#Anyway I can't help think about that because Eight.... doesn't respond to anything anyone says
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emile-hides · 9 months ago
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I can't find it in my screenshots so I must have forgotten to capture it but in one interaction Pearl mentions Marina had to learn the language when she arrived on the surface, which confirms that Inklings and Octarians do speak different languages which is cool and neat world building but also
During Octo Expansion did Eight. Did Eight understand anything anyone was saying? Especially Cuttlefish?
Because like you could make the argument the main language of the Deep Sea Metro is Octarian, that'd make sense, so CQ and Iso Padre would have been speaking Octarian, and Marina over the phone may also speak Octarian and translate the chat messages to Octarian for Eight, and maybe she taught Pearl some too for fun or Pearl picked it up to help Marina when she first arrived, and Tartar obviously would be set to Octarian but like
Does Cuttlefish?? Know Octarian?? Fluently enough to RAP in Octarian?? Because he responds to what other characters say, and speaks to everyone else who speak back to him, unlike Eight who never says a word or is even implied to speak which really just leads me to believe they're all speaking Inklinese
So I ask again; Does Eight understand ANYONE during Octo expansion or are they just. Going with it.
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vickyvicarious · 5 months ago
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With joy I hurried to the window, and saw drive into the yard two great leiter-wagons, each drawn by eight sturdy horses, and at the head of each pair a Slovak, with his wide hat, great nail-studded belt, dirty sheepskin, and high boots. They had also their long staves in hand. I ran to the door, intending to descend and try and join them through the main hall, as I thought that way might be opened for them. Again a shock: my door was fastened on the outside.
Dracula's taking no chances. If anyone comes inside the castle, then Jonathan's locked in his room. This suggests a couple things: he doesn't have the time to personally watch over Jonathan because he is too busy managing whatever they're doing himself; he knows Jonathan has not lost hope and will try to leave or get a message out; he doesn't trust the people working for him not to assist if they get close enough to his captive; he knows being locked up in his room where he can see the way he's being ignored but is unable to do anything about it will be more agonizing for Jonathan. I'll take all of the above.
Another thing thought that's kind of interesting, is the descriptors of this group of people are all pretty neutral at first. It's stuff they have/are wearing, nothing that could be called negative except maybe "dirty sheepskin" at most. This is when Jonathan is rushing to the window "with joy" at the sight of them. But after he finds he is trapped in his room, and once his interactions with them go sour, he gets harsher: he describes them looking "stupidly" as they point at him, and "lazily" going to their horses as they leave. (Of course this is all written after the fact but I think in a way that is generally reflective of his opinions during the events.)
Jonathan's initial reaction to new people is still hope, but it seems as though Dracula's reinforcement of prejudices is working once they don't respond well. Of course, the narrative itself is telling both him and us that he's wrong to look to them for help in the first place, but I like to put that down to authorial racism. In my headcanon, the hetman makes a kind of bitter joke ("the Count has another guest") that they laugh at not out of genuine amusement or malice but out a kind of black humor which comes from knowing they don't have any power to save him. The fact that they "resolutely turned away" is because it's hard enough for them to ignore his pleas for help, and looking at him would make it even more emotionally wrenching or even tempt them to do something stupid to try and help him. And they know they can't, not if they want to make it out of here alive. Jonathan is too far away to see them wincing and gritting their teeth, to see the effort it takes not to look back, doesn't know the weight on their consciences and the 'it's you or both of us' choice they're making. His hopes are being disappointed again and it's feeding into stereotypes he's heard relayed as fact, so he loses trust in them and sees stupidity and malice where there isn't any.
Of course, this is all me working overtime to try and correct for the racism that Stoker was very much playing straight. But as I've said before, it works so much better with the themes of the book anyway. In any fanwork that doesn't want to be reinforcing the same awful stereotypes, but still staying in line with canon, I'd suggest taking this sort of tack. Give them a POV or even bring back a character who was here to see what they say about it when they can act more freely, that sort of thing.
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1dfangirls35 · 4 years ago
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The Language of Your Soul
An enemies to lovers ballet au in 5 acts
Masterlist // Tell Me What You Think
Banner: @booksncoffee​
Act II
Sorry for the intermission guys but I’m back! 
Warnings: This story (and chapter) will contain language, mentions of emotional abuse from a parent and eating disorders. Please read at your own discretion. 
Eight Weeks Until Opening Night
Giselle's left hand grips the cool metal of the bar, her legs shaking uncontrollably beneath her -a result no doubt, of her five mile run this morning before rehearsals. Maybe that hadn't been the best idea after all.
Giselle hears Teagan enter the studio after her, announcing her entrance with the loud thud of her duffle bag hitting the floor. Giselle watches as Teagan grabs her pointe shoes out of the bag, taking a seat on the floor a few feet away from Giselle.
Giselle hates that Teagan has to be here, taking part in Giselle's solo rehearsals. The role of Odette was challenging enough- a true feat of technical perfection and stamina. She didn't need Teagan, the person who could snatch her dream role out from under her with just a few missteps, to watch her struggle through her early rehearsals. It makes Giselle feel like she is the prey, and Teagan is lurking in the shadows simply waiting for a moment of weakness to swoop in and swallow her up.
"How are rehearsals with Harry going?" Teagan asks, breaking the silence.
"Fine," Giselle responds shortly. But rehearsals are not going fine. They are an all-out disaster.
In the week and a half since the cast list had been announced, Giselle and Harry had yet to practice beyond their scheduled company rehearsals and it was showing. Giselle had tried on numerous occasions to suggest they work on the basics on their own but Harry had pushed it aside saying, "You've just got to know the choreography better."  Giselle left every rehearsal feeling like a complete and utter failure- unworthy of dancing with the likes of Harry Styles.
"A dancer like that can make anyone look good," Teagan says with a tone that implies that Giselle needs some help "looking good". Giselle ignores the comment, instead, mentally running through the choreography for the Act II variation.
Anna Elliot interrupts Giselle's mental rehearsal as she enters the room. It's strange to see Anna in a black tracksuit instead of a leotard and tights, her dark black hair falling around her shoulders instead of pulled back into its usually neat bun. Her face looks tired; her usual bright smile absent. Giselle supposes it can't be easy for her to be on the other side of the stage, leading the rehearsal instead of dancing it.
"Ladies," she announces. "We are going to run through the Act II variation today. Giselle, you'll go first."
Giselle nods, pulling up the waistband of her white practice tutu as she positions herself upstage center in the studio. She tries to ignore Teagan's narrow eyes staring at her as the pianist begins  to play.
As she dances Giselle thinks through each and every movement. Smooth développé, lifted attitude, airy bourrées. When she finishes her chaîné turns at the end of the variation, she exhales deeply- not realizing how much she had been holding her breath.
She looks towards Anna for approval. "Nicely done Giselle. Now I'd like you to work on those  chaînés at the end. Really make sure they are tight and quick."
Giselle nods in understanding.
"But overall, beautiful execution of the choreography. We really just need to fine tune."
Giselle smiles smugly, glancing at Teagan who stands with her arms crossed over her chest.
"Teagan," Anna announces, gesturing for the understudy to take her stab at the variation. Giselle watches as Teagan runs the variation, but mentally she's thinking about all the things she could have done better in her own.
"Well done, Teagan. Now your attitudes were a little sloppy, let's work on really lengthening that back leg and lifting your chest okay?" Teagan nods. "But I loved the emotion that you put into your dancing. Giselle?" Anna calls, grabbing her attention. "Did you notice the emotion that Teagan puts into her movements? It's something that I'd like you to work on incorporating into your variation. The audience needs to feel what Odette is feeling through you. Let's do it from the top."
Giselle runs the routine again. She tries to 'portray the emotion' like Anna wants, but instead her heads caught up in executing her turns and keeping her arms sharp. When she ends the variation, Anna looks over at her with disappointed eyes. "More" is all she says.
Giselle runs it again. And another time. And each time, Anna tells her it is not enough. That Giselle needs to embrace being Odette. That the audience needs to understand the pain of her being trapped in this body of a swan with no escape.
"Teagan, why don't you run again. Giselle pay close attention this time."
Giselle feels her frustration grow as she watches Teagan again. Teagan's movements are still sloppy, and she messes up the step-over turns at the end, but when she finishes Anna looks over at Giselle like they've just watched the most magnificent performance. "That is the emotion I need to see Giselle."
Anna looks down at her watch. "Well I think our rehearsal time is up for today. Keep working on that emotion Giselle, its a very important part of this ballet."
Giselle nods and smiles, but inside her guts are wrenching at the thought of this rehearsal getting back to her mother. She has to do better. She must.
******
If Harry had learned one thing in his time as a professional ballet dancer, it was that relationships and commitments were the hidden poison of a professional dancer's career. He'd watched many sets of partners fall in love, only to ruin their careers in the aftermath of their failed relationship.
That is why Harry chose to remain unattached. Well, the why he chose to accept anyway. He wasn't a man that ignored his needs, but a night with Harry Styles was just that- a night. No feelings and no attachments.
Take for example the girl he took home last week after the party for his addition to the company. What was her name again? Eliza, yes that's right. There was absolutely nothing wrong with Eliza. She was pretty, a fair conversationalist and perfectly good in bed. Harry had supposed she must even be a decent ballerina, considering she was a corps de ballet member at the American Ballet Theatre. But to Harry, Eliza had only been a nice shag and a body to fall asleep next to on a night when a bustling New York City felt a little too lonely.
Apparently, however, Harry had been less than clear with dear Eliza about this, because as Harry chats with the tall, auburn-haired dancer standing in front of him as they warm up for company class, he can see the daggers of jealousy emitting from Eliza's eyes. He doesn't know this girl's name, the new one, but he can already sense the desire wafting from her body. The way she's learning forward to be closer to him as she stretches. The way she's laughing theatrically with every word that Harry says. The way her eyes are lingering on his lips for just a second too long as he speaks. He's beginning to think she might be a little much for him and makes a mental note to choose a different spot at the barre for tomorrow's company class.
He knows he's in trouble when the second the reverence ends, Eliza rushes over to him with and without saying a word slaps him across the cheek with more force than he thought possible out of her thin little arms.
Harry's skin stings from the blow, the corner of his eye watering ever so slightly. He presses a hand to the injured tissue in response to the attack. But this is not the first time Harry's received such an offense, and it likely won't be the last.
"So what are you just jumping on to the next one?" she shrieks. Harry looks around the room, noticing that people have stopped packing up their things and are now staring at him like he's a caged animal at the zoo.
"I'm sorry love, I'm not sure what you mean," Harry says in a low voice, hoping to signal to this highly emotional girl that this was not the time nor the place to have a reaction like this.
His words, however, appear to have the opposite effect because he watches her eyes flair with a new burst of anguish.
"Rachel!" the girl shouts, as if Harry has the foggiest idea who Rachel is. "Everyone in the room could see how much she was flirting with you. Did last weekend mean nothing to you?!" Eliza's thrown her hands up now, gesturing wildly in a way that's anything but graceful. "You said you would call and you never did."
Harry glances at his audience.  Mistress Ivanova is standing in  the corner with her arms crossed, looking less than pleased. He grabs Eliza's arm, pulling her towards the door and into the hallway. "Let's take this outside."
