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darthwheezely · 4 years ago

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grande - g.w.

Summary: George meets a mighty adorable barista in the new cafe on Diagon Alley and the man just can’t help himself... based off the song Coffee Girl by Johnny Socko! Sorry this took me absolute ages (9 days oops) to get out, guys :/

Warnings: DIABETIC FLUFF STUPID AMOUNTS OF CARDIAC ARREST INDUCING FLUFF UWU,mentions of sexism, Fred being Fred, cussing probably, alludes to sex, PG/PG-13

taglist or people that might like this but idk: @theweasleyslut @kitwalker02 @loony-loopy-lupinn @wand3ringr0s3 @gcdric @thehufflepuffwife @monoscandal @lupinsclassroom @whiz-bangs78 @vogueweasley @rogueweasleys @band--psycho @lumosandnoxwriting @oh-for-merlins-sake @amxrtentias @virgohufflepuff @vivianweasley

George Weasley didn’t sleep. This had long been the habit of his ever since he and his parents had discovered that his elder twin Fred had been an avid sleepwalker by age 4, then became a (minor) party animal in his Hogwarts days, and finally when he became the co-owner of one of the Wizard World’s most successful entrepreneurs and business owners.

The man hadn’t slept in about 18 years give or take. And days like this reminded him of it constantly.

It was a Saturday, the first of the month, and to boot, it was about to be Christmas in a little over a week. Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes was packed with everyone from couples window shopping, children in desperate need of fun now that school was out, parents trying to keep them in line, and even some old lady named Ethel (who swore she was part Veela, and therefore Fred couldn’t “escape her girlish charm.”)

“Ethel, you have an absolutely ravishing day, and don’t even worry about that moisturizer it’d be a waste of product on a natural beauty like you” Fred winked and kissed the old lady’s hand, George watching from the top of the steps rolling his eyes.

“Oh, Freddie, you know how to keep a lady young, don’t you? Oh - goodbye, Georgie! Have a good rest of your day boys!” She waved majestically to the younger twin on the stairs and he bowed royally in response.

“Bye, Ethel!” They both called as she exited the building, the bells flurrying in her wake.

“Georgie, mate, hate to say it but you are being uncharacteristically quiet and it’s making me uncharacteristically uncomfortable.” Fred said bounding up the stairs to meet him, chuckling briefly.

“Freddie, mate, hate to say it but I’ve had absolutely no sleep as of late and it’s getting to me. But I’ll be back up to my usual antics in no time.” He padded down the stairs, winking at a couple young ladies ogling him, sending them into a fit of giggles. Fred sat down on the middle step eyeing his brother carefully. It didn’t take a genius to see George wasn’t holding on much longer, the dark circles littering his eyes and the way he mussed up his already purposely messy hair just...didn’t comfort his older twin at all.

“George.” Fred sighed, George looking back at him, confused. He took his hands away from the merchandise Wonder Witch he’d been rearranging and gave him full attention.

“Take your lunch break early. And longer if possible.”

“Pffft, why would I do that when I have women to woo and boxes to juggle?”

“George.”

“Fred.”

“Stop, I mean it. You look half dead as it is, just go take a nap or get an espresso from the cafe down the aisle or something that reinforces the idea that yes, you are a human being and no, not a zombie.” Fred crossed his arms feeling suddenly a lot like Molly and dropped the cross. George pretended to ponder this tapping his chin, rather finding the mature brother role reversal funny as hell.

“Oh, alright, but can I still be a zombie when I get back?”

Fred hit him with a folder and sent him on his way.

-•-•-

You had just finished the lunch rush, finally being able to calm down and not have to worry about making one more goddamn Butterbeer Latte for at least another 20 or so minutes...until there’d be another rush. You grabbed a lemon scone, took off your apron and sat against the back counter. You inhaled the citrus scent, it was always something that you loved to savor, and took a bite.

The holidays for the Merlin’s Mochas, the cafe, had been absolutely atrocious so far. All you had for customers were angry businessmen, bratty kids and their upper class parents who let them run around the already small place being rude to everyone, your boss Lionel who had an affinity for calling every woman who worked there a “bitch” (...ok lionel) and to top it all off: you’d been pulling 9 hour days every day except sundays. Needless to say: you kind of super hated your job.

You had just finished your scone when you heard the door chime signal a customer, immediately wiping your hands on your jeans and restrapping your apron.

“Hi how can I-“ oh Jesus this is the hottest man I have ever seen. He was easily no older than 23, fiery red hair, a perfectly tailored striped terracotta suit, green tie, and the most gorgeous doe brown eyes you’d ever seen.

“How can you...?”

“Help you, ohmygod, I am so sorry I’m super-“

“Tired? Yeah me too...interesting how similar we are this early in the game hmm?” He winked at you and your knees felt too weak. No he was just a stupid hot customer that also was really hot and also? Was super hot. No worries, Y/N, just don’t die by 22 okay thanks.

“Very funny...wait are you-“ your finger led from him to the statue outside Wizard Wheezes, realizing a simple oh shit

“Yeah, that would be me. Or my twin Fred but we never really decided, that’s why he kind of looks like both of us mixed. Although we’re twins so we basically look the same anyway. I mean because were identical. Twins, yeah.” George, what the fuck is wrong with you, why are you sweating? She’s just a simply beautiful girl in a simply maddeningly purple coffee shop can you please breathe and not make yourself look stupid-

“Oh, wow! I’ve never met a twin before - not like twins are anomalies or anything it’s just so crazy. Science. Science is crazy” You closed your eyes and took a breath

“We should probably start over shouldn’t we?” You wrinkled your nose.

“That sounds much more redeeming than anything we both were about to say” George breathed out laughing softly, rubbing his hand through his hair.

“I’m George. Weasley. Like I said, I work at Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes, the shop over there, but I don’t think I’ve ever seen this place before...or you for that matter, I never forget a beautiful young woman.” He said smoothly, his heart steadily subsiding - something about you had the power to not only make him scared out of his mind, but also totally at ease.

You returned the smile, warmly, the blood rushing to your cheeks at his compliment and sticking your tongue to your teeth. “Well, George Weasley, of Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes I’m Y/N Y/L/N. And yeah, we’re new around here,” you leaned further onto the counter, realizing, albeit a moment too late that your eye level was directly with his abs now, and although he was wearing a suit...you could definitely tell they were there.

“We erm, just opened three months ago. It’s honestly a bit of a time to work here.”

“Oh and why is that?”

“Well, nothing like a blatant sexist to run an entirely female employed establishment and weird stuffy rich people.” Your eyes widened suddenly, and you felt like you had said far too much far too soon. But he gasp-laughed - laugh that ended as soon as it began and burst into a smile...like you had shared a secret with him.

“What the hell is he doing here then? Got a boy’s club to run in a purple coffee shop?”

“I mean you never really know these days, George, imposters are among us at every moment” you purred and pushed off the counter, meaning it as a joke but George’s heart screamed when he heard your name. As you moved to the other edge of the counter, he followed you.

“What a resourceful and cruel young woman, I am starting to like you, Miss Y/L/N.” He clucked. “And do you think of me like you think of Mr. I-Hate-Women-That’s-Why-I-Hire-Them?” He got inches from your face, smelling the coffee beans and vanilla extract that riddled your skin.

“Hmm...Mr. Weasley, I’m not so sure.” You coyly stepped away from him and took long strides to the far end of the coffee bar by the wall. George immediately felt a pit of flirtatious butterflies and (arousal?) something more in his stomach, jaw dropped, he followed you again. He pressed his hands to the counter in front of you.

“Well, how can I convince you?” He asked rather quickly.

“Hmm...” you leaned forward like he did before and his breath hitched in his throat “...let’s get you a cuppa first.”

-•-

“Wait, okay let me get this straight-“

“Yes?”

“You have 6 other siblings.”

“Yes.”

“...because your mom wanted a girl?”

“That-that would in fact be true, yes.”

You thought for a moment.

“So you’re telling me after she made it through you two-“

“-she still wanted to have more of us, believe me, it races through my mind daily.” He nodded vehemently laughing with you. You two had taken to the empty cafe at a table nestled in the corner, him sitting in a chair across from you on a bench. You had both been cracking each other up with stories from your childhoods, like how you both had managed to never know of the other’s existence until now.

He’d discovered that you had transferred from Hogwarts to Beauxbatons early on in your fourth year. You, a Hufflepuff, loved the quiet and soft landscape of the French school. You both had absolutely no idea the other existed. How? The world may never know.

He was brash. You were careful.

He was already flying when you were just feeling comfortable learning how to walk.

But you sat there with him for the better amount of an hour and a half, laughing and interrupting each other with memories of the school years you had, some weird and strange, and especially during fourth year, hard for George to talk about.

Ginny, his baby sister, had almost died. And as he said to you in a candid and highly vulnerable state: he blamed himself for almost letting her go to this day.

“I...I really do believe it was my fault.”

“George, it couldn’t have been your fault. Hogwarts is a big freaking death trap - you and I both know that,” you had said with an exasperated laugh, eager to make him feel better in any facet.

“Yeah, but...I’m her big brother. Yes, she has five other older brothers but...we were supposed to protect her.” He swallowed and blinked back tears. “It was her first year, for Christ’s sake, and I paid about as much attention to her as a doorknob would.” He had rolled his jaw and taken a gulp of his gingerbread latte (you had said it was your favorite, and he was loathe to try anything else) and you had softly draped your hand on top of his.

“If she’s as kind and loving and funny as you, I’d love to meet her.” You quipped, a small smile growing on your face in effort to soothe. He had smiled back at you, turning your hand over in his and drawing his digits lazily over your palm.

“Funny, because I was thinking the same thing.”

-•-

He had told you to close your eyes, that much had been true.

See, his coffee had started to get cold. So, like if you give a mouse a cookie, he’ll have to have some milk-

If you give a George a latte he will have to not only have another one, but also feel the strenuous need to show off for you and take you to his place of work. Naturally. And it was so lucky that by the time he’d proposed you leave, he even helped you clean and lock up afterwards.

Truthfully, it almost scared you how much he had seemed to care.

“Alright, Y/N, darling, I’m going to release my hands on the count of three, yeah?”

“Perfect, Georgie” you giggled. You’d legitimately only knew him for so long, but you just...you trusted him. He grinned widely, his strong hands only applying a slight amount of pressure as not to hurt you.

“Alright, then. 1. 2-“ he took his hands off your eyes and watched you adjust not only to light, but to your surroundings as well.

“3.” He breathed out taking in the way you smiled like a teenager, face alight with pure inundating wonder. You squealed and started to run around the store.

“Look at these! Pygmy Puffs - ugh they’re so adorable look at this one! Oh, oh - ‘Fizzing Whizbees’ - these look absolutely wicked! And Per- ‘Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder’?” You picked up the glittery stone in your hand, and heard a smooth voice perk up behind you.

“A real money spinner, that one.” You turned around and there was a man that looked absolutely identical to George, although entirely different in the same way.

“Handy if you need to make a quick getaway,” you heard George on the other side of you. He smiled warmly down at you, nodding his head up to look at the twin across from him.

“Y/N, this is my-“

“-older, much more attractive and fiscally responsible brother.” He winked and you blushed almost immediately. “Fred. Weasley.”

“Y/N Y/L/N. Georgie has told me a lot about you and the shop - absolutely marvelous this place is, I cant believe you two created so much in such a short span of time. Brilliant it all is, really!” George had started to flush, rubbing his jaw to seemingly take the red away from his striking face. Fred, upon hearing the genuine warmth from your voice and the unmistakable use of “Georgie” had a small, but highly distinct aha moment:

“Well, we couldn’t have done it all on our own, one of our best friends helped us out a good lot. But thank you, really...it means so much when other people see how much we do and-” he looked directly at George.

“-acknowledge the things we love, right George?”

“Absolutely, Frederick.” Fred had given him the look that seemed to imply: “please, God, make a damn move.”

“Well, Y/N, I’m going to be off and woo some ladies, have a biscuit and do some paperwork” he smiled wide when you giggled, already enjoying your company.

“But I hope to see you again, very soon, yeah? Please stop by whenever you can, we’re alwYs just down the street.”

“Freddie, for your company, I’m not so sure, I’m still deciding.” You quipped. Fred laughed heartily at that and looked at George.

“Georgie, I like this one.” George looked at you and winked.

“Me, too Freddie, me too.” You leaned back on your heels as Fred padded back up the stairs to the flat, now completely alone with George. You threw your arms behind you back and forth and took a long stride to George.

“So...what are you those?” You nodded up to the array of pink bubbles in a clam shape in the corner. He hummed and reached to grab your hand.

“Love potions - c-can I show you?” He raised an eyebrow slightly, but he felt his whole body turn to mush when you accepted his hand and nodded slowly. As he walked with you, you memorized the feeling of his callouses and veins, the way your hand curled deliberately in his.

You wanted to make sure if it was the last time you felt something like that, you had that memory with you for a while.

“Essentially, if you give these to a person they will temporarily have feelings of love and attraction for you. Depending of course on the dosage you use and the weight of the person in question.” He explained. You watched the way his suit jacket pulled taut against his back muscles and instinctively wanted to honestly just take the whole thing off-

“Hmm...I don’t know about these, Georgie.” You hummed mischievously. Your heart was pounding in your chest.

He scoffed placing a dramatic hand over his heart. “Am i being questioned in my own establishment, Miss Y/L/N?”

You rolled your eyes and hit his arm, bowing slightly at him. “Well, do forgive my feminine insolence, Mr. Weasley, it’s not often I meet such bewitching mad scientists like you.” You watched his face grow blank for a moment at your compliment and immediately wanted to throw up.

“George, I’m really sorry, I know we just became friends-“

“Do you mean it?” He took a step towards you. You swallowed finding again his perfect milk chocolate eyes. You nodded.

“Hell yeah I did, you’re smart...and wicked hot” you both laughed at that. He took another step, the distance being unbearably harder to live in as his digits found a piece of hair and wound it behind your ear.

“Well, darling, the feeling is quite mutual.” He said quietly, taking in the whole of your face. He wanted to crash his lips onto every possible nook and crevice of your face, collide with you entirely.

“We’re going to have to do something about that, then, aren’t we?” You gently nudged his nose with yours and wrapped your arms around his neck, his strong and powerful arms pulling you to him gently. He wanted you to feel him not to break under his embrace. He leaned down and brushed his lips up to yours, feeling you whine and let out a minuscule sound.

“Got you making noises for me already and haven’t even kissed you yet, hmm?”

Your eyes fluttered close and one of your legs made it’s way in between his, snapping any chance at loose air between you two out of the way.

“Please, Weasley, pants a bit small for you?”

“Keep talking like that and they might, yeah.” You two laughed softly and with a final look to your lips he closed the last gap.

His mouth was perfect. His lips ghosted over yours one last time before wrapping every part of himself onto your frame, your lips entangled in each other like you’d never be able to taste him again.

But it was loving and slow and sweet. He tasted like gingerbread lattes and pastries and cinnamon and licking into his mouth you could feel the spice. He moaned lightly into your mouth, sending your knees buckling. He dipped you slightly, a hand traveling to your lower back to keep you steady, and his other hand coming up to nestle under the nape of your hair. Your hands caressed his face, his chest, needless to say? You wanted them everywhere. You wanted him everywhere.

The kiss broke and you and George were left breathless in each other’s hold, your foreheads pressed together as he kept you slightly dipped.

“Y/N, I’m feeling a bit tired” he quipped hoarsely, pressing a brief kiss to your lips and onto your neck. You hummed satisfactorily.

“Georgie, you’re gonna need another latte aren’t you?” You set multiple chaste kisses to his lips and cheeks, feeling him rumble with a small giggle. He caught your mouth with his and you moaned slightly.

“I’m gonna need a whole pot, to drink you in, love.”

#George weasley #george weasley imagine #george weasley x reader #george weasley headcanon #coffee shop #Harry Potter #POV you get called cruel and resourceful by George Weasley #new kink unlocked

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tinyboxxtink · 4 years ago

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"Black Magic" *Part 12*

Ayyyyy I fixed it!

For those who missed it, I wrote this chapter also on my phone because apparently I'm addicted to this story I can't focus on my real life even when I'm out.

Also sorry this is short but it was written in a Target parking lot on my phone. And also-- I just wanna put off "THE" part. 😂😬😘

Part 11

Part 13

Tag list

@madamsnape921

@lolliepopsicle

@chasingeverybreakingwave

@milkshqke

@wanniiieeee

@word-scribbless

@gibbs274

@sassyada

@aprildecker-blog

@bookishfanfic

@stars-in-the-skies-world

@stars-trash-18

@omgsuperstarg

-----

Rafael shook his head, still reeling from your encounter. You had no idea what the hell you were talking about, he loved Olivia. He was sure of it. But the last thing you said nagged at him. Even if you had been some kind of crazy mind reading witch, that didn’t stop him from telling Liv about his father.

He had never told her, and if he was really honest with himself, he had no intention of telling her any time soon, maybe ever.

Why didn’t he want to tell her?

-----

Rafael decided to show you, he went straight to Liv's bridal room and knocked on the door.

"Yes?"

"Liv it's me."

"Rafa we can't see each other before the ceremony! It's bad luck!" She called through the door.

"Well it's more bad luck if we start this marriage with secrets." He replied.

Olivia's eyes widened: was he...was he going to tell her his middle name? All on his own? She KNEW you were full of shit

"O-okay just tell me through the door." Her eyes lit up with hope.

"No, I need to be looking at you or I might lose my nerve"

That was good enough for her! She swung the door open.

Rafael stared at her in awe, she had never looked so beautiful in all the years he knew her. He knew you were full of shit, he loved her completely.

"Liv I haven't been honest with you. My middle name isn't Antonio."

"It's not…?" Her eyes began to well up. It was happening. It was really happening.

"No, it's…." He paused and gazed at her. She was beautiful, she was perfect.... But there was no...safety.

"It's Ronaldo," he lied. "I just wanted you to have the right name on the marriage license"

"God damn it Rafael are you fucking kidding me? She yelled.

"What are you talking about?" Rafael was taken aback.

"Why can't you just tell me your real middle name? Why is that so hard for you?!" She yelled again..

"I'm sorry, you know that I'm lying? You know my real middle name?"

"What.. ? Yes...maybe, I don't know," she stammered.

"How do you know my middle name?" He asked.

" I, um...did...did you finish the flask I gave you?" She asked softly.

"....Excuse me?" Rafael asked suspiciously. He turned and walked back to his room. Olivia followed behind him quickly.

"You mean this flask that you supposedly gave me for our wedding day?" He asked, holding up a silver flask with his initials on it.

"You mean this nice loving gift, a token of your love on the most important day of our lives? You're asking me if I 'finished this'?"

"I.. well…" she stuttered.

"And what exactly is this Olivia?" He turned and headed to the bathroom of the groom suite.

"No Rafael, don't!!!" Olivia chase after him frantically.

Rafael opened the flask and poured its contests into the sink. To his horror and disbelief, a dark purple liquid poured out of it; as if it was purple and blue mixed together.

"Holy shit…" Rafael muttered.

"Oh my God!" he just stared in shock as the liquid dissipated down the drain. Olivia could only stand frozen in shock and couldn't speak.

"Oh my God, that girl was right wasn't she?" He stared at her.

"What girl? Was there a girl here?" Olivia quickly turned defensive. "Rafa you shouldn't listen to random ass people--"

"Oh no, fuck that Liv!" He screamed. Throwing the flask across the bathroom.

"What the hell was that?!" He gestured to the sink, now empty of the contents of the flask. "What the hell did you do to me?!

"Nothing!" She stuck to her denial. "It's just the color of the special liquor that I bought you. It's some kind of wine," She tried to think of a lie on the spot, but she wasn't great at it.

"Oh that is a load of shit!" Rafael scoffed while throwing up his hands. "I can't believe this...I can't believe some random ass girl knew more about me than you. She's right isn't she?"

"Rafa come on--" She started to speak, but Rafael wasn't hearing it.

"Oh no fuck that, fuck 'Rafa'. We're past Rafa, don't call me that!" Rafael screamed. "That girl was right, wasn't she? You made me forget her. I'm actually in love with her, aren't I?"

"No! You were never in love with her! That shit was fake. It was as fake as this!" She slapped her hand over her face after saying the last part inadvertently.

"Oh my God...This whole thing is fake. You manipulated my mind. You made me think that I was in love with you!" Rafael felt sick to his stomach.

"You are in love with me!" Olivia screamed. "You just needed to realize it," she added softly.

"And you wanted me to drink more so what? You could make me forget this ever happened so that I would marry you willingly? Like your little robot?" Rafael paced the room angrily.

"No I love you Rafael! That's why I did this! I did this for us!" She was crying now.

"That's BULLSHIT!" Rafael yelled.

"You didn't do this for me, you did this for you. You don't love me at all! If you really loved me, then you would want me to be happy no matter who that was with! I'm not your fucking Ken doll Liv! I'm not some guy you can just manipulate and tote around like some lap dog, doing whatever you say. That's not what love is!"

"Rafael come on, just look--- just, just drink this," she pulled out another vial from her bra. "Just drink it and you'll forget about this, and then we can be happy!"

"Are you not hearing me at all Olivia? Rafael asked her in actual disgust.

"You're still just trying to stick to your delusion? Don't come near me with that. In fact don't come near me at all. I can't. I can't even look at you right now," He started to storm out of the room but Olivia chased after him.

"Where are you going!?!"

"To get back what you stole from me!" Rafael yelled back, running out of the church.

----

You stood there in front of the penguins with Maria and Chloe just staring at them. It had gotten dark now. The tank was lit up, brightening the cave with its neon blue water. They looked so happy, just swimming and carefree, not a care in the world.

"Look at you guys," You sighed. "So happy, so innocent. You wouldn't lie to each other, you wouldn't manipulate each other, you just love each other unconditionally," You started to tear up.

"Oh honey…" Chloe came and put an arm around you.

"He's not coming, is he?" You looked at her with tears now dripping down your face.

She looked down at her watch; it had been about an hour since you had shown up there. That was about 20 minutes from the church. So it had been a while for Rafael to change his mind.

"I mean... I don't want to be Debbie Downer or anything but--" She have you a pity look.

"30 more minutes?" You pleaded with puppy dog eyes.

"Alright…." She looked at Maria who just shrugged sadly. Then she linked an arm in yours, laying her head on shoulder. "As long as you need."

------

Rafael was in an Uber, heading towards Central Park. He couldn't decide how he felt at the moment. He was enraged with Olivia for fucking with his emotions, his brain, his heart. How long has it gone on for?

Now that it had been a while since his last "dose", he was starting to realize he couldn't remember yesterday, or any of the past week, and it scared the shit out of him.

How could she do this? How could she just take memories from him like taking cookies out of a cookie jar? And with absolutely NO remorse? She was STILL trying to control him even when he was confronting her! Did she ever really love him? Were they ever really friends? It was like losing a lover and his best friend in one fell swoop.

And then there was you. Maybe you really had been Liv-- his lover and best friend. But she had taken that too, he had no memory of you whatsoever.

Even now he struggled to even remember your name. He was pretty sure you had said it in his dressing room, but all the shit he had in his system still left him all foggy. He did remember you knew his middle name, his Broadway dream.

You knew about Eduardo, how could he have told you about Eduardo? How important were you to him? How could he just forget that? He wanted that back, that safe feeling you were going on about. You were absolutely on the money about him never feeling safe once his Abuela had moved in with him and his mother. His mother's house never felt safe, even after Eduardo left.

His Mami was wonderful, but he never felt like he could ever fully be himself with her, because she wouldn't accept him. Which is why he never felt comfortable sharing himself completely, ever.

He wanted that safe feeling so badly….he wanted his feelings back so badly. Even if they were someone he supposedly didn't know.

"Uh….hey man are you ok? The Uber driver's question made him realize he was crying. The driver was awkwardly glancing back at him.

"Ahem...yeah no I'm fine. Can we uh...can we go any faster?"

"Hey man I can't control New York traffic," he gestured towards the stand still grid of cars.

He was still 5 blocks away. He wasn't entirely sure just how in love with him you were, though you were pretty damn hysterical at the church.

Would you wait all night? Have you already left?

"You know what, I think I can walk faster than this," Rafael told the driver as he got out on the curb and began running towards the park.

"....Don't forget to rate me five stars!!!" The driver called after him.

----

You glanced down at your phone, it had been 45 minutes since you had asked Chloe for 30. Maria was asleep on a bench, Chloe was falling asleep on your shoulder.

He wasn't coming. Olivia had won. You had to accept it.

You put your phone down and walked up to the glass of the penguin tank. They were all sleeping, except for one. They all were wearing these adorable harnesses that had their name on them, hers read "Penny".

Penny was sitting on a rock above the water, just staring at the "shore" of their enclosure.

You wondered if there was any explanation for that-- you googled "PENNY PENGUIN CENTRAL PARK ZOO". An article immediately came up. You scanned it, reading a particular sentence.

"....Penny's mate was killed in an accident at the zoo six months ago. Penguins are notoriously monogamous, so it's likely she won't ever take another mate. She just spends her night and days looking towards the place the Zookeeper's took Leonard from the enclosure."

Your heart broke, tears came to your eyes for the millionth time that day as you pressed a hand to the glass.

"I'm right there with you Penny, I know how you feel babe…" You sniffled as if the penguin could understand you. But she still continued to stare, waiting for her love to come back.

You wiped tears away and walked away from the tank over to Chloe and Maria, shaking her awake.

"Let's go," you sniffled.

"You sure honey?" She asked you as Maria stirred awake.

"Yeah…. it's over," you sniffled again, all out of water in your body.

She let you lean on her as you walked back up the stairs to the park.

You were so downtrodden, you didn't notice you had left your phone sitting in the enclosure.

#rafael barba #rafael barba x reader #rafael barba x you #rafael barba imagine #rafael barba fanficton #law and order svu

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nobody-wants-ice-cream · 5 years ago

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Everything Wrong With The Umbrella Academy. Episode 2, Run Boy Run.

Link to the first episode!

Same disclaimer as last episode: This is all in good fun! I wanted to do a really nitpicky re-watch of the series and found some really cool and interesting things I didn’t notice before. This is meant to have a Cinema Sins-esque tone. However, I did take off a lot more sins than Cinema Sins would have because I do genuinely like the series and the people that made it possible. So all of the good things got one sin off and all the bad things got one sin added. This is a really long post, so grab some popcorn. If there’s anything that I missed, feel free to add it!

Run Boy Run

Grace started the Herr Carlson record before the kids even arrived. How are they supposed to learn if they miss the first few seconds of it? What is the point of the record if they’re not even around to hear all of it?+1

The kids all have their hands on the chairs except for Five, showing that he will do something out of the ordinary. -1

Diego is causing property damage to Reggie’s chairs and Reggie allows this. Be consistent, show! Is Reggie lenient or strict? You could make the argument that Reggie doesn’t care about the chair because he’s rich. In that case, sinning for capitalism.+1

Klaus is already into drugs at the age of 13. We can see him rolling a blunt, and doing it quite well, presumably. +1

Ben is straight up allowed to read at the table. So then what is the point of the record if the kids don’t have to pay attention to it? +1

The kids expressions when Five stabs the table. The ones that we see are pure gold. Especially Klaus’s. Well done Dante Albidone. -1

Diego’s side eye when Five starts arguing with Reggie. This is the perfect expression for “my sibling is about to get in trouble”, so props to Blake Talabis. -1

Vanya’s side eye is also good. TJ McGibbon did well. -1

We see Five jump faster than a bullet, but he’s significantly slower when jumping across the table. +1

Reggie is a dick to Five, who just wants to explore his powers. We know that it’s dangerous because we see Five getting stuck, but Five doesn’t think that that is really a possibility. Reggie only talks in confusing ice and acorn metaphors. +1

Five’s face when Reggie presents the ice and acorn metaphor. -1

Vanya and Allison both give Five a look in this scene. This is what makes Five hesitate. Two of his siblings tell him it’s a bad idea, but he does it anyway because he’s a stubborn bastard. +1

Grace’s face drops when Five starts running out the door. Allison and Vanya also look absolutely horrified. -1

“Run Boy Run” is a little on the nose. Especially once you remember that The Boy is Five’s hero name in the comics. +1

No one cares that a 13 year old popped into existence out of nowhere when Five starts traveling into the future. +1

Easter egg! There is an ice cream cart outside the academy. If you’ve read Dallas, you know why I think that’s significant. Also, it happens to be my icon. -1

Five’s look of complete disbelief and horror when he is faced with the apocalypse for the first time. -1

“Vanya! Ben!” This has created a lot of curiosity in the fandom. In the comics he left before they were named, but in the show it looks like he chose to keep Number Five. Why? +1

The apocalypse looks very believable. -1

Title screen umbrella! -1

The awesome scene with Ellen Page and Aidan Gallagher continues in the next episode. -1

Where would Five have heard that rumor about Twinkies having an endless shelf life? It’s not like he was very exposed to pop culture as a kid. +1

Vanya doesn’t keep her Violin in the case. She leaves it proped on a chair, which is basically begging gravity to come and fuck up your instrument. +1

Five plays the pronoun game and doesn’t tell Vanya about Dolores. +1

The last thing Five heard for 40 years was Reggie’s stupid metaphor. That’s a sin for the metaphor and a sin for Five’s pain and suffering. +2

Vanya gives someone with a thirteen-year-old’s liver a few shots worth of hard liquor in a tall glass. +1

“You think I didn’t try everything to get back to my family?” This quote is Five at his core. It shows his exact motivation. Aidan Gallagher really could have screwed up with this line because it’s so raw, but the delivery doesn’t suck. Well done. -1

Is that liquor real? Aidan Gallagher’s face suggests that it is and he only takes two sips of it. Also, Five takes a sip when it’s just a bit, pours more, then takes another sip, and doesn’t drink any more of it. Sin for showmakers possibly giving a kid real alcohol and sin for Five only taking a sip after pouring a lot out. +1

However, if the alcohol is fake, which I really hope it is, sin off for Aidan Gallagher’s acting. -1

Five expects Vanya to believe his crazy apocalypse story. I had a hard time believing it when we were shown flashbacks as the audience. It wasn’t until they brought in the Commission that I actually believed it. If Five had explained the Commission, just like he did to Luther, then Vanya would have had an easier time believing him. +1

Vanya calls Five crazy and then expects him to not be hurt and want to stay in her apartment. +1

Vanya takes the pills after an emotionally charged scene. Pills-foreshadowing. -1

Five’s hands are shaking when he’s looking at the eyeball. This shows both his uncertainty, with this being his only clue, and shows that he is unwilling to leave his sister again even after she called him insane. -1

Mary J. Bilge. -1

The Lunar Motor Lodge has rates by the week, day, and hour. The Commission is super sleazy for putting Hazel and Cha Cha in a place that also rents by the hour. +1

Hazel and Cha Cha are an underrated duo. The “It smells like cat piss” dialogue is honestly really funny. -1

Obvious villains are obvious. I know they’re meant to be obvious, but it doesn’t change the fact that a show with a lot of subtlety just kind of thrust Hazel and Cha Cha in there with no subtlety at all. +1

Hazel stores the briefcase away and throws a screw, foreshadowing that this will be an important detail later. -1

No one, including police, notices the blinking and beeping, neon green tracker. +1

Patch is sort of right. Five made a jump in the middle of two of the local hires, which caused them to shoot each other. -1

“The guy had an eclair and the kid had coffee”. Patch’s side eye says that she thinks Agnes is getting her story mixed up. If we didn’t see what happened, then the audience wouldn’t believe Agnes either. Great acting Ashley Madekwe. -1

Agnes doesn’t stay in the back room. She crawls out so her head can dramatically pop up over the counter after Five leaves. This is a stupid decision on Agnes’s part.+1

Agnes is seen handling American money. Somehow we as a fandom didn’t notice this. Klaus also uses American money to buy drugs later in this episode. Sinning the showmakers not specifying which state at the very least, but reluctantly because I know that’s a reference to the comics. +1

“What other detective”. Camera cuts to Diego exiting Griddys. -1

Diego is a vigilante. What he is doing impedes the law. In this instance, we want him to stop Patch’s investigation because we know that the answer leads back to Five, which would be bad for the plot. However, Patch’s annoyance suggests Diego has done this to her before. How many murderers have gone free because Diego intervenes in Patch’s cases? +1

Diego did not consent to being searched and having his personal belongings taken. +1

Ebay exists but there is no internet or smartphones. What? +1

Diego thinks that this looks like a botched robbery. No way in hell does this look like a robbery of a doughnut shop in any universe. A bank robbery, yeah sure, but not a doughnut shop. What kind of doughnut shop has the kind of money that requires multiple guys with very large weapons, Diego? +1

The way Patch is described to Five by Diego in a later episode does not match the personality she actually has. +1

A whole crowd of people had nothing better to do than to watch the cops investigate a murder scene in a densely populated city. +1

Is Luther hitting his head after he wakes up a character choice? He does it again with the model airplane. After the low ceilings on the moon for four years, you would think that he would learn to duck. +1

Emmy Raver-Lampman gives an amazing performance when talking to Luther about Claire. -1

Allison has multiple posters of herself in her room. I am sinning for her younger self’s narcissism. +1

However, this narcissism goes hand in hand with Allison as a character. Props to the set designers for making these posters and hanging them up. It adds detail to Allison’s room and really shows who she was as a character. -1

“When Claire was little I used to read her books about the moon. I’d tell her her Uncle was living up there” Allison doesn’t remember that Luther was on the moon and therefore shouldn’t know about her divorce in the first episode, but says this in the second episode. +1

Luther looks so genuinely happy at being Claire’s personal superhero. -1

The ghosts torturing Klaus. +1

That fucking animal print thing Klaus is wearing. +1

Robert Sheehan is very, very attractive. This makes up for the monstrosity Klaus is wearing. -1

“You know you talk in your sleep.” “Oh there’s no point. You’re out of drugs” I love Ben as a character so much. -1

“Shut your piehole, Ben. Said with love” smooch. I love this line. -1

“I’ve got a crazy idea. Why not try starting your day with… a glass of orange juice or some eggs”. Justin Min’s delivery of this line kills me every time. -1

Pogo is really vague about why the papers in Reggie’s box are important. If he said something about the papers detailing the Academy’s powers in explicit detail, Klaus would have tried harder to get them back. +1

We don’t see Klaus pull out the Red Journal in episode one. +1

“Liar” “Drop dead” “Low blow”. This is an iconic interaction for a reason. -1

Pogo knows that Klaus can talk to ghosts, but remains offended when Klaus tells a ghost to shut up. +1

“Really awful, terrible, depressing times” Reggie is a dick to his children. +7

Vanya sleeps with the door to her bedroom open, even though we saw her close it. So she must have gotten up to open the door and didn’t notice Five was gone. +1

Where did Five go all night? Did he sleep back in the Academy? It couldn’t have taken him this long to get to the MeriTech building, so what happened to him? He changed to a clean uniform, so presumably he went to the Academy, but why did the show vague this? Did he walk into a department store and buy/steal a clean shirt?+1

Only the plot relevant person notices Five. The front desk girl doesn’t question why he’s there. And that is her literal job. I would know, I run the front desk at a medical office. If you don’t greet the patients then you’re not doing your job, front desk girl.+1

“Must have just [click] popped out.” iconic.-1

Five decides that violence is the best course of action to get the information he needs, directly contradicting “I know how to do everything” +1

The 1938 fingerprints may be Five’s. However, police usually discard this kind of evidence because there is a very reasonable doubt. Not to mention that anyone could have touched the knife. It’s a public place. Forensic evidence is not as reliable as it is portrayed in the media. +1

Diego is an asshole to everyone, but especially to Patch. She’s right, Diego is obstructing justice. How many murderers have gone free because Diego interfered in an investigation? +1

Diego’s boiler room is way too big to be a boiler room. +1

Luther’s reflection in Diego’s mask shows that Luther wants to know what it would be like to be number two instead of number one. Luther can’t lead for shit and subconsciously wishes that he didn’t have to. -1

With an aerial shot of the Academy from the outside, we can see that Reggie never bothered to take the laundromat sign off the mansion or that Reggie sold ad space on the mansion exterior. +1

Reggie is a dick to animals. See: the animal skeletons and the taxidermy. +1

Part of the mansion is painted an ugly neon green for no reason. +1

“Sorry I left without saying goodbye”. The “both times” is unspoken. -1

Vanya apologises for calling him crazy and being dismissive, but still suggests he needs mental help. He does, but maybe suggest it later when he isn’t convinced you think he’s insane? +1

Five lies to Vanya about something stupid. If he said that he was having Klaus help him with the apocalypse, I don’t think she would have minded. +1

Why does Five have so many toys in his room? Including a baseball? +1

Klaus comes out of the wardrobe as loudly as possible. The mansion does not have sound proofing (see: I Think We’re Alone Now dance party). There is no way in hell Vanya didn’t hear him. +1

This is the last time Vanya and Five interact. +1

Five’s room is more childish than a thirteen-year-old’s room should be. It honestly looks like he was the favorite because his room has so many toys in it. Like Reggie wanted to win his favor or something. Sinning for the weird set design choice and for Reggie being an asshole. +1

The fake circumstances in which Five was born in their cover story gives me immense joy. -1

In one camera angle, if you look carefully they cut two takes of “what a disturbing glimpse into that thing you call a brain”. In the one where we can’t see his face properly, Aidan Gallagher is openly smiling. Corpsing. +1

Robert Sheehan is funny. -1

Syd the tow truck guy doesn’t really look like Sean Sullivan (actor that plays adult Five) enough for Cha Cha, a trained assassin, to not see that he isn’t their mark. +1

Hazel eating a sandwich in this scene. Also the “Italian for dinner line”. -1

And Cha Cha sees the differences between Syd and Five later! +1

“Time travel’s a bitch” “Especially without a briefcase” There's other time travel methods than briefcase or being Five? Elaborate. +1

Patrick is a dick to Allison. We understand why later, but really Patrick, you’re going to be an asshole when her father just died? Don’t get me wrong, Reggie abused the hell out of her, but still! Patrick should have let Allison talk to Claire. +1

Vanya tries to comfort Allison even though she knows nothing about the situation other than that it happened. She’s never even met Patrick! +1

Allison is clearly trying to get away from this conversation with Vanya, but Vanya presses on. +1

“Well if I wanted advice, Vanya, no offence, it wouldn’t be from you”. This is why Vanya doesn’t take Allison’s advice about Leonard. Also, Allison is a dick to Vanya. +1

This scene with Allison and Vanya is interesting. Allison is projecting her pain and taking it out on Vanya, who really should have seen and heard what happened enough to leave her alone. Both of them are the bad guy here regardless of how you slice it. I am sinning the show for this moment because they really tried to villainize Allison for this scene, but she does have some well thought out points and is in an emotionally compromised state. Or in other words, the fight between Allison and Vanya is stupid. +1

Grant/Lance/whatever gave Klaus and Five valuable office time. Doctors do not have time for this sort of crap. Shouldn’t this guy have patients? +1

Aidan Gallagher looks to the actor playing Grant/Lance/whatever as if he’s waiting for him to say his line. I see this all the time with younger kids in theatre, but they can get away with it if their character has a reason to look at that character. That being said, Five would have no reason to do this.+1

The sound effect that plays when Klaus slaps Five is really out of place. +1

Seeing Robert Sheehan slap Aidan Gallagher. -1

Klaus pauses as if he’s listening to Ben before he picks up the snowglobe. -1

The snowglobe. Robert Sheehan pretending to be Klaus pretending to be Five’s crazy dad. Acting. -1

Five looks like a proud grandfather when Klaus gets Lance to show them the records. -1

Five doesn’t pay Klaus for that brilliant acting. Also, how was Five planning to give Klaus $20. He doesn’t have any money nor do we ever see him with money. Five is a cheapskate. +1

Klaus calls Five “old man”. I thought that was just a fandom thing lmao. -1

“You must be horny as hell”. Great Klaus line, but super weird that he’s saying it to someone that looks thirteen. +1

Klaus is wearing the shirt that goes with his nicest outfit underneath Reggie’s pinstripe suit. -1

“Goodbye Dolores”, a song from the soundtrack, starts playing when Five starts talking about Dolores. This is good placement of that song because we later learn that he left her in the apocalypse when he left to work for the Commission. -1

Five is a dick to Klaus. Klaus is really trying to connect with his long lost brother, but Five jumps away. +1

That taxi driver doesn’t freak out and cause a car accident when a random kid appears in his car. +1

Also, how did Five pay for that taxi? Did he jump out of the moving vehicle too? +1

Leonard is so obvious from the start. So charming that he’s slimy. +1

Vanya can’t see this and is actually attracted to him. This may go back to that conversation with Allison when she asks if Vanya has ever been in a relationship. For all we know, the answer is no. +1

Leonard took three years of German in prison. I don't think American jails are that nice. +1

Leonard picks up another person’s instrument without their consent. As a musician, this is very, very painful. +2

Diego is paranoid, but also observant as fuck. -1

But how did he get his weapons back from the police? Are knives open carry in whatever state this is in? There are some states where Diego’s harness would be legal so it’s possible. I’ll have to look into this. Sinning the show for being vauge as fuck. +1

Luther didn’t notice the boiler room door open. +1

Diego throws weapons on his siblings. +1

Reginald Hargreeves died March 21st. The funeral is on March 24th. This is way too soon. It should have been a week or two not two days between the date of death and the funeral. Especially considering Luther suspects Reggie was murdered. And if you say that Reggie, Pogo, or Grace bribed them, then I’m sinning for bribery.+1

Diego eats a raw egg. Salmonella headass. +2

David Castaneda eats a raw egg. Why did you make him do this? It adds nothing to the character other than making Diego look dumb as hell. +1

Vanya interrupts her student while he’s playing and doing well. Whenever my teacher does that I get a minor heart attack. +1

Leonard is already lying to Vanya. He manipulates her by saying his Dad was into music and that's why he’s taking violin lessons. +1

An actual place named “Bricktown” in a place called “The City.” Sigh. +1

It is four o’clock when Leonard takes his lesson, but then after the lesson we cut to night time. What happened in those couple hours, show? Are you really saying that these characters did nothing interesting for all that time? +1

Emmy Raver-Lampman clearly isn’t smoking. Which is fine because she’s a Broadway actress and needs her voice/lungs for that part of her career. It’s weird because it shows that Allison isn't smoking. +1

Pogo scolds Allison for her language. Allison is an adult, Pogo. +1

Klaus made a drink at a young age and Reggie didn’t stop him. Or talk to him. He recorded Klaus drinking, but didn’t care. +1

The showmakers show us Allison’s face for dramatic tension instead of showing us the tape. This was a good choice and I feel it helped the narative.-1

They show a sign “Gimbel Brothers Seniors Tuesdays 10% Off.” after Five walks by. -1

The most awkward and dopey smile in existence when Five finds Dolores. -1

They play “Goodbye Dolores” after he finds her. That could have worked if they transposed it to the major key. Hello Dolores. +1

“Goodbye Dolores” transitioning into “Don’t Stop Me Now” by Queen. -1

This action sequence is great. -1

Hazel’s wrist splint. -1

Five cuts Cha Cha with a trowel. -1

The dual screen thing is cool. -1

Five literally jumps over a stand and somehow doesn’t get shot. Hazel and Cha Cha have Stormtrooper aim. +1

How did Hazel and Cha Cha leave? You would think the police would notice someone leaving through the back. +1

Similarly, how did Five and Dolores get out of this? Did he wait until he could jump and teleport outside the store? Can he teleport that far? +1

How did Diego get another police scanner so quickly? Unless that’s the scanner Patch confiscated? +1

“I gotta show you something” +1

Once again, Five should be a lot sweatier. What are these magic, sweat absorbing things you can buy in a department store and where can I buy them? +1

Five sees an eyeball and immediately picks it up for no reason. He doesn’t even know that’s Luther’s body yet. He just picked up an eye for no reason. +1

Five as a thirteen-year-old boy saw his siblings' dead bodies. Sinning for trauma. +1

Aidan Gallagher portrays this trauma well. -1

Overall Review:

I love this episode and had a hard time finding things wrong with it. I genuinely like this episode and I think that it could have stood alone as the pilot.

