#instead of delaying with the thought of 'but this way the new doc will see symptoms for sure!'

[tj-crochets]

Hey y’all! I had a, uh, moderate-to-severe allergic reaction* yesterday. I ended up having to take a few benadryl and slept like twelve hours because the migraine was intense, and now I am mostly better but my brain is Not Making Decisions (well. I am still functioning enough for work but that’s different braining). What plushies should I sew next? Should I make the mammoth his baby tusks, or should I start sewing doll clothes for the 14.5″ doll (aka the AG WellieWishers line) that should be arriving in the mail today? Or should I make something else entirely? I guess I could try to design a new plushie pattern, but last time I tried to design something post-allergic-reaction I ended up with The Hamster Pattern Where I Forgot Hamsters Had Limbs Or Ears lol

*I have no idea what the scale is for people without weird mast cell issues but it wasn’t anaphylaxis? probably**? **sometimes when I tell doctors my allergic reactions affect blood pressure they are like “that only happens with anaphylaxis” but I am pretty sure that’s not necessarily true. That said, if you don’t have a history of Weird Allergies maybe go to a doctor if your allergic reactions start affecting your cardiovascular system. I am both not a doctor and an outlier who should not have been counted lol

[leche-flandom]

It's been quite a week

Well, quite a summer. I just looked at my docs and saw that I haven't opened any of them since May 😭

My BIL, his girlfriend, and his 3 kids came for a visit from the Midwest. They were supposed to visit last year, but when our banyo repairs were delayed BIL decided to postpone the trip by a whole year to avoid staying with their dad. Grandpa Asshole is universally viewed as an unpleasant, racist, and sexist manchild. My husband would have gone no contact a long time ago except he wants to keep a relationship with his stepmom.

It was awesome seeing my kid have fun with her cousins, despite all the noise. She sometimes wishes she had siblings and I just tell her one day we'll get a cat 😹 And the new girlfriend is nice too. We spent a long time chatting about Agents of SHIELD, which she first watched 4 years ago and has watched about 7 times since. I'm afraid to get too attached to her though, because she keeps hinting very unsubtly that she wants to get married and my BIL is now a commitment-phobe. Although I disagree with her pressuring him to the altar, I do think that my BIL is the type of guy who needs a woman to keep him from falling apart. Really, his actual offspring should be enough motivation but eh...

Grandpa Asshole was annoyed/confused that his grandkids didn't respond well to his antics. We don't know why he thought he could have an automatic relationship with grandchildren he can't bother to visit because he prioritizes his golf and tennis schedules higher (he's not a pro or anything, just retired with lots of free time). He made my daughter cry because she wouldn't smile for a picture, and he picked her up and swung her to cajole her into a better mood. My kid absolutely hates being maneuvered against her will. I think it's because she's little like me, so lots of people think she's younger than she is and treat her like a baby to pick up all the time. So that was the first loud kerfuffle.

And then one of her cousins, who is on the autism spectrum, had a meltdown on a trip to a farm. BIL took the cousin away from the animals and to the parked car so he could calm him down, and Grandpa Asshole followed them to yell at the poor kid over BIL's shoulder, saying something like "If you don't stop crying nobody's gonna have fun!" I wasn't there, thank god (because I made up a doctor's appointment to avoid spending time with Grandpa Asshole) or I would have lost it. BIL is a dickhead in many ways, but I have to hand it to him for not reacting with his usual temper. Instead of yelling back at Grandpa Asshole, BIL just told him that he wasn't helping and told him to go away. I guess BIL is slowly but surely maturing. Later, Grandpa Asshole had the nerve to expect hugs from everyone. As the youngins would say: bruh.

Now that they're gone, all the stress-inducing obstacles are over with and we have a month left of just regular summer vacation. The husband has hinted that maybe I should organize a vacation for just the three of us before school starts, but I'm just too exhausted so I hope he forgets.

Now back to my regularly scheduled fanfic rereadings, lol.

[recurring-polynya]

Writing/Art Update 6/20/2023

Once again it is Tuesday, so I have to make my report.

So, the first thing to report is that I actually did get my new computer (they emailed and told me it was delayed and then it showed up right when they initially said it would anyway??) Anyway, it is here, and migrating was quite easy. The one "wrinkle" was that we thought it would be fairly easy to put Office on it, and the details are very boring and stupid, but it wasn't, but the fact was, I was not enjoying my experimental migration to Word, so I am back in Google Docs. I briefly considered trying to write in TextPad and just html as I go, and then I felt like a 70-year-old FORTRAN programmer (bad) or possibly a Neal Stephenson side character (worse) and decided I would suck it up with GDocs probably scraping my work and selling it directly to Elon Musk. Whatever.

Enough curmudgeoning. No one wants this, least of all me. I am on my new compy. I got the big fanfic put back in GDocs, but I did not do any further work on it this week. I did start my Bleach Returns week fanfic, which is currently, uhhhhh, 667 words. It's better than nothing!!

I officially gave up on the art I was working on last week, I just wasn't into it. I started something else instead. It's a series of sketches, and I have done one and a half of them. "Done" is sort of vague, because I may go back at the end and either do more clean-up, or ink them. I just want to see how it goes overall. I hope to do at least five, spending about a day on each on. (This is also for Bleach Returns week).

My kids both finished school last week, so it's been a little chaotic overall, and I suppose I should be grateful to have gotten anything done. I'd say we're settling in, but there's not much for settling, because every day is different, and every week has different things. We've been to the pool, we've been to the ice rink, we have been to the library. My daughter has swim lessons this week. My son starts camp next week.

I started the week feeling very behind and guilty, but somewhere part way through the week, I got a big wave of "lol no one cares what you do" and I've been cruising on that big wave of apathy for a bit. Now that I think about it, I think my anxiety has been winning the war for too long now, and it's good to see that my depression rallying on my behalf. All of this sounds terrible 😂but it's good for me, actually, or at least, it's as good as it ever gets around here. Will I accomplish anything this summer? That's none of my business! Whatever the answer is, it'll be as much a surprise to me as it is to you.

PS: I put in the depression stuff and didn't delete it b/c I like to use these to track my own moods over time, but don't worry about, it's very normal for me and also no one needs to comment on it.

[alittlextrathatway]

So, I’ve changed tactics on a multichap I started and because of that, this intro to the first chapter is now defunct. Instead of letting it get dusty in my google docs I thought I would share the non-spoilery bits. Enjoy!

******

Severide knows why he’s up early. He has to be.

A day of fishing that starts late is a waste of time.

Boden can’t come to the bachelor party mostly as a result of the extremely thin professional and personal boundary he tries to maintain between himself and 51. Instead he offered to take the day off and go fishing with Kelly on his boat.

It’s a compromise Kelly can definitely live with.

What he didn’t expect when he woke up that morning was to find Sylvie Brett leaning against his kitchen island with a cup of coffee in her hands.

He stops and blinks tiredly at her. “What time is it?” He asks her.

“Five, why?” She says through a yawn.

“Just making sure I hadn’t missed my alarm. Last time you slept over no one saw you before lunchtime — and by you I mean you and Matt.”

She blushes but grins without shame. “I have somewhere to be today and Matt has shift so an early start it is.”

He walks around the island and gently hip checks her, playfully making room for himself in front of the coffee maker. “You’re off today too?”

She nods and bounces on her feet as a beaming smile spreads over her lips. In these moments, he remembers Sylvie when she was green and earnest, getting to know everyone at 51 for the very first time. She hasn’t changed too much, thank god. Not in any detrimental way at least. He’s watched from the sidelines for years as she became better and stronger — a leader the CFD could be proud of. He was in her orbit a lot in those early days but as life became busier that fell away and now that she’s dating Matt he finds himself growing close to her again.

He regrets ever letting them drift apart. He’s ashamed to say that he forgot how much fun she could be.

“I’m babysitting Amelia today,” she tells him. “Scott has a last minute all day work thing and his nanny is out of town so it’s Big Sister Sylvie to the rescue.”

“As opposed to every day Sylvie who never saves lives,” he teases dryly.

She rolls her eyes with a chuckle. “Right. Anyway, I still have to go back to my place and pack before I can hit the road.”

“Casey isn’t insisting on driving you?” Severide asks her with a knowing smirk. Every time Brett makes the trip out to Rockford, Matt makes sure to go with her. Casey would never admit it outloud, but Sylvie’s little sister has him wrapped around her tiny little finger. So does Sylvie Brett, but that’s beside the point at the moment.

She laughs lightly and shakes her head. “He tried, but I told him the house couldn’t afford to be missing both the PIC and the Captain at the last minute. Not with Boden no longer at 51 anyway. That seemed to convince him.”

“It would,” Kelly replies, laughing with her. “We’re all suckers for 51 and any of the people in it.”

There’s a shuffling sound from the other end of the room and they both look up just in time to see Matt walk into the living room.

“Are you leaving already?” He asks Sylvie as he joins them in the kitchen.

She nods and hands him her half finished coffee. “I need to be at Scott’s early so he can leave for work and I still have to pack.” Her arms go around his neck, she leans into his chest, and places a lingering kiss on his lips. “Don’t worry, I wasn’t going to leave without a proper goodbye. I promise.”

Matt’s arm circles her waist and pulls her flush against him, with their shared coffee in his free hand. “I’d hope not. We’d have to have a serious talk if you did.”

“You two are gross,” Severide declares with a teasing grimace. “Too new, too cute. Take it back to your room, Case.”

“You’re one to talk,” Matt fires back with a wide grin. “You and Kidd are equally disgusting.” He takes a sip of the coffee and then winces, turning to Sylvie with a mock accusatory glare. “How much sugar did you put in this?”

“Less than I normally do,” she replies, poking his side playfully. “Do you have something to say about it?”

Casey yelps and squirms away from her with a laugh. “No, babe. Not a single complaint. I’m fine with drinking mostly sugar and cream.”

Sylvie chuckles and pokes him again. “God, you’re a jerk.”

As much as Kelly teases them, he doesn’t actually find them disgusting. If he’s truthful, he’s ecstatic for Casey. And for Brett too. They’re two of the best people he knows and they’ve both had a lot of bad luck over the last few years. He’s relieved to see them happy and joyful. Casey may think he and Stella have a unique connection, but Casey and Brett have one too. One grown from friendship and mutual respect. It’s a stronger foundation than Severide had with Kidd when they started. He has a feeling his best friend has finally found his forever person and he anticipates things will move faster than either of them are willing to admit right now.

When Matt commits, he commits. It won’t take them long to take the next step. Whatever that looks like for them.

Sylvie takes her coffee back for another gulping sip and then sets it on the counter. “I should head out.”

Matt leans down to kiss her quickly and casually. “Be careful. Call me before you actually get on the road, yeah?”

“Of course,” she assures him as she runs a soft caress over his cheek. “I’ll call you when I leave for Rockford and when I get to Scott’s. I promise.” She grabs her duffle from where it sits by the door and slings the strap over her shoulder. “Have fun on your day off, Severide!”

“And you enjoy that little sister of yours!”

“You know I will!”

Matt walks her out of the loft with one hand on the small of her back and a besotted grin on his face. Severide chuckles softly and shakes his head.

As long as he’s known Matt, he’s never seen him so gone on anyone. He’s glad Casey and Brett worked it out. They deserve someone who reciprocates their feelings unconditionally.

******

Since Kelly and Sylvie are off, Matt offers to drive Stella to work in his truck. Carpooling saves her gas and mileage so she quickly agrees.

Severide is already gone by the time she wakes up. Fishing with Boden is serious business. She knows better than to keep him from it or delay him from leaving precisely when he means to.

On the way to the Firehouse, Matt’s phone rings from the phone mount on his dash. At the sight of Sylvie’s name he eagerly hits speaker.

“Hey,” he greets.

Stella grins at his chipper tone. It took them a while but she’s grateful her two best friends got their act together finally.

“Hey!”

“Stella’s with me. We’re on our way to work.”

“Oh! Hey, Stella!”

“Hey, Brett! How’s it going?”

“Good! Just stopping for a sugary treat before I hit the road.”

“Bear claw from The Doughnut Vault?” Matt asks knowingly.

“Of course! What else?”

He rolls his eyes with fond frustration. “That’s hardly breakfast.”

“I’ll make sure to eat some real food once I’m at Scott’s,” she promises. “I’m about to head that way now. Should be there in a couple of hours at most.”

“Good,” Matt agrees. “And don’t get so caught up in Mia that you forget to call me when you get there, okay?”

She laughs and the sound is bright. Brighter than anyone’s laugh should be before 8 in the morning, Stella thinks.

“I’ll do my absolute best not to forget. Believe me. I need to get on the road though so I should get off of here.”

“Okay, drive safe. Love you.”

“Love you too.”

“Bye, Brett! Give that baby a good squeeze for me!” Stella chimes in.

“I will! Have a safe shift, both of you.”

“I’ll try and keep the Captain in line but I make no promises. You know how he is.”

Sylvie laughs again but Stella can hear the genuine nerves underneath it. “I do know. Just make sure he stays in one piece.”

“Now that I think I can do.”

“Okay, okay, enough picking on me. Are you two done?” Matt asks with a dry laugh.

“For now,” Sylvie replies. “Call you when I get there. And then I’ll brag about how I’m getting all the baby cuddles and you’re not getting any of them.”

“Damn, Brett,” Stella says with a chuckle. “That’s cold!”

“I try to tell people how mean she is but no one will believe me,” Matt says, shaking his head and grinning playfully. “Take lots of pictures.”

“That’s a given. Talk to you later. I promise.”

“I’m holding you to that. If you don’t I’ll come looking for you. Don’t think I won’t,” Matt threatens, half seriously.

“Oh, I have no doubt you would. If only for the chance to be a baby hog. See you later!”

“Later,” Matt says just before she disconnects the call.

“You two sound sickeningly happy,” Stella observes, grinning widely.

“That’s what Severide said,” Matt replies with a chuckle. “And, you know what, I think we are. Sylvie is…well, she’s the best thing to happen to me in a very long time. So, if that means I’m disgustingly infatuated with her for the rest of my life then I’m okay with that.”

“It may be disgusting,” Stella concedes. “But it’s a good look for you. For her too. You both deserve someone who gives as much as you do. And there’s no one who gives more than you and Brett.”

Matt glances over at her as he parks his truck with a grateful expression. “Thank you, Kidd. I appreciate that.”

“Hey, I just call it like I see it.”

[knickynoo]

In the "Adopted" AU, how is Marty's life different because of it, before and after time travel?

I honestly hadn't given much thought to this other than just that quick post I made, lol. It was just a, "Hey, what if Doc's little joking comment was TRUE" thing, so I don't really have...coherent thoughts. May I offer you some scattered, half-formed thoughts instead??

BEFORE

Well, the "before" would just be what we see of the McFly family in the beginning of the movie. Nothing really different there aside from George and Lorraine, for some reason, hiding the fact that Marty's not their biological son. I don't have the attention span right now to work out the backstory as to how/why he was adopted or why they haven't told him, but I'm sure there's something potentially interesting there that could be explored.

In the first movie (particularly those first 20 minutes or so), I think it's clear how different/separated from his family Marty feels, so I think AU Marty would have those same feelings. He probably even jokes sometimes like, How am I related to you people? or I must have been adopted. But the thing is...he never actually thinks that he is. He's just being dramatic and feeling frustrated at the disconnect he feels, and he's oblivious to the way the whole atmosphere changes at home when he says things like that. Totally misses the way his parents tense up/stare at each other like, Uhhhhh....

OOOH I just had an idea. Maybe Biff even knows, and he uses it as another way to control George. As in, You better do what I say and stay in line, McFly, or I'll tell your kid the big family secret.

That's about what I've got for before, but the real complications would come after whatever point it is that Marty notices he isn't physically fading even though he's vanished from the picture.

He notices something is weird during "Earth Angel", since he can see the pic while he plays. Honestly, idk if he would even think anything of it, especially since this whole time travel thing is new. For all I know, he'd just assume vanishing from existence is a delayed process, and once his parents kiss and the photo is restored, he'd just be like, Oh well, lol that was weird.

Rest of the dance plays out as normal. At the clocktower, Marty brings up the odd occurrence in passing to Doc, as they uncover the DeLorean.

Doc doesn't think anything of it because hey, what does he actually know about the way the space-time continuum works anyway? He shrugs it off and chalks it up to some sort of delay or ripple effect that was corrected before it could hit Marty.

RESULT 1: Marty returns to 1985, everything is the way we see it in the movie, and the improved McFlys still hide the fact Marty's adopted. (Unlikely) OR

RESULT 2: Marty returns to 1985, everything is the way we see it in the movie, BUT the improved McFlys are open about Marty being adopted. The thing is...it isn't something that regularly comes up, not to mention the fact that they all just assume Marty has known since he was little. So Marty settles into the dramatic shift in the family dynamic, starts to grow comfortable, and then BAM! Someone casually says something in regards to his adoption, maybe fondly telling the story of how it came to be or a passing mention of bio parents, etc and Marty is just

O_O ?????? !!!

WhAt

Cue personal crisis, because that is quite the realization to get smacked in the face with out of nowhere

Marty either has to keep his composure long enough to get away from everyone and try to work through what's going on/get in touch with Doc OR his reaction conveys loud and clear that he has NO IDEA WHAT THEY'RE TALKING ABOUT, leading to a whole lot of confusion and worry on his parents' parts.

Like, I said, I don't have the focus to really think up the specifics, but his world would definitely be flipped upside down for a while, mostly because he realizes that he should know about this, but his memories of the timeline haven't caught up with him yet. So he's just left trying to suddenly process it all at once and feels upset that it was hidden from him in the original timeline.

His memories from the improved timeline hopefully catch up with him soon after and he's like, Oh yeah. Cool. And everything is fine because it just feels like a normal, accepted fact, and less like he's been slapped across the face with a large, wet fish or something. Because his family is his family. They love him and he loves them and adoption is beautiful so it's all good.

Even if his memories don't catch up soon after (or ever), he adjusts and works through it. And it takes some time obviously, because he's learning something at 17 that he should have always known, but he gets to a place of acceptance. Because his family is his family. They love him and he loves them and adoption is beautiful so it's all good.

Thanks for the ask! This was fun. You know what, though? The whole Adoption AU is interesting as is, but consider this: Adoption AU in which George doesn't "rescue" Lorraine on the dance floor, leading to them not getting together. All the McFly sibs fade from the photo, Marty remains molecularly intact, and returns to a 1985 where he discovers that he lives with an ENTIRELY DIFFERENT family. Now that's the story that opens up a Big Ol' Can of Worms. (Also would be a Very Sad story)

[saffron-nova21]

X. Waking Up

Remember Me Masterlist

< Previous Chapter • Next Chapter >

Warnings: Strong language, angst, Suna is an asshole. It’s gonna hurt. :)

The first Light Mode is Shinsuke and call/second Light Mode screenshot is Y/N

Dark Mode is the twins.

It had been two really long weeks. And in that short span of time, you’d lost your best friend and most everyone at school’s support. Everyone loved the volleyball team, and by extension, Atsumu Miya. After coming up with their own assumptions about how you’d hurt the twin, they turned their back on you.

Even the volleyball club had.

The only person you had backing you up, currently, was Shinsuke. And even then, sometimes you wondered if he wasn’t beginning to waver as well.

That didn’t matter right now, though. Losing most every friend you had didn’t matter, at all, right now. Because Rintarō was waking up. And he’d know what to do. Suna Rin always knew what to do, when it came to making you feel better.

That didn’t matter right now, though. Losing most every friend you had didn’t matter, at all, right now. Because Rintarō was waking up. And he’d know what to do. Suna Rin always knew what to do, when it came to making you feel better.

In a few moments, you’d find all that hope that swelled up in your chest absolutely crushed.

   Though currently, all you were concerned with was the elated feeling of knowing that your boyfriend was awake and he was okay. You’d finally get to hug him again, to take naps with him, and to sit on his lap after a long, hard day. You’d finally get him back. And after two long weeks of feeling shunned by pretty much everyone within your school, you desperately needed him.

   After you’d been allowed into the room, you looked around, noticing Rintarō was sitting on the edge of his bed, talking to Rei, who brightened immediately as she pointed towards you in excitement. Everyone missed the look of confusion on Rintarō’s face. His father was talking to the doctor, while his mother was standing near, listening to the conversation. But after seeing you, she just smiles, a few happy tears trailing down her cheeks. It had been two weeks, a short amount of time, seemingly. But every one of those days had dragged by like and eternity, everyone hopeful, as each day came and passed, that this would be the day he woke up.

   Nodding at you and waving you on, the older woman shoos you toward your boyfriend. With that encouragement, you take a few steps forward, moving in front of him to wrap your arms around his neck, being wary of his injuries. “I missed you so fucking much.” You whisper into the crook of his neck, so caught up in your emotions that you hadn’t noticed the way he tensed up, until it was too late.

   “I’m so glad you’re awake, I can’t tell you how much I’ve missed you, Rin. The team misses you, as well. The twins have been driving Shinsuke cra -”

   His reaction is delayed, but as soon as he’s able to regain himself, he’s shoving you off of him and giving you a look of clear annoyance, effectively silencing you. “Don’t fucking touch me.” He spits, brushing himself off lazily, as if you’d soiled his clothes just by touching them. “Excuse me, do I fucking know you?”

   You furrow your brows, looking at him for a moment in confusion. Was he joking? Your eyes flicker to his mother, who looks just as surprised by his hostility towards you as you do. Your eyes shift back to him hesitantly, to which he responds with a scoff. “Are you brainless? When asked a question, you’re usually supposed to answer, you know?” His tone was one you hadn’t ever heard from him. It was condescending.

   All of the hope that Suna could make things right, with how dull your life had gotten, recently, dissipated. Instead, the weight on your shoulders grew and it felt like it was going to crush you at any given moment. You can’t find it in you to speak for a moment, finding it hard to even breath. Though with a tug on your sleeve from the eight year old beside you, you shake your head and respond... Well, as well as you can, at least.

   “Rintarō, I’m... We’re... We’ve...” You can’t quite manage to speak through your distress and confusion.

   So, Rei speaks for you. “Rinny, this is Y/N, don’t be silly! You two have been dating for like a whole... Two years!” She grins happily, not quite reading the room. Though she was eight, that was to be expected. “You’re gonna marry them, remember?” The little girl takes your hand and shows off the dark promise ring on your finger. 

   Rintarō’s eyes soften as he looks down at his little sister, a smile crossing his lips. “Hey, kid, why don’t you take mom and dad and go get us some sodas? I’m parched.” 

   Rei watches him suspiciously for a moment, before smiling and turning to you, grinning. “You want a drink, Y/N-chan?”

   Swallowing the lump in your throat, you can’t look away from Suna as he locks you in an intense gaze. “No, I’m good, Rei. You go ahead...”

   His parents frown a bit at the thought of leaving you both alone, with Rintarō’s hostility, but they both cave, when Rei starts tugging on their arms, dragging them out of the room, the doctor quickly following behind.