When they stop in the hallway, dancers bustling past them on the way to their next rehearsal. Eliza looks up at him. Her brown eyes are tinged with red and Harry wonders if she's about to cry. He'd made a mistake with this one clearly. She was too emotional. Too clingy. Too easily attached. "I never said I would call." Harry says softly, trying to keep his voice calm but firm.
"But you said you had a 'lovely time last night. Thank you.' Eliza sniffles.
She isn't wrong about that. Harry thought. And he did have a lovely time. He usually had a lovely time. But that certainly didn't mean he planned to repeat it. "I did have a lovely time Eliza." he begins, watching as her eyes flicker with something resembling hope. "But that doesn't mean I was going to call."
"It doesn't?" the girl sniffed, bringing her hand up to wipe a stray tear from the corner of her eye.
"Listen, love. I don't do dating. I don't do commitments. I don't do relationships. It's nothing against you. I'm certain you're a lovely girl. It's just..." Harry pauses. "How I do things."
Eliza looks at him wide-eyed, like Harry has just burst her forty-eight hour fantasy that they were going to run away together and travel the world and fall in love.
"I'm sorry if you got the impression that that was simply more than a one night thing. That was never my intention."
"Okay," she says timidly, and he can tell she's embarrassed. She shouldn't be- she wasn't the first girl to react like this. Harry seemed to draw admirers to him like mosquitos to sitting water. Some knew it couldn't be more than a one-night stand, others, like Eliza, reveled in the fantasy that they were the one that would convert Harry Styles into a life of commitment. The later were always disappointed.
"Are we good then? This won't happen again?" Harry raises his eyebrow. He's already fearing the repercussions he may get from Eliza's little outburst. He is already on a short leash here at ABT, and this was surely not going to help matters.
"We're good," she replies softly, but her face is filled with defeat.
"Well then, off to rehearsals." Harry adjusts his duffle bag across his shoulder and makes his way towards his rehearsal studio.
Harry already knows he's late when he enters the rehearsal studio. Giselle's standing there with her arms crossed, tapping the tip of her pointe shoe against the floor with impatience. She doesn't scare him, but the face of Mistress Ivanova when he enters the room does.
"Mr. Styles," she announces with a voice that resembles that of a mother about to lecture her young child. "Let me be the first to say that I take little interest in who you choose to spend your personal time with. When the choices made in that personal time, however, disturb my class and my rehearsals, it becomes my business. What happened today was completely unacceptable. And it will not happen again. May I remind you that you are on a very short leash here at ABT. Another incident like today and you will be replaced."
Six months ago, when Harry was at the Royal, he might have argued back. Reminded this instructor that she could replace him all she wanted but that people had bought their season tickets to see HIM- not some understudy. Reminded Mistress Ivanova that he could have a spot at any company in the world, and that it was HER job to make sure he stayed. But that kind of reaction, that thought process, was exactly what had landed him in this position in the first place- half a world away from home. Alone and at risk of losing a career in dance. So he bites his tongue and simply replies, "I understand."
He glances over at Giselle, who has something resembling a smirk across her face. When his eyes meet hers she quickly turns away.
"Now, we are going to work on the Act II white adagio today. I presume you two have spent some time together working on partnering so this should go smoothly." Mistress Ivanova claps her hands and signals the pianist to begin playing the music.
The fact that they hadn't practiced quickly becomes apparent. Their timing is completely off, the promenades are wobbly,  and the dancing seems forced and unfamiliar.
"Maybe if you weren't making your way through the entire corps de ballet we could actually rehearse together," Giselle mutters under her breath as Mistress Ivanova leaves the room with a face that looks less than pleased.
"Maybe if you didn't act like I was about to drop you every time we promenade..." Harry begins.
"How do I know you aren't going to drop me when we've barely danced together?!"
Harry laughs. "I'm Harry Styles. I don't drop my partners, no matter how...annoying I may find them."
"Oh please," Giselle rolls her eyes. "Are you trying to make everyone in this company hate you? I mean if you keep at it with the corps and you'll have to skip company class all together." Giselle preps for a pirouette then relevés, feeling Harry's firm grip on her waist as she turns and he stops her abruptly. "Although I don't know, I get the sense that you like all that attention."
"Believe me Giselle," he accentuates the end of her name like it's a bad sound. "The last thing I want is to get emotionally involved with any of these company members."
Giselle preps for a pirouette again, this time Harry stops her smoothly, and she comes to balance in passé before lowering herself back onto her heels.
"Seems like Eliza was emotionally involved this morning. Sex will do that to people."
"Sex is just dancing without clothes, love." Harry replies, and the way his eyes meet hers in the mirror while his hands are placed on her waist sends a shiver down Giselle's spine. "Haven't you ever spent the night with someone just to escape?"
"Of course." Giselle responds, stumbling in her words only slightly. "But I know the importance of keeping my career and my private life separate."
The truth of the matter was, of late, Giselle hadn't had much of a private life. It was ballet this, ballet that. Any hours not spent in the studio were spent icing her achying feet and tired muscles. Giselle had done it once, the whole relationship thing. He was a young businessman who she met at a fundraiser for the company and he had been wonderful. Until she began to spend time with him instead of in the studio, and her mother quickly noticed her regression of skills.
Natalia Korsakova had been quick to express her distaste in the relationship and the effect it was having on her daughter's dancing. But luckily (or unluckily) for Giselle, she didn't have to be the one to break it off. One night she was laying in bed, watching a movie with a man she thought she might be falling for. Two days later, he simply stopped answering her texts or picking up his phone. He simply dropped out of Giselle's life with no explanation.
After that, Giselle knew better then to get involved with anyone who might distract her from her career. She decided maybe it was for the better, after all if there was one theme to be taken from the world of ballet, it was that love rarely ended in happy endings. There were far too many leads who sacrificed their lives in the name of love and for what? A pretty pas de deux in a pancake tutu of the afterlife?
"Hmm," Harry replies, but by the way his lips have formed into a kind of half smirk Giselle doesn't think he believes her.
They run through the variation again. It's better, their timing not nearly as disasterous as it had been a half hour earlier, but it still feels off. Unfamiliar. Like they were two strangers dancing, which Giselle supposed they were.
Mistress Ivanova doesn't return to the studio. Instead, it's Viktor who appears, twisting his hands together in awkwardness as he steps towards the front of the room. "Mistress Ivanova sent me in to run you through the variation again. She says she doesn't want to see it again until it, and I quote," Viktor pauses for emphasis. "No longer looks like it's torture to dance with each other."
Giselle hears a low chuckle leave Harry's lips. Was he amused by this? The fact that his inability to do what was asked of him had pissed off Mistress Ivanova.
"Let's run it. From the top," Viktor gestures to the pianist that has also returned to the room.
Giselle sighs, taking a deep breath before making her way to the starting point. The run the piece once- Giselle falls from the promenade. A second time- Harry doesn't stop her on the last pirouette. The third time is less technically faulty, but when Viktor stops them again, his face looks less than thrilled.
"Look guys, I know it can't be easy, being thrown into rehearsals with someone you've never danced with before. All your issues can be fixed easily once you are more comfortable with each other. More familiar with each others movements. It's going to take time, and rehearsal. And that's going to have to be rehearsal outside of normal hours."
Giselle glances over at Harry. His lips are formed in a straight line- emotionless.
"Just please. Practice before next weeks rehearsal with her?" Viktor's eyes are pleading this time, like he doesn't want to have to be the bad guy in this situation anymore.
Giselle nods, but out of the corner of her eye she notices that Harry remains completely still.
"Well, that's all for today. Thanks guys." Viktor announces before leaving the studio.
Giselle sits down, untying the ribbon of her pointe shoes. "So when would you be available to practice?"
Harry scoffs. "Practice? I don't think I'm the one that needs to learn the fucking choreography."
Giselle is taken aback by Harry's harsh tone. But she wasn't going to put up with this. Like it or not she was Harry's partner. And like it or not, they were going to have to put in some time if they wanted to keep their roles as the stars of the show. Harry was simply going to have to realize that he had just as much to practice as she does.
"No one said anything about the choreography," Giselle replies, her voice strong. "This isn't the Royal, Harry you can't go walking around like you own the place."
"And you can?" Harry scoffs. "Just because your mother's got a spot on the board doesn't make you the star of the show, love."
The word love at the end of his sentence almost cushions the blow of his words. Almost.
"You don't know the first thing about my relationship with my mother," Giselle spit back.
"And you don't know anything about starring in a show-clearly."
Giselle doesn't respond to this one. Instead she just narrows her eyes. "Tomorrow night, after rehearsals. This studio. We have to practice Harry, I won't have Mistress Ivanova storm out of another one of our rehearsals."
"And what are you going to do if I don't show? Are you going to run and cry to your mummy?" Harry taunts.
Giselle stands, slinging her bag across her shoulder. "I'll see you tomorrow," she states firmly.
She can feel her blood boiling as she exits the studio and makes her way towards the staircase. If this was what it was like to be Odette, maybe she wasn't cut out for it. It was hard to imagine a scenario and which her and Harry's partnership would result in a magnificent performance.
"Giselle!" she turns and sees Viktor from the corner of eye, near the end of the hallway. He rushes towards her.
"Good job today. Harry may not be the most..." he stops, his mind searching for the word, "enthusiastic partner."
Giselle offers a weak smile. "You can say that again."
"If you ever want extra practice, I'd be more than happy to run through any of the variations with you. It may not be the solution to all your problems but..."
"Thank you Viktor, I appreciate it." She smiles and makes a step towards the door. "Sorry to hear about your retirement by the way, I'll really miss watching you on stage."
Viktor shrugs. "I guess sometimes it's just time to let one journey come to an end. You won't miss me too much though, I'm gonna be more involved with rehearsals." He smiles, but Giselle can see that behind his blue eyes, pain hides.
"Good. Well, I better go get some rest. Caleb has been texting me non-stop about our dinner plans for the evening," Giselle gestures towards the stairs.
"Better get on that then, don't want to keep the man waiting. Good night Giselle."
"Goodnight," she replies.
******************************
Giselle wishes she hadn't agreed on dinner with Caleb as she opens the door to her apartment. But Caleb was her best friend, and after a long day of rehearsals, his company was something that she desperately needed.
As Giselle sets her black duffle bag on the floor inside her bedroom, her phone begins to ring on the kitchen counter. She leaps across the floor to reach it, but when she glances down, the name on the screen makes her pulse quicken. Could this day get any worse?
"Hello mother," Giselle brings the phone to her ear, walking over to the couch and laying down, her feet up in the air.
"Giselle," her mother replies curtly. There's no darling at the end of her name. That's how Giselle knows this isn't a happy check-in motherly phone call. It's going to be the kind of phone call Giselle wishes she could mute. But then again, that's what everyone of mother's phone calls was.
"I ran into Mistress Ivanova this afternoon. I have to say Giselle, I was quite disappointed when I asked about rehearsals and she told me that she had to leave your pas de deux rehearsal because of how much work needed to be done. How many times have we discussed the importance of going into rehearsals prepared?"
Only a million times. Giselle responds in her head, but instead she remains silent.