Some acting things I noticed, David Castaneda, John Magaro (Leonard), and Ashley Madekwe were the standouts this episode. All three brought something interesting to the table this episode and I look forward to re-watching their scenes. I wish Madekwe and Magaro all the best as I know that they probably won’t be returning for season two.

The plot thickens! Hazel and Cha Cha were introduced in a very obvious way compared to the subtle way they introduced Leonard. There is a reason I adore this episode, and it’s not just for Klaus slapping Five (though that is part of it).

Total: 52

Sentence: We saw Diego eat a raw egg. That’s punishment enough for this episode.

#The Umbrella Academy #all in good fun #luther hargreeves #diego hargreeves #Allison Hargreeves #klaus hargreeves #five hargreeves #ben hargreeves #vanya hargreeves #eudora patch

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miraclesnail · 4 years ago

Text

1000 Ways and I Can Name You One

A thousand ways to tell the Stoll brothers apart and I can name you one. Travis and Connor centric oneshots featuring characters from PJO/HOO.

Chapter 32: Michael - Food

Plus the whole 9.7k fic under the read more but with funky formatting

Michael — Food

Michael (14) — Travis (13) — Connor (13)

Early June 2007

Pre Sea of Monsters

[8:07 AM]

The whole drive to Camp, Lee has been saying the weirdest things.

‘This camp is special.’

‘This camp is for children of Greek gods and goddesses.’

‘This camp helps the said children harness the godly gifts inherited from said gods and goddesses.’

‘This camp is top secret and no matter what, you cannot tell your mother about Camp Half Blood. Not a word. Not a complaint. Not even a compliment. Michael? Are you listening? Ar—are you laughing?! Michael, I’m not joking around. This is not a joke.’

Did Michael take Lee seriously? Not at all. Not even to humor him. What does Lee take him for? An idiot? Like, he doesn’t really have many friends at school (none actually) but even he knows when someone is trying to pull a prank on him. Lee typically goes for jump scares, but it’s good to see him broaden his horizon and try new things.

Yeah.

Michael wholeheartedly believes Lee is 100% kidding around.

It’s kind of a shock when he walks through the camp and sees flowers being grown in someone’s palms, men with hooves and horns trotting around, a goddamn girl rising from the lake like some kind of b-grade horror movie but minus the sunken eyes and gray skin and tattered white dress.

It’s a big shock. Kinda earth-shattering actually. Very disorientating. It’s taking all his mental capability to process the fact that the Greek gods are real , that the Greek myths are real , that his atheist beliefs are all wrong and holy fuck?? God is real .

It’s probably why when that SOB Shermie or Sherlock or whatever his name is picked a fight, he welcomed the easy distraction and picked one right back.

In hindsight, he should have maybe exhibited more self-control.

“He shoved me.”

The utter stare of incredulity has Michael quickly rephrasing his initial statement, fiddling with a loose string on his t-shirt.

“He shoved me first. ”

“And so you decided to turn it into a slugfest?” Lee says, arms crossing as they stand on Cabin 11’s porch.

“To be fair, to be fair,” Michael says, scrambling for excuses as his eyes dart from cabin to cabin, “to be really fair, that Sherm-guy started it.”

Lee didn’t buy it, not that Michael expected him too.

“You promised me, Michael,” Lee says, disappointed, and Michael looks away with guilt.

He did promise Lee. Right before they left the apartment complex, Lee explicitly said, “Promise me, Michael, that you’ll be on your best behavior?�� And he said he will.

“Mike, I don’t want any phone calls from the head honcho again, okay?” his mom said, exasperated. He said there wouldn’t be any.

“Mikey, please tell us all the fights you’ll get into!” his four little siblings — Leo, Raphie, Carly, and Sam — screamed together with cheeky, smug, knowing grins as he got into the car with Lee. He said ‘in your dreams.’

Not even one full hour and he failed two out of three. Possibly all three if Travis and Connor decide to hand his ass to the director.

“I’m really sorry, Lee,” Michael says, head lowering, “I promise for real this time. I won’t get into any more fights. I swear.”

Like clockwork, the frown and crossed arms drop for a bright smile and a hair ruffling, like he actually believed Michael can do it. Lee’s weird like that. He believes in people and their lies despite what their actions are saying, believes in him even with the 14 years of experience that Michael cannot follow through on that promise.

It’s that same idealistic, stupid belief that has Lee clinging to the hope his birth mom will one day want to actually be a mom.

Michael slinks back into the cabin as quietly as he can. Miranda catches his eye and waves him over, patting the empty spot next to her. Michael hesitates (still remembers the way she tosses a boy a whole head taller than her like nothing) but thought better of it.

The promise, he thinks. Remember your promise.

He sees Sherman sitting on Miranda’s other side. As he slides down to sit cross-legged, he’s mentally preparing himself for a jeer. But Sherman is just staring at Miranda, wide-eyed and star-struck and totally ignoring him which is perfectly fine with Michael.

Miranda angles her body towards him, a slight smile on her face as she tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. “I just want to warn you that you’re in Connor’s bad book right now.”

“Should I be worried?” Michael says, glancing at the brothers talking on one of the upper bunk beds.

To which Miranda smiles sweetly. “You should keep your head down. I heard he gets a bit prank-crazy with people he doesn’t like.”

A sharp whistle brings his attention upfront.

“Okay, so hey, everybody! Exciting first day, I know. Welcome to Camp Half Blood,” one of the pair says with a big grin, standing on top of the upper bunk bed. The other sits at the edge, feet swinging over. “We’re already late for breakfast so I’ll make this super-duper quick. My name is Travis Stoll. I am one of your head counselors. This is Connor, my little brother.”

Connor waves, his smile matching Travis’s.

“I’m also your counselor. Any problems you guys have whether it be life problems, camp problems, prank problems, you can come to us. Lucky for you guys, you have two of us. Most cabins just have one,” Connor says.

“Where’s Luke?” someone in the back yells.

“Luke is gone now. If you see him, either in person or in a dream, tell us right away. Please come talk to me after this meeting if you want more details,” Connor answers, still cheerful but Michael kinda feels like his words are too curt. There’s definitely bad blood between this Luke person and them.

“Moving on,” Travis follows after, “the beds are all taken. Any more fighting over them will result in the instigator getting a timeout. For everybody else, sleeping bags are available and we will make room. Your stuff can be placed in the closet or tucked in your sleeping bag. I know this cabin’s patron is the god of thievery, but please show respect and decency towards your fellow cabinmates and don’t steal from each other. Steal from other cabins instead. Apollo’s kids are the easiest to steal from. So are Aphrodite’s if you want to practice before moving onto the big leagues. Athena’s and Hephaestus’s cabins are where the real challenge is.”

“What about the claiming rate? Someone said the gods would claim us more now,” a girl asks, standing from her sitting position with a bounce, hope in her eyes.

“Uh, um...” Travis falters, looking down at Connor for guidance. It’s hard to notice but Connor bites his cheeks and just barely shakes his head.

“Claiming, yeah. I’m not too sure about that. I’ll talk with Chi — Tantalus about that. Tantalus is the activity director now in case you all don’t know,” Travis answers.

There’s a chorus of groans.

Someone grumbles, “It’s been years.”

“What happened to Chiron?” another asks.

“Temporarily relieved of duty due to, uh, an investigation of his effectiveness on the job. Which, if you ask me, Chiron has been doing a fantastic job of and we should all write a very strongly worded letter to Zeus to get him back on his job.”

A boy in front of Michael shoots his hand up.

“I heard Luke went all ‘Anakin Skywalker’ on us and joined Kr—”

Connor blows an air horn and interrupts the boy before he could finish. Travis’s smile is strained as he says, “Okay, first rule on Camp Half Blood for the foreseeable future! No mentioning any of the bad guys by name. Names have power. Instead we will refer to him by initials. The evil titan guy will be called K.T. K for his first letter and T because he controls time.”

“Can we change it to K.K. Slider?” the same boy says.

Beside him, a girl socks the boy in the arm. “No! How dare you sully K.K.’s name like this?”

But Travis is already jumping down his bed, landing with grace. “K.K. Slider it is. That’s all for the morning announcements. Now everybody gets in a straight line. We’re going to the pavilion for breakfast and it is the best thing ever. You can literally get whatever you want. All you need is the power of imagination. Well, imagination and common sense. Don't imagine something you won’t eat. It’s not a contest to create the grossest food.”

Connor follows down after his brother with a grin and shrugs. “But if it was, I would win.”

Growing up, Michael is what everybody called a ‘problem child.’ Absolutely zero friends not helped by him picking and starting fights for the ‘smallest’ reasons. No remarkable talent except for his athleticism. Mediocre to poor grades due to inability to focus (and it doesn’t help that he’s dyslexic and that his teachers all hate him and that he has a homing device for all the school’s bullies).

The teachers blamed his mother for his attitude and academic abilities. But they don’t know shit. His mother helps him with his homework after coming back from work. His mother searches for ways to help him manage his ADHD and dyslexia. His mother is raising five kids all by herself with zero help from his deadbeat dad. Going to their extracurricular activities, funding their education, making time to have game and movie nights. His mother is literally Superman for finding time to do all that across five children. No. Make that six. Mom always attends Lee’s band performances and includes him with all their activities and outings and supports him the way Lee’s own mom should be doing.

Michael’s pretty sure his mom isn't the problem.

Besides his four younger siblings are literal angels. Clearly, the problem is him. Not his mother.

That’s why going into high school he had every intention of becoming a better son, a better brother, and a better student. Set a better reputation for his family, you know?

Unfortunately, this whole mess with him being half-god kinda put a pause on his plans.

And put every weird thing Lee ever did into perspective.

That one time Lee slapped his brand new Nokia cellphone out of his hands and ended his cell’s short life by stomping the hell out of it? Those dozens of times Lee lectured him about not using technology with his stupid excuse of ‘it rots your brain, Michael. Don’t touch it,’ despite Lee himself using a phone and a laptop on a daily basis?? Those hundreds of times Lee excused himself from dinner, movies, and the middle of game nights to ‘use the bathroom’ and coming back with a thin layer of gold dust??? Those weird dreams he gets of standing on top of a broken, tethering bridge and falling thousands of meters to his death in a ravine and Lee saying, ‘it’s just a dream. Don’t worry about it’ with a high-pitched, forced laugh that says he should be worrying????

Now he sees what it was all about. Obviously a metaphor for the earth-shattering revelation of his heritage.

He’s half- god . A demigod. Some part of him came from an immortal being.

It makes him see his dad in a whole new light.

Like, Michael always knows his dad is an asshole, leaving his mom and whatnot.

But now? Knowing his dad is a literal god in the Greek myths he read back in 6th grade? Those freaky assholes with their crazy sex adventures and ego-driven tantrums?

At least the fantasy asshole dad he had in mind didn’t commit mass genocide or is an egotistical, narcissistic jerk or had sex with their siblings, parents, animals, and who knows what else freaky shit the gods like to stick their dick in to.

And the most bizarre thing is that he’s expected to honor them by throwing the best parts of his meal into the fire.

Well, he’s not gonna.

“Throw your food into the fire, Mike,” one of his counselors says beside him as he tosses a bag of M&M into the flames.

“Why should I?”

“So the gods don’t get angry,” says the other counselor, throwing half of his strawberries — Michael stares at the plate. It’s just strawberries. Nothing else. That’s not healthy — into the fire before turning to help the others.

“They’re gonna threaten us if we don’t worship them? Sounds like a pretty unhealthy parent-child relationship,” Michael says.

The one that tossed the M&Ms shrugs. “Just toss something in. It can be anything. Even something you ha— don’t care about. That’s what I do. I don’t think Hermes minds.”

But what Michael hears is that this Hermes fella doesn’t give a shit.

A small boy with round glasses wedges in between them, frowning, and tosses in a sausage link. “Don’t listen to Connor. You’re never going to be claimed if you listen to him.”

Connor shrugs again. “Hermes hasn’t disowned me yet.”

“That’s because Hermes is busy with other things. The other gods don’t have a child plotting to usurp—” the kid starts to say but at Connor’s harsh nudging and loud cough and not so subtle nod towards the others in the pavilion and (kind of scary) glare, he shuts up. A second passes before the boy says to him, “Everybody likes to feel appreciated, Michael. Even gods. It’s good to remind them we’re here for them. Now more than ever.”

Michael frowns at the exchange. Child? Usurp? Usurp who? The gods? Yeah. Like that is even possible.

“What were you trying to say—”

“So I see you got over your embarrassing loss,” Connor interrupts with this infuriating smug grin. “Man, I would have hidden my face for like a year after the way I kicked your ass.”

And just like that, Michael forgets everything but that day back in March when he met the brothers. It’s an obvious bait and Michael just lunges for it like the dumb fish he is.

“No, I kicked your ass. Kicked it all the way down the stairs,” Michael huffs at Connor’s heel as they walk to the table. Connor slides into the first open spot he sees and Michael sits down across from him, elbow to elbow to his cabinmates. They need a bigger picnic table.

“Ass?” Besides Connor, Miranda’s head swivels to face them, her smile innocent but Michael knows better now. Behind that sweet smile is a demon. “Who kicked whose ass? ”

“We met Michael back in March when we hopped in Lee’s car and we’re not using that language, Mikey,” Travis says, sitting down beside Connor slurping a mouthful of cereal.

“So? Who won?” Miranda asks, leaning over to slide scrambled eggs onto Travis’s plate and picking off 75% of Travis’s many, many strawberries from his plate.

Travis stares at the egg with disdain. “Connor won, of course. And I don’t want that. Take it back.”

“Will said you need something more than just strawberries in the morning. Doctor’s orders. Disobey and you’ll feel his wrath,” Miranda says.

For half-a-second, Michael thinks Travis is going to fight but he turns back in his seat and just grabs his fork.

“There’s nothing wrong with just strawberries for breakfast,” Travis grumbles, stabbing his fork into the scrambled eggs. “Right? Nothing wrong with strawberries.”

“I think that depends on the quantity but don’t worry, Travis. I totally got you,” Connor says, pulling out a basket of strawberries and ducking from Miranda’s sudden lunge for it. With ease, Connor holds Miranda back while Travis indulges in his unhealthy obsession with a satisfied, blissed smile.

Michael thinks of the half Travis threw into the fire and before he knows it, he’s saying, “You really love strawberries, don’t you?”

Travis nods, mouth full. “Favorite food in the world.”

“Then you must like your—”

But Travis’s eyes shoot to a girl entering the pavilion, heading straight towards the table with the plant-speaking kid, and Michael knows his words are falling on deaf ears. Travis nudges Connor and whispers into his ear, a shit-eating grin sprouting on Connor’s face as he looks over his shoulder.

Miranda catches their grins and stands, yelling, “Katie, wait!”

But Katie sits down and Michael hears what is probably the world’s loudest, strongest whoopee cushion rip through the pavilion. Travis and Connor laugh as Katie stands back up, cushion in hand and face flushed tomato red.

“Welcome back, Miss Tattletale!” Travis yells.

“That was months ago, you pieces of — of — fertilizers! Give me a break!” Katie roars. The ground rumbles as a tree sprouts beside the table, hooking Travis and Connor up by the back of their shirts. They’re way too calm as they’re dangling several feet in the air. In unison, both brothers pull out squirt guns and aim them at Katie.

And it is definitely not water judging by the smell.

[9 AM, Sword Fighting]

Lee said he was a demigod. That monsters are real. And that they sometimes must fight off the monsters that come to eat them.

Michael never really thought about what it entailed. What they’re supposed to fight the monsters with.

Dimly, he’s aware of his counselors talking. Something about introduction to swordsmanship and the bare basics plus safety today, then tomorrow they will be training with Ares? Apollo? ‘Some god with the letter A’ cabin and learning a few techniques. He isn’t really paying attention to them as he stares at the blade in his hands.

It’s real. It’s a real, metal blade. And by the looks of it, everyone has one. Even the little 9-year-old. What the fuck? That’s how old the twins, Sam and Carly, are and holy shit. The thought of them with a real sword? The thought of them having to use it to battle some mythical monster? It's enough to make him vomit.

“Michael? Michael, hey.” Someone is snapping their fingers in front of his eyes and he knocks the hand away, glaring at … at … well, it’s either Travis or Connor, staring at him blankly, but he can’t tell who’s who yet. They should have worn nametags.

“What?”

“Have you ever used a sword before?”

Michael kinda felt it should have been obvious, but he shakes his head.

“Okay, well imagine you’re holding a kitchen knife and you’re cutting some veggies for a veggie soup but instead of a broccoli, it’s a monster and instead of small dainty cuts, you’re making big, wide, full power slashes. So nothing like what I told you to imagine. Forget I said that. You want to grip it like this with both hands—” Connor (or Travis?) demonstrates and Michael mimics the action, “—for the most control. You can try one-handed but the strikes tend to be flimsy at best unless you’re gifted like Clarisse or Percy. You want to kill the monsters as fast and in one go as you can while still being safe. Here’s—” he is walked over to a hand-made, hand-stuffed dummy with straws sticking out its seams. A happy face on a yellow sticky note stuck to where it’s head is. “—a practice dummy for you. Give it a few swings and get a feel for the weapon. I’ll be right back with more pointers after helping everyone. You good to be by yourself a bit?”

Then Travis (Connor?) is leaving after Michael hesitates to say ‘no, I’m not good’, taking off with a thumbs up and a crooked grin.

Michael almost called him back, but they’re a big cabin. Only a quarter of them have been gotten too, the other three-fourths goofing around while waiting their turn. Michael has never been to a summer camp before, nevermind one as strange as this, but he guesses they’re on a tight schedule.

So he looks down, readjusts his grip, and swings, missing spectacularly, losing his balance, and nearly taking his eye out.

[10:00 AM, Archery]

Michael didn’t need much help here.

The bow feels right in his hands. His body knows what to do, his arms pull back the bow like it has done this a million times and his first shot lands dead center in the bullseye.

The next five shots are the same.

“Woah,” his counselor mutters, face scrunched in thought before it lightens up, blue eyes shining with a gleam. “You’re a natural. Hey, you wanna be the archery tutor? I’ve never seen anyone aim so well and had such perfect form. Not even Annabeth.”

Michael lowers the bow and tries to figure out how he did what he just did despite never once using a bow before in his life.

[11:00 AM, Greek Mythology]

Michael knew Lee was a decent teacher, tutoring him in both English and Math, so it’s no surprise he’s decent at teaching Greek mythology too. All the campers are in the amphitheater with hand made wooden desks courtesy of the girl from breakfast. Lee is in the center with an overhead projector just having the time of his life explaining what each of the 12 Olympians plus Hades represents with a mind map.

He tries to pay attention. He really did. He gets through listening to Zeus, Poseidon, Hades, and part of Demeter’s history before his attention is pulled away by Travis and Connor. They’re far away from the group, beside the cabins, hunched over a … birdbath? It looks like they’re arguing to the birdbath, but Michael squints and with his perfect vision sees that there is a person. On the surface of the birdbath. A girl with blonde hair. There’s a girl in the water of the birdbath.

There’s a girl. In the water. Of a birdbath.

Maybe he shouldn’t be so surprised. Food pops into existence with a thought. A girl can grow fullass trees without blinking an eye. Miranda can toss a boy almost twice her weight over her shoulder.

So what if the camp has a Moaning Myrtle?

Before he knows it, Lee is done, Michael misses the other 8 Olympian’s tales, and everybody is packing up their notes to head back to their respective cabins.

They’re ending early to have enough time for a tour of the camp. Which is kind of telling where their priorities are when they hold training first over the tour.

It’s kind of even more telling what the camp’s view of safety is when there’s a climbing wall that spews lava and when asked about why there’s lava, Travis and Connor say cheerfully in unison, ‘it’s more exciting that way.’

“Hey, Travis,” a kid starts, tugging on one of the brother’s sleeves.

“I’m Connor, but yeah?” Connor corrects, turning to face the camper.

“Um, I heard from someone in the Ares Cabin that because of us, we’re in war with Kro—K.K. Is that true?”

Connor smiles and shakes his head. “No. We didn’t do anything.”

He didn’t refute the war part though.

And as if Connor hears his thoughts, he addresses the cabin, “You don’t have to fight if you don’t want to. But monsters are still a thing so you still have to go to the morning training. No way out of those. Sorry.”

[12:30, Lunch]

Michael is starting to think Travis is some kind of strawberry fanatic and that’s putting it lightly.

There’s another concerning amount of strawberries on his plate coupled with a grilled cheese sandwich and a salad, yes, but that’s way too many strawberries for one day.

“No such thing,” Travis says, scraping half of his ungodly amount into the fire.

“I think there is a limit though.” Connor shrugs, tossing a bag of M&M right after.

Michael follows them to the table, even more cramped now. Five new campers, unclaimed, arrived late because of road traffic. He tucks himself into the first opening he sees, shoulder to shoulder and elbow to elbow. Many inches too close in his opinion.

“Travis,” Michael starts, thinking back to breakfast, “You’re claimed, right? You know who your godly parent is?”

“Yup, Hermes. God of Pranksters,” Travis says, stabbing his fork into a lettuce and turning to wave it at Lee’s table which is much more roomier. Lee catches the action and nudges a boy beside him with an elbow, snickering. The boy turns and rolls his eyes at Travis.

“You like your dad, right?” Michael asks.

A quarter of the cabin immediately stops talking and not really subtly turns to them. He’s pretty sure he’s breaking some sort of taboo. Not that it bothers Michael all that much.

“Yeah, of course I do. He’s pretty cool,” Travis responds, rolling a cherry tomato around with a fork and not looking him in the eye.

“Why?” It feels like everyone in the cabin is staring at them now, but even then Michael can’t stop.

“‘Why?’” Travis repeats, twirling the fork. Michael can’t help but notice Connor gripping his fork tighter and he has a vivid image of the boy stabbing it into him. Connor seems like the type. “He’s my dad. I think I’m supposed to like him.”

“But he never talked with you though, right? He has never been there for you. How could you possibly like him?”

Travis shrugs. “He’s a god. He’s probably busy.”

Michael frowns. His mom is busy too. Granted, busy with normal things like a job but she still finds the time to tuck his siblings to bed. Still finds the time to cook breakfast and dinner for them. Still finds the time to make movie nights. Still tell them every day, without fail, that she loves them. Is still there for him and his siblings.

“So it doesn’t bother you? The way your relationship is with him right now?” Michael pushes.

Travis fidgets with his strawberries, muttering something under his breath that sounds suspiciously like French.

“What was—” Michael starts to say, but Connor glares, hard. Michael thinks he can see the promise of pain and suffering Connor will inflict upon him. Guess he’d just written his name in Connor’s bad book in Sharpie.

“Look, Michael, it’s the social norm around here to not talk about our godly parents. Especially in ways that demean them.”

Social norm? Like he cares about something as trivial as that.

“I just want—”

“Drop it, Michael. Travis’s relationship with our dad is none of your business,” Connor snaps.

Travis is quiet, a hand resting on a cheek as he stabs into a strawberry, red juices spattering over lettuce and grilled cheese.

“I want his approval. He’s my dad. What kid doesn’t want their parent’s approval?”

Lee pulls him aside as lunch wraps up, leading them a bit away from the others.

“Michael, can you chill with the public grilling for a bit?”

“I just don’t get the worship around here for them though,” he argues.

Lee falters, thinking about his words. “Michael, for some of us, our godly parent is the only one that cares.”

“Wait, are you saying your dad talks to you here?” Michael says. He doesn’t really know what the whole deal is going on with Lee and his mom, but he knows enough to know that Ms. Fletcher deserves the worst mom of the century award.

Lee frowns a bit and shakes his head. “We talked once when I was claimed but other than that, no. Not really. And none of my half-siblings said anything to me about him either. But he’s already doing so much more than the other gods.”

“Really? Like what?”

And Lee answers without hesitating, “He claims us as his.”

Michael recalls the talk before breakfast and the questions. About claiming. About waiting. About giving up. The bitterness in their voices. The longing. The yearning. And a sinking feeling grows in the pit of his stomach.

“How long did it take for you to be claimed?” he asks.

“I was claimed the second I stepped onto Camp. Apollo tends to be rather fast when it comes to claiming his children. The longest he ever went without claiming is one week. Demeter claims fast during the fall and winter months when Persephone is away. Hephaestus takes on average a month or so to claim.”

“And the slowest god at claiming?”

Lee’s eyes narrow in thought. “Let’s see… Ares, Athena, Aphrodite, and Hermes seem to be the slowest.”

“How slow?”

“Slow as in… months, years.”

“Why?”

Lee looks away in discomfort. “Who knows? We shouldn’t speculate though. That’s just asking for a curse.”

He catches up to his cabin gathering for the next event and when he asks around about the claiming rate, he gets a mixture of answers.

“Because we’re not their favorites,” Miranda says cheerfully, while arm-wrestling (and clearly winning) with a flushed Sherman.

“Because we have to prove ourselves first,” the kid with the glasses states, eyes fixed on his shoes.

“Because they forgot we existed,” others say.

“Because they want something from us.”

“Because they don’t want the responsibilities of a parent.”

“Because they don’t care.”

“Because they don’t think we’re worth it.”

“It’s because they suck ass,” one of the older campers says with dead serious eyes as Travis chokes on his strawberry, tossing the rest of the fruits into the fire, plate and all.

“Shh! Celise, you’re gonna get cursed! Everybody, no bad-mouthing the gods or you’ll be turned into a snail and as cute as snails are, I like you all as humans.”

The camper shrugs and whispers, it’s true .

Trust me, they whisper next as they’re pulled aside by Travis’s frantic tugging.

They don’t care.

All of this is truly making him appreciate the gods more.

Connor whistles for everybody’s attention, standing on top of a rock with a piece of paper.

“It’s free choice from now until 3:30. Each counselor is hosting a different event. Travis and I are doing canoeing. Silena will be hosting horseback — that needs to be changed to pegasi — riding. Malcolm, you will take over for Annabeth since she isn’t here yet for the intro to Origami. Katie will be watching over the wall climbing. Lee, intro to guitar and lyres. Beckendorf, intro to welding. Pollux will be taking over Clarisse’s place at the arena for additional sword and archery lessons. And Castor will be teaching DIY soda. Here’s a map for each of you where everything is. Any questions? Yes, you, in the back. Hao, right?”

Michael takes the map, finds Lee’s name, finds the corresponding location, and then crumples the flimsy paper in his hands.

But before he can walk away, Miranda is there in front of him and tugging him by the arm with a beaming smile.

“Follow me for a sec? I want to show you something. It will be quick, I promise.”

[1:30 PM, Free Choice]

“Everybody gets a celestial weapon,” Miranda explains as they walk to the armory, “It KOs the monster and turns them into gold dust if it nicks them in the flesh just enough.”

Gold dust… like the gold dust Lee comes back sometimes covered in?

She leads him to an unassuming building beside one of the cabins, opening the door and revealing shelves stocked full of weapons. Miranda strides to the back without a double-take. Like it’s normal for a summer camp with children to have a stockpile meant for war.

“Do you have a preference?”

“I… uh…”

“Want some help? Based on what I saw in training, I think you’re better suited with something long-range. You looked uncomfortable with a sword. Aha! What about this?“

Then Miranda pulls out a rifle from one of the boxes.

Michael stares at it for a full second, wondering if he’s imagining it, wondering if Miranda is kidding, wondering if this whole day is just one big funny dream. But, no, Miranda remains standing there with a big ol’ grin and rifle in hand and waiting for them to say something.

“No.”

“What? Why not?”

“First of all, it’s a gun. Second of all, I share a room with two of my siblings who get into my shit all the time. Third, my mom would literally kill me if she sees me holding a rifle. And fourth, it’s a fucking gun .”

”It’s okay. This is a magic rifle. If you engage the safety and remove the magazine clip, it turns into a telescope.” Miranda demonstrates it for him and would you look at that. It actually became a telescope. “See? No problem. Mom won’t find out and plus! It actually works as a telescope! You can go stargazing with this thing and also kick any monster-butt.”

“What happens if it goes off and a bullet hits someone?”

“That’s okay too. The bullets are made of celestial metal. It can’t harm mortals.”

“But it’s a gun. And I don’t have a license.”

Miranda shrugs. “You can’t kill a mortal though. I don’t think you need a license if you seriously can’t hurt anyone. But if you don’t want a gun, then we can get you a bow. Apollo’s cabin is full of them. Come on.”

And as Michael follows Miranda out, he mutters under his breath, “Why are you all like this?”

Miranda laughs, spinning around her heels to face him.

“And you’re like a completely normal kid. If you didn’t pass the barrier, I would have thought Lee brought someone fully human.”

[2:20 PM, Free Choice]

“What is that?”

Lee does only a cursory glance at where Michael is pointing before going back to tuning his guitar engraved with his name and last initial on the Big House’s porch. “It’s Thalia’s Pine. Someone poisoned it unfortunately. A couple years ago a girl sacrificed herself to save her friends. Her father turned her dying body into a magic tree that protects all of camp. We’re trying to fix it, but it’s kinda slow-going right now.”

“That’s cool. That’s cool, but I’m talking about that .”

And Lee really looks at where Michael is pointing at. A … well, he doesn’t want to say robotic because there’s no way a robot can move that fluidly, but fine. A metallic bull the size of an elephant is charging towards them, running full speed but going nowhere. It’s like an invisible wall is holding it back. Just a bit aways are five people in a line in full bronze armor and a variety of weapons with two more people running towards them. A girl with a gruff voice is ordering to get into position.

“Is this some sort of play?” Michael asks, waiting for Lee’s answers but when there’s none, he turns to face him. “Lee?”

Lee is pale. His guitar falls out of his hands as he stands.

Michael tenses, alarmed. “Lee?”

“Shit,” Lee curses for the first time ever. “Fuck.”

Now Michael is really worried. “What’s wrong? What’s going on?”

Lee whirs to face him and Michael doesn’t like the fear, the panic he sees in Lee’s usually calm eyes.

“Michael, Beckendorf is in the forge. Get him first. Tell him there is a Colchis Bull at Half Blood Hill. Then go get Travis and Connor next — Hey? Michael, are you there?”

A second bull crashes into the invisible wall and they break through. They’re breathing fire. People are being set on fire. People are having their armor melted off. People are being burned. People are being trampled on. People are—

“Michael!” Lee shakes him hard by the shoulder. “Don’t look at it. Just go run and get Beckendorf.”

Then he’s forcibly turned around and pushed away to the sound of terrified screams and dying cries.

[3:00 PM, Free Choice]

So that’s a monster.

And he’s expected to fight one of them?

The guy who took out the first bull —Percy he thinks is the name — Percy did it with a little help with a flame-resistant man and Percy is about the same age as him. And Clarisse took out the second bull all by herself. So it’s definitely possible. With training and maybe a bow instead of a sword, Michael can do it.

He can do it.

…

Just because it’s possible, doesn’t mean it’s right. Doesn‘t mean it’s normal and fuck.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

How can anyone not see how messed up this whole thing is? Monsters exist and they eat twerps like him? They’ll hunt him for as long as he lives? He’s always going to have to watch his back? He’s always going to have a weapon on him? This is what his day will be like every day? This is normal? This is what being a demigod means?

From the porch of the Big House, Michael watches Travis and Connor, amongst a few others with just as many beads on their necklaces, triaging the injured. Passing around nectar bottles and ambrosia brownies, helping them stand, checking their wounds all with an air of professionalism.

They were trained for this. They prepared for this.

Michael doesn’t like that little fact.

And speaking of little facts he doesn’t like, one just sits down next to him. When he’s not standing around like a dumbass, he goes to get more nectar bottles from the infirmary where a team of two people is running around tending to the patients. One is Lee. The other, and the clear leader, is the boy in blue scrubs and yellow flip flops. The kid barked orders left and right, telling people where to go, where to place the patients, how to treat the minor wounds until he can get there, basically keeping everything orderly and efficient, all with this air of confidence and calmness. It would have been very reassuring if the kid himself wasn’t this little, baby-faced 11-year-old.

And said 11-year-old is now sitting down beside him, downing a bottle of water then downing half a bottle of red Gatorade.

Michael is starting to see why Lee doesn’t want his mom to know where Camp Half Blood is. If she ever visited and saw how the camp is being run primarily by pre-teens and teens… well… she’ll probably lose it.

“Hey,” the kid says.

“Hey,” Michael replies, cautiously.

Then, silence.

The most awkward silence he has ever experienced as they just sit side by side.

The kid takes another sip from the Gatorade.

“You’re Michael, right? You’re Lee’s upstairs friend?”

Michael bristles at the words. “How did you—“

“When the cabins burned down, we stayed at Lee’s apartment for a couple days,” the kid explains, staring at Travis and Connor milling about the battlegrounds. He fidgets with a bandaid on the back of his hand. “This is going to sound really weird, but I thought I heard his voice and your last names match so it might not be my imagination. But do you have a younger brother named Raphael?”

“Yeah, I do. How do you know that?” Michael says, trying and failing to tone back the defensiveness in his voice. God please don’t let Raphie be a demigod like him.

The kid breaks into a big smile and it really makes him look like the child he is. “We used to be in a class together with Mrs. Rem. How is he by the way? Is he still watching Ninja Turtles? What did he think of the newest episode?”

Distantly, from a dinner chat a long time ago, Raphael mentioned a ‘Will’ who left class because of a stomach ache and was never seen again. He remembered Raphael being really worried. He remembered Raphael even saying that ‘Will doesn’t ever get sick’ and he remembered dismissively saying, “Don’t worry. The kid’s probably fine.”

There’s no way the kid next to him is that Will. It has to be a coincidence. It got to be. Forget how this kid knows Raphael is a fan of Ninja Turtles. It’s a popular show right now. Somewhere, in this 6.6 billion populated planet, there’s got to be a Will and a Raphael who both go to the same school with a 5th-grade teacher named Mrs. Rem and both watch Ninja Turtles and both love Raphael the sai-welding turtle.

“You went to Hodgkins Elementary School?”

“Yeah.”

There’s still a chance this is all a coincidence.

“Your favorite turtle is Raph?”

“Well, it’s Leo now but I used to like Raph.”

Still a coincidence.

“And your name’s Will?”

“It is.”

Just one big coincidence.

“And you left the classroom—” Michael wracks his brain — when, when did Raphael talked about the kid? — “Because of a stomach ache back in October?”

For a minute, Will is silent. A minute filled with nothing but the whistle of the wind and commanding yells of campers. Will chuckles, low, as the plastic bottle crinkles in his hands. But when Will speaks, his voice is carefully blank, devoid of emotion. “Not exactly, no. I saw something strange at school that nobody could see and I called my mom, er, my aunt. But she raised me so I considered her my mom. She said to get out, even if I have to lie. So I did. A stomach ache was the easiest to fake. She picked me up from school. I think she was going to take me to camp. But on the drive here… a cyclops showed up and totaled the car. We ran. She told me to go ahead and get help. And I did. Without looking back. I found Lee and he took care of the cyclops but mom… ”

The kid’s voice is still blank. Emotionless.

“She died because of me.”

A bitter smile.

“Because I was too weak. Because I was too scared.”

The bottle bursts in his hand, the red dripping off his hand and staining his scrubs.

“No one is ever going to die because of me. Not again. Not ever.”

The kid leaves, running back inside when someone screams bloody murder and another voice yells, “Solace!”

(“Will’s last name was on our vocab lists,” Raphael had said a long time ago. “Solace. It means comfort. That’s so cool. No way can I forget that.”)

Michael continues to sit there, watching the battlefield empty out one camper at a time until everyone injured has been attended to.

(“She died. Because of me. Weak. Scared.”)

Weak. He understands. Too scared. He understands that too. He experienced all that today with the bulls.

If it had been at home with his family, at school with his classmates, even at the park with random strangers, what would have happened? He would have fought, right? Adrenaline would have kicked in and he would do something. Or would he have frozen? Just like he did today? Just stood there, watching his family be stomped and kicked and lit on fire until someone kicked him into gear? (“Run, Michael. Don’t look back.”)

No.

No. Fuck no. Three months. He has three months of this summer camp / orphanage / ‘let’s-all-become-child-soldiers-together!’ hellhole. He has three months to kick this stupid deer in the headlights reaction.

(“She died because of me.”)

He’s not going to let anyone die.

[5:00 PM, Free Time]

He finds them in the cabin, one slumped on the bed with an arm over his eyes and the other sitting at the foot with a sketch of the cabin in one hand and a pencil in the other.

They’re talking about something secret because as soon as Michael slams the cabin door open, their conversation stops. He catches the last sentence though. Are the nightmares getting worse? And god, if these two are okay with everything that just happened today, just handled it all with a face that says this is nothing, then Michael doesn’t want to know what kind of nightmares are troubling them.

“What’s up?” Connor or Travis, the one on his back, asks, trying and failing to get upright. The arm moves and tired eyes peek at him from underneath.

“Is it Lee? Does he need us again?” the other asks, tossing the drawing under the bed.

“You said, whatever problems we have, we can come to you two,” Michael starts.

They nod together in sync.

“Then I want you guys to train me until I drop dead. Now until the end of summer.”

[6:00 PM, Dinner]

He barely has his food on the plate when a bright light shines over his head. Flashy. Illuminating. Almost eye-blinding. Michael looks up, squints, and sees the sun with 21 arrows surrounding it, representing the sun’s rays.

Distantly, he’s aware of a bored voice proclaiming him as a child of Apollo. But all he’s really focused on is his cabin’s, ex-cabin now he guesses, reactions. He can see all their faces down the line. Most are happy. They smile and cheer for him, patting on him on the back and congratulating him. But he can see it, beneath their grins, beneath the genuine elation, is frustration, jealousy, longing.

(“It's been years.”)

Travis, with his pile of strawberries, bumps him in the shoulder with his own. “Hey, congratulations. Apollo cabin is a lot roomier than ours so you get to actually sleep on a bed.”

Connor nods, tossing an M&M bag into the flames. “Too bad you’re gonna miss the experience of being crammed like sardines on the floor. It’s actually pretty cozy.”

Michael frowns as he conjures up a PB and J sandwich exactly how Mom would make it, cuts it into halves, and toss it in . “Are you guys still going—”

“We’ll still help you,” Travis interrupts, but his smile is impish, borderline devilish. “But—”

“It comes with a price now.” Connor follows with a just as sordid grin. “Two conditions. One, you have to help us with archery. We’re not bad but we’re not good either and could use a bit more work. Annabeth and I have this sparring contest every week to see who is more proficient in what weapon. She beats me every single time when it comes to archery, but that’s ending this year. And two, you have to be our inside man.”

