#my mom reads all the time but our tastes don't really line up | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

cherrykindness · 3 years

Text

let's make babies |

pairing: Harry Styles x Actress!Reader

summary: you and harry are doing a live on instagram, you've drunk a lot of wine and now the world knows that the future Mrs. Styles is ready to make babies.

warnings: mostly cute, but the title tells you what you need to know 🤪

"What is your favorite song from the Fine Line album?" Y/N read aloud, twirling in her right hand the second glass of wine of the evening, the one already halfway through. "Adore You and Watermelon Sugar, of course."

Harry giggled, rolling his eyes upon hearing his fiancée's statement.

"Y/N will always choose Adore You because it was obviously written for her." He accused. "She wouldn't give that answer under different circumstances."

The comments climbed up the screen continuously, most fans gushing about how cute Harry Styles and YN/LN could be while the other part was concerned with wringing even more information out of the slightly inebriated couple who had decided to do a surprise live one early Sunday morning.

As expected after being away for some time to begin filming Don't Worry, Darling in Southern California, Harry enjoyed a lazy weekend in the house he shared with his fiancée and her pets. The days were filled with late naps and relentless Netflix marathons, sublime and ethereal evenings, marked mostly by unexpected declarations and rounds of sex that used to last until the beams of light were shyly coming through the linen curtains. They were not a monotonous couple, so this order could easily be changed.

"Watermelon Sugar is nothing more than about my love for watermelons, don't get too creative." Harry replied to a fan while sporting a corner smile, the message standing out among the rest for its dozens of emojis and large print, questioning the singer about erotic content behind the lyrics of his latest hit. "I really don't know what you guys are talking about."

Y/N laughed, shaking her head before leaning it against her fiancé's chest, propped up on the soft white pillows that were spread practically all over the bed. The air conditioner was on at a minimal temperature and a light rain whipped on the panes of glass camouflaged by the cream-colored curtain, that being the projection of Y/N's favorite nights.

"You can tell them, I'm not shy." She joked, nudging her fiancé's waist.

"You know what it was written about and who it was written for." Harry replied, raising one of his eyebrows. "That's what matters."

It went without saying that much of Harry's newest album, as well as some of his earlier work, had been done in exclusive dedication to his future wife. Y/N had been the muse for a vast repertoire of romantic songs, and even though the singer preferred to keep the story behind his more explicit compositions a "secret", the relationship the two had shared for more than three years was already solid and known enough for the media and fans to distinguish hidden messages in small details.

"It's a song about what usually comes before the act of making babies." Y/N laughed as he pointed at the display. "Honestly, you guys are impossible."

"No, we make babies every day." Harry joked, making a funny motion with his eyebrows. "I would spend my entire career writing just about that."

"Harry!" The actress exclaimed incredulously, slapping her fiancé weakly on the chest. "Children might be watching this."

"You don't want to have babies with me?" He asked falsely offended, accepting the cup that Y/N offered him. "Because I want some babies with you."

Y/N laughed, rolling her eyes as she watched the internet freak out at the dialogue that had suddenly emerged. Since the beginning of the quarantine, it was kind of inevitable that the couple of artists would not become the darlings of all social media; they were fervently active with photos, videos, and lives that depicted step by step daily life in isolation, gaining more and more followers and making the media more and more fascinated by the relationship they both shared.

The wedding was scheduled for the summer of next year and it was perhaps the most anticipated event in the tabloids. Bets about what the model of Y/N's dress would be and lists presuming who would be selected for the short list of guests stood out among countless news stories about the famous people influencing pop culture today.

The possible arrival of a Styles baby was an inevitable topic in interviews. Harry and Niall were the only members of the ex-boyband that had not become fathers yet, and because they had maintained a solid relationship and were seen as one of the most enviable couples during the last four years, Y/N and Harry had gotten used to all this openly asked questions. They didn't mind, they even had fun with the montages and all the anxiety that dominated the whole internet, often mentioning the fandoms' efforts to represent them as such "cool" parents in perfectly edited pictures.

"No, guys, I'm not pregnant." Y/N amusingly clarified the doubt of dozens of new comments. "Please don't believe so many controversial news stories that appear out there. I was on twitter last week and saw several people theorizing about a possible pregnancy, most of the arguments based on a website that used photos from the set of How to Get Away with Murder in the season where I was actually playing a pregnant woman as Laurel." She laughed. "It's so funny! I know you guys love to guess these things, but we won't hide something so special when it actually happen, I promise."

"Especially because Y/N can hide absolutely nothing from anyone." Harry accused, leaving his drink on the corner table before settling into a comfortable position for the two of them. "Anyone who's a Marvel fan knows that. That's one of her most characteristic quirks."

"They gave me a fake script for the last two movies." Y/N agreed, shaking his head. "For me and Tom."

"We agreed to keep the engagement a secret for a while. The plan was to travel to Holmes Chapel to break the news to my family in person, but guess who got a call at ten o'clock at night from an angry Anne because she learned of her son's engagement from an interview Y/N gave the next day?"

Y/N gave a guilty smile, winking gracefully at the camera. "It was all James' fault! I'm sure he already suspected something, those questions were very suspicious."

"Of course the questions were suspicious, babe. You literally said you had a secret that involved both of us but that you couldn't tell because it was important that our families knew first."

"I thought he would think about a pregnancy or something!" The actress defended herself, feeling very convincing in her intonation bordering on obviousness. "That's a mania I can't get rid of, it's in my genes."

"Did you all hear that? Further proof that you guys don't have to worry about guessing when Y/N's pregnancy will be, I'm sure our baby will make sure to tell you everything while still in the womb, mom's genes will make sure of that."

"You are so funny, Harry Styles." Y/N sarcastically stated, holding back a giggle as countless messages with laughing emojis were frantically up. "Yeah, I know I talk a lot and all, but you have annoying quirks too."

It was obvious that live would be news the next day. Although they were completely open about matters concerning their relationship, nothing seemed better than receiving so much exclusive information from a Harry and S/N drunk on expensive wine.

"You wake up in a bad mood and you're dangerously sexy, that should be illegal."

Harry laughed, holding his fiancée's waist a little tighter as he felt her tumble a little further to the side, getting closer and closer to the edge of the bed. Y/N was dangerously weak for drinks, and the singer knew that the actress' body was already near its limit.

"You're the only sexy person here, love." He declared with a corner smile, evidently finding the whole situation funny. "Do you want to go to sleep now?"

"No." Y/N shook her head. "Can we watch some movie? Can we watch Sweet Home?"

"Of course, love." He murmured, giving the woman a quick kiss on the forehead.

Even though Harry knew that his fiancée was unlikely to make it past the five-minute mark of the episode, he made sure to restart the korean series at exactly the scene where she had stopped, the first chapter still halfway through after Y/N realized that it would be impossible to watch such a macabre work without a drop of alcohol in her blood.

She had been so excited by the taste of Argentinian wine and the idea of updating her fans after a few weeks away, that she had forgotten the main purpose of the live. Harry and Y/N had been apart for a few days due to the new movie the Brit was shooting in North America, all happening in an unrestrictedly careful manner due to the restrictions caused by the pandemic.

He was slowly migrating towards acting and the future Mrs. Styles couldn't be prouder. Y/N had felt on cloud nine when Harry had given her the news of his upcoming job, but her only pronouncement on the subject had been a succinct post on instagram. Just a photo of the couple on a trip to Germany with a simple heart emoji didn't seem enough for the actress' exhibitionist soul, and coming to that conclusion was the main reason she decided to invite him, already relatively changed, for a live appearance. Y/N wanted to go on and on about how much she loved that man and work on that whole honeyed speech that would bring her (once again) the title of "cutest bride of all time," but of course Harry had to come home from his trip with his favorite red wine and poison her with those sweet caresses that took her out of orbit, turning the degree of alcohol content into the least of her problems.

"You're going to kiss Florence." Y/N exclaimed suddenly, as if only now realizing that her fiancé would share the screen with Florence Pugh, one of her closest friends in that industry. "Kiss on the mouth."

The MacBook was still open and hundreds of new comments were going up every second, but Harry didn't bother one bit to warn her about the possibility of her becoming a meme the next day. He was having too much fun with the situation to worry.

"Are you jealous?"

"Yes." She stated with a pout. "I am jealous, I just don't know if I'm more jealous of her or of you."

"But you kiss me every day, babe." Harry laughed. "And you've been kissing other people's men for almost ten years." He joked.

"But I only think about you, I already told you that."

Harry shook his head negatively at the camera, knowing he was sharing with the fans the funniest side of his fiancée.

"I know that, honey." He assured, lightly stroking the actress' back. "I think we'd better turn off the TV and go to sleep now, I'm sure you'll have a terrible headache tomorrow."

The brit planned to bid his audience goodbye and put an end to that recording, but Y/N was drunk and her sense of right and wrong had already gone to space. Harry should have been quicker, however, because his fiancée's speech would be cause for new tags and the only subject for the interviewers for at least the next few months.

"I don't want to sleep, how about we make babies?"

That's what Watermelon Sugar was all about, after all.

#harry styles imagine #imagine1d #imagine harry styles #harry x reader #harry styles x reader #fluffy imagine #harry fluff #actress reader

1K notes · View notes

yuyuntianyu · 3 years

Text

[2HA analysis blog] To love you is torment but leave you I cannot

I wanted to write this (hopefully not-too-long) blog to give 2HA fandom a different perspective of the events in the past timeline. I noticed that there are many little things that could not be carried over to the English language. These little things can give more explanations to our characters’ actions so I hope sharing this would help the novel make more sense. This blog focuses on Taxian-jun and Chu Fei.

Warning: Spoilers ! ! ! Taxian-jun and Chu Fei are their own trigger warnings ! ! !

Despite the novel having 350 chapters, we really know little about what happened between Taxian-jun and Chu Fei besides the abuse and mistreatment and that little is relayed to us by the Most Unreliable Narrator of the Cultivation World - Mo Ran Mo Weiyu. If we only take Mo Ran for his words then a lot of his and Chu Wanning’s decisions told later on would seem irrational and almost silly. So let’s dive deep in the past so we can understand how the great cultivator Beidou Xian-zun could raise such a dumb husky since the events in the past would explain the more irrational decisions made by both main characters.

Given Mo Ran’s narrator is about as reliable as his character in the first 120 chapters, we have to look at other more subtle clues and some of them are due to cultural and linguistic differences.

1. I used to like you a lot

At his coronation day, Taxian-jun stated that he once greatly looked up to Chu Wanning and that he used to love and respect him dearly. Maybe I am reading into this too much but this is my theory: The flower could erase the memory itself but cannot erase the feelings associated with the memory. He had his memories of the good deeds Chu Wanning did for him erased but still remembered that he used to love and respect him. It doesn’t make sense unless it is indeed that the flower could not erase its host’s feelings. So throughout the novel, Mo Ran’s complicated emotions are complicated possibly because he could not remember how he came to have these feelings. Similarly, Hua Binan could mess with the undead Taxian-jun’s memory to a great extent but could not erase his obsession with Chu Wanning.

2. I gave you a new title

Chu Fei. 楚妃. In the Imperial Chinese harem hierarchy, “Fei” means consort and not concubine (嬪 “Pín"). Consorts were highly respected positions in the palace weidling much political power and were only seconds to the Empress Consort. Another major difference is a consort would be married to the emperor while a concubine would not. So if Taxian-jun had truly wanted to only humiliate Chu Wanning and keep him for the carnal pleasures (I am intentionally ignoring his breeding kink completely), he would keep him as a concubine but he gave Chu Wanning the Consort title and hid him from the world. At this point, Taxian-jun had almost lost Chu Wanning once and had spent a lot of effort to bring him back from the verge of death after hearing Chu Wanning’s apology so his anger might have softened a bit. Also, given that Chu Wanning is a man, having a legitimate offspring ( (I am still intentionally ignoring Mo Ran's breeding kink completely) is not an issue so although this is not clearly stated, I believe Taxian-jun wanted to force a relationship and somewhat proper marriage on Chu Wanning. Another hint of this is in an Extra chapter where Taxian-jun tried to get Chu Wanning a birthday gift. He recalled that in his past timeline, he had wanted Chu Wanning to give him something on his birthday as well and that he had wanted Chu Wanning’s heart.

3. Shizun likes to write letters and poems

On Book 3 Chapter 247, Chu Wanning sat down and wrote a few unsent letters to the people he used to know. He also wrote a few lines of poetry. In the first few lines taken from different literature works, he expressed his sense of helplessness and his wish to remain untainted despite the circumstances. The more important two lines are from a poem written by a real poet named Fàn Chéngdà ( 范成大) who lived in the 12th century Southern-Song dynasty. The two lines read:

“May I be like the stars, may you* be as the moon. Night after night, may we shine together side by side.” **

*In the original work, the character used instead of you is “jun” 君 (as in 踏仙君 Taxian-jun). 君 could mean king, emperor, lord, or gentleman ** This is my rough translation - I haven’t found an English version of this poem

These two lines are commonly used in romantic novels as a way to express one’s unchanging love and loyalty to another person despite the circumstances. He compared himself as the stars and wanted to remain by Taxian-jun whom he viewed as the moon. Chu Wanning wrote this to express his willingness to stay but he would never voice this out loud. In the next timeline, he did the same thing by quietly loving and caring for Mo Ran 1.0 despite the mistreatment and was content with never expressing his feelings vocally. Mo Ran was rather uneducated and thus could not fully comprehend these two lines and misunderstood that Chu Wanning was missing Xue Meng.

4. You are all I have left

In chapter 252, after Chu Wanning returned to The Red Lotus Pavilion, he found Taxian-jun already waiting for him. Taxian-jun told Chu Wanning about a dream he had and said:

“I am afraid I don’t resent you… I want to resent you… Otherwise, I…” “In the end, it’s just you and I”.

This is not the first time he expressed that Chu Wanning was all he had left or they only had each other. I believe that at this point, Taxian-jun might have somewhat believed Chu Wanning and recognized that his memories were missing. His words and behaviors seemed a lot more gentle and he mentioned they did have periods of time where their marriage was easier. I believe it was after this point. He told us about the numerous times he attempted to spoil his consort or expressed his affection through gifts, a trip outside the palace, goods, jewels, and even teaching Chu Wanning how to cook or personally taking care of Chu Wanning when he was sick. At one point, Taxian-jun expressed his wish for a more peaceful marriage with Chu Wanning through his breeding kink by saying that if they had children, perhaps they would be more civil towards each other.

Edit: I really wanted to go about this blog without having to refer to their particular taste in bed

5. Are you still mad?

This is a smaller detail but in the original text and the Vietnamese official translation, the way they talked to each other had a bit more of the “husband-wife” dynamic. Especially Chu Wanning ( l┐(︶▽︶)┌ ), the comment section said he sounded like when your wife is mad that you didn’t take out the trash but still says: “I’m not mad” and Taxian-jun, the husband, would come around and ask “Are you still mad at me?” after every fight.

