#my laptop is busted right. so i had to draw this on the family computer.

[carmarriage]

mwah

[electric-sympathy]

Vampire!Dean fic excerpt

Right, so, I know I said I was going to post a bit of Cathemeral, but I was going through my files and yet another unfinished Vampire!Dean fic caught my eye. I wrote it a number of years ago after a “painful transformation” commentfic prompt at Hoodietime. 

So, here is a quick excerpt from my Hellsing-inspired fic!!! Just finished fleshing it out. It’s about 1.5k words. Takes place after Dean has busted himself and Sam out of a stronghold of Crowley’s with a little help from an impromptu vampiric transformation, but as you can see, something went Very Wrong. I guess you could call this Chapter 3?

Enjoy!!!! Concrit welcome!!!

Sam is concentrating intently on a scan of a 14th century manuscript when he hears a noise right at his ear, like wings, drawn out and distorted as if through water, quiet and delicate.

There are four pure black moths on his forearm, gathered three in a circle at one point and one scuttling towards them, looking to squeeze in.

He flaps his hand at them. They collapse into shadow and swirl round his fingers like fog before dissipating, drawn unseen into the surrounding darkness.

There are three pinpricks in his skin.

--- * \ \ * \ \ * ---

Sam’s immediate thought is of Dean, unconscious in the bedroom. He rushes away from the computer, but pauses when he reaches the bedroom door, open just a crack. For just a moment, the suppositions that Dean needs protecting and that Dean himself could be the danger fight each other before Sam's guilt and protectiveness wins out. 

Cautious, he presses the pads of his fingers to the aged wood and eases the door open as silently as he can, edging inside, demon killing knife at his hip...

And then he stands in the doorway, staring, half in half out, one hand clutching the door frame. Trying to make sense of what he sees.

The shadows on Dean's body have broken their bounds.

They've spread out strangely, bigger than they should be, and are reaching out into three dimensional space. And like shadows, all he can see at a given point is the outline of the entire semitranslucent mass. 

At first, it looks like hydrangeas flowing in the breeze.

Sam edges cautiously further into the room. He can't match whatever this is to anything he knows about vampires, real or fictional, and can't help but use the caution pounded into him through years of hunting, Dean or not.

Closer now, he can make them out: Hundreds of moths made of pure shadow are clustered on Dean's body. Small wings flutter sluggishly as they wander drunkenly in each space portioned out to them, oblivious to Sam's entry. He waves his arms in the air, trying to get their attention, but none take notice. The revelation doesn't make any more sense to Sam than before. It doesn't seem like they're doing anything to Dean. They almost seem to be a part of him, with the way they seem to be reaching out from the shadows on his body. Part of whatever transformation he's going through. Sam can't think of anything like this, nothing he's read or encountered. Even Daeva are dramatically different shadow creatures-- more invisible than really made of shadow. The effect could almost be pretty, if it were not so obviously unnatural, or infesting his brother.

...Should he wake him? Would that make it stop? Should he make it stop? The answer seems obvious.

Sam creeps to the head of the bed. Slowly, he reaches towards the intersection between Dean's neck and shoulder. At the edges of that mass, he can see their beady little eyes as holes punched through the shadows.

It parts at the intrusion of his hand for a moment, the little things bumping lightly into each other as they move away, seemingly not sure what to make of him. But when the wave crests, they clamor for him as one. They reach out in a strange symmetry, four tendrils made up of a column of bugs to wrap around his forearm. Tens of dainty, long proboscides reach for his skin, and this time, he feels the pain. He panics, yanks his arm away, and there's a delicate pull like little threads snapping as he does. The moths are pulled free, and collapse from the force back into shadowy tendrils that recede into Dean's neck. That shadow looks normal again.

There are four rows of perfectly spaced lines of pinpricks wrapping up and around his forearm. Just barely big enough for blood to bead before clotting.

He waits, knife at the ready.

Nothing happens.

They've forgotten about him already. He waits as long as he can stand it, knife hand eventually falling dejected at his side. He concludes that their intelligence is rudimentary, if they are even sentient.

Well, he decides, at least I have something to go on now. He trots back to the side room to retrieve his laptop, focus newly replenished.

By the time he's back, setting himself up at the little desk at the window to watch out of the corner of his eye, little wings are budding like petals from the shadow at Dean's neck again.

Sam tries to cover up the knowledge that he is sitting vigil with the idea that at least he can tease Dean about being the Butterfly Boy when he wakes up.

--- * \ \ * \ \ * ---

"...The genus Calyptra is a group of moths in subfamily Calpinae of the family Erebidae. They are a member of the Calpini tribe, whose precise circumscription is uncertain but which includes a number of other fruit-piercing or eye-frequenting genera currently classified in Calpinae.

The common name of many of these species, vampire moth, refers to the habit that they have of drinking blood from vertebrates. Some of them (C. thalictri) are even capable of drinking human blood through skin..."

"...The Carpathian Mountains arch through the Czech Republic and then turn east, continuing on through Poland, Romania, Slovakia, and Ukraine before finally ending near the Danube River in Serbia. It is here in this mountain range that there lives a species of vampire known as a mahr. Living off the consumption of human souls, the mahr swoops down upon its victim in the form of a moth, taking a bite or two before flying off. The more often a mahr attacks a single victim, the easier it becomes for the vampire to do so in the future. Eventually the prey is killed and the soul consumed. Fortunately, there are two ways in which a mahr can be slain. The first is to...."

Sam stretches and runs his hands through his hair, turning away from the desk, and freezes.

Dean's awake.

Mostly.

The shadow moths are gone. Oversized, red irises with blown out pupils wander the room. He doesn't seem entirely aware of what he's looking at, or even what he's looking for. 

He's baring his fangs, and God, they're gigantic. 

As he works unconsciously to keep himself from drooling, his tongue laps out of his mouth like an angry dog's.

The expression on his face, however, is one only of sleepiness, confusion. Sam can tell that there's a slight undercurrent of distress trying to work its way through the fog.

Sam wonders if this is what it feels like to keep tigers.

"Dean?"

No answer. A little more confusion. A little less drooling.

Sam approaches the bed. He cards his hand through Dean's hair and lets it rest there. The warm weight seems to snap Dean out of it slightly; his pupils visibly retract, and he slowly stops his search through the room to stare sleepily at nothing, face slackening. His eyes seem to lose most of that preternatural scarlet glow; the structure of his irises is now visible through it again, which are now an odd brownish-maroon color. 

"Go back to sleep, Dean," he murmurs, soft and low, and tries unsuccessfully to hide the sadness  in his tone.

Dean's eyelids grow heavy and the alert tension drains out of him. His head burrows into the pillow and a soft, utterly self-unconscious exhale of breath escapes his lips. He falls back asleep almost immediately.

Sam has wished since before Dean's deal that he would accept the comfort he obviously needed, but not like this.

Falling asleep so easily... It made him look like a big kid. Sam welcomes the choking love for his brother, so absent this past year.

He stays by the bedside for a long time.

--- * \ \ * \ \ * ---

Castiel shows up at dusk a few hours later, a sizeable jar of demon blood held to his side, furtively, like contraband. As usual, there is no expression on his face, but his body language seems uncomfortable. It's something he must have scavenged from Bobby's pantry which, strangely, makes it look for all the world like a harmless half gallon of blackberry preserve.

The fact that it isn't for Sam doesn't make him feel any better.

Castiel ignores its presence entirely and gets straight to the point. The moths returned shortly after Dean fell back asleep, but if Castiel is surprised by them he doesn't verbalize it.

"How is he?"

"He woke up for a few minutes a couple hours ago, but he didn't seem..." Sam's face screws up. He tries again. "It was like he could tell there was a... A source of blood in the room, but he wouldn't focus on anything. Didn't respond when I tried to talk to him."

Castiel is staring at Dean all the while, head tilted in that way of his when thinking hard. Usually, it seems as though he's scrutinizing the space between atoms, but there's a line of frustration in his brow that makes it seem like he can't see anything. Sam wonders if he paid any attention to what he'd just said.

In that moment, Dean's head lifts from the pillow, drawing both their gazes.

Sam would've thought that having his pupils less dilated would make Dean's gaze feel less... animal, but it didn't. The glow had returned, making his owlish irises shine with a smooth, ruby iridescence.

The moths surge up from behind his neck, piling over each other, restless. Sam can actually hear the agitated titter of their wings this time.

He doesn't think he can watch this.

[tavi-hayes]

practice challenge ~ journey to the palace

((whoopwhoop, idk how i managed to write this (given it’s quite long and i usually never ever write stuff this long) also please excuse me again for any spelling/grammar errors i try. alsoooo thanks to these wonderful girls: Bethia @h-hart​, Kat @clara-choii​ and Pia @brookelynnsanders​!))

It was silent at work today. The only sounds were the flipping of pages and the ticking on keys of a computer, followed by a frustrated sigh occasionally.

“Maybe we should get some more flutes?” I said, “they’re not that expensive and they won’t take up a lot of space here.”

Lola, being distracted by her laptop, showed no sign that she had heard what I just said.

“Helllooo, Lo are you there?”

“Huh, what?” she ran her hands through her hair as she looked my way.

I lifted the catalogue to show her the flute page.

“No Tavi,” Lo leaned her head on the back of the chair, doing the accounts must have tired her. “We already have flutes, and no one is ever interested in them. They have been here for decades.”

I rolled my eyes, “maybe that is why no one is interested. They look grim.”

Lo refocused on her laptop, and I flipped another page of the catalogue.

Oeh, the bass guitars. My favourite part.

I ran my finger over the page, paying a lot of attention to each one.

There were electronic bass guitars, but also the semi-acoustic ones. Some were very modern-looking with the brightest of colours, while others go for more of a vintage look.

I don’t know if I would ever be able to part with my own baby. The bass guitar, that I now owned, had been eyeing me every day since it had arrived in the store. It had been love at first sight.

But it was such a big investment and I just didn’t have that kind of money.

A part of my earnings was needed for us to make a living, pay the rent and do the groceries for example. And the other part that wasn’t needed for that, entered our savings jar.

We had been saving money since the day my dad was put behind bars. For whatever reason those bars had been in St. George. Freaking St. George.

The province didn’t even have direct borders with Denbeigh, Ottaro was right in between.

That made a simple, but still long, car ride impossible. Not taken the problems that come with the snowy climate into account.

That same climate also caused issues for our only transportation option.

Denbeigh’s climate was hard to predict at times. It could be a beautiful day with sunshine and a clear sky, but then you wake up the next morning to a thick layer of snow.

And because those snowfalls could happen in at least 8 out of 12 months, a lot of planes got cancelled in those months. The only airport anywhere near Winnipeg was privately owned. So the owners could literally ask the prices they wanted for the plane tickets. And boy, they were only focussed on making a profit.

For a simple family of Fives, those prices were unpayable. Hence why we had been saving money for 6 years now, still nowhere near able to pay for tickets. My mom would need a ticket, Daniel and I would too, and we just can’t leave little Aria and Arlan. My dad should be allowed to see them as well. That’s means we already need the money for 5 tickets. But if we include Daniel’s family, with his wife and little Melody, then that would equal 7 tickets.

So yeah, I would never have been able to buy that bass guitar.

Until Lo had a brilliant idea. They would give it to me as my birthday present for the upcoming 10 years. At first, I couldn’t accept that kind of gift, knowing it would have been a huge investment for the Wood family as well. But they insisted, hinting that they would get an employee discount anyway since you know Mr Wood owns the place. So, the price dropped, and they ignored me, so I had to give in and accept. It was the best gift I had ever gotten.

The stores door busted open, “GIRLS!” Gina’s voice took me back to earth. “they’re about to do the draw!”

“What draw?” apparently Lo shared my confusion.

Gina rolled her eyes and grabbed Lo’s laptop from the table. “Wait, I was working! Save it, save it!”

The laptop was put right on top of the catalogue I had just been looking through. Lo ushered over as well.

“Let me just,” Gina had opened an internet page and started typing in the website address of Winnipeg’s number one news channel, WTV. Such an original name.

The news anchor, some middle-aged woman with very fake looking blond hair, appeared on screen. “What is she wearing?” Lo asked, disgust and confusion both showing on her face.

“A track suit, it’s part of her image,” Gina unmuted the laptop, the crow-like voice of the woman filling the room, “now shush, I wanna hear this.”

