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dreamwritesimagines · 3 years ago

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Enamored [25] - The Maze

A.N: Thank you so much for your amazing feedback my loves, you’re amazing!❤ I hope you’ll like this chapter as well, and please let me know what you think, thank you! ❤ And as always, thank you @theskytraveler for helping me with the chapter and the story❤

Summary: Midnight decisions come with consequences.

Warnings: Regency era society and social rules, angst, implications of sex

Word Count: 5700

Series Masterlist

It seemed as if everyone else was having fun but you.

It wasn’t that surprising, considering your heart was broken to pieces and every single thing about this wedding retreat just reminded you what you had planned for your own future, not to mention how in love you had been—

How much of a fool you had been.

You were supposed to enjoy these two days, especially now that the rest of the ton was here. At every corner there was a different entertainment, some had gone into the woods to hunt, some were playing games in the garden, there was a theatre company at some part of the yard setting up their stage, and there were many people promenading.

Yet, none of those options were appealing to you, so you ended up exploring the house in a desperate attempt to stay away from the person who refused to leave your mind, despite the heartbreak.

Elias had told you there were certain rooms in the house that were locked so that no one could get in, apparently they had been that way ever since the divorce so you were adamant on finding those rooms. You had always been good at unlocking since you were a kid, successfully getting into the pastry cabinet much to your cook’s displeasure, so you were sure that you could in fact get in those rooms, you just needed to find them first.

You turned a corner that led you into a deep hallway and tried a door, but it opened very easily, making you scrunch up your face and you closed it again, making your way to the next one, deep in thought. Pierre had told you he wanted to promenade with you in the afternoon and you were planning on accepting his offer, but first you needed to see Cecily and help her pick a gown for tonight’s dinner party. The engagement ball was coming tomorrow night, and you really wanted to make sure there were no flaws in her gown or accessories—

Your train of thought was cut off as soon as you opened the next door and your gasp caught in your throat, the two figures in the room separating from a kiss in a haste. You gawked at Hugh and Kenneth who both seemed out of breath as Hugh did his breaches while Kenneth got into his shirt, but before anyone could even say anything you heard Penelope’s voice from the end of the hall.

“Y/N?”

You turned around and slammed the door shut behind you, leaning back to it, holding the handle quite tight.

“I was exploring the house and thought I saw you,” Penelope made her way to you as you tried to fix your breathing, your heart pounding in your chest. “Are you alright?”

“Oh—yes of course I am!” you said, still leaning back to the door. “I’m also exploring the house, we can do it together! Just not this room, maids must have forgotten to clean it. It’s all dusty and dust makes me all breathless.”

“Oh I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright,” you said, clearing your throat. “But I can’t let my beloved friend and guest see this room in such state, so we’re going somewhere else.”

She let out a laugh as you pushed yourself off the door and linked your arm with hers, pulling her towards the end of the hallway.

“Have you had a chance to see the art gallery?” you asked, desperately trying to distract her and yourself, and she shook her head.

“No, where is it?”

“Downstairs, I found it by accident when I first got here,” you said. “I must admit, Cece was right. I really will need a map—”

“Lord Bridgerton?” Penelope cut you off, looking at the hallway you had just stepped into.

Oh Jesus Christ, you really should have gone outside and spent time with Pierre.

Anthony looked almost frozen and he straightened up from the wall he was leaning against, stealing a look behind him into the hallway before bowing his head to you. The mere sight of his handsome figure was enough to send that familiar pang of pain through your chest but you swallowed thickly and willed a smile on your face.

“Ladies,” he said, his gaze wandering off to you before he forced himself to focus, taking a deep breath. “How are you on this fine day?”

“We’re exploring the house,” Penelope said. “What are you doing in the hallway alone, Lord Bridgerton?”

Anthony cleared his throat. “I uh… I am waiting for Benedict.”

“Right here all by yourself?” you asked and he nodded fervently.

“You know how artists get. He is getting ready to go on a ride but knowing him, he got distracted by a painting on the wall or something.”

“Oh,” Penelope said and looked between you, then squeezed at your arm. “Come on, Y/N. Let’s go get distracted by the paintings as well.”

She pulled you out of the hallway so that you two could reach the staircase to go downstairs, and you let out a shaky breath. She offered you a small smile.

“Are you alright?”

“Yes,” you said. “Yes, why would I not be?”

“Because he broke your heart terribly, Y/N,” she stated “I may not know the details, but everyone knows something happened between you two.”

“Nothing happened.”

“No one believes that,” she scoffed. “You two were courting.”

You heaved a sigh as you two made your way into the art gallery, “We were not courting,” you said. “He’s a rake. He’s unable to love or commit to anybody, and I want a husband who can meet the responsibilities of matrimony. Courting with him just would not make sense. I know what Lady Whistledown writes but no courtship took place.”

Penelope raised her brows, making you smile slightly.

“You don’t believe a word I say, do you?”

“No,” she admitted, coaxing a small laughter from you and Penelope turned her head when she heard Colin calling out for her, “But do let me know if denial somehow starts working for you.”

With that, she walked away from you and you shook your head, then approached a painting. You dug your palms into your eyes for a moment, trying to pull yourself together and just how close it was to be seen by Penelope, then lowered your hands and clasped them behind your back, looking up at the painting.

It took you a moment to recognize the figures and as soon as you did, you scoffed.

Venus and Mars.

How fitting.

Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Hugh entering the painting room and he made his way to you without sparing any glances to any other person in the room, and took a deep breath.

“Y/N I know you have questions but first,” he said breathlessly. “I ask you not to tell anyone, if this got out in any way—”

“Why would I tell anyone?” you cut him off, confused and that seemed to make him pull back for a moment.

“I just assumed…” he trailed off, at loss for words and you bit down on your lip, then looked around.

“I grew up in Paris,” you reminded him. “It is not the first time I see um, men in love,” you lowered your voice into a whisper and he tilted his head.

“Oh,” he said after a beat and you licked your lips.

“I was under the impression that kissing was how a lady came to be with child, which apparently is not but back then I just assumed when it happened between two men, there couldn’t be the proof of a scandal so in a way it was allowed because my mother had this friend who had an arrangement and also one of my friends back in Paris said—wait, why was Kenneth shirtless though?” you got distracted by your own train of thought and Hugh pursed his lips.

“I’m not answering that question. How do you know?”

“Hm?”

“How do you know kissing is not how a lady comes to be with child?”

You shot him a look, ignoring his grin, then took a deep breath

“Is that why you don’t want to get married? Because you have no desire for ladies?”

“I have desire for ladies and lords,” he corrected you in a whisper and you nodded slowly.

“I see. And are you in love with Kenneth?”

“I’ve just met him, Y/N,” he said with a small smile. “Thank you by the way.”

“For what?”

“For being you,” he said. “I assumed many things but I did not assume the hardest question I would get from you about this would be whether I am in love or not.”

You shrugged your shoulders. “It’s the most important question after all,” you said. “Everything else is a detail. Does Cecily know?”

“She’s the only one who knows, and now you. I’d like to keep it that way.”

You nodded again. “Of course. But Hugh, are you in love?”

He looked around to check if anyone was watching, then bumped his shoulder with yours. “We’ll see. How’s the rake? Is he still following our lovely nymph around with that tormented look in his eyes?”

“Please don’t call me that, I think Mr. Sinclair is around.”

“So is the Parisian with the mustache,” he said. “And your many other suitors. Is that the plan then? You’re going to avoid all of them?”

“No, I’m going to be promenading with Pierre this afternoon.”

“Hugh!” you heard Cecily’s mother, and Hugh heaved a sigh.

“It seems that I’m needed,” he said. “I’ll talk to you later if my mother lets me go, hm?”

“Alright,” you said and watched him walk away from you with a sigh before you forced yourself to gather your thoughts and turned your gaze to the painting once again.

You spent the next hour walking around the huge gallery, admiring the artwork all over the walls and just when you were about to leave, you saw Cecily enter the room.

There was something different about her.

She was almost glowing, a huge smile lighting up her face. Her eyes held a happy glimmer in them and she made her way to you, bouncing on her steps.

“Hello!” she said, making you smile. “I couldn’t see you the whole day!”

“I was exploring the house,” you said, letting her hug you from sideways before she pressed a kiss on your cheek. “How about you?”

“I was…um,” she stammered. “Elias was—Elias was showing me around.”

“Really? Because I’ve been inside the whole day, I didn’t see you two.”

“Well it’s a big house,” she said, averting her gaze from you and you frowned at her gown.

“Cece, your maid missed a loop.”

Her head shot up, “Hm?”

“Your maid missed a loop while she was lacing the front of your dress,” You pointed at the laces over the cleavage of her dress and she looked down at them, then cleared her throat.

“Oh that escaped my attention,” she said, quickly putting the laces into the correct loops and tying them up. “So you’ve been exploring the house?”

“Mm hm.”

“What are your plans for the afternoon?” she asked and you shrugged your shoulders.

“I’ll be spending time with Pierre,” you said, making Cecily scrunch up her face, “What is that expression?”

“Why would you want to spend time with him?”

Well, Cecily and Elias didn’t need to know about your plans after all. It was their weekend and you weren’t going to take it away from them.

You had a feeling that Elias would disagree with you planning on saying yes to Pierre when he asked.

“I enjoy spending time with him,” you said. “And I haven’t seen the half of the yard yet, I’d like to explore outside as well.”

“Have you seen the maze yet?”

Your eyes widened. “There’s a maze?”

“Yes!” she said, “There’s a huge maze right behind the Storm Shelter. I was there yesterday with my mama but didn’t go in.”

“Oh God I want to see it too!” you said. “Do you think I’d get lost?”

“Well apparently Elias got lost there multiple times so the Duke planted white roses leading to the heart of the maze and outside,” she said. “You would just follow the roses. Elias says there’s a fountain at the heart of it!”

“That sounds absolutely beautiful.”

“Promise me you won’t take Pierre there,” Cecily said. “I don’t want you to get influenced by the romantic scenery and find him romantic as well.”

“I’m not taking him anywhere,” you said. “We will just walk around the yard, and Lucie will be with us. At least she will be if I can find her.”

“You haven’t seen her today?”

“No I have, Iona was talking to her and they seemed to be having a fun conversation so I just let them be,” you said. “They’re by the garden, they said they’d stay there—anyway, would you like me to go over what you will wear at tonight’s dinner party?”

Cecily pressed a hand over her chest. “You’re an angel, you know that?”

“Far from it,” you pointed out and linked your arm with hers, making her giggle. “Let’s go then, future duchess.”

It was only by the afternoon that you and Cecily decided on her gown and you could go outside. It was such a clear sunny day that you couldn’t help but smile, and watched Lucie and Iona who seemed to be having a conversation by one of the trees before you turned your head to catch the sight of Pierre talking to his aunt. You lingered there for a moment, trying to decide whether you should go there or not but before you could make up your mind, someone cleared their throat behind you, making you spin around.

“Lady Danbury,” you said, dropping a curtsy, “Good afternoon.”

“Good afternoon Y/N,” she said and motioned at one of the maids carrying a tray of lemonade. “You weren’t going anywhere, were you?”

“Um—“ you took a look at Pierre who was still talking to his aunt and turned to her, then smiled. “No.”

“Great. I was hoping we could talk.”

You took the lemonade glass from the tray and cleared your throat.

“You seem to feel better,” she stated and you nodded.

“I do,” you said. “Thank you again for your visit. I do wish I could’ve been a better hostess—”

She waved a dismissive hand in air. “You were just perfect, considering the circumstances. Your mother raised you well.”

You offered her a small smile. “It means so much to me to hear this Lady Danbury, you’re very kind.”

“So,” she said. “You have gained a lot of new suitors since I last talked to you. What was it, Lady Whistledown called you? Shooting through London’s marriage mart like a comet?”

“I think I’m among the lucky few that managed to get a praise from Lady Whistledown,” you joked and she nodded.

“But the last time I checked, your heart belonged to one suitor only,” she said, making your smile fade. “Has that changed?”

You looked down at your glass and her eyes found someone over your shoulder before she turned to you.

“Y/N?”

“I was very naïve when I first got here, and afterwards,” you managed to say before lifting your glances at her, “I’m proud to say I’m not anymore.”

“What do you mean?”

“It was a childish dream to hope that I would have a love marriage,” you said. “Now I know I must have other expectations and I’m glad to say that I have a suitor in mind that fits those expectations.”

She frowned. “What expectations?”

“An adequate life partner,” you said. “Someone I can build a life with and raise children with. I’ll be…I’ll be busy with my family after I get married and I’m planning not to drag it out, I’ll marry this season.”

Her frown deepened. “But Anthony…”

“I think I will always be in love with Viscount Bridgerton,” you admitted with a sad smile, making her pull back slightly. “But that makes no difference, unfortunately. My feelings cannot change the situation, or him.”

That seemed to make her fall silent for a moment and you shifted your weight.

“I’m sorry, was I not supposed to say that?” you asked and she shook her head.

“No,” she assured you. “No, your honesty is very welcomed. You merely took me by surprise, and not many people can say that.”

You took a sip of your lemonade and her eyes searched your face.

“If you’re in love with him, and seeing that he loves you—”

“He doesn’t.”

Lady Danbury tilted her head. “You believe he does not love you?” she repeated. “My dear girl are you blind?”

“I was,” you said. “When I thought he could love me, when I thought we could have a future. I don’t have the luxury of hoping for that anymore, and I see no point in wasting time.”

She took a deep breath.

“The worst mistake you could do in your life is to get married to someone when you’re in love with another,” she said. “Don’t do this. Your mother would’ve never wanted that sort of misery for you. Don’t…” she trailed off. “Y/N, don’t condemn him and yourself to that torment.”

You bit inside your cheek but before you could say anything else, you heard Pierre’s voice.

“Lady Danbury,” he said, “Mademoiselle.”

“Monsieur Allard.”

“I was hoping I could steal you for a walk?” he asked and you smiled at Lady Danbury.

“Thank you, Lady Danbury,” you said. “Really. Your advice is always precious for me but I’m afraid it’s about time I acknowledge what is possible and what is not.”

She heaved a deep sigh, shaking her head.

“Where’s your father?”

“The duke is inside with aunt Lavinia, they’re in the ballroom if I’m not mistaken.”

“Very well,” she said. “Have a good afternoon Y/N. Monsieur Allard.”

“Lady Danbury,” you both said and you watched her make her way into the house. You waved at Lucie and Iona and Lucie immediately approached you before Pierre offered you his arm.

“Shall we, mademoiselle?”

The dinner party was a success in so many ways, and it wasn’t just because you and Anthony were seated far away from each other. After the dinner party, everyone seemed to be having fun but you had excused yourself to the safety of your room, away from the crowd.

The sun must have been heavy on you in the afternoon because you had fallen asleep almost within the hour of getting to your room, which meant that you woke up in the middle of the night with a gasp, the dream –the memory swirling in your mind, making you press your palms over your eyes.

There was no way you would be getting any sleep now.

You kicked off the covers to get out of the bed and started pacing in your room, your heart still pounding in your ears. That image of Anthony and Siena separating from a kiss was still flashing in your eyes but you shook your head at yourself, then went to the window to open it, letting the fresh air fill into the room. You stayed there by the window, keeping your gaze on the scenery.

Stormview Park was really beautiful, and the yard was no exception.

With a strange timing, Cecily’s words about there being a maze echoed in your head and you pulled back slightly, trying to decide whether you could explore it now or not. It was the middle of the night, which meant there would be no one around, which meant—

It would be peaceful, and maybe focusing on something else would help you get rid of these unwelcomed thoughts.

You hesitated only for a moment before you grabbed your dressing gown off the chair and put it on, then peeked your head out of the door, taking a look into the hallway. It looks completely empty, all the guests were sleeping in their designated rooms so you stepped outside, then made your way downstairs and out of the house as quietly as possible. You went to the backyard, rubbing your arms at the chilly weather, then took a deep breath and grabbed the long skirt of your dressing gown along with your nightgown, lifted it a little and started running towards the Storm Shelter.

Cecily was right, there was a glorious maze standing right behind it.

You could feel your heart beating in excitement before you stepped into the maze, the first white rose greeting you by the corner and a smile you couldn’t stop pulled at your lips.

“Thank you Elias for being terrible with directions,” you murmured as you followed the path to turn the corner, running your hand over the green hedges.

It took you some time to reach the heart of the maze because you kept getting distracted, but when you reached there, the view made you gasp. The marble statues of the maze looked almost mystical, luring you in while the sound of the water sent a calmness over you, making you let out a breath. You stepped closer to the fountain, staring at the statues before you recognized the center piece, and stepped back, a whisper leaving your lips.

“…Mom?”

Cassandra of Troy.

Even under the moonlight you could see how the doomed princess of Troy looked exactly like your mother, standing beside what looked to be the Trojan Horse. You covered your mouth, approaching the statue as that burning in your eyes came back.

You knew about the story. Cassandra was the beautiful princess of Troy, beautiful enough to get Apollo’s attention. Apollo wanted her and gave her the gift of prophecy but upon rejection, he twisted his gift so that no one would ever believe Cassandra.

You shook your head, trying to shake off the thoughts as you approached the fountain to trail your hand in the water, but you were distracted when you heard footsteps. Your heart leaped to your throat as you turned around, but the panic disappear instantly when Anthony entered your sight.

“What are you doing here?” you asked and he stared at you for a couple of seconds, then swallowed thickly.

“I uh… I saw you run here through my window.”

You raised your brows, “And you thought you could just join?”

“I wanted to make sure you wouldn’t get lost,” he said, motioning around. “I don’t know if anyone told you but—”

“Follow the roses, I know.”

He nodded slowly and your heartbeat got faster as your eyes fell upon his handsome face under the moonlight. He still had that stubble and it did nothing to hide his handsome features. Every single muscle in your body was urging you to go to him, to stop this torment as Lady Danbury had said but—

But you couldn’t. You knew you couldn’t.

He took a trembling breath. “I saw you promenading with Allard today,” he said. “Has he asked you yet?”

You didn’t even have to think twice to understand he was talking about Pierre’s upcoming proposal, and you stuck your nose in the air.

“I don’t see how that’s any of your concern.”

The sky lit up, making both of you look up as the sound of lightning reached you and soon the rain started.

“Has he?” he asked again and you shrugged your shoulders.

“Not yet,” you said. “But he will. He keeps implying it. I just hope he waits until we get back to London because I don’t want to distract anyone from this wedding, it’s Cecily and Elias’s weekend—”

He cut you off as if he was in a haste. “Don’t marry him.”

You let out a humorless chuckle, wiping the raindrops off your eyes as you tried your hardest not to look at his white shirt clinging to his body, sending tingles through your lower stomach.

“Right,” you said, forcing yourself to focus. “I suppose you have a reason for—”

“Marry me instead.”

That was enough to make your head snap up and the sound of lightning echoed over the yard as the rain started to pour heavier than before, but all you could do was stare at him, your heart pounding in your ears. Disbelief took over you so suddenly that you were at a loss for words for a moment but you managed to repeat the words as if they weren’t stabbing you in the chest.

“Marry you instead.”

He nodded, his dark gaze searching your face but you just stood there frozen, making him shift his weight.

This wasn’t how it was supposed to go.

This wasn’t—

This wasn’t how he was supposed to do this, none of this was right.

Still, a small part of your mind, the one that always seemed to make your heart lead your decisions made the simple question spill from your lips.

“Why?”

Despite everything, despite your every single claim to be otherwise, you were still naïve. Even you could tell, because deep down you could feel the hope sparking to life inside of you.

Even after he had broken your heart beyond repair, you still wanted his love, desperately. You were almost consumed by the need, and if he was in love with you the way you were in love with him…

It could change everything.

You kept your gaze on him, your expression completely unreadable as though your heart wasn’t slamming against your chest when he took a step towards you.

“Because I—”he trailed off and paused for a moment to swallow thickly, his eyes darting over your face as if he was searching for words.

But when he found them, you wished he hadn’t.

“It’s the logical thing to do, for both of us.”

…Oh.

Of course.

Of course this proposal was based on logic, rather than emotions. It would be foolish to think Anthony would ever propose to you for love.

Of course it had to be logical.

He took a deep breath and threw his shoulders back, as if trying to get rid of some tenseness.

“As my wife you will have access to my fortune and name, and everything that comes with it,” he said as your throat tightened. “I can provide better financial security for you than he can, and as a Viscountess you will have a permanent and influential standing in the ton.”

You could barely feel the rain on your skin, but you felt the icy shards making their way through your veins into your heart, making it harder for you to breathe through the pain.

“And it’s clear that we already have a very strong desire for each other, so having heirs will not prove to be challenging. In fact I think it will be very easy, considering the undeniable attraction.”

Somehow, every single sentence that left his lips managed to make this whole disaster even worse and you gawked at him in complete silence, blinking a couple of times.

“Not to mention, our children would have uncontested places in the ton and they would want for nothing,” he said after a pause. “It’s the perfect union.”

Right.

He wanted you for the easiness of having heirs who would have uncontested places in the ton. That was the logic behind this so-called proposal. Not love, not an ounce of affections, not even remorse over how he had treated you all this time while you were in love with him.

You had been deemed worthy to have his heirs within matrimony, much to his generosity.

You blinked back the tears and shook your head, then walked past him to follow the roses, making him rush after you.

“Y/N—”

“Shut up,” you gritted out, wiping at your eyes and turned the corner without sparing so much as a look at him but that didn’t discourage him from coming after you.

“I don’t understand—”

“No,” you managed to say. “No you don’t understand, that much is clear.”

“But I thought—”

“What?” your voice rose as you spun around to glare up at him, “What did you think, hm? That I would just stand there and accept this humiliation?”

“Humiliation?” he repeated and you turned another corner, making your way through the maze as he rushed after you. “How am I humiliating you when I’m asking you to marry me?”

The lightning crackled through the sky again and you stepped out of the maze, then wiped at your eyes, sniffling.

“Oh is that what you’re doing?” you asked as you turned around to look at him better. “You’re asking me to marry you?”

He looked almost exasperated. “Yes!”

“Then my answer is no,” you said, making him pull back. “I reject your proposal.”

He stared at you for a couple of seconds as if he was in shock.

“…What?”

A hysterical laughter climbed up your chest and you wiped at your face to get rid of the heavy raindrops blurring your vision, but at this point you couldn’t even tell if it were tears or the rain.

“You don’t even see it, do you? You just,” you stopped yourself. “Forget it.”

“You told me yourself that you wanted—”

“I’m not taking this bait again,” you said. “And I’m not going to let you do this again. I’m not.”

He pulled his brows together. “What am I doing, exactly?”

“You’re trying to drag me into this game!”

“Oh I’m dragging you into this game?” he repeated. “You’ve been announcing how you would only marry for love to anyone who’s listening ever since you arrived, you looked me in the eye and told me you loved me and now you reject my proposal but I’m the one playing games?”

