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midsummereve1993 · 2 years ago

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They said what

@appetite4savage @niksixx @youlightmeupfinn @la-undercover-latina @valeriiecameron @same-old-crue @kathrynsblogg

A/n, please let me know how the story is, and be working on hard on my stories and how you like them.

Warnings tak of judgment and talks of hating a child because they were born.

January 12 2007 5:00 pm

Mick watched as his bandmates got ready for the show tonight but his eyes soon turned to the special little girl in the room and that was his daughter, lyric dean deal was the highlight of the room and aways brought a smile to everyone faces. He met her mother while doing a show and nine mouths later in march of 2002 lyric was born but it wasn’t sunshine and roses because her mother took off shortly after she was born leavening him to raised a child. Lucky his bandmates and his three elder children were willing to step in and help out as much as they could and now here she was fixing to watch him perform.

“daddy why do everyone know you she asked him as she come up to him making him smile, “because honey i’m a rockstar and because i play in a band everyone knows us. “even the ones who want to kidnap you and do things like uncle tommy said making mick frown, he really needed to have a talk with tommy about checking before he spoke. “yes honey even those but don’t worry baby he said touching her face with his hands, “our body guards won’t allow anything to happen to us or you he said as she give him a big smile and went back to paying with her dolls.

“tommy look before you speak please i”m already in hot ready with les for lyric cursing a while back mick said as Tommy frown, “sorry dude but you child is like a ninja because i checked every time and when i get done talking boom there she is he said making Vince who was next to him laugh. “tommy is right mick, “just yeasterday i was gonna spend a night with a girl and then boom here comes lyric saying uncle vinnie it time to play Dollie’s and i was blocked from the best night of my life.

“but uncle vinnie playing with dolls is good because your the only one closed enough to a girl lyric said making everyone laugh in the room, “lyrics what did i say about listening on conversations mick said giving her a sideways glare. “sorry daddy but you know I can’t help it it’s just in my blood she aid shrugging her shoulders, “no more listening in on conversations sweetie because your too young. “But daddy i already know what a whore is, a slut is and what fucking means lyric said not understanding she nearly give her dad a freaking panic attack.

“Ok that is it after this no more talk of that stuff, “last thing i need is my child tellling other kids stuff they ain’t supposed to know. “but daddy I can’t be put in school because i know too much and him and stormy are gonna homeschool me pretty son in august lyric said as she remembered the conversation between her two siblings. Most of her life she spent it between her dad and her sibling’s and she loved it because he hardly ever got to see her siblings and nieces and nephews. “I know baby and they have never let me forget it but if your uncles would mind what they said around you we wouldn’t have this issue mick said looking at his bandmates who was hanging there head”s.

“so who am i gonna hang with when y’all on stage lyric said looking between her dad and uncles, normally she would stay with one of her sibling”s but this time they wouldn’t be able to be there so she was very curious on who she would stay with. “well uncle nikki bandmate dj is gonna stay with you while we on stage but i want you on your best behavior mick said looking at his daughter with a stern look, “but daddy i am aways on my best behavior she said blinking her eyelashes and flashing her blue eyes at her dad.

“yeah but remember what happen last time, “you ended up stranded in the lost town because you wonder off the tour bus without telling anyone and therefore being left behind. “but daddy you should’ve double checked the bus before y’all pulled off she said smiling but stopped when she saw her dad stern look. “still you shouldn’t have left the bus any way young lady Mick said as he turned to see there tour manger tell them that it’s time to go on stage.

January 12 2007 8:00 am

Three hours had gone by since lyric dad and uncles had gone on stage and the whole time she stayed beside Dj legs not moving a wink, she found she actually liked Dj and wanted him to aways babysit her when ever her dad went out on stage, “you know your dad is pretty cool Dj said looking at the young girl who smiled up at him. he was surprised when Nikki called him and said he needed him to babysit his niece while they perform which he was coming to like he young girl. He saw a lot of Mick in the young girl but also traces of her uncles installed in there too. “i know he is but know what’s ever cooler she said looking at him and saw him shake his head no, “my uncle Nikki has a pretty good bandmate too she said which made Dj brighten up.

World had gotten around that everybody who ever watched Mick youngest child was a curse because everyone of them swore up and down that babysitting the young girl was like a horror because the young girl aways managed to run away from them or the last time got left behind in another state two hours away, Dj stared back at the stage and then back down beside his legs to noticed the young girl was gone and his heart leapt into his throat. “lyric where are you he said walking backstage looking through every room before he come to the last room and saw the young girl sitting on the couch with tears falling down her face, he walked over and bent down to her level.

“hey why the tears honey he said as he bent to her level, “you were happy a few minuets ago what happen Dj said as he watched lyric turned her blue eyes on him. “While you were watching daddy and my uncles I overheard one of the roadies saying how it was disgrace that daddy brought me with him and that she shouldn’t have a young kid at his age lyric said making his heart break. He knew a lot of people were unhappy with the fact that Mick had another child and it cause a lot of hate towards him and especially lyric but Mick has managed to keep that under wraps but it seems like he could not keep it a secret anymore.

“listen honey don’t listen to those guys because they don’t know what there talking about, “your an amazing girl and your dad is definitely lucky to have you in his life. “but why did they say that about me I haven’t done anything to them lyric said as more tears fell down her face, she’s heard the whispers and talks behind her back but choose to ignore them because they were about her uncles but tonight it was about her and she had no ideal why. Dj didn’t know what to say because he didn’t want to let the young girl know there were people who hated her simply because she was born, “there just some people who has nothing better to do then talk about things they don’t understand. “see there jealous because you a lucky Kid to have a dad like him.

Meanwhile on stage Mick turned to walk back to his spot but saw that Dj and lyric were not in the spot where he left them which worried the man but he could do nothing since they were still on stage and he knew Dj would take care of his daughter, after a few more minuets they finished the last song and come off the stage and mick hurried backstage to find his daughter and come to the last dressing room to see lyric and Dj watching something on he tv.

“daddy lyric said and rushed off the couch and into his legs to give him a hug, lyric knew from a young age that her dad wasn’t able to pick her up or do things that other dads do but she didn’t care. He was a rockstar and as long as she got to be with her dad she didn’t care what he could and couldn’t do. “was everything ok Dj Mick said and saw his face frown as the man asked if he could talk to him in the hallway. Out in the hallway Mick listened as Dj told him everything and mick heart broke at the thought of his daughter thinking what she thought and promise to speak with her about it.

Mick come back into the dressing room and set down byside her and felt heer traced his tattoos on his hands, “you know i love you very much right lyric mick said and saw her shake her head. “daddy why were rhe men talking about me and how i was a disgrace to world she said looking into her dad’s eyes that she shared, “when I announced I was gonna be a dad again there were a lot of people who didn’t like the ideal of rockstars who are older become dads again after having grown children. “but Steven wonder did it and Mick jagger did it lyric said making Mick laugh.

“true but a lot of people think only young people should be able to have kids but lyric you are the best thing that ever happen to me in 2002 regardless of how old i am or how old your siblings are, “so you don’t think i”m a mistake or a disgrace to you lyric said looking to her dad which made his heart break. “no honey you ain’t a mistake or a disgrace to me because you are the greatest blessing i ever got besides your siblings. “dad can we go watch strawberry shortcake please she said making Mick laugh as they waked toward the bus.

January 13 2007 8:00 am

Lyric watched as her dad practiced with her uncles from the spot where she was when she felt a tap on her shoulder making her turned around to see a kid about her age, “hello she said before she saw the look on the boys face making her frown. “you know you not a good person right and that it’s wrong that your dad is mick mars the Boy said making lyric see red. “what does that mean she said feeling her fist ball up as she got mad, “what i mean is it’s a disgrace that you were born despite being love but really your are mistake. Lyric don’t know what come over but the next thing she knew she swing her fist and hit the. Boy right in the nose and running away.

Mick heard the commotion and saw his daughter run off with tears on her face and then looked to the boy who had blood coming out of his nose, “see what your brat of a child did to my son the roadie said as he Bent down to look at his son, “say that again dude i dare you Nikki said sitting his bass down and coming over to look the guy on the eye.’what about how you and your friend were talking about my niece last night while we were performing he said and watched the guys eye go wide. “we were only…. “no don’t even start with excuses because i”v heard enough of them. “i”v be listening in on conversation yall have when you don’t think i am there and today i am surprised and shocked you would even go that low to pull your son into the mix.

“now i already talk to the other guys and our manger and i can say you and your buddy is off the tour so pack up and go home Nikki said turning round and following Mick to help him look for lyric. Meanwhile lyric run so much she had no ideal where she was till she come to the room and closed the door, sidling down the wall she cried none stop at the names she and be called and believed she was nothing but a mistake when she heard the door open and saw her uncle Tommy siting down beside her.

"Want to tell me what happen bug he said using the nickname he give her when she was really little, "that boy tap me on the shoulder and I tuned to look at him thinking he wanted to talk or have some fun since he is about my age but he just started in on me. "Saying I wasa disgrace and how it was wrong for dad to have me but I don't understand through, I'm a good girl and daddy is a good man so why is everyone judging him she asked looking to her uncle who heart leap a million times at her question as she struggled to say the right things.

"Because peope are judgemental and Don't care to see thing happen that you can't control she heard and turned to see her dad and two other uncles standing before her, "but why ain't we supposed to love each other all the time. "Yes honey, but there are people who don't follow that rule and want to "But uncle nikki judging me for being born when I didn't get asked, "I know baby and there Is a lot of peope who do that but the most important thing is Don't listen to them because you are loved and appreciated in this world.

"Even if I was a mistake, "lyric, you're not a mistake, and don't ever think that ever. "Having you is the greatest blessing ever, and your siblings love you. "I love you too, Daddy.She said, getting up and giving him a hug as her uncles joined in on the hug.

From that moment on lyric grew to love everything about having a dad as a rockstar and even through there was peope who still judge her and her dad she never allowed them to bother her and even followed in her father's footsteps and become a musician.

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natromanxoff · 4 years ago

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I wasn’t sure about posting this at first but as it is already shared publicly and I have come across with it on Pinterest, I decided that it would be okay. So here is a story of a fan about Jim Hutton:

“ON 23rd of March, there was a Queen Tribute band concert in Goresbridge and my boyfriend told me that Jim would come as well. He admitted that he had arranged with Stephen for Jim to come along. The concert was in the pub called The Spirit Store. What a great name for spiritual meeting, I thought. When I entered, Jim sat at the table with Stephen, Jascqueline, her sister Valeria and other family friends. There was nowhere to sit, so we just stood by the table for a while. When I looked at Jim, he appeared somewhat fragile and tiny, like a man who could easily be overlooked. He didn´t look anything like those photos portraying him in the books.

After a while, there was a free seat by the table and everyone, including Jim, moved in order for us to sit down. It was just one place and my friend Mike wanted to take it. He got up fast but they all stopped him. Jim measured Mike up and down and told him, "Perhaps you should let the lady sit here, you cavalier!" Embarassed, Mike got up from his chair and offered it to me. I got the honorable place alongside Jim. Being a woman sometimes has its advantages! Jim welcomed me with heartfelt "Hi". At first I was nervous, but after a while I felt relaxed and enjoyed Jim's company. I was aware of his behavior, gestures, laughter, and tried to absorb his energy all at once. It was easy to talk to him about anything and everything.

I wanted to know the man Freddie loved so much, so I guess I started giving him many questions.

"Jim, are you still in touch with Phoebe?" Jim looked at me closely and began to talk to me with interest. "I haven´t really been talking to him for a long time. I know he had a hotel in Dubai, then he sold it, and he's in Prague now. He also bought something overthere and I think he's going to settle down there." When I heard about Prague, I jumped up excitedly and told him that I was from there. He smiled a little, though the coincidence like this didn´t overwhelm him as much as me.

He relished glass of Budwaiser and smoked Ultra light Silk Cuts. He offered me one and lit it up for me like a real gentleman. It seemed he wanted to continue talking. We both made fun of the ultralight effect of his cigarettes, which would probably piss off every orthodox smoker, Freddie for sure! He then demonstrated jokingly, how to properly smoke them. He inhaled all the smoke by sucking in his cheeks and widening his eyes, as if he should soon burst like an inflated toad. None of us resisted and we both burst into a mad laughter. I told him about my visit to Munich and meeting Barbara. He smiled and listened, then he rolled his eyes up to heaven and stated that she is one hell of a crazy woman. I totally agreed, and added, that also alcoholic one. It was surreal to talk about mutual aquaintances together, people we both knew. I also mentioned my visit to New York club and I could see how he returns nostalgically into his memories. Then I also tried to make him remember my friend Allison, who told me about him in the first place.

"About nine years ago she visited you in London". He couldn´t remember and admitted, that since then a lot of people have passed through his life and many of them he never saw again.

I continued. "She showed me several of your photos and in one of them you were holding Freddie's portrait that you bought at the auction". Suddenly he jumped up and said he knew whom I mean.

I showed him my miniature box containing a stone and talked about it with almost patriotic pride. "It's a stone from Logan Mews that I had to dig out from under the threshold of his house, because there was nothing else to take." Jim laughed out loud, this time without any hindrance and doubt that I was totally crazy. I also laughed because I knew I sound like nuts. He remarked with smile from ear to ear that I was pretty crazy. "Yeah, I'm crazy, and I'm proud to be. Who isn´t...and by the way.....why not?" I smiled at what I just said, because that´s what Freddie would say, to defend himself. Jim then talked about the medallion that Freddie had given him for his birthday. He said, there were three miniature pictures inside. "The first is that of Miko ", he said gently, looking up at me to make sure I knew who he was talking about. "In the other one is Freddie" ... he continued with kind of fervor and love. Something deep inside me shivered. "In the third one," ... he didn´t answer yet, when I jumped into his monologue ...."Tiffany," I blurted out.

"My mom's photo," he finished his sentence. (and I prayed he didn´t register my answer).

It was nice to hear him remembering like that. He opened up in front of me the way I never dreamt of. I think it was nice for him to share these beautiful moments and to talk about things that meant so much to him. "This rock is my good luck charm. I have been listening to Queen since I´m twelve and I also work in the Fan Club's office. We celebrate his anniversary every year. When I went here, I was kidding with my friends that I might meet Jim Hutton in Ireland... and here you are, sitting right next to me. That´s my dream come true", I said all emotional.

"How do you know Stephen?", he inquired after while.

"I go out with Vinnie and they are good friends" He eyed my boyfriend and indicated that he knew who he was.

"I was annoying the two of them and was constantly asking them to bring you", I smiled.

"Oh, Jacqueline wanted me to come, alright" Jim smiled at the thought. Then he talked about the music talent competition, in which they were selecting the best imitators of Queen.

"What music are you actually listening to?" I wondered.

"I have no favorite, I'm listening to almost everything. Even a radio".

"And do you still have Zig and Zag?"

He only sighed and said in a sad voice that they had both died since then.

"And do you have any other cats?"

"Yeah, I have seven others now," Jim smiled. This number didn´t surprise me. The old habits are hard to kill.

"Do you still keep up the gardening, Jim?"

"Constantly," he said with a loving smile and amusedly showed me his hands dirty from the clay and covered in sores. For God's sake, he must have been gardening a few minutes before going to a concert!, I thought to myself. A complete garden maniac.....

We were joking on the account of the band that was supposed to start playing long time ago, but somehow did not. He told me it would be nice to get drunk, so we didn´t know how terrible they were. That really made me crack up. He could be so funny.

He joked and emphasized to everyone around the table, that instead of a concert he could have been at home watching his favorite movie. In the same breath, he admitted that he was curious about their performance and that he hadn´t been out in ages.

He leaned over to me and confessed, that now he lived a life completely cut off from the rest of the world.

"We are basically the same, I am basically like him. Now I just enjoy loneliness and privacy. I don´t go out anywhere except my garden". I immediately knew whom he was referring to in his speech.

I said that I had discovered his house in Palatine and apologized when I saw his slightly concerned look. I said I was just little curious.

He then recalled a few of his encounters with the fans. One day there was an unknown car with a couple of strangers that arrived to his house. They came all way from Vienna and they found him by questioning people in a town! Not a hard thing to trace him, he said, as every cab driver in the area knows him pretty well. One local newspaper even published a photo of his house, and although they gave a wrong address, a lot of people had found him.

That made me laugh, because I knew what it means to be a devoted fan.

"On the other hand, it's nice to know that someone is constantly looking after you and giving you the feeling that all this is still alive," I added with a smile.

"Jim, do you still have your Volvo?"

"You mean the one that Freddie gave me?.....No, I don´t have it few years now, I´ve swapped it for a new one," he smiled.

He was all too gallant all the time, always lighting my cigarette.

He also wondered how long I would stay in Ireland, so I said that only another half a year.

"And you wanna come back here?" He asked suddenly.

"Oh, I'd love to. I'm trying to find a job either in Carlow or Kilkenny," I said enthusiastically.

Then I fell silent, looked at him and assured him "Definitely."

Each time he looked up into my eyes, I saw an incredibly nice person in front of me. Something in his silent expression suggested that he had suffered great deal of pain in life, but that he was now completely reconciled with his fate. Still, in his eyes shone a spark of unrelenting humor. In his company I forgot all about the world. I was happy to be able to make such an affluent and warm contact with him. The longer we knew each other, the closer we were.

When he wanted to go to the toilet, Stephen told him that the men's toilets were behind the bar and the ladies in front of the bar. It sounded like he wasn´t quite sure which one would Jim prefer.

But Jim didn´t care much and set off to the men's. I admit it made me laugh a little.

Then we continued our dialogue. I mentioned that I read both his and Phoebe's book, but that I couldn´t find his book anywhere in the stores. He confirmed that it´s out of print at the minute.

When I told him that I had stolen his book at the local library, he laughed and said that I should have asked him and he would have given me a copy, but he only had Italian version.

Finally, the band started to play. Everyone in the pub stood up and whole lot of us - as we were tucked in at the back, climbed onto the window ledges. I stood next to Jim, who remained seated.

He looked a little bit run over. I knew he was surrounded by the loneliness and I watched him with sadness. I lacked much power or words to comfort him. It was only after some wonderful songs that we both joined and got up. He could not remain sad in such a loving and friendly company for ever.

When he noticed the enormous, life-vibrant energy that only Queen music could produce in conjunction with a crowd of people singing, I think he forgot his personal pain. I could see pride in his face. He stood up and watched the band. Then he addressed me and made me come up onto the ledge above him to see better. I would not listen to anybody else, but from him it didn´t sound like an order. He wanted me to get the most out of it and it pleased me. Then we sat back and drank. Jim seemed to be getting cheerful and livelier. The more he drank, the more cheerful he was. The guys ordered him Red Bull with vodka. When I asked him if it was vodka, he claimed it was white lemonade! He put a warm glass of "vodka" on my hand, so I almost jumped out of my skin, which he thought was terribly funny.

Whatever he did, he looked at me as though I was the only person who knew what was behind his looks. His faces and funny grimaces reminded me of Freddie. He had a lot of subconsciously inherited poses and gestures from him. Even in his laughter I could detect an influence of Freddie's strong personality. He simply marked all people around him. It was not the same contagious and stormy laugh, but there was a spark of resemblance.

His niece Jacqueline, Valerie and Stephen, danced all the time on the ledge and Jim was pulling them and wrapping himself in between their legs, hugging them, clinging to them, and messing around like a little boy. It was a wonderful sight, as he was so happy and childish.

After some time, Jim lost himself in a crowd of concert goers, so I went to look for him. Without his company it felt such a sad place. It was as if he had fallen through the ground, which made me very nervous. Finally, I found him by the entrance table, where he was joking away with one old blonde, not too different from frivolous Barbara Valentin. I asked him for a photo together. At first he looked impenetrable but as soon as I threw a sad eye and smirked, he brightened up and agreed as if saying "You know you can, anything for you, darling"

His niece Valerie took our picture. He then whispered to me that he hopes I´ll send him some pictures later.

After that he announced that we are going back inside to listen to the band.

I saw them from close-up and I must say that it was much better to just hear them. They looked rather too comic with all their wigs. It was something that would make Freddie laugh too.

I told Jim that they don´t look very natural,which he agreed with, but he said he couldn´t complain about their music. He was totally right, because musically they weren´t bad and the singer had a very authentic voice.

Inside, everybody was dancing and Jim joined in and circled around them like a rogalo.

The whole pub vibrated with intense and loving energy. There was no one who would be bored. Jim then threw himself in the arms of his two nieces, who gently caressed him in his hair and embraced him. He let them take care of him, now vulnerable like a little lost child all of a sudden.