“… Cameron Porter has been selected for the Illéan national ice hockey team. The star of Winnipeg’s very own ice hockey team, the Winnipeg Belugas, will accompany the national team to the world cup, taking place later this year in Saint Petersburg, Russia. Last week’s draw concluded that Illéa will have to face the German Federation and New Asia in the group stage. The national team’s training will start next week.”

Lo and I shared a look, “this is what you wanted to see Gina?”

“Since when do you care about ice hockey?” I asked, this was something new.

“Urgh, you guys are intolerable,” she silenced us with her finger.

“… and now we will switch to the royal palace in Angeles, to watch the live draw for Prince Arin’s Selection.”

The draw, of course that was what had sparked Gina’s interest. For some unknown reason, the entire Selection had slipped from my mind.

Nevertheless, I felt a little flutter in my stomach. Nerves. Looking over to my friends, I noticed the tense looks on both of their faces. Lo’s hands were clasped together, while Gina’s had disappeared in the pockets of her cardigan.

“Welcome,” some weird voice-over called.

With that the camera focussed on the prince.

“Urgh,” I rolled my eyes.

Lo poked me in the side, laughing, “oh Tavi your distaste is showing.”

“I don’t understand how you can hate someone who is that good looking. I mean have you seen that jawline? Perfection.” Gina had had a crush on the prince for as long as I had known her.

I rolled my eyes again, “I don’t hate him.” The drawing began before I had time to explain myself further.

“From Allens … Idalia Moretti.”

“He doesn’t look very happy,” I couldn’t help but comment, “or comfortable.”

Gina sighed probably annoyed that she couldn’t listen to the show properly, “his engagement was called off not that long ago. That is a pretty hard thing to deal with.”

“Yeah, I see, it’s so hard that he’s having a Selection. Shouldn’t he like get over the other girl first?”

My friends ignored me.

“From Angeles … Emily Rose White.”

This thing was going to take forever. I just wanted to look at the catalogue again, not at that prince, “he’s making me feel uncomfortable, just by watching him.”

Again, no response from either of my friends.

I took that as a sign to remain silent, knowing very well my friends wouldn’t reply anyway now that their eyes were locked on the prince.

“From Dakota … Brooke Lynn Sanders.”

Gina let out a breath she was holding, “okay now is Denbeigh,” she took our hands in hers, “fingers crossed it’s one of us.”

Her hand palms were sweaty, she must really want this.

“From Denbeigh … Octavia Hayes.”

We were all silent for a minute. Then Lo started screaming, Gina joining her. “Oh my GOODNESS!”

“Tavi! You’re going to the palace! You’re going to meet the prince!”

“Yeah,” I was absolutely lost for words. Meeting the prince hadn’t been the first thing that came to my mind, hell it hadn’t even been the second or third thing.

The first thing I thought was: I’m one step closer to getting my dad out of prison. I will be in that freaking library day and night looking for the book that is going to help me. There must be something somewhere about a second opinion on a court order, or something else to annul the judge’s decision.

“Ohhh, I’m sooo jealous of you right now. You are going to meet the prince! And there’s a chance he will fall in love with you and you’ll have beautiful babies.” Gina pulled on one of my curls, it bounced up and down as she let go of it.

“Uhm, I think that particular chance can be redeemed to zero.” I bit my lip, not even in my biggest dreams had I imagined my name would be drawn.

“Tavi, listen. I know you only applied for those laws books, but you need to be friendly to the prince if you want to stay,” Lo insisted, “or else you will be eliminated.”

“And I have to interact with him?”

“There are girls who would kill for a chance of even being in one room with him,” Gina took over, she sounded very serious suddenly. “You’ll meet him that’s for sure, and if you actually try you might make it far enough to earn a date. Just at least try to be nice, okay?”

“Just don’t insult him,” Lo added, “or his family, or the country. Okay, don’t insult anyone.”

The way my best friends were looking at me brought me right back to the good old school days. That was exactly the way teachers had looked whenever I had done something naughty. Which had basically been at least once every day.

“Do you promise?” Lo asked when I didn’t respond.

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll try not to insult anyone.” I sighed, this is going to be so much harder than I thought.

All of a sudden a lot robot-like voice yelled “BREAKING NEWS”.

It just scared the living shit out of me. We turned as one towards the laptop again.

On the screen was that fake blond woman in her tracksuit again.

“Prince Arin just completed the draw for his very own Selection. Some famous girls will be joining him at the palace. Our very own province will be represented by Octavia Hayes. You might have heard of her, given that she is some meekly Five. But her father’s name will ring a bell. Octavia’s father is Caspar H., a dangerous convict in prison for murdering Winnipeg’s beloved mayor Wilfred Wallis. He might have very well passed the criminal gene onto his daughter. Not only is she definitely not a good representative for Denbeigh, but the lives of the royal family might all be in danger.”

“Damn it!” Stupid news anchor. Why couldn’t they just stay out of my family’s business. Now the entire country will be aware of this. My dad’s arrest did make the headlines of some newspapers when all that had gone down. But that had been 6 years ago and I had hoped no one would remember that.

But now it was out in the open. Again.

It didn’t even matter that my dad was innocent. He had already been suffering for it by being locked up far away from our family.

“Tavi,” Lo put her arms around me, “that’s just bullshit, no such thing as a criminal gene exists.”

Gina joined our hug, “you can’t take anyone seriously who wears a tracksuit on live TV.”

*** Couple of days later ***

Dear dad,

My name got drawn for the Selection, I’m going to the palace and meet the prince. Some palace person is coming to pick me up anytime now so I can’t write a lot. Plus, if the mail has already arrived then you will have to wait another month before you get this anyway.

I asked Daniel if he could start writing a monthly letter as well, maybe he can even add a little picture of Melody so you can see her for the first time. He said he will take care of mom, Aria and Arlan as well. Molly will just cook dinner for more people, which she doesn’t really mind doing. At least that’s what she said.

Anyhow I will write to you from the palace.

Lots of love, 

Octavia

Zohl wzw, R’n hxzivw. Tlrmt gl gsv kzozxv, z dslov mvd vmerilmnvmg dsviv R wlm’g pmld zmblmv. Ovzermt nln, vhkvxrzoob mld gszg rg urmzoob hvvnh orpv hsv’h gibrmt gl orev ztzrm. Zmw dszg droo gsv xlfmgib gsrmp lu nv. Droo R gfim rmgl zm lfgxzhg? Zxxliwrmt gl DGE R’n tlrmt gl hozftsgvi veviblmv rm gsv kzozxv, yvxzfhv lu blfi ‘xirnrmzo tvmvh’. Yfg gsv kvlkov dsl olev blf droo zodzbh yvorvev blfi rmmlxvmxv, vevm ru gsv dslov xlfmgib hvvnh gl gsrmp lgsvidrhv. Qfhg pmld gszg dv nrhh blf wvziob. Zmw R droo gib vevibgsrmt R xzm gl tvg blf ivovzhvw. Qfhgrxv zodzbh kivezroh.

*** At the airport ***

The car journey all the way from Winnipeg to somewhere in Sota had lasted for ages. Even though I hadn’t really been aware of that, since I fell asleep as soon as they closed the doors behind me.  

A frustrated voice had woken me up, “can you please stop drooling all over the leather upholstery?”

My eyes flew open, saliva was indeed smeared on the seat. I quickly wiped it off my face, where it had been present as well. “Sorry,” I mumbled, I then realized we had arrived at the airport, I quickly opened the car door and jumped out.

What I immediately noticed was the rain puddle I had landed in. My shoes and socks were soaking wet. Great.

“Maybe you should try to act more lady-like?” the driver said with a very disapproving tone, looking me up and down. He had already taken my guitar case out of the car and was about to put it right onto the wet street. I quickly grabbed the case out of his hands, clutching it close to my body.

The driver sighed, “there’s the entrance to the airport. Inside it will be clear which directions to follow.”

I made my way towards the entrance he had pointed at when I heard him mumble to himself, “why did I had to drive a barbarian?”

As I turned around, the car’s engine had been running again. I wasn’t sure if he could see me, nor I did I really care. I showed my middle finger to the car anyway. Asshole.

Never had I seen an airport before. It was freaking massive, people walking in all possible directions. Some carrying luggage with them, others with balloons that read “we missed you” or “welcome home”.

One day, my fam and I will be waiting at the airport, carrying one of those dumb balloons around. Coming to pick up dad.

I snapped out of my daydream by someone tapping me on my shoulder. “Miss Hayes, please come with me.”

Nodding, I followed the person not really having another choice since I had no clue which way I had to go. Maybe this is some insane kidnapper.

My heartbeat increased; did I just make a stupid mistake?

“Only one girl has arrived so far. You are to wait for the others before you can board the plane.”

Okay, no insane kidnapper then.

Unless.

This is a complete setup created by his crazy brain.

Panic filled my body, damnit how will I get out of this situation.

Okay, if I just push the person onto the floor, that will give me a chance to run for my life.

One. 

Two.

Three.

I took a deep breath in, ready to make the push. But at the last minute the person side stepped which caused me to lose my balance. He looked at me in a very funny way, “please take a seat, the flight attendant will come get you in a few minutes.”

My cheeks turned very very warm, the redness might very well have equalled the red colour of a traffic light.

Trying to calm myself down, I slumped down into a chair. Yikes, only now became I aware of it again. My socks were still wet and cold. Sigh.

After taking a few deep breaths in and out, I noticed the other girl.

“Oh hey, you’re also a Selected?” I started, realizing it wouldn’t be a bad thing to talk to someone.

She turned towards me, “I am Brooke Lynn Sanders, but just call me Brooke please!”

Not knowing what else to do, I waved at her a little awkwardly. “hi Brooke, nice to meet you. My name is Octavia, but please call me Tavi.”

“Nice to meet you Octavia. Did you have a good journey?” I could already tell she did have the lady-like manners I had been lacking.

Oh god, I couldn’t possibly tell her about the drooling situation, so I decided to stick to a vague answer. “Yeah, it was alright thanks. What about your own journey? Which province are you from?”

“My send off from Dakota was a bit bumpy but I am here now. I wish they would have let me take the train though...”

Another girl arrived, also looking very much like someone the prince could end up with. Compared to these two, I was more of a rag doll.

Pushing my feelings behind that wall deep inside me, I waved her over, “oh yeah hi, please join us.”

We chatted some more for a bit, until Haven arrived.

The way she was walking, the only person I had seen walking like that was Long-Beard Logan, the homeless guy who could often be found near New Wave Records. He walked the same way, but he had one wooden leg.

Then Haven opened her mouth, a weird voice coming out, “hi.”

I noticed Brooke shared my confusion, “uhm hello?”

She took out her phone and typed something, it read ‘I’m Haven’.

My confusion hadn’t ebbed away, “are you alright?”

She typed some more, ‘yup:)) just got a bad cold! what are your names?’.

As a response to that we all introduced ourselves again. These girls didn’t seem to be that bad, hopefully the other Selected at the palace were the same. But the chance of that being true was small. Also, why did I care what the other girls were like? I wasn’t there to make friends, with them or with the prince. I had applied for the thing I needed most. Access to the royal library.

“Have you guys ever been on a plane before? This is all very new to me.” I admitted, trying to ease the nerves that had been building up inside me ever since my name had been picked in that draw.

Brooke had a very strong opinion on planes. Private planes more specifically.

Which came as a shock to me. The private plane part. I didn’t know what I was thinking but taking a private plane had never crossed my mind.

In the meantime, Brooke started talking about the CO2 emissions.

“How else would we get to the palace without having an endless journey? It’s not like there’s a teleportation device, right?” I said a little more vicious than I intended. The higher castes used planes all the time, if anyone had a cause in the destruction of our planet it was definitely them.

Brooke definitely had thought of it all, as she mentioned the outstanding quality of the Illéan train system. Clara chimed in to agree with her.

I decided to not mention my exact thoughts about the higher castes, given the fact that I had promised my friends back home not to insult anyone. So I just nodded my head, “yeah okay I understand your point.”

We were able to board the plane shortly after that. Brooke sat down in a window-seat and Clara nestled herself in the seat next to Brooke’s.

I took a chair on the opposite side of the plane, trying to create some sort of privacy for myself without being rude.

Haven sat down in the seat next to me and smiled at me.