   Suna stands slowly, making you shrink and take a step back from him, still trying to process - why couldn’t he remember you?

   “Doctor mentioned some shit about amnesia. Roughly four or five years of lost memories.” He states, eyeing you and raising an eyebrow. “You’re attractive, I’ll give you that. So what was it? A bet? Friends with benefits?” Rintarō crosses his arms as he eyes you over, watching your confusion further.

   You finally manage to speak. Though it’s hard with the way your heart has dropped to the floor and with the lump in your throat, just barely containing more tears shed. Why, on top of everything else? “What? What do you mean?”

   He scoffs and runs a hand through his dark hair. “Come on. I wouldn’t actually date anyone for so long, without some benefit.” He laughs a bit in amusement, shaking his head as he looks at you. “Wait... You’re serious? I actually gave you that shit?” His pointed gaze shifts to your hand.

   You nod and let out a shaky breath. “There was no bet, Rintarō... I... I can show you pictures of our dates and all of our texts, if you want, but... We... We’re a couple... We’re happy.”

   Rintarō continues to watch you through lazy eyes. “Were. We were a couple. We were happy. Past tense, darling. I don’t even know your name.”

   “Y/N... Y/N Kita.” You respond quickly. “Look, it’s - it’s fine that you don’t remember me, but... Will the amnesia wear off?” 

   “Doctor says probably so. Could take a while. He also said hearing people talk about memories we had might help.” He shrugs nonchalantly. “Hurry up and get out your phone, I want to see that supposed proof.” He holds his hand out for you, no room for question resting in his tone.

   Gingerly handing your phone over, Rintarō lets out a sigh, noticing you’d forgotten to unlock your phone. Though to both of your surprise, he opens it, typing in the code with ease. Then, he scrolls through your phones, spotting the familiar screen and apps, finally finding your photos. “You have me as your background? Really?” He spares you a short glance, before looking through your photos, most of them with him. “If I’m your boyfriend, who’s this? With the piss colored hair.” 

   “Atsumu. He’s got a twin named Osamu. We’re all second years at Inarizaki. We play volleyball with them. He’s... He was my best friend.” You rub your arm uncomfortably as you stand there.

   Rintarō nods, letting out a hum of acknowledgment, before going to your texts and finding his contact, tapping on it. “Clingy thing, aren’t you?” He notes, before beginning to read through.

   It’s a long few moments before he speaks again, shutting off your phone and handing it to you. “Do you remember anything?” You ask, attentively monitoring his expression.

   Shrugging, his lips quirk up a bit in a lazy smirk, “No, but like I said. Doc said it might come back. So, let’s hear more about this relationship of ours.”

   As much relief washed over you at his words, you were completely unaware that this wasn’t the Suna you had met three years ago, who had matured enough to allow himself to get close to you and eventually fall in love with you. This wasn’t the Suna Rintarō who you’d fallen in love with. This was a very different person, in every sense of those words. 

Rintarō doesn’t curse at you, or around you, really. Anyone who knows him, knows he can have a foul mouth. But, he tries to be better for you.

Rintarō matured a lot, over the course of the two years that you both dated, and even the year that you both new one another, before you started dating.

Yeah, that follow from Kuroo, a couple of chapters ago? That’ll be coming into play soon 😊

Well, I hope you guys are enjoying! Sorry I didn’t post yesterday or today. It honestly slipped my mind! So I hope you’re ready for a multitude of chapters, soon! 😅

You guys better be getting something to eat, drinking some water, and taking care of yourselves mentally and physically! Remember, I’m proud of you, no matter what, and I love you! You’re doing great, love! Keep it up! 🤍

Taglist:

@kookie-doughs @halesandy @ermahgerd-larry-and-ziam @kac-chowsballs @saltylettuce @its-the-aerieljeane @javj @ash-levi @babyshoyo @hiraeth-z @random-fandom-girl-24 @kodzuklutz @tsukkiswifeey

[seriouslyhooked]

The Best Bad Idea

Three-part CS AU where Emma and Killian are doctors working at the same hospital (world without pandemic). They’ve yet to meet, but Emma has definitely seen the sexy Dr. Jones in her travels at Mist Haven Medical. It’s generally a bad idea to get involved with a colleague, but a little fantasizing never hurt… right? Inspired by the song ‘Bad Idea’ by Ariana Grande and a TV couple who set the bar for true love stories. 

Available on FF Here and AO3 Here. 

A/N: Hey all! Here is a little something I made instead of being a responsible writer and finishing my other projects. I’ll be back to my other WIPs soon (God willing), but in the meantime here’s my 1000th attempt at writing a Captain Swan meet cute. I needed to get some words on the page, and this is the result. Hope you all enjoy, and thanks for reading!

Thump, thump. Thump, thump. Thump, thump. Thump, Thump. Steady, sure, and even. A solid pulsing sound with no inconsistencies and no delays or false starts.

In this particular patient, that fourth set of beats was the most important. Prior to his recent operation, Earl MacDonald’s heart had been weak and skipping needed pulses, then constricting far too harshly on every fourth measure. That type of arrhythmia had potentially disastrous consequences, but those worrying beats were seemingly behind them. The rhythm Emma heard through the stethoscope was a regularly circulating drumline, the tell-tale song of a heart that was working, and working well. Her surgical intervention had been successful.

She gently released the breath she was holding, a sign of the stress that she carried while waiting for patients to recuperate. Emma never let the patients see her sweat, but she had been worried on multiple levels in this case. Earl was going on 80, and not a logical contender for intensive cardiac mediation, but Emma’s gut had told her he could handle it, and she was rarely ever wrong. Earl forged through the surgery like a much younger man, and his outputs post-operation had all been extremely encouraging. It was shaping up to be another win, another life saved thanks to the power of medicine, and that filled Emma with real joy. She always did her absolute best to create good outcomes, and this time there was so much more on the line than one life. This was a man who was loved and cherished by the people closest to him, and who would be sorely missed if something were to happen.

“Anything you want me to note for the chart, Doctor Swan?” 

Emma bit back a witty retort at the pointed use of the word ‘Doctor.’ She was one of the few surgeons in this hospital who didn’t care what people called her, as long as they called on her early enough to actually save the patient’s life. But with Belle, a person Emma considered a dear and true friend, there was an added lilt of sass when using her title. Her friend was one of the nurse practitioners that Emma had been working with for years, since the day she landed here as a medical intern, but despite their differences in degrees, Belle was easily the most well-read and brilliant resource when it came to medical literature in this hospital.

“Just that Mr. MacDonald is healing nicely.”

“Did you hear that Lorraine?” Earl asked, with a Cheshire cat smile on his face, and the glint of true pride in his eyes. “Doctor Emma says I’m healing nicely.”

“Hard not to hear, seeing as I’m right beside you,” Loraine quipped, but she squeezed his hand affectionately, and offered a warm smile to her husband all the same.

“You know, usually being dubbed ‘nice’ is the kiss of death for a man.”

“Earl!” Loraine chastised, clearly not liking his word choice. Earl smiled wider, looking almost boyish in his delight.

“Well, so to speak. But I was going to say that I think we can make an exception this time. I’ve never been so happy to be referred to as ‘nice’ in my life.”

“Technically Doctor Swan was referring to your vital signs, Earl,” Belle taunted from across the room, holding back a smile Emma knew she was bound to let loose soon enough.

“Aw come on, you both know I am your favorite patient. I mean I’m not exactly pressed for competition. Have you seen the people on this floor? Good grief.”

“Ignore him, ladies. He’s all talk. He hasn’t left this room since we got here,” Loraine said, rolling her eyes, as if these antics were a constant occurrence. Based on her small window of experience with Earl, Emma would believe it. “Every meal, every visit, every moment has been within these four walls. Even his PT has been in here.”

“His PT has been here?” Emma asked, surprised that Mary Margaret, their head Occupational Therapist, had allowed for that. She was normally a by-the-book professional, and Emma never knew her friend to provide rehab consults outside of her studio.

“Yup. I told Miss Mary Margaret that I had a wife to keep an eye on and she relented.”

“No, actually what you said was, ‘Excuse me, Ms. Blanchard? You probably heard I just had heart surgery. Well, the thing is, my heart is sitting in this room. I’d like to be with her. Doesn’t seem right to be separated so soon, given what we’ve been through.’ Then you pointed at me, and used your puppy dog eyes on her. Next thing I knew, she had lugged enough equipment to fill the room here. No questions, just action.”

“I bet she ate that right up,” Belle said with a wink. “Mary Margaret loves nothing more than love itself.”

Belle and Mrs. MacDonald discussed Mary Margaret’s love of love, and Earl’s improved mobility, for a few more minutes while Emma continued checking his stats, but ultimately Earl’s patience was wearing thin. He really only had one thing on his mind, and he was now determined to ask about it. Emma was honestly shocked that he managed to wait this long. She knew it was only a matter of time and she was ready for the showdown.

“So, what do you think, Doc? Am I making it home in time for the party?”

“The one for your grandson on Sunday?” she asked, noting the three-day window between now and then. She had heard about this party non-stop, since the moment Earl woke up from the procedure. It was a central fixation for the old man, a celebration that would host his entire family, and a goal he had been carrying for over a week. Earl nodded and Emma hesitated for a few seconds, before smiling and giving the good news away. “Yes, I am confident that Jayden’s ‘Pop Pops’ will be in attendance when he turns four. But you know the rules…”

“I know, I know: no good food, no strenuous exercise, no having fun.”

“Earl.” Just the utterance of the old man’s name from his wife was enough to have him looking like a kid with his hand caught in the candy jar. Emma and Belle both chuckled at that child-like expression. It was hard not to; the old married couple was just too sweet.

“I’m sorry. I know this is serious, but what is life if you can’t have a little fun?”

“Fun comes in all shapes and sizes, Mr. MacDonald, and despite what you may think about your prescribed lifestyle changes, you’re forgetting two things. First, most of these less-alluring prescriptions will be temporary, and second, you’re a man who clearly loves a challenge.”

“Oh yeah? And how do you know that, Doc?” 

“Well for one thing, you somehow landed a lady as remarkable as Loraine. There’s no way she came easy with these corny jokes of yours. You must have worked harder than you ever worked in your life to persuade her to give you a chance.”

The laughter from the older couple was boisterous and heartwarming, and Emma knew she was right on the money. At this point, she had the ability to sniff out true affection, and these two had it in spades. Many couples she saw facing emergency room disasters together didn’t have the same good luck.

“You got that right, Doc. You know the first time we met was at the -,”

Earl’s story was unceremoniously interrupted by the crackling of the PA system specific to this room. It buzzed for a few moments before a message was delivered in a saccharine sweet voice that sounded nothing like the announcer’s normal tone.

“Paging Doctor Swan to the Nurse’s station. Doctor Swan to the Nurse’s station, code 741.”

Emma waited for the feed to cut off and began to tell Earl to please go on with the story, but the call came out again.

“Paging Doctor Swan to the Nurse’s station. Doctor Swan, code 741.”

“You know she’s just going to keep doing that until she gets her way,” Belle murmured. Emma nodded. It was no use. What Ruby Lucas wanted, Ruby Lucas got. That just seemed to be the way of the world.

“Belle, would you mind telling Ruby I’m with a patient at the moment? I will be there when I can. She can always proceed without me.”

Belle snorted out a laugh, knowing that last part would never happen, but gave a swift affirmation that she would relay the message before waving goodbye to the MacDonald’s and promising to see them soon. As her friend headed out, Emma sighed, knowing there was no way Ruby was going to give things up that easily. She had a matter of moments before some new tactic would be deployed.

“I’m sorry about that. You were saying?”

“Eh it’s kind of a long story, and you’ve got places to be, Doc. Just know, true love won out in the end with me and my Loraine. It always does.”

Emma couldn’t deny that their love appeared true even after their fifty plus years together. She personally had never experienced a love like that, but she was wondering more and more if maybe it was out there, somewhere in the later chapters of her story. For years she thought herself above that kind of need. She found validation in herself and in her work. She dedicated herself to helping others, and that had always been enough. But the loneliness that became a constant when she was growing up in foster care still lingered, and she wondered if someone might ever come along who could inspire her to take a chance and risk her heart.

“You know, I actually worked as a nurse before my kids were born,” Loraine commented easily. Emma nodded and smiled as she checked the last of Mr. MacDonald’s IV drips. Emma was aware of the older woman’s solid medical understanding. Loraine had continued to demonstrate it the entire time her husband was admitted in this ward. “I’m trying to remember if I ever ran into a code 741.”

“Oh, uh, I think – well, erm, I mean you probably didn’t,” Emma said, hoping she didn’t turn beet red at the passing comment from the older woman. She was already stuttering, which was completely out of character and eighty shades of embarrassing. Loraine’s words feigned ignorance, but her eyes told a different story. Still Emma tried to play it off. “It’s really not a big deal. Just a non-emergent protocol.”

Another alert sounded, but this time it came through the ceiling unit reserved for announcements to the wider reaches of the hospital. “Attention to all surgical ward personnel. We are paging Doctor Swan to the nurse’s station. Doctor Swan, you are needed at the nurse’s station immediately for a code 741.” The talking stopped, but the air crackled signaling that the line was still live. “Immediately.”

“Sounds pretty urgent to me,” Loraine replied. The curiosity in her gaze told Emma that the older woman was onto them, but it was Earl’s comment that cut too close for comfort.

“When I was in the war, all of our numeric codes corresponded to letters. So 7 was H, 4 was D, 1 was A. H – D – A. HDA, now what could that be….?” Uh oh. Now Emma really had to get out of here before she accidentally admitted Ruby’s code’s meaning – Hot Doctor Alert. That would be the cherry on top of a full-blown mortification sundae.

“All righty, well like I told Belle, all your scans look good. Doctor Whale is on shift this evening during the next series of rounds, so I’ll make sure your file is ready for him.”

“Of course, dear, and good luck with your doctor, er – I mean – code.”

Emma stammered out something like an ‘okay thanks,’ while leaving. She tried to get her bearings once she was out of sight of the room, but she had nowhere to go. Everyone on this floor had just heard her page, and there were bound to be at least a few who understood the meaning. She was so embarrassed, and more than a little ticked at Ruby. She was supposed to be her best friend, but she was always pulling these crazy stunts. They were mostly harmless, but for Emma, who hated being the subject of hospital gossip, it was anxiety inducing to say the least.

“Please tell me that you did not just broadcast that to the entire hospital,” Emma said, arriving at the nurse’s station with a sense of urgency, and watching some of the other nurses scurry off to avoid the confrontation. Ruby, however, was unfazed. Actually, the nurse manager just rolled her eyes, grabbing her bag and phone from her cubby, as if Emma was the one who was annoying and not the other way around.

“And here I was thinking we were the best of friends. Soul sisters, kindred spirits, friends for life. But no, ye of little faith, you actually believe I would broadcast the hot doc alert to all of Mist Haven? What kind of friend would do that?”

“But if you didn’t… then how did you…?” Emma’s questions trailed off, but her arms flailed towards the ceiling and the look on her face spoke for itself – how had Ruby used the hospital wide PA system without actually broadcasting to the entire hospital?

“You know Tink up in nuero?” Emma nodded, well acquainted with the nurse manager who had Ruby’s job on the fifth floor but with a specialization of the brain and nervous system. She was a tiny woman, but she ruled that ward with more than capable hands. “She and I bribed the IT guys to make the nurse managers an override. Now we can circumvent the PA software whenever we want. Bring some of you more stubborn Doctors to heal when it comes to answering our pages.”

“That’s… well, actually that’s genius,” Emma admitted.

“I like to think so,” Ruby teased, offering a genuine smile. The two friends laughed at all of this, and Emma felt so much better knowing that their secret was still relatively secure. The last thing she wanted was everyone knowing how she was spending her lunch breaks these days.  

“Gus, you’re holding down the fort while I’m gone, right?” Ruby asked, her smile turning slightly wicked with the purposeful jest aimed at the new nursing aid sitting behind the desk.

“Me?” The new hire replied, suddenly white as a sheet. Emma had never seen the man so stricken, and as a new nurse he had plenty of high-stress moments to look alarmed during. “I – uh – well – I -,”

“It’s called comedic relief, Gus. Commonly referred to as joking. Do me a favor, learn about it by the end of shift, kay?” Ruby pivoted to the person she actually trusted to man the fort. “Thirty minutes work for you, Belle?”

“I’ve got it handled.”

“Excellent. We’ll return with a full report,” Ruby said, grabbing Emma’s arm and moving them down the hallway before Emma could even say goodbye. “Newbies – can’t live with them, can’t pawn off scut work without them.”

“You are terrible. And yet… the look on his face just now…? Priceless,” Emma acquiesced. “But seriously, Ruby, can we PLEASE find another way to page me for this? My patients are not stupid, and the code isn’t exactly original. It’s kind of…” Ruby’s grin was so big that it stopped Emma in her tracks. She was currently trying to hold her friend to account, but Ruby looked like she’d won the lottery. “What?”

“You are so totally into him! I mean listen to you right now.”

“I didn’t say anything!” Emma said, feeling her cheeks flush against her will. 

“Exactly,” Ruby said. “You’re telling me to be more discreet when I send the bat signal, but you still want me to send it. Do you realize how unlike you that is?”

“Despite what you may think, Ruby. I’m a doctor, I’m not dead. I can appreciate a hot guy now and again.”

“Doubtful. Remember last month when all those pro hockey players were here after Ocheski collapsed on the ice? You had a room full of crazy sexy men. Like virile, hot, muscled men who get paid big money to beat each other up on the ice. Most women would die for that chance, and to make it even better, most of them were hitting on you. And what did you do? Nothing. You didn’t even blink.”

“They were not hitting on me,” Emma affirmed, but the words were hollow. They had been trying to flirt with her. A few had even attempted to get her number.

“They were hitting on you,” Ruby said adamantly.  

“He was a patient, and the rest of them were essentially his family. You know I’d never cross that line. Doesn’t count.”

“Fine, then what about Dr. King? When he came for that conjoined twins case last year, you had no interest. Zero. Zilch.”

“King was an asshole, you know that,” Emma said, belatedly catching her use of profanity and checking that no patients were around. Luckily the coast was clear.

“So? You didn’t have to marry the guy. Hot is hot, honey. That’s just how things are.” 

Emma barked out a laugh at even the thought of marrying someone like that. Arthur King was just about the worst person she could fathom to spend a life with. He was narcissistic and carrying around one of the biggest god-complexes she’d ever seen, and she was a surgeon, so she was an expert on god-complexes. 

“Your face really says it all, Emma. I mean honestly, poker would be a terrible game for you to take up. Your contempt for King is obvious, but, meanwhile, as soon as I mention Doctor Jones… aha! See, totally shifted.”

Emma didn’t know what to say to that. She could try and protest, but her friend knew her too well for that. The best thing to do was say nothing, and she was saved by their arrival at their destination. The coffee cart in the center of the action, near the entrance of Mist Haven. Here was where the wards crossed paths. Her surgical wing met up with the specialties departments, the ER, the community clinic, and more. It was also swarmed with both hospital workers and visitors. Typically, this was the last place she wanted to be, but recently it had become a highlight of her day.

“Emma? Ruby? What’s brought you out here?” a voice asked. It was Mary Margaret, and given her street clothes and jacket, Emma would guess she was just starting her shift.

“Haven’t you heard? There’s fresh meat from the ER. Two showings a day, but we favor the afternoon delight.”

“Oh right,” Mary Margaret said, nodding, like Ruby’s words were totally normal, and for Ruby they were. “I heard about the new ER Chief. Doctor Nolan? I meant to get down there and bring him something to welcome him, but I’ve been so swamped this week. My caseload is crazy at the moment. I hope he won’t think too badly of me for being a bit late.”

“Mary Margaret, literally no one in a hospital brings people cupcakes as a welcome gift, especially not new guys in other departments.” Ruby was not wrong. Hospitals were hardly the most happy-go-lucky of places. At least not usually. “Believe me, the man will be grateful whenever they come. If he even eats them. He’s fit – like fit, fit. Keto diet and a personal trainer fit. The kind of fit that makes you -,”

“Careful, Ruby,” Emma teased. “What if Graham heard you saying that?”

“God, I wish. You know how worked up he gets, and how he works out his frustrations.” Ruby’s tone was dripping in suggestion. “It’s one of the many reasons I live to drive him crazy.”

Emma and Mary Margaret laughed at Ruby’s apt assessment of her relationship with her boyfriend. Ruby had been dating the fireman for almost a year now, since he came in on one of the ambulance bays with a victim he’d rescued from a fire, but Ruby was hardly the predictable type, and Graham seemed to love that about her. They were still going strong despite her willful, wild child nature, and Emma suspected they may be built to last.

“Doctor Nolan must really be something to get you out here, Emma,” Mary Margaret said, moving forward in the line, inching ever closer to the mediocre coffee the cart promised.  

“Ha! Hardly. Emma’s not here for Nolan. She’s here for Jones.”

“Jones?” Mary Margaret asked.

“Girl, where have you been? Doctor Killian Jones, trauma surgeon extraordinaire. Chief Mills brought him here for a ‘collaboration’ with the ER, but she’s totally trying to recruit him for head of his own department. Turns out he and David Nolan are old friends. Same medical school maybe? I don’t know, no one’s gotten me those details yet. Anyway, Regina hardly leaves him alone. She only misses this little window because she’s hooking up with Doctor Locksley in the supply room on the 2nd floor.”

“She’s WHAT?!” Emma and Mary Margaret yelled at the same time and Ruby looked aghast for the first time today. Some other hospital staff in the area glanced over, but no one paid much mind beyond a head nod. Everyone was absorbed in their own need for caffeine, and no one was the wiser of the bombshell Ruby had just dropped.

“Oh shoot, I wasn’t supposed to say that. I promised Ella, damn it!”

“Ella, her assistant? I thought she quit,” Mary Margaret stage whispered.

“Oh she did. Made it a whole two months, which, you know, makes sense given the fact that Regina is a nightmare. But the last week she was here, she learned a crucial secret regarding her Majesty. She spilled last week at The White Rabbit, but I promised her I wouldn’t tell until she’s settled at her new job at GMH. So you did not hear this from me, and I did not hear this from her, capische?”

“I can’t believe the Evil Queen is dating someone,” Mary Margaret said, deeply disturbed by the idea. She shuddered at the thought, and this was someone who loved love. But love and Regina Mills didn’t really feel like concepts that belonged in the same sentence. Scratch that, they didn’t really even belong in the same book. “She’s just so…”

“Evil?” Emma responded. The nickname worked for a reason, after all. The hospital Chief was downright tyrannical.

“Exactly.”

“Well dating is a stretch. She’s screwing someone. But then again, who knows. Ella said she actually saw her smiling in those final days. And not that evil one she’s famous for. Like a real, genuine, I have a heart, smile.”

“No way,” Emma said at the same time Mary Margaret murmured, “Well would you look at that.”

“Don’t worry. I’m on the case. The temp is a totally easy mark – Sydney something. I’m buying him lunch tomorrow. I’ll have the whole story before you know it.”