“I’m going to marry Pierre,” you said as you turned to walk away from him but he grabbed you by the arm and spun you around, making you shove him back by pushing at his chest. You tried to ignore the warmth spreading through your fingertips, and gritted your teeth.

“I’m going to marry Pierre,” you repeated, your accent shifting as you raised your voice and he shook his head.

“You can’t marry him, you don’t even love him!”

“That’s exactly why I’m going to marry him!” you cried out as you wiped at your eyes. “God, you really don’t understand it, do you?”

“What?” he sounded nearly out of his mind at this point, like he had lost his grip on any control he had. “What don’t I understand?”

“I would rather marry him than you,” you said, making him pull back slightly.

“Y/N—”

“No, I listened to you so how about for once you listen to me?” you cut him off. “How about for once you actually pay attention to what I have to say? I would rather marry him than you, because at least with him I know what to expect. But with you? If I married you? Every night I would go to sleep hoping that by some miracle you would wake up in love with me the next morning, and every morning I would find my hopes shattered. Again and again, every single day, Anthony.”

That seemed to have rendered him speechless and you sniffled, tears falling freely from your eyes.

“It might be marriage for you,” you managed to say. “But for me, it would be a lifelong torment. That’s what you offer me. You offer me a life full of despair and I will not…I can’t condemn myself to that torture willingly. I already feel as if I am dying every time I look at you, and I do not even know what fault I’ve committed to be subjected to this.”

“You’ve committed no fault—”

“Then why do you keep treating me this way?” your voice cracked before you let out a teary chuckle.

“You treated me like a shameful secret,” you told him as he shook his head fervently but you didn’t let him talk. “You didn’t court me, you didn’t give me any promises, you didn’t tell anyone about me and now what? I’ve been finally found worthy of…” you trailed off and let out a painful chuckle. “This is too cruel, even for you.”

He looked almost frozen and you took a step back before darting for the house, climbing up the marble stairs, desperate to get away but of course he wouldn’t let you. You stepped inside with him following you in mere seconds.

“Y/N—”

“I will not marry you,” you said through your teeth as you turned to look at him. “I would never marry you. You don’t have a heart, Anthony. Go find some other fool to make you feel like you have one.”

A silence fell upon you both as he stared at you, pain written all over his dark eyes but before either of you could say anything, a voice reached you.

“What on earth are you two doing?”

You spun around to find Cecily by the staircase, holding a candle and staring at you. For a moment you became overly aware of how both you and Anthony were drenched and were standing there unchaperoned, in your nightgown clinging to your skin to make the situation even more scandalous but thankfully it was Cecily, and there was no way she would ever say anything to anyone.

“Are you trying to end up married?” she asked. “If anyone saw you here like this…”

Anthony’s chuckle was bitter.

“Don’t worry,” he rasped out. “She already said no.”

You turned to frown at him, letting out a breath of disbelief before you tried to offer Cecily a smile.

“Good night Cece,” you murmured, and climbed up the stairs, barely hearing Cecily telling Anthony to accompany her to the map room. If it were any other time, you would’ve realized just how strange it was but you could barely focus on anything other than your heartbreak. You wiped at your eyes as you entered your room and closed the door behind you, then leaned against it and slipped down.

You sat on the floor completely quiet for a moment.

Then the sobs started.

Chapter 26

#anthony bridgerton #anthony bridgerton x reader #bridgerton #bridgerton x reader #regency fic

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somanyfuckedupiftruebooks · 2 years ago

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Mag 17

The return of Mike! And evidence that he was an asshole long before he made a living throwing people off of towers. Knowingly setting Leitners loose into the world crosses the line from negligence into maliciousness.

I'm so interested in the relationship between Jared and Sebastian. Growing up as friends, despite how different they are. Then Jared feels betrayed when Sebastian leaves for uni and grows to resent him. So when he returns, Jared starts terrorising him, including showing up at his place of work, but is very careful to never do anything in front of witnesses. And Sebastian is still weirdly fond of Jared, despite things like getting hit over the back of the head with books.

Yeah, I think they were exes.

Fun fact! On my very first listen this was my biggest scare of the series to date. Don't get me wrong, the recording from Lost Johns' Cave was creepy, but the sudden sound of the door opening ripped me out of the statement, and at this point I hadn't really been paying attention to the meta narrative so it was completely unexpected that anyone would interrupt Jon. Seems silly in hindsight, but it's very ironic that the first thing in the show to actually get my heart pounding with genuine fear was the arrival of Elias.

Haha, Archivist's in trouble!

As I said during Naomi's statement, this listen through has made realise that Elias is just using her compliant as an excuse to make Jon back off from annoying the Lukas family. I mean, I knew he didn't give a shit about Naomi, but I figured he was just doing this to be a dick and make Jon feel like he's being watched.

I still think he's doing both of those things, but the primary motivation is the fact that he got an annoyed phonecall from Peter and he's trying to hold off their next divorce another couple of weeks.

I'm confused by the line 'if Rose kept her equipment in better condition'. Obviously it's a reference to the fact that he's frustrated by needing to use the tape recorder, by why is that Rosie's fault? Wouldn't it be the recording software on the laptops in the Research and Archives departments that isn't working? What does Rosie have to do with that? Is she personally responsible for all the equipment in the Institute? I thought she was Elias's P.A.?

No idea what Jon means by that. But at least he's going to be more lovely! That should be good to see. XD

Another reason why Elias felt the need to come down here in person, because Jon hasn't flagged anything unusual about Martin being gone and maybe he was hoping that if he pointed Jon in the right direction it might lead to a Corruption mark. Unfortunately Jon is too busy enjoying Martin's absence from the Archives to want to look a gift horse in the mouth.

Alternate caption: MARTIN!!! MARTIN MY BELOVED!!! WHERE ARE YOU???

Love that it's so completely out of character for Jared to read a book that Sebastian flags the entire interaction as weird.

Also a great detail that Jared was afriad even as he was captivated by the book. I will never get over the fact that an essential component of being an avatar is fearing your patron. It's so great that serving them grants power but not relief, not escape.

Poor Mrs Hopworth. She's really going through it. But this whole interaction makes me read her as the mother who disapproves of her son's boyfriend. The shifting of blame from Jared to the book to the man who 'gave him' the book, the way she silently throws the book to the ground and only interacts with Sebastian after he mentions Jared by name, her fury and disgust (she actually spits at him). To me it all reads as classic homophobic 'you've perverted my innocent son with your evil queerness' nonsense.

This might be a tenuous connection, but I've actually read Misery since the last time I listened to this episode, and I wonder if the reason it's included here is because all the fucked up stuff that happens to the protagonist's leg in that book is extremely evocative of boneturning.

#a mag a day #reeah reacts to tma #jared hopworth #mag 17

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linktoo · 3 years ago

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MAG S4

oogfh here comes the concerns

I have lots of thoughts about S4 but all in all I DID enjoy it. I really did. But I also think this was the season that really exposed the prevalent writing flaws that tma had in general.

I think first of all with S4 is that it was much harder to get through all of a sudden compared to S3’s brisk pace - there wasn’t enough levity. Not enough humour, and I can't stress how important the humour is in this damn story. I needed a giggle every ep even when it was dramatic and serious. And it made it emotionally difficult. (I know that's the point.)

I think I understand what particularly bothers me about S4 and honestly a prevalent problem in tma in general and it has to do with the fact it gets a little stale when people are so venomously angry for no reason. There is a lot of misdirected anger that was directed towards Jon - and I’m not just saying that as the audience just gets to see Jon as the most sympathetic. I like the conflict more when it's people struggling to understand and failing. Jon's a pretty good example because he's figuring out the best way to care but also succumbing to his own issues and faults. and I think the other characters don't get that same sort of treatment (Tim, Basira, Melanie, etc). And I get the audience wants to root for Jon, I really do. but the complaints make a lot of sense to me because it doesn't feel like anyone's trying to figure out the root issue and just stay angry all the time. people can be withdrawn for more complicated reasons. even with the Lonely/Ghost bullet very obviously affecting everyone it just feels. less human I guess. you can be resentful but there should be a push and pull tug, not "Everyone Hate Jon" party (especially when Elias was much more brutal in S3). There's more nuance to that and the podcast often fails to give them enough space to try. I think the closest they get to it is Melanie’s conflicting feelings, all of her trust being destroyed for her life to be saved. That was fun. I liked that.

Other than that though, the plot beats are really good. REALLY GOOD. I think about the ocean door metaphor a lot because OF COURSE I DO it’s absolutely devastating that this analogy is explained to basira, who then never actually applies his explanation to anything useful.

And now it’s time to accept that Jon's use of powers no matter how important it is to "the story" is traumatizing innocent people... it's hard to accept but as an audience you seriously have to fucking understand why no one trusts him at the institute even though he's nice. Also EXCELLENT use of a statement that wasn't compelled but also very comprehensive. That voice acting was incredible. it's MARTIN taking that statement it's already hard for us (rooting for Jon) I can't even imagine being in his position wanting to protect Jon over and over and over with his own life and hearing THIS. He has to actively hope Jon made this horrible decision because otherwise the only other option is that Jon is completely gone, and it's so upsetting,

Also I absolutely need Melanie/Georgie fics of them falling in love at the Institute. the implied emotions and feelings of that whole thing with JON, GEORGIE’S SUPERNATURAL EX BEING THE CENTER OF IT ALL. before they were decidedly going to live together like WHAT

And then the ending to S4. God what a culmination of everything we learned about, finally the payoff we’ve all been looking forward to. I know Jonny and Alex said it was really hard to nail the Jon and Martin dynamic because they have SO FEW INTERACTIONS in S4, and I like to imagine it really helped with their care in terms of writing them. Martin really shows the work he’s been planning in order to save Jon. Jon’s final mark is him willingly going to save Martin, no matter what. Elias’s wager being entirely based on his realization of the lengths they’d go for each other. “I see you” what a powerful way to reclaim a running motif, a twisted phrase in this story. The “hello Jon” statement. Seriously this was so fucking awesome and a great payoff for a bit of a bit of an unsteady, but jampacked season. I honestly saw S4 in its entirety and thought “yeah. You know what? S5, no matter what happens, I can trust the creators to at least create something satisfying and awesome at the end, they can stick the landing.” And that continued to be my confident assumption starting S5 (Spoilers. I regret believing that.)

[Masterlist] [1] [2] [3] [4] [5]

(talk to me!! send asks if you have any!)

#tma #the magnus archives #linktoo rambles #I'll take awhile before I finish up my S5 notes IM JUST A LITTLE BIT MISERABLE OK

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nhlandotherimagines · 4 years ago

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I Wish- Quinn Hughes

@natbarzal @anastasiyaigorevnadobrodevskaya @jonnytoews19

Well here is blurb number 6 of my Up All Night series! I absolutely adore Quinn Hughes so writing this broke my heart! This is just pure angst and heartbreak, oh and some curse words so consider yourself warned!

Please let me know what you think! Thank you all so much for your continued support you’re amazing! ❤️

He takes your hand, I die a little. I watch your eyes and I'm in riddles. Why can't you look at me like that?

“Y/n here yet?” Elias asks, bumping his shoulder playfully into Quinn. Quinn’s face reddens at the question, and Elias’ smirk grows. The whole team knows Quinn is hopelessly in love with you, and they chirp him endlessly for it.

“Piss off Petey,” Quinn grumbles, “She should be here soon.” The boys threw a little get together for Quinn’s birthday, so of course they invited you. You and Quinn have become really close over the last year, so when Brock put together the invite list you were at the top.

“You should tell her.” Petey states, slipping away from Quinn. Almost as if on cue, you walk through the door. Quinn immediately lights up seeing you, however it doesn’t last long. He is sure he’s going to throw up, maybe even die, when he sees the man walking next to you. It is a guy Quinn has never met before, but judging by where his fingers are interlocked with yours, you are quite familiar with him.

“There he is! Happy Birthday Quinny!” You beam, dropping the mystery man’s hand to wrap both your arms around Quinn.

“Thanks Y/n/n, I’m glad you could make it.” He smiles down at you as you pull away. Sure it was the truth, but Quinn can’t help but fight the frown threatening to settle itself on his face.

The man beside you clears his throat as you pull away from Quinn. “Oh right! Quinn this is my boyfriend Jake, Jake this is Quinn!” You smile brightly up at Jake, and he smiles back. The two of you are so caught up in each other you don’t see Quinn’s face fall as he watches you.

Quinn can feel his world crumbling around him. The way you’re looking at this guy, your boyfriend, Quinn wants you to look at him like that. Until this point he had thought it was an option, that maybe you felt the same. Apparently he was wrong. “Nice to meet you Jake.”

When you walk by, I try to say it, but then I freeze, and never do it. My tongue gets tied, the words get trapped. I hear the beat of my heart getting louder, whenever I'm near you

“What?!” Elias’ eyes are practically bugging out of his head now, as he stares at Quinn in disbelief.

“She brought her boyfriend Petey.” Quinn states again, annoyance clear in his voice. Elias opens his mouth to speak, but Quinn quickly shuts him down. “Just quit it okay? There was no hope anyway, it’s fine.” Before Elias can protest, Quinn is walking away. His shoulders slump in defeat as he attempts to mingle with the people that have shown up for his party.

Quinn is sure this is the worst birthday he’s ever had. Sure, it was nice to spend some time with his friends, but he’s never felt this terrible before.

When Quinn finally sees you alone, you’re walking back from the washroom. As you walk past him, his mouth opens to speak. He wants to tell you how he feels, ask what your deal with Jake is, and tell you how bad he wishes it were him. As you smile at him, his heart hammers aggressively in his chest. He cannot form any sentences as you walk right past him, finding your way back to Jake. He was tongue tied, and there was nothing he could do.

But I see you with him slow dancing, tearing me apart 'cause you don't see. Whenever you kiss him, I'm breaking, Oh how I wish that was me

Brock and Elias try their best to keep Quinn entertained for the rest of the evening. Keeping him out of his own head, and his attention off of you. Their efforts, although for his best interest, don’t stop Quinn from watching you whenever you were in view. Jake’s hands gripping your hips, as the two of you swayed back and forth. The two of you slow dance, despite the hip hop beats that someone had playing through Quinn’s speakers, as if you had your own music playing that no one could hear.

It is rough for Quinn to keep the smile on his face as the steady stream of well wishes continues throughout the night. He does a great job of it though, that is until he hits his breaking point. After towing the line all night, on the verge of a breakdown, or perhaps a temper tantrum, Quinn breaks. That line snaps the moment Quinn watches your lips press to Jake’s. The kiss is short and sweet, but to Quinn it feels like it goes on forever. To him, that kiss solidifies the fact he will never have you.

So he drinks. A lot.

He looks at you, the way that I would. Does all the things, I know that I could. If only time, could just turn back

“Quinn slow down!” Brock pleads, trying to pull Quinn from the kitchen where he has spent the last five minutes taking shots. Quinn just shrugs him off pouring more, trying to rid the whole night from his memory. Trying to rid you from his memory. Brock knows he can’t talk any sense into Quinn, so he does the only thing he knows to.

“Y/n!” Brock calls out your name, and when you turn around, you see him running towards you in a panic. You send him a confused look encouraging him to tell you what is going on. “It’s Quinn. I need your help he won’t listen to me.”

When you see him it scares you. You’ve never seen him like this. Hell, no one has. He’s not drinking for fun, and just trying to keep up with the big guys. You’ve seen those times. This time is different, he’s alone, mumbling to himself and knocking back shots as fast as he can pour them.

“Quinn?” Your voice shakes as you place on hand on his shoulder, and use the other to stop him from pouring another shot. His head shoots up at the sound of your voice, eyes meeting yours. The hurt in his eyes is enough for you to have to fight back tears of your own. “I think you should stop.”

“Why do you care? Go back to your boyfriend,” he spits. The anger in his tone drops though, when he sees your face twist. “I’m just having fun.”

“No you aren’t. Talk to me Quinn, I DO care about you.” You plead, but he just shakes his head and let’s out a sad laugh.

“If you care, why him?” Quinn’s eyes are boring into your own, “I could do what he does. I want to. I can look at you like that, I could’ve been that guy! And if I could go back and change things I would.” You can only stare back at him in astonishment, unable to form any words. His confession hits you hard, you didn’t know. How could you?

When you think about it though, it is pretty obvious. Quinn has always complimented you, been the first to offer you help even if you didn’t need it, and always requested you as his plus one. You feel stupid for not having clued in before, and you feel bad for being the reason for your friend’s broken heart.

'Cause I got three little words that I've always been dying to tell you...

“Quinn, I’m sorry I didn’t know you liked me-“ you start, stammering slightly. You’re trying to form an apology without making matters worse, but Quinn cuts you off.

“I don’t like you Y/n.” There it is again, that venom in his words. Quinn was never one to get mad like this, and you don’t like it. His words, although angry, still confuse you.

“B-but you just said?” You hardly register the three men standing behind you now. Brock and Elias both trying to figure out what is happening, and Jake watching you closely.

“I don’t like you. I love you. Always have. Now if you’ll excuse me I have a bottle to get back to and I’m sure you haven’t forgotten that you have a boyfriend to get back to.” Quinn pulls his hand free from your grip on his wrist. Instead of pouring another shot though he brings the bottle up to his lips and turns to walk away.

“Quinn wait!” You call out to him, but he doesn’t stop. He just continues walking towards his room down the hall. “I loved you too you know?” Tears begin to slip down your face, and you know you’ve drawn a crowd but at this point you don’t care. You watch as Quinn freezes, his entire body going rigid, but he doesn’t respond or turn around.

“But you are Quinn-fucking-Hughes, and I’m just me! I counted myself lucky to even be able to call you a friend, so I couldn’t tell you how I felt. You could have any girl Quinn.” You watch him closely, trying to steady your breathing as you do so.

Quinn turns around, the wild look on his face is certainly not what you were expecting. “Well guess what! I don’t want any girl, I want you. But I guess that ships sailed huh?” He glances over your shoulder for a moment, and speaks again. “Take care of her Jake, she’s a good one.”

Without another word from anyone, Quinn is gone. The slamming and locking of his door, so loud that it’s heard over the music. In your attempt to save your friendship with Quinn, you lost him altogether. Now you’re left to wish; wish that this never happened.

#Up All Night-series #quinn hughes #quinn hughes x reader #Quinn Hughes fanfiction #Quinn Hughes fanfic #quinn hughes imagine #nhl fan fiction #nhl imagines #nhl imagine #nhl fanfic #nhl fanfiction #hockey imagine #hockey imagines #hockey fanfic #hockey fan fiction #hockey fanfiction

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laceandhockeyskates · 4 years ago

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As friends ft. Quinn Hughes

Summary: 4 times that Quinn has you do something as friends + 1 time when it’s more.

Request: Absolutely none. Once again this is one that has been bugging me while I’m working.

A/N: This concept came to while I was in the middle of my shift. It started as Quinn asking a friend on a really adorable date, and it kind of just exploded and became this. It was originally suppose to be like..... a third of this length and somehow ended up as a 4+1

Warnings:

Word count: 5.8k

It had been a crisp October morning when you first met the rowdy group of hockey players at a charity event. They had come through and caught everyone’s attention with their loud laughter, and their general personalities. Somehow you had been roped into spending your day more or less babysitting the likes of Brock Boeser, Elias Pettersson, and Quinn Hughes. During those hours of rushing around and the chirps flowing back and forth a friendship had begun to form.

Over the following months your apartment became a hub of hockey players whenever there was a day off. They all swore that your tiny apartment had felt more like home than there own places, and that you made the best food which apparently was a lethal combination to you ever getting any alone time. You didn’t mind though. There was something about the way they filled your life that made it feel complete.

It wasn’t just cozy nights in, but they were dragging you to their games and for a night out at the bar. Soon enough you found yourself a part of the entire group. It wasn’t just Brock, Elias, and Quinn but now the rest of the team and the girls had taken you in. You were spending almost as much time with Holly and the other WAGs as you were your favorite boys. There were days though that you forgot you were just a friend, and the life you were getting to live wasn’t truly yours. Eventually the boys would find girlfriends and you would start being invited less and less. Until that happened though you were going to take what you could.

----- i -----

The boys had been whispering about a charity event for weeks now knowing that it was important. Whenever it was brought up your heart tugged a little more for them considering how important doing something good for the community was to them. There was something special about the boys and how much they loved your city.

“So Brock finally found a girl to drag to the charity event,” Elias tenderly nudged his best friend as you returned to your living room with a bowl of popcorn as you took your seat beside Quinn again.

“Oh?” you asked them raising your eyebrows, “Should I be afraid you guys are replacing me as your favorite girl?”

Quinn had reached over grabbing a handful of the popcorn when Brock had opened his mouth. “I don’t think Huggy could ever replace you. So you don’t have to worry about that at least.”

You couldn’t help yourself as you glanced over at the boy in question who seemed to be glaring daggers at your mutual friend, but you knew that eventually you would be replaced even by him.

“That’s okay. I’m sure whichever girl you two replace me with will end up being my best friend when they realize they have to deal with you two,” you teased as you dropped your head on Quinn’s shoulder listening to the laughter that you managed to pull from him.

You wouldn’t admit to anyone, but Quinn was your favorite.

A few hours had passed since all of the jabs had been thrown away, and the boys were absorbed in whatever movie Elias had settled on finally. You excused yourself quietly from where you had been settled on the couch pressed against Quinn’s side in order to get yourself a fresh drink.

What you hadn’t noticed was the defenseman also standing up and following you to the kitchen watching your every move as you refilled your glass before took notice of his presence. You shook your head mostly to yourself as you looked over at him again, “Did you want some water too?” You asked him quietly as you raised your eyebrows.

“No, I actually had a question for you though,” he admitted as he awkwardly leaned against the counter across from you as he reached up to rub the back of his neck.

You decided to cross the small space and lean beside him as you looked up at your friend worried about him. “What is it?” You asked him curiously as you brought your glass to your lips taking a small sip.

“So I uh- I know you probably have plans for that weekend, but I was wanting to see if you would you know---come with me to the charity event? As friends?” He stammered out as he looked down at his feet unable to meet your gaze.

If he had he would have seen the wide smile that spread across your lips. Of course there was some disappointment in the friends comment, but you knew that you would have a lot of fun being on his arm. “Of course I would love to go with you, Quinn.”

The smile that he had returned when he looked up at you was worth any heart break you would have just being his friend.

----------

You knew that there was no reason for the butterflies attacking your stomach. Quinn had always made it quite clear you were nothing but his friend, but that never seemed to calm them. Your eyes ran over your own figure once last time as you took in the simple black dress that you settled on for the charity event. You had decided the more simple you went, the more Quinn could stand out and tonight was about him after all.

Before your own mind could rope you into a spiral there was a knock on your front door pulling you out of your thoughts as you reached for your clutch and moved to pull open the door. You felt the way your stomach dropped while you watched Quinn let out a low whistle taking in the deep plunge of your dress and the high slit up your leg.