The entry door closed; I could no longer contain my nerves. “Here we go I guess.” I tried to calm my breathing, but it didn’t really help. I tried to think of my family back home in Denbeigh, didn’t help either. I heard my dad’s voice in my head, it was like he was actually talking to me, “You are a strong girl, the flight will be over before you know it. Octavia, you can do this.”

A weird sound whisked my dad’s voice away, I looked over towards the source of the sound. It was Brooke choking on her drink. “Please don’t die,” I said. Her dying here would be a shitty start to this whole adventure. Besides, Brooke actually seemed like a nice person.

She coughed, “I am – I am trying.”

Haven mentioned her sibling, how they were close and stuff. She then asked if we had any siblings ourselves.

This provided me with the perfect distraction. I turned towards her, “yeah, I have three siblings. One older brother, a younger sister and a younger brother as well.”

Normally I would never share such personal information with someone I had just met but talking about them was the distraction I so desperately needed from this whole plane situation.

The others talked some more, but I just realized the one and only thing that would get me through this.

Music.

“If you guys don’t mind, I’m gonna listen to some music.” I said as I took my earphones out of my bag. “Haven would you like to join?” I asked her politely, given that she was sitting right next to me and it would have been quite rude otherwise.

She smiled at me and nodded, so I handed her one of the earphones. “I do have a very mixed taste in music so you’re in for a treat.” Maybe I could even make her listen to our own music, you know casually extending Five Whispers’ audience.

As a reply, Haven winked at me, “I love a girl with mixed music taste.”

Oh who would have thought, I had something in common with another Selected. I too liked people with a diverse music preference, since music says so much about a person. The quote ‘You are what you listen to’ was on one of the walls of New Wave Records music store. It was also my own personal life motto.

Clara and Brooke continued chatting, but I didn’t listen anymore. The music had taken a hold on me and it had only released me from its grip when the plane hit the ground in Angeles.

[tracyk13]

36 and what a world I have seen

Honestly I’ve been terrible at journalling lately. Love handwriting in quill and ink style, but my current life leaves me exhausted after work and most of my time spent in education. But currently the Covid-19 pandemic made me consider the important world events I have witnessed. 

Born in 1984 I lived in a world of rapidly changing technology but still being forced outside to play. We always had an Apple computer in our house for as long as I can remember. Played the Oregon Trail in black and white, then in color. That was the standard computer game of my childhood. Mom got us Mario Teaches Typing, probably the only “video game” I ever played at that point. AOL was a thing. All those CDs in the mail with updates. I never really got into it, but my twin sister did.

Also a child of the Disney Golden Age of animation. Dramatically influenced my life to the point I went to work for Walt Disney World after college. Still a Disney fanatic to this day. 

Apparently my family visited Yellowstone National park (age 4? too young to remember anyway) then not too long after the park had the fire. 

Was alive though not conscious of world events when the Berlin Wall fell. Watch the birth of CNN during the first Desert Storm when my dad was there overseeing some of the first drone flights. The military required a pilot on hand for those flights. He told us later how some Iraqis would surrender to the drone plane, not that it was ever one of the ones he supervised. And according to my mom I frequently asked to NOT watch the 24 hour stream of news because it was too depressing and I knew that’s where dad was. 

Really started to pay attention to news (not that l enjoyed it but that’s the timeline for how chidden develop) during the O.J. Simpson trial. 

By that point I had lived on both coasts of the USA, crossed country twice, lived in many different environments from Washington’s cold wet seasons to California’s deserts California’s coast to landlocked suburbia of Georgia. 

Where I learned to drive, had a single Nokia phone for me and my twin in our tiny Cabrio convertible (I hate convertibles). Got a personal computer for the first time, where before it was a single family computer. The iMacs were coming out right when we were heading to college. My sister got the desktop, I got the laptop and have never looked back. Still have my gumstick shuffle iPod floating around and it still works.

Got to watch the insanity of Indecision 2000 and appreciate political humor for the first time.

I’ve been to 9 different schools for 12 years of school, not including college. That would make it ten. Was a freshman in high school when the Columbine shootings happened. Some weeks later we had a pipe bomb threat at our school which forced all the students out to the football field. From the top of the bleachers we could see the bomb squad and their dogs entering the school. All I could think of was if someone really wanted to kill at lot of people, there on the bleachers would be the place to do it. Then at some point in my adult life someone did it at a movie theater showing The Dark Knight. 

Saw the images of the Oklahoma City bombing. Heard about the Unabomber. Watched the Waco Texas incident.

But my senior year was the time of 9/11. My math class was out in the hallway doing a math related science type experiment, can’t tell you what it was. But that day was the only day I have ever heard a school of nearly 5,000 students absolutely silent during class change. Thus Desert Storm part two happened. 

Right before I headed off to college. So I wasn’t super savvy about applying to colleges. I only applied to one. Didn’t have a clue as to what I wanted to do with my life. I’ve done a wide variety of sports, been writing fiction since at least 10 years old, drew and painted fairly well, thought about doing animation or architecture (did a semester learning thing with a local firm, decided it wasn’t for me). 

Ended up getting a degree in two foreign languages but not fluent in either. It did greatly improve my understanding of the English language. And I had the privilege of an exchange program for a school year to Japan, plus of study abroad summer to Germany. Would never regret any of that. Even if it didn’t get me a degree that got me a job. 

Instead I went to Disney World as part of their internship program. Been in foods and hospitality for a significant portion of my life (thus far). Loved working there. Got to work with the Characters and it was fabulous. Even with the frustrations of all work environments. 

But it couldn’t last. Minimum wage was raised, but the cost of living out stripped the earnings for a single person living alone. Prompting a move back home with parents to get another degree. Then the Housing bubble burst, loans defaulted, mortgage crisis, resulting in the Great Recession. It did get me a house in my name but basically an income property for my mom as her inheritance from my grandmother. All the while I’m going to school to be a nurse.

Now let’s not forget about the many weather crises I’ve witnessed via the news. Hurricanes Katrina, Sandy, Harvey, Maria to name the ones I easily remember. The Class 5 tornado that wiped out a midwestern town. The volcano in Iceland rerouting planes. The tsunami in Indonesia and Sumatra. The massive earthquake in Haiti. These are only the ones that easily come to mind without researching what happened during the years I’ve been alive.

Not to mention the diseases that I’ve seen via the news. First to mind was the Ebola outbreak while I was in nursing school. Saw the hype on the Swine Flue, SARS, Avian flu to name a few easily remembered. Those never reached me personally. Now it’s Covid-19 unfolding. Called SARS-CoV-19 now, but that later.

But its not all disasters. Went to the Atlanta Centennial Olympics still have the t-shirt. Was alive during the first black president. 

Took part in the massive phenomena that was Harry Potter and still love it to this day. It showed me that fiction/fantasy could be a mainstream genre to write for. I started writing FanFiction at that time to fill in the long spaces between books. Started when fan fiction.net had the 7or 8 main characters to choose from for tagging. It was like the Wild West of figuring out what you were about to read. Learned about Slash, yaoi, lemons and such the hard way. But being exposed to it that way did open my eyes to what goes on in other people’s heads. Knew immediately that just because I didn’t like something didn't mean I had to hate on it. I left it alone once found and kept going. Really helped increase my tolerance to other cultures and thoughts.

Met my best friend on a role playing site and we wrote nonstop during our college years. Went to her wedding, have a lovely Renaissance style dress as a bridesmaid gift. Still am in touch with her. We don’t write together any more as we have moved in our lives with adulting. But I still have all those stories and hope to turn them into something.

Had my first camera cell phone in Japan as just a basic free phone. Was shocked to find cameras in the States were not standard. One of my friends in Japan kept doing selfies before they were called selfies. Blind positioning of the camera for pictures. Then came the iPhone and the world never looked back.

Joined Facebook when it required a college email. Used MSN messenger and Yahoo messenger to communicate with people around the world. Didn’t join the Twitter or Tumblr movement until after they became established. Saw the boom and bust of the Dot.Com bubble. Watched the Dow Jones numbers increase without the income to invest the way they said to.

Lived right above the poverty line during the Recession. Not knowing if I could make it the next month. Never being able to claim poverty on the tax forms. Caught in the income dead space of not being able to afford health insurance from the markets but in a state that didn’t allow for Medicaid expansion.

But I do not have the worry now thankfully. 

Jobs wise I’ve been a telemarketer, dishwasher, a line cook, a hostess, server, janitor, assistant manager, and now I’m a nurse. I started on med/surg, ED, Cardiac, and ICU. In a small rural hospital getting smaller in a time when rural were shutting down because of no funding. They serve areas with a high rates of unemployment, uninsured, drug and alcohol abuse.

Worked at a busier hospital were no bed was left empty. Sicker patients. Work in a mid-size place. Some days super busy, some slower. 

Covid-19 had the affect of somehow doing both. First few days was almost empty, now it fluctuates. Mostly rule outs. And the protocols are changing hourly which makes life frustrating for us. It’s the constant unspoken threat of going into work not knowing if you’ll have the right equipment to do the job. I’m not scared of the virus itself, not even of the collapse of the economy. I’m scared of the surge that will put my coworkers at risk.

I live alone (my little sister lives with me now) so very little contact with others. But they have kids and a much closer physical distance to their older parents. I know I will add days to my weeks if they have to stay out for any length of time. 

So this is the first time a world event as truly affected me. It is a terrifying time which prompted this summary of my life so far.

I went into a restaurant and saw no one. I never thought I’d see that day. I don’t want people to loose their income, but if people were to go about their daily activities we would loose so many in one go. All I can do is my job.

The more I watch the more depressed and stressed. At work is worse.

I’m teaching myself a new craft because of this. I have taken up leather working to make masks. It helps the creativity outlet. I started drawing class early in 2020 and was set to continue drawing and add painting when the social distancing started. I admit it felt overblown in the beginning. Now the numbers are changing rapidly and we are really seeing what happens in close communities. Just keep working. It’s part of life now. No matter how much if feels like a movie plot line.

But back to other things I’ve seen.

LGTBQA and others coming into the forefront of society. Saw legalization of gay marriage. Quite thrilled with that.

Didn’t hear the term Asexual in reference to a sexual preference until my early 20s. Immediately recognized similar stories to me. Never had an interest in sex or having a partner. A name did make things more relatable, but I will never fully understand people who seem to base their entire existence on their sexual preference.

I’ve been call sir many times based on how I dress. I still sound like a female. Can’t fault anyone for using the appropriate pronoun for what they see in front of them. But that’s a culture that’s growing. Preferred pronouns. But I have to admit that an online friend referred to me as “they” despite a lady being in my username and it felt nice. So in honor of the Special Snowflake term that floated around, I’m an nonbinary aromantic asexual. Probably with a fem-romanitic leaning. 

Saw the rise of the Millennials. I’m caught between Gen X and the Millennials. Now that all the Millennials are of age to vote, perhaps change is underway?

I’m back in college for my 3rd and then 4th degree. In nursing. Online. Watching the world combat a virus.

A US that is split down the middle politically. A world with more pollution problems than we can handle. Governments preferring to coverup mistakes and corruption than help their citizens. The term Public Servant is obviously not taken seriously in some places. See Flint, MI and their water. Lobbyists creating bills that benefit corporations rather than people. Politicians that never retire and keep getting lucrative reelection donations from those very corporations. 

The rise of narcotic drug use, prescription drugs. Pill mills. 

Sex scandals taking center stage in the news rather than things that actually affect daily life. Among things I will never understand is the fear of Transgender women in the women’s restrooms when it was always a straight conservative man who was the center of all these sex scandals. 

Asexual brain at work. I simply do not understand. Conclusion: If you look like a certain gender, you’ll most often be treated as that gender.

What I do miss were the kid shows and cartoons in the 90s. They were super progressive with great literature themes. I knew the story of some of the greatest classic literature simply by the references in those shows. 

Also the era of War on Drug commercials. Recycling promoted. 

My favorite: Captain Planet. Not only was it pushing for a cleaner earth it had different nationalities. Stereotypical, but a far better representation than what I am seeing in kids shows today. It was diverse in that multiple skin tones were seen on screen together rather than specific skin tones marketed to that specific demographic. Now I do like how many more cultures are represented, I just want them shown in ways where color and culture is not the primary focus. 

It also surged a desire to protect the planet. The knowledge that we need clean water and air. Educational shows like Magic School Bus and Bill Nye explained what is happening in the environment long before Global Warming became political. With the global shut in we see the world cleansing itself. 