6. I did not think you would really leave me.

On Chapter 99, Mo Ran recalled the fight between him and Chu Wanning after an assassination attempt. In order to convince Mo Ran to not go to Taxue Palace, Chu Wanning said:

“If you destroy Taxue palace, if you kill Xue Meng, I will die before you”.

Now the line “I will die before you” in my language is less of a suicidal ideation but more of a threat. It's used when a person already knows that they are important to the other person and is using their own death as a threat to make the other person do something. This line is thrown around a lot during heated arguments between people close to each other but they almost never mean it. (Even my mom said it numerous times before T_T . I personally think it’s manipulative). Therefore, it is understandable Taxian-jun did not take this line seriously and replied almost mockingly. After all, they had been married for almost a decade at that point, Taxian-jun probably felt somewhat comfortable that Chu Wanning would not do anything reckless. He could not foresee that Chu Wanning meant what he said and actually followed through with his words. I believe that if Taxian-jun had known that Chu Wanning was serious, Taxian-jun would not have gone to Taxue Palace. 7. Don't leave me, ok?

Then Chu Wanning died and Mo Ran spent two years alone. In those two years, we know he basically went insane because of grief, talked to a corpse everyday, and deep fried his Empress Consort. But strangely enough, Mo Ran 1.0 did not immediately mention this after being reborn although it was the main reason he committed suicide. And at that point, it had been well over a decade since Shi Mei faked his death in the past timeline, yet Mo Ran 1.0 seemed to still hold a lot of resentment towards Chu Wanning. Also, he said he could accept Shi Mei’s death but would never accept Chu Wanning’s. So honestly, it did not make sense to me the first time I read the novel and I believed Mo Ran resented Chu Wanning for a different reason.

The answer was first hinted at in chapter 9 when Mo Ran scolded the sleeping Chu Wanning. He called Chu Wanning a donkey hoof (lol) and this is actually an idiom to scold someone who is disloyal and unfaithful in love. The puzzles came together when the undead Taxian-jun showed up and immediately went after Chu Wanning (and not Shi Mei). He believed Chu Wanning used his death to hurt him and was angry at Chu Wanning for leaving him. This is the resentment Mo Ran 1.0 carried over to the next timeline. He hated Chu Wanning for abandoning him. This is solidified in chapter 262 by the undead Taxian-jun pleading to Chu Wanning:

“Don’t betray me” “Don’t leave me the second time. The first time you left, I could choose death as a relief. This time, even death is not an option any more… I won’t be able to bear it…”

So there it is! I hope this blog brings some new information and feel free to discuss! Let me know if you have any questions for me ＼(￣▽￣)／

Disclaimer: Plenty of this is my conclusion drawn from the already ambiguous original text and various translations. Unless Meatbun says it, it’s not canon. I am looking at the novel in three different languages so I might have made some mistakes. Pls forgive. Also, I am not making excuses for Mo Ran 0.5’s actions nor am I justifying the abuse in any way. Chu Wanning never said Mo Ran 0.5 was innocent of these crimes nor will I.

#2ha #the husky and his white cat shizun #chu wanning #mo ran #mo weiyu #ranwan #taxian jun #chu fei #erha #husky is dumb but husky tried his best

493 notes · View notes

starlightxsvt · 3 years

Text

Sweeter Than Sweets l pt. 3

Pairing ➳ CEO! Seungcheol x female baker!reader

Genre ➳ fluff, romance, slight smut

Warnings ➳ light cursing, some nudity, implications of sex (forgive me if it's bad, this is my first time trying to write smut)

Word count ➳ around 4.1k

A/N: Here's the third chapter~ I'm really sorry for the delay. If everything goes according to plan then there's only one more chapter left! Thank you for giving this series such love, it means a lot to me. Happy reading!

part 1 l part 2 l part 3

Part 3: THE WEDDING

"It's okay, you're gonna be fine," Seungcheol throws a smile at you as you both stand at the front door of his parents house. You continue to smooth out your beautiful champagne coloured dress and touch your hair out of nervousness.

You are here. At his parents house.

The door is opened by a maid who welcomes you into the house. You both step in and take off your coats and you follow Seungcheol to the huge living room, where his mother sits with a book in her hands.

She squeals seeing Seungcheol, adoration crossing over her features as she wraps her arms around him and kisses his forehead. "You're here! I was worried you wouldn't show up!"

"You deserve a chance to get to know ___. She's amazing," his compliment brings warmth in your cheeks as he pulls you closer to his side.

His mother grins looking at you before pulling you into a hug, "Yes yes, of course." She kisses your cheeks before a soft bark comes from behind you and you turn to see a white fluffy toy poodle, wagging it's tail, eagerly staring at Seungcheol. The man in question grins before picking it up, "Heyy, Kkukma!"

"She's our family dog. Loves Seungcheol a bit too much," Seungcheol's mother explains and you smile, nodding before gently petting the dog who licks your hand in return.

You laugh. Seungcheol kisses Kkukma's forehead before announcing, "You guys continue chatting. I'll go play with Kkukma."

You swallow, watching him disappear into the garden and his mother grins at you, "Let me show you around."

His mother walks you through their elegant house while asking about how you met Seungcheol and such. You speak the rehearsed lines and she believes them easily, making you feel somewhat bad for the poor woman.

"Seungcheol really isn't good with women, you know," his mother says while you're served a cup of tea after finishing the tour.

You offer a smile in reply and take a sip. She continues, "He used to like a girl quite a while ago. Told me that he wanted to marry her. But sadly, she turned out to be a leech who was using him for his money."

"That's... awful," you frown. Seungcheol never told you about it. But then again you're his fake lover and you mentally curse yourself for getting too much into your role.

"I take it he didn't tell you about that," She smiles. "Don't worry, he's long over her. That just made him shut himself out more. He assumed that all women were after his money but I'm glad to see he found someone like you."

You cringe inwardly. You too, are here because of money more or less. You are doing all this because he promised you a shop.

"Me too," you agree with her, playing along. She smiles. A sound catches both of your attention and you see Seungcheol's father standing at the entrance of the living room, his wary eyes casted on you. You almost choke but quickly redeem yourself by standing up and saying hi. He disregards you completely with a grunt and walks away murmuring something unintelligible.

Seungcheol's mother sighs loudly, "I'm so sorry about him."

"It's okay, I understand. Seungcheol told me about him." You mutter.

His mother offers you a sad smile. "He's been so mean to Seungcheol. To us. It was my mistake that I married that beast."

You say nothing, just stare at the cup in your hands.

She continues, "I would have divorced him long ago but he would have taken full custody over Seungcheol. I couldn't win against a man like him and I couldn't loose Seungcheol."

"I see," you whisper. His mother gently holds your hand, "I sincerely hope you won't take his words to heart. He has always been like that. Nothing we do can make him happy."

You offer her a smile, "It's really okay, Mrs. Choi."

"Minsoo, please. You're gonna be me daughter in law soon," she smiles sweetly at you. "Which reminds me! We need to set a date!"

Warmth spreads on your face as you smile, "Yeah..."

And so she starts discussing with you about the dress the venue and such and you find yourself enjoying her company. She's kind and gives full attention to you and it fills the void created by your own mother. You know you're going to miss this woman after you're divorced.

Everyone gathers at the dining table during lunchtime, including Seungcheol's father. The environment is tense as Seungcheol takes a seat beside you, opposite to his parents.

Seungcheol drops a kiss on your temple and smiles at you, flashing his dimples and you almost melt into a puddle right there. Shit, have you got it that bad?

His father's eyes bore into the two of you, clearly disapproving.

Lunch starts as Seungcheol's mother initiates conversation with her son about work. It goes well for a while- you enjoying the served food and listening to them talk- until Mr. Choi decides to break it.

"What does your parents do?" He throws at you.

Seungcheol frowns, "Father-"

You stop him by squeezing his hand and smiling at him, "It's okay, babe, he should know."

Your eyes meet Mr. Choi's, "My mother separated with my father a long time ago so I don't have contact with him anymore. My mom runs a restaurant at the suburbs."

Mr. Choi is unimpressed, you can see it in his face as he seems to judge you even harder. Mrs. Choi, however, has a different reaction, "Oh dear! It must have been hard for your mother. I'd like to meet her sometime soon."

You smile at her, "My mom kind of isolated herself after the divorce but of course, I'll let her know."

Shit, you haven't even told her you're getting married yet.

Mrs. Choi's smile is kind as she resumes eating. Mr. Choi scoffs before grunting, "I still don't understand why you chose her, Seungcheol. I know you've always been stupid but now I know you're on another level, choosing her out of all women."

Wow. You're left dumbfounded at his straight forwardness. Beside you, Seungcheol grips the fork tight as his mother tries to chastise her husband. "Hyungmin, watch what you're saying!" she shrieks.

"What?" His glare is intimidating. "She's neither rich nor pretty. Your son could've had a better looking woman yet he-"

"Enough!" Seungcheol seethes making you jump.

This...isn't gonna end well.

You open your mouth to stop Seungcheol but he bangs his first on the table, teeth gritting, "What is your problem?" He glares at his father.

"I should ask that to you." His father is expressionless.

"All my life I've tried to be a good son, I tried to be good to you no matter how much of an asshole you were to me, to mom. I've accepted that you hate me, I've no problem with that but for once in your life, can't you be supportive of me?!"

His father scoffs, "How can I when you bring a thing like her?"

Seungcheol looks like he's ready to jump on his father as he bellows, "I swear to fucking God-"

"Seungcheol!" You grab onto his arms, trying to stop him as Mrs. Choi starts sobbing.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

"This is why I don't like coming here!" Seungcheol hisses at his mother before jerking free from your hold and marches away.

Seungcheol's father stands up, rolling his eyes, "And you expect me to hand my company to him?" It's directed to his wife.

Angry tears steam down Mrs. Choi's face, "He'd be a better president than you ever were! Your company has come this far only because of my son!"

Her words land on the back of Mr. Choi who blatantly ignores his wife and walks out of the room.

The room is silent except the sounds of Mrs. Choi, trying to get her tears under control. You hand her a tissue and sit silently, watching her dry her eyes.

"I'm so sorry," she says, her eyes casted down.

You offer her a small smile. Mr. Choi's words hurt you, definitely but it's not the end of the world. He's gonna be present in your life for only a small amount of time.

"It's alright, Mrs. Choi, it really is."

She sighs, gazing upon you, her eyes filled with...love. She stands up to embrace you in her arms and holds you there; your head to her chest as you listen to her breathe.

It's comforting and you feel a tear slip down your eye.

Seungcheol walks you all the way to your door like the gentleman he is. His mood is still sour and the car ride was filled with tension. You couldn't really blame him though.

You smile at him, "His words doesn't matter to me. I hope it's the same for you. You don't need to be stressed about what he says to me."

He looks at you, those rich brown eyes looking exhausted and he does something you never expected even in your dreams.

He hugs you.

His strong arms are wrapped around your small frame, your head pressed to his chest. Your heart beats furiously in your chest.

Is this really happening?

You inhale his scent deeply and when you wrap your arms around him too, you can't bring yourself to care. You want to feel him, to hold him. So you two just stand there in front of your door in each others arms for a long time.

"Would you like to come inside?" Your voice is small and shy as he pulls back to look at you. Shaking his head, he does yet another surprising thing.

"Can I kiss you?"

Holy mother of gods-

Your face is on fire, undoubtebly. Your mouth hangs low as you stare at him. Did he just...

He takes your silence as yes and leans in to press his lips against yours. They're soft and plush and he tastes somewhat bitter and sweet from the wine you had at his parent's house. It's addicting and you can't help but moan. He only dives in deeper, kissing you with such passion and need that you're left breathless.

He pulls back, his smoldering gaze on you and licks his lips. You swallow. Your panties are wet, fuck. You want to climb him like a tree but you can't bring yourself to move, locked in a trance.

A gentle kiss is pressed to your forehead that brings you back to reality and he mutters his goodbye, hurriedly ushering you in.

After you're in the safety of your home, you touch your swollen lips, mind traveling back to the kiss.

He kissed you.

Choi Seungcheol kissed you.

"Yes, I'm getting married," you repeat once more to your mother who stays silent on the other side of the line.

"Mom?"

"That's... sudden," her calm voice floats through. Yeah, and I'll be getting divorced too.

"Yeah, we've been dating for more than a year and yeah...he proposed me."

"Wow... nice." She pauses. "Did you fix a date yet?"

"Um, not yet but it's in the next two or three weeks. Also...Mrs. Choi wanted to meet you. Maybe...you could come and visit her sometime...I don't know." There's an awkward tension- it always has been ever since your dad left.

"I'll see if can manage time," she says.

"Okay..." You're about to hang up but her voice wavers through, "And send me a picture of your rich fiance."

"Oh, yeah, I will."

SOME WEEKS LATER

Jane squeals seeing you step out from behind the curtains. You're almost ready with the gown on and your makeup done, only the veil left to be put on.

"Oh my god!" She screams with glee, a grin on her face. "You! Look at you! Oh my god!"

You look gorgeous, undeniably. The wedding gown is almost too beautiful to be real and an expensive purchase, selected by Mrs. Choi. Your makeup and hair is done neatly and you almost don't recognize yourself. Jane only squeals from behind you time to time, saying how amazing you look.

"You're forgetting that this isn't a real wedding," you remind her, your tone bitter than you intended.

Jane raises a brow, "Why do you sound sad?"

Warmth covers your face, "I'm not!" It is a cheap lie, you do feel sad and you know that deep down you wished this was real.

Shit. You've got it really bad.

"Aww, babe," Jane hugs you tightly. "It's okay, it's gonna be okay. Who knows, Seungcheol may fall head over heels for you after seeing you in this."

You roll your eyes, "Not even in my wildest dreams."

A knock on the door interrupts you and your mother steps into the room, dressed in a cream colored dress, her hair neatly done. It has been a while since you last saw her dressed up.

"I'll leave you two to talk," Jane excuses herself, stepping out of the room.

"Hey," you smile tightly. She returns it. "You look beautiful," her words are short and her eyes are teary. There's a short silence before she sighs loudly,"I know I haven't been the best mom...but I'm really proud of you, I hope you know that."

You sigh; you really don't want to cry before your wedding- fake wedding. "It's okay," you give her a small smile and sit down in front of the mirror, "Can you help me with the veil?"

She steps in behind you and starts setting up the veil on your hair, speaking, "Seungcheol is a nice guy, I had a chat with him earlier. He'll take good care of you."

You resist the urge to heave out a sad sigh. Instead you grin as brightly as you can, "I know, right."

She finishes putting the veil on you and you stand up, looking at the mirror, gathering all the last bits of your courage.

"I could walk you down the isle you know...it doesn't always have to be dads," your mother whispers.