There was something deeply touching about it. He had closed his eyes and sadly lowered his head, as if his tears flowed deep inside, in his invisible world. I realized at this stage, how much he really loved Freddie. I was looking at him and I had a desire to caress him and comfort him but instead, I had to stand aside.

"You can have everything and yet feel alone", Freddie once said. But I was glad Jim had his family and friends around him, who cared and protected him. Jim was going through sorrow and joy,both at the same time, it seemed.

During one of his many shananigans, I caught him messing around with his niece's boyfriend.

He sat him on his knees and imitated sexual intercourse. It would seem offensive and utterly crazy to someone who didn´t know him. But we all did. Jim was laughing like crazy and when he finally looked at me, he seemed a little embarrassed by his behavior and gave me a look that said"I hope you won´t tell on me to Freddie"...but it was hard to take him seriously.

We both smiled conspiratorially at each other. In that sense, our relationship no matter how short-lived, was special. We understood one another in thoughts. He winked at me a couple of times, tapping my beer like an old buddy.

In one moment in particular, Jim leaned over me and whispered: "You as a fan have right to be crazy, but them" ... pointing at our dancing group of friends ... " they are fucked up", he said with smile and he began to knock his finger against his forehead. An international gesture that doesn´t need an interpreter!

Jim then went to the toilets for a while, and I, like a stray sheep, followed him through crowds of oblivious dancers. He was somewhat drunk at that time and barely retained a balance. He staggered a little like a broken tree. No surprise after god knows how many Red bulls and vodkas! I was bit afraid for him, so I supported him inconspicuously by both shoulders from behind. He went to the toilet and cared too little to even close the door behind him. If anyone was looking, he would see Jim Hutton pissing in a toilet bowl in his bright canary shirt.

At that moment they played the most touching song of all, These are the Days of our lives .... I stood by the door and listened, watching the band and waited for Jim. I don´t know why, perhaps because of the fate that brought me here, I suddenly felt terrible sorrow. I was sorry for Freddie and Jim. Tears poured into my eyes. I didn´t cry, but was very close to it. Jim suddenly appeared next to me and noticed my face. "What about those tears? I hope you don´t cry", but at this stage I was lost for words. His concern made me sad even more. Something inside me forced me to caress him. I hugged him gently around his neck and put my head on his shoulder for a moment. I wanted to let him know that I am very sorry about what happened to Freddie. He did not resist. He knew he wasn´t the only one in the world who was missing him. I looked into his eyes, and I told him a sentence that I didn´t know why I said, but I strongly felt it..."Jim, he's here, he IS here." His expression was rather confused at first. "Do you believe me?" ... I said this with a seriousness and a certain degree of self-assurance that he froze for a while. He looked thoughtful. He knew what I was talking about.

I seemed to only confirm his inner conviction. He didn´t say a word. He wiped my tear away with the edge of his hand and without warning, took me firmly by the hand and led me through crowds back to our friends. There was a lot of care and love in his touch. The music was just playing and Freddie just sang "I still love you" and I knew he did.

I didn´t want to leave, but I knew I said everything I needed to. I could not leave without saying goodbye. It would be a sin after all this to just disappear into eternity. I interrupted him from the conversation with someone else, leaned over the table and said, "Jim, I'm leaving now, so I want to say goodbye, it was great pleasure meeting you." I smiled as much as my heart allowed me to and shook his hand. He stared up and thought for a moment, and then, without any hesitance said, "We do not see each other for the last time." I didn´t know at this time how true his words were.

I thought I did not understand well, so I asked again, "sorry?" and he repeated patiently and more resolutely, "I shall surely see you again," while taking my hand into his hands and kissing it gently.

He left me in amazement. I stumbled out from there perplexed but still I could hear him talking about me to someone there. He probably said he hadn´t seen a bigger nutcase in a long time, assuming from his cute teddybear smile. Gosh I loved him so much!

The next day I learned from my friends that Jim was looking next morning for his jacket that he had forgotten in his car. Few days later, I've sent him the promised photographs. Jacquie confirmed that he called in to say he had received them allright.”

2001

“...And then I returned back to Ireland in 2004.

I had the opportunity to welcome Jim to my own home in Carlow sometime in 2006. He was Stephen´s surprise. When the door opened up, I didn´t see him at first.

Then his head popped out from the side of the door and with a laugh he emerged a bit later. He hugged me like we hadn´t seen each other for million years. What I felt at that moment was indescripable. My dear Jim back in my life and in my own house!

We all sat in the living room, Jim settled down on the sofa, I was sitting on the ground and absorbed the precious moments because I knew time spent with him was only borrowed time. Then we watched Queen videos and talked about Freddie as if he were in the next room. It was so surreal. Me and Jim agreed that our favorite video was Scandal, and he just added that Freddie didn´t like it very much because he couldn´t make any creative input in it, although he loved the song.

Then we talked about his illness, about him taking up to 40 pills a day to sustain his health and he also explained the difference between AIDS and HIV, as many people still didn´t know. We have talked so much and - above all - we laughed all night, almost at everything. It was so easy to succumb to his funny personality once again and to his heartfelt laughter. He made jokes about fancying my ex-boyfriend, whom he lied on top of on the sofa. Long time ago, I´ve sent him a letter explaining to him how Freddie has impacted my life. But I've forgotten I´ve ever written it and now I was faced with the horror that I actually have sent it. I hoped he has forgotten about it, but when Jim and I met in the corridor of our house, I couldn´t but apologize to him for that letter, and for being so daring. To my surprise, he looked at me softly with his tired eyes and assured me that my letter was absolutely fascinating. Then we were interrupted by Stephen, who was just leaving a toilet and the conversation was cut short at that point. Unfortunatelly I would never have the chance to find out what was the next thing he was about to say, because I noticed he wanted to continue, if he weren´t interrupted.

When we were saying goodbye at the door, he treated me as an old friend. He simply kissed me on the lips, which utterly shocked me and made me laugh at the same time.

He invited us back to his house to have a little party, but my ex-boyfriend was not in the perfect mood and so we politely declined, which I will forever regret!

About a year after that I bumped into Jim several times in the city where we both lived, or we exchanged text messages whenever I needed to advise what room flowers would be best for our new house. Sometimes I learnt about how he´s doing through my ex-boyfriend, who used to hang out with him and drink few pints in a night bar. Once my ex confessed how Jim told him that I was a great person and he should be happy to have me. They must have been talking about me!!!!

Then I met Jim one night in the nightclub, where he was with his friends. He spent most of his time sitting in the lounge smoking a cigarette, having fun with younger girls. Wherever he was, you heard his laughter. That night my ex-boyfriend arranged for Jim and me to have a dance together.

Jim was just dancing on the dancefloor with some older woman. I remember he had his jumper tied around his waist. I just got onto the dancefloor, he looked at me all serious and pulled me close to him. It was some tediously slow song that I can´t even remember, I just know that we were staggering from side to side like two handiccaped penguins and that made me laugh hysterically.

He was such a clown! Now, however, I consider this moment as one of the most precious memories of him. It was my night.

Back in 2009, I have learned that Jim was diagnosed with cancer. My ex-boyfriend told me how concerned Jim was when informing him. He said, he wept. At that time I didn´t know how serious the situation was and I hoped Jim will get better in no time. I believed the doctors would somehow help him out of it. I saw him a little later at work when he came to our restaurant for breakfast.

I almost served him as another customer, but when I realized it was him, I pulled myself back into the kitchen and let the other girls serve him. He never noticed. I was in such state of shock. I didn´t know what to do, how to act and what to say. He was so thin, just skin and bone. His face was sinking, his eyes full of pain, a small tube leading from his nose to the oxygen device he carried in his backpack and a small canvas hat on his head. I couldn´t believe this was Jim, whom I have remembered being so full of life and joy only half a year ago. I wanted to cry like never before. I also felt embarassed by my own cowardly reaction. I wished more than anything in my life to hug him and say I loved him. I wanted to wish him a happy Christmas. But I was scared of my own tears, which would not help him in his situation.

I wrote him a message on the phone, but he didn´t respond. And then I got the terrible news. Jim died and somehow I also missed his funeral. I took a first taxi and went at least to his months Mass and visited his grave, bringing him daffodils and little white lantern with candle. It was so hard for me. His relatives stood above his grave. I said my prayers in a minute of silence. The air didn´t move and the moon was full in the night sky. It was dark and cold all around but I didn´t care.

I wanted to see him laugh and mess around like he used to. It was as if another star had disappeared and fell to the earth. If only life could last forever.”

2006-2010

Credits to Seraphiel’s blog. Please don’t repost without credits.

#jim hutton

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jaskiers-sweetkiss · 4 years ago

Text

Sunset Swerve - Part 9

Pairing: Luke x OC

Word Count: 5.7k

Warnings: discussion of death, mentions of drunk driving and car crash, light swearing

A/N: omg okay it’s finally here!! This part took me longer to get out because I wanted to finish the next one before I posted it. So, for the first (and probably last) time ever with this fic you’ll be able to read the next part immediately after this one!! There are some Jordan/Julie moments in here that I’ve been waiting for for a while so I’m really excited for you to finally be able to read them! Also, oops, not me finding more ways to add Talia Mar songs into this story. The lyrics are from her song Selfish and I would totally recommend checking it out, I just felt like the lyrics really fit Luke and Jordan’s relationship! Anyway, enough from me. Send me a message/drop a comment if you want to be added to the taglist and as always let me know what you think!

Part 8 Masterlist

___

The atmosphere in the Molina’s living room was conflicting. Though in the back of her head she knew it was unreasonable, Jordan had expected them to poof into the living room after leaving the cafe to find Julie being scolded by her father. Instead, they were met with Carlos lurking around the house with his iPad while Tia repeatedly tried to convince him that ghosts weren’t real (rude). Meanwhile, the four ghosts sat on the couch silently, the mood surrounding them somber as they considered what could be happening between Julie and her father. Jordan wasn’t sure what the standard punishment was for sneaking out after being grounded missing school and lying these days, but she was certain it couldn’t be good. Julie was probably being grounded for life and forced to quit the band.

“Typical adult,” Reggie whined, puling the other three from their thoughts. “Remember when we were kids and they never believed what we said?”

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure that was just a you thing,” Alex said skeptically before proudly adding, “I was always pretty trustworthy.”

“Yeah, me too,” Jordan added, staring at the boy strangely.

“Shouldn’t we be more worried about Julie?” Luke interrupted. “Her dad just busted her, okay? He’s probably making her quit the band”

“Woah, when did Luke become the voice of reason?” Jordan teased, trying to ease the guilt she felt.

Luke rolled his eyes but Alex and Reggie cracked a smile at her joke, making her feel a little better.

“Well, there’s nothing we can do about Julie right now,” Reggie spoke, a glimmer in his eyes that made Jordan worried about what he was about to do. “But, we can still help Carlos. Adults not believing children ends tonight.”

“Showtime,” he whispered to himself before leaning back and turning off the lamp behind him.

Tia gasped and Carlos perked up.

“‘Ghosts aren’t real,’ huh? How do you explain that?” Carlos asked and Tia shook her head.

“Lightbulbs burn out all the time Carlos.”

“Ooh, wrong answer Tia!” Reggie exclaimed hopping up from the couch and heading towards the window while the others looked on disapprovingly.

“Explain this,” he challenged, fluttering the blinds open and closed.

Luke, Jordan, and Alex all wished, each of them expressing equal parts disapproval and disbelief at the dark-haired ghost’s actions but none of them doing anything to stop it.

It took Tia calling him a demon for Reggie to stop, but it seemed he wasn’t quite done yet.

“Wait, I gotta get it on video!” Carlos explained and Reggie perked up again.

“Yeah, you do!” He agreed, now moving to stand in front of the basket of laundry on the coffee table. “Time for an old classic.”

Before anyone realized what he was doing, Reggie had taken ahold of the white sheet in the basket, throwing it over his upper body. The result was frantic screams from Tia as she dragged herself and Carlos out of the room.

“Do you have any idea what you’ve done?” Alex asked sternly as Reggie plopped down in the armchair, sheet discarded.

“Yeah, I do. I’ve defended every kid who’s never been believed,” Reggie answered with pride and conviction before adding, “Some might even say I’m a superhero.”

“Or the first person to be killed twice,” Jordan scoffed and Reggie’s eyes went wide as he realized what she was implying.

“We should probably get out of here before Julie finds out, huh?” He said, jumping up from his seat and running out of the living room.

Luke, Jordan, and Alex all exchanged exasperated looks before quickly following after him.

In hindsight, they probably shouldn’t have chosen the studio as their hiding spot but in their defense, they were sure that Julie was going to be detained for a lot longer than she was. It was only about ten minutes after Reggie’s haunting that they were found.

“You four,” Julie exclaimed, storming into the garage. “Are in so much trouble. Explain yourselves.”

She was immediately met with a barrage of shouting from the ghost, all of them thrilled to see her so soon and not paying attention to her words.

“Julie! You’re back!”

“How’d it go with your dad?”

“Did he make you quit the band?”

“Are you grounded for life?”

“Nuh-uh, stop speaking,” Julie commanded, face still stern as she crossed her arms over her chest. “I just watched my aunt run from my house screaming about ghosts. What did you do?”

Luke, Alex, and Jordan turned to stare at Reggie who was staring back at them with eyes wide. The three ghosts looked between each other, making a silent decision before turning back to Julie.

“It was Reggie.” Alex and Jordan said simultaneously and Luke gapped at them.

“Guys!” Reggie yelped, betrayed.

“Sorry Reg,” Jordan shrugged. “I’m much more afraid of her than you.”

“Reggie?” Julie whined, staring at the wide-eyed bassist.

“I just wanted to defend Carlos! Ta kept saying ghosts weren’t real but he was trying so hard to be a ghost hunter!”

“Aw, Reg,” Julie cooed, dropping her arms and stern facade. “That’s actually really sweet.”

“How does he do that?” Jordan whispered to Alex as they watched Reggie weasel out of trouble.

Alex just shrugged.

“You’re off the hook this time,” Julie sighed, addressing all the ghosts again. “But please stop scaring my family.”

They all nodded quickly in agreement.

“So, Julie, how’d it go with your dad?” Luke asked tentatively.

“I’m still in the band,” She started and the ghosts cheered excitedly. “But, we talked and I have to rearrange my priorities a little. School has to come first or he said he’ll pull the plug.”

“Wow,” Jordan said, shocked. “I would’ve been murdered for something like that.”

“Yeah, your dad is the coolest,” Reggie added and Jordan rolled her eyes with a smirk, they all knew how much the boy loved Ray.

“Yeah, he is,” Julie said softly, nodding slightly as she smiled to herself. “I gotta get back up to the house. School tomorrow.”

The ghosts all nodded understandingly, sending her off with big smiles and enthusiastic waves.

___

The next few days passed in a bit of a blur, though Jordan could distinctly remember feeling like some moments were never-ending. It seemed every passing day brought Julie and Luke closer together and Jordan felt as though she was being torn in two. On one hand, Julie was now one of her closest friends and she couldn’t help but be happy for the girl as she knew about her crush on Luke, but on the other hand, she really couldn’t help those flare-ups of negative emotions she couldn’t identify every time they were near each other. Then there were the moments that passed by too fast which had increasingly and alarmingly begun to include Luke.

She’d started using her free time to write after a rehearsal one afternoon. Jordan and Luke were sitting knee to knee with their guitars in their laps despite the practice having ended. They had been quietly working on some new melodies when Julie called Luke away to “ask him about something”. Luke had, of course, jumped up and followed her out of the garage immediately. It had been one of those moments that had ended all too soon, and the silence and emptiness that followed had felt like an eternity. Her swirling mixture of unidentifiable emotions had left her feeling quite angsty so she turned to the best outlet she knew: songwriting.

She knew the guys were nearly out of their minds curious as to what she was working on with all the time she’d been spending at the piano or strumming her guitar, trying to figure out melodies and chord structures. Reggie had essentially told her as much one afternoon before Alex had hit his shoulder and told him to give her her privacy. The drummer was extremely preceptive and sometimes Jordan wondered if he had a better understanding of what she was feeling that she did.

Still, she should’ve known it wouldn’t be long before one of them got too nosey and she should’ve done a better job keeping track of her stuff.

“Hey, has anyone seen my notebook?” She asked, walking into the garage the day after Luke and Julie’s ‘talk’.

She’d spent the morning wandering around Hollywood searching for her old haunts in an attempt to clear her mind but instead she was left with more writing fodder.

“Uh, I think I saw it over by the couch?” Reggie answered hesitantly, not looking up from the ‘old’ iPod Julie had gifted him (though technology like that hardly seemed old to any of them).

The boy hadn’t been wrong, per se. When Jordan turned to look towards the couch she did see her notebook, however, she found it in Luke’s hands. As his eyes scanned the pages her stomach plummeted and without even thinking she was marching over to the boy.

“Woah, Moss, What’s this?” He asked, pausing at a page before reading off the lyrics,

“I’m selfish, I’m selfish, I’m selfish

when it comes to you.

I can’t help it, can’t help it

crazy things that I do.”

“Give it back.”

“When I need you I come back to you.

I’m selfish, I’m selfish

when it comes to you.”

“I’m serious, Patterson,” she said sternly, grabbing the top of the notebook but not pulling for fear of ripping any of the pages. “You don’t see me poking around in your notebook.”

“You don’t see me leaving my notebook lying around,” he responded cheekily, letting go of the notebook. “Who’s it about?”

“None of your business.” She answered, face hardened as she glared at the boy, hugging the journal to her chest.

“I think it’s about me,” he smirked, leaning back on the couch.

“I think you’re a dumbass,” Jordan snarked back, refusing to give him the satisfaction as she spun on her heels, taking a few steps before poofing up to the nook she’d carved out for herself in the loft.

The next day was the exact opposite of the ones preceding them. Before, Jordan was using any excuse she could come up with to spend time with Luke- making edits to songs, working on melodies, hell she even stayed up all night reading her book while the guys were out so that she could pass it on to him the next day with the idea that once he started reading they could talk about it. However now, she stayed as far away as possible. Or at least she tried.

She poofed up to her spot in the loft after a band practice of pointedly ignoring Luke. She spent the afternoon and evening there, entirely uninterrupted. She’d tried to immerse herself into the next book in her series, hoping a new quest might suck her in and help her forget her thoughts for a while. Instead, they persisted and she put down her book, trading it for her notebook and guitar and spending the rest of the day strumming and humming softly as she worked out the lyrics and melodies. The song still plagued her, despite the anger she was feeling towards the boy.

She’d made it until after Julie had gone to bed before anyone interrupted her solitude.

“C’mon Moss!” Luke called from the garage floor. “We’re going exploring.”

Jordan didn’t miss a beat, not even bothering to look up from her notebook where she had just scribbled down a new chord.

“And why would I want to go anywhere with you?” She spat back, picturing the hurt look on the ghost boy’s face. She had expected it to bring her some sort of satisfaction as being snide had always done in the past, but this time it also brought a little pang in her chest.

“Look, I’m sorry alright?” Luke called up, sounding like he’d rather be saying anything else. “I shouldn’t have gone through your notebook, it was a dick move.”

Jordan blamed the pang in her chest for why she gave in so quickly, poofing down to join the guys.

“Fine.” She conceded, rolling her eyes and crossing her arms over her chest, refusing to look Luke in the eyes. “Where are we even going?”

When she did finally turn to look at the brunet, she had to look away immediately. His eyes were too full of raw and unhidden emotions that she was too afraid to search through for fear of what she’d find.

___

“Guys!” Reggie exclaimed, poofing into the garage a couple of mornings later.

Jordan had returned to her spot on the couch, notebook placed protectively beside her but her book open on her lap as she read. Luke was seated a couple of seats away, reading his own book, and Alex was sat across from him making a friendship bracelet like Julie had taught him.

“You’ll never believe what Ray just told me!” Reggie continued, and Jordan looked up, quirking an eyebrow at the boy. “Okay, well, he told Julie but I was there!”

Jordan nodded, satisfied with his correction.

“We’ve got a gig!”

While Luke and Alex hadn’t even looked up before, Reggie had all their attention now. Each of them tossing aside whatever they were working on and jumping off the furniture, bounding towards the boy and bombarding him with questions.

“Where?”

“When?”

“How?”

Reggie beamed, bouncing on the balls of his feet slightly before dramatically shushing them.

“The gig is here.” The statement caused the other three ghosts to erupt into chatter once again but Reggie held his hands up to quiet them.

“Ray said they could host a garage party and we can perform tonight!” Reggie explained further and the studio was once again filled with screams until he was able to quiet them down again. “He felt really bad about potentially messing things up with that manager from the open mic night that he and some of his buddies are gonna film us for YouTube!”