“I don’t think anyone is going to notice I’m even there when you look that beautiful, Y/N,” Quinn reached for your hand placing a delicate kiss along your knuckles before pulling you out of the apartment and to his side.

The ride to the venue had been a comfortable silence between the two of you while you listened to the radio, but the quiet changed when you walked into the hall. It didn’t take any time before you found yourself roped into hugs and high fives with your friends.

“Okay hotness,” You heard Holly joking from behind you before she pulled you into a quick hug herself, “I might have to upgrade tonight if Bo doesn’t behave himself!”

Her words had you laughing brightly as you looked back over towards her husband where he was standing with Quinn. Everyone in your lives knew just how smitten the two of you were with each other, but making the two of you see it yourselves was another story.

The evening flew by with Quinn’s hand nearly constantly on the small of your back keeping you close to him while he talked to the big wigs and front office people. It was interesting to watch him seemingly in his element with you at his side when usually he was far more nervous.

It made you happy though to see him be so confident in himself the way he deserved to be. You knew more often than not that he tended to get into his own head and not see the man you, and everyone around you, saw.

It was getting late and the room was certainly thinning out when Quinn pulled you fully into his arms resting them tightly against your waist. “I was thinking we can ditch this place and maybe do a movie night? There’s a new one I wanted to see if you’re interested?”

You moved to wrap your own arms over his shoulders responding with a bright smile, “A movie night with just my favorite guy? I think I could handle that.” The words had passed your lips in a slur. Perhaps you had one or two too many drinks but Quinn just shook his head. He didn’t mind if you let loose if it meant you had fun.

It didn’t take long for Quinn to sweep you into your own apartment while you were giggling. You knew you had to get it together long enough to at least put your own pajamas on. You found yourself standing in the middle of your room trying to unzip your own dress.

Which was how Quinn found you once he had changed into a pair of sweats and a tee shirt he kept stashed in the spare bedroom for late nights that tended to turn into early mornings. “Do you need any help with that?” He asked you curiously as he leaned against the doorframe watching you.

You pouted as you finally dropped your hands to your sides, “It hates me. This dress is never ever coming off, Quinn. I’m going to have to live my entire life in this dress!” You exclaimed dramatically while you watched your best friend shove off from where he was and cross the room to you.

“Not that it would be the worst fate for the rest of us if you’re stuck wearing that dress, but I can rescue you,” he assured you as he slowly reached for the zipper tugging it down until it came to it’s resting stop. “There you go, beautiful.”

You watched in disappointment as he stepped out of your room to go to the living room to wait for you. You couldn’t focus on your own feelings though as you moved to change into a comfortable pair of pajamas before taking your make up off before joining Quinn on your couch.

You dropped your head to his chest as you settled in enjoying the feeling of him covering you with a blanket you always kept on the couch. “What movie did you settle on?” You asked him quietly not bothering to look at the screen.

“Beauty and the Beast,” Quinn admitted running his hand through your hair as you finally turned your attention. You knew that he had decided on that movie specifically for you. It may not be your favorite movie, but it certainly was a top contender.

You knew that you wouldn’t last too long, but before you knew it you were asleep in his arms. While it certainly wasn’t the first time that you fell asleep in Quinn’s arms. It was your favorite place to be and it never got old.

When the morning came you found yourself carefully tucked into your bed with a note left on your nightstand to text your best friend when you actually were up for the day.

---- ii ------

Months had passed since the charity event with nothing changing in your life. More often than not your favorite troublemakers were filling your living room still. Whether it was another movie night or the boys playing video games; they made sure you never felt like you were missing anything.

Even they couldn’t hold off on the inevitable though. Eventually summer would come and the boys would be back home with their families leaving you alone in Vancouver until they’d return for training season. You tried to be excited for the boys, but you weren’t looking forward to months on your own after the months on end of constantly having someone around.

If you were honest though you knew that you weren’t ready to say goodbye to Quinn even if it was only for a few months. Of course you would miss your other troublemakers too. Brock always knew just to have you laughing, and Elias always knew when you needed a quiet moment away from everyone. But neither of them compared to Quinn.

You were trying to enjoy the playoffs with the boys, and really whenever you blocked out the idea of being alone it wasn’t too difficult to actually have fun. You found yourself taking your typical spot for the warm ups near the ice beside Holly. “Nice jersey,” she teased glancing over at you with a warm smile.

You brushed it off with your own smile knowing that Quinn tended to enjoy whenever you wore the jersey to his games calling it his good luck charm. You knew that it never meant anything considering he probably would say it to any friend that he had it just so happened any friends he had in Vancouver besides you was on his team.

The Canucks went up 1-0 in their series that night, and Holly wasn’t hearing any of the protests that you tried to voice as she drug you through the tunnel. You knew that it would lead to the locker room where the rest of the WAGs and family were waiting to see their players, but you also knew that deep down it wasn’t where you belonged. If you even dared to voice that thought though you knew that you would have an entire hockey team hell bent on proving you wrong so you kept it to yourself.

You were leaning against the brick wall watching as the team started to slowly come out. “Y/N!” Brock yelled as he came over swooping you up into his arms as he spun you around earning a warm laugh while doing so.

Once you found yourself on solid ground again everything else melted away. You were there celebrating your friends’ win and nothing else mattered. A much quieter, “Hey” came from behind you causing you to spin around to face the person who had spoken up.

“Quinn!” you exclaimed moving to hug him tightly not noticing the jacket that was fisted in his hand as his arms came around you to hug you just as tightly. You didn’t miss the way he had held you there for an extra moment before the two of you had broke apart.

Quinn had started to say something when Brock came up swinging an arm to rest on the defenseman’s shoulders with a mischievous smile as he looked between the two of you. Quickly Quinn had shut down as you raised your eyebrows in Brock’s direction.

“So what do you have there in your hands, buddy?” he asked curiously his full attention on the nervous brunette instead of on you. That was when you finally noticed the jacket in his hands and felt your own heart squeeze. You would know a WAG jacket anywhere considering the crowd that you ran with, but it didn’t make any sense. You would have known if Quinn had started to see someone, and they were reserved for just the wives and girlfriends.

You watched as Quinn suddenly couldn’t meet your gaze while a flush of color raised to his cheeks. “I was just---I mean I know,” he slowly stammered out clearly full of nerves, “It’s just you spend your time at games with the wives and girlfriends--I just didn’t want you to feel left out. So I had them make a jacket for you to wear--as my friend,” he finally managed.

As his friend. You felt your heart sink at those specific words that he made sure to add so that you couldn’t even be given the hope that it could be more. You did your best though to keep the hurt from your face but when your gaze flicked to Brock who was thankfully the only one there to hear your heart being twisted. He shook his head though at the words knowing what an idiot the two of you were if only you would see it.

You did your best to snap out of it though as you took the jacket from him with the best cheerful smile you could fake. “Of course I’ll wear it, Quinny. As your best friend.”

What you didn’t know though was hearing you call yourself just his best friend was twisting at his own heart too. It was a dangerous game he was playing with his own heart, but he wanted to take anything that you would give him.

----iii----

It wasn’t the boys’ year to lift Lord Stanley. They had a couple of good wins, and a lot of close ones, but it hadn’t been enough to move past the second round that year. Elias was the first one to leave claiming that he was in dire need to see his family had been more than fair. Brock wasn’t too far behind him which left you and Quinn alone in the city for a few days without your friends hanging around.

The first day had been spent on the water front enjoying the feeling of the warm summer air on your skin while you walked around. The second day had been spent packing what he needed to head to his parents’ lake house. Now it was the day before he took off and you had locked yourselves away in your apartment curled up together on the couch while you binge watched whatever show Quinn had turned on. You found yourself tucked tightly in his side as you tuned out the show feeling anxious about what tomorrow would bring.

You were sure that he was able to read that something was off about you, but he didn’t mention it seemingly content in just being there with you. You didn’t realize though that he was just as anxious as you were. He wasn’t ready to be away from you for months when he barely got through being away on a roadie. Which was why he had asked his parents if he could bring you, but he knew that you had your own family and your own life to live in Vancouver. He couldn’t just whisk you off for a summer on the lake with his family. Even if it was where he thought you were meant to be.

You felt the way that he tangled his hand in your hair as he shifted in order to be able to look down at you. “You should come with me to the lake house, Y/N. At least for a week. My parents were asking to see you again. I know you have your own thing going on here, but I--I’d like it if you were there. You’re my best friend after all.”

“Quinn,” you stated as you adjusted in order to prop yourself up on your elbow to be leaning over him with a smile as you studied his face, “Are you trying to say you don’t want to be without your best friend even for a little bit?” You asked him knowing that your own parents were spending the summer with your grandparents in Seattle.

“I haven’t been without you since October,” he grumbled mostly to himself as his hand dropped to your shoulder. “But I think you would have fun with us. I’m sure your family will want to steal you away though now that classes are over too.”

“Actually my plans for the summer were to sulk around the city missing my favorite boys. So if your mom really won’t be put out by having another mouth to feed I think I can squeeze in some Hughes brothers time.” You already knew the answer though knowing that his mom would have personally dragged you onto the plane herself.

You had met his parents a few times when they had visited during the season, and even had the chance to meet both Luke and Jack. You adored each member of the Hughes family considering you saw so much of the man you loved in each of them, so spending your summer surrounded by them certainly wasn’t going to be putting you out in any way. You also knew that each member of the Hughes family would be over the moon to have you there. Mostly Jack and Luke loved having any reason to pick on their older brother, but his mom enjoyed seeing her son happy. If you only knew the conversations they had about you.

You loved hearing Quinn’s laughter. It was something you often had to fight for, but whenever you were rewarded with it your heart went soaring. “It’s actually adorable that you think my mom wouldn’t choose having you there over me.”

A few days later you found yourself sitting on the dock in a wooden Adirondack chair soaking in the sun with Quinn’s mom while the boys were along the shoreline each with a fishing pole in hand. You couldn’t hear their conversation but every once in awhile one of them would start laughing. There was something about watching Quinn enjoy some bonding time with his brothers that wedged it’s way into your heart.

“I’ve never seen him so happy,” his mother’s voice pulled you from your own thoughts as you looked away from where your eyes had been settled unsurprisingly on an all too familiar defenseman. “I’m glad you came. I know it means a lot to him.”

“I’m just happy to spend the summer with you all. I was preparing for a very lonely few months in Vancouver,” you admitted even though you knew the moment he learned that was your entire plan he would have figured something out. You were just happy with how things were now.

Ellen leaned forward in her chair as she smiled warmly, “He would have never allowed that to happen. You’re the most important person in his life, and I’m just lucky I have two other mama boy’s now so I’m not completely replaced.” She was joking considering how much it warmed her heart for him to have you.

“I’m sure we will both be replaced eventually when the right girl comes along we will both be replaced. Hopefully she’ll be good enough for him,” you mused quietly. You knew though that no girl would ever be good enough for him.

You completely missed the way she was looking at you. You both could say that everything you did was just as friends, but she knew better if only you two would see it.

----iv----

The summer had flown past you in a blur of sun filled days, and before you knew it you and Quinn had returned to Vancouver just in time for your next semester and his training camp to start. Despite every concern you had the previous spring you and your friends had fallen back to your old routines. Your apartment was still the place to be when they needed comfort, and they drug you out whenever they thought school was consuming you more than normal.

There had been a change though. Quinn had somehow become even more physically attached to you than he had before the summer on the lake. You weren’t sure how it was possible, but he managed it somehow. His hand always seemed to find it’s way just under whatever shirt you were wearing to rest against the skin on your waist, or rest on your bare ankle whenever your feet were in his lap. It was as if he needed the skin on skin contact.

All too soon October was upon you with the crisp chill air and the leaves falling from the trees. Personally you never found Vancouver more beautiful than you did when autumn hit. Between the hockey schedule and your own classes it wasn’t always easy to find a full day off, but they had a Friday off and you had all agreed that you needed a night out to let loose.

You had settled on a simple black body suit with a pair of leather pants. You weren’t aiming to find someone to take home when you got dressed, but you knew that at least you looked good if Brock’s teasing wolf whistle or Elias’ spinning you around was any indication.

The bar top was full making it nearly impossible to get the attention of the bartender on your own. That was until you felt a hand on the small of your back before flagging down someone. Of course being a popular face in Vancouver tended to make sure you weren’t ignored. Quinn didn’t spare a look your way when he placed an order for your favorite drink earning him the happiest smile from you. There was something special about the fact that he remembered what you enjoyed.

“Thank you, Quinn,” you muttered against his shoulder as you glanced up at him noting how his eyes had shifted over to you as he smiled in return.

“Anything for you,” he murmured in return as his hands played with the ends of your hair. “I actually had something to ask you anyways and getting you a drink gave me a chance.”

“Oh?” you asked him as the bartender slid your drink over to you before moving along. You knew anything that he asked you that you would do what you could in order to make it happen for him. You were wrapped around his finger in the same way he was around your own.

With his free hand he reached up in order to rub the back of his neck seemingly nervous although you couldn’t place why. “I realized that there’s only one Saturday before the end of the month that we both are free. And I was thinking maybe we could go to the pumpkin patch? Y--you know as a friend. I just---I know you love the pumpkin patch and i really wanted to go enjoy one together this year.”

It felt like your heart was warming up in your chest as you listened to. Pumpkin patches had always had a special place in your heart so it meant a lot to you that he even remembered that and wanted to go with you. “Of course. Although I do demand that you get me an apple cider while we’re there.”

“I think it’s something that I can manage,” Quinn agreed as you were roped back into your friend group again for the rest of the evening.

The next morning had come far too soon with a pulsating migraine that had you groaning into your pillow. You remember up until rejoining the boys at the table and being dared into a few shots with Brock, after that it was a dark blur but when you rolled over you noticed a glass of water on your nightstand. A smile tugged tenderly at your lips knowing that Quinn had been the one to make sure you made it home safely.

You gave yourself a few more moments in bed before you forced yourself away from the warmth of your blankets in order to get ready. You settled on keeping things simple as you slid your favorite knit sweater and skinny jeans on knowing you would rather be warm than to focus on your looks. After all it was just Quinn and while you always wanted it to mean more you knew it never would.

You weren’t sure how long had passed as you tried to tame your hair and throw some simple make up on your face when you heard a knock on your door. “Give me a second!” You called out putting down the brush you were using before rushing to the door.

You knew that you couldn’t help the smile on your face when you saw Quinn standing there with two cups of coffee in his hand. “I took a guess that a pumpkin patch day meant pumpkin spice latte for you?” He asked you keeping his voice low as he held the cup in question out to you.

You didn’t even hesitate to take the cup from his hands. “It’s almost like you know me better than myself,” you teased as you took a step back into the apartment. “I just need to put my shoes on and I will be ready to head out.”

-----

Feeling the chill of the air surround you as you studied each pumpkin wanting to select the perfect ones to take home with you, by which you meant the ones that would be over looked and needed just to be loved by you. It was the same exact reason you got the saddest looking tree every Christmas. Brock always argued that they didn’t know the difference, but Quinn always encouraged your need to give your love to the ones who needed it the most. Whether it made a difference or not, because it made a difference to you.

“Are any of them calling your name yet?” Quinn asked as he slipped his hand around yours. It wasn’t uncommon for the two of you to find ways to cling to one another, or even to hold hands, but it always felt new. The butterflies that erupted in your stomach always took your breath away.

You tried to keep things casual though as you shrugged your shoulders, “There’s a lot of them that I feel like could use me but I haven’t found the ones that need me just yet.”

“Then we keep looking,” Quinn offered always having patience in spades for you especially if he knew that you were going to be happy.

It was only fifteen minutes later that you finally found the perfect three to take home with you. With the brightest smile on your face you didn’t even fight Quinn as he paid for the pumpkins. Anything that had you looking that happy was worth any dollar amount to him.

---+i---

You were standing at work waiting for a fresh cup of coffee to brew. You weren’t sure if it was your third or forth cup of the morning, but between the lack of sleep the night before and what essentially had felt like everything at work turning into a dumpster fire before your very eyes. There was no telling if you would be surviving the next hour with your sanity much less making it to the end of the day and your only hope to do so was with coffee. Unsafe amounts or otherwise.

What you hadn’t expected was for your best friend to surprise you. It was almost like Quinn had a special sense of when you were stressed out and one of his magical hugs would be your saving grace. You weren’t sure of the magic or science behind it, but you were grateful for it.

You felt a pair of strong arms wrap themselves around your waist holding you to a familiar chest. “There you are beautiful,” he murmured quietly against your hair before he finally let you go so that you could turn around to face him.

“Ah yes so shocking I’m at work during my usual hours,” you teased him as you stepped away from his hold. You never could trust yourself so close to him, but today you were feeling especially at risk to just pull him down for a kiss. With everything going on around you he was your one constant.

It had been obvious to you for the last few months that you were in love with your best friend, but as in love as you were you knew that he didn’t return those feelings. All you were to him was his friend, and at least you had some part of him in your life.

He didn’t allow you to go very far though as his hands settled on your hips pulling you back towards him. He had a smile on his face that you had never seen before, but you realized quickly that it was your favorite of his. “Well okay you have a solid point. I just figured that you needed a movie night tonight, but I figured I could make dinner for you. I just wanted to see if there was any special requests?”

You couldn’t help the way your eyebrows scrunched together as you tried to figure out what was going on. “I could always go for some pasta, and I feel like that might be something that can turn out edible. I love you but I haven’t forgotten about the time you tried to make me breakfast and we had to air out my entire apartment all day.”

In Quinn’s defense he did at least look bashful at the reminder of that morning. You still remembered the squeeze of your heart of affection seeing him trying to make you food. It had meant the entire world to you that he had even tried to take care of you even if it hadn’t turned out the way that he had planned.

“Okay so that wasn’t my finest hour, but I’m really going to impress you tonight. I promise,” he had left quickly with a fast kiss to your forehead so that you could return to work. Although you weren’t sure if you would be able to focus on what was going on around you when your entire focus on what was happening in your apartment.

Every day you couldn’t wait until it was time to leave for the day, but today it had been nearly impossible to make it through everything you had to before you left. You couldn’t rush any faster to your apartment reasoning with yourself that it was just to make sure that it was still in one piece and not on fire, but you knew that it was just to see what Quinn was up to.

You had barely opened the door as you called out for your best friend, but the first thing you had noticed was the fact that it seemed as if your apartment was shadowed in darkness. For a moment you began to think you mixed up what apartment you were suppose to meet at but it was always your apartment that you hung out at. It was that moment that you had noticed the flicker of candles.

Candles. As you stepped farther into the apartment you noticed that there had to be almost a hundred lit candles around your living room. “Quinn?” You asked hearing the question in your voice.

You eyes finally settled on him as he stepped out of your kitchen wearing a look that you hadn’t seen before. “I--I’ve been wanting to ask you on a date for so long, Y/N. Not as a friend, but as more. And every time I chickened out. But tonight I’m not. I planned an entire Harry Potter movie marathon with your favorite candies. I even made sure to find some new fuzzy socks with your house crest on it, and I bought some new blankets to curl up under.” Everything he said was quickly worded as if it wasn’t out there fast he wouldn’t be able to get through it. “So what do you say? One date as more than friends?”

You didn’t bother with a verbal response as you reached up to finally kiss your best friend allowing your lips meld together. It was everything you had dreamt it would be and somehow better. “I can handle way more than one date if you’re interested in that.”

His smile lit up as he leaned in resting his forehead to yours, “I’m absolutely more than interested in more than just one date, Y/N. I’m interested in everything with you.” Quinn leaned back in pressing a deeper kiss to your lips sealing your future together with it.

#Quinn Hughes #Quinn hughes imagine #Quinn Hughes imagines #quinn hughes x imagine #quinn hughes x imagines #vancouver canucks imagine #vancouver canucks imagines #vancouver canucks x imagine #vancouver canucks x imagines #nhl imagines #nhl imagine #nhl x imagine #nhl x imagines #hockey imagine #hockey imagines #hockey x imagine #hockey x imagines

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p1nkwitch · 3 years ago

Note

Oohhh may I ask. About your arranged marriage WIP? 👁👁

Boy do i!!!

There is one thing i love and that is Elias being jealouse, cause usually one think oh- Peter should be jealouse to feel lonely.

But not, give this beholding evil bastard a taste of his medicine and make him truly feel it, make him squirm!!! I want him to go politely rabid at someone for trying to steal what is his. Because Peter is, he is the one he marries every time and the one who will ultimately kill him.

So? Arranged marriage, Peter and Elias divorce but this time it is due to an awful, awful fight. Peter leaves to the Tundra and when he comes back his family intercepts him and brings him to Mooreland.

Weeks later Elias finds out that Peter is getting married.

....

To someone else.

Cue absolute madness and fury because how dare they ?! Also its a play on Elias feelings and him accepting that ok, yes he loves Peter and maybe divorcing is not nearly as fun, maybe just maybe he wants to stay togehter and treat him better if it means this never happens again. It is also a way for Peter to be like i am very unhappy, Elias treats me bad sometimes but now i have to marry someone i dont want and i am miserable. Despite everything i love Elias but clearly he doesnt love me back, not enough, which he thought was ok, but hey turns out its really not.

I need to pick back on this onw cause it has a lot of fun things to work with that i love deeply.

“Yes Peter, i know, once you tell me what Nathaniel wanted you can propose again, albeit i would want a dinner first” That's when he notices how he shifts uncomfortably.

“No Elias. I'm not going to be marrying you” It takes a moment to comprehend his words. He swallows down the threatening tone and instead speaks as calmly as if he was in a meeting or talking about the weather.

“Is that so? Who may you be marrying then?” Peter blinks a few times and looks everywhere in the room. If this is an attempt to make him regret the divorce its going to go poorly. This was a very insulting joke.

“My mother and uncle have agreed that I should keep the Lukas line alive, therefore I need a wife. Since we divorced they figured it was the right time for me to settle down. Arrangements have been made already” You could hear a pin drop in the silence that followed that statement.

Elias' face remains unchanged, yet he was currently wishing violent acts against Anna and Nathaniel.

“That is ridiculous, we have fought before, this is not our first divorce, they have no claim over what you do-” Yet Peter shakes his head.

“I-” It takes a few seconds for him to come to a conclusion, because the next words that come out of his mouth make Elias' blood boil. “I am tired of being kicked out everytime you are in a mood. Its lonely, yes, but it is starting to wear me down Elias. I will marry, I just figured you should know by me rather than Simon or my family. I will pick up my stuff from the apartment and… I'm taking Captain with me” The cat.

He is taking the cat.

“No” Peter looks for the first time, rather angry.

“Its my pet, those are my things. I'm picking them up and you won't have to see me ever again, i won't bother you anymore, i won't cause you to flip out for every little thing. Its over Elias. At least i got to go out with my life, im fairly sure i cant say the same about all the other Lukas you fucked over the years” Elias had been holding a pencil, it snaps in half whne he says that.