"Now what on earth is going on between you and Harry Styles? Do you know how hard we worked to bring him here? I hope you are being a good partner. Have you been following that diet I sent you? Getting your extra mile in in the mornings?"
"Yes mother," she responds in monotone. She won't mention the street tacos Caleb is bringing over for dinner. She can't listen to that lecture tonight. "I've been trying to get Harry to put in the extra time, but he seems uninterested."
"Well try harder Giselle. You can't be the reason he doesn't stay at the company. Can you imagine the embarrassment I would get if my own daughter was the reason we lost out on one of the premier male ballet dancers of this generation? I don't know if I could show my face at a board meeting ever again."
Of course it was her own reputation her mother was concerned about. It didn't matter that Harry Styles might ruin Giselle's chances of every making principal. All that mattered was that Natalia Korsakova maintained her legacy.
Giselle hears a knock at the door. Caleb, thank god. She rises from the couch and makes her way to the door. "Find a way to get things going with Harry.  Rehearse with him. Next time I speak with Mistress Ivanova I don't want to hear a negative thing about your performance." Giselle opens the door to see a smiling Caleb, brown paper bag in hand. "You have to do better Giselle, this may be your only opportunity to prove you can dance at a principal level."
Caleb mouths "Your mom?" and Giselle nods as he enters the apartment, setting the bag on the table and then making his way towards the white cupboards for plates.
"I know mom. It won't happen again. Listen, I've got to go. Caleb's going to run through Act II with me for a bit. Okay?"
"Okay," her mother sighs on the other line. Like it's a terrible inconvenience for her to have been on the phone for so long. "But don't forget to reach out to Harry about rehearsals too."
"I won't. Goodbye mom."
"Bye," Natalia responds, but Giselle barely hears her words before hanging up.
Giselle slams her phone down on the kitchen table which results in a raised eyebrow from Caleb "What'd she have to lecture you on today?"
"My disaster of a pas de deux rehearsal," Giselle shakes her head, making her way to the sink and filling a glass of water.
"And why was it such a disaster?" Caleb asks, setting a plate and napkin in front of Giselle's spot.
"Because Mistress Ivanova walked out on us,"
Giselle watches as shock fills her best friend's face. He stops what he is doing. "She what?"
"She walked out. And she won't rehearse with us again until we don't 'look like it's torture to dance with each other."
"It's that bad?" Caleb asks, now taking a bite of his taco.
"Worse. I mean it's been almost two weeks since cast posting and Harry has yet to agree to practice with me outside of rehearsals. I mean how our we ever going to dance with each other if we don't practice!"
Caleb opens his mouth to say something but Giselle continues. "I finally had enough today. I told him we are practicing tomorrow night. Doubt he shows though. And then what? My one chance to prove myself and it's a complete disaster."
"Gi," Caleb says, reaching for her hand across the table. "Take a deep breath."
She looks into his brown eyes and follows as they inhale and exhale in unison. It was an action they'd done a million times before, backstage awaiting their first performance as company members, when Caleb submitted his first choreographed routine to a local amateur dance company. It always seemed to bring them back to center, wherever they were, whatever the stressor, one deep breathe and things began to fall back into place.
Giselle would like to say that this worked a miracle. That the thought of failing her mother yet again wasn't racing through her mind. But it still was. Fainter, but still lingering.
"I just don't know what to do with him, Caleb. Harry Styles has to be the worst partner in the world."
"He's definitely proved why he got kicked out of the Royal. Guy's got an attitude."
"Why couldn't you be my partner?" Giselle sighed.
"Because, as Mistress Ivanova would say. I waste too much of my time on that choreography dream," Caleb sighs.
"It's not a waste of time, Caleb. You're choreography is groundbreaking."
"Maybe. Maybe not. But do you know what is groundbreaking? These tacos."
Giselle hasn't touched the fried, greasy mess wrapped in foil in front of her. To be honest, she isn't even hungry. If she had been alone in her apartment, she'd likely have opted for a salad, if anything at all. But Caleb was one of those people who believed food was the best cure after a long day. And Giselle needed his company more than anything, so she forces down the greasiness bite by bite.
Caleb begins to fill Giselle in on his own Swan Lake rehearsals. As well as the piece he is choreographing that he hopes Gregory, the artistic director will consider for the school showcase come spring. Then he updates her as always, on Finn, the coffee shop owner from down the street that he is infatuated with.
As they chat, Caleb's favorite street tacos grow heavy in Giselle's stomach.
Giselle makes her way to the bathroom, locking the door behind her with a click. She examines herself in the mirror, bringing a hand up to pull at her cheek. Her chin looks large, like she's had just a few too many street tacos, and her collarbones lack the definition that usually makes them stand out from her shoulders. Her mom's words echo through her mind. "Eat less Giselle. Exercise more Giselle. You need to be a good partner Giselle."
Giselle doesn't want to. She's been so good for so long, but yet- the urge is coming over her and it's so strong she can't ignore it, because she just knows that if she does this she will feel better. Just this once. Just until that heavy feeling of greasy street food is no longer lingering in her stomach.
She flips on the faucet, letting the sound of running water drum in the background.
She walks over to the toilet and kneels down, the gray ceramic tile of her bathroom floor is cold and hard, and her knees crack as she adjusts her weight. She leans over the toilet, her mouth open and her fingers nearby, willing up the strength to just do it. A few moments, and she could forget those tacos happened all together.
Giselle closes her eyes and executes and soon her dinner is staring back at her from the toilet bowl. She wipes her mouth with the back of her hand, reaching up and flushing the evidence. She then moves to the sink, cupping water into her hands until there's enough to gargle in her throat and rinse the sour taste from her mouth. She reaches for the pink toothbrush on the corner of the counter, applying a thin line of mint toothpaste before beginning to brush.
As she brushes, she tells herself this is just a one time thing. A solution to one poor dietary decision. She wasn't falling back into her old habits. This wouldn't happen again.
As she spit out the minty foam and looked in the mirror once more, Giselle told herself she felt better.
"Gi?" Caleb knocks on the door, bringing her out of her trance. "You alright in there?"
Giselle opens the door quickly, forcing a smile on her face. "Fine, tacos just didn't settle well." She pushes towards the couch, eager to get something else on her mind. "Shall we watch the next episode of The Crown?"
"Sounds perfect," Caleb replies, settling into the couch beside her.
**********************
Harry's not sure who is more surprised as he walks into the rehearsal studio later the next afternoon- Giselle or himself. He hadn't wanted to show up. But after the events with Eliza and the way rehearsal went, he knew he didn't have much choice. This didn't have to become a regular occurrence, just enough to get the Director off his back - and his obnoxious partner. Plus, dancing was better than sitting in his tiny New York City apartment alone, which seemed to have become even more lonely in recent weeks.
"Look who decided to make an appearance," Giselle says, hands on her hips as Harry slings his duffle bag to the side of the room.
"Yes I'm here. No need to gloat about it," Harry snaps. He wasn't sure what had come over him lately, this newfound bitterness. He supposed it had something to do with the fact that for the first time in his career, he was feeling the pressure of messing up. He could lose everything.
Harry had always been arrogant. He knew that about himself. It was the role he played to protect himself- from getting too close and getting hurt all over again. But as this personality trait slowly burned through his professional life, he began to wonder if it was doing more harm than good.
"Well then," he asks. "Shall we rehearse?" He looks at Giselle, who simply stares at him. The tip of her pointe shoe tapping against the Marley floor. What was she waiting for?
"Look Giselle, you don't like me. I get it. I'm not particularly fond of you either, but I showed up today and I'm ready to figure this out. This partnership. So can we please just rehearse?"
Giselle stares at him, slightly amused by the reversal of roles- the fact that for once Harry Styles was the one begging for her to practice with him. Her lips curve into a half smile. "Okay."
"I think we should go back to the basics. Finger pirouettes, whip turns, the whole lot." Giselle nods in agreement. Where had this Harry come from? She felt like at any moment she might jolt awake from her bed and realize this was all a dream, because this was certainly not the version of Harry Styles she had encountered during their first two weeks as partners. She wants to ask him about his sudden change of heart, but decides to bite her tongue. It didn't matter why Harry was here, just that he was.
Giselle stands in front of Harry her feet in relevé. She reaches for his hands, one above her and one beside her.
"How's that for grip?" Harry asks.
Giselle's startled that he's asking for her input. "Good...ya...let's just see..." She raises her leg to passé, then développé it to the front and turns. "Maybe bring my left arm a little more forward," she suggests, then turns again. "Yes that's better."
They continue this formula through the basics. Whip turns, fish dips, shoulder sits, promenades. Harry tells Giselle when she's not holding enough of her weight. Giselle tells Harry when his grip is too strong, too lose.
He's calmer today- more present. Giselle can see that he actually could be a very good partner- when he tries too. He's gentle with his lifts, steady with his balance, and although she doesn't trust him fully, she doesn't get the sense that he's going to purposefully let her fall on her face.
Giselle even thinks, that as she stares into Harry's eyes after a dip- that there's a glimmer of softness between the strong green hue. She sees why women find him attractive. Why girls in the corps fawn over him. His jawline was flawless- razor sharp. What are you thinking Giselle, she thinks to herself. All the beauty in the world can't hide his personality.
"Shall we run Act II?" Harry asks, and Giselle is shocked. She figured that she'd only be able to convince Harry to rehearse for an hour tops, and two had already passed.
"I think that would be good," she says.
Harry nods as they move to their places. Act II goes smoother than it has before. There's still hiccups. Giselle's body still feels unfamiliar in his hands and he can't anticipate her movements like he could Mia's- but Giselle's confidence has grown and he thinks there's a potential for this not to end in full on disaster.
She's quite good actually. Her technique is near flawless- no doubt due to the hours of late nights she spends in the studio. And Harry realizes that maybe he has been a bit unfair to her. She still was annoying, a perfectionist, too wrapped up in the movement instead of simply dancing- but she was a good dancer. She had potential.
"Think that's enough for tonight," Giselle pants, out of breath from their third run-through of the pas de deux. "Shall we do this again tomorrow?" After the words leave her mouth, she wonders if this is pushing it to far. Maybe she should have settled for one rehearsal with Harry. Getting him to show up for to rehearsals two nights in a row seemed highly unlikely.
"Okay," Harry responds, his answer shocking even himself. "I think we are getting somewhere. It just takes time." He makes his way over to the bar, leaning forward to stretch his hamstrings.
Giselle sits on the ground, unwrapping the silk ribbon of her pointe shoes.
"You know the steps Giselle and I'll make sure you look good out there. Promise," he says, and Giselle thinks that maybe she can see even a hint of a smile.
Giselle pulls her foot out of her shoe, folding her tights back to reveal her stinging blistered feet. She glances over at Harry, his face buried against his leg at the bar- his tights showing off his perfectly toned leg. It makes her think about him- the rumors about his arrival at ABT. She knows she shouldn't ruin the moment but she can't help herself. The words slip out.
"Did you do it?"
"Do what?" Harry asks, but the smirk on his face tells Giselle that he already knows exactly what she is about to ask about.
"Sleep with the director's wife."