“What’s a YouTube?” Luke asked finally after the garage fell silent, each of the three ghosts in varying stages of confusion.

Jordan was pretty sure Julie and Flynn had shown her YouTube but she couldn’t remember if that was the one where all the fangirls went to post all kinds of stuff or if it was the one with all the different video genres that people upload. Or was it the one Flynn called the worst part of the internet, where people just talk shit about everyone and everything for no reason?

“YouTube,” Reggie began, clearly enjoying getting to be the one teaching them for once. “Is a website where you can make and upload your own videos. People post all kinds of stuff, playing video games, tutorials, and music videos.”

“We’re gonna record a music video? Like on MTV?” Luke gasped, eyes wide as he stared at his bandmate.

“Yes, dude! And Julie says if we get enough views we could go big!”

Luke gaped at the other three ghosts, opening and closing his mouth like he was going to say something but then changing his mind before he just poofed away altogether.

“Where’d you think he’s going?” Reggie asked and Alex shrugged.

Jordan tilted her head slightly, trying to think through Luke’s thought process. She rolled her eyes when she figured it out before poofing away herself.

“Where do you think she’s going?” Reggie asked, sounding more alarmed this time but Alex just sighed, shaking his head slightly as he collapsed back into his chair.

___

Jordan reappeared in the hallway of Julie’s school, poofing in right next to Luke and causing both him and Julie to jump in surprise.

“Sorry, my Patterson Idiocy Meter was going off,” Jordan smirked and Julie, “It lets me know when he’s doing something especially stupid.”

Julie gave a small chuckle at that while Luke stuck his tongue out at Jordan, who just gave him a false smile in return.

“Anyway,” Luke said dramatically, rerouting the conversation and turning back to Julie. “I was thinking, you should just ditch school today and come rehearse with us.”

“Something especially stupid like that,” Jordan said, smacking his shoulder with the back of her hand.

“No, I can’t,” Julie said firmly. “I promised dad school first.”

“Right, you were at school first, and now you’re leaving to go rehearse,” Luke grinned at his own cleverness and Jordan rolled her eyes.

“Stop trying to persuade her to do bad things!” Jordan huffed exasperatedly and Julie gave her a small smile of thanks.

“I really can’t,” Julie repeated. “Plus I promised Nick I’d be his dance partner…”

Jordan wiggled her brows at that, knowing about Julie’s feelings about the blond-haired boy.

“…and he’s heading this way,” she finished, pretending to hang up the phone in favor of talking to the boy.

“Well don’t you look sharp?” Luke teased despite the boy not being able to hear him and Jordan huffed irritably, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Uh-oh! I think somebody’s got a crush on Julie,” he continued and Julie glared at him and Jordan just about dragged him away by his ear.

Luke continued to mock the boy, mimicking his movements and expressions until he walked off. If Jordan hadn’t been trying to push down the feelings that were making her pissed at him, she might’ve even laughed.

“Well, he’s just too cute!” Luke gasped to Julie once Nick was gone and Julie rolled her eyes.

“Boundaries,” she reminded him. “I’ll see you after school.”

“Fine!” Luke called after her as she began to walk to her class. “Guess we’ll just have to carry you tonight, just like we always do!”

“Shut up, Luke,” Jordan rolled her eyes before calling down the hall at her friend. “Good luck Julie! You’ll be great!”

“Yeah, kill it on the dance floor!” Luke called, doing a small shuffle of his own in the middle of the hallway.

“Dork,” Jordan muttered under her breath but Luke still heard it, snapping his head around to give her a faux insulted look which earned him another eye roll.

“C’mon, we’ve gotta get rehearsing,” Luke spoke, but Jordan waved him off.

“Go ahead, I’ll be right there.”

Luke frowned slightly but poofed away anyway, leaving Jordan alone in the now empty hallway.

She wandered down the same way Julie had gone, deciding that she wanted to watch her dance. She hoped supporting her friend would give her the opportunity to stop thinking about a certain brown-haired ghost in any capacity.

____

She was right, it had helped. Of course, any tranquility she had found sitting on the gym bleachers was immediately destroyed the moment she reappeared in the studio. She had clearly arrived in the middle of something, but she wasn’t quite sure what.

Reggie was going on about “never forgetting your first ghost,” whatever that meant, and then Luke started talking about how talented of a drummer Alex was.

“I wouldn’t let all that stuff get in between you and what you love,” Luke finished saying when Reggie pipped up again.

“I don’t know, man,” he pondered. “Sometimes a little fire can make things better on stage. Like you and Julie.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Luke stuttered out, looking around nervously.

“C’mon, everyone can see the way you look at her when you sing,” Reggie continued, piling it on and for some reason, Jordan thought she might vomit. “You guys ooze chemistry.”

Luke’s eyes kept flitting around the studio, refusing to look at any of them until he made direct eye contact with Jordan who frowned, looking away as she swallowed thickly. Of course, everyone had noticed the chemistry between him and Julie. She’d half hoped she was imagining it but clearly it was real.

“Please never say ooze again, but you have to agree he’s right,” Alex shrugged, standing up from his drum set.

“No, no.” Luke denied, and Jordan eyed her shoelaces, not wanting to catch his eyes, afraid of what she might find. “I have chemistry with everyone I sing with.”

Alex and Reggie must’ve been giving him looks of disbelief because he huffed in that way a child does when they don’t get their way.

“Seriously, watch.”

Jordan watched his feet as he took a step towards her.

“You’d better take that step back,” she growled, hoping she sounded as menacing as she planned to and not like the kicked puppy her heart was making her feel like. She didn’t think she’d be able to take it. Looking in his eyes and feeling like he’d set her on fire but knowing it was all just to prove a point, that it wasn’t real for him.

Luke huffed again, and she watched his feet turn around walking in Reggie’s direction now as he began to sing.

“I believe, I believe that we’re just one dream away from who we’re meant to be,” knowing his back was turned to her, she looked up, watching as he inched closer and closer to a wide-eyed Reggie. “That we’re standing on the edge of… great.”

“Wow,” Alex remarked, “I see chemistry.”

“Yeah, that was pretty hot,” Reggie admitted, voice cracking as he spoke.

Then Luke kissed two of his fingers before placing them on Reggie’s lips. Jordan couldn’t stop the giggle that escaped her at the bewildered expression on the boy’s face and Luke whirled around to grin at her. She rolled her eyes in response, trying to ignore the smile and the feeling that something was flapping around in her stomach that it brought.

“Girls, amiright?” Reggie croaked out.

“Yeah,” Luke chuckled and Alex quickly chimed in.

“No,” he said definitively with a light chuckle.

Jordan barked out a laugh at that, poofing over to the drummer to give him a high five before poofing back to the front of the band setup. The three guitarists slipped their instruments back over their heads and all of a sudden they were rehearsing. Jordan was grateful for the distraction, music was always the best outlet for unwanted emotions.

They rehearsed like that until Julie got home from school, the four of them taking their music seriously while also goofing around. At some point, Jordan had relocated her amp to Reggie’s side of the setup, the two ghosts doing increasingly ridiculous and dramatic stunts with each take through the song. Julie walked into the garage just in time to watch Jordan and Reggie perform a run-through while attempting to backbend as far as they could while still maintaining the integrity of their sound.

“What on earth are you guys doing?” She asked, staring at the two ghosts as if they’d lost their minds.

“Julie! Thank goodness you’re here!” Jordan exclaimed dramatically, “Luke’s been singing your part and…” she widened her eyes, drawing her hand back and forth in front of her neck to silently convey that it wasn’t good.

“Hey! I take offense to that!” Luke exclaimed and Jordan rolled her eyes.

“That was the point,” she sassed, smirking at the boy who pouted in response.

Julie just shook her head exasperatedly at the pair.

“Let’s start practicing before these two can get into it fully,” she suggested to the group and Jordan looked down at her feet embarrassedly before poofing herself and her equipment back to the other side of the setup.

“Girl, where are you going?” Julie asked, her look of bewilderment barely concealing her grin. “This is our song, I want you next to me.”

Jordan didn’t even try to conceal her own grin at the offer, poofing back up by the girl.

They practiced that way for about another hour before they had the song to a place they were happy with. Luke was a bit stressed when Julie called the rehearsal. He wanted to run the song more but the rest of the band shut him down, reassuring him that they would be fine.

Jordan had started to pull out her small makeup stash to get started on her look for the performance when Julie invited her up to the house, asking for help picking out an outfit and suggesting that they get ready together. Jordan readily agreed, shouldering her backpack of clothes and scooping up her makeup as she followed the girl to her room.

She set her belongings down off to the side before joining Julie as the girl opened up the chest across from her bed.

“What’s that?” Jordan asked as Julie began to dig through the clothes.

“Oh, it’s my mom’s trunk with a bunch of her old clothes,” Julie explained, pulling out a piece of fabric. “I try to wear something of her’s when I perform, it’s as close as I can get to having her there with me.”

Jordan nodded, leaning back against Julie’s bed frame as she sat on the floor. It was an incredibly sweet and sentimental gesture and Jordan suddenly found herself with a lump in her throat and an overwhelming bout of homesickness as she fiddled with the small, silver pendant necklace she never took off. Her own mother had given it to her on her last Christmas.

“That’s beautiful,” she said softly, referring to the sentiment and the white shirt Julie was holding in front of her.

Julie made her way over to her dresser, rifling through pants as Jordan remained on the floor, nearly entirely lost in her thoughts.

“We all lost our parents too soon,” Jordan sighed deeply, voicing her thoughts as she leaned her head back against Julie’s mattress. “Reggie’s spent all their time bickering and left hardly any time for their child, Alex’s basically disowned him, and Luke ran away. I was the only one with a decent relationship with my parents and then they...”

She squeezed her eyes shut and sighed, unable to finish the sentence. Nearly twenty-five and a half years later and the wound was still as fresh as it had been on day one.

“It can be hard to talk about trauma,” Julie acknowledged sympathetically, sliding down onto the floor next to her, outfit forgotten on the bed. “Can I ask when they passed?”

“H-how did you know?” Jordan stuttered out, looking at the girl next to her in confusion. She knew she’d never said it. She was still barely able to think it.

“Grief recognizes grief, I guess,” Julie shrugged. “My mom and I were really close but after she died, I couldn’t even hear her name without crying for months, let alone talk about her. It took even longer to be able to look at pictures. You say you had a good relationship with your parents but I’ve never heard you talk about them.”

Jordan nodded thoughtfully at that. She closed her eyes, swallowing thickly before opening her mouth to speak.

“It was about five months before… before I died,” she answered, eyes clenched shut to stop the tears as images from that night swam behind her eyelids. “It was a car accident. Drunk driver, you know?”

She could still see the flashing lights in her driveway, the faces of the police officers blurred by her tears as they told her the news.

“I’m so sorry,” Julie said, and Jordan knew by the thickness of her voice that she was fighting back tears as well.

“Luke said there was a time where you were the closest thing to family he had. I assumed he was talking about when he ran away but was it because of what happened to your parents?”

Jordan nodded slightly, looking down at her hands in her lap.

“After their… after the funeral, I ran.” She explained, voice cracking. “I was less than a year away from turning eighteen, I figured I was better off waiting it out than any of the other options.

“Luke, uh… Luke sorta took me in. He’d been living in their practice studio- your garage- since he ran away and offered to let me stay with him. I would’ve turned him down but I didn’t exactly have anywhere else to go. I guess He was all I had. None of the guys knew, pretty sure they still don’t, so don’t like…”

“Mention it.” Julie filled in, staring at the ghost with a look of caring and understanding that she hadn’t felt in ages. “Don’t worry, your secret is safe with me.”

Jordan nodded, giving the girl a watery smile of thanks as she wiped the tears from her cheek with the back of her hand.

“Never thought I’d be back living in that studio but it’s better now. We have each other,” Jordan added, trying to lighten the mood. “And we have you.”

“Do you wanna cross over?” Julie asked curiously. “Figure out your unfinished business?”

“I do. When Alex first told us about it, it was all I wanted. A way to see my parents again,” Jordan sighed contemplatively. “But not just yet. I like to think they’re with your mom right now, and they’re all watching over us. I think they’d be proud.

“All my parents ever wanted was for me to do what I loved- to play music- and I’m doing that now, just never in the way I thought I would.”

“I’m glad I can help you achieve that,” Julie said sincerely, reaching over to cover Jordan’s hand with her own, forgetting that it would just phase through it.

“Me too,” Jordan smiled, wiping the fallen tears from her cheeks as she stood up, “We should probably stop crying and start getting ready, huh?”

Julie laughed, pulling herself off the floor as well.

“I have an idea for the song if you’re interested,” Julie said, changing the subject as they moved around her bedroom.

___

Jordan thought maybe after years of performing, the pre-concert nerves would fade away but as she stood in the garage bouncing uncontrollably she started to think they never would. She shook her hands out in front of her as Flynn began their introduction, the doors sliding open to reveal the crowd of high schoolers.

When Julie took a seat at the piano, Jordan felt someone grab her hand. She looked over to see Alex smiling at her reassuringly and Reggie holding his other hand. She smiled gratefully at the two boys, delighted by the fact that they had picked up the pre-show ritual. She turned back to see Luke looking at them all curiously, looking slightly upset that he was being left out of something. Jordan smiled at him, reaching out her spare hand which he took eagerly.

The four ghosts stood in silence, listening to Julie sing.

“Like a rubber ball, we come bouncing back. We all gotta second act inside of us,”

Jordan squeezed the boys’ hands briefly before they were all poofing to their spots on the makeshift “stage.”

Julie immediately jumped back to where she was playing her guitar, singing the first part of the chorus to her before moving to give Reggie and Alex some attention. As the ghosts joined in on the backup vocals Jordan noticed Luke give Julie his signature head nod, signaling that he wanted her to come sing with him and Jordan immediately flashed back to Reggie and Alex’s comments about the pair’s chemistry. She was grateful for the presence of mind to remember that they were being filmed so she fought the urge to roll her eyes and plastered a smile onto her face.

She angled herself away from him slightly as she picked up the second verse.

“We all make mistakes. They’re just stepping stones to take us where we wanna go. It’s never straight, no,” she sang to the audience, basking in the cheers and letting her negative feelings fade out only for them to come right back as she caught another head nod out of the corner of her eyes as he and Julie joined the vocals.

“Sometimes we gotta lean, lean on someone else,” Jordan sang to Julie, doing her best to ignore Luke and the unreasonable and boiling anger she was feeling. “To get a little help, until we find a way.”

Julie broke off when they hit the chorus again, making her way in front of the piano to interact a little with her classmates in the crowd. As they sang, Jordan and Reggie switched spots, the bassist joining Luke at his mic and Jordan singing to Alex from Reggie’s mic.

“Cause we’re standing on the edge of great,” Julie sang from the front as Reggie and Jordan returned to their own mics to sing the backups.

“On the edge of great.”

“Great.”

“On the edge of great.”

“Great.”

“On the edge of great.”

“Cause we’re standing on the edge of,” Julie sent Jordan a quick smile before stepping up onto the piano bench.

“Shout, shout. C’mon and let it out, out. Don’t gotta hide it, let your colors blind their eyes. Be who you are don’t compromise and shout, shout. C’mon and let it out, out.”

“What doesn’t kill you makes you feel alive.”

As Julie took on the chorus by herself, Luke stepped up beside where she crouched on the piano. Jordan tried to ignore the puppy dog eyes he gave her as he played his guitar solo, her stomach sinking as Julie smiled back at him. She focused her attention on Julie, drawing on her pride for her friend as she slid over to Reggie.

“Something big, something crazy, our best is yet unknown. That this moment is ours to own,” she sang with Reggie as they all joined back in, for the rest of the final chorus.

As the chorus came to an end Jordan stepped forward, sliding next to Julie on the piano bench, her guitar disappearing along with the guys. She played out the rest of the song, sharing the piano with Julie as they sang together.

“Running from the past, tripping on the now. What is lost can be found, it’s obvious.”

They shared a friendly smile before she disappeared. Reappearing in the garage as the crowd erupted into cheers. She watched proudly as Julie took her bows before catching Luke’s eyes. She frowned at the scrutinizing look he was giving her. It was like he thought she had wronged him somehow. What was his deal?

Part 10

___

JATP Taglist: @meangirlsx @morganayennefertyrell

Sunset Swerve Taglist: @oopsiedoopsie23 @angryknightstatesmantrash @onlygetaway @deni-gonzalez @advicefromnixxxx @brooke0297 @vicesvsvirtuesfanfic @cordeliascrown

#jatp #julie and the phantoms #jatp fic #luke patterson #luke patterson fic #luke patterson x oc #luke jatp #jatp luke #reggie peters #jatp reggie #alex mercer #jatp alex #julie molina #sunset curve #edge of great #sunset swerve

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enigma-im · 5 years ago

Text

Like a Virgin

Rating: Mature Relationship: Incubus x Female!human Warning: betraying of trust, broken friendship, incubus are cum brains, comfort, fluff, no sex

Word Count: 7797

Can an Incubus and a virgin be friends?

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"Tatiana, or Tina. I know it starts with a T. Either way she was crazy, even for my standards! I couldn’t bring myself to say no to her though, her energy was intoxicating," Silas rants. I pay attention for the most part but he caught me in the middle of something. He just kind of started talking. Honestly, I don’t mind his stories, they are funny or interesting most of the time. I secretly think I'm the only one he talks to about this cause I'm the only one who listens. Add comments here and there. Everyone else is too busy trying to get his attention just to get an excuse to look at him.

"Your appetite is going to get you into trouble if you find yourself struggling to say no," I pass him a sly grin. Out the corner of my eye, I see him rest his crossed arms on the table. I feel him staring at me, probably thinking of some stupid joke. I fiddle with my tablet as I finish my document.

"What about you, I can't be the only one having weird sexual adventures. Even someone as quiet as you must have some really kinky shit to tell," Silas rest his head against the table. Just in the corner of my vision. I ignore him for a second as I write my last sentence.

I look over at him," what's that?"

"What's the weirdest sexual encounter you have had," he repeats. I cock an eyebrow, eyeing him for a second.

I turn back to my tablet," I've never had sex." I don’t notice him recoil from me. I open up my email and send over the file to another coworker. Once I finish I turn off my tablet and give Silas my full attention. He looks shocked. His mouth is slightly open and his eyes wide.

"what," I ask.

"You never had sex," he tilts his head. His eyebrows furrowing in concern.

"Nope, never have," I shrug. It's not a big deal, I know if I really wanted to then I can find some stranger. Still, that has never been alluring. I would rather be in a committed relationship before I do anything like that.

"How old are you, aren't you like 24? How can anyone live that long and not at some point had sex," he asks.

"I just haven't, it isn't a big deal," I begin to get embarrassed. When I was a teenager I thought about sex often. As I got older it has lost its appeal. I never dated in college because I was busy with work or school. Then finding a job I didn’t really bother with dating. After 21 I just didn’t care anymore.

Silas doesn’t share my sentiment.

"Is it a religious thing? Are you waiting till marriage or..," he sits down next to me," like you are pretty, I can't imagine you haven't had offers. Then its got to be a personal choice. So spill it, what's up." I begin to fold into myself, his questions making me nervous.

"I just haven't. there haven’t been any situations where I've had the choice. Not that I've put myself into those situations either way. So let's just drop it," I cross my arms and turn away from him. He grabs my chair and turns me back to face him. His face is serious, I've never seen him serious before.

"Are you interested in it? Are you asexual," he keeps questioning. Wanting to get away from his scrutiny I get up, knocking his arm from the chair. I walk around the seat, keeping it between us. "its ok if you are, I'm just trying to wrap my head around this," he tries to clarify.

"I rather not talk about this, if you don’t mind. My break is over so I'm going to go back to my office now," I try to be calm. I'm not going to hold this against him. He is an incubus, so I understand his interest in the topic. It doesn’t mean I have to answer him.

He drops it," alright, sorry. Didn’t mean to pry. Have a nice day, Chloe." with that we part ways.

I don’t see him again till the next day. What a weird day that was too.

"Hey, Chloe," someone stops me in the hall.

"Hey," I look the man over. He is a tall lanky fellow, short black hair and glasses. I remember seeing him around but his name evades me. I think it starts with an R.

"So I heard you are into local bands. You mentioned visiting Ricardo's on Saturdays. I was thinking, my brother's band is playing this weekend and I was curious if you would like to come see him," he asks. The entire time he is talking I'm trying to think of his names. Robert, Richie, Rhett? It takes a second for me to realize he asked a question.

