

Not that Chloe noticed.

“Kitchen?!” Chloe squawked. “You’re going to make my Adrikens work in a dirty old kitchen?!”

She had known Marinette would be bad, but how dare she punish Adrikens like that? She could just see it now! Her poor Adrikens, forced to slave away in a room meant for servants like…like he was a servant! Where he could get covered in grime and burn his precious skin!

Everyone frowned at her, as if she was the one being ridiculous!

The boy in question raised his hand.

“But I want to—”

“That is a flagrant abuse of power!” Chloe shouted, slamming a hand on the desk. “She’s making Adrikens work like a maid! What if his father hears about this?!”

Adrien wilted in on himself.

“The kitchen isn’t dirty or old.” Marinette said, sounding annoyingly calm with a terseness in her tone that Chloe had heard some service workers use when dealing with particularly difficult customers—though why they used it with her was beyond her. It was as if Marinette was acting like she the reasonable one dealing with an unreasonable customer or something. “They just finished the remodeling three months ago, we clean it regularly, and all of our utensils and equipment are taken good care of.”

“That’s not the point!” Chloe shouted. “How could you use my Adrikens in such a way? Gabriel Agreste would never approve when he hears about this!”

Because he would be hearing about this! Chloe would make sure of it!

“I could just explain to Mr. Agreste that this would be for good publicity.” Marinette suggested. “I’m sure he would allow it.”

She knew it! There were really no lows she wouldn’t go to!

“You’re really pushing this! And you call yourself Adrikens’ friend!” Chloe pointed at Marinette accusingly. “Just because your Daddy’s the Mayor doesn’t mean you can treat people like they’re lesser than you!”

Marinette frowned, looking uncertain as her gaze flickered between the others.

Hah! Even in Chloe’s position, Marinette still wavered easily and she couldn’t hide her insecurities to save her life. It was why she always gave in in the end! Anyone would roll over someone showing such an obvious weakness!

Hell, she may not even need to wait to see her taken down. This was a perfect opportunity to lead everyone in rising up against her tyranny.

After a few seconds, she turned back to face Chloe, no doubt to attack her for challenging her and show her true colors—

“Chloe, are you okay?”

Huh?

“My Dad just runs the Hotel. He isn’t the Mayor.”

What?!

“My Mom is. You met her at your…” She hesitated, sending the others a glance before lowering her voice, “…meeting, remember?”

She had to bite her tongue regarding the ridiculousness of Dupain-Cheng’s mother being the Mayor. Was that woman even a French citizen?

But it was the other part of Marinette’s statement that concerned her. What meeting? What was she even getting at? Why was she trying to be quiet about it.

Nevermind! She’d worry about that later!

“It doesn’t matter!” Chloe shouted, forcing Marinette to back away. “The fact is that you can’t just throw your weight around to get your way and treat people however you like! And I’m not the only one who feels that way!” She exclaimed, turning to the classmates in expectation.

…only to get a number of blank or confused stares in response.

“Um, what are you even talking about?” Alya asked incredulously.

What?

“Yeah, dude! Marinette doesn’t treat anyone that way.” Nino added.

What?

“The only one who pulls that sort of thing is you.” Said Nathaniel bitingly.

Since when does that loser talk?

And also, what?!

“And aren’t you supposed to be leaving Marinette alone?” Alix asked, giving Chloe a pointed look.

What even was that about?

“I thought that was the agreement.” Mylene said quietly.

Seriously?! Was everyone on her side?

They were supposed to be silent! Or judging the Mayor’s brat! That’s what they did with Chloe! Instead, they were jumping to her defense!

“Are you serious?” She demanded. “Like she doesn’t abuse her power and authority to push people around!”

“Of course not!” Marinette insisted. And then to Chloe’s rage, seemed to draw herself up even more, actually looking confident and self assured in a way Chloe herself had never felt in her place. “As the daughter of the mayor, I have to set a good example.”

Ex…

Example?

What even was that?

Unaware of Chloe’s short-circuiting, she continued. “And Chloe, I wouldn’t force anyone to do a role that they don’t want. That’s why I brought the list here for the class to review first.” She gestured to her tablet. “That way everyone has a chance to pick what roles they want and we can avoid the ones no one wants to do. How is that a bad thing?”

It wasn’t, admittedly. But Marinette wasn’t supposed to be the one doing it! That was the problem!

“And who put you in charge?!” Chloe demanded of Marinette. “Why are you deciding where we’ll do the work study? What, are you using the Class Rep position to flaunt your family’s hotel?”

It would make sense. Chloe had been the Class Rep for years originally. If Marinette was her…

Marinette just gave her a strange look.

“No. I’m not Class Rep, remember?”

Chloe balked.

“What?”

“Chloe, did you hit your head?” Marinette asked, sounding worried. She held a hand out in offering. “Do you need to go to the Nurse’s Office?”

Chloe jerked away from the girl’s outreached hand. Why would Dupain-Cheng still be acting…nice?

Clearly she must still be pretending!

“Nevermind that! If you aren’t the Class Rep, then who is?”

“Your benevolent dictator is here!” Came a voice. A familiar voice. The last one Chloe expected.

“Hey, Class Rep.” Marinette said, giving Chloe a pointed look while waving to the person behind her.

Chloe turned slowly. She had to force herself to move. The strain made it feel like her bones were creaking.

Behind her, Sabrina stood tall with a tablet in hand and looking…surprisingly well for a new reality as a lackey of someone other than Chloe. She almost didn’t recognize her.

Chloe stood straight, expecting the standard greeting.

To her shock, Sabrina didn’t even look at her, instead moving past her to…

“Wow, Marinette! Nice jacket!” Sabrina said first thing in greeting as she moved over to the other girl in interest.

Marinette blushed at the praise. “Thanks! My dad got me some new fabric and I was inspired to try this style!” She gave a wink. “Now this is just a test run to see how it works out.”

“It certainly looks comfortable.” Sabrina said in awe.

Were…were they ignoring her?

“I have some of the material left.” Marinette said. “I could make you your own for your birthday if you want?”

Oh gag! Why would anyone want Marinette’s tacky creations instead of the latest in season creation?

And there was Sabrina looking like that was something to be excited about!

Oh no! Without Chloe to guide her, she had lost any sense of fashion! No matter how much fuller her hair was or how she no longer looked like a strong wind could blow her away!

Clearly, her life was a tragedy without Chloe!

“And I checked like you asked.” Marinette continued, unaware of Chloe’s glare. “My Dad said we could do the work study at his hotel.”

“Thank you!” Sabrina cheered. “That’ll be one less thing to worry about.”

“Yeah, we were talking about that when you came in.” Marinette explained.

Chloe glared pointedly at the girl over the way she was blatantly ignoring that they had been in the middle of Chloe calling her out! Seriously, what was the point of getting to tell people off for their flaws if they were going to ignore you and pretend it never happened! Really! You can’t just ignore the truth like that!

“We were discussing what positions everyone wanted.” Mylene said. “Even if we can’t get the exact ones we’d like, there’ll at least be options.”

“Juleka and I can clean the ball room!” Rose exclaimed. “It will give us a chance to check the acoustics of the room. We’ve been wondering about the effects and what to expect if our band ever plays in such an area.“

Nino looked intrigued at that. “Hey, that does sound like a good idea. Maybe sign me up for that as well?” He asked, turning to Marinette before mumbling to himself about the echo effect on his beats.

Marinette gave him a nod before turning back to Rose. “I heard you guys just started, didn’t you?“

Rose nodded, beaming. “It’s so much fun!”

Marinette smiled and marked it down on her list. “Then I’ll suggest that for you.”

She paused for a moment, hesitating in clear unwillingness to continue before giving a strained smile.

“And Chloe...”

“How about trash cleanup?” Alix snarked, giving the girl a dark look.

“Excuse you?!” Chloe shouted in outrage. “Do you know who my daddy is?!”

The looks she was given were completely unimpressed.

“A baker?”

“And not even a good one.”

"Hey, his croissants are all right."

Chloe blanched, remembering that her father wasn’t the mayor in this world.

He wasn’t even rich.

He was just a baker now. A simple ordinary not even very good baker who was barely keeping his head above water trying to maintain his business and manage his teenage daughter.

And that made Chloe…

Nothing.

Her go to tactic now had no power.

But…but Sabrina! She realized in a flash that her minion was apparently the Class Rep! She could have her back her!

But when she spun around to look, the girl had actually just abandoned her and the gathering altogether to sit next to Mylene of all people! Mylene! And they were just…chatting! Since when did those two spend time together! And why wasn’t Sabrina there for her?!

“Chloe!” Came the only voice worth listening to.

Oh, Adrikens! Of course you would always be there for her!

She spun to him in expectation. Because of course her Adrikens would be on her side! Her savior! Her only ally against such cruel tyranny—

But he didn’t look happy. Or in any way amicable to her. “Don’t forget!” He whispered sharply to her. “You’re still on probation! You can’t start another commotion before the first class of the school year has even started!”

Chloe blinked.

Pro…

Probation?

…

Her?!

“How am I on—?!”

It was impossible! She had never had a criminal record! She’d never even committed a crime! Or anything that warranted getting in trouble over!

Regardless of what Ladybug said, since she clearly had it out for her.

“Just leave Marinette alone.” Adrien whispered, turning her away from the rest of the group and…her. “Please.”

She didn’t want to. There were so many questions and so many things she wanted to demand right now. She was very well inclined to make demands regardless, because she didn’t know what was going on and she needed answers.

But it was her Adrikens asking.

And she didn’t have much chance to say anything else as Bustier had chosen that time to arrive.

“Welcome back, everyone!” The woman greeted cheerfully. Her arrival cut off all other discussion as the students made their way to their desks. “I hope everyone had a good break and that we’re all ready to start the new year.”

A chorus of affirmations followed as everyone took their seats.

Everyone except Chloe, who was glancing around the room in confusion.

None of this was right.

She had expected to fight with Marinette over her seat to get to sit behind Adrien, but he was sitting at the back next to Nathaniel. And Marinette was sitting in the mid row on the other side from him, pulling Alya to sit next to her. But if she wasn’t sitting behind Adrien, what was even the point of challenging her for her seat?

…where even was Chloe’s seat?

She would have sad next to Sabrina, but that traitor hadn’t moved from her spot next to Mylene and left no room for Chloe! And nobody else was calling Chloe over—so if someone else had taken Sabrina’s place as her best friend, she had no way of even knowing who it was!

“Chloe,” Bustier called to her, ever so gently. “Your seat is up at the front, remember? As we discussed the last time we met.” She gestured to the bench at the front.

It was across the one Chloe had sat at previously, being the front desk closest to the door. And to her frustration, there was no one sitting with her! How else was she supposed to get her assignments copied? And wasn’t that the seat that loser, Nino, had been put in because he got in trouble? Chloe wasn’t in trouble though!

Adrien’s words about probation hit her, making her wince.

…was she?

She wanted to ask. She wanted to stomp her foot and demand the answers she deserved.

But Bustier was staring at her expectantly. And she could hear some giggles and snickering from behind her the longer she waited. She glanced back to Adrikens, but…he wasn’t even looking at her! He was conversing with Nathaniel over something on his sketchbook!

How could a sketchbook be more important than his best friend?!

With little other choice, Chloe slid into the front desk, blushing furiously in humiliation and trying to ignore everyone behind her.

It didn’t matter.

None of them mattered!

None of this would matter once she got the Miraculous and put Dupain-Cheng in her place! Then everyone would know SHE was the Queen Bee!

She was sure of it!

#ml fic #chloe's lament #chloe bourgeois #marinette dupain cheng #adrien agreste #kwami swap #plagg #be careful what you wish for #chloe is not careful #chloe is a horrible person #miracle queen

852 notes · View notes

takaraphoenix · 3 years

Note

Ofc I'm excited for the new chapter phoe, I am so starved for Jason content that even the suggestion that I'm going to get some (esp QUALITY Jason content like urs) makes me unbelievably giddy and I'm fr checking my phone to see when it's gonna be update time in ur timezone 🥺✨

Oh gosh, you're so sweet. Your messages always delight me a lot and since Jason took kind of a backseat today in favor of the build up of the secret reveal, yooou get a small, Jason-focused flash-forward into their future. ;) also because I actually have time to write again fdklghaöklh

Sky-blue eyes were large as they quickly flew over the words in front of him. His mouth was in a small oh-shape as he absorbed every little bit of information that was given to him. And then it just ended.

To Be Continued...

No, no, no. That couldn't possibly be! This was too exciting, it couldn't just end like that! His sister next to him made a squealing sound as she also reached the ending. She grabbed the comic book out of his hand and tried turning the page, hoping against hope there would be more.

"No, no, no," she whined frustrated and threw herself back onto the bed.

After a moment, her brother mirrored her. The two groaned and whined until their current babysitter walked in, a frown on his face. He brushed hazel-hair out of his face.

"What's gotten into you lot?"

"The comic ends, uncle Tyson! It just ends! And the next issue won't come out until next month, but it just got really, really exciting!" he heard his sister complain.

"Grace is right! This isn't fair. Cliffhangers are unlawful and inhumane!"

Tyson laughed and approached the bed to sit down between his niece and nephew. "I think I gotta talk to your parents about your definition of unlawful and inhumane, Jacky."

Jackson huffed and crossed his arms over his chest, pout in place and sky-blue eyes dark like a brewing storm. When it darkened in the room and rumbling could be heard from outside, Tyson frowned concerned and cleared his throat.

"You guys do know that you could just... ask your parents, right? They were right there. They know exactly how all of this unfolded," offered Tyson.

He took the comic-book - issue 13 of The Adventures of the New Olympians - and closed it to hold up the cover, where Jason di Angelo was standing heroically in his Blue Lightning uniform, fighting a giant space-octopus. Jackson frowned and turned to look at his sister.

"I dunno", admitted Grace. "Dad is like... dad. Not Blue Lightning. Dad sings bad old boyband songs in the shower and steals daddy's blue cookies and baby-talks to Mrs. O'Leary."

"Yeah. These comics are totally fiction, uncle Tyson", agreed Jackson seriously. "Dad's a total dork, not a superhero! He isn't like daddy and papa."

Tyson huffed a little at that, fond smile on his lips. "He isn't now. But when push comes to shove, he always got our back in a fight. Because he could never bear standing aside if his family gets hurt. Go and ask him about it, mh."

"Tyson? Where are you?", called his wife from somewhere else. "Jason is here to pick up the kids!"

"Ah, your cue, pipsqueaks", Tyson grinned and ruffled both their hair.

Grace quickly grabbed her Wisdom Warrior doll, while Jackson took the comic book, both kids quickly running out the room and downstairs. Grace just lept off a few steps before the end of the stairs, jumping straight into her dad's awaiting arms. Jason was smiling softly, hugging her tightly. Her blonde curls bounced as he whirled her around once.

"Hey there, kids. Had fun with uncle Tyson and auntie Ella?"

"Ye--es", chorused Jackson and Grace.

"Thanks for watching them, guys", Jason turned to offer Tyson and Ella a small, grateful smile. "With Perce and Nico still in Canada about that... maple syrup fuled robot apocalypse... it's been kind of stressful. And then Thabi got into trouble at school and-"

"No need to explain, or to thank us", assured Tyson, patting his brother-in-law on the back. "That's what brothers are for, Jay. We got your back. Besides, we love those two."

With a last smile aimed at the couple, Jason herded the twins out of the house and toward the car. He made sure their seatbelts were fastened before he got in the driver's seat and started the car. In the rear-mirror, he could see the twins whispering with each other, but neither speaking up. He decided against asking, for now. They'd tell him whatever was on their minds when they were ready.

Once at home, both of the kids ran off to their rooms and Jason was so busy with things around the house that he nearly forgot about the kids' strange behavior. That's what they got for having a ridiculously big house and stables, but then again, they did need the grounds to allow their companions enough space to roam free. He'd just finished feeding Tempest and Blackjack when the twins suddenly stood behind him, serious, matching frowns on their faces.

"We have come to the agreement that we should ask you", declared Grace.

A nine-year-old with pigtails had no right to look this serious. Jason smiled a little at that, nodding and waiting for more.

"We know that daddy and papa are superheroes", continued Jackson as the three headed back toward the house. "But you aren't! You're just... dad. Right?"

"Ouch", Jason huffed out a little laugh. "Just dad, huh?"

"I mean, you're normal, like us", corrected Grace with a frown, motioning at the posters at the walls when they entered the living room. "You're only a hero on the big screen! Not in real life!"

The smile on Jason's lips turned more nostalgic. His dorky, dorky husbands had decided to plaster every wall that wasn't filled with family pictures with posters of his movies. Right now, Grace was motioning very decidedly at The Twelve Tasks of Hercules. Hercules was his most popular role, a fictional superhero clearly supposed to be the son of Zeus but never actually name-dropping Zeus in the movie series. Or the spin-off TV show. It had spanned a whole cinematic universe about fictional superheroes after they had introduced Theseus, a water-powered superhero who was a thinly veiled homage to Percy, in one of the movies. Theseus got his own solo-movie, then a sequel and over the years, they had established more and more heroes in this universe. Jason was so incredibly proud of it, not just because he played the hero who started it all, but because he was also creatively involved; he had pitched the character of Theseus.

Sitting down on the couch, he let his eyes wander just a little. A poster of his first big breakout role as Jace Herondale in a TV show adaptation of The Mortal Instruments... naturally, Percy had chosen the poster where Jason posed shirtless, showing off the runes.

"What do you want to be when you grow up?", asked Jason softly.

"I wanna take over granny's bakery", declared Jackson with a puffed-out chest. "I'll learn all of her recipes and become the best baker in all of New York."

"I dunno, dad. I'm nine", huffed Grace with a pointed look. "Maybe I'll become a great fashion designer like auntie Silena! Or a teacher like auntie Annabeth. Or president. Or astronaut. Oh! Or doctor."

"Okay, okay", Jason interrupted her, laughing. "But neither of you wants to become a superhero like your dads?"

The twins exchanged a silent look before shaking their heads and Jackson answered. "No. It looks scary. It looks cool to watch but I'd be super scared."

Jason nodded slowly. "But if Gracie was in danger, like really, really scary danger, what would you do?"

"I'd help her!", exclaimed Jackson immediately, grabbing his sister's hand.

The smile on Jason's lips grew some. "Being a hero is really, really scary and really, really dangerous. And I never-ever wanted to be a hero. I'm not as brave as your dads when it comes to that. But when there is something very big and dangerous that your dads can't handle on their own, I'll put my own fears aside. Because you know what is just... so much scarier than being a hero? It'd be if something happened to your dads. And I couldn't help."

He knew their kids were under no illusions; they knew Nico and Percy led dangerous lives and they knew something could happen to them. Nico had already been hospitalized for a longer period of time a few years ago.

"So when they really need me, I'll be very brave to help them."

"So... So this is really real?", asked Grace softly, holding up the comic-book.

Jason snorted a little at the extremely overdone hero-pose he was striking on the cover. "It's... more or less real. There's some... made-up stuff there, because those who write these comics, they only had the news coverage to go by, they weren't actually there when we met in private and planned and talked. But yes, that happened."

Jackson straightened up at that and took the comic from his sister to open it on the last page, putting it down on Jason's lap and very decidedly pointing at the To Be Continued in the lower corner.

"How's it end!?", asked Jackson eagerly. "We don't wanna wait!"

"Ye--es! Did you save the day? Did you rescue daddy when he got abducted by the alien octopus?", wanted Grace to know, eyes large.

Laughing to himself, Jason leaned back against the couch and opened his arms, both his kids immediately snuggling up to him and eagerly awaiting the story. Jason wasn't the greatest story-teller in the family, Piper was the author, but he did his best to actually tell the story as exciting as possible. He talked and talked for over an hour and by the end of the story, both twins were deep asleep. Asleep on him, not giving him a chance to move from the couch either. Though he was tired too, so he closed his eyes, just for a second.

"I'm de--ead", groaned Percy softly and something shifted.

Jason blinked sleepily, turning his head toward the source of the voice. His face lit up when he saw Percy snuggled up to Grace from behind. When he turned toward his other side, he saw Nico behind Jackson.

"I'm sorry we were both gone, amore", whispered Nico as he leaned over to kiss Jason sweetly. "It was an all-hands-on-deck situation..."

"You don't have to explain", Jason smiled faintly. "You're the leaders of the Olympians. They rely on you. Especially now with all the newbies, they need your guidance."

"Yeah, but we promised you we'd step back some", Percy sighed frustrated.

"You can't control when a weird Canadian wants to start the robot- apocalypse", Jason chuckled amused. "I'm proud of you both. And you have been stepping back a lot."

Percy hummed in agreement, eyes slowly closing as he rested his head on Jason's shoulder. Within moments, he was out cold. So the entire family was going to sleep on the couch today, mh?

"How did your meeting go?", asked Nico, sounding sleepy.

"Good. I mean. Really good. The studio is still so stubbornly thinking that female superheroes won't sell, but we finally pushed through. We got the Helen of Troy spin-off greenlit", replied Jason with a puffed out chest.

Nico smiled at him, kissing his cheek. "Good. I'm proud of you."

And then he yawned and snuggled closer to Jason. It filled Jason with warmth to just sit here, with his husbands and children, in their home. Safe and happy. Yes, he worried for Nico and Percy when they were out there, but he also knew that this was their dream and they loved their job. And ever since the twins had been born, the two really had stepped back, leading from the headquarters and training new heroes, only going out themselves if it was an emergency and the others needed help. Jason couldn't be mad about that, wouldn't want to be either, because he could never resent his husbands for living their dream - they had, after all, always supported Jason and his dream. Even when Jason would be in another country for months filming a movie, they never complained, they took care of the kids and were proudly at his side during the premieres.

"I love you two", whispered Jason, carefully kissing the top of Nico's head on one of his shoulders and the top of Percy's head on the other. "My heroes."

#Jercico #Fic: The Legacy of the Big Three #Jason Grace #Fanfiction #Phoe's Tumblr Drabbles #mmmh does that count? yeha I guess

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oneofyatosfollowers · 3 years

Text

Unforgettable Taste

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28843653

Fanfiction: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13798454/1/Unforgettable-Taste

Gift for Poki!

Visiting her brother was always an interesting experience by Hiyori’s standards. Either he was on some sort of new “life purpose” or there was some event that she would never live down.

“I have to ask,” Hiyori said as she scanned the room, “what brought this on?” She gestured around Masaomi’s tiny living room. The space was filled with paper, fabric, and various photos of flowers.

“Wedding planning is a real profession!” Masaomi shouted from beside an attempt at a wedding dress. Hiyori set her bags down and the door and made her way into the new, yet familiar, mess. This was a classic greeting for them and she would rather learn about what she was in for than put her bags away.

“I didn’t mean it like that,” Hiyori tip-toed around fallen objects and papers, straightening up as she went. Masaomi sighed and picked the pins out of his mouth.

“I know, I know. I just think this is the one this time! I’ll make sure it’s stable before telling our parents but I can already hear mother’s disapproval.” Masaomi complained as he swept her up in a hug. They groaned as they squeezed then pulled back to share a smile.

“Are you going to answer my question?” Hiyori quirked a brow.

“Ah, yes!” Masaomi took a couple of steps back so he was in the center of the chaos. With a wide grin he threw his arms out to show off the room.

“I’m taking over my friend’s failing business!” Masaomi’s proud declaration was met with silence. Stopping the shout of outrage in its tracks, Hiyori held her breath. Her brother has had some less-than-intelligent ideas in the past. Ideas that have left him broke or in more trouble than he started. It wasn’t so much that her brother was too trusting, actually the man was quite smart, but he tended to throw caution to the wind all for the sake of adventure.

“Masaomi,” Hiyori started. Her brother flinched as he watched her fists curl at her sides.

“It’s okay he’s still helping me! In fact he does the majority,” Masaomi quickly explained, “We’re co-owners and I’m his apprentice now. I mostly handle the books, you know?”

