#oh yeah and for legal reasons the background is not mine | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

missdawnandherdusk · 4 years ago

Text

Love Story

Draco X Reader

Request: @dracofeltonmalfoy: your heart breaks at seventeen when you realize that Draco doesn’t love you enough to not marry his betrothed, Astoria. It’s years later and though you’re still hesitant and bitter about what occurred, you still answer the call that Ginny makes to you to help Draco.

A/n: Look at me posting!! And during midterm week no less!! Thank you so much for this request! (I promise I’m getting to the rest of them). And can I say that I am in love with grown up Draco? Like yes ma’am I’ll take them all. Maturity is attractive. Let me know what you think! I love y’all so much.

“You don’t understand,” Draco paced the small room. “I have to marry her,”

“Sure,” I spat. “Marry Astoria. I don’t give a damn anymore Malfoy,” I hadn’t used his last name in such a malice tone in years. I could see the effect that it had on him, his face fell.

“Don’t say that,” He begged softly, “Please, I love you,”

“But not enough,” I raised an eyebrow at him. “What happened to everything that we planned? All of the things you promised me? Where did that Draco go?” My voice became thick with tears. “No, you’re so paranoid about your reputation... I’m not waiting around for you to figure out who you want or who you want to follow. I don’t care.” A heavy silence and I had decided. “Have a nice life, Draco.”

“Y/n,” He called as I stood to leave.

“No,” I snapped. “Just... no. I deserve more than this.”

“I know,” He confessed in a small voice.

That was the last time I spoke to Draco Malfoy in years. At first, I was okay with it. I felt free. I had moved on, found someone new that made what he did to me hurt a bit less. It wasn’t the same, nor what I felt when I was with Draco, but it was enough for the moment. He didn’t last long, and my heart still waited for Draco on some nights, but I had grown up. I had grown confident. I was independent. I didn’t need anyone to tell me they loved me because I loved me. And that was enough. I had healed from having to walk away or face being cut off forever.

I assumed that Draco was happy. His union with Astoria was in the paper. The invitation I received was burned. Why he’d think to invite me left me aggravated and loathing him more than before. But that night I was weak. I cried for Draco Malfoy that night. I almost went. But I refrained. I knew nothing would change even if I did go, so I’d rather be left wondering than left crushed.

The next time I saw Draco’s name in the paper, it was splashed across the front page. A scandal that Skeeter couldn’t wait to publish and get her hands on. Astoria Malfoy caught in an affair with Blaise Zabini. I saw Draco’s stoic face, and though the image moved, and the small child in his arms squirmed, he remained static. I threw the paper down because though it was just a photograph, his eyes still bore into mine, in the same pleading look that he gave me before I left him. I wonder if he knew that I see the photo.

I wonder if he knew that I still loved him even after all these years.

And I had no intention of crossing paths with him. Though I thought about it. A lot. And maybe I had actually written the letter before I burned it... but I decided that no. I was not interfering with his life.

I just never thought that he’d interfere with mine. Well, Harry interfered with my life. Well, Ginny did.

Ginny and I got lunch every once in a while, to catch up along with Hermione. Now that our Hogwarts days and the war was over, an amity fell between the three of us. And it was nice to see some old faces that didn’t cause my heart to rabbit trail into painful memories.

It was a phone call that I had gotten that interfered with my quaint Friday night.

“Are you in town?” Ginny’s voice sounded strained and frantic.

“Yes, why?” I set down my book, standing.

“Can you come over? We... have a situation...” She voiced.

“What sort of situation?” I pressed, going looking for my shoes and cloak. “Harry just did a spell wrong and now he can’t speak English situation or Ron and Harry tried to do something stupid on their brooms and need medical attention sort of situation?” I teased lightly.

“It relates more to the former...” Ginny sounded almost hesitant to give me details. Her voice was suddenly far from the receiver and muffled. “No, Scorpius, put that down! Harry! No don’t encourage him!” That caught my attention.

“Ginny, what in Merlin’s name!?” I demanded.

“Please just get over here, you were better than we were at potions,”

“Ginny,” I baited.

“Thank you!” Was all she got out and I heard a crash before the line disconnected.

Utterly shocked and standing in deafening silence I let out a frustrated growl. After grabbing my carpet bag of miscellaneous counter curses, antidotes, and talismans I took the Floo network to the Potter’s.

And the sight before me was something that I would not have ever imagined. Draco was slung over Harry’s shoulder, looking intoxicated and completely out of it. Nothing like the cold refined man that I knew him to be. Then Scorpius was running around with Albus all trying to be corralled by James and Ginny while Lily laughed in the background, sitting on the counters.

Deciding that Harry could help with the children more than I could, I rushed to his side and took Draco off his hands, supporting him.

“What’s wrong with him?” I bit out, watching as Harry scooped up Albus as Ginny swooped in and caught Scorpius.

“Nothing, well, he’s been drugged but we’re sure it should wear off in a few hours.” Harry appeased, almost nonchalant.

“Drugged?” I demanded, leading Draco to a well-loved recliner.

“I’m finnnnne,” Draco slurred, his fine blond hair hanging into his eyes in a complete mess. “You have such pretty eyes Y/n,” Draco’s head lulled back against the recliner back as his half- opened eyes gazed into mine.

“Yeah, okay,” I smiled sweetly and gave an alarming look to Ginny—Harry having disappeared into the house with the three other children. “You’ve got to be bloody joking,” I hissed, nearing her.

“I know! Harry was filming him. You should have heard him on the way over. Wouldn’t shut up about you.”

“Get him upstairs.” I begged, exasperated and rubbing my face. “I’m going to find Harry.”

“What? Why?” Ginny’s eyebrows furrowed as she set Scorpius down now that he was calmed with the lack of the other children.

“Because no one makes fun of Draco!” I shouted, not realizing the depth of my words, or how much I sounded like I did back at Hogwarts... when Draco loved me.

Ginny and I both seemed to grasp this as I went red and sighed, going to find Harry. After throwing his phone out the third-floor window, I headed back down a level to where Ginny had taken Draco to a spare room. I found Draco asleep in the bed and Ginny leaning against the doorjamb.

“He’s still asking for you,” Ginny muttered. “He wants to know where the ‘fairest maiden has gone and when will she return’” She raised an eyebrow at me.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I groaned, distressed. “How am I supposed to deal with him like this?”

“You probably know better than any of us.” Ginny pointed out. “Isn’t there a counter curse? Or something that you have or know?”

“In all my years I’ve seen nothing close to this. It’s like he’s drunk and on Veritaserum and Amorentia and believe me there is no legal potion out there with that sort of affect.”

“So... what do we do with him?” She asked.

“Wait it out? That’s all I know to do.” I paused. “I’ll stick around and make sure he doesn’t start to die or anything... but I can’t fix him,”

Ginny nodded and gave me a pity look. “Are you going to be okay?”

“That is not the question to ask right now,” I muttered, shrugging off my cloak. “Go on up to Harry and your little ones. Make sure Scorpius is alright, I’ll look after him,”

“If you need anything,” She baited.

“I’ll call,” I smiled.

Alone in the room, I sighed and stared at him before heading to the edge of the bed and sitting gently on the edge.

“Draco?” I asked softly, trying to hide the hurt that sparked in my chest.

“Y/n, my fair maiden,” He slurred, trying to get up.

“No, no, you need to lie down,” I scolded, pushing him back down, pressing my hand to his forehead—he didn’t have a fever.

“As my lady commands.” He mumbled, causing me to withdraw my touch.

“Don’t.” I inhaled sharply. “You need to sleep Draco. You need to get better.”

“I’m already better with you here,” A dopey smile crossed his face.

“Oh my god Draco!” I snapped, standing, pacing the small room. “Stop saying things like that! You don’t mean them, and I don’t want to hear it!”

When I didn’t get a response from him, I looked over and he was fast asleep at an awkward angle. Sighing, I brushed the stray strands of silky hair from his face and slowly righted him, taking off his shoes and socks positioning him in the center of the bed. After I laid a blanket over him, I sat in the lone chair that was in his room and taking my book from my bag, started again.

It neared eleven at night, and he still hadn’t woken back up. My book finished, I sighed again and stood, stretching. Leaving his room, I saw Harry nodding off in his chair downstairs, Scorpius in his arms, also asleep.

“To bed with you,” I smiled, helping him up.

“Draco?”

“Still asleep.” I informed. “I’m gonna change and I’ll be back to watch him.”

_______________________

Draco blinked, his head pounding, trying to keep up with the blurred image around him. The first thing he noticed was the blanket over him and his shoes were gone and that you were asleep in the chair next to his bed and this bed was most certainly not his—neither were you for that matter. His memory was fuzzy, and he didn’t remember much, and he didn’t like not remembering.

In an attempt to get up, he woke you, not sure why some part of him cared. He didn’t ask to be taken care of like a child. He processed that he was at the Potter’s for some godforsaken reason, and that you were next to him. Some part of him wished he was just having a really awful nightmare.

“Draco?” You asked sleepily.

Who else would it be?

“Yes,” He spoke quietly.

“Are you... you again?” You mumbled.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” He snapped, defensive that you were there, or anywhere near him. The nightmare continued.

“You were drugged... were acting weird for a while... I had to throw Harry’s phone out a window.” Your words made some sense... except the last part.

“Why would you do that?” He mused, enjoying your half-asleep state.

“He recorded you... was making fun of you... wasn’t right...” You stretched and rubbed your face yawning.

“I see,” There was a pang in his heart at your words. Something reminiscent in them. Maybe this wasn’t a nightmare after all.

You nodded and stood, staggering slightly. “How long have you been there?”

“What time is it?” You asked weakly.

“Five in the morning,”

“Mhmm... twelve hours? Finished my book.” You gestured vaguely and yawned again. “M’gonna head back home.”

You started to walk towards the door and almost fell. He was there to catch you though. Your hands clutched at his shirt, running the fabric through your fingertips.

“Okay, yeah. You’re going to stay right here,” Draco muttered. “Because I am not dragging you down those stairs or back home.”

“I’m fine, I’ll get Ginny to take me home,” You yawned gesturing vaguely, your eyes still didn’t open all the way.

“No, you’re not. You’re sleep deprived, and whereas I can handle it, you can’t.” However long he had been asleep—twelve hours apparently—had given him enough rest to be completely awake and alert.

“You’re bossy.”

He chuckled at your sleep ridden words and moved you to his bed, tucking you under the blanket he had been under. You smiled and inhaled them deeply, relaxing instantly. He wondered why you thought of him as a reason to relax.

When he got up to leave, your eyes opened partly.

“Where are you going? You need to rest more. You were drugged.”

“I’ve dealt with worse drugs Y/n,”

“Mmm I don’t think you’ve ever been like that. I’ve seen you high and drunk and that was... something else.” You mumbled. “Please rest Draco. Stay with me and sleep.”

Your words were like daggers to his heart. Were you aware that you were saying them? Surely you couldn’t be, because surely you wouldn’t ever mean them. It had been too long since you ever murmured those words.

“Am I not allowed to find to where my son has gone?” He mused, knowing you’d let him go for that and then be too far into sleep to notice that he didn’t come back.

You hummed in agreement he supposed. Just as he went to close the door, he heard you jumbled words again.

“Why would you say that?” There was hurt and confusion in your tone. “Why would you...?”

Not knowing whatever that was about, Draco closed the door softly behind him and sighed. He felt disgusting. He wanted nothing more than a warm bath and some fresh clothes and for Merlin’s sake a comb. But those things would have to wait, because bright blue eyes blinked up in the early morning as they always did.

“Good morning my little birdie,” Draco smiled, pulling Scorpius into his arms. “Quite a change of scenery here isn’t it?” He mused, to a nodding giggling Scorpius.

“Draco, you’re awake,” The tired voice belonged to Ginny, who sounded surprised even in her weary state.

“I am,” A quiet pause. “Thank you... I’m not quite sure what happened last night but...”

“Do you have any memory at all?” Ginny asked, taking out a jar of applesauce, setting a bowl and spoon for Scorpius.

“I... no. I was at the Gala, next thing I know, I wake up and Y/n is asking if I’m me again,” Draco thanked her and began to spoon feed Scorpius the apple puree.

“Are you, you?” Ginny asked, leaning against the counter before setting off to brew a pot of coffee.

“Quite,” He clipped. “What does that even mean? What happened last night?”

Unbridled terror set in Draco’s chest as Ginny recounted the night back to him. The only thing that kept him from breaking something was the toddler in his arms, clinging to him.

“I... I was asking for Y/n?” Draco asked, his voice shaking.

“Honey, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say even intoxicated and drugged, you knew she’d be there for you,” Ginny raised her eyebrow at him. “You wanna explain that?”

Draco shot her a cold look and went back to aiding Scorpius eat. Maybe that had been why you asked why he would say something like that... and that was a valid and honest question: why would he? He had gotten over you. That was that. He moved on.

Not that he loved Astoria. No, he could never see her as more than someone who drove you away from him. And perhaps that was the reason behind her affair. Maybe it was because she knew that he didn’t love her, and she didn’t love him. Some part of him wished that she had just been honest with him... then it wouldn’t be such gossip in the Wizarding World. They could have divorced and gone on their own ways. But perhaps not. The marriage was arranged. It would take more than a divorce to end it. Perhaps the scandal was for the best after all.

“Thank you for your hospitality, but I’m afraid I have to go,” Draco said softly.