"It's okay, I'll do it on my own," you avoid her eyes. This is a fake wedding and you don't want her to walk you down the isle, no. Maybe when you get married for real one day- but not this time.

Giving your mother a quick hug, you step out of the dressing room.

The isle looks dreadful. Walking on a path full of thorns bare feet would've been easier. Seungcheol stands at the other end, his full attention on you. You inhale deeply and take small steps towards him- all the while his eyes on you. You are intimated and in the back of your mind you can't help thinking that this was a very bad decision. You feel pathetic. A bride without anyone to accompany her down the isle. A greedy woman agreeing to a fake marriage. A liar, lying to everyone through your teeth.

Each step only gets harder to take and after what feels like an eternity, you reach the end, stopping in front of him. His face doesn't give away anything. A small part of you wonders if he thinks you look beautiful- you hope he thinks that.

You take a step and get on the wooden stage with the help of his extended hand. The priest begins the ceremony. All the while, Seungcheol's eyes are dark, glinting like a predator who has finally captured his prey.

He smirks. "I do."

With tears burning in the back of your eyes, you repeat after him, overwhelmed with emotions.

When he leans in for the kiss, you forget to breathe as your lips meet and he kisses you softly yet passionately. The guests cheer for you and when you look at them, you see joy, contradicting to what you feel. For some reason tears threaten to slip but you smile, forcing them away.

One fake marriage can't end your life.

You enjoy the rest of the ceremony more than you thought you would, all the worries slipping away from your system as you watch everyone celebrate. Time to time you take peeks at Seungcheol to see him staring at you- his eyes dark and intense, sending a shiver down your spine.

You've spent a good amount of him hanging out with him during the weeks before your wedding, either at his apartment, yours or a nice restaurant. You've only found yourself more drawn to him as you spent more time and after each date ended you wanted him to kiss you like he did after that visit to his parents' house. Unfortunately for you, Seungcheol kept his hands totally off you, only giving you quick forehead pecks as goodbyes.

As your eyes connect, sitting next to each other after the dance, you find yourself craving for him. You want his hands all over you.

Is that wrong?

A sudden, new wave of embarrassment hits you as you enter the limousine after the ceremony. Seungcheol helps you get in before entering through the opposite door as you quickly collect your beautiful dress together and sit quietly, staring at your lap.

It's almost 9 o'clock and the traffic has faded away. Seungcheol is taking you to his penthouse, a place you've only heard him talk about, a place he said you'd enjoy living in.

You wonder how the next couple years would be. How will it be like to live with him? Will you sleep in the same bed every night? Will he even enjoy sharing his house with you? What if he hates having you around?

"Are you ignoring me?" Seungcheol's voice pulls you back to reality.

You try not to appear shy and flustered, "Huh? No, no I'm not."

"You've been awfully quiet since you've walked down the isle."

"Just... thinking." You reply meekly. Damn it, why do you feel so shy?

There's a silence as Seungcheol looks out the window, hands under his chin. You take the moment to appreciate his profile, ogling him unashamedly. You really, truly, want to be in his arms. And you should probably get your head checked.

"Do you regret doing this?" He asks suddenly.

"No! No, I do not," you protest to which he nods, understanding.

After a beat if silence his hand gently cups yours. You stop breathing. "I'll try to make your living as comfortable as possible. Don't hesitate to let me know if you have any problem." His expression is serious and you nod, throat dry. He smile is soft, showing just a bit of his dimples as he holds onto your hand, not letting go. You try to calm your breathing which proves to be an impossible task whenever you look at your joined hands.

After almost an hour drive, the limousine stops and your breath is sucked out as you get out of it. In front of you stands a huge building with the fanciest design and you can't wait to see what's inside. Seungcheol helps you with your dress and casually holds your hand as you both walk into the elevator. It heads for the seventeenth floor and during that whole period of time Seungcheol doesn't let go of your hand. When the elevator stops and you both step out into a large lobby, leading to his penthouse. Seungcheol swipes the card to open the door and it's only after you step into the apartment that he lets your hand go.

You probably look like a deer in headlights as you gawk at the beautiful home, equipped to unbelievably expensive appliances and delicate designing. With high ceilings and full length windows and beautiful pieces of furniture and marble fittings it's too pretty to touch.

All the while Seungcheol's eyes are on you, amused at your reaction. "You like it?" He grins.

"I...wow," you're speechless. "This is...huge." You say dumbly. Seungcheol laughs heartily before once again taking your hand, "Let me give you a quick tour."

And so he does, showing you around the house, the huge kitchen connected to the living room, the library, the study room the guest bedrooms and finally stopping before the master bedroom.

A king sized bed lies by the huge windows. There's a closet with an amount of space you could only dream of. The master bathroom is almost the size of your studio apartment and a wave of embarrassment hits you. Will you ever get used to this? You only feel more embarrassed when you remember that this isn't yours forever.

Shit, ___. Get a grip.

You plop down on the large fluffy bed and pry off your heels from your aching feet. You watch as Seungcheol stands in front of the dresser, slowing undoing his bow tie.

There's a small moment where you both lock eyes before you cough loudly, trying to ignore the butterflies in your stomach. Instead you quietly take off your earnings and reach for the buttons behind your dress- except, your hands can't reach them.

Seungcheol sees you struggling, "Let me do it for you." You almost let out a squeak, feeling shy and excited. You stand up as he appears behind you and starts to unbutton your dress, slowly.

It feels like eternity as you stand, holding your breath, blood pumping loudly in your veins.

Seungcheol's deep voice sends shivers down your spine, "There, done." He says that but doesn't move from behind you, his hands resting on your shoulders as the cool air hits you back. You, too, seems to be stuck on your place as you can't move a muscle. Your conscience slaps her head, what the hell is wrong with you?

"Did I tell you how beautiful you look?" Seungcheol's mouth is extremely close to your ear and you can't help but squeak, warmth spreading through your body like wildfire.

"You look lovely, so beautiful," His voice is deep as he strokes the column of your neck before turning you to face him.

Your eyes are wide like saucers and your face is on fire, literally. Just being this close to him, with none around, makes your brain stop functioning.

He leans in and captures your lips in a kiss, without any warning whatsoever. Your tongues collide and you let him take the lead, his hand grabbing your ass, unashamedly.

"Tell me if you want me stop, I don't want to make you uncomfortable."

"No!" You grab onto his broad shoulders and pull him towards you again, meeting your lips once more. Of course you want him. You've wanted him since God knows how long.

While peppering your face with kisses, he pushes down your gown for you to step out of it. The cold air makes you shiver as you're left in a lacy white underwear with garter belts. Seungcheol's eyes move over your, taking in your figure. He swallows before pushing you down onto the bed and climbing over you, hurriedly taking off his suit jacket and shirt.

His eyes are locked on yours and your heart is beating a mile a minute. He looks like some god, his black locks messy and his chiseled face staring down at you, his strong body on top of you. You can't stop yourself from ogling his torso when his shirt comes off, leaving his toned muscles and biceps for you to see. Before you know it, you're reaching out to touch him. Your fingers dance over his chest and abdomen before your eyes meet and Seungcheol groans, cupping your face for another kiss.

He's quick to strip you off your bra while literring your neck and chest with kisses and bites. After fully undressing you and taking yet another unembarrassed look at your body Seungcheol asks, "Are you sure?"

You whine, needy and impatient, "Yes, please, Seungcheol. Fuck me." You're surprised at your own eagerness but it only turns Seungcheol on, a devilish smirk on his lips.

"My pleasure sweetheart." He whispers before going down between your legs.

Soft morning light hits your face, waking you up in the process. It takes a while for you to assess everything and you feel your body, especially lower half, ache deliciously- an aftermath of the numerous orgasms Seungcheol gave you yesterday night.

A strong arm is wrapped around your waist from behind, making you feel warm and safe. You sigh, playing with the wedding ring on your finger.

You're married now. To Choi Seungcheol. Shit.

Instead of letting your mind start overthinking, you gently turn around to face your husband, careful not to wake him up.

He lies there, fast asleep, his beautiful features relaxed, the morning light giving him an angelic glow. Before you can stop yourself, you're reaching out to stroke his face, your gentle fingers tracing his skin. He's so soft, so beautiful. Your heart constricts, thinking about how much you want to spend the rest of your life in his arms.

You'd be more than happy to be by his side, sharing a home with him, helping him whenever he's in need, making a family-

A sudden realisation that you tried to bury all this time dawns on you, bringing tears to your eyes.

You're in love with Choi Seungcheol.

Taglist: @chimikima @all-i-needislovee @peekabooseoksoon @masterpiecejoonie @sorrywonwoo @sweetiescoops @diamondsvts @insidesvt @bononswife @ayla-hathway @kpopssuregi @justasoftstan @top-crop @wainrain @jisungsdreamy @moon-asia @rocketink @hobis-hopeworld @coppertrashi @honeyyjihoon @seoulnights5 @rjsmochii @1-800-fandomsdestroyedme @mimaisiomai @gyubagebin @chrryhwa @junsfei

A/N 2: Please know that reblogs hold a special meaning to writers, so if you enjoyed it please reblog. And if can spare a few seconds, kindly reblog with comments. The feedback I get from everyone encourages me to write, so please do that 💖.

Also, Choi Seungcheol please come wife me up.

326 notes · View notes

theautumnisnoble · 3 years

Text

we'll learn to swim in the oceans you made

After listening to Shirtsleeves by Ed Sheeran this scenario immediately came into mind, also heavily inspired by Jenn Im's pregnancy youtube video titled, "We're Pregnant!"

[Also a very big thank you to A (@solhwippedsubs on twt and holdoutandwin on ao3) for beta-reading this. I love you my solhwi fluff confidant!]

Word Count: 2k words

"Wake up!" Sol removes the comforter that was covering his husband's body and started shaking him. "Han Joon Hwi, ireona!"

"Mmm, Sol-ah. Why?" Joon Hwi covered his eyes with his arm to shield them from the rays of sunlight and wondered why the love of his life was forcing him out of their bed so early in the morning.

"Ireona! Jebal.." Joon Hwi immediately shot up as Sol's voice started to crack and he examined her face. Sol teared up and Joon Hwi noticed she was holding something tightly, stick close to snapping into half.

"Babe, what's wrong? Are you okay?" Joon Hwi held both of her arms and looked up at her.

Sol had been so emotional these days, well, more than she usually is. Sol always has been a passionate ball of fury, but Joon Hwi especially had it rough this week. He doesn't find Sol annoying or tiring for any of that matter, but he would wonder why Sol would suddenly cry or get mad at him for absolutely no reason, and if there was, then he avoided asking it as when he did that one time, Sol only got more mad at him. There was also yesterday when Joon Hwi sprayed on himself the perfume that Sol gifted to him on their wedding anniversary last April and Sol suddenly pinched her nose close and walked outside of their bedroom. And now, Sol was in tears, sobbing, at 7 am in the morning.

"Babe.. I'm starting to worry. What's wrong?"

"I told you to be careful!!!" Sol lightly punched his shoulder and bawled.

Joon Hwi raised his arm and wiped her tears using the sleeves of his sweater, pulling on the cloth with his fingers. "What did I do wrong? Calm down for a sec and tell me.."

"Don't tell me to calm down!"

"O-okay." Joon Hwi surrendered for a while and let Sol release all of her emotions. Moments later, her sobs started to simmer down and Joon Hwi opened his arms wide. "C'mere."

Sol bended down and let Joon Hwi's arms circle around her. Her lower body slowly went closer to him and then she sat on his lap, her shoulder against his chest. Joon Hwi wiped down the dampness on her face and caressed her arm. "Now, babe, talk to me, okay? I'm never gonna know what I did wrong if you won't tell me."

Sol faced him and tried to form intelligent words. "Well, you—"

"Hmm?"

"I'm—" Her mouth started to form into a pout and tears started fall again from her eyes. "Joon Hwi-ah." She released sobs again and buried her face into his neck. Joon Hwi sighed and patted her arm.

"Babe—"

"I'm pregnant."

Joon Hwi paused his movements and pulled his head back away, lightly pushing Sol by her shoulders, to let Sol face him. Sol's eyes wandered down to her left hand and Joon Hwi followed them, then he grabbed the stick from her hand.

It was a pregnancy test. Two red-dyed lines. Positive.

Joon Hwi faced Sol, his lips starting to form into a smile. "Babe—"

"I told you to be careful!!" Sol again whimpered, tears still falling.

"W-what? Is it because I—"

"Nevermind!" Sol wiped her tears in a rash way and breathed out to calm herself down. "I-it's actually not your fault." Sol now realized the irrationality of her internal reasoning.

Joon Hwi held back a chuckle and tucked a hair behind his wife's ear.

"Remember April?"

"When we shared a sloppy kiss under the rain?" Joon Hwi tried to lighten the mood by reminding her how they had to walk all the way to the bus stop under the heavy pouring rain, just right after they had their wedding anniversary date at a fine dining restaurant four months ago. It was a funny, but sweet memory.

"No! Before that, when I got diagnosed with PCOS."

"Aah."

It left Sol and Joon Hwi almost hopeless for a child when she was diagnosed with Polycystic Ovary Syndrome. But Sol, even before that, was convinced she didn't need to have kids and that she was satisfied with her life with Joon Hwi, content that they'd be that couple with no children. They were already busy with their very time-demanding jobs and Sol— she convinced herself she wouldn't be competent with the whole mothering a child thing. But after knowing her condition, the question, "should I?" turned to "could I?". The condition that would possibly rob her of the choice eventually made her think about how it wouldn't be so bad, because Joon Hwi was there. So after the news of her condition, she decided on one thing.

"A-after that I got off birth control." Joon Hwi nodded and listened to Sol, who was still tearing up a bit, and he also wiped down those tears when he could.

"Then yesterday, when I realized I wasn't on my period yet, I got to read my period calculator and saw that I- I was 16 days late." Sol exhaled for courage.

"Then I bought the pregnancy test." Sol paused and looked at Joon Hwi, and her face looked like she was about to burst again. Her lips were shaking and her eyes were still crystal with tears ready to fall. She was scared.

"You can take it slow, I'll be here. I won't stop listening." Sol released a small smile, tidied her face and tucked in her stray hairs, preparing to tell Joon Hwi more while also now trying to relax herself.

"I didn't know if I should take it though. I mean, everything would change if I was pregnant. But I did wanna know, I wanted to be certain. And it said that I should use my morning pee for it so I waited until morning."

"But you hardly even slept.." Joon Hwi recalls her wife tossing and turning beside him, and then ultimately giving up trying to sleep then went downstairs. He bets on Sol reading up on her cases, which works as an alternative sleeping pill for her.

Ever since she was diagnosed with PCOS, Sol really took effort into having a more healthy lifestyle— like exchanging coffee for matcha, this among other things, and also trying to get some more sleep. So Joon Hwi knew that Sol would definitely try to catch up on sleep.