“Inside man?” Michael asks, already kind of knowing what that means.

“Let us into your cabin. Help us set up pranks in your cabin. Tell us everything we want to know about your cabin. You know. That sort of thing,” Travis says flippantly.

And before Michael can reject, accept, do literally anything, Travis turns around and walks to the table with this unbearably cheerful hum. “Will is going to regret ever messing with my diet.”

Connor falls in step with a fond smile. “But seriously, Will has a point. You need to balance your meals a bit more.”

For such nice people , Michael thinks as he’s corralled towards the Apollo table by an ecstatic Lee , they can be such dicks.

[7:00 PM, Volleyball]

“Hey, Lee, when did the monsters start coming for me?” Michael asks as he twirls the volleyball in his hands once, twice and tosses it to Lee. In the background, Michael can hear the yells and cheers of the far more serious, far more competitive match going on. Apparently, there’s a tournament between the cabins and the winner gets bragging rights and no cabin inspection next month.

Lee isn’t participating. “Our cabin is always clean and orderly,” he had said with pride, though that didn’t stop his half-siblings ( my half-siblings) from making a team and participating.

“Eh? The monsters? Uh, l-last year,” Lee says, fumbling the ball just like he’s fumbling the lie.

So it’s been more than a year.

Michael bites his cheeks as he bends his knees and extends his arms to bounce the ball back.

“And you’ve been taking care of them all this time?”

“Well, not all of them,” Lee admits, catching the ball with both hands. “A lot of them went away on their own.”

Liar , sings his guts. He’s lying .

Because Lee is way too nice. Way too selfless. Way too noble to tell the truth that would most definitely hurt.

“Why? Why didn’t you take me to camp earlier? When the monster started coming? Why now?” he bites out, just barely holding back the snarl. You could have saved yourself years of pain, years of trouble.

“Because…” Lee looks over to the courts, to where Travis and Connor are arguing with Annabeth (the moaning myrtle girl, Michael realizes). Something about which team Percy should be on.

(“Your dad is the god of Athletes. Your cabin already have an advantage.”)

(“Okay, but consider this, only Travis and I are claimed. Everyone else on the team could be anyone’s child. And your team is completely made up of god-tier and gifted strategists.”)

(“Your #4 is literally speaking ten languages. He’s got to be a son of Hermes.”)

(“That is a stereotype. Abraham could just be remarkably smart.”)

Lee’s eyes go back to him. “Because I wanted you to have a normal life, to know that there’s more to life than just this. Besides, I’ve been watching you for years. You learn how to do something like it’s nothing after a few minutes. It’s kind of ridiculous and I am lowkey jealous. But if you feel like you’re not ready, I can always—”

“Shut up, idiot. You’re not dropping out of school for me,” Michael grumbles, Lee’s stupid chuckle not at all comforting.

“I heard you guys are in a war,” Michael says, “Are you fighting in it?”

Lee serves the ball over, high and easy to hit. “Yeah. It feels wrong not to.”

And Michael spikes it back as hard as he can. “But you’re going to college in a few months.”

Lee shrugs, easily leaning forward and kicking it back high into the air for another easy hit. “Julliard is close enough to camp.”

Michael catches it, tucking it under an arm. “That’s not what I meant. What’s the point of going to college if you might lose an arm or leg fighting in this stupid war? You should just focus on school.”

Lee laughs of all things. “That’s nothing. Will fixed worse.”

Michael bristles at Lee's casualness. “Well, if you’re gonna fight, then I am going too.”

Lee laughs again, tenser this time. “You think your mom is gonna let you?”

“She lets you!”

“Because she doesn’t know what I’m doing. And I’m not the one living with her. Besides, do you even know what we are fighting for?”

“Of course, I do! The enemy is K—” Crap. He never got the full name or title of the bad guy. And somehow he feels like saying Cabin 11’s made up name isn’t going to make Lee take him any more seriously. “I’ll learn more about it. Besides, you’re a great guy. I’m sure you’re fighting for the good guys.”

“Michael, your faith in me is nice but getting involved without knowing the full story is dumb. You’re not fighting.”

“Yes, I am.”

“No, you’re not.”

“Yes, I —”

Lee’s face hardened the way it does when he’s mad or worried or dead serious. Like that one time Leo microwaved a spoon. Like when Raphael tried to jump down a flight of stairs for a dare. Like when Carly and Sam ran onto the streets without looking. And crap. Michael is 14, practically an adult. He shouldn’t be cowing under Lee’s hard stare anymore. But he is and he’s (slightly, only just slightly) scared.

“No, you’re not,” Lee says, “Because I don’t want you to fight when you have so little experience. Because your mom will literally kill me if something, anything happens to you. Because something bad will happen to you if you do join this fight. So no. You’re not going to fight. You’re not going to participate. You’re only here to train and enjoy camp life.”

“Fine. Fine. I won’t,” Michael grumbles, ducking his head. “Sheesh, you make it sound like if I join, the camp is done for.”

The hard stare melts back into that familiar, soft, (almost) carefree aura with a shrug and small smile. “I just have a feeling. It’s good to trust your instincts.”

And my instincts are telling me right now that you need to quit. But Michael is pretty sure Lee won’t appreciate it and moves the conversation to the climbing wall and why it’s on fire.

[9:00 PM, Campfire Song]

“Mom,” Michael says, the phone pressed against his ears. He looks out the window, watching the vibrant flame of the bonfire climb high into the starry skies and the circles of cheerful campers surrounding it.

“Michael, I was wondering when you would call. How’s camp? Do you like it?”

“Camp is…Camp is great. Lots of activity. Really unique. I—” I like it dies on his tongue. He doesn’t like it. He might have if there was a bit less training. Luckily his mother didn’t catch that pause.

“That’s great! Made any new — Carly Yew, are those markers I see in your hands? You better not draw on the walls. Get some paper, baby, okay? Made any new friends?”

“A few.”

“You should invite them over! We can have a nice little movie night together.”

Michael frowns as he recalls someone, somewhere, saying not to gather in more than threes outside the barrier. It attracts the monsters apparently and Michael isn’t about to test that. “They can't. They’re busy. They’re like—um—they’re head counselors, you see, and have a lot of duties.” Like practically running the camp but he doesn’t think Mom would appreciate knowing that.

“Well, it’s nice to see you make friends even if they’re a bit older.”

Are Travis and Connor older than him? Possibly. They exude confidence that no normal teen has. Or maybe they have just been here for a long time. And that is all kinds of sad.

His mom asks him about his day, what he did, if he has something he really likes, and for the next hour, Michael goes into a heavily censored, G-rated, parent-safe tale of his first day at Camp Half Blood. It could have been worse. On his way to the Big House to use the phone, he overheard an older boy telling a couple newbies how a kid fought a Minotaur on his first day here and a girl having to sacrifice herself for her friends.

Wow, it would suck to be them.

[11:00 PM]

He meets dad in his dreams.

Michael doesn’t know why, but he thought Apollo to be a refined god. A serious god. A graceful god.

Instead he sees a teenager sporting pilot shades and leaning on a flaming red sports car in the dingy parking lot of Camp Half Blood with the early morning sun just breaking the horizon.

“Dad?” Michael says, (who else could it be?) but still not really sure. “Uh, Apollo?”

And the teen waves, flashing a smile that nearly blinds him. “Michael! It’s so good to finally meet you.”

Before Michael could react, the teen — Apollo — dad — pulls him into a crushing hug that knocks all the air out of his lungs.

Apollo is strangely… warm. But not overbearingly warm. Warm like first snuggling into bed under the covers. Plus he smells like laurel leaves, sweet and bright. And Michael has a vivid flashback of his mom — younger, much much younger — in the hospital bed smiling at a man in his mid-twenties with a bundle of sheets in his arm.

Michael blinks as Apollo pulls away, holding him at arm's length and looking him up and down with a musing stare.

“You resemble your mom more than me,” Apollo says with a nod, “Most of my children tend to take after my looks, but you’re different, Mike. I have to say, I like it! I can’t stay long. Godly matters I have to attend to, you know? Here, I got you a gift for making it so far in life. Tell Audrey I miss her and think sweetly about the time we spent together.”

Apollo is pressing a guitar into his hands with his name engraved in the body and stepping back to get into his car. It’s exactly the same as the guitar Lee has except for the engraving. So not unique by any means. But it is a gift. And mom would kill him for rejecting a gift. It’s rude she says, but Michael doesn’t care about Apollo enough yet to give a fuck. Besides if Lee’s experience is anything to go by, this is probably the last time he’ll ever talk to his dad. He needs to make this moment count for something.

“Wait.”

Apollo pauses just as the engine roars to life, purring sweetly and the window rolled down.

“I want to ask for something else.”

Apollo blinks and Michael can see the inkling of annoyance in the young face, but Apollo nods and says without a lick of irritation in his voice, “Sure, shoot.”

“I want you to spend more time with Lee.” Then Michael has a realization. “You know who Lee is, right? The oldest one in the cabin? About to go to Julliard? Want to become a teacher?”

Now Apollo is definitely irked, a telltale wrinkle in his brow. Michael can now add ‘gods’ to the list of people he can make pissed off. “Of course I know Lee, my little music enthusiast child. How could I not? But I’m a God, Michael. There’s only so much free time I have.”

“Then just a few minutes a week, or even a month. So he knows you care.”

Again a slight scowl, but it lingers for a few seconds more.

“I do care but okay. Okay, I will.” Apollo shifts the car into drive still a little annoyed. Michael thought that was it. Any minute now he’s going to wake up and start the day, but Apollo sighs, leans back in the leather seat, and hangs an elbow out the window. “Michael, you’re so much like your mother. Caring. Gutsy. Compassionate. It’s crazy how much you resemble her. You’re going to do great things. You’re—” The annoyance drops and for a brief second, Apollo looks grief-stricken. And once again, Michael dreams of falling, of a bridge, of a boat wafting through a chasm of fire. But Apollo smiles that blinding smile, fond, and shakes his head.

“Don’t worry so much about your family. They’re going to be fine. You’re going to be fine.”

Michael wakes up just as the car drives off, his gut itching.

Apollo is lying to you.

#fanfiction #ao3 #archive of our own #my writing #travis stoll #connor stoll #michael yew #lee fletcher #will solace #miranda gardiner #pjo #percy jackson

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lovemesomesurveys · 4 years ago

Text

an internet/social media survey. 1 - Are you one of those people who shares absolutely everything on social media? What do you think about those who do? I do tend to overshare in surveys and I share quite a bit on Twitter. I’m pretty quiet on my other social media sites, though, in terms of that. It only bugs me when people share something and then someone asks about it and they’re like, “I don’t want to share it on here” or “I don’t want to talk about it.” You just did, though? Why post about it then? Plus, my nosy ass wants to know haha. I see that all the time on Facebook.

2 - Does anyone in "real life" know that you take surveys? Would you be embarrassed if they found your blog? I don’t think so. Back in the Myspace days people knew cause I posted them there, but no one in “real life” follows me on here. I’m surprised I shared those back then cause I don’t want anyone to see them now. Although, I wasn’t as open back then in surveys. I took the more basic ones and didn’t elaborate like I do now.

3 - When you receive a text message, do you reply straight away or wait a little while instead? It depends.

4 - Who was the last person you blocked on social media? Did you have an argument that lead to that happening? I don’t recall. It was probably some spam account on here.

5 - Aside from Tumblr, what websites do you spend the most time on? I spend a lot of time on YouTube.

6 - What was the first social media account you remember signing up for? Are you still a member of that particular website, if it even still exists? Ooh. I’ve had an online and social media presence for so long... like it was probably something that doesn’t even exist now. I remember some teen sites I was on that I guess were like the social medias of the day. For example, there was this one website I remember called Kiwibox, where you could interact with other people, post stuff, and it shared like trending topics and whatnot that I was a member of in the early 2000s. It was pre-Myspace. I don’t think it even exists now, but if it did I’m sure my account was deleted long ago for being inactive.

7 - How many social media accounts do you have now? Do you use them all regularly? If not, which ones do you think you update the most and why? I’m on all the common ones. I use them all, but I’m more active on some than others. Some I check regularly but rarely post. For instance, I’m super active on here and I post on Twitter quite a bit. I check Facebook a few times a day and “like” some stuff, but I very rarely post. I check Instagram and Snapchat, but not daily and I rarely post or even interact on there. I spend the least amount of time on those two.

8 - Are there are any popular apps/social media sites that you've never got into or signed up for? How come? Hmm. Like I said, I have all the main ones I think.

9 - Do you take surveys on any other website apart from Tumblr? Nope.

10 - Before Tumblr existed, what kind of blogging site did you use (eg. LiveJournal, Xanga etc.). I had a Xanga and LJ account.

11 - Is there anything you miss about websites like MySpace, or do you prefer social media the way it is now? The Myspace days were interesting that’s for sure. I miss the hype of changing up my page and adding stuff, picking my profile song, rearranging my top 8, changing my display name, follow forever trains, comment 4 comments... haha what a ride.

12 - How old were you when you first got the internet at home? Was it broadband/wireless or did you use dial-up? I remember it wasn’t long after my brother was born, so it was sometime in 1999. I remember when my mom brought home our first computer. Those were the days of dial up/AOL. Gah, I do not miss that.

13 - Are you old enough to remember life without any kind of internet access whatsoever? What kind of things did you do to fill the time? Ha, yeah. It’s crazy to think of the days before the internet, but I did have them. I actually used to play outside *gasp* That’s shocking cause ya’ll know I’m a hermit crab. I used to get so tan back then cause I spent so much time outside. Other things I used to do was play Barbies for hours, play with my cousins, read, color, and watch TV.

14 - Have you ever gotten into an argument with a stranger online before? Lol yeah.

15 - Overall, would you say social media is a good thing or a bad thing, or does it depend on how you choose to use it? It definitely has its pros and cons. There’s a dark side to social media and the internet in general, but a lot of good can be done with it as well.

16 - How much time do you think you spend online each day? Is this something that varies depending on the weather? I spend a decent amount of time online for sure, but it does vary. The weather has absolutely nothing to do with it.

17 - If your internet went off right now and you knew it wouldn't come back on for several hours, what would you go and do instead? Well, it’s 3:50AM so I’d watch some TV and attempt to go to bed.

18 - Since getting the internet, what's the longest period of time you've gone without access to it? Did you miss it as much as you thought you might? Probably the times I had surgery. I didn’t have to go completely without because once I was able to I was able to rent laptops that were available for patient use or access a computer while there. That was really nice during the couple times I had to spend a few months in the hospital. Even the shorter stays, like a week or two, I had some access at some point. But yeah, I definitely wasn’t on nearly as much during those times. Not at all the first few days/week. Then when I was back home and had my laptop I still wouldn’t feel up to spending much online. I did miss it, but I spent so much time resting and sleeping during the early stages of recovery so it was fine for awhile. I did start to get stir crazy, though.

19 - What's something you find yourself doing less of because you spend too much time online? Hm. I can’t think of anything I do less for that particular reason.

20 - What websites do you spend the most time on? Do these fall into any particular category or are they just random? Tumblr, YouTube, Facebook, and Twitter.

21 - What website from your childhood/teen years do you wish still existed? I miss Xanga a lot. The survey community was poppin back then. I miss the days, not so much the websites themselves, of Myspace, Neopets, playing games on Disney Channel’s and Nickelodeon’s websites, making dolls, and the AOL teen message boards. Good times, good times. Much nostalgia.

22 - Have you ever met up with anyone in real life that you first met via the internet? Did you get on as well as you thought you would? Nope. I had online friends back in the day that I talked to all the time and actually texted with. I even talked to them on the phone a couple times. :O That was during my Jonas Brothers days and I got close to a few people that I met through a Jonas Brothers’ message board and chatroom. I was pretty involved on there. I can’t believe I used to do that cause I wouldn’t do that now.

23 - What's your thoughts on internet dating and is it something you would ever consider for yourself? I probably wouldn’t do it myself, but hey if that works for people then go for it. *shrug*

24 - Do you tend to shop more online or in person? Is that something that's changed since the start of the COVID-19 pandemic? I do all my shopping online now since the pandemic hit, but even for a few years prior I was doing most of my shopping online.

25 - Speaking of the pandemic, did you find all the stories on social media quite scary or overwhelming at the beginning? Absolutely.

26 - If someone on social media annoys or upsets you, are you likely to tell them or just hit the hide/block buttons? Nah, I’ll just keep on scrolling. If it’s that bad then I’d likely mute or just delete.

27 - Are there topics you won't post on social media about, simply because they always end up in an argument? I don’t post about politics.

28 - Are you friends with your parents and family members online? Do you limit what you say because you know they can see it? Yes and yes. Like, even though I don’t post anything bad or risqué lol I still hide some stuff from my grandparents just because they wouldn’t get it, ya know? I’ve done that before and my Nana called my dad and asked if I was okay cause I posted some relatable self-deprecating meme or something haha. It’s sweet of course that she cares, but yeah I didn’t want her to get worried and concerned over stuff like that.

29 - Are you using the internet for anything else except this survey right now? I’m watching ASMR videos on YouTube as well.

30 - Do you access the internet more via a phone, tablet or laptop/PC? Which device do you prefer overall? I use my phone a lot for certain things and my laptop for others. Like, I much prefer the Facebook and Twitter apps, and I access Snapchat, Instagram, TikTok, the Kindle app, and my email on my phone as well. I use both for YouTube. I only like to access Tumblr on my laptop, though, as well as Pinterest.

#personal #text #survey #surveys #internet #social media

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lindalevanimamm · 4 years ago

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Reality- Chapter 13

Tomorrow is the first RFA party that I organized. I had begun working on it a few weeks ago, it’s going to be a small party. It’s small mostly because the organization hasn’t gotten big yet, so we’re having to make new connections. I’m nervous about it. I worked really hard to get people to come, and planned it all, so I can only hope that it will be a success. Saeyoung has still been on edge about the agency being here, but nothing has happened. There’s been so sign of any of them. I’ve been doing my best to comfort him about it, but he can’t shake the feeling that something is going to happen. From what he’s told me, the agency is not good and they’ve caused him a lot of trauma. I’m trying to prepare for the party tomorrow, by relaxing.

I’m not good at it, but I’ve got the bath water going and face masks prepared. I turned the water off and threw in a bath bomb and bubbles. I then grabbed a face mask and applied it before getting in the water. It was warm, and nice. I turned on some music and listened. I quickly grew bored. How do girls just chill in a bath for so long? It was relaxing for a whole 5 minutes, but now I’m bored. Thankfully, I heard my phone go off from the other side of the bathroom. I carefully got up, and reached across for it, trying to stay in the bath. I got water absolutely everywhere, but I managed to grab my phone. Thank God this bathroom isn’t huge. I got comfortable and unlocked my phone.

Saeyoung: heyy are you ready for tomorrow?

(Y/N): I’m getting ready

Saeyoung: what does that mean?

(Y/N): it means I’m trying to relax by taking a bath, but I’m bored already

Saeyoung: *blushing emoji*

Saeyoung: so I probably shouldn’t hack into your phone to see you?

(Y/N): I will hurt you and never talk to you again perv

Saeyoung: I’m kidding!

Saeyoung: you doing a face mask and everything?

I sighed and took a selfie, making sure only my face showed. I’m not comfortable with that kind of stuff yet, but a selfie sure.

(Y/N): *selfie*

Saeyoung: aawww my little ghost

(Y/N): aww my stupid boyfriend who threatens to hack my phone when im in the bath

Saeyoung: :(

(Y/N): :)

(Y/N): what about you are you ready for tomorrow?

Saeyoung: im still nervous about the agency...I really thought that was my boss the other week

(Y/N): but both you and Saeran have looked into it again right?

Saeyoung: yeah…

(Y/N): and you both found nothing?

Saeeyoung: yes

(Y/N): then there’s nothing to worry about. You all would have found something, you’re both smarter than the agency

Saeyoung: yeah I guess

(Y/N): well I’m not guessing. I trust you. Nothing is going to happen. You’re the one that organized all of the security for the party, so it’ll be safe.

Saeyoung: I hope so

Saeyoung: how are you feeling about it?

(Y/N): I feel like everyone will be safe if that’s what you’re asking?

Saeyoung: well, yes, but also no. I mean are you nervous about how it’ll go?

(Y/N): Oh, yeah I’m super nervous about it. What if no one even shows up? I put a lot of work in it, and I don’t want it to be a flop

Saeyoung: well, if no one shows up then I guess the 7 of us will party alone

(Y/N): yeah…

Saeyoung: I’m sure it won’t be a flop, people will show up

(Y/N): thanks

(Y/N): well I’m going to get out of this bath and get ready for bed. Talk to you later?

Saeyoung: always

I got out of the bath and put a robe on, before letting the water drain. I took off the face mask and rinsed my face. I looked in the mirror and frowned. I really hope it turns out fine. I hope people come. I brushed my teeth and all that before leaving to go to my bedroom and changing into pajamas. I looked at my phone and noticed everyone was in a chatroom. I got on and talked to them all for a good hour. We talked about tomorrow. Everyone is excited for the party and is sure it’ll be a success. I still don’t know if it will be. I started to get a headache from looking at my phone for so long and thinking about tomorrow. I told everyone to have a goodnight before logging out of the chatroom. I got up and took a few painkillers for my headache before heading to sleep. Before I set my phone on my night stand I noticed Saeyoung had texted me once again.

Saeyoung: I’ll be there around 2 to pick you up okay?

Saeyoung: Don’t feel too nervous about tomorrow. Have a good night :)

(Y/N): thanks sae :). Goodnight.

I woke up with a massive headache. I groaned as I rolled over to check the time. I felt around my nightstand for my phone, but it wasn’t there. I opened my eyes and a wave of panic fell over me. Why am I here? What? I sat up and took in my surroundings. I was in my universe, not Saeyoung’s. I don’t understand, I didn’t go through the portal. What is happening? The party was supposed to be today, what do I do? I don’t have a phone, where is it? I quickly got out of the bed and looked for my phone. I had no luck. I guess only I came back to this universe. I felt a panic attack quickly approaching me. How am I here? Did something happen? Is Saeyoung okay? How do I contact them? What do I do? I curled up and cried. It was the first time I had cried in a while. After about half an hour, I calmed down and started thinking. What do I do first? I don’t have anyone I can call or anything here… the portal! I’ll just go back through the portal to their universe and then I can ask Saeyoung what is happening. I got up and then realized I was still in pajamas. I ran to my kitchen and took more painkillers. I don’t care how bad I feel, I need to get back. I then found some clothes and threw them on before grabbing my keys and leaving. I had left a wallet here with this universe’s currency, so I was able to get on the bus. I sat on the bus and anxiously waited for the stop. The portal was not close. My legs bounced and I worried. I avoided eye contact with people around me. I knew I probably looked like a mess. I somehow am back in this universe, and then I had a panic attack. My head is killing me and I didn’t bother with make up or anything, because I need to find out what’s happening, if everyone is okay. When the bus finally made it to the stop, I jumped up and practically ran to the apartment. I ran inside and to the door, before I remembered I didn’t know how to get in. The main lock was a code. I thought and tried every combination I could. I smiled when I tried my birthday and it unlocked. It somehow unlocked all of the crazy locks on the door. I know Saeyoung isn’t stupid enough to use the same code for each lock, so he must have programmed it to do this for me and this specific code. I opened the door and walked in. My stomach dropped. There used to be a huge portal in the middle of the living room, but now it was everywhere. It looked like someone had come in and smashed it to pieces. Parts of metal were sprinkled throughout the living room. I fell to my knees. Something happened. I can’t fix it. I can’t contact Saeyoung. Just when I was feeling better, this happened. I was hoping I’d come here and just walk back through the portal, but that’s not happening. I broke down completely. I don’t know how long I sat in that living room and sobbed. I was at a loss for what I should do. Eventually, I ran out of tears. My throat was sore, my body felt weak, and my head was pounding harder than it ever had. I feel like I just lost everything. I lost my friends, my new life, and my happiness. I can’t just sit here and give up, there has to be a way to contact Saeyoung again. I got up and left the apartment, there is nothing I can do to fix the portal, I have no idea how it all works. I got back on the bus and headed to my old apartment. Once there, I grabbed some money and left again.

I headed to the nearest store. I decided to head straight to the electronic section to buy a phone. My best bet at talking to everyone again, started with me getting a phone. I looked through the section and decided on one that wouldn’t destroy my bank account. I then walked through the store and grabbed a few groceries. I didn’t know how long I’d be back, but I’d need food. I need to pick up a few more clothes, and some essentials. I paid and quickly made it back to my apartment. I first decided to eat, because I was starving. I made a quick meal and ate quickly. I pulled out the phone and set it up. Now what? I downloaded the game, and opened it up. I began playing immediately. Nothing. This isn’t them, it’s just the game. What can I do? How can I let Saeyoung know it’s me? I have no idea what to do. I decided it was a long shot, but I went to the internet. I sat and read hundreds of thousands of articles and threads about alternate universes, but none of them helped. I’ll have to trust Saeyoung. He’ll look for me, right? But what if he doesn’t care enough to? He couldn’t like you… Stop. I got up and looked at the time. It was the first time I noticed what day it was. What? It’s Sunday? No, that means...the RFA party already happened. I must have been out for an entire day again when I came back. My whole body hurt, and I was tired of thinking. I have no idea what to do. What can I do? Maybe I’ll try figuring out how to fix the portal...yeah right, it’s not even worth me trying. I’ll never get it. For now I’ll just wait. I’ll stay here and keep playing the game, hoping Saeyoung will find a way. He will. I decided to just sleep for the night. It was still early, only like 6:30, but I was tired. I didn’t want to think any longer.

Saeyoung’s POV:

After getting ready I left the bunker to go pick up (Y/N). I left early because they hadn’t been answering my messages all morning. Maybe they just slept in, they still have a while until we need to be there. What if they’re sick? I drove as fast as I could to their apartment. Once there I knocked on the door and called out their name. They didn’t reply. (Y/N) had given me a key to use, so I unlocked their door and went in. I looked around and didn’t see them. I went to their bedroom and nothing. I started to get worried. Where is (Y/N)? I then noticed their phone was still on their nightstand. (Y/N) wouldn’t just leave their phone, something is wrong. I checked, and sure enough, they hadn’t read any of my messages. I immediately called Saeran. “Saeran?”

“Yeah what’s up? I thought you were getting (Y/N)?” Saeran answered.

“I am, well I was. Something is wrong. (Y/N) isn’t here, and their phone is here. They don’t go anywhere without it. Can you check the cameras?” I asked.

“Yeah give me a second…” I waited for a response. I bit my lip. Where are you? Are you okay? Did something happen? “Weird…” Saeran mumbled.

“What’s weird?” I asked.

“I’m watching now. They got home last night after work it seems, and then nothing. (Y/N) didn’t leave the apartment. From last night until when you got there, no one existed or entered the apartment...you sure (Y/N) isn’t there?”

“Positive. I checked every room. What happened? Did you check nearby cameras?” I asked, growing more concerned.

“Yes, just checked the last one. No sign of them… What’s going on? It’s not like (Y/N) to do anything like this, I thought they were happy,” Saeran drifted off.

“They were. I’m coming back, is something wrong with the portal?” I asked. There was a pause. I could hear Saeran get up from his office to head to the room the portal was in. I heard him stop, and then nothing. “Saeran? What’s going on?”

“The portal is gone,” he stated.

“What do you mean the portal is gone?” I asked, practically yelling.

“It’s just a metal circle, no portal. Something is wrong… I think….I think (Y/N) got sent back to their universe…” I hung up and ran to my car. My mind raced with worry. I have to get back. I don’t know how fast I was going, I’m extremely lucky I wasn’t pulled over is all I know. I ran into the bunker, for once annoyed that the security was so hard to get through. I ran downstairs to the portal. Saeran was there, already sitting with his computer out and running diagnostics. “Find anything?” I asked. He shook his head.

“No, something is off. It’s almost as if it just stopped working, but that doesn’t make sense… it’s almost like someone covered something up,” he replied. I grabbed a computer and sat down. I pulled up the codes and began to work. He was right, it looked as if it just stopped working, but it wouldn’t do that. I checked the math so many times so this wouldn’t happen. The two of us lost track of time, before we were interrupted by a phone call. I picked up my phone, it was Zen. “Yeah?” I answered.

“Saeyoung! What’s going on? Why aren’t you and (Y/N) here yet? Guests are going to start coming. Saeran hasn’t gotten here yet either,” Zen began.

“Listen,” I interrupted. “Don’t freak out, but I think (Y/N) is back in their universe.”

“What?!”

“Something is wrong. Sometime between this morning and last night, they got back. The portal is messed up, it’s too clean. Tell Jaehee, Jumin, and Yoosung we won’t be coming. Saeran and I are going to stay back and figure it out. (Y/N) would want you all to continue with the party,” I instructed him.

“Yeah, uh, okay. I’ll tell them. I hope they’re okay…” he paused. “Yeah okay, call me if you find anything okay?” Zen asked.

“I will, bye,” I hung up and immediately got back to work. The code is to clean for it to have just stopped working. (Y/N) is probably so confused and angry. I’m sorry. I’m coming. After another hour or so, I found something. A code that was not supposed to be there. It was a virus. Someone hacked into the portal and left a virus. The virus made the portal stop, made (Y/N) go back and then covered it up. It’s a damn smart virus. I informed Saeran and we worked to kill the virus. I then stumbled on a line of code and stopped breathing. “They did this…” I paused. “I knew it wasn’t nothing. The agency is trying to get back at me by sending (Y/N) back.” Saeran looked up.

“The agency did this?” he asked. I nodded. “What do they want?”

“They want me to work for them again, if I don’t they’re sending people to hurt (Y/N),” I answered.

“How can they do that if (Y/N) is in their universe?”

“They stole the code. They can make their own portal. We have to take them down and fast. Get this portal working again, I’m going to look for where the agency is hiding.” Hang on a little longer (Y/N), I’m coming. I don’t want to lose you.

#saeyoung choi x reader #saeyoung choi #707 #707 x reader #mystic messenger #fanfic

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puckinghell · 6 years ago

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Ours | Mathew Barzal

Plot: Sometimes it feels like the entire world has an opinion on your relationship... Based on the song “Ours” by Taylor Swift. Word count: 2876 Note: This was supposed to be a super short little drabble but... alas.

It’s early morning and the building is quiet as you approach the elevator. As you press the button to call on it, your boyfriend’s arms wrap around your middle.

“You didn’t have to drive me to work, you know?” you hum, lacing your fingers around Mat’s. “You could’ve slept in. You don’t have practice for another 3 hours.”

“But then I wouldn’t have seen you until tonight.” You can’t see Mat’s face, with him standing behind you, but you can hear the pout in his voice and you can’t help but giggle.

“Clingy.”

“Yep.” He pops the p and quickly kisses your cheek, when the elevator dings and the doors open. He releases you as you step into it. You don’t usually see any of your neighbors when you go to work, seeing as you have to leave for work at 8 and most of your neighbors seem to enjoy sleeping in, but this time your elderly neighbor from down the hall stares at you.

“Good morning, Mrs. Perez,” you say politely, and Mat echoes a good morning too. She doesn’t respond, instead lets her gaze fall onto your boyfriend’s tall frame.

You’re completely dressed up for work, your make up done and your hair curled, but Mat rolled out of bed approximately two minutes before stepping out the door and he’s wearing sweatpants, a worn out Islanders hoodie and has his hair covered by a snapback, sleep still clouding his eyes, and you know you must look like quite the pair, right now. To be honest, you don’t mind it; cuddly looking Mat is your favorite Mat, and usually you’re the one wearing comfy clothes to get ready for your night on the couch watching the Islanders games while Mat is wearing his game day suit, looking handsome as ever.

However, that is not the Mat your neighbor has ever seen, and you can read the disapproval on her face.

To be fair, Mrs. Perez isn’t your favorite neighbor; far from it, in fact. She always has something to complain about when you run into her in the hallways and she never looks happy about anything, and one time she showed up at your door to yell at you for vacuuming so “late at night”.

It had been 6 pm.

She steps out of the elevator first and you trail behind, making sure she’s out the door before you. As soon as she’s out of ear, Mat sighs.

“God, we should’ve taken the stairs.”

You send him a smile. “She’s just a grumpy old lady, babe.”

“She was trying to murder me with her eyes.”

“Good thing you’re not that easy to kill, then.” You gently pat his cheek and his normal easy going demeanor returns as he intertwines his fingers with yours and pulls you towards his car.

You’d been looking forward to a night out with Mat and his friends but as soon as you spot her on the other side of the bar, your mood plummets to below zero and you want nothing more than to just go home.

“You’ve been staring at that glass of wine for about twenty minutes straight,” a familiar voice says in your ear, and you look up to find your boyfriend’s best friend standing beside you. “I could buy you another one if it’s causing that much trouble.”

“Hey, Tito,” you smile. Anthony smiles back and rests his hands on the back of your chair.

“What’s up?”

Your eyes lock on Mat, who is talking to her, and you can’t help but let out a sigh. “Guess who’s here.”

You don’t have to say much more; Anthony’s eyes search the room and when he sees her, when he sees them, his eyes widen.

“Oh,” he says. “You know you have nothing to worry about, right? Mat’s absolutely crazy about you. And they never even really dated. They just kinda… hooked up. A few times.”

His French accent always comes out a bit heavier when he’s been drinking but you understand every word of his sentence, and you really didn’t need him to go into that much detail. You blink, trying to rid the image from your mind. He could’ve just stuck to the “Mat’s crazy about you”. But you don’t tell him that. Instead, you shrug.

“I know.”

You know they weren't actually together the way you and him are, but you also knew she was as close to a serious relationship as Mat had gotten before he met you, and there’s nothing you can do to stop the green eyed monster from taking residence in the pit of your stomach.

Especially because she’s skinny and tall and beautiful and the exact picture of a WAG. And you’re, well, you.

She’s smiling at Mat with her perfectly lip glossed smile and you wish you put a little more effort into your appearance tonight, but you hadn’t counted on having to compete with the ghosts of Mat’s past, had counted on just an easy night out with some of your favorite Isles boys, who had all seen you in worse states. Then she rests her hand on Mat’s arm and you can see that her nails are perfectly manicured all the way from over where you sit, and the only words that come to mind are fuck it, so you tip back the glass of wine in your hand.

“Hey Tito, how about buying me that drink?”

You know Mat was nervous about tonight but it’s crazy how easily he fits in with your family, and how right it feels to have him sitting cross legged on the floor petting your parents’ dog while your mom tells him stories about your childhood. They are stories you didn’t necessarily want to share with him, trying to maintain some kind of dignity, but you can’t help but smile as Mat laughs at a picture of you at 5 years old, wearing some Rangers merch.

“Betrayal,” he gasps, clutching his heart, and your mom sees you staring and smiles at you.

“You’ll be happy to know she’s trying to converge us into Islanders fans, now,” she says, a twinkle in her eyes, and Mat shoots you a cheeky grin.

“Ah, good to know.”

You still give him shit sometimes about you growing up a Ranger fan, telling him that when they play the Rangers, all girlfriend duties are off and you won’t hesitate to root for the opposing team; you figure now that won’t work so well anymore, and mourn the loss of your favorite way of riling up your boyfriend.

Your dad comes out of the kitchen, then, and your nephew is on his heels. Your nephew is 10 years old and your parents watch him when your aunt and uncle are at work sometimes, and when he heard that Mat was coming over he begged and begged until he was allowed to stay over for dinner too. He worships the ground Mat walks on and has already declared he’s the Islanders biggest fan. That might have something to do with the fact that Mat brought him a #13 jersey, too; you’d never seen the kid so excited, and he’s currently wearing it proudly.

The only one who hasn’t seemed to be reeled in by Mat’s charm is your dad, and you’d known he was going to be the toughest. He’s fiercely protective and you don’t think there is any guy in the world who is good enough for you, in his eyes. So far, he hasn’t said or done anything bad, he’s just been distancing himself from the conversation and you know Mat has noticed it too, because he shoots nervous glances towards your dad every time he starts a sentence.

“So, Mathew,” you dad says - you and Mat both told him to just call him Mat, but he’s apparently decided not to - and he sits down on the couch. “Where did you go to college?”

“Uhm.” Mat seems rattled by the question and you wish you could reach out and reassuringly squeeze his hand, but you’re all the way over on the other side of the living room, so instead you send him what you hope is an equally reassuring smile. “I didn’t go to college, sir. I got drafted when I was 18.”

Your dad raises an eyebrow, and your mom is quick to butt in. “Oh, at 18? That’s so young, Mat! You must’ve been real good even then!”

You could kiss your mom for being the reason Mat’s smiling again, and then your nephew throws himself onto the floor next to him.

“When I grow up, I wanna be a hockey player too, Mat! I wanna be just like you!”

Mat ruffles your nephew’s hair and your heart swells three sizes at the scene in front of you, and maybe that’s why you’re too distracted to notice the storm that’s brewing in the room.

“You need to go to college, kid,” your dad snarks towards your nephew. “College makes you smart, and being smart is the most important thing in life.”

You can barely stop yourself from gasping out loud but you see Mat’s face fall, his jaw tighten as his gaze drops to the floor.

“College has nothing to do with being smart, dad,” you say coldly, and your mom stands up suddenly.

“Anyone want any tea?”

Mat’s been moping all night and you’re starting to get annoyed with him. You told him he shouldn’t come over, told him you had so much studying to do that you’d probably be at your desk until the second you collapsed into bed, but he’d insisted, saying you wouldn’t even notice he’s there.

To be fair to him, he hasn’t been talking or even paying attention to you; in fact, he’s watching Netflix with headphones in so you don’t have to hear the sounds, so he’s not actively trying to distract you, but it’s the tension in his shoulders and the exhaustion in his face that’s stopping you from being able to focus on your course material. You sigh, resting your head in your hands as you force your eyes back on your book.

And that’s when Mat lets out a groan and throws his phone against the wall.

“Mat, what the fuck?” you snap, turning around in your chair. He’s ripped his headphones out and pushed the laptop away, and now he’s laying on your bed with his face buried into the pillow, and he looks so defeated that your annoyance ebbs away instantly.

He says something but it’s muffled into the fabric of your pillow, so you close your book and make your way over to the bed.

“What?” you ask, carefully sitting down next to him and resting your hand on his back.

He lifts his head only slightly. “I said, what do you see in me?”

Now you’re confused and it must show, because he groans again, turning onto his back and hiding his face underneath his hands.

You know asking him for an explanation is just gonna end in more confusion on your part, so instead you stand up and pick up his phone. The screen is still unlocked and the title of the article he was apparently reading is staring you in the face.

What’s going on with Mathew Barzal?

You know he’s been on a bit of a cold streak lately but it happens to the best of them - and you’ve told him that, basically every night - and the Islanders are still doing well in the standings so it’s not such a big deal as the media would like to make it seem.

Apparently, your boyfriend thinks it’s a big deal, though.

“Oh babe,” you sigh, locking his phone and putting it in the nightstand, “you know you shouldn’t be reading that.”

He drops his hands from his face and the sorrow in his eyes is so evident that it makes you want to smack him for believing the stupid shit they write about him.

“I didn’t go to college,” he mumbles, and that’s when you remember your dad’s statement and anger surges through your veins once again, “and I’m not smart. Look at you studying; I have no idea what any of it even means! I haven’t studied in years! And I thought it was alright because even if I’m dumb, at least I’m good at hockey, but now I suck at that, too.”

It’s so overdramatic and blown out of proportion and yet you can tell from the look on his face that he’s genuinely upset and your heart breaks, seeing your normally confident - borderline cocky - boyfriend like this.

“Mat, you don’t suck at hockey.” You shake your head. “And you’re not stupid.” You reach up to brush some stray hairs away from his face and he leans into the palm of your hand ever so slightly, just enough for your heart to break even more.

“Baby, you won a Calder! You’re good for more points than almost all of your teammates and your team is going to get to the playoffs, not in spite of you but because of you. And you speak two languages! I barely speak English sometimes. Sure, I could tell you all about the politics of the 17th century in the UK, but do you really care about that? You’re smart in a different way. You have street smarts. You know how to change the oil on my car and how to change a lightbulb without electrocuting yourself and you know fizzy drinks help my stomach aches.”

You let your body fall on top of his and his hands instantly grab hold of your hips, holding you firmly in place against his body. “Is this because of that stupid shit my dad said? You know he’s just being a moody, overprotective idiot.”

Mat shrugs and you can tell he’s mulling your words over in his brain. Then, he gazes up at the ceiling, skillfully avoiding your eyes.

“Not even your neighbor thinks I’m good enough for you, Y/N.”

You snort. “Mrs. Perez? She hates my guts. She hates everyone’s guts. You could be Brad Pitt and she’d hate your guts!”

The corners of Mat’s lips are starting to curl up, although he’s still fighting it. “Are you saying you wish I was Brad Pitt?”

“Well, I didn’t wanna tell you at first, but…” you drawl, and he tugs at your hips harshly. You giggle and lean down, brushing your lips against his temple. “Mathew Barzal, you are the most wonderful guy in this world, and I’m so lucky to call you mine. Besides,” you pout, “you have to deal with my father, but I have to deal with a million girls that are much prettier than me, who all wanna steal you away from me!”

“There’s nobody prettier than you,” Mat says easily and matter-of-factly, and you’d be damned if your heart isn’t fluttering at his words.