“Won’t Graham be proud,” Emma chuckled, but her joke fell on deaf ears as something caught Ruby’s attention across the way. Her friend’s countenance changed immediately, putting Emma on alert.

“Ooh, they’re coming! Act normal.”

Normally, Emma would have laughed at that command, but she was too busy feeling the spike of adrenaline at the impending arrival of one Doctor Killian Jones. He really was a world-renowned trauma surgeon, who was working on a number of cutting-edge techniques that saved lives and gave critical care patients better chances to recover. She had actually heard of him a few years ago when reading about a new procedure to treat arrhythmia in patients with traumatic injury. He engineered it in the field, while serving in the British naval forces, and his paper had been circulating in cardiac wings around the country, but she never saw the man before last week when he arrived in Boston.  Suffice it to say she could not have imagined that this marvel of modern medicine would also be so roguishly handsome.

Spotting him today across the great hall, Emma was struck again by just how attractive this man was. She couldn’t even comprehend it really. All she knew was that she had yet to find a fault in him. Every day she’d stolen secret glances, and every time he proved better than her memory. It was crazy, and very reminiscent of schoolgirl crushes and teenage day dreams, but she couldn’t help the way she felt. It was intoxicating, and despite her best efforts, she was powerless to turn Ruby’s invites to the show down when she could witness this each and every day.

The first thing that she’d noticed about him was his general presence. His posture was strong and straight and assured. He looked ready for anything, but somehow laid back, like he was totally in control. People naturally parted when he walked by, as if he silently willed the flow of the hospital traffic. Ruby called it swagger. Emma called it… well something not quite safe for work. Couple that general aura of authority with the classically gorgeous features of his face, and Emma was lost. On that first day (and okay, maybe on the others as well), she actually felt her knees get weak. She always thought that was a bogus cliché, but nope, it was real, and she was the proof of it. From there she was hooked, and over time she’d chronicled more and more things to like about him.

Yesterday it had been his hair. As she watched him across the atrium, she noticed that the shade shone bright in the sun, but that it was nearer to midnight than any color brown. It was slightly longer than most of the other male doctors wore theirs, but not so long that it looked unkempt or unprofessional, at least not yet. She knew for a fact that the military never would allow for such a style, and it felt like a bit of rebellion, or maybe a lack of care for what others thought. Both sent a delicious thrill through Emma, even though she had no real confirmation one way or another. Maybe he was just lazy, but that wasn’t how she imagined him…

And oh boy did she imagine him. At first she hadn’t meant to. She just had these flashbacks to seeing him that she carried through the day. These visceral visions always started the same: he would walk by, looking downright delicious and impossible to resist, then he would turn his eyes her way here in the middle of the hospital hustle and bustle. She’d feel caught in his stare, sense the hunger even from the distance, and her heart would quicken to a maddening crescendo as he walked her way. The rest of the world would fade from view, and it would feel like they were the only two people alive. Her gaze would stay transfixed on his almost cocky composure and the hard line of his bearded jaw. The attraction in his blue eyes would light a fire in her, and then, without so much as a word like ‘hello’ or ‘nice to meet you,’ he’d pull her into his embrace and kiss her senseless. She could practically taste him on her tongue, and yet she’d never even heard him speak. People who had, who were later interrogated by Ruby, mentioned that he had an accent. British or Irish, or something along those lines. That tidbit had played oh so sweetly in Emma’s mind this week. God, she’d love to hear him say her name -,

“Emma,” a voice beside her said, but it didn’t pull her out of the fog. “Oh my God, Emma, he’s looking right at you.”

“He’s what?” Emma said, blinking back to reality before finding that Doctor Jones was looking this way. She’d been so busy fantasizing, she stopped paying attention to what was right in front of her.

In the middle of the room, the man who had intrigued her for over a week was standing totally still, disregarding the swarm of people on all sides. His entire attention had shifted from the task ahead of him, and he was looking at her, staring with a blend of intrigue and something Emma couldn’t describe. Doctor Nolan had stopped as well, but he was clearly confused as to the delay. He seemed to ask his friend what was wrong, and Emma watched spell bound, as the lips she’d envisioned kissing her moved in some kind of unheard reply. She couldn’t make out his words, but she shivered at the passion and determination etched across his being. David then looked their way, and Emma knew that Doctor Jones – Killian - had asked about them. No, forget that, he had asked about her. He was looking right at her, and that spark of heat and desire she’d always imagined was nowhere near as tantalizing as the real thing. He was looking at her with the same hunger she’d reserved for her wildest imaginings. Holy crap, what was she going to do?

“Ruby?” she asked, her voice squeaked out in alarm. She tore her gaze from the approaching object of her desire and looked to her best friend with overt confusion and mild panic.

“Took him long enough to spot you. It’s been almost a week. I thought I was going to have to hire a marching band or one of those giant arrow guys they have at outlet malls.”

Emma didn’t understand, and then it dawned on her – her friend had planned this. Emma looked at Mary Margaret, but she was still staring in the distance. Only when Emma followed her gaze did she realize that Mary Margaret wasn’t looking at Killian. She was looking at David.

“Hey, ladies, you looking to order, or what? I ain’t got all day!”

The three of them jumped at the barista’s interruption and Mary Margaret surged ahead to the line. She rattled off an order, giving way too much money to the attendant while grabbing her cup with shaky hands. Then she looked at David and back to Emma with an expression that said Mary Margaret may just bolt. Ok, what the actual hell was going on?

Before she could begin to answer that internal question, Doctor Jones and Doctor Nolan were within ear shot. Emma wracked her brain for something to say when they finally got here, but was spared when David broke the ice.

“Doctor Swan,” he said with a head nod and a polite smile. They knew each other peripherally at this point. Emma had consulted on numerous ER cases since Doctor Nolan started his new position. But she wouldn’t call them friends. They were very much acquaintances. “I heard Earl MacDonald is recovering nicely. He most definitely has you to thank for that.”

“And you too,” she said, offering credit where it was due. “A quick diagnosis makes all the difference. I’ve noticed the ER is filled with them since you started.”

“That’s kind of you. I don’t believe you’ve met my friend, Doctor Jones.”

“Killian,” Doctor Jones said immediately, before offering a heart stopping smile of his own. Emma had yet to see the man smile, and her heart skipped a beat, the rhythm of her pulse skittering in an almost blissful way. “A pleasure to meet you, Swan.”

He offered his hand to her, and Emma took it, shaking in greeting even though it was uncommon for doctors or nursing staff to do so. Chief Mills stressed that germ management was a top priority at Mist Haven, and she’d come as close to banning the practice as was legal in the state of Massachusetts. Usually Emma didn’t mind, but germs were the farthest thing from her radar when their fingers touched. Instead, Emma was filled with the zapping sense of promise and a thrill of warmth that made her head swim.

“Emma,” she whispered. A beat passed between them, and Emma lost herself for too long. Only the clearing of a throat beside them brought her back to the moment. She let go of his hand, but tracked the slight disappointment on his face when she did. It filled her with a rush of something long forgotten. A sense of peace and elation she hadn’t tasted in years. “Um these are my friends, Ruby Lucas and Mary Margaret Blanchard. Ruby’s the head nurse in the cardiac unit. And Mary Margaret runs OT for the surgical division.”

Emma tore her gaze from Killian, watching her friends make their greetings. Ruby handled her own completely, and Mary Margaret seemed to have gathered her courage, but now it was David who looked shocked and spell bound. Everyone appeared to be thrown off kilter, and it was only Ruby in control of herself. To say her friend was positively delighted with these new developments would be an understatement. That glee rang out clear as day in her invite to both the attending doctors.

“So… Doctor Nolan, Doctor Jones, any way we could convince you to join us? The coffee’s just all right, but the company’s not half bad.”

Both men agreed immediately, and Emma fought her hardest not to blush. It was hard though, and her pulse was racing in the face of this development. Killian came to stand by her, the space between them so small but still too much to bear. She tried to get her bearings as the cranky barista handed her a latte. She struggled to think of something – anything – to say, but she was tongue tied. Instead, she looked at Killian, finding an openness in his expression that said he felt the same exact way. That gave her comfort and removed some of the tension from the moment.

“The hospital’s been buzzing since you got here,” Emma offered, waiting with him while he ordered a no nonsense coffee of his own. “A lot of people are hoping you’ll stay on past the month.”

“And you, love? Have you such hopes?” his words were earnest but laced with an almost cocky easiness that sent Emma’s mind humming in delight. Still, she played it cool. At least she hoped she did.

“Jury’s still out,” she replied, smiling when he looked a little crestfallen. “Well can you blame me? I hardly even know you. Still haven’t seen what you’re capable of.”

“Only a matter of time, Swan. You can trust in that.”

His words may seem benign, but they were loaded with hidden meaning, and Emma knew he meant each one. She swallowed harshly, thinking of the things he might be capable of. Damn, was it hot in here? Or was it just the devil on her shoulder spinning another one of those dirty dreams of hers?

When they’d all gotten a coffee, the five of them moved off to the patio just outside, reserved for hospital staff. The grounds were manicured beautifully, maintaining an oasis that seemed totally disconnected from the hectic nature of the hospital. This was one of Emma’s favorite places here, and she was surprised to hear that neither David nor Killian had been here yet. They all spent a few minutes making non-threatening small talk, with mostly Ruby moving the conversations along. But despite the fluttering feeling she was grappling with, Emma couldn’t say she hated this building anticipation. In fact, she couldn’t remember the last time she had enjoyed herself so much. She was seated next to Killian, fully aware that all of his attention was devoted to her, and she reveled in it. At one point, while the others were talking about something with the OT department, Killian whispered to her and her alone.

“This might be presumptuous of me, love, but I find I’m helpless to resist. I was wondering – that is, I was hoping that perhaps, you and I, we could…” His eyes looked from hers down to her lips, and Emma wet them absentmindedly. She heard a low growl, and realized it was coming from him. She shifted in her seat, turned on in a way she had never been before. Instinctively she moved closer, sensing the sinfully sweet current between them, like lightning just before it cracked across the summer sky.

“We could…” she continued, hoping he would elaborate and put into words what she herself was wishing for.

“That we could -,”

“Paging all staff to the ER. All staff to the ER for an incoming trauma, category 4.”

This time the PA was most definitely broadcasting a hospital wide announcement, and the irony wasn’t lost on Emma. Ruby looked positively forlorn at the interruption, but it was somewhat poetic after how they’d gotten here.

“Category four,” David repeated, standing immediately, prompting all of them to do the same. “We haven’t had a four since I started. We’re gonna need all hands on deck. Killian?”

“Aye, mate. I’m with you.” He looked back to Emma, and only had time for the swiftest goodbye. “Until next time, love.”

Emma and her friends watched them go, running towards the ER. Belatedly, they realized that if a trauma of that magnitude was coming into the hospital, there were bound to be surgical cases flooding their ward soon enough. They hustled back to their wing, focused once more on their jobs and the lives on the line that they were sworn to help heal and make better. But Emma still carried that moment with her for the rest of the day, and when the shift was over and done, and she’d done all she could to help the people in her care, she was left wondering what exactly Doctor Jones was hoping to ask, and when, oh when, he may try to do so again.

Post-Note: So there we have it. This was originally going to be a oneshot for my CS mixtape series, but alas, the muse wants what she wants, and this time that’s a three part mini-story for all of us to share. Hope that you guys have enjoyed so far and I would love to hear what you think! As always, thanks so much for reading, and I hope you are all staying well in this crazy time! xE

[raysofcrosby]

CHANCES – M. TKACHUK

requested: yes | no

warning(s): none that i can think of.

word count: 5,066

listened to: chances by the backstreet boys

inspiration: mixed luggage au [ i can’t find the og au-prompt masterlist, but if this is your au idea, lemme know and i’ll link you for credit (: ]

authors note: listen– i don’t know what it is, but i’ve literally been on a tkachuk thing lately. like, i used to despise this little curly-headed gremlin, but now??? it’s all hearteyes motherfucker. this is purely a writing to help me get back into the writing groove again after these last six months of nothing– so i might be a lil rusty. anyway, i hope you enjoy <3333

part two | google doc w/ all parts | my masterlist | stuff i have planned | who i’ll write for | requests

I’m sorry Y/N, but if you’re not here in the next 5 minutes I need to keep going.

That text haunted you– it was all you could think about the moment you got off of your flight. The uber your sister had ordered for you was close to canceling– all because there were too many planes taxiing on the airstrip and your stupid flight ended up circling in the air for thirty minutes. If this were any other airport, no doubt you’d be screwed. Luckily though, you knew good ole St. Louis Lambert International like the back of your hand. So getting from point A to point luggage claim would be no problem at all. The only delay would be the luggage getting put out onto the carousel.

Which of course, did prove to be the problem at hand.

You were the first one from your flight at the carousel and hoped to be gone before any disgruntled passengers you managed to bump into, could show up. Unfortunately for you, just as the bags were being loaded onto the carousel, your fellow passengers were arriving too– more than a few giving you a look that would normally result in you rolling your eyes in response. Yet, your focus wasn’t on them, it was glued to the small carousel door, keeping an eye out for your suitcase.

Teal bag with a grey handle. Teal bag with a grey handle. Teal bag with a grey handle. Teal bag with a grey hand–

“Ah-ha!” You smiled, catching eye of your suitcase and rushing to meet it instead of letting it eventually make its way to you. You grabbed the suitcase and extended the handle to drag it away, already walking towards the exit.

One minute.

You had one minute to catch your uber before they left you and you hoped and prayed that luck was on your side and the black Toyota Corolla just happened to be parked near the door you chose to exit from. The warm summer air of the Missouri summer weather practically smacked you in the face and it fit wasn’t for the awning covering the pick-up zone, you would have no doubt been blinded by the sun too.

“Oh, thank God,” you sighed, catching sight of a black Toyota Corolla that your sister said to find, parked just six cars down to your left. You sped walked to the uber, coming to a stop at the window and waving at the driver, catching her attention. “I’m so, so sorry I’m late.”

The woman, probably in her early 60’s gave you a friendly smile instead of the scowl you were expecting. “Are you Y/N?”

“Yes ma’am,” you replied, nodding.

“Go ahead and put your suitcase in the trunk, it’s opened for you.”

You walked to the trunk and lifted it open, placing your suitcase inside before closing it and walking to the back passenger door, getting into the backseat. “Again, I’m so sorry for making you wait. We had to circle in the air for 30 minutes because of the traffic on the airstrip and,” you exhaled, relaxing back into your seat. “I’m so sorry.”

She laughed, pulling away from the airport. “It’s no problem sweetheart. I saw your reply. I was going to give you a little extra time. I know how hectic airports could be. Especially this time of the year. Everyone’s traveling for vacation.”

“Yeah, I think I might have accidentally elbowed one too many people trying to get to luggage claim.”

“Are you visiting or coming home?”

“Coming home…kind of,” you laughed, staring out the window at your hometown. “I actually just graduated from college a few weeks ago, so my roommates and I rented a house on the Jersey Shore to celebrate. But, my sister is getting married tomorrow, so that’s why I’m back.” You looked back towards her, laughing softly to yourself. “But then come September, I’ll actually be moving to Calgary for a new job and to get my Masters.”

“So a lot of traveling, I see.”

You took a deep breath and sighed, nodding. “Yeah, but I’m glad to be able to spend all of this time with my friends and family before I start working. Especially since I’ll be moving so far away.”

“It sounds like a great time,” she smiled, looking at me through the rearview mirror. “I’m a sucker for weddings, why don’t you tell me about it?”

Normally, you weren’t one to talk a lot whenever you and your friends would take Ubers downtown on the weekends– but this driver was sweet and you found yourself talking nonstop as she drove you towards your final destination. After all, she didn’t abandon you at the airport like you thought she would.

~

The car ride to your parents' place went by a lot faster than you thought it would and it was all thanks to Mrs. Sheila, your lovely uber driver. Whom, you learned, started driving after she lost her husband late last year. Her kids lived out of state and once they went back home after those first few weeks, she wanted to find something to do to keep herself busy and get herself out of the house– so, she became an uber driver.

Walking into your parents' house, you were greeted with empty echos of your footsteps. Your parents were still at work and wouldn’t be home until just a little before the rehearsal dinner tonight. Your brother, well, as far as you knew, he had absolutely nothing going on, so you didn’t know why he wasn’t around. If anyone was guaranteed to be home, it was your sister. She was the one who ordered your uber and had them take you here, so she was more than well aware of what time you’d be arriving home.

“Hello?” You called out, leaving your suitcase by the door and making your way to the living room. “Char, are you here?”

“Is that my favorite sister?” You heard her voice call out from upstairs. Looking up, you could see her rounding the hallway corner, carrying a closed laundry basket full of, no doubt, stuff for tonight’s bridal party sleepover.

“I’m your only sister,” you laughed as she made her way down the staircase.

“Unless you count all of the times we got bored and turned Nick into Nikki,” she giggled, reaching the end of the staircase and putting the basket down before stepping forward and hugging you. “How was the flight?”

“It was great up until our 30 minutes of circling in the air,” you laughed, pulling away from the hug. “Where’s my dear brother?”

“Working out with some friends. We probably won’t see him until tonight.”

“Nothing says welcome home like being greeted to an empty house.”

“Excuse you, I was here to greet you.” She laughed, picking the basket back up. “But if you really want to be upset, you should see all of the packed boxes in your room.”

“I leave in three months! Why are they packing me up now?” You gasped, acting dramatically.

“Nick and dad are planning on transforming it into some kind of training room or something.”

“But they–“

“Already took over the garage? Yeah, I know and mom is pissed.”

You rolled your eyes, grabbing the handle of your suitcase again. “He literally told the Blues that he was going back to Michigan in the fall to try and win a championship. Why the hell are they even treating him like he’s already a hall of famer?”

“Perks of being the youngest, not to mention dad’s only son,” she laughed, looking at the door. “Ready to head to the Airbnb?”

“Can we get food first?” You asked, dragging your suitcase along. “I’m starving.”

She laughed as you held the door open for her. “Good, because we’re most definitely getting food before we go and take a nap.”

You laughed, walking out of the house with her and then closing and locking the door behind you. “I knew we were related.”

~

Lunch and a nap turned out to be exactly what you needed. The two of you had stopped at a subway to get some food before driving over to the Airbnb that you, your sister and the rest of the bridesmaids would be staying for the night.

It was a beautiful three-bedroom, modernized cottage that looked like it was stripped directly from the pages of a fairytale book. It was tucked away, just off to the side in the backyard of a beautiful colonial house, whose farm would tomorrow be transformed into a whimsical fairytale wedding location. The men would be getting ready in the house, while the women would be getting ready in the cute cottage. Sort of like a secret getaway paradise before the wedding.

When you got back with your food, your sister took you on a tour of the property while the wedding planners and staff were setting up all of the bigger decorations for tomorrow. You were off at school during the entire planning process, only ever seeing every one of her ideas in pictures. The only things you were able to take part in, were the dress shopping and her bachelorette party since they were both held at a time you were on a fall break from school. Besides being there for those two things, the only other thing you helped with– was the proposal.

Colton has been in your life for as long as you could remember. He and Charlotte have been best friends since Pre-K. It was the cliché friends to lovers kind of story that was told time after time– but in theirs, there were no other people in it. It was just them. There were no other boyfriends or girlfriends, no other crushes– from the very beginning, they were it for each other. They were each other's first everything– kiss, date, girlfriend/boyfriend, time– in their love story, they had found their one great love…all before they turned five.

Wherever Charlotte was, there was Colton– they were stuck like glue and your parents loved it. It was their friendship that brought both of your families together to the relationship that you all had now. Your families were best friends, all because of their relationship. You often took vacations together, spent holidays together, hell, you and Colton’s middle brother, Mason, even had joint birthday parties– as did your two younger siblings, Nick and Addie. Your families even try to go as far as to dropping hints that all three kids should date.

Colton and Charlotte. You and Mason. Nick and Addie– all the same age and practically family already.

It was perfect.

Until you and Mason tried to date in the tenth-grade and realized that kissing the person you’ve shared every birthday party with, used to take baths with and shared every key moment growing up– wasn’t all that great. In fact, it was weird. So the two of you remained as the almost black sheep of the families, especially since Nick and Addie were headed down the same path as Charlotte and Colton. They started dating in eighth-grade– like Colton and Charlotte– and have maintained a healthy and strong relationship to now, even long-distance, when they’ll both be sophomores in college in the fall, Addie at the University of Missouri and Nick playing hockey at the University of Michigan.

You and Mason were there, always making jokes about how it runs in the family but skipped a generation. Never letting your siblings live it down that the two of you will be the ones to break the cycle. Funny how you two were also the ones who played the biggest roles in Charlotte’s engagement.

Both of your dads are huge St. Louis Blues fans. So naturally, they tried to rub that off onto their children. And it worked, all except for you. You tolerated the blues, but never really adopted hockey as your favorite sport. You understood it, watched it whenever you never had a choice– but like your mom, you gravitated more towards football and adopted her hometown team as your own– the Pittsburgh Steelers.

Colton and Charlotte, however, were both diehard Blues fans from day one. There were even pictures to prove it. They even went to a game on both their first ‘supervised’ date and ‘unsupervised’ date. So, when the Blues were making a run for the Stanley Cup– it was imminent for your families to attend at least one game. You and Mason did everything in your power to get the Blues attention. You emailed anyone and everyone who worked in their front office, you spammed their social media accounts– anything and everything to get their attention so you could share their story and Colton’s plan.

And at game four it all came to life. Charlotte was ‘randomly’ selected to participate in an intermission event after the first period where she’d be blindfolded and needed to walk along the ice to find Louie after collecting ‘Blues momentos’ along the way. The Blues had played the short slideshow of Colton and Charlotte that you and Mason had sent them, as they introduced her to the crowd. Unbeknownst to her, both of our families were on the ice with her, standing behind her while she was blindfolded. You and the other three siblings were scattered in front of her, each holding a single rose.

The Blues staff member helped her walk along the ice and the moment that she took a flower from someone, they needed to go back to where she started, which was where Colton was standing with the ring in his pocket. The four of you each had a sign, that when held up together read ‘Will you marry me?’ Once Charlotte neared Louie, he cut the distance to just by center ice where all of you were waiting. And when she found Louie, the entire crowd had erupted into cheers as she took off her blindfold, all smiles until she turned around to see the signs and Colton on one knee.

She said yes. The Blues won. The proposal went viral and your families were given a box to game seven where the Blues won the Stanley Cup.

All in a day's work between the two middle siblings, and one that led you all to this moment– the wedding tomorrow. Where Colton, who was already like a big brother yo you, would officially, pretty much become your big brother.

“Y/N,” your sister said, shaking your arm. “Y/N, get up. We’ve got like 45 minutes to get ready for dinner before we have to leave and no offense, but you need to shower.”

“Your lucky that you’re getting married tomorrow or I’d kill you,” you mumbled into the pillow, taking a deep breath and exhaling before pushing yourself up. “Can you charge my phone for me? I won’t take too long, just need to rinse off and I’ll be back.”