"Oh, this Saturday? I'm going to visit my mother, my cousins are coming in for the weekend so I wanted to stop by and say hi," I answer honestly. I'm curious about his brother's band though. It's nice of him to promote his sibling like this.

He drops his shoulders," right, maybe another weekend then?"

"Yea, just let me know when he plays again. I'll stop by and check him out," I smiled curtly," but I really got to go, see you around?"

"Yea, sure. Later, Chloe," he waves. He looks a little dejected but I can't find myself to care.

The day gets a little weirder when I'm visited by another coworker.

"Chloe, working hard as usual," I look over my desk to Derek. He is a short stout fellow with brown hair. Derek is a funny guy but I found his personality to be too overpowering.

"Of course, hard work promotes better values," I curtly smile. I believe that is the end of the conversation until he steps closer to my desk. He rests his elbows on it, leaning beside me.

"Working hard all the time, when do you ever take a break. Perhaps we can grab lunch later? Get out of the building. I know a nice little pizza joint down the way," he offers.

"No thanks, I'm lactose intolerant so pizza doesn’t agree with me. Also, pizza without cheese is an awful idea. I may not be able to eat it much anymore but I know cheese makes a pizza," I try to joke. I know Derek is being friendly like usual but I can't bring myself to tolerate him today.

"Then how about the Chinese place on by the bank, they ha-,"

"Derek, stop bothering Chloe and get your ass back here," someone calls from out the door. Derek jerks his head over, glaring at the woman down the hall.

He turns back to me with a grin," Guess I have to pester you for a date later, till next time." with that he gets up and leaves. I watch him go with a confused look.

"He was asking me out?"

The time till lunch is filled with men, and a few women, coming up to me. For the most part, I think they were all asking me out. Some stumbled over their words so I didn’t understand. The ones I do know for sure I politely decline. I don’t wanna date, especially not someone from work. Most of them take it nicely, a small few are rude. Like Jose.

"Why not," Jose glares," it will be fun."

"I'm just not in the market for a boyfriend right now," I try to inch around him so I can head to the cafeteria. He slams his palm into the wall beside me.

"Not in the market? Silas told me otherwise," he leans in with a smirk.

"Silas told you," I stare confused. Pushing myself into the wall to get away.

"Yea, he said you were interested. Mentioned you would be an easy thing too," he tries to lean in closer. I dart underneath his arm, not bothering with him anymore. "Hey, we aren't done," he calls down the hall. I stop and glare at him over my shoulder.

"You ever talk to me again, I'm calling HR," I sneer. He rolls his eyes but walks off.

That dick! Not Jose, but Silas. What he doing telling everyone I'm interested? Telling people I'm an easy lay or something.

I change my course from the lunchroom to Silas' office. I stomp up the step, clenching my tablet in a tight grip. I slam open the door and march inside. I find him sitting in his chair, bent over his desk writing. When the door bangs against the wall he looks up. He starts with a smile but drops it when he sees my glare.

I slam my hands on his desk," Don’t you ever butt in my love life again. If I find out you are telling people that I'm 'easy' again I will cut your damn balls off. Do you understand me?" he sits back in his chair a little worried. Perhaps a little scared. My words take a second to sink in for him. Once they do he sits up.

"I never told anyone you were 'easy'. I said you they should try asking you out. Who said you were easy," he furrows his brow.

I slam my hands on the desk again," You shouldn’t be telling anyone anything about my interest. I never asked for your help, I never wanted your help. I've been asked out all day and you know damn well I don’t want that kind of attention."

He stands," What do you mean you don’t want that attention? You need that kind of attention. It isn't healthy to sit alone all day every day in your apartment. I want you to be happy, and I think this will do that. Excuse me for trying to be a good friend." I glare up at him, he glares back.

"If this is your idea of being a good friend then I rather you weren't," I sneer.

"What are you saying," he crosses his arms.

"I don’t want to be your friend. Friends I want around are ones who respect my privacy, not someone who makes people treat me like a thanksgiving meal. If I don’t want a relationship that is my fucking choice, Silas. Don’t talk to me or talk to anyone else about me. We are done," I push away from his desk. Moving it a little in the process. Then before he can say a word I stomp out his office. Running the conversation through my head till I'm gritting my teeth.

Who does he think he is telling people to proposition me. Does everyone in the office know I'm a virgin now? Everyone is going to look at me like a challenge. See who can get into my pants first. Fucking pigs. Silas the piece of shit.

The entire day is ruined until I get home. I put on some PJs and watch my favorite show. I don’t need Silas, the asshole. If I wanted help I would have asked him.

The rest of the week I avoid Silas. Which is harder than I thought. He seems to be everywhere I go. I head to the copying room, he is in there. I walk down for lunch, he is there. I go to a coworkers desk and he is talking with them. I can't tell if he is doing it on purpose or it’s a coincidence. Hardly matters, ill just sit in my office like a hermit.

Friday, just before quitting time I get a visitor. There is a knock on my door. I look up and my polite smile drops.

I look back down at my work," get out."

"I was going to ask if you are done throwing your tantrum but I see you aren't," Silas says walking in the room. I try my hardest not to look up. If I have to act like a child for him to leave then I will. I hear a chair squeak against the tile floor. I accidentally glanced up at him. He is sitting with his arms folded over his broad chest. He is staring straight at me, waiting for me to answer. I won't.

"Come on, do you want me to apologize? I don’t know what I did wrong but ill say sorry anyway. I'll be the bigger person here, I'm sorry Chloe. Is that better," he asks. I barely notice my grip tightening on the pen till my paper rips. The pen digging too hard into the page.

"You honestly don’t know what you did wrong," I grit my teeth," you selfish dick head." I glare up at him. He doesn’t seem phased. Knowing him he probably never been in a fight with a woman. Use to them falling at his feet because of his sexual prowess. Ain't going to work here.

"I tried to do something nice for you and you ignore me like a child. So excuse me for being a little confused," he snaps.

"Are you fucking kidding me right now? You have everyone in the office looking at me like I'm some kind of challenge. I get asked every day by people to go out with them to bars. Knowing they are only hoping to get in my pants. Trying to get me wasted enough to sleep with them so they can come here and brag they got me first. I never asked for your help. If I wanted to get laid I would have done it by now," I cross my arms. Glaring over at him, daring him to downplay my feelings on this.

"If you could have gotten laid then why haven't you done it. I've been trying to wrap my brain around this all week. You are an attractive young woman and you have never gone out to get someone. I know you are interested in it, you listen to my stories with such open wonder. I thought for the longest time you have, you hold your own in a conversation about it so well. Why are you a virgin," he asks. I don’t need to answer him. I don’t have to justify my choices. Yet, I feel like I do.

"Because I never found the one. I don’t trust anyone enough to not hurt me after. Most of the guys I might have had sex with I knew they would either leave before I woke the next day or brag about it to friends. I was always the pretty one, nothing more. Hell I know I got my job because I was attractive. I don’t want a one night stand or a simple night of pleasure. I want a relationship, I want to trust them not to leave me once they had their fill. I'm not just a body to be used, I'm a person," I finally answer. It's true, I haven't trusted anyone. Everyone makes sex into a simple thing. Just shared pleasure that doesn’t have to mean anything. But to me it does, I want the connection. To please someone while they want to please me.

He sits there for a second. Eyeing me as he thinks.

"What makes you think that those people aren't in it for a serious thing? Who has made you believe that people are just there to use you," he asks calmer.

"Because you talk about doing that every day," I scowl," answer me honestly. Have you ever stayed the night at one of your partner's home? Made them breakfast the next morning as thanks for the night before." he tries to glare at me but I know the truth. I may not trust people to fuck me but he doesn’t trust people to want him after. I've known Silas for almost a year and this is a fact I gathered early on. No one wants a relationship with an Incubus. They are known for being unfaithful so why risk it?

"No," he drops his head, " I'm sorry Chloe." this is more sincere. I wasn’t ready for that. I know our relationship isn't much. We are friends because of the circumstances. If we didn’t work together then we would have never even spoken to each other. I never expected him to actually apologize.

"thank you," I mumble. He lifts his head and looks at me through his lashes.

"Are we still friends," he asks. It comes out soft, to my surprise. I think about it. I don’t think I can trust him after this. The little faith I had in him was gone once he told everyone I needed to be fucked.

"No," I answer. I find I can't look him in the eye when I said it. I do notice his shoulders dropping.

Without another word he stands, nods, then leaves. After that, I don’t see him as much.

The weekend comes and goes. I get to see my cousins and forget about the situation for a while. The week goes smoothly. I don’t see Silas at all that week. Come to hear it, most people haven't seen him. He comes into work and doesn’t socialize like he used to. I want to feel responsible for that but I know it isn't me. We weren't that close. He is a social butterfly, talks to everyone. I was just the only one who didn’t actively flirt with him. I listened to what he had to say, I was polite.

After about two weeks I forget about him. I don’t worry about his whereabouts or comings and goings. Some coworkers still try to get me to date them but more are asking me about Silas. I don’t care.

Its Saturday and I'm sitting on my couch. I flip through Netflix for anything new to watch. Shoving handfuls of chips into my mouth. The oil getting on the remote as well as my pants.

There is a knock at the door. I jump at the harsh noise of a fist against wood. It echoes through my apartment. I stare at the entrance, waiting for the sound of footsteps down the brick stairs. Instead, I get another knock and a voice.

"Chloe, I need to talk to you," the voice is muffled. It’s a man for sure, but unless I get up and check I don’t know who it is. I place my bowl on the table then walk over to the door. Knowing the dangers of opening up to anyone I grab the bat near my fridge. I step over and peak through the eyehole. I see a fisheye view of Silas. His hair is sticking to his forehead and his clothes look wet.

"Chloe, please," he drops his head to the door. Part of me wants to open it just so he can trip forward. But another part wants him to leave now.

"Go away," I yell. Still looking through the hole I see his head pop up. He looks directly at the peephole now.

"Chloe, please. Just five minutes, that’s all I ask," he holds out his hands. I can see he is dripping wet.

"Why should I," I yell back.

"Because I want to apologize. I've had time to think and I really need to talk with you," he is practically begging. I have never heard him beg. Even in his stories, he is never the one to be a sub, to beg for anything. He is probably used to people throwing themselves at his feet just to get a taste of him.

I try to fight my goodwill. I shouldn’t let him in. but it's raining out and he is standing here soaking wet just to talk to me. Yet I don’t owe him anything, just let him get sick. Still, I'm curious.

With a sigh, I grabbed the doorknob. Pulling it open with a reluctant grimace. This better not be a mistake.

I look up at a soaked Silas. His white button-up is taunt to his torso. I can see his undershirt easily now. His black slacks are dripping over his shoes and onto the doormat. He looks tired. Black rings under his eyes along with his cheeks being hollow. He doesn’t look healthy.

"You look like shit," I deadpan. I didn’t want to be the first one to talk but I couldn’t resist the jab.

He chuckles," yea, I've noticed. Can I come in?" I look him over again. He isn't coming in here dripping all over the place.

"You are soaked, ill grab a towel," I turn and walk to the linen closet. I grab a towel and walk back over. I nearly trip when I see him taking off his shirt. Kicking his shoes off beside the mat. He balls up his shirt then reaches back and grabs the undershirt. I get to see his flat stomach, then his toned pecs. Silas isn't buff by any standards. He has definition but not great mass. He doesn’t have abs but his stomach is flat and toned. His chest is broad but it isn't strong. Only his arms hold any girth. His biceps and shoulders being the only things with muscle.

He looks up at me," Sorry. Thought it would be easier if I had less to dry." I come back to myself.

"It's alright, here," I walk over and hand him the towel. Not looking at him anymore. I turn away from him and go to my couch. Sitting on the farthest end. I watch as he dries himself before stepping in. he wraps the towel around his waist then removes his pants from underneath. I look away as he does.

"You can look, I'm not showing anything," he laughs. I still don’t look. It's hard to be mad at someone when they are half-naked in your living room. Cant give a proper glare if I'm blushing. He is the first man I've seen to this level of disrobe.

"What do you want," I decide to get to the point. I don’t want him here longer than he has to be. After a second of him not answering I look over at him. He is staring down at the ground, his hair blocking his eyes.

"I miss you," he starts. I look at him confused and skeptical. I don’t trust him. He looks over when I don’t answer, " I wanted to respect your choice of not wanting to see me but…" he sighs.

He takes a moment to collect himself," I've been a mess without you. I couldn’t understand why either. I know I liked talking with you but this feeling is a lot. I think about you constantly, I catch myself walking to your office often. It hasn’t been just my thoughts you are ruining too." he looks up at me, in the light, his face looks terrible. The low light makes his face look almost skeletal. I can see the shadow of his ribs under his pecs. Has he not been eating? Then it clicks, he hasn’t been feeding.

"What did you do," I find myself asking," are you feeding?"

He shakes his head," I haven't since we stopped talking. I can't bring myself to go out. For the first week, I was confused. I forced myself out the second week but I did something I haven't done ever. I said no to someone. I didn’t want to fuck them, the idea of it was sickening at the time. I had to ask my brother what was happening. Maybe I was sick and needed some help. My brother told me differently." I watch him, worried about him but not wanting to show it. I've known the guy for a year, we got a little close. The time I've known him I never heard him having this issue. He has never not fed. He is a man whore to the max! this is so out of character.

"What did he tell you," I ask. He opens his mouth to answer but shuts it. He tries again but nothing comes out. He drops his head to his shoulder, wincing. Running his fingers through his wet hair and adjusting his towel too much.

"Why is it so hard to tell you," he groans," I just want you to know that I'm honestly sorry about telling everyone. At the time I thought I was helping but it isn't till later that I realized you never wanted my help. Also that it isn't the help I wanted to give you. I want you to be happy, truly I do. In my dumb cum brain way of thinking I thought that my way of helping would be what makes you happy. I'm sorry. I still want to help but now it's more complicated. If not selfish now."

I sit up," what do you mean?" I'm worried. If his way of helping before was to make me a living target for people at work, I hate to see what it is now.

"I have to tell you something, and I need you to work with me on this. I don’t know if I can say it if I'm being honest," he runs his fingers through his hair again," you know I care about you. We have been friends for a while. I cherish our conversation, you were the only one who listened. Not even the sex stuff but everything. Like when I told you about my insecurities, I knew I could trust you with them. I know you are someone I can trust, and I want you to trust me." he walks over to the couch. Flopping on the other end. He leans over and looks me in the eyes. The action sends a tingle down my spine. His eyes are searching, I can feel him searching.

"What are you doing," I lean hard against the arm of the couch. He scoots a little closer. Still looking at me, in me. It feels invasive. After a second he smiles.

"You know one of my powers is emotions. On the account I feed off them it should seem self-explanatory. Either way, I can see a person's feelings. Strong ones radiate from someone like a beacon, do you know what I see when I look at you," he cocks a brow. I shake my head," I see loneliness. When we first met it was like being slapped. You were pouring with it. So I was drawn to you, wanting to fix that in some way. My intention was pure, I wanted to see you smile. Make your day less alone. When you stormed into my office I could feel the rage boiling off you. It was suffocating. But now, now I can see fear, worry, and affection. Fear for what I'm saying, worry for me, and affection for me. So, Chloe, I will tell you what I came here for." he scoots close enough for our legs to touch. He grabs my hands away from my chest, resting them in my lap. Then he just stares at me, a smile gracing his lips.

"What," I mumble, "What did you come to say?"

"That I'm in love with you," he finally answers. His words are like a jolt down my spine. It's of both joy and rage. I rip my hands from his hold. He frowns.

"Fuck you," I hop over the arm of the couch. Putting as much distance between us as I can. He watches me as I pace the room. He looks sad but I couldn’t give a damn at the moment.

"You don’t get to fucking say that," I snap at him," you don’t get to be an asshole then decide you did it out of affection. That isn't how this works, Silas." he jumps from the couch. Walking over to me but I hold my arm out to stop him.

"Please, Chloe," he tries to talk.

"No, don’t 'please Chloe' me. This isn't fair, this isn't ok! You don’t get to ruin my work-life then march in here two weeks later saying you love me. You lying piece of shit," I point at him. As he hears my last words he sneers. Grabbing my hand he pulls me close. I fight in his hold, not giving him the satisfaction.

"Chloe," he shouts, "Stop." he wraps his arms around me, pinning my arms to my sides. We glare at each other, "I may have been less than savory but I will never lie about my feelings to you. You can kick me, punch me, spit on me, but know that I tell the truth. I care about you, I want you, I love you. Do you understand me?"

"I don’t believe you," I squint up at him. I fight in his hold again, he lets me go with a sigh. I back up far enough away that I feel he cant grab me. He still looks dejected. His fist clenching at his sides for a second before he wipes them on the towel.

"Chloe," he looks up between his lashes, " after I last saw you I was sad. I missed our conversations. I talk to everyone at work but you are the one I looked forward to seeing. I always knew I had feelings for you. I never pushed anything cause I didn’t want to lose you because of who I am. See, no one wants to be friends with an incubus, think we are a bunch of silver-tongued sluts. My last close friend stopped talking to me when he got a girlfriend. He thought I would steal his girl away, how ridiculous.

"But after that day I starved. I couldn’t bring myself to feed off anyone. The idea of touching someone was disgusting. I thought I was sick. Not once did I think it could be any other reason. So I called my brother after the first week. I was- I am- in pain. I'm starving like you wouldn’t understand. When I called him and told him he asked if I was in love with anyone. I laughed at him, of course not. Then he asked again, then before I could actually think on it your name popped up. Suddenly it all made sense. My brother said that I'm bonded to you now. I didn’t know what that meant, sounded a little cliché. It seems that I have made a connection with you, I cannot bring myself to feed on anyone else. I won't even if I had a choice because all I want is you. All I need is you. All I can think about is you." I try to glare at him. I really try to be mad but I look at his body. He looks so weak, so malnourished that it hurts me.

"bonded," I ask," what does that mean for me?" I still don’t trust his words. I know how convincing he can be. Yet I know there is truth there. He would never starve himself for anyone.

He takes a step closer but stops when I take one back," nothing. Not unless we… it means nothing to you."

"Not unless we what," I ask. He looks at me, glancing between my eyes as he thinks. He doesn’t answer me, instead, he turns to the couch and sits. His leg spread and his hands on his face. He sighs. I take a step closer," Silas." he sighs again. Dropping his hands to his lap he looks me over.

"Can you do that again," he mumbles.

"Do what," I ask wearily. He runs his hands over his thighs.

"Can you say my name, its intoxicating to hear my name come from your lips," he grips the towel.

I fold my arms," just answer the question." he rolls his eyes before dropping his head back to the couch.

"It doesn’t matter, just give me a second and ill leave," he grumbles.

"No, I let you inside so you can answer my question," I snap. He lifts his head a bit to look at me. Giving me a once over before dropping against the couch again.

"I will answer if you answer one question of mine," he offers.

"No, I don’t owe you anything," I sneer.

"Humor me," he tilts his head," Please."

I glare at him for a second but give in," fine."

Silas watches me for a moment," Do you like me? Before all this. Before I fucked up royally. Did you even for a second think of me as an option?"

I ponder lying for a second. Of course, I've thought of him. He is literally sex personified. Even besides that he was funny, I liked talking with him. I knew there wouldn’t be a chance, he was too interested in partying and sleeping around. It wasn’t my taste. I rather not date a man whore. But he made a good friend, I got along with him well enough.

"For a second. But I had no interest in dating someone who has a body count in the triple digits," I jab. He doesn’t acknowledge that part. He looks hopeful for a moment.

"Was it because I was an incubus or because I was me," he sits up.

"Nope, I answered your one question, now answer mine," I chide.

He ignores me," Did you like me or what I could do? When you had that thought did you think because of the pleasure I could give you or because you enjoyed me?"

I balance on my other foot, looking away from him," Not unless what, Silas?"

He stands," Chloe, did you like me. Answer the question." I try to speak but he talks over me," Chloe, how did you want me?" I try again but he interrupts," Chloe!"

"Fine, I liked you! You were funny and silly. You liked stupid memes and hate tomatoes in your salad even though you always buy them with tomatoes. You stop talking anytime you saw a cute dog, it was adorable, and you actually listen to teen pop music. I couldn’t have cared less that you are an incubus, that didn’t matter. I liked you and all your silly quirks," I snap. He stares at me shocked. I turn away, I cant look at him.

"Chloe," he whispers. He sounds closer. I still don’t look. "Chloe," he mumbles near my ear. I feel his hand grab my arm. Unfolding them and bringing them around his waist. I let him, not having the fight anymore. I hold him lazily while he wraps his arms around my back. Pressing my head to his chest.