“Draco,” Ginny chided. “You can’t just leave her here,”

“I can do as I please,” Draco snapped harshly before remembering himself. “Thank you, once more,”

Draco only hesitated when he went to fetch his shoes from the spare room, and caught sight of you sleeping soundly, a soft smile on your face. Something in his chest distorted a bit more.

_________________________

I woke in the late morning, semi remembering why I was at Ginny’s, then it all came flooding back. I didn’t even have to ask where Draco had gone because I knew he had gone. I knew he’d leave at the first chance he’d get.

Apologizing and thanking Ginny, I headed back home to shower and don clean clothes. Ginny gave me a worried look and said to call if I needed anything. I assured her I was fine and wasn’t going to have an emotional breakdown. Crying while I showered meant nothing.

I was fine.

Monday at work, Harry found me in the staff room fixing a cup of tea.

“You’re going to have to talk to him eventually,” Harry nudged my shoulder as we stood at the mini coffee bar, not even having to specify who he thought I should speak to.

“I’m not gonna follow him around like a lost puppy Harry, I’m done with that.” I shifted the weight on my feet. “He’s grown, he can handle himself,”

“Well I get that, but you can... act human at least. You’re shutting him out completely.” Harry pointed out. “And I don’t think either of you want that,”

“I wouldn’t know what he wanted,” I sighed in vain. “It’s not that easy Harry,” I pressed, cradling my mug in my hands. “I haven’t worried about him before, why should I now?”

“Because when he was drugged all he could do was ask for you and you dropped everything to make sure he was alright and slept in a chair for a night to keep an eye on him?” Harry raised an eyebrow.

“And maybe it was the drug and maybe I’m a decent person,” I refuted.

“All I’m saying I’ve been his work partner for a better half of five years and I’ve never seen him like this. He’s shutting everyone else out since the affair... everyone but you,” Harry’s green eyes reaffirmed his words.

I stared at my tea and didn’t say a word. I didn’t want to believe Harry’s words. I didn’t want to entertain the idea that maybe there was something left between Draco and I. But no matter how much I didn’t want to, I still thought about it all day during work, despite my best efforts.

How fitting it was that it was raining as I stepped onto the London street. Typical of London, no doubt, but it seemed as a sign all the same. Going to cast a shielding charm I froze when I saw in my peripheral pale skin and near white hair. I tried not to pay him any mind, but it seemed that whatever intentions I had were stopped by the words Harry had said earlier. My eyes wandered out to the city streets as rain started to fall slightly harder.

“Y/n?” Draco called my attention, his use of my name barely having any life in it.

“Yes?” I tore my attention away from the view.

“It’s raining,”

“Stellar observation,” I commented, remembering my shielding charm, creating an umbrella over me.

“Perhaps you would like to get out of it?” His voice was hesitant. “I suppose I do owe you for Friday night,”

That caught my attention and I finally turned to look at him. His was reserved, guarded. Yet there was something in his eyes that he couldn’t hide. A hope. A wish. A fantasy that I had written myself out of.

“You don’t owe me anything,” I finally whispered.

A sad sort of smile played at his lips. His eyes still didn’t leave mine as if we were transfixed on another, the stars wishing us to remain connected.

Screw the stars.

“Have a nice evening,” I ushered out before Apparating back home.

It was that night that I gave in. For the first time in almost ten years I gave in. There was a small fabric box tucked into my closet, collecting dust. Green and black with silver engravings. Tears streaming down my face, I sat on my bedroom floor and opened it.

It was every letter he wrote me. I should have burned them long ago, but I never did.

My Dearest, Y/n,

In the midst of this darkness, you are the only light I need. I’d face a world full of demons for the sake of you, my angel. I know it is dark now, and this path isn’t ideal, but I will fight for you, I will fight with you. Stand by my side my dearest angel. Be the fairytale maiden in this narrative and let me be your hero. I’ll never leave you, my love. And when morning light comes, I shall be in your arms again and my world will be complete.

Look after my heart, I’ve left it with you,

Your Draco

My Beloved, Y/n,

Do you know what my paradise would be? You and me, away from it all. Free and able to love and live freely. Rainy days and warm cups of tea. Even without a fire to keep us warm, the warmth of your smile will keep me from freezing even on the coldest night. And though it may be nothing more than you reading a book or watching the sun rise, you’d be my goddess, the reason I existed, the one that I praised and prayed to each morning and evening. My paradise would be you and I, in a heaven of our own when I could worship you in every way, in every language known to man.

Your Draco

My Darling, Y/n,

How this summer grows longer with every day that passes. I wish that I weren’t away in Paris having to accompany my parents. I’d much rather be in your arms. And each night I watch the stars and the moon, knowing that you are doing the same. We are watching the same moon after all, no matter how far apart we are. That gives me more hope that you are true, and not a dream that I’ve let run wild.

And just as the night that I could not see the moon because of the clouds, I know that even now, though I do not see you, I know you are still there and that you still love me. You are my moon, my darling. You are my stars, my night sky. You hold every bit of majesty and wonder as they do.

I shall be back soon my love,

Your Draco

Though the pile of unread letters was still tall, my vision was blurred by tears and heart wrenching sobs that broke from my chest. Hugging my knees and hiding my face in my arms, I wept. For the first time in years, I let myself mourn Draco Malfoy. For the love that I had for him. For the love that we shared. For the boy I knew in Hogwarts and for the man I resented. For the Draco Malfoy that called to me while drugged and inebriated. For the Draco Malfoy who had tried to make amends. For the Draco Malfoy I had turned down.

I mourned the girl in the mirror as well. For her broken jaded heart. For the years she spent alone and in denial. I mourned the girl who would still do anything for him if he’d only ask. I mourned the girl who was tired of trying to be strong on her own. I mourned the girl who craved companionship even though she was confident in herself.

I cried for the lovers in the letters. I held them close to my chest and cried. Tears dripped off of my cheeks and onto the faded aged parchment. Senseless words left my lips as I tried to rationalize these emotions. As I tried to make sense of this feeling—something that I had neglected for too long.

The hour was late as my fire burned lower and lower in my hearth. I sat curled up under a blanket on the floor with a mug of tea. Watching the flames, I let myself reminisce about the past. About Draco. About what could have been. A small smile lingered on my lips as gentle tears fell occasionally.

The rest of the week, I didn’t run into Draco. Not that I sought him out. Or that our departments ever crossed. Or that I cared.

I did however run into a former Malfoy in Diagon Alley a week after having to babysit Draco.

“Astoria,” my voice was calm and gentle as rage lurked beneath.

“Y/n,” she seemed almost happy to see me as she came forward to hug me. My cold step back stopped her, her eyes finding my judgemental gaze. Her demeanor changed.

“Of all the people I know, I thought you’d understand,” her voice was guarded and hurt.

“Thought I’d understand?” I nearly gasped, surprised at my anger towards her. “I know Draco like I know my own mind. I hope you’re happy because you’ll never find someone that trusting and kind again.” Our glares combatted another as tension grew between us.

“You walked out on him same as I did.” She accused. “Who do you think had to pick him up from that?” Her words were sharp as I took a breath in.

“I walked away because he had to marry you!” I snarled. “I’d never walk out on him if I had another choice!” We were starting to draw attention of passersby. I didn’t really care. “I chose his happiness over mine,”

“Oh really?” She didn’t seem convinced.

“I chose your happiness over mine, even.” I realized. “He had to get married. He had to marry rich. A pureblood. Someone his parents approved of. He desperately wanted their approval...” my voice fell as the memories came flooding back. “That made him happy back then, doing what he thought was right...”

“You should be thanking me then!” Astoria exasperated. “I gave him his happiness!”

“Are you serious?” I demanded. “You broke his heart! You left him with a child alone! You publicly humiliated him! In clearing your name from the Malfoy’s you’ve ruined his life! And you think he’s happy now!?”

“How about we ask him?” She countered; her gaze fixed on someone in the distance.

I whirled around, meeting curious jaded blue eyes as he strolled down the lane.

“Draco,” The soft gasp left my lips.

“What’s the meaning of this?” His voice was calm despite the firmness it held as he addressed me, not Astoria.

“Nothing,” I answered softly. “It’s nothing,”

“Sure, defend his honor and call it nothing,” Astoria sneered.

“You don’t get to talk,” I snapped, turning back to her. “You’ve done enough.”

“Y/n,” Draco chided softly, taking a place beside me. “I can handle this,”

“Draco,” I argued, looking up at him only to be silenced by a steady pleasing gaze from his eyes.

“Astoria,” He finally greeted, and I could see his guard go up. There was a warning in his single word and something passed between them.

“Draco,” She nodded then turned to leave without another word. He went to leave as well, and I caught his arm.

“Draco, hang on,” I called.

As he faced me, a sadness lingered in his eyes. I wondered about Harry’s words and how he was shutting everyone out. Everyone but me.

“If that offer is still open...” I tested. “I’d love to get out of the rain with you,”

Calculations ran through his eyes and I could see each one. For a moment I thought my request was a lost cause. That he was about to turn me down as I turned him down not a few days ago. Our eyes locked and the stars seemed to draw us back together. Now... now I felt something different. Something new in my heart towards Draco. It wasn’t what it had been before, but something morphed, changed, unyielding.

“Alright,” He nodded with a sigh.

“If you don’t want to... you don’t owe me anything Draco,” I rushed out, taking a small step back.

“Publicly defending my honor might count for something,” He mused softly. “Shall we?”

“I think I mentioned tea,” A soft chuckle left my lips as we entered Florean Fortescue Ice Cream Parlor.

“This is a favorite of Scorpius’,” Draco murmured. “I’ve grown accustomed to it...” He paused. “You used to like it as well,” A small smirk lingered on his face. “Has that changed?”

“No,” I admitted, flushing a bit pink.

“Butter pecan, waffle cone?” He raised an eyebrow.

“Waffle bowl,” I amended. “I’m not a child,”

“Oh, I’m sure,” He let out a soft laugh and ordered for the two of us. He hadn’t changed either, he still chose mint chocolate chip in a sugar cone.

“So, where’s Scorpius, he’s not old enough for Hogwarts, is he?” I asked as we sat at a small table outside.

“Merlin, no,” Draco chuckled. “He’ll be six in January, and at the moment he’s with my mother. She watches him while I’m away at work,” He said in a matter-of-fact tone.

“How’s he doing with—um...” I asked timidly,

Draco’s smile sobered as his gaze dropped to the table to the used napkins that had gotten the stickiness off of our hands and left colorful wrappings from the cones.

“Or not,” I whispered. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked. It wasn’t my place,”

“Still the apologetic I see,” A sad sort of smile hit his lips. “And he’s taking it hard... harder than I am, I think. I knew she didn’t love me... I don’t think he ever understood it all...”

“I’m so sorry,” I offered.

He shot me an amused look.

“I mean it,” I insisted. “It’s not fair for either of you...”

“Thank you,” Genuine gratitude held in his voice.

“Oi, Malfoy! Lunch ended twenty minutes ago!”

I heard a familiar voice and turned to see Harry walk into the small shop. As soon as Harry saw me sitting across from Draco, his demeanor changed and a grin grew on his face as if to say: ‘I told you so,’ but to which one of us I wasn’t sure.

“Hi Y/n,” Harry said cheerfully.

“Not a word, Potter,” Draco and I said simultaneously before catching the other’s gaze. Harry and I began to laugh, and I heard the gentle sound of Draco’s true laughter—something he rarely did, even when I knew him, but I cherished the sound all the same.

“I’m glad you two got to catch up, I am, but Draco, Mulligan has my arse because you’re missing,” Harry air-quoted the last word.

Sighing, Draco stood. “Y/n,” Was all he said as a goodbye before he and Harry set off.

I sat and stared at the empty space he left for a while, wondering what was going on between us. Was something going on between us? My heart said yes but my mind said no. I had forfeited the right to have anything with him. I walked away.

But still I wondered.

The next morning my phone kept chiming. Again, and again it wouldn’t stop with notifications and calls. I groaned and grabbed it off my beside table and squinted at it. A lot of the notifications were from friends and people I rarely talked too. One of them was from Ginny. I opened that one.

“How was your date?” It read and showed a picture of Draco and me at the ice cream parlor yesterday. We looked happy. The headline read:

Malfoy Moving On? Head Auror Caught with Old Classmate Sweetheart After Scandal

Then it dawned on me. This made the news. National news.

Scrolling through my phone, I found a number that I had but never called before. I had gotten it from Harry and Ginny long ago for emergences if Harry got injured on a case. I don’t think he knows I have it.

“Hello? Auror Malfoy,” A slightly tired voice answered, and it drew a smile on my lips before I remembered why I called.

“Draco,” I began, not knowing how to start this conversation.

“Y/n? How did you get my number?” In his weariness his tone was a lot harsher and blunt. His words stung.

“Harry gave it to me in case I needed it if something went wrong on one of your cases,” I explained softly. “I can delete it if you want... I was just wondering if you’ve seen this morning’s paper yet,”

“I have not,” He replied.

“Oh,” Anxiety grew in my chest. “Call me when you do?” I squeaked out. “Or don’t. Yeah, bye,” I quickly hung up and screamed at the ceiling, throwing my phone across the room. “Stupid Draco Malfoy!” I shouted at no one. Staring at the ceiling I wasn’t aware of how long I sat there.

Then my phone started ringing across the room. Of course, it was Draco.

“Hello?” I answered timidly.

“When can you be at the Manor? We need to talk,” Nothing scared me more than those four words.

“I—uh... half an hour?” I fumbled for words. “Draco—” The line disconnected. “Draco!” I yelled in frustration.