Now the marijuana legalization issue. No one has died from overdosing on weed. Unlike Alcohol. Yes smoke isn’t good for your health like cigarettes, but the complications are not as prevalent, well studied, or as life threatening with what is known. The disconnect of state legalization and national illegalities is mind blowing. I hope to see that break so we can study it.

Overall I know I have seen a lot of historical events and I hope to live another 36 plus years to see more. 3 decades, the change of a century and the change of the millennia. Y2K hysteria included. 

The world is changing. The outcome is unknown. Peace be upon us all.

[transmigraticn]

muggle au headcanons for alwyn because it has been plaguing me all day @metcmpsychcsis

( alwyn has always been lowkey convinced that he’d have been way happier as a muggle, and tbh he’s almost sort-of right )

everything about the reincarnation is the same, just alwyn has no magic. not even in a squib sense, but in a legit muggle sense.

still very much a science / space / alien nerd with a proclivity toward journaling and drawing. but he is also a Computer Nerd. definitely is highkey into technology, like the mechanics of it ( which probably started when the family laptop got busted, or something, and alwyn had to learn how to fix it on his own because they couldn’t afford to get another one or to get it fixed professionally ). definitely knows how to hack to the point where he could scare the government if he wanted to.

most likely gets kicked out of his home earlier, or runs away --- because going away to boarding school in canon gave him the ability to distance himself from his home situation and to keep thinking of it along the lines of ‘i need to take care of my father’ rather than ‘my father is hurting / scaring me’ for much longer. in this case he’s constantly exposed to his father’s behavior and becomes angry at it much quicker. so it’s not unlikely that he’d run away, though even running away would be ignited by his father telling him to get out, no matter how insincere or not it was said.

has. .. like. . . no formal education??? doctor visits when he was younger had him missing school so much to the point where it didn’t make sense to enroll him. he was homeschooled by his mother, but then she died after being in a coma, so he basically taught himself via reading various books on things he was interested in. knows A Lot about some things, and then nothing about others.

speaking of doctors: alwyn is / was probably addicted to some sort-of pain med at some point. because they subscribed it to him and it. . .got. . .out of hand  : /

he has all the memories of albus, but isn’t able to do any magic. honestly, this would actually make alwyn infinitely more highkey into The Cause than he ever is in canon. because in canon he’s completely disenchanted by magic, and doesn’t see it as a solution to anything, which mixes in with his disenchantment of activism because he has decades of memories of advocacy that ended up succeeding in. . . no real change all of which results in him feeling extremely apathetic about the state of society and the world around him ( he just wants to go live in the mountains with his boyfriend and their pets gdi !!! ). and while all of that is still true to an extent, experiencing the magical world from the “outside” would have him become enraged at the fact that there is a separation in the first place. he may not think it would really improve the world, or possess the idealism that Darrel does about it, he just thinks it was a stupid decision that is now unnecessary so they should correct it. the fact that he can contribute to the cause through his hacking, and such skills, which wouldn’t require him to even really leave his bed in some cases. . . also helps with that.

idk how to put this in any better sort-of way so: probably had a couple of “sugar daddies” when he was younger because he had literally no where to go and the only type of “currency” he had to exhange was his sexuality ( or so it felt like ). some of these also probably helped feed his pain med addiction. it was a bad couple of years until alwyn got himself out of it, probably through getting a legit job and gaining some financial security for the first time, ever, in his life somehow.  

i can’t help picturing him working as a comic artist for some low-end, very small paper, as he lives in some equally small and shitty flat.

probably has a couple of strays he lets roam free --- mostly birds ( he definitely sits on the roof and throws seeds for them ) and dogs.

he’s still a Mess, and is sad and lonely and still has an existential crisis every three days, but he’s not burning down the world.

[thewoildis-yaerster]

Abusus Non Tollit Usum

Prologue

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four: Maps

Description: The one where we learn more about Jack and the main plot is introduced.

Warnings:  Swearing (like, maybe one??? maybe??? one swearing???), homophobia.

Notes: I based this chapter a little off of the section of the musical where they find out Pulitzer brought up the price of papers and I had my phone propped up against the laptop screen so I could look at the script. I'm surprised my keyboard still works from the number of times my phone fell and hit it.

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“I couldn’t sleep at all last night.” Race mumbled tiredly, his face buried in Spot’s chest.

“Neither could I. I’m nervous.” Smalls uncomfortably shifted in her computer chair and adjusted her cap to where it was backward.

“I’m sure it’ll be fine, guys.” Specs commented, not sounding entirely sure.

“Specs, c’mon. You’ve been going here as long as the rest of us have. You’re nervous, too.” Buttons replied, attempting to distract himself by watching Cats. Specs huffed and started picking at the exposed wood of the table.

“I wish Albie and Jack would hurry up and get here.” Elmer was sprawled out across both her seat and Albert’s seat, her cap covering her face.

“We could always, you know, work on the newspaper. We are the newspaper club, after all.” Mush suggested.

“Yeah, you can have fun trying to focus on your column.” Finch had their feet propped up on their table and was picking at the skin around their fingernails. Mush rolled their eyes and turned on their computer.

Everyone nearly jumped up when the door to the club room opened. It was David. “Hey, everybody. Sorry, I’m late. I got a little lost again.”

“Has no one given you a map?” Henry questioned.

“We have maps?” Mike and Ike asked in unison.

“I don’t recall being given a map,” David answered.

“I don’t recall there ever being maps.” Katherine joined in.

“Just get Jack to draw you one. He knows this school up and down. He’s had to hide in just about every crevice of this dump.” Henry checked his watch and sighed.

“Hide? Why?”

Everyone stopped what they were doing and stared at him in confusion.

“Wait. You don’t know?” Spot scoffed.

“I guess not.” David raised an eyebrow in equal confusion.

“Jack’s a legend around here! Everyone knows who he is. He was always the one the popular kids would turn to for answers to homework and for paper or pencils, but one summer he came back to school and his entire personality had just flipped. When they discovered they couldn’t just push him over anymore, they started to just not like him. But then he stopped caring about not getting in trouble, and that’s when all hell broke loose. He isn’t the type to just get in trouble for no reason, but if it’s to defend people who can’t defend themselves, then he’s all for it. Hardly any of the students, teachers, and the staff likes him, other than his and Spot’s mother and the ones that agree with his views, so he’s often running away from other kids or adults with nothing better to do.” Crutchie explained excitedly. Whispers broke out through the room and David heard something about “Snyder the Spider.”

“You and Jack are brothers?” David asked Spot.

“Adoptive, yeah.”

“Ah.” You learn something new every day. “So, how has everyone been doing today?”

“Ask me after Albert and Jack get here.” Tommy Boy’s leg was a blur as he bounced it anxiously.

“Where are they?”

“They’re down in the office trying to convince Pulitzer to let us have a GSA,” Sniper answered.

“Is it going to work?”

“Not likely.” Race groaned, turning to face David. He had light bags under his eyes, his piercings weren’t in, and he didn’t have eyeliner on. The others had seen him like that, but it was definitely new to David.

“Come on, guys. We can’t lose hope. I’m sure they’ll come busting through the door any minute now, smiles on their faces, saying-” JoJo got cut off by the door being thrown open.

“It didn’t work!” Jack exclaimed.

“What’d you say!?” Mush jumped out of their chair, nearly knocking Finch over in the process.

“He hardly let us talk!”

“What’d he say?” Specs questioned.

“He said, and I quote, ‘I will not allow that kind of filth contaminate my school. It is disgusting, vile, and sickening. Now, get out of my office before I give both of you detention.’” Albert made his voice deeper to mock Pulitzer.

“He can’t just say that, can he?” Finch then rose out of their chair and walked up to Albert and Jack. One by one, everyone followed.

“Why not? It’s his school.” Race whined hopelessly.

“Don’t we have rights!?” Henry shouted.

“We have the right to suffer. We ought to just get back to work and forget the idea.” Crutchie gestured to his computer.

“After all of that!?”

“Do we have a choice!?”

“Hold on! No one’s forgetting anything.” Jack sat down on a chair at the front of the classroom.

“Do you have an idea?” Tommy Boy threw his arms out.

“Keep your shirt on and let me think!”

“I have my shirt on!”

“Aha! What if we don’t show up to school? That has to hurt them somehow!”

“What? Like a strike?” David spoke up.

“Hey, you heard Davey. We’re on strike!”

“Whoa. I didn’t say-”

“We’re quite a big number here! We could do it!”

“My father wouldn’t even think about letting me stay home for no reason!” Finch argued.

“This isn’t ‘no reason’! Right, Davey?”

“Leave me out of this. I didn’t ask to be here.” David turned to look out of the window.

“Oh, and the rest of us chose this? Just because we’re different doesn’t give anyone the right to treat us like that!”

“It doesn’t matter. You can’t strike.”

“And why is that?”

David let out a laugh in disbelief. “We’re students! Sure, it might put a dent in their perfect system, but if we’re out too many days, our parents will be sent to court! I don’t know about the rest of you, but I personally don’t want that happening! I’m already lying to them about my ribs. I don’t need them going to jail.”

Everyone sighed and thought in silence.

“You have to have an idea, Davey.” Hot Shot’s voice was soft like it was when they saved him from Oscar and Morris a few days before.

David groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose. “…We could protest.” He suggested.

“What’s the difference?” Race raised his hand and asked.

“When you go on strike, you usually stop working altogether, but like I said, we can’t do that. A protest can occur before or after working hours. Hell, you could even protest while working.”

“How do we do that?” Jack questioned. David didn’t respond. “Davey?” David cursed, then walked over and joined the group.

“Here’s what we do. We start out small. We need people on our side. We need adults and kids. We quite literally wear our pride on our sleeve. Head to toe in nothing but pride colors. If any of us can’t safely wear anything like that around our families, then we help each other out. We make a petition. If none of that works, we get the entire neighborhood involved. We show Pulitzer that he can’t just walk all over us. We have rights!”

“Yeah!” Everyone agreed in unison.

“Alright. We might as well start now. Does anyone know any adults we can get on our side?”

Everyone aside from Katherine, Race, Buttons, Romeo, Spot, and Jack shook their heads. Those six smiled at each other, then turned to David. “Miss Medda.”

[ontherockswithsalt]

A Made Man

Jamie and Noble have quite a road ahead of them. The story continues here with Part 3, picking up exactly one week after Jamie’s return to New York. 

Summary:  To accept is to believe in the realness of something. Jamie and Noble find themselves immersed in a reality they’re ready to stop denying. But it’s tangled and difficult and sometimes it’s easier to keep it a secret. 

Part 3 in a series (following The Penthouse and A Guy With A Secret), A Made Man follows Jamie Reagan and Noble Sanfino as they figure out how to accept something that’s anything but simple, but definitely real.

Rating: M (natch)

Chapter 1.

“Who would hate me the most?”

Amused at Noble’s question, the clear, deep note of his voice floating through the speakers of my laptop, I cross my room to put a stack of folded t-shirts away. “No one,” I tell him. “You’re kind of unhateable, man. Why do you assume anyone in my family would hate you?”

“Ahh, lets see--” He starts, as if he’s choosing from a list of reasons.

“Alright, fair enough.” I chuckle. There’s so many layers to this arrangement, to Noble Sanfino and me and our low-key relationship, that I wouldn’t even know where to begin to explain it all to my family. Living thirty years never engaging in anything romantic with a man, never having a boyfriend, never suggesting to my Irish-Catholic family that I might be interested in one would be enough of a shock.

Add to that the fact that this man is someone I met while working undercover -- who’s the son of a pretty prominent capo in one of New York’s deeply rooted Italian crime families -- and it’s not exactly a love story I feel like reminiscing about at Sunday dinner: Yeah, so he has another identity in WITSEC because he and his sister agreed to testify against their whole family -- the one who put a hit out on me, and tried to kill him. And he shouldn’t even try to show his face in New York again, but he does anyway, and we meet up and go to dinner and spend the night together. Aren’t you happy for me, oh family comprised of a seriously intense amount of law enforcement?

So that hasn’t happened yet.

With his computer in his kitchen, I see him making trips back and forth to the refrigerator before he stations himself at the counter to continue his chopping task. The distinct sound of his knife rhythmically slicing down onto his cutting board pauses for a moment with his next question. “Would your sister like me?” He wonders.

A half smile slants on my face as I consider it. “Yes. She’d be pretty sympathetic about what you had to go through. And I’m sure she’d be very... encouraging.”

“How so?”