"You hurt me," I mumble against him," I trusted you not to tell everyone. It wasn’t really a secret but I didn’t want everyone only talking to me because of that."

He pets my back," I know. I'm sorry. I will do anything to make it up to you. It was a terrible thing to do and I will do whatever I can for you to trust me again. All I ask is you give me a chance." I can't answer but I nod against him. I feel his chest deflate as he sighs in relief. Holding me just a little tighter, kissing my hair.

We stand there in silence for a moment. I hear his heartbeat slowly against my ear. It sounds weak. I can feel his spine along my fingers. He really is starving.

"Silas," he sighs again," you need to eat." he nods against my head.

"I can't," he whimpers," the thought of eating from anyone but you make me sick." I lean back in his hold, looking at his gaunt face.

"Is there another way for you to feed," I ask," I know you can get like snacks from other emotions."

He presses my head back against his chest," Don’t worry about me, alright. Just let me hold you and that will be enough." I don’t push it.

"Then, can you tell me about being bonded?"

He stops breathing, "Do I have to?"

"Yes," I answer. He huffs.

"If we ever make love then I cannot feed from anyone else. You wouldn’t grow weak from me, and you could read me like I read others. It’s a very deep thing, it cant be broken after that," he finally explains. I gasp into his chest.

"Read you," I ask. I run my fingers over his spine. I can feel the hairs rise and his body shiver.

"Right now you are sad, and emotionally drained. I can read that from you," he explains," you would be able to do that with me." I nod. There isn't much I can say to that. He is right, I'm so drained. I want to be mad at him but seeing him as this hurts. Seeing him so weak and starving. I don’t want to believe he cant feed from others. That the idea of being with anyone else makes him sick but the evidence is there. I'm tired of thinking, I know this feels right.

I lean back and look up at him. He stares right back. I reach up and grab his jaw with one hand. Pulling him down to me. He doesn’t resist, probably too scared to. I stop him when our noses touch. His eyes are beginning to close and his lips are slightly parted.

"You will never do what you did again, do you understand me," he nods," if you hurt me even a little we are done. I never want to see you again or hear from you. Is that clear?" he nods again. I guess that finishes it. I lean in and take his lips for mine. When we meet it feels like fire. Like my body slowly began to engulf in flames. Starting at my lips then working over my body. Silas groans into my mouth, pulling me closer. My legs sit between his, his knee hitting my thigh. His crotch sits flush against my stomach. I can feel his cock from under the towel. I wouldn’t say he is hard but he is getting there.

I reach up and cup both sides of his face. Pulling him just a bit closer as he sucks on my bottom lip. Nibbling and licking as his hands pet along my back. He is a great kisser, I find myself thinking. I meet his tongue with my own, I feel his chest rumble against mine. I lure his tongue into my mouth where I suck on it. Feeling a familiar tingle in my stomach as I do.

Without warning, he pulls from me. Spit hanging between us that he catches with his tongue. He stands straighter, still petting my back. His eyes are black like I've never seen before. His mouth is parted showing off his teeth, his fangs.

"Chloe, you are more potent than anyone I have ever tasted," he growls as he drops his head to my neck," But I cannot bring myself to take from you anymore right now. I still need to earn your trust." he kisses my neck with a few lazy pecks before licking me. He growls, his teeth pressing against my throat. I don’t notice my heavy breathing, but I do notice his.

"Silas," I sigh. I'm not sure what I was going to say but knew I should talk. He groans, bucking his hips against me after he hears his name.

"Do it again," he licks my neck.

"Silas," I peck his cheek. He bites my neck, it feels like electricity coming from his teeth.

"You are too divine," he whispers against my skin. He quickly leans back, tilting his head to his shoulders. He looks a little dazed, his cheeks are less taunt but he still has bags under his eyes. Licking his lips he gropes my hips. "I'm sorry love, I seem to be a bit drunk off you already," he laughs," I may need to sit down." he lets go of me and nearly falls as he turns to the couch. I grab his arm and help him to the seat.

He falls against the loveseat, making it hit against the wall. His head drops against the cushion, his hands spread wide on the sofa. Silas lazily drops his head to the side, looking up at me. He pats the seat next to him.

"We aren't doing anything else but please sit. I need to touch you," he slurs. I can't help but chuckle at his drunk state. I take the seat beside him. He quickly grabs me and pulls me close. Our sides flush, he rests his hand on my thigh.

"Little drunk? Does this happen often," I ask with a smirk.

He eyes me with a weak grin," not at all. Not since I was young. I have built a tolerance but yours is very strong. Like the hardest of liquors but I rather compare you to a glass of fine wine." I find myself rolling my eyes at him. The flirt.

We sit in silence for a while. Just enjoying each other's company for the time being. I get a moment to think about him, about what he said. It's strange to figure that he of all people could be in love. Let alone in love with me. I try to doubt it but I can't bring myself to. He seemed so distraught when I called him a liar. Like I hit him or something. It's hard to think he could ever be interested in me, actually enjoy our conversations. He talked with everyone at work, the social butterfly compared to me. He was just a friendly guy, it kind of came with the territory.

"I should be getting out of your hair now," he mumbles. I look up and see he is falling asleep. His head tilted back and eyes closed. He doesn’t make an attempt to move just yet.

"Sleep on the couch, you can leave in the morning," I sit up. I stretch my arms above me, groaning with the exertion. I jump when his fingers glide along my side. He chuckles. I glance over and his eyes are just barely open, a soft grin on his face. He drops the grin and pets along my hip.

"I can't believe I never saw it before this," he stares," it was always there."

"What was always there," I ask as I sit back on the sofa. He adjusts his hand so it's wrapped around my middle. He leans on his side so we are face to face.

"You are so beautiful. Funny, charming, smart, kind, and best of all, you like me," he grins. I find myself grinning along with him." but it has always been there. I've liked you for a while but I knew you wouldn’t go out with someone like me. Hell, I couldn’t promise you that id actually stick around too long. But recently, even before my dumb move, I think I've always loved you. It's easy to see it now. Looking at you makes my heart feel at home. I can say for certain that I will never leave you. Unless you tell me, ill be right by your side." I look at his eyes for lies. Any indicator that he wasn’t being honest. I found nothing, just genuine care. This is what I've wanted for a while. Just open tenderness with another person. I think I can forgive him for being an idiot.

"kiss me," I look down at his lips.

He leans back a little," don’t be asking for things you don’t understand now. I'm just coming down from being drunk if we kiss I can't stop this time."

"Good, I don’t want you to," I smile up at him.

He sits up," no, I got to take you out on a date. Actually, try to woo you. I owe you that much, if not more." I crawl over and straddle his lap. He instinctually reaches up to hold me but thinks better of it at the last second. His hand hovering over my thighs. I run my hand up to his bare chest, feeling his warmth. I look up at his conflicted face. He looks down at me but then looks away.

"Take you out to a nice restaurant, shower you with compliments and bring you flowers. Then-oh," he groans as I kiss his chest. I'm not really sure what I'm doing, having never gotten this far before. But touching him feels right. I brush my arms over his sides, noticing his ribs aren't as prominent. I kiss down his sternum then over to his nipple. I lick over it, smiling when he gasps. Before I could continue he grabs my hair and pulls me back. His eyes are black again and he looks dazed.

"Dinner, Movie, Flowers, gifts. I will do those things you understand," he growls. I nod," Good." in a second his lips are on mine. His grip on my hair is used to tilt my head. Diving his tongue into my mouth quickly. Licking along my teeth and tongue. I feel him under his towel, poking between my legs. I want to grind on him but I think better of it.

Just as quick as he kissed me he pulls away. Hissing with his eyes clenched.

"Chloe, I'm not that strong. I've never had to use control before. I'm certain I will not be having sex with you tonight, I cant. Even if you have forgiven me I still owe you something better for your first time," he opens his black eyes," I will treat you to a lovely night out. Then I'm going to take you to my place where I will worship you. But till then I beg you to have pity on my control." I'm a bit shocked at what he said. He will take me to his place? From all the stories he has told I've never once heard him taking someone back to his place. It's almost a rule for him to not take anyone to his home.

"To your place," I asked still shocked.

He grins," of course. Be hard to leave the next morning if I'm at my house," he tries to joke.

"You have never taken someone to your house," I clarify.

"Well you aren't just anyone, are you," he cocks a brow," you are way more important than anyone before." I reach forward and kiss him again. He startles for a second before getting into it. I pull back after a short moment.

"Dinner next weekend," I ask.

"I'll pick you up around seven," he grins.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Scarping the bottom of the barrel for past stories because I am in a rut right now in writing. I have this cute orc story but fuck, I cant write! so here is a work in progress I edited so I don’t have to write an actual ending.

Also this character is totally me, like I was not subtle at all. I reread this like a month after I wrote it and I'm like ‘oh this is me, that's rude’.

also, also. If you aren’t interested in sex, there is nothing wrong with you. sometimes you don’t find it appealing and that’s ok, don't let anyone make you feel bad for that.

Check out my Archive| Masterlist| Main Blog

#incubus #monster lover #monster boyfriend #Enigma-IM #fluff #comfort #exophilia #starving #Silas

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forasecondtherewedwon · 4 years ago

Text

Beyond a Seasonable Doubt

Pairing: Peter Parker x Michelle Jones (Spideychelle) Rating: T Word count: 7478 @spideychelleweek

Spideychelle Week Day 2: Soulmate AU

Summary: Peter's been living in winter for 17 years. A single smile from his soulmate would bring him into spring. Today, he finally has a real conversation with MJ, the girl he's pretty sure is the one.

Every day, Peter Parker wakes up certain of three things: that he won’t leave himself enough time to finish his cereal, that he should dress for snow, and the (probable) identity of his soulmate.

Ok, the first one’s not a certainty per say―sometimes he has microwave oatmeal or blueberry toaster waffles―but the second one’s been true his whole life. Every single day, for the past seventeen years and change, he’s been swaddled for winter weather. Could be January when he’s three years old and his puffy snowsuit looks totally appropriate as his mom pushes him down a slushy sidewalk in his stroller. Could be August 10th just last year and he’s wearing a woolen fisherman sweater (inherited from his Uncle Ben) and two pairs of socks to his own birthday pool party. Until his soulmate is confirmed, he won’t be part of the regular changing of the seasons that, up to this point, he’s only heard about and seen pictures and video of. For all intents and purposes, in Peter’s world, it’s winter. Some people say the date they’re stuck on bothers them. Personally, he doesn’t know how it could, since he’s never known anything different. You just have to layer up and get on with it.

His arm’s deep in his backpack, feeling around for the scarf he could swear he stuffed in there yesterday, as he walks into the kitchen. It’s a rare day; both Happy and May are at the table, working from home today. With ambivalence to the inevitability that he’ll be dumping half of it in the sink, Peter starts in on his Cheerios. He’s less apathetic about watching his dining companions. They haven’t had the easiest path, so he studies them for clues. May’s first soulmate was Uncle Ben. That’s not up for debate. Within 24 hours of when they met, the seasons adjusted themselves and two more people joined the rest of the world’s matched soulmates in enjoying the proper rotation of the earth around the sun. After Ben’s death, May told Peter that the seasons continued to change for her, but they slowed. Once a couple of years passed, there was a noticeable lag. She fell out of step with the world. When Happy came on the scene, things got back on track. Voilà, soulmate number two. From what Peter’s read, it’s not that unusual to find another soulmate if you lose your first, but honestly, he’d be happy just to get one.

May and Happy are dressed for mid-spring.

“Rain today?” Peter wonders, spooning Cheerios into his mouth.

“It’s holding off for now,” his aunt informs him.

When he turns to look out the window, there’s a cottony haze of thick snowflakes, like all of Queens is having a pillow fight on the rooftops. He sighs with acceptance rather than despair. Nothing was going to change overnight. It couldn’t, not without her, whoever she is. (He thinks he knows.)

“Cool.”

He leaves in a rush, slopping milk into the sink, and pulling on a hat.

A season isn’t much of a clue, but that’s not exactly how everyone experiences their pre-soulmate life. Instead of cycling through an entire spring, for example, and then starting again, each person exists in the weather as it was on the day their soulmate was born. The universe was kinda against Peter from the first. Snow, in his mind, goes with winter, but of course, in their New York climate, snow isn’t trapped between the boundaries of December and March. It wasn’t until he got his second clue that he figured out the first. The second clue was that this one girl would never smile at him. Soulmates need to smile at each other. That’s it. Just smile and everything else falls into place. No more dressing for the same temperature every day or involuntarily shivering when they see people in shorts and t-shirts in a world they observe to be covered in snow. Most people who haven’t found their soulmate yet smile a lot, trying to catch everyone’s eye, in the hope of locating the right person, so the fact that this one girl refused to smile at him (and continues to refuse) made Peter curious―curious enough to do some research to find out her birthday. End of November. Meaning autumn, not winter. He checked the weather for the year he was born, assuming he’s got the right girl and they share a birth year. Bingo. Big cold front, unexpectedly heavy snowfall that day. Plus, this girl dresses like it’s the peak of summer, which fits with when his birthday is, and he’s never seen her wear an outfit for cooler weather or hang around with any one person in particular (soulmates, especially those his age, tend to cling).

So, the third certainty. Peter’s pretty sure he knows who his soulmate is. What he doesn’t know is why the hell Michelle Jones won’t smile at him.

―

Every day, Michelle Jones wakes up certain of three things: that the inevitable sweat patches in the armpits of her uniform shirt will aid her in bullying Coach Wilson into letting her sit out during gym, that Peter Parker is her soulmate, and that she’d really prefer that he wasn’t.

People think she’s rude, which is maybe correct in the effect she has on them but not in the intention of her actions. She doesn’t like acting a certain way because it’s how she’s supposed to act. She doesn’t like etiquette, she doesn’t like rules, and she doesn’t like soulmates. Doesn’t want one, doesn’t need one. It’s an opinion adults condescendingly informed her she’d grow out of―as if accepting that she’s being denied free will is the kind of thing she’d mature into―until she quit voicing it. People love the system as long as they believe it’s working for them. What’s childish, as far as MJ is concerned, is placing complete faith in something as pervasive as soulmates simply because it seems too big to fail. That expression always makes her think of the Titanic.

She knows it’s not the cotton candy fantasy everyone wants to believe it is, and she’s not just disillusioned because she wakes up to a heatwave every day and has to carry deodorant with her all the time. Like most people, she was born the child of two soulmates. They met, they smiled, they took the soulmate bait, hook, line, and sinker. And then, even though they loved each other and got married and made MJ, her mom became mildly depressed. Her doctor thought it was the consequence of the seasons. MJ’s dad was a late-April baby, so maybe her mom was just one of those people who took longer to get used to variations in temperature and hours of daylight. The doctor thought she’d snap out of it when winter ended and nice weather came again. The problem was that MJ’s mom packed up and left in February. MJ’s never going to know for sure if it was the weather that made her go, but she does know that the soulmate bond wasn’t enough to make her mom stay. It taught her that, if a person’s determined enough, they can override destiny.

So she’s thankful to her mom, wherever she is, for that.

Based on her motives for distrusting the soulmate influence, the reason she doesn’t want Peter should be because she doesn’t want anybody, but no, it’s him in particular that MJ’s pretty much convinced she could do without. He’s smart, funny on occasion and mostly by accident, and he’s experienced family tragedy that’s different from hers, so they could connect over their messed-up pasts without too much overlap. All of that is more than she wants to deal with. If the universe attempted to shack her up with some trust-fund-having, loafer-wearing, future-frat-house-keg-meister, she could’ve worked with that. She would’ve smiled at the silver-spoon-suckling to confirm they were soulmates, then let that puppy-dog trail her from protest to protest while she told him when to pull out his chequebook and how many zeros to put down. There would’ve been a clear, Robin Hoodian purpose to that relationship. There’s not a point to Peter, besides him being someone she could very probably, very quickly fall in love with. Obviously, she can’t do that because soulmates are bullshit and true love is a con and long-term monogamy is a doomed enterprise.

…And she’s going to be late for her first class, Biology. Ugh, Peter always does this to her―intentionally walks slow to try to trick her into catching up with him. All that does is make MJ take a longer route and misjudge how quickly she needs to move. She wishes he’d knock it off. He’s backed off on a lot of other things for her sake (that’s an assumption based on observation because, of course, she’s never initiated a conversation with him), like sitting across from her in the cafeteria and dropping out of marching band (he plays trombone, she plays euphonium, and the brass section was too cozy a space for successfully avoiding someone). That second one was a waste because she was about to quit anyway, so now neither of them are in it and the whole band’s off balance. Too many fucking flautists. If Peter would commit to doing one or the other―pestering her or ignoring her―that would be convenient, but he’s inconsistent and she’s annoyed.

Oh, here’s another thing that happens every day: MJ hopes her displeasure will protect her from the urge to smile at the adorable, well-intentioned pain in her neck that destiny wants to tie her to until one of them drops dead or, marginally less dramatic, runs out on the young family they’ve created. It really pisses her off that Peter seems like he’ll be a great dad in another decade or two.

“Hey, MJ,” he says, when she finally makes it to Bio and slides behind the lab desk in front of his.

“Kiss my ass, Parker,” she mutters back.

He’s the reason for the sweat running down her spine. MJ pinches the front of her t-shirt and flaps it away from her skin, trying to stimulate enough airflow to make it through the period.

��

“You could trick her into smiling at you,” Ned suggests. They’re sitting together at lunch and Peter has a glumness hangover from MJ ignoring him (again) that morning.

“Babe,” Betty admonishes.

“Babe, he’d only feel bad if MJ really is his soulmate. If she’s not, then at least they know for sure and they can quit being weird with each other.”

“I’m not being weird with her,” Peter objects. “I’m just being nice! And I told you, I know it’s her.”

“You get that feeling?” Ned checks. “That warm feeling like I got the first time I saw Betty’s beautiful face?”

“Aw, babe!”

Their arms are already linked as they eat, but now Betty lays her head on her soulmate’s shoulder. If they get much closer, she’ll be in Ned’s lap, at which point Peter will have to make himself scarce. Though love is cute, it’s also kind of an affliction with a lot of messy symptoms.

“I don’t feel like I’m doing anything wrong!” he blurts out in frustration, jabbing at the salad May made him for lunch. “How could we be so incompatible?”

“You’re not though,” Betty counters. “You’re totally compatible.”

“Yeah, but we haven’t even taken the first step.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t think of it as the first step,” Ned suggests, being all wise.

“What do you mean?” Peter asked cautiously.

“Babe, you couldn’t be more correct,” Betty gushes. Peter sighs impatiently. He shouldn’t―they’re trying to help him―but it’s hard having paired up friends while his own soulmate stays just out of reach.

“Elaborate please,” he prompts.

He shifts in place and shivers when he accidentally moves out of the space his butt’s been warming. Meanwhile, here are Ned and Betty in their lightweight sweaters and sneakers. Peter’s boots clomp under the table.

“Well,” Ned posits, “isn’t confirming you’re soulmates more like the final step? You’ve done your waiting and now you get to be together?” Betty kisses his cheek in agreement.

“Maybe,” Peter allows.

“If you accept that confirming your bond isn’t the very next step, then you can start considering what is the next step. What do you think that might be, Peter?” Betty asks.

“I should… get MJ to tell me why she isn’t ready or interested in confirming it. In a respectful way that doesn’t pressure her,” he adds when Betty narrows her eyes judgementally.

“And how do you plan to achieve that?”

“Babe,” Ned intercedes, “let’s give him a minute to think about it.”

Peter tries to do that while he finishes his lunch. There are a lot of vegetables in here and they’re seasonal, just not for the season he’s experiencing. May’s always trying to load him up with vitamin-rich foods, since most of his day’s snowy; the clouds clear for a while around the time he gets out of school, allowing him some sun on his face as long as he doesn’t dawdle or land in detention. That train of thought makes him realize that detention would be the perfect place to talk this out with MJ, except that he’s against Ned’s plan of tricking her into becoming his soulmate and making sure she landed in detention with him would probably involve tricking. He knows she used to hang out there voluntarily from time to time, but not since they became aware of their connection. Now, she seems to avoid any place she might get stuck in and be cornered by Peter.