"I did, a bit." She smiled. "So, after that I took it just earlier. A-and I tested positive." Sol's emotions now returned to her and she closed her eyes, her eyebrows furrowed and tears started to fall again.

"I'm scared." She looked at him. "I don't know if I'm gonna be a good mother. I feel like I should be happy or something, but I'm just really scared." Sol now covered her face with both palms and cried, Joon Hwi pulled her in to embrace her.

"Babe.." He patted her back.

"What if I try my best, and our kid still doesn't love me?" That was it. Sol released another wave of sobs and her body shook against Joon Hwi's embrace.

Sol thought she wasn't ready. Even if it was her choice to get off birth control, she didn't think she would immediately become pregnant. After all, her doctor said it was now almost impossible to be. In her mind, pregnancy would change everything— from how much devotion she has to her work to maybe how her and Joon Hwi's relationship would change, and maybe for the worst. And she didn't like change, her idealistic plans for her future would need to be altered, and she also didn't like how it would most likely change their marriage. She couldn't have that, she couldn't live with a ruined marriage because she didn't want anything to change between Joon Hwi and her, and she also couldn't live with her child possibly having to live through all that. And what if he gets tired of taking care of me? And tons of other doubts and insecurities showered her.

Why does my mind do this? Sol asked herself. Why can't I just be excited? Joon Hwi is the father of this child. I'm sure he's disappointed in me right now.

Joon Hwi pulled away after she calmed down. He wiped her face, again with his already damp shirtsleeves. He placed short kisses on her wet cheeks and cupped her face. "Sol, I believe in you."

Sol melted and her lips turned into a pout, her face still showing fear and uncertainty.

"I'm with you, whatever your decision is. I will be always there for you as I always have. If you arrive to whichever decision, I will give you my opinion but at the end I will always support you. If you don't want to have the baby, I'll still be here. If you want to try and see it through the end, I will be happy and help you every step of the way. I'm your husband Sol-ah. I know you don't trust yourself that much yet, but trust in me. "

Sol put her arms around him and hugged him tight. "I love you Sol. We'll take it slow, step by step. I know you're panicking right now, but there's no rush. We'll do it together. You're never gonna be alone. I'll be there every single step of the way. And I'm sure our kid will love you. You were an amazing older sister to Byeol and you still are, she adores you so I'm sure our kid will, too."

"I love you Joon Hwi. I love you so much. I love you."

"You love me that much?"

Sol pulled away, annoyed. Joon Hwi released a chuckle.

"I love you too."

"You sure I can do it?" Sol asked. "Being a mom? What if I'm going to be too busy for it?"

"We can always ask Byeol to babysit. Or your mom, she has said she already wants a grandchild."

"You always know the solution to things don't you?" Sol rolled her eyes.

"That's why I'm the perfect husband to the ever worrier Eomma Sol."

"Eomma Sol?" Sol raised her voice, taken aback by the sudden nickname.

"And I'm Appa Joon Hwi. " Then Sol bursted out, laughing. Her tears were now drying on her cheeks and she was more relaxed now.

"See? It's cute." I just wanted to see you smile. Joon Hwi thought.

Sol pulled him into a hug again. "You better not regret being a father to our child, Han Joon Hwi-ssi."

Joon Hwi let himself fall into bed, taking down Sol with her. They both laughed and Joon Hwi pulled her into a kiss, tasting the bitterness and sadness of her tears. They made out, feeling at home and Sol, feeling assured and loved by the person in front of her. Joon Hwi kissed her, tasting the ocean, drowning in the one she made.

"I will never regret it. I will fulfill all the promises I made on our wedding day, to be by your side, To support you, to be a loving husband, to be always there to annoy you—" Sol laughed, remembering his one-liner during their exchange of wedding vows. "To always wake and sleep beside you whenever I can, and to never leave your side." They both smiled at each other and Joon Hwi placed a kiss on her forehead. They pull each other close, feeling each other's warmth. And Sol is now close to slumber, fatigued after her nonstop crying.

"I'll be the happiest father to our child. Of course I will, you're the mother, after all."

#law school bingo #law school bingo: kissing in the rain #law school bingo: insecurity #law school bingo: wedding vows #law school bingo: anniversary #law school bingo: pregnancy #law school bingo: nicknames #law school fic fest #law school month #law school bingo: i just wanted to see you smile #Law School Bingo: Verdict

20 notes · View notes

hearteyes-for-killmonger · 3 years

Text

The Spirit of Christmas

Did someone order a Christmas fic? Oneshot. Erik is being hassled by his annoying neighbor.

Erik's eyes drooped as he looked down on the overgrown child standing before him, short, bundled up, and grinning in a hideous bulky sweater that Christmas threw up. Gold bells dangled from her sleeves. There were multicolored puff balls. His four-year-old play niece couldn't even make anything that ugly. Wasn't she embarrassed? No, she'd have to be somewhat aware for that to kick in.

From the moment she knocked on his door back in April with that same unsettling grin and an offering of rabbit-shaped cookies to let him know she was his new neighbor, he knew there was something wrong with her mentally, he just didn't know what. Needless to say the cookies went in the trash and from then, he'd made it a point to avoid her. He'd tried! On God he had, but as hard as he tried was as strong as she would not let that happen.

What went through that happy little empty head of hers? Did it sound like air blowing through or were there little dancing elves singing all day like Smurfs? As she beamed up at him, he didn't like the hope in her eyes. She was gonna ask for something and it was never anything simple like sugar or flour.

"Merry Christmas neighbor!" Her large dimples sank in. She looked sneaky.

He threw the door shut, but stopped when he heard a loud squeak. Her hand was in the crack blocking the door from closing in her face. That had to have hurt. Opening the door, he started to ask if she was okay but she spoke first, rubbing her hand with a slight wince.

"I've been watching you."

His eyebrows went down knitting together.

"I've seen a lot.. Things you don't think I've seen," she bragged with a smug cross of her jingling arms. Erik stiffened thinking of the bands of cash sitting out on his coffee table.. drugs in a duffel on the floor. His eyes narrowed.

"Oh?" His eyes flickered to the neighboring apartment doors as he wondered who else was watching. "What you see?"

She pushed her index into his chest. "You haven't had visitors since I moved in! No friends.. no family!"

Erik exhaled his relief. "I'm not a people-person."

"If you're a people, you're a person. That makes you a people person," she chirped. Again she made no sense. Erik took a long blink closing the door more carefully this time. "Wait," her hand jetted out again. It was the other hand now blocking the door from shutting.

"What do you want, Jessica," Erik waved impatiently leaning with his elbow on the door frame.. partially to support his resting weight and partially to keep her out. She liked to be nosey looking into his apartment past his body, craning her neck to get into his business.

"I'm doing Christmas in Pittsburgh with the fam, come with me."

He almost spit.

"No."

She blocked the door again and he rolled his eyes putting his head briefly on the door.

"Jessica, I'm tryna be nice 'cause I don't know quite what's wrong with you... but you pushing it."

"It's Christmas spirit! Oh Erik, can't you feel it? It's all around us! 🎵 Christmas is the time of year for being with the one's we love. Sharing so much joy and cheer," she sang. "What a wonderful fe'-"

"PLEASE..."

She froze.

"Don't sing..," he whispered. "Look I have plans. Thanks for the invite but I can't make it."

"Hm." Her finger pointed hard and accusingly. "Erik Stevens you're lying to me! You spend every holiday here in this apartment. I know!" Looking around first, she leaned forward. "I check..."

"With who?"

"This won't do! You gotta get into the festivities, it's Christmas, the most wonderful time of the year!"

"Busy."

"But-"

That was all she got out before the door closed in her face. Erik didn't like holidays. To him, they were regular days but worse because everyone seemed so damn happy as if reality had somehow slipped away. He couldn't just forget real life so easily, he wasn't built that way. Finishing his count, he stored his cash and started on dinner.

"A man fires a rifle for many years and he goes to war. He comes home and he sees that whatever else he may do with his life like build a house, love a woman, change his son's diaper but he will always remain a jarhead," Swoff said onscreen as Erik shoveled a forkful of cheesy pasta into his mouth. This was reality. War, death, power struggle, and debauchery.

A series of knocks on his door had Erik rolling his eyes again. He ignored it until he realized she wasn't leaving then he paused the movie.

"What," he yelled swinging his door open to that same annoying grin.

"Erik, don't close the door! Please, come with me it'll be so much fun. It's twenty minutes away!"

"NO."

"You'll get a present!"

"Nuh-what kinda present? Not one of those ugly ass sweaters I hope."

"Oh this," she chuckled pulling on a bell. "My mom sewed it.. One night and I won't bother you ever again... until New Year's."

"Bye," the door closed.

"Okay okay!" She blocked it. "You won't hear a peep from me until Memorial Day, thank you for your service!"

"My what?"

"I accidentally got your mail one day, you had a VA appointment."

Erik could feel the intense irritation palpable and radiating on his skin.

"I swear, you won't see or hear me just one night of fun," she beamed, blinking quickly with praying hands. Erik sighed looking back at his leftovers to put away.

"Do you promise?... You won't look at me, talk to me, bother me if I go with you this one night?"

---

The ride took twenty-five minutes, five minutes longer than she'd said and she'd sang the entire ride. He was Christmas'd out already. Then he saw the house surrounded in snow.

It was a humble cream colored house with white around the windows and a red door decorated with a wreath. Multicolored lights lined the roof and an inflatable snowman stood guarding the bushes out front. Jessica giddily bounced behind the wheel turning off the car including the heat and Erik was forced to follow her into the residence. The door wasn't locked. They were greeted with heat, strings of Christmas lights, a tall tree decked in pricey looking ornaments, and the sound of old music. Erik knew the song by Bing Crosby.. but he didn't like it.

"Mommy! Daddy! I'm home!"

"My baaby," a woman's voice came, chased by an older woman with neatly arranged grey twists pinned by a mistletoe hair clip. She was definitely a Claire Huxtable type in a white silk blouse, red lipstick, pearls, a red skirt, and low heels. Why wasn't she as tacky as her daughter? Hadn't she made that hideous sweater? She hung onto Jessica, smiling and swaying her back and forth in her arms as if she hadn't seen her in a while.. and then she noticed Erik and straightened. "Ooh. Where are my manners," she smiled looking between him and her daughter as if she were missing something she'd ask Jessica about later in private. Erik felt only mildly uncomfortable. "I'm Ernestine... you are?"

"Mom, this is my neighbor, Erik. I told you he was cute! Ain't he HOT!"

Ernestine's brow raised at her daughter and Erik wondered if something really was wrong with Jessica.

"He has dimples like me! He-"

"Okay dear, that's nice. Erik could I speak to you for a moment?" Ernestine smiled gently but he could read it. She had something serious to say. Following her into the kitchen where casserole dishes and pots and pans of food sat, he could smell cooking like he hadn't smelled in a couple of months. She cooked like his late grandmother and it made him salivate. Greens, shrimp, chicken, ham, mac and cheese, yams, potato salad. He could almost taste it.

"Sorry I'm not really dressed," he offered with Ernestine waving him off.

"Not at all.. Erik..," she paused choosing her words carefully. "What.. exactly.. do you.. know.. about my daughter?"

Erik felt her meaning between the words. "Not much," he admitted. "We're just neighbors. Is she..." He didn't know how to ask it.

"She's eccentric" was the answer. "A little.. different than most."

Erik swallowed his response.

"I know," Ernestine nodded seemingly reading his mind. She must've been used to it. "But I look at it this way.. It's rare that such a beautiful spirit is born into this world, since she was a baby that's never changed. She's our angel.. Please, I know it's not your responsibility but.. look out for her. Will you?"

"Sugarplum," a booming voice yelled from the living room taking the attention. When Erik looked back to Ernestine she smiled and he followed her from the kitchen to see a heavyset older black man shaking Jessica in his arms as she grinned.

"Me next," a younger guy said. From the context, Erik could see it was father and brother. Donald and Joshua who was probably in his early twenties. They both nodded to him as he smiled politely, hands clasped in front of himself. "What you been up to sis? Staying outta trouble I hope."

She shared a few tales from her job. He didn't know she was a dentist, it shocked him completely. Was she really smart enough? Apparently so.

"And I told Mr. MacDougall the SNUGGLE is real," she snickered tickled rosy by her own joke to her patient. She laughed from her nose, forever on the verge of snorting while her family looked at her like she was the baby Jesus. They really did adore her. "But wait! There's MYRRH!!!" Tears leaked from her eyes from laughing and Erik found himself smiling to blend in.

"Oh phooey, Erik, don't be a phoney," Jessica wiped her eye, still shuddering in her laughter. She threw a white pillow from the leather couch at him and he caught it feeling suddenly awkward. "You never laugh at my puns! That's what makes it's so funny," she gasped in stitches. "Mr. MacDougall didn't laugh either. He just stared like he was so confuuused," she wheezed, her nostrils flaring like headlights. It broke her brother who snorted. "I swear I love your faces!"

"Hey hey!" A voice came from the front door as a woman with a brown fur vest scooted inside to the living room with matching brown boots followed by a small group of happy people carrying gifts. They kissed the rest of the family, laughing and talking about everything from rowdy kids to the snow. They seemed like a normal family, everyone but Jessica. She jumped up quickly to take the gifts adding them under the bigass fir tree and Erik wondered what type of gifts they gave and how he'd get one.

Jessica hugged every single person in that group as well as the next. The house was full and loud with laughter, stories, and the sound of kids running back and forth.

"SIT YA ASS DOWN," he heard an auntie growl at a kid only a little older than his play niece. The kid looked at her, sitting immediately.. reminding him of his childhood with his family. "Excuse me," the woman waved apologetically when she made eye contact, but it made Erik feel comfortable. He smiled.

When the family played charades, he sat quietly and hoped they wouldn't call him up and he was lucky because they were too busy competing for a turn, each person imitating a family member and getting roars of laughter followed by an "I am not like that" or an "AND?!" The reactions tickled Erik more than anything. He tried to watch each family member from then to see if the impressions were accurate and he laughed to himself on the ones he could personally confirm.

"Hey Erik," one of the men called from around the kitchen table. The seats were full all around with additional folding chairs pulled up. "Prettyboy like you know how to play spades?"

Erik's brows rose and he blew out a breath. "Old man.. you sure you in the mood to lose?" The man's face dropped and instantly Erik felt his foot in his mouth. He'd gone too far.

"..I think you got a challenge, Lem," the man beside him on his right smirked, coughing to hide his laugh. Lem cut the cards after the man to his left shuffled.

"I'll ask you the same question when you're digging this old foot out ya ass," Lem chuckled and another man stood to let Erik sit. Erik played four successful games before Jessica appeared over his shoulder whispering loudly in his ear. He controlled his shudder feeling the air on his face.

"Christmas scavenger hunt," she said pulling him from the chair. "My neighbor," she explained to the table, hugging him proudly. "Okay, let's go!"