You kiss him, then, and he deepens the kiss almost desperately, hands slipping under your shirt - or, his shirt, that you stole - and lips moving frantically against yours. Before you get pulled down in the direction this is obviously going, you pull away, cause you’re not done talking yet.

“Mat, listen to me,” you whisper, and he lets his head fall back into the pillow, his eyes locking with yours now as he waits patiently for you to continue. “It’s not theirs to speculate if it’s wrong or right. Only we get to decide that. So every snide remark from my dad, every dirty look from my neighbor, every flirty smile from your ex, is going to be ignored, because I love you.”

“I love you,” he echoes softly. “What did I do to deserve you?”

You shrug your shoulders, smiling down at him. “I don’t know, be a great guy?”

He tries to kiss you again but you dodge him, pressing your lips against the skin below his ear instead.

“Stop worrying that pretty little mind of yours, please?” Your voice is so soft it’s not even really a whisper, but you know Mat hears you because his hands tighten around your hips. “People throw rocks at things that shine and life can make love look really hard, but what we have is special, and it’s ours. No matter how rough the water gets, my heart is yours, and I will fight for what we have.”

“Even if I didn’t go to college and I never score another goal in my life?” Mat pouts, but this time you can hear the ghost of a smile in his voice and his eyes are twinkling, and you press a few featherlight kisses against his jaw.

“Even then, I’d still choose you.”

“Okay.” The word comes out in a rush of air and then Mat’s hands are cupping your cheeks and lifting your head so he finally has access to your lips, can finally kiss you the way he wants to. And just before he pulls you down into the alternate reality that is just him and his lips against your skin and his smell engulfing you and just him and him and him, you hear him whisper a few words against your lips.

“This love is ours.”

#mathew barzal #mat barzal #new york islanders #hockey one shot #hockey imagine #nhl imagine #nhl one shot #nhl writing #mathew barzal imagine #mat barzal imagine #mat barzal one shot #mathew barzal one shot

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serendipitous-magic · 4 years ago

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Question Game - AKA Oversharing Hour

I was tagged by @the-angry-pixie! And I’m a chronic oversharer, so this was fun. I’ll put most of it under a read more line because there’s a LOT.

1. Do you prefer writing with a black pen or blue pen?

Black. Dunno why.

2. Would you prefer to live in the country or city?

City city city city city city city city. I’m already going fucking batshit as it is, trapped in suburbia. I want to be able to actually do things, anything. Anything other than just being around the house and / or work. (And I felt like this before the pandemic started.) If you live in the city you can walk out your door and be somewhere else within like 5 minutes. A city park, a cafe, a train/subway, a local attraction, a museum, an artist’s booth, an outdoor market, etc. etc.

Living in suburbia is like, well, to go literally anywhere you have to get into your car first and drive like 10 minutes minimum to get out of the neighborhood, and then if you want to go anywhere that’s not the grocery store you have to drive 20 minutes to get to another area of town, and then once you get there that’s the only place you can be without getting into your car again and getting a nice shot of anxiety from having to drive in traffic and have aggressive drivers roar up on your ass because you’re going 5mph above the speed limit and they want to be going 15mph above, and god help you if you have to merge, and oh by the way this is your only option to get around because public transit doesn’t really exist in any useful way in Big Suburbia, and nothing in within walking distance of your house except like 2 playgrounds and maybe one (1) gas station. (I hate it here lmao)

If I was trapped in the country I’d probably be chill with it for about a week, and enjoy the break, and the on day 8 I’d snap and go on a murdering spree out of stir-craziness.

3. If you could learn a new skill what would it be?

I want to learn German and eventually be fluent in it. But since I’ve already started trying to learn and I don’t know if that counts, I’ll say cinematography. As in the actual working of the camera and lighting and all that. I can dream up some pretty striking images but actually getting the camera to do the settings needed to capture them is another story entirely.

4. Do you drink your tea/coffee with sugar?

Nope. I drink coffee and tea both, and I don’t put any kind of sweetener in either of them. I used to put a shitton of sugar in my coffee and honey in my tea, and then I had some mild eating disorder struggles in college and I never got back in the habit of putting stuff in my hot drinks after that. It just tastes wrong now, after being used to plain black coffee.

5. What was your favourite book as a child?

Either the Harry Potter series or The Hobbit. My grandma would take care of me a lot when I was really little because my parents both worked full time to support us, and every single time I was at her house she’d sit us down at the dining room table and read something to me. Not Junie B. Jones or anything, either, but real, big, thick books. I loved the shit out of Harry Potter and The Hobbit; I would request them repeatedly. We pretty much went back and forth; we’d read Harry Potter, and then The Hobbit, and then when a new Harry Potter book came out we’d read that, and then The Hobbit again, and so on and so forth.

6. Do you prefer baths or showers?

Showers. I love baths, they’re magical, but ain’t nobody got time for that unless it’s a special occasion. I got too much shit to do to spend an hour lying in the bathtub.

7. If you could be a mythical creature, which one would it be?

Vampire. Purely on the basis that if I was immortal maybe I’d finally have time to get my to-do list done and accomplish things. I’d miss the sunlight though.

8. Paper or electronic books?

Paper. Here’s the thing, I really want to enjoy ebooks, but they just don’t hold my attention at all. Maybe I’m too conditioned by the internet to have a short attention span when I’m looking at a screen, idk.

9. What is your favourite item of clothing?

I have a dark gray hoodie from the Seattle Aquarium from when I went on a road trip across America with my BFF a few years ago. It’s still my absolute favorite thing. I also enjoy my hiking boots a lot. (I wear them all the time, really they should just be called “everyday boots” haha)

10. Do you like your name or would you like to change it?

I like my name and I would also like to start going by something different. Probably just because I’m a restless soul and I feel the best (and least trapped) when I’m on the move or when things are changing. The second I get somewhere I want to be somewhere else. That’s just how I am. Gwen is a cool name (I’ve personally met maybe 3 people in my whole life with the same name, face-to-face), but there’s a lot attached to that nickname that I don’t necessarily want to carry with me when I eventually escape my hometown and start down a new path.

11. Who is a mentor to you?

A friend and former professor whom I usually refer to online as Producer Man. He’s a producer (as you may have guessed) who kind of took me under his wing after I was in one of his film classes in college. We work together on film projects now and he’s teaching me bit-by-bit (usually by way of long, rambling, tangential stories / lectures) about the industry. He’s a really good guy. Like, he for sure has a case of Old White Guy sometimes, but his heart is absolutely in the right place. “He’s a little confused, but he’s got the spirit.” He’s always leaving $10 tips at coffee places and working himself to the bone to get his students connected to jobs and internships that will help them with their careers.

12. Would you like to be famous and if so, what for?

Yes, my stories. Actually, “famous” is not the right word. It’s just that fame is so tightly associated with success in our society. I want to be successful. Whether I’m widely known or not is pretty inconsequential to me. I want to make stories and I want them to have an impact. Books, film, etc. It’s about as simple as that.

13. Are you a restless sleeper?

Oh yeah. I have trouble sleeping as much as I should because I usually kind of jerk awake in the morning with this vague feeling that I forgot something or that I’m late for something. Also I stay up later than I should because I’m a night owl, and yet I like being up early because early mornings are great. And usually if I dream at all it’s something kind of stressful, like I dream that I forgot something important or did something wrong. I’m a Stressed Bean.

14. Do you consider yourself a romantic person?

I think so, yeah. I’m pretty obsessed with the idea of romance (I mean look at my OTPs), but heteronormativity got me fucked up enough that I’m bad at actually navigating real romantic feelings or relationships because society never prepared me for The Gay.

15. Which element best represents you?

Fire, probably.

16. Who do you want to be closer to?

My mom. We fight a lot and there tends to be a lot of tension between us. It’s a long complicated story. It boils down to, she really hurt me when I came out as not-straight at 15 and she lost all of my trust and even though she’s working on being less homophobic we’re still kind of trying to repair that divide seven years later.

17. Do you miss someone at the moment?

Dude, I miss everyone. I’m an introvert and I’d love to be at a big party right now. I miss socialization. (As does everyone.)

18. Tell us about an early childhood memory.

The first time I experienced deja vu, I was about eehhh 6? And I legitimately believed, for several years of my life, that I had future-predicting abilities. Like, supernatural-level future-predicting abilities. Because I didn’t really know what deja vu was, so I thought, every time it happened, that I had already ~seen~ that moment in my dreams or something. 🤣

19. What is the strangest thing you have eaten?

Hm. (My immature ass brain yells “DICK.” No, brain. Those were dark heteronormative times. Also, grow up.)

Probably some of the sushi in Seattle. I actually love sushi, it’s just that when it has full-on legs and eyeballs I start getting a little squeamish. I like the rolls and the kind where there’s some fish meat laid out on a nice little bed of rice, that’s delicious. But when they brought out the whole shrimp with legs still attached, I was like “How in the (redacted) am I going to chew / swallow that.”

20. What are you most thankful for?

That I happened to be living with family when this pandemic hit. I was supposed to move out (and across the country, actually) as of... like 4 days ago, as it happens. That was the plan. Plane ticket was gonna be booked for 7/15/20. Obviously, things didn’t quite work out that way, because of the pandemic and a few other reasons. But I can’t imagine if I had been in an apartment living with roommates, or in an apartment on my own struggling to get by, when this happened. A lot of people couldn’t pay rent and lost their homes. I was very, very lucky to be where I was, when I was, and very lucky that I have family who let me stay in their house pretty much indefinitely while this clusterfuck of a year happens.

21. Do you like spicy food?

Yes! I looooove spicy thai food especially. I miss the massaman curry from a local Thai place so much 😭

22. Have you ever met someone famous?

Um. Maybe? I met Veronica Roth once at an author talk in the library where I work, although it was before I worked there. And I met some guy from New Zealand who’s famous for his sword fighting skills because my dad does sword fighting stuff. Don’t remember his name though.

23. Do you keep a diary or journal?

Yep. I have to write down everything or I forget. (I often say I have the memory of a goldfish.) Also, I have this compulsion to record and preserve my experiences in life, because I feel like our time on Earth is so fleeting and if I don’t write down what’s important to me, I’ll forget it and lose it.

24. Do you prefer to use a pen or a pencil?

Pen. Pencil gets smudged.

25. What is your star sign?

Scorpio, which is ironic because they’re supposed to be ~hyper sexual~ I guess, and I’m like gray-ace or something in that zone.

26. Do you like your cereal soggy or crunchy?

Crunchy. Who eats soggy cereal? Are you okay? Do you need help? This is an intervention.

27. What would you want your legacy to be?

My stories. Life and sentience, as we experience it, is made up of just that: experience. And I read somewhere that, on some level, the human brain doesn’t differentiate that much between real life experiences and fictional experiences. I think that’s true. If you read or watch or hear the right story, it can really touch you and change the way you see life, or even change the way you live life. Stories have an incredible amount of power, both in individual people’s lives and in larger society. A huge amount of power. I want to be able to give people experiences that will Enrich Their Lives (do I sound like a lifestyle coach yet? 🤦🏼‍♀️), but also stories that actively do good in society. Positive representation, body positivity/neutrality, diversity, healthy relationships (Hollywood has a real problem with that). Hope. It’s the best thing I can think to give society, and storytelling is what I love to do.

28. Do you like reading, what was the last book you read?

I love reading. I wish I did it more. Part of my problem is that I get caught up in the hectic Rat Race of modern society and I never feel like I have time to sit down with a book for hours. Another problem of mine is that I start too many things at once, meaning I currently have like 5-10 (I lost count) books that I started reading, and I want to finish all of them, which means no progress ever gets done on any of them.

I last finished The Goldfinch, and I am currently working on The Secret History, Good Omens, Dune, a book my dad wrote, Directing Actors, Shot by Shot, The Way of Kings and I forget what else.

29. How do you show someone you love them?

Physical affection, acts of service, words of affirmation, quality time, and gifts, in that order. If I’m close to someone, whether romantically or not, I want all the affection. And I’m kind of dying in quarantine.

30. Do you like ice in your drinks?

Depends. I usually don’t put any in, because it’s just gonna water down the drink and get in the way of drinking it (you know when the ice attacks your face?), but I don’t really mind ice in my drinks.

31. What are you afraid of?

Helplessness. I Have Control Issues. ✌️ Also stagnation.

32. What is your favourite scent?

Amber. Or any scent that’s kind of autumn-y. You know what I mean. Some other examples include dryer sheets, wood smoke, cigarette smoke (my big sister used to smoke a long long time ago, and although I never saw her do it, I still associate the scent with her), pine resin, rain, that Mahogany Woods scent from Bath and Bodyworks.

33. Do you address older people by their name or surname?

If they introduce themselves as Pam I call them Pam. If they introduce themselves as Mr. Brown I call them Mr. Brown.

34. If money was not a factor, how would you live your life?

If “money is not a factor” means I have an infinite amount of money to spend as I wish, then: buy land, build film studio complex on land, found company, hire fellow creatives, make movies.

If “money is not a factor” just means that I don’t have to work 40 hours a week to afford rent, then: move to Chicago, rent a nice studio apartment, write stories, maybe work 15 hours a week at a used bookstore or coffee shop to get me out of the house and socialize. Go to museums, go to the park, walk along Lake Michigan, go to gay bars, ride the train, brave the Illinois winters, own a cat, paint, play guitar. Build my actual career on writing / storytelling. Probably also do some filmmaking.

Alternatively: buy an RV (not like an American Trailer Park shitty RV, I’m talking the NOICE ones), buy good film equipment, be a freelancer, live in RV driving around to wherever the next filming location is. Life is a road trip and I’m doing what I love. Writing, storytelling, filmmaking. My home would travel with me. Writing in cafes; roadside attractions; early mornings on the road with coffee in the cup holder as the sun comes up; being able to go anywhere to film; always experiencing something new.

35. Do you prefer swimming in pools or the ocean?

I’ve lived in a landlocked state my whole life, so I guess swimming pools. And, listen, I CANNOT get water in my mouth at the beach without wondering exactly how many kids have peed (or worse) in that water. (I know that’s a thing with pools too, but pools get cleaned.)

36. What would you do if you found £50 on the ground?

Wonder what some poor European is doing in America right now. But if it was $50, I’d probably yell “DID ANYONE DROP THIS?” and then take it if no one speaks up.

37. Have you ever seen a shooting star?

A few times, yeah.

38. What is the one thing you would want to teach your children?

Grades are not the end-all-be-all. Skip some homework assignments to spend time with friends. Skip class sometimes. I’m serious. If you make school your top priority, even over your own personal life, you will come away with good grades and a lot of regret and missed opportunities. Learning is HELLA important, and very very little of it happens inside a school building. Get a 15 hour weekend or after-school job in high school, befriend your coworkers, and have fun with it. Use your paychecks however you want. Join a school club - one that you’re actually interested in. Do stupid shit. Light your textbooks on fire after graduation or go to the 24 hour Wendy’s at 2am with your friends or kiss that person you met at summer camp or sleep on the porch because it’s too hot to sleep inside. Be smart and safe, but follow your whims. If you let yourself fall into routine, apathy will poison you.

39. If you had to have a tattoo, what would it be and where would you get it?

I already have a couple small ones, but the one I want next is a four-leaf clover. Don’t know where. Maybe my right inner wrist or maybe an ankle. Or like behind my ear. Luck has saved me so many times. (See above, with how I happened to be living with family when COVID hit.)

40. What can you hear now?

Swamp cooler downstairs, the clock ticking in my office, cars outside, people moving around the house. I’m surprised the neighbor kids aren’t shrieking their absolute heads off as per the usual.

41. Where do you feel the safest?

When I’m alone and unobserved.

42. What is the one thing you want to overcome/conquer?

TMI warning, but I absolutely despise public bathrooms. How am I expected to pee when there’s somebody sitting like three (3) feet away, with only a partial wall between us, hearing everything that’s going on? My fight or flight response simply will not allow it. It’s too awkward and therefore Not Safe. Either that public restroom has to be empty except for me, or it has to be so loud and bustling that ain’t nobody hearing anything. Anything in-between and I’m in hell.

43. If you could travel back to any era, what would it be?

The ‘80s. Let’s be honest, even that far back makes my life (as a woman, and as a gay person) hella difficult. But, consider this: it’s the ‘80s. Furthermore, consider this: a part-time job might have actually supported me and paid rent back then 😱 Holy fucking shit. Sign me up. I just wouldn’t want to go any further than than like 1980, because again: lesbian. Being a woman in the past = even harder than it is today, being gay in the past = even harder than it is today, being a gay woman in the past = oh no.

44. What is your most used emoji?

In order of descending frequency:

😂🙄😊😁🤦🏼‍♀️👀😬🌈🤷🏼‍♀️😙

45. Describe yourself using one word.

Creative

46. What do you regret the most?

Wasting my entire teenage experience. (See #38.) I did quite literally nothing with my life except homework for like 18 years. If I had taken even a tenth as much time for myself as I did for school, I would be so much farther along as a person today.

47. Last movie you saw?

In the theaters? ........ uh. Shit, I don’t actually remember. It’s been like 5 months. (As it has for everyone.) But the last movie I watched was Lights Out, because I’ve been watching the director’s youtube channel. You could tell it was low-budget and that the director was still kind of finding his stride, but it had a lot of heart behind it and the creators clearly gave a fuck, which made it enjoyable. I am firmly in the camp of “not everything has to be a Magnum Opus or have a multi-billion dollar budget to be a good movie.” If I engaged with it and got some sort of emotional experience out of it, and if it had a good message, I consider it a good movie.

48. Last tv show you watched?

I don’t usually watch a whole lot of TV shows (who has the time?) but I think the last thing I watched was either The Witcher or that new Unsolved Mysteries miniseries on Netflix. Oh and I was watching Dead to Me because I just love Linda Cardellini’s face and I want to wrap Judy up in a blanket and cuddle the shit out of her and protect her from all things 🥺 My precious beautiful unstable sweet murder baby.

49. Invent a word and it’s meaning.

Apapanic. It’s where you’re so stressed about things that half of your brain is panicking but the other half is so overwhelmed that it circled all the way back around to being calm to the point of apathy, so you just kind of sit there like

#about me #tag game #except as usual i'm not gonna tag people because I don't have to social energy to ask people to do things #sorry i know that's kind of cheating #if you wanna overshare just say I tagged you lol #personal #tmi

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chocoluckchipz · 5 years ago

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Dance with Me, Chaton - 13

Read it on A03, WattPad, FF.net

Written for @ladynoirjuly2019

< Previous

13. Hairstyles.

“I can’t take it anymore!” Plagg threw his hands upwards. “Stop annoying me, kid, or you’re out!”

“What did I do this time?” Adrien groaned. “I showed up at sunrise, brought you your Camembert, and do everything you’re telling me to do. What else do you want from me?”

“Stop looking like some son of some high-butt CEO.”

“I’m wearing sweatpants and a loose sleeveless top. Just as you asked me. How is that reminding you of any kind of CEO?”

“Your hair!”

“What about it?”

“You styled it!”

“So, what? I always do.”

“It’s irritating me!” Plagg ran his hands over his face. “It’s too ‘proper’, too ‘in place’.”

Adrien pulled back. “It’s the way I’ve always done it. How is that irritating you now but haven’t before?”

“It’s always irritated me,” Plagg puffed. “I was just too nice to say anything.”

Adrien quirked a skeptical eyebrow.

Plagg rolled his eyes. “Listen, kid. You want freedom, right?”

Adrien nodded. “What does it have to do with my hair?”

“Everything! Why the heck do you put your own hair in the jail of hair products if you want to be free?” Plagg scowled. “Hypocrisy at its best. I can’t take it anymore!”

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Adrien grumbled.

“You either free the hair or you’re out.”

Adrien pressed his lips together, his breathing heavy. “Why do you keep threatening to kick me out if I don’t comply with all your crazy whims? You’ve already ruined my sleep schedule, forced me to ditch work for a few hours twice in one week, changed my wardrobe, and now you don’t like the way I style my hair? Seriously, you are the one putting me in jail of your desires.”

“So, you want out?” Plagg smirked. “Cause I’ll be more than happy to drop such a capricious client like you.”

Adrien glared at Plagg. He hated him at times. He almost snapped I quit more times than he could count. Yet, something kept him going. Something he couldn’t explain. Something that wasn’t just the prospect of getting into Kwami Kave and being with Ladybug. Something else. Something he could neither understand nor refuse because that something had just won over his emotions again.

With an exasperated groan, Adrien bent over, dropped his head down, and fluffed his hair as much as he could.

“Are you happy now?”

Plagg’s grinned, walking towards Adrien. He stopped behind him and whispered into his ear. “Now, tell me, Adrien. How much freer will you work if you don’t have to worry about ruining your hairstyle?”

Something clicked in Adrien’s head. Oh!

Plagg smirked. “Your progress halted. You know all the basic moves, but you can’t move forward. You’re too reserved. You worry too much about how you look, or what others will think of you and all that other bullshit. You’ll never reach Ladybug’s level if you continue like this, neither can I teach you anything more advanced. Let it go, Adrien. Destroy that reservation, those chains you’ve adopted. Tune everyone and everything out. Don’t worry about your image. Got it?”

Adrien nodded.

“Good. Now, give me seventy more burpees, and I want you giving it all till the end. Impress me, kid.”

***

“You overslept?” Kagami side glanced at him as the elevator door closed.

“Quite the opposite,” Adrien sighed. “I’ve barely had any sleep. Why?”

“You don’t look so well,” she replied. “You seem tired—”

That’s because Plagg worked him like a racehorse all morning!

“—and as if you’ve dressed in a car—”

Bingo! That’s exactly what he did because the bastard left him no time to go home and change!

“—Your hair is especially in a rough condition—”

Please, don’t remind him. That’s a separate story.

“—Maybe you should take a day off and rest?” She touched his shoulder gently. “No one will benefit from you falling ill.”

Adrien dead stared at the door. “Maybe you’re right. I’ll just do what is necessary and will make it an early night.”

If his dance instructor from hell wouldn’t decide to torture him some more. He seemed to be really enjoying himself doing that.

The door opened, and the duo exited the elevator.

“We part here,” Kagami said. “Though, I wanted to ask you if you are planning to attend next week’s party?”

His heart pounded in his heart. Yes, he was going to attend because somewhere there his Lady would be waiting for him.

“Yeah,” he said. “I wanted to attend. What about you?”

“I have better things to do than to get drunk and watch others make out at the bar. Please, reconsider. I heard some disturbing things happened last year.”

Adrien frowned. “Such as?”

“Let’s see,” Kagami thought. “Drunk dancing on the tables, striptease, gambling. The list goes on and on. That’s not the place for reputable people like us, so, please, don’t go.”

“Thanks for the warning, Kagami.” Adrien smiled. “I’ll keep that in mind and be careful, but I kind of already promised a friend I’ll attend.”

She quirked an eyebrow. “Well, as long as you are aware of the situation. Are we still on for lunch tomorrow?”

Adrien nodded. “Unless some disaster happens, yes, absolutely.”

“All right. I hope you feel better by then. Have a good day, Adrien. Stop by when you’re free.”

“Will do.” Adrien bit his farewell and walked the opposite direction.

Strolling down the hallway, Adrien yawned. He ran his fingers through his hair, trying to put it in place as much as possible. Perhaps, he should make it a short day. He was exhausted, and there was always a threat of Plagg texting him any minute. That glutton! Thanks to him, Adrien's life was chaos. Camembert-stinking wreckage of the perfect scheduling he grew up on. It was good that the only thing he’d have to focus on for the next two weeks was pretending to search for Ladybug to divert his father’s attention. Then, he’d admit his failure, would accept his defeat, and everything would go the way it always was. For now, though, designer department it was. Adrien smiled, grasping the lucky charm in his pocket. He’d forgotten to give it to her yesterday. Today it was, then. He looked forward to that.

Marinette caught his attention as soon as Adrien stepped inside. Or rather her appearance. He had to do a double-take because usually impeccably put together Marinette was working on something at her table wearing a pair of red sneakers and a light jean overall shorts atop of pink t-shirt with her hair tied in pigtails. She silently sang to herself, listening to something thought her wireless earbuds, her body subtilty moving to the beat Adrien couldn't hear. It was… adorable, but nothing like he’d expected to see at Gabriel. Or was allowed as far as he knew.

Adrien headed straight for her. “Morning, Mari.”

She stirred, looking at him a bit lost, then took the earbuds out of her ears and smiled. “Morning, Adrien.”

“I’ve got something for you.” He pulled his lucky charm out and offered it to Marinette. “I’ve noticed a lot of bad stuff has happened to you since you’ve given me your lucky charm, so I thought I’d make one for you. To get you back your luck.”

She stared at the string of beads in his hands, her cheeks endearingly pink. “You… you made it for me?”

“Spent the whole Saturday figuring out the mechanics, but yes, I did.” He grinned. “Do you like it?”

She hesitantly reached for it. “It’s gorgeous. Thank you, Adrien.”

“A gorgeous lucky charm for a gorgeous woman,” Adrien said without thinking.

Her cheeks flamed crimson. Cute. “Thank you,” she whispered.

“So,” Adrien plopped on the chair by her table. “Did Mme Bustier announce a ‘casual wear’ day, and I wasn’t informed? I’d rock my slacks and a t-shirt instead of dressing up.”

Marinette giggled. “You’d look glorious.”

He grinned. “I would.” He cocked his head to a side, “What’s up with your outfit? Not that I don’t approve because it looks adorable, and you totally rock it. I’m just curious, seeing as this is a workplace with a dress code.”

Marinette sighed. “Those of us who decided to stay are still pretty shaken after yesterday, so Mme Bustier is taking it easy on us until the show, meaning no dress code.”

Adrien raised an eyebrow.

“I know it’s silly,” Marinette smiled, “But she’s trying to make us as comfortable as possible to boost the morale and inspire us to create. It’s working; don’t laugh.”

Adrien suppressed a chuckle. “Didn’t even think of that. So, may I assume that rocking pigtails makes you comfortable?”

Her cheeks flushed red as she looked to the side. “I know they look stupid, but I don’t care.”

“No, Mari.” Adrien took her hand. “I didn’t think that. They do look cute. I was just surprised because you know… I’ve never seen anyone here with pigtails.”

Marinette snickered. “Childish and high fashion don’t mix, do they?”

“Well, most people don’t mix them which is a shame,” Adrien said. “They look charming on you.”

Marinette smiled. “They give me confidence.”

He frowned. “Confidence?”

Her gaze wistful, she explained. “I used to tie my hair in pigtails in school when life wasn't as stressful and complicated. So now, every time I wear something comfortable and rock pigtails, I feel like I’m back in my bedroom above the bakery, carefree, working on my projects. I feel confident and calm. That’s why.”

Adrien hummed and watched her silently for a few moments, then got his fingers into his hair and messed it up.

“There.” He grinned. “Now I’m a five-year-old running around with my mom at a random field trying to catch more butterflies than she does.”

Adrien ran his fingers through his hair one more time, fluffing it to the max. It felt nice. Liberating. Invigorating. Who knew that a hairstyle can make such a difference?

“You’re a dork,” Marinette giggled.

“Said the woman in shorts overalls and pigtails working at a high-end fashion house.”

Marinette laughed. “Touché, M Agreste.”

Adrien chuckled, feeling much more invigorated than before he'd walked in this room. Marinette was a delight, and being with her always lightened his mood. Maybe instead of a short day then, he could indulge in that warm feeling she was able to arouse in him?

He leaned back into the chair. “I might be stepping over the line but… do you mind if I stay with you for a while, and maybe listen to your music while you work?”

She took a better look at him. “Not feeling like working?”

“Not really. I’ve had little sleep and feeling exhausted. And I can’t exactly go home yet. So, I thought if I stay here and pretend to watch you work, I can pass it as learning more about the designer department, if my father asks.”

“M Agreste.” She chuckled. “Running away from your responsibilities? How immature of you.”

He pouted. “You’re a meanie.”

“Oh, but I’m a meanie with an iPod loaded with music, and I’m willing to share if you answer my question.”

Adrien grinned. “I’m all ears.”

She held up two sheets of paper with identical designs apart from a few minor details. “Which one?”

Adrien compared them for a few moments before pointing out the left one. “I’d kill to wear this one in black.”

She smirked. “Good choice M Agreste. Here.” She passed him one of her earbuds. “You’ve earned it.”

“Thanks,” he said, setting the device into his ear. The music filled his mind, and Adrien, putting his hands on a table, rested his head on them. He closed his eyes, letting images of his mother and him as a child running after butterflies in a random field somewhere in the country take over. A rare moment he somehow remembered from the happier times in his life. His lips tugged in a smile. He loved this memory…

“Adrien?”

He hummed.

“Adrien?” Someone shook him lightly. “Your phone keeps ringing. It might be important.”

Adrien popped one eye open and pulled his phone from his pocket.

“Oh, shit.” He straightened and answered. “I’m here.”

“The roof of my studio in an hour, kid. Don’t forget my Camembert.”

“Didn’t we already have a session today?”

“We did, but the weather is perfect. I couldn’t pass up on a chance.”

Adrien glanced out the window. “It’s raining,” he deadpanned. “How is it perfect?”

“You wanted to dance despite the rain, didn’t you? Don’t complain to me for going out of my way to fulfil one of your dreams. One hour, Camembert, the roof. Or quit. I don’t care either way.”

Plagg hung up. Adrien groaned and dropped his head on the desk.

“Bad news?” Marinette asked.

“Hellish.”

“What happened? If you don’t mind sharing, that is.”

“I signed up for a butt camp, and I hate it,” he moaned into his hands, his head still on a desk.

“A butt camp?” Marinette chuckled. “Don’t you mean a boot camp?”

“No,” Adrien scoffed. “That’s exactly what it is. A butt camp. I come there and the devil incarnate kicks my butt.”

Marinette laughed, stopping rapidly as Adrien glared at her. “I’m sorry. This isn’t funny,” she said, trying and failing to keep a smile off her face “But why don’t you quit then if it’s too much.”

Adrien fell quiet for a moment. “I can’t quit.”

“You signed a contract?”

“No, I didn’t.” Adrien stood up. “But if I quit, I might lose much more than I gain if I do.”

Marinette smiled understandingly. “Then I wish you the best of luck.”

“Thanks, Mari.” He pulled her lucky charm from his pocket. “I have this. What can go wrong with my Marinette Lucky Charm?”

She blushed, her eyes wide.

Adrien chuckled. “See you tomorrow.”

Marinette mumbled something he remotely thought was see you tomorrow. So, Adrien smiled, nodded, and left. Pushing his phone into his pocket, he headed for the nearest grocery store. The devil needed his dose of Camembert. Adrien wished only for one thing: to crawl into his soft and fluffy bed and forget everything.

***

Chat Noir: Evening, my Lady. The new chat room looks amazing.

Ladybug: Thank you. I spent the whole ten minutes setting it up. :handsome:

Chat Noir: :finger guns:

Chat Noir: How was your day?

Ladybug: Relaxing. Got lots of work done, so I’m happy. Yours?

Chat Noir: Apart from one pain in the ass it went fantastic. Though I got wet in the rain, and the cold wind didn’t help, so I’ll take a hot bath and call it a night.

Ladybug: You’d better. We wouldn’t want you to catch a cold.

Chat Noir: Share some luck with me?

Ladybug: *sends over all her luck*

Chat Noir: LOL Just a little would be enough. Leave some for yourself.

Ladybug: You never know. If you’ll have extra use it for something else. And, I got a boost in that department today so I won’t be lacking.

Chat Noir: You’re very generous my Lady. Thank you.

Ladybug: No need. Take care of yourself, Chaton.

Chat Noir: Will do.

_______________________________________________________________________

Next >

#ladynoirjuly2019 #adrienette #ladynoir #miraculous #human plagg #Adrien is starting to have enough of him

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amnachil · 5 years ago

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To the perfection Chapter 2 Part 2

Enjoy :)

Cody Monday March 11

He gulped, absolutely not ready for it. Monday morning were usually rough. But this one was special in every way. Not only they were forced to attend school this week because they had hours to catch up in order to make a trip later this year, but he was going to see Thomas. I don't know what got into me. I don't know why I went up against him during the game. Cody wasn't ready to face Thomas, but he had to. Next to him, Joël finished a video about cats and laughed loudly.

"I can't help but watch it again and again." he said. "This kitty is so cute !"

Thankfully, he was stupid enough to not notice Cody wasn't listening. Because their friend was coming closer. Oh man. Thomas was smiling. His usual bright smile, which could enlighten your whole day. The smile Cody fell for.

"Hi Joël." he said. "Let's go inside, it's freezing."

Wait. "Hi Joël" ? Seriously ? So that was his punishment. Of course, the ginger couldn't ignore him more than he already did.

"I saw the video you sent yesterday." continued Thomas. "The cat is incredibly cute !"

"Ah ! I know right ?!" exclaimed their friend.

It was childish. Stupid. He's just pretending to care to hurt me. I know that. So why was it so painful ? He looked at his buddies while they entered in the highschool. They looked exactly like in these memories. Back when Thomas was talking openly with them. Back when he was the sun in Cody's life. And piece by piece, I can literally feel my heart crumbles. Because he knew those times wouldn't come back ever again.

The day went awfully slowly. Thomas was purposely more talktative with everyone. He laughed to every single joke Joël did. He talked politely to the teachers. He even held the door for the girls in each class. Well, he was literally shining. And everyone wanted to be part of it. Their classmates and their professors all fell for it. Someone said the ginger was back to his old self. Cody resisted to his urge to punch the poor soul. Everything is an act. He just wants to make me suffer, right ? How come Joël wasn't suspecting anything ? This dude had zero braincell or what ? Finally, for their last hour, their science teacher made a comment.

"You're extremely nice today." he pointed out. "Are you hiding something ?"

"Does a man need a reason to be nice ?" smiled Thomas. "Besides, I'm always nice."

"Well, let's say you're extra shiny today." confessed Darren. "Are you in love or something ?"

Cody froze for a second. Nah, that's not possible. The class laughed. Yeah, their professor only made a little joke. But the dark-haired lad noticed his friend's twitch. No way. Is it even possible ? It was highly unlikely. But what if ? The idea was already settling in Cody's mind.

"Dude, I understand shit and you're not helping if you are stargazing."

The teennager turned towards Ilhan. Right, they were working here.

"Sorry." he mumbled. "I got distracted. Anyway, where were we ?"

"I don't know anymore. I'm just lost."

Cody frowned. He looked closely at his friend. He looked so tired, so depressed. Whatever was going on, it wasn't good. He completely let himself go... Ilhan was definitely tubby now. His too-tight vest wasn't fit to hide such a paunch. And several times, Cody had spotted the man in a bloated state. Is it what they call stress-eating ? The nurse would turn completely crazy during the next check-up. I should help him. It would be nice to feel useful to someone. And maybe that way, I can't forget Thomas for a bit. Well, it was just a lie. And to say tomorow is my birthday...

Dan Wednesday March 13 – Thursday March 14

The day hadn't been good. His college's professor had told him his grades were too low. I won't graduate like this. I need to improve my grades. So Dan was studying more despite the fact it was his only week of holidays. When he arrived at the gym this evening, he wasn't in the mood. Sandra offered to do only light exercises, and she let him in peace. He managed to do some stuff, but his mind was elsewhere. Well, until he noticed Thomas's friend coming his way. What is his name again ? I think it's Joël.

"Hey dude." greeted the teenager. "How've you been ?"

"Uh, fine. I'm struggling a bit with those weights."

"You're doing great man."

Seing Joël's biceps, this one could lift them up easily and he was just trying to make Dan feel better. Well, thank for the thought.

"Sooo you live with Thomy right ?" asked the lad.

Dan decided to stop his stupid training because he probably looked ridiculous. He stood up and glanced at his interlocutor. He was slightly taller and broad-shouldered. His hair were dark with blond strand, his eyes brown.

"Yeah." finally answered the college student.

"Okay so here's the deal." smiled Joël. "There are rumors saying our Thomy got a girlfriend but of course, he won't tell me. I'm just dying to know ! Damn, I can't be in the dark so please please please tell me ?"

He made puppy eyes which made Dan smile. This guy is cool.

"Sorry but I havn't heard anything on the subject." he assured. "And I doubt Thomas is seeing anyone right now. He's very busy between working out, helping Ilhan every night and stuff."

Joël made a face.

"Helping Ilhan every night ?" he repeated. "Cody said they stopped a moment ago since they're not really talking at school anymore."

"What ?"

Now Dan was lost too. I'm pretty sure he didn't lie when he told me he was going to Ilhan's place. So he lied to his friend ?

"Ah, that's cool." laughed Joël. "If Thomas is still helping him, I'm sure Ilhan will be rocking again soon !"

The college student nodded. I should just trust Thomy. I'm sure there is a good explanation behind this.

The next day, Dan exhausted himself with studying. This evening, he was so tired he decided to indulge more than usual. He ate his content pretty fast and then more. Thomas wasn't home yet, so he finished all the leftover. And then ordered two oversized pizzas. It wasn't very rational nor healthy, but he needed something to relax. He went though the first one lazily. The added weight forced him to lay down on the couch. The bloat was feeling nice. When he finished, he belched, kinda satisfied. Then he decided to try his luck with the second pizza. It was harder but still, he continued. His belly bulged and he needed to took off his pull over to let it expand. He felt his stomach took the free room. Honestly, Dan didn't know exactly how he managed to finish, but he did. Damn. He burped loudly. He tried to move, but that was painful. He had a tummy ache for sure. It was worth it anyway. He was trying to appease his angry belly when Thomas arrived.

"Oh. Looks like you already ate." he said.

Dan nodded, groggy. His friend sat next to him.

"Are you in pain ?"

"Yeah... Ate too much, too fast."

A soft hand entered in touch with his skin. Made a circle. Oooh. Good. Very good. He let out a moan against his will.

"I... I'll make you feel better." whispered Thomas, short-winded. "Just... Let me do it."

His friend rubbed his belly slowly, calmly. At first, it was timid but it became firmer. It feels so nice. Dan closed his eyes. Now he could digest peacefully. Slowly, he fell asleep.

Thomas Sunday March 17

Gregory wolfed down a burger like if it was nothing. His big mouth was very useful for this kind of thing. As for her, Shirley lowered her head, uneasy. The ginger bite his lips. Why on earth I agreed to come ? Dan arrived with his own order and sat next to him. Oh yeah, I recall now. Because he had done something terribly stupid four days ago. I rubbed his belly. I mean, I rubbed DAN's belly when he was conscious. It had been the happiest moment of his life. And the worst too. Because his crush had moaned Raphaël's name during his sleep. Of course, he was his boyfriend. It's pretty normal he thought about him. It had destroyed Thomas's heart. But it had also gave him hope. Because it means I can rub his belly again. I mean, I can rub DAN's belly again. All he had to do was pretend to be his brother.

"I can't do it." Shirley complained. "I'm not ready yet."

"Sis' you are more than ready." contradicted Dan. "You found a flat to rent, you've a job as a cashier and you're pulling yourself together very well."

"Agreed." added Gregory between two mouthful. "You're more than ready to talk to Sam."

Honestly, Thomas didn't care at all about Shirley, her ex and whatever. But since it was important to Dan, it mattered to him aswell.

"You're great." he assured with his brightest smile. "Go ahead and make peace."

She nodded, reassured by their cheerings. She stood up and went for Sam. The ginger felt Dan's shoulder press against his. It was just a friendly touch, but he got flustered anyway.

"I hope she'll be okay." he mumbled.

"Don't worry man, she's on the right way." Thomas stated. "And Gregory is here to watch her... I guess, because it seems like he can't get his eyes away from his burger."

The joke made them laugh. And the teenager felt genuinely happy.

Fast enough, the craving for more haunted him again. To press shoulders wasn't enough to satisfy his teenager's needs. He called Joël.

"Hi man. Sorry but I can't make it to the gym today."

"Whaaat ? But Cody and I are already there !" groused the other. "Man, not fair !"

Well, if this asshole is here, there is another reason why I can't come. Both his friends were Raphaël's pawns but at least Joël was too silly to be a bother. The leech on the other hand... I just hate him so much right now. He dared stand up against me.

"There's somewhere else I need to be." he said.

"Mmhm alrighty.... Wait Cody asks if you're going to Ilhan's place again ?"

For god's sake. He can't leave me alone, can he ? And how the hell did he know about this ?

"He's not my mom." Thomas replied. "I'm hanging up."

No sooner said than done. He didn't want Cody to stick his nose into his business. Anyway, Thomas went straight to Ilhan's home. He knocked at the door, and his friend's mother opened. She led him upstair, saying how much she was glad he was here. According to her, her son was going through a bad phase, and his help was more than welcome. She hoped he would help him get back in shape. Sure thing. Count on me. He barely waited for her to leave. And then, he jumped on Ilhan's bed, next to his friend. This one had already indulged in the pastries Thomas had sent earlier with a note. He was seemingly overstuffed.

"I did burp... what you asked." he muttered.

"Nice. Now I'll fuck you."

"Wait... Thomas. I just need to know, why are we doing this ? What are we even doing ?"

The ginger sighed, annoyed. Ilhan had so many questions, so many doubts ! They were just having fun !

"I don't understand why you're still so worried about everything." he said with a threatening tone. "Just let me fuck you and we're good, okay ?"

"O... Okay."