“If you handle the books you clearly know how badly it’s failing! It’s one thing if you think you found your calling and you try a new thing. It’s another to offer to take over said business!” Hiyori tried her best not to growl, her glare was sufficient enough.

“I offered! Besides, the only reason it’s failing is cause he’s decided to settle down here and being a wedding planner means traveling! He’s really good at it and he’ll teach me all he knows! I’ll be able to travel while he stays here to be the pâtissière and the business will be back on track! It’s a win-win!” Masaomi said. He put his hands together in a pleasing way and Hiyori breathed through her nose. She had to admit it sounded a bit better but not quite.

“Doesn’t that sound fishy to you? The business is failing just as he decides to settle down and be a baker? And if he is teaching you then why isn’t he here?”

“He’s a pâtissière,” Masaomi groaned, “He teaches me after work. See, he used to do the whole shabang: the phone calls, the planning, all the designing, and the food making! But while he was studying abroad he picked up a kid! Now he has to stay in one place so the kid could go to school. Originally, he was going to ditch the business and open a sweets shop, but his friends in town own a bakery so he started working for them.”

“He ‘picked up’ a kid?” Hiyori stopped at that, “how old is he?”

“He’s my age! Actually, we went to college together. Do you remember Yato?” Masaomi asked. Now that Hiyori calmed down, he went back to work on the dress as she unconsciously returned to tidying the room.

“Yato? I don’t think so?”

“Yeah! He came over for my birthday that one time, he wore all black and kinda kept to himself,” Masaomi waved his hand, “long hair, blue eyes.” Her brother hummed as he tried to think of more things to jog her memory but she already had the face in mind. The name certainly didn’t sound familiar, but there was only one person at that party- in fact he was probably the first person she had ever seen- with blue eyes. Yato had been quiet, staying with the group and only really speaking when spoken too. She remembered thinking he was nice. Most of the guys Masaomi brought over barely said hi to her before partying. Yato had greeted her and was very polite when she was around, apologising for the noise and asking her thoughts on things.

“Really? He became a wedding planner?” Hiyori was shocked to say the least.

“Yeah, he’s a great artist and was always able to mend everyone’s clothes. He majored in design with a minor in fashion and started the business right after we graduated. Since cake designing was a step from clothing, he went to France and studied to become a pâtissière. But since he brought the kid back,” Masaomi trailed off and Hiyori was reminded of the other issue.

“S-still! Even if he has a business that he’s good at, he’s rather young to have a kid, no?” Even as she said it, Hiyori knew her argument was rather weak. Her brother was old enough to have a kid, and while a bit soon, it wasn’t unheard of. From the smile on Masaomi’s face, he shared her thinking. He let her stew for a moment longer before returning to the dress.

“Actually, he adopted a young teen.”

“A teenager?” Hiyori parroted.

“Yeah, his name’s Yukine,” Masaomi informed, “he was a bit troubled in the beginning but now he’s as sweet as the treats Yato makes. I can’t get either of them to tell me the story as to why Yato took him in. They won’t tell anyone.”

“Huh,” Hiyori hummed. She could imagine what moving to another country must do to a teenager, especially with some random new guardian. The whole situation was starting to make sense and she felt a bit bad from jumping to such a negative conclusion.

“You know, you’ll probably be able to meet him soon. Yukine is supposed to deliver Yato’s samples for this client’s wedding cake soon.” Masaomi said. Hiyori hummed and looked around the much-cleaner room. How her brother was expecting to have clients over with this sort of mess was beyond her but he probably knew she would pick up. Besides, she did enough meddling today.

“Well, let me know what time they come so-” Hiyori’s sentence was cut off by a door bell. Together the siblings looked toward the door. By the time Hiyori whipped her head around to glare at her brother, Masaomi already had a sheepish expression. The younger Iki stuck her nose in the air and stalked toward the front door. Hopefully she would be able to distract the newlyweds while her brother tidied more. The front door opened with ease, Hiyori looking straight ahead to see a blue bike at the end of the walk way. A bright tuft of blonde hair brought her attention down.

“Hey Masaomi, I got the cup cakes for you,” the boy spoke, “Yato said he would be by later than usual since Kofuku burnt the croissants again. He wants me to take pictures of your progress.” She couldn’t see his face as he rifled through a cooler on his hip but he seemed smaller than a teen. Though his voice definitely held that disinterested drawl. Once he gathered three square, plastic containers on top of each other and held them out, Hiyori was able to see his face. The boy startled when he saw her, someone clearly not her brother, and his mouth opened. Hiyori watched his fair skin bloom pink under his freckled cheeks while light-colored eyes flickered to the number on the house and back.

“Hi, I’m Hiyori,” she took the cup cakes, “Masaomi is my brother. You must be Yukine?” Hiyori smiled politely at him.

“Yes, um, nice to meet you,” Yukine offered, much more shy than when he thought he was talking to Masaomi. Hiyori’s smile stayed on her face as she watched him shift from foot to foot. He had on a bright pink polo shirt with a fancy ‘K’ stitched onto his breast with his name under it in a different font. It was only when he looked behind her, that Hiyori remembered the end of his greeting.

“Oh!” Hiyori stepped aside, “Please come in!” She let Yukine enter her brother’s two bedroom home before closing the door. He gave her a quick thank you and made his way to Masaomi’s workroom, clearly knowing where to go.

“Yukine! You made it! And I see you met my dear little sister.” Masomi left his dress to beam at the kid. He returned the smile with a dampered one before pulling out a camera to take pictures of the dress. Hiyori took a seat and watched Masaomi communicate happily with Yukine. He asked how his summer was going and his friends, Yukine answered easily while doing his work. Normally, Hiyori was embarrassed by how excitable her brother was but Yukine handled it without batting an eye. They must work together often.

“Oh! That’s them!” Masaomi looked at the clock and tsked, “They’re early.” He quickly scrambled to make the dress look presentable. Yukine put the camera away and closed the cooler, walking towards the back of the house. Quickly getting to her feet, Hiyori tried to see where Yukine was going but Masaomi running around made it difficult. Hiyori stumbled over the rest of the objects on the floor and side stepped a frantic brother to follow after him. It really was incredible how easily Yukine was able to walk across the room and avoid the chaos.

“Uh, Yukine?” Hiyori stopped him in the kitchen. The blonde looked at her confused, then embarrassed.

“When there are customers I just go through the back door,” Yukine said. With a sheepish smile, Yukine pointed to the back door. They heard Masaomi greet the happy couple. Sharing a look, the two were out of her brother’s house. Before she could follow the length of the wall, Yukine caught her attention.

“This way,” Yukine flapped his hand. Giggling, Hiyori followed him to a hole in the bushes and through the neighbor’s yard.

“He has windows all along the side of his house,” Yukine explained, “you don’t want clients to think that we’re stealing.”

“Sounds like you speak from experience,” Hiyori laughed. The teen rolled his eyes and scoffed.

“You have no idea. Yato doesn’t like me walking home late and would try to make me stay here until he was done. If I tried to escape by the windows, he would catch me every time.” Yukine said. He didn’t see the way Hiyori’s face scrunched at the thought of having to escape someone who wouldn’t let him go home. She remembered Yato, always dressed in black, with a bruise or two, and hoped Yukine didn’t always feel the need to hide.

“I’m sure he was just worried,” Hiyori tried. Yukine straightened up as they reached his bike.

“He’s always worried! He’s like a mother hen,” Yukine said with puffed out red cheeks. In spite of herself, Hiyori let out a snort, smiling at the thought.

“That’s good though,” Hiyori said. Yukine sighed and grumbled out a response, kicking up his kickstand but not getting on. At the same time, their stomachs growled.

“It looks like he’s gonna be awhile. Do you want to come over for lunch?” Yukine offered. He watched her perk up at the offer.

“Oh, uh I don’t want to impose,” Hiyori trailed off.

“You’re not! It’s a bakery afterall, we have sandwiches and stuff,” Yukine insisted. With that, Hiyori agreed and let the teen lead the way. They walked down the hill towards town, Yukine pushing his bike with Hiyori on his other side. She noticed the bike had silver snowflakes on it, similar to the designs she saw on one of Masaomi’s papers. The thought made her smile.

“So, Yukine,” Hiyori started, “my brother told me a little about you but he tends to embellish.”

“Oh, what did you hear?”

“Umm,” Hiyori tried to think of where to start, “you were adopted by Yato while he was abroad?” She noticed the way Yukine tensed and quieted. That bad feeling came back and Hiyori readied herself to defend the child once she saw Yato again. But instead, Yukine looked ahead with a soft smile.

“Yeah, I was. I lived in France with my family but my mom was from here, so she taught my sister and I the language. I used to hang around the college where Yato was studying cause that’s where my sister used to go. Once he found out I could understand him, he would give me pasties in exchange for me basically being his translator slash teacher. After school I would go to his house and he would make me what he learned that day or let me taste his homework. By the time he was interning, I was living with him.” Yukine spoke fondly, but his tone conveyed that there was sorrow.

“That’s really sweet. But what about your parents?” She remembered Masaomi mentioned Yukine was rather rebellious and why would they let some random student adopt him and take him far away?

“They’re both- out of the picture,” Yukine watched his feet, “and my sister met some guy in her first year and I haven’t heard from her since.” They were silent as Hiyori hummed and bit her lip. She pried too much and felt sorry for bringing up bad memories.

“Well lucky you, you were scooped up by a baker. I’m sure helping him with his homework was fun,” she smiled when Yukine huffed a laugh, “and you like it here, don’t you?”

“Yeah, I do. I knew enough about this culture. I just had to get used to all the new people and a new home. There were some other things but Yato helped me through them so I’m good now.”

“O-oh! That’s good, I’m glad!” Hiyori said. The bakery was coming up on the right, a square pink building with the name ‘Kofuku’s’ in calligraphy on the front. Yukine walked her up to the back of the store and chained his bike. They approached the medal door just as the building shook with a large boom and a crash. Frozen, they stared at the door with Yukine’s hand still on the handle. Only when he sighed, a loud noise over the shouting from inside, did Hiyori turn her focus onto him.

“It’s a little hectic inside. The owner is clumsy and tends to cause disasters in the kitchen. The mess from this morning was supposed to be cleaned, but who knows. Please excuse it.” Yukine said, his voice exasperated. Before Hiyori could respond, Yukine pushed the door in and entered, leaving Hiyori to cough through a cloud of smoke.

“Kofuku, why, why, why?” Someone weeped, “I told you to stay out of the kitchen! Look at them, my creations are ruined!”

“It’s not my fault! I finished cleaning your cooking sheets and I wanted to bring them to you! But when I passed by the oven I saw the same pies were in the oven and I thought they would cook faster if I turned up the heat.” A tiny woman with curly pink hair tried to hide her giggles behind a hand as she attempted to placate a young man on the floor. He was on his knees with his head down, holding an oven rack with five mini burnt circles.

“Chocolate Chess Pie needs to bake for 25 minutes before I lightly spray the tops with my home-made syrup and put them back in for 45 minutes so that I can spray them again,” the man raised his head, “I can’t spray these again!” He wailed. The young woman laughed and went over to clean his face with a rag. From Hiyori’s side, Yukine scoffed in disgust and went in to put his cooler away. Behind Yukine, a large man came from the front of the store and looked at the two on the floor with an eye roll. He wore a pink shirt that matched Yukine’s with the name Daikoku stitched on and light khakis. The man had slick back brown hair and brown eyes with peach fuzz. With a swift motion, he took the rack from off the floor and let the burnt pies slide into the trash.

“Yukine, you finish your deliveries?” Daikoku asked.

“Yeah!” Yukine said, “oh, and also I brought-” A loud timer rang throughout the kitchen and the young man, now with a clean face, shot up off the floor.

“Ah! My ham and cheese puff pastry slab pie!” He effused. Hiyori flinched when a whirlwind of white came barreling at her. That’s when she was finally noticed and the man came to a screeching halt. Letting out a squeak, Hiyori stepped back when he stopped nearly two inches from her nose and stared with wide eyes. They were just as blue as she remembered. But his face had changed, the narrow eyes fit better on a face with a sharp jawline and strong chin, lacking any baby fat. His hair also grew an inch or two since they talked, brushing over his ears and eyes.

“You’re,” Yato’s eyes widened, “Masaomi’s sister! Hiyori!” She was shocked he remembered her- when she didn’t- but the thought spread warmth throughout her body.

“H-hey, Yato. It’s been a while,” Hiyori smiled. He stepped back and they let out a breath of air, grinning at each other like idiots. Neither of them noticed the room watching them closely, the men turning pink from second-hand embarrassment while the young woman grinned.

“Ooo,” the young woman slithered between them and smirked, “My name’s Kofuku, I’ve heard about you from Masaomi. But I didn’t know you were friends with Yatty! What are the chances, huh?” Her eyes flickered to Yato and he looked to the side. When Kofuku turned that sly face on her, Hiyori felt her face warm up as well.

“Ah, yes, well, I only talked to him once at a party for Masaomi. I’m surprised to find him here as a baker, giving his company to my brother no less.” Hiyori gave a light laugh while Kofuku hummed.

“I’m a pâtissière,” Yato groaned.

“You’re a pain in the rear, is what you are,” Diakoku called in from the front. It was Yato’s words that caught Hiyori’s attention and she spun around.

“Ah, what about your-” Hiyori began. Luckily, instead of another smoking oven, Hiyori saw Yukine had already removed Yato’s creations and was munching on one as they spoke. The treats were a thin strip of bright golden brown with a fluffy exterior and a cheesy interior. Hiyori felt her mouth water involuntarily as they reminded her how hungry she was.

“Do you want some?” Yato spoke close to her ear. Hiyori yelped and looked at his grin with red-tipped ears. They looked at each other for a moment before Hiyori remembered he asked her a question.

“Oh! Uh, no, I couldn’t, they’re for the customers after all.”

“Customers?” Yato tilted his head, “Those aren't for sale. That’s just our brunch!” He laughed and moved aside so she could have a clear view of Yukine and Kofuku munching on the food. Even Daikoku dipped in to grab three before returning to the front desk.

“Well, if it’s okay with you,” Hiyori said. Despite her best attempts at tact, Hiyori’s feet were already leading her to the delicious smell.

“Yattsh foom ish always sho yummy,” Kofuku said around a mouthful. Hiyori hummed amusingly as she picked one up. She looked to Yukine- who had a bit more self control than Kofuku- munching on his second one. The only opinion he had was the pleasurable hum he let out once he bit into it, his eyes still closed to focus on the taste. Just to make sure, Hiyori glanced at Yato only to find him staring at her with an even bigger grin.

“Eh?” Yato coaxed. His eyebrows went up and he tilted his head towards the pan while keeping his gaze on her. Hiyori couldn’t help but snort and roll her eyes, picking one up. The pastry was just as fluffy as it looked. Her teeth sunk into it easily and warmth spread across her tongue. It was easy to let out a moan that didn’t have her embarrassed until after her third bite. A string of cheese stretched from her mouth to the food and Hiyori caught Yato’s eye over it. It took her more time than she’d like to chew and swallow the bite; Yato’s intense look made it difficult.

“So,” Yato smiled, “you like it?”

‘Do I like it?’ Hiyoti found that question haunting her for the rest of the day. Her time at the bakery was so fun she ended up staying well past closing. Throughout that time, Hiyoi found that she had been stuffed to the brim with food. Turns out Daikoku was also a baker, sticking primarily to breads, while Yato handled the pastries. They had a bread competition with Hiyori as the impartial judge, since Kofuku always voted for her husband and Yukine voted for his whiny guardian.

She had to admit, the local baker knew what he was doing. Unfortunately, Yato’s wounded pride caused him to present her with desserts to try, each more extravagant than the last. He even presented some new ones that no one but him had even heard of. In a single night, Yato’s pastries took her around the world, each absolutely delicious. Yet no matter how much food they gave her, that first bite was the one she couldn’t forget.

Did she like it? What kind of question was that? Hiyori found herself obsessed. Now she laid in bed, glaring at the morning sun on her ceiling, hungry for one thing. Frustrated, Hiyori threw off the covers and put on her slippers. She went down the stairs with a bit more force than necessary and searched the kitchen with a discerning eye. The sound of her stomping brought Masaomi out of his work space. He gave her a quirk of an eyebrow from over his mug.

“Were we too loud last night?” He took a guess. Hiyori sighed, she must have looked like she didn’t get much sleep last night, scowling with messy hair. Yato walked her home once she decided to leave -since he promised to meet with Masaomi anyway- and to make sure she didn’t get lost. They separated soon after walking through the door, Yato smiling and waving as she walked up the stairs. No they weren’t too loud last night, in fact she couldn’t hear them at all once she shut her door. The thing preventing her from sleeping was the thought of Yato being just downstairs. She would have done anything for a snack before bed with a cup of tea. And maybe to ask Yato about his time in France, his work, his kid, or his personal life.

“No,” Hiyori mumbled. She glared at the floor for a bit before smoothing out her brow and looking back at her brother. He was grinning at her, wide and knowing, it brought red to her cheeks. He said nothing as he walked towards the counter and set his cup down with a clink.

“You know,” he started, “the bakery opened at eight. We can go have breakfast if you want to.” Masaomi said nonchalantly. A zip of excitement shot up Hiyori’s spine and hit her heart. Immediately, the thought of a fluffy pastry held out by a blue-eyed man came to mind and Hiyori had to fight a smile.

“Would he even be awake?” Hiyori jolted when her brother smiled wider, “Th-they! Are they, anyone, awake?”

“Seeing as the store is open, I imagine someone would be awake. But if you’re asking about a specific business partner of mine, he’s usually with Daikoku in the kitchen by seven.” Masaomi finished his cup and left it in the sink, walking past a flustered sister stating he would be getting dressed and heading over there. Hiyori refused to look up from the floor until her brother was safely in his room upstairs.

The Iki siblings didn’t talk on their walk to Kofuku’s, the smile on Masaomi’s face hadn’t gone away and Hiyori wouldn’t look at him until it did. The front of Kofuku’s Bakery was small and cute, its windows covered in children’s doodles and some local flyers. A bell rang welcoming them inside, Hiyori walked across a black and white checkered floor up to two large glass containers stacked with pastries of all kinds. The familiar sight almost made her full but her stomach quickly reminded her otherwise. Kofuku was alone behind the counter, chewing on a cinnamon roll. She perked up when she saw them outside, trying her best to swallow the food in her cheeks while waving them in.

“Good morning you two!” Kofuku greeted, cheerily. Her words caught the attention of the people eating their breakfast at the small wooden tables.

“Morning Kofuku,” Masaomi smiled, “Is Yato here?”

“Oohohoh! Yatty huh?” Kofuku’s eyes slid to Hiyori and back, “For you or?” They stalled as Hiyori tensed only to burst into laughter.

“We’re only teasing Hiyori,” Masaomi said, trying to ease his sister’s wrath.

“You might be, Massi,” Kofuku winked. They shared another laugh as Hiyori’s body temperature rose. Eventually Kofuku took pity on her and reached her hand out.

“Yatty’s in the back, you’re welcome to go. Just be super careful of the hot ovens,” Kofuku smiled and gestured towards the kitchen door. Unable to say anything, Hiyori just shut her mouth and walked to the door, turning her nose up at the snickers behind her.

When the door pushed open, a warm waft of air hit her carrying the scent of fresh bread. To the left, Daikoku was hard at work in front of an old stone oven, moving around loafs with a large wooden spatula. His hair was held back by a white rag tied around his head, sweat beaded his brow and the exposed arms under his rolled up chef sleeves. As a closet wrestling fan, Hiyori could appreciate the image, but she was looking for something else. Off to her right was a tray of various shaped pastries, Yato leaning over them with a tube of frosting. It wasn’t until he looked up with big blue eyes, frosting smeared across his nose, that Hiyori felt that something jolt her heart.

“Hiyori!” Yato beamed.

“Hello Yato, Daikoku,” Hiyori greeted as she walked in. Daikoku waved to her before focusing his attention back to his bread. Yato stood as she went over to him, watching her admire the colorful baking sheets on the table.

“Classic fruit and cream cheese pastries,” Yato said, “Try one!” He smiled at her when she hummed. It would be impolite to decline, especially when she was so hungry and they looked so delicious. She plucked a blueberry one off the paper and took a bite, moaning her appreciation through her teeth. Next to her, Yato swallowed, mouth suddenly very dry.

“You like it?” He gurgled out with a cough.

“Mmm mm!” Hiyori hummed with a smile. Blinking once, Yato laughed good naturedly.

“Well good! I’m glad!” He grinned.

“Hiyori! I’m heading out!” Masaomi called from behind the door.

“Okay!” Hiyori replied.

“Yato, don’t touch my sister! Or do anything weird to her!” Masaomi’s voice echoed throughout the bakery, “if you do I’ll mix some of your salt and sugar jars without telling you and when you least expect it!” Masaomi’s threat did its job. From beside a bright-faced Hiyori, Yato gasped like he found out his father was Darth Vader.

“No! Why would you even think of something so awful!” Yato scurried to the pantry, trying to hide all his baking needs behind boxes of cereal. Daikoku sighed and shook his head, coming over to pat the young woman on the shoulder as her brother cackled and Yato mumbled consperiousys. Daikoku left the kitchen, only to poke his head in and announce Masaomi was gone and that he wouldn’t be allowed to mess with the bakers’ ingredients.

With Hiyori’s gentle coaxing, Yato finally finished with the frosting. At some point, he went into a long winded commentary of how he made the frosting and why he cut the fruit the way he did. Hiyori smiled throughout his entire explanation, listening to every word. Tips and tricks on cooking were always interesting. But the way Yato talked about his craft, so passionate and excited, there was no way she couldn’t listen. As they moved on to wrapping each treat in plastic, Yato asked her about her life. Things she did, things she liked or didn’t, her friends. It was then Hiyori realised that he was just as invested in what she had to say as she was. It was nice.

“So, where’s Yukine?” Hiyori asked.

“Probably still in bed like the teenager he is,” Yato huffed, “Sundays are his one day off from both work and prep school. But he’ll probably help out later anyway.”

“That’s sweet,” Hiyori said, genuinely.

“Yeah. Just in time for the croissants.” Yato looked fondly towards one of the ovens but Hiyori had a feeling he wasn’t smiling at the pastries.

“Are they his favorite?”

“No, but they remind him of home so I make sure to keep them stocked. Kofuku burnt yesterday's entire batch so I had to stay late to re-make them.” Yato spoke as he gathered the wrapped treats. Hiyori hummed in response, touched by the notion. The man got up early to work, stayed late with her brother, then continued making food for the next day. Kofuku perked up when they both pushed through the kitchen door.

“Aw, thank you Hiyori!” Kofuku said.

“You’re welcome!” Hiyori answered. She was lucky her voice didn’t crack when Yato took the rest of the pastries out of her arms. His fingers brushed against her and Hiyori realized just how good sugar and bread can smell. Luckily, Hiyori’s phone rang and she was able to excuse herself from looking at Yato’s backside and Kofuku’s smirk to sit at a table by the window. Her phone told her it was her co-worker and highschool friend, Yama. They greeted each other cheerily, Hiyori trying to keep her voice down while Yama only increased in volume. Through her friend’s squealing, Hiyori could make out that Yama’s high school sweetheart proposed to her.

“Yama! That’s amazing! Congratulations!” Hiyori gushed. She looked around to see if she was disturbing anyone, only to catch Yato staring at her from behind the counter. He snapped out of it when Kofuku jabbed his side and gave her an awkward wave. Hiyori choked back a laugh and gave a light wave back. Yama asked her what was so funny as Hiyori watched him scurry back into the kitchen. As the door shut behind him, a thought struck her.

“Hey, I know this is premature, but you’re going to need a wedding planner, right?”

“Ah! You’re right I will! Why, you have someone in mind?”

“Well my brother got a new job,” Hiyori continued before her friend could groan, “but it wouldn’t be him doing it! My brother would just be helping cause he’s in training! At the very least, I can vogue for the pâtissière.”

“The what?”

“The cake!” Hiyori giggled, “the baker?” She sent a silent apology to Yato as her friend hummed in understanding. There were a couple beats of quiet and Hiyori worried her bottom lip between her teeth.