"What's it to you?" Harry mutters, placing his other leg on the barre and stretching against it, the muscles of his back growing taunt beneath his white T-shirt.
Giselle shrugged. She didn't know why she was asking. She didn't care. Whatever had transpired at the Royal to bring Harry Styles into her studio was said and done. It's not like she could ship him back there, much to her dismay. "Just wanted to know if there was any fact behind the rumors."
"I could have," Harry says the sharp green of his eyes temporarily dimming. "There are countless women who have thrown themselves at my feet during my career, Mrs. Abbot included."
"But if you didn't... why'd you leave the Royal?"
"Now why would I tell you that when there's such a good story brewing in the company? I hate to kill a good rumor," He chuckles, his voice deep and velvety. He picks up his bag, sliding it across his body in one fluid movement. "Goodnight Giselle. I'll see you tomorrow."
And for the first time Giselle found herself not watching Harry Styles walk away with a feeling of distaste, but a feeling of curiosity.
Taglist:
@tpwkhoney​ ,  @swtxel , @stylessugarhigh
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ladywinterwitch · 4 years ago
Text
Run Away (Eight- What You Gotta Do)
Pairing: Steve Rogers x Avenger! Reader
Summary: You and Steve complete each other. Your love is that strong and devoted kind of love that pushes people to things like marriage, making a family. You couldn't imagine that a baby would be something you really wished, until the possibility wasn't your choice anymore.
Warnings:  A bit of angst, pregnancy talk, mentions of injuries, mentions of abandonement (mild), fluff, reader is still an emotional rollercoaster, cursing and swearing, smut, unprotected sex (too late for these two lmao), oral sex (f recieving), brief mentions of body insicurities, Bucky’s a puppy dog.
Words Count: 5289
A/n: Part eight! I can’t believe that I’ve actually come this far lmao. Plus, me posting stuff with less than 44827 years of distance with each other? A miracle. I always said that I would wrap it up at 10 chapters,but while writing this chapter I realized that I will need one or two extra chapters + the epilogue. We’ll see. For now I’m happy to be able to write lol. Series masterlist here, main masterlist here. Enjoy <3
ps: Chris’s look in that gif,,,chile 
Tumblr media Tumblr media
                       (gif not mine)
In the following week you saw Steve once a day, just to assure that he was doing fine. He wasn' sleeping in your shared room for the moment, but in a spare bedroom. You knew that you were probably being harsh with him, but you were so mad. It wasn't the first time that he did something stupid to try and save others. Hell, just think about that damned plane crash that put him in the ice in the first place.
You understood the reasons why, and basically everyone tried to talk with you and kinda 'sugar coat it' but the issue wasn't that you didn't understand: the issue was that he couldn't afford to think only about himself. Was it selfish on your behalf to think that way? Maybe. But you couldn't help it. You told yourself that it would've been different if you were just married, or just lovers. His decisions would've still been his. But now it's different. In less than six months he would've become a father. And that comes with responsibility. Wasn't he the first to tell you how important it was for you to put aside your job, for months or maybe even forever, just for the wellbeing of the creature inside you? That kid is yours just as much as he's his.
You and Bucky went out for a shopping trip that afternon. You would've asked Wanda, but she and Vision went to Clint's farm for a few days to see him and his family. Steve still had to be inside the tower, since he wasn't fully healed yet. You knew that he was watching a football game with Sam now, while Tony and Bruce were working on a new project, and Thor went to Asgard for a while to go check that Loki and Odin weren't at each other's throats.
You didn't mind Bucky's company at all. And in any case it wasn't like you felt like going out with Steve, not just yet. The brunette drove you both to the mall where he parked and then you went inside.
-So, what absolutely exciting and girly shops I have to visit today?- he asked while you curled your hand around his bicep. You laughed, looking up at him while you walked.
-Well, this mama is getting bigger every day, so I really can't wear my old clothes. I wouldn't even fit in them, and I can't go on with you guys' hoodies and t-shirts. I mean, I'm still a woman. Who said I can't look good while pregnant?- you responded, dragging him to a maternity clothes shop. As soon as you entered like half of the women in the shop turned to look at Bucky. You glanced at him and saw that he blushed and was looking everywhere except them. You bit you lip to not smile while you started to look around at the clothes. You made sure to engage in conversations with him to try and take the attention away.
-Damn homie, I think you just made those women regret their partners.- you said lowly so only he could hear you, and being a super enhanced supersolier, he did hear you very clearly. He snapped his head towards you with a look of disbelief on his face. His expression was so funny that you couldn't help but laugh. He looked around quickly then got closer to you.
-Stop it! It's already embarassing without you pointing it out.- he whined with a low voice. You stopped laughing but you couldn't help but smile, pressing your lips together.
-It's just so funny to me, because I understand these women. Turns out that pregnancy doesn't only make you sick, but also terribly horny.- you rose an eyebrow and he face palmed himself. You laughed again.
-Too much information, doll.- he groaned. You chuckled, putting in his hands a bunch of clothes. He caught them with both arms and followed you like a puppy to the changing rooms.
-Thank you kind sir, now I'm gonna see if they fit then I promise we're out of here.- you joked, hanging the clothes into the changing room. You closed the tent and he let himself fall delicately on one of the couches. He looked around while he waited but it turned out to be a bad idea when he saw the women from the various isles and even the shop's staff looking at him. He awkwardly smiled and then looked back at the closed changing room, sinking in his seat and covering the side of his face with a hand nonchalantly. He heard a few muffled giggles but no ne bothered him.
-Y/n are you done?- he asked, more embarassed than anything. Suddenly she pulled back the tent and started to gather a few of the garments in her hand. Bucky's gaze got caught on her figure. It was essentially the first time that she wore something fitting and not exaggerately large, so her belly was fully on display, even more so since she was turned to the side. The man felt a mix of emotions all at once and didn't quite catch the first time she called him.
-Buck, did you hear me?- he snapped out of it and stood to his feet, blinking a few times.
-It looks great.- he commented. You had on a nice flowery minidress, the sleeves were short and puffy, the square neckline showed just enough cleavage to remain classy, the breast area was tight but just below the skirt was soft and fell perfectly on your figure, showing the belly. You looked at him with a smile, chuckling slightly.
-Yeah, it fits well doesn't it? I'm getting these,- he gave a three dresses, two shirts, two t-shirts, two pairs of jeans and a pencil skirt to him, while she had other stuff in her own hands. -And I'm leaving these.- she sighed.
-Would you do me a favor? I'm dropping these off, meanwhile could you go to the pay desk? I'll be there in a sec.- he nodded and you thanked him while you walked away to the isles. Bucky walked towards the counter and dropped the garments on the desk, giving a quick smile to the girl behind it. He pulled out from the back pocket of his jeans the wallet and then the credit card, which was obviously Tony's, and put it on the glass above the counter. He waited a few seconds until the clerk, which was a nice girl with black hair and amber like eyes, spoke to him.
-So, how far are you guys?- she asked. Bucky almost choked on air at that phrase.
-Oh we- - he was about to say, but you arrived at his side and saved the situation. You smiled kindly at the girl and gave a pat on Bucky's arm.
-I'll be exactly of five months in a week, and he's more like the uncle than the father.- she tileted her head towards the brunette. The clerk smirked.
-Is he now?- she said rethorically. Then added, -That would be 277$. You're paying with cash or card?- Bucky gave her the Visa and she thanked him, finishing the payment. Y/n glanced at him with a knowing look and a slight smirk. He rolled his eyes and shook his head a little, she furrowed her brows as if to ask 'Why?' and he just mouthed 'No', so she didn't push. For now.
-Thank you for your purchase, congratulations and we hope to see you soon.- the girl said with courtesy, her gaze lingering a bit on the man, whom didn't return the look. You could see the slight disppointment of the girl.
-Thank you, have a nice day.- you saluted her and then headed out with Bucky. An hour had already passed and you still had in mind to buy a few things, but first you needed a break.
-I desperately want a piece of cake. What do you think?- you elbowed him delicately to catch his attention. He turned his head and nodded, still carrying the two bags. You arrived at the mall's cafe and ordered. He picked an iced coffe and you a slice of cheesecake and some tea, knowing that coffe wasn't that good for pregnancy. You took a seat at one of the tables outside, even tho you were still technically inside the mall.
-So, wanna tell me why you didn't accept the clear as the sun advances that the pretty shop assistant did?- you brought the fork to your mouth. He huffed and shrugged.
-Because I am not interested. I don't think I'm in the right mindspace to date right now.- he responded. You exhaled, tilting your head slightly to the side.
-Buck, I know that it didn't end up that smoothly with Nat, but she's gone.- she realized how that sounded like and quickly corrected herself, -I mean, not gone. But...gone, you know?- you cringed at your own words and he snorted.
-Very smooth y/n.- he joked, earning a glare from you.
-Shut up, I'm trying to help here. What I meant that while I understand that things with Nat didn't end up in the best of ways, she went away to give both of you the space you need to get back on your feet.- you paused, drinking a sip of tea, then offring the last bite of cake to him. He shook his head, giving you a lopsided smile.
-Don't worry, it's all yours.- you pointed your finger at him, while chewing the cheesecake. He chuckled.
-Right answer. Anyways, what I'm trying to say here, Buck, is that you have to allow yourself to try again. Because you deserve it. What do you tell me about that person you said you were interested in? I've never seen you with anyone in the last three months.- he looked to the side for a moment casually.
-They're taken so, yeah.- he simply answered, shrugging while taking a sip of coffe. You got sad all of a sudden. You eyebrows knotted in a sad expression and he noticed, giving you a small smile.
-Hey, don't do that. It's okay. I'm not like heartbroken or shit. I'm happy for her.- he assured you, -She.. well she has a family. She deserves it, so I'm happy for her.- he nodded, smiling softly. You smiled at him too, still with a hint of sadness. He took a nother sip of coffe an then raised an eyebrow, looking at you.
-Why are you crying?- he asked confused. You furruwed your brows in confusion and wiped your fingers under your eyes, realizing that a few tears had escaped. At that point without a reason, you started to feel worse and embarassed and a mess, so you sterted to actually sob a little. Bucky got up and moved his chair next to yours, hugging you.
-Hey what's wrong? I promise I'm alright.- he laughed to try and lighten the situation. You hiccupped into his chest.
-I- I know..it's just.. I don't know, these stupid hormones are making me act hysterical.- you had sittle sobs coming out every now and then. He kissed your head while he stroked your back.
-It's okay, you're not hysterical.- he chuckled softly making you smile. You pulled away from him looking in his eyes.
-I'm a mess aren't I?- Bucky wiped a little smudge of mascara under her eye, and then smiled at her lovingly.
-You look just fine, darling.- she hugged him, whispering a 'thank you, I love you' in his ear.
-I love you too- he answered.
After that, they finished their drink and Y/n told Bucky that she wanted to order a few things for the baby so they did just that. They went in a baby-stuff shop and she choose and placed some orders for a crib, a baby seat for both the car and the kitchen and the changing table. You didn't wanted to buy them right away, so you told the shop to bring them at the tower when they wanted.
When you exited the shop, it was already six thirty pm, so you decided to head back at the tower.
In the car, you told Bucky about your idea to get a midwife to help you during your pregnancy and especially when it'll be time to deliver the baby.