“In your backpack?” She asked as you walked out of the room.

“Mhhm, small front pocket. The charger is with it.”

You walked out of the room and into the connected bathroom, closing the door behind you before walking towards the shower and turning on the water. Your nap was more than enough to help you make it through dinner. You hadn’t thought that you were even that tired, but the moment you laid down to relax after eating your sandwich– you were absolutely knocked out.

To be fair though, you had spent the last two weeks partying it up on the beach with your college roommates, trying to relive every moment from your last four years of partying, downing booze, and making out with any attractive guy who caught your eye. You know what they say, no rest for the wicked– and boy, oh boy, were the wicked actions of shotgunning beers with strangers in the hot summer jersey sun, coming back to haunt you.

At least you got one hell of a tan and more memories to last you a lifetime, out of it all.

You turned off the shower before you stepped out and wrapped a towel around your body, then wrapping your hair up in a second towel. You walked out of the bathroom and back to the bedroom, only to find it empty. "Hey, Char?"

"In the living room...er, kitchen, I guess!"

You walked out of the bedroom and into the living room to see Charlotte sitting at the kitchen counter, a make-up mirror propped up in front of her and hot curling iron in her hand. "Why are you doing your hair in the kitchen?"

"You were in the bathroom and the lighting is lacking in the bedroom." She let a curl, fall from the iron and turned to you. "What's up?"

"Well, for one, the bathroom is free," you laughed, looking around. "And two, I was wondering where you put my suitcase? It was in the room and now it's not."

"No," she dragged out her reply, focusing on wrapping another piece of hair around the iron before averting her eyes towards the door. "You left it by the front door. Never brought it in."

You turned towards the front door and sure enough, right there not even three feet away from the door...was your suitcase. "Awesome, thanks!" You said, walking over and tugging on the handle, extending it out before walking back to the room. "And my phone?"

"Charging in the kitchen. It was dead by the way."

"Great," you huffed, walking into the bedroom and over to the bed. You lifted up the suitcase, letting it plop down onto the bed and exhaled a deep breath. It was a lot heavier than you thought it was. But maybe your body was just tired from traveling and last night's final night out.

You caught a glimpse of the alarm clock that was set up on the bedside table and saw that your getting ready time was vastly starting to dwindle. So, not thinking anything more of the heavy suitcase, you unzipped the zipper and threw the cover back, ready to grab the romper you had placed directly on top, just so it wouldn't get wrinkled. You stared down at the contents of the suitcase, quickly grabbing the cover and shutting it again.

Okay, maybe you were imagining things.

You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, exhaling, and then opening your eyes and opening the suitcase again.

No, you definitely weren't imagining things.

The same spike ball netting was still staring you right in the face. Surrounding it, were three spike balls and a crumbled up bag that was supposed to house the set. Beneath it, a bunch of crumpled up clothes and other things.

"No," you shut the suitcase again, repeating the same steps: close your eyes, take a breath, hope you're dreaming, open your eyes and then the suitcase, only to be disappointed. "No, no– oh my God, this can't be happening. Charlotte!!"

You heard her footsteps echo off of the wooden floor as she made her way to the bedroom, half of her hair curled and set. "What?"

"This isn't my suitcase."

"Of course it is," she scoffed. "Colton and I got you that big traveling set for graduation, and that," she pointed at the suitcase, "is it."

"No, it's not," You opened the suitcase and reached in, grabbing the first thing you felt and holding it up to show her. "See? Not mine!"

"Y/N," her eyes widened before she started to laugh. "You might want to put those down."

"It's just the spike ball bag, it's not big–" you turned to see what you were holding and sure enough, it was not the spike ball bag you thought you had picked up. It was a pair of Ant-Man boxers, and it was unknown whether or not they were clean or not. "Ah, ew!" You tossed them back into the suitcase, wiping your hand on your towel. "Ew, ew, ew, I just touched a stranger's dirty underwear."

"You don't know if they were dirty."

"You don't know if they were clean!" You argued back, looking around the handle for an identification tag. "This definitely isn't mine. My travel tag isn't on the handle."

"Who uses a travel tag?" She laughed, shaking her head.

"Me," you turned towards the suitcase, slamming it shut and zipping it. "I use a travel tag, so if my luggage gets lost or switched, they can contact me. It's common travel knowledge."

She sighed, walking over towards the suitcase and unzipping the two pockets on top, looking in and shaking her head. "Nothing hidden in those pockets. Did you think to go through the rest of the suitcase? Maybe they have a tag in there."

"And risk touching another pair of possibly dirty boxers and God knows what else? No thanks," you zipped up the suitcase and picked it up, placing it back onto the ground. "I'm doomed. That suitcase had all of the clothes that I took to Jersey, in it. It had my outfit and makeup for tonight."

"I have something you can borrow," she walked over to the closet, opening it to reveal it was empty besides two dresses hanging up. "And I've got make-up and whatever your little heart desires for your hair."

"Your wedding present was in there too," you sighed, walking over to the closet. "Which one?"

"This." She held out the rose-colored dress, handing the hanger to you. "You can get away with no bra and I can give you a pair of underwear from the new pack I bought this morning–"

"Why would you buy new underwear?" You asked, taking the dress.

"In case of emergencies," she closed the closet and turned back to you, nodding. "Which, this is. Unopened pack in that laundry basket I was carrying, feel free to take a pair and keep them. As for shoes...you're kind of on your own on that one."

You sighed, defeated as she walked out of the bedroom, leaving you to get dressed. You unwrapped the towel around your hair, letting it drop onto the floor as the towel wrapped around your body went with it. You took the dress off of the hanger and untied the straps, lifting the dress over your head and tugging it down. Your mind was going over every detail of just how you picked up the wrong suitcase. Fair, it was a dead-ringer for the suitcase you took with you to Jersey, but even you should have known to realize that there was no bright red luggage tag hanging on the side handle. And it was all you could do but hope that whoever picked up your suitcase thinking it was theirs, would at least call or text.

"Oh shit," you said, holding onto the straps that hung down on the side, trying to tie them in the back. "Charlotte! My phone!"

You ran out into the living room to see her now finishing up her make-up at the counter, turning to you with wide eyes. "Okay one, sit down and let me brush your hair," she stood up and grabbed your wrist, bringing you over to counter and sitting you down. "And two, your phone is right there."

"If they figured out our luggage was switched, they'd call! My luggage tag!" You reached across the counter, grabbing your phone and turning it over to see that the screen was still black. "Oh come on, my phone wasn't that dead!"

Charlotte tugged you back and started to brush your hair, not bothering to go slow. "I plugged it in the moment you went to take a shower, just give it a few seconds."

If looks could kill, your phone would be nowhere ready to turn on. You were glaring at the screen as if pure intimidation would turn it on. This could go one of two ways:

1) This person left your suitcase in the dark abyss that is lost luggage at the airport.

or

2) Like you, they didn't realize that they had grabbed the wrong luggage until they went to open it and they'll find your luggage tag and call you.

"Ah!" You yelled, jumping out of the chair as your phone lit up. You leaned over the counter, your heart racing as Charlotte tried to keep brushing your hair. "Come on, come on, come on..."

"Right there," Charlotte said, pointing at your screen as a text message notification popped up on the screen from an unknown number. "That has to be them!"

"Oh thank God," you sighed, thumb ready to swipe the message open. "Oh...yikes."

"Uh," Charlotte laughed as the two of you continued to watch your messages pour in, at least 5 coming in from the unknown number, along with three phone calls. "Yikes indeed, I guess they're panicking just as much as you are."

You swiped on the notifications, unlocking your phone, and going to the message.

unknown: hi y/n i think you grabbed the wrong suitcase...

unknown: yeah, uh, you most definitely grabbed the wrong suitcase.

unknown: is there any way we can switch in the next 30 minutes before i reach my house?

unknown: ok, so i'm sorry for the spam texts and calls...but this is kind of urgent.

unknown: like life or death.

"Life or death?" Charlotte asked, looking at you with a raised eyebrow. "What the hell was in that suitcase?"

"Spike ball and dirty clothes," you replied, shrugging. Your eyes went wide before you turned back to her. "What if they're a drug smuggler and there are drugs in there?"

She opened her mouth to speak before looking down at your phone, nodding. "Now's your chance to find out. Look who's calling."

You looked back down at your phone to see the unknown number flash on your screen. You looked back at her, shaking your head. "You answer it."

"Your luggage, you answer it," she laughed, pulling back segments of your hair to tie back. "But put it on speaker, I'm curious what the drug dealer sounds like."

You shoved your elbow back, avoiding her as you nervously slid your thumb across the screen, answering the call and pressing the speaker button. "Hello?"

"Oh thank God," the unknown called sighed, clearing his throat. "Sorry for the spam calls, I've just been panicking."

"Yeah, I’m sorry...my phone died," you replied, looking at Charlotte as your voice dwindled off.

"The suitcase," she mouthed, nodding her head back towards the room.

"Oh, the suitcase!" You said, almost a little too excited. You cleared your throat, calming yourself down. "I most definitely have your suitcase...maybe."

"Well I have yours," you could hear rustling in the background. "Y/N L/N, right?"

"Yep, that's me," you looked at Charlotte again, shaking your head. "Sorry to kind of do this...but how do I know I have your suitcase? I mean, what if I grabbed someone else's and you grabbed mine and there's three of us in this and–"

Charlotte smacked your back lightly with the back of the brushed, shaking her head as the voice on the other side of the phone laughed. "Um, shit," he coughed, smacking his lips. "Uh well, there should be a spike ball set in there. If not, then I left it at Johnny's. Otherwise, it's just clothes."

"Congratulations," you laughed, leaning back into the chair. "I've got your suitcase."

"Oh thank God, I was really worried there for a second," they replied. "Is there any chance we can exchange them soon?"

"Okay, so about that," you sighed, biting the inside of your cheek. "I kind of have a wedding rehearsal and dinner to go to in 20 minutes...and I don't think that will be over with till about...two hours from now. Is that okay?"

There was silence on the other side and you couldn't help but feel horrible at the fact that you were keeping this stranger away from his luggage and that he had to keep yours until then. "My family and I are going to dinner in two hours, reservation and all."

"Where at?" You spoke before your brain could even catch up with what your mouth was doing. "I'm sorry that was creepy."

He laughed and you felt a little flutter feeling in your stomach. "No, it's fine. I think we're going to Maggiano's in–"

"In the Westfield town center?" Your eyes widened as Charlotte placed the brush down on the counter behind you, looking at you with a smile. "We're going to Pieology in the Westfield town center!"

"Pieology for a wedding rehearsal dinner? Sounds like my kind of party," he laughed. "So, do you just want to exchange then? When I get there and you're leaving?"

"Sounds perfect!"

"Great! So I'll just, text you when I get there and I promise I won't forget the suitcase."

"Okay, I'll see you then."

"All right, bye, Y/N!"

"Bye!" You hung up the call and Charlotte leaned against the counter a smile on her face. "What?"

"He sounded cute." She stuck placed the extra bobby pins she didn't need, onto the counter. "Maybe he can be your date for my wedding."

"Not this again," you groaned, getting out of the chair. "For the last time, I don't need a date. Besides, this guy is a total stranger– I don't even know his name!"

"You can learn it later," she laughed, wiggling her eyebrows. "Either way, do your makeup quickly because we need to leave in ten."

She walked off towards the bedroom the two of you had claimed and you sighed, sitting back down into your seat, grabbing her mascara, blush, and golden liquid shimmer eyeshadow. It was the best you could do for now, until you got all of your stuff back from this stranger. As you applied the eyeshadow, you couldn't get Charlotte's comment out of your head. She was right, he did sound cute. But who's to say that he's not a total creep? Or that he's even your age? He could be in his 40's or even barely cruising 18. And then stood the real issue, you didn't even know his name.

Your phone screen lit up once again and you looked away from the mirror, seeing that you had another text from the unknown number. You furrowed your eyebrows and unlocked your phone, opening his text.

unknown: my name is matt, by the way 😊

[popculturebuffet]

Ducktales: The Treasure of the Lost Lamp Movie Reviewcap! (Patreon Stretch Goal)

Hello all you happy people! And we have a special review today for two reasons. The first is that this is my second patreon stretch goal review, having hit the 15 dollar goal back in march thanks to my wonderful friend Emma, the same patreon whose responsible for the Green Eggs and Ham Reviews,  who helped me hit the 15 dollar goal.  As a result you fine people are getting three movie reviews each based on a Disney Afternoon Movie with Treasure of the Lost Lamp today, a goofy movie at the end of the motnh for  a weeklong tribute to my favorite dogmandadguy.  Extremley was going to be part of it but the length of this review convinced me otherwise, but I will be doing it this summer so keep an ear out. If you want to help me hit my next stretch goals do yourselve a favor and zip on over to my patreon YOU CAN FIND MY PATREON HERE. My next stretch goal at “OH Look 20 Dollars” would give everyone patreon and not, a monthly review of Darkwing Duck as decided by my patrons, reviews of BOTH season 2 mini series from Ducktales 87, introducing Fenton to the world and blighting it with Bubba before the 2017 series fixed him, and as a brucey bonus added last month a review of Danny Phantom the Ultimate Enemy. And if that wasn’t enough if you help me get to the goal after that at 25 unlocks another trilogy of disney film reviews, this time for the proud family and recess movie and the best kim possible movie, and dcom period, so the drama as well as Bryan Lee O’ Malley’s two stand alone graphic novels, lost at sea and seconds for you Scottaholics in the audience.

The other reason now the shilling’s done. is that the plan WAS to review this back to back with Treasure of The Found Lamp, to the point the orginal review had a whole thing about that, why it was delayed etc... but now that review’s been scrapped all together as something sudden and wonderful happened. After just kinda giving up someone came through with a translation of Della’s first apperance so presumibly i’ll be doing that as part of the build up to mother’s day, and since I still want ot do maternal instincts too, and already had to let the Floyd Gottfredson birthday special slide away as well... it had to go as I want to leave the only open space on the schedule for the lovely person who found the story for me. But this review is still done, i’m very proud of it so join me under the cut won’t you?

Behind The Scenes: Before I get into it i’d just like to note this article from SyFy Wire. It , along with articles I found via wikipedia citations, was an invaluable resource. 

The film was an experiment: It was an experiment to see if one of their tv properties could bring in theatrical money, to see if a movie made on a cheaper budget and still rake in decent money, to see if a film could be made being outsourced to several diffrent places, and to see what one of those places, their recently aquiried french stuido, could handle this kind of work. 

The film, if succesful would be the first of Disney’s MovieToons line, a series of films based on their shows. As you can tell by the fact only this movie and Goof Troop happened and the Movie Toons label wasn’t applied to that one it very much failed. While the film was warmly recevied by people who liked the show general audiences didn’t turn out for it. As a result the MovieToons label was scrapped, future projects with it were canceled.. but the stellar work put in by the french stuidio lead to it perserviering for several more decades and lead to them working on the Goofy Movie, which we’ll get to later this month but needless to say was a MUCH bigger hit with a much bigger budget. 

As for why the film failed... I have two theories. THe first is that parents were stupid back then and didn’t want to pay to see something on the big screen they could see on tv’s. This is a stupid mentality to me as generally a movie of a tv show puts in a ton of extra effort and usually goes bigger and dosen’t go home. It’s a likely theory given most liscened films of the era didn’t do quite well, with all three hasbro films tanking. And look I get Transformers the Movie is cheesy and killed a lot of people’s childhood toys, but damn if it ain’t aweosme.. and also something I need to cover at some point. Thankfully this died out by later in the 90′s with Rugrats getting a hugely succesful if flawed film, a better sequel and a third one that was also a crossover with the wild thornberries. 

And even now in 2020 we’re getting the Loud House and Rise of the TMNT movies sometimes this summer, we were SUPPOSED to have gotten the bobs burgers movie this summer but arne’t because Disney is being a dick about it.

And we got a phineas and ferb movie last year. With this trend hopefully thsi means we’ll get a Ducktales 2017 movie at some point since season 4 left a huge sequel hook laying right there to grab for a feature film.  One final note: The film was conceptually thought up as a 5 part serial like “Treasure of the Golden Suns”, “Catch as Cash Can”, “SuperDucktales” and “Time is Money, something that DOES show as the movie weirdly has act breaks. In a feature film. Yup. 

The Guest Cast:

I won’t go into the full cast since I’ve sung Alan Young and Russi Taylor’s praises PLENTY on this blog before, and I plan to go into Beakly and Launchpad’s actors when they show up in the pilot movie. But i’d be remiss if i didn’t talk about our three guest actors for our three new parts. 

First up is Merlock voiced by legend and if I had a hall of fame, hall of famer Christopher Lloyd.. I need to get me one of those. Lloyd is of course known for playing Doc Brown in back to the future but has done countless other films, voicework, and other good stuff. Among his MASSIVE filmography includes The Back to the Future Trilogy (Already mentioned it but it bears repeating), Star Trek III, Who Framed Roger Rabbit as the pants destroyingly terrifying Judge Doom, The Addams Family duology as fester, a role rip torn would ironcially play for the animated series made to captalize on said movie, Hey Arnold! The Movie, The Oogieloves in The Big Ballon Adventure (Look everybody needs money sometimes okay?), and Art of the Deal: The Movie, which was not, thankfully an ego filating nightmare made by trump himself but a film made by funny or die parodying his terrible book and having Llloyd return as Doc Brown. TV Wise he’s known for Taxi, Back to the Future the Animated Series, Cyberchase and he most recently popped up on Big City Greens. How I missed that ep I.. do know as I haven’t watched season 2. Gonna fix that later this month. Lloyd is utterly awesome, a great guy and thankfully still alive at the time of this writing, so I was happy to have him here. 

Less familiar to me but still known is Rip Taylor, a comedian known for his flamboyant unique way of speech and his marvelous mustache. He showed up in things occasionally and always seemed like the nicest guy and his passing in late 2019 truly is sad. He does a terrific job here but more on that in a moment. 

Finally we have Richard Libertini, a comedian I never really saw in anything besides this who according to IMDB was most famous for his ablility to do a foreign accent. I REALLY hope all of them aren’t as horribly racist as this one. We’ll.. get to that in a sec as it’s time for the plot!

A Treasure Uncovered:

We open our film gorgeously. The animation is great in the film, having some rough edges I chalk up to the film’s hectic production, the studio being new at working at disney properties, and the film not being meant for HD. That being said a few rough spots here and there aside.. the film looks ungodly gorgeous. Like most theatrical films based on a cartoon it takes an already great style and makes it look great. It feels like a more fluid evolution of the cartoons look and it’s a shame we didn’t get more movies in this style for both this show and others, ESPECIALLY Darkwing Duck. Can you imagine a Darkwing Duck movie with this lush animation? Hopefully we’ll get one eventually. 

So our heroes are going to somewhere in the Middle East. That’s.. that’s all wikipedia gives me and all the film gives me. As usual Scrooge is after treasure in this case the Treasure of Collie Baba, the greatest thief there ever was based obviously off Ali Baba from 1001 nights and that one Beastie Boys song. 

It’s here we find the WORST thing about the film, the thing that makes this a hard one to watch depsite otherwise being pretty good, and that makes my skin crawl knowing i’m a white man and a BUNCH of white guys, Ducktales series creator who did the voice casting for this character, the writers who wrote him, the direector disney them fucking selves who thought this was okay. 

The film has some horrible steroytping. It starts with a bunch of backgorund guys surronding Scrooge, with crooked teeth and steotypical voices. This on it’s own is odious. 

It somehow gets worse. Then we meet one of our antagonists. We meet Dijon. 

This Fucking Guy 

Djon is horribly offensive reminding me of other such luminaries in being ungodly offensive yet somehow getting put to film as Jar Jar Binks (With all respeect to his poor actor Ahmed Best, this is not his fault), Rob Schinder as a Sterotypically asian preist, Skids and Mudflap, Rob Schinder as a sterotypically mexican bandit, The Whitewashed cast of The Last Airbender, and Rob Schinder as a stereotypically asian preist. What i’m saying is Djon is an AWFUL, horribly offensive character.. and that Rob Schinder should be shot up into space, not to watch cheesy movies, he’s not funny enough for that, but instead to be sent to a satlitie that’s liveable, but also filled to the brim with spring loaded boxing gloves. Just tons of boxing gloves that feel like getting punched by a heavewight boxer all hidden... they could hit his legs, his face, his nuts, his face and his nuts, the point is he’s in constnat pain unless he moves carefully. 

And lest you think i’m exaggerating for starters this is his design. 

It just screams “vaugely but sterotpyically middle eastern” along with cowardly. The fact he’s also a literal rat is just the icing on the cake made of broken glass, shrapnel and broken DVD’s of Transformers; Revenge of the Fallen. They say if you eat a reveng eof the fallen dvd John Tutoro appears at the foot of your bed and watches you while you sleep.. and by they I mean me. It was a bad bet. I got rid of him with some insese and a bribe of five dollars. 

Oh but that’s just design.. when he talks it’s MUCH worse. His voice is like if they took Apu from the simpsons and said “This but MORE offensive”, and his perosnality is WORSE. He’s a thief.. and not in the endearing loveable rogue way but he’s a pick pocket and a running “Gag’ is that he’ll often grab eveyrthing within reahc. As the deisgn shows he’s a coward running at every opportunity. Oh and to top it all off he’s the willing servant of the white coded, given all ducks in this series are white coded and voiced bby white actors, big bad. And the actor is naturally VERY white to make this cocktail of offensivness so complete that if Disney ever got rid of this film I GUARANTEE the republcian party would be running in with accusations of cancel culture gone amok and never shutting up about this like they did the muppets. Which for the record THEY DIDN’T CANCEL THEM, YOUR POINT IS ILLEGITMATE, THEY JUST WANTED TO BE SENSTIVE YOU GHOULS. 

I do have a reason for bringing up Disney’s content warnings... most damming of all given just how DEEPLY uncomfortbale this character is.. there isn’t one for this movie. I double checked: There isn’t even wanring notes on the website. It’s just.. on there. And given just how ghastly a sterotype Djon is.. that’s not right. Seriously they DID put them on certain episodes of the show, theyk now this sort of thing is wrong and they done wrong.. but for NO reason they haven’t done so for a film released 31 years ago. Around the same time as the series and just offensive as that show at it’s worst if not more so. This is flatly inexcusable.. par for the course for Disney’s incompetence but still horribly furstrating, disgusting and shameful.. which has been the theme of the last three days really. I expect better because when it comes to putting that warning label on this stuff, they usually are better. First the scheduling mixup and now this. You already do a handful of things wrong Disney why add this to the list?!