My body trembled as I got ready, knowing that that last time we had “talked” had ended our relationship and set us on different paths. I hoped to the stars that that wouldn’t happen again. I... I liked having Draco in my life. I wanted to be there for him, because according to Harry, I was the only one he would let in. Then there was the matter of whatever happened the night he was wasted and calling for me.

Taking the Floo network, I stepped into Malfoy Manor—a place I hadn’t been in over ten years. Draco was waiting for me in the grand foyer, appearing quite unkept, his hair a rumpled mess and his dress shirt still untucked, the tie hanging loosely around his neck.

“Hello,” I offered softly.

He hummed a greeting and motioned for me to follow him. I thought that I was going to throw up with the amount of anxiety bubbling in my stomach. I didn’t like this at all.

Leading me into the grand kitchen he nodded to the island bar where two mugs of tea had been set out. My heart panged as I looked at the warm liquid that held the right hue of creaminess and I wondered if Draco remembered how I took my tea after all this time.

“I’m having Mulligan and Granger take care of it,” was all he said as he took a careful sip of his tea, his gaze fixed upon the newspaper on the counter before us.

“Take care of it?” I pressed, frowning.

“The photos. The newspapers.” He filled in.

“No, I get that,” I almost rolled my eyes, “But why? It’s just gossip...”

“Why?” Draco almost snapped. I looked to my tea ashamed. He took a breath.

“Do you regret it? Yesterday?” I barely spoke.

“Why would I?” He acted if I were the insane one here, “We went out. We enjoyed each other’s company. It was fine.”

“Then why would you tell Mulligan to— “

“I didn’t.” He stopped me. “He told me he was doing it. He was supposed to have stopped it from ever happening.”

“You knew. You knew this was going to happen,”

“Yes, or something like it, and I tried to stop it. The press has been... unforgiving of my name and business as of late and I didn’t want to drag anyone else into it,”

I nodded and looked down till I heard him sigh.

“Especially not you,” He tacked on.

“What?” My sleep deprived brain was trying to catch up.

Draco pursed his lips and stared at the photo of us smiling at another on the front page.

“Correct me if I’m wrong, but I do believe that I have forfeited the right to ask anything of you or hope to include you into my life in any way,” Melancholy riddled his words and my heart fell as I yearned to reach out for him.

“So, you’ve been avoiding me?” I didn’t understand the frustration I felt. “I... You—God above Draco.” I hissed. “Why don’t you let my make that choice myself? I forfeited that right just as much as you did,”

“I don’t see how,”

“I walked away from you... I made that choice.”

“But did you have a choice?” Draco countered softly.

I didn’t have a response for that. Not a good one that I could defend well. Sure, I could claim I did and that I made the choice... but back then, our hands were tied. There was fear and war and uncertainty, and perhaps I didn’t have a choice after all.

He spoke before I had the chance to form a sound argument.

“As you know work with Harry as well.”

“Yes,” I acknowledged.

“And that a week ago Friday was a bit of a disaster for the both of us,”

“Wouldn’t be one of my least favorite nights, but a disaster... sure.” I drawled, raising an eyebrow. He ignored my taunt and pressed on.

“Harry suggested that I take you out to make it up to you. Hence the invitation that one day and then our date yesterday,” His explanation made me pause.

“That was a date?” I asked, anxiety growing in my chest of where this could go.

“I mean... it fit all the perimeters of a date.” He was testing the waters as much as I was.

I let out a short laugh.

“I suppose it did,” I nodded to the paper in front of us.

“He also said that perhaps I shouldn’t have to be inebriated to figure out and express my emotions toward you—or anyone for that matter,” He tacked on, a mumbled mess.

“I... you—”

“You asked me why I would say something like what I said,” Draco gave, pressing on, not giving me a moment to process. “I doubt you remember it—you were half awake—but... No matter how much I’ve lost the right and privilege, I want you in my life, Y/n. Apart of it, if you’re willing,”

They talked about time freezing around you and how everything comes into focus. And that there are moments when all of the heartache and pain will one day count for something, and perhaps this was it. This was that moment. That point that I could make all of the pain and tears mean something beautiful. Something not quite new, but no longer old and forgotten.

“I... I want you in my life too,” I whispered the confession. “It’s... it’s really nice... to have you back,” My gaze dropped to the counter and the tea in my hands as guilt pierced through me.

“Can... can you ever forgive me? For all the hurt and pain I’ve caused you? Have I done too much that there’s no hope?”

“I... I never blamed you.” I admitted. “Or if I did, I don’t now. But Draco, we’re both different people now. I... I need your patience. Because as much as I want to say yes, I... I don’t know. I don’t know what hurts are going to come back up or what scars might reopen... If you’re willing to deal with that...”

“If you’re willing to deal with the rumors and gossip and stuffy life that I lead... I’ll wait a thousand lifetimes for you to be ready again,”

________________________

The kindness and forgiveness in your eyes brought him back. Way back. To the Yule Ball when you had been introduced to him. It was a dance of formalities and posture. He knew that you were a bit of a flirt, but after spending time with you, he could see that your bright over-friendly personality earned you such a reputation.

When Draco was younger, when he was at Hogwarts, when you were by his side, he thought he knew three things that would never change.

The first was that he was a Malfoy. He had to marry rich, marry whoever his parents picked out for him. There was no debate about that. It was the way things were. Keep the pureblood line going and the wealth in the family, if not expound upon it. He was the only son of his parents and it was his duty to carry the name on, carry it higher. He was a Malfoy.

The second was that as soon as he saw your face, that all changed. There was no one quite like you. He had never met anyone who matched him heart and mind and yet somehow you were kind and gentle at the same time. Your intelligent eyes that made him forget his name. He knew there would never be a day that he didn’t love you. That freedom you gave. He loved you.

And thirdly: he was betrothed to Astoria Greengrass.

That was about a decade ago. Now, only one of those things held true. Blinking away the memories and thoughts, he met your intelligent determined eyes once more. Everything came crashing down around him. The truth.

Draco didn’t have to marry rich. He had and the girl he married had an affair with another man and he was free from the obligation. He was no longer engaged to Astoria. He no longer had to entertain her listless petty stories or her frivolous shallow needs. He had a son. That kept the family name going, that kept the pureblood line alive.

But Draco still loved you.

And God damn him if he wouldn’t find every way to express that to you.

Maybe that was the reason behind his further actions. It was the reasoning behind why he reached out to you, stroking your face softly as he did long ago. He caressed your cheek as if it were precious marble, a sculpture given to him by the gods.

And for the first time in ten years, Draco didn’t have to fantasize what it would be like to kiss you again. He didn’t have to desperately cling to how your lips felt against his. He didn’t have to deny how much he missed you.

Frozen under his touch, Draco worried that perhaps this was something he should regret. That he should stop. That he should deny still.

But your hand came up slowly, not to push him away but to hold him close as he held you, cradling his face as if he were the most precious thing to you. Your fingers curled into his hair, causing the butterflies in his chest to set flight. Your soft sounds were met with his steady purrs.

His tongue danced with yours in a forgotten waltz. Even after all this time you still tasted the same: sweet, alluring, and faintly like chai.

But you pulled away all too soon for his liking.

“You’re gonna be the death of me one day, Malfoy,” A smile curled on your lips.

“‘Til death do we part,” He jested lightly, earning a slight giggle from you as you pulled away and rebalanced yourself on the barstool.

“So... are we doing this? Like actually doing this?” You asked, fear lurking in your voice.

“I will do everything I can to make this right. To do this properly. To give you what you deserve,” He couldn’t quite understand why you laughed this time.

“I know you love your rules and traditions, but Draco I don’t need any of that and I don’t want any of that. I just want you. To get to know you again. To get to know Scorpius. I want my friend back,”

The desperate plea in your voice mirrored in your eyes and maybe he understood you a bit better and maybe himself, because he wanted that as well. He wanted you in his life. Woven into it. And possibly the first step to having that, was to get to know you again.

So, he would wait. He would learn. And he would love you till his dying day.

“That would be enough,” Draco smiled softly and took your hand into his.

A few months of dates and quiet nights and lunches together in the break room and the rumors in the papers seemed to fade and the shock value seemed to wane to others. But Draco was still amazed that you decided to stay by his side. That you let him back into your narrative. That you completely adored Scorpius more than his own mother ever did.

As you crouched beside Scorpius and a peacock on the Manor grounds as the three of you took an evening stroll, the smile you gave him made him believe that the past ten years were nothing but a terrible dream. A trial to prove that he had earned this reward.

Though you had asked for patience, it turned out that he needed some as well. Draco had no idea how deep seeded the betrayal from Astoria and his supposed best friend affected him. There were times that he grew angrier than he meant to. There were times he was harsher than he wanted to be. There were times he was more distant than he needed to be. There were times that he was more reckless than he should be.

And there were times when something lingered in your eyes that he didn’t quite enjoy. Fear, or hesitancy. There were new boundaries that you had, and he had learned to respect. You weren’t the same girl he knew at Hogwarts. You were independent, confident, self-made, but still kind and gentle. You didn’t depend on him for everything. You didn’t lean into every touch. You didn’t smile at every jest. His perspective of you changed, and he loved every change made.

A weekend when Scorpius had gone to his parent’s house in Paris for a weekend was the night that Draco truly felt alone for the first time in a long time—since you had been back in his life. As the hour grew later, he paced his study, debating on going to see you, knowing well you’d still be awake.

As the ghosts of his past came to life and overpowered your gentle voice in his mind, Draco was decided. Drawing his wand, he apparated straight to you.

“What in Merlin’s name!?” You demanded, wand drawn, looking frantic, only relaxing when you saw that it was him.

“I... couldn’t sleep. Everything is...” His voice was small, like a frightened child.

You lowered your wand as he stood in the doorway of your bedroom. Running a hand through your hair you sighed softly. He knew he was asking a lot—too much even. It had been a boundary of yours. You weren’t ready to sleep with him—innocently, not sensually—yet.

“Well, come on then,” You smiled softy, sliding over in your bed. “Just like old times,” His memory flickered back to the sleepless nights in the dorms at Hogwarts behind drawn drapes.

“This isn’t me trying—” Draco started, not wanting to push your boundary. He’d sleep on the couch for Merlin’s sake. He just wanted to be near someone who cared for him.

“I know,” You replied softly, reading him like an open book, as you were always able to.

“And I don’t—”

You rose from your bed, going over to him.

“Still trust me?” You whispered, your hands running up his arms, earning a shudder from him.

Draco nodded; his gaze transfixed on you. He knew what the question meant. It had been a routine of yours at Hogwarts. When he couldn’t seem to get a grip on the day and came to you at night, you were always there to care for him.

And you were there now.

Slowly you unbuttoned his shirt, leaving it to the floor. Going over to your dresser, you pulled out one a shirt that he recognized as his and placed it in his hands. He gripped the fabric tightly.

“You kept this?” His eyebrow furrowed.

A shrug left your shoulders as you neared your dresser again, opening another drawer. “Cotton or fleece?” The question was soft.

“Cotton,”

“I have flannel?” You offered, pulling out a pair of plaid sweats.

“That’ll do,” Draco smiled as you handed him the pants; he gripped them tightly as well.

“You’re safe,” You encouraged, stroking his cheek. “No one’s going to hurt you. No one expects anything of you. You’re alright here... You’re with me,”

“You knew I was coming,” It wasn’t an accusation.

“Eventually, yes. You hate nights alone.” The warmth of your eyes was intoxicating.

“I prefer it when you’re here,” He admitted.

“Then go change and we can get some sleep, yeah?”

That night had been quiet. It had taken some time, but eventually you laid in his arms, holding onto him as he held onto you. Silent tears fell for the both of you—of fear and acceptance and a new beginning. A step forward.

..........

Draco paced the floor, keeping a close watch to his temper as you arrived, looking confused and worried. And with the scarce information that he gave to you, it was well placed. Without a word—fearing that it might not be a kind one— he led you into the den, to where Scorpius was sitting on the couch, looking guilty and repentant.

“Scorpius,” Draco’s voice was concise and controlled. “Would you care to explain exactly what you told me to Miss Y/n?”

Some anger leaked through. A gentle hand on his shoulder reminded him to find calmness. A gentle smile on your face appeased and welcomed Scorpius as he began to speak.

“I... well... mother left. And papa had these letters... I found them and...I didn’t know who she was... but I thought—” the young boy stammered. “Father always has potions on hand down in his study... I thought that—if I just... he could be happy again,” Scorpius’ voice broke as he started to cry.

Your face crumpled softly, and Draco could see that you yearned to reach out to Scorpius and gather him into your arms but you refrained.

“So, you’re the one who drugged Draco,” You understood his son’s words, not nearly as upset as Draco had been because something else held your attention. “You kept my letters?” You seemed baffled. “All this time?”

Draco scoffed and his face remained stoic, but his cheeks tinged pink, affirming what you had said. And possibly it was the right thing to call you over to deal with this because with calmness and kindness that he never could find, you reprimanded Scorpius.

“Do you understand how dangerous that was?” You scolded. “Potions are not something to be played with or mixed. You could have really hurt your father.”

“I know,” Scorpius cried out, tears falling. “But—he... I thought I could get some answers. Find out who he loved—”

Your eyes met his with wonder and curiosity. There was no escaping that one. Draco wasn’t sure he wanted to avoid it.

“Okay,” Draco pinched the bridge of his nose, his face folded into a pained expression. “We’ll talk about this later young man, now go start your studies.”