“Let me guess, it’s one of Masaomi’s friends?” Yama said without malice.

“One from college. Did I ever tell you about Yato?” Hiyori was shocked when Yama let out a sound that had Hiyori feeling embarrassed.

“The one with the blue eyes? Who was really polite and didn’t seem to fit in at all with Masaomi’s friends? With the bruises and battle scars? The one with really blue eyes, like he’s albino but not, that contrasted with his black hair-” Yama stopped when Hiyori hissed out gibberish. Steam from her burning face seeped through the phone as she recalled her words from highschool.

“Yeah I remember him,” Yama finally relented, “he’s the only one you talked about when Ami and I asked you if there were any cute guys there. Knowing you, you probably forgot.” She could practically hear the grin in Yama’s voice when Hiyori couldn’t produce a rebuttal. Her friend reminded her of a certain pink-haired bakery owner.

“Well he’s a wedding planner, dress maker, and pâtissière. I’m sure he would be willing to work if you needed it, but it’s just a suggestion.” Hiyori said primly. The friends dissolved into giggles, giddy on the thought of a wedding.

“But seriously Hiyori. I’ll think about it but the wedding won’t be for a while! We’re sticking to the plan of Ami being my maid of honor, me being your MOH, and you being Ami’s. She’s still seeing that guy from her micro-bio class so you’re the only one left! Take the time before my big day to smooze that cake guy so you can bring him as a date! Maybe even get me a discount!” Yama’s declaration had Hiyori sputtering.

“A year to what? Yama, please, he’s just Masaomi’s business partner. I’m not-”

“Oh his partner, huh? That means you’ll be seeing him a lot while you stay there, right? How long are you there for anyway?”

“Well I packed for the month but my classes are online so, I mean,” Hiyori drifted off as she thought. She came here with the knowledge that she might stay past her vacation but med school was much easier when she had her textbooks with her. The idea of staying with her brother for the year just to talk to some guy was absurd. Not that Masaomi would mind. Plus her textbooks were only a couple hours away.

“Huuuggnn,” Yama purred through the receiver, “Do I hear someone considering it?”

“D-don’t be ridiculous!” Hiyori fought to keep her voice level but Yama knew her too well. Out of the corner of her eye, Hiyori saw Kofuku grin like she could hear every word.

“But you like him, don’t you?” Yama asked. She made it sound so easy. Like Yato was a classmate she saw every day for years rather than her brother’s friend she talked to for a couple days at most. Hiyori’s mouth worked for some excuse, some reason the idea was absurd, but all she could think of was she wouldn’t mind bringing Yato to the wedding. Yama would love him and he would make the day that much more fun. Even just going on a date with him was something she could get excited about. Hiyori was so lost in her thoughts that she didn’t see Yukine approach until he set down a plate of food in front of her.

“Oh, I didn’t order anything,” Hiyori said.

“It’s on the house,” Yukine replied.

“Huh? Is that him?” Yama asked, “Yato! Hey! Is that you?” Her voice was loud through the speaker and Yukine quirked his brow, the corner of his lip lifting.

“No! No it isn’t, Yama I have to go,” Hiyori spoke rapidly into her phone.

“Uh huh, sure. I bet it is-”

“Good bye!” Hiyori quickly shut her phone and turned to Yukine with a forced smile, hoping she didn’t scare the kid off. The last thing she wanted was him telling his guardian she was some weirdo that yelled over the phone. If Yukine thought that, or noticed her pink cheeks, he was nice enough not to comment. Instead to her surprise, Yukine sat down across from her with a plate of his own.

“Kofuku said to keep you company,” he mumbled.

“That’s okay! You don’t have to!” Hiyori waved her hands to try to help the equally embarrassed teenager.

“Eh, don’t worry about it. Sitting here talking to you is better than trying to help Yato in the kitchen.” Yukine didn’t mean anything by his words but Hiyori still couldn’t help but worry.

“Yukine,” Hiyori got his attention, “do you, um, I mean you get along with Yato, right?” She couldn’t help but lean in with a concerned expression, her feelings about Yato still twinged with minor doubt. The man didn’t seem mean in the slightest, but relationships between a teenager and an adult can be rocky. Especially when the said adult didn’t raise them. Besides, who knows what happens behind closed doors. Yukine jolted back and looked at her with wide eyes.

“We- of course I do! I mean we argue constantly but it doesn’t mean anything. He’s, I mean he, uh, kinda saved me.” Yukine’s words quieted towards the end as he spoke into his lap but Hiyori heard him all the same. She wanted to ask more, but Hiyori figured she pried too much already.

“Well good. You don’t have to talk about it if you don't want to. I just wanted to make sure he was treating you okay, that’s all,” Hiyori hunched her shoulders, “sorry, it’s really none of my business.” She looked up at the boy through her lashes, watching his mouth finally close.

“No! That’s okay! Actually I appreciate you asking. Some people just look away or don’t try to ask so, thank you,” Yukine spoke so honestly Hiyori couldn’t do anything but hum in reply. Whatever funk Yukine fell into, he quickly snapped out of it to munch on the food on his plate. It was only when he brought a very familiar cheesy pastry to his lips that Hiyori whipped her head down to her own plate. There, just as gold brown as she remembered, was the ham and cheese pastry she’s desired. Yukine looked up at her when she grabbed it much too quickly and took a large bite. Feeling caught, Hiyori covered her mouth and tried to swallow faster, putting the warm treat back down.

“You looked like you really liked it yesterday,” Yukine offered, “trust me, I know that face. Cooking happens to be that guy’s one talent and he’s really good at it. The best,” Yukine spoke around his own cheesy breakfast. They munched on their treats a little longer.

“I just wish he’d let me around the oven instead of freaking out.” Yukine rolled his eyes, but smiled goodnaturedly at Hiyori’s giggles. She long since finished her slice of pastry and she noticed Yukine was just about done with his.

“Um, Yato said he finished off a batch of croissants for you. I don’t know if you know,” Hiyori said. Yukine looked up at her with a funny expression.

“Yeah, I know. It was the first thing he made for me when I went over his house. I just walked in the door and he had a pan ready like ‘you were born here so you must like these!’ It was so stupid, that was the first time I actually yelled at him. But now he thinks they’re my favorite so he keeps making them for me and I keep eating them cause, you know,” Yukine was looking at the last bite in his hands, “They’re alright but I prefer the food from here. The stuff he makes for dinner or whatever. I don’t know, the things from home are just better, I think.” Yukine finished with a huff, shoving the rest of the pasty in his mouth. Hiyori felt her smile grow and her heart warm at the thought.

“I understand. The meals my mother makes will always hold a special place in my heart.” Hiyori smiled as Yukine choked and coughed in his hand.

“Yeah, uh,” Yukine’s eyes flickered towards the kitchen and back, “so, uh, how long are you in town?” His question seemingly came out of nowhere but Hiyori didn’t mind.

“For a while. At least a month.”

“So you’re just visiting,” Yukine tried his best to make it seem like he wasn’t prying.

“Well, it’s up in the air. I only came here to visit but there’s no reason I can’t stay a while. I don’t know, I haven’t decided.” Hiyori said. It was true, which was still crazy in itself, but the answer seemed to make Yukine more uncomfortable. His eyes flickered towards the kitchen a couple more times and Hiyori couldn’t help but look. She wouldn’t be surprised if Kofuku was still behind the counter with a teasing smirk but instead Hiyori saw the counter was empty. It was understandable, breakfast and brunch was just about finished and they probably had to prepare for the lunch rush.

“Are you sure it’s okay if you stay?” Yukine hesitated, “I mean don’t you need to go back to your friends, or your boyfriend?” The last word was forced out with as much nonchalance as a teenager could muster. He glared at the kitchen then smoothed his face out to look at Hiyori.

“No, I don’t live that far away and my friends are mostly busy so I can see them anytime. As for a boyfriend, I don’t have to worry about one of those,” Hiyori said. Yukine looked back from the kitchen and smiled.

“I see, that’s good then.” Yukine put on a smile. They chatted for a little while longer before Hiyori said she should check on her brother. Standing, Yukine cleared their plates, Hiyori tried reaching for her wallet.

“It’s on the house,” Yukine said.

“Oh no, that’s okay! You gave me so much already!”

“Nah, it’s cool. They give away so much I have no idea how they stay in business. I think Kofuku’s brother is rich? But, no, don’t worry about it. Everyone saw the way you looked at that ham and cheese puff pastry slab pie,” he paused when Hiyori made a face, “don’t worry. It happens a lot. You might as well get used to it if you’re going to stay a while. Once you get over one dish he’ll just make another, and keep feeding it to you until the process repeats.” Yukine sounded so done with the ordeal and Hiyori laughed. She was already thinking of a work out routine as Yukine waved her out of the bakery.

The door jingled as it shut, alerting Yato that Hiyori finally left. Really, he should have just gone out there and talked with them. But instead he panicked and made profiteroles, hoping they would pass as an award for Yukine. There was no way he could have known Kofuku would tell the kid to talk to Hiyori, but he wasn’t about to pass up the opportunity to gather information about the younger Iki. Yato remembered how sweet she was to him when they first met. How she smiled and listened to him when they chatted, giving him more attention in that moment than the entire party- save for Masaomi- gave him combined. But now he had his chance with the girl who didn’t seem to mind listening to his rambling.

The kitchen door pushed open and Yato quickly jumped to the sink only to find there were no dirty dishes. He grabbed a clean plate and got it wet, rubbing it in circles with a damp rag. Yukine walked in with their plates and placed them in the sink. Yato whirled on him so fast the kid flinched back, but his wide eyes quickly narrowed.

“How did it go?” Yato questioned. Shouldering him out of the way, Yukine got to work on the dishes, glaring down at them with a red face.

“She's single,” he gritted out, “and in town for a while.”

“Ah! That’s my boy! Good work!” Yato cheered. He grabbed the kid by his shoulders and shook him, smiling wider when Yukine’s blush stretched to his neck.

“That doesn’t mean anything you know!” Yukine pushed him off, “you actually have to talk to her! You can’t just feed her and have your kid go hang out with her!”

“Of course I can! Everyone knows the quickest way to a woman’s heart is with sweets and good parenting!” Yato sang, He easily dodged his kid’s attacks and Yukine went back to drying the dishes.

“So,” Yato spoke, “what do you think?”

“What do I think? About your chances?” Yukine scoffed despite catching on to Yato’s more serious tone.

“Do you like her?” Yato asked. Yukine stopped at the question before carefully putting the dried dishes away.

“She’s really nice.” Yukine said. That was enough for Yato, he smiled at the back of his kid and thought about a brown-haired med student. The front door rang and Yato’s head snapped towards the noise. Kofuku and Daikoku went to lunch so that was his cue.

“Okay! Make sure you finish your summer work! There’s croissants for you already in the toaster-oven!” Yato said as he disappeared through the door, leaving a smiling Yukine to fiddle with the toaster.

After a month or so, Masaomi and Yato’s clients were just about finished with their preparations. By now, Hiyori was aware that Yato worked fast, and with Masaomi’s help the wedding was ready to go in about two weeks. Hiyori stood in Masaomi’s kitchen, a large cookie tray covered with raw puff pastry dough, ham, and shredded cheese. Next to the pan, taped to the counter, was an index card Kofuku used to paint the titles of pastries in the casing. One side was the fun, colorful title of the puff pastry and on the back was Yato’s neat handwriting of the recipe. He had given it to her out of the blue, smile on his face as he insisted she take it just in case.

“It’s not like it’s a secret or anything!” He had said, “and I rather you use my delicious recipe than some naviance online.” They had grinned at each other like giddy fools, Hiyori thanking him profusely and laughing at his contagious laughter. She triple checked the recipe and it’s instructions before rolling up the pastry and brushing it with her egg mixture. Her brother’s regular oven would have to do as she slipped in her creation and shut the door; Hiyori set the timer for 25 minutes and waited. Feeling accomplished, Hiyori stretched her arms above her head, letting her pajamas rise above her belly button.

“You’re up early,” Masaomi said as he walked in. Hiyori whirled around and tried not to look guilty.

“Yep. I, uh, made breakfast!” Hiyori gestured to the oven. Her brother walked towards the tiny island and looked at the index card. He swiped it before she could grab it and scanned it over with a sly smirk.

“Made breakfast for who?” Masaomi held up the card, “this handwriting looks just like my notes.” His eyes looked her up and down as the blush on her cheeks darkened. Instead of looking at him, she glared at the evidence.

“He was nice enough to give it to me since I liked it so much. I made some for us and as a thank you I’m bringing the rest over to share with everyone.” Hiyori explained. The male hummed in an unconvinced way but said nothing more, making his way to the coffee maker.

“Is that right?” Masaomi drawled, “You got up with just enough time to finish by the time they got up to make the bread. Early, early.” Hiyori ignored how her fingers twitched. He sounded just like their mother. That tone conveying he knew she started this process at seven am, not including the prep she did last night.

“A coincidence,” Hiyori insisted. She ignored her brother’s second hum and started cleaning. There was a playfully-tense silence between them as dishes clinked together. Once she was finished, Hiyori made her way towards the stairs

“By the way, Yato should be staying late with me tonight just to go over everything again. He usually stays in the room you’re using,” the grin was wide, “if you felt like sharing.”

“Masaomi!”

As much as her brother teased, Hiyori really was nervous to let him try it. She knew Yato better in the days she spent doing her work in the bakery and Yato doing his work in the Iki home. She knew the professional would only applaud her efforts and that made her feel better. But her hands still grew sweaty as she stood at Kofuku’s back door with a container of this morning’s batch of ‘Yato’s Greatly-Fantastic Ham and Cheese Puff Pastry Slab Pie.’ Sucking in a deep breath, Hiyori chose to knock instead of opening the door. She’s never been here this early and- now that she thought about it- they were probably busy. Before Hiyori could retract her decision, the door creaked open to reveal Yukine, instead of Kofuku like she was expecting.

“Hiyori,” Yukine was clearly surprised, “good morning.”

“G-good morning, Yukine,” Hiyori greeted. He moved aside and let her in. She smiled at his school uniform and he adjusted his backpack with a self conscious smile. Daikoku was hard at work with several lumps of dough, tending to the fire in the oven every now and again. He waved to her, other hand covering a yawn. Hiyori waved back before her eyes automatically looked towards Yato’s workstation.

“Oh wow!” Hiyori gasped. Yato’s table was cleared to leave room for a tall, three-tier wedding cake. The pâtissière was creating bundles of roses against smooth white frosting. Hiyori knew that the wedding was themed ‘Romantic Pink’ so the buttercream flowers Yato made were different shades of pastel blush. The top was decorated with an edible pink bow that cascaded down the first tier while the bottom layer was covered in matching swiss dots. It was simple, elegant, and absolutely lovely for a wedding.

“Hey,” Yato poked out from behind the tower, “you’re here early. Not that I’m complaining.” He put the pastry bag down and gave her his full attention. Beside her, Yukine rolled his eyes and walked over to compare the cake to a sketch on the table.

“I, uh,” Hiyori turned her eyes to the floor as he approached. She felt Daikoku looking over his shoulder and Yukine peaking over the paper, watching the two communicate as best they could. She was used to this by now, they rarely had chances alone without people eavesdropping and teasing. But she found that as they talked more and more, it was easier to shut them out and be in their own little world. Yato’s smile was welcoming and his eyes were so warm, Hiyori was able to proudly hand him her container.

“I made the ham and cheese pastries!” Hiyori said. Eyes round, Yato’s face lit up.

“You did? Really? That’s amazing!” Yato rejoiced, “Can we have some now, please?” He practically wriggled at the thought, running to get some plates before Hiyori could answer.

“Oh, Hiyori made the breakfast thing! Nice!” Daikoku flashed her a smile that Hiyori couldn't help but return, “but wait, there’s not enough.” He looked over her slices as Yato got out the plates.

“Not enough?” Hiyori quickly ran the numbers, “There’s four of you, isn’t there?”

“No, there’s five!” Yato pouted. At first, Masaomi came to mind but Hiyori quickly noticed the boys were all looking at her.

“Wha- me? Oh, no, that’s okay! I made it for you guys!”

“But that’s no fun. What’s the point of eating your cooking if we can’t all enjoy it together?” Yato said. He looked genuinely hurt that she didn’t consider herself but Hiyori really didn’t think it was that big of a deal. Still, she was touched, he wanted to eat her food with her; and flattered he considered this easy dish ‘her cooking.’

“Please don’t worry about me! I just want to know what you think,” Hiyori said to Yato. His cheeks pinked and Daikoku covered whatever gag noise almost escaped Yukine’s mouth.

“I’ll love it, no matter what you make!” Yato’s sudden declaration made everyone’s faces match the red velvet cakes in the front. Hiyori couldn’t take it.

“I-I want to know all your opinions!” Hiyori shut her eyes and winced at the strangled sound that erupted from Yato. She opened her eyes when Yukine let out a loud sigh behind her, arms crossed.

“As- entertaining- as this has been, I have to get to school. So I won’t be able to give you feedback when I eat it.” Yukine said, “I’m sorry Hiyori.” The teen gave her a look of regret. Hiyori waved her hands, giving Yukine a comforting smile.

“Don’t worry about it, Yukine! You don’t have to eat it. School is important,” Hiyori said.

“But I do want to try what you make. I promise, whatever you make next time for sure.” Yukine smiled with his hands put together. He was already expecting her to make them something again, how sweet.

“Okay, sounds good.”

“And don’t worry about what that guy says, he gets excited over junk food.” Yukine huffed, “n-not that your food will be junk, or anything.”

“Thank you,” Hiyori giggled. They ignored Yato’s cries of defense of his various tastes. Straightening his tie, Yukine made his way towards the front exit.

“Don’t leave without breakfast!” Yato insisted, “you need that brain food!” He smiled as Yukine gritted his teeth at his guardian.

“I already grabbed a croissant!”

“Take two! You’ll be hungry!” Yato’s words went without a response, but Yukine grabbed another pastry without looking back. The adults let out a sigh of amusement as the front door jingled with Yukine’s exit.

“I’ll go get the missus then,” Daikoku said, “she’s a real demon in the morning.”

“Oh you don’t have to-” Hiyori tried to say. But Daikoku was out the door leading to their upstairs apartment. The kitchen was silent and Hiyori was made aware of the sudden alone time she had with Yato. She couldn’t bring herself to look at him just yet, the tense air picking up her heart rate and warming her cheeks.

“Do you want a fork?” Yato’s voice cracked.

“Huh?” Hiyori whipped around to look at him, shaky hands putting the pastries on the plates. Yato’s cheeks were flushed and he had a hard time looking at her. Swallowing, Yato pointed in a drawer.

“Forks?” He put on a crooked smile.

“Ah yes! Forks!” Hiyori perked up, “Yes I would like a fork, please. Thank you.” An awkward smile grew on her face as well, which only brightened the hue in her own cheeks. Yato was the first to sputter, blowing out a raspberry before snickering. He tried to cover his mouth, lips pressing together, but Hiyori’s snort had him cackling. Laughter bubbled up in her throat and soon she was leaning against Yato’s shoulder and wiping away tears. They bumped into each other as they raced to the counter, playfully pushing each other out of the way as they reached for a plate of food.

“Oooo, I’m gonna try it!” Yato sang. He waved the pastry towards his mouth like an airplane, grin splitting his face.

“You don’t get to try it if you’re just going to tease me!” Hiyori tried to grab it out of his hand, only for Yato to lean away from her.

“I’m not going to tease you! It’s really yummy, see?” Yato gave it a long sniff, “Mmm yummy!” He snickered as Hiyori let out another unattractive snort and shoved him.

“I’m serious!” Hiyori resisted the urge to stomp her foot as he smirked down at her.

“So am I,” Yato said. Their laughter died down as he put some space between them. Hiyori watched him bring the treat to his lips and bite. There were a couple beats of silence as Yato chewed, Hiyori biting her own lip while he tasted. Finally, Yato let out a pleasurable moan of his own. Hiyori’s body tensed.

“It’s delicious,” Yato praised, “three different cheese? you did it perfectly. Good job.” He spoke so honestly that Hiyori couldn’t help but believe him.

“Thank you,” she replied softly. They smiled at each other for a couple moments before Yato adopted a look of bashfulness.

“So, um, Hiyori,” Yato eyed the pastry in his hand, “you know your brother did a really good job on his friend’s wedding.”

“Wait, his friend’s wedding?” Hiyori asked. Yato blinked at her like she detailed his train of thought.

“Yeah, one of the guys from that party a while ago? Masaomi had just started helping me when he called your brother with the news. I figured it was a good chance for him to start, since the guy probably won’t get too mad if he screws up.” Yato explained. He watched her mouth open and close, then hum in understanding.

“I didn’t know that,” Hiyori told him. Now that she thought of it, that was much more reasonable than what her brother had explained to her. Leave it to Masaomi to exclude important details.

“Yeah, ha-ha,” Yato watched his thumbs dance with each other, “so, um, Masaomi and I are kinda already invited to the wedding as guests. But he’s gonna go as ‘the planner’ so I’ll just be a guest and I wanted to know if you wanted to go with me? Just to, you know, see how well your brother’s work goes and all.” Listening to his words was like riding on a rollercoaster. Some parts went fast while others were slow, the volume rising and falling. Once Hiyori separated his jumbled sentences steam rose from her head. In the midst of her embarrassment, Hiyori wanted to laugh. Here she was trying to convince herself to ask Yato to her friend's wedding only for the pâtissière to beat her to it. Still, she wasn’t going down without a fight. She had to push her burning face aside and look directly at his.

“On one condition,” Hiyori began.

“Yeah?” Yato’s eyebrows shot to his hairline.

“Regardless of whether or not my friend asks you to plan her wedding, you have to come with me as my date.” Hiyori said, her tone leaving no room for argument. Yato took a moment to close his mouth, his Adam's apple bobbing, then his face split into a wide smile.

“Are you kidding? For a second guaranteed date, I’ll plan your friend's wedding for free!” Yato laughed but Hiyori knew he was serious. Still, she laughed along with him, giddy at the fact he agreed.

“Maybe I’ll even have you help me make the food!” Yato proclaimed. Kofuku and Daikoku finally came out from their hiding spot behind the door, snickering at Hiyori who was adamantly refusing Yato’s suggestion, all while the baker teased. Both their faces just as pink as the roses on the wedding cake, or the ham in a homemade breakfast pastry.

#noragami #noragami yato #yato noragami #yatogami #yato god #yato #yatori #Hiyori Iki #iki hiyori #hiyori #yukine #noragami fanfic #noragami fanfiction #fanfic #fanfiction

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kindkindling · 3 years

Text

crying for help

fandom: the wayhaven chronicles

pairing: mason/nb detective (Billie Vale)

rating: T, swearing and vague mentions of sex

warnings: BOOK 3 DEMO SPOILERS.

words: ~2.6k

summary: The detective needs to work some things out, and Ava is there to help.

ao3

You up?

I am. Is something wrong, Detective?

If I come to the Warehouse, will you spar with me?

---

The detective came at Ava once more, but they had been at this for hours now and their fatigue was showing; she easily dodged the incoming blow and deftly swept her leg under theirs, tumbling them to the mat with a thump.

Ava watched solemnly as Billie lay still, their chest heaving, not having even broken a sweat herself.

Something was obviously wrong. Billie hadn't spoken a word since they began sparring — each attempt Ava made to figure out what the issue was had been rebuffed with a shake of their head and a silent prompt to make another move, exhaustion and determination equally evident in their narrowed eyes. After the third time, she gave up and resorted to critiquing their technique instead, correcting their form and motions.

Something was wrong, but there was only so much she could do about it if the detective was unwilling to share the details.

As Billie slowly pushed themself up on hands and knees, arms shaking and still chasing the breath they couldn't catch, Ava decided enough was enough.

"We'll stop here."

The detective, predictably, shook their head without looking up, even as their sweat dripped to the floor; but Ava's patience had worn thin. They were in no state to continue, and she suspected they knew it.