The outdoor scavenger hunt happened in the backyard in the dark. Erik didn't understand why his wrist had to be tied to Jessica's. It wasn't like any scavenger hunt he'd done, not that he'd done one since he was eight and that was for Easter.

"Follow me," Jessica pulled as if he had a choice. She fell almost instantly. "Owww, I bongo'd my booty," she pouted seriously, rubbing her butt.

"..Now I gotta get outta here," he muttered.

"Huh?"

"I said did you see that reindeer."

"What reindeer?" She looked puzzled but forgot it fast.

She pawed through trees and got down on her knees in the snowy grass to feel around which was more than anyone else was doing. They were mostly talking and enjoying the view of the bright sky. It was a beautiful night. The more Jessica searched through the snow, Erik began to think of her hands. She wasn't wearing gloves. Her hands had to be freezing. He looked around at the guests standing around casually.

"Jessica.. I don't think you'll find anything under the snow let's look somewhere else."

"I'm like a bloodhound for this, I can smell it!" She continued to shift snow, digging on her knees shifting around the ground and Erik's mind went to Ms. Ernestine.

"Jessica.. stand up," he whispered through his teeth tugging her up with a quick yank of his wrist. "It's too cold for you to be digging through snow with your bare h-" There was a plastic ornament in her palm, a proud grin on her face.

"I knew it," she leaned in with a conspiratorial smile. "Joshua planted it and he's not that creative," she whispered giddily. "He must have done it before the snow... WE FOUND IT! WE FOUND THE SPIRIT OF CHRISTMAS! WE WIN! YES!! TAKE THAT LOOOOSERRS!!"

As the round of applause and some disappointed groans followed, Erik felt awkward standing with her as she gloated in her ridiculous victory dance but he couldn't negate that... she was right. Once untied, he stood next to her as she turned in the ornament to Ms. Ernestine exchanging it for two small red gift boxes. Handing Erik one, she beamed at him and the small crowd.

"Same time."

He nodded and at the same time they opened the boxes.

"Socks!!! Oh my God I love fuzzy socks," she spazzed bending backward to cheer at the sky. When Erik looked in his box, he looked up at the crowd and Ms. Ernestine. Was it really cool to accept this? Should he give it to Jessica? "What did you get," Jessica asked. He showed her. "Eh.. it's nice but I like mine better," she winked. It was a $100 bill. She could've had tons of socks. He sat down their boxes and felt her hands, they were still cold.

"Let's go inside and warm up," he nodded toward the house glad when Ms. Ernestine agreed, announcing that it was definitely time to eat. She said the prayer as people held hands and Erik couldn't remember the last time anyone around him had held hands to pray. "Let me get that for you. You want a lil everything?" He stepped in to fix an older lady's plate so she wouldn't lose her seat or wait in line. That led to him fixing three different plates for people but Jessica was right there with him, smiling the whole time. "Have a seat," he told her, doubling down when she politely declined. "You've done enough, enjoy your family."

Confused, she did what he suggested and he brought her food and drink to her in the living room before finding a nearby seat. She was just as quirky as ever, saying things that made no sense, but Erik was too into the food to care. He ate three plates and drank two eggnogs.

Right when he thought he'd go into a food coma, he heard his name.

"Erik," a gruff voice called from the dining room. It was her dad waving him over where most of the men were. "Hey, do me a favor and go upstairs to the room on the right and grab that jar from the top shelf of my closet.

Erik looked around briefly with slightly widened eyes for Joshua but didn't see him.

"You want me to..," he questioned.

"Yeah, son, go get it and bring it here. Thanks."

Son, Erik thought as he went up the stairs. The man barely knew him yet called him son. This family was something else and it wasn't something he was used to.

In the closet was a glass mason jar full of pocket change and dollars of varying values. There were 50s in there. The fact that he was trusted to retrieve it spoke volumes. He carried it down the stairs carefully fulfilling his mission to get it back to Mr. Donald who thanked him asking no questions.

"And the jar this Christmas... goes to.. drumroll," he commanded getting a loud drum of hands on laps, tables, and walls. "DREW!"

"YES," a teenage boy shouted hurriedly finding his way forward to pose beside Mr. Donald with the jar. His grin full of braces was as big as Jessica's in that moment and when Erik glanced at Jessica, she waved. He nodded back with a small smile. She was beginning to grow on him... just a little.

When the house erupted in carols, he didn't feel pressured to sing. He sat and listened, smiling at the little kids who sang the loudest with the drunk uncle leading in an offbeat baritone. It was a warm feeling he'd forgotten.

And then they exchanged gifts with some people opening there's on the spot and some people taking theirs to go along with several plates of food.

"Erik," Jessica smiled bouncing happily in front of him like she had the best news. She put a red and green gift box in his hands. The dog design was tacky, but he could look past that now. "Open it now," she rushed and when he did, he was taken aback.. again. "I made this on the off chance that you'd say yes and come home for the holidays with me."

His fingers rolled over his face pasted on top of a photoshopped body added to her family's group photo and it was the most bizarre and lowkey creepy gift he'd ever gotten.. but in that way, it was also perfect which hit different. He didn't know what to say. He couldn't stop looking at it.

"Ew... Don't get all soft on me now Stevens," she blurted rolling her eyes with genuine disgust. What kind of response did she expect? He laughed thinking about it.

"Come here," he grabbed her into a hug she fought to get out of.

"Ew ew ew, feelings!"

It only made him laugh and hold tighter.

---

The ride back to the apartment was more chill. Quiet except for the old music that Jessica sang along to, this time under her breath. When they reached the building, there was a relaxed peace as they went up in the elevator together.

"I owe you a Christmas present," Erik said at the door glancing over as Jessica opened the door to her apartment.

"You do, I gave you a good one."

He blew a small laugh through his nostrils. "Yes. Yes, you did. Have a good night, okay?"

"Sleep in heavenly peace," she smiled leaning her head on her door. He nodded and entered his apartment, picking up in the living room before getting ready for bed. There was another series of knocks on the door.

"What's up," he asked opening it to a squinting Jessica. She looked a little constipated or confused. "You good? What you need?"

"Uh. I know I promised, but do I still have to stay away from you until Memorial Day? I kinda had a lotta fun tonight. It looked like you did too."

Erik shook his head, too tired to laugh at the nonsense. One thing for sure, he'd never be bored.

"You can talk to me," he nodded dramatically before yawning. "We family ain't we?"

"Good because for New Year's we gotta go turn up at my granny's cat hotel! Eee!!" She clapped squealing in excitement. "You'll love her, she's just like me but she's just a little weird," she whispered.

Erik's brows knit together as he broke down that statement. That was something to think about when the time came, he was too tired.

"Good night, Jessica," he sang closing the door gently. She stopped it.

"One more thing!"

"Girl do you ever get tired!"

"Merry Christmas, brother from another mother," she grinned. He shook his head with a sigh.

"..See you on New Year's."

@nahimjustfeelingit-writes @goddessofthundathighs @thadelightfulone @mszrenee @woahitslucyylu @badgalbrix1 @supersizemeplz @idont-know-shit @vikkidc @ladymac82 @xsweetdellzx @msreshel

#original #erik killmonger #killmonger #erik stevens #erik killmonger fanfiction #erik stevens au #christmas fic

121 notes · View notes

cherrychonk · 3 years

Text

The Transfer Part 9

*This bih is 4k+ long so to read it fully just follow them link*

“What if they don't like me? What if they think I'm annoying? What if-”

“Enough!” Lin raised her voice exasperated.

You had been pacing for the last ten minutes waiting for the ferry. You were rethinking the piercings and the short sleeve blouse. You kept your hands on your arms in an attempt to cover up. You felt too vulnerable for your liking and the anxiety started getting to you.

“Everything is going to be fine Y/N. Stop overthinking it. They are all very accepting of everyone’s differences. You won't be the reason they stop thinking this way.” She offered her knowledge. “The ferry is almost here, come down. Everything will be okay.”

You nodded, you were still nervous but not as much. The ferry arrived and both of you got on and some people started to stare at you. Lin would stare at them back until they got uncomfortable and minded their own business. You placed your hand on your lower back, the stress was making your stitches hurt, Lin saw this and placed her hand above yours.

“Is it hurting?” She asked softly.

“It happens when I get stressed, but if I apply a bit of pressure it helps.” You answer, you take your arm off but she keeps it on. You tried not to think of it too much but the warm blush was already spreading to your ears.

Soon the ferry arrives at the temple's docks and you both get out. You can see the long road ahead and sigh. You start walking alongside the earthbender until you reach a long line of stairs. You took the first step holding tightly onto Lin, a few more steps and you had to take a moment to breathe.

The chief looked at you and used her bending to make a platform under both of you. “Hold on.” She said as the platform started moving upwards. After a few minutes both of you were finally in the courtyard of the temple. A young girl with long hair and two buns made her way to you. She smiled and started asking questions rapidly.

“Are you Y/N? How old are you? Are you a firebender? Do you like animals? Can I see your tattoos? How many tattoos do you have? How many piercings do you have?”

You stood there a moment collecting the information before smiling back at her.

“Yes, 25, yes, also yes, sure, like 15? A few.”

She scanned you up and down and grabbed your arms. She started looking at them and flipping them to see the full picture.

“You're so cool and pretty!” The girl charmed as she stared.

“Ikki, leave her alone, she's tired.” Lin growled.

The girl seemed unfazed at Lin’s antics.

You chuckled “It's alright Chief. So you're Ikki? Nice to meet you, I like your buns.”

“It's my signature hairstyle.” She smirked as she touched her hair. “Come on, dinner's ready.”

You followed the girl inside where a tall man with blue arrow tattoos and a tan woman with short hair greeted you. Your eyes widened when you realized who the people in front of you were.

You bowed deeply and immediately winced. “Master Tenzin, Avatar Korra. It's an honor to be blessed with your presence.” You said formally with a smile.

“It's an honor to meet you officer Y/N, we've heard so much.” Tenzin said softly.

“Yes! But due to your back injury we would prefer you not to bow. It could hurt you more.”

You blushed and nodded. “I'm just in such awe to meet such incredible people.”

“We are very happy to meet you too.” A new feminine voice said.

You look up to see the one and only Asami Sato.

“Miss Sato!” You automatically bowed again and winced.

Asami laughed. “Let's go take a seat, I think your back would appreciate it.”

The heiress took your hand and guided you to the table where Kya, Amara and Pema were sitting. You also saw Mako and another man with green eyes sitting next to him. Lin sat on one of your sides while Asami sat on the other. There were two more kids, another girl with arrow tattoos and a boy with short black hair.

“Y/N this is Bolin, my brother.” Mako said, introducing you.

You reached over and shook his hand. “A pleasure to meet you Bolin, Your brother has told me great things about you.”

“Aww bro really?” Bolin said with teary eyes.

Mako scoffed. “You've already met Korra, Amara, Kya and Asami, so she's Pema.” He said pointing to the woman near Tenzin. “She's Tenzin’s wife and mother to Ikki, Jinora and Meelo, the kids next to her.”

“I'm happy to meet all of you.” You said smiling. The pain started once more and you tried to reach behind you but the position was awkward.

Lin leaned into you. “You need help with that?”

You blushed but nodded, her hand went to your lower back applying steady preaching. You sighed in relief. “Thank you” You could see a blush as she nodded and couldn't help but grin.

“So, Y/N…” Korra started. “Let me start by saying that I LOVE your style.”

You smiled. “Thank you Avatar Korra.”

“Just Korra is fine.” She looked at Asami. “You look really cool, I mean when we saw the pictures in the newspaper it was blurry so we didn't get to see the details.”

“But your tattoos are amazing! It makes you look even more beautiful than you already are.” Asami finished.

You were blushing profusely. “Oh thank you honestly. They are just as much part of me as my hair.”

Kya knew the two women were enjoying flustering you. So she charged in to help you ease your nerves.

“How are you finding the city so far?” The waterbender asked.

“Oh! It's been really cool!” You smiled. “I haven't been able to see a lot since I'm working a lot but there's a cafe I'm falling in love with. It's close to the precinct and they sell the best strawberry and cream biscuits I've ever tasted.” You gush.

“Oh you like sweets? You have to try Kya’s fruit tart, it's the best thing ever.” Korra responded smiling.

“Yeah! Oh and you should go to a noodle place we know, they sell the best noodles!” Bolin said to you.

“I'll definitely try it out!”

You had been in the conversation so long that you didn't even notice Lin’s hand off your back. You looked at her discreetly but she was focused on a conversation with Kya.

“Are you single?” Meelo asked boldly.

“Yup.” You said looking back at him.

“Do you like boys or girls?” Ikki asked.

“Women.” You answer carefully.

Lin looked at you and took a sip of her tea. The gesture didn't go unnoticed.

“Me too!” Bolin said smiling.

“That's nice to know Y/N, we'll have to introduce you our clubs and places.” Kya sais smiling.

“So Y/N, tell us about yourself. What's your story?” Asami asked.

“My story?” You looked at her quizzically.

“Yeah, who is Y/N? What happened that made you end up here as a police officer?” Korra asked.

“Oh well I think that story is far too long and boring.” You chuckled.

“We are listening.” Pema said softly.

You suddenly felt every eye in the room looking at you, your nerves grew and you started feeling anxious again. You looked up at Lin and she gave you a nod.

“Okay well, I'll go chronologically? So it doesn't confuse anyone so much?”

“Sure!” Korra said happily.

You smiled. “Okay here we go. My name is Y/N L/N, I was born here in Republic City but I've lived in Ba Sing Se since I was a child. I'm a firebender like both my parents.

“When I was born my mother moved us to Ba Sing Se, when I was two my father left us. I have no memories of him and can't remember his face, I just know that his departure hurt my mother greatly. My mom was a strict woman, everything had to be perfect for her including me. She would spar with me from the moment I could bend, it was something we bonded over… or I thought we did.

“She wasn't very emotional, hugs and kisses we're definitely not her language. But that didn't mean I didn't love her greatly, she and my father will always hold a place in my heart. I grew to respect my element and be thankful for my life and the things I was given. I loved making friends and taking care of animals.

“When I was seven my mother left and I was all on my own. A farmer took me for a while until a real foster family could take me in. and honestly? It was the worst. I ended running away from them and later on ended running from every single foster family I ever got. I became an orphaned runaway.”

“So you're an orphan?” Mako asked.

“Yup!” You said like it was nothing.

“We are orphans too!” Bolin said.

“Me too.” Asami said more shyly.

“I mean it's not bad, I took care of things.” You responded, taking a sip of tea.

“How did you survive on the streets so young?” Lin asked.

“I joined a local pack of kids. We were all stealing and getting into trouble. I was very slick with my hands, could take your socks without taking off your boots.”

“Literally?” Bolin asked.

“Literally, you’d be surprised.” You laughed.

Lin looked at you sternly.