Over a thoughtful deep breath, I ponder it and work to sort through the pile of laundry on my bed. “Of us. Not wanting me to miss out on something because I was, you know, scared to act on it. Plus she’d think you’re hot.”

“Nice,” he says appreciatively.

“And Danny wouldn’t hate you at all.”

“No?”

“He lives to bust my chops, so just side with him and you’ll be golden.”

We talk as if he’s going to meet my family sooner than later. But it’s more like we’re imagining, building a little world in the abstract someday where boy meets boy, boy falls for boy, boy brings boy home to meet Dad, and we get some kind of happy ending. It won’t happen, so I’d rather have the partial satisfaction of fantasizing about it instead.

“He’s probably the one I’d be most nervous about,” Noble admits.

“Nah,” I dismiss it. “Danny’s a softy when it comes down to it. If you’re gonna be nervous about anyone, it should be my dad.”

He groans. “Oh right. Your dad was in on that whole take-down, wasn’t he?”

“I mean, technically he’s in on everything.”

“How high up in the ranks is your dad, by the way?”

The question makes me pause before I slowly slide the dresser drawer closed. Scratching fingertips along my jaw, I turn back to face the laptop screen and ease onto my bed. “Pretty high up,” I laugh.

“Great,” he complains, sliding some sort of chopped vegetables off his cutting board and into a container before moving onto the next one.

I drag the computer onto my lap and sink down against my pillows. “He’s the Commissioner. Of the NYPD.” It feels weird to tell him because I never know what kind of significance that title holds for people who aren’t immersed in this cop life. “I don’t think I ever told you.”

His brows draw together and he narrows his gaze. “Like… what does that mean exactly?”

“The Commissioner is just… the one who oversees the whole department.”

“So he’s in charge.”

“Yeah.”

“Of the entire police department. Of New York City.”

I nod. “Yeah.”

“Dude.”

“I know. Don’t get hung up on it, though, it’s okay.”

“So… he’s like the don of the NYPD.”

A loud laugh rumbles in my chest and I tip back against the pillows. “If you want to think of it that way.”

“If the NYPD were the Italian mafia.” He chuckles. “Would that comparison not go over so well with him?”

“Yeah, I don’t know. When you meet him, give it a try,” I joke. “See what happens.”

“I’ll pass.”

“Speaking of, I need to head over there for dinner soon.”

He finishes up at the sink, dries off his hands on a dish towel and then turns to lean against the counter. “I bet they missed you last week.”

“Something tells me I’m going to catch heat for it, too.”

“Tell them you were getting your dick sucked by this hot landscaper in Miami--”

Swinging my arm across my face, I shake my head into the bend of my elbow. “Oh my god,” I groan.

“No. We did more than that. Don’t cheapen it.”

I just let my shoulders shake with weary laughter.

“See, I don’t have that problem,” he muses. “We managed to tell my whole family in one easy confession. Boom, done.”

My arm falls back down and I look at him on the screen, my lips flicking upward with a sad smile.

He’s right. Bianca is all he has anymore, a jarring one-eighty from the life he had, surrounded by dozens of people who considered him family, the ones who came out for him when he opened his restaurant back in New York, proud and even gracious toward me. To have that your whole life, then lose it entirely is something I can’t fathom.

“Yeah I guess your sister is a good one to have around.”

“I’m having dinner with her tonight,” he says. “I’m sure she misses you.”

“What about you, huh?” I murmur.

I see the little quirk at this lips as he scratches fingers at the back of his dark wavy hair. “I miss you.” His voice gets sort of cute. Not sickenly so, but if there was someone else who overheard him, they’d certainly notice the shift in his tone. The low softness of it swells in my chest and makes it ache for a moment. “But you know that.”

“I miss you too,” I tell him.

“I’ll make you uncomfortable during dinner and text you explicit descriptions of the things I miss--”

With a knowing smirk, I nod in acceptance. “I bet you will.”

“So keep your phone on silent.” He directs a raised eyebrow at me with his warning and it amuses me.

“Why don’t you save it for when I get back home and we can talk later tonight?”

“Because I’m trying to achieve Jamie Reagan-level tease status. Some of us have to work at it.”

I laugh, already feeling the simmering pulse he’s able to elicit and it’s only going to heighten until I talk to him again. “Alright, you work at it. I’ll let you know how you do.”

[quicksilversquared]

How to Fake a Marriage (Chapter 3)

Adrien Agreste is excited to go to London to get a degree in Physics- but he’s less excited about the ridiculous list of rules his father keeps giving him, especially since it’s clear that his father doesn’t trust his judgement at all. So what better way to rebel than to fake a wedding with one of his friends as soon as he gets to London? 

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10

(AO3) (FF.net)

Nino let out a groan as he stumbled to the kitchen table. He hated Mondays, mostly because he hadn't yet broken his habit of staying up far too late on the weekends and so his sleeping schedule got thrown off. He was basically sleepwalking as he slumped into his chair and opened his laptop to peruse his Facebook feed while Alya toasted bread for their breakfast.

"What's new?" Alya called over her shoulder as she poured herself a cup of coffee. "Anything interesting?"

Nino scanned the page with sleepy eyes, brain not quite comprehending the words in front of him yet. He needed his coffee first. "Uh. Ivan and Mylène posted new photos, Alex challenged Kim to a race, Nathaniel shared a drawing, Adrien changed his status to 'Married to Marinette Dupain-Cheng', Rose joined a scrapbooking club, Marinette-"

Alya choked and spat out her coffee all over the counter. "WHAT?"

Nino blinked up, puzzled at the scene in front of him. Coffee was dripping from the kitchen counter and had drenched the toast Alya had already made. "Huh?"

"What was that last one?" Alya demanded.

Nino consulted his computer, puzzled. "Rose joined a scrapbooking club?"

"No, before that!"

Nino looked again. "'Adrien changed his status to 'Married to Marinette Dupain-Cheng'- WHAT?" Nino exclaimed, suddenly awake as he jolted in his seat and stared at his computer screen in shock. "He did what?"

"He must just be kidding," Alya said as she hurried over to Nino's side. "What does Mari's profile say?"

Nino clicked on a few links as he maneuvered to Marinette's page and then he squinted at it. "Her status says...Married to Adrien Agreste. She changed her photo, too. Look."

Alya gaped as she plopped down in the seat next to Nino. Marinette's Facebook page had changed drastically from the previous day. Her cover photo, previously of the London skyline, had changed to a photo with her, Adrien, and three other girls and three guys. Marinette was wearing a blue wedding dress and Adrien wore a tux, and the others were just as dressed up. Marinette had a bouquet of white flowers in one hand. Her profile picture was a close-up of her and Adrien in their wedding attire.

That was definitely not photoshopped.

Adrien's page looked almost exactly the same as Marinette's. He used slightly different photos, though, and his profile photo was of him dipping Marinette into what was possibly the most romantic kiss they had ever seen.

"Bro," Nino said in absolute disbelief as Alya clicked through Adrien's posted photos. There were photos that had clearly been taken throughout the wedding, including one that had him and Marinette signing something and looking very cuddly as they did so.

"I can't believe it," Alya said, pausing on the photo. She looked like she was about to murder someone. "They actually got married. They signed a wedding license. What were they thinking? And why couldn't they even wait long enough to invite us and Marinette's parents?"

"Babe-"

"I DID NOT BUST MY BUTT TRYING TO SET THEM UP FOR YEARS ON END JUST FOR THEM TO ELOPE AND NOT INVITE ME TO THEIR WEDDING!"

  Gabriel didn't check in on his son until two o'clock on Monday. He pulled up Adrien's Facebook page, expecting to see a couple new pictures of the apartment, maybe a status update on how the move went.

He was not expecting to see Adrien dressed in a tuxedo, standing next to a girl in a wedding dress and with the rest of a wedding party around them.

Gabriel gaped at the pictures as his brain shut down and refused to work. After a second, he scrolled down frantically, looking for some sort of explanation that would tell him that Adrien had gotten caught up in some elaborate ruse of some sort.

Instead, Adrien's most recent post read, "Just ran into her yesterday and we decided we had to get married! 3"

Gabriel's jaw dropped and he stared, mind stalling out. No. No way. There was absolutely no way.

"Are you okay, sir?" Nathalie asked as she entered the room with a pile of papers. She frowned when she saw Gabriel's mouth hanging open as he stared blankly at his computer screen. "Sir?"

"He got married," Gabriel said in disbelief after a long pause. "He got married to someone he hadn't even known for twenty-four hours."

That got Nathalie's attention and she hurried over to join Gabriel, dropping the forms on her desk as she did. "Who did?"

"Adrien did!" Gabriel gestured to the computer, tone starting to turn just a bit hysterical. "Look, he posted the photos! He didn't even said anything to me first, or I would have put a stop to it!"

"Tha...that was probably why he didn't say anything, sir," Nathalie managed. She was absolutely stunned as well. She had known Adrien for years and he had never seemed the impulsive type. His escapes, from everything from going to public school to slipping away from his bodyguard to go to a movie, were planned out in advance. He had a plan for everything, and he almost always considered the possible long-term consequences for his actions.

Getting married the day after moving to another country to a girl that he had only just met was decidedly out of character, to say the least.

"I need to get over there now," Gabriel decided, slapping the desk and bringing her attention back to him. "Nathalie, find plane tickets for both of us. We're going to go over there, figure out what's going on, and bring Adrien back. Oh, I knew this was a bad idea..."

Nathalie watched as Gabriel clutched at his hair, launching himself out of his desk chair and pacing back and forth across the room. As he started spinning in panicked circles, Nathalie turned her attention to Adrien's Facebook page. She couldn't spot any obvious signs of Photoshop having been used on the photos, and there were enough pictures that Nathalie strongly doubted that they were fake. The same photos were on the girl's page, and a dive a little deeper into her archives showed that the account wasn't at all new and that it was the same girl in both the wedding photos and in the earlier photos.

Nathalie bit her lip as her stomach filled with nerves. She had been hoping to find some sort of evidence that the photos were faked, but the evidence was piling up that Adrien had, in fact, gotten married after being in London for not even a day. The photos showed absolutely no evidence of photoshopping (and after years of working as Gabriel's personal assistant, Nathalie knew full well what to look for), the girl's account wasn't a fake either.

This was bad. This was very bad. Even ignoring how out of character this seemed for Adrien- was there some sort of blackmail involved? Coercion?- this was bad. The wedding would have all sorts of consequences that Nathalie was positive that Adrien wouldn't be able to handle. The cost to put it all together so quickly must have been absolutely staggering. The dresses and tuxes by themselves must have cost a pretty penny, considering that they were obviously designer, and what were the chances that Adrien had thought to rent the pieces instead of buying them? And on top of that they would have had to rush order the minister, the flowers the cake, the photographer, and reserve the clearly private garden.

Last minute rush orders for things like that did not come cheap. Nathalie knew that well after arranging for far too many last-minute changes for Gabriel photoshoots. And she doubted that Adrien's new wife had paid for any of it. Adrien had probably just volunteered to cover everything, bleeding heart that he was, and the little gold-digger had probably just happily accepted it.

Nathalie groaned as she returned to Adrien's page and saw a brand new post on the top. This one had a video and a caption of "Some wonderful people took a video of our special day so we could share it with everyone who wasn't there! Apologies for not inviting friends and family back in Paris, but we just couldn't wait! 3".

Nathalie was tempted to strangle Adrien the next time she saw him. Of all the irresponsible things...

She could already foresee the headaches sorting out this whole mess would cause.

  The Dupain-Chengs had not been expecting their daughter to call them up Sunday morning with the news that she was getting married to her collège crush. She had explained that it was fake right off the bat, of course, but still. Unexpected.

And also very, very amusing.

Marinette had sent them updates via text all day Sunday as their little 'fake wedding at the courthouse' turned into 'impromptu ceremony in a garden complete with wedding dress'. Her parents had become more and more amused as things got more and more complicated.

"Ooh, they got some really nice photos," Sabine said gleefully as she opened the folder of photos Marinette had uploaded to her Facebook Monday morning. "Ooh, look at her dress! I can't believe her boss let her borrow that. It's gorgeous."

"She should ask if she can borrow it in the future when she and the boy get married for real," Tom said with a grin, leaning over Sabine's shoulder to get a better look at the photos. "It looks good on her. Are you texting her? Tell her I send my compliments to whoever did her hair."