“How dare you-”

#flurby gets an ask #ahhhhh i love this one!!#i really need to go back to it #i wrote like six pages this feels like it would be a long one

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bqstqnbruin · 4 years ago

Text

I hate it when you make me laugh, even worse when you make you cry

All I’m gonna say before this is 😈😈😈

Read the whole series: I hate the way you talk to me and the way you cut your hair // I hate the way you drive my car // I hate it when you stare // I hate your big dumb combat boots and the way you read my mind // I hate you so much it makes me sick, it even makes me rhyme // I hate the way you’re always right // I hate it when you lie // I hate it when you make me laugh, even worse when you make me cry // I hate it when you’re not around, and the fact that you didn’t call // But mostly I hate the way I don’t hate you, not even close, not even a little bit, not even at all

Flashbacks are in italics

____________________________

“Why do you think?”

“Come on. Tell me.”

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

Your first night in Calgary was supposed to be spent unpacking yours and Evelina’s new apartment, having spent the entire day lugging boxes and furniture up and down the stairs, not wanting to constantly hog the elevator with your endeavors. You were both exhausted, but apparently she wasn’t exhausted enough to not insist you go and explore your new home.

“Come on!” she whines, practically ripping your arm out of your body in an effort to pull you off the couch, “You know that you want to go wander around! Why can’t we just do it tonight, we’ve spent all day in this building anyway.”

“Ev, we are gross, and we are tired. We shouldn’t go out,” you tried to counter, even though you knew she was going to eventually wear you down into going out.

“How are we going to make friends! We can’t go into work on Monday only knowing each other!”

“I love you, too, Ev.” She got up off the couch, her hands clasping under her chin as she juts out her bottom lip. She was right, though: you knew no one in the city and probably should make some sort of effort to change that before you start your new jobs. “Fine. But this doesn’t mean I have to have fun, and we aren’t staying out past midnight.” Evelina starts bouncing up and down in excitement, dragging you to her room so you can start to get ready. “And we have to stay in either tomorrow or Sunday and seriously get to unpacking.”

Both of you start rummaging through the boxes, tearing them open in hopes that one of them will contain clothing that you can wear to go out. “How am I this unorganized?” Evelina asks, tearing open what she thought to be her tenth box, none of them having clothing.

“I don’t think you want an honest answer from me,” you laugh, resulting in her throwing a pillow at your head. “Ok, hey!” you say, throwing it back. “I have my clothes in a few suitcases. Should we raid those and see if we can find anything?”

She laughs, opening another box, “Y/N, I love you, but you have nothing that we would be able to wear out. Your clothes are either business or athletic, and there’s no in between.”

“I’m sure we can find something,” you mumble, knowing she was right.

“No need! I found some clothes!” she said, dumping the box out on her bed. She thrrew a shirt at you, telling you that you were wearing it or else you would be doing all the unpacking yourself. Shooing you off to go clean up, she shuts you out of her room, left in the hallway surrounded by a bunch of boxes.

It’s not that the move was hard, but it definitely didn’t go as you had expected. You and Evelina were both excited for the fresh start, a new group of friends, a new city where no one knew you. Where you wouldn’t let anyone hurt you.

You were always ready much faster than Evelina, so you decided to start unpacking bits and pieces of your room. You open the box labeled ‘decorations’ figuring you could at least try to start to see where you might hang things up. On top in the box is the one picture you didn’t want to see: the picture of you, Evelina, and Thomas on the day before the spring semester of finals your freshman year. The three of you were sitting at a picnic table on campus, surrounded by your textbooks and notes, mid laugh at something Evelina had said, none of you knowing the picture was being taken. You had known him since you were little, the days of learning to swim at the community pool when you were toddlers being some of your only memories from that time. The school dances you brought each other to as dates instead of stressing about having to ask and possibly get rejected by whoever it was that you liked at the time. The nights in college where you would watch movies with each other and fall asleep with the movie running, Evelina coming home and finding the two of you on the couch with the tv on, all of you going to the diner the next morning.

He was your other best friend besides Evelina. He knew everything about you, probably more about you than Evelina did, probably more than you even knew about yourself. He was also in love with you without you feeling the same. The night you found out you and Evelina were moving, he told you that, begging you not to go and stay there with him. You told him you couldn’t and you haven’t talked to him since.

You didn’t know that you had packed it, you thought you left it in your closet back at your parents house. Evelina knocked on your door, letting herself in before you could hide the picture, “Hey, are you ready?” She sees you staring at the picture, tears threatening to fall as you think about the move that cost you your best friend. “Thomas?” You nod, shoving the picture in your desk, hoping that you would be able to look back at it one day. “That’s not going to happen again,” she tries to reassure you, pulling you out the door. “How many girls have their best friend fall in love with them twice?”

Evelina finds a bar down the street from where you live, walking there instead of paying for an Uber, thankful that you were able to take your mind off Thomas. And Evelina was right, wasn’t she? How many girls' best friends fall in love with them to begin with? So what are the chances of that happening twice?

You get to the bar, taking in the scene around you; a group of guys sitting in the back, some college girls trying and failing to get their attention, some other groups of people, everyone in packs except for you and Evelina. “We could go talk to them,” she says, trying to drag you over to the group of guys.

“No, come on,” you say, trying to resist her pull. Those guys were attractive and there was no way you were about to go up to them and just start talking to them like she wanted you to.

“Come on,” she says, ignoring your protest and dragging you in front of the guys, “Hey, I’m Evelina, this is Y/N,” she starts, “We just moved to the city and don’t know anyone.”

You hated how bold she could be some time, but were at least thankful they made room for two strangers to join them instead of you having to stand awkwardly in the corner, Evelina diving into the conversation with the rest of the group.

The boy next to you didn’t seem to be paying attention to her, just like you weren’t. There was something about him that you couldn’t take your eyes off him, his curly hair, the blue eyes, the stupid grin that was on his face. Whatever it was you saw in him, he found something about you that he couldn’t stop staring at. “I’m Matthew,” he whispers. You smile at him, the guys laughing and bringing your attention right back to the group.

“You don’t know who we are?” Elias asks Evelina, the rest of the guys looking just as shocked as he was.

“You count on us watching or following sports, so no.”

Matthew turns to you, seemingly ignoring the rest of the guys. “You know nothing about sports?”

“Well,” you start, feeling your face getting red. He was close to you, definitely trying to hit on you, but for some reason, it didn’t bother you like it would with other guys. “I know about hockey, a little bit about baseball, and then my dad is weirdly into the NFL so Sundays were spent with lots of yelling at his team, but I don’t have a team that I follow.”

The guys laugh around you, sucked into whatever it was Evelina was going on about. “Why don’t we get a drink?” Matthew suggests, getting up before you can say anything. He holds out his hand to you, taking you and dragging you to the bar. “So what do you know about hockey?” he asks you, sitting down on the stool as you took the one next to him, leaning against the bar as he orders something for both of you. You couldn’t tell if the muscle in his arm was popping out because he was flexing on purpose or because he couldn’t help it, but you were surprised his shirt wasn’t ripping at the seams the way it was being filled.

“You don’t want that,” you shake your head, suddenly a little embarrassed, “I just start rambling and it’s never good.”

He laughs, his eyes closing as his smile grew, forcing a smile on your face because of how infectious it was, “Two things will happen: I either zone out while you’re doing something that might make you happy, or I learn something while you’re doing something that might make you happy.” You hesitate, debating on if you should really tell him anything as the bartender brings the drinks he ordered you. “Come on.”

You roll your eyes, smiling at him as you raise your glass to toast to him. “You’re asking for this, Matthew.”

You dive into what you knew about hockey, knowing enough about the history of the sport no matter how dry it was, knowing some of the basic rules even though he had to explain what counts as goalie interference to you, though he didn’t seem to know himself. The last person who listened to you ramble like this was Thomas. You finish telling him, a wave of sadness washing over you at the thought of him. You bite your lip, looking down at your drink.

Matthew reached over to you, his thumb and forefinger tilting your head back up to him. He looked worried at the sudden change that came over you. “What’s up?”

You shake your head, scrunching your face as a signal that you didn’t really want to talk about it. But for some reason, with him, you felt you could. “Just kinda reminded of someone there.”

He studied your face, trying to get a read on what type of someone you meant. “A boyfriend?”

“No,” you laughed, a sense of relief falling on Matthew, “My best friend. Or, ex-best friend, now, I guess.”

“Well whoever they are, they’ve just been replaced.” You looked at him, confused. Before you could ask him what he meant, he started, “I’m your new best friend now. And you can’t tell me otherwise.”

You can’t help but laugh, forgetting about Thomas for a moment. “I think you’ll have to fight Evelina on that one.”

The guys and Evelina sat back at the booth watching the two of you talk with each other the rest of the night. Evelina couldn’t remember the last time she had seen you so animated, so happy to be in an unfamiliar situation.

“I think someone’s in love,” Elias took her attention away from you and Matthew.

“Y/N? No. She doesn’t let herself fall in love that easy. The last guy she dated I don’t think she said she loved him until they had been together for a year.”

“No, not Y/N,” Elias said, the rest of the guys nodding in agreement. “Matty there.”

Evelina scoffs. “No way.”

They watched as the two of you laughed so hard you could barely breathe, Matthew not taking his eyes off you even though you were pretty much doubled over. “Trust us. We could make a list of the ways we can tell that one is in love. And he’s doing all of them.”

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

“What are you talking about, ‘the list?’” you try to play it off as if you didn’t know what he meant.

“I know all about that list you were making with the reasons you hate me. I saw it in your kitchen on the fridge when I was over,” he lies, not wanting to drag Evelina into this.

“So what? You’ve known? And what have you been trying to do?”

“I don’t know, trying to convince you that you don’t hate me! Trying to make you forget about that list,” he yells, people around you stopping to stare at the scene you were causing there on the sidewalk. “You know you don’t hate me,” he whispers, take a step towards you.

“You don’t get to decide that Matthew.”

“What can I decide? Because if it were up to me then we would have been together after the night we met. It wouldn’t have taken this fucking long for you to get your head out of your ass to see what we have.”

You take a step back at the bite in his word, feeling the tears fall down your cheeks, your mind running rampant trying to figure out what all this meant. His words stung; you thought he was wrong. You thought everyone was wrong. There was no way this had all been there since you met him the night you moved to the city. “This has not been here since the day we met. That isn’t true.”

“You can’t tell me how I felt about you then, and you can’t tell me how I feel about you now. The one thing I have wanted since the day we met is to be with you,” he tells you, trying to fight back the tears, “And to find out that you were trying to deny that by thinking or stupid ways that you hate me? The way I cut my hair? My driving? You don’t even hate me enough to think of real reasons.”

You can’t find the words to say, pushing past him and heading down the street. You couldn’t take this. He was never supposed to find out about the list. You knew that you were overreacting, but he had no right to know about that. He had no right to spit that back in your face like he was.

“No, no, no,” you hear him say, Matthew stepping in front of you. “Look at me,” he says, his hands on your shoulders, shaking you. “How are you the one who’s mad here? You have no right to be mad at me for this.”

You look at him, swallowing hard. “I don’t? Now you don’t have the right to tell me how I feel. I gave you all of me, Matthew. You’re the only person I would ever let get that close to me. And to find out that you’ve been lying to me this entire time? You know what happened with Thomas.”

“Y/N, listen to me,” he starts, trying to get closer to you.

“No! Matthew, no,” you say, stepping away from him. “Whatever the fuck this was? It’s done.” You let out a sob, pushing past him and running down the street back towards your apartment, Matthew calling your name, watching you run away from him.

“Fucking hell,” he mutters, chasing after you. You were both aware of how this looked, two people running down the street, the one leading in tears while the one trailing was on the brink. “Can you please just hear me out?” he asks, catching up to you. “I saw this list and I panicked. How would you like it if I started listing all the ways I hated you and used those for reasons to not want to be with you?”

“You have reasons you hate me?” you say, not wanting to look at him.

He groans, running his hands through his hair and down to his face. “Of course I don’t. There is nothing that I could think of that you do that would make me hate you. But fuck, Y/N. Ten reasons you hate me? You know how I feel about you. You know that you don’t hate me. So why are you doing this?”

You knew he was right, crying at the fact that you went along with Evelina’s stupid bet. But that didn’t matter to you. “Because I didn’t want to date you.”

His Adam’s apple bobs up and down, his jaw clenched, clearly hurt by your words. “Then what is this? What have we been doing?”

“Nothing. You’re nothing more to me than my friend,” you lie, pushing past him. You knew he was going to follow you, no matter how much you didn’t want him to. This was just a stupid mistake. That’s all it was. This is exactly what you were afraid of happening when Evelina first brought it up and when Thomas had told you his feelings. You were going to lose him.

You get to your apartment, locking the door behind you. You press your back against the wall next to the door, sliding down and bringing your knees to your chest. This was just like with Thomas. This was worse than what happened with Thomas. You were reliving what was the worst day of your life, except now it was with another guy.

----------

“You guys are moving to Calgary?” Thomas asked you, sitting down on your bed. You had texted him that night to tell him you had to talk to him, him rushing over as soon as he could. “Why are you going there? You aren’t going to know anyone.”

“Well, we’ll make friends. We got these amazing job offers out there, Thomas, we can’t turn them down.” He won’t look at you, staring down at his hands with his eyebrows scrunched together. “Hey, what’s up?”

“Don’t go,” he let out, looking up at you. His eyes were shining, filled with tears that were begging to fall.

“What? No, I can’t do that. Evelina already found an apartment for us out there. We’ve already accepted the jobs.”

“Don’t go,” he said again, still not looking at you.

“Why?”

He closed his eyes, taking in a deep breath. “I’m in love with you. I always have been. You can’t leave.”

“Thomas,” you let out, trying to process what he just told you. “You-you’re my best friend, you can’t be in love with me,” you stammer out, trying not to panic even though you were doing a horrible job at hiding it.

“You don’t love me, do you?” he asked, a single tear rolling down his cheek.

“I don’t think I love you the same way you love me.”

He nodded, running his tongue along his teeth. “Awesome,” he laughs, pain in his voice. “Have fun in Calgary,” He got up, leaving you there on your bed as you tried to figure out what just happened.

“Thomas, wait!” you called after him, stopping him before he can open your door. “Where are you going?”

“I’m leaving. I can’t be friends with someone when I love them. Especially when they don’t love me back,” he said, pushing past you.

You stood in the doorway shocked at what just happened. The tears were falling down your face as you watched your best friend walk down the hallway, the last time you would see him.

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

You pull yourself up off the floor, heading to the kitchen to get some water. There was no way this was happening to you again. You couldn’t be losing yet another guy because he thought he was in love with you.

At least last time, you didn’t have the same feelings for him. You didn’t even know how you felt about Matthew. He’s your best friend, the guy you go to for everything, the one you spend all your time with. You can act however you want around him, say whatever you want to him. He’s the perfect guy for you.

Except that he’s been lying to you this entire time.

You hear the door unlock, hoping that it was Evelina. Whoever it was slammed the door, going towards the bedrooms. “Fuck,” you hear him mutter, freezing at his voice.

You knew he would follow you here. “Matthew?” you call, trying to figure out where he was in your home. “Matthew, get out.”

“No. We need to talk about this,” he yells from your room, trying to follow your voice. It wasn’t like your apartment was that big that he wouldn’t be able to find you in the kitchen. “I don’t know how many times I have to tell you this tonight. I want to be with you. Only you. I want you to be my girlfriend.” He finally finds you, slowly walking up to you as if he were afraid you would run from him. “Why don’t you want to be with me?”

You let out a sob, looking away from him. You knew he was hurt over this; you were too. “It’s gonna ruin everything.”

“That’s not a given. This could be so great. This already was so great.” You both stand there in silence, not sure what to say. “Do you want me to be your boyfriend?”

Did you? He made you so happy. There was no guy that you would rather be with. But he’s Matthew. He came into your life as soon as Thomas left, filling that hole that you left at home when you moved to Calgary. He was supposed to just be like Thomas, just be your best friend and nothing more.

He slowly lifts his hand to your cheek, the pad of his thumb whipping away the tears on your cheek. “I hate to see you cry like this, but Y/N, I need to know: what am I to you?”

“You’re just my best friend,” you tell him, his hand falling from your cheek. “You need to go Matthew. I don’t want to see you right now.”

“Y/N, come on.”

“Matthew, she said leave,” you hear from the door way. You both snap your attention to Evelina standing there, keys still in hand, your bag on her arm.

“Ev, you can’t be serious,” Matthew says, walking towards her.

“Out! Now!” she yells, both of you jumping at the sudden change in her tone. He looks back and forth between you and your roommate, panic washing over him. This couldn’t be happening to you two. “Do I have to fucking drag you out, Tkachuk?”

He finally leaves, Evelina rushing over to hug you as you crumbled in her arms, watching Matthew leave your apartment.

#matthew tkachuk #matthew tkachuk imagines #calgary flames #calgary flames imagines #nhl #nhl imagines #flames #flames imagines #hockey #hockey imagines

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wordsintimeandspace · 3 years ago

Text

All That Haunts Us (1/14)

Jon and Tim have seen their fair share of strange things while working in Research at the Magnus Institute. They still didn’t quite expect to rescue Martin, who has been missing for a year, from a supernatural encounter during one of their investigations. Together, the three of them hunt for answers and try to find a way forward, but they all have things that haunt them.

Meanwhile, Elias sees the perfect opportunity to set his devious plan into motion...

Jon/Martin/Tim, rated T, ~2500 words for this chapter. Read on AO3!

Tim plumps down onto the corner of Jon’s desk without much warning. After months of being friends with Tim Jon supposes he should be used to it by now, but he still startles a little, eyes shooting up from the book he’s been engrossed in for who knows how long. Tim sits there with his arms crossed over his chest, smiling down at him like he’s exactly where he belongs.

“Can I help you?” Jon finally asks, raising an eyebrow.

“Oh, I hope so,” Tim says lightly. “But first, I brought lunch.”

He sets a sandwich down in front of Jon. Jon blinks in surprise, and only now notices the rumbling of his stomach and the empty desks around him as everyone else in his shared office has gone out for lunch. “Oh. Sorry, we had planned to meet up, hadn’t we?”

“It’s fine. I don’t mind eating here.” Tim takes a bite of his own sandwich, as if to demonstrate. Jon wrinkles his nose as he continues talking, mouth half full. “Reading anything interesting?”

For a second Jon hesitates - out of all the people in the Research Department, Tim might be the only one to agree with him that ‘The Architecture of Cathedrals in the 15th Century’ is actually interesting. But based on the look in his eyes, Jon suspects he has something more pressing to talk about. “Nothing too important,” he finally says, carefully prying the wrapper away from his food. “What did you need help with?”

“I’ve been working on a case.”

Jon looks up from his sandwich - spicy chicken and cucumber, just what he prefers - and frowns. “The one with the cat, right?”

Tim heaves a melodramatic sigh. “Yes, the one with the lady who claims her cat got eaten by, let me quote, ‘a six foot tall monster with too many legs and teeth’. As if that’s the only logical explanation for an outdoor cat to go missing in London. Never mind, oh, I don’t know, cars and foxes and all that.”

Even as he tries to suppress it, Jon can’t quite help the grin tugging at the corners of his lips. “You sound like you had a bit of a week.”

“Oh, you have no idea. I called every vet and the animal shelter if they’ve seen any unusual injuries. And then I’ve knocked on every door in the area that has a cat flap and asked them if their cat has gone missing in the last year, and I scoured every possible missing pet portal on the entire internet.”

“... and? Did you find anything?” Jon asks when Tim doesn’t continue.

Tim throws his hands up, exasperated. “Of course I found something. Do you have any idea how many cats go missing every year in a city like this, entirely due to natural causes?”

Jon nods. “Okay, I get your point. This still doesn’t answer the question of what you need help with though.”

“Look, I just thought... if there is a monster like that - and I’m not saying there is - it’s big enough to harm more than cats, right? So I looked for missing dogs as well. And then, while I was on a roll and because I was terribly bored, I looked for missing persons.”

At that, Jon raises an eyebrow. He knows Tim is an excellent researcher, thorough in everything he does, but that seems to go even beyond his usual rigour. “You can’t possibly tell me you found an account of a person being eaten by a monster like that. Surely we would have heard of it by now.”

“No, ‘course not.” Tim rolls his eyes, taking another bite of his sandwich before he continues. “This has nothing to do with that. But what I did find was a missing person’s report from about a year ago, and several accounts from the last few months that the building where he used to live is haunted.”

Jon stills, looking at Tim with a frown. “That rather sounds like someone is making a crude joke.”

“At first I thought so too,” Tim says. “But the reports on the hauntings didn’t mention that a person went missing there. And the guy’s address isn’t even public. They couldn’t have known. I had Sasha dig that up for me, along with other details on the case. You know Sasha, right?”

Jon nods - he doesn’t think he’s ever talked to her, but even he can’t escape the Institute gossip when someone transfers from Artifact Storage to another department. And he’s seen her around Research by now, in the last few weeks. “I- yes. But… what kind of ‘haunting’ are we talking about here?”

Tim shrugs. “There seems to be a bunch of evidence. Recordings of hushed voices and weird noises, something like rustling? Blurry figures in the shadows. Cold spots.”

“I’m not sure I would count that as evidence.”

Tim lets out a long sigh. “Don’t be such a sceptic.”

Jon frowns. “It is our job to be sceptical.”

“Yeah, sure, but you have to admit it’s a weird coincidence, right? That this building where one person disappeared is supposedly haunted since then?”

Jon bites his lip. He trusts Tim’s instincts. And he can’t deny that there’s something off about this whole thing, even if he can’t put his finger on it. It happens sometimes, that a case just feels… wrong, he supposes. That it comes with a prickle of unease and a shiver down his spine, in a way that is too familiar to ignore. He wonders if Tim feels it as well, or if he just - for some unfathomable reason - wants to get out of interviewing even more cat owners.

“What do you want to do about this, then?” he finally asks, and Tim’s face immediately brightens.

“I want to go view the flat. There’s a rent advertisement online. Perfect opportunity for a bit of snooping.”

“Okay. And you need me for… what, exactly?”

At this Tim smiles - a bit mischievous, which is his usual expression, but also a bit bashful, which is a rare sight for someone as self-assured as Tim. Jon can’t help but feel a bit nervous about that, and reaches for his long cold mug of tea.

“I need you to pose as my boyfriend,” Tim says calmly, and Jon promptly chokes as he takes a sip.

“What?” he finally manages to get out as soon as he can breathe again. His cheeks are burning, but Tim just gives him a sympathetic smile and a pat on the back.

“You heard me. Come on, help me out there buddy.”

“But… why?”