"Yes, we will," she growled. She marched to the bench and grabbed Billie's water; when she returned, they had at least moved to sit cross-legged, leaning back on their hands as they tried to breathe deep. She handed them the bottle and sat next to them, silently watching as they downed half of it in one go.

It was known amongst Unit Bravo that the detective would sometimes head to the station in the middle of the night to work, though what could possibly require that level of attention in this quiet little town was beyond Ava. Truthfully, she had initially been pleased enough to accept Billie's proposition — it was a simple task to adjust the patrol routes so that whoever was out could check to see where Billie was each night, but she would definitely prefer that they stay put, and there was nowhere safer for the detective than the Warehouse — but looking over them now, she would be hard pressed to say that sparring was the better option for them right now.

They looked worn, and not just from the training. Their short brown hair had grown shaggy and somewhat dull since the team started working with them, and the bags under their eyes were only becoming more prominent as time passed. Their body sagged like every burden that had been placed on them as of late was slowly sinking them into the earth with each step, yet they refused to set even one of them down.

Their dedication to their duty was admirable, but it was clearly taking its toll, and something needed to change.

Billie recapped the bottle when they finished and stared at the floor, steadfastly avoiding Ava's gaze. Finally, after a few moments of struggle, they managed to find their voice and gave a strained, raspy, "Thank you."

"Of course." Ava hesitated, then said, "Will you tell me now what is wrong?"

They let out a long sigh before shoving their glasses up into their hair and covering their face with their hands. "It's nothing, really. I just... My thoughts were a bit much to handle tonight. Usually I would go get some work done, but..."

"...It would be a poor idea given the current situation with the bounty?" Ava ventured. At Billie's nod, she continued. "I agree. There is no reason to put yourself in more danger than is necessary. Although," she leaned forward, "you must realize that wearing yourself ragged like this will not make you of much use come the morning."

"Heh," Billie huffed and fell backward, spreading their arms wide across the floor. "It'll be alright. This isn't far off from how I'd've felt if I'd stayed at the apartment, except I personally feel a bit more accomplished."

Ava frowned. "Can you not designate some of your duties to the other officers? You seem to have quite a lot on your plate, even without your responsibilities for the Agency."

"Not really," they hummed. "It's pretty much just me and Tina, and she's already got her fair share to deal with; there's nothing urgent enough to warrant pulling her from her own tasks. And it..." they seemed to stall out for a moment, chewing on the words, their narrow gaze turned to the ceiling. "If I didn't have the work to do, I would be stuck at the apartment, just spinning my wheels in the dark, worrying about this and that. So it's better this way, to be occupied."

Without giving her a chance to respond, Billie stood with a grunt and dusted off their clothes. "Anyway, thanks for your help tonight. I'll try not to bother you for it again," they said with a wry grin.

"Detective!" She barked. They flinched as they turned to leave, and Ava mentally cursed her tone as she rose to her feet. "My apologies, but you do realize you are not alone in any of this, don't you? You are a part of this team, and any one of us would aid you, should you ask."

Billie stared back at her incredulously, meeting her eyes for the first time this entire conversation, and Ava realized just how anxious they must have been to have asked to meet.

"What has you worried?" She asked softly.

They pressed their lips and folded their arms, shrinking into themself a bit, fingers tapping an aimless rhythm on their forearm as they seemed to consider answering. For a long moment, Ava thought they would lapse back into the silence that had taken them during their training, but they eventually sighed and spoke.

"There's a couple things," they chuckled humorlessly. "I know it was determined that... that Murphy isn't likely to come back any time soon. But that doesn't stop me from wondering about it when I hear my neighbors thumping around late at night, you know?"

Ava stepped forward to rest her hand firmly on Billie's shoulder. "The Agency is much better prepared now for any assaults from Murphy or supernaturals like him than they were before. And you have us watching over you as well; suffice to say, even should Murphy return, he will not succeed no matter what he may try."

"I know." They smiled, but it was stretched thin and tight, like they were close to cracking. "But unfortunately, knowing something isn't likely doesn't stop my feelings from going haywire."

"You are always welcome to stay here, if that would help," Ava offered. "You do have a room, after all. This space is as much yours as it is ours."

She felt Billie's shoulder tense under her hand at her words and heard their heartbeat stutter. Before she could make an inquiry, however, the words started pouring out of the detective like a waterfall.

"Ah, no, I think — I think I'll be alright, that won't be necessary, in fact I think it's getting to be pretty early, isn't it, gosh it really is, so I should probably head out actually, but, um, thanks again for all your help, I do appreciate it, genuinely —"

"Detective," Ava said, gently, and Billie's non-stop tirade puttered out like a hose shutting off, their gaze dropping to the floor.

"It's just, I — I don't think that's something I can do. For a while, not forever, just... just for now," they finished weakly.

Ava crossed her arms and considered this. "It would inarguably be safer for you to be here at night than at your apartment or the station. Are you sure?"

Billie drew back and their eyes met Ava's once more — any determination they had held before was gone now, and only the exhaustion remained. "It's for the best, I think."

Ava sighed. "I will not force it force it on you; our patrols should be sufficient regardless. But I cannot help but ask... have we done something to warrant your distrust?"

"Oh, no, no no no!" Billie exclaimed, their hands waving in the air almost comically. "Not at all! You're all terrific, no complaints here! It's — it's just, it's... me."

"It's you?" She cocked an eyebrow. "Even if you were not one of us, it is our job to protect you, Detective. Your blood puts us in no more danger —"

"Ugh, no, that's not what I mean," they groaned. Ava didn't think they could make themself any smaller, yet Billie somehow managed it. "It's... Can you promise not to tell the rest of the team about this? It's kind of personal."

"You have my word."

"I... I can't be around Mason right now," they mumbled.

"Mason?" Ava's eyes widened and narrowed in quick succession. "What did he do?"

"It's not what he did, it's more what I did... or what I made him think, I suppose, and now everything's changed, and I don't think I should be around him if I'm just going to keep on doing this..." Billie trailed off, hugging themself tightly.

"Start from the beginning, please."

They gave a deep sigh. "You remember when we left the Warehouse together the other day, right? When he escorted me to the station?" She nodded. "Well, we went to breakfast, and it was... nice. We had a — a moment, I guess you could say."

They turned their face away as if to hide their embarrassment, but it only made the flush on their ears more apparent; Ava might have found it humorous were the circumstances different, and she herself were not growing more uncomfortable with the direction of the story.

"But then Haley — you've met her, the baker at the square — she came over and said she didn't know I was... seeing anyone. Mason said that I — that I'm 'only seeing him naked. There's nothing else going on here.' And that was — it hurt, and I kind of... ran out on him."

Ava did her best to contain the longest suffering sigh that had ever threatened to escape her, and she thought she did a damn good job of it. Dealing with Mason's 'problems' had always been near the top of the list of Things She Has Been Forced to Deal With and Would Rather Delegate to Nat, but this was the first time that she could recall where the problem was not his callous nature, but his own brand of naivety.

She held up a hand as if to pause her own thoughts. "You made it sound as if this were your fault. How did you come to that conclusion?"

"It's because I'm a damn fool," they said, immediately and so full of conviction that Ava almost reeled. "I knew when we first started this that it didn't mean anything. That it was just fun, something to help keep my mind off how the world had turned upside down. And that was fine, I didn't want anything more, I didn't expect it, because I... I didn't let myself.

"I convinced myself at every turn that it was what I wanted, because it was what he wanted, and if I wanted something else, something... more, then we would have to stop, because that wouldn't be fair, not to either of us." Billie's eyes were gleaming as if they were fighting back tears, and Ava felt a pang in her heart at the sight. "And it looks like I did a good enough job, yeah? Because even if I didn't manage to stop myself from being an idiot, I've convinced Mason that I don't give a damn about him aside from his body. And that was the goal, wasn't it, to keep it as this casual thing?"

The tears won their fight and spilled over, but Billie kept on. "To hell with how he kept me from losing my mind when the Maa-alused attacked me in my apartment, right? And how he can keep me from spiraling further into a mess just by being in the same fucking room, that's a normal thing for a friend with benefits, isn't it? How I can look at him and just feel this, this resolve settle in my chest and straighten my spine, make me feel like I can do anything, just because this one person believes that I can?" They were yelling by the end, their hand over their heart, knees trembling, and Ava had to catch them as they collapsed from the exertion.

"I can't, Ava," they cried into her shirt, "I can't see him right now, I can't."

She held Billie close and let them wail, making small, calming noises as she tried to soothe them. It had been a long, long time since Ava had last done this for anyone, but it still seemed to do the trick; it took a while, but eventually their heaving breaths slowed and their cries turned to sniffles.

"Think you got it all out?" She asked.

Billie huffed as they withdrew from her grasp and straightened out their shirt. Their eyes were puffy and their cheeks ruddy, but their heartbeat was settling down. "Think so."

"Good. Are you willing to listen now?"

They nodded, wiping their eyes and moving their glasses back into place.

"You are right about one thing: you're a fool."

"Well, thanks for that, at least," they mumbled, their voice still raspy.

"Not for having these emotions, but for going through such convoluted leaps to convince yourself otherwise," Ava said. "Truly, it is dizzying trying to follow you."

That got a chuckle out of them, which she considered a success.

"And do you truly believe that Mason feels nothing for you in return?"

"I mean — I've thought, at times, that maybe..."

"I cannot speak for him, but I can say that, in all my years of knowing him and how he acts and how he treats those he engages with, I have never seen him treat any of them with the level of respect that he treats you."

Ava stood and held out a hand to help Billie up; as they stood next to her, she added, "And I have never seen him look at anyone the way he looks at you."

"Oh, Ava, please don't — please don't try to give me hope here, I don't think I can take it."

"That is not my intention," she said, using a hand to start pushing them toward the door. "I am merely giving you facts that you may not have been able to consider in all your astounding leaps of logic."

They gave Ava a small, genuine smile at the training room's entryway, their mood having finally lifted somewhat. "Thank you, Ava. Really."

"It is no issue," Ava said. "Now, go get your car ready."

"Huh?"

"You are in no state to drive yourself, so I will take you home. I would suggest calling in sick today, but of course that is up to your discretion."

"Oh no, Ava, you've done more than enough for me tonight, I can — "

"Go, Billie. I will be there momentarily."

Her tone left no room for discussion, so with a final resigned sigh, Billie conceded and walked off down the hallway. Ava watched until they turned the corner and took out their phone, dialing a number she knew by heart and speaking as soon as Nat picked up.

"Did you hear all of that?"

"I did, yes."

"You need to speak with Mason."

"I'm already on it."

#it's 2:30am take it away i'm done #i had a lot of Feelings so billie had to talk it out with someone who wasn't mason #fun fact: billie asked ava to spar bc they thought she wouldn't ask any questions and they could just bury it deep as always #JOKES ON YOU BUD #the wayhaven chronicles #twc #twc fic #twc a #ava du mortain #sea's OCs #twc spoilers #twc book 3 spoilers #book 3 demo spoilers #formatting is fixed now. whew that's better lol

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incidentreport31 · 3 years

Text

Episode 2 - Secure TRANSCRIPT

[You can listen to the show wherever you get your podcasts.

Recorder clicks on.

SFX of a mug being set down on a counter. Water pouring and then the clink of a spoon against ceramic. Then, an abrupt almost dropping of said mug as Zach begins to speak.

ZACH:

Tea? Really?

ARCHIVIST:

(stammering)Oh, hi, hello, can… can I help you…?

(beat)

ZACH:

You can help yourself by getting some coffee. Tea isn’t gonna do anything for you, you know. It won’t keep you going for the whole day. You’ve gotta get that good ole cup of joe to start your morning.

ARCHIVIST:

I’m… sorry?

ZACH:

You can’t tell me that you actually like that garbage, right? I mean what kind are you even making?

[shuffle as he grabs the box off the counter]

English Breakfast? Really? English? Compensating for being in the US are we?

ARCHIVIST:

(defensive for no reason beknown to the listener but painfully known to them) I happen to like it, actually but- no actually wait a minute, who are you? Do you work here?

ZACH:

(also defensive for previously explained reason) Yeah, I do. Do you?

ARCHIVIST:

Yes, indeed I do. I’m actually the head archivist. May I ask what in the hell you might do around here? Other than, of course, critique drink choices?

ZACH:

Oh. (beat) Oh you- (another beat) You’re the archivist?

ARCHIVIST:

(huffing out a breath) Quite right. Once again. What the hell do you do here?

ZACH:

Oh I’m Zach. Zach Baker. I’m sorry I didn’t realize you were… my… boss.

ARCHIVIST:

(hurried and with false confidence) Yes, of course. I’m Val West… your boss. Which means that I’m in charge here. Which then means you should… watch yourself in bothering me about these small things. Yes.

ZACH: It’s not my fault you have the worst taste in drinks-

ARCHIVIST:

(coughs to cut him off)

ZACH:

Well, you do. I’m just saying, okay? And- hold on, are you recording this?

ARCHIVIST: Hmm? Oh, yes I suppose I am.

ZACH:

Where’d that thing come from anyway? It looks ancient.

ARCHIVIST:

It is, from what I can tell. But Mr. Banks has instructed me to record all of my (said with distaste because the archivist is a dick to account givers) “little stories” into it. Apparently, silent reading does not do much in the way of furthering the plot of a story told in an audio format.

ZACH: Yeah, I guess he has a point there.

ARCHIVIST:

Fair enough… Either way, I'm not the biggest fan of the old girl, but she hasn’t broken down on me so far, so that counts for something I reckon. Not that there aren’t better ways of recording things, but I digress.

(a beat)

But, I guess I’ve just gotten in the habit of turning it on when it seems like I’m about to do something noteworthy that might further the plot, you know?

ZACH: Like… making tea.

ARCHIVIST:

Yes, yes, I believe you’ve already expressed your opinions on tea, but some of us prefer it to that… grimy coffee that you seem so attached to.

ZACH:

(flustered and compensating, sputtering his words out) Well you can defend your tea all you want, but I am still objectively correct and everyone else definitely agrees with me too, even if the coffee pot goes missing once a week-

ARCHIVIST:

The coffee pot what?

ZACH:

(feeling like he shouldn’t have said that as it seems to have hurt his argument, starting slow and getting increasingly heated) I… it goes missing sometimes… and I haven’t figured out who keeps taking it yet, but trust me I will, and anyways in the meantime, it’s a bit inconsiderate of you to continue trash talking my drink choice-

Recorder clicks off.

Recorder clicks on.

ARCHIVIST:

God, I had to cut that conversation off… It was getting quite past the point of relevance to anyone listening. Pointless debate. So… back to what I was hired on to do, I suppose. (clearing their throat) For the consideration of Boston College: Jordyn Mackenzie’s encounter with an odd child in her parents’ neighborhood, and her request to be exempt from her midterms. No date, once again. [mutters] I am starting to question my predecessor’s competency when it came to filing these out. Her story begins:

[ACCOUNT START]

Every Wednesday night, I make the drive over to my parents’ house to have dinner. When I first moved into my dorm, I had stubbornly been forced into these dinners, as if they were ripping away my freedom so shortly after I had received it. As time went on, however, those Wednesday night dinners have become what I look forward to most. After a while, the glamour of college began to wear off, and I got homesick easily, even if my mother and I didn’t always see eye-to-eye. There’s something so comforting about being able to step away from the bustling atmosphere of campus, and go somewhere quiet, and familiar. We’ve lived in that house almost all my life, and even with all of the bad memories attached to it, I can’t help but think of all the good ones. Perhaps that’s because I always try to see the glass as half full.

(beat)

It’s not just the house I enjoy. My parents live in a small gated community, just about twenty minutes away from school. The houses are all fairly new, with that white picket fence quality to them. In spite of that, each house has its own personality and charm to it. My favorite is probably this blue one with rabbit figurines out front. There’s a park in the neighborhood, too. Not a fancy one, just some monkey bars, a couple of slides, and a grassy field, but it’s great for picnics. Though, in all my time living there, I’ve hardly seen any other children there. I just assumed there weren’t many young kids in the neighborhood.

(another beat)

Thus, you can imagine my surprise when I met this particular child. Now, after dinner each night, I go out on a walk around the neighborhood. It’s small enough to walk the whole span of it in less than half an hour. My father used to come with me, but he’s been having troubles with his knee, so now I walk alone. The weather this time of year is near perfect for a walk—cold enough for it to kiss your face and wake you up, but not enough to freeze to death.

ARCHIVIST:

(mutters) Good lord, spare me the bad poetry. Would love to get to the actual point soon. Anyways.

[ACCOUNT]

It was on one of these walks that I first encountered the kid.

ARCHIVIST:

(mutters) Thank you.

[ACCOUNT]

As I previously stated, there aren’t many kids in the neighborhood, so it took me by surprise to see a new face. He looked to be about seven or eight, with unkempt, dirty blond hair, and blue eyes that were almost unnaturally large on his face. He wore a basic white t-shirt and jean shorts, and sure, I liked the weather, but a kid dressed like that must have been freezing, right? He did not shiver, however, hardly even emoted. Just walked right down the center of the road, staring dead ahead, carrying a bright orange toy gun.

(beat)

Of course, I worried for the kid. Where were his parents? Why was he out so late by himself?

I called out to him. He looked up at me with a surprised look, as if he was shocked to see me actually speaking to him. I asked him what his name was, but he didn’t answer. I tried to ask him lots of things—where his house was, why he was out so late, if he needed help or if his parents were nearby. He wouldn’t respond to anything I said. Just stood there and stared intensely into my eyes. I have to admit, it made me a bit squeamish. Eventually, I just walked away, hoping that whoever was responsible for the kid knew where he was, and that he would make it home safely. I tried not to think about it too much after that. The following week, when I went to dinner, I didn’t go on a walk. My parents had decided they wanted to play a board game, and I was more than happy to comply. The event with the kid had left me feeling unsettled, so I was a bit wary of going on a walk regardless. After another week, however, I had finally gotten over it. I figured it was just one weird kid, nothing more. I mean, looking back, I couldn’t blame him for being scared to talk to a complete stranger. I mean I wasn’t even certain looking back that the expression on his face was all that disturbing. It likely had just been fear, right? Surely, his parents knew where he was, and he was simply out for a post-supper stroll like I was. It was a fairly safe neighborhood, after all. So, the next time I went to my parent’s house for dinner, I went on another walk. There was a slight breeze, but my body heats up as fast as an oven with the slightest bit of exercise, so I welcomed the blasts of cold on my skin. The leaves in the trees rustled, and combined with the sound of windchimes, it was like a symphony of nature’s design.

ARCHIVIST: dropping down papers

(frustrated) I thought I said no more poetic imagery, christ- oh good it ends.

[ACCOUNT]

It was lovely, up until it wasn’t. I saw the kid again, still standing in the middle of the road. He was wearing the exact same outfit as before, the shorts even having the exact same grass stains they did before. It was uncanny, sure, but I figured it was just a coincidence. This time, I harbored far less discomfort or worry. It was just a kid. What could he do to me?

(beat)

A lot, turns out. (stumbling through the sentence) A lot meaning… scare me, but you know what I mean.

Before I even opened my mouth, I realized he was staring dead at me. As if his doll-like eyes were drilling holes into my skull. The weight of being watched hit me like a freight train, but I tried my best to shake it off. I apologized to him for being so invasive the last time we met. Again, he didn’t answer, just continued staring. I wasn’t quite sure what to say after that. It would be hypocritical if I began asking him questions again, immediately after I had apologized for doing exactly that.

ARCHIVIST:

Not sure a child understands what hypocrisy is, but, if it lets you keep the moral high ground, Ms. Mackenzie.

[ACCOUNT]

I didn’t like the way he looked at me, though. My desperate need to fill the silence was an instinct of some kind. As I stood there, teetering back and forth on my heels as I tried to think of what to do next, something strange happened. The kid, still staring at me, slowly began to raise his arm. In his hand was the same toy gun as before. He raised the toy gun until it was pointing directly at my head. Well, what the hell was I supposed to do with that? I knew it wouldn’t actually hurt me if he fired it, yet I still found myself frozen in place.

That was when the car, driving far too fast for a neighborhood, came barreling around the corner. The kid didn’t move. Didn’t even look to see the car coming. My feet lept to action before I processed what I was doing. I ran out into the middle of the street and tackled the kid. We stumbled towards the sidewalk on the other side as I dragged him. The momentum knocked us to the ground. Pain surged through my shoulder and my hip, but I hardly processed it until later, when I saw the large bruises that had formed. We had just barely managed to clear the car’s path. The driver didn’t even stop to apologize, or check to see if we were okay. Didn’t even slow down. I didn’t get a good look at the driver’s face, or the license plate. All I remember is that the car was black and might have been a Honda. Wherever they are, I hope karma did a good deal on them for their reckless driving.

Before I could focus on my injuries, I checked to make sure the kid was okay. Other than a scrape on his knee, he appeared to be fine, but it was hard to say. Even after all of that, his expression still hadn’t changed. For some reason, this made me indescribably angry. How could you almost get hit by a car and then still act completely neutral? Regardless,if he was in any pain, there was no way I could tell. I offered to take him back to my place and clean up his knee, but he shook his head. I noticed he was staring intently over my shoulder. When I turned around, I realized his toy gun had been destroyed. Orange and yellow plastic bits covered the street, almost like broken glass. He stood up and walked towards the remains. As he picked up what used to be the trigger, his face was still blank, but if I looked closely enough, I could have sworn I saw something adjacent to sadness. Disappointment, perhaps. For the first time since I had met him, he opened his mouth, and—god, I wish I had stuck around long enough to learn more. I wish I had pressed harder, since I now knew he was actually capable of speech. Hearing what he said next chilled me, though. I can’t quite say why. All I know is that after he spoke, I got up and ran back to my house, never wanting to see that kid again. Do you want to know what he said? The only words I ever heard him speak? It was this, with no further details or elaboration: “He’s not going to be happy about this.”

Paper shuffling.

ARCHIVIST:

And that seems to be where it ends. Jordyn gave us the name of the neighborhood this took place in, as well as the exact street the incident happened. The problem is, as she stated, it’s a gated community, and none of our staff had a code to get in. It says here in an attached slip of paper labeled: Incident Report, (sighs) date not given, that they contacted the head of the community in an attempt to gain access, but the head of the home-owner’s association said to, quote, “shove it in a place the sun doesn't shine, you conspiracy theory creeps.” Luca writes here that there was an issue involving a cup of… tea… thrown at their face… what a waste.(mutters) Rich people.

Because of this, there’s not much we can do. Without a stated name for the kid, or any known relatives, it’s hard to try to track this kid down. Frankly, I don’t think Jordyn’s story is all that concerning, other than the incident with the car, which we also could not find due to her vague description.

(beat)

It’s likely the child she met was simply shy, or possibly processed his emotions in a different way than she was used to. Her university certainly agreed with me, since it seems she was not given her requested time off. Thus, as far as I can tell, this is another instance of someone making something deeper than it needs to be and then trying to get an extra vacation. I can’t blame her, I suppose, since nearly seeing a kid get run over would certainly be upsetting. It does appear that Oliver, our resident psychological consultant, did recommend her a therapist, but she never went.

(beat)

Trust me, Jordyn, I would love to take a break as well, but post-grad school is expensive, and I doubt Mr. Banks would give me paid time off even if something worthwhile were to happen. It’s the world we live in, I suppose. Gotta pay off the student loans one way or another. (sigh)

End recording.

Recorder click off.

CREDITS:

Incident Report Number 31 is a podcast made by Three-Eyed Frog Presents. This episode, “Secure,” was written, directed, and produced by Val West and Luka Miller with sound design by Luka Miller. This episode featured Val West as the Archivist and Kaleb Piper as Zach Baker. Music is produced by Luka Miller. To keep up with the show and find transcripts, make sure to follow us on our Twitter at @IR31Pod and on tumblr at @IncidentReport31. To contact us with any questions or concerns, feel free to email us at [email protected]. Thanks so much for listening!