Ugh! He’s so ready to love and be loved! It’s super awesome to have people to love and worry about and have breakfast with. Love and breakfast are precious, in Peter’s opinion, and so is time. Getting enough of it isn’t something to be depended upon. After his parents and then Uncle Ben, he can’t trust quantity―he gives and gets quality love these days. He doesn’t know everything about Michelle Jones, but he’d like her to understand that, the irreplaceable value she represents to him. If she’d just be a plain envelope, he’d do all the work; put on the stamp, write out the address, compose the note it would hold. Right now, she’s like a sheet of paper, he guesses, one that they fold up into an envelope. She hasn’t been cut out or had that gross glue strip applied and it seems like it might be a long time before she’s ready for a letter or, like, a Happy Bar Mitzvah card. MJ might not want to be his envelope person, or she just might not know the things he could be for her (glue-licking, stamp-applying, Mazel Tov!-writing). If she at least knows, then he’ll concede that he’s done everything he can. If she knows, it’ll hopefully be enough for her to make a decision. Peter can’t force her to decide in his favour, but even if she understands and decides that she needs another five years before she wants to talk to him about the probability of their being soulmates and maybe revisit the smiling thing, he’ll know something too. Waiting is really tough.

―

“Don’t smile at me,” Peter requests, both hands up, when MJ shuts her locker to see him standing there.

She rolls her eyes. Nothing about the one person she’s actively avoiding hanging out at a place she has to be makes her want to smile. Did he decide that if he couldn’t be her soulmate he’d settle for being her stalker?

…Probably not. He’s way too good a person for that. Seriously, she tries to make these made-up accusations stick to him, but he’s just not that guy. That doesn’t mean she accepts, likes, or appreciates this latest move to get her attention.

“Are you trying reverse psychology now?” MJ demands.

“I’m just trying to make it extra clear that, whatever your reasons are for not smiling, I respect them.” He shrugs his shoulders and she glances down at the lunchbox he’s carrying. She wonders what he ate today.

“What if I’m not smiling because I’m plotting a bank heist in my head? Do you respect that? Do you respect theft, Peter?”

His expression is so satisfyingly startled that she almost does smile. No, fuck this. There are only ten minutes or so left in the lunch hour and she can wander the halls until the next class starts. She goes to step around him, but their shoulders brush and she feels something. It’s more aggressive than the welcoming warmth the bond (that’s what she attributes it to) usually makes her feel when she sees him. This is pure affection and it’s really hard to put her back to it. MJ pauses, facing away from Peter, and she’s almost got the new feeling under control when he turns and starts walking beside her.

“I think we can figure this out,” he says eagerly. Dammit. His enthusiasm for learning is one of the traits she finds most attractive in him. Can’t he just lay off with that fucking fated appeal?

“I think I already have,” she shoots back, not looking at him. “The universe wants to play sock puppets and guess what? We’re the sock puppets.”

“Look,” Peter says. He’s shockingly persistent today as he jumps in front of her and catches her eye. “We don’t have to play by its rules. We can make our own.”

“You wanna be with me?” she asks point-blank. Her chin jerks up instinctively when she questions him, eyes appraising. Either the question or the blunt stare makes him blush.

“Yeah, I, I think I probably do.”

“You want me to fall in love with you? For us to get married? Live together? Have kids? Me and you against the world, forever?”

“Maybe?”

“Well, you can’t just want one thing, Peter,” MJ tells him. Her fingers grip hard at the books in her hands. “There’s no shallow end of the soulmate bond. Its plan is not for us to casually date and let things plateau if it doesn’t work out.”

“But it would work out.” Poor thing looks confused.

“Says who?”

He shrugs.

“Everybody.”

“Check your sources.”

She hangs a left into the girls’ bathroom before Peter can respond, but he’s waiting in the hall when she returns.

“You can’t ignore it,” is the first thing he says to her, pushing off the wall. This time, MJ plants her feet.

“Or you, apparently, if you keep stalking me.”

“I’m not trying to. I just want us―”

“To talk,” she finishes for him. “Which is pointless. You’re not going to gain any ground with me, Peter. I have no ground for you to gain on this issue.”

“Maybe, if you told me why you won’t smile, you’ll feel better.”

“I feel fine.”

“You do not. You’re trying not to let someone care a lot about you when it’s guaranteed that they would. He would. I would,” Peter rambles. He takes a deep breath and looks her firmly in the eye. “Isn’t that, like, the one thing everybody wants? To be able to count on someone caring?”

“I’m not broken just because I don’t want what everybody wants,” she bites back, feeling herself flush with annoyance and, beneath that, embarrassment at being assessed.

“I would never call you broken,” he swears in a quiet voice. He is not going to make her tear up right now. She’s softening though, she can feel it. Stupid sincere soulmate. “I mean, if anything, I’m broken, so I could never judge, even if I wanted to. I know people try hard to find their perfect match, but I feel greedy sometimes with how badly I want it to happen to me. I know it’s not fair to you, I’ve been coming to terms with―”

“You’re not broken, Peter. Wanting someone to love you doesn’t make you broken. Or, if it does, then most people are. You’re not alone just because you don’t have me.”

Clearly, the time to stop herself was one sentence sooner. Because the jerk smiles at her and the next thing she does is agree to discuss this further after school.

―

There was something she said, while they were talking after lunch, that has him considering their potential as platonic soulmates well into third period. That’s what soulmates are for some people―they want all of the kindness and support of the bond with none of the romance, and the universe gives them what they need. When MJ said that stuff about marriage and babies and forever, Peter began contemplating whether they could achieve the third thing without the first two. Almost immediately, he ruled it out. He knew what attraction felt like. Sure, being soulmates was probably influencing him towards MJ, but she wasn’t the only person he found attractive. He used to have a crush on Liz. One day, when his Business class was on a field trip and it rained, he saw Flash with all the product washed out of his hair and was attracted to him (right up until Flash made a few loud comments about getting ‘Penis’ out of the cold weather before he shriveled up).

The conclusion he comes to is clear: Peter’s definitely hot for MJ. While marriage can wait, falling dizzily, hopelessly in love―and properly, in the kind of love they could have with their soulmate bond confirmed―is something he can only ever half-heartedly postpone. He wants to give her presents with love on her birthday. He wants to hug her and feel a new kind of complete. He wants to be her Valentine.

When Peter sees MJ hanging back to wait for him once the final bell rings, he’s relieved. Then tense. Not screwing this up might literally be the most important thing in his future. Trying to reassure her that he isn’t planning some sort of ambush to force a smile out of her, he suggests they talk someplace where other people will be around. She flat-out refuses to go to a coffee shop with him because it would be way too date-like. (Yeah, he gets that, picturing an awkward moment in which he attempts to pay for both their orders, or their shoes bump under the table.) They agree on the gym, where the girls’ indoor soccer team is having practice. Together―him in flannel-lined jeans and her in shorts―they thud up the bleachers to sit at the very top. MJ catches her foot and Peter notices that, when he instinctively reaches out to steady her, she shies away with a regretful look on her face. He really doesn’t expect her to explain, but then she does as they sit down.

“It does something to me,” she says, jerking her head as though to reference their near-contact.

Peter shrugs.

“Yeah, me too, but I’ve never been trying to avoid that feeling. I’ve gotten used to, like, um,” he stammers, “leaning into it. But I’m sorry. I won’t touch you.”

“Well, you know that I have the opposite habit.” MJ takes a deep breath, and Peter gets the sense that this would be the moment for her to be vulnerable with him and explain why she works so hard to ignore him. Ultimately, volunteering that information appears to be too much of an emotional effort. She decides to ask, “Is that something you’re interested in knowing more about?”

“Anything you wanna tell me,” he says quickly. He’s been waiting forever for this opportunity. “You can ask me things too. Open book.”

“I’m… not used to just spilling stuff about my life.”

He considers that.

“Why’d you say yes to this?”

She sighs and leans forward to rest her elbows on her knees. Then, she cups her face in her hand and turns to meet his eye.

“I’m tired of the way seeing you is always such a big deal. The bond says it’s wonderful and my brain hates it. I don’t want to be so torn all the time.”

“So…” he begins uncertainly. “Which outcome are you hoping for? Thinking I’m wonderful or hating my guts?”

The speed with which MJ turns her face away from him makes him wonder if she’s hiding a smile. He wasn’t trying to be funny.

“Quit twisting my words,” she requests, straight-faced as she stares straight ahead to where the soccer players are booting around what looks like an oversized tennis ball. “I didn’t say I hate you.”

“Just your brain.”

“Mhmm. My brain hates the idea of you.”

“MJ,” Peter says earnestly. She looks at him. “Why?”

“You control my whole life!” she says abruptly. “I’m sweating from climbing these stupid bleachers because of you. I have the urge to smile right now, when I’m irritated, because of you. Your existence tells me what to wear even when I’m not with you and how to feel whenever I see you.”

“I’m sorry―”

“And I can’t even seriously blame you because it’s not actually your fault!”

The girls’ team has quit weaving and shooting the ball, heading and passing it. Peter gets that MJ wanted a public place, but now he knows they’re being eavesdropped on. He’s quiet, though not because of the potential listeners; he doesn’t want to stop MJ from saying whatever she might tell him next. He’s been longing to hear her thoughts for ages.

“And that’s just, like, surface stuff!” she huffs. She’s flushed. If he could hold her face between his hands, the warmth might stay with him all the way home while he trudges along the sidewalk, ploughing snow aside with his shins.

“Please,” Peter says softly, “tell me more. Tell me anything you want.”

―

She went into it knowing she wouldn’t be allowing her soulmate to make her smile, but MJ didn’t anticipate letting him see her cry. He’s so open and she’s fortified her defenses against this topic for such a long time. Apparently, that’s enough for discussing her emotions and fears to make her crack like an egg. Peter doesn’t rush her or tell her that her feelings are the wrong feelings and the whole time he watches her face with a startling amount of attention. Has anybody looked at her like this? Really looked at her? Ever? She feels like a mom would’ve, but she can’t remember if her mom did. And that’s who she’s talking about, that’s the part of the story she’s at, when she feels the tears dribble out and tilts her head to let them drain away over her cheek. God, this is embarrassing. At least the soccer team packed up and left before she felt her throat getting thick.

“I don’t know if I’m still just letting my mom decide whether or not I get to be happy,” MJ admits, face wet until she catches her tear tracks with the back of her wrist. “I’m trying to do this, ignore the soulmate bond, for me, but maybe… I don’t know…”

“You’re forcing me away from you?” Peter suggests.

“Yeah. I’m abandoning you before we can get attached.” Somehow, this dork has Kleenex in his backpack and hands her one. She blows her nose hard, then crumples the tissue in her hand. “Pretty fucked up.”

“Ok, this is gonna sound really stupid, because we’re not even together, but I don’t think I’m the kind of person who could leave you.”

“You can’t promise that though,” MJ says―so, so quietly. She wants her words to run away and hide under the bleachers with the dust bunnies.

“Would you rather have nothing?” he asks.

Coming from someone else, she’s pretty sure that would be an ultimatum, some kind of threat to accept him as her soulmate now or never get another chance. Peter asks it with as little agenda as he’s asked everything else, easing her through her memories and her dreads.

“I’m not sure,” she says.

“Can I tell you something? I’m not sure I could be with someone whose goal was to resist getting or giving love. I mean, I’ve heard everything you’ve told me and I can see why you’ve been dodging the soulmate thing, but if you get to look way ahead and worry about things that are only possible and far in the future, like me leaving you, then I get to look ahead too.” He pauses and she nods to indicate that, yeah, that’s fair. MJ thinks this is very brave of him, stepping out of the situation for a second to consider what he might need later when what he wants is to be with her right away. “I don’t wanna be left either. I don’t want you not to be able to overcome the idea that soulmates are bad and wrong. Maybe it doesn’t matter if you think that in general, but if it’s a part of our relationship, then you’re always going to be expecting things to end. It would be like you were trying to think your way out of it instead of enjoying whatever we could have. And what we could have, by the way? I don’t think the bond has anything to say about that. Does it encourage us to get together? Yeah, sure, fine, it does and we accept that’s how it works. Once we are together though, isn’t the rest on our terms?”

Finally, Peter takes a longer breath and some of the intensity fades from his expression.

“You’re looking at me funny,” he notes. “I know I talked a lot. Are you gonna say something?”

“Just that you sounded smart and it’s pissing me off.”

He gives her dry joke a sad smile.

“Losing people sucks.” His voice is like a rock falling, falling, falling through deep water. “For as much as you don’t want me to make promises, I know that I’d try really fucking hard not to lose you. You can’t hate me, or your brain can’t hate me, for that. It’s the human element of this whole thing, which should be the part you like, since you’re so anti-destiny.”

Looks like Peter’s raised his own spirits enough to offer a conspiratorial little smile at the end there.

“Another repulsively astute point,” she says flatly and watches his smile broaden. Fuck, it makes her heart feel like a marshmallow that’s melting onto a s’more and simultaneously being stretched until it tears into sticky ribbons.

He checks his watch and gets to his feet.

“I gotta get home.”

“Did I miss the soulmate-decision deadline?” she teases. Feels weird. She stands too and they clomp back down to the gym floor.

“No! God, no, I wasn’t trying to rush you by looking at the time!”

“Parker, I’m messing with you. Chill.”

She eyes his winter clothing.

“Or maybe don’t. Looks like you’re chill enough already. Sorry for being born during a blizzard. My dad told me he and my mom barely got to the hospital in time for me to not be born in the car, the roads were so bad.”

Peter appraises her right back.

“Sorry for being born during a heatwave. I wish I could ask my mom what that was like, but you already know about my parents.”

“Shit, I didn’t mean to start comparing…”

“No, I know,” Peter says. “I miss her, but it’s not always the worst, having a certain moment make me notice that I could’ve learned something from her here. It’s actually easier to appreciate than forget, even if it’s sad for a little while.”

“If I promise to try it, will you cut it out with the insightful bullshit?”

Instead of answering that question, he springs something else on her.

“For the record, I know the only reason you didn’t smile at me is because you were trying so hard not to.”

Immediately, MJ turns her back on him and smirks as she heads for the far exit.

―

Peter’s seen a lot of snow. Almost all the weather he’s ever seen is snow, and even at the point in his day when the snowfall takes its lunchbreak, there’s over a foot on the ground and dense grey clouds up above. He thinks it’s crazy how snow fills people with wonder―mainly in Christmas movies and holiday episodes of TV shows. The way he feels about snow is probably how people living in late-spring-to-early-fall weather feel about grass. It’s just there, the base layer of their environment.

Except tonight Peter has his blind up, watching the thin sprinkle the blizzard has slowed into catch the light from other people’s apartments, a clean, meltable glitter. He’s tired and can’t sleep, but it’s a quiet comfort of sleeplessness, not the kind where he stresses and twists around between his sheets. The weight of the day keeps him flat on his back in bed as he thinks it all over. His feelings, MJ’s, the satisfaction of finally having a long talk with her, the biting pain of seeing her cry. In his mind, since he first guessed it might be her who’s his soulmate, he’s been tailoring their love. Their potential love. He didn’t know what it would look like before having her to mould a concept around. Learning that she was probably his soulmate, studying her, Peter decided they were meant for a slow love. Love would be something that slipped gradually across them, like pulling up the sheet on a bed or stepping into a long summertime shadow.

He’s surprised at the kind of love MJ envisioned; from the berth she gave it when she talked that afternoon, it sounded big and powerful and immediate. Faster than an avalanche, ringing through their lives louder than a thunderclap. He wanted them to confirm their bond soon so that unhurried love could begin to develop and she was afraid that the second they started would be the second they were swept away. No wonder she avoided him, Peter thinks. The love she anticipated would equal an act of god and he isn’t ready for that either. He turns his face away from the direction of the window and stares at his dark ceiling.

Peter has plenty of forceful love in his life―he can’t consider it enough forceful love, because there’s no such thing as enough love, is there?―thanks to May. She took on the mom-ish role of caring for him after his parents were gone, then the single-mom-ish role of raising him into approaching adulthood without Uncle Ben. While her aura is soft, her whole attitude has been very roll-up-your-sleeves where he’s concerned. May faced down his extreme need for parental TLC like it was a battle and continues to love him fiercely, even if his steadily increasing age and Happy’s calming presence temper her a little these days. So Peter’s covered in the department of that kind of love. He hopes his forever person doesn’t feel the need to bombard him with a truckload of love from the start; it would make him feel pitied, somehow, like they were putting all their effort into making up for the fact that he doesn’t have parents anymore. Peter knows he doesn’t have parents, he doesn’t want or need to be smothered to make up for their absence.

This chance (it still isn’t a solid thing) with MJ could let him grow into devotion. He’s kinda longing to know what that feels like. The theoretical adjective he’d attach to it is normal. Whatever the universe’s input here, Peter really believes the most normal thing after confirming their bond would be to allow things to develop however felt right. And with the bond backing them, technically anything they do would be right, right? He wants them to grow up together and grow into each other. He doesn’t want MJ to be the bond or a love lightning bolt, zipping down to fry him. The assurance that they’ll fall in love is enough to start. It’s an invaluable forecast, as dependable as the weather he’s been experiencing all his life.

When his phone buzzes on his nightstand, Peter feels as though he’s being retracted like a telescope―thoughts way far out in space drawing back to his building, his bedroom, his body. He rubs his eyes with his knuckle as he looks at the screen.

So… you were unexpectedly deep today, MJ’s text reads.

They never exactly exchanged numbers, but he got hers from Betty one time and saved it just in case. His heart beats faster at the thought that maybe MJ did the same.

And you’re still mad about it? Peter guesses, tapping out his reply.

Oh, you are up.

There was a lot to think about, he tells her honestly. Why are you still awake?

Because the day you were born must have been the most humid day of the year. It’s too hot to sleep.

Also, MJ tags on, that crap you said about thinking.

―

She lets her phone drop onto the thin cotton sheet of the mattress and uses its light to help her see as she rips nervously at the skin around her fingernail. Texting Peter wasn’t even really a thought―she just found herself doing it, surprised by how natural the instinct felt and despite the fact that she really doesn’t reach out to people. That she would reach out to the one person she was utterly vulnerable in front of less than 12 hours ago is something MJ would never have expected of herself. But she’s let him in this far.

And you decided to talk to me about it? Peter finally responds, postponing further anxiety.

I know. My boundaries are completely fucked after this afternoon. I might never be able to bottle up my feelings again. Hope you’re happy, loser.

Well, Peter texts, you don’t have to do that. If you need to empty the bottle every once in a while, I get it. I can be your glass. Or your straw?

You want to suck up my feelings? Like some kind of feelings-vampire?

God, she is fucking this up so severely. He’s going to wish she’d just kept ignoring him instead of caving to his persistent friendliness and that look he gets that’s all eyes, totally impossible to say no to. Amazingly, her last stupid text isn’t enough to make him say he’s going to sleep now, or worse, not respond at all.

Just a feelings-relief, he corrects. Unless you like the idea of the feelings-vampire better.

You don’t need to bend to my will like that, Parker. Suddenly, MJ’s kind of angry.

Don’t give me what you think I want just because you feel bad about seeing me cry, she continues. Or because you think you can make this work by doing whatever I want. Never appease me.

I care, he says simply.

Wow, she feels like a jerk.

Because destiny told you that you could take that care and trade up for the promise of eternal love? she snarks back, apparently not quite done with the jerk thing.

I had no idea texting you would be even more fun than talking in person.

Is he… is he being sarcastic with her? MJ smiles at her phone. Incredible.

I’m fun in all mediums, she says, not having a clear idea of what she means and looking forward to Peter trying really hard to interpret it.

Knock knock, is his response.

Who’s there?

Ummmm idk.

‘Ummmm idk’ who?

No, I seriously don’t know, he says.

MJ snorts in confused laughter and shifts around to find a cool spot on her sheet; she wasn’t lying about the heat.

Why would you send me the beginning of a knock-knock joke with no joke? she asks.

I thought I’d think of the rest of it in the moment. I know that’s dumb. It just felt like we were maybe in a zone there and I wanted to keep it going.

Relax. I’m not going to strike you out for one ill-conceived knock-knock joke.

What about two?

I wouldn’t test your luck, MJ counsels, still smiling.

She can see that he’s composing a reply, but she beats him to it: I was thinking about what you said about destiny. Actually, what you said about the opposite of destiny, the thing about the human element.

And?

She can practically sense his tension as she holds her phone in her hand.

I think it’s a good thought. That two people can still make a relationship theirs.

Ned said something to me today.

How unusual.

Shut up, Peter quips back. He said that confirming you’re somebody’s soulmate is like the last big step.

Oh?

Yeah, I think he’s totally wrong.

So do I.

Replying that way felt like a huge leap and yet, MJ took it. It doesn’t take long after that for her to start getting tired, blinking long and slow until she’s only opening her eyes when her phone vibrates against her fingers. Peter says he’s tired too and they wrap the conversation up. There’s a suggestion of seeing each other at school the next day. It shouldn’t have any special meaning―it’s a throwaway farewell, less than a promise―but she reacts to it with her last bit of focus. See you in the morning, are her exact words.