“Yes sir,” Scorpius nodded and disappeared into the house.

“Draco don’t be hard on him,” You pleaded, reaching out to him. “He’s just a kid,”

“I know,” Draco sighed, taking your hands. ��That’s why I called you. I knew you’d handle it better than I ever could.”

“I’m not his mother, Draco,” You reminded him softly. “I don’t have authority here,”

Draco held his tongue before he really did ask you to be Scorpius’ mother but Merlin he wanted to. And maybe you could see that in his eyes because you looked down, flushing.

“He does seem truly sorry,” You changed the topic quickly before something was confessed after all.

“I think so,” Draco looked to the door from Scorpius had exited. Sighing softly, a hopeless chuckle left his lips. “As livid I am that he got into my stuff, and that I was drugged by a six- year-old, it brought me back to you,”

“I suppose it did,” You smiled. “As long as he promises to keep from your stuff, and to come to talk to you instead of taking matters into his own hands... I don’t see any harm.”

Draco nodded and pulled you into his arms, finding comfort in your solace and steady compassion.

“So...” You drawled, pulling away from him. “You kept my letters?” A mischievous smirk fell upon your face as you raised an eyebrow at him.

“Yes,” He admitted, defeated. “I know, I know. It’s wrong and—” You burst out laughing, causing him to pause.

“I kept yours too,” Beaming at him, you reached up and stroked his cheek. “Granted I didn’t read them until again the day we got caught in the rain...”

Draco chuckled softly and drew you in for a kiss, marveled that you were even standing in front of him.

______________________________

There was a day that Draco did ask me. Another four words that made my heart soar and want to scream from the rooftops that he was truly mine. It had taken some time, make no mistake. It was redefining what it meant to be married and figuring out what it meant to marry for love and not advantage, but we made it. There was love, patience, and a strong foundation.

“Ginny, I can’t do this,” I whispered, tearing my eyes away from the mirror. “I... I’m not a wife... I—”

“Hush,” She ordered and fixed a hair that was out of place. “You’re the perfect one for him,”

“But... me? Getting married? I can’t.”

“You love him, don’t you?” She tested, and I nodded, not trusting my voice. “And you can’t see a day without him in your future?” I nodded again, fighting back tears.

Ginny’s face softened. “I know,” She took my hand. “It’s a lot and it’s scary sometimes, but you deserve this. You deserve a happily ever after with a man who is willing to do what it takes to give it to you,”

I looked down at the floral lace of my dress, blinking away the moisture in my eyes.

“Maybe you’re right...” I murmured.

“Of course, I am,” She smiled and picked up my bouquet, offering it to me.

Cannon in D began, and the door opened. My veil hid the water in my eyes and the fear on my face. Fears that faded when I saw him at the end of the aisle. He looked just as nervous as I did. It made me smile. It was so like him to be nervous about this. I almost laughed.

I took Harry’s elbow and inhaled deeply.

“You look beautiful,” He murmured.

“Thank you,” I mumbled back as we made our way down the aisle.

Harry placed my hand into Draco’s, and I felt secure. I felt safe and sure of my future. My eyes darted to Scorpius who I had seen grown up the past couple of years. He waved to me and I giggled before turning back to Draco.

There were tears in his eyes as he beamed down at me, our vows exchanged, and rings placed.

“Don’t you cry,” I scolded quietly. “Because then I’ll start crying,”

“I’ve waited so long for this day,” He defended. “I’m allowed to cry,”

I laughed as my husband leaned down and pressed his lips to mine, sealing our promise to each other.

masterlist

more like this:

beautifully beastly

together in paris

Tags: @coffee-addicti @msmcsmutt @ravn-87@artemismohr18@whygz @crazywritingbug @fuzzy-panda@bitemebro522@zombiesnips-blog@savingdraco@welcometomyworldwithoutrules@akari180@slytherin-emerald@memalfoy-spidey@queenfeatherwings@fanficflaneuse @go-whovian-universe@spicyshenanigans@darling-im-not-okay-i-promise @dietkiwi@katsukink@takemetothekingdom @strangerr-things @tmnt-queen@hxneybgb@justsomerandomgur@belcvayelena@moviesbooksandfandoms@howdycharlie@cocochanelthepupper@ninacotte @braelynn-j @jiggllyy @darcypotter-blog @atomicpunkrock @thiccheerioss@lottie289 @beautiful-pegasus @tceedlmao @deadlynyghtshayde@iconjuresnapeingrandmaclothes @anonymous034 @bi-andready-tocry @lunna-does-real-doodle @dragonsandbread@okaydraco @the-queen-of-hell-things @cmxreader @alienmotel@oh-itsnothing @sunflowerxsadnessw @fattycooter @thisisahugemistake @fanficsigottaread @gweaslvy@strawberriesonsummer @gaysludge @cleopatera @ray-of-sunrise@artist-bby @shadowsingeraxolotl @quillsareforwriting@ghostlytoadalmondhairdo @wollymalfoy @lilpieceoftoast @paper-cats @floweryjh @sdicapriox @peachesandpinks @hufflautia@livize75 @annie-mcl @riathearora @live-like-luna@justathoughtfulangel @coconutdawn @skteaiy @wannabeskinny-thinspo @naughtygranger @dragonsandbread @abundantxadorations @moony-artnstuff @myforeveryoungblog@and-then-a-girl-with-luv @1-800-luvsick @pandas-rice-field@mrvlfangirl3190 @in-slytherin-we-trust @emmaa-t@introvertedrae @infinity1o1 @stoleurmomsvan @echpr @dekulover @marshmallowtraver @cereuselle @lonely-skywalker@xlosttdreamss @sleepysnapesnake @hoeforthefictional@coldlilheart @helen-paris @romance-geek @rosie-starlit-sky@californiaa-babyy @vulture-withafile @hogstupefy @littlepanda-love @eveft @iraniq @groovyfluxie @cool-weirdo-wannabee-author@siriusblackdies @rosegold-thorns @criminaly-supernatural@annie-mcl @ghostofdolans @bforbroadway @mxl-foyrecs@ginger-haired-queen @bex4whovian @kellyrose193 @scrunchinn@unlikelygalaxygiver @marvel-trash-was-taken @one-edgy-bitch@supersouthy @narcissism-iskey @garbagejay@rejectedlonelyasianchild @lucymxwell @coldlilheart@cha0ticbisexual @elia-the-bibliophile @biggalaxydreamland@fuckbuckyyy @hopem1218 @anchorclifford @youareinllve@tyrusparker @3rdofkingdomtrees @whamitsqueen @i-mmunity@zero-nightshade @graym01 @fandomtrash88 @snakey-drakey @ceeellewrites @alluringshawn @thatguppienamedbae@pinkleopardss @angel-blogging @xhoney-bee-x@thehippyprepster @jovialthings @samanthahaigwood @minigigglybabi @clumsy-writing-rdb @eggsb03 @lahoete @yourenotafailureoverall @m-winchester-67 @shiningstar-byulxx @hmpfkoo @clumsy-writing-rdb @dracosathenaeum @dracofeltonmalfoy @harryslouis @destiel-stucky4ever-loki-queen @iilovemusic12us

1K notes · View notes

amispnrewatch · 4 years ago

Text

SPN 1x06 “Skin”

Okay, I’m gonna try to type while I watch this time instead of forgetting this blog exists until the episode is almost over.

You can tell the footage for the previously on segment was saved on a VHS copy instead of the original film that the show was shot with because even in the HD iTunes version I have it looks low quality as fuck. And jumpy in the way that brings me back to my teens watching the WB all the damn time.

I love this song. WTF is this song. Shazam says “Good Deal” by Mommy and Daddy. I… have no comment, except that it sounds like everything I was listening to in college at the time this shit was airing.

Aaaaand not!Dean turns around to face the SWAT team after obviously torturing some woman. THAT is a cold open.

I wanna know what that car is in the background. It’s pretty. Maybe a convertible Impala? They have similar grills. This is not at all important.

Also, I love that with these higher definition versions of the episodes you can see that Sam’s email is lawboy and whatever dot com and that people in the fandom have started calling him Law Boy. It’s hilarious.

DEAN: Well, what exactly do you tell ‘em? You know, about where you’ve been, what you’ve been doin’?

SAM: I tell ‘em I’m on a road trip with my big brother. I tell ‘em I needed some time off after Jess.

DEAN: Oh, so you lie to ‘em.

SAM: No. I just don’t tell ‘em….everything.

DEAN: Yeah, that’s called lying. I mean, hey, man, I get it, tellin’ the truth is far worse.

SAM: So, what am I supposed to do, just cut everybody out of my life? (DEAN shrugs.) You’re serious?

DEAN: Look, it sucks, but in a job like this, you can’t get close to people, period.

Aaaaand now I have Dean and Cassie feelings again and we haven’t even gotten to her episode yet.

SAM: No, man, I know Zack. He’s no killer.

DEAN: Well, maybe you know Zack as well as he knows you.

Aaaaaand now I have Dean and Lee feelings and we’re nowhere near Lee’s episode in season 15.

YOU JUST BLEW THROUGH A STOP SIGN DEAN WTF.

Little Becky. Oi with the reusing of names.

Of course Sam made friends with a bunch of rich kids while he was at college in a desperate attempt to try to be normal.

SAM: You know, maybe we could see the crime scene. Zack’s house.

DEAN: We could.

REBECCA: Why? I mean, what could you do?

SAM: Well, me, not much. But Dean’s a cop. (DEAN laughs.)

DEAN: Detective, actually.

I love that Dean was like “how dare you call me that.”

Okay, after a bit of research, I totally want to take a day trip to Bisbee, Arizona, but it’s already in the 90s here in the desert and it’s not even May so that trip is going to have to wait until… winter or something. There is no way in hell I’m going deeper into the desert when the weather gets hotter.

It’s a historic mining town tourist trap looking place now which is exactly the kind of shit I love.

SAM: Bec, look, I know Zack didn’t do this. Now, we have to find a way to prove that he’s innocent.

I mean, not technically, technically you would 1) NOT FUCK WITH A MURDER INVESTIGATION YOU’RE NOT LEGALLY INVOLVED IN BECAUSE ANYTHING YOU FIND WOULD BE INADMISSABLE IN COURT 2) find evidence to provide a reasonable doubt for the jury that he did commit the crime. You know, like a lawyer would need to do, Law Boy.

DEAN: I just don’t think this is our kind of problem.

When I made my husband watch this show with me (he’s seen it all at least once now over the years) this is the recurring thing that drove him crazy.

You guys can’t even go in through the back door? Or shut the front door behind you? Really?

REBECCA: (tearfully) Well, there’s no sign of a break-in. They say that Emily let her attacker in.

Yeah, that doesn’t even really mean that she knew her attacker. Just that it was someone she let her guard down around or got in some other way. See: The Son of Sam and Nightstalker, etc.

Love the pinup magnet on the fridge. I’d throw shade at that, but I have a pinup magnet on my fridge too so… pot kettle and all that.

Okay, both people in the next couple are gorgeous.

And oh wow those special effects changing eyes… wow.

This poor couple. I feel so bad for them in this episode.

How… how are the police gonna explain the way he was able to beat himself over the head with a bat??? I…

I love that 5:30 in the morning on TV is clearly like… 10 AM.

Okay, this is a really unrelated point, but the graffiti on the dumpster here reminds me of the Teen Wolf fandoms use of the name Void!Stiles when Stiles Stilinski was possessed by a Nogitsune… I just spent way too long digging through YouTube and my Tumblr tags from back when those episodes were airing looking for a few specific videos and couldn’t find them. The TL;DR reason I bring it up here is goofball, bi-coded main character guy getting possessed by an entity set on destroying the people he loves. SOUNDS LIKE THIS EPISODE AND A WHOLE LOT OF SPN RIGHT. I love that all these monster hunting shows call out to each other.

This scene haunts me years later and I don’t even WATCH Teen Wolf. I just watched the fandom on Tumblr collectively lose it’s shit then tripped down a Hale Pack fanfiction rabbit hole.

ANYWAY

Back to Supernatural, a show that also treated its fan base, cast, and characters like garbage! Huzzah!

DEAN: Well, there’s another way to go—down. (They look down and notice a manhole.)

I’m gonna be mature and ignore the double entendre there…

But I love that Dean thinks of the world in 3D. Which sounds like a dumb statement to make, but this is honestly a good example of that in action.

SAM: I bet this runs right by Zack’s house, too.

Really Sam, sewers run by houses? SO WEIRD. I WOULD HAVE NEVER GUESSED.

DEAN: You know, I just had a sick thought. When the shapeshifter changes shape—maybe it sheds.

SAM: That is sick. (DEAN puts the bloody pile back on the ground.)

Guys, there is a WHOLE ASS EAR in that pile of yuck you’re looking at. I think it’s pretty safe to assume the shapeshifter indeed sheds its skin like a snake. A much… gooier snake.

Sam’s friend is rightfully pissed at him for fucking with the crime scene.

This is before the pearl gripped guns?! Wow. I never noticed that before.

Also, this whole episode gives me feelings.

++++

Cool. Tumblr mobile ate a whole section of my notes on this when it crashed for NO APPARENT REASON. Love that.

It always boggles my mind that actors can trust the people they’re working with enough to let people “tie” ropes around their neck or put them in actually dangerous positions in a scene.

SHAPESHIFTER: He’s sure got issues with you. You got to go to college. He had to stay home. I mean, I had to stay home. With Dad. You don’t think I had dreams of my own? But Dad needed me. Where the hell were you?