It’s just draining not only to run into another Disney Fuckup after a weekend of dealing with one of their worst in recent memory, but just to watch Djon. To see this horrible caractrure saunter onto the screen and go on with his harmful schtick, to see that THIS is what Ducktales 87 reduced non white people to more often than not.  It’s remarkable just how throughly and awesomely Frank and Matt completely and totally reversed this. Instead of horrible sterotypes in the reboot, we got TONS of loveable people of color, an endearing latino hero, a smart african american buisness woman who takes no shit but is still a consumate professional, and an egyptian HERO with an intresting story and a strong moral code instead of this horrible reminder that racisim in media was such an afterthought not ONE person brought this up during the scyfy wire stuff or in any inteview i’ve seen. No one cared. Djon was POPULAR enough that he got three episode sin the series. THREE FUCKING EPISODES. This film could be GOOD.. but it’s just so bogged down EVERY FUCKING TIME this artists interpreitation of what Tucker Carlson sees when he looks at a middle eastern person I had to pause to compose myself and had to take a break writing this review to avoid tyiping this in all caps and using the phrase YOU RACIST MOTHERFUCKERS every other sentence. And again i’m white, I get this is second hand offensiveness.. I do... but it dosen’t mean I can’t be offended other white people were so callous about other cultures behaviors this happened.

And what makes me feel worse.. is that I just sorta... never thought about white people voicing non white characters. Things like this I noticed sure, I realize now part of the reason I didn’t like this movie the first time I saw it was this alex jones version of a looney tune, but I do feel shame for not noticing or caring long before this. Sure I loved it when a character of color got played by a person of color.. but I didn’t realize just how deep that problem was and how LONG it went on for before the outcry post george floyd and the call to action lead to most shows still going course correcting. It’s why stuff like this extra botehrs me: because THIS was just as okay at the time. No one blinked twice about this and odds are the creators involved still haven’t. And that.. that’s just terrible and it hurts to think about and  I still have most of the movie to go.  

The Pyramid of Peril:

So we do get a gorgeous unvewling scene of a box Scrooge found out about from Collie Baba’s horde that should lead them to the treasure. This scene reminds me of Indina Jones.. and I bring this up because the poster was specifically made to mimick an indinia jones poster, to the point of getting drew struzan to do it. THe creator of Ducktales objected..l but I do not get WHY. While I”m not sure if he had yet, Speilberg flat out admits the Carl Barks comics were an inspiration for Indina Jones, with the iconic bolder chase coming from a similar scene in one of Barks Stories. Gotta cover that too. So yeah I don’t get not wanting an indina jones style poster when both were inspiried by the same work and it’s just simple logic and it looks so neat. Thank you. 

Scrooge finds seemingly just clothes.. and a map. Jeff Dunham’s Most Racist Puppet reports to his master, Merlock. Merlock is a.. meh villian. Christopher Lloyd does try.. but Lock is your standard evil overlord wants to take over the world type. He dosen’t have much depth, or personality and only his style saves him from dragging the film down along with Dana Carvey’s most racist disguise in master of disguise. He does have a deent shape shifting gimick and being played by Christopher Lloyd means he’s acted TREMENDOUSLY. Alan Young was apparently in awe watching him work and that’s wonderful to hear. The guy did his best. Weirdly Merlock would show up in tons of other works, mostly video games.. but even weirder he NEVER showed up in ducktales 2017. Both Djon and Gene would, Djon thankfully renamed we’ll get to all of that tommorow thank god. I need it after this. But Frank has outright said they didn’t use Merlock because there simply wasn’t anything they could do with him they couldn’t dow ith magica. My likely guess is the might of found a way to revamp him EVENTUALLY, it’s not like radical revamps weren’t there thing come on, they just had way more stories with Magica and didnd’t get around to it before the show was canceled. Just make him some sort of evil god or something. it’s what I might do. There’s a lot of angles with him. Though I would’ve still gotten christopher lloyd back. I mean most of the recasting is good but he’s still alive and deserved a better shot at things. 

So Merlock sends Djonn to go with scrooge as his guide to find the treasure, as there’s something of imense power within it. And I gotta ask WHY does Merlock need a minon. No really. This isn’t a situation like reboot magica where he’s trapped in another realm. He can shapeshift into any animal. We only see him use falcon, rat, cockroach and bear but theoritically he can become anything and bear alone is still a LOT. Why does he need this sterotype even other sterytopes ar eashamed of? The film dosen’t NEED Djonn. Just let Christopher Lloyd monologue and leave this post 911 propogranda cartoon at home. 

So our heroes nad rejected jar jar prototype head into the desert, and seemingly find nothing before finding a small pyramid all while Merlock follows desecretley as a mighty hawk. 

Scrooge makes the boys and Djon dig... because they clearly forgot the “work hard” part of his ethos. 

Our heroes unveil the pyramid... and while Merlock SAYS he searched the desert and I get it’s hard to see thourgh all of that.. the dude is immortal, had decades to search and had Mickey Rooney there on standby to force him to go comb the desert. I have an artist rendering of that hang on

So our heroes enter the pyramid and it goes.. really how you’d expect: there’s a bunch of traps our brave explorers have to pass, the boys minintpret a juinor woodchuck saying about loosing your marbles to mean using the ones they actually have which geninely comes in handy as they trip the traps and Rob SChinder as a carrot stumbles into one. Also launchpad is wearing a hawaiin shirt and shades. This has no baring on the plot, but it does bring the movie up a notch in my book and I question why the reboot never used this outfit. Then again they also never properly used Donald’s Quack Pack Outfit (Which bad show or not, is objectively awesome), or his Quack Shot Indiana Jones Riff Outfit, so  it’s not like there isn’t a presdecnt for not giving a character a cool costume change from a previous medium. I really should do a top 12 missed opportunities list for the 2017 cartoon.. the ideas for stuff are really piling up. 

OUr heroes eventually find the treasure which has insidiously clever security the more I think about it: at first I thought it had none, just a pit with some... scorpions? I mean their supposed to be but they look like they crawled out of the same stygian hole in the sky Doofus crawled out of. And if your asking me “wait which Doofus” the answer is both. Both these abominations crawled out of a stygian hole in the sky.

But the treasure is on a platform surrounded by scoprions with the only way out being the trap filled way they came in. Unless someone comes in with a full team and a bunch of lootin sacks, they aren’t getting out with EVERYTHING. They can steal SOME of the treasure but there’s no way to get any signifigant portion... and the team thing itself is an issue, something Collie defintely predicted being a thief himself: while some thieves can work well as a team, hence why we have four oceans movies 3/4 damn good, and for the record 12 is the bad one, 8 is how you do a soft reboot and a female led reboot right, a good chunk of professional crooks will turn on each other or try and swinldle... and tha’ts dangerous in a trap filled temple but hey some criminals ain’t so smart.  If they all were Rudy Gulliani wouldn’t have two razzies for preparing to pull his pants down, and have waved his phone around on tv like a dare for future adminstrations to arrest the shit out of him would he? 

But Scrooge has his family so they get loading. But not before Webby finds the lamp. Not knowing about it Scrooge has no intrest in it, but Webby does. We also get a really simple but hilarious gag where SCrooge dickers over the idea for a second.. before Webby picks up a Jeweled tiara to possibly take instead. The best gags to me are often the ones that just let the character’s perosnalities take the lead and bounce off each other. It’s why when I reviewed the four lilo and stitch crossovers recently I harped on character interaction as their biggest weakness: it’s what MAKES a good work for me. It’s why my faviorite comics and shows often follow a loveable group of disfunctional misfits. I like a group of big personalities who despite in theory should NOT be able to work making it work anyway. And it’s honeslty what’s made Scrooge last so long: Scrooge on his OWN is awesome.. but iwth the boys, donald, and in the case of this series and the reivival Webby and Launchpad, with people to bounce off of who he contrasts heavily with, from Launchapd’s buffonery to Webby’s inehrent sweetness in both versions, to the boys genuine honesty and sense of adventure.... it makes him truly stand out. He’s a great character on his own, don’t get me wrong.. but it’s the people around him that give him chances to show WHY. A good character on it’s own is fine and dandy.. a good character with other good characters around them is where it gets truly special. 

Merlock naturally bursts in and in a VERY Black Heron move needlesly outs what micheal bay sees when he closes his eyes as a bad guy... no really he grabs the guy with his talons as he captures the treasure and reveals he’s a bad guy. I don’t even get why keep Djonn alive. He’s done all Merlock possibly could’ve needed and Merlock is ruthless... this makes no sense and only happens because they need Djonn for later in the plot.

Our heroes barely escape, rafting out on the platform itself in a thrilling sequence.. but it’s the one right after that catches my attention. Scrooge utterly defeated, having searched for this treasure for forty years and unresponsive to everyone else. The anmation, coupled with the incomprable Alan young’s acting makes this the highlight of the film for me. Beneath the armor of wealth and skill.. is only a poor old man who just lost something he’s been chasing after most of his life. Scrooge tries his hardest not to be vunerable and both shows and the original comics all use that so when he truly is devistated like this, and i’ts belivible since this treasure is a personal goal of his and as someone who has had things that they seek out specifically, loosing them always hurts. It hurts to ALMOST reach a goal only to have it crumble out under you

But while this alone is good.. what’s next makes it great. Webby sweetly offers up the lamp. Scrooge turns it down, and her genuine gesture reinvgorates him and reminds us of who he is “I’ll find it if it takes another 40 years”> Scrooge may be bitter, mean and selfish a lot of the time.. but deep down, he’s a good man and one who will not give up, and a momentary setback can only stop him so long as long as he has his family to remind him of who he truly is.. and what’s truly important. It’s genuinely sweet and to me is also a reminder of why 87 Webby is a good character: Shes’ not perfect, her main personality trait is often Girl Sterotype”.. but she’s a genuinely sweet small child with a huge heart. It’s telling that while 17′ Webby is almost completely diffren,t and far better, that heart remains her biggest strength. Sure her reboot self could kill a man nad no one would ever find the body, but it’s her heart and empathy that makes that possible and makes her Webby.  That inherent loving nature is what makes Webby webby wether she’s a toddler having a tea party or a tween getting ready to intergoate a guy with a meat tenderizer while saying ‘Cute girl stuff”. 

Gene Genie Let’s Himself Go:

It’s a few days later and this is the point where it REALLY becomes obvious this was written as a bunch of episodes. Though to the film’s credit while it does ake this feel like a compliation movie as a result... it dosen’t hamper the film’s quality, condiment from Rush Limbaghs’ hot dog stand does that just fine, but once you notice it it’s impossible to unotice it. Weirdly though it seems chunked up into four episodes rather than the usual five, likely cutting down an episode, though I can’t see where they cut out material frankly if they did and i’ts just as likely they woudl’ve had to make one to fill in the space.

So Scrooge is in a mood, being grumpy with his secretary Mrs. Featherly, quackfaster in all but name, and having to be sent home. So while Duckworth goes to fetch him Webby polishes her treasure at long last readying for a tea party, something the boys roundly reject because their sexist little twits and swo were the writers or executies who assumed all little boys act the same. It’s easily my biggest pet peeve with the series as a whole: anytime this crops up with the boys it turns them into the worst dicks imaginable. It’s telling this, being mean about her wantin ga tea party with her surrogate brothersi s TAME. Normally they’ll say she can’t do things because she’s a girl or mock her hobies outright instead of just be mildly dickish. And while she dosen’t look much younger Webby is VERY CLEARLY, in this series anyway, supposed to be say 5 or 6 to the boys 8-10. 7 at most. SHe’s a small child and while it is realistic for older kids to bully younger ones, it’s not fun to watch. It’s why I get annoyed at all the big sibling bully characters.. some work, but most aren’t fun to watch because there’s nothing funny or intresting about it. It’s the same deal here. 

Thankfully that quickly goes away as the lamp moves when Webby rubs it and does so again to prove it did move. Huey finishes it and we’re introduced to Gene, the best part of the film.  Gene is a Genie and he takes a second to dart around before messing with the appliances in the kitchen, as he was last around during the time 1001 Nights Came About. Cleverly though, and so we thankfully don’t have 80 dozen fishout of water jokes that have already been done before. As you can probably guess i’m not a huge fan of time travel fish out of water stuff. Now from another dimensoin or planet, i’m on board with with Star Vs, Steven Universe and Sym-Bionic Titan being great examples of this, as is the comic resident alien. (Despite having the wonderous Alan Tuduk the show sounds way more mean spirited and misses the entire point of the comic as given by the author in the credits, i.e. that the alien is supposed to NOT be a threat and just be gently waiting for a ride) The inverse is also good with Amphbia and owl house, taking a human and plopping them into our world. But time travel stuff just usually runs the same beats of “look at the shiny thing” and what not. The only time i’ve sene something SIMILAR work is with thor where their society is SIMILAR to vikings time but still it’s own thing.. it also gave us a classic gag in..

So yeah i’m glad they dropped this and instead had a clever way around it: Gene reads the encylopedia at the mansion. Granted it’s Scrooge so I don’t know how current it is and given this came out in 1990 thus HOW racist it is. It’s not a questoin of IF it was, but how much.

But having caught up the kids confront him with the fact he has to grant wishes. This lamp runs on what I now realize are Aladdin rules: Whoever currently holds the Lamp is the Genie’s master, they only get three wishes, and that dosen’t reset if it changes hands. The only big diffrence from the usual is Gene dosen’t have to TELL them about the wishes like Genie did, and Gene very begrudginly agrees to it. He also seem’s phsyically pained when doing so. 

So since all 12 know about him, each of the kids gets a wish though it seems unfair with HDL. Their one person, they shoudln’t get 9 wishes just because their brain is spread out over three bodies. 

This film continues the weird simliarties to Aladdin by attaching rules though they instead come up as a result of our heroes talking rather than the Genie just flat out tleling them: both share the “you can’t wish for more wishes” thing, a common rule in these stories and usually only broken nowadays as a clever twist as the rule is SO common place, not having it is a twist. But it is there for a reason: to limit the sheer power of a reality warping wish. The wishes can also only go so far. In a nice line, when Huey, Dewey or Louie suggests wishing for peace one earth, Gene says “No pipe dreams’ He can’t bend people or reality on THAT scale. He can bend reality as we find out, but it’s smaller scales like turning someone’s possesions over ot someone else, warping the bin into a castle, or bringing inanitamte objects to limited life. Still HUGE feats worth of a genie, so Gene’s power isn’t so nerfed it’s unusuable, but it does explain why his evil pervious ownder Merlock, more ont hat in a bit too, didn’t just wish to have eternal dominon over the earth or something. Gene can do just about anything but he can’t change the world on a fundemental level. 

And I do LIKE having rules in wished based stories like this, I chalk it up to growing up with Fairly Odd Parents... though they eventually went too far in the oppsoitie direction, pulling rules out of their ass to suit the episode, instead of simply having some very standard, very understandable rules that still pose challenges but don’t outright cheat so the episode can happen. 

So Webby does her first wish.. and wishes for a Baby Elephant, something Gene is against as he prefers they keep the wishes small: otherwise he gets found out, and the fight over him begins. So one of the boys wishes him away. Or Webby does. Point is it’s gone though not before Beakly sees it and Scrooge smells something is up. Our heroes try to hide gene, but gene thankfully simply dresses up like a modern kid and thus is able to pass as a friend of there staying for the night. 

So with the rules established and what not the kids find a clever solution: they simply go a ways away from the mansion into the woods, far enough from town to avoid any suspcion, and same iwth the mansion and just wish for all kinds of stuff: a giant bunch of ice cream toys, standard kid wish fufillment but it’s nice... in part because the kids treat Gene like one of them. Wihle they STARTED asking him about the wishes, this starts the bonding process. Soon he will be part of the hive mind.. SOON. 

Until then though after using another wish to make scrooge not mad at them for coming home late and missing dinner, that night we find out Gene’s backstory.... and it’s an utter tearjerker. As it turns out Merlock wants him back because he’s Gene’s former master and as you’d guess.. it was NOT a happy existnace, used contstnatly to do horrible things with no power to stop himself. Pompeii and Atlantis were both directly Merlock’s fault and it was only Collie Baba stealing the lamp that put an end to his hell. He also answers the two obvious questions botht he audeiince and the boys have: How the hell is Merlock still alive and shoudln’t he be out of wishes then? The first is simple. Unlike pretty much every DBZ Villian whose WANTED to do so, Merlock wished for immortality first chance he got, taking the Zamasu route instead and thus leaving him free. 

As for the wishes thing it turns out his amulet, in adition to shapeshifting, also gives him extra wishes becuase fuck it. 

But the boys sweetly offer to protect him. 

The next day, Apu’s Cousin let’s Merlock know the maps in the mansion and Merlock has him help sneak in with Merlock taking rat form. This backfires as Mrs. Beakley notices the form and chases after him with a broom

Meanwhile Webby has her tea party with Gene after he and the boys played cops and robbers earlier, and he’s bored.. though nicely not because it’s a girly thing, but because the stuffed animals aren’t alive and she naively has him fix that. This leads to 

Which sadly is jsut scrooge vs a duck toy but admit it, you want that movie for Disney Plus yesterday. Call Charles Band Disney. CALL CHARLES BAND! 

Whelp Scrooge Still Sucks:

Scrooge takes for a turn for the obnoxious in the next part, but i’ts fine by me as it’s part of the plot. Naturally this reinactment of Cult of Chucky has lead to Scrooge finding out about the Genie. To his credit, Scrooge is tactical about his wishes. As said by the Duck himself “I could wish for a diamond, no the world’s biggest dimaond, no ten world’s biggest diamond, no a diamond mind, no the MINING INDUSTRY!”

The sheer power this gives him is TERRIFYING, both because of his status.. and because unlike the kids who all wished for simple kid stuff and used up their wishes quickly, he both gets how much he can do with this and could conquer the world economy if he truly wanted to. 

The obnoxious part comes in as he treats Gene as not a person, figuring he’s just there and forces him into the lamp despite the kids protests after Gene grants his first wish: Collie Baba’s treasure. It also dosen’t feel like the wishing nor him using the lamp to get the tresure back goes against his hard work ethos: for the former while he is getting all this magically, he’s still having ot use his wits to get the most out of it, and he did earn the lamp itself square. For the latter, he already earned the treasure square too and had it stolen. He’s onlyg etting back what’s by all rights HIS. Granted he plans on giving most of it up for a tax break but still it’s his by right. 

However the reason his assholery works is twofold: first it’s Scrooge. While he’s not a TERRIBLE person, in the comcis and this cartoon he isn’t a GOOD person either. He DOES have a good heart and will usually do the right thing, but his first instnct is always to get more money and to be a cantakerous old bastard to eveyrone and everything. While he’s subtly grew out of “I hate eveyrone and everyone hates me” as his guiding principal, it’s still his defualt reaction to most situations. But he first relents by letting Gene attend the party, part of why the Collie Baba thing stung so bad was that he’s told the historical society he’d get the treasure for years only to come back empty handed, if shrunken. But he still manages to have a good time while Asok and Merlock infiltrate.. well I’mRunningOutofINsultingNIcknamesCanYouTell steals the silverware. Yes... that.. that really happens. 

Look we’re almost done, i’m almost free of this racist mummies curse. Let’s continue. Gene sees melock and freaks and drags SCrooge with him and while at First Scrooge is cranky...

No but now I want a Donkey Kong Country crossover too dammmit. And to talk about those games. Another thing for the list. But Scrooge is righ tot be a bit surly...

Okay now your just pushing it. As Gene whisked him away without telling him anything other than vauge worries... but then he gets a full idea of why Gene’s so terrified when Merlock shapeshifts into a bear and starts breaking the door down. Eh, could be worse. 

Gene shrinks them to escape and Merlock leaves thinking they fled but leaves Skids Minus Mudflap to go look for them. Scrooge sneaks out but bumps into a cart running from the photo you see when you look up stereotype on google. I mean I assume.. let’s try it. 

Huh you know I HOPED but I never expected... 

So Google Proving My Point plans to give his lamp to the master because of his weird Torgo-Esque obession with helping a man who clearly wants to murder him but takes his sweet time doing so because plot, and Gene figuring this COULDN’T POSSIBLY go as bad as Melock getting him urges the dummy to keep him and make his own wishes.

This goes about as well as you’d expect....

Wiped Out With A Wish:

Scrooge returns home to find Watto has wished to take his poessions, fortune, everything and Scrooge gets thrown in jail for breaking into his own house. We get two great moments back to back. The first is Scrooge lamenting loosing his fortune in jail, and realizing the sheer power and risk of the lamp, especially since he worked hard to earn it, every bit of it.. and Sam Wilson’s 70′s Backstory came in and took it all in an instant. 

The second is Scrooge’s family coming for him, including Launchpad , Beakly and Webby obviously and bailing him out. Though Beakly is UNGOLDLY annoying in this scene, sobbing hysterically and adding nothing and it’s not nearly as funny as the  film thinks. Turns out Goliath getting buried wrapped in chains threw them out. 

Scrooge takes a bit to rebound from all this.. but eventually realizes something: he knows the security of the bin inside and out. He had it put in after all. So it’d be easy enough to break in. So they gotta break in to break out the lamp, undo this nightmare, and END THIS MOVIE. Seriously this review has taken two days  as is I do NOT want to miss my invincible review. 

So they break into the bin, and it’s a tightly paced Scene, scrooge going in one way while the kids go the other and we even get a nice callback as the marbels come in handy to get past one of the traps. It’s just a good scene. it’s only real flaw is that Launchapd just sorta disappears as does Duckworth despite the fact their in a plane, and the bin later gets turned into a floating castle. Kinda a plot hole to not have Launchpad crash in to save htem just saying. 

Scrooge eventually does get to Djonn, whose been ignoring the imminent threat of Merlock while Gene sweats it out... and this backfires horribly as Merlock hitched a ride as a roach (Though there was a hilarious scene of him getting fried constnatly by lasers when Louie went through a laser hallway, as while Louie had the directions, it dind’t take into account passengers on your head. 

So Merlock remanifests in full gets the Lamp and unleashes his wrath on Tin Tin in the Congo and turns him into a wild pig. 

Not you sweetie. He then forces Gene to turn the castle into a fortress and float it back to his home in parts unknown. It’s a DAMN cool scene with impressive and horrifiing animation as the bin melts and crumbles into thte castle and the kids barely make it up the stares as they shift and disolve. Really top notch stuff.

Scrooge stands up to Merlock... and this naturally goes poorlyw ith Gene begging Merlock not to respond.. and Merlock having him blow scrooge off the top of the forgtess storm eagle style, though scrooge understands. And this is the true reason why scrooge being a dick didn’t bother me so much. Because it helps create a great contrast between him and Merlock. Both thought of Gene as a tool rather than a person.. but Scrooge grew to realize he was wrong and what he was dealing with wasn’t some magical goodies creator.. but a child forced to constantly grant wishes, in sheer agony to do so no less, likely so sick of it because again and again and again people used him as a slave to get what they wanted and to hell with what Gene wanted. He realized he was terrible for making this poor boy into his slave simply because that’s his job. In contrast Merlock could give no shits and is a malevolent monster who glefully uses Gene despite the pain the wishes put him through and his protests. It’s why Gene is the best part.. he’s  athroughly likeable, throughly inncoent character with tons of personality and a truly tragic and horrifying backstory and Rip Taylor acts the hell out of every scene with the guy. 