She cranes her phone out over the side of her bed with her arm, then lets it go just a little too far from the floor. Probably fine, though it clatters against the surface. Protected by the night and her closed eyes, MJ feels around inside her mind, looking for the taut tug-of-war rope that should be telling her that, one, she doesn’t want to meet with Peter because he’s probably her soulmate and soulmates are a lie and a scam, and two, that she does want to meet with Peter because he has a cute smile that he shows her even when she doesn’t give him much reason to. Then she thinks about how much she prefers first steps to last steps.

―

He could be a clone. He could be a clone in a programmed world, living his programmed life the same every day, but with, like, fake memories that fool him into believing in variety. Because he does believe in it. Today, Peter wakes up and change seems possible.

There’s snow on the ground outside and he has to get his socks on before putting his feet on the floor and he’s eating his breakfast too slowly and the way his aunt and Happy are dressed says it’s still spring. Peter asks about rain. May says, “Any time now,” and keeps reading the paperwork she has folded open on the table as she scratches absently at her arm.

“Amazing,” Peter replies, meaning it, as he picks up his bowl and slurps the rest of his cereal until milk runs down his chin.

His aunt glances up to give him a funny look. He’s pretty sure it’s not about the milk, but there’s no time to ask. If he hurries, he’ll leave ahead of his usual schedule, thanks to this new breakfast hack. He wants to get to school. School is such a great place to be.

Peter races out of the apartment and down the stairs like he’s 10 minutes late instead of 3 minutes early. It’s in the building’s entryway that he gets a feeling. Four feet from the glass door that he sees her standing on the sidewalk, snow she can’t feel partway up her mostly-bare legs. Pushing the door open when she quits looking away down the street and stares straight back at him instead. When MJ smiles, Peter smiles back. It could be a life-changing moment, or it might just be a reflex. Because they started to let each other in, he’ll probably never know the answer. Anyway, why does there only have to be one?

“I’ve been waiting,” she says. “I thought you’d be down sooner.”

He laughs self-deprecatingly.

“I tend to cut my timing kinda close in the morning. You wanna get going?” Peter jerks his head to the side.

“Yeah, we should. You’re probably getting cold just standing there.”

With his timing slightly off, they’re ahead of schedule for the bus he’s usually running to catch, so they decide to walk up to the next stop. As they approach the intersection, the light changes to yellow.

“We can beat it if we run,” Peter suggests, trying not to strangle himself by catching his scarf as he hikes his backpack higher on his shoulders.

But MJ goes, “Wait,” so urgently that he stops at the corner.

“What is it?”

“I thought I just…” With a puzzled expression, she extends her hand, palm up. Not towards Peter, but away from him. “…felt a raindrop.”

They lock eyes.

“You want my coat?” he offers. MJ smiles again.

“I’ll let you know.”

#my writing #spideychelleweek2k20 #spideychelle #spideychelle fanfiction #spideychelle fic #peter parker #peter x mj #peter x michelle #peter parker x michelle jones #michelle jones #May Parker #happy hogan #may parker x happy hogan #ned leeds #betty brant #ned leeds x betty brant #nettypot

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lunatens · 4 years ago

Text

interview tag <3

tagged by @cha-lan hehe thank u lan!! i love these games <3 and it’s so fun to get to know u more!!

rules: answer questions and tag 20 blogs you’d like to know better!

tagging: (not 20 blogs lol) @cutiejoshi @ggulovebot @allegxdly @mikwrites @icecreamscxups @noniesgirl + anyone who wants to :p

name/nickname:

luna is what i go by on here!! when i first started my blog i didn’t rlly wanna share much personal info lol, but most of my irl friends know about my blog now + i just don’t care so if you’re curious my name is erica :p you’re welcome to call me either name, i just keep going by luna bc it feels more familiar n comforting on tumblr + most people on here know my as that anyways!! anyways that was a long way of saying my name’s luna/erica (+ my dad calls me ricky as a nickname hehe)

pronouns:

she/her !

star sign:

pisces sun anD pisces moon :0

height:

5′10 or i think 178cm?

time:

it’s 2:04pm as i’m writing this altho who knows when i’ll finish this lol (edit: i am finishing this at 5:22pm a couple days later oops)

when is your birthday:

march 6

nationality:

canadian!!

favourite band/groups:

seventeen, stray kids, ateez, got7, monsta x, shinee, txt, bts, day6, lucy, itzy, loona

favourite solo artists:

taemin, woodz, park jihoon, sunmi, eric nam, jonghyun, key, jackson wang

song stuck in your head:

9 to 5 by dolly parton bc i gotta storyboard + animate to it for a school assignment :3

last movie you watched?

how to train your dragon!!

last show you binged:

i don’t really have time to binge shows these days :(( but i’d say the last one that was close enough to a binge would be the umbrella academy!

when you created your blog:

feb 6, 2019!

last thing you googled:

‘face muscles’ for an anatomy drawing assignment and i rlly hated looking at those pics

other blogs:

@ericast is where i post some of my art! mostly just my svt fanart lol but if anyone wants to see all my art it’s on my instagram @/erica.s.t :p

why i chose my url:

lol luna = my name and then ten was my ult bias at the time i made my blog! (i still love him)and then idk i just added an s on the end bc it sounded nicer that way

how many people are you following:

249

how many followers do you have:

approximately 1.2k which is always like :0 how lmao ty all so much

average hours of sleep:

either 4-5 hours or 10-12 there is no in between

lucky number:

i dont think i really have a lucky number, but the number 12 means a lot to me because it was my jersey number for most of the years i played volleyball!! so like from 2012-2018 (then in college i was #2 until covid ruined everything boo)

instruments:

i played the piano from when i was like 7 to when i was about 14 i think? and in elementary school i played the alto sax and i really really loved it, i hope i can pick it up again one day!! + i used to play the ukulele a lil bit

what i’m currently wearing:

my pj pants of alpacas with hats + an old shirt from a volleyball tournament

dream job:

honestly i would love to be a youtuber that’s like what i daydream about lmao. but my real dream job is to do concept art for animated movies!!

dream trip:

i rlly would love to go to south korea with my sisters one day...pls lol but a realistic dream trip i’ll hopefully get to do this summer is a road trip to my family cottage with my friends!!

favourite food:

skjfjfjsjwjwj sushi never disappoints

favourite song:

rocket by svt. superior song always fave song will never change my mind 10/10 so happy it’s back on spotify

top three fictional universes you’d like to live in:

ooooo ok i mean i do have to say the harry potter universe bc i do really love the world so much and would love to be a witch. also definitely she-ra and the princesses of power!! etheria is so pretty and magical :3 and finally hmmm maybe i’d love to live in the httyd world bc would i hate being a viking?? yes but pet dragons would make it so worth it

#i have so many tag games to catch up on lol !!!!#they’re so fun uugghfjjfjdjsjs i wish school wasn’t so bUSY #ty again lan!!!#tag game #interview tag #lan <3

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syahaz · 4 years ago

Photo

Black Violin

I headcanon Goth Trenton to go to cello rock performances from time to time. I do search up cello rock songs and my mind soon goes to a thought of him playing a cello, an electric cello, a double bass, but the drawing ideas did not struck me until the violin comes in. Not sure why at first (will be explained later in this post) but I just went with it lol. I never know that black violin is actually a thing until I find references for violin! Like it’s very pretty and sick. Love it!

Possible question from fellows who familiar with my Camp TV AU or maybe simply curious (pseudo FAQ if you will):

Why cello rock?

In general, I write Trenton liking underground music genres (not necessarily exclusive, but that’s his main jams) and it’s getting more intense when he’s older as he’ll be having money and time to experimenting around the music score or in his words digging deep in the abyss.

At this point (as Goth Trenton) , his soul is getting old. I find it interesting that he’ll starting to like something that his grandad would or just general elderly I guess (classic musics, classic instruments, orchestral works)*. When he’s attending the performance, he’s not only there to listen the live but also to feel that his grandad is next to him, appreciating the music together :’).

Why violin?

Funny thing that I thought of this when/after I finished drawing this piece, but to answer that: it’s all started with a spark of curiosity to play orchestral instruments at some point after knowing that his wife participated in a marching band as a kid (but he’s passionate enough to get himself a custom violin lol).

Though orchestra and marching band may seems less in common by surface level but there’s some similarities like how both music presentation methods are underappreciated by younger generations* excluding those with music related background, the instruments are commonly way expensive due to lesser demand frequency and/or production cost, and the hardship to find regular audiences or marketing for that matter.

I also pick violin because uhh it’s the easiest I can draw for now. This is my very first time drawing it as far I can remember so please cut me some slack sobs.

Is he a good player?

I would say he’s decent at the very least but never close to the pro level. He can plays simple tunes/lullabies like Maple Leaf Rag, Twinkle Twinkle Little Stars, and Que Sera Sera.

The most advanced he can reach prolly soft and slow songs or the kind that has some sort of delays between notes like Amhrán Na Farraige by Lisa Hannigan and La chanson de la mer by Nolwenn Leroy.

—

*Oh and not saying youngsters can’t enjoy these things alright, but they logically would be the minority audiences and same goes to the vice versa. Not to mention that it’s a niche so yea.

I want to thank @totaldramawibba for willingly chill with me for my random art live drawing this piece at gwent discord server XD.

#total drama #camp tv #camp tv trenton #goth trenton #td trent #syahazart #Paint Tool SAI #wacom intuos art #I wanna to draw his ring but the ring finger angle is so bothering me so yea no #now y'all get to see his without his coat haa #but not the first time tho lol #I hardly find any difference between violin and viola unless by technical side #like the two are so much alike #the size isn't much different except side by side comparison #aaa #I LOVE SONG OF THE SEA SOUNDTRACKS #it's still new yet so nostalgic

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heli0s-writes · 5 years ago

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Cut

Pairings: Reader x Bucky Barnes Summary: You impulsively make a change. Bucky appreciates it.

Bag of Tricks One-Shots

There was always something about women’s hair that caught Bucky’s attention.

Perhaps it was the latent memories of his sisters and ma doing their hair every night and fixing it each morning in perfect coiffed rings- something about the smell of hairspray and the curling iron, hot and sizzling, barely burnt into the ether.

Women these days probably didn’t spend as much time on their hair, Bucky thought— but well, maybe they did. The Widow changed her look every few years and The Witch spent quite a while on perfecting those waves. Regardless, he always appreciated when a gal walked by with shiny, long, locks, bouncing against her back.

He often regarded his own hair in the mirror, taking note of its length. He wondered if he should cut it again like in those old pictures, but something about the shortness made him feel insecure and too open. He liked to be covered up now—as a reminder of who he’s become.

The only time he really thought about cutting it for good was when you’d snatch it by the handfuls during a fight. It started off as a mouthy little spat where you threatened to rip out his hair for looking better than yours, then slowly transformed into actual pulling, then a few weeks later you were bold enough to use it against him.

You’d gotten him pretty good, all five fingers deep, and brought him down by slamming him against the wall. The face bruise was nothing compared to the tender welts on his scalp for the next two days.

He didn’t let himself stoop to your level, but it started becoming a signature move for you, and you were ballsy enough to try two hands. Of course, it left the rest of your body wide open and he easily kneed you the hell out of the way.

Bucky always appreciated eagerness, but sometimes you could be such a... pain.

You had pretty gorgeous hair, yourself, Bucky admitted. It was impressive: long, thick, and he couldn’t remember if he’d ever seen you fiddle with it after a shower other than wringing the hell out of it with a rough linen towel. You’d brush it loosely with your fingers and then leave it there. Somehow it dried every time into a beautiful pile of wavy locks that was envied by many female agents. You were smart enough to pull it into a tight bun before a fight, but since there was so much of it, it generally flopped out of the band anyway.

Lately it’s grown so long that it was touching your lower back and getting caught in the damndest places, like car windows and doors and the constantly shifting plates in Bucky’s metal hand. You had gotten so upset when he snagged a few strands during a routine grapple in the spaces of his knuckles; you’d stormed off the mat and slammed the door on the way out. The mental chart in Bucky’s head where he kept tally of how often you baffled him earned another strike.

Half an hour later as the last shot emptied in his pistol, he pulled his earmuffs off to find you leaning against the door, choking as he briefly wondered if he’s hallucinating. Your signature unruly mane had been completely buzzed off and left with a close crop of even dark stubble all around your crown. He couldn’t pinch it between his smallest fingers if he tried.

“Holy shit.”

“Yeah. I know. I got tiny little bits all over me. Let’s go wrestle. I’m so gonna kick your ass.”

“Holy shit.”

You pulled a face somewhere between disgusted and amused.

“My buzz cut getting you randy or what, dude? Jesus.”

You turned away with a suspicious eye before walking back towards the gym. Bucky easily caught up, lost in thought about how quickly a simple haircut could change not only an appearance, but someone else’s notions.

For example, he first thought about how much he missed the very specific way your hair shimmered under the fluorescent lights of the hallway— a dull shimmer, but it still did. Or how the curve in your waves would flick against your shoulders when you’d brush them out of the way. Or how lately, the tips of your hair would sway along your lower back, threatening to brush up against your bottom.

Your long hair had given you such a strange feminine grace, making all of your movements fluid and enthralling-- beautiful and strong the way ballerinas are.

But suddenly, none of that existed.

Bucky watched as you marched through the compound, surprised to see, for the first time, that your gait matched his own. People were swerving to the sides of the halls as you walked past, either balking at your lack of locks or your vicious stomping.

When he squared up in the training room, fists raised, he couldn’t help but notice that you had exceptionally thick eyelashes and such sleek and shapely brows. Even the tip of your nose and cheekbones seemed more prominent, and hell, you sported a smattering of barely-there freckles across the side of your left cheek. Bucky thought they looked like the scattering of constellations in a night sky.

He didn’t even see you coming until your weight was already thrown over his chest and he was knocked back onto the mat with you sitting on top of him, knees to the side of his face, right hand on his neck.

“You didn’t even try that time, man. Usually you catch me at least halfway.” You gave him a perturbed look, followed by a strange realization, “I’m riding your collarbones, Barnes.”

Bucky shifted beneath you, mouth hanging open ever so slightly as he crunched forward, the movement of his abs threatening to pitch you over until you felt his wide metal hand splayed out on your spine. The flesh hand palmed the side of your head, brushing over until it rested on the back of your skull, heel of it on your neck. You were surprised when his fingers continued to massage and were even more shocked when the rubbing motion started to feel so good that you leaned into his hand every which way.

He couldn’t help but touch your scalp, the bristles of short hair scrubbing against his palm. It felt so silly, but there was something so deeply liberating to see and feel your mane gone. He saw you in a completely different light- more feral and real.

It had previously shrouded you in his mind under a notion of femininity— one he attached to his sisters, to all women with long hair. It didn’t mean that you were weak, or lesser than him, it was just... something. And seeing you without it was something else.

It stirred him even more so that you had forgone any semblance of style- maybe a fringe, or a bob, a short pixie would have looked nice. Instead, you just... took it all away.

A slow strike was being carved on his baffled list once more.

Bucky pulled all the way up, sliding your body down his chest to straddle his waist with your legs.

“Uh,” you intelligently posited, glancing awkwardly at the intimate position, “What is going on?”

“Why’d you shave it all off?”

“What? Dude my buzzcut is making you randy.” You struggled against his grasp on your back, trying to free your legs until he placed his warm hand on your thigh, quieting your movements.

“I’m just wonderin’.” His voice was so soft you had to lean closer to hear it.

“I dunno,” you shrugged, “Tired of it. Bored of it. Might as well. Kept getting stuck everywhere. It’s just fuckin’ hair. And honestly, it feels great. Badass.” You swatted a few stray bits that had lingered on your shoulder, turning side-to-side. Bucky watched in awe of your striking portfolio- the gentle slope of your nose, your prominent cupid’s bow, the sharp angle of your jawline from your chin... he always thought your hair was a necessary addition to your essence, but without it, you were breathtaking.

“You are obviously a fan.” You laughed sarcastically.

He could only stutter, “Y-yeah, I am.”

You reeled back in response of his admission. Bucky’s eyes kept roaming over your face and it was honestly freaking you out. He looked like he was going to kiss you.

“Christ, Barnes, what in all of hell is--”

His lips descended on yours, the air around you shifting as Bucky sucked in deep breaths, parting and then coming back for seconds, both hands tight on your neck and even harder on your upper thigh. You pulled away, eyes absurdly wide, trying to understand the situation, “Bucky?”

He stopped, cheeks flushing bashfully as if you’d caught him red-handed elbow-deep in the communal Stark Tower cookie jar. “...’m sorry...”

You shook your head, licking your lips over the remnants of his touch, trying to catch your breath.

“You’re a great kisser, Barnes, but honestly, I really want to wrestle. I think the lack of hair is going to make me fucking slippery. Hella aerodynamic, you know?”

He laughed and cuffed you on the back of the head, spine tingling as your hair sandpapered against the inside of his wrist, “You’re on.”

As he watched you rise, your hand swiftly running up the back of your own neck, curious to feel what he felt, Bucky added a new mark to a new list of things you did to him. He mused over the subject matter- hesitant about lingering on it for too long.

You were still a pain, after all.

#bucky barnes x reader #marvel #mcu #reader insert #fanfiction #bucky barnes

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thelittleredheadedmusician · 4 years ago

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My high school dating experience is like a teen movie:

My first (of 2) boyfriend I started dating in eighth grade and it was The Most middle school relationship. He asked me out via note w/ the check yes or no boxes & everything. I was in band (& orchestra) all thru school & my best friend did chorus with him, I found out later that she talked him into asking me out cause he had a massive crush on me (which is why he’d been avoiding me while I was pissed cause we’d been friends since kindergarten). But, he asked me out. We went to A Lot of movies w/ one of our parents. We played pool & hung out in my pool. It was all really innocent and sweet. We even went to build a bear together.

(First sign I was ace, he & my friends conspired so he could kiss me & they covered as he took me onto my back patio & tried. I just noped out of there & never kissed him. Ever. No regrets on that one.)

We get to high school: I’m in marching band & have new friends & he’s in cross country & stops by our practices after his, meets my friends, & it’s fine. School starts, he meets me at my locker at the end of the day, walks me to the bus, we chat, & all our friends (freshman music nerds) think we’re adorable & life’s fine. At least I think it is. Then the kiss thing happened. A few weeks later he walks me to the bus & breaks up with me. I’m blindsided but not heartbroken cause like I’m me & it wasn’t ever really all that serious. But it’s over. Whatever. I’ve borrowed the book Wicked from a friend to read for the first time & I’m deeply invested so it’s fine.

Our schedules never lined up during the day & I’d texted our friends that he’d broken it off right away so I’m no longer thinking about it by the next day. I’m sitting in biology reading Wicked waiting for class to start when this flute player a year older then me comes rushing in. (I would later grow to hate her but the feeling was mutual & does not relate to this story.) She comes up to me & goes “I just saw something & it’s really going to hurt you but I feel the need to tell you.” Now I’m self aware enough to say I’m a bit of a masochist when it comes to my feelings so I tell her to just say it. She goes “Your boyfriend’s cheating on you. I just saw [now ex-boyfriend] making out with some girl in the hall.” I blink at her & go: “Oh. Ok. Well we broke up so. That’s kinda fast but like whatever. He can do what he wants I guess.” She flips out. I shrug it off. Biology starts.

About a week later I’m approached by a trumpet player friend a year older than me saying he really needed to talk to me about this guy. We weren’t super close (we would get close but not from this) & I had probably gotten my hands on The New Teen Titans by this point & was tearing thru those so I’m curious but not concerned. He tells me that he has lunch with Ex & had since the beginning of the school year, that Ex apparently didn’t have any friends in this lunch but saw a bunch of band kids, knew they were my friends, & asked to sit w/ them. They were apparently very confused but agreed & that was that. One of the senior band kids had another senior friend who sat w/ them too so this table was all band kids, Ex, & this senior girl. Apparently, Girl was flirting w/ him from the start but he said he had a girlfriend & that I was in band but she never let up. My friend goes on to tell me eventually Ex started flirting back & as of a week ago they’d started acting all coupley & kissing at lunch; he knows we broke up but he thinks she convinced Ex to do it & the whole thing just isn’t sitting right &!that I should know. I thank him, say it’s weird Ex would sit w/ my friends & not his own to begin w/, am now a little mad, & the two of us keep talking about it but really that’s that.