#ir31pod transcripts

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goldenpoison · 3 years

Text

new beginnings and starting over || chapter two

read it on Ao3 || prev. ~ next

Adrien messed up. That part was obvious. Why wouldn’t it be when he was dangling off of the Eiffel Tower. All because a goddamn akuma got way over themselves and thought they could seize all of the power or something like that. In the akuma’s mind, to do that, he had to threaten Ladybug by throwing newly returned Paris’ heartthrob off of a tower for everyone to watch, naturally. He really should’ve taken the car instead of walking.

He looks over to Ladybug across the opposite side of the tower. Confidence and wit was still oozing off of her. You can see it in her stance: her puffed up chest, her raised chin, and even in her slightly furrowed brows. Although, as time does to everything and everyone, it wasn’t the same Ladybug Adrien knew. Her outfit has changed, that was the most obvious part. It was more streamlined and mature. There were solid shapes of black at the sides of her hips that meets near bellow her belly and ends at the middle of her thighs, quite resembling a pair of shorts. Her hair wasn’t in those iconic pigtails anymore. It was in a low braid, and it was longer too. There were more changes in her, changes that are deeper and goes way beyond her physical appearance. Changes that he couldn’t quite point out, but he’s sure it’s there, hiding behind her fierce gaze.

But unfortunately, he didn’t have time to dwell on that. Not when the akuma’s starting to loosen his grip of his wrists. Any looser, and he’d fall and be squashed like a pancake. Though he was sure cats always land on their feet, with this high of a fall, he definitely did not want to test it. Even he did, he can’t. He was sure the moment he transformed, the people would fear him, even if he’ll don the black suit. Besides, it’ll most likely shock Ladybug and cause the rift between them to widen even more.

The wind blew the hair out of his face, yet the only thing he saw were blurs of color as he fell. His breakfast— if you could even call a single slice of toasted bread and latte that— rode up to his esophagus, his heart wanting to break out his ribcage, and his brain out of his skull. If he had thought he had a head-splitting headache when he woke up, now he’s sure one-hit Hephaestus himself did the honor of hitting it with an axe and proceeded to chop it up a couple more times and put it in a grinder for extra measure. He could barely hear the screams of someone as the wind becomes deafening to his ears. All he could do is think about all the regrets and mistakes in his life: siding with his father, spending his last weeks of being Chat as Chat Blanc, hurting her. His tears couldn’t even get past his eyes because he’d already cried too much of it.

The scream came from none other than Ladybug herself. Her eyes, on the contrary, are welling up with tears. After what seemed to be the final battle between them and Hawkmoth, and after he left, the akumas has lowered in frequency and in fatality. In the three years following, she never once encountered an akuma that seriously threatened a human’s life.

Naturally, it had made balancing her lives as Marinette Dupain-Cheng, fashion student, aspiring fashion designer, part-time baker, and as Ladybug, the coveted hero of Paris, much more easier. Unfortunately, because of the ease, having another person’s life in your hands has became heavier and made the pressure much bigger.

But she’s not going to let a single tear escape. Not when she still has something to say about it. In a quick flash, she used her lucky charm, a fish hook, to hook open the shield-looking front metal piece of the akuma’s suit which caused it to malfunction and reveal the black butterfly. Wrapping her yo-yo around the metal tentacles holding him up, sliding under, then wrapping them to the tower itself, she races down to try and catch Adrien, tripping the akuma while doing so. The moment her finger grazed his, then her hand grabbing his own, Ladybug’s tear mischievously slipped out. Slowly, she brings them down until Adrien’s feet touched the ground.

Adrien waited for his demise, but it never came. Instead of death’s empty ghoulish eyes, he was met with his own lifeline’s bluebell ones. Here he is once again after what felt like a century of waiting to see her and look her in the eyes once more. All the years of regret started coming back. All the sleepless nights he spent dwelling on the memories of golden roads not taken and the pain of hurting his Lady, and by extension his own soul. All of them enough to restart his once dried tear ducts. Before he could say anything, Ladybug flew up again and purified the akuma.

The seconds after she says the iconic “bye-bye little akuma” felt empty. What once was moments of relief and joy and life, was replaced with a few seconds void of any warm emotion. He should’ve been up there with her, bumping their fists and saying “pound it” after she uses her powers of creation to restore the damage made. Even when the cluster of ladybugs flew by him, he just felt lonely and not energized like before. Had she really lived three years of fighting akumas with this emptiness? If before he related fighting akumas to fencing, an enjoyable necessity, he’d say it’s more similar to doing a cleaning your room after a week now.

Ladybug finally set foot on the ground next to Adrien. She was a whole head and three more inches shorter than him, he noticed. As opposed to before when he can freely rest his chin on top of her head. Not that he did, but he could if Ladybug would allow it. It seems that he changed too.

“Are you okay?” she asked, worry and concern coating every inch of her voice.

“Yeah. Thanks to you,” he said. He shifted his weight on his right foot then his left then right again. “What about you, are you okay?”

Ladybug did not expect that. Out of all the years of doing what she does, she doesn’t think anyone has ever asked if she was okay after. The only person who ever did is gone from her life now. “Oh, um, I’m good, thanks.”

She pursed her lips and her eyes wandered to anywhere but the boy in front of her. Thankfully, she was saved by his phone’s notification sound. Pulling his phone out of his pocket, he looked at it and turned his head to look until it settled on a black car with a rather large man standing in front of it

Looking to Ladybug again in hopes of remembering every feature of her face. He looks at her eyes that seemed to have darkened over time. He notices her more pronounced freckles. He notices that her cheekbones are the tiniest bit less round and a little bit more defined along with her jaw. Yet all these changes seemed to do is make Adrien’s heart beat faster.

He looks back at the car then back to her. “Looks like my ride is waiting for me. Thank you, really,” he said before basically speed walking to the car to escape her lingering gaze.

Adrien takes his remaining sweet time of five minutes to just think mindlessly. That is, until he heard a small “psst” coming from the pocket of his shearling-lined leather jacket. Without a single second to waste, Plagg came out of his hiding spot and did what he does best: tease him. “So, you finally get to see her again, huh?”

Adrien just gave him a look. The partition between the front seat and the back was rolled up anyways so Gorilla couldn’t really see what he was doing, but he told Plagg to quiet to his voice just in case.

“She’s so different now. More independent too, it seemed. She doesn’t need me anymore. Not that she ever did.” Adrien’s voice was hushed and turned into a whisper when he said the last part.

Seeing the deep frown on his face and his furrowed brows, Plagg didn’t exactly know what to say, so he just hugged Adrien in the way a small creature like him could. Adrien released a deep sigh and held Plagg in his hands, staying like that for the remainder of the car ride.

When they reached the doors of his former house, he really couldn’t call it a home anymore, Plagg took his place inside his jacket and Adrien tried his best to look as presentable as he could. He looked at his shoelaces, then remembering that he slipped on his black loafers that morning. He adjusted his jacket a couple more times, pulled it down, then the sleeves, then pulled the collar up delicately.

Walking towards the front doors and inside the house, he comes to agree to everyone else. Going back to a place you were once familiar with, no matter how big it was, it will feel so small to you. Unlike the girl in the red and black suit earlier, the mansion is still as cold as ever. Perhaps a tiny bit colder, if such a thing is possible.

Nathalie, his father’s assistant even after all these years, came up to him. “I heard what happened with the akuma earlier, are you alright?” Nathalie, although distant, still acted as sort of a mother to Adrien. She may not be the warmest person he knows, but she was still there to keep track on him and worry about him. It was Nathalie too who had held his crying body that one night years ago. It was her who supported his decision to end his time as Chat Blanc. Adrien was sure that if it wasn’t for Nathalie, Adrien would be completely cut off of his father’s will, finances, and maybe disowned at most.

“I’m alright, Nathalie. Didn’t even get a scratch,” he said and smiled at her. “It’s great to see you again.”

“You too Adrien. Now,” he could tell she’s switching gears to her extremely professional assistant mode with the way she straightens her back, raises her chin, moves her glasses higher, and looks down at her tablet. “Your father has been waiting for a few minutes now, and it’s best not to keep him waiting any longer.”

She opened the door to let him in. His father didn’t even bother for pleasantries. “I sent Gorilla to come get you this morning, and you refused, now look where you ended up.” Adrien wanted to retaliate and point out that it was his akuma but he held his tongue. He wanted to say to his face that the reason why he wanted to walk was so he could procrastinate on seeing him and talking to him.

“I wanted to enjoy the early morning breeze,” he replied, straight-faced. His father only glared at him with his steely grey eyes. The wrinkles around it hasn’t changed much, which is to be expected from an man who is known for having a permanent frown glued to his face.

“Tomorrow there will be a board meeting to further discuss the happenings of the nearing Paris Fashion Week and as the successor of this company you are expected to show. Be on your best behavior and listen. This will be your first official meeting. This will set the expectations of you and let the heads acquire a clear impression of you as a leader. During the nine days of fashion week, you’ll still walk the runway, do photoshoots, and be present as a fit model, with the addition of corporate tasks. At the very end of fashion week, there will be a masquerade ball held to raise money for orphanages. Nathalie will provide you with a flexible paradigm of your schedule. That will be all.”

All of those things he said without stuttering and without the expected welcoming tone from a father to his son. He said it like a stereotypical emotionless and unsympathetic boss talking to his employees, which in a way he is. Adrien doesn’t think that his father had even once mentioned his name while he was gone. Collecting his calm, Adrien did not utter a single word when inconspicuously storming out of the room.

#miraculous ladybug #ladrien #ladybug #chat noir #adrienette #ladynoir #adrien agreste #marinette dupain cheng #adrien x marinette #fanfic #idk apparently im still writing this after one chapter #ik im shocked too #wow anya can write?

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my-miraculous-headcanons · 5 years

Text

Message Belatedly Received

It’s probably been months since Marinette had opened up her most treasured (non-magical) possession. Which truly is a crime, but it couldn’t have been helped. Things have been particularly busy, ever since Alya had found and returned her lost sketchbook all that time ago.

Hawkmoth had went on a rampage for a solid month, specifically targeting Chat Noir, and in that time, hadn’t even demanded the Ladybug or Black Cat Miraculous. In fact, all of his attacks seemed angry, overly violent, and uncoordinated. Marinette worries that their nemesis may very well be going off the deep end, and had been taken hold of by a bout of insanity.

There was also the matter of Adrien. He had taken special interest in frying her internal circuitry, and she can’t for the life of her figure out why. Not that she was complaining, of course, but...

No, yeah, she’s definitely complaining.

Having the object of her affections flirting with her every day should have been a dream come true for her, but in actuality, it’s a total nightmare. She hasn’t been able to get a coherent sentence out around him for ages, which is a huge step backwards on all the progress she made! She’s been coming home feeling absolutely mortified almost every single day, and at this point, she just can’t handle it anymore.

But, for the past three days, Adrien has not been in school, giving her time to finally get over all her embarrassment, think hard about his recent behaviour, and finally, jump, dance, squeal, and gush in absolute joy over the development.

Which ultimately led her to remembering the forbidden sketchbook.

How could she have possibly forgotten about it?!

She berates herself rather harshly for making such an error. She’s not one to forget something so important so easily, especially for that length of time. At the very least, even if she didn’t have the time to add anything, she should have thought or remembered it at least once!

There’s no use dwelling on that, however. Now that she actually has the free time, there’s no question on what she’s going to use it for.

With a look of fierce determination, Marinette draws out her mighty pencil from her desk drawer, and flips the forbidden sketchbook wide open.

And then she nearly has a stroke.

There’s a sticky note in it, peeking out ever so slightly behind pages that cover over it.

Alya had promised that she hadn’t look in it, and that she never would, but somehow, there was a sticky note in it, and she sure as hell wasn’t the person to put it there.

Hand shaking, she lets her pencil clatter to the desk, and hastily flips through the pages. She lands on the last of the occupational pages, where she had drawn Adrien in his pajamas, cuddled up with their three possible future children, the top of the page labelled Stay-At-Home Dad.

This one’s my favourite! :D

Her hear stutters to a stop. She recognises that handwriting.

As soon as realisation sets in, her heart restarts, then beats ten times faster.

Abruptly, she stands up, her chair forcefully pushed to roll across the room and slam into her bedroom wall. She flips to the first page, then lets a strangled noise emit from her throat.

There’s another sticky note.

Your designs are awesome! I can’t wait to see this when the time comes! ;)

Beside the sticky note is her in her wedding dress. Her face goes bright red as she lets out a whimper.

“Marinette?”

Tikki flits out from her corner, cookie crumbs on her cheeks, looking at her current Ladybug in concern. The expression on Marinette’s face isn’t anything new, especially recently in the wake of Adrien’s advances, but it’s certainly strange to be seeing it on her within the confines of her bedroom.

“Are you alright?”

Unable to gain control of her mouth fast enough, Marinette nods almost violently, snatching the forbidden sketchbook and pressing it flush against her chest.

“Don’t worry, I won’t look,” Tikki says in slight amusement. “Well, if you say you’re alright, I believe you. But if you need anything, just ask, alright? Or... snap your fingers, if you go nonverbal.”

At Marinette’s agreeing nod, Tikki goes back to her corner to consume more cookies.

With her kwami no longer inquiring, Marinette takes in a few deep breaths, willing herself to calm down enough so that her face is no longer a furnace.

“I’m gonna– balcony!“ Marinette cringes, but knows that Tikki’s familiar enough with her babble to know what she’s trying to say.

“Alright! Be careful though, it’s chilly!”

“Right, yeah!”

A minute or three later, Marinette is bundled up in one of her spare blankets like a burrito, resting against the lounge chair on her balcony. The cold air stings her cheeks, and it’s exactly what she needs to gather up the will to continue.

She opens the sketchbook up again, and flips to the next page, featuring Adrien in his wedding suit.

I like how I look here. I look happy and loved.

I want that.

She closes her eyes and simply breathes, feeling tears gathering up behind her eyelids, chest feeling full and warm despite the cool air. She takes a moment to herself before she continues on, flipping pages until she gets to the next sticky note.

I’d make a pretty handsome professor, wouldn’t I?

She lets out a surprised laugh. She was going for the dorky, borderline conspiracy theorist look, with unkempt hair, a wide grin, and a tacky tie, having him gesturing animatedly towards a chalkboard in front of a class.

Yeah. He’d be a pretty handsome professor.

She continues.

Hey, you give me too much credit. I love fencing, but am I really gold-medalist material?

Rugby? As a career? And ruin this pretty face? My father would have a coronary.

Okay, your idea of being a model looks so much more fun than my father’s idea. Yes please.

Baker? I can’t bake. I’d love to learn, though. I wouldn’t mind continuing the family business. Think your dad would teach me?

You know, I’ve never thought about being in a band full-time. I love that idea.

Ice dancing? Okay, I won’t deny I was interested in those lessons, but I think I’m too old to start a full-time career out of it at this point. Or was that figure skating?

She keeps flipping until she finally lands back onto the Stay-At-Home Dad page, smiling so widely it’s almost painful.

Adrien was giving her input on their shared future. He made no comments about how it isn’t guaranteed, or that he didn’t like her like that, or that he was upset with her, or that he liked someone else. No, instead he went along with it, seemingly happy with this find, and narrowing down the options for their future paths.

But, she can’t deny that the occupational pages and the wedding pages weren’t the most important ones. It’s what came after that truly mattered. And she can see the outline of the next sticky note against the page, so she knows he’s seen it.

Taking in a deep breath, she flips the page.

Hugo Dupain-Cheng-Agreste.

Louis Dupain-Cheng-Agreste.

Emilie “Emma” Dupain-Cheng-Agreste.

They’re beautiful.

You’re beautiful.

Thank you.

The tears that had been threatening to spill finally break free, rolling down her cheeks, and she smiles so wide she’s almost embarrassed, reaching a hand up to block the view of her grin.

“What do you got there, Marinette?”

She yelps and topples off the lounge chair, blanket slipping halfway down to her waist. Her head whacks painfully against the flooring, since her hands are too busy protecting the forbidden sketchbook to break her fall.

Chat Noir winces and helps the poor civilian up and back into her seat, apologising for startling her.

“It’s nothing, Chat Noir,” Marinette eventually responds, not too surprised to see him on her balcony. He’s been visiting more and more frequently lately, which is just another thing to add to the list of time-consuming distractions that’s kept her much too busy to even think about the forbidden sketchbook.

Honestly. How dare that cat be part of the reason that led her to committing such a crime.

“You’re not the type to cry over nothing,” Chat Noir says simply, raising an unimpressed eyebrow.

“It’s not like they’re sad tears.”

“Happy ones, then?”

Her eyes dart away, cheeks going pink. Chat’s expression becomes devious.

“Of a boy, purrhaps?”

“That is none of your business.”

“Au contraire, mademoiselle! You have no idea just how much it is my business! But, since I am your absolute best guy friend ever, I promise not to push any more. Isn’t that noble of me?”

Marinette breathes out a relieved— and slightly amused— sigh, shooting her companion a grateful look. She looks down at the sketchbook, inspecting it to make sure it wasn’t damaged in the fall, then shuts it and places it on her lap.

Unnoticed to her, Chat Noir’s eyes finally make contact with the object of her happiness, and his smile goes tender and soft.

So, she’s finally noticed.

“It’s getting a little cold out here, don’t you think? Let’s go inside. Besides, last week you promised me we’d have an anime marathon. It’s Friday now and I’m getting antsy!”

Marinette laughs and shakes her head, kicking her blanket off her legs so she can stand up.

“Sure thing, minou. You know my desktop and Netflix password, I’ll go downstairs and sneak us some snacks.”

She flicks his bell.

“Be good.”

And with that, she descends into her bedroom and down the trap door, leaving a stunned superhero in her wake.

Huh, Chat thinks, heart thudding rapidly against his ribcage. Would it be a rational response to move our marriage date up a couple years? Eighteen isn’t too young, right? Right.

To the surprise of no one, he thinks that with full sincerity.

To the surprise of everyone but Adrien, she would say yes.

... But that’s a story for another time.

#Marry That Girl #Miraculous Ladybug #ML #Marinette Dupain Cheng #Marinette Dupain-Cheng #Adrien Agreste #Adrienette #Marichat #Adrinette #Maximilian Speaks #Maximilian's Writing #Tikki #Chat Noir #We're nearing the end of the series

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consilium-games · 3 years

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Setting, Genre, and Principles

I talked recently with a friend about Apocalypse World, genre, and Principles. For those unfamiliar, Principles are a design and game-running technique that Apocalypse World did not invent, but did refine and explicate, a bit like how the Greeks knew of static electricity, but it was Galvani who made a battery on purpose, that others could study. Since I haven't died yet, I have a project in mind, in this case one that really explicitly relies on Principles in its basic design, so in this essay I want to work out a basic edge of 'what Principles can cover'. Namely, the edge of 'genre'.

I'll define a couple technical terms here because I intend to use them pretty narrowly:

Diagetic means the usual, "bound within the world of a given story".

Commentative means "outside of any story, things we say about stories-generally".

So a setting counts as diagetic, bound within its own logic and the logic of the single work it appears in. Diagetically we'd ask "why does the author choose to write dragons in this way?"

A genre counts as commentative, not bound within any story. It may or may not codify some stories, an author might consciously bend to or defy a genre as they understand it, but most importantly on the genre level, we don't ask "why did the author write dragons like this?" Instead we ask "why do people-generally like to see dragons?"

In talking with that friend, she said she had difficulty reading AW, which I can't really fault anyone for: I'd consider AW almost as much a polemic manifesto as a procedural manual. And the former undermines the latter. Part of her issue came from her looking for a setting, not realizing that properly speaking, AW doesn't have one. I said as much, and as we talked, I then said a lot more than I should:

After confirming that "Baker does not give AW a setting", in a bit of enthusiasm on the idea of 'genre emulation', I went on to say that "Baker gives his apocalypse". This prompted confusion, for the reasonable question arises, "how can Baker provide his own, particular, post-apocalypse story without giving a setting?" So I should have spoken more carefully, and I wrote most of this essay to over-answer that question for my friend. I've massaged it into its current form, for you non-her readers, in hopes that it helps someone, or if nothing else I can refer back to it as I clarify my own cranky lit-game-dev ideas.

To me, 'a setting' goes like this:

DnD has a kind of proto-setting, it has dragons like-so, it has elves who look pretty and live in the woods, it has dwarves who look TV-ugly and live in the mountains, it has orcs who look ugly-ugly and live in the wastes, it has humans it treats as default and live wherever. It has vague gestures of settler-colonial race-relations but not enough anything to explore, unless you the reader put it there. DnD doesn't really have much of a genre more specific than "uh, generally sword-and-sorcery fantasy".

Shadowrun has basically the same things, and a specific setting: neoliberal dystopia and collapse of the state, but otherwise 'basically our world'.

But more than that, Shadowrun also--for its many faults--has a commentative-sense genre: in Shadowrun, might makes right (or at least right-now); money rules everything, except maybe loyalty; it treats magic as innately cool and natural but technology as evil and you maybe would better die than get an artificial heart. These story-contours don't care at all about where things happen or what institutions exist.

To take another example, Cowboy Bebop tells a solid noir western story set in space. The fact that it takes place in space ultimately matters very little to the 'western' or 'noir', though. Spike knows he lives in space, and he'd agree that--to someone alive in our world today--he lives in a sci-fi story. He doesn't know that he got cast as a western-revenge-fable protagonist (though he might agree if someone asked). He definitely doesn't know that he has a corner of the story that goes more-western, while Jet lives in a corner of the story that goes more-noir.

If you wanted, you could tell Cowboy Bebop beat for beat, almost unedited, as a straight-faced noir western. Instead of Jet's main ship they have a wagon, the individual bounty-hunters have their own horses, Ed does something weird with telegraphs and adding-machines. Instead of vacuum between planets of our solar system, they weather the desert waste between far-flung towns. It would remain a story about revenge, losing oneself, finding oneself, remaking oneself, and the things we have to do for the people we love, and what happens when we don't.

You could not do this and also remove the noir, or the western, those define the kind-of-story. If you left it in space but took out the noir, entire episodes of moral ambiguity would disappear (like Ganymede Elegy). Likewise taking out the western, the premise of bounty-hunters wouldn't fit and couldn't stay. I would even go further, and say that while I don't mind Cowboy Bebop sitting on the 'sci-fi' shelf so that consumers can find it, I wouldn't class Cowboy Bebop as sci-fi. A masterpiece, but not sci-fi. Because I think that as a genre, the core of sci-fi asks "where are we going, and what will we do when we get there?" Cowboy Bebop does not care to ask this question, it cares about the human condition right now, and what people right now will do. It takes place in space because space is cool.

Second hot take: Kafka's The Castle counts as sci-fi, by the above conception. Extremely, disturbingly prescient sci-fi, precisely predicting things from call-centers to Big Data and the professional managerial class, and warning of the ease with which a competent, level-headed, and well-meaning person can confront The Machine, and The Machine will completely hollow out and dehumanize them, rob them of every competence and agency, until The Machine no longer notices them as a foreign object.

No one would put The Castle on the sci-fi shelf, because it has no shiny labcoat SCIENCE![tm], telephones and typewriters show up as cutting-edge in the setting. But just look at the concept of tracking, monitoring, filing, and refiling, and bureaucratic shuffle and managerial maladaption and "not my department" and "oh you have to fill out a form 204B -> well file a form AV-8 to requisition a 204B -> look do I have to do everything for you, I'm a busy cog you know". Look at that concept as a technology, like Kafka did.

The story explicitly refers to this as innovation, as a deliberate thing that the Count and his bureaucrats did, on purpose, with intent and expected effect. The Castle explores social science, political technology. And Kafka rigorously explores its psychic effects on the subjects, more thoroughly than Gibson waxing poetic about VR headsets and the Matrix. The Castle qualifies as fiction about science, where we're going and what we'll (have to) do when we get there. It takes place in a quaint provincial village that might lie somewhere in Bohemia in the very early 20th century.