SAM: Where is my brother? (The shapeshifter leans in close to SAM.)

SHAPESHIFTER: I am your brother. See, deep down, I’m just jealous. You got friends. You could have a life. Me? I know I’m a freak. And sooner or later, everybody’s gonna leave me. (He backs away.)

SAM: What are you talkin’ about?

SHAPESHIFTER: You left. Hell, I did everything Dad asked me to, and he ditched me, too. No explanation, nothin’, just poof. Left me with your sorry ass. But, still, this life? It’s not without its perks. (He laughs.) I meet the nicest people. Like little Becky. You know, Dean would bang her if he had the chance. Let’s see what happens. (He smiles and covers SAM with a sheet.)

This exchange is just… so much. So many feelings. And I will forever (unless we magically get a fix-it fic mini season someday…) be SO MAD that none of this got resolved in that pointless, trash heap of a finale.

REBECCA: Okay, so, this thing—it can make itself look like anybody?

SHAPESHIFTER: That’s right. (She chuckles.)

REBECCA: Well, what is it, like a genetic freak? (The shapeshifter laughs.)

SHAPESHIFTER: Maybe. Evolution is about mutation, right? So, maybe this thing was born human but was different. Hideous and hated. Until he learned to become someone else. (REBECCA looks around, uncomfortable. The shapeshifter’s eyes glint silver, and he smiles.)

It always amazes me how much of this show is a pile of accidental queer allegories parading around in an ill-fitting toxic masculinity suit.

Vulcan mind meld! I love nerd!Dean. Also, I’m rewatching Star Trek: TOS with my husband, because that is what my life amounts to these days, rewatching comfort TV and flailing over the bits I love.

This post does a better job than I can do of pairing up screen caps with the dialogue of this next scene. SIX EPISODES IN. They’re dumping all of this character depth SIX EPISODES IN. FUCK THIS SHOW FOR NOT EMBRACING ITSELF.

Okay, I love that he screams back in her face after he threw the phone. It’s not something to laugh at because the situation is horrifying, but I can’t help laughing at it every time.

AND THE WAY THEY CUT THESE SCENES. Going from him winding his hand back to backslap her directly to him dropping the chains on the table to show how hard he must have hit her without actually making the actors hit each other. Good job editing department!

I… don’t understand the shifter’s motivation for killing people. If he can take over people’s identities without killing them, why kill them? Is it just because he’s a homicidal, rapist piece of shit? Cause that’s all it seems like.

How did the SWAT team even know she was being attacked? Why can the snipers aim no better than Storm Troopers?

Ugh, these kind of transformation body horror scenes are exactly why werewolf stories have never really appealed to me much. Like, I could do without watching your ribs move and teeth fall out, dude.

BUT.

THIS FUCKING SCENE.

I looked up the song that’s playing over shapeshifter!Dean being caught by the SWAT team and then going through the grotesque transformation. (And as far as I know, the iTunes version has the original music from the episodes.)

It’s a song called “Mary” by The Death Riders

Who's your mother, who's your mother here boy // Who's your mother, whos your mommy dear // Who's your father, who's your father here boy // Who's your father, who's your daddy dear

Silently screaming // Where everyone knows // Daddy's always watchin' // Where everywhere - everywhere I go

I don't wanna be a freak show pretty boy anymore // I don't wanna be a full time slave // I don't wanna be your midnight cowboy anymore // I just want to be Mary

This is… a fascinating choice. Here are the rest of the lyrics. The song as a whole has a weird incesty kinda vibe to it? Kinda like when SPN tries to straight-wash itself and misses the mark wildly. (Like Dean’s male siren episode.)

The midnight cowboy line reminded me of 12x11 and the bull riding scene with “Broomstick Cowboy” by Bobby Goldsboro playing over it

Dream on, little Broomstick Cowboy, // Dream while you can; // Of big green frogs, // And puppy dogs, // And castles in the sand.

For, all too soon you'll awaken; // Your toys will all be gone. // Your broomstick horse will ride away, // To find another home. // And you'll have grown into a man, // With cowboys of your own. // And then you'll have to go to war, // To try and save your home.

And then you'll have to learn to hate; // You'll have to learn to kill. // It's always been that way, my son; // I guess it always will.

Because, you know, why not add tons of feelings into the lyrics, right?

Props to the people who can embrace their rewatches and reclamations of the show with ease. Because every episode seems to remind me of how hollow and tragic Dean’s ending was and I just… struggle all over again.

Anyway, back to the episode so I can move on with my day.

REPORTER: An anonymous tip led police to a home in the Central West End, where a S.W.A.T team discovered a local woman bound and gagged. Her attacker, a white male, approximately twenty-four to thirty years of age, was discovered hiding in her home. (A sketch of DEAN appears on the screen.)

DEAN: Man! That’s not even a good picture. (SAM looks around cautiously.)

SAM: It’s good enough. (He walks away.)

DEAN: Man! (He follows SAM.)

(CUT TO: Alley. DEAN and SAM are walking. DEAN steps into a puddle.)

DEAN: Ugh, come on.

I love that we get two tiny little back-to-back vanity moments for Dean here. One commenting on the sketch artist rendition of him being broadcasted on the news and the other tripping in the puddle. There is literally someone running around the city trying to kill people while wearing Dean’s face, but Dean is still concerned with how he looks appears to others. He’s still concerned with keeping up his own performance. The shifter left him with just a t-shirt, so he doesn’t even have his usual comfort layers on and at any moment someone could spot him and call the police or try to kill him for assaulting Sam’s friend. His life is wildly out of control in that moment and the only thing he can try to focus on is his appearance (something semi-controllable) and finding the shifter before any of that other shit can happen.

One day I want to put together a like top 10 episodes focusing on / explaining each TFW character from the series. Like the kind of list you could show someone who’s never seen the show, but has OPINIONS about the characters (or who hasn’t seen the whole show and seen the growth they went through… you know, like the people responsible for the travesty of 15x20). This episode would be on that list. I’m not sure how I could manage to make a list of only 10 episodes to understand Dean Winchester by, but eh.

SAM: What are you gonna do to me?

SHAPESHIFTER: Oh, I’m not gonna do anything. Dean will, though.

SAM: They’ll never catch him.

SHAPESHIFTER: Oh, doesn’t matter. Murder in the first of his own brother? He’ll be hunted the rest of his life. (He picks up a sharp knife and examines it.)

Speaking of season 15 in general, this right here. This was Chuck’s villain story arc thesis statement. AND THEY DROPPED THE GODDAMN BALL WITH IT. I think that’s the thing that honestly pisses me off the most these days (about 5 1/2 months from when the finale aired) is that they tried making the whole thing a tragedy but did such an awful job with it that it just ended up like a deflating condom balloon at a dive bar concert. Disappointing and gross. The finale for season 14 set them up SO FUCKING WELL and it just… didn’t get there.

Becky’s parents are gonna be pissed at how torn up their house is after all this shit…

And you’re not shooting him when you first see him strangling Sam because…?????

I like that he took the necklace back. Also, is this kinda Dean death number .5 of the show? Like it wasn’t him but it was also kinda him. Eh.

At least they left the windshield on Baby this time. Reflections are better than tearing her apart.

#SPN 1x06 #amispnrewatch #reclaiming spn #performing!dean #lawboy #bi!dean #dean x cassie #dean x lee #stiles stilinski #void!stiles #teen wolf #dean deserved better

47 notes · View notes

quicksilversquared · 5 years ago

Text

A Very Jagged Take-Down Ch 1: Dissonant Chord

Marinette knows Jagged Stone, everyone knows that. She's his favorite niece, never mind the fact that they aren't actually related. And Jagged Stone is really famous, the exact kind of person that Lila loves claiming connections to.

That was never going to end the way Lila wanted it to.

(a collection of one-shots)

links in the reblog

Jagged Stone could admit that sometimes, he was a little bit oblivious to how other people were feeling. He was a little too boisterous, too distractible, too caught up in his own thoughts and ideas and plans. It caused problems, sometimes- Jagged had butted heads with more record managers than he cared to think about because his artistic vision differed from theirs, and sometimes he didn't come off particularly well in interviews because he was too busy thinking about other things to notice an interviewer trying to ask a different question- but he was working on it, and if he was oblivious to something, well, he did have Penny to clue him in.

Still, Jagged Stone had been trying to improve. Penny had been pretty stressed out on several occasions recently, and he had wanted to ease some of her load by being at least a little more observant. He had thought that he was doing really well.

Considering that he had apparently missed his niece's upset mood during his last visit to commission a stage outfit from her, he apparently wasn't doing as well as he wanted to.

"What do you mean, she was off?" Jagged Stone implored Penny again. "Penny, if I'm going to learn..."

"She was hiding it pretty well, to be fair," Penny assured him. "Especially when you were looking. But when your back was turned, she looked kind of stressed."

Jagged Stone frowned. That wasn't a good thing! Maybe he could help, though. "Do you know what she was upset about?"

"Do I- no, Jagged, I cannot figure out what people are upset about by looking at their body language!" Penny exclaimed, clearly exasperated. "And I didn't want to pry, not when she was trying to be professional with coming up with ideas for your commission."

Jagged Stone considered that. Then he perked up. "Do you think that you, just maybe, could sneakily bring it up with Marinette when you go over with my measurements tomorrow? If I can help my niece with anything, I want to!"

"Yes, yes, I can try," Penny promised, and then she sighed, rolling her eyes. "And we've talked about this, Jagged Stone. Marinette is not your niece."

"Who says that she isn't?" Jagged Stone demanded, planting his fists on his hips. "My niece in rock-n-roll! Her CD cover and glasses and the songs they inspired put me back at the top of the charts. I am an artist, she's an artist- family in actually kickass artistry!"

He didn't understand why Penny was rolling her eyes. Really.

Penny returned the next day with several design sketches and barely hidden anger bubbling away under her professional demeanor. Jagged Stone picked up on it right away, ushering Penny into their room at the Grand Paris and getting her settled with a platter of her favorite chocolates.

He was rather proud of himself for that, really. He was learning! He hadn't missed Penny's stress!

"I found out what happened," Penny told him, inhaling a chocolate in one bite. She chewed angrily, then swallowed. "A week before we went over for brainstorming, Marinette got expelled from her school after getting framed for cheating, thief, and hurting another student. The other student walked back on her claims the next day," Penny added hastily before Jagged Stone could grab his guitar and storm over to Dupont to bash their blundering principal over the head. He hadn't been impressed by the man the one time- or was it two times, he really couldn't remember- that they had met, and clearly there was a reason for that. "And her expulsion was retracted. But she's still facing some skepticism from her teachers and classmates over the whole thing."

"Who would want to frame Marinette?" Jagged Stone demanded, thoroughly baffled. "Marinette is fantastic! They'd have to be a cruel, heartless soul to do such a thing."

"Yeah, well, that's kind of what this girl sounds like, honestly." Penny took another angry bite. "Marinette was telling me all about her. It's the daughter of a diplomat- or that's what she claims, at least- who keeps making up all of these stories about things she's done and people she's met. Marinette is one of the only people who doesn't believe a word she says, and the only one willing to call Lila out."

Jagged Stone nodded in approval. "Calling out bullies and liars is very rock and roll!"

"Less so when it gets her framed and expelled, but yes." Penny flopped back in her chair, then perked back up. "Something Marinette said- well, it sounded almost as though the liar girl was claiming connections to you. She stopped herself before I could get much more out of her, though."

He nearly exploded with indignation at that. "The liar girl is trying to use me to boost her status? How dare she! And going after my niece while she does-"

Penny sighed in exasperation. "No matter how often you say it, Marinette isn't actually your niece-"

"I'm going to put a stop to this nonsense," Jagged Stone announced, surging to his feet as a surge of energy hit him. Maybe he wasn't going to be in Paris for the next couple of weeks because he was on tour, but, well, that just gave him time to plan. "No liar will use my name to hurt Marinette! Now, if I can grab my computer-"

"We're meant to be heading to the train station to go to London in twenty minutes," Penny reminded him. "For a meeting in London with the new record company you were considering switching to."

"Of course! Penny, I would be lost without you." Jagged beamed at her, then dashed across the room. "I can bring my computer on the train! Plenty of time to think there, no problem. We have a private compartment, so I won't even be interrupted!"

Behind him, Penny could only sigh.

It wasn't hard to find more information on the liar in Marinette's class. All it had taken was going to Marinette's social media, going to her Ladyblogger friend's page, and from there finding Alya's personal blog.

He felt a bit strange flipping through a teen girl's personal blog and it certainly wasn't something he would ever do normally, but Jagged Stone was on a mission and Alya's blog was a veritable treasure mine. Not even three minutes after he first found the blog, Jagged Stone had learned who the liar girl in question was and had found several of the claims that she had made, all so absolutely outrageous that Jagged Stone had to wonder how anyone believed them in the first place.

But outrageous or not, they had also given him an idea.

Lila had claimed that she had saved his cat, and that he had written a song for her in thanks. Now, he definitely wasn't going to be thanking her for anything, but he could certainly write a song about her.

It wasn't going to be flattering, and it wasn't going to call Lila out by name- Penny had helpfully informed him that doing so would probably land him in legal trouble, even before he had been able to voice the idea (which was super rock-n-roll, actually, that they were so much on the same wavelength!)- but the details that he was going to refer to, courtesy of the blog, would mean that anyone familiar with Lila would know exactly who he was referring to.