2 weeks after we’ve broken up Ex starts acting weird & rude to our mutual freshmen friends, including my best friend who set us up. Eventually he stops talking to them all together & says it’s cause his girlfriend doesn’t want him talking to other girls, especially none that are friends with me. Trumpet player tells me that she’s started being Super controlling w/ Ex at lunch & about a month after I’m mad cause this girl is lowkey abusive, making all of my friends miserable, trashing me, & I don’t even know who she is. They go to prom together, he seems thrilled, everyone else is super pissed that she’s controlling him & that he doesn’t see it. Meanwhile, I haven’t spoken to him since we broke up.

The next year we end up in English class together. We became friends in kindergarten because the miracle of the alphabet meant we sat next to each other. Guess what happens? Yup. Well the room is weird so he’s actually in front of me, I can only get to my desk shoved in the corner by passing him. The first day he didn’t even look at me. The next day I cornered him & pretty much said “we’re going to have to work together. I’m not even mad. Can you just talk to me? If you don’t want to be friends we don’t have to.” He apologized, said they broke up & he was taking a break from dating & we went back to being friends! He started talking to his old friends again! Then he went back to normal. & then slowly turned into a dick. But that was on his own w/out a controlling girlfriend.

Second relationship had drama prior to me entering the picture.

When I was a freshman the band’s assistant drum major was a junior who (for her hair) we’re gonna call Ginger. She was a piccolo, super talented, strong willed, could be mean, but mostly just driven & outgoing. She was going on four years dating the tuba player, also a junior, who was quiet, funny, super nice, & a bit of a little shit. They were the band power couple & everyone knew it. Now, Ginger & I quickly became friends because we had really similar personalities & just clicked (we also kinda looked alike though I was taller & my hair was darker).

Their senior year there was a group of us who hung out all the time & were just close. It was mostly seniors including them, myself, & a few others. Ginger was drum major & it was really obvious to everyone in band I was going to be drum major one day too.

That year was fun! Then the seniors all graduated & were off to college. The power couple were going to school together & we all just kinda thought they’d graduate, get married, buy a house & have kids. & their kids would do band. That’s a nope.

In September a girl their year from the guard got a Snapchat from a guy friend of hers. He was sitting on his bed with a girl in his lap. Who she recognized. As Ginger. She immediately texted the tuba boy saying “this is really awkward & I feel awful but I think Ginger is cheating on you.” He confronts Ginger & she admits to it. They break up.

I’m a junior in high school, bummed most of my friends graduated & being slowly driven miserable by the drum major (flute player from before!). I had been texting my friends while they were at college, Ginger stops texting back & Tuba Boy tells me about the breakup. I tell him I’m sorry but I’m here for him. We end up texting A Lot & wound up getting really close and in December he asks me out. Not knowing what else to do I say yes.

Our first date I’ve actually talked about on here before. It’s in my high school story tag & is worth the look. We were hot gossip for the next 6 months until it was decided I wasn’t a rebound despite indicators. We broke up after I started college (almost 2 years later) & he still buys his mom flowers from my mom.

#personal #true story from high school #long post #i owe 100% sober theater kid house party in the woods stories #thats next on my bs mini memoirs that these lowkey are lol

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ducktracy · 5 years ago

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143. toy town hall (1936)

release date: september 19th, 1936

series: merrie melodies

director: friz freleng

starring: berneice hansell (sonny), tommy bond (rabbit)

carl stalling’s first merrie melody, and the last merrie melody to use the “i think you’re ducky” theme song, which has been in use since 1933. starting with boulevardier from the bronx, the theme song would be changed into the one we all know and love today, “merrily we roll along.” a particularly reuse heavy cartoon, toy town hall details the adventures of a baby’s toys coming to life and putting on their very own radio show for him, seeing as his mother won’t let him listen to the radio.

a baby lies on the carpet in front of the radio, enthralled with the sound of ben bernie’s voice filling the room, giving his catchphrase such as “yowza!” suddenly, the offscreen mother turns the knob of the radio. “come on, sonny, it’s way past your bedtime.” sonny resists as his mother drags him away, crying “i wanna hear the radio! i don’t wanna go to bed!” a good choice of concealing the mother, only making her arm visible. subtle yet effective.

nevertheless, sonny is placed in his crib, with sonny glaring daggers at his offscreen mother before turning away to face the window. his mother turns out the light, and there’s quite a moody overlay of the shadow of the snowflakes falling outside reflecting on sonny. we pan across his floor, toys strewn about at every corner, and rise up to the clock on his wall (complete with an elephant pendulum.) the hands of the clock turn as time marches on.

recycled from those beautiful dames, two toy soldiers blow a fanfare into their trumpets, the fanfare so strenuous that their faces turn red as their pants deflate around their ankles, their waists turning pencil thin as they blow out as much air as they can. the faces turning red was added in for this short. an army of toys cheer, and the noise wakes up sonny, who grins eagerly.

with that, a jack in the box springs open, revealing a caricature of radio show personality fred allen, where he introduces the toy town hall—a play on allen’s program “town hall tonight.” he introduces the first stars of the night—the marching toy soldiers from beauty and the beast. a mini parade takes over the bedroom, with caricatures such as eddie cantor and rudy vallee riding along on toy horses.

probably the most amusing part of the cartoon: as allen introduces the next act, a little girl croons “MR. ALLEN! ooooh, MR. ALLEN!” she gives him a smitten gaze as he pauses his introduction (with a great frown on his face), haughtily retorting “i’ll be switched. you here again?” instead of providing a proper response, the girl just coos “TALLY-HOOO!” and walks away, still looking at him all the way. great comedic timing.

regardless of the interruption, the next act is introduced. an elephant puts a spotlight on a curtain, reused from those beautiful dames, and we get a toy version of the bing crosby chicken from let it be me singing, well, “let it be me”, audio reused from the episode. i’m a lot more lenient on the reuses—of course i’d much prefer a cartoon that has original footage, but in the end it really depends on HOW the reuses are put together that determines the quality of the end product. it’s certainly one reuse after the other, but there (right now, anyway) are little breaks in between, which adds for some breathing room. plus, an audience member in 1936 is not going to notice, and i try to adopt part of that attitude while watching these.

there is a brief cheering section, and eddie cantor repeats his production of “merrily we roll along” from billboard frolics. sonny applauds the number, and three men playing a violin with one continuous bow follow after eddie, reused from the merry old soul. the synchronization between animation and music is very well done. elsewhere, a rudy vallee toy (recycled from the lady in red, though there have been many a caricature of rudy) performs his number. speaking of, fred allen introduces the lady in red, and the little cockroach and her backup singers repeat the shtick from the same cartoon. i know these descriptions are shorter than usual, but i’ve already covered them in depth, and there’s not really much to say. the animation is decent, and the music is certainly good, but it’s far from exciting. i also say that as someone who has seen these shorts before, so i have my biases. what IS new is sonny in his crib, giddily shaking a pair of maracas for the beat of the music.

a nice little touch is a balloon blowing itself up with the aid of a gas valve (perfectly placed in a toddler’s bedroom, who could turn the knob at any time mistaking it for a toy) and placing a flute up to the opening at the top of its head, piping to the music. the lady in red flirts with the balloon, batting her eyelashes at him, and he instantly deflated with a sheepish grin.

more applause from the toys and sonny. however, a box on the foot of sonny’s bed begins to writhe and bounce, and sonny turns his attention towards the box. inside is a much more colorful, polka-dotted version of peter rabbit from country boy and my green fedora. he gives the iconic joe penner laugh, launching into “my green fedora” (animation reused, vocals new and sounding even more like owl jolson), with sonny also responding in the joe penner laugh. the song number concludes, just in time for a mechanical toy band (a bunch of jazz players in blackface, of course 🙄. the concept isn’t original, but i believe the animation is new.) all the toys dance along to the jaunty beat of the music, which is pretty catchy.

sonny’s elephant clock ticks on, the hands on the face of the clock making rapid full rotations. pan back across the floor, with only ticking breaking the silence as all the previously active toys are now back in their places, unmoving. sonny’s asleep in his bed, but not for long: the sun rises, and his mother calls “wake up, sonny! wake up, sonny, it’s time for breakfast!” sonny frowns and retorts “alright, alright!”, grabbing a mallet and angrily smacking the bars of his crib as we iris out.

i’m curious as to what constituted all the retakes. of course, this is still the depression era, and if you have a way to save money, why wouldn’t you? but we haven’t seen such a heavy concentration of recycled animation in at least a year or two. i’m wondering if friz went over budget with a previous short, or if jack king’s leave and frank tashlin’s debut caused brief pandemonium as directors were switching around, units being established—probably that. bob mckimson gets an animation credit on this (if i had to guess, he probably did the scenes with sonny, or at least the mother. he would typically be assigned scenes that required volumetric, lifelike, human motions), and i know he eventually switched over to tashlin’s unit for awhile. regardless, it’s not a BAD short—there have been much sloppier compilations of reuses. the animation was decent, and the music good, and voice acting entertaining, but it certainly isn’t anything to write home about. unfortunately, this cartoon is more boring than anything, but it’s not bad, either. it wouldn’t kill you to skip.

link!

#lt #toy town hall #freleng #reviews #long post

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logancreatesworlds · 5 years ago

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Black Folks Don’t Do That Shit

Author’s Note: Hello everyone! So I got this idea after seeing a Tumblr post with Lupita Nyong’o and it kinda just spiraled from there. Hope you all like it!

Warnings: Some harsh language and that’s it...for now. 😈😈😈

Disclaimer: None of the images used are mine.

Prologue

You shook nervously as your eyes shot open. Harsh breaths hit your lungs as you tried your best to sit up, your heart drumming as if it were part of a marching band. Something stopped you. You looked down at your wrists to see that they were bound to a bed.

You pulled and pulled with all your might, but it was useless.

Then, the door opened and she walked in.

Your eyes narrowed, “You.”

She smiled, “Yes kitten, me.”

“You drugged me.”

“Yes. To make you more…compliant.”

She sat down and smiled pleasantly.

Her red lips curled upwards like a Cheshire Cat.

It was almost like things were normal, like she was normal…

But she wasn’t.

She ran her clawed hand up your naked thigh, her bright red eyes alight with undead interest.

You should kick her, fight her – do something, but you didn’t.

Black folks don’t do that shit.

“So sad to see you leaving,” Pepper Potts commented as she watched you pack your last suitcase, her red lips sticking out in a thin line of her pale face.

“Yeah,” you agreed, “But I have to be moving on. Can’t stay in the same place for too long, right?”

“Well,” Pepper said, “If your path leads you back to New York, you always have a job here.”

“Thank you,” you replied, giving her one last hug.

Today was your last day over at Stark Tower as the Stark family’s personal chef. Sure, Friday could have done it, but Tony insisted on paying you 15$ an hour to work during the week after tasting your banana pudding.

However, cooking the same healthy ass Californian recipes were just getting too old. You were forgetting why you enjoyed cooking in the first place.

You quietly sat on the next Amtrak train back to your home – New Orleans, Louisiana.

Time to get reconnected.

“Mama!”

“(Y/N)! Oh my babygirl, you’re home!”

You squeezed her tightly as her familiar scent filled your nose.

Pears, lilac, fresh linen...

“I missed you,” you said, kissing her cheek.

“And I missed you too,” she replied, “Come on in. I got your favorite cookin’.”

“Crawfish n’ rice?”

“Yup. And we also have pecan pie.”

“Of which I will be getting the first slice,” a familiar voice said.

While that voice didn’t disturb your mother, it still scared you even now.

“(Y/N),” your mama said, “You remember Sunny, don’t you?”

How could you forget him?

“Of course,” you replied, plastering a falsified smile on your face.

“Good to see you (Y/N).”

“You too.”

A brief, awkward silence washed over the room, but your mother - ever the perfectionist mediatior, quickly ushered you upstairs to help you unpack.

This was going to be a long visit.

You sighed softly as you breathed in through your nose.

The New Orleans air was thick with the scent of car oil, sweat, trumpets and dough frying into beignets.

It smelled like home.

But there was something else in the air.

Children’s laughter, bubbling chocolate, pumpkin rinds...

Halloween, or it would be in thirteen days.

It was fitting, given all the smell of spook in the wind and jack-o’-lanterns on porches.

It was your favorite time of year.

Feeling invigorated, you walked into a farmer’s market and up to a local vendor who was carrying a rather large flower stand with him.

“Excuse me, kind sir?”

“Why hello lady,” he said in that familiar southern accent, “What can I do you for?”

“I’m looking for some translucent orchids,” you said, “Do you have any available?”

“Translucent orchids? Hmmm roses...daffodils...lilac. Nope. No orchid. Sorry sweetie.”

“Thanks anyway.”

You continued to walk, quietly ghosting through the loud and boisterous crowd.

Despite feeling invisible, you could feel someone watching you - like you weren’t alone.

You wish, you though petulantly to yourself.

You looked upon the fruits and vegetables, fitting in between families of black fathers, ebony mothers and swart children.

They all seemed so happy...

Sighing, you got to the other end of the market and looked back.

For a second, it seemed like the world slowed down.

Then...

“Penny for your thoughts?”

You turned around and saw a woman.

Now she stuck out.

Her dark skin stood out against the umbrella she was holding and her black outfit was only matched by her tinted glasses.

She looked like the night itself.

Nevertheless, you spoke to her.

“Just not in the Halloween spirit,” you replied.

“Such a shame,” she commented, “New Orleans is a place of magic. And you seem like you are in tuned with its charm.”

“Me?” You scoffed and laughed. “I’m not much “in tuned” with anything to tell ya’ the truth...”

“Well,” she replied, “Perhaps I can change that.”

She extended her hand to you, and in her dark manicured fingers lied a small card.

You read the mysterious writing.

‘The Udaku Family’

“The Udaku Family huh? Since when do families have their own cards?”

“The couple I work for is a bit...unorthodox. And they need a new cook.”

You furrowed your brow, “How did you know I was a cook?”

She smiled, “You were looking at the fruits and vegetables the most, and you seemed disgusted with the ones that looked too ripe. Only someone who is planning to cook is concerned with such affairs.”

“Well aren’t you observant?”

“I’m trained to see what’s in front of me.”

“So...your boss is looking for a cook. When do you want me to come?”

“Tonight,” she answered, “A black Cadillac shall pick you up.”

“But you don’t even know where I live?”

“Don’t worry. We’ll find you.”

You briefly looked down at the card, “Look lady, I-”

She was gone.

You quietly looked out the window, anxiously waiting for that black car to roll up.

Was this a good idea? Of course not.

“They were probably sex traffickers looking for an innocent young girl,” your mother had said.

Still, you were going.

Yes, this is how literally every white girl got kidnapped in all the horror movies you watched, but something pulled you towards that woman at the market today.

There was that intuition in the back of your mind...

‘Don’t go to this weird ass house. Black folks don’t do that shit.’

And yet? You didn’t listen to it.

Soon, a car rolled up in front of the main walkway.

A Cadillac Sixty Special maybe?

Its black coat shined as the moonlight casted a gentle shadow upon it.

You swiftly got up and exited the house, kissing your mother goodbye on the way.

The woman from earlier was in the driver’s seat.

“You made it,” she said with the same silky tone from earlier.

“Uh...yeah,” you said, clutching your pure strap, “Yeah, I’m ready.”

She smiled and nudged her head towards the back, signaling you to get in.

You swiftly obeyed and soon you were riding into the night.

“So...how long y’all been working for these Udakus?” You asked as the car drove with buttery ease.

The woman in the front passanger seat answered, “For a long time.”

“Okay...”

You briefly looked out the window and asked another question.

“Do you guys always fetch chefs from their houses or...?”

The woman laughed quietly, “You are quite curious, little one.”

You raised an eyebrow.

Little one...?

“That’s an interesting accent you got there? Where y’all from?”

The first woman gave you answer, “A place far away from here.”

You were quiet after that.

Your mouth dropped at the black and white house that came into view.

Even though the moon and headlights were your only source of light, you could still spot its modern quality.

“Damn,” you mumbled.

The women laughed, “We get that a lot.”

They pulled in and the three of you got out.

That feeling of attraction from earlier now increased tenfold as you got closer to the door.

The door unlocked and slowly creaked open.

Holy. Fucking. Shit.

“Wow,” you commented, “Nice place.”

“We do the best we can,” the first woman said.

“I love the decor.”

“Then you shall make a fine fixture here,” the other answered.

“Now remember,” the first woman turned back to you, “Our employers are a bit strange but they are kind. Don’t let them scare you. Take a seat and relax. They shall be out soon.”

You looked around, “Thanks gu-”

They were gone.

You huffed and sat on the plush roundabout.

What is it with these people and disappearing?

You waited for what felt like hours.

Looking at your clock, you saw the time.

9:45 pm.

Huffing, you laid back and prepared to text your mom that she was right.

This was a dumb idea.

“Nice work (Y/N),” you grumbled to yourself, “You’re in a house owned by some rich ass white folks who you don’t know. And they are clearly too rich and occupied for you. Who do they think they are - Will and Grace?”

“Not exactly.”

You gasped and sprung up, whipping around quickly.

The woman standing there was the most beautiful woman you had ever seen.

She was dark-skinned, with an hourglass figure that would make any model weep.

Her bright red dress showed perfectly under the light of the chandelier.

Her hair was shaven with dark curls atop her head and her eyes...

They were red.

“You must be the chef my girls brought me,” she said, her tongue beckoning you with an African accent you couldn’t place, “I am pleased. They chose well.”

“Oh uh...thank you. Forgve my rambling please. I’m usually not that rude-”

You gasped when the woman quickly pulled your extended hand to her with lightning reflexes.

“It is already forgotten,” she said, her honeyed voice filling your ears.

She held your hand an inch away from your nose and took a big sniff.

Her eyes brightened, “You have a lovely scent.”

“Um...thanks, it’s my mom’s perfume. I wanted to make a good impression.”

She nodded and let your hand go, “Come. It is time for your interview to start.”

“Yes ma’am. I have my resume-”

“That won’t be necessary. All I need is your name.”

“(Y/N), (Y/N) (Y/M/N) (Y/L/N). And you are?”

“I am called Nakia. My two girls who brought you here are Okoye and Ayo.”

“Those are pretty names.”

“If you manage to impress me, then you might learn where they come from.”

Nakia walked you into a large kitchen.

The cabinets were pure oak, the fridge was stainless steel and the island was marble.

She sat down, “Cook for me.”

“What do you want me to make?”

She smiled at you, “Anything you want.”

You quietly sat your purse down and got to work.

You fished out all the dished and ingredients and whipped up one of your favorite recipes.

Nakia watched you interested intent.

You boiled the rice and fried the shrimp.

You sautéed the peppers and onions to perfection before taking them and the shrimp and setting them on top of the Basmatti.

You then set the bowl in front of Nakia along with a glass of wine and handed her a fork.

“Bon appétit,” you said, standing back, “Enjoy.”

Nakia nodded and ate.

Her face was expressionless for most of the meal and when she was done, she smiled at you.

“You’re hired.”

Your eyes bugged out of your head.

“Really?!”

“Mhmm.”

“Oh ma’am thank you so much. But...won’t hyour husband be upset that you hired me without his approval.”

“My husband is a hermet. But despite that we are equals. And trust me...”

Her smile widened.

“He will like you.”

____________

And that is all for now my lovelies! Hope you stay tuned for the next part. Please feel free to tell me if I should just delete this. I’ve been throwing this idea around for a while now...

@macfizzle @wakanda-inspired @bribrisback @kumkaniudaku @black-is-beautiful18 @weasleyginerva @kissesbooboo @supersizemeplz @chaneajoyyy @dreamingoftchalla @lavitabella87 @pastelpanda19 @chocolatemonkeyrainbows @blackreaders-assemble @blackmissfrizzle @laketaj24 @eerythingisshaka @blackgirloneshots @sisterwifeudaku @destinio1 @pocmarvelworks @black-mcu-imagines @black-is-beautiful18 @inlovewithmakeupcomicsanimelove @wakandalivesforever @iwrite4poc @siriuslycollins @wakandas-vibranium @100kindsofblake @muse-of-mbaku @naturally-bri @helperofthenight @dumbchick @sweettea-and-honeybutter @drsunshine97 @pastelastronomy24 @plussizeappreciationfics @royallyprincesslilly @afro-royalty @tenaciousarcadeexpert @shinyanchorface @scarlettlullaby16 @hennessystevens-udaku @stark-red19 @marvelheaux @valynsia

#t'challa x black!reader #t'challa x nakia x black!reader #polyam fics #black panther fic #t'challa x reader #vampire fics #ugh I know there are some grammatical errors SOMEHWERE up in this thing #oh well #I'm writing again!!!#that's what matters

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