-I don't know y/n... I mean I think that you don't need a midwife or some other stranger to take care of you and the baby. You have Steve. You have me, and Sam, Wanda and the rest of the team. Bruce has basically become a doctor of everything, I'm sure that helping to deliver a child isn't that hard.- he shrugged while keeping his eyes on the road.
-I can't and wouldn't expect you all to babaysit me for another four months, Bucky. You have missions, classes, a you know, your own lives.- he glared at you, probably wanting to intervene and contraddict you, but he remained quiet in the end.
-And, you really can't expect Bruce to handle this. He's a fucking physician for God's sake. He's absolutely amazing, but a delivery? No, that would be too much even for him. And I would be kinda embarassed, for crying out loud.- you added with a high pitched voice. You absentmindely started to cradle your belly. He thought about it for a few seconds.
-I don't know y/n, you know how I am with strangers. But in any case it's your and Steve's decision. Please, talk to him. He's been miserable this week without you. He wouldn't shut up about how he was sorry, and stupid and in love with you and that he misses your smile, your belly and I don't know, I stopped listening after a while.- he said exasperatedly. You suppressed a smile.
-Really? - you asked sheepishly. He turned his head to look at you for a second before smiling knowingly.
-You know it's true. Your fucking married, for God's sake.- he said, tired of you two being idiots. He could just imagine how it'll be when you'll become parents. You will be great at it, but also a mess at the same time.
-Hey, Whiny Soldier, how was shopping? - Sam shouted when he saw the two of you coming in the room with your hands full of bags. You didn't see him, but you just knew that he pursed his lips and shook his head.
-
You came back at the tower just in time for dinner. Vision and Wanda had aprons tied on their chests, while the others were just chilling in the common room. Steve was there too, beside Bruce.
-Shopping was productive, thank you very much.- you answered pointing for Bucky to put down the bags.
-Let me help you take these to your room.- he offered, but you gave him a look and he understood immediately, putting them down. You smiled and kissed his cheek.
-Thank you for being my human cart today.- his jaw dropped, pretending to be offended.
-Oooh- Sam howled and the others laughed. Steve smiled slightly, still mortified by your little 'cold shoulder week'  thing.
-You're lucky I can't tickle you to death right now.- he pointed his finger at you before walking to the fridge to pour himself a glass of water.
-Yeah, yeah, like you say big guy.- you teased him. You paused, shifting your gaze to Steve. He was wearing a blue hoodie and gray sweatpants, his dirty blonde hair were starting to get a bit long at the sides and a few strands fell on his forehead, while his jaw was covered with a slight scruff. His puppy dog eyes met yours and you couln't help but melt a little.
-Steve, are you well enough to help me with these?- you asked and even before you could finish he was on his feet. He almost tripped from how fast he tried to reach you.
-Yes I'm perfectly well I mean I'd love to help you. I mean obv- - you raised an eyebrow and he stopped, looking down. The whole team was watching in silence like it was a damn movie.
-I'm rambling, I'm sorry.- he said lowly. You sighed and places three of the four bags in his hands.
-C'mon. And you all, get a life.- you called them out while you two walked to the elevator. A few minutes later, after the short, silent, trip, you arrived to your room. He placed the bags on the bed and you did the same after closing the door behind you.
-Help me take off the price tags.- you invited him. He grabbed the bag, taking out the first garment. It was a white baby onesie, with Captain America's shield logo on it in white, blue, and red. His breath got caught in his throat and he suddenly let out a sob.
You snapped your head up in confusion, your features softening when you saw him. He sat on the bed, head down, onesie still in his hand. You put down the dress you had in your hands and went to sit next to him, since it would've been really uncomfortable for you to bend on your legs now. You hand went istinctively to rub his back.
-Can we talk?- he asks with broken voice. You tilt your head to the side to look at him with the shadow of a smile on your face.
-Only if you stop crying. Or else none of us will be able to talk at all.- he chuckles slightly making you smile lovingly. He wraps his big arms around you, nuzzling his face in your neck, your collarbones exposed due to the large shirt you were wearing. The wave of relief that washed over you in that moment was hard to describe.
-I missed you so much, baby. I couldn't stand the thought of you being mad at me. I'm sorry for being so impulsive.- he sniffed while he talked. You nodded, cupping his face gently. Steve melted into your touch.
-I know you are. And I'm sorry too. I know that I've been harsh with you these past days, it's just...- he waited patiently, -You're not responsable for only yourself anymore. I understand, please trust me, I understand what you wanted to do and also that you feel like it's your duty to do that. And it kinda is, but my point is- you shook your head realizing that you weren't really explaining yourself.
-What I mean is that you cannot put your life behind other's. Not for me, not even for the team. We're grown ass adults okay? Fow how much you can love us and we can love you, we are our own person. But this- you placed his hand on your belly, -This had been a choice. Your, mine. We both are responsable for this life. The same way I gave up my job, and the lessons. Now, I'm not asking you to stop going on missions, but I'd like you to be with me as much as possible. And that when you go, you'll be careful. Please, Steve.- you say softly, almost in the verge of tears. Again. You've cried more in five months than in your whole life probably.
-You're right. It was pretty hypocritical of me to get mad at you for the same reason in the first place.- he shook his head in disappointment. You rolled your eyes, adding -Work. I think we'll have to rearrange ourselves in this department.- you smiled and he laughed, agreeing.
-So, are we gonna get these off the bed and use the space in a better way or what?- your lips curled in a seductive smirk that quite shocked him. He recovered quickly, jumping on his feet and placing the bags on the ground in a split second. You threw you head back laughing at his eagerness, but you honestly couldn't blame him. Your hormones were a mess and your horniness at level 100, but you often were either sick, tired, hungry or he was. And not to mention the missions that separated you. So let's say that since you got pregnant the sex decreased noticeably, which was something that you wanted to fix. You phisically missed and needed him.
He returned to you and crashed his lips to yours, and soon enough you were a mess of tongues and lip bites and sucks that got interrupeted just briefly to get your clothes off. He didn't have anything under his hoodie, and you happily noticed that he was completely healed and that his weeks in the tower were due to the lack of new missions. You sincerely hoped it would last. After his hoodie, his pants and boxers were next. With you the situation was a bit more complex: first the light material shirt you had on had to be unbuttoned, then your tank top, the jeans' belt and the pants themselves. When you were left in just your underwear, a plain set of cotton white bra and panties, Steve stopped to look at your body.
He was in awe of you. He rose his hand and started a caress that began on your cheek, his thumb on your bottom lip, then descended to your now fuller breasts, to the curve of your waist to to your baby bump. At that point he bent down on his knees and kissed it softly.
-Hey little one, if you want to take a nap, now it would be a good time.- he whispered directly to the stretched skin. You let out a sound that was halfway between of a whine and a laugh.
-Steve, Jesus Christ.- you covered your face with your hands. You heard him laugh and stand on his feet again. He removed your hands gently, kissing you again with slow, agonizing passion that even let escape a ridiculous whine from your lips at the loss.
-Where were we?- he reached behind your back and unclasped the bra, sliding it off your shoulders and freeing your breasts.
-Mrs and Mr. Rogers I'm sorry to disturb, miss Maximoff would like me to inform you that dinner's ready.- you stopped hearing F.R.I.D.A.Y.'s voice. You groaned, annoyed at the interruption, but Steve suddenly started to push you on the bed and to lick and suck your boobs.
-Tell miss Maximoff that we have dinner here.- he responded biting softly your nipple, making you whimper.
-It will be done, mr Rogers.-
-Geez Steve, couldn't you be more specific?- you sassed with a deep breath, distracted by your husband's mouth. He snorted moving further down to remove your panties.
-You're already pregnant, couldn't be more obvious than that.- you started to laugh, but it soon became a loud moan when you felt his tongue licking a long stripe on your pussy. You closed your eyes and istinctively wanted to bring your hand in his hair, but you found an obstacle. A medium big, round and naked obstacle. You huffed and Steve stopped, tilting his head to the side, since now you couldn't even see him from between your legs.
-Are you okay?- he asked, worry in his voice. You sat on the bed, helping yourself with your hands. He returned beside you, waiting.
-It's just..ugh I'm so awkward and big and not confident if I have to be honest.- you say for the first time out loud. You wanted to cover yourself by curling your knees to you chest, but again, you swollen stomach didn't allow it. At that point you got even more frustrated.
-Damn it.- Steve places his fingers under your chin and made you look at him. His eyes were serious but not mad.
-Hey, none of that. Do you even realize the miracle your beautiful body is doing? You're creating a whole life in there, baby.- he smiled brightly looking in your eyes, -And by the way, you're still hot as fuck.- that made you laugh. He kept smiling while he made you lay down again on the sheets.
-This beautiful face..these cheeks are even sweeter now.- he peppered them with kisses making you giggle uncontrollably.
-Don't get me started on these ones...- his hands cupped your breasts while his mouth attacked your nipples and the soft skin. You moaned softly, your hand immediately in his short hair, your nails delicately scratching his scalp.
-But you know my most favorite thing?- he kept going, -This.- he was now between your legs, kneeled in front of your stomach. He caressed it and kissed it a few times. Then his gaze  locked in yours again. You almost felt hypnotized, both by his velvety voice and his touch.
-I love it because it's round and soft and most importantly because it's giving me a family. A baby. And you know who's giving me all of this? You are. So don't ever be insecure about this wonderful body, please.- you smiled at him softly. Soon enough the mood changed again when he spoke his next words.
-Now, are you gonna let me thank this stunning body like it deserves or not?- you felt the smirk in his voice, his blue eyes hungry. You mirrored his expression propping yourself up on your elbows.
-Would like to see it.- you answer. He huffs out a laugh and reprises what he started doing a few minutes prior. He took good care of you until you came on his tongue, and at that point you grabbed him to crash your lips together. You kept moving and bringing him with you, until he found himself laying down on his back and you straddling his hips. Steve's hands immediately went to your sides, trying to not move and let you do the work, even though all he wanted was to fuck you until you both could't anymore.
You kept you eyes on his while you stroked him a few times before slowly sinking on him. He squeezed both his eyes shut and your hips, huffing a long breath. That could've almost made you laugh if you weren't just as wrecked. Your hips started moving, back and forth, to the sides in painfully slow circular motions. At one point he grabbed your ass, sitting up and making you gasp.
-Doll I'm kinda struggling here- he breathed out kissing your neck while you kept moving. -I want to be delicate but damn.- he nipped at your sweet spot between your neck and shoulder. Your hips started going faster with the help of his hands guiding you and soon enough you were panting and kissing each other passionately and messily.
-Oh, Steve I'm almost there- you moan hugging his head to your chest. He moaned too, reaching in front of you with his hand to circle your clit.
-I'm right behind you baby.- he reassured you while in reality he was trying hard not to come in that exact moment. He craved you more than usual, not only beacause your body was actually so fucking hot to him but also because he hasn't touched you for almost two whole weeks.
Just a few seconds later you gripped his shoulders, hiding your face in his neck. His breath got caught in his troath at the way you clenched around him when you came. And as a cue, he followed you short after, coming inside you. You stayed like that, hugging and cuddling for some minutes, then he kissed you and moved you gently on his side, hissing slightly when you lost contact.