Tim lets out a long sigh. “Look, I first tried to be honest, but when I called the landlord and mentioned the Magnus Institute he swore at me and hung up. The rent advertisement is just the backup plan. I need you to be with me and take over the speaking to make sure he doesn’t recognize me.”

For a moment, Jon can only stare at him. “I still don’t understand why I’d have to be your boyfriend. Can’t I be your flatmate?”

“It’s a one bedroom apartment. He’s not going to believe we’re flatmates.”

“What about Sasha? Can’t you ask her?” Jon asks, a bit helplessly.

Tim gives him a long look. “Jon, I’m trying very hard not to be offended that you really don’t want to fake date me, but you’re not making it easy.”

“I- I’m not-” Jon splutters before heaving a sigh. “I- fine. Fine. I’ll do it.”

Tim cheers, even as Jon glowers at him. “Oh, this is fantastic,” he says, rubbing his hands together. “I’ve always wanted to do something like this. Can I call you a pet name?”

Heat rises in Jon’s cheeks. He tries his best to glare even as his stomach swoops at the idea, for reasons he resolutely does not want to examine. “Absolutely not.”

“Hold your hand?”

“No.”

Tim lets out a sigh, crossing his arms over his chest. “You’re no fun.”

“This is supposed to be work, not fun.”

“I can multitask and do both at once, Jon.”

Suppressing a groan, Jon rolls his eyes at him, and decides to just move on. “When do you want to do this?”

“Okay, so, I need you to call to set up an appointment. We can-”

Abruptly, Tim stops. He goes still, the excited grin slipping off his lips. He’s not looking at Jon anymore, his eyes instead fixed on something behind him.

Jon whirls around in his chair, and startles when his gaze falls on Elias Bouchard, head of the Magnus Institute, standing in the doorway to his office. As usual, he is wearing an impeccable grey suit and a smile that never quite matches the piercing look in his eyes. Somehow, there’s always something unnerving about him, although Jon can’t put his finger on it.

“Um. Hello, Mr. Bouchard,” he starts slowly.

Elias’ smile widens just a little bit. “Jonathan. I’ve told you before, call me Elias,” he says smoothly. “And Timothy. Just the man I wanted to speak to.”

Tim winces and sits up a little straighter. “Of course. What can I help you with?”

Elias fixes Tim with a long stare that makes Jon squirm in his seat. “I had a rather unpleasant call with one Mr. Abbott earlier,” Elias finally says, raising a perfectly manicured eyebrow. “He complained that someone from the Magnus Institute asked to see one of his rental properties to investigate a case.”

“I’m just doing some regular follow-up, Sir,” Tim says, a bit defensively. Jon finally looks away from Elias towards Tim, and watches the crease between his brows deepen as Elias continues.

“Of course. I’m sure you were perfectly polite, Timothy. Mr. Abbott, however, was quite clear that he believes an investigation like this will hurt his carefully crafted image. And I just couldn’t help but wonder why you were contacting him when you were supposed to work on the… what was it, the case of Mrs. Mitchell, I believe? Regarding the disappearance of her cat?”

“Err. Yes, I-”

“Are the cases connected?” Elias asks, a sudden sharpness in his voice that makes Jon flinch. Tim’s mouth twists, as if he’s trying hard to suppress a grimace.

“I don’t believe so, no,” Tim says hesitantly. “I just thought-”

“In that case, I would advise you to focus on the work you were assigned, Mr. Stoker.” The tone in Elias’ voice makes it very clear that he won’t accept any objections. Nevertheless, the smile on his lips doesn’t falter. “We wouldn’t want to get any more complaints, would we?”

“I-” Tim stops himself, letting out a sigh. “Of course, Sir.”

“Since it seems you might have gotten bored with the Mitchell case, I’m sure you have already conducted all necessary research and can deliver the report to my desk by this evening. Or am I mistaken?”

Tim’s frown deepens, but he doesn’t protest. “Sure,” he grumbles.

“Excellent,” Elias says, the sudden sharpness in his voice gone as quickly as it came. He gives them both a short nod. “Have a good day, gentlemen.”

With that, Elias turns on his heels and walks away. He’s out of sight as soon as he turns a corner down the corridor, but still, Jon can’t help but stare after him. Beside him, Tim lets out a pitiful groan.

“This evening?” Tim buries his face in his hands. “I had until next week to do the report. I haven’t even started it.”

“I’m sorry,” Jon says with a wince. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

“Nah. Don’t think so. But thank you.” Tim looks up with a small smile and stands, wrapping up the remains of his sandwich. “I’ll best get back to work if I want to have this done by five.”

Jon lets out a small hum, but he’s still distracted by what just happened. Again, he stares down the corridor, as if Elias might reappear any second. He can’t shake the feeling of his eyes on him.

“Are you alright?” Tim asks. Jon startles a little and looks back at him. Tim is watching him with a quizzical expression on his face.

“Yes,” Jon says hesitantly, chewing on his bottom lip. “It’s just… that was strange, wasn’t it?”

Tim shrugs. “Yeah. But everything about Bouchard is strange.”

“I suppose. But this was...” Jon hesitates. This was more than strange, he wants to say. This feels like Elias doesn’t want us to investigate whatever is going on in that haunted flat. But that’s a silly thought, isn’t it? Jon shakes his head. “Nevermind. Good luck with the report.”

Tim gives him a pained smile. “Thanks,” he says miserably, and finally shuffles back towards his office.

That afternoon, as much as Jon tries to go back to his book, he can’t quite stop thinking. He can’t shake the feeling that something is wrong, in a way that makes him jittery and anxious and makes it impossible to focus on the words in front of him. He stays late to make up for it, and when he finally calls it a day, the other researchers that share his office have already left. Jon puts on his coat and grabs his bag, and goes to check on Tim.

The door to Tim’s office is still open, although all the desks are currently unoccupied. Tim’s desk is a bit of a mess, filled with piled up papers and books and too many empty cups of tea. With their earlier conversation about the case still on the forefront of his mind, Jon gives in to the temptation to step closer and skim through the texts scattered on the desk.

It doesn’t take long until his gaze falls onto what looks like the copy of a police report. Carefully, he pulls the paper out from underneath a book. It’s undoubtedly the missing person’s report Tim has mentioned. The address fits to the area of the case he was working on. Jon starts reading, and immediately stills.

It hits him suddenly that Tim had never mentioned the name of the missing person. Sometimes, it’s easy to forget that there are actual people behind the cases they’re researching. But there’s the name, right next to a photograph.

In the photo, Martin Blackwood is looking directly at the camera, a small smile on his lips. Jon takes a moment to take him in - the pudgy cheeks covered in freckles, the sad eyes, the light brown hair falling in soft curls around his face. An actual person, with a life and friends and family who must wonder what has happened to him after he disappeared a year ago. Who maybe still have hope that one day, he will come back.

So far, Jon was only a little irritated that Elias intervened in their investigation. Now, he’s suddenly furious.

Before he knows what he’s doing, Jon pulls out his phone and takes a photograph of the report. He places it back on Tim’s desk and leaves.

As he walks to the tube station, he pulls up the address on his phone. He takes the train that goes in the opposite direction of where he lives, changes trains twice, and finally, half an hour later, steps out into the chill September air. By now, it’s already getting dark. Jon pulls up the collar of his coat to protect himself against the cold, and begins to walk towards the haunted flat where Martin Blackwood disappeared.

#the magnus archives #tma #tma fic #jonmartim #jontim #my fic #my fic: all that haunts us #it's heeere #my very first tma multichapter #and actually my longest ever fic #that I actually edit and upload #I have an entire rough draft done so I think regular updates will be fine?

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normal-thoughts-official · 4 years ago

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magnus bane can cook anon here. also: cooking is a love language for raphael bc food is so rooted in community/family. they absolutely teach each other traditional recipes. big family meals hosted by father and son pls 🥺 or magnus making a comfort meal for himself when he's feeling nostalgic and inviting cat over for dinner bc she's been so busy and he wants to catch up while also making sure she's nourished--two birds, one stone (he absolutely makes her take home leftovers). let magnus cook...

ugh i know this ask is old but i'm not sure what you mean by "magnus bane can cook anon", like, if you sent me another ask about this, i didn't get it rip. unless it's something i have already answered and i don't remember, in that case i'm sorry

anyway, YOU ARE RIGHT! magnus being unable to cook is preposterous tbh, i will not listen to these lies. HE! IS! INDONESIAN! food is important! and as an immigrant in particular he knows that better than anyone because food is a way to keep connected to his roots, to his love, to his culture. i will not accept any "magnus can't cook" slander, he CAN! plus like you see the way he made alec's stew amazing?? yeah yeah he used magic but i doubt there is a "make this delicious" spell, he needed to have known WHAT he would have done to the stew, add this and this and that to alter the taste, so like? he knows how to handle himself in the kitchen okay and he knows what tastes good and what doesn't, he can cook

and he knows exactly how important food is as a love language and YES him and raphael!!!! i don't have to argue that raphael can cook of course, we all know he does, and again! immigrant! LATINO!!!!! food is so fucking important for latines in general, even non-immigrants, and i imagine that it is even more so for immigrants. it's part of your culture, part of who you are. and like! raphael has been unable to eat for so long! i bet he misses it so much and i think when he wants to thank magnus for something, food is the way to go

especially in the early years. he didn't have much he could have done for magnus when he was just a recently Turned vampire kid with nowhere to go and nothing to his name, but he COULD cook for him. and i bet he was ecstactic to. i hc that magnus grows his own ingredients at home because he simply doesn't trust gringo markets to have good food and while he can and will travel to jakarta every now and then to enjoy a good food market - again, it's an intrinsic part of his culture! of course he wants to go to those when he can, it's not just the food, it's the sharing and the experience - he also wants to grow his own food. plus i think he is attached to plants. you've seen the way he talks to snakes, you mean to tell me he doesn't have a bunch of plants he grows (both for potions and foods) and talks with and grooms and is all loving towards? nonsense. absurd. i won't listen to these lies

and YES i am projecting unto him but i don't care! magnus loves his little plant friends (they have been particularly therapeutic for him in the early years after camille i feel, when he was so lonely. of course he has his cats but cats aren't really fans of hanging out all the time and plants are always there and just looking at a plant you helped grow makes you feel so much better) and prunes them with so much love and care, and because of magic he can control the weather conditions so it's always ideal for them, and make sure they are well taken care of. but he likes to do it himself without the need of magic when he can, because it's all about bonding with the plants. and when he gets to literally take the fruits of his labor, well. it makes the food and potions even more special :)

actually i bet that it actually does make a difference for potions, like... when you know the ingredients and they have been grown with love and care and a connection to the warlock they are more powerful. because plants are living, breathing things that build connections, and magic connects all things, and also because i said so!

BACK TO COOKING

i think part of the reason we've never seen him cook tbh is just because it's so... intimate. like it requires opening up about his culture and his past and a part of who he is and how he feels is in a dish (as with every dish) so it's just... way more intimate and intense than just taking someone out to dinner or something. and most of his interactions in the show were with shadowhunters, whom he either doesn't trust for obvious reasons, or does trust (alec and izzy basically, maybe clary) but knows they don't really fully understand what it means to him so there's just too big a chance to feel like he wore his heart on his sleeve for nothing (i'm talking mainly about alec here cuz i don't think he'd cook for izzy or clary lol but i do think they're on his trusted or somewhat trusted list)

and with raphael it's just painful because raphael can't eat and that's a big thing that probably upsets him on the regular, like, it's another thing that makes him feel a- human; and b- connected to his culture. and when i say human i don't mean it as just "humans eat food", i mean it as in eating for humans is about socialization and self-expression and having that taken away from him makes him feel soulless

but that just makes raphael want to cook MORE! i mean we've seen him cooking for rosa('s nursing home) so that's pretty much canon anyway. and i have no doubts in my mind that raphael used to cook for magnus all the time. initially recipes he already knew from his mom and his abuela, because again, it's just... sharing who he is and almost like welcoming magnus as a part of his family, and magnus understands that 100% and probably cries the first time rapha makes him pozole or something (he knows it's rapha's comfort food and he's just had a hard day and he's tired and maybe a bit worn by depression and raphael makes it for him and he's just... so touched and overwhelmed by the immenseness of the gesture). and then magnus starts to tentatively teach him the recipes he remembers for his own mom and again that's just.... ugh the magnitude of that is incalculable. and rapha knows it too

and he's highkey nervous because he knows magnus hasn't really tasted this in so long and he doesn't want to butcher it, you know? and he can't try the food to see if it's good, he can basically only go by smell (which i figure he has perfected over the years but he's known magnus since the early years so that was probably harder by then) but magnus is just happy to have someone to pass this down to, you know? like he's cooked meals for ragnor, dot, cat, elias, etc., before (immortal squad dinner meetups where everyone brings their favorite foods from their childhoods and ragnor makes tea because no one is putting up with that shit <3) but passing the recipes on to someone else is a whole different deal, it speaks of their father-son bond and it's basically welcoming raphael into the family back, you know? and rapha knows

and from then on rapha starts cooking these recipes for magnus, particularly when he's feeling down or just as a thank you for everything he's done for him and aaaaaaaaaaa

and then of course eventually the potion that allows vampires to eat is created and raphael can FINALLY eat again and try all the recipes he's been making for magnus (and sometimes cat) for years!!! after of course the first order of business which is making himself some pozole and everything else he's been cooking for rosa and missing terribly. but AFTER he has his mexican feast they absolutely have one of these meetups again and everyone gives raphael a little something from their culture for him to try and it's just <3 beautiful and i need a moment

AND CAT YES. we all know cat is overworked to death and magnus will NOT put up with it. and food is a love language so you know <3 half the time she will get home and find some little delivery packages from magnus, dot, ragnor, elias, raphael, or all of them (lol) with food because they know sometimes she gets home too tired and skips dinner and she SHOULD NOT. and they all have little notes like "i've sealed it magically so it's still hot, enjoy <3" and it's just sweet okay

and then there are the dinners... not just the super big dinners they all have together where everyone cooks something but sometimes just cat and magnus in magnus' loft and magnus makes her something, including some recipes she's taught him, and he absolutely makes extra and he's not even subtle about it because when is he ever ("*presenting cat a industrial-sized pan filled with food* oh, guess i miscalculated how much we'd eat" "really, magnus?" "yes") and makes her take the leftovers and she's just grinning at him the whole time and gives him a little kiss on the cheek for his troubles. then they sit down and drink wine and gossip and have fun until the tension has left both of their shoulders and they feel recharged. and cat might sleep there or might go back home the same day but either way when they have to part they trade "take care"s and catarina has this huge smile on her face as she takes thousands of conteiners filled with food, and magnus has that soft smile that he gives her, and aa <3

#sh #shadowhunters #magnus bane #raphael santiago #catarina loss #brotp: i'll do whatever it takes to protect them #brotp: comfortable shoes #immortal squad #ask #anonymous #q #long post

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laurenairay · 4 years ago

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Decorating Disaster - J.Markstrom

Summary: what could go wrong with a little competitive holiday baking with your boyfriend Jacob?

Word Count: 1.7k

Warnings: some bad language, a lot of cute fluff, too much glitter…and he’s on the Flames. Sorry K 😅

A/N: fully in my winter holiday feelings! ❄️ This one is for @danglesnipecelly – I hope it warms your grinchy heart 😘

“Hey älskling, are you busy?”

You looked up from the magazine you were reading at the sound of your boyfriend’s voice, shaking your head with a smile. You’d only been reading it in the first place because Jacob had popped out to the grocery store – but now he was back…with multiple bags?

“What are you planning?” you asked, raising an eyebrow at his big grin.

“Nothing!” he said cheerfully, pecking a kiss to your cheek as he whirled past you into the kitchen.

Okay now you knew he was up to something.

“I don’t believe you in the slightest,” you teased, hopping up on the counter as he put the bags down next to you.

“You wound me!” he gasped, clutching dramatically at his chest, making you giggle, “I just thought we could do some baking together this morning,”

What?!

“Baking. You want to bake,” you said dryly.

“Yeah! It’s a fun holiday activity to do together!” Jacob grinned, ignoring your confused expression as he started to rustle through the grocery bags.

You put your hand on top of his to stop him. Seriously, what is he doing?

“J, you don’t even like baking. You purposely steered clear of the kitchen when I made pepparkakor with your mom last year. Why do you really want to do this?” you mused.

Jacob’s grin faded, and he rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. Hah, you knew there was a real reason.

3…

2…

1…

“Tanny told the Flames about my last disaster baking attempt and they were all teasing me – I told them that I’d been practicing with you and I was way better than him now,” Jacob admitted.

What a little liar!

“But you haven’t been practicing with me,” you pointed out, trying to stop a grin spreading across your lips.

“Yeah I know…Tanny didn’t believe it either, and he said that I should prove it. Gio turned it into a team group challenge as bonding…but I need to do this!” Jacob sighed.

“So you want to bake…because of a dare?” you snickered, “to save a reputation that is a lie?”

Men. Seriously.

Jacob just grinned, nodding at you. And then that grin turned into a hopeful smile. Oh no. Absolutely not.

“Ohhhh no, count me out,”

“Please? There’s no way Tanny and the others won’t have help too!” Jacob pleaded, “I already know that Elias and Annica are planning on making cookies together!”

Damn those puppy dog eyes.

And if it would make Jacob feel better in front of the team…

“Fine, you ridiculous man. Let’s do some holiday baking,” you sighed fondly.

Jacob whooped and scooped you up off the kitchen counter in his arms, swinging you around in a circle, making you squeal. When he eventually put you back down on your feet, he pressed a firm kiss to your lips, making you lose your breath even more. Wow. Yeah, anything for him, if that was the reaction you’d get.

“Thank you älskling. This is going to be fun, I promise!” Jacob grinned.

“I believe that when I see it,” you giggled.

Now that this was a competition, rather than the fun activity he had initially suggested, you knew Jacob was going to be a nervous mess. There was no way this was ending well. But hey, it would be good teasing material, if nothing else.

“I thought we could do gingerbread men? That way we can get extra points for decoration,” Jacob suggested, “I would’ve said gingerbread people, but there was only the male stencil cutter at the store,”

Fair enough.

“Very strategic, I like it,” you teased.

To be fair, it was a good plan. And meant you could get more creative with it too. Jacob just blushed. “I picked up so many options at the store. Like, all of the decorating options. So there’s lots to choose from,”

“Let’s get the gingerbread going first – we can decide what decorations we’ll do when it’s in the oven,” you mused.

“See, this is why I need your help!” Jacob grinned.

You couldn’t help but grin back. So adorable.

“Alright, let’s find a recipe and get started…”

Making the actual gingerbread took so much longer than it should’ve done. It didn’t make things any easier that one of the ‘competition rules’ was that everything had to be filmed for judging by an impartial panel (aka coach, coach’s wife and the team nutritionist) – so there was way more pressure that you would’ve liked. Jacob almost didn’t sift the flour, would’ve resulted in lumpy batter if you hadn’t corrected him, and he very nearly put sea salt flakes in instead of sugar, which you only just about saved in time. Not to mention the pieces of egg shell he’d dropped in that you asked him to carefully take back out. Each time he looked a little more dejected at the mistakes he was making, but there was no way you were giving up on this. He wanted to do this together, so he was damn well sticking with it. Especially since you were in the competition video too – it was a matter of pride now.

Instead, you put his strong arms to good use in the mixing, which cheered him up a bit (and gave you some excellent eye candy, even if you were sure the video would catch you watching appreciatively), and in the end the dough didn’t turn out looking too bad. After cutting out the figures using the shapes that Jacob had bought, you put the gingerbread men on the trays and into the ovens. And you made sure to set a timer when they were finally in the oven. If they burnt at this point, you thought you would actually cry.

“Is it time to decide on decorations now?” he asked hopefully.

“Definitely!” you nodded.

Jacob grinned and quickly washed his hands before sitting down at the kitchen table, making you laugh. You washed your hands and joined him, Jacob pressing a quick kiss to the top of your head that made you blush.

“So the gingerbread men will need to be in the oven for 15 minutes, then we take them out and let them cool in the pans for 10 minutes, before turning them out onto those wire racks you found to cool completely,” you explained.

“And then we decorate?”

You rolled your eyes fondly at your boyfriend, nudging his shoulder, earning a nudge back. “Yes, then we decorate. Although with all of this stuff you bought, I have no idea where to start,”

Like, seriously. There were so many little packets of candy as well as tiny little piping bags of colourful icing (that must’ve come from a kit) – honestly way too much stuff – but just one look at Jacob’s face showed you that he had a plan. Oh this should be fun.

“I was thinking…the colourful chocolate buttons for their tummies, with the blue, green, red and yellow icings for their shorts which we can then pair with the matching edible glitter on top. And then gummy drops for the eyes, with a white icing smile?”

The hopefulness in Jacob’s voice meant there was no way you were countering any of that – and as it was, it all sounded like a great plan.

“Shall I do the icing parts, and then you do the placement of all the candy plus the glitter?” you suggested.

“Sounds like a plan!” he grinned.

The two of you washed up the mess that you had made so far while you waited for gingerbread to cook, only devolving into a water fight once, ending in some sweet slow kisses (that Jacob promised would be edited out of the video before it was shown to the team), and by the time the gingerbread men were cool enough, you could tell Jacob was getting impatient.

“Remember take it slow and steady – they need to look good so you win the competition,” you murmured into his ear, quietly so the camera wouldn’t pick it up.

Jacob blushed slightly but nodded, counting the candy into piles as you started the first of the icing. To be honest, they looked alright. Nothing was burnt, they were all the same size and shape, and they smelled amazing. So you were happy – they were going to taste good at least! And with your little line process with Jacob doing separate tasks to you, the decorating was taking on good shape.

But there was one thing that you were worried about. The edible glitter. Everyone knows that glitter is almost impossible to get rid of if it spills anywhere, and with Jacob’s track record, you were hesitant. But he was so excited about adding that extra winter magic to the gingerbread men that you ignored your concerns and let him get on with it. It would be fine, right?

Time to put your nerves to the test. Jacob yanked on the lid of the edible glitter, but it wouldn’t budge. As he gripped the vial and the cap with both hands, pulling as hard as he could, you felt a bad omen coming over you. But before you could say anything, the cap suddenly flew off of the glitter vial…

…and the glitter exploded everywhere.

You burst into laughter, burying your face in his shoulder at the astonished look on his face. Glitter was all over his hands, shirt, jeans, the floor and the poor gingerbread man. Holy shit.

“Oh my god,” he gasped, eyes wide.

You were still giggling as you sat upright, tears at the corners of your eyes. How did you not see this coming?

“We can still save this little guy,” you choked, picking up the figure and tapping the excess glitter off of him onto the table, “and luckily you bought so much glitter that we still have another couple of vials,”

“I’m not going to live this down, am I?” he sighed, although the laughter in his eyes made you feel better.

“Probably not, that’ll probably make some kind of bloopers reel at the very least,” you grinned, “But it was only the first one, so there’s plenty of time to make up for it!”