Thankfully the marbles come in handy one last time and Huey, Dewey or Louie snipes the lamp away and a struggle for it insues between Scrooge and Merloc mid air. it’s fucking awesome.. and it get sbetter in how scroogewins. He simply gets rid of Merlock’s amulet, taking it then throwing it. Grante dhe COULD’EVE used it for unimited wishes.. but it was too risky to do that and as we’ll see in the ending , Scrooge realized the Lamp was too powerful to keep around for much longer and too much of a tempting target for his rogues.. not that we see them this movie as the crew wanted it to bea ccesaible and thus kept hte cast to the main cast from season 1 and just made new vilians and a new supporting character, but still. 

He does use his second wish though to undue the damage Merlock had done and the bin and clan mcduck are returned to duckburg in good condition.

Time for our ending, which is genuinely and wholly touching. With the lamp too dangerous to use Scrooge considers just sending it to the earth’s core, which horrifies the kids as it’d mean Gene would be trapped there forever... if the molten lava iddn’t just outright destory the lamp and probably kill him. But Scrooge.. isn’t the bastard he likes to potray himself as. Instead he makes Gene into a real boy. He gives the poor kid HIS wish, which designrates the lamp and undoes all the spells... so Merlock is PROBABLY dead but he does return for some games so maybe not? 

And so we end on two things: Gene happily playing cops and robbers with the boys finally free.. and Birth of A Nation grabbing all the loot he can in his patns and running off. Ha ha ha thank god i’m done with this prick. And no I will not be looking at his ducktales episodes unless I have to. 

Final Thoughts:

This movie is OKAY. It has a solid plot, gene is a wonderful chacter, the animatoin is pretty prettay pretty good, and the voice acting as usual is excellent, with Rip Taylor being the standout. 

But as my paragraphs of rage shoud’ve made Clear Djonn is just BAD. Easily the worst character i’ve encountered in my year of reviewing and some of the worst writing i’ve ran into. And that writing includes a goblin man voyerstically forcing two teenagers to make out, making jokes about santa renaming himself Clem the sceneafter he tearfully confessed to letting the elves and ms. claus die, accidental transphobia via the u-men, and Bryan Lee O malley thinking we needed more than one volume of Julie Powers being around.  This was disgusting, even by 1990 standards and especially by 2021 standards and it drags the film down considerably. Without it the film is okay.. with it the film is just VERY hard to watch any time he pops up.  He made getting through the movie a nightmare and while I pause a lot becaue it’s a bad habbit I did so more simply because as I said earlier in the review I could not stand him. 

It makes it a hard film to recommend. If you can stomach the racisim, then it might be worth it, but be aware of what your putting up with going in. But if you can’t.. there’s no shame in that, it’s carbombya levels of bad. Which yes was a real fictoinal country. It was so bad Casey Casem quit transformers over it. True story. So yeah, it’s an okay film, on par with the series at it’s best for the most part.. but Djonn just spoils it for me. 

If you liked this review, like it, share it around that sort of thing and if you want MORE disney movie reviews, in addiiton to the goofy movie one later this month, if you help me hit my 25 dollar stretch goal on patroen.com/popculturebuffet, i’ll do reviews of the Recess, Proud Family and Kim Possible MOvies (Well so the drama anyway), so help me out would you and i’ll see you at the next rainbow.

[properlysocial]

Dear, not 🦌, Volkswagen,

I have been delaying this letter to you because the perfect letter existed in my online files. I am still locked out of my account that holds my important information. I need it to retrieve my online doc that had a formally written letter to you contained within its virtual chambers. However, I am now realizing that, after a month or so of trying, it will likely never escape its prison. Without too much aloof dancings around the subject I’ll put it up straight and forward, I want to travel the USA with you, and my dog.

I want to take a bus/RV like transportation ( which you have ) across the states in an effort to reconnect a wiser generation with a new and aspiring demographic I’m sure you have heard of called, Generation Z.

How you ask?

By demonstrating the economically friendly, time to reflect, digitally less, incredible road less traveled. It’s a route onward to a new destination across this beautiful country and includes some benefits for us both. Now I know you’re German and although a sea separates us, we’re all human who globally are seeking something better for our world today. Your bus represents something great in America. Scooby-doo, the 70s, That 70s Show. (See where I’m going?)

I want to believe that despite a dark horizon, a hope lingers in our future. It’s a hope that generation z is abundant with and it rests between the emotional and creative intellect of their inspiration. Their hope comes from what could be as they look forward into a time that reflects our past. A simpler time, free from digitally influenced passings of time.

I am no blind bat about todays society. I understand that we live in a digital world. I think there is a way we can bridge the divide between generations, politics, and religion. I believe it starts by creating a campaign that’s captures this unclaimed space of traveling by RV/bus marketed to gen Z. It’s a space catered to those seeking hope.

Properly put, it just makes sense.

You’ll receive:

- a video on how I DIY one of your Volkswagen Buses into a mobile small home.

- a “tour guide of America” made readily available for your distribution in any format of your choosing

- a new audience to grow and maintain for generations to come as lifelong consumers

What I need:

- a bus (obvi)

- your approval

- your trust… and maybe a credit card with limits

Together, we can bridge the divide between the generational scars my country now bares across its chest. We can help heal for a better and more accepting hope that our division is viewed by others as our most unique trait. I believe scars are not ugly marks from pain, instead they reflect a memory of time and a lesson taught by this going through this crazy thing called life.

You’ll also benefit me as I launch my new and exciting business. A marketing agency, Properly Digital Design, where creative strategies capture lifelong audiences and develop a better love.

Please let me know your thoughts!

[perseusjackson-jasongrace]

the story of us

this was requested by @fantasylover16. I genuinely had so much fun with this thank you! I hope you enjoy. Also I said nb jack frost rights and I meant it.

masterlist; my links

This is a story about two people.

One died three hundred years ago and has been alive since then. They have white hair, whiter than the stars, than burning light, than heaven itself. They have blue eyes that remind you of cracked ice in melting winter. They have ivory skin, some say like porcelain, it's more like liquid opal.

The other is twenty two years old. He has black hair, like jet fuel, and midnight. He has green eyes that hold oceans lost to time, that hold memories. He has brown skin that reminds you of cool forest floors and water glistened rock.

This is a story about who they are.

"Percy!" His roommate shouts from the kitchen. "Get your butt down here and tell me if the blue skirt goes better with these glasses!"

He laughs as he pulls a sweater over his heads and grabs his phone, slipping it into his back pocket. He feels the press of his pen as he pats himself down to make sure he has everything and when he is satisfied he bolts down the passage and stops short of the kitchen where Hazel Levesque is parading in front of their grand mirror on the opposing wall. She is decked out in black platform ankle boots, white fishnets that draw out the colour of her skin, slightly dark than his, a bright blue skater skirt and a soft pastel blue crew-neck not unlike his own.

"You Hazel Levesque," He grins bright and unrestrained, "Are a vision."

"Yes," She mutters still swopping between two pairs of clear-framed glasses and scrunching her nose, "But is it enough to bring my crush to their knees?"

"If Reyna doesn't bow down to you I think we can assume she's in desperate need of glasses."

"Well then maybe I should take both pairs and offer her one." She muses, pulling at her afro distractedly.

He snorts, turning to the counter and grabbing a bowl and whatever cereal he can reach first.

"Well," Hazel turns to him, he can see the smile she's trying so hard to hide, "Shall we be off then?"

He blinks at her, blinks again, points an unsure finger at his chest.

"Oh you don't expect me to brave Reyna on my own do you? Besides we're matching today it'd be quite ridiculous if we went out separately."

"But—" He looks to his bowl, as barren as the desert, "But my cereal?"

"I'll buy you breakfast on the way!" She waves the concern off, grabbing his hand and pulling them both out the door.

Despite their height difference, she makes it look far less like he's letting her pull him and far more like she has the strength to straight up carry him across the country.

"Hazel," He giggles, "Slow down."

"I can't Percy," She shakes her head vigorously, practically running through the park next to their building and into the bustling streets beyond. "If I don't do this now I'll lose all my courage and spend eternity in self-damned misery." Her brown eyes, turning honeyed as they catch the sun through the round glasses framing her face, flash bright and bold.

He stops them, pulling her in for a hug, unable to stop the laughter shaking his body." You have never been a coward Hazel Levesque. No matter the day, time or outfit you have always been brave enough to stand up and do what's needed. And telling Reyna you have a crush on her is just another battle you absolutely can win." He pulls them apart, setting a steady green gaze on her excited one. "Now let's get some coffee, and a mint tea for you because you're hyper enough as it is, and then we'll go find the love of your life and I can finally show you the google-doc I have for your wedding."

She strangles his ribs in another hug and then takes a deep breath as she steps away. "What would I do without you Percy Jackson?"

"Let's never find out," He smiles, slinging an arm over her shoulder and directing them towards the Chaos House.

As per its namesake, walking into the café is like being lost in a crowd of sleep-deprived, adhd kids all connected to caffeine IVs. In short: it's chaos. Its their favourite place on earth.

Being hit with a wall of noise after the quiet of awakening nature feels like being sucker punched directly in your ear canal. Percy cannot help but grin as he takes in the racing patrons and the sound of coffee beans being ground and the smell of cinnamon and honey and endless activity.

They immediately spot a group of their friends and bolt for the booth they're all squished into.

"Reyna isn't here." Hazels voice is pitched with panic, "Oh gods what if she's sick today? What if she fell in a ditch on her jog this morning?" She stops right in the middle of the café, brown eyes wide. "What if she knew I was trying to do this and decided to stay home today to avoid seeing me?"

He grabs her arms already shaking his head. "My darling, I need you to take a deep breath. You are spiraling."

Wildness is still tracing her expression but he feels her shoulders rise and fall as she gulps air.

"Okay," He says gently, "Now we're gonna go to our table, have a good time with our friends and if and when Reyna shows up you're going to tell her how you feel and I'll meet you back at home so you can let me know when the wedding is."

She smacks his shoulder gently, nervous giggles escaping her. "Alright fine. I hate when you get reasonable. It's very disconcerting."

"Good thing it's rare," His lips twitch, and they finally start towards their friends.

A loud chorus of hellos and how are you’s ring around his head as they get nearer and he feels right at home amongst it all.

"What's up losers?" He flops down next to Jason, pressing a shoulder into the blondes side in a hug.

Annabeth sits next to the blonde, squished between him and Piper, a leg over Jason's thigh and her hand intertwined with Piper's. Frank is on the opposite side, a casual arm slung over Leo's shoulder. Hazel squeezes in besides Leo and sighs dramatically.

"What's wrong Levesque?" Piper frowns, reaching over to clasp the girl's hand.

"She's feeling put out because she had something very important to do today and her plans are being delayed because a certain someone isn't here."

And just as their friends start reassuring and ribbing her in equal parts Percy's phone rings. With a frown he pulls it from his pocket, as he gets up and waves to say he'll be back in a minute.

"Hello, this is Percy Jackson."

He's not paying attention to his surroundings as he listens to the person on the line so when his shoulder slams into somebody he almost topples to the ground. When he turns around to say sorry there is nobody there; his frown only deepens but then the voice on the phone is pulling his attention and he makes his way outside.

This is story about they meet.

The conversation is a whirl of information about his upcoming course and what his supervisor needs from him. By the time he ends the call and tucks the phone back in his pocket his whole body feels like it's taken on the sky all over again. He has the urge to check if another grey streak has graced his hair. Instead he leans against the wall, ignoring the way his clothes catch against its roughness. He can feel the cold seeping through the cracks in the brick and into the threads of his sweatshirt.

He looks down, pulling his arms over his chest in an attempt to keep the warmth in but as he takes his arms away from the wall he sees the frost outline of his fingers. A clear, already melting handprint marking the brick like a graffiti tag. He steps back, away from the wall, to find his whole body outlined. It reminds him eerily of the chalk markings they do at murder investigations. He's not entirely sure this isn't prophetic.

The frost, little beads of ice skittered in shape, is melting at a rapid rate but the colour catches Percy's eye. It's not the usual dulled, muddy ice that coats his windows in the morning and sits atop the grass each night. It is blue, bright and pure, and looks... happy?

He's definitely going insane. The lack of coffee is getting to his brain and he has officially going mad. He should go inside and get warm and sit with his friends and have 3 espresso shots in a row.

But the phone call is still rattling his nerves and he can't bare to face the café without all his wits about him. So he studies the melted frost outline, curiosity moving him forward to trace it with his fingers. He doesn't expect to feel cold like winter mornings and snowball fights and sleigh rides coursing through his bloodstream. It's shocks him right into a new state of being. It reminds him of a poem his mother used to say at the beginning of each winter. The poem was long enough that he was always asleep by the end of the last verse but he recalls the first part clearly now

Jack Frost was in the garden;

I saw him there at dawn;

He was dancing round the bushes

And prancing on the lawn.

He had a cloak of silver,

A hat all shimm'ring white,

A wand of glittering star-dust,

And shoes of sunbeam light.

The thought is so ridiculous Percy has to laugh. It bursts out of him unexpectedly but once he starts he cannot stop. It feels like the world has turned on its side but he's still walking upright. Everything is slightly dizzying but strangely amusing from this angle. He laughs harder, ribs aching, cheeks stiff, and eyes bright. He's sure people are staring at him like he's mad but he cannot stop. Until he stumbles over the pavement and is falling to the inevitable crunch of his facial bones.

It happens almost in slow motion. He sees the ground coming towards him, bubbling up like it's going to swallow him whole. He stared it down, refusing to close his eyes, as if challenging it to hurt him, to take him as he goes. But then hands, freezing cold even through his layers of clothing, wrap around his waist and he is being hauled up in a rush of wind and dizzying speed. He bumps into a hard chest and feels as if he's stepped into a freezer.

"Hey," A voice low and playful crackles through him, "You okay?"

He turns around slowly, and is not at all prepared for the site he is greeted with. There is so much all at once, startling and glowing and fracturing. His eyes catch an warm icy gaze, blizzard white hair, pale skin, cold-kissed lips, hands running with blue veins and silver rings.

"You okay?" The stranger repeats, looking at him with concern.

He honestly doesn't know if he has the ability to talk. His mouth opens, his throat bobs, but words are lost cargo.

"Can you hear me?" The stranger asks, accompanying the question with sign language.

Percy responds automatically, raising a fist and moving it back and forth; his head accompanies the action but still no words come out.

They smile at him, and start signing another question. He doesn't bother to stop them, tell them they aren't deaf, he can hear, he just can't talk. He's speechless.

Are you okay? They sign.

He nods, and the words stuck in his throat finally tumble out. "Yes, yes," It is croaky with overwhelming emotion, "Thank you for catching me. I’m sorry I uh—" He doesn't have any respectable excuse for being mute for the entire first half of their interaction. He is just completely struck by everything the stranger is.

"Ah so you can hear me," The stranger laughs. He decides the sound is what makes stars. "Well I'm glad you're okay. I'm Jack."

Percy snorts. This cannot be real. Ice, him thinking about Jack Frost, and suddenly his saviour's name is jack? What has the universe been doing with its time to plan this?

“I'm Percy," He stares at them curiously studying the snowflakes that seem to cling to their floppy white hair despite the snow season being weeks away, and the blue eyes that hurtle him to the Abraham lake in Canada. A holiday his family had taken a mere year ago and one of the most beautiful places he's ever seen.

His demigod senses are peeking out their window, as curious as he is. The action puts him on high alert. His instincts are usually only alerted when he's in danger or............. in love.

"What are you?" He cannot stop the question. His mouth has a self-controlled function and no way to override it.

Jack raises their brow, "What are you, Percy?" His name sounds like luxury rolling off the stranger's tongue.

But the question throws him off guard and before he has time to drool over them again he is pulling his pen out and twirling it between his fingers anxiously. "Are you here to kill me?"

That barks a laugh from Jack, who looks so entirely amused he can't help but wonder if he can frame the moment to keep with him forever; a brow quirked, a slight dimple on their right cheek as their smile grows, and bunched freckles as their nose scrunches slightly.

"Get a lot of assassination attempts do you?"

“You have no idea," He feels his eyes roll in annoyance, an automatic reaction after all these years.

"No Percy," Jack says softly. It brushes across his skin like cool paint and snowy pine leaves. "I am here because the moon told me to be."

"The moon?" He sputters, "What do you mean the moon?"

"I mean exactly that. I talk to the moon and it answers."

He can feel his legs grow weak. "The moon— the moon— the....... moon," He mutters, staring at Jack.

They are silent as he attempts to compartmentalize his thoughts. "You know what?" He finally speaks, "That's not the weirdest thing I've ever heard. The children of Demeter talk to grain so this isn't that far out of reach."

Jack just looks at him with a patient, gentle smile on their face.

"So what are you? A child of Selene?"

"I am not a demigod." They shake their head. "I was chosen by the moon three hundred years ago. I am the spirit of winter."

The silence stretches between them like taffy. He isn't sure he's heard this right.

"You're—" He cannot even bring himself to say it.

"Yes, I'm Jack Frost."

Percy's legs give our from under him. Jack is not quick enough to catch him but he lands on a pillow of snow right before he bruises his knees. "You're Jack Frost?"

"Yes. And you are Percy Jackson."

"How—how do you know?"

"I've been alive for a very long time. I know a lot of people."

He just hums, trying to wrap his head sound another layer of myth and fable that makes up the fabric of the world.

"Why are you here?" He finally gutters out. "I mean I know the moon told you to come but why?"

"I uh have a theory but I need to ask something of you in order to know if I'm right."

He frowns, staring up at the stranger. No not stranger. Can you even call someone who's been around for centuries a stranger? What are they a stranger to? They have seen and heard and learnt and loved more than he ever has or ever will. It's more like he is the stranger. "What do you need me to do?"

"I just need you to summon water for me."

A thousand questions sit like caught snowflakes on his tongue but he let's them melt instead of spilling them into the world. Instead he gets up and concentrates on all the water sources surrounding them.

A reservoir one hundred miles away, fire hydrants near bursting with unused pressure, a small pond in a small park about five miles south, and of course the ocean in front of them, no more than fifty miles within reach.

"How much do you need?"

"Give me fifty liters."

He closes his eyes and imagines the pond, the water rippling within it. He imagines holding it in his palm as he would a basketball ball. When he feels a cool sensation wash over his skin he opens his eyes once more and sees a swirling blob of water surrounding his hand, dancing to the beat of his pulse.

"Is this enough?"

"Plenty," They smile and then their hands are reaching out and as if the water knows they're calling to it, it bounces over in little bubbles. As it touches their fingers a ray of light bursts from the contact and it turns to ice. Jack sucks in a breath, watching in amazement as the water freezes and hits the ground in a flurry of snow.

"What?" Percy cannot hold in his curiosity any longer. "What is it?"

"The moon was right." They look at him, eyes sparkling with something more than awe or curiosity.

"About?" He prompts.

"We're soulmates."

This is a story about their destinies.

"We're what?" Percy whispers. He has never gotten loud when he was surprised or angry or sad. He has always been soft.

"I usually need my staff to solidify water but if I use elements touched by my soulmate I can do it without aid."

"This is ridiculous!" He sputters. There is absolutely no way this is real. Seriously? Soulmates? He would laugh if he wasn't so outraged.

"You don't believe in soulmates?"

"It doesn't matter what I believe in!" He growls, "This whole ordeal is completely insane."

"What would it take to convince you Percy Jackson?" Jack just smiles, it is shining with happiness like it hadn't before.

"I have no idea because I have never heard of or encountered a soulmate." He hisses.

"Do you know why you can see me?"

He shakes his head, thoughts swirling faster than the hurricanes his further looses.

"Because you believe in me."

"I thought you had control over who sees you and who doesn't?" He raises a brow.

"Only with children. I can choose to show myself whether they believe or not. I have the ability since enough of them do believe." They say. "But adults are different. If they don't believe I cannot make myself appear to them. I am simply a ghost of their childhood past."

"I don't understand." Percy cannot wrap his mind around this. "How do you know you can only make ice out of whatever water I touch?"

Jack looks around for a brief moment before catching sight of something behind them. In a split second they are there and then they're back.

"Watch," He pours the water from the bottom he'd nabbed over his hand. It falls to the floor as liquid as it had started out.

"That doesn't prove anything, how do I know you're not just making sure you don't turn it to ice?"

"I cannot touch anything without freezing it, especially water." They worry at their bottom lip with their teeth, thoughts flying across their face. "It's like your friend Leo." They nod their head towards the café where Percy can still see his friends snuggled into the booth. "He doesn't necessarily turn everything he touches to ashes but he will always leave a warm imprint no matter how or what he has touched."

"How do you know that?" He gapes.

"Immortality gives you a lot of time to know the world." They shrug. "Now do you believe me?"

"I don't know." He answers truthfully. "I mean if we are soulmates..." He tries to form the question into some semblance of sense and order. "Does that mean I'm tied to you? That we have to like I don't know get married and spend eternity together?"

"No," Jack says gently, "No you can deny this bond if that is how you feel. It does not mean anything except that the universe put our souls in the same constellation. We are free to pick and choose who we love."

“And how will it work if we do decide to get together?” He frowns, “I will age but you will always stay the same.”

They look at him, head tilted, ice eyes bright. “But you know that’s not true.”

Everything in him barrels forward like a tidal wave. It cannot be. No-one knows. Not even his mother. “What isn’t true?” He will play this carefully, like the strings of a harp. He will not let his life crash through the ground.

“Why are you hiding it?”

“I’m not hiding anything.” He is adamant in his stance. He will not bow.

“You are denying the life you chose.” Jack considers him. “Why?”

“I’m not denying anything.” He huffs, “I’m just taking it slow.”

A snort bursts of them, arrogant and amused. “You are taking becoming a God slow?”

“I want to live with my friends before they figure it out!” He cries, all the fear and terror and worry burning through him.

Jack moves closer, presses a cold hand to his shoulder. “It is okay to be scared and angry and worried but do not forget that you are worthy of the title and you should wear it like a crown, not a burden.”

“There is always some burden in this much power.” He is bitter. He is right.

“Come,” Jack pulls them together, “Go meet your friends.” The hug is so cold but comforts him to the bone. “And when you are ready to make a decision, just whisper my name and i will answer, no matter where i am, or how far apart we are.”

He studies the person before him, beautiful and strange in an inviting sort of way, like no matter how much he learns about them he'll always want to know more. "Well you are very pretty."

They laugh, and the sound lights up the ocean inside him. "Thank you."

“Live Percy Jackson.” Jack Frost whispers.

And then Percy is standing outside a café, an icy wind dancing between his fingertips, and the impression of a freezing hug still clinging to his clothes. He realizes he feels happy. He feels safe.

This is a story about their love.

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

[image id: a poem by John P Smeeton titled "Jack Frost in the Garden" the poem reads:

Jack Frost was in the garden;// I saw him there at dawn;// He was dancing round the bushes// And prancing on the lawn.// He had a cloak of silver,// A hat all shimm'ring white,// A wand of glittering star-dust,// And shoes of sunbeam light.