-Be right back.- he said going to the bathroom and returning with a wet wash cloth. He cleaned you up from both of your releases and then went back to throw the dirty fabric in the laundry basket. You looked at him with a lopsided smile, still hazy and quite tired from the recent activity. He mirrored your expression with messy hair, crawling in the bed to you and pulling you on his side after.
-I needed that.- you say. He sighed, -I definetly did too. How come we always end up having sex after we argue or talk?- he asked casually. You shrugged.
-I don't know, the important thing is that the talk comes first and then, the sex.- he agreed with a nod. You chewed on you lip a bit before speaking again.
-Honey- you called, he hummed.
-While you were away last week I started to think about how I will probably need more help in the future, you know. And the fact that you and the others are often away on missions. And I mean it's totally alright, that's work but... I felt so bad when Sam and Wanda were left behind last time. And just to 'babysit' me.- he looked down at you with a frown.
-They offered to stay behind because they wanted to. We're taking turns on missions all the time.- he responded. You barely noticed that he had started to caress your belly.
-That's not the point, you know it. The last mission was quite big. I know my work well enough to know that Fury would've sent all the team, if I weren't left behind. Also by now we both understood that this baby isn't a normal baby and that is why I'm so sick so often. Bruce can't be here all the time, and for how good and skilled he his, he's not an expert in the baby field.- he was listening to you intently, but he wasn't quite sure with where you wanted to go with this.
-What's the point?- he asked, moving a strand of your hair from your face with his fingers.
-The point is,  that I've read a lot in these months, and I think that we should hire a midwife. It would be someone that stays with me most of the day and helps me. An actual expert.-
-And how would you explain that our child has the blood of two super soldiers?- his hand motioned himself and you. You got up, towards the bathroom.
-Steve, we share the house with a god, a giant green monster, enhanced people, a witch, a kid that has the powers of a spider and an intelligent robot. I think it wouldn't be a great surprise.- you closed the door, peed and then refreshed yourself before going back to take some clean clothes. You saw that he was waiting for you to get out, probably wanting to shower.
-Okay then, I guess we can arrange that, if that will make you feel better.- he finally spoke. You kissed his cheek, already in your underwear.
-Thank you. You're showering?- he nods, the raises an eyebrow.
-Wanna join?- you laugh and shake your head.
-No, baby not now. I get tired quite easily and if the bed's already a bit difficult to work with, the shower must be a nightmare.- he pouted.
-You're right.-
-But- he stops the door before it closes, waiting for you to continue. -I want to fix your hair and your beard if you let me.- a lopsided smile opens on his face.
-Be my guest.-
-
After you sat him down on the edge of the bathtub, you shortened the longer strands on top with tiny scissors. After that you picked up the electric razor and groomed the sides, shortneing them but not removing them completely. You did the same with the beard, leaving a short, barely visible scruff. About twenty minutes later you were done. You put down the razor and took a step back to look at your work.
-Perfect.- you commented, brushing the hair that fell on his chest and shoulders. He stood up and looked at himself in the mirror, smiling.
-Is there anything you can't do?- he asked. You smirked, kissing him before starting to clean up.
-No, I'm a woman.-
*************
Tag list: @polarcrystall​    @a--1--1--3​    @silver-winter-wolf​   @jessyballet​
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windless-hurricane · 5 years ago
Text
She's the One
Chapter 2: Your Name
A Billy x Reader x Steve Fanfic
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SUMMARY: You're One, one of the many kids experimented on in Hawkins lab. Eleven's sister. You were found and now you're here to stay.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: This took a lot longer to write than I anticipated, but here it is! I'd also like to apologize to anyone who sent me an ask. I accidentally responded and now I can't find y'all. If you're still interested, just let me know in the comments. Thank you.
WARNINGS: Language, violence, and scenes involving blood and/or death.
WORD COUNT: 2.8k
TAGLIST: @cherrym4rk @torntaltos @bun-dpdbny @5sosxgrethan @acidrain707 @evelynfreakinaddams @qtmeryr @kayln97 @uwu-bucky @book--butterfly @laurmillen @art-flirt @thecornerstoreoftheuniverse
LAST CHAPTER
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“What can you do?”
“How old are you?”
“Are you Eleven’s sister?”
“Just how strong are you?”
“Can you show us?”
The kids continued to throw question after question at you, expecting them to be answered, but leaving you with no time to answer them. You just stared at them with wide eyes until Hopper cut them off with a harsh tone.
“I’ll be asking the questions here.” And silence befell on them once again. Wow, you thought. He really had a talent for getting people to shut up.
You looked to him and he reeked of frustration and worry. However, when he spoke, there was an ounce of sympathy in his voice. “Why were you in that chamber?” You knew he was going to ask that. It was obvious enough, but it still made you cringe with discomfort. You didn’t want to talk about that chamber, because for you, that thing was a personal hell you thought you would never escape from. It was frightening and you never wanted to go back. However, answers were something that they deserved. Not only would it have helped them through this crisis, it would also give them some trust in you.
So, you cleared your throat and began to speak, slowly but carefully. “Well...since you know Eleven...you must already know...what the lab did…to her...to us.” He nodded. “I was the first one...they did it to… They always said that…they got lucky with me. That I was their best experiment and...would lay the groundwork for the others after me. That's why...all the kids who did survive the experiments, got one or two of my abilities.”
“And what exactly are your abilities,” Dustin asked with a grin, but Hopper wasn’t amused. He shot Dustin a death glare, but he didn't seem to notice it.
“I-I can move things...with my mind,” you revealed. “And make people see what I want them to see… I can read minds too and...tell what people are feeling.”
“Can you control people?”
“No. I haven't been able to that...not yet at least.” You caught a glimpse of Hopper's annoyed expression and gulped nervously. “Anyway... The reason I was in that chamber in the first place is because...I helped the other kids escape. Three, Seven, and Eight.”
“You mean there's other kids out there right now,” he asked.
“Well, not ‘here’ here, but...around. That day...I wasn't able to get Eleven out, but luckily...she was able to get out on her own.”
“While I was in there though, I could hear things - voices. At first, I-I didn't know who they belonged to, but I slowly started to realize what was going on. The first voice I heard was from that woman, Joyce...and she was talking...about him.” You pointed to Will who was asleep on the couch with a blanket over him. “He went missing and you found him, but now...something's wrong with him.”
“You know what's wrong?”
You nodded, while never breaking eye contact with him. “I know everything...because...I heard everything. I know all of you too. I recognize you from your voices.”
At that, everyone glanced between each other in astonishment. You, you were someone that they just met, someone who had just entered the picture without warning. Yet, you seemed to know more about what was going on than they did. Hell, you even knew all of them without a proper introduction. So if that didn’t show a fraction of what you were capable of, then they didn’t know what could. You were someone worth the bargain. Even so, Hopper felt compelled to ask one last thing.
“How long were you in there?”
You shrugged, “5 years, give or take.”
“Shit,” one of the kids breathed out and you could make it out as Lucas. Hopper sighed deeply and you could tell it was from a mixture of sympathy and desperation.
“I'm sorry to ask this of you, but...we need your help.”
“And I'll give it,” you blurted out without hesitation. “I was going to give it regardless.” You said more quietly as you looked over to Will. “There’s a darkness in Hawkins that we need to stop...and it starts with him.”
__________________________________________
“Okay, so if this thing is like a brain that’s controlling everything, then if we kill it...we kill everything that it controls.” You nodded as you continued to stare at the page from Dustin’s D&D manual. Mike’s deduction made sense, but the same question still stood. How do you-
“How do you kill this thing? Shoot it with fireballs or something?”
You jumped in surprise as Hopper snatched the manual away, trying to find the answer for himself. Dustin eventually spoke up, but it was less than confident.
“Well, uh, you summon an undead army, um, because-because zombies, you know, they don’t have brains.” He began to stumble over his own words. “And the mind flayer, it-it… It likes brains. It’s just a game. It’s a game,” he finally confessed.
“What the hell are we doing here,” Hopper groaned. Things weren’t looking good and that became more evident as Hopper and Dustin started to argue.
“I thought we were waiting for your military backup.”
“We are!”
“How are they gonna stop this? You can't just shoot this with guns.”
“You don't know that! We don't know anything!”
“We know it's already killed everybody in that lab. We know the monsters are gonna molt again. We know that it's only a matter of time before those tunnels reach this town.”
“They’re right,” a voice interrupted. Joyce. “We have to kill it.”
Your face softened as you turned to face her. She was being overwhelmed by grief, sadness, and anger, but who could blame her obviously. She lost someone she loved.
“I want to kill it,” she declared.
“Me too, Joyce. Me too.” Hopper was doing his best to calm her; but deep down, he couldn’t even do that for himself. “But how do we do that?” And it hit you.
“Will knows.” Everyone stopped and turned to you. “Will knows how to kill it, because he’s connected to it. He already knows everything about it and that includes its weaknesses.”
“I thought we couldn’t trust him anymore - that he’s a spy for the mind flayer now,” Max reminded, causing Mike to shake his head.
“Yeah, but he can't spy if he doesn't know where he is.”
“Exactly,” you confirmed. “This will work.”
__________________________________________
You all decided that the shed in the backyard would be the best place for Will’s interrogation. It was small, making it perfect to disguise in a short amount of time. So, you all went outside to find materials that could help in your endeavor.
You were encouraged to not use your powers until the real threat came and while that wasn't a terrible idea, you also hadn’t used your powers in five years. You were rusty and needed as much practice as you could get. So, whenever the kids came upon an object that was either too heavy to carry or too high on a shelf to reach, you helped them. It was enough for now.
You let out a small sigh as you wiped the blood dripping from your nose. “You okay,” you heard someone ask and you turned to find Hopper. You nodded.
“Ye-yeah, I’m okay. Thank you.” You moved to go back into the house since most of the preparations were finished already, but stopped once he spoke again.
“I’m sorry again that all of this was so sudden and that...we weren’t able to save you under more normal circumstances.”
“Oh… That-that’s okay,” you told him. “I’m just glad that...that you got me out...and honestly, this couldn’t have been a more perfect time. You need my help to stop this thing. So… I guess what I’m really trying to say is...thank you. Thank you for saving me.” You managed a small smile as you looked up at him and he simply nodded in response. However, the tiniest of smiles reached his lips as well.
“I know you said you already know me, but I think...you at least deserve something more proper than this,” he reached his hand out. “Jim Hopper.”
You gazed down at his hand for a bit before taking it like you thought you were supposed to. You tried to match his grip as you smiled wider, “One.”
__________________________________________
You sat in the kitchen, hugging your knees to your chest. It was the first time you were left alone since being freed and now, you couldn’t ignore all the emotions floating around you. Anger, fear, regret, guilt, sadness, pain. To make it worse, you could hear every sad thing being said in the shed. It didn’t matter if you weren’t there. You could still hear everything like you always did.
Do you know what March 22nd is? It's your birthday. Your birthday.
Do you remember the day Dad left? We stayed up all night building Castle Byers… just the way you drew it.
I just felt so alone and scared, but… I saw you alone on the swings and you were alone too.