Jacob just grinned back at you, pecking your lips in a kiss before standing up. “I’ll go wash up, and we can try again?”

“Sounds good to me,” you nodded.

Even if your gingerbread men didn’t win the competition, even if the team teased Jacob for the glitter explosion, you wouldn’t trade these memories for anything. This was going to be a holiday time to remember forever, you just knew it.

#my writing #lauren writes winter #i hope you enjoy this K!#marky being adorable AND competitive? sign me up!#jacob markstrom #jacob markstrom fic #jacob markstrom fanfic #jacob markstrom x reader #jacob markstrom blurb #nhl writing #nhl fic #nhl blurb #hockey writing #hockey fic #hockey blurb

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ladycatofwinterfell · 4 years ago

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Raindrops, snowflakes, sunshine, part 4

Summary: Catelyn meets a northern boy in her algebra class during one of London’s many rainy days. Initially she doesn’t expect much, but this boy brings her a surprising amount of sunlight.

@leialannister and I discussed Scandinavian Starks and I realized I really wanted to write a fic so that’s what I did. Swedes depicted in media makes this Swede happy, and NedCat also makes me happy so why not combine it and publish him for everyone to see?

A sigh escaped her when she finally put the cookies in the oven. That had taken a lot longer than she had expected it to. She glanced at the clock, maybe she would have to message Ned and tell him that she would be a bit late.

“What are you baking?”

Elia came into the kitchen and opened a cupboard to take out a glass.

“Chocolate chip cookies with peanut butter” Catelyn replied.

“Any chance I can get one when they’re finished?”

“Absolutely. I made too many anyway.”

Either she was baking for a country or for one small child, she could never make anything in the right amount. That day she had apparently decided to bake for all of London. But that was good, then she could leave some at home and bring some to Ned. Taking up her phone she quickly wrote him a message about that she would be a bit late. She had planned on starting to bake earlier, but then there had been some obstacles. The obstacles were that she had promised Cersei to paint her nails and do her hair for her date. Which she didn’t regret, Cersei had looked awesome when she was done.

“Can you make too many cookies?” Elia asked.

She opened the fridge and took out a carton of orange juice.

“I can only bring so many to Ned without looking like a crazy person.”

“Who’s Ned?”

Had she never told Elia his actual name? She guessed not. He was known as the Swede in their household, Ashara and Cersei exclusively called him by that name.

“The Swede.”

“Ah, I guess your date went well, then” Elia said, smiling.

“It wasn’t a date, we’re not dating.”

“Whatever you say. Ash told me you wouldn’t talk much about it, so I figured it didn’t go well but if you’re baking for him it can’t have been too bad.”

“It wasn’t bad at all, he’s really nice. I like him.”

“So why not date him?”

Catelyn sat in a chair at the kitchen table while Elia poured her juice.

“Because I’m not interested in him in that way. He’s cute, I can admit that, but no.”

Elia just shrugged and put the juice back into the fridge before leaving the kitchen again. Catelyn wasn’t baking because she was interested in him, she had just been walking around feeling guilty about that she had nothing to give in return for him teaching her to draw. So she had decided that the least she could do was bring him some homemade cookies. It didn’t feel enough, but it was something. She started gathering up all the things she had used so that she could clean them, but just after she had filled the sink with water her phone started buzzing. She cleaned her hands and walked to take her phone, expecting it to be Ned, but instead her uncle’s name was on the screen.

“Hello, Uncle” she said.

She had been calling him twice a day all week to find out what that phone call from Edmure had been about, but he hadn’t answered her. She had almost believed he had got into an accident, but her father had assured her that Uncle Brynden was just fine. He hadn’t known what it was about though, and he hadn't known why Brynden wasn't answering his phone.

“Little Cat, good to hear your voice!”

She put the phone on speaker and picked up the dish brush, beginning to scrub away remains of cookie dough.

“You could have heard my voice much earlier if you had taken my calls” she responded.

“My phone died and I lost it, but my husband found it behind a shelf earlier today so now I could call you” Brynden said.

Catelyn had to keep herself from laughing.

“How did it end up behind a shelf?”

“Believe me, I would also like to know that.”

“Alright. Edmure said you wanted to know if I would be home for Christmas, can I ask why you wanted to know that? You know I always come home for Christmas.”

“I thought of visiting you soon if not, but now when you’re coming home for Christmas I can wait until spring.”

None of her family members had come to visit her in London, she had just gone back home. Which made sense, but she still wanted to show them her life there. She would have insisted he come before Christmas if she had not had an exam coming up. She wouldn’t have much time to spare, and if he was coming to London she actually wanted to be able to see him and do things.

“You’ll have to promise you’ll come this spring. I would love to finally get to show you how I have it here.”

“I promise. Might bring Edmure too, the boy is eager to see London.”

Edmure had never been to London. When she thought of it she didn’t think he had ever been outside of Ireland.

“You should bring Edmure. It’s about time he gets to see something different.”

“A shame it’s London and not a good city.”

She didn’t like Britain, and she hated what they had done to her country. What they had put her people through. But she had nothing against London in particular. It was a okay place to live and she had made great friends there.

“London isn’t bad, he’ll like it.”

“Of course he will, the boy has no taste.”

“He’s a child” Catelyn chuckled.

“He’ll always be like this. You're a lot like your younger self, I can still see much of little Catelyn Tully in you.”

“Well, you still call me Little Cat so I figured that.”

She stopped what she was doing when her Uncle didn’t answer her. She waited a few seconds to see if he would, but her phone was silent.

“Hello?” she called.

Then she heard Brynden’s voice. She couldn’t make out what he was saying, he clearly wasn’t talking to her. Had to be his husband, he probably had to go. She didn’t have time for a long phone call anyway, so that didn't bother her at all.

“The husband insists it’s time for dinner” he informed her. “So this is farewell for now.”

“There’s no need to talk like it’s the 18th century and you’re going on an adventure at sea, just say goodbye like a normal person.”

“Life is a lot more fun if you see it as an adventure. Therefore I’m telling you farewell for now. Until next time, Little Cat.”

A smile appeared on her face.

“Goodbye, Uncle.”

The phone clicked as Brynden ended the call. Catelyn finished the dishes in silence, listening to the music coming from the living room and Ashara and Elia’s laughter. Often she dreamed of getting her own place, but in moments like those she really liked sharing a flat. Despite that it didn’t have a balcony. She took the cookies out of the oven to let them cool before she would put some in a jar for Ned. And as expected the two other women swept in like vultures.

“Don’t touch them, you’ll burn yourselves” Catelyn warned as she turned her back on the cookies to see if she could find a jar.

She was sure if that she had at least one somewhere in the back of a cupboard. Behind all that other crap they never used. She dragged a chair over and stepped up on it to be able to reach the top shelf.

“Ouch, fuck, goddamnit!”

Catelyn didn’t have to turn around to know that Ashara was jumping around, holding her burned hand to her chest. Her first words were followed by a sentence in Arabic that Catelyn strongly suspected just consisted of more swear words. Elia was laughing and a moment later the tap was running.

“Oh my poor darling” Elia chuckled.

“Told you” Catelyn said calmly.

To her triumph she found a jar. It was ugly as sin, the psychedelic flower pattern was enough to give her a headache, but it was what she had and it was a lot better than nothing.

“Yeah, but I didn’t think they were so fucking hot!” Ashara howled.

“I just took them out of the oven, what did you expect?”

“Not this!”

She rolled her eyes. It wasn’t the first time it happened and it probably wouldn’t be the last. Every time she baked either Cersei or Ashara burned a hand. No matter how many times she warned them of the heat.

“Leave the kitchen and come back in fifteen minutes when they have cooled down a bit, I promise they’ll still be here.”

“Sounds like something someone who’s planning to take the cookies away would say.”

“Just go.”

Ashara pulled a face at her before leaving the room closely followed by her girlfriend. Finally, inner peace. Half an hour later Catelyn left with half of the cookies. She had a suspicion of that the rest would be gone by the time she was back. If Cersei came home before her they would definitely be gone. But she was happy that liked what she made them. That was all she could contribute when it came to food. She didn’t even bother swearing over that the lift was still broken. She just took the stairs. It had already been dark for two hours when she stepped outside the building. She hated it. Autumn was nice, things were very pretty during autumn, but the cold and the darkness she could do without. Catelyn had been surprised when he asked if she wanted to come over to his place. They had been talking about meeting up again, and Catelyn had assumed maybe they would go for another walk or something like it. But then Ned had said that she could come to him if she wanted to, so that he could honor his promise. She was breaking a lot of safety rules when it came to meeting new people by seeing him in a private area so soon, so she hoped he wasn’t a serial killer. She had given both Cersei and Ashara his address so if she went missing they would know where to start looking. But she was very sure of that she would be fine, he was a good person. She was still nervous when she arrived at his building though, but for a completely different reason. She didn’t know what reason, but she sure was nervous. What was up with her? Why couldn’t she just go over to her friend’s place without feeling like her heart would make it’s way out of her chest. It was ridiculous. She was ridiculous. All of it was ridiculous. The building’s door required a code to be opened. She didn’t know the code, Ned hadn’t said anything about that. She took up her phone and texted him.

Code?

His answer came just a second later. It made her happy to know he had been waiting for her.

I’ll be down in a minute

Less than a minute later she saw him come down the stairs through the glass panels in the door.

“Hey” he said after having opened the door.

“Hey. Sorry I’m late.”

“No need to apologize. You’re here now, aren��t you?”

They began walking up the stairs.

“The house doesn’t have a lift” Ned said. “Sucks when you have groceries.”

Catelyn couldn’t hold back a smile at that. The house had four floors, how bad could it be? She guessed it was sort of a problem if he lived on the top floor, but that was still less than what she was used to.

“What floor do you live on?”

“The third.”

“Not to belittle your struggles or anything, but I live on the sixth floor and we have a lift, but it never works. That sucks.”

“Wow, I take back everything I said.”

When they reached the third floor there were three doors. One to the left, one to the right, and one right ahead of them. He opened the right one and then gestured for her to enter before him. He held the door open for her as she walked inside and she found herself in a small hall. Only a shoe rack and a coat hanger fit in there. Past that was a small flat, consisting of only one room and door that lead to what Catelyn guessed was a bathroom. Directly to her left was a very clean kitchen, across from it, on her right was a neatly made bed. Ahead of her on the right was a couch and a TV, and across of that was a round table with five chairs around it. On almost every flat surface there was a plant, on the window sills more than one, giving life to the otherwise white and grey room. A lamp above the table was on, but apart from that the place was only dimly lit up by smaller table lamps and fairy lights. All the walls had some sort of art on them, ranging from sketches to full paintings, the only exception was where the bookshelf was. The bookshelf didn’t seem as organized as the rest of the flat, she found no pattern, and books that didn’t fit in it had been placed in piles on top of it. The scent of coffee and something sweeter filled the air. Maybe it came from one or several of the flowers, maybe it was the laundry detergent he used, maybe it was something completely different. She didn’t know, but she liked it. It wasn’t large, but it felt so much like a home. One was immediately hit with the feeling that someone had made that small area their own. She had been in homes where it was clear that the owner only used it as a place to sleep, but so was very much not the case with Ned’s home. And best of all, he had a balcony. She would have killed for a balcony.

“Welcome to my humble home” he said, closing the door behind them.

“I love it” she responded in complete honesty.

“It turned out a lot better than I initially thought, it didn’t look very nice when I moved in.”

“One has to trust the process. And that balcony can’t have made things worse.”

“It faces an alleyway, the view is terrible.”

She didn’t care what the view was, it was the balcony itself that made her happy. Though of course she wanted her future balcony to have a nice view if it wasn’t too much to ask for. She put her bag down, and took off her shoes and her coat. She liked the shoe rack, she would have to raise the question of getting one for her own home with Cersei and Ashara.

“We don’t have to draw if you don’t want to, but I thought I would at least present the option" he said when he went inside before her.

She noticed that there was a bunch of papers and pens on the table. She also noticed that Oden was sleeping underneath it. She hadn’t seen him at first, but she smiled when she did. She didn’t think she had ever smiled at a dog.

“I’m eager to learn every little thing you have to teach me.”

“Amazing, where would you like to start?”

A class where she got to make her own curriculum, how nice.

“You said you’re good at drawing people, right? Can you teach me to draw a face?”

He sat by the table and pulled out the chair on his right.

“That shouldn’t be impossible.”

Catelyn sat next to him and they began. She believed he had said that he wasn’t a very good teacher or something close to that the previous time they had met, but she heavily disagreed. With patience he guided her through everything, redid stuff half a hundred times just so she could see it and understand. After a while the table was covered in drawings of facial features and faces from different angles. It was easy to tell which ones were his and which were hers, but she wanted to believe she was improving. And Ned said she was, he came with much encouragement. But she came to a point where it didn’t feel like it. She had trouble getting lines straight, it looked very shaky.

“I can’t get it straight” she sighed in frustration when she tried for what had to be the tenth time to get a nose right.

Ned studied her drawing and her hand for a moment before answering.

“You need to relax your hand, you’re too tense. It makes you shake.”

“I am relaxing my hand!”

He put his pen down and scooted his chair closer to her. At first she didn’t understand what he was doing but then he put his left hand over hers, gently helping her adjust her hold in order to relax her hand. Maybe she should have been focused on trying to get it right, but she was mostly focused on keeping her breathing steady. He was close to her. He was very close to her. She could smell his cologne. And he was essentially holding her hand. She kept her eyes downwards, tried to do what he wanted her to do, but she was positive her heart was going to stop.

“There you go” he said. “Try now.”

“Okay” she said, hearing that her voice was a higher pitch than usual.

She hoped he didn’t notice. She tried to keep her hand steady despite that she was shaking a lot more than she had been before.

“It looks better now, doesn’t it?” he asked.

“Yes.”

Both of them jumped in their chairs when the door opened. In stepped a man who somewhat resembled Ned, they had the same hair color and the same facial features, but he was taller. And very attractive. Catelyn had to stop herself from looking at him too much and instead turned her gaze to the dog he had with him, another German shepherd, who seemingly didn’t have Oden’s calm temper. He pulled on his leash, wanting to come over to where they sat. She hoped he would stay right where he was with that dog, she had a feeling of that she wouldn’t like it as much as she liked Oden. Oden immediately left his spot at their feet and walked to lie down in a corner of the room, clearly wanting nothing to do with the other dog. Catelyn realized that she had instinctively tensed up, so she took a deep breath and forced her shoulders down. It was just a dog. Except for that it wasn’t. It was a scary dog, and she could feel her pulse go up.

“Vad gör du här?” Ned sighed, scooting his chair away from her again.

It made a loud, scraping noise. Not like when he had came closer to her.

”Jag skrev att jag tänkte komma förbi, men du svarade inte” the man said with a shrug.

Catelyn wasn’t sure of what she was going to do, and as usual she didn’t understand a word of Swedish. She assumed he was Ned’s older brother, as they looked alike and both spoke Swedish.

“Det fanns en anledning till det” Ned said, annoyed by whatever it was that his brother had said.

But the brother didn’t seem to hear him, he instead looked at Catelyn and smiled.

“Didn’t think I’d ever see you again” he said.

She had never seen him before, what was he talking about?

“You must be mistaking me for someone else, we haven’t met” she said. “I’m sorry.”

He laughed.

“I’m not mistaking you for someone else, you don’t forget hair like that. You have nice hair.”

She tried to remember when and where she could have seen him. They didn’t have class together, she would have known if she was in the same class as Ned’s brother. Had she met him at a pub? She never got drunk enough to not remember people she had met. Was he a friend of a friend? That seemed like the most plausible explanation. She would have to ask around about that.

“Thank you, I suppose, but I have to apologize, I don’t remember you.”

It was embarrassing. She didn’t believe that had ever happened to her before, she usually remembered people. Though at least she wasn’t blushing.

“Then I won’t be the one to remind you, let’s start over” he chuckled. “I’m Brandon, the better looking one. I never got your name last time so what’s your name, sweetheart?”

“Men för fan, Brandon, bete dig!” Ned said firmly.

“Language, little brother” Brandon said. "And I am behaving."

She assumed Ned had told him to behave with a swearword thrown in somewhere. She didn't know which word it was though.

“He has a point, you’re being a bit of an arse. So please replace sweetheart with Catelyn next time, that’s my name.”

“That’s prettier than sweetheart anyway.”

He didn’t seem to be that sharpest knife in the drawer, it sounded like something out of a book on how to compliment women. But he was good looking, and maybe he was better after one got to know him.

“Thank you” she said once more, twirling her pen between her fingers.

“Vill du ha henne eller kan jag ta henne?” Brandon then said to Ned. “Hon är snygg.”

”Vad är det för fel på dig?” he responded in an exasperated voice. “If you didn’t want something important can you please take your dog and leave?”

“Du behöver inte bli sur” Brandon said, raising his free hand into the air.

“I’m not, but you’re being inappropriate towards my friend and Tor really upsets Oden. So can you leave and come back tomorrow?”

“Varför på engelska?”

“Because Catelyn doesn’t understand Swedish.”

“Du pratar inte med henne.”

“No, but she’s here.”

Catelyn certainly was there. She was also thoroughly confused. She had no idea about what Brandon was saying, and she had no idea about why Ned was talking about her. It almost would have been better if she didn’t understand anything at all instead of only getting bits and pieces.

“Look, I’m free tomorrow, you can come back then. Men nu skulle jag uppskatta om du lämnade oss.”

Brandon studied his brother for a moment, then he grinned.

“Absolutely. Godnatt.”

”Godnatt, Brandon.”

Brandon and his dog, who she assumed was named Tor, left and the door shut behind them. She had to do a lot of assuming as she didn't understand much. Oden stayed right where he was, his gaze fixated on the door like he was expecting Tor to break back in. She understood him.

“He’s most often not like that, I’m sorry” Ned said as he got up from his chair and walked over to sit by Oden on the floor. “I won’t excuse his behavior, but I want you to know that he can be nice.”

Oden immediately placed his head in Ned’s lap, but kept his eyes on the door.

“Mind if I sit with him for a bit?” he asked. “He gets stressed around Tor. They’re from the same litter and Tor partook in the puppy bullying that went one when they were little.”

“Puppies are so small and cute, how are they capable of bullying?” she said.

“Kids are small too, and they still bully each other.”

“I guess. Still hard to wrap your head around it. I mean I get it now, that was a scary dog, but a puppy?”

“Are you afraid of dogs?” he asked, surprised.

How could he be surprised about that? She had believed that she had clearly shown him that she was afraid of dogs.

“They have lots of sharp teeth, they make loud and sudden noises, large ones can easily kill you, it’s not really my thing. Oden is fine though, he’s very polite.”

Ned chuckled.

“More of a cat person, huh?”

Catelyn looked him dead in the eye.

“If you make one single cat pun I will get up and leave” she threatened.

“Based on the look on your face it feels like you have heard them all already.”

“I have heard them all. Multiple times. I doubt anyone can come up with a new one at this point. They aren’t worse than the fact that an ex used ‘Kitty’ as a nickname for me through.”

She had learned to accept KitKat, she would never learn to accept Kitty. She hated it, she was a grown woman and didn’t want to be referred to the same way one referred to a cute kitten. Luckily no one else had used that nickname and she thoroughly hoped it would stay that way.

“I take it you prefer just Catelyn, then?”

“Or Cat. I don’t mind Cat, it’s short and easy to spell.”

People never seemed to spell her name correctly on the first try. There were simply too many ways to spell the way her name was said. People often replaced the C with a K and threw in a couple of i’s for good measure. So sometimes it was easier to just go by Cat.

“I get it, often it’s easier to go by a shortened name.”

She snorted.

“Your name is three letters and super easy to spell, you don’t get to complain.”

Ned laughed at that.

“I always go by Ned, but it’s not actually my name. My name’s Eddard.”

So she had been right, Ned was short for something.

“It’s a nice name.”

“You said that about my dog too, so I don’t know what to believe.”

Had she? She had no memory of what she had said upon learning Oden’s name. It had been weeks since that. But he was probably right.

“You both have nice names, that’s all there is.”

“Thank you.”

She left her pen on the table and stood up.

“Do you want cookies?”

He shrugged.

“Cookies are good, but I unfortunately don’t have any. I would have got some if you had said you wanted it.”

“No worries, Eddard Stark” she said as she went to get her bag from the coat hanger. “I can supply the cookies.”

She pulled out the jar and went back to the table.

“Did you bake?” he asked, raising his eyebrows.

He got up from the floor.

“I hope you don’t have any severe allergies because I really don’t want to kill you, and I also hope you like chocolate chip cookies with peanut butter because that’s what I baked.”

“Sounds amazing. Can I make you some tea to go with the cookies?”

“Absolutely.”

Catelyn sat at the table again while Ned walked to the small kitchen.

“You know you didn’t have to bake” he said as he took two mugs out of a cupboard.

“I wanted to give something back to you for inviting me into your home and trying to teach me to draw. And I’m good at baking, so I thought I would bake you something” she explained.

She picked up her pen again, once more put it to the paper and tried to get the shading on the nose right so that it didn’t look so flat. Very softly she moved the tip of the pen, and found that she managed to keep her hand steady while doing so. Maybe he had managed to get something into her head, after all.

“I really appreciate it, thank you” he said and she heard him fill a kettle with water.

“It was the least I could do.”

She stopped for a moment to look at the paper in front of her. That actually looked like a nose. It wasn’t nearly as good as what he had done, but it was the best nose she had ever managed to draw. Maybe her pride was childish, it wasn’t a big accomplishment, but she really hadn’t expected to do so well. She could feel herself smile.

“What kind of tea do you want?”

“Uhm, preferably something fruity, if you have it. I like sweet teas.”

High on the feeling of success she moved onto the eyes of the person on her paper.

“Fruity? That’s not very British of you” he responded.

“I know, it’s a conscious choice. Drives one of my flatmates mad.”

Cersei refused to drink sweet teas. She only drank black tea and Earl Grey. Nothing disgusted Catelyn more than Earl Grey. She was also sure of that Cersei only refused to drink other teas out of spite. She was a very proud Brit when it came to tea.

“Is she British?”

“Yes, a born and bred Londoner. My other flatmate is from Morocco, so the British are outnumbered in my home. She’s very strict on the tea though. We’re working on humbling her, but our attempts so far have been unsuccessful.”

“It’s very hard to humble a Brit, I’ve tried.”

“Do you have any advice for me?”

“No, because I failed in epic proportions. He’s still the same.”

She looked up at him. He stood with his back to her, pouring the hot water into the mugs. She wondered who he was talking about. She would have liked to ask, but it didn’t seem like he wanted to talk about it. Whoever it was was probably a lot like Cersei. She loved Cersei, but she sure was a handful at times. Especially when it came to her Earl Grey.

“We have a word for this in Swedish” Ned said.