“Hey, I had to stay alive somehow. Besides, it caught up to me. I would always have trouble with the law and one day Chief Lei Ba got sick of my shenanigans and arrested me after stealing cabbages-”

“Cabbages?! From all the things to steal, why cabbages?!” Mako asked in disbelief.

“It wasn't for me! I found a goat gorilla in a cage! Poor thing looked awfully skinny and someone had to feed it!”

“Okay, okay what happened next?” Kya asked intrigued.

“Well he took me in, handcuffs and everything. It was like every other time. He took me in, arrested me, wrote about my crime, scolded me and sent me off. Only this time he didn't send me off. He took me to his office, sat me down and threw a few logs onto his fireplace.”

Lin wondered if this was the part where something bad happened that made you fear fire. She was on the edge listening to you.

“He looked at me-” You continued. “And took my file that was filled with my transgressions and threw it on the fire.”

“What?!” Amara asked, amazed.

You laughed. “Let me finish! He scolded me about what I did and after that we stayed quiet. He then told me he had found a family in the Fire Nation that would adopt me and give me a new life. They were soldiers themselves but had a few kids and agreed to take me in, per the chief’s request. I guess they were friends or something. Or, he would take care of me and take me off the streets, he was going to be strict and there would be a lot of rules but those were the only options I had.”

“And you chose to stay.” Lin responded.

“Yup, I chose to stay. It was hard at first but I made it out and thrived. He took me in as his own and gave me a new life. I became his shadow and did everything to try and make him proud. I graduated school early and as soon as I grabbed the diploma I was running down to the academy’s door enlisting myself. He almost had a stroke when he found out.”

“But, I was first in my class. Worked my a- buttoff every day. Did extra, worked more, fought more, study more and at the end it was all so worth it.”

Lin could see the shine in your eyes as you talked.

“I remember the day of my graduation. When the chief gave us all our badges, I was the last one in line. The runt of the litter. He shook my hand, placed my badge and looked me in the eyes and-”

You felt your eyes water. “He said… I'm so proud of you Y/N. So very proud.” You wiped a tear that fell from your eye. “I managed not to cry until after the ceremony but when we were walking back home we hugged and I cried for hours.”

“The first day everyone already knew me, I mean, I'm the chief’s daughter so it's not like I was a stranger. But finally, finally I felt like I had a family again. The rest is history.” You smiled.

Bolin was crying like a little kid while Lin looked at you with glossy eyes.

“Wow, that's… it reminds me of my own story.” Mako said smiling. “This job means a lot to me too.”

“It's more than a job, it's who I am. Helping people, being there for the ones in need, it's… it's my calling.”

“Wait wait! What about the tattoos!?” Ikki asked expectantly.

“Oh my tattoos?” You chuckled. “I got drunk one night with the rest of the officers and we got our badge numbers tattooed. I woke up with the ink in my arm, it was just the numbers and it made it look like I was some sort of prisoner so I went back later on to add some flowers around it and that's how it started.”

You showed the old tattoo on your arm.

“What's your favorite tattoo??”

“This badgermole someone very special drew for me.” You said showing your bicep, it was a scribble drawing of a badgermole’s head.

“It looks so ugly! Badgermoles dont look like that!” Meelo said with no filter.

“Meelo!” Pema scolded.

“It looks like it's been drawn by a child.” Asami said looking at it.

“Yup, little Eliah. That kid will stay in my heart forever.”

“Ooh! What's the story?” Bolin asked, resting his head on his palms.

“He was a sick boy that wanted to be a police officer, so I convinced the Chief to make him an honorary officer. He agreed as long as I was the one taking responsibility for him. So I did, made him my little partner. We did traffic stops, tickets, arrests, chases.”

“You took a child to a chase?” Lin asked.

“I always took care of him!” You said quickly.

“He was the sweetest. I remember how happy he was being a police officer. But of course he got worse until he was on his deathbed. We would visit him every day and bring some reports to tell him how things were going that day. He asked for my favorite animal and I told him. He drew this-” You said pointing to your bicep. “And I got it tattooed. My artist even made a stencil so we could have matching tattoos. When I showed it to him he was ecstatic laughing and as vivacious as ever. It made me so happy.”

“He passed away two days later and we gave him an official police burial. With escort and everything. We laid him down with the rest of our fallen officers and we watched over his mother. He was the only family she had so it was hard for her but we stood by her. A year later she died of the same illness.”

“Wow…” Kya said with wide eyes. “That's a lot…”

“You must be proud that you allowed that child to have the life he wanted.” Tenzin spoke.

“He was our little brother.” You said, sighing.

“I'm going to get a lot of tattoos like yours!” Ikki said with a smirk. “It's going to be so cool and I'm going to look tough like you and aunt Lin!”

You smiled back at the young girl. “You can be just as tough as the Chief without tattoos. She doesn't have any and she can strike fear in anyone by just narrowing her eyes.”

The earthbender looked at you in a glare. You chuckled nervously. “See? Terrifying.”

Ikki crosses her arms. “But I want to have cool tattoos like you!”

You thought about it for a moment before smiling. “You sure you want tattoos like mine? What's wrong with the blue arrows? They are super cool!”

“No they aren't! They are so boring!”

“Hey!” Jinora said offended.

“Besides, I want many different ones instead of just one full tattoo.”

You nodded. “You know, when you reach adulthood, I know an artist that does amazing work and has been in the industry for decades.”

Ikki beamed. “Really?!”

“Absolutely-”

#the legend of korra #lin beifong #y/n #fanfic

18 notes · View notes

waywardfangirl · 3 years

Text

For the fantastic @fight-surrender: You are a wonderful person with a brilliant mind and a kind heart, and I am so happy to know you! I really enjoyed the prompts you suggested for the Secret Snowflake exchange this year, so to give you something fluffy and happy for your birthday I combined a few of them into one sweet and silly fic - I hope that you like it! 🖤

A big thank you goes out to @carryonvisinata for her wonderful beta work and for making this fic even better for such an incredible friend 🖤 Purr-fect Strangers

Rated: General Audiences Word Count: 3208 Chapters: 1/1 Simon

"Die Hard? Really?"

I'm struggling to make the Redbox give me my DVD. Video vending machines sounded like a good idea when I couldn't find anywhere to stream my favorite movie, but the obstinate thing in front of me and the condescending voice behind me are now making me reconsider my choices.

"What's wrong with Die Hard?" I demand, momentarily giving up on retrieving my video to take some of my frustration out on the prick watching me.

Unfortunately, when I turn around to scowl at him, I make eye contact with one of the most attractive people I've ever seen. He's tall, with dark hair escaping the bun on top of his head and falling around his face, and a perfectly tailored suit hugging every inch of his body right on down to his shiny Chelsea boots. My brain shorts out, and he sneers at me.

"There’s nothing wrong with it, per se. But you have a near unlimited assortment of cinema to choose from, and you've selected Die Hard?"

(Read the rest on ao3, or keep reading here)

I scoff.

"Look, mate, some of us don't feel the need to watch pretentious films just to feel better than other people. I like Die Hard. I'm going to watch it while eating pizza and relaxing in joggers, and I refuse to feel bad about enjoying that."

He looks a bit startled, and his cheeks take on a slightly pink tinge, but he just arches an eyebrow at me. (And manages to make that look unfairly hot too, the prat.)

"What movie are you renting?" I say it like a challenge, and he pushes past me.

He deftly removes my DVD from the stubborn machine and thrusts it at me, before turning back around to get his own. I loiter behind him, just like he did to me, ready to see what movie he thinks is better than Die Hard.

"Two Weeks Notice?" I exclaim, when I see the poster pop up on the screen. "You're ridiculing Die Hard, but getting a rom-com for yourself? Unbelievable."

He pushes past me and turns up his nose. My blood boils for so many different reasons, and it's work to hold myself still.

"This has Hugh Grant in it. My tastes are superior."

Then he swans off, and I'm left standing on the kerb.

Baz

A year into my time at university, I started treating myself to a monthly visit to Sephora. It was easily excusable then, with parties every weekend to justify each new purchase, but I've kept up the tradition since graduating. (Retail therapy and good skin care never hurt anyone. And a little eyeliner does wonders for one's self esteem.)

This month, I'm browsing for something sparkly. My eyes are grey, but with a dark, glittery liner I think they might stand out a little more. I'm just testing one of the pencils on the back of my hand when I see him.

Blond hair, plain blue eyes, and a constellation of freckles and moles across his skin. The most lovely man I have ever seen, with the worst taste in movies, and (I'm sure) a well-deserved hatred for me.

For all that I try to appear cool and confident, my facade sometimes fails me. When I get flustered, I become cruel. The man renting Die Hard was so pretty that all I could do was insult him and then curse myself for it the entire way home. I couldn't even properly enjoy Hugh Grant, as mired as I was in self-loathing. And now, whatever second chance to impress him I've been granted with has surely been ruined by my actions last time.

I keep my head down and steal glances at him through my eyelashes.

He is entirely out of his element, that much is obvious right away. I watch him ask one of the shop assistants for help, and she points him in the direction of a display. His brow furrows as he picks up different containers, and he’s ridiculously precious and hopeless as he holds a lipstick tube next to a garish eyeshadow palette and closes one eye to look at them. (What is he even doing?)

Finally, his confusion seems to win out, and he turns to look around for help, when he suddenly spots me. I've been caught out; I can't pretend now like I haven't been staring, and he scowls a little as we make eye contact. I arch an eyebrow, watch as his face grows pink in anger, and decide I hate myself enough to try talking to him again.

"That's really not your shade."

"What?" It's a simple word, horribly enunciated, and does nothing to quell the wrinkle between his eyes.

"The purple. I don't think it would flatter you. Furthermore, that lipstick clashes horribly with every color in that palette."

He turns a bright red and starts to splutter. I am hopelessly endeared.

"That's not- I, I don't- it isn't-"

"Oh, calm down, there's nothing wrong with wearing makeup," I say, flashing him the back of my hand with the eyeliner tests on it. "You just need to pick a better shade." I pluck a different palette (for blue eyes) and a lipstick in a true red from the display and hand them over. "Something like this."

He stares at them dumbly for a moment, his mouth hanging open. (Mouth breather.)

"You think I should wear this?"

"I think it would flatter you if you chose to wear makeup. That purple will do you no favors." I sneer at the garish eyeshadow still in his hand.

"It's for my friend!" he finally bursts out.

"Are you mad at her?" It's a reasonable question, that eyeshadow is truly appalling.

"No? It's her birthday next week, and she said that she wanted to have some makeup for date nights and things."

"Are you in love with her?"

"No!" No hesitation at all. "No, no way. Penny is like my sister. She's my best friend. We're not…" he trails off, and I'm strangely reassured. He still probably hates me, but at least there is one woman in the world that he’s not dating, so my odds have improved marginally.

"Don't get your pants in a twist. I just thought you might be, since that eyeshadow would certainly drive away her current boyfriend."

He sticks out his chin and seems to decide something.

"Fine. What should I get for her, then?" The “if you know so much” is left unsaid.

I'm not really an expert, despite my monthly purchases, but I'll take any excuse I can get to linger around this starburst of a boy for a few moments more.

"Does she wear makeup normally?" He shakes his head no. "Then perhaps start with something more subtle for her." I take the offending palette away and hand him a more subdued one, with a faint shimmer. "Do you think this would look nice on her?"

He thinks hard for a moment, then pulls out his phone, swiping at the lock screen and turning it to face me.

"This is her."

His home screen background is a picture of the two of them, cheeks pressed together and grinning like crazy under the summer sun. His curls are being tossed by the wind, and he looks like a bronze Adonis. I think my heart actually skips a beat at the sight.

"That palette will be fine then. This lipstick, too," I add, handing him a plum shade. "Do you need anything else?" I ask, and then cringe when I sound like I'm working instead of flirting.

He shakes his head.

"No, this is brilliant, thanks."

He still looks a bit confused, and he bites his lip as he looks down at the makeup in his hand - the makeup for his friend, and the things I picked out for him.

I don't want to go, but I can't figure out any way to prolong our conversation.

"You should get that one," he says, pointing to one of the lines on my hand. I raise an eyebrow in question. He's right, but what does this mean? Is he flirting? Does he want me to wear eyeliner? Is he just trying to repay me for helping him? "Yeah. Definitely that one."

He raps his knuckles on the counter beside us twice, and then wanders towards the check out.

It's not until I'm trying to fall asleep that I realize - he bought the makeup for himself too.

Simon

One of my foster fathers had a workshop, and I spent a happy summer watching him build a table and matching chairs for the dining room. I didn't get to stay to see it completed, because one of his biological children kept stealing money out of his mom's purse and blaming me, but I still enjoyed the time I had spent watching woodworking. I liked it so much that when Penny and I graduated and got a flat together, I saved up to buy a few tools. I don't make anything major, but I've built small shelves and a side table and a pan organizer for the flat, and I really like it.

Recently, Penny has been complaining about not being able to reach everything in the kitchen, so while she's still at work I stop by the B&Q to pick up some wood for a step stool. I'm heading to the check out when I see him - the mean makeup guy. (Although he was actually quite nice when we were talking about makeup. He was just rude when we were getting our movies.)

He's dressed casually today, in tight dark jeans and a warm grey sweater, with his hair falling in loose waves around his face. He's glaring down at two wrenches, and I hate that he still looks so good when he's glowering.

Before I even register what's happening, my feet have carried me over to him.

"D'ya need help?"

He startles, and turns lovely grey eyes up to look at me. It's work not to gasp. He’s wearing eyeliner. I'm not entirely sure, but I think it may even be the eyeliner I told him to buy.

"The sink in my kitchen is leaking. I watched a tutorial on YouTube, and it should be easy enough to fix, but I don't have the proper tools."

He goes back to glaring at the wrenches, and I lean over to take a look.

“You want that one.”

“Why? How do you know?”

“Well, it’s adjustable. You can change it within reason, so as long as your plumbing isn’t something incredibly out of the ordinary it should fit just fine.”

He looks surprised (and maybe a bit like he wants to attack me, although I try to ignore that).

“How do you know that?”

I laugh.

“Basic home maintenance, mate, I’ve had to fix a leaky sink before too, believe it or not.”

I grin at him until one corner of his mouth tips upward in response.

“Thanks,” he says, his cheeks flushing a little. “I’ll get this one then. Yes. Thank you. Have a nice evening.”

He strides off, once again leaving me feeling a bit dazed.

He looks really good in eyeliner.

Baz

When Fiona discovered I hadn’t left the apartment in a week, she called in the cavalry. Daphne showed up at my door with a casserole and some flowers, and within minutes she had the kitchen feeling like a place that was less utility space and more home.

“Basil, Fiona is worried about you.” I rolled my eyes, despite knowing it wouldn’t get me anywhere. “I’m worried about you, too. You spend so much time by yourself, and you hardly ever go out to see your friends or enjoy the city.”

“I’m fine. Thank you for your concern.”