Jagged Stone already had some lyrics scribbled out on a sheet of paper and a couple bars of music to go with it, and it was going to be a banging song. Like, top-of-the-charts, definitely-on-the-radio, impossible-to-miss banging.

"The main problem I'm foreseeing here is that it takes time to release a song," Penny reminded Jagged as she bundled him and Fang into a town car and then got in herself. "You need at least seven songs usually in an album, and then there's the studio time, you know that, and-"

"So it'll get released as a single for now," Jagged Stone told her, because obviously he wasn't going to leave Marinette hanging for longer than he had to. What kind of uncle would he be if he did that? "Singles take less time! I can probably have a demo by the end of the week, and then if we can get a recording studio in any of the cities that we actually spend some time in, then I can get the tracks recorded and all ready for mixing and- oh!" Jagged froze, struck by the most perfect idea. "If we can get Marinette to do the cover art for the single, that would be perfect! Then she gets her bully taken down and some money besides- yes, I'll tell her about it right away and work around her schedule, Penny, I already know that- and I get some more awesome art!"

Penny rubbed her forehead, right between her eyebrows, but didn't protest further. "All right. But you know that if you want a cover that'll go along with the single, Marinette needs some direction. I just don't know how you'll keep it all a surprise."

"She can get the background demo tracks and a prompt list of words," Jagged Stone told her at once, because he had already considered that. He had been working on getting better at not leaving all of the thinking and planning up to Penny, too, even if she hadn't quite gotten used to that yet. "That will help her come up with a cover. And look, I've already started!"

"I...see that."

By the time they had boarded the train and were halfway to London, Jagged had gotten the main part of the song written down. The lyrics just needed tweaking, the drums could probably be shaken up, and he wanted to add a few more backing tracks and play with some effects, but he had been inspired and it showed.

"I'll check it against your other songs after the meeting and make sure that you're not accidentally borrowing from an old song," Penny told him as he enthusiastically tapped his pen against the seat of his chair, trying out different drum beats with the tune. "And then I suppose we can start work on demo tracks, if you're so determined to get this out fast."

Jagged Stone grinned. "That sounds perfect."

In what was surely Jagged Stone's fastest turnaround time ever, he was ready. The song was written, the demo tracks had been polished up into the final tracks and had been professionally recorded and mixed, Marinette had gotten the single's art done (and it was amazing, of course, somehow absolutely perfectly fitting the song even though Marinette hadn't heard the lyrics yet), and everything was ready, all within a month's time.

(His new record company was none too thrilled that he hadn't given them time to promote it, but, well, he was big enough to drop a new single out of nowhere and have it succeed, so did it really matter?)

And then it dropped Monday morning. By mid-morning Paris time, it had exploded all over the radio and thousands of people had bought it already. His new record label was applauding it as a huge success, all of their complaints about the lack of promotion forgotten, critics were already praising both the song and the cover art-

-and Jagged Stone didn't care. He was more focused on if the song had done its work and had gotten rid of Marinette's liar problem.

"You are not allowed to call her up and beg to know what's going on," Penny instructed him sternly. "Marinette is in class right now, and you know that she'll reach out and keep you updated when she can. Now either sit down and stop pacing, or go give Fang a bath. Heaven knows that that will keep you busy."

"Oh, I suppose." Fang deserved a bath after putting up with their most recent bout of traveling, after all. Travel grime was ugh, even on a crocodile. "But let me know as soon as Marinette texts! I won't be able to check my phone, since my hands will be all wet, but I wanna know!"

"I promise. Now go, shoo- you're distracting me!"

Jagged shooed.

Marinette had been a bit distracted all morning, and for once, it wasn't because of Adrien or her Guardian duties.

Ever since Jagged Stone had told her that he was going to be dropping a new single soon and asked her to do the art, Marinette had been looking forward to the song coming out. She didn't know what the song was about, exactly- Jagged Stone was being strangely cagey about getting any more specific about the lyrics- but he had sent along a basic demo track along with a few prompt words for her illustration and it sounded amazing. She could only imagine how awesome the final version- properly mixed, with all of the instruments ironed out and vocals and everything- would sound.

(And now it had some pretty awesome art to go along with it, if Marinette said so herself- dark, seething greens in the background stood in stark contrast to the trails of shimmery gold dust in the forefront. It was more abstract than some of her other covers, but Jagged Stone had proclaimed it the coolest thing ever and tossed her a bonus on top of the already-generous commission price, which was amazing.)

And then, right before lunch, Nino gave a shout of surprise.

"Jagged Stone just dropped a single!" Nino announced, waving his phone at everyone. "I didn't even know that he was thinking about releasing anything! Lila, did he tell you?"

"Well, yes, but he asked that I keep it secret," Lila said at once, pressing a hand to her chest. It was a common look on her, faux-humble in a sickly sweet way that made Marinette want to gag. "I even got to listen to it before it got released, and it's fantastic."

"This art is sick!" Nino exclaimed. Marinette peered over his shoulder, and- yup, Nino was already in the process of buying it. "'Not All That Glitters is Gold- man, I gotta get a poster of this art, I bet that the non-digital version actually does glitter!"

Marinette hid her smile. It did, actually.

"Yes, they're a fantastic artist, aren't they?" Lila bragged. "They're a very private person, but I introduced them to Jagged Stone- I thought that he might want a professional artist for this song."

All eyes shot to Marinette, waiting with bated breath to see her reaction. After a second, Lila gasped dramatically, hands flying to her mouth. "Oh! Not- not that there was anything wrong with the album cover you did, Marinette, just that-"

"It's funny that you say all of that," Marinette said, her voice icy-cold. "Because I did the cover art for Jagged's new song, and I have the art- with all of the layers, in case you want to claim that I just downloaded it- plus the in-progress demos that I sent to Jagged Stone, plus the invoice for that commission to prove it."

The class went silent.

"And you didn't introduce me to Jagged Stone, he reached out to me," Marinette added on. "And I have the emails for that, too. So you can cut it out with the lies now."

"Oh, silly me, I must have gotten the single mixed up with Jagged's next full album," Lila tittered hastily. "The professional that I recommended to him must be doing the full album, and I just misunderstood."

Marinette was pleased to see that this time, not everyone looked entirely convinced.

"Ms. Bustier, can we please listen to Jagged Stone's new song?" Nino asked as their teacher entered the classroom, shoving his hair up into the air. "Please? Marinette did the art, and Lila's already heard it because she's friends with Jagged!"

"Well, I suppose you can put it on while I get the lesson set up and collect the homework," Ms. Bustier said with a laugh. "That's so exciting, you two! Nino, you know how to connect to the room's speakers so that we can all hear it? At a reasonable volume," she added hastily as Nino got up. "If we get any more noise complaints, then we won't be allowed to have any music on for events for the rest of the school year."

"Got it, Ms. Bustier!"

"I can't believe that you got to do another cover for Jagged Stone!" Alya said excitedly as Nino hooked up his phone. "And you didn't say anything!"

"Of course not. Some of my commissions are secret-"

Marinette was cut off by the oh-so-familiar opening chords of Jagged's newest song, and she trailed off. The accompanying horns were new, and definitely attention-catching and fantastic. Marinette's breath caught in her throat, already blown away.

And then the lyrics started.

At first, Marinette didn't really hear anything out of place. Then she caught a mention of kittens on a runway and sat up straight. All around her, murmurs gave away that other people had heard the same thing and everybody sat up and listened as the song swung around into the chorus.

'Not all that glitters is gold! Hiding behind lies that were told

A dollar-store gem trying to pass herself off as a diamond!

Claims of connections abound, but none of her stories are sound

A liar, through and through!

Adrien spun around in his seat to look back at Marinette, just as Marinette realized what Jagged Stone had done and clapped her hands over her mouth in silent glee. He quirked an eyebrow at her, mouthing a silent did you ask him to do this? and Marinette shook her head.

No, she hadn't asked. She had mentioned Lila to Penny, though, after Penny had asked about why Marinette had been so down. Her parents had probably said more, if she was really being honest, and Penny had no doubt told Jagged Stone, who then came to the very logical and oh-so-Jagged conclusion that the best way to deal with the problem was by writing a call-out song. A call-out song that, by the sounds of it, included references to more than a few of Lila's lies, not just her ones concerning Jagged Stone, so there was no way to mistake who the song was referring to.

She definitely hadn't mentioned all of those to Penny.

In the back, Lila had gone white. More than a few classmates had turned around, sending her disgusted looks. Alya had frozen in her seat before whipping around, murder in her gaze. Even Ms. Bustier was looking incredibly suspicious as she made the connection between the lyrics and all of the stories that Lila had told over the months.

Lila's reign of lies had come to a very abrupt end, heralded by the sound of horns.

"You didn't even know that he was going to do that, did you?" Adrien asked her as soon as the song came to an end. "You looked so surprised!"

"He didn't let me hear the lyrics at all!" Marinette exclaimed, and wow, now she knew why. She was honestly starting to feel teary, because Jagged Stone had written this song for her, because she had been upset after Lila's expulsion attempt, and she knew just how much work went into making a song, and it- this was incredible. "Or really anything beyond vague prompt words. I knew that he knew about Lila, because Penny asked why I was feeling down and I told her, but this..."

Marinette would have assumed that just bursting into class would be more Jagged's style, over-the-top and impulsive and immediate, but maybe he had just been too inspired by the topic and the idea of a song to think of that. And whether or not that was the intention, the song was so catchy, so bound to be popular, there was no way that Lila would be able to escape it. She would be hearing it on the car radio, playing in the train station and on the bus and in the mall. If Lila was on her own, she could leave, or turn it off. But if she was with classmates, or her mom- assuming that her mom didn't actually know what Lila had been up to all this time- then Lila would have to sit and stew.

...maaaybe that wasn't a great thing if she was going to be staying in Paris, but with any luck, it would drive Lila so mad that she would leave.

"That's one heck of a call-out by Jagged!" Kim cackled loudly, breaking through the muted muttering. "Wow, how ticked off did you have to make him for him to go out of his way to write and produce a song calling you out?"

"No, it's not what it looks like- I swear, he's just, uh..." Lila was floundering. There really was no easy way to get out of this, but clearly she was going to try anyway. "You know not all song lyrics are literal! I did save his cat, and he did write a song for me, it's just that-"

"What's the name of the so-called song Jagged Stone wrote for you called, then?" Nino asked sarcastically. "'Clinging to the coattails of fame without any dignity'?"

Marinette choked on a laugh before hastily trying to hide it. Across the aisle, Chloe was far less subtle as she cackled in delight, clearly thrilled by Lila's messy downfall.

Marinette wasn't surprised. Chloe was far less impressed by connections and tall tales than a lot of their peers, but she was absolutely the sort of person to be bitter about how much attention Lila had been getting. It meant less attention on Chloe, and that just couldn't stand.

"Okay, class, please settle down!" Ms. Bustier implored. She was glancing around the classroom, clearly trying to figure out a path forward. "Ah, Lila, let's step out to talk to the principal and call your mom."

"No, but a song from a rock star is hardly considered any sort of reliable source, surely!" Lila cried, still not willing to give up and come quietly. "He's met thousands of people, why would everybody assume that he's talking about a real person? That he's talking about me?"

"Lila. Now."

Finally looking properly wilted, Lila gathered up all of her things in a rush, stuffing them roughly in her bag before heading out the door in front of Ms. Bustier. All around Marinette, whispers started up, some people comparing notes on stories Lila had told and finally (FINALLY) looking them up, others looking up the lyrics to the song. Marinette ignored them all, fumbling for her phone and pulling up Jagged Stone's contact number.

Seriously, how was she supposed to thank him? He had gone to so much work, gone so far out of his way, just for her. Because it was for her, Marinette knew that. Jagged Stone had plenty of over-eager fans that sometimes went overboard with things, and of course there were tabloids that loved to make up stories about him. Jagged Stone ignored all of them the best he could- well, until they got too intrusive, at least, like that one photographer- instead of slapping back. There was no reason for him to go out of his way just for Lila, when she looked at it that way. Lila and her lies wouldn't even appear on Jagged Stone's radar, if it weren't for Marinette. But that hadn't made a difference to Jagged.

Seriously. Best. Uncle. Ever.

(Well. Best not-technically-an-uncle ever. After all, Penny always insisted that Jagged Stone couldn't just adopt Marinette as his niece, no matter how much he wanted to.)

With shaky fingers and happy tears blurring her vision, Marinette texted a quick thank-you to Jagged, hoping that he could feel all of her gratitude through the few simple words that she managed to pull together. Without the constant threats from Lila hanging over her head- either because Lila would be gone or because she would be so thoroughly discredited by everyone that she would be powerless- and without having to constantly be at odds with most of her friends about Lila and her lies, Marinette's days at school would be much more enjoyable and relaxed.

Penny glanced at Jagged Stone's phone for the fifty-seventh time in an hour and a half. His phone kept lighting up with all sorts of messages- from his new producers, from celebrity and non-celebrity friends alike, from his family members- and she had kept checking it, noting messages that needed to be responded to as she did.

It was exhausting, especially since Penny had her own correspondence to attend to- questions about integrating the new song into set lists, requests for interviews about the new song, and an ongoing back-and-forth with Jagged Stone's lawyer to make sure that he wasn't going to get in legal trouble for the song (since no names were mentioned, he was in the clear as long as he didn't call out Lila during any interviews, but she just wanted to be prepared). Frankly, Penny was tempted to put Jagged's phone on mute and just ignore it for a bit before checking to see if Marinette had reached out. After all, she would be in school right now, so the likelihood of Marinette and her classmates being able to listen to the song before lunch was, well, rather low-

Message from: Marinette Dupain-Cheng

-but Penny supposed that it wasn't entirely impossible.