To be continued

Not much to say. Our feedees are doing their job. Dan rather willingly while Ilhan is well... not so sure about this.

And Thomas... Thomas doesn’t change. He’s not very nice to the people who annoys him. And that’s a lot of people.

#to the perfection #TP #Cody #Dan #Thomas #stuffing #weight gain #Dan stuffs his face again #Cody is in troubles #with Thomas the star of highschool #Joel doesn't understand a thing right ?#Chapter 2 #Part 2

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your-modern-shakespeare · 6 years ago

Text

A Little Too Real: Epilogue

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 4.5, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 7.5, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 10.5, Part 11, Part 11.5, Part 12, Part 13, Part 14

Summary: RealityTV!AU- You are a wardrobe supervisor for a popular TV network. The show is planning a reality TV show like the bachelor and Bucky is the newest contestant. But as the competition starts he realizes that he doesn’t like any of the girls…on the show anyway.

Pairing : Bucky x Reader

Word Count: 16,355

A/N: Well...THIS IS IT! This has been such an emotional rollercoaster not only for these characters but for me too. This story is about three years of my life and I’ve been putting off ending it because it’s been a really hard week, but it’s time to share a happy ending for these characters. I want to thank everyone who has read and loved this story and supported me along the way. I couldn’t have done this without you so Thank you! But without further ado, I love you guys and Enjoy! (P.S. A completed masterlist will soon be posted with links to every chapter and some fun info about the series.

Warnings: fluff, FLUFF, some sexy times and mentions of, maybe like a little angst but not really?, drinking, talk of drinking and being drunk, fluff?, I think that’s it, fluff

ONE YEAR LATER

Y/N’S POV

I tried my hardest to sleep on the flight and yet my nerves and the time difference didn’t make it easy.

This being my first full week off in over six months, you could definitely say that I was looking forward to it. Not to mention, I hadn’t seen Bucky in about 2 months...in person that is. This tour had been hard on me, harder than the last one. But I guess it was different when you knew you had someone at home waiting for you.

But things were good with me and him. The distance definitely put a strain on our relationship, but we knew that coming from spending every second together to hardly seeing each other was going to be hard. This realization hit pretty early on.

After the crew watch, Bucky and I had about two weeks together before I had to leave again. But like I had told him before, I had Monday off, so he took me to the hospital to FINALLY get my cast off and then to our redo first date...it was perfect and then we went on the date...I’m kidding of course. The date was everything I could have ever expected and more, he really pulled out all the stops. Not to mention he was there the next morning when I opened my eyes, which was the only thing I had been nervous about.

He was also there for the opening night of the show, that next Tuesday, which he absolutely loved. We got to walk the “red carpet” beforehand, he got to watch the show, and then we got to go to the after party together. But the best part of the night was that we got to tell everyone that we were together, that we were a couple and that we loved each other.

Yet, the real world came knocking the following Monday morning, and we couldn’t keep pushing off our inevitable flights. I was headed to Boston first and he was going back to LA.

So over the next couple of months we Skyped at least once a week, talked almost every night, and texted probably way too much. But we had decided early on that even if it was just a fast call, that it was important to hear each other’s voices, that even if the text was good morning or goodnight, at least it was an easy way to feel connected to each other. The Skype date, though, was the most important out of all, this was not rescheduled or missed and was usually on Mondays because I was always and he had gotten them off too, so that there was no way we missed our date. It was nice that way.

There was one Monday where Tony called him in to work, but the whole time he worked we were on our date. It was pretty fun that way because we liked to mess with Tony and make him feel bad that he had messed up our Skype date. But I had to admit it was nice to see Tony and I actually got to see a little bit of what Bucky was working on with this latest update of the arm.

A lot of times we ended up talking about things that I didn’t understand but the way he spoke about his work just made me smile, because I could see how happy it made him. And ever since Tony had hired him on full time, now that he was done with the show, he seemed to be a lot happier. It really gave him the time to start exploring updates for the arm and he even began reaching out to other people about different limbs. Which I knew he had been excited about because he had been pushing to do projects like this even before we started dating.

But this also meant that he spent a lot of time traveling like me. Where I was going to a new city every week or two, he spent a lot of time going back and forth between New York and LA, so did Tony. Fortunately this made me feel less guilty about having a place in New York when I wasn’t living there. I let friends stay there when they were in town or on vacation and whenever Bucky and Tony were there they were more than happy for an apartment over a hotel room.

And then my first break came and God if I wasn’t excited for it. Bucky was in LA at the time so I stayed at his apartment and we had a million wedding type activities to do with Peggy and Steve, seeing as this was the first time that I had been able to get more than one day off. Peggy, Steve, Wanda (who got engaged to Vision on their one year anniversary), Vision, Bucky and I had all had multiple Skype calls to discuss wedding details, before the break, but once my one week hit there seemed to be an explosion of wedding stuff to do.

We had another engagement party, just a small event for the close friends that Peggy’s parents hadn’t thought to invite and other family members, like Bucky’s mom, who hadn’t been able to make the first party. We had a bridal shower where Steve and Peggy got a butt load of new stuff, mostly things for the kitchen and money from her family in the UK. We went to three different bridal salons both for Peggy’s dress and for the bridesmaid dresses. Then the following day I went to Steve’s morning suit fitting as well as Bucky and Michael’s, no matter how awkward that was, don’t even get me started. And even on top of all the wedding things, I still had a couple of days to spend completely alone with Bucky.

Then it was back on the road for me.

But it wasn’t nearly as bad this time around. Bucky and I had gotten used to our routine so that wasn’t hard to pick up again and being in Austin my first week back after the break, at the venue where this all started, felt almost like home in a sense. I got to talk to the people who I worked with before, I got to talk to some of my old theatre teachers, and I got to have a stress free week. It was just so nice to not have to worry about dressers that I didn’t know, in a theatre I had never been in, and a city that I knew nothing about. It was a great first week back because of it. It was the other five-ish months that were difficult.

I grew to miss Bucky a little more everyday. We still had our calls and texts but it was harder after having spent a whole week seeing him, to suddenly see him so little. Not to mention, on top of working seven to nine shows a week, it depended on the city, I was helping Peggy plan her wedding. That meant that I was usually on a Skype call with Peggy, her mom, the wedding planner, and Wanda, picking out flowers, invitations, cake design, caterers, a band/or DJ, and pretty much everything else that was aesthetics and essential for a wedding. Of course, we also talked about the guest list, which was very long, when to put in fittings for the dresses, per my expertise, who to book for hair and makeup, which airline to use for flights, and anything else that I probably would have never thought of. It was all a little overwhelming.

So as the next couple of months passed this became the new routine. Talking to Bucky, talking to Peggy and her wedding planning committee, and then working a lot of shows, while I bounced around from city to city. You could say that as the less and less sleep I got the more I started to regret taking this job.

Don’t get me wrong, I loved this show. I loved the people I worked with and the musical itself was something that I surprisingly never got tired of...but like I said, it was hard to be away from the people I loved.

So when I hit my next week long break it was off to the UK for me. Two months since seeing Bucky, six months since seeing Peggy, Steve, Wanda and Vision (who so easily joined our friend group and became just as essential), and my first time ever being in the UK, it was a little crazy. And I was exhausted.

I wanted to try and sleep a little more than I did on the flight but, I don’t know, being in the air made it hard. I was also overthinking EVERYTHING.

Where would I have to go to get my luggage, would I take a taxi to Peggy’s parent’s home or would I just go straight to the venue, would she be there to pick me up or would someone else be there, and when would I see Bucky?

So with all of that to think of, sleep didn’t come so easy.

But when I heard that we were starting our descent into Heathrow, I perked up a bit. I was beyond excited to get off this plane and I knew that at the very least I wasn’t but an hour from seeing Bucky again.

So we landed and everyone on the plane grabbed their things. I had one small carry on which had my bridesmaid dress in it, I did the alterations myself seeing as it was too difficult to get a fitting in while I was stopped in one of the cities, and an outfit or two, just in case my luggage was lost. That was another thing I thought about too.

But for now I focused on getting off the plane and into the airport.

I waited in line to get off and made my way inside the airport and through the gate. Already I could feel a little bit of the stress that I had been thinking about on the flight. But like I did with every other airport I had been to, I followed the signs to baggage claim and I waited for my other bag to come out. As I stood there and watched all the other passengers get their bag I started to feel a little worried that mine wasn’t going to come out. But before I had the chance to investigate further, I felt a tap on my shoulder.

I turned around and as soon as my eyes registered what they were seeing, I felt two very different things. One was relief because out of my peripheral vision I could see my luggage, and the second was complete excitement because standing before me was Bucky.

I dropped my bag, immediately jumped into his arms, and kissed him senseless. I didn’t care about the people around us or the fact that Steve and Peggy both were standing behind us, I just focused everything on Bucky and the fact that I hadn’t seen him in what felt like forever, hadn’t actually felt him in just as long. When he pulled away, I just wrapped him in my arms, not quite ready to let go of him.

“I missed you so much.” I whispered in his ear.

“I missed you too.” He said back to me, not letting me go, but setting me back on the ground.

“I love you.”

“I love you.” I kissed him one more time before actually letting him go. I picked up my bag from the floor and handed it to Bucky before going over to Steve and Peggy, giving them hugs too.

“Our hello wasn’t nearly as good as Bucky’s.” Peggy said to me sarcastically mid hug.

“I guess I should have said hello to you first then?” I asked, moving to Steve for a hug.

“Nah, I guess boyfriends can be greeted first.” I laughed at the two of them and then we headed out of the airport.

In the car, Steve and Peggy were in front and Bucky and I were in back, and as much as I wanted to talk to Bucky and catch up with him, it was hard to when I was so curious about the city and all of the things to see. Luckily he caught on and started to give me fun facts about the city and all of the things that he recognized from when he lived here.

And then about an hour later we pulled into a driveway which led to a beautiful, very old and traditional home. Out front stood Peggy’s parents along with one other person who I hadn’t met. Being the gentleman that he was, Bucky opened my door for me and assisted me out of the car before grabbing my luggage. As he did that, I went over and greeted Peggy’s parents and they introduced me to Mrs. Langdon, the housekeeper. And by housekeeper I mean the head honcho of the place, at least on the female side, and by that I mean they had a full staff for this house, which astounded me. Honestly when I thought the Carters had money, I didn’t think it would be so much that they were practically Downton Abbey, but they pretty much were.

Anyway, Mrs. Langdon gave me a tour of the “estate” as she called it and eventually brought me to my shared room with Bucky, where he was already waiting for me.

I spent a little time getting settled in, unpacked some of my stuff, took my bridesmaid dress out of my bag, and sooner than expected I had passed out next to Bucky on the bed. We may have done something else before passing out but no one else needed to know about that.

But back to the wedding...Over the next couple of days we did a lot of different things. We had hair and makeup appointments with our team so that we could finalize our wedding looks; the boys went and got proper haircuts. Steve and Peggy finalized the head count which pretty much finished everything with the caterers and vendors. We finished making the playlists for the DJ and we went over the music for the band one more time. I went ahead and steamed or pressed everyone’s dresses, suits, trousers, and shirts, at the least I knew that Peggy’s dress would need the time to completely dry, so it was good I did it ahead of time. And then we got to the last two days before the “big day.”

So, with the aroma of a hangover lingering in the thoughts of my future, I woke up to the day of Peggy’s bachelorette party. We had decided to give us a day between the bachelorette party and the wedding because I knew that Peggy would want to go kind of crazy and we didn’t really want to feel un-functionally terrible the day of her wedding. So with that in mind, Wanda and I had to do a lot of research on amazing places to go and things to do...in a country that we had never been to before. Easy, right?

But anyway, we decided to start the day off slow and gradually build up to the crazy-drunk night that Peggy had imagined her bachelorette party being. So we let her sleep in a bit, went out for Brunch at her favorite cafe, got mani/pedis, and then went shopping for a look to go out on the town in.

We were searching through the racks of a dress store in the city and Peggy peeked through the dresses to where I was looking on the other side of her rack.

“So when are you and Bucky getting hitched?”

“Haven’t I answered this question enough for you?” I responded, pulling a dress out and laying it over my arm.

“I’m going to keep asking until it happens. You know that right?” Wanda just laughed at us.

“And I will always give you the same answer. When he asks you’ll probably be amongst the first to know. Not that it’ll happen anytime soon but…”

“What makes you think it won’t? You two have been together longer than Wanda and Vision have and they’re already engaged.”

“First, that’s not true. We were friends when those two started dating. And second—”

“Friends.” They both said and put in air quotes. I ignored it.

“Second...I’m still on tour for another six months. It would be impractical to try and plan a wedding in the middle of tour madness. We hardly get to see each other as it is, but could you imagine me showing up to bridal shower or an engagement party after not having seen him in months.”

“Are you trying to say that your reunion would be too inappropriate? Just get a room beforehand and it’ll be fine.” Wanda finally chimed in.

“I’ll even fix you hair for you before the party.” Peggy said.

“You guys are so embarrassing. I’m just saying that I’m not sure it’s going to happen anytime soon. I would be excited if it did happen, we talk about getting married and we try and make plans, but it just isn’t in the immediate future. Right now I have the tour and he has his newest project with Tony, not to mention the actual reason we are here in a dress store right now. We should be really focused on your wedding.”

“I’m just talking shop. I’m pretty sure that’s what we’re supposed to do at these bachelorette parties.”

“You may have a small point, but let’s talk about wedding things. What about you Wanda, what’s happening with your planning?”

Directing the attention away from me was exactly what we needed to get this dress shopping back on track. The wedding planning sped things up believe it or not, not only did the three of us find a look for tonight, Wanda a beautiful red velvet dress, Peggy a gorgeous white jumpsuit , and for me a stunning pants/tank combo, but now Peggy wanted to stop by a bridal salon and have Wanda try on some wedding dresses. I mean, when would she ever have another chance to try on gowns that hadn’t been made in America?

So, of course, we had to Skype with her twin brother, Pietro, he was technically the only family she had left and he had practically threatened us about getting to help pick out the dress. She ended up falling in love with one but decided that she would have to come back later to figure out the logistics of ordering it and getting it back to LA. And as any best friend would, I offered to do the alterations as soon as the tour was over, to help offset the costs, which she was relieved to hear.

After we were done at the bridal salon, we quickly stepped in to a shoe store, Peggy telling us that we obviously needed new shoes to go with our new dresses; it was crazy how much I had bought for this wedding, it was a never ending shopping spree. We had even purchased a bride-to-be sash for Peggy to wear out, which she absolutely loved. But anyway, with shoes and dresses in hand, we went back to the hotel room we got for the night and started to get ready for the crazy part of the night. And with hair done up, makeup sponged on, dresses in place, and shoes strapped up we made our way to dinner.

Peggy chose this nice restaurant that apparently Steve had actually shown her while he was living in London and helping take care of Bucky after his accident. And knowing how well Steve treats Peggy, the place definitely lived up to his standards. Everything was delicious and even though the place was nicer than most restaurants it was actually really nice to experience a piece of their relationship that was so simple and down to earth. But with dinner soon done and plenty left to do tonight, we left the restaurant.

The funniest thing about Peggy’s idea for a bachelorette party, was definitely the research materials she used to give us ideas. Mostly from movies, her ideal party was definitely out of line for the Peggy we had come to know and love. Of course, Wanda and I had to veto a lot because we had concluded pretty early on that some of things listed were things that the three of us would never be comfortable with; for instance, like going to a strip club. But one that we stuck with, because at the very least it was the most harmless out of the ideas, was going out to a nightclub. We weren’t entirely sure if she would like this place, but we had a back up if she didn’t.

Peggy, much like Steve and Bucky, was an old soul. And despite the pop/modern music they played at the parties they hosted, it wasn’t ever too loud that you couldn’t hear what the other people were saying. Which was exactly the case when we stepped foot into this club.

There was a DJ at the front of the room playing some song that we had never heard of and the dance floor was packed with people jumping around, poorly dancing and even some obscene couples. But ignoring that, Peggy pulled us over to the bar and ordered each of us a drink to kick off the idealized night.

We sat at the bar for maybe a few minutes before a group of guys, seeing Peggy’s sash, dragged us over to their table. They were all very nice to us, they asked us about our boyfriends and we asked about theirs, which struck up some great conversations. We even, bravely, got up and danced for a bit and the guys bought us drinks...way too many drinks. After awhile I cut myself off because I was already feeling pretty out of it and it wasn’t even eleven. That and I was also getting sleepy and alcohol would only make that worse. So when we were done dancing and back at our table I hung out with Peggy and Wanda and the guys, but I think they were catching on to just how tired I was starting to become.

Peggy came and plopped down next to me, very ungracefully climbing over anyone who was in her way, Wanda following very stably.

“You’re not having fun.” She slurred.

“What? Of course I am!”

“You’ve been staring at the wall for like five minutes.” Wanda said.

“It’s not because I’m not having fun.”

“What else could it be?” Peggy got closer to me.

“Well...the time difference has really messed with me and I get sleepy when I’m tipsy, you can ask Bucky. And for some reason I really want some tacos. Do they serve tacos here? Like good street tacos, not like Jack-in-the-box tacos, but like good authentic street tacos?”

“I’m not sure if they serve those here.” Wanda decided, not really seeing any food around here.

“But you’re lucky I picked some up along the way.” I heard from behind me and turned to see Bucky standing there with a bag of food in hand. “You’re also lucky that I know you so well.” He handed me the bag of food and I pulled him down closer to me so I could kiss him.

“What are you doing here?” He walked around and sat down beside me, both Wanda and Peggy going to talk to Vision and Steve.

“Peggy is...very drunk and she’s been texting Steve all night, he was worried about her.”

“Well it’s sweet of you guys to come and hang out with us, didn’t mean to spoil your night.”

“Seeing our girls could never spoil the night, not that I’m saying we weren’t having fun. We had the whole day away from each other, so why not spend the night together?”

“I like that.”

So for the next couple of hours we danced and we talked with the guys who were all very jealous of just how stunning our boyfriends were. Bucky and I didn’t do any more drinking and as the night went on I got out of my little funk and had a great night.

Peggy and Steve, though, were the first to bow out. She was definitely drunk and Steve was ready to take her back to the hotel. But as soon as the bride and groom were gone it was a gradual departure for the rest of our group. Vision, Wanda, Bucky and I all went back to the hotel but had to get separate rooms since we had only gotten one for the night; a King size bed would have fit three girls, not six people. We didn’t really get into our room until three in the morning but after that I’m pretty sure it was the fastest I had ever fallen asleep.

The following morning...I wasn’t nearly as bad as I thought I was going to be. But Bucky and I had had a plan to keep the both of us from getting too sick. The trick: vodka and you know what’s interesting about vodka...it’s clear...like water. And with Peggy so out of it, she never caught on to the fact that Bucky and I weren’t wasted.

I just didn’t want any of this weekend to be tainted by being sick, or blacking out, or even a hangover. And honestly I kind of figured that Peggy would feel the same but then again the pressure she was under from her family and the wedding planner alone and add on top of it all living at home during all of this, would probably make me drink that much too… if I had any of that I mean.

But anyway, because the only thing we had to do today was greet the guests who were staying at the castle and have dinner with Peggy’s family, Bucky and I got to spend the day together; apparently they don’t do rehearsals for weddings in the UK or like a big family rehearsal dinner. It was really important to me to have a day like this because I needed to spend as much time with him as I could before I had to go back on the road.

So we started the morning off with Breakfast and then Bucky showed me around London like a proper tourist. We saw everything that anyone would see if they took a week long vacation in London.

We stopped at every London landmark, taking countless pictures, and just enjoying our time alone together. He really treated me like a princess, making sure that I had an absolutely amazing day. And it was...a perfect day with the perfect man; I couldn’t have asked for anything more. So with a good mood set for the day we headed over to the venue.

Out of every single detail selected for the wedding, the venue was by far the most insane and the most extravagant. And by extravagant I mean that they were getting married in a castle... A CASTLE! Talk about a literal dream come true. From what I was told, the place had been completely rented out for the entire weekend, so if that wasn’t a huge reminder of just how rich the Carter’s were, then I don’t know what else would have been.

But with the castle being about 2 hours from where we were, and us being about 2 and half hours from when Peggy wanted us to meet downstairs so that we could start greeting people, I decided to do my makeup in the car and then Bucky and I would just change once we got into our room. The only problem with my plan had been Bucky thinking he was funny when he swerved the car on purpose, obviously trying to mess me up; he thought he was so cute. He’s just lucky that the end of my eyeliner was far enough away from me that it didn’t do nearly as much damage as it could have; I had a little mark on my cheek that I had to fix. He got a pretty good laugh anyway, but I had the rest of the drive to think of a proper payback.

About thirty minutes after Bucky’s prank, we pulled up in front of this gorgeous castle, absolutely picturesque, and ogled just a moment before a few people, who I could only assume worked there, came and grabbed our things from the car, parked the car for us, showed us to our room and then left us alone.

With little time left until we had to meet up with Steve, Peggy, Wanda, and Michael, Bucky went into the bathroom first and I took my dress and Bucky’s suit out of their garment bags, giving them a quick glance over for any wrinkles. When I couldn’t find anything too major, I went ahead and tried to do something with my hair, not really having the time to do too much to it.

Yet, Bucky had had plenty of time to shower and dry his hair, so when he came out of the bathroom, he was looking as handsome as ever and I thought that maybe now was a good time to get back at him.

So I was sitting on the bed looking at him and he walked over to his bag, going to grab clean clothes to change into. He easily caught on to me.

“See something you like?” He said, smiling at me.

“I don’t know, I guess it would depend on what you would do if I said yes.”

“Y/N...you are playing with fire…”

“What are you going to do about it?” He made his way across the room, dropping the clothes that were in his hands, and grabbing me in his arms before kissing me hard.

It’s been a little over a year since our first kiss and yet he still had that way of kissing me that just made me melt in his arms, physically and emotionally swoon. Yes, I was trying to get payback for earlier but where I had planned to tease him all night and make him regret messing with me, this plan was now seriously backfiring against my will to say no to him.

And as it usually did, the kiss developed a lot further than just a kiss. He was already naked from the shower and he was making quick work of the clothes I had been wearing. He just made me feel as if I was the only person in the world that mattered, like time completely disappeared when he kissed me, like we had no where else to be. Which actually did remind me that we had somewhere to be.

His lips moved down to my neck giving me, most likely, the only chance to interrupt this and get downstairs on time.

“Bucky…” I tried to stop him.

“God, you’re so beautiful.” His lips on my skin felt like Heaven, a heaven I really didn’t want to ignore, but...

“Oh God, Bucky we can’t do this.” He pulled away from me and looked at me, his lips only an inch away from mine.

“Do you want me to stop?” I had wanted to get payback for what he did earlier...but I also missed him so much over the past two months that I never wanted him to stop.

“No.” I closed the inch between us and pulled him closer to me. He took full advantage of this and kissed me as if he was seeing me for the first time all week; kissing him like this made the whole world fall away.

That is until we heard the knock at the door.

“I don’t want to particularly know, but I think I can guess what you two are doing in there, and guests are going to get here any second, so..." We heard Steve say outside our door.

Bucky fell beside me on the bed, letting me sit up and take a second to re-adjust the little that I still had on. I got off the bed first and went over to where our clothes were hanging. Bucky groaned before he too got off the bed, grabbing his boxers from the floor and putting them on, and then came over to get dressed. I took the dress off my hanger and slipped it over my head, then turned to Bucky so that he could zip it up. As he buttoned up his shirt and put on his pants, I tied his tie for him and as I fixed my lipstick, he put on his tie and jacket. Last, we both sat on the bed and put on our shoes, Bucky, obviously, taking a little longer than me. When we were ready to leave the room, he grabbed my hand and leaned down to give me one last kiss.

“I love you.” He said.

“I love you.”

We made our way to the door and opened it to see Steve standing there waiting for us. Bucky let me out first, like the gentleman he was, and yet he glared at Steve the whole time.

“Perfect timing as ever Steve.”

“You knew what time you needed to be downstairs.”

He walked off in front of us and we followed after him, letting him lead us through the castle, back downstairs. As we walked though, Bucky let go of my hand and walked behind me, trying his best to apparently smooth out my hair that he had messed up, something that I had missed earlier when we were getting ready.

Not being too far away from where everyone else was, we joined the group quickly, beating the first guest. Bucky grabbed my hand again, standing in line next to Wanda, Peggy and Steve, Michael was on the far side, as far away as he could be from me.

(Side note: at the bridal shower we had thrown for Peggy and Steve, Michael volunteered to come over from London to bring the Carter family gifts. Somehow he thought it was a good idea to kiss me, “because he was still in love with me,” which resulted in Bucky punching him. Bucky was just being civil now for Peggy’s sake, but he really hated Michael...so we both just kept our distance from him...as much as possible.)

Anyway, the first guest to arrive was actually Peggy’s grandmother and grandfather and a few other members after that, but seeing all of Peggy’s family actually made me kind of sad. Not because Peggy’s family was here, they were great and loved seeing Peggy and Steve right as they arrived, but because Steve didn’t have anyone. Everything that I had been told about Steve’s family was simple, his mother and father had both passed, they were both only children, and Steve was an only child. I didn’t know anything about his grandparents but apparently, neither did he. He seemed okay though about having only Peggy’s family at the wedding, he would always do anything for her. It just made me sad not to see anyone there for him.

And yet, a few minutes later, unexpectedly, Winnie walked in. She went to Steve first and I just watched how incredibly happy he was. Bucky and Steve had grown up together, they had practically been brothers and when Steve’s dad died, it was Bucky’s mom who helped his mom out and the same when Bucky’s dad died. And when Steve’s mom got sick and died, it was Winnie, Bucky, and Peggy who had helped him through. So I could see how much it meant to him that she came for the wedding.

After she said hi to Steve and Peggy, she came over to Bucky and I.

“Hi mom.” He said, giving her a big hug.

“My baby! You look so handsome.”

“You can thank Y/N for this one, she knows how to make me look my best.”

“Y/N.” She came over to me and gave me an even bigger hug, didn’t think that was possible.

“Hi Winnie. I had no idea you were coming, but I’m so glad you’re here.”

“I know. Peggy called me and asked if there was any way I could make it. She said that she knew that it was a long way for me to come but that it would mean a lot to Steve, so of course I had to come.”

“If we had known you were coming, we would have come and picked you up.”

“Yeah mom, we absolutely would have picked you up.”

“You guys are so sweet, but I didn’t want to interrupt your week together by making you pick me up from the airport. I know you crazy kids haven’t seen each other in a while.”

“Well, either way I’m glad you’re here.”

“I’m glad I’m here too.”

His mom went off with some of the other guests and we finished greeting whoever came in. Later when we walked throughout the house we saw that tea had been served and that we were pretty much stuck in a modern picture of Downton Abbey. Bucky and I liked to just wander around the room, tea cups in hand, and listen in on how Peggy’s family talked to each other. It was really just like an episode of Downton Abbey, except it was 2019.

And then we went to dinner. This wasn’t anything official for the wedding, it was just dinner. But coming from America where it was normal to have a rehearsal dinner it kind of felt like that but there wasn’t really any official talk about the wedding.

The food was amazing though. There were a lot of different courses, appetizers I had never tried before, a main course that was cooked to perfection, and dessert that was so decadent that I almost didn’t want to eat it.

Later Bucky and I were sitting on a couch in the main room, while Peggy and Steve were off somewhere, probably talking to her family.

“Bucky?”

“Yes?”

“Thank you for today.”

“You don’t need to thank me for anything. Showing you around London was my pleasure.”

“I had a lot of fun.”

“I did too.” He leaned down and gave me a kiss, not too long but long enough for his mom to come over to us and interrupt.

“You two are just the cutest; perfectly made for each other.”

“Thanks mom. It’s honestly all Y/N, she brings out the best in me.”

“And he’s the perfect gentleman who treats me like a queen.”

“Well I’m glad everything that I taught him has stuck.”

Sitting next to us, she asked a lot of questions about my job, what I was up to, the places I had visited and of course when the tour was over. I think she was trying to convince the two of us to get married and yet she was so indirect about it, it was kind of ingenious the way she brought it up; like an ambush but so innocent and motherly.

But as it got later Peggy and Steve started showing people to their rooms which gave Wanda, Vision, Bucky and I the perfect time to head to bed ourselves. While Bucky and I were walking to our room I texted Peggy letting her know that we were heading to bed and that she could text me if she needed anything.

I had every intention of going to bed as soon as we got in the room, Bucky...not so much. As soon as the door was shut and locked behind me he was kissing me senseless, like we hadn’t been interrupted earlier.

“I’ve been thinking about you all night.” He said between kisses, slowly backing me up towards the bed. “You just looked so beautiful in this dress.”

“So what are you going to do about it?” He smiled and laughed at the statement I had said to him earlier.

He kissed me again, this time going for the zipper on the back of my dress, I started to undo his tie and the buttons of his shirt, both of us getting completely undressed without breaking our kiss. This time when we kissed though, it wasn’t nearly as rough as it had started. There wasn’t a pressure there had been this afternoon, there wasn’t a possibility of being interrupted, nothing but him and me just so wholeheartedly loving each other. It was perfect, being with him was perfect.

And yet, the morning of the wedding came much earlier than planned. And by that I mean that Peggy snuck into our room, both Bucky and I only covered by a sheet, and woke me up before the sun was even up. She kept whispering about how we needed to get started on everything and I could obviously tell how nervous she was, but I was also naked and not in any position to talk about this without fear of flashing my best friend.

So I asked her to give me five minutes and that I would meet her out in the hallway. I wanted more than anything to snuggle back up to Bucky and sleep until at least the sun was up, but I couldn’t leave Peggy out in the hallway when she was freaking out. So I gently woke up Bucky and let him know what was happening, gave him a kiss goodbye, got dressed, and quietly walked out of the room. Peggy was pacing and Wanda was leaning against the wall, obviously waiting for me.

“What’s wrong Peggy?” I asked, stopping in front of her, making her stand still and look at me.

“There’s just so much to do and I woke up this morning with countless emails from my clients and I want to answer them but its my wedding day and I shouldn’t be thinking like a lawyer. And then I was sitting in my bed all alone and I was just thinking about things like, what if the flowers don’t get here and what if the bakers drop the cake and what if—”

“Okay, you need to stop. You’re assuming the worst possibilities because you’re stressed.” We decided that maybe we shouldn't talk in the middle of a hallway full of bedrooms where everyone was sleeping, so we walked down to Peggy’s room.

“That’s the thing, I’m not stressed—”

“Peggy do you know what time it is?” Wanda asked. We sat down on her bed.

“I wasn’t able to sleep that well.”

“Listen to me...everything is going to be fine. Despite what your mother and wedding planner have told you, today is not about the wedding, it’s about you and Steve. When you look back at this day you’re not going to think about the flowers or the cake, you’re going to think about how happy Steve made you and how grateful you are to have found someone as amazing as him. And I don’t know if this is just stress or fear or what but I think the biggest thing you’re facing right now is not being close to Steve.” I would know.

“I’ve been away from Steve for more than one night.”

“I’m sure you have been, but take it from someone whose been in a long distance relationship for over a year, when you feel lost and scared and stressed you don’t want to be alone. You don’t want to be half way across the country or even just down the hall from him when you feel like you need him, even if it’s just for a hug or to tell him how much you miss him.”

“Yeah.”

“I think that maybe when it’s a better time of day, I’ll go and talk to Steve and see if maybe we could do a little blindfolded meet up, I think it’ll help with what you’re feeling.”

“Really? That’s not breaking the rules is it?”

“No, as long as you don’t see each other it should be fine.”

“I think that’ll really help.”

“Good. So what do we need to do?”

“I think we should try and go back to sleep for a bit, I’m sorry for waking you guys up so early.”

“Well we can stay in here with you and that way you won’t feel so alone.” Wanda suggested.

“I think that’s a good idea.” I agreed.

“A mini sleepover, yeah, I would love for you guys to stay.”

So we all cuddled together in her bed and went back to sleep for a couple more hours, and when we were woken up this time, we all seemed to be in a much better mood. That is until we realized that it was Peggy’s mother and the wedding planner, who were now just in the room to talk and keep us from falling back to sleep.

They kept talking about everything we needed to do today and I could see the stress start to creep back into Peggy. So I texted Bucky, I needed to get these two together even if it was just for a minute.

Y/N: Are you awake?

BUCKY: I am

Y/N: Are you with Steve?

BUCKY: Yep

Y/N: We need to try and sneak Peggy over to see him

BUCKY: Is she okay?

Y/N: She’s just needs to see him. Trust me

BUCKY: What can I do?

Y/N: I just need you to find something to blindfold him with and I’ll let you know when we can escape her mother.

BUCKY: Okay

So as we started to get ready for the day, I looked for any chance for us to sneak off. But first we had to deal with her mom, which meant we had to play along until there was an opening. So we all took our turns showering, letting Peggy go first, and meeting up with her and the hair and makeup teams, as soon as we were done, in a bigger room down the hall. It was nice to be pampered on, to not have to worry about how I was going to do my hair or makeup, there was someone for that. Surprisingly, the longer we sat there the less stressed I felt, but I could tell that Peggy wasn’t feeling the same.

So when her mom got word of some kind of problem with the flowers, I saw the perfect chance to escape. So I texted Bucky first and asked where he was, letting him know we were on our way. I grabbed the blindfold we had and the three of us snuck down to the boy’s room, putting the blindfold on Peggy before I knocked. When I knocked, I heard some movement and we had to wait a minute before Bucky opened the door for us. The three of us obviously looked like we were getting ready, you know, we had clips in our hair and parts of our makeup done, but the boys looked like they were just lounging around...I was kind of jealous.

But anyway, Wanda and I helped Peggy into the room and over to Steve who was standing blindfolded by the bed. When she grabbed onto his arms and felt that it was him, she wrapped her arms around him and his around her, we could all see the immediate relief they felt to be close to each other again. So wanting to give them a minute, Vision, Wanda, Bucky and I went to sit on the couch on the opposite side of the room, Michael just sat in the chair in the corner of the room and ignored us; Vision should have been a groomsman but Peggy was scared that she would never hear the end of it if Michael wasn’t one, so Vision was there to hang out with the guys and help keep the peace between Bucky and Michael.

I sat next to Bucky with my legs draped over his lap and he leaned down to give me a kiss.

“Missed you this morning.” He said.

“I missed you too. Peggy was freaking out and she needed some help, I couldn’t say no to her. I’m just glad we were able to sneak over here, who knew that flowers would cause an emergency? I thought we were never going to get her mother to leave.”

“Yeah and I’m sure when they get down there and check all the flowers, they’ll find that everything is perfectly fine.” That sounded fishy to me.

“What did you do?”

“Steve was freaking out too. You presented a good idea but I knew that there had to be some way to get Amanda to leave the room…”

“You...are sneaky.”

“I would do anything for Steve and they needed to see each other.”

“Sap.”

“You’ve made me this way, loving you made me this way.”

“Then I’ve got nothing to complain about.”

We only had 10 minutes together before we had to get back to the room. I could tell that Peggy was feeling much better and looked excited to get ready and get down to the “altar.” So the ladies picked up where they left off and her mom came back into the room, claiming that everything was perfectly fine; I tried not to laugh, but I smiled at the thought of what Bucky did to help out his friends.

But as time passed and as we got closer to the start of the ceremony, I could tell that Peggy was getting a little nervous again. There wasn’t much we could do at this point but encourage her and let her know that she would see Steve soon.

Somewhere between the freaking out, getting ready, and the mimosas, we actually got to the final fifteen minutes before we were supposed to make our way to the ceremony room. So Wanda and I went ahead and got into our matching dresses and then went to help Peggy into hers.

Peggy’s dress was...stunning and absolutely special. See, when Steve’s mom got married it had been a tradition in her family to incorporate the “something blue” into the gown. Steve’s mom had had a light blue petticoat underneath her dress when she married his dad and Peggy knew that the best way to honor his mom was to continue the tradition. She took that same petticoat and asked the alterations team from her bridal shop to incorporate it into her dress, which only made the dress that much more special.

So with dresses, heels, and bouquets in place the wedding planner came in and told us that everyone was ready for us and since the ceremony was inside the castle we didn’t have to go very far. I was so excited to finally see Peggy and Steve get married, but even I had to admit that as we got closer to the ceremony space the more nervous I got. I wasn’t nervous about them or their marriage, more about the fact that I was walking down the aisle by myself.

But I pushed those feelings aside and held up Peggy’s train as we made our way down the stairs, stopping right outside the ceremony room, where Peggy’s dad waited for us (He got a little teary when he saw her in her dress, it was really cute). Despite the fact that we maybe only had a minute until we walked down the aisle, I turned to the girls and wrapped them both in my arms.

They both just laughed at me but hugged me back just as hard.

“You know, the next time we’ll hug like this you’ll be Mrs. Rogers.” I whispered.

“I know.” Peggy let go first and dabbed at her eyes, wiping a tear away before it fell.

“Let’s do this.” Wanda said and we all smiled.

The wedding planner watched as the ceremony started and then put us in our order, getting us ready to go; Peggy and Steve wanted as much of an American wedding as they could get: the only things they got were Peggy walking down the aisle last, Steve facing Peggy as she walked and an additional wedding cake to go along with the fruitcake. From where I stood, I could see that Peggy’s mom was seated in the first row to the left, Bucky’s mom in the first row to the right, Steve was standing at the end of the altar and Bucky and Michael, all three guys in gorgeous morning suits, were just now walking to their seats. I was the next one to walk down, Wanda following after me and then Peggy and her dad after her.

So as soon as the guys were seated to the right, I took in a deep breath and put all my faith in myself to not trip down the aisle. I smiled, I looked right ahead, I walked with as much grace as I could muster and then I caught Bucky looking at me with a big smile on his face. And it was as if every worry I ever had simply disappeared. I looked at him as long as I could and then I sat down next to Peggy’s mom, Wanda being beside me soon after.

And then small quartet started to play Canon in D.

Everyone stood from their seat and turned to face Peggy as she finally stepped into view. She looked even more gorgeous walking beside her dad, with the huge grin on her face and her eyes locked on Steve. I looked over at him and he was trying hard not to cry but I could see how emotional he was at seeing her in her dress. He looked up at the ceiling before she got up to him trying his best to squeeze the tears back in.

When she got up to the altar her dad moved the veil from her face and kissed her cheek, giving his official blessing with the officiant and handing her off to Steve.

He reached out for Peggy’s hands and looked at her with a brilliant smile on his face. But then he saw her dress, up close, and there was nothing holding back the tears anymore. He had to have seen the blue and it had to make him think of his mom. Seeing the free flowing tears Peggy stepped forward and wrapped her arms around him, giving them a very sentimental moment before the ceremony.

“Are you okay?” She asked. Just slightly pulling away from him.

“Yeah, I’m okay.” He reached up to wipe his tears and she got his other cheek. “You look beautiful.”

“Thank you.” They both stepped just enough away from each other, taking each other’s hands again and looking to the officiant.

“Are you guys ready?” The officiant asked and they nodded.

And then the ceremony began.

“It is my great honor to welcome everyone today to the union of Steve Rogers and Peggy Carter. We are gathered to celebrate the life that these two share, to celebrate the love that they have for each other and the love that they continue to find in each other every single day. This place in which we are now met has been duly sanctioned, according to law, for the celebration of marriages. You are here to witness the joining in matrimony of Steven Grant Rogers and Margaret Elizabeth Carter. If any person present knows of any lawful impediment to this marriage, he or she should declare it now.” He stated and when no one replied with anything we directed his attention back to Steve and Peggy.

“Are you Steven Grant Rogers free, lawfully, to marry Margaret Elizabeth Carter?”

“I am.” He replied.

“Are you Margaret Elizabeth Carter free, lawfully, to marry Steven Grant Rogers?”

“I am.”

“Marriage, according to the law of this country is the union of two people, voluntarily entered into for life, to the exclusion of all others. Today Steven and Margaret wish to publicly affirm this commitment and offer each other the security that comes from legally binding vows, sincerely made and faithfully kept. But first I was asked by the couple to read a poem, one they believe as do I, that perfectly describes not only their relationship but their future together.” He shifted the papers in his hands.

“The Art of Marriage” by Wilferd Arlan Peterson: Happiness in marriage is not something that just happens. A good marriage must be created. In the art of marriage the little things are the big things… It is never being too old to hold hands. It is remembering to say “I love you” at least once a day. It is never going to sleep angry. It is at no time taking the other for granted; the courtship should not end with the honeymoon, it should continue through all the years. It is having a mutual sense of values and common objectives. It is standing together facing the world. It is forming a circle of love that gathers in the whole family. It is doing things for each other, not in the attitude of duty or sacrifice, but in the spirit of joy. It is speaking words of appreciation and demonstrating gratitude in thoughtful ways. It is not looking for perfection in each other. It is cultivating flexibility, patience, understanding and a sense of humor. It is having the capacity to forgive and forget. It is giving each other an atmosphere in which each can grow. It is finding room for the things of the spirit. It is a common search for the good and the beautiful. It is establishing a relationship in which the independence is equal, dependence is mutual and the obligation is reciprocal. It is not only marrying the right partner, it is being the right partner. It is discovering what marriage can be, at its best.”