“Basil,” she had said, and that time it was a warning. “It’s not healthy for anyone to spend this much time alone.”

“What, do you expect me to get a cat?”

Daphne smiled, and I knew that I had said the wrong thing.

“Yes, actually. And,” she said, before I could object, “Fiona thought you should too. In fact, she made it a condition of your continued occupancy of this flat. We both think it might be nice for you to have someone else around to talk to.”

I arched an eyebrow.

“And you want me to talk to a cat?”

Daphne just gave me a Mona Lisa smile, handed me a plate filled with food, and told me when she left later that evening that I had forty-eight hours to send her a picture of a cat. (I asked what I should do if I didn’t like any of the cats I saw. Or if they didn’t like me. She said I had to at least prove that I tried.)

So, this morning, I made my way to the nearest RSPCA and talked to strangers for the first time in over a week. I told them that I was looking to adopt a cat, and they immediately led me to a room filled with individual cages and an assortment of felines. They said I could play with any of the cats that I wanted, and now I’m staring into the eyes of a fluffy orange tabby.

The tabby meows at me, and I swear that she’s telling me to get lost. I guess cats can tell when you’re out of your depth.

I stroll down the aisle and read the names given to each cat. It’s been years since I last had a pet and even then, the husky my family had wasn’t my sole responsibility. I was in charge of feeding him, but there was always someone else making sure that I did. And really, we only adopted him when my pediatrician suggested that an animal might help me after my mother died. Daphne is probably trying to do the same thing again now. (Is this how one becomes a crazy cat lady? Depression, anxiety, OCD, and an unwillingness to tolerate therapy?)

I keep walking slowly until I feel a tug on my sleeve. I look down, and a little orange paw ending in one very sharp claw has latched on to me. I unhook it before my sweater can snag, and then look into the kennel. There are two kittens, each only about ten weeks old according to their cards, and the orange one is peering up at me with big blue eyes. Its littermate is asleep in the corner, curled into a fluffy black puffball, but the tabby is ready to play. His tail twitches, and he pounces immediately when I wiggle a finger between the bars. He catches my fingertip in a far more gentle grasp than I would have imagined, then looks at me with what can only be described as pure adoration.

“Excuse me,” I say, moving my finger some more and feeling small claws dig in. Then again, louder, to get the attention of the woman, “Excuse me. Can I see this one?”

The woman comes over and flips the latch, then reaches in and comes out with a handful of fur and knives. The kitten opens its mouth in a fierce imitation of a vampire, then stretches it further as it lapses into a yawn. We spend the better part of an hour in a bright, cheerful room, just the kitten and I. At first it chases a string that I drag along the ground and runs after balls with bells in them, but then it calms down and curls up in my lap to sleep.

I’m petting it and cooing softly to it, trying to ignore the fact that Daphne and Fiona were both right about this whole thing, when the door to the room opens again.

“Oh. It’s you,” says the most beautiful man I have ever seen. My face flushes when I remember our last encounter and I pray he doesn’t remember my ignorance. (Of course he does. I didn’t know how to select a wrench. I am incapable of basic home repair and he knows it.)

“Do you two know each other?” The woman from before is back, this time holding the other kitten from the same cage, and looking between the two of us. “These kittens aren’t technically a bonded pair, but they are siblings, the only two remaining from their litter, and it would be lovely if they could still see each other.”

“Err…” the man says, shifting his weight.

“We’ve met in passing a few times now,” I say, trying to avoid encouraging this line of questioning.

“Great!” she says, clapping her hands brightly after handing the kitten off. “I’ll leave all of you to get better acquainted then!”

For a moment, there’s just awkward silence. Neither of us are looking at each other, both focusing on our respective kittens. Then, his kitten turns into the feline equivalent of a slinky, oozes out of his grasp, and runs over to tap my leg once before running away again. It hides behind his legs, and all I can see is a black tail winding around his ankles.

We both laugh, and the ice is broken.

“I’m Simon,” he says, and smiles at me. It’s the same radiant smile I remember from his lockscreen. It feels like looking into the sun, and I bask in it.

“Basil. Although my friends call me Baz.”

“Are you going to…” he trails off, but gestures to my cat.

“Yes,” I look down and give it a scratch under the chin. “I’m going to adopt it.”

“Same here,” Simon says, and then he blushes. “I mean, unless it rips my face off in the next few minutes, but I think this is the one.”

“Do you know which one you have?” Their names and genders were on the cage, but it didn’t specify who was who.

“No idea. I’m going to rename mine anyway though, I didn’t like either of those names.”

“I was planning on doing the same thing. If I’m going to have a pet, it needs to have a proper name befitting its personality. Not something mundane like Fluffy.” I scowl, and he laughs.

As his kitten comes over to touch its nose to my kitten, Simon clears his throat.

“So, um, like she said, they’d probably be happy to have playdates or whatever. I mean, since we’re getting them. And since we keep running into each other. It might make sense to, you know, exchange numbers?”

“Yes!” I say, far too eagerly. “I mean, that seems reasonable. It would be more convenient than waiting to happen upon you in the Waitrose choosing inferior crisps to set up a future meeting.”

He smiles. “Well, yeah, there’s that. And this way, it’ll be easier for me to ask you out, ”

Then the absolute nightmare sits down beside me and hands me his phone. He texts me immediately once I enter my contact info.

Unknown Number (11:27 AM) This is Simon Snow

Unknown Number (11:27 AM) Your cat is cute.

Unknown Number (11:27 AM) So are you

Unknown Number (11:28 AM) Wanna get dinner sometime? ;)

I blush, and send him a reply.

Baz (11:29 AM) I thought you’d never ask.

#snowbaz fic #Purr-fect Strangers #a gift for a friend!#fuff #my fic

43 notes · View notes

s-and-n-writes · 3 years

Text

another long day

crimson and bluebell: part two

summary:

Marinette Rossi is tired of everything: from Lila’s constant berating and Madame Rossi’s preferential care of her ‘angel-like’ daughter, to how everyone at school (even Alya) seems to believe her evil stepsister over her.

It’s like she’s Cinderella, except without the fairy godmother and the happy ending. She doesn’t even have a prince.

Or so she thinks.

Between the appearance of a new boy who seems to have captured her heart, and a gala run by her fashion idol Gabriel Agreste, Marinette hopes for an escape the constant ignorance, workload, and bullying she endures, and get a blissful life of her own.

With the help of one tiny god and a meow-velous partner, she might finally get a chance, but not everything is that simple.

They say ladybugs are lucky, so will being the elusive Ladybug bring Marinette the luck she oh-so-desperately needs?

quick links:

< previous chapter | first chapter | next chapter >

| miraculous masterlist | series masterlist |

a/n: so hi again, it’s me, n! im so so so sorry that i didn’t post for a long time, school caught up with me and everything’s getting v stressful these days. regardless, my new year’s resolution is to post more of these, and i’ll actively make an effort to do that hehe, in the meantime, enjoy!

also i’m appalled at the fact that this was 15 pages long and took more than a month to write how are you doing

Marinette had thought that the whole coffee spill, glass breaking fiasco would be relatively easy to clean.

She was wrong.

It takes her all of 10 minutes to clean up the glass, and another 20 minutes to try and clean up the coffee.

Key word: try.

Marinette ends up at school 30 minutes late, the coffee-stained carpet rolled off to the side at home, effectively ruined. She hasn’t even thought about the cracked glass table yet, which she hid by placing a tissue over top of it after Lila left.

Needless to say, all of this puts a little bit of a damper on her day.

As Marinette walks up the staircase of Francois Dupont, the school she goes to, she spots Alya Cesaire inside. Alya is Marinette’s closest friend, and despite having moved to Paris only a year ago, it feels like Marinette has known her for their entire lives.

“Girl, girl, girl…” Alya sighs as Marinette walks through the doors. It’s a free period, and students litter the area. Marinette spots Lila walking with one of her friends on the other side of the school, and luckily, Lila doesn’t see her.

There’s one good thing about school that Marinette adores: she doesn’t have to see Lila. Lila’s always had Madame Mendeleev for homeroom, and Marinette’s had Madame Bustier. Because of this, their schedules never interact, which allows Marinette to avoid Lila for the duration of the school day.

“I’m so sorry!” Marinette pleads, running up to Alya and shrugging her backpack off her shoulder. “There was a coffee spill, and glass broke, and-OH GOD I MISSED THE MATH TEST!!!”

“Marinette, chill,” Alya laughs. “The math test got rescheduled, but Ms.Bustier is pretty mad about you being late,”

Marinette sighs. “That’s a relief,”

“But you still missed a lot of news~,” Alya says, singing the last word.

Alya aspires to be a journalist, so on the occasions that Marinette wasn’t late, Alya would give her anything and everything interesting she’d dug up that week.

"I know, I know," Marinette sighs, fingers loosely picking at her shirt again. The seams stay intact, but Marinette's mind doesn't. The coffee spill and the glass breaking is constantly on her mind; she's not sure what to do.

"Nice shirt, girl," Alya smiles, breaking Marinette away from her thoughts. Alya's good at that, and she notices when Marinette lets her mind wander, something that happens a little too often for her tastes. "Did you make it?"

Marinette bursts into a grin. "Yes! I used that gorgeous thread that Sabine bought last week for my birthday, you know, the one I kept talking about, and it was absolutely amazing! I had to make this! What do you think? Do you like it?"

The shirt is simple; a white base with flowers of varying sizes lining the edge. Marinette pairs it with her old, pink jeans (the fabric for the flowers on her shirt came from some leftover ones she had when making the jeans) and a dark-gray blazer that Lila used to own.

"It's beautiful," Alya smiles, "But hey, I’m more excited for you-know-who’s reaction,"

Marinette rolls her eyes, hiding her face as an involuntary blush rises to her face. "Alya! You know I don't like him like that!,"

Alya grins. "Just teasing,"

“Well, anyways, tell me what I missed during lunch, I’m off to the classroom, before Ms. Bustier comes looking for me,” Marinette smiles, turning and running up the stairs.

“Good luck, girl!” Alya says, waving goodbye and pulling out her phone.

The day passes quickly, and lunch comes sooner than Marinette expects.

She meets Alya outside of Francois Dupont, and they both head to Ville de Soirée, a cafe which isn’t nearly as expensive as the others in the area. They both order their usuals, and sit in one of the booths as they wait for their drinks.

Marinette sighs and leans back. “Ok, ok, tell me,”

Alya, who is most probably on the verge of exploding from her excitement, gears up. “Ok, so you know Nino, right?”

“You mean the boy you’ve been obsessing over since we met him?” Marinette teases. “Oh hey, I might have an inkling,”

Alya blushes, her cheeks tinting rouge. “Shut up,”

Marinette giggles. “Ok, go on,”

“Anyway, Nino texted me yesterday that his parents finally agreed, and he’ll be starting school starting Monday next week!”

“Ah! That’s so exciting! I’m so happy for you!” Marinette laughs. “Now you can actually make a move!”

“Don’t get ahead of yourself, I’ll let you play matchmaker when the time comes,” Alya laughs, “there’s also something else, and this one I know you’ll be even happier about,”

The barista interrupts Alya, placing two steaming drinks in front of them. They both reach for their drinks, with Marinette holding the cup in her hand and Alya taking a sip. She grins.

“Nino’s friend, you know, Adrien Agreste, is also coming too,”

She pulls back, looking smug as she tries to read Marinette’s face.

The girl in question sighs, shaking her head. “Who even is Adrien, and why does everyone keep mentioning him to me?”

Alya facepalms, groaning.

“Girl, sometimes I swear you live under a rock,” Alya sighs, shaking her head. “How do you not know who Adrien Agreste is? His ads are literally everywhere!”

Marinette pouts. “Well maybe I just haven’t seen him,”

Alya rolls her eyes and shakes her head. “Ohh no, there’s no way you’ve missed him ,”

She pulls up her phone and momentarily scrolls as Marinette waits.

“Here,” she says, “That’s him,”

The photo on Alya’s screen is from last February, Marinette recognizes. She remembers how Lila bought a copy of the magazine it came in, although she wasn’t allowed to see it.

But the boy is familiar. His face is similar to someone’s, but Marinette can’t pinpoint who it—

Oh.

He’s Gabriel Agreste’s son.

Marinette leans back.

“That’s Monsieur Agreste’s son! I should’ve known, how could I have missed it when Madame Rossi told us about him?”

Alya squints her eyes. “Wait what?”

“There’s a fashion show that Adrien’s dad is hosting, and the embassy’s holding a huge event to greet all the fashion officials that are coming. Madame Rossi got us all passes to go,” Marinette says.

“That’s the one my mom’s cooking for! It’s next weekend right? She would not stop talking about it all weekend. I can try and score a pass, to you know, keep you company?”

Marinette gasps suddenly, burying her face in her hands, “Ah! I forgot! I won’t be able to go, since Li— I mean I, spilled coffee all over our new carpet,”

Alya raises an eyebrow.

“Fine, fine, I cracked some glass too,” Marinette sighs, face growing redder. “Madame Rossi’s gonna ground me for sure!”

Alya shakes her head. “Somehow I can believe it. You are the clumsiest person I know,”

She nods thoughtfully, fingers closing around the fox necklace on her neck. “Well I can’t deal with the whole glass situation, but maybe I can help with the coffee stuff? Happens to my mom all the time,”

Marinette perks up. “Really? Would you? Oh thank you Alya!”

Alya laughs. “No problem girl, I’ll come by after your shift at the bakery,”

Marinette pauses. After work would be...when Lila comes home.

Alya has always been a fan of Lila, but despite knowing Marinette, she’s only admired Marinette’s less-than-wonderful sister from afar. This means that so far, Marinette has managed to keep Alya and Lila separate.

Does she really want to risk that?

Weighing in the situation, she sighs. Would she rather have a shot at attending a potentially life-changing event, or safely escape Alya meeting Lila?

Knowing the both of them, Marinette remembers, they’d be a deadly combo.

But Marinette really wants to go to the event so, maybe this time, she might just give in.

“Great!” Marinette says, happiness laced with fear. “That’s...great!

Alya nods, smiling, watching as Marinette giggles.

“Now about setting you up with Nino…”

Alya turns away, blushing, “Marinette!”

Today

Lie-la 😒: sup loser

Lie-la 😒: im going to the mall with my friends after school

Lie-la 😒: if my mom comes in early

Lie-la 😒: you know what to say

Lie-la 😒: type, maribrat. use those lousy fingers.

You: yea, sure lila.

Lie-la 😒: good.

Marinette sighs and pockets her phone. For today, she is safe.

And that’s all she has ever wanted.

Marinette’s day ends with her feeling happier than when it began. Alya’s coming over to wash out the coffee stain, Lila won’t be there when she gets home, and she’s heading to her shift at the bakery!