"Message from Marinette!" Penny called out, and there was a yelp and a clatter as Jagged Stone dropped the broom he was using to scrub Fang to dash out to the main room and snatch up his phone. He grinned at the message, whooping in triumph.

"They listened to it in class and all of her classmates figured it out right away!" Jagged announced. "And the liar girl got carted off to the principal's office and her mother is being called, so she's dealt with. Score!"

"Yes, good job," Penny told him, resigned to hearing about it for the next month, at least. Jagged Stone was going to be too caught up in the euphoria of his success to be much use, so she would have to deal with all of the setting up appointments. "Your idea worked, Marinette's bully has been dealt with. Can you relax now?"

Jagged didn't seem to hear her. "You know what, I'm going to call up room service and we can all have a feast to celebrate! And- oh, I should text Marinette back, 'cause I wanna get any more updates! I just want to make sure that the little eel doesn't manage to slither out of punishment again. I doubt even she can get out of it now, but I gotta follow through!"

Penny could only sigh as Jagged Stone bounced away across the room. As he went, Penny could hear him singing under his breath.

Tea with a prince, talking about charity

She's too kind, too good to be

Working to save the world, she always tries

Except everything she says are self-serving lies!

Not all that glitters is gold! Hiding behind lies that were told

A dollar-store gem trying to pass herself off as a diamond-!

#Miraculous Ladybug #my writing #A Very Jagged Take-Down #Jagged Stone #marinette dupain cheng #adrien agreste

1K notes · View notes

ahgaseda · 5 years ago

Text

to kill an empire || chapter 24

⇥ synopsis : when you agreed to marry Jaebeom, the heir to a lucrative but not quite legal organization, you never expected the boy who was once your greatest rival would inevitably become your most powerful ally…

⇥ warnings : this story in its entirety includes but is not limited to strong language, recurring gang violence, mentions of drug or alcohol abuse, and explicit sexual content, and is intended for an adult audience only!

The car drove into the night. Jaebeom gazed out the window, elbow propped on the door and his fingers against his lips. He could still taste you on his tongue.

Jinyoung frowned, whispering, “I have a bad feeling about this.”

“I know he’s pulling Yuto’s strings,” Jaebeom murmured bitterly, the lights reflecting in his dark eyes. “He put the idea in his head.”

Jinyoung exhaled roughly, like it pained him.

“I have to go through with this, Jinyoung,” Jaebeom cut through the silence, thinking of you. “This is the only move he’s not anticipating. I have to draw him out.”

Jinyoung bobbed his head. He knew the plan. Jaebeom had discussed it with him and only him at length. No decision Jaebeom made went without Jinyoung’s consultation. Jaebeom respected his knowledge and discernment.

It wasn’t that Jinyoung disagreed with the move. He just knew the danger that would come with it.

Meanwhile, you rejoined the party after smoothing down your dress. Jaebeom’s kisses still caused your heart to race wildly. Glancing around, you couldn’t hide your disappointment at not seeing your husband. Jaebeom left immediately after parting from you, just as he said he would, but that did nothing to ease your heartache. You wanted to be in his arms again.

Gliding across the main hall to find your mother where she sat, someone slipped into your path and gathered you in their arms. It took a moment of confusion for you to realize Yuto was taking you for a spin amidst the dancing couples and your first instinct was to claw out his eyes.

“Behave,” he warned under his breath. “Your lovely mother is watching.”

You scowled at his grin and followed his line of sight, seeing he was flashing a smile at your mother seated at the distant table. With no other options in a room full of shareholders, you put a hand on his shoulder and followed his steps.

“Do mine eyes deceive me or did you just step out of the women’s lavatory?”

You growled, “Does relieving my bladder interest you?”

Yuto could barely stifle his annoyance. “I find it interesting that Jaebeom also came out of the same bathroom.”

Though Yuto studied your face for a reaction, you gave him nothing. It didn’t surprise you he was watching. You expected it. “He must have been lost,” you replied, noncommittal.

Yuto tightened his grasp around your waist and leaned in closer to whisper in your ear, “My sweet sister, you disobeyed me.”

“I did what you wanted. I broke his heart. I filed for the annulment. In exchange, you don’t touch him.”

Yuto clicked his tongue, spinning you in a quick circle. “You only lasted nine days,” he taunted. “I’m disappointed.”

“I hurt him,” you said, reminded of the image of Jaebeom on his knees. “He’ll never trust me again.”

Yuto pursed his lips in frustration. “You didn’t do enough damage.”

Those words cut you deep and filled you with rage. Gripping his arm roughly, you hissed, “Yuto, one more word and I will have my father tear you to pieces.”

“I’ve enjoyed this dance, Mrs. Lim,” he crooned, pulling your hand to his lips and kissing your knuckles.

You ripped your hand away, wiping it on your dress. “You got what you wanted. The annulment will affect investor confidence. Jaebeom will step aside. You’ll have Lim Corp.”

Jaebeom never wanted it anyway, you thought to yourself.

Yuto smirked and sauntered away without another word. You glared daggers into his back.

Hwasa appeared at your side forcefully and you then realized why Yuto was quick to depart from you. He must have seen her coming and everyone knew Hwasa was not afraid to cause a spectacle.

“Shit. I’m sorry. I was making out in the coat room,” she huffed, pulling your arm to loop with hers. “Are you okay?”

You patted her hand. “It’s fine. We had a very productive, civil conversation.”

“Really?” she gawked.

“No.”

Hwasa shook her head in amusement. “Ready to go back to my place and eat junk food?”

“Yes, please.”

Hwasa had given you an open, extended invitation to stay at her penthouse for as long as you desired. You readily accepted the offer, preferring her company than that of your unbearable mother.

You curled up in the guest bed and tried not to think about Jaebeom. You missed how he smelled. How warm he felt against your back. You wondered if he was thinking of you. Was he drowning his sorrows with strong liquor?

Rolling over, you grumbled and pulled the blankets higher around you, but it did nothing for your tossing and turning. You weren’t the type to use the word madness often, but this was it.

Eventually, you fell asleep and it felt like only a moment later you were rudely woken by the door crashing open. Jolting beneath the blankets, you sat up and exclaimed, “What the hell?”

Hwasa grabbed the remote to your television and said, “You have to see this.”

The screen came to life and she panned to the news. You could hardly believe your eyes.

“Lim Corp is now solely run by heir apparent, Lim Jaebeom.”

“What?” you gasped, settling on your knees and reading every word that scanned across the screen.

The anchorwoman continued, “The takeover occurred last night when Lim presented the signatures of every member of the board needed to unseat his father and become Chief Executive and…”

Her voice faded in the background as you searched your brain for an answer. Jaebeom was dreading the day he would be the head of Lim Corp. What had possessed him to do this?

It could only mean that for the last nine days Jaebeom had set out to campaign for and win the votes from the entire board of the corporation, men that had served his father faithfully for decades. Jaebeom would have had to manipulate them and blackmail them to earn their votes.

Jaebeom wouldn’t do that, you thought with a resistant shake of your head. Another explanation crossed your mind. One that was much more plausible.

He managed to convince them his father was no longer fit to rule.

You rubbed your face, pushing away the sleep. Jaebeom’s father would be murderous. He would fight this to the death. That man valued his power above everything else. Including his own sons.

Hwasa turned to you and said, “This has to be about Yuto.”

“Oh, god,” you murmured, shaking your head. “If Jaebeom went to all the board members and told them about Yuto - how his father has been hiding a bastard son all these years.”

Hwasa nodded. “The stocks would plummet. The future head of the company would technically be up in the air. Bastard or not. He could still contend for a seat at the table.”

You scoffed, not amused. “If it’s one thing we’ve learned as heiresses, men will live and die by their damned stock prices.”

Hwasa snorted.

You moved to the edge of the bed, letting your legs dangle off the side, and folded your arms across your chest. It still was out of character for the boy you knew and loved. “Things like this don’t just happen,” you mulled, referring to the takeover. “The chairmen of the board would have had to be completely unanimous in the decision.”

Hwasa sidled next to you on the bed and suggested, “He seized the company so Yuto couldn’t?”

You sighed, “I don’t understand. Jaebeom doesn’t want this company.”

“Then, he did it to spite his father?”

You chuckled and defended your husband, “No, Jaebeom does petty things out of spite. He does big things out of strategy.”

Hwasa looked back at the television, the coverage still fixated on Lim Corp. “Yeah, but…,” she continued. “The person most hurt by this is Jaebeom’s father. He’s been deposed.”

You never liked to think about your father-in-law. He was kind to you, but he was ruthless to Jaebeom. Your husband had finally begun to confide in you just how merciless his father had become as the ruling tyrant of a powerful company.

You had plenty of memories of your own where Mr. Lim was concerned. There was a reason you feared and avoided him as a child.

“Jaebeom’s father has always used Yuto against him,” you explained softly. “Always threatened that if Jaebeom didn’t prove himself worthy, he would make Yuto the heir.”

Hwasa wasn’t surprised, and was swift to add, “And Yuto has been making a name for himself in Japan. Trying to prove to his father he’s a better fit than Jaebeom.”

You grit your teeth angrily. “Jaebeom told me his father hates that he has a soft streak and has been trying to break it out of him ever since.”

Hwasa exhaled, lifting the remote and turning off the TV.

You looked down at your hand, lingering your gaze on your wedding ring.

Hwasa brought a palm to your shoulder, rubbing gently.

“Can we go out? I can’t spend every day thinking about Jaebeom,” you whispered, almost shameful.

“He is your husband,” Hwasa teased, trying to make you smile.

“Shopping?”

She clapped her hands and leapt from the bed. “Excellent idea!”

You knew that would work.

Hwasa drifted from boutique to boutique, dragging you along. With time and her constant energy, you enjoyed yourself, trying desperately to put Jaebeom out of your mind. You wanted to call and ask him why. Not that he would ever give you a solid answer.

You trusted he knew what he was doing. Jaebeom surrounded himself with smart people, people that had his best interest in mind. You convinced yourself Jaebeom was doing whatever he had to do to fix it. To make it so you could be together again.

Everywhere you went people were abuzz with the news. Lim Corp was one of the largest companies in the country. The takeover was national news.

With Hwasa’s limousine sufficiently stacked with shopping bags, the two of you took to walking through the plaza, sharing a cup of rice cakes. You appreciated the comfortable silence in the company of your best friend.

“Who were you making out with at the gala?” you asked a moment later.

Hwasa finished the rice cake in her mouth and chattered, “Oh my gosh, you remember that hot guy friend of a friend of Jinwoo’s?”

“Friend of a friend twice removed?” you teased with a laugh.

“Ugh, kisses like the devil himself,” she purred, licking her lips.

You chortled, tossing the now empty cup into the trash bin you passed by. Surrounded in a sea of people, you didn’t notice the man following closely in your wake.

Gunshots fired behind you and Hwasa. So close your ears began to ring. Fight or flight response kicked in, but your body chose to freeze.

An arm appeared around your waist and in an instant you were being dragged backwards.

Screams filled the plaza. Hwasa had her hands raised at her sides in the universal gesture of surrender, but her voice was muffled in your ears. She was pleading with someone, begging them not to hurt you.

Your captor backed against one of the pillars in the square, holding you like a human shield in front of him. You couldn’t breathe. You couldn’t think.

Hwasa was screaming for help, dialing frantically at her phone. A security guard raced forward from god only knew where and leveled his gun at the man currently holding you in possession, but given your position, the barrel of his gun was pointed directly at you.

“H-Hwasa,” you finally managed to say. The arm around you immediately tightened.

Your ears began to clear from the pounding flood of adrenaline. Whatever exchange between the man holding you captive and the officer aiming at you both was suddenly paramount in your mind.

“Tell me what you want,” shouted the guard. Hwasa was at his shoulder, revealing to him who you were and yelling angrily into her phone.

The words that followed from the man clutching you against him made your blood run cold, “I want you to tell Lim Jaebeom that I have his wife and if he’s not here in fifteen minutes, I’m going to shoot her…”

chapter 23 ⇤ chapter 24 ⇥ chapter 25

Hey there, beautiful! If you enjoyed this, please leave a like or reblog or follow me! Or maybe buy me a coffee so I can keep writing? Or check out my masterlist here for more stories! Thanks for reading :) - Katya

This work is fictional and for entertainment purposes only, but is licensed and protected under a creative commons attribution-noncommercial-noderivatives 4.0 international license. Any instances of plagiarism will be dealt with accordingly. Do not re-post or translate without my permission.

#got7 fanfiction #jaebum smut #im jaebum smut #got7 smut #jaebum scenarios #got7 scenarios #jaebum fanfiction #got7 fanfic #jaebum fanfic

314 notes · View notes

endof-theline · 3 years ago

Text

Day 20- Tropetember: Accidental Marriage

Day 20 of super early Tropetember with Accidental Marriage! Tony wakes up in a hotel he's never been to and with one of the worst hangovers of his life... oh and a surprise waiting in his bed.

On Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/32712019

Tony groaned as he woke up, his head pounding as he screwed his eyes shut. The light coming from the open window burned his eyes from behind his eyelids, the feeling of bile rising in his throat that Tony just tried to keep down by pretending it doesn't exist.