Jack Frost was in the garden,// When I went out to play// He nipped my toes and fingers// And quickly ran away.// I chased him round the wood-shed,// But, oh! I'm sad to say// That though I chased him everywhere// He simply wouldn't stay.

Jack Frost was in the garden:// But now I'd like to know// Where I can find him hiding;// I've hunted high and low —// I've lost his cloak of silver,// His hat all shimm'ring white,// His wand of glittering star-dust,// His shoes of sunbeam light"

the background is a light blue and white marble. end id]

Tags: @fantasylover16 @queen-of-demons-and-hell @nishlicious-01​ @leyontheway @caffeinated-croissant

[vtforpedro]

health update- long post

so we are still trying to figure out all my health shit. I just now started to lose a couple pounds again but still feeling bloated and crampy every day. my right arm looks slightly swollen and hurts + my purple nail beds that literally sparked this entire thing way back on dec 20th, 2019 or w/e that no doctor has acknowledged have gotten darker and now clearly noticeable to other people. been seeing it for nearly 16 months myself but I stopped asking after like a year cause they ~couldn't see it~ in bright ass medical offices and didn't bother investigating further cause You Seem Anxious™ n e ways, I had to call the paramedics on march 29th cause I got so lethargic I felt like someone had drugged me. could barely sit up, speech was slow, could NOT open my eyes, felt like it was hard to breathe. took me three minutes to stand up with a paramedic's help AND I knew if I tried to walk I'd fall. almost fell twice in a row a week beforehand, tho the fatigue wasn't as severe. sorry if I've mentioned this already I don't fucking have any brainpower anymore to remember what I've talked about and haven't have experienced two more bouts of sudden, extreme lethargy, the pain/swelling in my arm isn't going away, purple nail beds, etc etc. so went to my PCP and barely got halfway through explaining everything that was happening and she's like 'yeah so I want you to do labs today' and sent a referral for a vascular ultrasound. so every artery/vein from the big ones in my neck down to my arms and to the tiny ones in my fingers sooo my labs became available for me to see tonight in the lab portal, but my doctor set me up for an appt on monday to 'discuss them' and I was like ok either the labs or the vascular ultrasound is abnormal. OR BOTH yeah, it's probably both. I'm sure doctor's hate that we can view our labs before talking with them but I actually like having an idea of what's wrong instead of being blindsided lmao I knew I had leukemia before my doc told me I did and it was much easier to handle after sitting with it for a few days beforehand so yeah pretty sure I'm really vitamin d deficient, if I'm reading it right, which she was concerned about, plus, again if I'm reading it right, I have a whole ass, brand new incurable autoimmune disorder that honestly sounds like it sucks more than the fucking cancer I have c: c: c: I don't know 100% if I have this but it seems pretty likely and would explain a lot of things going on (not the head stuff, which is very likely still IIH, but the bloating + inability to lose weight, which can be helped so I can continue losing weight to hopefully help the fucking IIH) my body is just. breaking down and trying to kill me at every turn, I swear. like what's the point anymore, nothing ever gets better lol I have no life to live, just chronic disability that's agonizing day in and day out. what's. the. fucking. point. this can be 'managed' but will always steadily worsen over time because it can't be cured sooo,,,,,,, I don't want to do this anymore, I truly don't. I've been telling my mom for six years every time I turn a corner it's something worse and that was for psychological trauma, but now it's turned into trauma caused by debilitating and declining health issues. I don't want to do this anymore did labs on monday for my hematologist to check where the cancer numbers are, I expect that one to take a while to get back. if the cancer numbers are detectable, I can't even treat it (and don't want to since, as my hema put it, the treatment can't be worse than the disease and chemo tried to kill me like three times) yet another thing I could've possibly been treating 16 months ago (third potential thing but You Seem Anxious™ sure delays diagnosis, seems like they should fix that, huh???) as an aside, this is the second time I've read POSITIVE (reference range: NEGATIVE) on my labs and it's not a great feeling guys NOT GREAT AT ALL all of this is happening during a pandemic so I haven't seen my family in over a year and I've seen my brother like twice? since last march? I kinda feel

like I'm never going to see them again at all. haven't eaten in my fave restaurants or gone to a movie. idk it just really feels like these aren't things I'm ever going to experience again got three MRIs scheduled on the 16th to see if my chiari/anything else has worsened. it feels like it has. I'm losing mobility in my neck and it's becoming harder to walk, so if that's any worse or if brain surgery is recommended, idk what I'll do cause I'm not doing that :) it's too risky considering everything else. I'm constantly stuck in a place that no matter which direction I go I face further harm, so what can even be done? I'm sorry. I'm sorry these are always depressing and hopeless, but I don't know how to feel hope anymore. we'll see what my pcp says on monday, but it's not looking good I'm truly sorry if I bring you all down with these posts. it's the only place I can put all my messy thoughts and feelings without feeling judged. thank you, all the same, for listening and offering words of encouragement and hope where I don't have any love you all very, very much. thanks for always being there for me <3

[sonderthroughthestreets]

@robbesdriesen you chose 4! So here it is 😌💫

4. “I can’t believe you!”

Dialogue prompts!

Edit: it says he’s halfway across the world and that’s because he was supposed to be in New York but I’m dumb and wrote Paris 🙈

✧ Happy one year anniversary of us being friends bb!! ✧

He was flipping pages back and forth and not a single word was going into his head.

It was raining outside, the pitter-patter of the droplets hitting the window, slowly making their way down to the pane and the sky was as grey as ever, clouds engulfed in each other blending into a hazy wash. Robbe thought it some cruel pathetic fallacy mocking him for the way he felt because he felt rather gloomy on this particular day. His mother was out and wouldn’t be back until later in the evening and though he had some studying to do this weekend, he still felt restless and incomplete.

It also didn’t help that the love of his life was halfway across the world right now.

But it was okay. It had to be.

Because when Sander had told Robbe about this brilliant opportunity to showcase his art internationally, he couldn’t contain his excitement and the sparkle in his eye as he envisioned it all already. His face had lit up completely because “Robbe you don’t understand out of all the students, they only choose three!” and “This is like the opportunity of a lifetime” and “This could mean so much for my career, it’s gonna be so great I can feel it in my bones.”

Then came the doubt. “But what if I’m not good enough?” and “What if they don’t like my work and I slaved away for these pieces for nothing and what if this was all a mistake and they hadn’t even meant to choose me?” and then finally as he had looked down, his eyes losing all that spark, “And it means leaving you.”

Sander might have thought that Robbe didn’t understand the weight of those words, but he did. He knew that even though Sander was leaving now for about three weeks to London, New York and Paris, a week in each city, if he was successful, he’d move onto bigger things. He’d gain publicity and he’d be asked to be present in more showings and if fate allowed it all, then pretty soon he wouldn’t be here much or have much time for him. But Robbe was ready to except that because this was Sander’s dream. This was literally what he’d been working for this whole time. It would be a shame to let it go to waste.

“You should go,” he had said, encasing Sander’s hands in his. “You have to go because Sander, your art is breathtaking and it deserves to be seen and even if it means leaving, I know you’d do the same for me.”

And Sander had squeezed his hands back, his heart and gut wrenching at the thought of it all and with the utmost sincerity, with absolutely no hesitation, he’d whispered back, “I would.”

So, he’d packed up for London, the first city in his mini tour, and he’d endured his mother’s fussing while simultaneously mentioning how proud of him she was and he’d trapped Robbe in the longest hug he could possibly maintain before boarding his plane, his head peeking back at the gates, bleached hair falling over his forehead.

That was about three weeks ago and Robbe had just learned that Sander’s stay would be extended for one week more. While they’d FaceTimed whenever they could, Robbe couldn’t stop the ache in his chest, the burning longing that tingled as soon as he woke up, lingering still after a night out with his friends, soaking into him as he fell asleep. And he still felt it now as he sat there at his desk, textbook open but his thoughts diverting to soft hair, the lashes upon his green eyes, the moles on the side of his face. Just as he was about to try to really focus on the letters of the page to get that feeling out, he saw his phone light up beside him.

It was Sander calling him and he felt his soul replenish a little at the sight of his name.

“Hey,” he smiled into the greeting, lifting his phone up to his ear.

“Hi, Robin,” Sander’s voice came through, deep and raspy and filled with a static haze.

“You’re not gonna FaceTime me?” he asked him. He heard more static, some shuffling around and it was a while before he responded again.

“Uh no, no FaceTiming this time,” replied Sander, the hint of a smile already present in his voice. “I mean we won’t need to for now.”

Robbe was now suspicious with his cryptic words.

“What are you up to?” he asked, knowing his boyfriend was capable of the most outrageous shenanigans. And even though he was technically in Paris right now, that didn’t mean he didn’t send him videos of the stupid shit he’d be doing in the hotel lobby.

Unfortunately there wasn’t enough time for sight-seeing and Sander had said it ‘keeps him busy’ to which Robbe had laughed and said ‘don’t fuck it up and get in trouble.’

He still hadn’t answered as more shuffling proceeded to sound through the phone.

“How’s your day been?” Sander asked. He probably hadn’t heard him.

“Good. Would’ve been better with you here,” Robbe chuckled.

“Same.”

There came more shuffling and breathing, like Sander might’ve been lightly jogging. It made Robbe all the more curious.

“Sander are you out right now? What exactly are you doing?” he asked again.

He heard his laugh shimmer through the phone, low and enticing, and it made him long for him even more.

“Patience, Robin,” he said and Robbe could practically see the smile that was probably stretched across his lips.

“Precious coming from you,” he teased.

Sander let out a real laugh now, faded and a bit distorted from the line that for some reason didn’t seem to want to connect very well today, but Robbe still wanted to drown in it.

“Just...hold on a sec. I’ll see you soon,” he said.

“What does that mean?” Robbe asked. But Sander was already bidding his goodbyes. “Sander, no, what do you mean?”

He sighed as the line cut, but then suddenly there was a loud knock mimicking the beat of his heart and the look of confusion across his face turned into anticipation as he slowly put the pieces together.

Opening the door, he failed to let his eyes adjust to what he was seeing. He even blinked a few times just to be sure.

No way this was real.

Because there was Sander standing in the doorway in his black leather jacket and his Doc Martens splattered slightly with mud, his bleached hair a little damp from the mist of the rain and his eyes shining bright with a smile.

‘Missed me?” he said.

And Robbe couldn’t help but pull him in, pull him closer and envelope him in an embrace that was sure to break a few ribs. His arms wrapped around him tight, wrinkling his jacket as Sander’s hands returned the gesture, holding his back, fingers grasping softly at the fabric of his dark sweater. Robbe breathed him in. He was almost certain he was forgetting what Sander smelled like and the shirts he’d loaned him weren’t nearly enough. The thing about rain though, is that it always heightened a smell, made it stronger, heavier. The faint scent of leather and cologne and something sterile that smelled of airport clung to him. He buried his nose in the ends of his hair and squeezed him even tighter. He felt Sander do the same, face hidden in his dark curls.

Robbe slowly pulled back but only to lightly smack his arm.

“I can’t believe you!” he exclaimed with the biggest smile on his face, his sentence breaking off in laughter. “You said you’d be back next week.”

“Are you really yelling at me because I came back early? I’ll go back to Paris, the hotel was pretty nice there,” Sander pointed his thumb toward the door.

Robbe just laughed with him, shaking his head, not quite believing this was reality and not a dream.

“I missed you,” he said.

Sander pulled him in, his finger delicately running along his jaw, his thumb tracing the supple skin of his cheek. His eyes flickered from the deep browns in Robbe’s down to his lips still curved at the corners, a residual of a smile. He leaned in and then just waited, playfully delaying this moment.

Fucking tease.

When his lips met him, it was soft and airy, light and feathery, like a barely-there press against his skin. He took his time with that first kiss. The second one, however, devoured him and deemed him senseless. It was urgent and needy, it was tongue tracing into his mouth, it was unspoken words of their love, it was deep and driven and maddening, maddening. Over and over and over and over again.

They pulled away with breathy sighs, lips lingering near the other. Robbe pressed another light kiss to his mouth and their hands travelled slowly, Robbe’s from his neck to his shoulders and Sander’s from his hair to his waist.

“I missed you, too,” Sander whispered into him.

He gave him one more sickeningly sweet kiss.

“Come on, let’s get you warm and then you can tell me all about your showcase,” said Robbe, reaching up to brush a strand of hair from Sander’s forehead.

They got settled in and Robbe heated some leftover lasagna from the fridge and they ate leisurely under the glow of the kitchen lights. Or rather, Robbe ate while Sander took a forkful only to settle his hand near the plate as his other one gestured the words he was saying, talking excitedly about his trip.

“It was amazing, Robbe! There were so many great pieces and the others who were chosen, Elise and Oscar, right? Their stuff is so cool. I think I took some shots before we left, but some of them should be up on the gallery website anyway and I was like,so fucking nervous,” he then looked over at Robbe. “Like I truly wished you were there to hold my hand and I reached for it before realizing you weren’t there and instead I almost held hands with Elise and then she gave me a really weird look after,” he rambled.

Robbe just watched him with all the love in his heart and all the adoration in his eyes.

“That’s cute,” he said leaning closer to him, palm in his cheek.

“No, it was so fucking embarrassing,” Sander gave him a look.

Robbe refused to believe Sander got embarrassed about anything, but after being with him for more than a year, he knew that he tended to get really nervous when it came to art showings. It’s not that he cared about his art being on display, it was mainly the people and the atmosphere and some sense of pretentiousness he couldn’t handle.

He sighed, finally taking a bite of his lasagna.

“Enough about me, though,” he said. “How have you been?” he asked like he didn’t text him that every day. “And where’s your mom? I didn’t get to say hi.”

“I’ve been good. Just studying and missing you and my mom’s out for a bit but she’ll be back,” Robbe chuckled.

Sander nodded.

Then, something settled in the air as Sander forked his lasagna, sticking the metal in the dish this way and that. His lips curved into something, some sort of bittersweet emotion Robbe couldn’t get a grip on.

“It was good, Robbe,” he said quietly, talking about the showcase. Some longing was seeping into his voice. “I mean it was really good.”

Robbe put a hand over his as his stood up with his empty plate (he’d been done his food for a while).

“That’s good,” he smiled, trying to convey with his eyes that he meant it and that whatever insecurities or doubts or irrational fears he had were all in his head because Robbe supported him. He knew how much he wanted this.

He walked over to set the plate in the sink, a chore for later once Sander finished his slice, and then he stepped back slowly grabbing onto Sander’s shoulders, his navy hoodie wrinkling under his fingertips and swung his legs around him as he sat his in lap. Sander let him, holding his thighs to balance him.

“I don’t know what I’ll do if I actually make it. If I actually somehow become an artist,” he said as Robbe leaned into him, his face drawing close.

“You are an artist,” he smiled.

“Yeah, well,” Sander snorted. “A well-known artist, then.” He brushed his nose across his, playfully nuzzling it up. “I’d take you with me next time,” he said.

“We both know you can’t do that,” Robbe let out a rumbling laugh.

“I’d take you anywhere with me,” Sander now stroked his arm, pushing up the sleeve of his sweater a bit, exposing the skin on Robbe’s wrist where his heart pulsed rapidly.

“Hhmm.”

“Would you come with me?”

“You know I would.”

And then there weren’t words left between them anymore. The space had closed and it was lips on each other once again, heads titling and mouths tasting. They mostly tasted of salty and savoury, a bit of leftover grease from the lasagna. But Robbe wouldn’t have it any other way. He wrapped his arms around him tighter, smiling into the kisses he gave and received.

And it went like so for a bit.

Being absolutely overwhelmed with a need for other. Waves inevitably crashing into rocks as they crashed into each other. Some hollowed form being filled by each other, moulding and meshing and weaving and intertwining. It was some kaleidoscope of colours bursting at the seams, some devastating desire and want.

It was

I love you

Me too

I missed you.

I know.

I miss you.

I’m right here.

And suddenly, Sander was lifting him off the chair, barely making it to Robbe’s room in the mess of giggles and kisses adorned with love. His plate of lasagna was still untouched but it was fine because Robbe got the feeling Sander was hungry for something else.

A hunger filled with yearning and joy passion and warmth.

And like he could imagine him saying...

Who was better than Robbe to satiate such a feeling.

[thoushallnotfall]

God Bless the Children of the Beast - Part 9

Previous // Masterlist

Pairing: The Dirt!Tommy Lee x Reader

Word Count: 3.5k

Notes: Sorry this one was a bit delayed compared to my like, everyday/every-other-day release schedule here lately; it was a busy weekend.

This one broke me y'all. Stick a fork in me because I’m done. RIP my sweet baby; I didn’t intent to get this attached to Razzle what the fluff man! (Fun fact: I listen to Snow Patrol’s ‘Run’ when I have to write sad scenes and it makes it 1000% worse! ���)

Warnings: Major Character Death (ugh god I was not looking forward to this), Drug Use, Depression

1984

You had initially had some reservations about leaving to go on tour with Razzle and the rest of Hanoi Rocks: worried about leaving the boys in Motley Crue, worried about what it would be like to travel with another band you barely knew, worried about where your relationship was with Razzle. However, after being with them for a few days you had found yourself settling in nicely.

You and Razzle hadn’t seen each other since your first night together, and despite talking to each other constantly you were a little nervous to see him again. You tried to tell yourself it was a good thing; butterflies meant you actually liked him, right? You desperately wanted things to work out, but then what if he wasn’t feeling the same way? What if you were like just another groupie to him? You knew that wasn’t true, but of course you couldn’t help but wonder about it all the way to his hotel.

As soon as you laid eyes on him standing in the lobby waiting for you, you felt your heart leap straight through your chest. When he saw you, he smiled brighter than the sun, and you felt all the worry and fear you had melt away.

Things with Razzle had been going well from that moment on. You were officially dating, which was a strange change for you, but honestly you didn’t hate it. Razzle was fun and charming, and now that you could finally spend time together you found yourself wanting to be with him more and more. You spent most of your time with him when he wasn’t performing, and he didn’t seem to mind; just as taken with you as you were with him. You were both so naturally comfortable around each other–it reminded you of how you were with the boys in Motley Crue.

You were so wrapped up with Razzle you had nearly forgotten to call Mick that first night. You kept that conversation brief; simply telling him you’d made it alright and that’d you’d call him again later. After that you tried to call him or Vince in a similar fashion to how you had called Razzle before: any time you made it to a new hotel you’d called and check in, just to see how they were doing and make sure everything was going alright.

Vince and Mick were always happy to hear from you: Mick would make sure you were doing alright, and Vince would want to tell you all about the crazy antics they were getting up to while you were gone. Tommy and Nikki were another story. They had apparently gone on quite a binder after you’d left; pissed off and hurt that you’d ‘abandon’ them for someone else. You and the rest of Hanoi Rocks weren’t sober by any means, but you weren’t going nearly as hard as Motley Crue, and you were worried maybe they were taking things too far.

You had noticed the partying was getting worse before you’d left, but you hadn’t said anything. You trusted them to know when to quit. Maybe you should have tried to say something; maybe encouraged them to cut back a bit. Now they were going harder then ever, and it was your fault. You hated to think about something happening, but you knew Doc was there; surely he’d keep them in line. He wouldn’t let them get too far out of hand.

Surely it wasn’t that bad.

You never talked to Nikki when you called. You asked for him, but he was too stubborn to talk to you. Tommy eventually caved, sheepishly agreeing to talk to you. He apologized for what he’d said, saying he was just upset you were leaving and that he had been scared he was losing you. You admit you were still hurt, but you forgave him–how could you not? He was still your best friend, and being apart from them all made you realize even more just how important they were to you. You missed them all after just a few days apart.

So when the days had turned to weeks and the boys started asking you when you were coming back, you weren’t sure what to say. You missed them all–even Nikki, with his attitude shift over the last few months causing you nothing but grief–but you didn’t want to leave. You were getting along well with the rest of the band, who were treating you like a little sister; and while they liked to party they weren’t nearly as crazy as Motley Crue, and it was kind of nice to be away from that atmosphere for awhile.

The more pressing issue was your ever-growing feelings for Razzle. The more time you spend with him, the more sure you became that you didn’t want to be apart from him. He was already talking about taking you back to London with them when the tour was over, and to your surprise you had eagerly agreed with his plans. You wanted to go; even if part of you was torn.

As much as you found yourself falling for Razzle, you couldn’t deny you missed your boys. If things continued to progress with Razzle and you went with him to London, would you ever come back? Of course, don’t be ridiculous. That’s the thought that would cross your mind, but you already knew Razzle was planning to ask you to move in with him; that would mean you’d rarely get to see the boys. They’d been your whole life for 3 years–Nikki was the only family you had. You wanted to live your life, but could you really leave them behind to do it?

—

December 8, 1984

After Michael had fractured his ankle, Hanoi Rocks had taken a break to let him recover. You had taken them to a Motley Crue show in hopes the bands would become friends–and because you desperately wanted to see the boys. They were excited to see you; even Nikki, who was trying his best to hide it by playing it cool. They mingled with the Hanoi boys, and you made sure everyone had a great time. They all ended up becoming friends by the end of the night; though Tommy still couldn’t seem to get along Razzle.

So when Vince decided to throw a party at his mansion, he made sure to invite them along.

You watch from the living room, drink in hand as Tommy begins talking up the pretty blonde actress. What was her name again? Heather something–whatever, you didn’t even like T. J. Hooker, it was so overrated. You scowl as she flashes him a brilliant, beautiful smile. You feel someone’s arms wrap around your waist from behind, a set of lips press a row of kisses up your neck.

“What are you up to, beauiful?” Razzle’s breath tickle’s your ear and you giggle, turning and wrapping your arms around him.

“Just waiting for you.” You say, smiling at him. He smirks back, before leaning down to kiss you; you can taste the alcohol on his tongue.

“Were you?” He laughs. “It’s a good thing I came and found you then, innit?” He leans down and gives you another quick kiss. You thought about the first night you met Razzle; how he’d come and found you when you were alone that night too.

“Hmm, yeah it is.” You agree, laying your head against his chest. You listened to his heart thumping loudly in his chest, overtaking the noise of the party. He rubbed your back lightly.

“Listen love, I’m just gonna go wif Vince real quick since we’ve run outta beer–but I’ll be back before you know it, yeah?” He says, pulling you back so he can look at you.

“What? Why can’t someone else go?” You pout.

“I’ve already told Vince I’d go; it’ll be fine. I’ll be back soon, and we can pick up right where we've left off.” He says, running his finger under your chin. You sigh.

“Alright; just come back soon, okay?” You say, and he smiles.

“Of course; no where else I’d rather be.” He leans down, giving you a quick kiss, then leaves to follow Vince out to the car, the two grabbing at each and laughing as they run out.

With Razzle and Vince gone and Tommy busy, you move through the party looking for someone else to talk to, when you spot Nikki sitting alone on the sofa.