Tears ran down your cheeks and you couldn’t tell if they were for them, yourself and the life you could’ve had, or both. It was all becoming too much to bear and you couldn’t help the tears that kept falling and the sniffles that started to leave you. It wasn’t until you heard someone walk in that you tried to contain yourself. You tried to get rid of the tears with the sleeves of your shirt, but it seems like you didn’t try hard enough.
“Hey… Hey, are you crying?” And you froze. No one had ever spoken to you like that before. No one had ever used a voice that was so genuine and calming that it was enough to make your tears stop. That voice provided instant relief and you didn’t know why. You looked up to the owner of that voice and it was none other than Steve with a face of worry plastered on him.
You gazed into his eyes for a bit before answering. They were brown, just like most of the world’s, yet they still managed to be different. They still managed to be incredibly warm and beautiful. It was quite soothing. You gulped softly before averting your gaze.
“No,” you uttered, but of course he wasn’t convinced.
“Then, what’s all this,” he asked, gesturing toward your glossy eyes and red nose.
“Um, I- It just comes with the power.” You smiled softly in an attempt to make him believe you.
“Oh, so a bad case of allergies comes with your powers?” You looked at him in astonishment before bursting out in laughter, something you didn’t even know you were capable of.
“What? No.”
“Well, that’s what you said,” he began to laugh as well as he grinned a smile that could’ve made your heart stop.
“That’s not what I meant,” you tried to explain. “It’s just that...with my power...I can feel the emotions of everyone around me, but it’s not something I can really turn off. So sometimes... it can be very overwhelming...like right now.”
“Yeah, it really isn’t the best time, huh?” You shook your head, causing him to hum in response. “What if you just focused on one person?” Your eyes widened.
“Huh?”
“What do you feel when you feel me?” His eyes widened too. “Wait, that sounds weird.” You let out a small chuckle as he started to panic. “I mean, what do you feel when...um-what do you feel when you see me?”
You tilted your head to the side as you felt him. Not physically, but just through the way you gazed at him.
“Worry and...nervousness,” you confirmed. “You’re a lot more tame than everyone else here.”
“Well, that’s a good thing, isn’t it?”
“Yeah, it is,” you chuckled, and you didn’t notice the way his eyes scanned over your features or the way he smirked after.
“So, your name’s One, huh? Like the number?” You furrowed your eyebrows.
“Yes.”
“But it’s not your actual name.” You shook your head, only confirming his thoughts.
“No. I don’t remember what my actual name was. One was just the name they gave me. We were never...people to them. We were just numbers...experiments.”
“That’s really messed up. I’m sorry.” You shook your head again.
“It-it’s okay.” However, he could still tell from you expression that it wasn’t.
“How about...we give you a new name? A real name?”
For some reason, your heart flutter at his suggestion and a warmth flushed your cheeks.
“Um, I think-I think I’d like that,” you told him and his eyes gleamed.
“Ok, names names. What do you look like?” He brought his hand to his chin and pondered for a bit. “How about… Stacy?” You grimaced without meaning to and he took that as a no. “Alright... Oh! Heather.” You shook your head. “Really?”
“Really,” you responded.
“Ok, ok. How about… Let me think. (Y/N). That’s a nice name.”
(Y/N). It was simple and different all at once, and the way it rolled it off his tongue made you like it even more.
“I think that’s it,” you smirked and he mimicked you right away.
“Well, (Y/N). I’m Steve Harrington.” He stuck his hand out and you took it gently. His hand was a lot bigger than yours in comparison, but a lot softer. It was warm and careful, like he was afraid he would crush your hand if he squeezed a bit too tightly. It was sweet.
“Well, Steve Harrington. I’m…(Y/N).”
“Nice to meet you.” You both giggled softly until you were cut off by Mike yelling ‘We got something!’
“Duty calls,” Steve sighed and you nodded, letting go of his hand reluctantly.
Although the moment was short, you appreciated Steve going out of his way to make you feel better. He comforted you and even made you laugh. It was like for a moment, you weren’t in this situation. For a moment, it felt like it was just the two of you - living and living happily.
_________________________________ 
While you and Steve were talking, the group in the shed was able to bring Will back. Not fully, but partly. It turned out that the recollection of his memories was helping him gain some control within his body. It wasn’t much, but it was enough. He tapped his fingers until he spelt ‘Here’ and with every memory someone spouted, a new letter came after. Eventually, you all got the answer that you had been hoping for.
“Close the gate,” you all read aloud in unison. Before you could even process that however, the phone started ringing and a nauseating pain was sent to the pit of your stomach.
The feeling only worsened when Nancy yanked the phone out of the wall. You already knew it was too late.
“They know where we are,” you stated and the monsters screeching in the distance only proved that.
“That’s not good,” Hopper muttered. “Come on. We gotta go.” He motioned for everyone to follow him, but there was nowhere to go. It was too dangerous to leave. It was too dangerous to even think about leaving. You could already feel those things nearby. 
You shook your furiously, “No, no. Get away from the windows!” Everyone was stunned by the volume of your voice, but seeing as you were the only strong enough to handle these things, no one complained. They easily compiled and started huddling up in the living room, preparing themselves for attack. You subconsciously put your arm in front of Steve and the other out in front of you. The growling steadily grew closer and closer and the closer it got, the more you tensed up. You weren't strong enough yet and you knew it, but that wasn't an excuse. You still had to protect them. You would protect them. 
So you waited, waited for something to come crashing through the door... But it never came. Instead, the growling was replaced by thrashing and you instantly knew who it was. 
Something came crashing through the window and everyone pointed their weapons at it. You glanced over and it was one of the monsters, freshly dead. Everyone else was alarmed but you. 
“It's okay,” you whispered, but they were more confused than reassured. The lock to the door slowly started to turn and everyone aimed their weapons at it.
With a small click, the door unlocked and creaked open. Once they set foot into the house, you smiled softly. 
“Eleven.”
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virgofabreakdown · 6 years ago
Text
Chapter One - Double Lives AU
Prologue | Next Chapter
One Year Later
Patton's POV
Blackberry Cafe 2:30 PM
"Virgil, where are the rest of the cookies from this batch?"
"What do you mean?" Virgil shouted from the bathroom. "That's all of the ones from that batch."
"What do you mean that's all the cookies from that batch?! The recipe makes over 30 cookies, but there's only 2!"
"I just sampled some of the cookie dough!"
"Some?"
"Most of the cookie dough..."
"For the love, Virgil. Why?" Ding! The bell at the front of the store rang across the store.
"Hello, welcome to Blackberry Cafe. Can I help you - oh, hi Roman!"
"Hey Pat, can I get the usual?"
Virgil came out of the back, "depends, are you gonna pay this time?"
"Probably not," he admits. I package up two cookies and three scones and hand them to him.
"Two chocolate chip cookies and three rosemary ham and cheese scones, on the house!"
"Patton, no," Virgil sighs. "I was trying to get him to pay for once. He can't just always get free food."
"That's just the perks of having an little brother who owns a cafe," Roman states with a wink.
"Plus, if I didn't give it to him, he probably wouldn't eat until dinner."
"Well maybe that would teach him to pack a lunch," Virgil reasoned. "Or better yet, actually pay."
"But he's hungry..." I pout at him for a minute before Roman cleared his throat.
"So, guys, me and Logan are going on a date tonight, if you guys are interested in joining us...?" Virgil looks at me. "It's up to you guys, of course, you don't have to, if you don't want to."
He trailed off, looking at the two of us. I shrugged, "I have work off tonight, so it shouldn't be a problem for me. What do you think Virg?"
"I don't think I have work. Sure, why not," Virgil looked at me with a smile. "We could use a date night anyway."
Roman gave us a big smile. "So, we've got a reservation for nine, so let's plan to meet up at my place around...eight, eight thirty?"
"Wait, you were planning on us coming?" Virgil sighed in frustration over the fact that his brother made the reservation without knowing if they could come. "Let's do eight, just to be on the safe side."
"Awesome," Roman said, walking towards the door. "See you later, then?"
"See you later!" I shout, waving to him.
"I can't believe he didn't ask us first! What if we couldn't have made it?"
"Then they would have a slightly bigger table," I say. Virgil looked very worked up. "It's fine."
"Yeah, but still."
"Now," I say, placing a hand on my hip. "Mind sharing why exactly you ate almost an entire batch of cookie dough?"
Time Skip
The Black-Berry Residence 7:30 PM
"Hey Virg? What do you think of this tie?" I shout across the apartment.
"I don't know, it would be a lot easier to tell if you weren't on the other side of the house." He sounded stressed.
I walk out of our bedroom into the living room and do a little twirl. "How do I look?"
Virgil seemed to be at a lack for words. "You look great," Virgil admitted. I wasn't wearing much, just some slacks and a loose blouse. I added a small blue bow to match my shirt. It was slightly fancier than my usual attire, but Virgil seemed to like it. We stared at each other for a moment. Nothing was said, but a comfortable silence filled the air. And then my phone rang. It pierced through the air with a certain, yet annoying ring.
I sighed, "one second." I picked up the phone.
"Hello?"
"Hey, we need you to come in." I walked back into bedroom.
"I'm sorry, what?!"
"Look, I'm sorry, sir, but we need you to come in."
"No way, it's date night!" I protest. "I've got plans. Call someone else in."
"It is imperative that you come in to work," the man on the other end insisted.
"What could be so important that you need me too come in on my one day off," I demanded. "I mean, honestly, it's bad enough that -"
"Dracowitch. We have a lead on Dracowitch."
"Draco -" I shout, before lowering my voice. "Dracowitch? But how? He's been off the radar for months now."
"Which is why you need to come in. You are the best man we have."
I sighed, "fine. You better be paying overtime for this."
"Once the job is done, we will. But you must get here as soon as possible."
"I'll be there."
"Good. Farewell, and may you be fruitful."
"As to help the company grow," I say, finishing our company motto, before hanging up. Walking back into the living room, "so bad news," I look at Virgil, who had just hung up a from his own phone call. "Oh, who was that?"
"What, oh, I was just on the phone with Roman. So, what were you saying?"
"Oh, yeah. Unfortunately, I just got called into work. They need someone at the shelter for a few hours. Something about someone being delayed at the airport...? I don't know. All I know, is that I have to go to work because no one else answered the call." I felt bad lying to Virg, but I couldn't just tell him the truth. Honestly, I wanted to tell him the truth, I really did, but it was against the rules and could put him in danger. If something were to happen to him because of me, I couldn't live with the guilt.
"Oh, that sucks," he says. "Honestly, I want looking forward to sitting in a fancy restaurant and paying 50 bucks for spaghetti, anyway."
He was trying to make me feel better about the whole situation, bless his heart. This is why I love him, he was willing to do anything to make me happy and that, I lived for. Virgil restores my faith in humanity, no matter what happens, he finds a way to cheer me up.
"Are you sure?"
"Yeah, it's fine. I'll call Roman back and explain. You go to work."
"Okay. Thank you." I head back into the bedroom for the third time that night to get changed. I get changed and grab my bag. "I love you," I say giving him a quick kiss.
"Love you, too. Now, go take care of those dogs like no one had taken care of them before!"
I giggle. "Be back in a few hours!" I say before closing the door.