"It does look really nice," Sabine agreed, sending the message. "And her makeup as well! Of course Marinette did say that her boss called in some of the company's hair and makeup people."

"Mmm." Tom grinned at the series of photos of Adrien and Marinette's dip kiss. "Aww, so cute!"

"I'm downloading all of these," Sabine claimed with a grin. "All of them. And my phone background is going to be this picture, right here. They look so into that kiss."

"I'm posting my congratulations," Tom said, grin spreading even further across his face as he reached for the computer. "Be the proud dad that doesn't question his daughter's decisions at all. It'll confuse everyone."

Sabine giggled as she gave up the computer so Tom could type comments for each of the photos. He started with the cover photo and Marinette's profile photo before putting little proud comments on every photo in the wedding album. With another mischievous grin, Tom headed over to Adrien's profile and posted a few "I can't wait to meet my son-in-law!" comments on his page as well for good measure.

"So how long do you give them before they get married for real?" Sabine asked as they closed the computer and washed their hands before heading back into the bakery. "Two years? Three?"

"You really think it'll take that long?"

  Marinette and Adrien were having a very amusing day.

Texts, emails, and phone calls had been pouring from friends and family alike all day, ever since they posted the photos and changed their Facebook status. They gleefully ignored them, letting the confusion increase in favor of pretending they were too busy "honeymooning" to respond.

Of course, they were actually both working for Madam Rosalie- Marinette as an intern, and Adrien in the office filing paperwork as thanks for all of the help Madam Rosalie had supplied- but no one needed to know that.

"Oh, I got a comment from your dad!" Adrien said with a grin when they checked their Facebooks over lunch. "He said, 'I can't wait to meet my son-in-law! Lovely photos!' Nice man. I'm glad I have him as a fake father-in-law."

Marinette giggled. "Ooh, I wonder what Alya and Nino made of that."

Adrien grinned. "Oh, I bet their faces would be precious." He let out a snort at another comment and continued scrolling down. "I'm actually kind of concerned how many people I know actually think I would up and get married to a random person I supposedly met not even a day prior. I mean, I can kind of understand some of our friends from collège and lycée believing us since they know that we knew each other, but I'm getting congratulations from my photographer and a bunch of the models I work with, too...and from the Gorilla? Seriously? I thought he would know me better than that. I thought that he would recognize you for sure."

Marinette peered over his shoulder at his phone. "Any word from your father yet?"

Adrien shook his head. "Nope. I'm guessing that he's been too busy to check my Facebook yet. I'm sure I'll know the minute he sees it."

"What have you been doing for Madam Rosalie?" Marinette asked, changing the subject. "I haven't seen you all morning!"

"Oh, I've been neglecting you, my princess!" Adrien exclaimed grandly with a wide grin, grasping Marinette's hand and planting a kiss on her knuckles with a deep bow. "What kind of man does that to his brand-new fake wife?"

Marinette snickered.

"I've been putting my business degree to work and doing some paperwork for her," Adrien said with a little wince, releasing her hand and straightening back up again. "It's not my favorite thing ever, but it's not particularly difficult either. I'm just glad that she's letting me do something for in return for all the help she gave us yesterday. I'm sure she lost a bit of time getting that all set up for us."

"That was insane," Marinette agreed with a groan. "Everything really looked fantastic, though. I'm glad she helped out, even if it did take up several more hours of my weekend than I had planned for it to."

"I'm really sorry about dragging you into all of this," Adrien apologized immediately with a grimace. "I didn't expect for it to take so long either-"

"Really, it's fine," Marinette said hurriedly, before Adrien could get too far into his apologies. She had learned long ago that he had a tendency to overthink and get too worried about offending or inconveniencing others, and it was best to make sure that he didn't get too caught up in his (often unnecessary) concern. "I had fun, I really did. I would've just watched cooking show reruns all afternoon if I hadn't run into you."

"And quite literally as well," Adrien said, grinning and pressing his lips to Marinette's hand again. She groaned at the joke and pushed his face away with a finger on his nose. "Shall we get back to work?"

"I suppose."

  Shortly after two, Adrien's phone lit up again. He glanced at it briefly before going back to his work sorting through the pile of forms on Marinette's desk, certain that it was probably just Nino or Alya again. And then it lit up again.

And again.

And again.

"Ah, I think Father maybe has noticed my Facebook post," Adrien said mildly as the texts continued to pile up, along with several missed calls. "And Nathalie has as well, it seems."

"Oh, great," Marinette said, appearing in the doorway. She set a fresh stack of papers down at the end of the desk. "Did the trick work?"

"It did. I'm almost a little offended that he honestly thinks that I would be stupid enough to marry someone I just met," Adrien said, watching his phone as the string of texts kept piling up. "And Nathalie believes me as well! Do none of my father's staff actually know me well enough to know that I would never do that? And never mind that, don't any of them remember you? I could understand my dad not recognizing you, but Nathalie and the Gorilla both met all of my friends loads of times."

Marinette giggled. "Are you still getting texts from Nino and Alya as well?"

"I don't even know. Father is burying everything in his freak-out texts and I had stopped checking earlier. If I looked at my messages every time I got a new one, I wouldn't get anything done." Adrien grinned as he set the phone aside and pulled Marinette down into his lap for a hug. "How long should we let him simmer before we let him know we were kidding?"

Marinette bit her lip, thinking for a long second. "A day? I feel like any longer and he would freak out enough that the tabloids would catch on."

Adrien snickered. Marinette gave him a look.

"We don't need the tabloids trying to report on our nonexistent marriage," Marinette scolded him, though her lips were twitching in amusement. "They would never leave us alone again and I'd like to be able to complete my internship in peace, thank you very much."

"Ah, fair enough." Adrien checked his phone again before tucking it away out of sight. Really, this was the best reaction he could have hoped for. He had been a bit worried that his father would see right through him and render the whole effort useless, but it seemed that his concerns had been completely unfounded. "So, do you think my father will be able to get a plane over today, or is it late enough in the day that he won't be able to get a flight until tomorrow?"

  "What on earth could he have been thinking?" Gabriel exclaimed for the millionth time the next morning, more frustrated and impatient now that he was stuck on a plane and couldn't pace and shout without attracting attention from the other passengers. Gabriel Agreste didn't do attracting judging stares from strangers. He gestured to the photos filling Adrien's Facebook page yet again, as though Nathalie hadn't seen them a dozen times before. "He only knew her for a few hours! Oh, I knew I shouldn't have let him go off on his own..."

Nathalie, who had recognized Marinette Dupain-Cheng quite easily after the initial shock had finally worn off (several hours after initially seeing the post, but she wasn't about to admit that), didn't bother to correct Gabriel. She had analyzed the photos and Adrien's post again once her head was clearer (and then she headed back over to Marinette's Facebook page to check it against Adrien's again) and come to the conclusion that it was simply an elaborately staged prank. Adrien's wording was a little too perfect at suggesting he hadn't known Marinette for long when in reality they had known each other for years, and Marinette's page said nothing about only knowing Adrien for a few hours. Still, Nathalie wasn't going to alert Gabriel to her suspicions. She might be wrong, after all.

(Besides, Gabriel had gone a little overboard in his list of Do's and Do Not's for his son and watching his cool demeanor melt to pieces was amusing. As long as this was a prank, Nathalie heartily approved.)

(And, well, even if it wasn't…Miss Dupain-Cheng seemed to be quite a nice young lady, and she and Adrien had known each other for a while. It would be weird for them to skip over dating to go straight to marriage, but it wouldn't be the disaster Nathalie had initially assumed it would be.)

"I should have checked his page earlier in the day yesterday," Gabriel groaned, falling back in his seat with a thud. Thankfully the other passengers in first class had long since decided to ignore them. "Then we could have actually gotten a flight yesterday instead of having to wait."

Nathalie didn't respond. She personally didn't think the twenty hour delay would really make that much of a difference- after all, if Adrien was in fact married, there was nothing they could do about it now; if not, they had wasted money on airline tickets for nothing but it wasn't as though Gabriel's budget couldn't handle the cost. Adrien hadn't responded to the texts she had sent before they boarded the plane, giving him a heads-up that she and his father were coming.

Of course, Adrien could have responded while they were stuck in the plane. Nathalie wouldn't know for sure until the plane landed and she could turn her phone back on. Not having service was making her twitchy.

"Or we could have driven to London instead," Gabriel said, shifting anxiously in his seat and tapping his fingers restlessly against the armrest. "It would have been, what? Five hours, six hours?"

"Slightly over six with good traffic," Nathalie said without looking up. "And no offense, sir, but you get impatient enough on a one-hour plane ride even when Adrien isn't doing stupid things. You hate car rides longer than half an hour."

Gabriel grumbled under his breath and slumped in his seat. He corrected his posture a moment later and pulled out a notebook, stress doodling on a blank page. He didn't say much for the rest of the flight, though he did mutter under his breath quite a bit. As soon as they landed and had stopped at the gate, Gabriel was up and headed for the door, leaving Nathalie to snag their bags from the overhead bins before hurrying after him.

Gabriel powerwalked through the airport, sending people scattering to get out of his way. He summoned a cab with a couple sharp words (because Gabriel Agreste did not take public transportation, no matter how much cabs cost), and soon they were zipping off towards the neighborhood Adrien's apartment was in. Nathalie turned on her phone as soon as she was settled in her seat and frantically flipped through the messages that had piled up. All of them were work-related, most from having to reschedule the few meetings that Gabriel absolutely had to attend and that had been abruptly canceled and a few other messages from the inters that she had selected to attend other meetings and take notes for Gabriel to review later. With a sign, Nathalie finished scanning through them and stuck her phone back in her pocket. The meetings could wait; after all, she didn't know for sure how soon they would be able to head back to Paris.

Nathalie pulled her phone back out as it let out another chime, the custom one she had set up just for messages from Adrien. She raised her eyebrows at the dual texts from Adrien- 'Just made new Facebook post' and 'At Madam Rosalie's fashion business'- before setting the phone aside and navigating to Adrien's page on her tablet. He had posted another photo, set in the same park as before, and with the same wedding party as before. This time, there were more people in the photo, including quite a few in streetwear, and a woman Nathalie recognized as Madam Rosalie. The caption read: 'Thanks to everyone who helped us pull off the impromptu wedding! In case you haven't already guessed, it was completely fake. I'm slightly concerned by how many people thought we weren't kidding though! :D'.

Nathalie was torn between letting out a huff of exasperation and a relieved sigh at the confirmation that Adrien had not lost all of his common sense after all. She suspected that the timing of the prank reveal probably wasn't coincidental; after all, the best way to stop Gabriel from going on a rampage through London looking for his son was to come clean. She suspected that Adrien probably had anticipated this exact reaction from his father and had pulled the prank with the intention of provoking him, but she wasn't about to admit that to Gabriel.

"Adrien has posted something new on Facebook, sir," Nathalie said, holding out her tablet a bit gingerly. Mr. Agreste probably wouldn't break it in frustration. Probably. Hopefully. "You might want to read it."

"More photos with his new wife?" Still, Gabriel took the tablet without complaint, though there was a deep scowl on his face. "He should know better, she's probably some gold-digging floozy- oh."

Nathalie allowed her lips to twitch upwards before resuming her professionally blank expression.

"Ha-ha, very funny." Gabriel sounded completely unamused. "Very mature."

"They did a really good job setting it up," Nathalie said. It was impressive, really, even if it did look like most of the crew involved were involved in fashion and were probably used to staging things for photoshoots and runway shows. They were probably used to setting things up and making them look convincing on short notice.

"I suppose." Gabriel still didn't sound impressed and the scowl was still in place, though it was somewhat diminished. "I still fail to see why it was necessary."

Nathalie really didn't think it was that difficult to figure out. "Adrien probably decided to rebel against all of the rules you set for him. Technically, you didn't forbid him from getting married. Or from pretending to get married." She glanced back down at her phone and leaned forward to tap the cab driver's shoulder. "Change of destination to Rosalie Fashions. Adrien sent me a text," she explained to Gabriel.

"Right." Gabriel handed her tablet back over to her and settled back into his seat, displeased expression still firmly in place. "Let's go talk to my son."

  It was shortly after noon on Tuesday when Nino picked Alya up from work for a quick picnic in the park. As expected, Alya immediately dove back into their discussion about Adrien and Marinette, picking up right where they had left off that morning.