“Surprised to see you slumming it with me instead of hanging with your boyfriend.” Nikki says when you sit down next to him. He snorts a line of coke off a tray that’s sitting on a coffee table in front of you.

“He’s off buying booze with Vince.” You reply flatly. He was obviously trying to pick a fight, but you didn’t want to fight with him right now. You didn’t get to see him enough; if you could avoid fighting with him by ignoring his jabs, you would suck it up and do what you had to do to have a conversation with your brother.

“That explains it.” He replies with a smirk, sniffing as he leans back on the sofa. “So what about Tommy then?”

“He’s busy flirting with some actress.” You say, scowling. Nikki gives you a knowing grin, and you snatch the straw from his hand, moving to the table to take a hit of coke. Nikki chuckles. “What?” You ask as you wipe your nose.

“When are you going to stop all this bullshit and just admit you’re in love with Tommy?” He asks, a smile still playing on his lips.

“Damnit, not this again.” You groan, laying against the back of the couch. “I’ve told you and everyone else a thousand times before: I don’t have feelings for Tommy, okay?”

“Uh huh, sure you don’t: and I’m the Queen of England.” Nikki jokes.

“Well, your majesty, you can think whatever you want; I’m not in love with Tommy, and that’s all there is to it.” You say, crossing your arms. “Besides, I’m clearly already in a relationship. I’m happy with Nic–I love him. I don’t know why you keep pushing this Tommy crap when I’m literally already in love with someone else.”

“Didn’t say you weren’t; doesn’t change the fact you’re also in love with Tommy. It’s not my fault you’re too stupid to realize it.” Nikki shrugs. You roll your eyes, standing up.

“Whatever Nikki.” You say, walking away.

—

You mingle here and there; talking with Sharise, Mick, the other guys in Hanoi Rocks. Eventually, you settle back on the coach and wait for Razzle and Vince to get back. It’s taking them longer than it should, but you try not to worry; they’ll be back soon.

You keep waiting, but they’re still not back. The party starts to thin out more and more as the night goes on; guests finding rooms to pass out in, people leaving to head home, some finding others to go home with. And still you’re waiting, the dread slowly growing like a cancer in the pit of your stomach.

Eventually the other guys float in one at a time to join you. Mick, then Tommy, and finally Nikki. They all sit with you, the four of you waiting for your friend to come home. No one says a word about it, talking around the subject, afraid that speaking their fears will make them real. The three of them know it’s worse for you; waiting not just for Vince, but for Razzle too. You silently lean your head against Tommy’s shoulder, closing your eyes as he wraps his arm around you.

In the early morning, you see the lights from the police cars shine through the windows, and feel your body grow numb. You suck in a shaky breath, grabbing hold of Tommy’s hand and squeezing with all you have. Each knock on the door echoes through the house like the tolling of bells. Your hearts sinks into the pit in your stomach as you watch Sharise open the door, two officers standing on the other side. Mick and Nikki stand up to go to her, but Tommy stays with you on the couch; you can’t move. You can’t breath.

You don’t hear what they say, you just see Sharise go down; Mick catches her before she hits the ground. Nikki looks at you, a mixture of grief and pity spread across his face. He comes back to the sofa, looking down at you.

No, don’t say it. I don’t want to hear. Please.

“Nikki, what’s going on?” Tommy asks, squeezing your shoulder as he holds your hand. Nikki’s eyes dart over to you nervously, before he quickly looks back at Tommy.

“There was an accident.” Nikki replies. “Vince is gonna be okay, but he’s been arrested. The people in the other car are in critical condition. And Razzle…” He looks at you, clenching his fists as he takes a breath. “I’m so sorry y/n. Razzle’s dead.”

You feel the tears on your cheeks without even realizing you were crying. You look at Nikki, clenching your jaw as you shake your head.

“No; no Nikki that’s not–” Your breath was coming faster, even though your lungs felt totally empty. “That’s not right, he was just here.” You whine, Nikki moves to crouch down in front of you, taking your hands. Tommy held you tighter against his side as Nikki looks up at you.

“Y/N, I’m sorry, but he’s gone.” Nikki says calmly. You look down at him, your eyes spilling over with tears.

“No, nonono, please…” You turn your head and bury it in Tommy’s shoulder. He moves to wrap you in his embrace, holding the back of your head as you weep into him.

“I’m so sorry y/n; it’s gonna be okay.” He repeats to you quietly as he gently rocks you in his arms. “It’s gonna be okay, I’m here.”

You hold onto Tommy for dear life, afraid if you let go of him you’ll spiral out of control. It doesn’t feel real; your mind tries to rationalize a million different ways it isn’t true, where he’s alright and you’ll be together and all of this will just be a bad dream. But it hurts too much to be a dream; the pain in your chest worse than anything you’ve ever experienced in your life. You’re vaguely aware of Nikki coming up to sit beside you, his hand on your shoulder as it shakes from the sobs that rack your body.

You sat there and cried for who knows how long. You would become aware of the events of the house; Mick helped Sharise get to her room to rest, then had the unfortunate job of telling Razzle’s bandmates about the accident. You heard them all come through towards the front door, you heard them all stop and stare at you as you cried, felt the pity like a wave crashing into you as they looked at you.

A sad, bitter part of yourself would later wonder if they blamed you for this; if you hadn’t been a part of Razzle’s life, he never would have been there, right? You would understand if they did. After all, you did. This was your fault. That’s the thought that echoed in your mind as the tears dried on your cheeks and you finally detached yourself from Tommy.

You introduced him to the boys, your brought him here, you let him go. He was dead and it was your fault.

—

You felt a sickening sense of numbness overtake you after Razzle’s death. People talk at you, but their words sound so far away. Nothing seemed real anymore; like you were floating in a dark sea, just moving from one place to another, never really knowing exactly where you were going next.

You’d gone to see Razzle’s body in the hospital despite protests from the boys. His bandmates were already there when you’d arrived, mourning their loss together. You felt like an intruder; an outsider in their sacred space. But they all came up to you, each of them making sure to comfort you despite they themselves needing comfort. That’s not something you could give them now, your heart so broken you weren’t sure you could even feel anything again.

They told you not to go in; that you should wait until the wake. You’d gone anyway. You told yourself you needed to know for sure, needed to see him for yourself to prove he was really gone. Deep down, you thought maybe you were just punishing yourself for what you’d done.

—

After the hospital, you wanted to do nothing; just keep floating in your darkness, letting the current carry you wherever it may. But you had to pack, had to get ready for the funeral. You were going to London; just thinking about it made you sick. You had been so excited, planning a trip there with Razzle only weeks ago, and now you were heading there alone for his funeral.

You look at the bag of white powder on your nightstand as you zip up your suitcase. You wanted to pack the cocaine that was barely keeping you afloat through this whole ordeal, but you couldn’t risk getting arrested through customs. You would just have to get high before you left and hope the alcohol on the flight would be enough to keep you up until you found something in England.

The coke wasn’t working like it used to; you were taking more and more, but it wasn’t the same high you used to get. You needed something more, something else. You didn’t know what; you just didn’t want to feel this way anymore–tired, depressed, like the whole world was caving in on you. Everything hurt, and it all just felt so pointless now.

—

On the way to the airport, you had the taxi take you to the jail. You hadn’t spoken to Vince since the night of the accident, unsure exactly what you would say, but you didn’t want to leave the country without talking to him.

You sat on one side of a plexiglass wall, staring at the empty seat on the other side. Vince is brought in dressed in an orange jumpsuit and handcuffs, and is sat down in front of you. Apparently, you were not who he was expecting to see. His eyes go wide as he stares at you from across the glass divider, your face a mask as you look back at him. He looks tired; bags having formed under his normally bright blue eyes, and an ashy sheen to his tanned skin. You probably don’t look much better, your eyes perpetually blood shot and puffy from crying and a lack of sleep.

You move your hand over to grab the telephone attached to the wall, and Vince quickly does the same. He looks at you with pain in his eyes, clearly unsure of what he should say.

“Y/N–” He starts, tears stinging the corner of his eyes.

“Orange looks awful on you.” You cut him off. He looks back at you, dumbfounded. He starts laughing, tears still in his eyes.

“It’s never been my color.” He replies. You stare back at him through the glass. He sighs, “Y/N, what are you doing here?” He looked nervous, like he wanted to know, but was afraid to hear the answer.

“I’m leaving for London today.” You say, tears welling up in your eyes despite your best efforts to hold them back. “For Nic’s funeral, and I just, I-I just wanted to see you, before I left. I didn’t want you to think–” You stop, looking away as the tears began sliding down your cheeks. You had gone over how you felt about Vince after the accident a thousand times, and it was always the same.

You knew what had happened was wrong; they never should have left, drunk as they were. It was a stupid mistake. But it was just a mistake; an accident. Razzle had been just as drunk, and you’d let him go, knowing how drunk everyone was at that party–how drunk Vince likely was–and you’d just let them leave. Why should Vince shoulder that mistake alone?

You took a deep breath, a turned back to him.

“I didn’t want to leave without saying I don’t blame you for what happened, Vince.” You say, looking back at him with as much resolve as you can muster.

“Y/N, I, I don’t…” You see tears start to spill out of the corners of his eyes. He looks down at the desk.

“I know, it’s okay.” You say, the first bit of comfort you’ve been able to give since Razzle died. “Listen Vince, I have to go; I just– just wanted you to know, okay?” You say, standing up.

You leave feeling a little lighter than when you came in, though the heaviness inside you still feels too immense to carry alone.

[ihavenocluedude]

Destruction of clothes

Agent Whiskey x Female!Reader

A/N: I finally finished it! Look between like insecurities of publishing smut for the first time as well as insecurities about writing it for the first time for a while (I tried once a few years ago to write it, I’m pretty sure I deleted the things from my google docs just a short time afterwards). But I really hope it’s good, I think it is?? 

Summary: You would never really confess to finding Jack 'Whiskey' 'cowboy douchebag' Daniels attractive, well that was until he helped you after a mission injury, starting to care for him and starting to not call him a douchebag, bitch or anything like that. And after that it was just a slippery slope to 'attacking' him on the jet after a mission. With both the mission injury and with the 'attack' there was two types of very different and light destruction of clothing.

Word count: 2 571

Ko-Fi 

Link to reading it on AO3 

Warnings: Smut, hair pulling, fingering, curse words so often you wouldn’t believe, fingering,Vaginal sex, like a second of a handjob tbh, also reader isn’t a total sub but neither is Jack. 

“Don’t you dare touch me!” You held your injured leg away from him, hissing your words in pain, you had worked with Whiskey for years now but it’s not like there’s any trust between the two of you. After all seeing him in the cocky cowboy mood all the time wasn’t really a stable ground for becoming friends. “Look I’ll just call for Ginger or something, go- Agh- go finish the fucking mission!”

“The mission can wait, your leg can’t. Can you just- Just let me help you dangit!” Of course he wasn’t sincere or careful with the situation but rather abrupt and demanding. As always.

“Fuck off Whiskey” You punctuaded your words with harsh breaths as you started to take off the flannel shirt you’d kept around your waist. The mission had for once let you be casually dressed, as tourists. Which was perfect considering the current situation. Ripping the flannel apart with shaky hands, wrapping the piece of fabric tightly above the bullet wound in your thigh. Well ‘thank fuck’ it wasn’t just that injury too, thank fuck to the scumbags that led you into the forrest. Not only had they put a bullet in your thigh but they’d also made you dislocate your knee when you fell. Wonderful.

“Go finish the fucking mission, I’ll still be here when you come back. Worst- worst case scenario I’ll call for backup to come save m-”

“Maybe you didn’t notice sweetheart, but you can’t really reach Ginger or backup out here, can you hear Ginger right now? Because I don’t. That bullet wound alone is an injury that needs to be treated now, I’m bringing you to the jet.”

“I hope you know that I hate you.” You muttered as he walked closer to you. Whiskey had done the mistake of trying to fight you once, whilst training of course. And while the man is good at fighting and he has his god damn whip and lasso, you were quicker. Did you truly hate the man though? No not really. However denial was always the biggest part in your co-workership “no you don’t find him attractive, no the things he does with his whip and lasso aren’t sexy, no you’re not falling for a man with a god damn cowboy hat”. But when it came down to the truth, yes you were attracted to a cocky man with a cowboy hat and a lasso.

Getting back to the jet? Easier said than done. Whiskey had slowly walked up to you until you told him to ‘hurry the fuck up’. You let him carry you like you were a sack of potatoes and you honestly felt bad for him.

Carrying someone for an extended amount of time = not easy.

“Are we there yet y’ think?” You were almost becoming bored, the pain of your left leg of course always there. But it’s not like you haven’t been shot before. You had sort of learned how to ignore it, sure it wasn’t foolproof and sometimes you just can’t ignore it. But at the moment all your attention was directed at the man carrying you. His eyes were always so dark, his nose was unique and just so beautiful in side profile. You tried looking away but what the hell were you supposed to look at? The trees? The sky? Why not just appreciate that you could maybe stare at Whiskey without as much suspicion than usual.

“Soon.” He muttered out, carrying a person isn’t easy and you did offer to walk when he had been carrying you for a while. But he refused… So here you were, still in his arms.

--- — —

When you did get back to the jet there was no time to waste really, Whiskey did what he could and that was that for now. Whiske-Jack had for the first time told you to call him Jack during his little examination of your leg. Sure it may be because you were calling him a bitch rather than calling him Whiskey, but still, you take your invitation when you can.

Not being able to see Jack flying the plane was a disappointment. He was always so focused, so in the zone and… unfortunately, he looked extremely hot while doing it. He was in control.  His moments in the pilot seat were the only moments you’d maybe admit to yourself that you were very very attracted to him. But at this moment you couldn’t see his tongue dart out to wet his lips absentmindedly, or see his eyes relaxing and narrowing every once in a while, no instead boredom was flooding your brain. Staring at the ceiling, laying on the small couch with your leg resting, tilted upwards.

— — —

As you got better from your injuries, he stuck around you. Every god damn step of the way. You had tried pushing him away, didn’t work, you tried to talk seriously to him, telling him to ‘stop pretending to care’ to which he replied: “Sweetheart I ain’t pretending”. It was upsetting, irritating and also just heartmelting. And during all of this, he was starting to open up, talking about his life before The Statesman agency, about his wife’s death and the therapy The Statesman agency had offered.

He started coming to the little medical bay of the headquarters to eat his lunch by your side, talking about what you like to do within your very little free time. Once in a while there’d be a ‘deep‘ moment, a moment where the two of you had actually shared parts of yourself no one knew about, it made your blood turn to ice. Were you really letting him get to know you? Was he just trying to gain your trust only to let you down?

Jack was after all one of those agents who’d risk anything to get the job done, on his own terms of course. But still he would do anything so what if gaining your trust, what if it was all just some ploy?

— — —

The day it all snapped, the moment where the relationship between the two of you changed forever, was the same day as a small mission. Nothing extreme, just you and Jack. During the flight to the mission you sat there in the co-pilot seat, practically staring at him. This time you did get to see his tongue dart out to wet his lips absentmindedly and his eyes relaxing and narrowing every once in a while. Jack however knew you were watching, of course he knew.

“Y’good over there darlin’?” He smirked, it wasn’t the first time he had called you a nickname but each time it made a shiver run down your spine. A small nod and your eyes darting away as an answer was all Jack got for now. You hadn’t intended to stare so heavily, but what can he expect, sitting there looking like that. He was a true distraction, which is why missions with him nowadays could become so… frustrating.

Trying to seduce some high-powered man during his gala was way harder when you heard whispered encouragements from Jack through your comms. Pure distraction. It was like he was doing it on purpose, whispering ‘good girl‘ when getting good information… Not fair.

During the mission he of course repeated this new habit of his, whispered encouragements, accompanied by nicknames that he knew affected you. So when you had finished talking to Ginger for the night, turning off your comms, that’s when you ‘attacked’, pushing him back against one of the interior walls of the jet. Your lips lingering just a small distance from his but not giving him the satisfaction.

“You do that on purpose, don’t you?” Your voice was determined but it sounded more airy than you had thought it would. Jack didn’t even seem surprised by this sudden ‘attack’, a smirk sitting confidently on his face.

“So what if I did darlin’?” Jack winks before placing his hands on either side of your upper neck, pulling your lips to his. Thankful that it all had just finally snapped together, you moved quickly. Taking his tie in your hand before tugging him over to the rather small couch in the jet. It wasn’t even a question of convincing him to sit down, but rather him crashing down himself, making sure to grab your legs so you’d land on top of him already, your free hand going to his shoulder.

“Then will you just take me already?” Your answer was of course rather delayed as your mouth had been occupied with his for the most of the time. His right hand’s fingers seemed at home in your hair but he did seem rather cautious about it. Well at least until you put your hand over his fingers, tightening the grip on your hair, lightly adjusting his hand to pull on it slightly, an airy moan emerging from you, showing your approval. “Perfect. Just like that baby.”

“Shit darlin’, you’re going to be the death of me.” His voice was practically a whisper as he stroked your thigh gently, leading his hand further and further towards your inner thigh. Silently thanking Peggy the fashion advisor who works for the firm for the fancy underwear you ‘had’ to wear for the mission. Even if she was annoying, some times… She came in handy.

One hand on his neck, wanting to grasp his hair harsh in your clutches, the other hand sitting on his shoulder, making sure his chest was now pushed up against yours. “Make me yours.” It wasn’t even a question as it came out of your lips, bringing out a groan from Jack. His finger finally really taking action and moving them slightly quicker to your core. Teasing a finger over the slit on top of the fancy and now soaked underwear, his smirk was almost more teasing than his fingers, that were now applying some more pressure. Your hips started moving automatically against his fingers.

“How long Jack?”

“How long what?”

“How long have you thought about me like this, on top of you, gripping your shoulder. How long baby?” Your words were more demanding than you had thought they’d be. The hand on his chest slid down to the bulge in his pants, lightly tracing it. Jack was a demanding man, he was usually the one in control, now there was becoming a balance. The sounds spewing out of his mouth was just egging you on, however you made sure to shut him up with your mouth. While his fingers slid the fancy underwear to the side, lightly circling your clit with his thumb and with his other fingers teasing where he soon would enter.

“Way too long Princess.” He grumbled against your lips as they parted, a gasp rising out of your mouth as he slowly eased a finger inside of you. It had been… a while. However the reactiveness Jack was getting out of you just made him want to hear more of the small gasps, the sound of his name, ‘Jack‘s slipping out every once in a while and the moans that were almost fighting their way out of you. The want to pleasure Jack as much as he was pleasuring you made you take off his belt, open his pants and take his dick out. Swiping your thumb over the tip before starting to move your hand slowly.

It didn’t take long at all for him to be able to sink another finger in you, going slightly quicker, your legs quivering at the pleasure. Not being able to completely focus on the moving of your hands, Jack took this moment of ‘weakness’ to slowly move the two of you to laying down on the jet’s couch instead of straddling. Taking a second just to look at you, starting to up his pace again after slowing down to be able to move you,

“This is art darlin’, you are art.” He growled as he started moving his mouth down to your collarbone, leaving a few small kisses every where; on your jawline, on your throat, slightly below your ear, and finally sucking onto your skin where your throat and chest met. Your hands resting and gripping his shoulders.

“Would you just hurry the fuck up- Shit Jack!” Slowly muttering out curse words as he focused his fingers on and around your clit instead, . However that wasn’t what you wanted, trying to sit up slightly or trying to pry his pants off with your legs and feet. “Get these off, now”

“Would you just relax?” He muttered back before slipping his fingers away from you, the cold air in the jet finally really hitting it as he dragged the panties off whilst backing off and dragging off his own pants as well. “Are you sure-”

“Yes.”

“Princess, do you have any-”

“-No but I’m protected.” You didn’t want to wait for him to finish his sentences, even if him saying ‘princess’ sounded heavenly. Finally the pressure of him grinded against you, before finally entering slowly. Jack had noticed the pressure around his fingers earlier, noting that it had been a while so as to go easy and slowly. Until you for probably the hundreth time in your life told him to hurry the fuck up. Like you had done on countless missions before and would do on countless missions ahead.

“Fu-uck.” He almost stuttered when he did finally slide all the way in, already applying a pressure to your clit with one of his hands as he knew he wouldn’t last that long. It had been a while for him too. Putting his other hand next to your head for stability as he started thrusting. Him feeling the tightness of you  and you feeling the fullness of him. Moans, groans and curse words were filling the jet quickly, Jack upping the speed of his thrusts, you clenching around him as you were starting to near your climax.

Finally reaching one of your hands to his hair, yanking his mouth down to yours to swallow his moans and for him to swallow yours as you climaxed. Putting a bit more pressure on your clit to make the feeling linger slightly longer, before he slid away his hand, not wanting to hurt you and instead grabbing the edge of the couch as hard as he could before speeding up his pace and finally reaching the edge you’d just been at and falling over it. His lips parting away from yours to instead suck at the skin of your shoulder, lightly digging in his teeth into the flesh.

“Well fuck, y’know Peggy’s going to be pissed at you.” You mentioned the fashion advisor as your breath finally calmed down a few minutes later, your brain no longer in the haze of Jack and realizing the small mistake you hadn't noticed earlier. 

“Hmm?” He hummed contently, resting his head on one of your shoulders, lying by your side, tracing shapes onto your other arm as he was almost on the brink of falling asleep.

“We never took off the dress, it’s expensive Jack.” You chuckled, Jack just shaking his head, about to slowly rise away from you before he felt your hands pressing against his back, pushing him back against your chest. Your voice lovingly explaining why a second later; “It’s already messy and… well sort of trashed baby, so don’t you dare leave me yet.”

A/N - It’s done! It’s finally done! Sorry for the really long wait, as I’ve mentioned this thing several times before. Hope it actually was like good quality as well. It definitely wasn’t rushed as you guys who’s seen the earlier posts know. Now Imma sleep, then tomorrow I’ll probably post part 5 of the Scotty x OFC ;) 

I will always love feedback so don’t ever be afraid to comment something or send me an ask, message or whatever. 

[otpnessmess]

Work Update: For You There’s Nothing I Wouldn’t Do

Hello! Long time no see to all of you who might enjoy this little story of mine. I thought I might post here to let you know there has been a change of plans with this fic. Some days ago I found out my original draft for chapter 5 had been abandoned offline in my laptop instead of google docs, which meant I found an entire draft for part 5 that was, well, a lot better than what I ended up publishing. I had been delaying chapter 6 because I wasn't entirely comfortable with the way the end had turned out and I didn't know why. I finally know what the problem was. I know it might be a waste of time to rewrite the entire chapter but I decided I will use that old draft and weave it into the newest one to hopefully produce an ending I am satisfied with, before moving on to chapter 6. I appreciate every single one of the comments I still get every now and then, I read them all and I am so thankful that someone enjoys the story I wrote, which makes me want it to be perfect. I will put all of my efforts into getting it right this time and I hope you understand why I'm doing this. I will delete this note once both new chapters are up and I will make sure to add a disclaimer before chapter 6 just in case. Take care, and see you soon. - Lis