So I allege that while setting matters for writing a given story, it doesn't matter a lot for kind-of story. And in my conversation with my friend, I should have sensed the kernel I could have dug out, but instead, I wrote the rest of this essay, particular to post-apocalyptic genre fiction, and germane to Apocalypse World.

Bringing this back to apocalypsii:

In the Australian outback in the late-70s, the gas supply all but disappears, causing societal collapse and civil breakdown.

In the American midwest, an unspecified disaster wipes out communications and supply-lines, causing survivors to turn feral and cannibalistic.

In New York in the late 60s, food shortages and overpopulation cause the government to criminalize almost everything so that they can grind people up into food.

These are settings in the sense that I mean: a place, a time, implicit societal structures and institutions, "where is this, what world is this, what is here?" DnD's setting doesn't have much of a 'where' but it more or less assumes "uh, Earth kinda, sorta"; Shadowrun says "literally Earth but N years after magic becomes real and also DnD races". But the above three post-apoc settings have very different everything-else: if you were making a post-apoc section of a library and wanted to break down into sub-genre, you'd want to put the three works above on different aisles.

Mad Max tells a story where holding on to old power structures is complicated, sometimes good, sometimes bad, and it emphatically matters how we go about doing it: when marauding punks kill your family, you may justifiably go and kill them back; but when a power-mad warlord inflicts his brutal regime, you owe him no allegiance.

The Road tells a story where everything we care about can just blow away in the wind, and at best we can only cling to what we cherish, while we can. Power comes and goes, structures don't last, but cruelty and misery endure eternal and will always win--but we try anyway.

Soylent Green tells a story where societal structures can technically endure, but themselves have no moral compass and can inflict as much cruelty as uncaring nature. You may live in an illusion in which civilization appears to function, but in fact you have no more safety than the wilderness, and indeed you didn't realize it, but you're the cannibals, and perhaps soon the meal.

Those considerations all sit at the genre-type, commentative level, and I class them as wholly unconcerned with setting. Each of these stories would tell just as well in space, or an underground complex, or even Bronze-Age Fertile Crescent if you twist a few narrative arms. The where and when and what doesn't define or determine the kind of story, the genre, even if setting can help or hinder genre goals.

Bringing this back to Baker: he doesn't give a place where things happen; he doesn't give an inciting event that brought the apocalypse; he doesn't even describe what happened during the apocalypse, or how long ago it happened, or give a date for "today". I'll list three AW settings I've run or played in or heard about:

Sunlight vanished altogether, though somehow it hasn't gotten any colder. Darkness and shadow can become animate and even sapient, and can claim people, though it doesn't seem exactly malevolent or 'evil'. Rule of law has mostly fallen apart, but out of fear and prudence people mostly avoid wanton violence, because if you see someone you don't like, you could roll up on them and take their stuff--but just as easily they could kill you, and just as easily as either, the Dark might just take both of you; you're safer keeping the Dark at bay and not hassling someone else, unless you've got good reason.

A few years(?) ago, survivors woke up from total amnesia and some kind of fugue: it seems like this fugue lasted at least some years, there's some decay of modern-to-us structures, but the ruins look fully recognizable and often quite well-preserved. But signs abound, literally painted twenty-feet-high on buildings and structures, that something unfathomable happened. The giant wordless pictograms seem to warn to protect tools and structures, to stay together and not go off alone, indicate places that once had lots of food or other important resources, and most alarmingly they show gigantic hands reaching down from above onto some of the pictogram figures. No one can remember anything from before the wakeup though, so the meaning is lost.

Something like twenty years ago, the world broke in some fundamental way: it always rains or at least fog abounds, long-distance communication inexplicably but insurmountably fails to work, and cityscape has sprawled on its own to incorporate seemingly the entire world. As far as anyone knows, the city spans infinitely in every direction, it has no edge, only more city. The city-cancer seems waterlogged and rotting everywhere, some few places fit for use and occupancy, but if you go down any given street and step inside an empty house or shop, it probably won't suit human habitation. People still habitually carry on the forms and outlines of societal norms, mostly, because what else can they do? You can't burn it all down as long as it keeps raining.

I brought these up because Baker's conception of 'post-apoc' does not cover the whole of "all post-apocalyptic literature"--it couldn't, shouldn't, and if it did it would have little or no use to anyone. Baker's narrower conception, the Principles that AW's rules expect a setting to follow, narrow things down and keep the rules crisp, tight, and tractable.

Each of the AW campaigns above has a totally different setting, aiming in totally different directions for different things--but, they all live inside Baker's Principles for a post-apoc that fits within AW: scarcity, weak but present society and norms, a Before, an After, and no going back, and each has a 'Psychic Maelstrom' that excuses a lot of narrative fiat and deus ex machina and having characters just do weirdness not otherwise specified.

That 'Psychic Maelstrom' comes closest to giving what I'd call "a setting" as in "place, time, institutions", because it sits at the diagetic level. A distinct thing bound within a given story--except it only barely counts as 'diagetic'. Because Baker only gives loose guidelines for what a Psychic Maelstrom should be or do. Baker's own at-his-table Psychic Maelstrom will look nothing like mine, or my girlfriend's, or her erstwhile friend's, because in those three AW settings up there, each of us had totally different ideas for what to do with a Psychic Maelstrom in a post-apocalyptic setting.

But: all three of us used our Psychic Maelstroms for the things Baker says to use them for: unleash weirdness, justify unrealistic but narratively satisfying twists, allow and excuse extra awesomeness, maybe use as a metaphor or allegory for "how it got this way", as well as "where it could go", in literary terms. And . . . Baker doesn't really get closer than this, to giving "place, time, institutions, history and people and events". So in the sense I understand 'setting', a diagetic construct within a given story, AW doesn't have one.

But in the commentative genre sense, AW very definitely gives Baker's apocalypse, in that it gives a recipe for the things that Baker considers essential to the post-apoc genre (or at least, the aisle of the post-apoc library he wants to confine his game to). He doesn't try to tell a Soylent Green apocalypse so much--you'd need to twist some arms and ignore some Principles to tell Soylent Green. Nor does he try to tell Children of Men so much--you'd have to leave a lot out to rein AW in to just Children of Men. He instead aims* for something closer to Mad Max, but heavy on Weird West, and a lot less somber and desolate, so more like Fury Road. And he says, "here's how:".

(*) But, of course, he doesn't actually tell these stories. Instead he has the project of telling the reader how to tell this kind-of story. So, while he gives some sample poetic images of skylines on fire and the world torn asunder, he doesn't care to talk about the virus, or the metorite, or the gas-shortage or the food-shortage. He doesn't care about the where or when or what, and even with the Psychic Maelstrom, the one concrete diagetic thing he gives--it sits there as a meta-thing, explicitly unstated whether it resulted from The Apocalypse or its inciting event, or caused it as the inciting event, or something else.

All of which boils down to: commentative, about-stories, genre-level stuff owns bones, and I weigh it heavier than diagetic, in-stories, setting-level stuff. Baker gives excellent tools, within his purple polemic prose, for that first stuff and gives little or nothing for the second.

#literary theory #game design #genre

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eldritchsurveys · 4 years

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850.

1. What kinds of genres of music do you listen to? >> It’d be easier to name the genres I don’t listen to...

2. Are there any types of music that you don’t listen to at all? >> ...which would be bluegrass, polka, uh... noise... K-pop... yeah, that’s all I got right now. Honestly, K-pop is probably only here because I just haven’t gone to check out any songs, not because I actively don’t like the genre.

3. Do you own any band tees? >> Yeah, most of my t-shirts are band shirts.

4. Name some of your favorite male solo artists. >> Eddie Vedder, David Bowie, Steve Vai, Orville Peck, Sam Cooke.

5. Name some of your favorite female solo artists. >> Elle King, Sia, Beyoncé, Anita Baker, Céline Dion.

6. Name some of your favorite boy-bands. >> Okay, so are we talking boy bands, like Backstreet Boys and One Direction, or just bands with dudes in them? Because I don’t really listen to boy bands anymore (aside from songs that I remember from childhood), so.

7. Name some of your favorite all-girl bands. >> Hmm... I’m not sure I listen to any all-female bands. There’s some female-fronted bands in my library, but the rest of the members are dudes.

8. Name some of your favorite bands/groups in general. >> Oof. Here’s five: Zeal & Ardor, Coheed & Cambria, Pearl Jam, Trans-Siberian Orchestra, Volbeat.

9. Do you sing in the shower? >> Sometimes, if a song I know the lyrics to is playing. I listen to music every time I shower, it helps distract my hell brain.

10. Do you sing along with the radio in the car? >> I don’t sing along in the car because Sparrow has a thing about people singing.

11. Do you listen to music while you are cooking, filling out surveys, or cleaning the house? >> Sometimes I listen to music while taking surveys, but I don’t do it often because I find it too distracting. I do listen to music while cleaning, or taking walks, or doing any other task that mostly involves my body more than my brain.

12. What’s the name of the song that you’re listening to right now, if any? What’s the name of the band/singer? >> I’m not listening to music.

13. What kinds of music do your parents listen to? Do you think that their music taste differs greatly? Whose music taste is better, in your opinion? >> I grew up listening to soul, R&B, gospel, that sort of thing. I still listen to that stuff because I enjoy it.

14. Do you ever listen to music without any words? >> Sure.

15. Are there any famous musicians that you’ve met? Are there any that you would like to meet? >> Yeah, I’ve met uhh... Avenged Sevenfold, Coheed & Cambria, and Sevendust multiple times, as well as Halestorm, Steve Vai, three-quarters of Volbeat (lead singer wasn’t feeling great so he left the venue early)... yeah, I think that’s it. I used to be really into that kind of thing, but I’m largely over it now; I actually think it would be cool to see Sparrow meet Hozier, because she’s not had that experience.

16. What was the first concert you’ve been to, if any? How about the last/most recent? Which, out of all of the concerts you’ve attended, was the best? >> First concert was Avenged Sevenfold and Coheed & Cambria (co-headliner tour), in Asbury Park, New Jersey, in April 2006. The last concert I went to was Hozier here in Grand Rapids, last year sometime. I think it was last year. :x My time sense is all fucked up. Anyway, I’ve been to way too many concerts to start naming one as the best one ever, that’s crazy. Most of the shows I’ve been to were awesome as fuck (there were a couple ehhhh... ones, and then there was one I was way too high to enjoy lmao, but usually I have a great time).

17. Do you have a favorite movie soundtrack? What is it? >> I have a favourite movie soundtrack composer, actually, and that’s Clint Mansell. Everything he does is just... AAAAAAAAA for me. I can always tell when he’s done a score because I can just feel the music in my bones, and then I look at the credits and I’m like “OH OF COURSE IT WAS YOU.”

18. Would you want to be a band groupie? Why or why not? >> I had a phase way back when where I was obsessed with groupie culture (from like the late sixties through the eighties) and if you’d asked me then, I’d have said yes. I’ve wised up by now and I definitely would not want that.

19. What is a band/singer you would like to see but haven’t gotten a chance to yet? >> Yeah, there’s a lot of bands and singers like that. But I’d have to be really picky nowadays about who I went to see, because I just can’t deal with most concert environments as well as I used to anymore.

20. Do you care more about the beat of the music you listen to, or the lyrics? >> I mean, when it comes to the first listen, it’s going to be the melody that catches me. If that doesn’t happen, then I’m not even going to bother looking at the lyrics, so...

21. Does anyone in one of your favorite bands play an unusual instrument? >> I listen to some prog bands, so there’s definitely some unusual instruments happening in at least some songs.

22. What are some of the songs that you listen to the most frequently? >> I don’t know, probably Master Boot Record and Zeal & Ardor tracks. I’m a bit obsessed right now.

23. Could you make a playlist of songs that describes your life? What kinds of playlists do you have made? >> I don’t think so. I’ve definitely tried in the past, but when you really start thinking about the vast array of experiences and feelings that make up a life, it becomes fuckin impossible.

24. Do you remember listening to music on CDs and cassettes, not just on the internet? >> Yeah. Definitely don’t miss it, gotta say.

25. What kind of music device do you use in order to listen to music? (iPod, MP3 Player, etc.) >> I use my phone or computer, with Spotify.

26. Is there anyone in your family who is a musician? >> ---

27. Would you ever consider a career in music? >> No. I love music, but as a consumer.

28. What is a song that would describe your current mood? Who is it by? >> I’m not really in any kind of mood. If you know a song about being vaguely tired, then that’s it.

29. Are there any musicians of the past that you really admire? >> Well, sure...

30. Do you listen to Top 40 type music? >> I don’t even know what’s on the Top 40, so... maybe? Probably not, though, I haven’t really gotten into any mainstream-popular artists recently that I can think of.

31. What musical instrument would you like to learn how to play? Have you ever played an instrument before/taken lessons? What was it? >> I don’t really care to learn any instruments. It’s not something I feel passionate about, not like how I feel about listening to music. I’ve taken bass guitar lessons before, in like... 2008 or so? IDK. Years are fake.

32. Do you enjoy watching musicals on DVD or sitting through them as plays? Which method do you prefer, and which is your favorite? >> I would love to watch musicals live, but I definitely cannot afford it. I’m fine watching recordings of them (or movie adaptations, in some cases). My favourite stage musical is Phantom of the Opera (I say “stage musical” because I also have a favourite movie musical, and that’s Repo! the Genetic Opera).

33. What was the worst concert you’ve ever attended before, and what made it the worst? >> Taste of Chaos at Nassau Coliseum. It was the worst because arena shows are just the worst, period. I was right up in front (my friends and I camped out overnight) and I just got repeatedly slammed against the barricade and crowd-surfers landed on my head multiple times, et cetera. I’m surprised I didn’t leave with actual injuries (was wondering if I was gonna need a neck brace by the end), but I did feel pretty damn shitty the next day.

34. Have you ever crowd-surfed during a show or been a part of a mosh pit? >> Nope.

35. Have you ever gotten into an altercation with a drunken concert fan before? What happened? >> Nah, everyone I’ve met at shows have been pretty cool, if not downright awesome. That’s one thing I always loved about going to concerts, I seemed to make new friends every time.

36. Have you ever dated someone who was a musician? >> No, but I’ve fucked a few.

37. What are some of your favorite music videos to watch? >> Oh, man, it’s getting late and while I could go ham on this question, I don’t have the time right now lol. I’ll just say that I love nineties-era music videos, and some from the aughts as well. I feel like those were the best years for music videos, but that might just be nostalgia (and the fact that I haven’t really seen as many videos from the 2010s). As far as recent artists are concerned, I think Orville Peck makes really evocative and moody (not necessarily moody like pensive or depressive. mood-y. mood-evoking) videos that I appreciate.

38. Have you ever made a lyric video on YouTube? >> No.

39. Have you ever recorded a cover song and posted it? What kind of feedback did you receive? >> No.

40. Is there an album cover design that you really admire? >> I’ve seen so many excellent album covers, I couldn’t even begin to address this.

41. What are some of the most overplayed songs right now, in your opinion? >> I wouldn’t know, I don’t listen to radio or anything.

42. Do you watch music awards shows on television? >> No.

43. Have you ever competed in any sort of singing contest before? >> No.

44. Have you ever tried to start your own band before? >> No.

45. What’s the name of a band/singer that you recently have discovered? >> Dreamcar (yet another Davey Havok side project, because he just can’t be tamed, apparently).

46. What are some annoying/weird/funny songs that have gotten stuck in your head before? >> Barbara Ann gets stuck in my head all the time, but that’s okay because it’s fun and I love it.

47. Are there any songs that actually make you cry? What are they, and who are they by? >> There are many songs that make me cry. We ain’t got time for a list like that.

48. Do you listen to any music in another language? >> Sure. Off the top of my head, I can think of fave songs in German, Swedish, Japanese, Indian, and Italian. [a-zebra-is-a-striped-horse]

#surveys #survey #music survey #my fave kind

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thebookwormfairy · 5 years

Text

Big Brother AU

It was a beautiful day in Paris as a young couple, Tom and Sabine Dupen-Cheng, look for somebody to work in their bakery

They needed the extra help because they were expecting their first child

They didn't require any experience

They would be more than happy to train the new employee

This ad caught the eye of young Jared Stone

A young American looking to start is music career in Paris

But was having a bit of a problem getting started

At this point he was desperate for any job he could get

So he walked into the bakery with his baby alligator Fang with all the cofindince he could muster and begged for the job

Let's just say Tom and Sabine instantly adopted the poor boy who was down on his luck

It was decided that they would train him in all things backing and because they believed in his dream they let him play his music on Friday nights

And Fang would become the new Mascot of the bakery.

He was still a little guy at this point

Their relation ship grew closer as the months past and Sabine's stomach grew in size

Tom became the supportive father that Jared never had and Sabine became his doting mother even though they were only 8 years older than him

Jared actually became a pretty good baker

Tom would often joke that if music doesn't work out for him he'll always have a job as a Baker.

Jared actually created a whole new cake design that look like Fang

It became a best seller

Especially with young boys

Jared was there when the baby started to kick for the first time

His eyes grew in size as he felt the little life move around inside

He was also there when Sabine's water broke

Both men freaked the fuck out

Jared: WHAT DO WE DO!????!!!

Tom: STAY CALM WE NEED TO GET THE BAG..... WHERE'S THE BAG?!?!?!?!

Sabine is all calm just walks out and gets in the car

Sabine: *honk* *honk* Are you guys coming or not?

Both men looked at each other before rushing into the car

Jared made sure to grab Fang on his way out

Jared wasn't allowed in the delivery room (partially because of the baby crocadile) so he had to wait outside pacing in the waiting room

Poor Sabine was in labor for hours

But it was all worth it once her beautiful daughter Marinette was brought into the world

Tom came out with the biggest smile on his face

Tom: Would you like to meet you little sister

Jared eyes started to tear up

That was the first time Tom acknowledged their father son relationship put loud

Jared: Of course

When Jared walked into the room Sabine was holding little Marinette in her arms

Tom gently took Fang out of Jared's hands

Sabine: Do you want to hold her?

Jared could only nod his head as he walk over the Sabine

She gently placed the new born baby in the young man's arms

Jared looked down at the big pair of blue bell eyes that stared back at him.

Tom: Her name's Marinette

Jared held out a finger to the baby in his arms

Jared: Hello Marinette

Marinette giggled and grabbed onto his finger and he was gone

He was wrapped around her finger

As Marinette grew so did her relationship with Jared

His name was her first word

Well almost

Sabine: Tom! Jared! Come here! I think Marinette's about to say her first word!

The two men rushed over to Sabine and Marinette

Sabine: Come on baby you can do it.

Marinette: J- J-Ja-Ja

Tom: is her first word going to be Jared?

Jared: Ha I knew it would be! Come on Marinette say it, say Jared.

Marinette: Jagged!!!

Marinette said reaching her hands out to him

Tom/Sabine/Jared: WHAT?!?!

Marinette: Jagged! Jagged! Jagged!

Marinette continue to say while reaching out for Jared

Tom: *laughing* Well you were kinda right Jared.

They all had a good laugh about it in the end, and Jared actually thought the name Jagged would be a great rock'n'roll name

It became his nickname and everybody started to call him Jagged full time

Marinette became really close to Fang

The 2 were basically growing up together so of course they were close

As Marinette grew older Jagged gave her the nickname Little Mouse (a/n: who know where I got this from)

Jagged was discovered when Marinette was 5

One Friday night a young manger named Penny came into the bakery hearing great things about their Friday night act

As soon as she heard his first song she new Jagged Stone would be the next big thing in music

She wanted no time getting him signed up with her company

She was right he became an over night sensation

Tom and Sabine could not be broader of their boy

They always new he would make it

Marinette was also happy for her big brother

His dreams are coming true

But she missed seeing him everyday

Jagged also missed seeing his little mouse and his suragat parents

To try and curve it Jagged made sure to call them every night

They actually went to his first big concert

Marinette had to wear sound canceling headphones to protect her young ears

Jagged wrote a song dedicated to the Dupen-Chengs

It became his number one song and it continue to stay in that position years into his career

Through everything, all the tours, press conferences, and drama Jagged's family stayed with him through it all

You'd think the physical distance but between Jagged and the rest of his family would eventually tear them apart but it actually pulled them closer together

And because she was Jagged's manager Penny was also brought into the family

And she loved it

She love their dynamic

Sabine taught her how to bake a couple of their signature recipes

Marinette took to her almost immediately

Marinette: Oh you helped Jagged achieve his dream. You're part of the family now

Speaking of Marinette Jagged did his best to keep her out of the press

It wasn't that he wasn't proud to have her as a little sister he just wanted to protect her from the wolves that was the paparazzi

Because of Jagged's influence Marinette's style leaned more towards rock'n'roll

She still got into designing clothes and stuff but they had a bit more rock'n'roll in them

Not many people knew about Jagged's relationship with the small Parisian/Chinese family

He liked to keep his private life separate

He would usually stay with them when he was in Paris but as he got bigger that had to stop to protect them

So he started to stay at the hotel (a/n: I can't remember the name)

Okay here's the biggest change in this au

Marinette is not Ladybug

Adrien is

And Jagged is actually Chat Noir

Master Fu saw Jagged playing with Marinette one day in the park

And he thought back to the boy who he gave to ladybug miraculous to

That poor boy needed somebody like Jagged in his life

Jagged takes to being a super hero almost immediately

And he took Lady Beetle under his wing even faster.

Adrien and Jagged had more of s Father-Son relationship than a sibling one

Adrien was so happy because his father won't even give him the time of day

Something him and Jagged had in common

Jagged told Penny about his super hero Identity almost immediately

He had to

She plans everything so of course she needs to know about this

Jagged relationship with Plag is so awesome

They both are just natural disasters but some how they balance each other out

Penny is the voice of reason for both of them

Plag: Let's go bungee jump off the Eiffle Tower

Jagged: Yeah!!! Let's go!

Penny: NO!!!

Marinette and Adrien being best friends!!!

Like ligit best friends

They bond over their love of Jagged stone and their knowledge of Fashion

Picture Marinette and Adrien looking over a magazine and gossiping about the designer and models and discussing how the designs could have been better

On Career Day Marinette pretends to be really down about being a gofer because she knew that if Chloe thought that Marinette would even have a smidgen of fun she would make her dad give her something worst

As soon as the mayor leaves Marinette drops her act

Marinette: Hey Jagged what's up?

She then proceeds to plop down against Fang giving him a chin scratch

They spend the whole day talking while Marinette worked on the Eiffle Tower sunglasses he asked her to design last week

In Pixalator Jagged gets really mad at the fan because he took pictures of him and Marinette and was planning to put it all over the internet

Nobody can do that to his little sister

LUKANETTE

Yes Lukanette

They definitely bond over their love of music

Their relationship proceeds similarly as in the show without the Adrien drama

Because their just best friends in this one

Marinette spends a lot more time with Luka

They sometimes just spend hours at the time listening to music together

They're so comfortable together

They start to date after Silincer

Who could turn down a boy after he says this to you

Yeah nothing's going to top that

Jagged takes Kitty Section under his wing after this also

His excuse for knowing about them is that he heard Bob Ross' confession over the tv

After a month of dating Marinette told Luka about her relationship with Jagged Stone

It didn't change anything

Luka loved Marinette for Marinette not for her connections

Luka actually calls Marinette His Melody

She calls him Her Statue

Jagged gave Marinette the mouse miraculous

All because of his nickname for her

How could he pass up the chance to make his little mouse an actual little mouse

Omg when it's all over Jagged gathers all the miraculous holders to Adrien's house in the middle of the night and had Adrien let them in.

They stood outside of Gabriel's room banging pots and pans together yelling

WE DIDN'T GET ANY SLEEP CAUSE OF YOU!!! YOU WON'T GET ANY SLEEP CAUSE OF US!!!!

#miraculous ladybug headcannon #miraculous ladybug #jagged stone #uncle jagged #big brother jagged #marinette cheng #marinettecheng #marinette dupen chang #best friend adrien #lukanette #i really want this to be a fafiction but i also know i can't write ot because it would never get finished #luka #ml headcanon #chat noir!jagged stone #lady beetle #kwami swap #luka x marinette #lukanette headcanon

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crazyrandomfucker · 4 years

Text

Marichat May Day 10: Can I borrow your miraculous?