"I wish we could have gone over to Tom and Sabine's bakery," Alya grumbled as Nino spread out their blanket on the grass. "Did you see Tom's comments on Marinette's page? He was totally fine with Marinette getting married in a foreign country with absolutely no warning!"

"I'm guessing that either Marinette called him beforehand or he already had words with her but wanted to put up a positive front in public view," Nino said reassuringly, hoping to get Alya to calm down. The surprise marriage was all Alya had talked about ever since they had seen the post, and Tom Dupain's comments had only served to add fuel to the fire. Alya was absolutely speechless that Marinette's parents didn't seem to have any problem with it, as was Nino. It was just weird. "Or he didn't want to create bad blood with them. Maybe they'll have another ceremony in Paris so we can actually go in person and see them instead of watching a video."

The video, which had dispelled all doubts about the legitimacy of the photos. It had been a lovely ceremony, no doubt, which made Nino wonder how on earth they had pulled that off on such short notice. Adrien didn't know anyone there besides Marinette and Marinette had only been there for a short while, so they couldn't have possibly made that many connections already. Maybe they had gone to a wedding planner. Nino wouldn't put it past Adrien; his best friend was a romantic at heart and would no doubt want the best for his bride, even if he had to pay a ton to get things done on such short notice.

Also, Nino wasn't completely convinced that Adrien was used to being concerned about money. Since Adrien came from such a rich family, he never seemed to flinch at the cost of anything. Hopefully Marinette could help him get better at managing his money before Adrien accidentally spent himself into a hole.

"And he posted on Adrien's page, too! Calling him his son-in-law! Did you see that?" Alya was on a roll. "And a bunch of models from Gabriel were commenting and congratulating him! For eloping! Some of them thought that he had only known Marinette for a day and they still thought it was super cool!"

"Models are cray-cray." Nino had thought that was weird, too, but maybe eloping with people they just met was normal behavior in the model world. He wouldn't know. He had only accompanied Adrien to a couple photoshoots before, and they had been ages ago. He hadn't really talked to many on the models there besides Adrien either.

"And I still can't get a response out of either of them!" Alya finished indignantly. "What are they doing?"

"Do you really want to know?" Nino asked dryly. If Marinette and Adrien had just gotten married, they could very well have decided to have an express staycation honeymoon before Adrien's orientation for classes started on Wednesday. He would rather not think about it. After all, it was their best friends that they were talking about. He didn't want to know what they were or weren't getting up to.

"I want to know what's going on! How on earth could they go for years and years knowing each other and not dating and then they just happen to bump into each other in London and decide to get married right off the bat? It's absolutely crazy!"

Nino's phone beeped with an alert and he pulled it out as Alya continued to grumble. A new Facebook post had shown up on his feed, so he clicked on it as Alya snarled about the injustices of the shotgun wedding. Another photo of Marinette and Adrien's wedding came up, filled with the whole wedding party and a handful of other people, including...Marinette's boss?

Confused, Nino scrolled down to see the caption.

"'Thanks to everyone who helped us pull off the impromptu wedding! In case you haven't already guessed, it was completely fake. I'm slightly concerned by how many people thought we weren't kidding though!' Smiley face. What the hell, Adrien?" Nino exclaimed, cutting across whatever Alya was saying. "What made him think that that was a good idea?"

Alya froze mid-sentence, her hands paused mid-gesture. "What?"

"It was a fake! Adrien just made a post about it." Nino passed his phone over to her. "That jerk! That's a crazy prank."

"Ooh! I can't believe them!" Alya was still steaming, even as Nino chuckled over the prank. It was really clever, now that he thought about it, and wow had they ever executed it well. He had absolutely zero idea how Adrien had managed to pull that off within 24 hours of getting to London. There were just so many details, from the dress and tux and flowers to the cleric and the flower gardens, all without alerting the press. Alya had figured out the previous night that the wedding party was made up of assorted people that Marinette worked with (a fact that irritated Alya to no end, since she should have been the Maid of Honor), so they probably had been easy to get a hold of, but the cleric? The garden? The designer dresses?

Absolutely insane. Nino wasn't believing anything Adrien ever said ever again. Or anything Marinette said either, the jerk.

"And I can't believe I fell for it!" Alya stormed. "Ugh, those jerks!"

"They were probably primarily trying to prank Adrien's father," Nino pointed out. Now that he knew that the wedding wasn't real, it hadn't taken him long at all to put the pieces together. Adrien had been grumbling about his father's crazy restrictions for forever, so of course he would probably take the opportunity to pretend that he had smashed those restrictions into pieces the second he was gone. It was completely hilarious.

….well, okay, he was still a little concerned about how much Adrien had spent on the fake wedding, but other than that it was completely hilarious.

That helped diffuse some of Alya's anger. A grin lit up her face. "Oh, man. What I would give to have been in the room when Gabriel saw that first post. He must have flipped, oh my god."

Nino snickered at the mental picture.

"I can't actually believe that they pranked Adrien's father," Alya snorted. "Oh, that's hilarious. But they're still not completely forgiven," she added. "They pranked us, too. They could have at least given us a heads up like they clearly did for Marinette's parents!"

Nino shrugged, still cackling away. As far as he was concerned, the whole thing was completely hilarious. There was no harm, no foul-

"Oh, shoot," Alya said suddenly, interrupting his thoughts as she suddenly lunged across the blanket for her phone, eyes wide and a slightly panicked expression on her face. "Oh shoot oh shoot oh shoot oh no-"

"What's wrong?" Nino asked, completely baffled as Alya brought up her text messenger on her phone and frantically started scrolling through the messages she had sent. "I'm sure if you said anything rude, Marinette and Adrien will understand it was just said in the heat of the moment."

"No, no- I mean, yeah, I said a couple rude things, but that's not what I'm worried about." Alya tapped Adrien's contact and scrolled up the wall of texts she had sent. "I, uh, might have sent a text to Adrien earlier on basically saying that I had tried to set the two of them up for years, so I was very offended that they didn't even invite me or let me know what was going on. And, uh, if they didn't actually get married, then Marinette probably didn't confess at all and, uh, I just outed her to Adrien by accident."

[diegest]

2010 V.S. 2019

Age 15 and almost 25

(This is long a messy but I wanted to make some kind of post about it before the year ends.)

I was making a stink face bc my then best-friend was over and said something funny before she took the picture and afterwards we busted out laughing. We were at my then step-dads parents house out in the country walking down to their creek either just getting done swimming in their pool or intending to get in it after going to the creek.

I was most likely a freshmen or sophomore at the time of this picture. (Probably right before sophomore year started...) It was definitely during Summer. I either had a flip Nokia phone or an LG Neon at the time as I upgraded from one to the other. I had my first “job.” I was a veterinary assistant after school for a few hours a day and did some work out there during Summer as well. I wasn’t paid and used my time as a volunteer to play with animals, hold them down for simple procedures, walked dogs, and it helped me gauge whether or not I wanted to actually pursue being a veterinarian. I had competed in track for 6 years in a row by this point and was probably finished with it by the time this picture was taken. (Two Elementary School leagues, all three years of Middle School, freshmen year of High School). I was crushing HARDCORE on my childhood best friend whom I’ve known since the age of 6 but neither of us could handle our feelings for the other and things would become super awkward until we had actually dated 7 years later. I was tan as hell because of track practice, walking to both pools in town, and walking to Sonic with friends during sleepovers.

I was struggling trying to find my identity as a teenager while maintaining being in the middle of my parents joint custody battle and being forced to be 100 miles away from my friends two weekends out of the month. I was a cynical older sister of two step-brothers and did not use my time with them as wisely as I wish I could have, sometimes being a real bitch to them looking back at it. I had no control over my hair color or length and remember desperately wanting to layer it to look like a scene kid despite how naturally thin it is. I had just started dabbling in eye liner (not pictured, as I preferred and still prefer my poolside activities over makeup), wore converse every day I wasn’t wearing flip flops for the season, wore baggy jeans, the same Paramore hoodie daily, and had an extreme creative drive that I miss deeply. I was bullied horribly for my teeth, nose, skin (I had terrible eczema that pool water, cortisone shots, and Summer weather in general helped tremendously with!), height, cup size, fashion, hobbies, having split parents, and then some. My metabolism was extremely high and I was in my athletic prime. I had a touch of internet fame by drawing my own personal characters on deviantArt.com as well as fan art for games and shows I was super into using my first Wacom tablet on my first laptop and to this day still have a folder of fan art created for me on my computer. I was obsessed with cats, rock music, anime, and drawing. I could drive a boat and got both a high five as well as scolded for that time I flipped myself into the water to retrieve my dads hat while we were going full speed over white-caps because I was too impatient for him to circle around and wanted to impress him and the rest of the family. I was for the most part unafraid of most things.

I was secretly extremely depressed and suicidal during the school year to the point I had missed my period for 5 months because of stress alone and I’m certain at the time this picture was taken, I was almost breathing a sigh of relief I was off from school for the summer. I had a close knit group of friends still before it had combust the following school year. I was “working” as a veterinary assistant but also had interests in pursuing being an animator, art director, cartoonist, children’s book illustrator, or graphic designer by this point and my mom encouraged me to pursue whatever I was comfortable with. I wasn’t really boy crazy like my friends were, instead having my heart set on one in particular and probably still having a soft spot for my ex whom I was with for 3 years prior. My bedroom contained my artwork, sports posters, cat posters, band posters, and trophies/medals from my days running track. My friend and I, though not legally allowed to drive, would occasionally sneak to Taco Bell using her parents car if they weren’t home and we never got caught or pulled over for it. My grades were A’s and B’s, though I could not pay attention in History to save my life because I was too preoccupied with doodling on my papers and ignoring this asshole who was two classes above me who had called me ugly but then admitted he liked me at one time because of my attitude?? He’s still an idiot from what I’ve heard only he’s an idiot who knocked up a few women post-high school, is apparently married now, and no surprise to me - is still stuck in that same small town with no goal to go anywhere outside of it.

I was scared of the outside world beyond my small town and had no idea how rough it would get for me. The family issues and my trip to family court had not happened yet. I had yet to become estranged from my family. I was small and awkward as hell. I struggled to hold conversations or make eye contact unless it was with people I felt most familiar with since people were kinda fucking mean. I could argue back but would immediately break down and cry from the interaction at the first chance I’d get. I’d use books, art, and video games for the escapism. Life felt scary and fragile and so very uncertain but at least I had a few individuals in the world whom I loved so much and who I know loved me.

I’m 24 now. I’m now in control over my own hair cut and color. I choose to keep it long as I didn’t even like the way it looked short when I finally chopped it as a teenager. It’s been red, reddish blonde, blonde on top and brown on the bottom, dark brown to blonde ombré, and now platinum blonde with my natural color as a shadow root and I quite like it. I don’t really dabble in makeup unless it’s for an occasion except for covering up my acne as my body decided that having zero acne in my teen years was just too good for me while I was battling eczema instead. I’m not nearly as tan or athletic as I’m forced to be inside at most times. I still love to swim though and I take every opportunity to go to my childhood beach during the Summer when I can in particular. I still don’t consider myself to be family-oriented despite this year really challenging that for me. I have a ton of amazing friends and people who care about me and feel like recently in particular, I’m always busy with someone doing something and making memories as we do whatever.

I have a bachelors in Psychology and a minor in Art, though I did not pursue a masters in art therapy like I had originally intended. I was heavily burnt out from school and my baby brothers worsening medical conditions and the news that he had been in a children’s hospital for quite some time with my family deliberately choosing not to tell me made me choose not to pursue one for the time being. I was working at Dairy Queen while technically sharing a lease with my ex before finding a job at a psychiatric hospital that I loved and getting my own apartment to myself and my cat, whom my ex gave to me as he saw she benefited me more than she benefited him. Though I lost that job, I can now say I have two years of field experience in Psychology and almost 6 months worth in social work and feel like I’m always learning something.

I’m not as creative anymore because the years of crippling depression, anxiety, and being forced to create for school absolutely ruined any creativity I had once had. Though occasionally I’ll have the opportunity to channel that creativity into a video game or quick doodle for a child.