“This ceremony does not create a relationship, it is a symbol of how far you've come since the moment you met. It is a symbol of the promises you have and will make to each other as you grow stronger as individuals and as partners. No matter the challenges you face, you now face them together and your lives are no longer just for yourselves. You depend on one another to love, support, care, and protect you. These values and promises are not to be taken lightly and will remain with you for the rest of your lives.”

“Do you, Steven, take Margaret to be your lawfully wedded wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better or worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish all the day of your lives?”

“I do.”

“Do you, Margaret, take Steven to be your lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better or worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish all the day of your lives?”

“I do.”

“The rings?”

Bucky stood from his seat and walked over to the altar, handing Steve Peggy’s ring and Peggy Steve’s ring and then returned to his seat.

“Repeat after me.” He said to Steve.

“I, Steven, give you this ring as a symbol of my vow. With all that I am and all that I have, I promise to love and care for you as I accept your love now and for always.” He repeated and placed the ring on her finger. And then he moved to Peggy.

“I, Margaret, give you this ring as a symbol of my vow. With all that I am and all that I have, I promise to love and care for you as I accept your love now and for always.”

“Steven and Margaret you have both made the declarations prescribed by law and have made a solemn and binding contract in the presence of your witnesses here today. It therefore gives me great pleasure to declare that you are now legally married. Steve, you may kiss the bride.”

Steve stepped closer to Peggy and wrapped his arms around her before kissing her. The whole crowd erupted in applause and I seriously doubted there was a single dry eye in the place, at least I wore waterproof makeup.

When they broke from their kiss and the clapping stopped the officiant gave his final pronouncement.

“It is my honor to introduce, for the very first time, Mr. and Mrs. Rogers.”

Everyone clapped again and Steve and Peggy walked down the aisle together with Peggy’s arm laced through Steve’s. They both looked so happy that I couldn’t help but smile with them. As soon as they were out of the room, Bucky walked his mother down the aisle, followed by Peggy’s mom and dad, then Wanda and I, and last Michael.

We were told ahead of time to meet Peggy and Steve outside, where we would take some time and take photos before heading over to the reception, giving plenty of time for the rest of the party to arrive; apparently not everyone had been invited to the ceremony. So we let the photographer tell us how to pose and where to stand and who to stand by and whatever else.

Eventually we got to the point where she was done taking pictures with the family and then with the wedding party, so we all headed back to the party and gave Steve and Peggy a chance to take some individual photos and spend a little alone time together. Bucky, held my hand as Wanda, Bucky and I made our way back inside and as soon as we walked through the front doors Vision joined our group.

Walking into the reception...this space was absolutely gorgeous: tables covered in expensive linens, only the best china, elaborate centerpieces, hanging flowers, chandeliers, and candles everywhere. This is obviously where Steve and Peggy lost all decision making ability. This had Peggy’s mother written all over, not to mention the fact there had to be at least enough chairs and tables for 250 people; I wasn’t sure where the other 200 people were coming from but I wanted to go back to the small ceremony again.

Bucky and I still ventured in and found the table with our names, right next to Vision and Wanda, and sat in our chairs, waiting for Steve and Peggy to finish photos. This gave us a chance to relax from the sort of stressful morning and kind of check in with each other, especially since the four of us had kind of been separated all morning. So we talked and the guys had some funny stories about Steve getting ready and then Steve and Peggy made their entrance.

They looked just as happy before, if not more. They walked hand in hand to the middle of the dance floor and let the DJ present them to the new crowd, before joining us over at our table: Steve, Peggy, Peggy’s parents, Bucky's mom, Wanda, Vision, Michael, Bucky and I were at the front of the room looking out over the dance floor and to the guests.

It was almost simultaneously that the food began to be served. I wasn’t too sure what everything was on the plate but I recognized chicken which was delicious as was the other food I wasn’t sure about. Peggy and Steve did there best to eat properly, but I knew they were both probably starving seeing as it was a little after five and it was the first time they had eaten all day; it was tradition for the bride and groom to share their first meal of their wedding day as a married couple.

Having finished eating dinner and plates now being collected Peggy and Steve made their way over to the cake which was just as extravagant as the rest of the party. But where the big cake was all fruit cake and mostly just for the English guests who were used to eating fruitcake, Peggy and Steve had a second cake for the few Americans who were here and for the cake cutting, since it was smaller and easier to cut. If 250 people hadn’t been watching them I knew that Peggy would have tried to cover Steve’s face in cake but with her mother watching closely they both carefully placed a bite of cake in each other’s mouths, the guests applauding afterwards. Nice and proper.

After pictures had been taken of the cake cutting, servers came and started to cut and distribute the fruitcake, the few Americans at our table asking for the other. And as soon as everyone had had their piece, Steve stood from his chair and reached out his hand for Peggy to take, asking her for the first dance of the night. The band started to play Dream a Little Dream of Me, which I knew was their favorite song to dance to, and then he wrapped his arms around her and lead her into a very sweet and very simple dance.

When the song finished they helped Peggy back to her chair and then it was time for the speeches...unfortunately, Michael was up first. Being the bride’s brother, and seeing as the nature of toasting in London was actually supposed to be a roast, Michael should have had a lot of material. And he had some funny things to say, I’ll give him that. But it was when he started talking about me and about how his ex was best friends with his sister, was when it got real awkward for me and a little anger inducing for Bucky. When he finally wrapped up his speech there was an awkward clap, I’m not even sure about what happened, so I could only imagine the confusion of everyone else.

Waiting for Michael to not be in the same walkway as him, Bucky then made his way up to the mic; I know he was ready for his speech, he had rehearsed it with me multiple times over Skype.

“Hi, my name is Bucky and Steve is practically my brother. In every sense of the word he is, believe me. Brothers...they annoy you to no end, do the exact opposite of what you say just for the hell of it, and of course they give the best material for the best man’s roast, I mean speech. The first thing that you need to know about Steve is that this man that you have all fallen in love with is the exact opposite of the man that I grew up with. Yeah he’s handsome and he’s managed to snag Peggy who at the time, when they met, was way out of his league...may still be but I’ll leave that alone for now. But what none of you know is just how crazy this guy was. The biggest thing about Steve was that when we were in high school he was not nearly as handsome as he is now, sorry buddy, you’re married now so I’m allowed to say this.” Everyone laughed and he paused so they could. “Despite that he was the most loyal, most kind boy you would ever meet...which was not a hit with the ladies, I’m sure you could imagine why. And I thought for a long time on what embarrassing story to tell, it had to be something that you had never heard of but something that didn’t absolutely ruin him for you guys. So this story is actually a well kept secret, the thing that I was sworn to never repeat, a secret that has been kept since we were seniors in high school…”

“Bucky.” He stood and said, almost in a warning. Peggy pulled him back down into his chair, laughing at how defensive he was being.

“See, he’s scared so it’s perfect. But anyway, as most of the close family would know, Peggy and Steve started their relationship as friendship; they were just as close as I had been to Steve...except the tension between those two was definitely romantic where the tension between me and him was due to him stealing my comic books or something stupid like that. Anyway, as friends, the three of us were inseparable and then we got to prom season our senior year. The three of us had always gone to homecoming together, but this was the prom and you absolutely had to have a date. Peggy was the “it” girl and like I said earlier, way out of Steve’s league, and she was the date that every guy wanted. I always had the suspicion that she said no to those other guys because she was waiting for Steve, which she was, but he had it in his head that he couldn’t just ask her, he had to outshine everyone. So Peggy being asked out by the quarterback was kind of the last straw for him, the next day he came up with the ultimate ask-Peggy-to-prom plan. And this plan...It started out with flowers, the most beautiful bouquet you could imagine...and it ended with a broken arm.” There were some confused faces and a small laugh.

“I’m dead serious guys, a broken arm. So the day that Steve had planned to ask Peggy to prom was actually the best and worst day of my 18 year old life. The best because I had only waited a little over three years for him to get the courage to do it. The worst because of how it went. But our first stage was buying everything for what he wanted to do: flowers, candles, flower petals, her favorite candy, something he saw that he thought she’d like, a lot of presents, and then we went and had film developed of every single picture they had ever taken together. Once we got everything, we waited until she was out of her house, drove over and started to set up this surprise. Now obviously we couldn’t go inside, so naturally we scaled the fence and set it up in her backyard. We made a heart of rose petals, spelled out “Prom?” in candles, and had all of her gifts set out on the table. Steve was dressed in the nicest thing he owned and holding the flowers, standing behind his sign. And we must have waited for hours, and I mean literal hours, not just figuratively. The candles kept blowing out, the wind was blowing the petals all over her yard and then what I thought was the unthinkable happened, and yet it was still highly probable with Steve in the picture; he was a big klutz. But this is the fun part.”

“So he goes to light a few of the candles again, but like I said earlier, he’s a klutz, and he trips and falls on top of the ones that are still lit. Now most of them didn’t catch but there was one that did. So in a moment of pure panic he runs over to this pond that they have in their backyard, and as he is running over to stop from anymore of his shirt catching on fire, he trips again, halfway falling into this pond and breaking his arm in the process.”

There was quite a bit of laughter and everyone watched as Peggy sat across his lap, trying to keep him in his seat.

“So anyway...that happened. But back to the story. So his arm is broken, I’m trying not to laugh and yet I’m trying to help him off the ground without hurting him, and there’s now no way he can ask Peggy to prom this way; I mean I guess he could, but I wasn’t going to let him. Now this is the part that Steve doesn’t know. I’m pretty sure that what he thinks happened is that she saw the set up and came to find him. Right?” He asked Steve and he nodded. “Well I have to tell you that that is not what actually happened. I told you to go to my car and I told you that I was going to finish setting up the promposal...but that’s not what I did. And it may have been selfish but I just didn’t think that either of you deserved that. Steve, you went out of your way to prepare this romantic promposal and Peggy had waited almost four years for this moment, so Steve deserved to actually be there and Peggy deserved to be asked in person. So I, very quickly, cleaned up everything. I threw away the rose petals, the candles, and I took all the presents and flowers and put them on the front porch, minus the photos, I took those with me. But I obviously couldn’t just leave all of this with no explanation of why it was there or who left it. So I grabbed this receipt and a crayon from my pocket, don’t ask me why I had a crayon, I couldn’t even tell you, and wrote out: Come and find me? Brooklyn Hospital. Steve. I wasn’t sure what that would do, but I had to hope that these two would get some common sense and just go for it. Peggy did end up meeting us at the hospital though and Steve told her…”

Bucky stepped off the makeshift stage and came back over to our table, leaning over close to us, Steve glaring at him the whole time.

“Now Peggy...what was the excuse that he gave you?” He held out the microphone for her to answer.

“He told me that he broke his arm playing baseball with you.”

“He would say something like that wouldn’t he...if I’m being honest I couldn’t remember the excuse, so thanks for that.” He then walked back up to the stage, laughing, as was everyone else. “Anyway...I’m going to wrap up I promise. So after the excuse of the century, Steve finally asked Peggy to prom and of course she said yes and I guess the rest is history. They sat in his hospital stall as he was getting his cast put on and they looked through the photos and when they came back from the prom it was nothing but love with those two. I have to say, the moral of this story wasn’t to out this secret, it’s wasn’t too embarrass him or roast him, even though it was kind of fun to do that, it was to prove the lengths that he would go to to make Peggy happy. Him meeting her was fate and it took them three years to finally get past friendship, but I know that they’re stronger for it and will forever be perfect for each other. He’s my brother and I could never imagine him being with anyone else. So thank you for letting me come up here and talk your ear off. Steve and Peggy...I love you guys, you know that, and I totally take credit for getting you two together. Thanks everyone!”

Everyone applauded as he came around and gave Steve and Peggy each a hug before coming to sit back beside me.

“You did great.” I said to him.

“Thank you, my favorite pastime is embarrassing Steve, except this time he asked me to do it.” I laughed and leaned forward to give him a kiss.

Next up in the wedding agenda, we had the father daughter dance with Peggy and her dad, and the mother son dance with Steve and Winnie, obviously making the whole room come back to a little more of a serious note, but giving the perfect opportunity to invite people on the dance floor and to really get the party started.

There were happy, upbeat, and modern songs and there were jazzy, vintage, and slower songs, just a perfect mix given the variety of ages amongst the guests. Bucky and I danced a few times between getting drinks and eating cheeses and other assorted finger foods, I even danced with Steve, Vision, Wanda, and Peggy all individually and we did a few group dances for fun. And then we got to another slow dance and of course I let Bucky pull me away from everyone else and put the attention back on us for a second.

“Hi.” I said.

“Hey beautiful.”

“You know, I haven’t had the chance to tell you how handsome you look today.”

“Well I haven’t been able to tell you how beautiful you are.”

“That’s a lie, you told me earlier, right before the pictures.”

“Can you really blame me though, I have the most beautiful girlfriend in the world.”

“Bucky…”

“What? I do.”

“Well thank you. I was trying to compliment you, but thank you.”

“Your very welcome...but you may continue complimenting me.” He was just cracking me up today. I hadn’t seen him just effortlessly happy in a long time, I missed seeing him like this.

“I just loved seeing you as I walked down the aisle...you looked so handsome and you were smiling and I felt so much love for you.”

“You have to know that I felt the same way.”

“I do. And not only do you look so handsome but I am loving the finished product of your morning suit.”

“Well, I only look this good because of you. You’re the one who made sure we all looked good, even you know who.”

“Do you want to know what my favorite part about this morning suit is?”

“I have two guesses.”

“Okay.” I smiled

“Number one: you like it...because you can’t wait to take it off of me later.” I laughed at him.

“Wasn’t exactly what I was thinking but I don’t mind where you’re going.” This time he laughed at me.

“Well it’s a good thing that that wasn’t the real answer then. Number two...you like it because my pants are high waisted and you can’t see my white shirt when I lift my hands above my head.”

I took in a deep breath, my jaw hitting the floor. “Oh my god...you know me so well.” I pulled him down and kissed him; I could feel him smile.

“Well if you had doubts before…” I laughed at him.

“Yeah, no doubts now.” I teased.

“Good.”

After we were done with our dance, Bucky grabbed my hand and walked out of the house and down to the dock overlooking the lake, claiming to want a second alone with me in a space not so loud. The scene was absolutely beautiful with the setting sun and the calming waters, it was the perfect escape from the crazy party happening inside.

We walked down to the very end and leaned against the railing, taking a moment to breath in the air and enjoy the peace and quiet.

He turned and looked at me and I leaned back against the corner of the railing, letting it support me a little more and take some of the pressure off my aching feet.

“Can I admit something?” He asked.

“Of course.”

“I missed you this week.” Curious...

“We’ve actually spent a lot of time together—”

“I know, but it’s not the same when everything we’re doing is for someone else, you know? Yeah we saw each other, and we got to be in the same room as each other but we didn’t get to really spend as much quality alone time together. It’s why I wanted to bring you out here...for just a moment.”

“Well you couldn’t have picked a better moment. It’s beautiful out here.”

“Yeah it is.” Except he was still looking right at me. Sap. I just shook my head at him. “Seeing how happy Steve and Peggy are, it made me think about us and about how much I love you. And honestly I don’t think I’ve told you that nearly enough.”

“Bucky...I know that you love me. Just because you don’t say it to me doesn’t mean that I don’t know it. And I know that I’ve made things complicated this past year—”

“You haven’t made anything complicated.”

“I’m the one who took this job.”

“That’s your dream.”

“You’re my dream.”

“And you’re mine.”

We both turned back out and looked at the water, watching the sun change it different colors.

“You know...the first thing you ever said to me was in Russian.”

“Really...I guess it was, wasn’t it?”

“I’ve been thinking about that a lot. I remember being so nervous that day and then I walked into that room and saw that huge panel of people sitting there, watching me. The nerves had been bad before but they were worse after that, and I’m not sure if you could tell but I was about ready to walk out of there. Then they asked me about myself and I just tried my hardest not to lose it, and then you spoke. ‘Ты говоришь по-русски?’ I looked over at you and my heart leapt in my chest (You speak Russian?). You hadn’t said more than three words to me and I was completely amazed by you. You were the reason I accepted the job. You were the reason I went and said hello to everyone on set that first day, I didn’t want you to catch on that I had only come to see you. You were the reason that I did everything I did and you are still the reason I do everything I do. But the craziest part is that I'm still falling in love with you after all this time and after everything we’ve been through. There are things that I fall in love with everyday and it’s amazing. You’re just...amazing. And there’s no one else I would rather be amazed with for the rest of my life than you. Because I love you and you’re my everything. So no matter if you’re ten feet from me or 10,000 feet, I’m always going to love you.”

“Bucky…”

“I just thought you should know.”

“Well I definitely thought I knew, but it’s nice to hear it from you.” I reached up and kissed him with tears in my eyes, wrapping my arms around his neck and pulling him close to me. God, he was just the sweetest and honestly the master of grand gestures, a pro. “I love you too, you know. I don’t think I can come up with something that sincere and wonderful on the spot, but I want you to know that I feel the same way about you.”

“Oh, no, I definitely rehearsed that.” We both laughed at each other and he let go of me, reaching for something in his jacket pocket. “I have something for you.”

“You didn’t have to get me anything.” He pulled out an envelope and put it in my hands. On the outside ‘James’ was written, in a very familiar handwriting. I looked up at him, completely shocked by what this could be. He gestured for me to open it.

“Asa gave this to me. And I think it’s a perfect time for you to read it.”

So I opened the letter and pulled out the note, a note that my father had written to Bucky before he died. I could already feel the tears in my eyes coming back, but tried to hold them back so that I could read what he wrote.

****

Dear James,

On the last day of a man's life there are quite a few things that tend to go through his mind. I thought of two things: my wife and my daughter.

I thought about how much I missed my wife and how lucky I was to know that she was waiting for me. That day I saw her face a lot, everytime I closed my eyes I saw her eyes looking right back at me, almost beckoning me in a way. And God if I didn’t want to go to her. When I had been as sick as long as I had, there just came a point where the fighting didn’t seem worth it, not when I could have stayed with her.

But I thought of Y/N and I thought of the lies that I had told her and the secrets that I had kept. With time she would forgive me for them, but if I didn’t say goodbye to her, if I didn’t tell her one last time how much I loved her, then I knew that she would never forgive me. So I called her and as a father does sometimes, I lied to her to protect her from my impending leave.

And then she asked me about you. The same man who had gone on a television show to find love and had coincidentally fallen in love off screen. The same man who cared for her and was there for her in the ways that no one had been before. The same man who is her best friend, the love of her life and her hero. And in a way, James, you are my hero too.

When I’m gone, things will be hard for her. She always believed in this idea of who her parents were, praising us for our titles and not for our actions. Her mother was a saint but never really got the chance to show Y/N the things that moms get to show their children. And I...I was the perfect idea of a father, from a distance I was everything that she was missing. But when I sent her to America, I didn’t know that her grandparents would keep her.

I want to tell you that I fought harder to bring her back, but with her mom gone and her parents wealth and my lack thereof, it seemed impossible. My life without my wife became unbearable and the medical bills just as so, not to mention I had no legal way of getting to the states, not a way that was fast anyway. So with life stacked against me, I let her go, hoping that at the very least her grandparents could give her a better life than I could.

Y/N never knew the truth and in every way all I seem to do is cause her pain, which is why I never told her about my being sick.

There are choices that we have to make in this life. We never know if they’re right and yet my mistakes and lies have somehow brought her to you. So in a way I hope they weren’t all mistakes because no matter what I did in this life, my life was always for Y/N.

But now I’m passing the baton. She loves you and she’s going to need you now more than ever. So if there’s only one thing that you ever do in this life, just make her happy. Show her the world, give her everything that she could possibly dream of, be her everything, but most importantly love her as if every day is your last. Love her and never let go.

So fall more in love with each other, learn new things about each other, grow old with each other, do the things that I never got to do with my wife. Just make sure to always love each other and everything else will be okay. I promise.

Take care of my little girl,

Your future and late father-in-law

P.S. I hope what’s in this envelope helps

****

“What’s in the—” I looked up to see Bucky down on one knee, with a ring in his hand. All air had completely left my lungs and I knew that if my face wasn’t already covered in tears, that it was now.

“I’ve had this for a little over a year now, but I’ve known for a lot longer that I was going to marry you someday. It was never a question of if, just a question of when and I can’t see a better moment than right now. So...Y/N Y/L/N will you marry me?”

Without any hesitation and with a huge smile on my face, I said, “Yes. God, yes.”

I knelt down and gave him a big kiss, holding his face in my hands and not letting go for a long time. When I pulled away, he stood up and put that gorgeous ring on my finger. And if I thought the tears had been bad before, I don’t even know what was happening now. He could see how emotional this was for me and he just pulled me into his arms and held me tight to him.

“Are you okay?” He asked, placing a hand on my cheek and bring me back up to look at him.

“Am I okay? I am so happy, I really am.”

“I know it’s hard not having your dad here.”

“I didn’t even know that he wrote to you. I knew that I had mentioned and told him a little about you, but that letter was just so personal, like he knew how much you meant to me.”

“Asa. After that time that he spent with us, he told him every little detail about us and he knew, he knew how much I loved you.”

“I love you so much. I can’t believe you proposed.”

“I’m so incredibly happy you said yes.”

“How could I have ever said no? You make me happier than anyone in the world.”

“You make me happy too.”

Instead of going back inside right away, we went and walked around the grounds, enjoying the sunset and the beauty of the castle. Then that curiosity from earlier was brought up.

“I’ve been thinking about something for a little while now, I wanted to talk to you about it. See, I spoke to Steve and Peggy about proposing to you and Peggy had some interesting things to say. She asked you about us getting married and you didn’t think it was good time because of the tour.”

“Well, you have to admit that it’s not. We’re practical people, we understand the busyness of our lives and we saw what Steve and Peggy went through when planning their wedding. I hardly get to see you as it is and planning a wedding, our wedding, over Skype just...it’s not something I want to do.”

“First of all, our wedding is not going to be like this wedding. It’s beautiful and has absolutely celebrated the couple that they are, but you have to admit that it’s kind of crazy. We don’t have an Amanda and we don’t nearly have as much family and where Peggy and Steve had to fight a lot for a day that was even a little bit there's, we get to choose what we want. So that’s the first thing, the second thing is that I never want you to feel guilty about taking jobs that make you happy. I know how much you love what you do, I know you love the theatre. And I’m going to be there with you every step of the way no matter what you choose to do. This proposal isn’t about us settling down and getting married, this is about me making a commitment to you, it’s about me wanting to spend the rest of my life with you. I don’t care if we get married tomorrow or ten years from now. We could just go and get married in a courthouse and I would be perfectly happy. But I just want you to be happy, and I want you to stop thinking that I could ever be disappointed or upset that you took this tour. We will figure everything out, just as we have since the moment we met.”

“You’re amazing and I love you.”

“You’re amazing and I love you too.”

“I’m not ready to go back inside.”

“Then let’s not go back inside just yet.”

As the sun kept going down we just watched as the colors of the sky made everything that much more beautiful. But as you could imagine, being gone as long as we had, made a certain friend group curious. Bucky and I were sitting closer to the front entrance, they had some little concrete wall/benches, when Steve, Peggy, Vision and Wanda found us.

“You guys have been out here for a long time.” Peggy said. She was obviously the most curious out of everyone but it also seemed like she totally knew what happened.

I didn’t even say anything I just took my left hand from Bucky’s and held it up for them to see which definitely resulted in some squealing and lots of hugs. They were obviously so happy for us and in that moment I just got really emotional again. I could feel the tears in my eyes and I tried really hard to keep them in.

“Hey, why are you crying?” Bucky asked, bending down to my level and wiping a tear from my cheek.

“It’s just been such an emotional day. Earlier you gave me that letter from my dad and it really made me realize that my mom and dad will always be a part of me, but the five of you are my family. And I couldn’t imagine a better family to have.” I started to say to Bucky and then spoke to the group.

Trying to keep those tears back failed when they attacked me in a group hug; I think everyone got a little teary eyed hearing that. And being right in the middle of all of this love just reminded me of how good my life was and how lucky I was to find such wonderful people.

When we managed to stop crying, we decided that the six of us had definitely been out for too long, and headed back inside to the reception. We danced, we partied, we drank but most importantly we loved.

Somewhere amongst the partying I went and hung out with Winnie who was the most excited out of everyone that Bucky and I were engaged; I’m serious about that too. And from the get go she had so many ideas, I could tell that she had been thinking about this for some time. Bucky seeing the slight panic on my face though, and from across the room, came to rescue me, taking me back to the dance floor.

And then it got late into the night and guests started to leave, giving the perfect opportunity for Steve and Peggy to bow out for the night, needing the sleep for their flight to St. Lucia the following morning. So they walked around the room and said goodbye to everyone and then they got to me.

“So...you quit your job and didn’t tell me right?” Peggy asked. “I can’t go another six months without you.” I laughed and wrapped my arms around her.

“No I didn’t quit my job...but they did add a show stop in LA.”

“Really? Steve and I are totally coming to see the show.”

“I would expect nothing less. Have a great honeymoon.”

“I will and you enjoy being engaged.”

“I will.”

Steve was next, giving me a huge hug and telling me how happy he was to be getting a sister. And then the people who were left gave them a proper send off, with picturesque sparklers and a vintage car for them to drive off in.

After they left though, everyone sort of made their way either back to their rooms or to wherever they were staying. So Bucky and I said goodnight to Wanda and Vision and went up to our room to do a little more of a private celebration of our engagement and of course before that I had to call Asa and let him know, he was practically my dad; we decided to call friends in the morning.

And when the sun rose we got ready for our day, cleaned out our room, ate breakfast, and got on the road back to London. We had called Tony, telling him and Pepper, who had gotten remarried and were perfectly happy with each other, our wonderful news. So as a pre-pre wedding gift, he gave Bucky another week off so that we could really spend some time together. Of course I was grateful for any time I got to be with Bucky but it was nice to spend a little more time together as an engaged couple and in the same state no less.

But a decision that I cherished more than anything in the world, and thought back to frequently, was taking that job at the network. At the time it had only been a way for me to make ends meet, I needed money and they needed someone who actually knew what they were doing. And yet, I got a lot more than I ever bargained for: I got a family and I met the love of my life. But like that journey had shown me, not everything was going to be easy and there were going to be moments where I had to depend on the people in my life to help me and love me.

But most importantly it was moments like Peggy’s wedding, Wanda’s wedding, eventually my wedding and every milestone in between, that really showed me the amount of love that I had in my life, something I hadn’t thought I had before I met Bucky. So even though my friendship with Bucky seemed a little too real for Reality TV, our marriage continues to grow as we face new challenges and fall a little more in love with each other each and every day. So who needs Reality TV when you’ve got a Bucky?

****

THE END

****

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torestoreamends · 5 years ago

Text

Mine to Make: Chapter 13

Albus and Harry have a heart-to-heart, and Harry lays out some of his plans for how to fix things. Meanwhile, Scorpius wakes up and is determined to remember what’s happened to him, no matter the cost.

Beta’d by @abradystrix.

N.B. This fic is complete on AO3, so binge read away there if you want. Here on tumblr I’ll be posting a chapter every day until it’s all done.

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XIII Lost

Rain pounds down out of the black sky. A flash of lightning illuminates the slick, jagged cliff-sides of the snaking gorge, and a rumble of thunder echoes across the landscape an instant later. A harsh winter wind swirls between the sheer rock walls, stirring up the rain so it scatters in no particular direction.

At the top of the gorge, Albus can barely stand up straight because he’s being buffeted so hard by the wind. He clutches the wet handle of his broom as tight as he can so he doesn’t let go, and when he mounts up, he’s blown sideways and only just manages not to come off. Only an idiot would fly in these conditions, an idiot with a death wish, and today that’s a perfect description of Albus.

It’s through sheer force of will alone that he manages to take off and hover without being thrown halfway across the hillside. He hangs steady in the air, clinging to the broom with hands and feet, eyes narrowed as the wind sends a wall of rain straight into his face, lashing at him hard enough to sting. Even with his goggles on, it’s nearly impossible to see more than a few feet in front of him, but regardless, he leans forward and edges away into the gorge.

Instantly the wind switches. A strong tail wind lifts his broom and flings it out of control into the gorge. If Albus hadn’t been expecting it, it would have flipped him over and sent him to his death, but he knows this place like the back of his hand, and it gives him the speed he was looking for.

He hurtles into the shadow of the gorge. It’s so dark and the rain is so heavy that he’s effectively blind, flying by touch alone, and he’s not even really doing that because his hands are so painfully numb with cold. It’s muscle memory and luck that keep him from dashing himself on the jagged rocks. But on a night like this it doesn’t matter that he’s always a millimetre, a split second, from oblivion. On a night like this he’s only here because he doesn’t care anymore. On a night like this he’s here because no one cares. There’s not a soul in the world, including himself, who would mind if he ended the evening in a hundred tiny pieces, spattered across the cliffs. It would probably be a relief for everyone.

And this is the secret to Sev’s success. He has nothing to lose, nothing to tie him down, no one to miss him. He’s alone in this world and that makes him fearless. Nights like this are his best training, because if he can fly fast in this then he can win any race thrown at him. Nights like this might also be his downfall, but if they are then at least he’ll go out with his heart pounding in his chest, body flooded with adrenaline, feeling alive.

He flattens himself against his broom handle and lets go of everything and everyone. He’s alone, unwanted, with only his speed to give him any validity in the world. He exists to win races, and as much as he wishes there was more to it than that, there isn’t.

Sev is a racer, only a racer, and Albus was left behind in the Slytherin boys’ dormitory on his seventeenth birthday. Flying is all that’s left. There’s no turning back now, no changing it, no escaping what he’s created for himself. This rain-slick broom and these tight twists and turns are all that matter in his life. If he tames them both then he’s a hero; if he doesn’t then what’s the point of him anyway?

He weaves and turns and fights the wind. He shouldn’t still be alive but he is. And when he gets to the bottom of the gorge he flies back up, bowing his head against the wind, and does it all again. Each time he survives. Each time he cares a little bit less. Each time he flies with more flair and reckless abandon. This is the cycle of his life now until it ends. This is Sev’s world, and Albus can’t help but wish that he didn’t have to share it.

The wooden arm of the chair digs into Albus’s side, but he doesn’t move. He’s curled up beside Scorpius’s bed, trying to use the still, darkened room to lull himself to sleep, but he’s been here for hours and even though he’s exhausted, sleep isn’t coming.

He blinks and yawns, then peers through the gloom to see if there’s any sign of Scorpius waking up. There’s no movement from the bed. Scorpius is still lying flat on his back, blond hair spread across the pillow and shining in the faint light. There are bandages wrapped round his body and they’re still crisp white; he’s not bleeding anymore. He’s breathing now too. Even in the low light Albus can see his chest gently rising and falling. They’ve been told that he’ll wake up whenever he’s ready. It’s a waiting game.

A thin gold line in the air traces Scorpius’s heartbeat, the steady, determined pulse of life within him. From the outside everything looks fine, but another spell that’s hanging in the air next to it tells a different story.

A shadowy figure swirls with different colours that seem to change and shift by the second. Albus isn’t completely sure how to interpret the diagram – a Healer had explained it to them earlier but he’d been too busy staring at Scorpius’s unconscious form to pay attention – but he does know that the spell maps the injuries and spell damage scattered across Scorpius’s body, and he understands that red is bad.

There’s a lot of red. Most of it is in Scorpius’s head, a whole cluster of it, caused by multiple spells. Albus has tried to make himself stop staring at it but he hasn’t been able to yet. He wishes the Healers would dismiss the spell, but they’ve said they need it to monitor progress. Albus is no expert but he thinks they’re wasting their time. There is no progress. The situation just continues to be bad.

He rubs his eyes and bows his head. When he blinks it feels like he’s blinking sand. He’s so tired, but he can’t sleep.

A door clicks open across the room, and he jumps far too violently for such a tiny noise. His head jerks up and he stares wildly at the figure coming through the door. It’s just his dad, he realises. His dad, looking about as exhausted as he feels.

There’s soot smudged on his forehead, and he scratches at it and runs a hand through his hair before he realises Albus is watching him. He drops his hand to his side and comes over.

“I thought you were asleep.”

“I wish I was,” Albus says, voice hoarse and scratchy. “What did they say?”

“Nothing.” Harry drops into the seat beside him. “They’ve tried absolutely everything with that book but they’ve got nowhere. The only thing they haven’t done yet is Parseltongue, and I don’t think any of us can do that these days anyway.” He sighs and rubs his eyes, then adjusts his glasses on his nose.

“He was adamant that it was important,” Albus says, glancing at his dad. “He wouldn’t let us go without it.”

Harry shrugs. “Hopefully he knows something we don’t. We can ask him about it when he wakes up.”

“If he wakes up,” Albus murmurs, looking once again at all the red.

Harry reaches across and rubs his back. “He’ll wake up. He’s Scorpius Malfoy, spectacularly stubborn and astoundingly resilient. Just like you. You two suit each other.”

Albus looks down at his hands. “I suppose so.”

“Is Draco back yet?”

Albus shakes his head. “Not yet.“

“Then we’ll have to take care of Scorpius ourselves while he’s away,” Harry says, giving Albus’s shoulder a squeeze.

“I don’t know if I should be allowed to do that,” Albus murmurs.

Harry lets go of his shoulder and shuffled sideways, looking at him. “Are you okay, Albus?”

Albus shakes his head. “No. I’m not, I’m- I’m scared.”

“Of what?” Harry asks, eyeing him carefully.

Albus hangs his head and hunches his shoulders. “I’m scared that... That he won’t wake up. I’m scared that all this is my fault. I’m scared of what he’ll say when he does wake up. I’m scared that I’ve been making all the wrong decisions this whole time, and that it’s hurt us all for nothing... I’m- I’m scared of everything, Dad. I think I’ve really, colossally fucked up, even more than I thought I had, I-“ He swallows and stares down at the ground. “I’ve been really stupid,” he whispers.

“Why do you think this is your fault?” Harry asks, frowning. “Someone hurt Scorpius and it wasn’t you...” He takes a breath. “When I was in school, in my fifth year, Voldemort’s snake attacked your granddad, and I saw it happen in a dream. I thought that was my fault too, even though it wasn’t. I know this stuff is difficult, Albus, but you don’t have to blame yourself for everything.”

Albus shakes his head. “But this isn’t like a snake in a dream. This is real, Dad. Draco told me what happened to Scorpius after I left. If I hadn’t run away then he would have got what he was supposed to in school, he wouldn’t have ended up working for you; he’d be safe in the Department of Mysteries, just like he always wanted.”

“But you don’t know that he’d be safe if you’d stayed,” Harry says. “We make a lot of decisions in our lives, Albus. You leaving was a big one but it’s not an exact chain from there to now. Seven years happened in between.” He resettles himself in his chair. “In my job I have to make a lot of decisions and sometimes people get hurt. If I dwell on every single one of those missions that went wrong, worrying if it was my fault, I’d go crazy. I used to do it, but I had to learn not to. Maybe you need to learn the same lesson now.”

Albus sits up. “You’re not listening to me,” he says, voice rising as he rakes his fingers through his hair in frustration. “Scorpius got stuck. I left, everyone thought he’d killed me or kidnapped me, or- You did nothing to correct them. You knew the truth but you let it happen. You didn’t even help him. You didn’t promote him, you didn’t encourage him, you let him languish doing the shit jobs that no one else wanted. And now this particular shit job has left him like this.”

He flings his arm out, gesturing to the unconscious shape of Scorpius in the bed. “This is my fault. My fault for running away. And I guess it’s also your fault. Your fault for lying and protecting yourself and not caring about him. But maybe it doesn’t matter that it’s your fault because you won’t lose any sleep over it, will you?”

He’s on his feet now, and he’s shouting. He knows he shouldn’t be, because Scorpius needs to rest and heal, but he can’t stop himself. He’s exhausted and angry and upset, and now it’s all coming out in a huge wash of emotion.

“Albus,” Harry says in a hushed voice, also getting to his feet. “That’s not true. Of course these things bother me, of course I lose sleep over them, but-“

“But not enough to change anything,” Albus shouts, voice breaking. Hot tears blur his vision and he wipes a hand furiously across his eyes. “Everyone thinks you’re this big hero: Harry Potter, the boy who lived. But you’re not. Not anymore. You grew up without them noticing, and now you’re just Harry Potter, the man who didn’t give a shit. Not about me, not about Scorpius.”

He sniffs and wipes his eyes again. “I know I made a mistake, Dad. I admit it. I know that- that Delphi has something to do with all this. I left to find myself and my future and I don’t think I found anything except questionable friends and a job that’s nearly killed me several times. I’m as lost as I was when I started. But at least I’ll admit that. You won’t even admit that you’re the reason I ran away. You won’t admit that... that Scorpius could live or die and you wouldn’t care a-as long as you didn’t have to look at yourself in the mirror.”

He gulps in a breath between the desperate sobs that have overwhelmed him and keeps going. “I really want to fix things, Dad. I want to make things better, not just with Scorpius a-and my life and everything, but with you too. But it’s impossible. It’ll keep being impossible until you admit that we’re here because of both of us. Scorpius is... is there because of both of us. And I can’t just come back and say sorry because that’s not enough to give him what he deserves... I need you to think about that. Please. Because I-I really don’t want to keep doing this.”

He looks down at Scorpius, who hasn’t moved an inch despite the commotion. His eyes are still closed, he’s still breathing softly and slowly. And despite whatever might be going on inside him, whether he’ll wake up and be the same as he was before or not, whether he’ll even wake up at all, he’s still the Scorpius that Albus promised Draco he would help love, appreciate, and protect.

He goes over and kneels down next to Scorpius, taking hold of his hand. “I’m going outside for a bit,” he murmurs. “I’m sorry for all the noise. I love you and I’ll be back.” Then he kisses the back of Scorpius’s hand, gets to his feet, and strides from the room.

There’s a garden somewhere on the ground floor. He knows because he used to go and hide there back when James was in for his Dragon Pox. It’s not the most exciting place in the world, but it’s away from other people and it’s outside. Right now there’s nothing on earth that sounds better than having cool morning air on his face.

He follows the signs through the long, empty hospital corridors until he reaches a curlicued gold metal gate. He nudges it gently open and steps out into the shadowy courtyard.

The sun is up. It rises so early during the summer that he’d be amazed if it wasn’t. The sky is tinged with pale pink and deep blue, and the flowers are slowly starting to open after their night’s sleep. Everything is studded with a haze of dew, and he brushes his fingers through some tall grasses, letting the water drip from his fingertips.

At the far end of the garden, down the winding paths and past the blooming banks of flowers, there’s a bench nestled beneath a rose arch. The bench is damp with dew just like everything else in the garden, but Albus sits on it anyway. A little bit of water is hardly the worst thing he’s had on him today.

Even in the heather grey morning light the rose arch is still a conflagration of bright pinks and yellows and peaches. Albus leans against the back of the bench and stares up at the unfurling petals above him. Maybe when Scorpius is better they can sit out here together. He knows that Scorpius likes roses, or at least he used to, they remind him of his mum.

Albus pulls his knees up to his chest and rests his chin on them, staring out at the garden. Of all the bad days of the last seven years, of all the bad days of his life, this has to be one of the worst. Scorpius in hospital, another fight with his dad... This is the worst of everything. He doesn’t even have anywhere to run to now. The league doesn’t really feel like a sanctuary when he knows that someone in it has just tried to murder his boyfriend.

He buries his face in his hands and draws in a deep lungful of fresh, sharp, sweet-scented morning air. Everything is still. Everything is silent. It’s a new day. A new day should mean a fresh start, a chance to do better. But Albus assumes he’s going to spend it trying to undo the mistakes he’s already made. It’s much harder to be positive about a new start when he’s carrying the weight of so much baggage with him.

It would be easier if he had Scorpius by his side. Scorpius has made all of this so much less painful. He’s smoothed the path for Albus so far. But Scorpius can’t help now, and all Albus can see ahead is an impassably rocky path leading to somewhere hidden from view.

He ruffles a hand through his messy hair. It’s got far too long over the past few days. He’s starting to look like his dad again, which would have felt like a disaster before, but now it’s just a mild inconvenience. At least Scorpius likes him this way. And he can’t help but think that he looks more like himself than he has in a long time. Secretly he doesn’t mind this. Having to remember to keep Sev’s hair short was a nightmare, so it’s almost easier to have it this way – long and unruly.

He rubs his eyes and curls up tighter, yawning, lulled by the comfort of being alone. But just as he’s bowing his head and his eyes are starting to drift properly closed for the first time all night, he heard a voice on the other side of the garden and he jerks awake.

“Albus?” Harry’s voice. “Albus where are you?” He’s not calling loudly – they’re in a square surrounded by rooms, many of which have open windows – but Albus can hear him.

He stays perfectly still, holding his breath, but of course it’s futile hiding from his dad. It’s only worked once in his life, and he had to disguise himself and completely disappear to do it. Disappearance here is not an option, and a second later Harry rounds a bend in the path and spots him.

“Albus, you are out here.”

Albus nods and ducks his head. “I guess I am.”

Harry looks around as he walks up the path. “I forgot how nice this garden is.”

“But you didn’t forget that I like to sit out here,” Albus murmurs.

Harry shakes his head. “No. I didn’t. Some things never change.” He walks up to Albus and gestures to the bench next to him. “Can I sit?”

Albus shuffles right over into the corner of the bench and nods.

“Thanks,” Harry says softly, sitting beside him.