“You have a word for trying to humble Brits?”

That was unreasonable and way too specific. He laughed.

“That would be ‘försöka göra en brittisk person ödmjukare’, which is a sentence and not a word, but that’s not what I meant. I meant we have a word for sitting down with someone to eat a pastry or something like it and maybe drink something.”

That mad a lot more sense.

“And what’s this word?”

“Fika. Most people do it daily. We have breaks at work for fika.”

"Is that a verb or a noun?"

"Works as both. You can fika, but you can also sit down for a fika."

“That’s brilliant, there should be an English word for that.”

“One of many things I miss from Sweden.”

She turned her gaze downwards again, but found that she didn’t have the same luck with the eyes that she had had with the nose. She tried to do what he had showed her, and she looked at everything he had drawn out for her on a different paper, but she just couldn’t get it to work.

“You’re doing very well.”

Turning her head up she found him standing right behind her, leaning forward slightly to see better. And for some reason she could once more feel her heart racing in her chest. And that time he wasn’t even touching her. What was wrong with her?

“Thank you” she said.

That time she managed to keep her voice normal, so that was always something. Ned put her mug down and sat next to her again. Catelyn opened the jar and offered him a cookie before taking one herself.

“I hope you like them.”

She raised her cookie in a cheers before taking a bite. She couldn’t know what he thought, but she was more than happy with the result. Those were some tasty cookies, if she could say so herself. And based on his reaction he seemed to like them as well.

“These are really good” he said. “Like, really, really good. Screw drawing, can you teach me to do this?”

Catelyn tried to keep herself from smiling as she had her mouth full, but found that she was unable to do so and raised a hand to hide her mouth.

“This isn’t even my best, you should taste my carrot cake. I make a killer carrot cake.”

“I love carrot cake.”

“Me too.”

He paused for a moment before smiling.

“Do you want to hear a word that’s even more brilliant, but that doesn’t exist in English?”

“Definitely, share your Swedish wisdom with me.”

“Lagom. It means just the right amount of something. Not too much and not too little. It doesn’t matter what it is, anything can be lagom.”

Her phone started buzzing and she threw a glance at it. She planned on not answering, whoever it was that demanded her attention could wait, but when she picked it up to put it on silence and saw that it was Cersei she quickly changed her mind. Cersei was out with some guy Catelyn didn’t know, and maybe something had happened or she needed an out. Helping her friend was way more important than not having a small interruption.

“I’m sorry this keeps happening, but my friend’s out and I really don’t want something to happen to her” Catelyn said before taking the phone.

“You don’t need to apologize, make sure your friend is okay.”

“Hey, is everything alright?” Catelyn said after having accepted the call.

“Yeah, it’s alright, thanks for asking. And you, are you alright?”

There was nothing in Cersei’s voice that suggested otherwise and Catelyn was instantly relieved. She was okay.

“I’m good.”

“Great, I was just wondering if you and the Swede would like to come to a Christmas party?”

“What?”

“Yeah, Robert hosts these large Christmas parties every year and he’s in the bathroom at the moment so I thought I’d call you and see if you wanted to come.”

So that was the name of her boyfriend. Robert. Catelyn would have to remember that. And if she went to the Christmas party she would get to meet him too. From nothing to both a name and an opportunity to meet him in person in a matter of just a few seconds, how nice.

“Can we talk more about it when we’re both home?” she said.

There was no need to talk about it right then, both of them had other things to do. And it wasn’t like the party would be anytime soon, there was still awhile until December, they had time to talk about it later.

“Of course, I just didn’t want to forget, you know how I am. But check with the Swede, will you?”

“I’ll check with him” Catelyn promised.

“Good, I’ll se you at home.”

“See you at home.”

Ned was quite obviously pretending not to be curious, but she saw right through it. She had noticed he wasn't very good at pretending.

“My friend’s boyfriend is having a Christmas party and she wondered if we would like to go.”

He didn’t try to hide his surprise though.

“We? As in me, too?”

“She asked for you specifically, so yeah.”

She didn’t know if it was because she wanted to meet Ned or because she didn’t want to make Catelyn feel lonely. Catelyn didn’t feel lonely. She was fine on her own and it didn’t bother her that her flat mates were in relationships.

“Unless I have something else I guess I can go.”

Catelyn smiled. Before starting to speak she realized how much she had been smiling since arriving there. He made her smile a lot, he made her feel good. She liked that about him. She liked him.

“Yay! It’ll be much more fun with you there.”

“I’m not the biggest fan of parties, and I won’t know anyone. But I can try for you.”

Oh God, he was sweet. Really really sweet. Boyfriend material. Husband material. Perhaps even father material. Catelyn wished she had been interested in him. He could try for her.

“I’m not sure I’ll know anyone either. I’ve never even met her boyfriend, and I learned his name just now. So we’ll be in it together.”

“What is his name?”

It made her think of Cersei demanding names every time Catelyn met a new person and teasing her over it. But Ned didn’t know about that, he just asked a polite question.

“Robert.”

A frown appeared on his face and that, and he turned his eyes downwards for a moment.

“Robert? Robert Baratheon?” he asked.

“I don’t know, why?”

“I used to know a Robert who hosted yearly Christmas parties, that’s all. But most likely it’s just a funny coincidence. Many people have Christmas parties, there has to be more than one Robert.”

“London is a large city and Robert is not an uncommon name, the probability of it being the same person is very small.”

She would have been able to figure out the exact probability for it being the same person if she had got a bit of time. But that was unnecessary, it wasn’t hard to understand that it was low.

“You’re the one who knows math, I’ll have to trust you.”

“It doesn’t take much math to figure that out.”

“I’ll just have to trust you in general then.”

She felt like her math skills were more trustworthy than her general knowledge on stuff, but that was unnecessary information to share.

“I hope you’re not going to regret it” she said instead.

“How nice of you.”

Ned sipped his tea and finished his cookie. Then he picked up his pen again, but instead of continuing on the drawing he had started while she did hers he took a blank paper. With an incredible speed he began moving the pen over the paper, and it left Catelyn somewhat confused as it didn't look like anything he had shown her.

“What are you drawing?” she asked curiously, stretching to see better.

He glanced up at her, his gaze focused in a way that made it seem like he was studying her. It didn’t make her wonder what he was doing any less.

“Could you be still, please?” he asked gently. “Or, well, you can move, but it would be good if you remained in the same position for a bit so that I can do a quick sketch.”

Catelyn hadn’t even reflected over how she was sitting until he said it. She had pulled her legs up and was sitting cross legged on the chair, as she always sat at home. In one hand she held her half eaten cookie, and the other was fiddling with her pen. When had she picked the pen up? None of that mattered even a little though. Because he was drawing her. And she was immensely flattered, but she couldn’t wrap her mind around why.

“Why are you drawing me?”

“I just liked the setting, and thought it would make for a good drawing” he responded casually. “Och du är vacker.”

She couldn’t be entirely sure, but she believed she had heard that last word before. And the more she thought of it, the more she grew sure of that he had said it to her before.

“You’ve said this to me before, right?”

He paused for a moment, as if he hadn’t believed she would notice that. But she had noticed. And she wanted to know what the hell it was that he was saying to her.

“Might be that I have.”

“What does it mean?” she asked, putting on her most charming smile in order to convince him to tell her.

“Nothing.”

“Then there’s no reason you can’t tell me. Come on, I thought we liked each other enough for you to translate for me.”

She couldn’t tell if he was blushing or not because of his beard, but something gave her the feeling that he was. She didn’t know exactly what that word meant, but she had somewhat of an idea about what it could be.

“If you’re flirting with me it’s okay to do so in a language we both understand.”

Not even a second after the words had left her mouth she regretted having ever been born. She shoved what remained of her cookie into her mouth before taking her mug and raising it to her lips, drinking the tea despite that it was still too hot for taking more than a little sip. She would rather burn her tongue than look at him after whatever the hell that had been. He was quiet and she wondered what was going through his mind. Did he think she was stupid? Or did he think she was flirting? Was she flirting? No, that hadn’t been flirting. She wasn’t even interested in him, he was just her friend. She liked him as a friend. And still she had heavily implied that he was flirting with her. She didn’t even know if that was what he had said. She knew no Swedish at all. Fuck.

“It means you’re beautiful” he finally said. “‘Vacker’ means ‘beautiful’.”

“You think I’m beautiful?”

“You probably think I’m a total weirdo right now, and I really don’t blame you, because this was very weird. And I want you to know that I would understand if you wouldn’t want to see me anymore” Ned said, and she had never heard him talk as fast as he did in that moment. “Not that we’re seeing each other in that sense, we’re not dating, och helvete, jag gör bara det här värre för mig själv, I’m so sorry.”

He had that miserable look on his face again. The same one he had had when they spilled coffee over themselves. But all Catelyn could do was laugh. Laugh at how he felt the exact same panic that she had felt just seconds earlier. Laugh at how they were both nervous wrecks pretending to be calm.

“Are you laughing at me?” he asked.

“No, I’m not, I just think the whole situation is funny.”

“How nice, I just feel like an idiot.”

“Believe me, so do I.”

“Once again, I’m sorry for ruining everything.”

“You didn’t, Ned” she assured him. “Nothing‘s ruined. At least I don’t think so.”

Did he think so?

“So we’re fine?” he asked.

“Yeah. We’re fine.”

He looked at her for a moment before sighing. Then he kept on drawing. And so did she. They didn’t say much more, just sat in silence except for an occasional exchange of words. And even though it had started very awkwardly Catelyn soon found that it was a quite comfortable silence. She could sit with him and be quiet.

“There” he said after a while. “It’s not my best work, the colors are a bit off, and your hands look awful, but it’s okay.”

She looked at his drawing and was left speechless, wondering what his best work was if that was just okay. Because she was looking at a drawing that was very clearly her. Sitting cross legged on a chair with half a cookie in one hand and a pen in the other, smiling. So what if the color of her hair wasn’t exactly right and her fingers looked a bit weird, it didn’t matter. It was still good. It looked good.

“What was that word you called me?” she asked.

He frowned.

“What?”

“Beautiful in Swedish.”

“Uhm, ‘vacker’, why?”

Catelyn wouldn’t have been able to pronounce that correctly if so her life had depended upon it, but she could give it a try. And she would give it a try.

“Because this drawing is vacker.”

Ned smiled at that.

“You think so?”

“Definitely, I love it.”

He slid it over the table to her.

“If that is so you can have it.”

She left not much later with the drawing in her bag, her head so full of things that she two times almost tripped and fell down the stairs because she forgot to watch where she was going. Most of all she thought about Ned. Everything about him, from the way he smiled to how he had thrown in a sentence of Swedish when he was embarrassed. She also thought about how he had called her beautiful. She hadn’t known it before, but Ned believed she was beautiful. That knowledge made her chest flutter. Maybe she was interested in him after all. Just a little bit though, it would most likely pass.

#catelyn stark #catelyn tully #ned stark #ashara dayne #elia martell #brandon stark #brynden tully #cersei lannister #ned x cat #my fic #raindrops snowflakes sunshine #after almost two weeks of promises it's here #its also a birthday gift from me to myself #a very late birthday gift but a birthday gift all the same #i hope you like it too

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ice-cream-writes-stuff · 4 years ago

Text

¤~°Ghost Marriage: Lovely Bride To Be?!°~¤ Finale!

Previously...

Before the door closed, (Y/N) asks them something. "Can I please have something to eat? I haven't ate in a few hours."

Present Time.

It was now close to night after all the arguing of students had disbursed. Finally all agreed with Crowley and his raffle idea on who the grooms should be.

Once all of the participants names were in the Headmasters hat. He shakes his hat around a few times and stops. Carefully pulling out a name a few names. Crowley coughs and clears his throat. The crow announced the lucky four grooms for operation "Lovely Bride To Never Be".

"Rook Hunt, Epel Felmier, Riddle Rosehearts and Ace Trappola!" Headmaster Crowley yells over the quiet teens. Gasps and groans filled Sam's shop. Yet no know decided to go against their headmasters choice. Grim doesn't even bother to question why the crow had choose them.

The four grooms step in front of their peers as Crowley starts talk with Sam. Not seeing the jealous eyes directed at his winners. To which they gave calm or smug expression. (*Cough* Epel and Ace, *Cough*.)

So the headmaster buys the items they needed for the operation. Not knowing that nightfall was closing in. "Considering that the time we have left until the wedding, this is our last chance. If this plan fails.. (Y/N) will lose her life!"

The four chosen teens gulp at the thought. The kind hearted prefect will die they do not succeed. They will not let that happen! "Since the ghost groom is in a suite. You shall also wear formal attire, or act like a prince, if you don't you will be not seen as a challenger."

Crowley gives the four grooms the things they needed. All the while Ortho had hacked into the security cameras to show to his peers. Standing outside, the students that weren't excepted all crowed around to see the footage. Once the boys are done changing. Stuck in formal wear, handsome as ever.

Their peers, friends, gave compliments and snide remarks. Cater takes a couple of photos and posts it on his Magicam. Tagging it, #Ghost groom, #Saving (Y/N) from Ghost groom and #Tuxedos! "The wedding ceremony is approaching now, the servant ghosts must be on high alert. Please be ready when the time comes!"

The four grooms nod. "No problem. I'll prove I'm the most suitable person to become the groom!" Riddle said with determination in his eyes and voice. "Oui, me as well."

"I'll reach out to her with words of love if my sincerity gets to her, then she will understand my feelings." Rook remarks with spark in his green eyes too. Epel joins in too with his seniors. "I'll save and catch her heart!" Ace agrees along with them, "yeah! Let's succeed in this plan in a instant!"

_____________________________________________

It was now night time and the three grooms had arrived to the gates of NRC. "Epel is late, it's already time to go..." Riddle said with uncertainty in his tone. "Did he get cold feet or something?" Ace asked to the two seniors.

"Non, non. Monsieur Crabapple would never wimp out, especially if it's for Madamonsieur (Y/N) of all people." Rook smiles without a care. "He'll be here soon..." "GUYS!!" It seems the fourth groom has arrived. "What took you so long.. Long."

Ace snark words die in his mouth before they could even come out. Grim, (who had decided to come with the grooms,) eyes widen at how fast Epel was coming towards them. The loud gallops of a horse draw near and nearer. "Sorry about the wait!" Epel says as he looks down at Ace and his seniors.

"It took me longer than I thought to get ready." His steed neighs after his words. Ace looks at Epel with astonishment and confusion. "Why are you on a horse exactly!!?!" Epel returns Ace confusion, "eh, why, because... Isn't prince charming supposed to make his entrance riding a horse. Right?"

"Do prince's even still do that!?" Ace turns to his seniors, "dorm head, Rook, you agree right!?" Rook was strangely quiet as he addressed his dormmate. "Epel... Your initiative, critical thinking, determination and preparation are astounding and very très bein!!" Rook applauded at Epel's effort.

Riddle could agree with his fellow senior. "You're even riding the most ornery horse in the equestrian club." The redhead pointed out with pride. "They're listening to you very well, you'be got a Mack for handling horses." Epel bashfully smiles at their praise, thmaking the two.

Ace interrupts the three by asking how they were gonna get inside. The Heartslabyul dorm leader tells him to quit his whining as Rook tells them that the wedding was starting in three hours. "How did I end up in the wrong?!" Ace asked, mostly to himself. "Ok.. Let's go! OPEN UP!" Epel yells.

One of the guard ghosts had heard the racket and sees the four, plus the horse and Grim. "Good evening, we've come here to win the beautiful brides hand in marriage." Rook said to the ghost. "Suitors and challengers, huh.. His highness will not be pleased to know of this, and so close to the wedding as well... I shall not let you through! Take your leave!"

Epel smirks, "are you sure? You're going to regret turning us away." The lavender haired boy chides. "What? You seem very confident." The gaurd sighs at the persistent suitors. "... Fine, I'll be the judge."

"Pretend I'm his highness bride and show me how you plan to propose! I will let you through the gate if you prove your feelings are ture." The ghosts remarks, waiting for one of the suitors to propose. "Guess we gotta do what he says if we wanna get through the door." Ace said with clear unpleasantness.

"... *Ahem!* Please allow me to go first!" Epel said with a hint of timidness in him. "Go ahead, show me your heartfelt proposal!" The ghost replys back. Epel starts to speak. "I will... Make her the happiest bride ever."

"Because whenever the person I love is in trouble. I'll come to their rescue, like a knight in shinging armor! Whatever happens along the way, I'll get (Y/N) through it all- er! I mean YOU through it all. Just like you had done for me! I will be the one to protect you from all harm."

"So, I am asking for your hand! I implore you. Please marry me!" Epel said with such emotion. Not knowing of the cameras that had captured all of it. Nor would any of the others know when it came to their time to propose.

The guard ghosts eyes widen, "your expression is totally serious... And you're even on a white horse! Like a true prince!!" Ace sighs, "the horse.. So I really was wrong?" The ghosts asked if Ace was a servant to Epel, Ace said no.

"Oh, so you're a suitor? Very well. Let's see how you'd propose." Ace gave a cheeky grin as he starts. "If you marry me, there's no doubt in everyday will be filled with fun."

Ace words grow softer as he continues, his eyes turn a bit nostalgic. "There might be times we argue or fight but... I'll always be the one to apologize. I'll be by your side through thick and thin and always work to make you smile."

"That makes me the best for the princess. So... Don't lay your eyes on anyone else, please marry me!" The ghost nods after Ace had finished. "Your desire to make your partner happy is bright as day! You're the real deal." The ghost then apologized to Ace for mistaken him as a servant.

"That was a decent proposal." Riddle said with a coy smile with amusement. "Hey, could you knock it off with that reaction? I'm just saying my lines!" Riddle's face doesn't change in the slightest.

"You say that but I'm sure that you put real thought into it." Grim goes along with Riddles teasing. "Nyahaha, Ace is trying to act all cool, y'know." The furrbal laughs at Ace, "shut up!" Riddle's teasing look turns into a confident one, "it was just like you Ace, but unfortunately, the princess is going to choose me!"

The soldier ghost points at Riddle. "Alright, you're up next. Show me your moves!" Riddle complied as he began his proposal. "I vow to be honest and sincere!"

"I promise to never hurt the person I love. If it's for my princess, I'll put everything on the line. I humbly request... Won't you choose me as your groom?" The ghost was speechless, uttering a "oh's" and "oh my".

"You seem so reliable and gallant... Even my heart is all a flutter." The ghost said in awe at the red headed groom. "Yeah it was so cool, Senior Roseheart..!" Ace agrees with his tuxedo buddy, "dorm leader got game too, huh?"

Riddle goes very quiet after his turn. "... Th-*ahem* that is enough out of all you all." The Roseheart male turns his head away so none of the group could see his pink cheeks. "The three of you were marvelous. It's my turn next." Rook spoke up as ghost gave him a look.

"The bar's been raised pretty high. A half-hearted proposal isn't going to cut it all!" The ghost declared to Rook, who just smiled and nodded. "You are truly beautiful, please allow me serve you for evermore. May I present a poem of all my feelings for you who has been watched under my eyes for months..."

"I wish to bring warmth to your cheeks, my dear. Long have your eyes only shed lonely tears. Oh, can they even see the happiness you bring to me and others around you. Vibrant is the live blooming in our rendezvous. Ever so gently, let me take your face to rest upon my hands. Under my care, may your lovely (e/c) eyes gaze ever sparkle with hope and romance."

"Woah.." The two first years said in sync, with awe and disgust. Riddle reviewed Rooks oddly embarrassing poem in his head. "Hold on! Read his poem vertically!"

Riddle explained that Rooks poem spelled. I LOVE U.

Rook congratulates Riddle on figuring it out. The ghost was surprised at the last suitor. Telling them they were very interesting challengers for his prince. The a pair of unfamiliar eyes watched them up above. Elias called his guards to go outside to the gates.

"The bride must have her friends here as well!"

_____________________________________________

(Y/N) tries her best to keep calm as she stuffed her face with cake. Taking off one of her gloves, she used it to smear off some of the crumbs off her cheek as a napkin. She puts her glove back on and stabs her fork in a glop of frosting. "*Ahem*!" A cough rings out in her "changing room.

The (h/c)-nette looks up from her food to see the ghost nanny. "My dear lady, it's time to go the wedding hall." Nanny ghost said happily. (Y/N) nods, bringing her herself to stand. Patting down her outfit to make sure crumbs weren't stuck to it.

The nanny ghost fixes her tiara and takes her arm into his. He smiles at her gently, like a grandfather giving his daughter her first pat on the head. The two walk out of the room in arm and arm. Heading to the cafeteria or the "alter". He then lets go of her before she walked down the aisle, flying off to one of the seats.

The "bride" walks over to the alter, but her "groom" was nowhere in sight. (Y/N) shifts in her place awkwardly as the ghosts chatter. She shifts around her bouquet and looks at the flowers. Stephanotis, Peony, Rose, and Lilly's. Her mind tires to remember the meanings, but her thoughts were interrupted when the ghost prince floats in.

The guest grow silent as music starts to play in the background. Elias smiled widely as his little ghost pals fly around him. "I'm so sorry my dear princess, I hadn't noticed the time." Elias said sadly as little tears well up in his eyes. (Y/N), feeling bad for him even though in her odd circumstances, told him it was all good.

"Oh! I forgot to mention, your friends are on their way here. You didn't tell me you were bringing your guests as well?" Elias tells her with innocent confusion. (Y/N) felt sweat drip off her back as guilt and happiness wash over her.

"They're comin-!" Her sentences wasn't even finished yet before her friends arrived. Riddle, Ace, Rook and Epel all wore nice suits while Grim was being held by a ghost soldier! Her friends were bound in ropes as they tried to get out of them. "Release us!"

Riddle demand with anger, "watch your tongue!" A soldier shouted at the hot-temperted red head. "Guys!" The "bride" yells in fear. The group looks at (Y/N) and are all stunned by her appearance.

She wore beautiful wedding attire, but the look on her face did not gleam like her outfit. "Why are they-!" "They were causing a ruckus, saying they were here to challenge me for your hand. But I decided not to hurt them, they are your friends after all. Think of it as a wedding present!"

The room goes quiet after the prince spoke. (Y/N) stares at her friends faces and her eyes slightly light up. She gives a sad smile and bows at them. Mouthing a few silent words to them. They stare at her with fear, but keep quiet.

"Now let's start!" The ghost groom announced as the priest ghosts starts to talk. "Do you, Prince Elias. Take this young woman as your wife and be with her for all eternity." "I do!"

The preist smiled at the boys eagerness. "And you my dear lady, do you take him as your husband for all eternity?" (Y/N) takes a glance at her bouquet of flowers and smiled softly. "I don't.." Gasps of shocks fill the air.

"Wha- but why?!" Elias cried out, as (Y/N) friend's cheered. The (h/c)-nette takes in a breath before releasing a sigh. "Prince Elias... You are a good soul, a sweet one. You put on a brave face for your subjects and friends so they could be happy."