Summary:

Kitty Noire is going to model for Marin, but having to wear clothes over her suit creates some problems for Marin so he asks her a controversia question.

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

"Finally, the day has come to model for my dear Prince" says Kitty Noire jumping from roof to roof doing her morning patrol. "Aaah, I can't wait to be with him. We'll have to be quite close if he's going to retouch anything from his designs and maybe he'll blush because of that, Marin looks so cute when he blushes".

"Um... Kitty, you remember we're doing patrol right? You can think on your prince charming later, but focus a bit for now" says Ladybug giggling.

"Oh! Sorry about that Ladybug, it's just that I'm so excited!" says Kitty as she does an extra pirouette while jumping to the next roof.

"I can see that, maye even Hawk Moth can see that" says Ladybug. "But I can relate to that. How about we finish earlier today's patrol? There's barely anyone in the streets on a saturday morning and I could use the sleep".

"Of course! After all, m'lady has to have her beauty sleep to be even more beautiful and woo her mysterious precious boy" teases Kitty Noire.

"Actually, it's because I'm usually sleeping at such unholy hours" replies Ladybug.

"But it's half past nine already" points Kitty.

"I wake up barely before eating on my free days" says Ladybug.

"My, my. I never thought LB would be that much of a bedbug" says Kitty smirking. "But again, you eed to sleep to dream with your lovely boy".

"As if, I used to daydream whenever I saw him" says Ladybug. "Now it's not that bad, but I still do it from time to time".

"Such a pure maiden in love" teases Kitty smirking.

"Hello kettle, I'm the pot" says Ladybug rolling her eyes

"But you're red and I'm black" says Kitty. "So I'm not a kettle calling a pot black".

"You're so ridiculous sometimes" says Ladybug miling.

"That's part of my charm, isn't it?" says Kitty teasingly.

"It surely is, along with your unrivaled beauty and your kindness" says Ladybug.

"Unrivaled beauty, says the most beautiful heroine" comments Kitty.

"Please, you're gorgeous Kitty, you're definitely more beautyful than I am" says Ladybug.

"Bug, you're definitely the cutest and most beautiful between us. You have more fans because of that" says Kitty.

"Let's agree to disagree for now. We've already finished patrolling and I'm sure you'll want to take a shower before modelling for Marin" says Ladybug.

"Thank you for your consideration m'lady, I'll take that shower gladly, it's been oddly hot in the mornings lately" says Kitty as she leaves.

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

After having taken a shower, put on some cologne and make sure that she didn't even have a speck of food left on her teeth; Adrienne calls upon her transformation and jumps out of the window, heading towards the Dupain-Cheng household with quite a gleeful demeanour. In no time, she gets to Marin's rooftop and Marin immediately greets her with a big smile. Marin opens his trapdoor and let's her go first, recieving some light teasing from Kitty Noire, who is secretly enjoying herself perhaps a bit too much. Marin follows her inside but leaves her alone on his room for a moment while he goes to pick from Marinette's bedroom a seamstress tape because he can't find his.

When Marin returns, he measures Kitty's height to make sure that his designs will fit her, even if not they wouldn't fit because of her height. He gives Kitty Noire a couple of shirts to pick from and a skirt, after which he let's her change behind his room divider. She puts on a white sleazy shirt paired with a light blue skirt and shows it to Marin, who doesn't seems quite convinced about it and tells Kitty to try a dress instead. She puts on the dress and shows off to Marin again, but there is something wrong with it since Marin burrows his forehead and puts his hand on his chin, as if he was trying to solve some sort of mistery about Kitty. Suddenly, his face lits up and then goes back to his previous state.

"There's something wrong Marin" asks Kitty a bit worried.

"I'm not sure..." says Marin pensative. "The color of your suit kind of fits nicely enough with my designs, but there's something bothering me".

"What is it? Can I help you in any way?" asks Kitty.

"Can I borrow your miraculous?" asks Marin suddenly, with a bit more of determination on his face.

"My miraculous? What do you need it for?" asks Kitty confused.

"The thing is that your suit doesn't fits with the clothes you're wearing, but I'm not sure if it's because of the clothes or if it could be because of the miraculous" explains Marin. "So I thought about trying some of my clothes while wearing your miraculous to see if the problems are the designs or the suit".

"I would gladly do a lot of thinks for you Prince Charming, but I can't reveal my identity even if you ask me with that pretty face of yours" says Kitty Noire, a bit disappointed because she lowkey wants to see him as a hero.

"Well of course I wouldn't ask you to reveal yourself to me, I thought of giving you some clothes and a mask So I won't recognise you" says Marin. "Plus, maybe it will be more comfortable for you to try on my designs like that. I saw how you looked at your nails when I gave you the dress".

"Well, well. Aren't you considerate now? Or should I think that you're secretly Hawk Moth?" says Kitty a bit nervous, not registering what she says.

"Oh no! You got me!" says Marin dramatically. "I was planning on stealing your miraculous to become a catty butterfly and conquer the world. Look, I'll even transform in frot of you so you can see the miraculous all the time, I won't change in another room or anything as well".

"Silly, I was just messing with you. But the miraculous aren't things one should easily lend you know, not even to handsome boys like you" says Kitty. "I'm sorry but I fear you can't borrow my miraculous".

"Don't worry, I understand it" says Marin. "Then we're finished for today, I'm going to make some modifications to the designs so they fit your suit. Can you come by next week?"

"Wait, we don't need to stop now. Don't bother changing your designs" says Kitty. "I can still do the detransforming thing with a mask".

"Are you sure? I really don't mind redesigning" asks Marin.

"Yeah, I'll just need a bit of cheese, brie if possible" says Kitty a bit relieved.

"Ok, I'll go for it in a sec, let me get you some a bag for your own clothes, some clothes and the mask so you can detransform and everything" says Marin before handing her what she'd need.

"Okay, I'll be preparing myself" says Kitty as she goes behind the changer.

As soon as Marin leaves, Kitty detransforms and Plaggue gives her an inquiring yet amused look. "Well, well, well. Daring, aren't we? At least you didn't lend the miraculous to the baker boy"

"Of course I didn't. I'm in love, but I'm not stupid" says Adrienne as she changes her clothes and folds her own.

"Is that so? I think I saw you doubt for a second back there" teases Plaggue. "Lucky you that Prince Charming was so comprehensive".

"Of course he was, he's probably as wity as Lordbug if not more" says Adrienne.

"Poor Buggyboy, being udervalued just because his oponent is your beloved" teases Plaggue. "I still think you should give him a chance".

"Plaggue, we've talked about this milions of times, Lordbug doesn't likes me. Well he doesn't likes me anymore, he said that he was dating someone" points Adrienne.

"Didn't he also said some time later that they broke up because it turned that the girl was lesbian but she didn't knew?" points Plaggue.

"Yeah, that was a bit funny because it was quite similar to what happened with Marin and Sakura, if it wasn't that Sakura discovered she was lesbian after breaking up and then talking with Marinette" recalls Adrienne.

"That was hilarious, though baker boy seemed rather relieved after breaking up, he was a bit hurt, but not to the point of doing typical post-break up things" points Plaggue. "I would even dare to say that he paid some special attention to you afterwards".

"Don't be silly Plaggue, it's just that he's very selfless" says Adrienne as she puts on the mask. "Maybe I should do my hair?"

"Yes, you should. I'd recommend a tendril twist" says Plaggue."Give me some rubbers and I'll do it for you".

"Thak you Plaggue, you're a lifesaver from time to time" says Adrienne thankful.

"Well don't expect too much from me, I'm not always in such a good humour like now" says Plaggue doing Adrienne's hair.

Someone knocks at the door. "Can I enter?" says Marin.

"Sure! Come in" says Adrienne. "My kwami is doing my hair right now".

"Good idea, that way I won't recognise you for you hair" says Marin entering to his room. "I've got the cheese. There was just a bit of brie, so I also brought some roquefort just in case".

"That boy is good" says Plaggue. "I'll make sure to treat him well".

"You always think with your stomach Plaggue" says Adrienne giggling.

"You sure get along with your kwami, don't you?" says Marin smiling.

"Just whenever she's not talking about a certain someone" says Plaggue snickering.

"Or when you're not pestering me for cheese" replies Adrienne.

"So your kwami is also your confident?" says Marin. "Must be good at keeping secrets if you tell her about your boyfriend".

"He's not my boyfriend!" says Adrienne nervous. "Not yet".

"Oho~ Determined, aren't you?" says Marin chuckling. "I guess you'll be coming less once you're dating with him".

"Why should I?" asks Kitty.

"Well, it'd be weird if you were alone with another boy quite often" points Marin. "Plus, you'd have less time".

"Hey, you should date baker boy, that way you'd have more reasons to come often" says Plaggue chuckling. "Don't you sometimes call him Pretty Face?"

"This and that are different things" says Marin. "But I think that even if it was an honour, Lordbug and Ladybug wouldn't be quite happy about ti because I know their identities".

"But if that wasn't like that, you'd date her" points Plaggue smugly.

"Plaggue, stop with the teasing and finish my hair" says Adrienne.

"But I finished some time ago" says Plaggue.

"Then tell us sooner!" says Adrienne. "I'm sure Marin has other things to do instead of hearing us".

"Don't worry, it's lovely to hear your banter" says Marin smiling. "Besides, the other thing I have to do is perfectionating my designs".

"Well then, I'll be eating the cheese" says Plaggue.

Kitty goes out of the changer with a Kitty mask, beige jeans and a simple white shirt without sleeves. "How do I look? Would you recognise me if you saw me on the street?"

"Without the mask? Nope. But I must say, you look incredible like that" says Marin after some time he spent being speechless. "You're just like Adrienne, my model friend. You both can wear lots of different style and look great on them".

"Well thank you, I'm flattered to be as cute as a model in your eyes" says Kitty while she melts internally.

"This kind of simple countryside outfits look good on you, I wonder if I could experiment some more to find which style fits you better" says Marin pensative. "Well, for now, let's see how well do my designs fit on you".

"I like the simplicity of this one. Perhaps you should recommended to your model friend, if she's like me she'll probably like it" says Kitty.

"I don't know if her father would allow it, but I could consult it with him. I'm her particular designer for the moment. It's like an apprenticship, but only until I'm 18 because her father wants me to be his protegeé" explains Marin.

"Well, maybe if you manage to make a sort of collections you'll convince him" says Kitty. "Isn't that what you should do on an apprenticeship?"

"You know what? I'll try to. This beautiful simplicity remembers me of... Greeks! Greek myths like the goddesses or the nymphs didn't have complex dresses and yet they irradiated beauty" says Marin.

"Oh my, are you saying that I'm your goddess?" teases Kitty.

"Obviously" says Marin winking. "Though maybue you're more like a muse, since you give me this wonderful ideas".

Kitty blushes a lot and Plaggue burst into laughs. "Oh my god kid! This boy is way too much" says Plaggue cackling. "Hey boy, you'll make my kitten fall for you if you keep being this smooth".

"Plaggue!" complains Kitty.

"Don't worry, I know she's just teasing us" says Marin. "How about I give you your next outfit?"

"Sure! If it's as cute as this one I might consider taking one of this home" says Kitty joking.

"I could make you something, you know" says Marin.

"You could make me the happiest girl if you proposed to me" thinks Adrienne.

After changing into the next design, Marin gives his thumbs up and keeps giving clothes to Kitty for her to change into. With each new design, they banter for a bit about the style of the design and other things, teasing each other and enjoying the moment. Outfit after outfit, they spent gleefully their time and even Plaggue had to admit that she was having quite a good time. Unfortunately, everything had to come to an end at lunch time, specially because Adrienne had to go back home for lunch since his father had decided that it would be a good day to act like a father for once and eat with his children. With a bit of disappointmet, both of them said goodbye and parted ways.

#marichatmay2020 #miraculous ladybug #miraculous au #miraculous fanfic #Twins!Au

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elles-choices · 5 years

Text

Part 15: If I Die Young (TRR AU, Liam x MC, NSF*W)

A/N: This chapter is actually two in one, meaning = there will be a lot of thing happening! I hope you guys enjoy it!

Pairing: Liam x MC (Catherine)

Summary: Catherine Spencer returns to New York after her fall from grace in Cordonia. She left the love of her life behind and all the dreams she had dared to dream. Now she has to pick up the pieces and move on but her past has a way of finding her.

Disclaimer: All characters belong to Choices by Pixel Berry

——————

„Lord make me a rainbow, I'll shine down on my mother

She'll know I'm safe with you when

She stands under my colours, oh and

Life ain't always what you think it oughta be, no

Ain't even grey, but she buries her baby

The sharp knife of a short life,

Well, I've had just enough time

If I die young bury me in satin.

Lay me down on a bed of roses

Sink me in the river at dawn

Send me away with the words of a love song“, If I die young, The Band Perry

——————

After the fireworks, the guests were invited into the ball room for Liam’s toast to Catherine, presenting her formally as Duchess and the future Queen of Cordonia. Before going on stage, Liam kisses her on the cheek and gives instructions to a waiter to bring her a champagne glass filled with sparkling water. A couple minutes later the chime of silver on glass draws the attention of the party guests to the stage, where Liam stands and smiles to the crowd:

„Ladies and Gentlemen, thank you all for coming together today to celebrate my engagement to Lady Catherine Spencer. As part of becoming Queen, Catherine is receiving today the title of Duchess of Valtoria“, Liam looks directly at his fiancee, his smile is gentle and full of love, „Thank you, Catherine, for completing my life, filling it with so much love and joy“. He extends a hand to her and Catherine joins him on the stage, she is touched by his loving words. Liam puts one hand on her waist, „Please join me in raising a glass to the future Queen of Cordonia“.

As the party guests cheer and celebrate their new Duchess and future Queen, Madeleine glances at Regina, „Liam is turning his reign into a circus. He should know better than presenting his feelings to his court like that. This only makes him look weak and foolish“.

Regina moves closer to madeleine, „Come with me“. Walking through the cheering crowd, they leave the ball room through one of the French doors leading to the inner courtyard and sit down on a bench in a dark corner, far from anyone’s sight, „Unfortunately, there is nothing we can do… in a few days she will be Liam’s Queen and will initiate the end of the monarchy as we know it“.

„Aunt Regina, don’t be so pessimistic. As long as they aren’t married, a lot could happen…“, Madeleine smiles at her Regina as if she already had a plan.

„You don’t understand… the girl is with child. Liam would never believe any intrigue and he will definitely never leave her“, Regina shakes her head, „The only thing that makes us better than commoners is their believe in that. Catherine wants to bring this monarchy closer to the people… for God’s sake, she got Liam build a kitchen in the King’s chamber so they can cook together. What is next? Will she send their child to public school? Soon people will start asking if they really need a King. She will destroy the monarchy and all of us with it“.

„W-What? A child?“, Madeleine stands up and start pacing nervously, „That bitch thought of everything…“, she mumbles.

„My thoughts exactly“, Regina watches Madeleine’s steps slowing down.

„Oh, no but we are not going down without a fight!“, Madeleine crosses her arms in front of her, „Liam will never leave her but would she stay if she knew what life in palace is really about? If she knew how dangerous this life can be for her and her child? If we gave her a taste of how life with enemies in her own court could be?“

„I’m listening… What do you have in mind?“, Regina looks at Madeleine curious to know her plans.

—————

Once the celebration came to a close, Liam accompanied his fiancee back to their apartment. Unaware of Regina’s and Madeleine’s plans to disrupt their happiness, he runs a bath for him and Catherine.

Liam walks out of the bathroom, watching Catherine on the bed relaxing after this stressful day. He offers her his hand, „Love, the water is ready for you“. Once she gets up, standing in front of Liam, he unties her dressing gown, letting it fall to the floor. His eyes sweeps over her naked body, „You are so beautiful my love“. He gets closer to her, „Your breast… they look bigger“.

She giggles, „You noticed…“, she puts her arms around his neck. „Yeah, our baby is growing strong and soon we won’t be able to hide my pregnancy anymore“.

„I can’t wait to see your belly growing“, Liam runs his hands over belly and around her waist, going down to her butt. He smiles, squeezing it gently and then his hands make their way down to reach under her thighs and lift her up. She hooks her legs around his waist and he brings her to the bathroom. He then helps her into the tub and she slides forward so he can sit behind her. „Once we are back from our honeymoon, we will be able to know the sex of our baby… do you want to know it? I can’t wait for this day to be honest“, he massages her back.

„Of course I want to know! Then we can finally decide on a name for our little one“, she smiles and rests a hand on her belly. „I'd say once we reach the second trimester, we could share the news with our people“.

Liam kisses her shoulder and her neck, „This day will be historical. After over four years, Cordonia will finally have an heir to the throne. Our people will rejoice over the news and we can finally start preparing for our baby’s arrival“.

„Honey, isn’t it too early to start getting ready for our baby?“, Catherine chuckles.

He hugs her, resting his head on her shoulder, „We are talking about the crown prince or crown princess of Cordonia… we have to choose a room, find someone to be responsible for the interior design, we need to find a local carpenter to make the furniture…“, before he finishes his thought, Catherine says:

„Hold on a second. If you still have the furniture of your baby room, we could use them. We would have the carpenter refurbishing those pieces, but the we wouldn’t need anything new and at the same time we would have something from your mother… that she chose for you. What do you think?“, she turns her head to Liam and notices he is getting emotional.

He kisses the back of her head, „You are amazing, my love. I don’t deserve you… you’re so thoughtful, so kind… your love is everything I need to feel complete“, his voice was soft, almost fragile, „That you wanna include my mother in this special moment, welcoming her into our child’s life means so much to me“. Liam holds her tighter to him, „I wish she could have met you, Katie… she would have loved you“, he whispers.

„I’m sure she is here, Liam, taking care of all of us“, she takes his hand and puts it on her belly, „Taking care of our baby“.

Liam closes his eyes and thanks God for having sent her to him, he can’t stand the thought of a life without Catherine.

—————

The next morning, Liam and Catherine head to Valtoria for a day trip. Catherine looks through the window enjoying the scenery and with the corner of her eyes she catches Liam staring at her.

She smiles, „So, my King, what are the plan for the day?“

„We will be choosing the flower arrangements for the Cathedral from a local florist and also one of our wedding cakes will come from a Valtorian baker. As I told you before, it isn’t an official visit but I thought it would be nice to include your duchy in the celebrations. Unfortunately, we won’t have much time over there because of my trip to France tomorrow“, Liam kisses her forehead, „Now, you better look out the window or you will miss the entrance to your castle“.

Catherine’s eyes widen in disbelief, „What?“, she looks back at Liam shocked, „Are you serious? This is like out of a fairy tale“.

Liam smiles, „Everything you see here is yours“.

Catherine smiles, getting closer to Liam she whispers, „Well, Mr. Rhys, I can’t wait for the day we will christen every and each room of this castle“, she brushes her fingers over Liam’s chest and trails kisses over his neck.

Liam blushes, „Oh honey, I can’t wait for this day either but let’s not start something now that we won’t be able to finish… in a couple of minutes we will have to leave the car and I, erm…, I won’t be able to walk out of this car if you go on like that“. Catherine giggles and kisses him on the cheek, turning back to the window.

After their arrival, Catherine is greeted by Gladys, the majordomo and is led by her through the castle for a tour of the most important places while the florist displays her arrangements in the ballroom.

When Liam and Catherine finally arrive at the entrance of the room, they can already take in the sweet scent of the flowers. Catherine slowly walks into the sea of flowers and heads straight to the petit brunette, working on the final details of one arrangement.

„Good Morning!“, she says, „This look amazing!“.

Liam walks behind Catherine, watching carefully every details, „You have exceeded my expectation, Mrs. Wallace“.

The woman curtsies, „You Majesty, your Grace. Forgive me for having my back turned to you, I didn’t notice you approaching!“

„Please, don’t worry about it in anyway“, Catherine smiles, „So, I see you have included my favorite flowers in your arrangements?“

„Yes, your Grace. His Majesty made clear that I should add pink and white roses to the arrangements. I took the liberty to add the peonies though, for they are one of the symbols of your duchy“, she smiles and shows the different arrangements she has created.

„I love peonies and everything you have here. What do you think, Liam?“, Catherine looks at him and he walks through the sea of flowers.

„I believe this arrangement is one of my favorite — it’s simple yet classic and elegant“, he looks at Catherine and she smiles.

„I love it, sweetheart! I think we have a winner!“, she takes his hand in hers and leans her head against his strong arm. „Now it is starting to feel real, soon we will be married, Liam“, she looks at him and he kisses her head. They discuss a few other details with the florist before heading for lunch in the dining room.

In the afternoon, they headed to the parlor, where a local baker prepared a few different cake slices for a wedding cake tasting. Liam playfully fed Catherine with every cake flavor that was represented on the several trays. After going through the different flavors, they settled for a chocolate truffle cake filled with chocolate ganache with a hint of raspberry and vanilla.

The day in Valtoria ended with a ride through the the countryside, just a small presentation of Catherine’s duchy as their first official visit will be after their honeymoon and they will spend their first week as a married couple in her lands.

—————

In that same evening, after dinner, Catherine walks into her bedroom wearing a white night gown. She looks at Liam, lying in her bed, very concentrate in his reading and she smiles. She sits down next to him and gives him a kiss on the cheek.

Liam smiles and looks at her, putting down his book, „Sorry, I didn’t see you there…“

„It’s okay. What are you reading?“, she gets closer to him and he wraps an arm around her waist.

„Nothing too important, I’m just trying to get ready for my trip to France tomorrow“, he kisses the top of her head, „Are you sure you don’t wanna come with me?“.

Catherine smiles, „I’d love to but I got work to do and I got that tea party thing, the one Regina is organizing, remember?“

„Oh, yes, I do“, Liam tilts her chin gently to him, „If Madeleine is there and if anything happen that makes you uncomfortable, don’t feel obligated to stay there, okay?“.

„Thank you, sweetheart, but I think I can deal with Regina and Madeleine…“, she smiles and stares at him for a few seconds. Catherine bites her bottom lip, moving slowly over him, pulling her gown high enough so she can straddle Liam.

He smiles naughtily, „Hmmm, you are insatiable, my Queen…“

„I’m blaming the pregnancy hormones…“, she giggles and lower herself slowly onto him for a passionate kiss. His hands roam up her thighs -- one holding her hip and the other stopping between her legs, making her moan.

„Oh god, Katie, you are so wet…“, he whispers and massages her love button with his thumb. She slips her hand into Liam’s boxer briefs, reaching for his fully erected manhood. She looks deep into his eyes, leading him slowly inside of her and he groans. „Oh baby, you feel so fucking good…“. She lowers the straps of her gown, exposing her breasts to Liam. He reaches for them and massages them gently for a moment while she rides him the way he loves it. He pulls her to him and kisses her neck, trailing kisses down to her collarbone and to her breast. They enjoy the feeling of their body becoming one for a while, their moans and groans getting louder.

„Fuck, baby… I’m close“, she lets her head falls to her back and Liam grabs her hips, intensifying her movement, getting deeper and faster into her, making her scream, „Liam…“.

„Yeah, love, come for me…“, as he feels her walls tightening around him, he wraps his arms around her, pulling her tighter to him and he lets go, finding his release inside of her. He looks deep into her eyes, „Catherine, I love you more than anything…“

„I love you too, Liam“, she lets herself fall to his side and Liam lies down, pulling her to him while they try to catch their breaths. She nestles into his arms, tracing circles on his muscular chest.

Sometime in the middle of the night, Catherine wakes up feeling sick. She tries not to wake up Liam but when he hears her throwing up in the bathroom, he doesn’t hesitate to go to her side. Although the treatment is working, some days are better than others.

After 30 minutes in the bathroom, she washed her face, brushing her teeth and went to bed feeling terribly. Liam pours her a glass of water, „Maybe I should cancel my trip…“, he looks at her worried.

„Nonsense, Liam. I’ll be fine… we know that the sickness can last throughout the pregnancy. I’m just glad I get a break some days“, she drinks the glass of water and rests her head on Liam’s chest.