It’s normal for work to not be exciting to most people, but for Marinette, it always is. Heading to the Dupain-Cheng bakery is always the highlight of her day, and working there is even better. The owners, Sabine and Tom, are like the parents she never had, what with them spoiling her with all the food they give and teaching her how to bake. Customers even tell Marinette all the time that she looks strikingly similar to Sabine, but she doesn’t see it.

In truth, she’s only ever even thought about becoming a designer because of the Dupain-Chengs, and if it weren’t for their motivation, she’s sure that she would be in a much different place right now.

But that’s not what Marinette worries about right now. Despite school ending early and the bakery being right across the street from where she is, she still manages to be late.

She exchanges a quick goodbye with Alya, who chuckles at her frazzled state, and dashes off towards work.

“I’m here!” she shouts, running into the bakery, the familiar jingle of the store’s door’s bell ringing in her ears. “Sorry!

Sabine laughs as she hands a box of pastries to a customer, waving as they leave. “Just on time. Hello Marinette,”

Marinette winces as Sabine holds out her apron. “Sorry again, Sabine!”

Tom laughs from the kitchen behind the store, the sound booming through the bakery. “Marinette!”

“Tom!” Marinette says back, her lips curving into a smile.

Sabine eyes Marinette as she ties the apron behind her, quickly joining the older woman behind the counter.

“So?” she asks. “What’s new with you?”

Marinette sighs. “Not much, not much...oh! Madame Rossi has an embassy gathering to welcome a couple of famous people into France. And not just any people, people who work in the fashion industry!”

Sabine nods, smiling at Marinette’s delight. “And why exactly are these people coming?”

“It’s for the Gabriel event. I don’t know when it is, but apparently Gabriel Agreste is holding a huge gala, something about searching for a fashion assistant?,”

Sabine perks up at fashion assistant. “Marinette, you should enter!”

Marinette gasps. “I couldn’t! There’s no way! I mean, my designs are barely adequate, let alone Agreste worthy!”

Sabine shakes her head. “Everyone knows that isn’t true. Don’t put yourself down like that!”

Marinette blushes. “Thanks Sabine,”

The woman smiles. “Well, anyways, are you allowed to go to the embassy event? It’s a great opportunity, you wouldn’t want to miss it,”

“I mean, Madame Rossi did invite me and Lila, but Lila spilled a bunch of coffee on the carpet, and cracked the dining table this morning. It’s all a stunt, she did it on purpose. She’s blaming it on me, which means I’ll get grounded, and I won’t be able to go, and you know there’s nothing I can do about that,”

Sabine sighs, placing a hand on Marinette’s shoulder. “Oh dear. The next time I see Lila, I’ll tell Tom to get that girl and her mother arrested!”

Marinette laughs. “As much as I’d like that, where would I live?”

The rumble of the oven from behind the store dies down, and Tom walks into the main room. The room seems friendlier all at once, his large personality filling the space.

“Here, with us,” he declares proudly. “You’re like a daughter already,”

Marinette giggles, her cheeks growing red. “Alright guys, we’ll see,”

Sabine and Tom laugh as Marinette runs away to help a customer. Their afternoons with Marinette pass by quickly, and while they wish it was longer, you know what they say: time flies when you're having fun.

By the time Marinette gets off her shift, it’s 5:30 in the evening. Paris’s sky starts to fade from its normal cotton-candy blue to a marmalade orange. The hustle and bustle of the busy streets start to die down, and once she texts her address to Alya, Marinette makes her way to the bus stop.

While her time in the bakery is her favorite time of day, her time on the bus doesn’t prove to be too bad either. She likes the quiet silence, and enjoys her time away from the world around her.

The bus is probably her favorite mode of transportation (but her only one as well). When she volunteered to work at the bakery after school, Madame Rossi decided that ‘the streets were too dark at night for Marinette to walk alone’, and she was given a bus pass.

It was a small and random act of kindness that Marinette wouldn’t ever get again. It was also the only gift she ever got from her adopted mother, and despite not being too fond of Madame Rossi, she did treasure the gift.

Madame Rossi paid for her bus rides until Marinette was actually hired at the bakery. It was then that she decided to have Marinette pay her own bills, an action that most certainly helped Marinette for the future.

The sound of tires skidding against the pathway jolts Marinette out of her thoughts. She turns to see her normal bus waiting in front of her, and grabbing her bus pas, waits in line behind a couple others to get on.

That is, until she sees what’s about to happen.

Marinette watches as a man across the street tries to cross. He’s old, as his grayed hair and aged face tells, but his most identifiable quality is the red Hawaiian shirt he wears, embossed with a white hibiscus floral pattern.

Besides that, there’s also a car coming straight for him, and though it’s a little while away, there’s no doubt that he’ll get hit.

Marinette does the only thing she can think of. She runs.

The street is narrow, and Marinette manages to pull the man across the pathway before the car comes. She huffs, turning to the man to smile.

He has an odd look in his eyes, lips curved into a mysterious smile as Marinette quirks her eyebrow.

“Thank you, young lady,” he nods.

“You’re welcome!” she smiles, turning to look at the bus, which has started leaving. “Goodbye and stay safe, sir!”

The old man watches as Marinette just manages to catch the bus, stopping it and shouldering her backpack as she climbs on.

Marinette seats herself as the bus starts once more, and turns to her window to look for the old man.

But by the time she does, he’s gone.

Alya gets to Marinette's house at just the right time. When she reaches, Marinette has done a couple of her chores, cleaned up the living room, and put out the carpet in the first floor bathroom. Against the white rug, the coffee stain is obvious, and Marinette sighs as she inspects it.

How were they ever going to get it out?

There’s a knock at the front door, and Marinette knows it’s Alya. Smiling, the girl heads to the living room to open it.

Alya gasps as she sees the house. From the marble kitchen to the hickory-brown wood flooring, everything is pristine and clean, as if the Rossis live in a mansion.

(They don’t, but the house is still fairly big. Marinette sometimes has to clean it all as part of her chores, but luckily that hasn’t happened in a while.)

“Dang girl,” Alya sighs, “you rich or what?”

Marinette nervously laughs, cracking her knuckles. “Uh, I don’t know,”

“I’m joking,” Alya smiles. “But, random thing, where’s Lila?”

“She’s out. Doctor’s appointment for her, um, wrist,”

“Aw, that’s too bad. Tell her I said get better soon!”

Marinette sighs. She doesn’t like lying, but it’s far better than what would happen if she told the truth.

“Yea. Anyway, how are you getting the stain out? I tried all morning, but it was stuck,”

“Just watch me, girl,” Alya smirks. “Before we start though, you already blotted the stain,right?”

Marinette furrows her eyebrows. “Blotted? What do you mean?”

Alya demonstrates with her hands. “Like, did you take a paper towel and try to get as much of the stain out as you could?”

Marinette nods. “Yeah, that’s why I was late this morning,”

Alya nods. “Ok, so now we just have to make the cleaner,”

Marinette raises an eyebrow. “Make? This is getting a little crazy,”

“It’s really not,” Alya laughs, “I’ve done this a thousand times before. My sisters knock over my dad’s coffee way too much,”

Marinette laughs. “Alright then, show me what to do,”

Alya makes her way to the kitchen, filing through multiple cabinets. “Where’s your dish soap?”

“Bottom-left drawer next to the sink,” Marinette points.

“And your white vinegar?”

“Fridge. Anything else you need?”

“Just water,” Alya replies. “Warm, that is. And two cups of it,”

Marinette nods. “Got it,”

Alya takes out a steel bowl from one of the cabinets. “And can I use this?”

Marinette nods again. “Go ahead,”

“Great,” Alya says, pouring a spoon of dish soap followed by a spoon of vinegar. She waits for Marinette to get the water before adding that in as well, and then mixing. “That should do,”

“Work your magic then,” Marinette laughs.

“Just watch and see girl, I totally will,”

Alya finds a cleaning rag from a drawer in the island, and she runs over to the carpet. “Grab yourself a rag, Marinette, and let’s get started!”

Marinette laughs, and runs over to help. The time passes quickly, and by the time the coffee stain is gone and the carpet is dry, two hours have gone by. Their hands are sore and their legs are tired, but both can say that they had fun.

In the midst of it, Marinette almost doesn’t notice when Lila texts her.

Today

— 2 New Messages —

Lie-La 😒: open the back door

Lie-la 😒: im right by my house

Almost.

“Alya!” Marinette gasps, both sitting on the couch after the carpet was rolled back underneath the dining table. “It’s so late, don’t you have to go at 7?”

Alya tilts her head, confused. “No?”

“Oh well then I must have said it,” Marinette laughs nervously. “Yes that’s right! I’ve got work, haha. Bye!”

Marinette practically pushes Alya to the front door, while Alya looks lost and puzzled.

“Didn’t you already have work?” Alya asks.

“Yep, but gotta save up for uni right? Haha. Haha,”

Alya nods, squinting her eyes as she walks out the door.

“Um, bye? See you at school, girl,” Alya nods, quietly laughing.

“Bye!” Marinette smiles. Once Alya is farther away and out of sight, Marinette runs to open the back door. She can faintly hear the sounds of Lila’s friend’s car pulling into the driveway, so she dashes back upstairs as fast as she can. The last thing she wants to do is talk to Lila, much less be alone in a room with her.

She hopes that Lila won’t try anything while she’s in her room.

Sighing, she smiles when she stops at the attic door, and heads inside.

Before Madame Rossi found her and decided to take her in (how she came to that conclusion, Marinette would never know), the attic was all set to be Lila’s playroom. The entire room was painted pink from head to toe (even the carpet was a light shade of pink). There was a wooden wardrobe for all of Lila’s toys, and a desk with markers, painting supplies, and coloring pencils galore.

But then Marinette came along.

For one reason or another, she was given the attic as her own room. Out went the ideas of toys and tents in the room, and in came Marinette.

Madame Rossi didn’t give her anything. From the age of 2 till the age of 4, she slept on the ground, the lack of a bed present to her each night.

Until Lila outgrew her bed of course, which was then given to Marinette.

It was simple. Since Marinette was smaller than Lila, and slower at growing, she was often given Lila’s old things. All the clothes that Lila didn’t want, Marinette had. From her bed to the old beanbag in her room (one of the only things Lila gave her as decoration) everything was a hand me down from Lila herself.

Marinette sighs, and then flops into the bed. She’s lucky that Lila doesn’t bother if Marinette doesn’t get on her nerves.

Hopefully, until she can get out of this place, she’ll manage without angering Lila too much.

Standing up, Marinette locks herself in the attic, a faint click of the door behind her, and gets out her phone. Opening up Spotify, she starts her playlist, and goes over to the desk.

For the next hour, she does homework and finishes a project, all while sketching out designs for new dresses.

And hey, if she’s lucky, she might just be able to make one for the gala.

Marinette shuffles through her desk drawers, pop music playing through her earbuds. It’s nearly 8 PM and she’s searching for the special gold thread she had bought a couple weeks ago. It cost nearly a month's pay, and she’s been saving it for a special occasion.

With the dress she was sketching, she wanted to know if it was now.

She’s still searching through the drawers on the left side of the desk when she finds a box.

One that she feels might not have been there before.

(Then again, she rarely looks through all her drawers, so there’s always a chance that it could’ve been.)

Marinette feels confused. The box is made of a dark brown wood, and shaped like an octagon. The top of the box is embossed with a red design. Glimmering red circles meet wavy, thin lines, but Marinette is preoccupied with figuring out what the box is for.

In the end, she decides to open it. There can’t be much inside, can there?

Turns out, Marinette is wrong.

The moment she opens it is a frightful one. In that second, there’s a bright flash of light. It swirls around her as Marinette gasps, dropping the box onto the carpet as two solid-black earrings fall out.

That’s not the amazing part of it all though. After a second, Marinette comes face to face with a spotted red creature.

Needless to say, she screams.

“Hi Marinette!” the spotted creature says. “My name is Tikki! It’s nice to meet you!”

“Mouse!” Marinette hollers, “Bug! Bug-mouse! Talking bug mouse!”

Marinette scooches back, her hand grabbing books and papers off her desk as she throws them at Tikki.

“I’m here to help!” Tikki says, dodging the objects. “I’m here to help you!”

“Liar!” Marinette calls, searching for more things to throw. “This must be Lila’s version of a joke ! I can’t believe her!”

She takes her water-bottle from her backpack, and quickly moves to trap Tikki in it.

“It’s ok Marinette, I won’t hurt you,” Tikki smiles. “But if this makes you feel better, then this is ok!”

There’s a pause, and then Marinette sighs and chooses not to answer, leaning back, and quickly grabbing her school tablet off her desk. She points it at Tikki, trying her best to look intimidating.

“Who are you?” Marinette asks, “and what do you want?”

“Like I said, my name’s Tikki! I’m a kwami!” the tiny bug says, (still trapped in the bottle but floating in midair, Marinette notes) “And I want to help you!”

Marinette sighs, lowering her weapon tablet. “Did Lila send you somehow?”

Tikki furrows her forehead in place of her eyebrows. “No? Who’s Lila?”

Marinette bitterly chuckles, standing and throwing her arms into the air. “This. This. This is why you can’t help me. No one can. Anyone who meets Lila thinks she’s an ‘absolute angel’, and no one else knows her. How is someone supposed to help me if no one knows that my problem exists?!”

“Marinette,” Tikki sighs, “I promise you, I can help, if you’ll listen to me. Please let me explain, and then you can decide if you want to trust me or not, ok?”

Marinette pauses, considering the situation, and sits a fair distance away from Tikki, keeping her tablet in her hands.

“Ok,” she responds, facing the little bug. “But you have 5 minutes,”

Tikki smiles again. "And that's all I need,"

quick links: < previous chapter | first chapter | next chapter >

a/n: i resolve to post the next chapter soon lmaoo, thanks for reading! have an absolutely amazing day, you deserve it!

taglist:

i’ll be tagging the people that i had tagged before, along with a couple others who liked the previous chapter for this series. if you don’t want to get tagged, i’m very sorry! just shoot me a private message, and i’ll take you off the tags. if you do want to get tagged, just tell me with a private message or an ask and i’ll add you to the taglist. thank you!

@reddragonofemeraldflame @nomiegnome @18markers @katbab @emmathedestroyer @bluesesameseed @cyborgcandy @karukofox21 @aestheticnpoetic c @magnificentcrapposts @miraculouslylee @lonestarfangirl2014 @lambdaarietis @miraculous-twilight @miraculous-twilight @silver-twilight @emmarosemary11 @whiterosequeen23 @whatschooldoesntteachyou @shaykaleen @itswelphereiamuniverse @seraphichana @ladynoirotphell @tinynuggetofterror @tinkabella256 @coopermaggie

#ml #mlb #fanfic #marinette-dupain cheng #miraculous ladybug #miraculous #adrien agreste #adrienette #adrinette #nino lahiffe #alya cesaire #lila rossi #lila rossi bashing #lila #lila exposed #lila rossi tag #marinette tag #crimson and bluebell

54 notes · View notes