Albus picks at his shoe for a second, then glances at his dad. “Do you remember how I found this place?”

Harry nods. “When James was sick. You’d get bored of sitting with him and want to go exploring. You must have spent hours out here.”

“Better than being in that stuffy room,” Albus murmurs. “Anything was better than that... I really hate hospitals.”

“I don’t think anyone’s a real fan of them,” Harry says.

“No,” Albus agrees, remembering how Draco had looked earlier when they were allowed in to see Scorpius. He’d stood in the doorway surveying the room for a moment before giving a resigned sigh and going over to sit beside Scorpius.

There’s a momentary pause, then Harry takes a breath.

“Albus, I wanted to come and talk to you. About Scorpius.”

Albus looks at him uncertainly. He doesn’t know where this is going. “Okay,” he says.

Harry adjusts the cuffs of his shirt, and shifts closer to Albus on the bench. “Everything you said in Scorpius’s room just now, it’s valid. I admit that. I haven’t exactly done the best job of dealing with everything that’s happened, and I know that Scorpius has suffered because of that. Scorpius is too nice to complain about it himself, but Draco’s always vocal, and you’ve certainly made your opinion heard. So I really just wanted to reassure you that I’m not being complacent anymore.”

“Right...” Albus says, twisting round to look at him, curious about where this is going.

Harry holds up a hand. “I haven’t got far,” he says quickly. “I can do magic but I can’t work miracles. Things have moved so fast that it’s been difficult to keep up, but anyway.” He pushes his glasses up his nose. “I’ve been talking to the Prophet about an interview or something, you know, to set the record straight. Maybe you and me, or just me, talking about everything that happened and you being back. I don’t know if people even really know that you’re back yet. I think making that clear and telling people everything would help. So... so that’s the first thing.” He pauses and looks to Albus for approval, but Albus doesn’t know what to think. He doesn’t know what’s coming next or anything, so he just nods for his dad to go on.

“Second thing,” Harry says, ticking them off on his fingers. “And you don’t have to agree to this one. But I think it would be nice to do something to mark you coming home. But it wouldn’t just be that. It would be a sort of apology too. It would be to thank Scorpius for helping to find you. He’d be the guest of honour, and... well, it’s a work in progress.”

“Is there a third thing?” Albus asks, to put off having to react for a little bit longer.

Harry nods and rubs his hands together. “There is.” Albus can tell that this is the part he’s worked hardest on and is most nervous about. There’s a look in his eyes, and the false confidence of the way he’s holding his hands is hopelessly transparent.

“I’ve been talking to people in my department, and in, um, in other departments too, about where Scorpius might go when he’s recovered. You know, where there might be a job for him... That doesn’t mean I’m firing him,” he adds hurriedly, apparently seeing Albus’s look of horror. “His current job is still there. But I’m looking for a promotion for him. Somewhere with responsibility, where he can learn new things and develop a career. I haven’t talked to many people yet but I’m working on it. I’m hoping that someone in the Department of Mysteries might be interested – that’s where he wanted to be, right?” He trails off, looking anxiously at Albus, but now Albus really is speechless.

He stares at his dad in amazement, open mouthed and struggling to find the words. Finally he swallows and manages to form a full sentence.

“Are you serious?”

Harry nods, looking uncertain. “Yes, I... I’m serious. About all of it. Why? Do you think it’s okay?”

“Of course it’s okay,” Albus says. “I mean you should have done it all years ago, but... Does Scorpius know you’re looking for a new job for him?”

“It’s not just a new job,” Harry says. “I want him to have options – different offers to choose from – but no. I haven’t mentioned it.”

“You should tell Draco at least,” Albus says, uncurling himself. “He’d be pleased. I mean he might snark at you but he would be happy underneath.”

“First I need the offers,” Harry says. “I can’t make people help. It might take a few favours. But that’s why the other things are important. If we can change people’s perceptions then they’ll be easier to persuade, don’t you think?”

“So we do an interview together,” Albus says. “I don’t think Scorpius would like a big party. I mean maybe he would, but I don’t think he ever wants to be the centre of attention. You’d have to ask him. You never know, he might love it.” He gives a little shrug.

“You’ll do the interview then?” Harry asks, expression brightening as the sun climbs higher in the sky above them and the shadows recede from the garden.

Albus considers that for a moment before nodding. “Yes, I think I will. I don’t really think my way of clearing Scorpius’s name worked. Everyone thinks the guy on the steps was delusional. So it needs doing. Properly. And I like the job thing too, but I do think you should tell him. He probably knows exactly where he wants to work; what he wants to study. If you don’t want to ask him maybe I could...”

Harry smiles. “Yeah, alright. We can work together on this.”

Albus nods. “We can... And I’m sorry for shouting at you. Again.”

Harry waves a hand. “It happens. And I think I deserved it. I always deserve it.”

“Most of the time,” Albus agrees, shooting him a tiny grin.

There’s a beat of silence in which Albus twists round on the bench so he can lean against his dad, then Harry turns to look at him.

“Your mum said you’re coming for dinner on Sunday.”

“Is that alright?” Albus asks.

“Of course it is!” Harry says enthusiastically. “Definitely. I was wondering if you might want to come early and help cook. It’d be nice to have an extra competent pair of hands. You’re not racing or anything that day, are you?”

Albus shakes his head. “I’m not, just the night before. I think I could manage to come early.” He nudges his dad gently on the arm. “You can give me an update on your Scorpius Solutions.”

“Is that what we’re calling them?” Harry asks, grinning.

“Unless you can think of a better name,” Albus says. He relaxes against his dad’s side with a sigh. “We just have to hope he gets better so we can use them.”

Harry wraps an arm round his shoulder and gives him a squeeze. “Me too. For you and for Draco.”

“We need him,” Albus murmurs. “I need him. He helps me feel like maybe I can be a proper part of all this again one day. You know, like I can be part of this family, and his, and like I can have a proper life and a future, and...” He swallows and rests his head on his dad’s shoulder. “It’s harder to believe that without him here.”

Harry glances down at him. “It might be harder to believe but it’s still true.” He kisses the top of Albus’s head and hugs him tighter. “And you’re already a part of the family. You never stopped.”

Albus nods and doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t want to tell his dad that he still doesn’t think he deserves to be part of the family, that’ll probably just cause another argument. So instead he sits in silence and tries to let himself dream of belonging.

“Your mum told me about this,” his dad says after a little while, lightly brushing his little finger over the scars on Albus’s left arm. “You could let someone look at them while we’re here.”

Albus pulls his arm away and starts quickly rolling his sleeves down to cover the scars. He buttons his cuffs and sits up. “We should probably go back inside,” he says. “I want to see if anything’s changed.”

Harry nods and gets to his feet. His expression has clouded over a bit, and Albus sits and looks at him for a moment before sighing.

“My arms are okay, Dad. I promise. I can live with them. Maybe one day I’ll let someone have a look at them, but not today.”

“I don’t like seeing you hurt,” Harry says.

Albus gives him a tight little smile. “My arms are the least of my worries. There’s other stuff that hurts me a lot more.” He gets to his feet and brushes the water of himself, then he pauses and looks at his dad again. His expression is still cloudy grey with the threat of rain, and Albus takes a step towards him.

“Dad?” He murmurs. “I promise I’m okay- Or, no I suppose I’m not, but I will be. And it’s not your fault, so...” He hesitates then cautiously holds his hands out, gripping the cuffs of his sleeves, and steps across to hug his dad. Harry also hesitates, but then he wraps an arm round Albus’s back, runs his other hand through Albus’s hair, and holds him.

When they pull apart Albus gives his dad a small shy smile and nudges him on the arm. “Thanks. Do you want to get coffee before we go upstairs?”

Harry runs a hand through his hair and returns the smile. “You still have your coffee obsession, then?”

Albus shrugs and starts walking back down the path between the flowerbeds. “It’s the only way I’m getting through today.”

Albus knows he’s only delaying the inevitable, but he does feel considerably brighter after just the first sip of coffee. They get the drinks to go, eager to get back to the room, and Albus sips his as they walk down the corridor. Not for the first time when they’ve been alone together they don’t talk, but today it doesn’t feel awkward or strained, it just feels like they’re content in each other’s company, and Albus is quite happy with that.

Albus is first to reach the room and he nudges the door quietly open and leads the way inside. He expects everything to be silent and dark but it’s not. A soft golden light is shining through the room and as well as Draco there are a couple of Healers. There’s also Scorpius, who is half sitting up, propped on his pillows, eyes almost open, looking a wreck but definitely awake.

Albus nearly drops his coffee on the floor. He just manages to keep his grip on it and shove it onto a nearby table as he rushes to Scorpius’s side, nudging his way in beside Draco.

“Scorpius,” he gasps. “You’re awake.”

Scorpius blinks groggily at him. “Albus,” he says in a hoarse whisper. “Hi.” He reaches out a hand to Albus, and Albus takes it and clings to it.

“Hi,” Albus whispers back, blinking hard to fight back a rising flood of tears. He squeezes Scorpius’s hand tight and looks up at the Healers in an effort to keep himself from breaking down. “A-am I okay here?” He asks. “Do you need me to move, or...?”

One of the Healers nods at him. “You’re alright for now.”

“Okay,” Albus murmurs. He looks at Draco next. “How long has he been awake?”

“A couple of minutes,” Draco says, patting Scorpius’s blankets into place. “I was wondering if I should come and find you. Scorpius was concerned that you weren’t here.”

Scorpius gives Albus a tiny, weak smile. “I-I thought... Thought you might have disowned me when... when I didn’t come for the date.”

Albus sniffs and shakes his head. “Don’t be stupid. Why would I disown you for that? Anyway, I know you’re never late so I went and got your dad and we found you.”

Scorpius’s eyes flutter closed and he inhales a soft, steady breath. Even though he looks awful he’s clearly much better than he was earlier. “You found me,” he whispers. “I remember that. I-I heard someone coming and I thought it was...” His face screws up. “I thought... I-I don’t know. I thought it was someone bad. But... but it was you. You and Dad. I hoped you’d find me.”

Albus glances at Draco, wanting to acknowledge that Scorpius has recognised their team work, but Draco isn’t looking at him. Instead he’s frowning at Scorpius.

“Do you remember who you thought might be coming back?” Draco asks, smoothing a wrinkle out of Scorpius’s blanket.

Scorpius squeezes his eyes tight shut, face wrinkling as he strains to remember. “I-I should. I know I should. But I... I don’t. Not a face or... or a name, or... I-I don’t even remember what happened.” He opens his eyes and looks at the Healers. “It’s bad that I don’t remember,” he says. “Isn’t it?”

Albus glances at one of the Healers, who’s paused in the midst of casting spells.

“You’ve taken some significant spell damage,” she says. “We still need to work out what those spells were. It’s not completely clear, but it’s not unexpected for you to be having some trouble remembering what happened.” She flashes Scorpius a reassuring smile. “The good thing for now is that you seem to have most of your memories from outside the incident.”

Scorpius nods. “I-I know who I am, and... everything.”

“But if he doesn’t know what happened,” Harry says from the corner of the room where he’s standing, “how are we supposed to know who attacked him?”

“I’m sorry,” Scorpius whispers, looking at Harry. “I can try and remember. Maybe I wasn’t trying hard enough to-“

“No,” Draco says in a fierce voice that makes Albus flinch away from him and Scorpius stare wide-eyed in fear. “No,” Draco says much more softly. “You don’t need to worry about that. You’re alive, you’re awake. Those are the only things I care about. We can deal with who did this later.” He turns and glares over his shoulder at Harry. “Can’t we?”

Harry holds his hands up in apology and surrender, and nods. “We can.”

“Good,” Draco says. He leans across and kisses Scorpius on the forehead. “All you need to do now is rest. Rest and heal. Okay?”

Scorpius closes his eyes and gives the tiniest twitch of his head as a nod. “Okay.” He rolls his head to the side, and for a moment Albus thinks he’s fallen asleep, but then his eyes open a crack and reaches his hand out and brushes a finger down Albus’s cheek. “I need to get better soon. I... I owe you a date.”

Albus smiles and catches hold of Scorpius’s hand so he can kiss it. “It looked like a really nice restaurant,” he says. “It would be beautiful on a summer evening. You can have a glass of wine and sit outside in the garden. We could spend hours out there talking.”

Scorpius settles himself into the pillows and his eyes close again. “What would we talk about?” He asks in a croaky, exhausted voice.

Albus squeezes his hand. “Everything. The past, the future. We could talk about racing, if you want, or you could tell me about history or-or whatever magic you’re reading about at the moment, or...”

Scorpius swallows. “I saw a broom in Diagon Alley,” he says, voice creaking; it sounds painfully dry. “I thought of you. It looked fast. Fast enough for you.”

“You’ll have to take me to see it,” Albus murmurs. “Do you want some water? Your voice sounds-“

“It’s fine,” Scorpius rasps. “I don’t think I’ll be awake much longer anyway.” He gives Albus’s hand a weak squeeze and shifts about. Albus tries to help him get comfortable but doesn’t know if he’s done a good job. Scorpius seems happy enough though, and he nods. “Better... Now will you talk me to sleep?”

“Am I that interesting?” Albus asks, and Scorpius’s lips quirk up at the sides. Albus can tell that he’d be rolling his eyes if they were open.

“Your voice is soothing,” Scorpius says.

“Don’t worry,” Albus says. “I’m not offended. Let me find something really boring to talk about... Hmm. How about potion making in the 1700s?”

“That actually sounds really interesting,” Scorpius murmurs. “Go on.”

So Albus starts talking. He doesn’t remember everything about the subject – they’d studied it just before he’d left Hogwarts – but he always found it fascinating, and a lot of it comes back as he talks.

He can feel Scorpius’s grip on his hand slackening, and Scorpius’s arm becoming a dead weight, and finally Scorpius’s breathing slows and calms, and it’s quite clear that he’s asleep. At that point Albus lets go of his hand and reels back, hit by a sudden wave of emotion. He collapses back from his knees onto his backside and buries his face in his hands as he starts to cry again. Both Draco and his dad rush to his side, but he brushes them away and struggles to his feet, wiping his eyes.

“No... no. I’m fine,” he sniffs. “I’m okay. I-I’m just happy he’s alright, and...” He looks at the Healers. “He is alright, isn’t he?”

The Healer who hasn’t spoken yet stops the spell he’s casting and tucks his wand away. “The wounds are looking much better now,” he says. “There will probably be a little bit of scarring but no real lasting damage. And I’ve just been looking at the spell damage to his brain. As far as I can tell it’s caused by the effects of a couple of different spells, cast multiple times.”

“Which ones?” Draco asks sharply. He’s on his feet too now, and he’s gripping Albus’s shoulder. Albus wishes his dad were closer so he could hold onto someone too.

“The Cruciatus Curse,” the Healer says, and Draco’s grip tightens to the point that it’s uncomfortable, digging hard enough into Albus’s shoulder to bruise. “And it looks like he’s been Obliviated too, twice in quick succession.”

“Does that mean...?” Harry asks, trailing off.

Draco looks round at him. “Does that mean what? Potter, what are you on about?”

Albus looks round too, to see his dad looking fixedly at the Healer and ignoring Draco.

“It means,” the Healer says steadily, “that there’s a very good chance that he’ll never regain his full memory of the attack. He might not even remember any of it. The spells are so close together that even if we managed to reverse one or even both, the memories would be so badly damaged that it might not help. And given that his memory otherwise seems to be excellent, I’d suggest that it wouldn’t be in his best interests to attempt something that’s unlikely to help and might even make things worse.”

“So we’ll never know who did this, then?” Harry asks, gesturing to Scorpius. “He’ll never be able to tell us?”

The Healer waves his hands in an uncertain sort of way. “We can’t say never. Sometimes things come back to people, sometimes these spells don’t do the damage we expect, perhaps he will remember with enough time and rest, but I’d say it’s unlikely. What is likely is that flashes of what happened to him will come back, but we normally find that these flashes are more confusing for patients than helpful. I’m sorry.”

Draco turns to look at Harry, his expression hard. “We’ll have to find out what happened another way then. I’m not putting Scorpius’s memory in any more danger... That book. Scorpius knew it was important but not why. The book has to be the key.”

Harry sighs and scratches his forehead. “We’ve tried to get into the book but it’s blank. It just looks like an unused journal.”

“So did Riddle’s diary,” Draco says. “Am I correct?”

Harry shrugs. “Yes, but-“

“You’re Harry Potter,” Draco says. “Work your magic. If you can’t work it out no one can.”

“And you’re an expert on dark artefacts,” Harry counters. “Maybe we should have a look at it together.”

Draco narrows his eyes, considering. “You might have a point.”

Albus shuffles his feet and looks between the two of them. “If either of you can find out who hurt Scorpius... I’d appreciate it. I-I really need to know who it was.”

If Scorpius can’t remember and they never get any answers, then the dread inside Albus will never go away. He needs to be sure. He needs to know with one hundred percent certainty that he hasn’t spent the past seven years making the most terrible mistake. Because at the moment all he knows is that Scorpius was found injured in Delphi’s room, and that’s not a great start.

Draco nods. “We will find out,” he says. “We’ll find a way. Between the lot of us we have to, right Potter?”

Harry looks at Albus, and Albus looks away from him, afraid that his dad can read his thoughts and suspicions and worries. Delphi is his best friend, he shouldn’t be worried about her being behind all this. But he is. He can’t help himself. If he asked her she might clear up his doubt in a heartbeat, but until he works up the courage for that he’s stuck with doubts that he’d really rather not have.

“Don’t worry, Albus,” Harry says. “We’ll get to the bottom of this somehow, with Scorpius’s memory or without it.”

Albus doesn’t want to leave the hospital but he’s too exhausted not to, and when Draco realises that he’s gradually falling asleep in the chair by Scorpius’s bed, he insists that Albus go home and rest.

Getting home isn’t easy; Albus nearly Splinches himself because he can’t stay focused on where he’s going for long enough. But eventually he arrives in one piece at his own front door, and when he gets inside he collapses onto his sofa and falls fast asleep right there.

It’s dark outside when he wakes up, and there’s a light summer rain pattering on the window panes. His neck aches, and he sits up, rubbing it and grimacing with discomfort. Hunger gnaws at his stomach, and he goes and heats up some soup, which he guzzles down in one go, accompanied by some bread. With his hunger abated, he goes and sits in his bedroom window, staring out at the city below and the rolling hills in the distance. It’s there that everything comes flooding back.

Scorpius’s memory is damaged so he might never know who attacked him. They found him in Delphi’s room though, a room that Albus guesses only she has access to; if he didn’t know that was where she was staying then he doubts anyone else did either. At the race the other day Scorpius thought Delphi was following him. Someone from the league has been trying to hurt him ever since Albus found him again.

And then there’s the rest of the picture: Delphi’s Death Eater friends, Delphi’s secrets, Delphi’s plans. It all comes together to form a tapestry that points to the one thing Albus can’t contemplate – that the woman who’s been his best friend for years, who he’s given his love and trust to, is not the person he thought she was, and that Albus has made the worst mistake of his life.

There’s only one thing to do with a night like this, and with feelings like this. He shoves the window open, grabs the nearest broomstick, and flies out into the darkness.

A light breeze brushes down the city streets and ruffles the dry grass of the moors beyond. The rain is getting heavier by the moment, drenching Albus and hammering down on the parched earth, kicking up dust. The evening is still warm, but the breeze and rain are cooling it down, and thunder rumbles ominously in the distance.

It doesn’t take Albus long to fly to the gorge. Beneath him the ground becomes rockier, the hills swelling, and through the rain and darkness he can see the long scar carving across the landscape. He sweeps down and lands at the top of the cliffs, hopping off onto the grass and staring into the ravine.

It’s bigger than he remembers. The rocks are more jagged, and the gouge in the ground runs far deeper. The road twists in sharper, more extreme bends. After a year away it looks intimidating, and as he follows the zig zags of the road away into the distance, he can’t help but wonder how he ever flew down here. It seems catastrophically stupid. He’s afraid, and with a jolt he realises that he doesn’t want to do this.

Maybe he’s got cautious in his time away. Maybe he’s forgotten how to be brave. He shouldn’t be scared of this. There’s not even any Fiendfyre involved. It’s a gorge that he’s flown down thousands of times before. And yet...

He sits down in the wet grass, setting his broom next to him. His hair is plastered flat to his head, water dripping in his eyes. He wipes it away and stares down at the knees of his sodden trousers, trying to work out why he feels like this.

Every time he’s come here before he’s been able to just get on his broom and fly. On a miserable, rainy night when he’s feeling down, this sort of flying is what he needs. It feels good to stop caring, to let go of everything and hurl himself down the rocky path with reckless abandon, fuck the consequences. But tonight, even though he feels awful, the thought of doing that makes him feel worse.

He hugs his knees and stares blankly out across the rainwashed hills. The image of Scorpius, curled up in his hospital bed, too exhausted to keep his eyes open, flickers through Albus’s mind. He’d promised Scorpius he wouldn’t disappear again. He’d promised Scorpius that he wouldn’t leave. He can’t go back on that now, not after everything, and if he did go careening down here and lose control that would be the worst sort of abandonment. There’s no coming back from death.

In a flash it comes to him. He has something to live for now. He has people who he knows care about him, not just Scorpius but his mum and dad, his siblings, maybe even Draco. He cares about them in return too. That’s the difference. That’s what’s changed. It’s not that he’s become afraid, it’s that he’s found the thing he’s been missing all along, the thing to tie him down and make him cautious. He’s found something to lose.

Every other time he’s been here he’s felt entirely alone and abandoned. It wouldn’t have made a difference to him or anyone else if he’d died. But now it does. He doesn’t want to leave Scorpius like that; he can’t imagine what it would do to his mum and dad to have him back and then lose him again. As much as he’s having a bad night and just wants to forget the world and fly in a mad rush of adrenaline, he can’t forget everything. He can’t forget his family.

He curls up smaller, bowing his head as the realisation hits. This means that he matters. This means that he’s not alone. This means that his life means more than just his ability to fly faster and harder than anyone else. There’s actually a point to him being here. He doesn’t really know what that point is, but it would make a difference to at least a few people if he weren’t here, and it’s been a long time since he could say that.

None of this helps with his Delphi problem, of course. It doesn’t make it better, it doesn’t help him forget it, in fact it makes it worse. It makes everything so much worse. He abandoned everyone who cares about him for her. He wasted seven years of his life being lonely and lost for her. And now he discovers that she might not be everything he thought she was, that he might have misjudged.

Speculation is pointless, he knows that. He should talk to her or wait for his dad and Draco to examine Scorpius’s book. But he can’t help but hold that slither of doubt in his mind. It’s impossible to chase away now it’s there, sown like a seed, slowly putting down roots and beginning to grow. There’s enough there to leave him feeling foolish and betrayed. If he’d made better choices from the start then maybe he would never have flown recklessly down this gorge. Maybe he would never have put himself in danger. Maybe he’d have always had something to lose.

He flops his legs out into the grass in front of him and rolls his broom towards him. Now the rain has soaked him to the skin he’s freezing cold and starting to shiver. His nose is beginning to run, and he wipes it, swiping away the water. It’s late and the light breeze is whipping up into something stronger. He needs to go home, he needs to rest, and tomorrow he needs to go and see Scorpius again. Those are his priorities now, not races or suicidal flights down the gorge or anything else. It’s all about Scorpius.

The broom rises off the ground beneath his hand, like it’s ready to go home. He doesn’t bother to argue with it. He gets to his feet and throws one last look at the snaking line of the gorge, then he mounts his broom, kicks off the ground, and starts flying back towards Bristol.

The next morning, Albus wakes up drenched in sunlight but still soggy from his exploits in the rain. He rolls out of bed with a groan and starts peeling off his damp clothes, then he drags himself to the bathroom to shower. When he gets there he dumps his fresh clothes on the ground and stares at himself in the mirror.

Albus’s face – green eyes, messy black hair, his dad’s sharp nose – stares back. Beneath is the body he’s spent seven years working on, all compact strength. It’s marred only by the scars, which today are a calm, pale pink, and the long black spirals of the tattoos. There’s his ear too, which this morning just has a simple silver stud sparkling from the lobe.

He runs a hand through his hair and twists from side to side, trying to decide who he looks more like this morning, Albus or Sev. As he does he spots the black mark on his shoulder, and he strains his body so he can see it properly. Delphi’s wings are stark against his skin, and he trails a finger over the tattoo, his heart sinking. As long as he has that he’s tied to her, or at least his past is. As long as he has that he can’t escape Sev, no matter who he wants to be.

He lies his palm flat over the black wings, hiding them from view, and looks at himself again. Albus stares back, Albus with the scars and physique of a broom racer, Albus with Sev’s history and an uncertain future. He closes his eyes so he can’t see himself anymore and turns away to get into the shower.

It’s a cool day, thanks to the rain, so Albus arrives at the hospital wearing his favourite green hoodie and jeans. He nudges the door to Scorpius’s room open with his hip and discovers that Scorpius is alone in there, and that he’s awake.

“You look like you’re fourteen again,” Scorpius says, shooting him a grin that sparkles with mischief.

“Someone’s feeling better,” Albus replies, going over and holding his arms out for a hug, not entirely sure if hugging is allowed.

Scorpius shuffles into a better position and pats Albus carefully on the back, then kisses him for good measure. Albus brushes his fingers through Scorpius’s hair and smiles at him.

“It’s nice to see you awake.”

“They promised me food,” Scorpius says. “And Dad’s gone to get tea. He might get you a coffee if you run after him. He only left a minute ago.”

Albus shakes his head and flops into the chair by Scorpius’s bed. “No, I’m not in the mood for running today. I had a late night last night.”

“Doing what?” Scorpius asks, curling up on his side so he can look at Albus.

“I flew to the top of a gorge and sat in the rain,” Albus says.

Scorpius narrows his eyes at him. “Why?”

“I was going to fly down it,” Albus says. “But when I got there I realised that would be stupid, and that you and Mum and Dad would probably miss me if I ended up smashed into small squishy pieces on the rocks.”

Scorpius blinks several times. “Right,” he says slowly. “That wasn’t the answer I was expecting...” He reaches out and puts a hand on Albus’s arm. “Are you okay, Albus?”

Albus looks at him and nods. “Yes, I am. I promise. It just wasn’t a great night. But I... I realised that there’s a point to me being here now. I don’t know what it is, but... there is one.”

Scorpius frowns. “Of course there’s a point to you being here, Albus. And yes. We would miss you. We missed you when you left last time.” He squeezes Albus’s arm, and brushes his thumb against Albus’s skin. “How long have you been thinking that there was no point to you?”

Albus looks down and tracks the progress of Scorpius’s thumb, giving a small shrug. “I don’t know,” he murmurs. “A while.” He looks up. “But it’s not a problem anymore. I promise. I told you I wouldn’t leave you again and I won’t.”

“Good,” Scorpius says softly. “Because I would miss you.”

Albus nods. “I’d miss you too.” He bows his head and lets silence stretch out between them for a moment, then he looks up at Scorpius. “I used to fly down that gorge a lot. It was sort of a training thing, I suppose. But I liked the adrenaline rush, and I liked not thinking or caring. I didn’t expect that anything would have changed. But then when I got there... I couldn’t make myself do it. I couldn’t fly down there, just in case something happened. And I think I realised how everyone I race against feels.”

He picks at the edge of Scorpius’s blanket, staring down at the woven strands of wool. “Everyone else always had something tying them down, something to lose if they pushed too hard or lost control or whatever. But I never did. Not until last night... And I think I like it. If I had to pick anyone or anything to tie me down, it would definitely be you.” He looks up at Scorpius. “I know I ran away, but... I never wanted to be lost. I never wanted to not fit. And now I have you and I don’t think I am anymore. Not like I was, anyway.”

“Being lost doesn’t feel good,” Scorpius murmurs. “I, um. I don’t remember much about what happened to me the other day, but I remember that. I remember lying there and knowing that no one could see me or hear me, that I couldn’t move, and that everything hurt. I remember thinking that surely no one would ever find me. I-I did feel lost. I mean I hoped that you and Dad would somehow find me, but... I wasn’t sure.” He looks at Albus and his eyes are sad and dull, some of the spark gone from them. “I’m sorry you had to feel like that. I’m sorry I couldn’t help.”

Albus shakes his head. “No, you did. You...” He sighs. “I don’t think I realised that you were what I needed. I was so busy trying to find where I belonged that I didn’t realise I... I sort of already did.”

“You shouldn’t regret it,” Scorpius says softly. “Running away. Don’t do that. It happened, and it changed you, in a lot of ways for the better I think. If you hadn’t done it you wouldn’t be you.”

“But what about-“

“Me?” Scorpius asks. He shrugs. “I wouldn’t be who I am either.”

“But-“

Scorpius looks him dead in the eye. “I’m serious. Please don’t regret it. It’ll...” He licks his dry lips and smooths a hand over his blankets. “It’ll make everything harder.”

“Fine,” Albus murmurs, bowing his head. “I’ll try.”

“Thank you,” Scorpius says. He shifts on the bed, struggling to sit up more, and Albus tries to help prop the pillows up to support him. “When’s my dad going to be back?” He asks. “I really want that tea...”

“I can go and look for him if you want,” Albus offers, already half on his feet, but Scorpius shakes his head.

“No, this place is a maze and he likes to wander. You’ll never find him.”

“Alright,” Albus says, settling back down.

There’s a stretch of silence after that, then Scorpius glances at Albus, his expression guarded in a way that makes Albus nervous about what he’s about to say.

“Go on,” Albus prompts. “What is it?”

Scorpius licks his lips again, then draws in a breath. “I... I have actually started to remember a few things about what happened, you know.”

Albus blinks at him. “You have?”

Scorpius nods. “I have. Not much, but little flashes...”

Albus shuffles his chair closer to Scorpius’s bed and nods eagerly. “Go on.”

Scorpius twists his hands together. “I remember talking to a barman downstairs. I think he was flirting with me, and he gave me a drink, he called it a Love Potion. Then it gets a bit blurry... but I know I went upstairs and got into a room, and I found the book...” He looks up at Albus. “You got the book, didn’t you?”

Albus nods. “Dad and Draco are looking at it.”

Scorpius exhales. “Good. That’s good. Anyway, I read it, and I found something, I don’t even know what I found but I know it was important. And then everything goes blank... Someone came, and next thing I remember is lying on the floor knowing I needed help because everything hurt. And then you and Dad were there...”

“Is that everything you remember?” Albus asks. “You definitely don’t remember who came to the room?”

Scorpius shakes his head, screwing his face up as he strains to remember. “I definitely don’t. No.”

“Alright,” Albus say thoughtfully. “What about the barman? What about the drink? Do you know what was in it?”

“Pearl Dust,” Scorpius says confidently. “I remember Pearl Dust, and...” He trails off, rubbing his forehead. “Just Pearl Dust. Then nothing but the stairs and... and the room.” He lifts his head and looks at Albus. “What if there was something in the drink? I remember asking the barman about that, but I don’t remember what he said, and... What if that had something to do with it?”

Albus shrugs. “You never know. Maybe we should tell the Healers just in case.” His heart races with hope. “Maybe we should tell my dad too.”

Scorpius digs the heels of his hands into his forehead and scrunches his face up. “I can’t remember... The person who was in the room... Not their voice, o-or their face, or-“ He hisses and bows his head. “Come on,” he mutters, “I need to remember. I-I need to-“

“Scorpius,” Albus says gently, rubbing a hand down his arm, “don’t hurt yourself. Please. I know you want to remember, but...”

Scorpius shakes his head. “I know it’s in there. I know I-“ His expression shifts like a thought has just struck him, and for a second Albus thinks he’s remembered something, but then he lifts his head and looks at Albus. “Where’s my wand?”

Albus hesitates. “Why do you want that?”

“Where is it?” Scorpius repeats. “I want it.” He sits up, wrapping an arm across his stomach and wincing as he twists around. He pats the bedside table, hand fumbling over the top, but he can’t quite reach the second shelf down, and that’s where Albus knows his wand is hiding.

“Scorpius,” he says, going round the bed. “I don’t know if you should-“

“Got it,” Scorpius says, lifting his hand to show the curved, scarred wood of his wand. “I want to remember, Albus. I need to. So I’m going to.” He turns his wand and presses the tip to his temple.

“This is a really really bad idea,” Albus says, standing at the foot of the bed, not sure what to do. He can’t dive across and grab Scorpius’s wand, Scorpius is injured, and he doesn’t want to have to fight him. “When you were unconscious the Healers said it wasn’t worth the risk. You were Obliviated twice, Scorpius. Even if you can undo one the other would still be there. It’s impossible.”

Scorpius gives him a fierce look. “Don’t you want to know who did it?”

“Of course,” Albus says, “but not if it’s going to risk your health.”

Scorpius’s expression hardens into a glare. “I’ve been torn apart, my head hurts, my memory’s gone. There’s not much health to risk.”

“You know who you are though,” Albus says. “You know about me and your dad. The only thing you don’t remember is-“

“The most important thing.” Scorpius adjusts his grip on the handle of his wand and draws in a deep breath that Albus recognises as him preparing to cast a spell. Albus has only a split-second to react, and he does it without thinking.

“Expelliarmus,” he cries, pointing his wand straight at Scorpius.

Scorpius’s wand flies straight up out of his hand, ricochets off the ceiling, and Albus manages to snatch it out of the air.

“What are you doing?” Scorpius asks, voice high-pitched and more than a little bit hysterical.

“Stopping you from hurting yourself,” Albus replies, trying to keep his tone calm but finding it impossible. He can’t control himself. Everything has to turn into an argument, but he’s never argued with Scorpius before.

Scorpius screws his face up in pain as he leans forward away from his pillows and starts trying to swing his feet round onto the floor. “I want to remember,” he says through gritted teeth. “Give me my wand back. It’s mine.”

“I can’t,” Albus says, backing away. “Get back into bed or I’ll have to call someone for help.”

“It’s my mind,” Scorpius says. He gets his feet onto the floor and closes his hand around the metal bedhead. “My mind, my memories, my wand. I want them back.”

“I know you do, but... but you can’t.” Albus holds Scorpius’s wand behind his back and his own out in front of him. “Please don’t get up, you’ll hurt yourself. I’m supposed to be the stupid one, Scorpius. This isn’t sensible.”

“I don’t want to be sensible,” Scorpius says, clawing his way upright. “I want to know who hurt me, I-“ He pauses, swaying on his feet as his knees nearly give way beneath him. “I want to remember.” With a final effort he pushes himself forward away from the bed, still hunched over and holding his stomach, still swaying, almost on the verge of falling.

Albus can’t stand there and watch. He pockets both the wands and rushes over to Scorpius, holding him by the arm, and not a moment too soon. Scorpius’s legs give out, and he crumples. Albus just about manages to support him as he goes down, stopping him from hurting himself, and crouches on the ground next to him, still holding onto him.

“Why did you try and get up?” He asks. “Scorpius...”

“I want to know what happened,” he says, making a futile snatch at the wands in Albus’s pocket. “I... I hate not remembering. I hate it.”

“I know,” Albus says. “I know, but this isn’t the way.” He catches hold of Scorpius’s hand and holds it tight, and thankfully Scorpius stops fighting and grips Albus’s hand in return.

“When you found me,” he murmurs, looking at Albus. “When you found me I-I’d been there for hours. I couldn’t move, I couldn’t talk, everything hurt. I didn’t know why I was there or what was wrong. I-I just knew that there was pain and blood, and that I’d...” He sucks in a breath and shifts around like he’s trying to get comfortable. Albus wraps an arm round his back so he doesn’t have to support himself.

“Confused,” Scorpius goes on. “Lost. Hurt. Humiliated. I don’t understand what happened or why. I just want an answer.”

Albus hugs him and kisses his cheek. He nods and rests his head gently against Scorpius’s. “Me too,” he whispers. “Even if the answer scares me I still want to know. I want to know who I can trust.”

“Won’t you let me even try?” Scorpius asks, gesturing to the wands. “We both want this. We can get our answer.”

Albus shakes his head. “I can’t, Scorpius.”

Scorpius deflates. “It’s right here,” he says, tapping himself on the head. “I know it’s in here somewhere. I want to find it. It’s so frustrating.” He clenches his fingers in his hair and gives a small growl, then he flops his forehead onto Albus’s shoulder and dissolves into tears while Albus holds him.

They’re still there a couple of minutes later when the door opens and Draco comes in.

“I brought the tea- What are you two doing on the floor?”

“We were just getting up,” Albus says, gently looping his arm under Scorpius’s arms. “Come on, lean on me sweetheart.” Scorpius lets Albus help him up off the floor, and together they manage to get Scorpius sitting back in bed.

“And how did Scorpius end up down there?” Draco asks, eyes burning into Albus.

Albus opens his mouth to answer, not really knowing what to say. He doesn’t want to incriminate Scorpius, but he also doesn’t particularly want to lie to Draco. In the end he pulls Scorpius’s wand from his pocket and presents it to Draco.

“This needs looking after,” he says.

“Looking after?” Draco takes the wand, frowning down at it, then he glances at Scorpius. “What does that mean?”

“You should try it,” Scorpius mutters. “Not remembering. It’s awful.”

Draco stares at him. “Did you-“

“He wanted to try and get his memories back,” Albus says. “He was going to...” He waves a hand vaguely around his head. “So I Disarmed him.”

“Scorpius,” Draco murmurs.

Scorpius wipes his nose on the back of his hand. “Can I have my tea?”

“I think we should talk about-“

“Can someone please give me something I want?” Scorpius’s voice rings through the room, and Albus recognises the misery and anger in it. He’s felt that way himself too many times to count.

“Here,” Draco says softly, handing the cup across to him. “Be careful, it’s hot.”

“It’s tea,” Scorpius says sulkily. “It’s meant to be hot.”

Draco clenches his fists and folds his arms, but he doesn’t say anything to Scorpius. Instead he turns and looks at Albus.

“Do you mind waiting outside for a second?”

Albus shrugs. It’s almost a relief to be asked to leave. For the first time in his life he’s grateful to have an excuse to no longer be in Scorpius’s company. He turns towards the door, and as he does he can see Scorpius watching him out of the corner of his eye, but he doesn’t look round to catch Scorpius’s gaze. Instead he slips outside and closes the door behind him, then he rests his back against it and slump down onto the ground, burying his face in his hands.

Scorpius in this state isn’t something that he likes. He’s so used to Scorpius being calm and compliant, taking everything life throws at him and dealing with it without complaint. But now Scorpius is finally fighting back and it’s ugly and difficult, and it makes sense, of course it does, for Scorpius to be angry. He deserves to be angry after everything that’s happened. But that doesn’t make it any nicer to deal with.

He gets to his feet, rubbing his arm where Scorpius had accidentally scratched him while lunging for his wand. It stings a bit, but Albus has had worse so it hardly bothers him.

He turns on the spot in the middle of the empty corridor and sighs. He doesn’t know what to do now or what to think. He doesn’t know what’s his fault and what’s not. He doesn’t know if he was meant to do anything different to help Scorpius. If it had been him he’d have fought harder to get his wand back and been quicker to use it. Should he have just let Scorpius get on and do what he wanted to do? What if Scorpius is upset with him now?

He runs his hands through his hair and starts pacing up and down the corridor until he hears the door to Scorpius’s room creak open behind him. He spins round to see Draco standing there, mouth a thin, irritated line that Albus is afraid is directed at him.

“He says he’s going to sleep,” Draco says.

Albus folds an arm across his chest and picks at the sleeve of his hoodie. “Okay.”

“He’s had a difficult couple of days,” Draco says. “I’m amazed he’s lasted this long without...” He gestures with one hand and shakes his head. “He gets his self restraint from his mother.”

“Is he mad at me?” Albus asks. “I would be mad at me. But I thought I was doing the right thing...”

Draco sighs. “Sometimes I don’t think there’s a right thing to do, Albus.”

“So you think I should have-“

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” Draco interrupts, and when Albus looks at him he doesn’t think he looks angry or upset. He just looks tired.

“So even if Scorpius is mad at me... you’re not?”

“Not today,” Draco confirms. “Personally I’m quite glad you didn’t let him obliterate all his memories by accident or whatever it was he was going to end up doing. That would have left him in an even worse mood than he’s in now.”

“He wouldn’t have been very happy,” Albus agrees. “I just remembered what the Healers said, and...” He puts his hands in his pockets and hunches his shoulders. “Isn’t there anything they can do to make it better? They could at least try, right?”

“They could,” Draco says. “We talked about it... Scorpius thinks it would be worth it.”

Albus nods, then he glances at Draco. “I’m going to talk to Delphi,” he says. ��She might not tell me the truth, but... I-I want to talk to her.”

Draco’s expression turns very serious. “Be careful,” he says softly.

“She’s my best friend. I think it would be-“

“She may be your best friend but that doesn’t mean... Perhaps it would be wise to talk to your dad first.”

“I don’t need protection,” Albus says. “I’ve been around her for seven years and I’ve been safe. Whoever hurt Scorpius left him alive, and I’m much more likely to be safe than him.” He draws in a breath. “Even if she is, you know, not who I thought... I know she has plans. Maybe... Maybe she needs me. Maybe Harry Potter’s son is more valuable alive than dead.”

“I don’t think that’s an asset you should have to count on,” Draco says darkly.

“I’m also her star broom racer,” Albus replies with a shrug. “It all has to count for something. Honestly, I think – I hope – I’ll be okay.”