„Then promises me you will see the palace doctor in the morning, please! Just to make sure you don’t need another infusion…“, he kisses her head and strokes her back.

„Okay, honey, now you should sleep. You have an early flight to catch“.

Liam sighs and turns off the light. He tries to fall asleep but he can’t shake the feeling that he shouldn’t leave her alone.

—————

Feeling better than the night before, Catherine walks through the palace, on her way to Liam’s study to work from home. After two conference calls she hears a knock on the door.

„Come in“, she says.

Regina opens the door and looks at her annoyed, „I was looking for you, your Grace. I just couldn’t believe my ears when I was told you would be working here, in Liam’s study“.

„It was Liam’s idea but I’m sure you aren’t here to discuss where I should or shouldn’t be…“, Catherine closes her laptop, „Please, have a seat“.

Regina walks into the room and sits down, „I had an early meeting with our family lawyer and I was told you still haven’t signed a prenup“.

„Liam and I have never talked about it, actually“, Catherine crosses her arms.

„He probably forgot with so many things to take care of... “, she smiles, „That’s the reason why I took the liberty to bring this for you. It is the same prenup Madeleine signed so in case of a divorce you will be taken care of“.

Catherine has a quick flick through it and closes her eyes shortly, pinching the bridge of her nose, „Okay, Regina… you know I am a lawyer, don’t you? Do you really think I am going to sign this?“, she opens her eyes and sighs.

„Why not? It’s fair…“, she says.

„First of fall, if we signed a prenup or not it’s none of your business, so you don’t have to go around asking questions. Secondly, I’m not against it. If Liam wants a prenup, we will have one but one that we both agreed upon — we will find a lawyer and we will discuss the terms of this contract, not you and your lawyer, do you understand me, Regina?“, Catherine stands up and walks to the bar area to pour herself a glass of water.

„I just wanted to be helpful…“, she says, „And there is also this other thing...“.

Catherine signs and takes a deep breath trying to keep her cool, „What is it?“, she walks back to her seat.

„This one you have to sign. Every Queen before you did…“

Catherine reads attentively every line and can’t believe her eyes, „You want me to terminate my parental rights to my unborn child?! Are you insane?“, she laughs but actually she feels like screaming, „‚The child of a King or Queen is property of the Crown‘? My child is property of nobody. I mean, Regina, if you or anyone think I’m going to sign this… you are delusional“.

„As I said, every Queen before you did. It’s just to assure that the child will have a courtly education and in your case, that you won’t take the child away from Liam“, she says.

„Liam knows that I’d never do this to him and there are international laws that protect the rights of both parents... I’d never be able to leave the country with my child without the father’s consent. You have to know this much at least“, Catherine says, trying to keep her voice down, „Look, I have work to do. I’m gong to discuss this with Liam but I can tell you now, I’m not signing it!“.

Regina stands up and smiles, „Sooner or later you will have to…“. She turns around and leaves the room. Catherine waits until she closes the door and sends Liam a text:

„Can you talk now?“

A couple of minutes later, Liam calls her:

„Hey sweetheart, what is going on? Missing me already?“, his voice is soft and full of love.

„Liam, do you want a prenup?“, she says agitated.

„Whoa, where is this coming from?“, he says confused.

„Go on! Have a guess…“, she sighs.

„Regina? But I have never talked to her about a prenup… Honey, listen to me, I don’t need one. Otherwise we would have talked about it a while ago“, he tries to calm her down.

„Liam, I am not even mad because of the prenup but with the prenup she gave me a waver… to sign over my parental rights to the crown?! What the fuck! I am not doing that…“, Catherine stands up and starts pacing.

„Love, you don’t have to sign anything. I would never ask you to do that, you know me. You have to calm down, Katie, this isn’t good for you or our baby…“, Liam waits for an answer but she doesn’t say anything. „Honey?“

Catherine sits down again and puts a hand on her side, feeling some cramping, „Yeah, you are right. I think I gotta finish up things here and lie down for a while“.

„Is everything okay? Did you see the doctor?“, he asks worried.

„Yes, he will come by after the afternoon tea and I’ll probably get an infusion again“, Catherine closes her eyes and breaths deeply.

„You should stay in bed today, you don’t have to go to Regina’s tea party“.

„I am going with Hana, Liam. Don’t worry too much about me… everything will be fine“, she says feeling a little better, „I love you… talk later?“

„I love you too, please call me whenever you want!“. After talking to Liam, Catherine answered a few emails and went to bed. She was still annoyed with Regina for her lacking of boundaries, but she tried not to worry about it for the baby.

—————

After a few hours in bed reading, Catherine got dressed for the tea party and met with Hana in the parlor.

As they arrive in the tea room, Catherine and Hana are greeted by Regina and from the corner of her eyes she sees Madeleine with a group of ladies. The room is nicely decorated with beautiful flower arrangements and live piano music. In every table there were a selection of teacakes, macaroons, scones with Cornish clotted cream and strawberry preserve, tiny sandwiches and other exquisite pastries. Regina was trying to be extremely nice, introducing Catherine to the other ladies.

After chatting with each one of the ladies, Catherine and Hana headed to their table and soon Regina joined them.

„Are you enjoying the tea party, your Grace“, Madeleine comes from behind Catherine and sits down by her side.

Catherine glances shortly at Hana before putting on a fake smile and turning her head to Madeleine, „Hi Madeleine. Yes, it’s been delightful so far. Are you enjoying it?“

“Well, enjoying isn’t the exactly the word I’d go for. I know most of the ladies in here. They are from lower nobility classes, looking for the opportunity of their lives…“, Madeleine stares at Catherine with a grin on her lips.

„Oh yeah? And what kind of opportunity are you talking about?“, Catherine asks curious.

At this Moment Regina starts saying, „Well, I’m not sure if you know but in a Cordonian marriage is quite common for both parties to have extra conjugal relationships. And as future Queen, it is your duty to choose Liam at least two of these beautiful ladies“.

„Do you see Lady Anne and Lady Cassandra over there? Those I chose for him before we got married… his mistresses will live in the palace. Of course not in your quarter but they should be available whenever their King desires“, Madeleine looks over at Catherine and her face is blank.

„Okay… Regina and Madeleine, Liam doesn’t need a mistress. I’m pretty sure that he doesn’t want one. It may be usual in a political marriage or a marriage of interests but we love each other. There will be no third person in our bed“, Catherine stares deeply into Regina’s eyes.

Madeleine laughs quietly, „Listen, Catherine, this monarchy is much older than your own country. If you wanna survive as Queen, you better accept that… your relationship with Liam is everything but normal, there are rules and you will follow them or you will have to leave“. Suddenly, Catherine feels extremely sick and tries to get up from her chair but Madeleine grabs her arm forcefully, „Now, you listen to me. Do you see the table on our left? Those ‚Ladies‘ I introduced you to? Why don’t you choose two of them and you can go… Liam has already pre-approved each one of them a few months ago. Lady Sophia, for example, spent 48 hour in a hotel in Paris with Liam… as you know, our King doesn’t lack of stamina. Lady Jasmin, on the other hand, spent a couple of days in his Yacht… oh, haven’t you two spent some lovely days cruising the Mediterranean? I hope it doesn’t bother you too much that you weren’t the first one. And lady Agnieszka, he sent a plane to Saint Petersburg to bring her to Cordonia for the weekend… I don’t need to tell you the things he might have done to her… probably in your room…“. Catherine feel the pain coming back and it makes her so dizzy she can’t concentrate.

„Enough, Madeleine!“, Hana stands up, „We are leaving… you two should be ashamed of yourselves!“, Hana takes Catherine’s hand and helps her to stand up.

„But I didn’t finish yet…“, Madeleine says laughing while Hana and Catherine leave the room.

Hana leads Catherine to the parlor and after a couple of minutes in silence, she says, „You are pale and your hands are cold. I gotta call someone“.

„I think I am a little dehydrated, I feel so dizzy I don’t think I can go up the stairs…“, Catherine says, her hand is on her belly. „Would you please call Leo?“, she hands her phone to Hana.

Hana immediately calls him and tells Leo to come as fast as he can. Meanwhile, Catherine wraps her arms around her stomach in pain. She tries to takes deep breaths but it doesn’t help.

When Leo arrives, he walks up to Catherine, „You don’t look good, Katie… What happened? I thought you guys were having tea with Regina!“. Hana told him what happened in the tea room. „What the fuck is wrong with those two? Liam is going to kill them…“. He offers a hand to Catherine, „Let’s go, I’m taking you to your room and then I’ll let the doctor know you aren’t feeling well”.

When Catherine stands up, Hana notices blood in the back of her dress, „Katie, you are bleeding…“, she says. Shortly after Hana finishes her sentence, Catherine faints, being caught by Leo.

„No, no, no.. this isn’t good! Okay, I gotta take her to the hospital… You tell the guards to not allow Madeleine or Regina to leave this palace. They should take them to Liam’s office and stay there until I come back!“, Leo holds Catherine in his arms and runs to the front door, getting her into his car and rushing to the hospital.

During the short drive to the hospital, he let them know that he would be arriving with Catherine and in less than 15 minutes he parked in the back entrance of the hospital, where a team was already waiting for her. Leo watched her go before leaving to park his car. Nervous with the situation, he called his brother but nobody answered the call. Then he tried Bastien:

„Bastien, where is Liam?“, he says apprehensive.

„He is in a call, can I help you with anything?“, Bastien asks.

„I need to talk to him. Catherine is in the hospital“

„I see, give me a second…“, Bastien puts him on hold and soon Liam in on the other side of the line.

„What is it, brother? Did you cause a fire in the palace again?“, Liam chuckles.

„Li, listen to me… you better come back! Regina and Madeleine are out of control…“, he says agitated.

„Okay, you are making me nervous… what is going on, Leo?“

„Catherine is in the hospital, I think she and the baby aren’t doing well… she was bleeding, you better get here fast, Liam. I’ll tell you what happened once you arrive!“, Leo explains.

„I’m on my way“, Liam says angrily, „Don’t let them leave… I’m going to deal with those two once and for all“.

To be continued…

For more chapters go to my MASTERLIST in my bio.

—————

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carmenlire · 5 years

Text

Color Me Blue Ch. IV

read chapter one

read chapter two

read chapter three

read on ao3

Magnus is just taking his pecan sandies out of the oven when he hears the bell chime at the front door.

Carefully placing his tray on his stainless steel work table, he throws the towel he’d used as an oven mitt over his shoulder and heads to the public floor of the bakery.

He’s delighted when he sees none other than Alec walking up to the counter.

“If it isn’t my favorite doctor,” Magnus teases and ignores the niggling guilt for throwing Catarina under the bus.

Alec smiles warmly at him and it takes considerable effort for Magnus to keep his swooning under control. Alec’s visited the bakery every day since Christmas, albeit at unpredictable hours.

Magnus is only open from the early morning to mid afternoon and Alec had shown up at any and every hour. A few days ago he’d wandered in just a few minutes after Magnus had unlocked the front door. Still in his scrubs, he had sheepishly admitted that he was on a fifteen minute break and missed his hot chocolate.

Alec had ended up staying almost half an hour and all but running out the door as Magnus's laughter followed after him.

It's only been a week since he first met Alec but he’s quickly become the highlight of his day. Magnus spent most of yesterday thinking up recipes that Alec might like and he’d been torn between two different ones. Based on his preference for chocolate, Magnus had been playing around with a triple fudge brownie that was sure to blow Alec’s socks off.

He’d attempted his first batch earlier in the morning and before Alec can say anything, Magnus is reaching for them. They aren’t bad but they aren’t perfect either. There was something missing and Magnus knew that he most likely had another half a dozen attempts before the brownies were ready for unfettered access to his display case.

“If it isn’t my favorite baker,” Alec says without missing a beat.

“What brings you in today, Alexander?”

“It’s been a remarkably slow afternoon and I thought I’d go off campus for lunch today.”

Magnus narrows his eyes as he considers Alec’s words. He slides the brownie over to him on a custom plate he’d had designed for his bakery when was first thinking of opening the space and watches Alec’s expression carefully.

Alec doesn’t say anything and neither does Magnus as he takes a bite. Magnus watches him with an eagle gaze and reaches for a pad of paper and a pencil, ready to take notes.

He gives Alec enough time to swallow the first bite before his patience reaches its limits.

“Well, what do you think, darling? You're trying my first attempt at a triple fudge brownie and I’d love to know your thoughts.”

Alec hums a little but before he offers an opinion, he takes another bite that’s half the size of the baked good.

“It’s amazing,” he says, mouth disgustingly full.

Magnus wrinkles his nose but he can’t stop the faint hint of fondness that creeps into his tone as he replies, “I need more than that. What’s missing? What works and what doesn’t? If I’m going to put these on my rotational menu, then they need to be the best brownies you’ve ever eaten.”

“They’re pretty good.” Alec sends him a tentative look before adding, “They might be missing something though if you’re aiming for the best brownie ever.”

Sighing, Magnus replies, “That’s what I thought but I can’t think of anything to add. I’ve got dark chocolate batter, semisweet chocolate chips, and fudge icing. I don’t know what I can throw in that won’t overpower everything.”

Thinking about it, Alec polishes off the brownie. He looks at Magnus one last time for confirmation that he really is looking for the truth before hesitantly offering, “What if you added sea salt? That--”

“Could cut through the overwhelming chocolate flavor. Excellent,” Magnus exclaims and he starts furiously writing on his notepad.

“Glad I could help,” Alec says dryly but Magnus only half-hears him as he thinks about how to incorporate salt. He could bake the salt directly into the batter? Or will people want to see the salt flakes in the icing--

Magnus’s thinking is interrupted by the clearing of a throat. He looks up only to meet Alec’s expectant look. He looks equal parts like he’s waiting for something and like he doesn’t really want to interrupt Magnus and Magnus feels a warm sense of fondness for him.

Really, Alec is too cute for words sometimes, Magnus thinks and raises a brow at his favorite customer.

“Yes, darling? What is it?”

“Can I have another brownie,” Alec asks, looking down at the display case where there are only a few left. Even if Magnus wasn’t particularly in love with them-- yet-- his customers today had been eager to try something new from him.

“Of course,” Magnus says absently, going back to his notepad. “As long as you wash your hands first you can help yourself.”

Magnus chews on the end of his pencil as he thinks about ratios. He could start with half a teaspoon in the batter and see how that works out or add to the batter and the top with a sprinkle-- really, the possibilities are endless.

It takes him a minute but Magnus slowly becomes aware that Alec hasn’t moved from his spot. He looks up to see Alec staring at him with a surprised look.

“Yes?”

“Are you sure,” Alec asks, voice tentative. “I don’t want to overstep my bounds and go behind the counter.”

Magnus waves that away. “I wouldn’t have said that if I didn’t mean it. I’d think that I could trust you to get a brownie by this point.”

“We haven’t known each other that long,” Alec protests, moving around the counter to the sink by the espresso machine. He washes his hands and Magnus can’t help the way his eyes drift over Alec’s back, down to an ass that he definitely wouldn’t mind getting his hands on.

He startles, snapping his head up as Alec looks over his shoulder at him. Clearing his throat, Magnus dryly replies, “There’s just something about you. I trust you with my pastries, Alexander. Don’t make me regret it.”

Alec laughs as he dries his hands on a towel before turning toward the display case. He carefully selects another brownie-- a corner piece, Magnus notes-- and dumps it on his plate.

“Thanks,” Alec murmurs and Magnus makes a sound of agreement before he looks up unexpectedly.

“That isn’t lunch,” Magnus accuses.

“Sorry,” Alec asks, startled.

“You said that you were here for lunch. You can’t eat two brownies and call that a meal. Not only is that extremely unhealthy but it won’t sustain you on your four day shift.”

“I get off work at ten tonight.”

“See,” Magnus asks, sending Alec a victorious look. “Wait here,” he grumbles and starts toward the back.

He comes out just a couple of minutes later with half a sandwich and a bag of chips. Without saying anything, he moves to one of the tables in the front of the bakery and plops down. When Alec looks at him, confusion written all over his face, Magnus just waves expansively to the seat across from him.

“I didn’t eat all of my lunch so you can have the rest. At least this way you won't get a stomach ache from too many sweets,” he mutters, pushing the plate further onto Alec’s side of the table.

Magnus has a brief moment to worry that he’d been too forward but Alec brings his half eaten brownie with him and sits down. He smiles at Magnus.

“I can’t eat your food,” he says and Magnus rolls his eyes.

“Of course you can, Alexander, don’t be silly. Not only am I offering it to you but I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if you ended up working a fourteen hour surgery on a couple of brownies.” Magnus infuses his voice with grave responsibility and Alec laughs, shaking his head as he slowly reaches for the sandwich.

Alec snorts. “Dork,” he says under his breath, just loud enough for Magnus to hear.

“Takes one to know one,” Magnus fires back and Alec barks out a laugh before taking his first bit of the sandwich.

“Ham,” he mutters. “My favorite.”

Magnus beams at the admission and the two of them enjoy several minutes of conversation as Alec eats his lunch. Magnus even grabs a mug of tea, settling back in his seat as Alec starts on the chips.

It’s perfectly ordinary but Magnus finds that he can’t remember the last time he enjoyed himself so much over a meal. Alec is an interesting man and has no trouble keeping the conversation going.

For someone he didn’t know a week ago, Magnus reflects that Alec’s quickly become a friend.

The conversation winds down and Magnus takes their dishes to the back while Alec cleans up the small mess he’d made.

Magnus gets back to the table just as Alec stands up. They bump into each other and Magnus reaches out a hand on reflex, laying it against Alec’s side to steady him.

Alec looks up before he freezes. Curious, Magnus follows the direction of his gaze and freezes too as he sees what’s hanging over their heads.

Damn it, he thinks. I should have taken my Christmas decorations down by now.

It’s December 29th and Magnus usually takes them down the day after Christmas. He’d been distracted the past few days, though, and hadn’t gotten to them yet.

There’s a mistletoe above them and when Magnus lowers his head it’s to see Alec already looking at him with that laser-focused stare that makes Magnus unforgivably breathless.

There’s a moment, suspended in time, and Magnus knows that it’s not just his imagination when Alec’s eyes drop to his mouth.

On reflex, his tongue darts out to wet his lips and Alec shifts imperceptibly closer. Magnus is just leaning in, eyes closing, when the silence of the bakery is startled by noise.

They both flinch back and Magnus uses the space to clear his head as Alec’s hand goes to the beeper at his waist. He looks at the number before cursing, looking back up at Magnus as he starts toward the door, an apology already forming on his lips.

“I’m sorry Magnus but apparently there was a fourteen car pile-up on the Manhattan Bridge and they’re being directed to Tisch. I have to be there when the first ambulance arrives.”

Magnus is nodding as Alec explains, already waving him away. “Go do your job, darling. I wouldn’t dream of standing in your way.”

Alec steps back until he reaches the front door. He hesitates-- looks ready to say something-- but he closes his mouth and nods to himself before turning on his heel and striding down the sidewalk.

The door closes behind him, the little bell jarring in the new silence.

Magnus frowns as he heads to the counter. Looking at the clock he sees that he passed closing time a few minutes ago and starts to take away the remaining pastries from the case to pack them up.

He never has too much left over-- thank God-- but whatever he does have at the end of each day is wrapped up and sent to a few shelters around the city. It’s not much but Magnus hates the idea of wasting perfectly fine food just because it’s a day old.

He uses the next hour to prep some of his dough for the morning and he’s just cleaning the last of his work table when his cell starts vibrating.

Pulling his phone from his pocket, he smiles as he sees the caller.

“Hello dear,” he says, answering the phone. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“You know damn well why I’m calling Magnus. My party is day after tomorrow and you still haven’t told me if you’re bringing a date.”

Magnus scowls at Catarina’s quick response as he unties the apron from around his waist and hooks it over the door.

“I believe I still have two days before you get your greedy little fingers on my dating life.”

“Don’t you see? I have to plan. If you don’t already have someone in mind, I was going to invite the doctor I told you about.”

Sighing, Magnus stares at the door where he’d watched Alec make a mad dash from earlier. He thinks about that charged moment under the mistletoe and can’t decide if he’s annoyed or relieved that Alec had been called to work.

Thinking about Catarina's New Year’s Eve party, Magnus is exhausted just thinking about trying to make small talk with a stuffy doctor. He’d much rather spend the night with Alexander but Magnus very much fears that he’d just watched his chances for a date go up in smoke with Alec’s retreat.

Truthfully, there’s no one else that he’d want to bring anyway. There's not even a hint of interest for anyone else and Magnus doesn’t have the time or inclination to try to find someone else on such short notice.

Cat is silent on the line, letting Magnus think things through, and Magnus resolves to ask Alec tomorrow if he'd like to join him at the New Year’s Eve party when he comes in for his usual hot chocolate and pastry. The worst that can happen is he says no and Magnus decides then and there that he won’t let said rejection ruin the budding friendship they have.

He really hopes Alec says yes, though.

Plan of action in mind-- Magnus can always tell Cat that he found a date after all and can be careful to avoid any other doctors at the party-- Magnus grudgingly admits, “I don’t have a date yet.”

Catarina laughs-- far more than Magnus thinks is appropriate. “I have to say I’m glad to hear that. I’m telling you Magnus, this guy is perfect for you. You like them handsome and a bit of an asshole and he’s got both those things in spades. He’s a secret softie though,” Cat continues conspiratorially. “He always sneaks lollipops to the kids that come to the ER and he once sat with a wife for hours while she waited for her husband to wake up from a baseball injury. He just doesn’t like anyone to know.”

“Why does he need your help getting a date if he’s so perfect,” Magnus asks, not willing to admit that her description does seem to suit him.

“Didn’t you hear me? He’s a bit of an asshole. He usually looks annoyed and most of the staff here try not to get in his way. Plus, he might have a tendency to work a little more than he should.”

“Oh, don’t tell me this doctor is a workaholic,” Magnus says sarcastically. “I have yet to meet one that didn’t eat, breathe, and sleep their career.”

“I think he just needs to realize that there’s life outside of the hospital. Just give him a chance, Magnus, and if it doesn’t work out I’ll back off. I promise.”

Magnus mulls getting Catarina off his back versus having to put up with a doctor all evening. Unfortunately, if Alec doesn’t pull through, it really isn’t much of a choice.

“Okay, dear,” Magnus sighs. “We have a deal.”

He hears Catarina cheer from the other end of the line and rolls his eyes at her penchant for drama. It rivals Ragnor’s, which is saying quite a lot.

The two of them chat for a few more minutes before hanging up and Magnus goes through the rest of his closing routine without further interruption. He locks Bane’s Bakery and starts walking in the direction of his apartment, huddling in his coat to keep warm against the vicious New York wind.

He spends most of his commute home thinking about Alec. He’s already thinking about making a batch of salted fudge brownies tomorrow and can’t wait to see Alec’s reaction.

The rest of the night passes with little fanfare and Magnus goes to bed dreadfully early as always and wake before the sun the next morning.

Most of the day passes in a blur. The bakery is busier than usual and it’s almost noon before Magnus comes up for air.

Every time the door opens, he hopes it’s Alec. It’s not until he’s closing at two, though, that Magnus realizes that Alec never came in. This is the first time in days that he hasn’t seen Alec and Magnus is overwhelmingly disappointed.

It’s not until Alec doesn’t come in on December 31st, though, that Magnus wonders whether or not Alec is avoiding him.

Replaying their last afternoon together, Magnus wonders if that mistletoe mishap meant more to him than it did to Alec and if Alec hadn’t decided to make a strategic yet subtle retreat.

Getting ready for the party that evening, Magnus hopes that this doctor Catarina is so excited over likes to drink because Magnus plans on ringing in the New Year drunk enough not to care that the most interesting man he’d met in the past year didn’t see him like that.

With a sigh, he picks up his wine bottle that he’d bought as a hostess gift and leaves the loft, headed to Catarina’s party and a date that he couldn’t care less about.

#my writing #color me blue

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