"But you aren't, your just putting your ideals on me so you could finally find your happily ever after. Elias, you need to understand. I'm not your true love. You don't even know me, I don't even think you know why I am even here in Twisted Wonderland." (Y/N) says sadly, taking the princes hand in her's.

"I'm sorry about what you've been through. Though you need to see that you have to stop searching for someone who is your "ideal" cause I'm not a princess!" (Y/N) chuckles bitterly. "There is more to somebody than how they seem to be."

"I... I never meant... I just.." Elias tried to form words, though he couldn't. "I was never able to get a "happily ever after" when I was alive.. I wanted to find my princess and have a future with her. Yet that was stolen away from me, now I'm stealing you away from yours." Elias cried, his blue eyes closing.

"I'm sorry... I deeply am." The ghost groom cries, wiping his tears away. "Even after five hundred years, nanny was right. I still act like a child." This time, the prince laughs with bitterness. "I think it's time to finally leave.."

(Y/N) nods as Grim got out of his captors restrains and throws a wedding ring to her. "Place it on his finger! He'll disappear for good!" Grim yells at her. (Y/N) catches it and gives Elias one last smile as she puts on the ring.

"Thank you..." The ghost groom whispers as he started to disappear along with the other ghosts. When he was finally gone, the only thing left was a wedding ring. (Y/N) crouched down and picks it up from the ground. Throwing it in a trash been soon after.

She goes over to her friends and undid their restraints. When she finished, the group of grooms give her a hug. (Y/N) hugs them back, placing a small kiss on each their cheeks in gratitude. "Thanks..!" She blushed and looks away from them and focused her attention on cleaning up, not seeing her suitors rivaling looks in their eyes.

The ghost groom had lost his chance for her heart. But who said her suitors will?

The End.

(Yay! This series has been one wild ride for me. But I did it! Thank you guys for the support! I told myself that I would finish this before the Twst halloween event. And I did, Thank you guys! Happy Spooky Month! 👻)

#ghost marriage #ghost marriage event #twisted wonderland x reader #riddle rosehearts x reader #epel felmier x reader #Ace Trappola x reader #Rook Hunt x reader #riddle rosehearts #epel felmier #ace trappola #rook hunt

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ieattaperecorders · 4 years ago

Text

Something's Different About You Lately - Epilogue: Borrowed Time

Life goes on, impossibly.

Read on Ao3

---

Martin shifted the bag of groceries in his arms as he climbed the stairs, still feeling a bit nervous.

The dinner had been Jon's idea – his O&M instructor was covering kitchen skills, and he'd thought it would be fun for the two of them to try making something together. The recipe had sounded a little elaborate to Martin, who'd protested that he didn't cook much, but Jon promised that it wasn't beyond them. He added that Martin was ‘perfectly capable' in the kitchen anyway, and said it with such prim, knowing confidence that Martin hadn't even bothered to ask. Before he knew it, he was writing down a list of ingredients to bring over.

He supposed that was just going to keep happening, Jon telling him things about himself. It was . . . strange. Sometimes it was endearing, sometimes just annoying. Occasionally it made him feel sentimental and a little bit sad in a way he couldn't put his finger on.

The door to the flat opened after a moment of knocking, and he smiled as Jon appeared.

"Hi Jon, it's Martin," he said. He'd read online it was polite to say your name, to not assume the other person will recognize your voice. "I've got the groceries."

"I know it's you, Martin." His tone was light and a little condescending, and Martin felt heat rise to his ears. "Come on inside. You know where the kitchen is."

Martin slipped past him and set down the bag, pulling things out and arranging them on the counter as Jon followed him to the kitchen.

"The store was out of chili paste," he mentioned.

Jon shrugged. "We'll improvise, then."

"If you say so."

Jon began taking out cookware, placing things down wherever he found counter space. "Do anything interesting today?" he asked, over the clatter of pans.

"Not especially. Filled out a few applications, then took a walk," he said. "Met a really friendly dog in the park."

"Flattered that you tore yourself away to come here."

"Wasn't by choice, her owner wouldn't let me keep her."

"How unreasonable."

It was weird, not having to worry so much about money. Not that Martin was complaining of course, but there was still a voice in his head telling him he was being too slow and selective in his job search, that it was lazy of him. And he felt anxious dipping into the new funds too much.

He'd just about gone into conniptions when Sasha told him what she'd done while she'd been fiddling with Elias's computer. Embezzlement might not have been an escalation when they were already committing arson, but they could still get caught, and wouldn't a financial windfall point a lot of suspicion towards them? But she kept assuring him that it was untraceable, some hidden fund Elias had, ready to be drawn on by anyone with the account information. The running theory was that he'd been keeping it for his next identity, which . . . yeah, the less Martin thought about that, the better.

Fear of discovery aside, he couldn't deny it was nice having a buffer like this. There was space he'd never had before to think about where he wanted to be, what he wanted to do with himself. And with the bills taken care of, Jon could focus his time on recovering. At the urging of his O&M teacher (and some amount of prodding on Martin's end) he'd even started talking to a counselor every few weeks. It was ostensibly just about handling the emotions that come up with sudden, traumatic vision loss, and he doubted Jon would be discussing the more exotic traumas he'd been through. Still. It was probably good he had something like that.

They went about the business of prepping ingredients, talking idly about food, things they'd done in the past few days, updates from Tim and Sasha. Martin's initial nerves already dissolving into the steady flow of conversation. There was something comfortable, he reflected, in being around someone who was so comfortable with him.

"Would you mind--" Jon frowned, fiddling with the hob on the stove. "I've got this, I'm fairly sure. Just . . . make sure I keep the pan centered?"

"Sure."

He came to stand behind Jon, watching over his shoulder as he set the carefully oiled pan on the stove and turned on the heat. Martin was a terribly distracted spotter, his attention frequently straying from the pan to look at Jon's face, pinched slightly in concentration. There was a single bead of sesame oil on his cheek, and it made his intensely serious expression that much more charming.

Despite his concerns, Jon had the pan well handled as he heated the oil and added in the aromatics. Martin only noticed him drifting once, the flames going high on one side of the pan.

"A little left," he advised.

In a moment of impulse and bravery, Martin curved an arm around him – placing a hand on his elbow, then running it down his arm to cover Jon's hand with his own, guiding the pan carefully into place. Jon leaned back, fitting the curve of his body into Martin's and sighing deeply.

"God, I've missed this," Jon exhaled. "Just . . . cooking dinner with you. All these little domestic things."

His voice was so unselfconsciously fond. It made Martin dizzy, just how easily affection poured out of him.

In hindsight, at least part of Jon's strange, awkward behavior around Martin had been a result of him holding back, wary of letting his feelings show. He never held anything back now -- his demeanor going from nonchalant or haughty to unbelievably soft and loving at the slightest prompting. It still took Martin by surprise, inspiring so much unreserved affection in someone. It wasn't anything he'd usually associate with himself. It was strange, and lovely, and at times made him feel almost frighteningly powerful.

He leaned forward, kissing the soft skin just beside Jon's ear. Jon smiled, holding his pose for a moment before gradually returning his attention to the pan, shaking it gently to move the vegetables around. Martin kept a hand on his, now fully for the sake of touch rather than any pretense of assistance, letting Jon's movements guide them both.

"Did we cook together in that cabin a lot?" he asked.

Jon nodded. "It was one of a handful of things we could do that felt . . . well, like a date, I suppose. We couldn't really go anywhere since we were lying low. I mean, we could walk around the area, isolated as it was, but trips to the village were all short and functional. So preparing something elaborate together made an evening feel special," he smirked. "You used to get defensive, too, just like today . . . saying you didn't really cook, like you were trying to lower my expectations."

"In my defense, I never said I didn't cook, just . . . ." Not since mum left , he thought. "Not for a while."

"To be honest, we were both at a disadvantage in that kitchen," Jon continued. "There weren't a lot of modern conveniences there. The power came from a generator, and the stove was an ancient, wood-burning thing that neither of us quite knew what to do with at first. Took a lot of trial and error before we really managed."

"Sounds cozy."

"Oh yes. So cozy we almost suffocated ourselves before we figured out how to adjust the vents."

Martin smiled, listening to Jon describe the little kitchen in that place. The cabin in Scotland had supposedly been a remote safehouse the two of them laid low in, but the way Jon talked about it sometimes it might as well have been a romantic holiday retreat. He made it sound so nice that Martin once idly suggested they go see it someday. Jon had gone tense and quiet at that, had shaken his head and said softly that they had to stay far, far away from that place. That there was nothing good that happened there now.

Jon was mostly open about the things he remembered. But sometimes "open" meant he'd easily speak at length about something, and other times "open" meant he'd answer your questions with short, one-sentence explanations, volunteering nothing unless pushed. And anything about the police officers he'd apparently worked with fell solidly into the second category.

Sometimes it seemed like they might have been friends, but Jon was always adamant that no one ever try to contact them. Daisy in particular seemed hard to talk about. Martin did know about the coffin. Jon had told him in a soft, emotional voice how another Martin had stepped from his cloud of isolation to set out tape recorders calling him home, how it had been one of very few things that let Jon believe he hadn't given up on him yet. And he knew something had been different about Daisy after the coffin, some sinister force like the one that had kept them at the Institute had loosened its hold on her.

He also knew that Jon was terrified of her, that he said again and again she was too dangerous to go near. That something about her made him sad -- and, Martin suspected, guilty, though he wasn't sure why. It was a topic he'd decided not to push . . . if Jon ever wanted to talk more about it, he would in his own time.

There were other things, things closer to home for Martin that Jon had hesitated over. Once while he was recounting the events of those years he'd paused mid-sentence. Stammered that it wasn't all supernatural in nature and some of it may still happen, and was he sure he wanted to know everything? Martin imagined Jon thought he was being subtle, but it wasn't a hard guess.

He told Jon not to give him the date. It was obviously going to be within the next couple of years, there was no spitting out that apple of knowledge. But he didn't want to be able to mark it on his calendar.

It shouldn't have felt like news, that his mum was going to die soon. Shouldn't have been the uncomfortable weight in his chest that it was. She was ill, of course it was coming, it had been coming for a while, hadn't it? But maybe that was the problem. It had been ‘any day now' for such a long time, ‘any day' had stopped feeling like a reality. And he still wasn't sure what to do with this information, if it really changed anything. Should he try to get some sort of closure? How did you make the most of the time you had left with a person who refuses to see you?

Martin hadn't asked Jon how much he knew about his mum, that just wasn't a conversation he was eager to have. But the careful, hesitant way Jon talked around the subject suggested . . . something, at least. Just like how the gentle, quiet tone he got when he talked about the Lonely told Martin more than he really wanted to have explained.

There was only one thing Jon flatly refused to tell him about, and that was whatever Elias had done to him on the day of the Unknowing. When pushed, Jon had gone quiet for a while, then said he didn't remember. It had been a lie, and a bad one, and both of them knew it. But it was clear there was no point in asking for more.

"You like pizzelles, don't you?"

Jon's voice snapped Martin to the present. With a last squeeze of Martin's hand, he turned off the flame, moved away from the stove and over to the pantry.

"Um, dunno?" Martin said, pulling his thoughts back together. "Never tried them."

"Really?" Jon frowned, pausing halfway to the cabinet door. Then he shrugged. "Well, no matter. You will."

Martin rolled his eyes. Jon spoke with so much more authority than anyone deserved to hold over another person's cookie preferences, and he couldn't help feeling contrary.

"No. You stepped on a butterfly last week and set off a chain of events that forever changed my feelings on pizzelles, I hate them now."

"That's all right," Jon said, popping open the plastic package and arranging the cookies on a plate. "If you don't want these, there's also canned peaches for dessert."

"Oh, don't you dare --"

Jon snickered, picking out a broken piece of one of the large, thin cookies and holding it out, just short of passing it into Martin's mouth. With an annoyed grunt, Martin leaned forward, taking a bite.

Damn it. It was really, really good.

---

Jon sank into the couch, pleasantly full and a little bit tired. He leaned back and listened to the sound of running water coming from the next room.

Martin had insisted on doing the dishes, on the basis that Jon had done "all the real work" of cooking. He wasn't sure that was true, but didn't argue. Just asked that he leave everything in the drainboard when he was finished so Jon could put it away later. He knew he'd be frustrated for hours if the dishes weren't where he expected them to be.

There were so many frustrations in his life now. His O&M instructor had promised he'd learn new ways to move through the world, that in time the frustrations would be fewer and fewer, and he'd find himself capable of nearly everything he'd done before the loss of his sight. Jon believed her, but it didn't make the prospect of getting there any less daunting. Nor did it make the learning process any easier.

The worst were the things his instructor would never understand, that no resource or guidebook would mention. The dread that gripped him when he became disoriented and found a door where he wasn't expecting one. The phantom tickles on his body that prompted him to pat himself down for spiders again and again.

Still. He was alive. The others were freed from the institute, and he was there with them, to struggle and to mourn and to continue on.

A part of him would always fear it had been a mistake. That the Web, or the Eye, or some other power still had plans for him that would reach apotheosis someday. Maybe he saw the fear as vigilance, as though something was waiting for him to feel safe so that it could rip that security from him. And as long as he never allowed himself to be truly, entirely at ease, that day would never come.

Irrational, perhaps. But it was so hard to tell anymore which irrational fears were truly irrational, and which would one day manifest with teeth and claws.

Even if nothing ever came for him, they had only bought the world some time. One day, maybe soon, someone would figure it out and attempt a ritual again. Maybe there would be others out there who would catch it in time, postponing the end over and over, forever. Or maybe someone would do it next week, and Jon would be plunged along with everyone else into unspeakable suffering until Terminus claimed them all. He could follow Gertrude's path if he chose, devote his life to stopping rituals at the cost of everything he cared for. Even then one could slip past him, come from someplace he hadn't been watching, or had been made not to notice. At some point he was going to have to find a way to live with that knowledge.

He'd work on it. But for the moment . . . .

The sound of running water stopped. Jon smiled, scooting to make room on the couch, feeling the cushions sink and shift as they took the weight of another person. With a hmm that came out with more whine to it than he'd wanted, Jon found Martin's arm and tugged it towards him. With a quiet laugh, Martin obliged, leaning into him and resting his head against his chest.

"Better," Jon arranged their limbs more comfortably. Martin's hands were still cold, and he smelled faintly of dish soap.

"Glad to hear it."

Jon knew Martin found it amusing, how clingy he was. The first time he'd commented on it had been profoundly embarrassing. Part of it was just the way Jon was, but he also remembered the days after the Lonely. The skittish, uncertain moments of contact, the times when Martin stiffened at his touch but whimpered when he pulled away. The other days, when they could barely let go of one another, when Jon would plant himself beside Martin or wrap his arms over his shoulders, and he would relax into it, sighing with release. Both of them too grateful for the fragile miracle of each other's touch to consider breaking contact.

This Martin didn't remember those days, and if he ever sensed anything desperate or reverent in the way Jon clung, he didn't comment on it. Still, even if he found it funny, he didn't seem to mind how ardently Jon held on to him.

Jon moved a hand into the space between Martin's shoulder blades and scratched down his spine, the particular way he used to like. Jon felt him shiver with pleasure under the soothing contact, and a powerful warmth spread through him.

"God . . ." Martin whispered, "you really know everything about me, don't you?"

Jon snorted. "Hardly. In a very real way, we barely had time to get to know each other. And when we did, well . . . it was close by necessity. It was intimate, and intense. But there's still a great deal I've no idea about."

"You were never tempted to use those powers of omniscience to look inside my head?"

"Constantly," Jon said, with great seriousness. "But I never did. I promised."

Martin went quiet at that. Maybe Jon's reply had been a little intense, or maybe Martin hadn't actually realized that looking inside his head had been a possibility when he'd asked the question as a joke.

"Oh," he said eventually. "Um . . . good?"

"I have picked up a few things," Jon continued, speaking with quiet and fond admiration. "For example . . . I know you'd like a pet, but your landlord won't allow them so you keep plants instead. You can't say no to panhandlers. You have a favorite hoodie that you only wear when you're sad and need the comfort. You like old, careworn furniture, and rainy days, and sitcoms that were made before you were born. You're kind to people who aren't kind to you, but you never forget the unkindness."

"Wow. Okay," Martin made a soft noise, shifting in his arms, voice tight and quiet. "Okay. Y-You're, uh, probably going to kill me if you keep that up, you know."

"Trust me, you've survived worse."

He felt Martin move a little higher, slotting himself beside Jon and giving him a tight squeeze. Jon grinned as the breath was pushed out of him, all twenty-four of his ribs contracting at the assault.

That was another difference, one of dozens of subtle changes Jon couldn't keep his mind from analyzing. Martin wasn't ungentle, exactly. But he hugged Jon more tightly, shoved or poked him when he was annoyed, whereas the Martin in his memories had held back a little. Been more mindful of his strength, as if wary he might handle him too roughly. It had been subtle, a thing Jon hadn't even noticed until he had something to contrast it against.

It made sense, he supposed. The other Martin had seen Jon limp back to the institute with fresh wounds and new scars one too many times. This one didn't have to have those images in his head.

There were some things that were lost between them, Jon knew that. Memories too small and simple to explain, questions he couldn't ask anymore. Moments they would never share, both good and bad. But there was also so much they had gained. This Martin hadn't had an easy life, not by any measure. But he hadn't had to watch helplessly as the people around him died or disappeared or became monstrous. Hadn't been lost in grinning corridors, or attacked by Hopworth's hooligans, or made to feel the heat of the endless tenement fire. And for that, Jon was so, so grateful.

"You look thoughtful," Martin commented.

"Mmm," Jon sat quietly for a while sifting through his thoughts before speaking. "We should go to a movie sometime. When I'm up for going out out."

"That sounds less fun for you than me . . . ."

"Depends on the movie. I could listen, even without description. And I'd enjoy being with you," he said. "Or maybe a concert? Though I don't really know what sort of music you like . . . ."

"Really? There's actually a blank spot in your catalogue of Martin trivia?" he said sarcastically. "Surprised it never came up."

"You only ever used headphones at work," Jon bristled, feeling oddly defensive about it, "and we obviously couldn't bring our devices to the cabin. Too traceable."

"Hmm," there was a teasing smile in Martin's voice. "Don't know if I want to tell, now. Feels like I've got a secret."

"Oh, except . . . there was one song? I don't know the lyrics, but you used to hum it all the time in the cabin."

"What was it called?"

"I didn't actually ask. It sounded nice, though. Maybe we could listen to it together. . . "

"How'd it go, then?"

He hummed the tune from memory. It came easily to mind, connected as it was with images of Martin sipping tea or wiping down a countertop, a bright, easy smile on his face. After a moment, Martin burst out laughing.

"That's -- that's from a soap commercial!"

". . . What?"

"Floors and doors, walls and halls, Liquid Lather cleans them all," he spoke-sang along with the tune. "It was probably just stuck in my head."

Jon frowned, mildly disappointed. "Well. It sounded nice when you were humming it, anyway."

"God. If you want I can serenade you with an insurance advert sometime."

"No thank you."

"Or we could listen to your album from uni," he pushed, the satisfied smile in his voice growing.

"Thankfully we never recorded anything," Jon grinned ruefully, "so that's lost to time."

"Bet you could still sing some of it."

"Try me the next time I'm not expecting to live through the night."

Martin made a displeased sound at that, but said nothing.

"I'm sorry that you always have to come over here," Jon said. "I should probably be making more of an effort to get out of the flat. But it's so much still, even with a guide. I can do it if I have to, but I can't relax."

"C'mon . . . you know I don't mind, and even if I did it wouldn't be something to apologize for. You're going at your own pace."

"Suppose I'm just impatient with myself. It feels absurd, I've walked through a London warped by unfathomable terror, but now ordinary city life is overwhelming. I think I never understood how many people there are on every block until each one became another unpredictable factor to be aware of on my way to the damn corner store," he sighed. "It may be a while before I'm up for anything like a concert."

"It's alright," Martin gave his arm a gentle squeeze. "I'm good at waiting."

For a moment Jon's mind went to a dark, creaking bedroom, air heavy with dust and thick with terror. It's all right. I'm good at waiting. The same phrasing, almost the same tone. Maybe it was to be expected, little parallels like this. Given a person's linguistic habits and enough time it was probably inevitable, but every time something like it happened it floored Jon in the most wonderful way. Some small but meaningful part of the man he loved reflecting and echoing back at him.

If the world didn't end, if he didn't dissolve into spiders or die at the hands of some unfathomable terror, Jon swore someday he'd find the words for how moments like that made him feel. And if he had any courage left in him, he'd tell Martin about it.

"Though, as long as we're talking about that," Martin said, "I've been thinking . . . ."

"In general?" Jon teased.

"Sort of. I've been reading some stuff about adjusting to vision loss? And I know this is fast – well, maybe not fast to you – but it seems to me like it's probably easier, especially at first, if you've got a sighted person staying with you . . ."

He felt himself breathe in sharply, and Martin's words came faster, his tone careful.

"Not - not to do everything for you, of course! I know you can do things yourself. Just to make little things easier, and – you know, that aspect aside it – it might just be nice –"

"Yes," Jon said decisively.

"Because it isn't really just the vision thing – I mean, it's alright if you do need help but it's also alright if you don't – but there's other reasons – "

"My answer is yes."

A faint laugh came out of Martin and he slapped Jon's chest lightly. "Stop agreeing and let me finish."

"Sorry."

"I'm not suggesting moving in. That would be too fast, at least for me," he said. "I'd want to keep my own place, and I'd probably still spend some time there."

"Of course," Jon nodded solemnly. "Perfectly reasonable to want some space of your own."

"Yeah. But if it works for you, I thought I might get a bag together, y'know, just sort of stay for a while? I – hell, I wouldn't, uh, mind the excuse to cook more dinners with you? And I slept better than I had in a while the night I stayed over here."

"So did I."

"I just think it might be nice. If you think so too, of course."

There was a pause as Jon waited, not sure if Martin had more to say. After the silence had dragged on for a while, he spoke up. "Am I allowed to say yes now?"

Martin laughed, nodding against Jon's chest.

"Then yes. I'd be very happy to have you stay here with me."

"Cool. Cool . . . " Martin exhaled. " . . . I love you."

"And I love you."

"More than I'll ever know?"

There was a teasing smile in Martin as he echoed the words Jon had said to him back in the tunnel. Jon was quiet for a moment.

He'd meant those words when he'd said them. It hadn't been a romantic turn of phrase. He'd confessed his feelings in that moment with the understanding that Martin would never be able to see how deep they ran. That he could tell Martin he loved him, but he'd never be able to show him that. He wouldn't have the chance. He found Martin's cheek with a hand, turned his face towards him, then bent down and kissed him, once.

"No," he said. "Not if I can help it."

#tma fanfic #tma #jonmartin #food mention

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