“Be careful,” Draco repeats, carefully stressing each word. “Scorpius wants you back in one piece. He may be annoyed at you now but he won’t be by the time he wakes up. I can guarantee that.”

“I’ll take care of myself,” Albus promises.

Draco gives a curt nod. “Good. Will I see you tomorrow?”

“I have a race tomorrow, and dinner with parents on Sunday. But I-I’ll try and come by. Maybe in the morning. Definitely in the morning.”

“Very well,” Draco says.

Albus turns to walk away but pauses and glances back. “Tell Scorpius I love him.”

Draco gives a very small, tired smile. “Of course.”

#Harry Potter and the Cursed Child #Cursed Child #Cursed Child fic #Scorbus fic #Scorbus #Albus Severus Potter #Scorpius Malfoy #Draco Malfoy #Harry Potter #HPCC fic #Keep The Secrets #My writing #Mine to Make #Mayhem to the nth degree #Malfoy family feels

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prettieparker86 · 6 years ago

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In The Bleak Midwinter || Part 13

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6 Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11 & Part 12

Announcement Please See Note Below...

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Reader

Warning: Adult situations, flashbacks, mentions trauma, talk of abortion, Violence

Gif Credit: @thomasshelbyltd @cillianmurphydaily @peakyblindersdaily @sikanapanele Thank you for letting me use your beautiful gifs!

Tag: @lainey-lane, @pindlemouse, @ thelastemzy, @helloandreabeth, @fandoms-broke-my-life, @shelbysbushblog, @accio-witty-username, @iamtheonewhocares, @infinitelycharmed23, @kingsmanstories, @shelby-gin-limited, @taylxr0, @sympathyfortheblinderdevil, @neversleeping4am, @icebluegriffin @johhnshelby, @ subhamamu @ unicorn-glitter-princess @thatsamegirl, @mafaldaz, @cafe-sabor-a-chocolate, @collegecatlady, @20th-centu-fairy-girl, @xlightning-disasterx @niiight-dreamerrrr @i-shouldbepainting @dermittts @stylesbooze

Authors Note: I really don’t like this chapter, but I give up. I’m washing my hands of it. It’s given me nothing but grief. I had high hopes for it and frankly, I think it’s cabbage. So Sorry ahead of time.

Also, when Polly mentions things being in their blood because they’re gypsies, and having some deep insight/foresight/psychic intuition. I am going purely off the character established in season four. This is in no way a reflection of actual romani cultures. And I mean absolutely no disrespect in anyway.

Announcement:

So, I wasn’t going to say anything. I was just to switch it out and call it a day, but then I worried it might be confusing if people noticed. So I’m just gonna own it... I hated the Tommy and Fiona scene, so I changed it. I didn’t want to leave up something I didn’t love. So what that means is there will be two versions of this chapter floating around, because it’s already been reblogged (Thank you for that! You guys are the best!). So just be aware of that. If you happen to notice it, you’re not crazy, I’m owning what I did. You can decide which version of the chapter you like best. Thank you!

You can’t sleep. Your demons won’t let you rest. The threat of your impossible future haunts you into all hours of the night. Long after everyone else has succumb to sleep. You toss and turn, staring up at the ceiling, an itchy nagging feeling just under your skin until you finally give up and get out of bed. You’re running yourself a glass of water, trying not to wake the rest of the house, when you hear a noise come up from behind you in the kitchen – a creak of a board, a shuffle of movement.

Spinning around quick, you hadn’t expected company in the dead of night like this, but you can’t say you’re surprised to find it’s Polly standing there, candle steady in her hand. Looking gorgeous as ever in her short curls and flowing nightdress against the dancing flame of the candle. You smile at her, the sight a pleasant surprise. A comforting one against the anxiousness the grips you tight tonight.

“Can’t sleep?” She asks, like a mother would to a child. Caring for you and after you in a way you haven’t experienced since you lived with your aunt Brona right after the birth of Finn.

You shake your head no, in response, placing your glass down on the counter, a forgotten thought before you’ve barely had a sip.

But Polly doesn’t mince words or opportunities as she places down the candle on the butcher’s block beside the stove and moves toward you as if she can see the anxiousness churning inside you.

“A’right then, so you’re up the duff?” She inquires without hesitation, without judgment, and the lack of reprisal on her breath and in her eyes settles some of the shame you’ve been flogging yourself with for days now.

“I believe so.” You answer quietly, eyes scanning around to ensure no one is in ear shot, but the house is quiet as a church, not even a board squeaks.

“When was your last flow?” She inquiries bluntly, getting straight to the point. Her big dark eyes holding you in the shadows that surround you both. She speaks with ease, but still her words threaten to swallow you alive with the magnitude of the answer as you muster the courage to speak.

“I don’t know.” You whisper as your face falls from hers, feeling foolish.

You know it’s the sort of thing you should know without doubt, especially since you crawled into Tommy’s bed and never came out. A line you swore you’d never cross again after all the heartache and struggles you’ve endured to bring Finn into this world and then keep him alive.

Even with the factory laborer, you had been careful, diligent, to do everything in your power to ensure you didn’t become pregnant. But with Tommy everything seemed so different. You were feeling things you never thought you would feel again. You thought with the tea… You see now you thought wrong.

“With John, an’ the Italians, there’s been so much... One, maybe two months. I can’t- I can’t be certain.” You admit on a shaken whisper, running a frustrated hand down your face, angry with yourself as you try to retrace it in your mind. Ever since coming to Small Heath the days have blended. Living under constant fear of death and grief, and then after Al… it’s been hard to get a good sense of time. But you know full well this is something you should have been diligently monitoring, you feel like a complete failure.

How could you have been so foolish! One child out of wedlock is an unforgivable sin, but two and by different fathers, you feel a panic coming on just trying to imagine the kind of shame that would accompany that fate. What kind of woman that makes your morally. What kind of mother that makes you, to put Finn’s already fragile joy into jeopardy.

“Could it be iron. Have you tried tablets?” She asks, you see her running down the list of possibilities in her mind before jumping to any conclusions.

You shake your head sadly. “But it’s not just my flow… I’ve been sick lately, light headed sometimes, an’ my breasts are tender... I know what this is Pol.” You tell her, the words starting to choke you up as your throat tightens with an all too familiar fear.

Heart pounding in your chest as you finally say the words aloud. Making them real and utterly terrifying in a way that plaguing your mind never could. You swore to yourself you’d never experience this again, never find yourself here, and yet, here you are.

“The tea didn’ work. I jus-“ Tears edge at your eyes as your voice wavers. You such in a sharp breath and pull yourself together, holding your belly tight as you force yourself to breath slowly.

“I was hopin’ you might know a woman who can help me.” Those words break your heart. You hate to say them. It’s never something you wanted. Never something you imagined doing. But you can’t do this to Finn. Destroy his world with your carelessness. And you can’t have that monster’s baby and you have no way knowing who the father is. A fact that makes your heart feel sick and leaves you shuttering harder with shame.

“The tea works. Did you forget to take?” Polly is certain, there’s no doubt in her eyes, but there is a peculiar intrigue that seems to light up in her gaze. You wish you could hold on to that same kind of certainty, but this is your body and you can feel what’s happening to it. It’s changing. There’s something inside it and no amount of debate about tea will change that.

Polly steps close to you, her hands unceremoniously reaching for your belly, pushing and palming against your stomach as your secret barely takes shape in her hand.

“No, never.” You finally answer her with a shake of your head, letting her carry out her inspection without a fuss. You swear it, you never forgot. Not once. Not something that important. Your attempts to monitor the situation may have been halfhearted at best, but your attempts to prevent it were steadfast.

Polly suddenly grabs at your breast, brief and quick as you jump a little, startled under her unexpected touch. You watch her eyes narrow with understanding as a quick huff leaves her chest before she quickly steps back.

Polly nods slowly looking you square in the eye to acknowledge the seriousness of your request. “I know a woman, but I warn you this one won’t go easy.” She smiles weakly at you.

You stare into her eyes, fear and confusion coiling and stirring about in your gut as your chest tightens with apprehension. “Why do you say that?” Almost afraid to ask.

She cups your cheeks gently in her weathered hands as she looks you square in the eye.

“Because this baby held on through that bloody match you had with the Italian and Shelby’s never go without a fight.”

Her words hit you like a shockwave, like the floor being ripped out from under you. Tears spring to your eyes with the implication. Your chest suffocating as it pulls in around your heart. “How do you know that? How can you be certain?”

Polly looks you square in the eye, the light of the candle’s flame dancing in her deep whiskey orbs.

“In that noose I died and now it’s as if a window has opened up and things reveal themselves to me... I feel the gypsy blood running through that baby’s veins and I’d guess you’re nearly three months gone.” She tells you without an ounce of doubt of her breath.

Her revelation leaves a rattled breath ripping your lips as tears of relief roll heavy down your cheeks, unable to hold them inside you any longer. You’re taken aback by her words. You don’t know if you believe in spirits and windows, but you can’t deny the unwavering certainty in Polly eyes, and you trust her. You know she would never deceive you over something like this. Never hurt you in such a way.

Her thumb wipes tenderly at your tears. “You thought it was the Italian’s.” Polly states, already seeing the answer in your eyes.

“I was scared. I didn’t know.” You admit on a shaken breath.

“That’s a Shelby growing inside there. And unless you’ve been with Arthur or Finn, it’s Tommy’s.” She tells you, cracking a smile at her joke. Knowing the relief that news must bring to you, but then a seriousness takes hold in her eyes. Polly cups your cheeks more firmly with it, looking you dead in the eye as she speaks.

“This family’s cursed, Tommy most of all. You should know that before you make your decision. Life would never be easy with him, but it’s a girl and she’s strong like her mum.”

Polly’s words send tears spilling from your eyes all over again. A little girl. Tommy’s girl. Your chest rattles as you suck a deep breath in. Your hand settling low on your stomach as you run your thumb gently over the spot, letting yourself feel connected to this baby for the first time. Instead of solely fearing the weight of it.

You know Tommy is more tortured than most. Some days half alive, but mostly dead. But you love him, and you love the little family you’ve built together with the boys. And you know there’s no guarantee Tommy will even want this baby. With so many enemy clawing at his back. After losing Grace. You don’t have the luxury of living in dreams, but knowing the baby is Tommy’s changes everything.

Releasing your face, Polly covers your hand with her own over your belly in a show support. “I’ll give you an address for a midwife tomorrow. She can confirm how gone you are without Tommy finding out… Think it over. You know where to find me if you still need my help.” She whispers softly, before placing a tender kiss upon your forehead. Slipping from you side, she leaves you alone with your thoughts as another round of tears rolls slowly off your eyes.

As you climb back into bed with Tommy, your mind is still a flurry of energy. Counting the days, retracing the steps of how you got here - as Charlie’s nanny, then Tommy’s friend before you became his bed fellow, and now… Now you love him. Deeply. Madly. And though he’s never said it, you’re quite certain he loves you too. And now his baby is growing inside you, or at least Polly seems quite certain of it. The thought washes over you with uncertainty and excitement as you feel Tommy roll onto his side, reaching for you, wrapping his hand around your waist as he drags you against him in the bed.

“Where’d ya go?” You hear him quietly grumble against the back of your neck. His breath warm and thick with gravel from sleep.

“I was thirsty.” You explain as you feel Tommy pull you deep into the curve of his body, warm, solid, and safe. You focus on the feel of his breath moving evenly against the back of your neck as his arm winds around your waist, resting just above where his baby grows inside you, as he presses against you. You wrap your arm around his at your waist as your heart aches from the distance that still lingers between you.

You miss him like a hole in your heart nothing else can fill. You haven’t attempted any real intimacy since the night neither of your dare speak of. It’s been over a month, and the reasons for that are just. You were healing, you weren’t ready to be intimate with someone yet and Tommy respected that. But lying here, having just heard Polly’s belief the baby inside you is Tommy’s, you realize you can’t go on like this. You need him. You miss him. You’re ready.

You rock gently against him, listening as Tommy groans quietly against your hair, but nothing more comes of it. It’s been so long and you know him so well, surely, he just assumes you’re readjusting in bed… Until you keep at it. Quietly relieved when you feel him come to life against. Taking solace in knowing some part of him still wants you. Even if it’s just the raw undiluted part of his manhood that can’t be quieted any more than it can be tamed.

“Fiona,” Tommy whispers to you. A hint of uncertainty as his breath flutters the hair tucked behind your ear. His voice so deep and gritty it makes your belly tighten with need and your hips press a little harder against him with the sound of it.

“Tommy,” You whisper back as a hunger you haven’t felt properly in far too long begins to reignite inside you. Your skin craves the feel of his touch, and knowing Tommy’s going to need a little assurance this is what you want - that you’re ready - you reach for his hand at your waist and slip it underneath your nightdress. Feeling shivers ripple under your skin as his palm drags slowly up your thigh to the curve of your hip. Inviting him to touch you.

Your breath quickens off your lips as Tommy slowly wraps his callused hand around the curve of your hip. Molding your flesh in his palm as he pulls you tighter against him.

“Is this a’right?” Tommy asks, bathed in a darkness that fills the room with an electric energy that makes anything possible. Making no assumptions. He needs to hear you say it. Tommy always takes the lead, he needs to feel in control, but after what happened to you, he also needs to know what you’re comfortable with. What you need, because if it was up to him, you’d already be naked and withering beneath him.

He’s missed you so fucking badly. You’re the anchor in the chaos of his life. You hold him steady when everything else rips apart. But Tommy’s lips struggle to say those words. After the war he’s forgotten what they sound like coming off his breath. He can’t say it, but he can show it. Taking pride in his ability to take you higher than anyone else can, leave you begging for more, but he’s been holding all that back. Not wanting to press you for something you weren’t ready for yet.

“Yes.” Shaken by need, your thighs clench as you ache inside for him. Missing him from the deepest hollows of your heart, you reach for his hand and drag it down between the ache of your thighs.

“Touch me, Tommy.” You beg him, your voice as needy as you feel.

He reacts instantly, his breath hot on your flesh, as he groans against the back of your neck. The sound of it vibrates against you, stirring up memories of that last night before your met with Al. When the room could barely contain you both and all Tommy wanted was you trapped in the cage of his arms and the breath of his lips. Tommy peppers you with kisses as his fingers begin to slowly stroke you, your hips flexing against his touch, desperate for more.

You wither against his touch as his Tommy’s fingers roam and rediscover every place that makes you tick. Back and forth, circling against you until he has your knickers soaked against his deft fingertips. You exhale hard, a little in disappointment when his hand suddenly pulls back, unsure if he’s teasing you or stopping completely, but then you feel Tommy’s slip inside the seam of your knickers, his palm pressing against your belly, before he halts.

You can feel it racing in your heart from the unsteady twitch of his hand. Tommy needs your permission to proceed. The days of bold moves and blanked assumptions feel so far away after the brutality of what happened to you.

“Don’t stop.” Urgent and needy, you push his hand further down between your legs, giving you both what you want.

Tommy’s breath deepens sharply against your skin before it suddenly dies in his throat when his fingers meet your flesh. He groans deeply against your neck like a man on the edge of collapse, you shutter as the sound of it vibrates off your skin. He slips into your wetness and you cry out in relief, so desperate for his touch. Desperate to feel connected to him once again from the most intimate places upon you.

Slowly Tommy explores you like it’s the first time all over again. Making you feel desirable even after what’s been done. His fingers run teasingly along your entrance, sliding back up to rub his slick fingertips against you. As you lean into him, the feel of him sending shockwave rolling through your body with every curl of his finger.

“Tommy…Please…” You whimper and beg losing sense of yourself in his grip as the pressure buried deep between your thighs builds. You bury your face against the pillow to quiet the noise carrying from your lips, trying not to wake the children or anyone else in the thin walls of this home. The coil of your belly and the pang of your heart, tells you you need to feel him inside you again. Feel those rough luscious fingers that pull away at cigarette’s all day long, curl and bury deep within you the way they use to.

But what you don’t know is Tommy needs this just as bad as you do. He’s been patient, never pushing, but the nights have been long and torturous with your warm curves snuggles against him. It’s been killing him to have you beside him, and yet completely untouchable after the damage Al did.

“This what you need, love?” Tommy asks, his breath dangerously low as he sucks on the back of your neck, slipping two fingers within you, and curling them deep.

A gasps rips from your chest, your back arching against his chest as your hips jerk involuntarily into his hand. Your mind goes blank with the feel of the man you love inside you once again, moving within you as if you aren’t damaged, as if he still wants you, always will.

You rock faster against his fingers, hungry with need. It’s been so long, your body is already building and pushing toward release as Tommy reminds you no one can touch you the way he does. Palm flat, rubbing against your sensitive bud, Tommy’s fingers dip within you, keeping perfect rhythm with the frantic rock of your hips. Your body feels hypersensitive after being deprived of him for so long. You feel like you can’t take it, like you can’t catch your breath or the racing of your heart. Quickly your hand reaches behind you to dig and claw in his hair, needing to touch him, needing him to anchor you as you begin to unravel.

The feel of having Tommy hard against you, his desire pressing at your back as his fingers push deep within you and suddenly your whole body starts to shake with pleasure. Your muscles tense, your breath catching in your throat as ecstasy rushes through your veins and you come hard around his fingers. Waves of rapture drowning you in a sea of bliss that steals the breath from your lips. Trembling and whimpering his name as Tommy holds you against his chest, never slowing down the unrelenting pace of his hand until you stop trembling and pulsing around his digits.

It takes you a moment to catch your breath as you come back down. Exhausted and spent from an explosive release that’s been building inside you for too long, but as Tommy’s hand pulls free, the empty feeling that takes his place tells you you still need him, and the feel of Tommy pressed hard against your back tells you he still needs you too.

His hand is barely free of your knickers before you’re rolling onto your back to face him and dragging the silk down your legs. You glance over at Tommy in earnest, watching as his fingers slip into his mouth, licking the taste of you clean from his digits. If you thought his eyes looked dangerous and drunk a moment ago, now they’re down right ravenous and deadly as he pulls his fingers free, humming with the taste of you on his tongue.

You reach for Tommy, the need palpable in your veins as you pull him into a desperate kiss. And Tommy’s just as hungry to taste your mouth as he was your arousal, as his tongue slips past the seam of your lips to stroke your own. Yanking his boxers down his legs, Tommy moves as if they can’t come off him fast enough. Tugging at the strong muscles that line his broad shoulders, you pull Tommy toward you in a frenzy, heart pounding hard for him in your chest.

Your mouths meld and taste as Tommy slips between your thighs, tugging your nightdress high up on your waist, and out his way. Drowning in the need to taste of each other, Tommy’s tongue strokes you as he settles his weight down in the cradle of your thighs. The feel of his warm body settling across, skin brushing sensitive skin, sends a moan humming off your lips and disappearing into his waiting mouth.

Tommy pulls back for a moment of sanity, cradling your cheek as he stares down into your eyes. The look in his enchanting icy blues suddenly so soft and gentle as he gazes down on you.

“You want to stop, just say the word and it stops, ey?” Tommy promises, stroking his thumb tenderly along your cheek. Needing you to know you’re in control of this and he’d never do anything to you that you didn’t want him to.

For a man so rarely soft with others, his gentleness toward you and the sight of him like this melts your heart and makes you all the more desperate to have him.

“I want you,” You say, words dripping with need as you dig your fingers into his hair, dragging him back down to your lips, rocking your hips against him with impatience.

Tommy breathes hard against your mouth, nearly fucking unraveling at the need on your breath alone. He kisses you hard, the hold of his mouth echoing the words on your lips. Stealing your breath before he plants a trail of pecks and nips along the line of your jaw. Reaching that sensitive spot, just below your ear, Tommy makes you shiver as he runs his teeth over it as he thrusts inside your warm wet depths.

You cry out with the feel of him, full and completely yours once again as your arms clutch wildly around his neck, your legs locking around his hips. Holding him as close as possible, savoring this moment and the way it makes you feel whole and not alone all at the same time.

Tommy stops moving too, steady within you, flooded by the sensation of having you all his once again. Wrapped and clenched tightly around him, the feeling sends a string of curses both romani and English spilling from his lips against your neck as Tommy tries to maintain some semblance of self-control.

Tommy’s slow, deliberate, and careful as he starts to rock within you. You’d think he were trying to make love, but you know that’s not what this is, he’s unsure. Tommy’s unsure what you want, what you can handle, but after being deprived of the man you love for so long, careful isn’t what you want. You want him to love you with the same fire and passion he used to, as you dig your heels into arse, pushing him deeper with every thrust as you rock hips to meet his. Tommy knows you so well by now, he understands your unspoken words, as his forehead comes to rest against yours, his eyes barreling desperately down upon you.

“Faster?” He asks, his ragged breath trembling against your lips as his face holds tight, trying so hard to hold himself back for your sake.

“Faster,” You nod, kissing him hard as Tommy moans against your mouth in relief, letting his hips snap deep within you. It’s been so fucking long that you almost feel like a reckless youth, lost in the throes of passion as your hips roll to meet his every thrust as if you can’t get enough of him. You devour his mouth, hungry for the taste of him on your tongue, needing you as badly as you needs him.

The energy is frantic, desperation rushing through your veins as you cling to each other, the small metal bedframe squeaking for mercy as it knocks into the wall. Tommy gives you everything he’s been holding inside. His fingers digging into the back of your thigh, gripping your leg higher against his hip as all his insatiable longing and unfulfilled desire for you savagely spills free.

His mouth leaves your own, trailing roughly down your neck as he ravages you, kissing and sucking away at your sensitive flesh as if he’s doesn’t give a damn what kind of marks he leaves in the morning. As if he wants the whole fucking world to know you’re his. Lost in the heat of passion, he bites down hard on the base of your neck like he has so many times before, growling against your skin as you wither beneath him, but this time something unexpected happens.

This time a flash fills your mind. A memory – you’re down on the bed as Al sinks his teeth into your flesh pushing you to break and cry out. And suddenly, you’re shoving Tommy back from you as hard as you can before you even know what you’re doing. Your hands moving on instinct alone as your whole body goes rigid and your heart starts to race with fear instead of passion.

Tommy stops instantly, breath panting as he hovers over you and he quickly pulls out. Staring down at you, his endless oceans of blue blinding with concern as they rain down on you. His hand dares to cautiously touch the side of your cheek as he braces his weight on his other arm, trying to keep off you, give you room to breathe.

“It’s ok, Fee. You a’right?” Tommy asks, his eyes desperately searching your own, trying to understand what happened.

“Can you- can you not do that this time? …Please.” You voice sounds so rattled you hardly recognize it as your heart races tightly in your chest. Staring back into the depths of his blue eyes – blue, not brown – you hold onto the safety of knowing it’s Tommy. You’re with Tommy, but you still feel anxious. Still feel unsure of what happened. One moment your body was on fire and the next you’re trembling with a fear you hardly understand.

“Course,” Tommy nods, worry consuming his deep-set eyes as he runs his thumb tenderly along your cheek, before he rolls off you and onto his back against the mattress, to lay beside you. Chest rising and falling heavily, Tommy’s stares up at the ceiling, trying to cool off his body as anger and guilt rush through his veins.

Guilt pummels his heart that he did something to remind you of that prick. Anger over all of it. That Al did things to you that left an imprint in your mind the way the shovels did for him. It all comes rushing back at Tommy. What that bastard did to you. Did to you because of him. And maybe if you were still just Charlie’s nanny and not the woman he loves maybe you wouldn’t have been seen as leverage.

Tommy still can’t hardly think about it. Mostly, he tries to push it out of his mind until the time is right. But there’s still moments like this when it finds its way to the surface and fills him with so much blinding rage he can hardly contain it. It takes everything inside him to stay focused on the problem in front of him. He has to deal with Changretta and get the fuck out of the cage he’s been backed into in Small Heath and then Al’s his first priority. Tommy hasn’t said a word of this to Fiona, but he is determined to make that bastard pay for what he did. Now more than ever

The absence of Tommy leaves a hollow feeling reopening inside you. The proof that your scars still remain rattles you and leaves you unsure of yourself or who you are now. But you refuse to let that night steal all your happiness away. You’ve healed enough to decide you won’t let it take Tommy from you either. You refuse. Rolling onto your side, you snuggle against him and to your relief, he welcomes you into arms.

Tommy doesn’t reject you like you worried he might, but the longing inside you still feels unquenched and you know it does for Tommy too though he won’t act on it now. Taking a bold step, you slip your hand beneath the blanket, and to your relief his body responds to the stroke of your hand almost instantly, reassuring you he still wants you. But you barely get a chance to touch him before Tommy is snatching your hand and dragging it back up to his chest, leaving your heart more confused than ever.

“It’s a’right, love. You don’ have to do that.” Tommy tells you, feeling guilty. He won’t treat you like that bastard. He won’t have you push your body to do things you aren’t ready for just to meet his needs. Especially not if you think it’s your duty after he took take of yours.

“Tommy, I want-“ You start, but he cuts you off before you can finish. Finding it hard to believe you actually want this after the fear he saw in your eyes.

“I’m sorry I frightened you.” Tommy says flatly, changing the subject. You’d think it was insincere, if you couldn’t see his eyes. His breath so low and steady, it sounds like a death order handed down from a Sargent Major to his subordinate infantry, but you can see in the depth of vulnerable blue eyes as they stare up at the ceiling… It kills him to think he scared you. And now he’s pulling away and shutting down, managing that feeling the only way Thomas Shelby knows how.

The look in Tommy’s eyes melt your heart as you lean up on your elbow and place tender kisses upon his shoulder, moving slowly down along the muscle of his chest. Letting your lips linger around his tattoo.

“You didn’t scare me.” You whisper against his skin, over the spot that covers his heart. Your hands roam over the muscles that contour and line his chest and taut stomach, the ridge of his pecks, the flex of his abs. There’s still traces of unease vibrating through your nerves, you can’t deny that, but they aren’t directed at Tommy. If anything, you feel safer by his side, in his arms. And you see now you’re both struggling from your own scars from that night. Tommy still feels guilty he didn’t prevent it, didn’t protect you. He doesn’t want to push you, but you need him to know this is still what you want.

Your knees dig into the bedding as you turn to him, your hands bracing against the solid warmth of his chest as move across him to straddle his hips.

“Fee-“ Tommy starts to protest before your eyes lock as you settle against him and he can see the passion reaching for him in your eyes.

“Tommy, you could never scare me.” You promise him. Staring down into those deep fucking eyes that pierce right through you like daggers, gnawing down deep in your belly. You don’t know what that was. It’s never happened to you before, but you’re sure of one thing… It had nothing to do with the way you feel about this man and had everything to do with what’s still lingering in you.

“I don’ entirely know what’s happened, Tommy, but I do know I still want you and I still want you to touch me… And I still want to touch you.” You confess, trying to explain it as best you can. Leaning down to place slow tender kisses along taut stomach for emphasis, leading a trail up his chest. Your blood pumping harder as you feel his muscles tighten slightly under your lips, responding to your touch.

You know your gut was right as you feel Tommy’s hands splay against your hips. You lean back on him, staring down deep into his eyes, lost in anticipation of what’s to come, before slowly leaning down against his body to recapture the hunger of his mouth once again. With the demand of his kiss, the grip of hands roam the curves of your body, there’s no denying Tommy wants you. And there’s no denying you want him too as your hand slips between the press of your bodies, gripping and stroking him tightly as you draw him to your warmth, before you sink back down on him.

Tommy curses against your swollen lips as he breaks the kiss. Echoing the sharp intake of your breath. Your hands trail down his chest as you lean back on him, nails dragging against his flesh and along the muscles that contour his chest and taut stomach. Staring down into the madness of Tommy Shelby’s eyes, as penetrating as they are blue, you gather up your nightdress and pull it over your head, revealing yourself completely to him. The fabric barely slips over your head before your feel Tommy’s hands glide over your hips, his palms racing along your back. Sending shivers down your spine as he sits up on the bed, pulling you desperately close to steal your breath in a demanding kiss.

Your arms wrap around Tommy, feeling his muscles flex and tighten beneath your palms, his chest rise and fall flush against your own, so close his breathes could practically be yours. Tommy’s heart pounds as he moves you against him, wrapping his arms around your body, holding you close. He lightly rests his head against yours, his hand roaming and caressing all the places he knows will makes you shiver and sigh.

You run your hands up the back of his head just to feel his shorn hair pick against your palms, your back arching against him as your head falls back. Your mind lost in a haze of delirium, his hot skin flush with your own as the bow of your back sends Tommy pushing deeper within you, your bodies move perfectly in sync. You’re fighting for breath as your belly coils, pushing closer to the edge. And you know you’re not the only one dancing with fire as Tommy’s drag you more feverishly against him.

You breathe him in, this man you love. Staring deep into his eyes that mirror back your image as your noses brush and lips meet, as Tommy moves you both as if you were always made to joined like this. You love him, and he loves you, you can feel it in that moment as surely as you can feel his hands grip and mold at your flesh, as surely as you can feel his heavy breath upon your lips.

And in that moment, everything else falls away. All the pain, all the guilt, the room and its bloody walls, until it’s only you and him, lost madly in each other. In the fever of what you can create between your bodies. Your thighs clench as your hands grip him tighter, feeling your body charge closer and closer to your mounting release. The pressure and hunger for it blinding back at you in the captive hold of his pupil.

You’re delirious and drunk off this moment, you’d stay here forever if you could, as the need for release builds rapidly inside you. You whimper his name chasing the high his body gives you, his love amplifies.

“That’s it, love. Let me feel you come.” Tommy encourages, his breath as ragged as the cry of his name off your lips.

“With me,” You beg him, pressing your lips frantically to his in your request as your pull Tommy impossibly closer against you. You need this to be with him. After everything. You need to find each other, burn alive together.

Gripping your hair tightly against the back of your head, Tommy nods against your mouth as you fight to hold back your release. Your body aching as he drags you faster against the length of him, filling you completely with every thrust, as his hands grow heavy and insistent against your sweat beaded skin. Your thighs tremble trying to hold off, you’re right on the edge of climaxing. Your mind unraveling under the pressure as you try to hold on, and then he says it.

“Now,” Tommy urges desperately against your lips in a rush of breath and suddenly, you let go, breathe gasping against his parted lips in frantic relief.

Clinging desperately to Tommy as your head presses deeply against his. You stare lost and delirious into his icy eyes as cries of ecstasy fall from your lips and mirror his own. Your bodies tremble as you hold onto one another, ecstasy racing like an inferno through your veins, the same euphoric fire dancing in the pupils of his dilated eyes as you climax together.

Your forehead rests against Tommy as your body nearly collapses against him, slick with mingled sweat, your panting breathes meet as a quiet hum still vibrates through you. You hold Tommy close as he holds you flush against him. You look deep into Tommy’s eyes, staring into the endless abyss of them, feeling as if there isn’t an ounce of space between you left in this world. Savoring the feel of seeing him completely, of feeling as if he can see you completely too. Connected in every way and completely unafraid.

As the moment passes your head comes to rest against his shoulder completely exhausted as you snuggle in his arms and feel Tommy’s face settle against your shoulder. Wrapped in each other, all warm flesh, tangled up tightly, your baby hidden between you. Running your hands along the back of his shorn hair, you finally speak.

“After Tony, I never thought I’d feel this way again… Never thought I wanted to.” You whisper to Tommy as you reflect upon your words, hoping he understands what you’re trying to say. That you love him. That you’ll always love him. And you see now there’s no hand grenade this world can throw at you that’s going to change that.

Tommy runs his hand gently up the length of your back, his fingers tangling in your wild hair as he leans in to place a soft kiss against your shoulder.

“…After Grace, I didn’t either.” His words settle under your skin and shiver down your spine as tears well up in your eyes. Maybe it’s the hormones. Maybe it’s just relief. But for the first time since you walked into that hotel lounge and faced Al over a month ago, you have hope you and Tommy will survive this.

For the first time in a long time you think things might finally be turning a corner. Things might finally be looking up. The war with mafia seems to be shifting tides. Finally, back in each other’s arms where you belong, Tommy keeps you updated on the plans at hand. He knows the truth is important to you, so he gives it. Whispering to you in the dark about a deal he’s made with an American gangster named Al Capone. The connection your Al made for him, though he never says his name to you, not once. He tells you, now that Capone has his first shipments of gin he’s making arrangements for men to aid in ending this war with Changretta. The news fill your heart with hope. You know putting an end to this won’t be easy, but finally things are starting to go right.

Tommy’s busy. He’s always busy. You’ve grown so accustom to it you’re not sure what you’d do if he ever had time for leisure. In that way, he reminds you of your father. Never enough time. Not enough hours in the day to quench the kind of ambition that rumbles and wages war inside Tommy, calling out for blood before the day is thru.

The upcoming fight consumes his mind most readily these days, as surely as the gin he keeps insisting everyone try. He’s going fucking mad. Like a horse kept cooped up in the stall too long. The vendetta has him back in a corner for the time being. Back to his roots, where he came from as if to remind Tommy he can never really escape it. And perhaps that’s what gets to Tommy the most, but you can’t be certain.

So when Tommy insists you accompany him and the rest of the family to a boxing match he’s holding, you can’t turn down the chance to spend a night out on the arm of your sweetheart. And the fact that he finally wants to show the world you’re his, gives you added hope things might actually work out.

You haven’t told Tommy about the baby, there hasn’t been a chance, and if you’re honest, you’re still a little afraid. Unsure of how he’ll take the news or how he’ll want to proceed. But you saw the midwife Pol sent you to and she estimated you were nearly three months gone, effectively removing Al’s as a contender… you at least had that.

You don’t know what to expect on your night out. You’re never been to a fight before. Never been to a show of any kind really. Not since you were a girl. After Finn, money was too scarce to spend on entertainment of any kind. So when you arrive with Tommy and the rest of the family at a grand old theatre it nearly takes your breath away. Balconies and showboxes three floors high, but you get a front row seat like you’re a real Shelby.

Tommy looks dapper in a black suit and white undershirt. Sporting his fine wirer glasses that make you gnaw at your bottom lip just to stop yourself from biting his. You tell yourself he has no idea how handsome he is, what the sight of him does to you, but not even you are that fool hearty. Everyone is dressed in their finest attire, specialty dresses purchased just for tonight, and you worry you’ll have nothing suitable to wear. But Tommy’s taken care of that too. Thinking of everything, always one step ahead.

He surprises you with a new dress. Black to match his suit, long and slinky, with sparkles like diamonds that glisten off the theatre lights, straps that hang thinly on your shoulders, with a back cut dangerously low. You feel beautiful. More beautiful than you can remember feeling in a very long time, but the way Tommy looks at you in the dress, his eyes fixated and unwavering before a sexy smirk slowly covers his face… You feel like the most beautiful woman in the world. You only hope you might be able to steal a few moments alone with him somewhere tonight.

You sit with the other Shelby women and Lizzie at the edge of ring. Across from the men, but still in the heart of it all. Watching as the fight unfolds between an unfair match in your opinion, one big, the other small. And as the fight begins, your eyes reach across the ring in search of him, but Tommy’s nowhere to be found and that’s when it starts… the uneasy feeling that begins to stir and come to life in your belly.

At first you caulk it up to the pregnancy. You haven’t felt like yourself since you put the pieces together, but then it doesn’t leave you, even after Tommy finally returns. Your eyes focus on Tommy across the ring from you. Losing sight of the fight as your gaze zeros in on him. You’re filled with an unshakable sense of unease even as Tommy catches your gaze across the ropes and smiles over at your reassuringly.

You watch Arthur beside him. He’s agitated, fidgeting about, mouth going on about things you can’t make out, but clearly leave him unsettled. His movements only heighten the tension inside you. Validating its presence as he turns to his brother, muttering words you can’t hear him say. But you feel it deep in your bones the way you felt it the night your brother died… Somethings not right. You try to distract yourself with the fight. Get lost in the thirst for the blood the crowd is hungrily chanting for. Getting wrapped up in the rhythm of swinging fists and boxers dancing around the ring, light on their feet.

You even follow the ladies into the women’s lavatories as they pass around gin to swig, only you don’t swig just pass and only Polly knows why. You try to let yourself get lost in their banter about men crying for blood, but you can’t shake the tension building steadily inside you. As you all return to your seats for the fight, you force yourself to watch as the Romani boy, Bonnie gets the beating of a lifetime.

You force yourself to enjoy the moment you were looking forward to so dearly earlier that day, but when Arthur storms off from his seat your eyes don’t miss it. You find yourself steadily moving to the edge of your seat as the fight disappears around you. And when Tommy stands abruptly, his eyes fixated on something you can’t pinpoint, before taking off after it, your heart jumps in your throat like a lump of coal to choke you with.

You don’t miss a beat as you rise numbly from your seat, heart hammering in your chest. Polly grabs at your arm in concern, but you only force a smile as you glance down at her.

“Lavartory.” You explain, not wanting to rile her up too if there’s nothing to report. You need to be certain before you make any claims. So as her arms releases you, you move steadily in the direction you saw Tommy disappear to, pushing through rowdy men as your heels stick to the spit and booze littering the floor.

Every instinct inside you screams something is wrong, it rattles in the hollows of your chest, tying your belly in knots with every step as the hairs on the back of your neck rise on end. You follow down a darken tile hallway, your heels clipping as your move. Until you enter a hall gleaming in blue lighting, bouncing and shining off the white tile walls until the whole areas glows like standing at the bottom of the sea. It leaves you with such unease, like standing at the bottom of the ocean and you can’t catch your breath.

Your heart hammers in your chest as your feet move slowly along the tile. Apprehension building in your heart with every step as you try to listen for Tommy. You find yourself second guessing turning down this way. Unsure you chose the right path. Your hand slowly finds its way across your belly, protectively clutching the tiny swell the way you would Finn if he were standing beside you.

You find it hard to catch your breath as anxiety and tension build all around and deep within your bones. Then you hear it! A gun shot, the noise ringing off the tile walls, echoing around you. Moments later you hear Tommy’s voice hollering out for Arthur and you swear your heart stops beating all together inside your chest.

It only takes you a second, a second for sheer terror on your heart. And in the next, you’re clutching at the bottom of your dress as you race as fast as you call down that ominous corridor, you voice echoing around you as you go. Terrified you’re going to lose the man you love all over again.

“Tommy!” You scream.

You have no weapon, there’s no thought or reason to your actions, just desperation and the desire to protect what’s precious to you. You turn abruptly at a corner, a wall of thick foggy steam surrounds you, envelopes you. Your heels freeze in their spot unable to see much of anything, it takes you a moment to adjust before you realize there’s a dead man lying sprawled at your feet.

You jump back in fright, your back slamming against the tile wall before you register Tommy calling your name and look up to find him crouched in the corner of the room, Arthur lying bloody in his hands.

“Get a fuckin towel- rag- somethin!” Tommy yells at you. He never yells at you, but the fear in his eyes is unmistakable as your frantically scan the room for anything usable. Snatching up the first piece of cloth you can find you rush over to him, trying not to slip on the slick tile.

Tommy grabs for your wrist, yanking you down to him as your knees slam hard against the unforgiving tile below, but you barely feel it as his eyes engulf you – his pupils dilated, a terrifying madness palpable in his gaze.

Tommy shoves your hands with the rag down against Arthur’s neck and the force of it sends your gaze following suit. You stare down at Arthur, blood soaked through the collar of his shirt, seeping out onto the white tiles around you as Tommy shoves your hands harder against his wound. You can feel yourself trembling, your mind scrambling to form any short of coherent thought when you feel Tommy’s hand cup your jaw and pull your face back up to his.

“I need ya to keep pressure on it, Fee. Gotta slow the bleeding. I have to go get some men and get Arthur outta here. But I need you to stay here and keep pressure on it, ey?” Tommy instructs you, his voice a low deadly whisper as he drags his blood smeared thumb across your cheek, trying to calm the panic racing off your breath.

You give him a shaky nod and that’s all Tommy needs as he rises to his feet. You hear a clank at your side moments later, and glance over to see Tommy’s placed a gun on the tile beside you.

“Keep this with you.” He orders, before the clip of his shoes against the tile can be heard quickly storming out of the room, leaving you completely alone with his brother’s life in your hands.

You glance back at down Arthur, his eyes wide and full of fear as your press firmly down on his neck, watching the rag your found darken with his blood. You notice the second pool of blood at your side and realize a few of his fingers have been nearly cut clean from the bone at the tips. You’re stomach churns as your push down the sudden urge to gag.

Drawing your eyes back to Arthur, you focus on only that. On reassuring him.

“It’s gonna be ok, Arthur. You’re gonna be a’right. Just stay with me. I’ll get Linda for you as soon as I can.” You promise, whispering to him softly as your words rattle with fear off your lips, heart pounding.

You feel his undamaged hand reach for you. Watch as it settles over the top of yours, before you turn one of your palms over and grip his hand tightly with reassurance. In that moment he reminds you so much of your brother the night you found lying beaten and dying in an alleyway outside the flat you shared. That fear a man gets in his eyes when he thinks this is the end. The fear you get in your own when you’re not sure if you’ll be the last thing they see. When you feel so small and helpless to change the rising tides.

But this won’t be that moment. Arthur won’t end up like your brother. You swear it as you clutch his hand tightly and hold back the tears shining in your eyes. “You’re gonna be a’right Arthur. I promise.” You repeat, forcing a smile for him, your chest so tight you can hardly breathe.

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