I’ve moved to two cities after moving out of my high-school “home” town (not quite home but a good chunk of my upbringing!) and have every intention of doing it again within the next year after I save up some. I don’t take shit from anyone and have taken after the best parts of my moms personality in my opinion with the added benefit of my dads patience and keen eye. I’m known for making people around me comfortable and able to laugh and decompress and have been fortunate enough to use that power professionally. I would like to go back to mental and behavioral health as I miss the thrill and excitement as well as the camaraderie with fellow staff members in the pursuit of helping individuals. I’m very likely starting a new position in my company as early as next week and have been extremely excited about the pay and hour boost. I’ll be getting my dog in just over two weeks and am excited to start our life journey together. Though I had developed my moms serial-monogamist trait for a while there after my 6 year-long relationship had ended in the pursuit of finding someone to fill that gap, I feel very comfortable lately simply being pursued and wanted without the commitment. I’m addicted to sushi bowls, coffee, and chocolate. My passion is helping others. I feel comfortable in my body enough that I would love to pursue modeling of some sort and have been lucky enough to dabble in that a bit already. I also have a bit of a love for fashion now, though I rarely feel the urge to actually properly plan my outfits unless my goal is to dress to impress or for the sake of photography.

I’ve learned to allow myself to enjoy the things I enjoy without the fear of judgement from others. I still love nerd-culture and have somewhat recently taken an interest in cosplay and want to attend more conventions. I’ve learned that it’s an accomplishment for me to have gotten this far, to have my own place, and that it’s alright that I don’t have everything figured out and not everything has to be figured out right away. I don’t have the same best friend I had 10 years ago, but we’re still in contact and I love my current best friend tremendously though I don’t get to see him often. I’ve learned that my current group of friends may be temporary, but while I’m lucky enough to be around them I’m going to do what I can to make them feel as loved and cherished as possible and make plenty of memories. Ivy and I are doing well and I know we will continue doing well even with Atticus by our side. I value traveling way more and will continue to travel and see new things when I’m able to. Eventually I’ll narrow down a Masters program and go back to school when I feel ready. I might even work alongside my brother at some point as we had talked about working on a project together and I’m pretty excited. This is getting really really long oops

I also just look dope as all hell with blonde hair and have gotten the notoriety of being “that blonde girl who wears the leather jacket” and I’m beyond thrilled about this. I’ve come a long way and I’m proud of myself. It’s hard to believe that lanky, tan, dark haired, greasy-headed kid is me but I think she’s come a long long way and I’m genuinely proud of her for doing so and not ending things when she’s had the opportunity. Here’s to 10 more years of careful and concise progress and glow-ups~

[loveismyrevolution]

Did we talk about this parallel...?

TST

TGG

(I don’t know if anyone talked about this earlier, but it just striked me while rewatching S4... my own ramlings an thoughts under the cut...)

So what do we have? Facts first...

The first shot is of the outside of the Wellsborough estate in TST when Sherlock discovers where the Thatcher bust was smashed.

The case:  The “mysterious” death of Charlie Wellsborough, who wanted to surprise his father at his birthday party. But in place of being in Nepal as his parents expected, he happened to die while being hidden inside his car right outside their family home. And besides that it is about the missing Thatcher bust, which in the end leads Sherlock to the A.G.R.A.-device and with that to Mary...

The second shot is of the outside of Andrew West’s flat in TGG, when John was talking to Westies fiancée Lucy!

The case: The case of missing Andrew West, who had to take care of the (top secret) Bruce Partington plans, but fails to protect them and gets killed (by accident) by his brother in law, who wanted to take hold of the plans to use them for his own goods... Andrew is accused to be a traitor, when he is actually a victim here and is been killed instead of having committed suicide.  And beside that the Bruce-Partington-device leads Sherlock to the meeting at the pool with Moriarty... 

But also the conversations connected with the shots are very interessting and are showing certain parallels:

after the first shot (TST):

JOHN: What’s so important about a broken bust of Margaret Thatcher? SHERLOCK (straightening up): Can’t stand it. Never can. There’s a loose thread in the world. JOHN: Yeah, doesn’t mean you have to pull on it. SHERLOCK: What kind of a life would that be? Besides, I have the strangest feeling. (He has a brief flash of James Moriarty looking into the camera over his right shoulder.) JIM: Miss me? (Sherlock shakes the thought away and stands up, pointing to the black cab parked nearby as he walks towards it.) SHERLOCK: That’s mine. You two take a ... bus. JOHN (laughing in disbelief): Why? SHERLOCK: I need to concentrate, and I don’t want to hit you. (He gets in and tells the cabbie his destination.) SHERLOCK: The Mall, please. 

Where did we hear that earlier?? It was in TRF...

DONOVAN: Brilliant work you did, finding those kids from just a footprint. It’s really amazing. SHERLOCK: Thank you. DONOVAN (pointedly): Unbelievable. (Sherlock hesitates momentarily, then continues on. She watches him go with a thoughtful expression. Outside shortly afterwards, John waits for Sherlock to join him and then looks down the street.) JOHN: Ah. (He raises his hand to hail the approaching taxi. As the boys walk to the edge of the kerb, John looks round to Sherlock.) JOHN: You okay? SHERLOCK: Thinking. (The taxi pulls up at the kerb.) SHERLOCK: This is my cab. You get the next one. JOHN: Why? SHERLOCK: You might talk. (He gets in and closes the door and the taxi pulls away. John stares after him in disbelief, then sighs.)

This is the conversation directly after Donovan hinted her disbelief in Sherlock, which started all the doubts in his investigations and deduction and lead to his discredit and him accused to be a fraud!

And also here the conversation after the second shot (in TGG) is quite interessting

WESTIE’S FLAT. John is sitting on the sofa beside Andrew West’s fiancée. He has been there long enough for her to have made them mugs of something which are on the coffee table in front of them. Lucy is upset throughout the ensuing conversation. LUCY: He wouldn’t. He just wouldn’t. JOHN (gently): Well, stranger things have happened. LUCY: Westie wasn’t a traitor. It’s a horrible thing to say! JOHN: I’m sorry, but you must understand that’s ... LUCY: That’s what they think, isn’t it, his bosses? JOHN (nodding): He was a young man, about to get married. He had debts ... LUCY: Everyone’s got debts; and Westie wouldn’t wanna clear them by selling out his country. JOHN: Can you, um, can you tell me exactly what happened that night? LUCY: We were having a night in, just watching a DVD. (She smiles at the memory.) LUCY: He normally falls asleep, you know, but he sat through this one. He was quiet. (She becomes tearful.) LUCY: Out of the blue, he said he just had to go and see someone. JOHN: And you’ve no idea who? (Shaking her head, Lucy begins to cry.)

The first part about Westie being accused to be a traitor is drawing a direct line to the conversation of the first pic... Sherlock being accused to be a fraud...

and the last part strongly reminded me of some other scenes:

1. TGG just before he met Moriarty at the pool

(John has closed the lid of his laptop and now stands up.)

JOHN: I won’t be in for tea. I’m going to Sarah’s. There’s still some of that risotto left in the fridge. SHERLOCK (his eyes still fixed on the TV): Mm! (John stops at the door.) JOHN: Uh, milk. We need milk. SHERLOCK: I’ll get some. JOHN (turning back with a look of disbelief on his face): Really?! SHERLOCK: Really. JOHN: And some beans, then? SHERLOCK (still not looking away from the TV): Mm. (John hesitates, still surprised, but then nods and walks away. Sherlock continues to gaze at the TV until he hears the downstairs door open and close, then he picks up his computer notebook from where it was tucked down beside him. Putting it on his lap and opening the lid, he stares at the message box on The Science of Deduction website before starting to type. Found. The Bruce-Partington plans. Please collect. He lifts his eyes in thought for a moment, then quirks a small smile before returning to his typing. The Pool. Midnight. He sends the message, then closes the lid, gazing thoughtfully into the distance.)

2. TRF after Sherlock and John left Kitty’s flat and he realised what Moriarty was up to

SHERLOCK: He’s been sowing doubt into people’s minds for the last twenty-four hours. There’s only one thing he needs to do to complete his game, and that’s to ... (He stops dead. John, who has been rifling through the folder, looks up at his friend, who is turned away from him.) JOHN: Sherlock? SHERLOCK: Something I need to do. JOHN: What? Can I help? SHERLOCK: No – on my own. (He briskly walks away. John watches him, sighing, then looks down at the papers again. He looks up and down the road and then apparently decides where he needs to go and heads off in the opposite direction.)

and also

3. TRF at Barts when he lures John away to meet Moriarty on the roof

SHERLOCK: What is it? JOHN: Paramedics. Mrs Hudson – she’s been shot. SHERLOCK: What? How? JOHN (frantically): Well, probably one of the killers you managed to attract ... Jesus. Jesus. She’s dying, Sherlock. Let’s go. (He turns towards the door.) SHERLOCK (disinterestedly): You go. I’m busy. (John turns back towards him, his face appalled.) JOHN: Busy? SHERLOCK: Thinking. I need to think. JOHN: You need to ...? Doesn’t she mean anything to you? You once half killed a man because he laid a finger on her. SHERLOCK (shrugging): She’s my landlady. JOHN (furiously): She’s dying ... (He flails a hand in front of himself in utter disbelief at Sherlock’s attitude.) JOHN: You machine. (He looks down, shaking his head.) JOHN: Sod this. Sod this. (He heads towards the door.) You stay here if you want, on your own. SHERLOCK: Alone is what I have. Alone protects me.

(with the last one also pay attention to the similarity to the “cab”-conversations from the first shot!! Like a circle is closing...)

So what do we have? A shot and a following conversation that both point back to two of the most crucial turning points in Sherlock’s developement and his relationship with John: TGG and TRF. 

But the two shots are set apart for 2 series, 6 episodes (+special) and about 6 years ....

(sidenote: poor writing and filming when digging up an actual SIMLIAR shot after 6 years??? Really...???)

But what could this mean? What could that scene in TST reflect of the past? Thoughts:

- Charlie Wellsboroug (as often pointed out) acts as a Sherlock mirror in TST, travelling to Nepal, trying to come back to surprise a loved one, which doesn’t play out as expected... both in disguise, Charlie as well as Sherlock... Charlie died unexpectedly of a seizure... did Sherlock also die (inside) the moment he wanted to show up????

- And it happens to be that Lucy (fiancée of Westie) is a strong John mirror! Even their flats look alike! And the reaction of grieving Lucy to the accusations of her fiancée strongly remind me of another grieving someone

- what Lucy mentioned about Westie just dashing of “seeing someone” without telling her is a very common theme of course. This is something Sherlock’s doing constantly as also can be seen in the parallels drawn in the conversations above. But most of all it is the main problem of TRF which influences the whole relationship between Sherlock and John since then! That Sherlock left John without letting him know, without informing him! It left John with the feeling, that Sherlock didn’t trust him and that he failed Sherlock... And we also see this back in the sane episode as the first shot (TST) when John feels not good enough for Sherlock...

- and then again and again one of the main issues of Sherlock: “alone is what protects me”! But then when in the end he really IS alone, he feels what being alone really is about

- and finally the parallel between the devices leading to Moriarty/Mary... to me this such an obvious parallel that the thought strikes me again - IS Mary Moriarty?? Is Mary even real (I doubt it) which would lead to: is S3 even real?

So here is what I think... but of course there is obviously much more to say...:

To me it’s remarkable that all this so strongly points back to TRF. This gives me the feeling that TST is actually about the issues of TRF (even if it supposes to be about Mary and AGRA...). This raises the question.... what is all this really about???

To me it seems as if there is someone dealing with the past! Could it be that Sherlock is still dealing with the consequences his choices in TRF had?? Leaving John behind? Dashing of alone? Facing Moriarty alone? Not trusting John??? 

And actually that fits very well with the writers own interpretation of S4:

[Season 4] is going to be… I suppose you’d say… consequences. It’s consequences. Chickens come to roost. It’s dark in some ways—obviously it’s great fun and a Sherlock Holmes romp and all that—but there’s a sense of… things… coming back to bite you

Steven Moffat for “entertainment weekly” back in march 2015 (X)

Just that it’s not about the consequences we see on the surface but it’s about consequences with which Sherlock is dealing in his mind experiments, his mind plays he’s setting up to figure things out - Sherlock is in his MP!! It’s metaphoric and in my oppinion it’s actually about TRF.... 

I would like to hear your thoughts...

@ebaeschnbliah @gosherlocked @monikakrasnorada @isitandwonder @tjlcisthenewsexy @tendergingergirl @sianbrooke @sarahthecoat @221bloodnun @shadow3214 @impatient14

(tell me if you don’t want to be tagged!) thanks to @callie-ariane for all the subscripts