Virgil's POV
Patton closed the door. I look out the window, watching for his car to leave. A blue Prius passes by the window. Correction, Patton's blue Prius passes by the window. I watch as it rounds the corner. Poor Patton. I knew he was looking forward to this. We hardly get to go on dates anymore.
I feel my phone vibrate in my pocket. Someone was calling me. Again. The first time was Roman and now it was, I look at the caller ID, work. Of course, work always picks the worst times to call. I hesitate for a moment, before picking up.
"Hello?"
"Hey, you need come here, like right now," the person on the other line spoke quickly and sharply, while also sounding rather rushed.
"What? Why?"
"We got a lead on Dracowitch and they put Morality on it. You're his backup, so you need to get here."
"Are they sure it's Dracowitch?"
"Yep. And this is the only good lead we've had in weeks, if not months."
"Alright, I'll be there in about half an hour."
"I said now."
"That's the soonest I cam be there," I insist.
"You live approximately eight minutes away, therefore you will be here in ten minutes. This is more than enough time."
"Fine, I'll be there in a few."
"Be there in five. Farewell and help guide the path."
"To lead the company to greatness."
And with that, I grabbed the keys to my car, a dark blue Honda, and ran out the door. I hopped down the flight of stairs at the front door and popped the trunk. Taking out an extra shirt, I close the trunk and climb in the car.
I hate my job, I really do. If I had the choice to just stay home, I would, but the bakery doesn't bring in enough money. So, I work for the 'print shop' and Patton has been helping by working at the local animal shelter.
My real job most definitely pays well, but it's not something that I would openly tell people about. Even if it wouldn't result in me getting fired. I am...a hacker, in a way. The term that the company hired us under is 'Personal Guide'. Which was true, we do guide people, just not the disabled and elderly. Think more along the lines of hitmen and assassins.
Our job is simple. Aide our assigned partner through their missions by briefing them on the mission, hacking into the security of buildings, giving them directions, and letting them know if anyone was up ahead. Typical hacker things. Oh, and keeping track of their location, incase they need backup. Typically, your partner will need backup occasionally, four to five months is the company average. But I've never had to call backup. Maybe it's luck, but I'm almost certain it's not.
I believe it's my partner, rather than luck. He is literally the best assassin this company has. When they paired us up, everyone was curious as to why. Based on all the rumors flying around, this guy was a legend. No one truly understood why he had been paired with a newbie with no prior experience in anything related to computers or the company.
Until they saw us work together. We just clicked. I would have locked doors slide open as he approached them, as he responded with the witty pun that made me groan. In the middle of missions, we shared our stories about life outside of the company. We'd swap jokes and recipes, recommend restaurants for the other to try, we literally would just talk about anything. Morality, as he was called, was the only thing that made this horrible job worthwhile.
Our current target was an online personality by the name of Dracowitch. It seemed to be a German, or possibly Russian name, seeing as it was pronounced Draco-vitch. They've been untraceable, up until now.
I pull up to the print shop. Even though the store was a small local business, it seemed to be bustling with life. The lights were on and about half a dozen people were running around doing various things.
Taking a deep breath in, I walk inside and straight to the counter, where a man sat, attempting to hide the fact that he was watching cartoons with a book. I cleared my throat, before simply giving him a "hey."
"Ah, Mr. Black-Berry. I don't believe you have work tonight," the man said, pausing his show and closing his book.
"Got called in."
"I see, your husband must be mad."
"Doesn't know, he got called in too, so I left after he did."
"Be careful with that. Do it one too many times, you'll get accused of cheating. I did that once and she signed us up for therapy."
"Oh, how is the Mrs.?"
"She's fine. Been a bit better since therapy."
"That's good. Well, have a good night, Larry. Say hi to Dot for me!"
"Will do!" And with that he pressed a button under his desk. The door behind him slid open, revealing an elevator to the basement.
End of Chapter One.
@vaugleysassygrunt
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evilcatgirlwizard · 5 years ago
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damn... i thought the mention of michael would work /j
anyway i do think ill go into more depth actually .
Daisy - Jon
Daisy only joined up with the Magnus Institute because she lived right across from the old, creepy-ass building and it had a "Help Wanted" sign up after one of (??? whoever subs in for Gertrude. I ironically wanna say Gerry.)'s final assistants goes missing. She ONLY joins because Basira was already there helping with the library. Once (whoever subs in for Elias. whos old and shitty. Ah. Leitner.) spots Daisy, almost 6'4" and bulkier than three of ANYONE else who works there, Leitner decides Yep, That's The Archivist. That, and she's easy to manipulate bc shes down on her luck, and she already knows about freaky shit. And Basira is there. That's... Yeah that's a good bonus.
Jon is a cop marked by the Slaughter. Same shit! John tries his best to only gunmurder the awful folk, but he has a short fuckin' temper and literally no one but Martin, his platonic partner (at this point) knows how to calm him down. He's bitter that his English degree meant nothing. He met Michael in college, and they dated for a while until a lil bit after graduation, where Jon dumped him literally seconds after a Slaughter avatar did some freaky shit in front of them.
Martin - Basira
Basira's just vibing. She's having a good time ngl? She's a fierce librarian and is just kinda here to chill. She brings coffee to the office every morning so people like her. She's, occasionally TOO chill. Not that she'll be pushed around, but she's painfully aloof. It's the trauma.
Martin's also kinda just vibing? His mom's an ex-cop so he just joined up to make HER. happy. He joined up just a year out of highschool, and only bc of his mom. She pulled some Strings. He's used to dealing with Jon's shit and is his braincell. Met Michael and is buds with him, but does NOT realize its. The same Michael.
Georgie - Michael
Georgie is the avatar of the Spiral! And it is ALWAYS fun. She can't feel fear, she can't stop giggling. It's fun! She makes the Spiral a bit more about twisting your emotions. Instead of making doors--which she can still do?--she makes peoples emotions change in wild ways they did NOT want them to go. She did work for Gerry before he died, and Gerry only sacrificed her to the Spiral when she begged him to let her at least try to reason with it.
Michael is a Normal Boy. A Regular Lad. Sure, he's six foot eight and hasn't cut his hair since middle school, but he's fine! He owns a little apartment where he writes screenplays for haunted house documentaries. He has six cats. He goes to tea with Martin a lot! As platonic buds. He also doesn't realize that Martin's crush Jon is his Jon.
Gertrude - Gerry
Why not? God is dead. Gertrude's father, Jared Hopworth, is obsessed with collecting weird bones, which meant that (enter Gerry's sad backstory here except all Evil Magic Leitner Books are Evil Magic Jonah Bones). Gertrude said Fuck This Noise and left to go be punk and try and destroy old burial sites. She died trying to help Gerry take down some bullshit The Flesh was up to.
Gerry is. Here. Well he isn't. Leitner found him and said "ah. My goth now." to which Gerry responded with "What?". He was appointed Archivist, and was immediately suspicious because you don't just hire some random nobody off the street and make him your head anything. He found some Hella Dirt on Leitner's past, and in return Leitner threatened his life and the lives of everyone he knows to keep quiet. Also go stop all these others from doing shit. The second part Gerry was actually into so he went and did it. He hired a group of three, and didn't purposefully kill them, unlike Gertrude. But like Jon, they died anyway. He tried to send Georgie away, but she got got. He tried to protect Gertrude, but she refused to let HIM die and died herself. He eventually found his way to get into the tunnels and met Jonah, who said "i mean i didnt do the carvings on the evil bones, i just collected them" and then Gerry died.
Jonah and Leitner
Jonah sucks less ass! Finally! You're morally allowed to be horny for Onceler Three: Now Hes British! In his youth, he tried to collect bones of Evil note, usually carved with Evil symbols. He learned how to read only part of the bones etc etc. Gertrude tried to kill him once, but he screamed like a wimp so she said fuck it. Wanted in fourteen American states for theft and graverobbing.
Leitner sucks ass! He made the Leitner Institute, and is pretending to be his own grandson. He still collects evil books, but now in the name of beaurocracy and The Eye. Tries to use his Old Man Charm to make people not want to beat his face in. But when they DO still want to beat his face in, he knows his way around an evil ass book and Will threaten deadly, or extremely painful, repurcussions. He's old friends with Agnes (Peter's replacement).
Peter Lukas and Agnes
Peter was an alright dude before he died! He was born made to be the avatar for The Lonely but never really... Wanted to be alone. He demanded his family to stay with him and threw fits about being alone until he was well over 14. Then they sent him to Hilltop Road to live with the lone Pastor there, which later disappeared in a flood. Sad. He's oceanophobic and dated some guy from a McDonalds for a while until Peter was murdered for not being anything The Lonely wanted him to be.
Agnes sucks and I am sorry. The Flame guides The Eye, and shows it the way. That's the deal made forever ago. She's buds with Leitner, they used to go threaten people with existential harm in their "youth". >:3c
Melanie - Sasha
Melanie is a soon to be dead archival assistant! Woop! She's tough as nails and really, really wishes she hadn't met Basira, got a little gay, and joined the Institute JUST to meet her. It's the impulsive nonsense, 's why she's Not Melanie and then Not Alive.
Sasha came in late, thankfully! She was too busy making a spooks and creeps blog. She's like, one of those weirdly popular Tumblr blogs that has a Patreon that actually gets patrons. It's wild and it's how she lives, baby. Until, well. She gets Scooby Doo'd, reports on it, then goes on a posting tangent and whoops there goes her followers. She's sad! She's even sadder she went to the Leitner Institute to give a statement and also got a little gay. She also got a very haunted.
i dont know what to do with tim. hes tim? hes tim. tim gets swapped with tim. im tired
(At this point i paused to type the tags)
*HELEN*
Helen and Tim
Helen is a nice but kind of sassy archival assistant! She originally did field work for the Institute, going out on long trips to gather other countries statements, but was brought back when Daisy became the Head Archivist. She's the level-headed one, whereas everyone else is Angry And Wlw. She has the braincell, thank god someone has to, and tries to keep everyone from going batshit.
Tim? Tim on the other hand? Barista. Georgie asked him to show her the bathroom at 3:33am and got abducted for a while. He escaped, made his statement--he and Daisy almost got into a fight before Georgie popped up again and stole that lad. When Georgie attempted on Daisy's life, Tim took over and said "Don't You Fucking Dare". Now Tim's Fuckhands McTimbs and he's here to be >:::::)))))))))))))))))
youre the only blog i could find that would accept this dumbshit(perhaps) au where jon+martin+georgie are swapped with daisy+basira+michael. daisy is the new archivist and shes pissed that she took 10 YEARS of practical fighting school and gets stuck with a shitty desk job. but the Eye likes her anyway bc she'll beat info outta ppl. basira is in a similar boat to daisy but basiras accepted that she did library science so this is her fate. theyre friends who stop the apoc. michael is also there.
sadly if you think i’d accept anything purely by dint of michael being there you have the wrong gerry delano
no though oh SHIT archivist daisy that sounds like it would take a HELL of a lot of wiggling stuff around and i’d be interested in seeing how the heck you made it work out like!!!! if you make a post writing out more of your thoughts/plans for this type of thing i’d be down to read it for sure!
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