It was only when Tony stretched back that he felt another body beside him making him jerk and flinch away from the body making his stomach rebel against the amount of alcohol he had consumed the night before, he went to pull away but found an arm wrapped tight around his waist.

The body tugged him closer and nuzzled at his neck, Tony both wanted to melt into the touch but also rip away from him as fast as possible.

"Hey pal, kinda need you to wake up" Tony said as he rocked the arm around his waist, he heard the body groan from behind him before Tony yelped as he was pushed from the bed "What the hell, man?!"

"Who the hell are you?" The man asked who was still in the bed, the sheets slipping down to show his muscled chest and missing arm.

"I could ask you the same thing" Tony snapped as he sat up from the sprawl he had landed in, the feeling of being sick had dimmed now that there was shock and pain to deal with now. Tony glanced at himself and realised that he was only wearing underwear, his eyes going wide as he looked up to the other man panicked.

"I don't think we did, I've got underwear on too" The man shook his head as he pushed his long hair out of his face with a huff "My name's Bucky, what's your's?"

"Uh Tony, my name's Tony" He said awkwardly since it's been a while since someone hasn't immediately recognized him, but as he thought that he could see Bucky's eyes go wide in shock.

"Like Stark, Tony Stark?" Bucky squeaked and Tony just laughed slightly as he nodded "Oh god, Steve is never going to let this go"

"Please don't tell me Steve is your boyfriend" Tony groaned as he stood up and sat on the edge of the bed, rubbing his face with his hands sleepily.

"Oh god no, Steve's like my brother!" Bucky refused quickly making Tony sigh thankfully, Bucky shuffled to sit beside Tony and yawned "So what do you think happened last night?"

"No clue, we were definitely drunk as hell judging by my head and stomach" Tony grumbled and scanned the room for any hints, the clothes scattered around the room didn't give any hints other than it looked like they were heading down the path of sleeping with each other.

Tony jerked at the sound of his ringtone, recognizing it instantly as Rhodey's song, and he started rummaging through the clothes until he found his phone still in his trouser's pocket.

"Tony! Where the hell are you?" Rhodey shouted down the line making Tony flinch from the noise and groan at him annoyed.

"Not so loud Honeybear, I'm safe in a hotel, I'm fine" Tony reassured him quickly as he rubbed his temples, nodding when Bucky gestured that he was going into the bathroom.

"Do you have any idea what happened last night?" Rhodey asked with no teasing or joking tone to his voice making Tony's heart start beating hard.

"N-No, why? I woke up with a guy in the bed and he has no clue either, I'm guessing he's involved" Tony said nervously and he flinched again when he heard Pepper shouting in the background, he couldn't make out what she was saying but it didn't sound good "You're freaking me out, what happened?!"

"Tony, that guy is your legal husband, you ran off and got married to him. Pepper's checked his background and he's clean, but you're legally married to him" Rhodey explained as Tony's body froze in a panic, he could the toilet flush and the tap running before Bucky strolled out with a stretch.

"We're married" Tony blurted out making Bucky whip his head around in shock, his eyes going wide as he stared down at Tony who was just staring right back.

"Excuse me?!" Bucky squeaked as he slumped down to the floor, Tony couldn't help but feel bad for the guy especially with Tony's bad reputation.

"We got married last night, we got drunk and got married" Tony repeated as he still had trouble believing it himself, Bucky just nodded slowly again before Rhodey cleared his throat.

"Jarvis has got your location, both of you get dressed and we'll talk somewhere secure" Rhodey said in his 'take no shit' voice so Tony nodded before realising that Rhodes couldn't see him.

"Yeah, okay, we'll get dressed and meet you out front, alright?" Tony agreed before Rhodey hung up and the pair stood up, Tony just pulling on his clothes as Bucky fumbled around for a moment "It'll be okay, we can get annulled or divorced straight away and I can pay you for-"

"I don't want your money, Tony, it's okay" Bucky shook his head before pulling on his jumper and still looking around confused "I just, I don't know where my prosthetic is"

"Oh, oh shit, okay. Then I'll either track it down or get you a new one, don't worry Bucky" Tony comforted him as he quickly started tapping away on his phone, going back over his locations and trying to track it down as he waited for Bucky to finish getting ready to go.

Tony pulled Rhodey into a tight hug before climbing into the limo like car with Bucky at his side, Pepper smiled at them both poliety as they sat down, Rhodey getting in as well before calling out to Happy to go. Bucky was playing with his empty sleeve awkwardly as he kept his eyes down and on his lap.

"I think you're missing this, Mister Barnes" Pepper said as she handed him a duffle bag, Bucky frowned and unzipped to see his prosthetic bundled in clean towels "As far as I know, it should work as normal but if you try it out before you leave then Tony can fix any issues, isn't that right Tony?"

"Oh yeah, of course!" Tony nodded enthusiastically as he grinned at Bucky who just smiled right back "I've been interested in prosthetics for ages, never had a chance too though"

"Well I'm sure you do could make much better ones than some of the shit out there, mine's not the worst there is but it's definitely not great" Bucky's smile was blinding and Tony instantly knew why drunk Tony had seen something in him, he was exactly Tony's type and his personality from the snippets Tony had gotten would have made him fall in love instantly… to bad he had to screw it up.

"Well maybe you can be my inspiration and test subject if you're up for it?" Tony tested the water and when Bucky nodded, both of their smiles only got wider.

It took a week of working together before Tony gave up, it had been a month since they were accidently married and it had somehow taken a backseat with both of their lives. It became much more important to the pair of them to make the world's best line of prosthetics, starting with arms obviously since that's what Bucky needs and he was Tony's personal test subject.

The pair having to spend a lot of time together as Tony learnt as much as he could about the way Bucky’s arm worked, a lot of late nights and long hours as they also started to learn about each other. Bucky has a large family and lives with his best friend Steve in Brooklyn, he’s a gym teacher at the same school that Steve is an art teacher in. Tony also debunked a lot of rumors that Bucky had heard about him, Bucky wasn’t one for gossip and rumors but working in a school made it difficult to avoid hearing about celebrity gossip.

Tony knew that the more he learnt about Bucky, the further he was falling. Every time they met, Tony was scrambling for reasons to make Bucky stay longer than needed, even if it was just for dinner or a drink or to watch a movie Tony had ranted about during their session in the lab.

It was just a week before Tony grabbed Bucky and pulled him into a kiss, they had been celebrating that Bucky's new arm worked, it was lighter and it didn't hurt Bucky like his old one had done and Bucky had looked so happy and Tony just couldn’t resist anymore.

Tony kissed him and just before he was about to pull back and apologize, Bucky grabbed his waist with the new arm and pulled him closer as he deepened the kiss. Once they finally pulled back and rested their foreheads together to pant into the tiny space between them, Tony spoke up with a cocky grin on his face.

“Maybe we should give this marriage thing a shot before I lose you” Tony teased before Bucky leant away but cupped Tony’s cheek with his free hand since his other was still around Tony’s waist and he purred lowly:

“With a mouth like that, you ain’t gonna lose me easily doll”

#tropetember #eotl writes #fanfiction #winteriron #Bucky Barnes #Tony Stark

4 notes · View notes

demigodlunar · 4 years ago

Text

Scars - Chapter 3

Wow, people have already read this sooo fast! Thanks so much, I appreciate it :D

_____________________________________________________________

Chapter 3 - Take Over With Grace

“Mr. Grace?”

Jason was jerked out of his fantasies of being a normal child- for about the millionth time- when he heard his last name being tossed out carelessly in the large crowd.

He shielded his eyes from the camera’s flash setting and the just the sight of the showy clothes of the countless paparazzi and media that were here for the interview.

“Mr. Grace, what do you have to say about the shares in the stock market for Olympic Inc. going down last week?”, one of the nameless news reporters asked, arousing another round of nods and agreement.

And once again, Jason sighed in relief that the question wasn’t directed towards him. He was Mr. Grace, yes.

But not to the public. To the public, Jason was just a secretary or student intern that happened to be at the interview. No one important. His father, Zeus Grace, was the one that was being bombarded by questions.

Jason could hear his father's loud and commanding voice over the racket of the others, answering the question with a calm, precise tone and reassuring words. He gulped, being reminded once again that this could- would- be him soon.

The annoying little voice in the back of his head whispered again, you’re almost 18. Almost time to take over the company.

Jason tried to keep the headache at bay. He hated the fact that soon, he wouldn’t be a normal 18-year-old boy without a care in the world. After he graduated from high school next year, Jason’s father wouldn’t even bother sending him to college. He would take over Olympic Inc. the moment he threw his square graduation cap in the air.

Jason could remember a distinct memory from when his parents were still talking to each other.

~~~~~~~~~~

8-year-old Jason Grace peeked out from behind the door to stare into the living room, where his parents were yelling at full volume, not even caring to lock the door or try to reduce their voices to not scare the children.

“He’s just 8 years old,” his mother, Beryl Grace, screamed, “A child! You can’t bring him into all your business and politics, I won’t allow it!”

“He’s my child, so I will decide whether I start teaching him how to take over the company when he’s older, and introduce him to the press.”, Zeus yelled back with just as much vigor.

“Your child! YOUR CHILD!” Beryl screeched, “He’s my child too! You already told the world about Thalia and now she can’t even leave the house without the media asking her if she’s going to take over the company!”

Jason winced at his mother’s voice, not even understanding what they were so upset about. If they could just talk it out, maybe they could come to an understanding.

“Thalia will not be taking over the company,” Zeus argued, taking on a defensive tone, “I vowed only my first-born son would be the head. Besides, Thalia wouldn’t want to take over. Once I tell the media that Jason will be the new CEO, they will get off her case.”

“And then what about Jason? Then they start stalking him? AT 8?” Beryl yelled, screaming a string of words that almost made Jason’s ears bleed afterward.

“Fine,” Zeus said, deadly calm, “Until Jason is legally an adult, we will keep him hidden from the public. I will still teach him what he needs to know, but he can be seen as a normal boy at least until then. Then, he will take over the company.”

Jason stood there, trying to figure out what “take over the company” and “new CEO” meant. Now, Jason was a smart boy, but this seemed to stump him. Would he become like Daddy? Working all the time and wearing those tight looking suits and ties?

Ew.

Jason didn’t want to do that, that seemed boring.

He turned his attention back to his parents in the living room, and they had calmed down excessively. He tuned into the conversation to hear what they were saying.

“... you take Thalia and I will take Jason,” Zeus said, holding his hand out to Beryl.

She stared at it for a couple of seconds before grabbing it and shaking it briskly, “Deal, but they have to be able to meet. They love each other, you know.”

Zeus sighed, “Of course, every Saturday and Sunday?”

Beryl nodded and she started walking to the door that Jason was hiding behind. Jason jumped back as she pushed it open and walked up to Thalia’s room.

The next hour was a blur and all he remembered was Thalia crying and yelling that she didn’t want to go, and that made Jason cry too. He didn’t like to see his sister cry, she was really good to him. After they both calmed down, Jason learned a new word.

Divorce. It rolled off his tongue but in a bad way. When your parents left and lived in different houses.

Well, Jason thought, At least I will get to see them still.

But living with his dad was something that Jason never got used to.

~~~~~~~~~~

Jason was startled out of the memory when a finger snapped under his nose three times in quick succession. He looked up bewildered at the snapper. Thalia grinned down at him and put her arm around him.

“Hey, little bro! Spacing out again I see.”

Jason rolled his eyes but smiled fondly, “You're only one year older. Besides, I was just thinking of when I have to take over the company.”

Thalia’s easy smile disappeared, and she frowned, “I still can’t believe that dad is giving you no choice at all. I mean, you're wasting your life on something that will never make you happy.”

Jason sighed, every time that this topic was brought up Thalia made the same argument. He tugged at his tie, feeling uncomfortable all of a sudden.

“Just let it go, Thals.”

Thalia huffed but didn’t add any more fuel to the conversation. Then, she smiled widely. Jason almost tripped from the sudden change of attitude.

“I just remembered! I gotta go, little bro, Piper is having brunch at her place today,” she said while wiggling her eyebrows in a weird way.

Jason felt heat rush to his cheeks when his sister mentioned Piper Mclean. He could remember the first time he saw her.

It was in the hallway during their freshman year. He saw her stand up to Drew Tanaka when she was bullying some poor boy who looked at her wrong or something. When she yelled at Drew and embarrassed her in front of the whole hallway, Jason felt like he’d been shot.

If it wasn’t enough that Piper was a kind-hearted, brave person, she was also painfully beautiful. Even when she cut her hair, and wore baggy clothes, she was still extremely gorgeous. She also never noticed him.

It was safe to say that he had a very big crush on her.

“R-really?” he stammered, blushing, and wishing he never told Thalia about his crush in the first place because she found a reason to make fun of him for it all the time.

Thalia smirked and whipped out her phone and went to her messaging app, bringing up Piper’s contact.

Thalia wanted to introduce Jason to Piper to help him with his hopeless crush, but he’d voted against it. As painful as it was, he couldn’t be introduced as Thalia’s brother, because that would mean explaining their complicated family tree, including Percy (who Jason hasn’t heard from in years) and the fact that he would be a CEO of a famous company in a little over two years.

Jason brought his attention back to Thalia’s phone, where she was texting Piper. Their conversation was pretty casual.

(AN: Thalia, Piper)

Today - 11:34 AM

hey Pipes

hey Thals

wassup

nothing much, you?

i’m here with my brother at one of my dad’s interview things

Jason almost shrieked, but that wouldn’t be very manly of him. Instead, he shook Thalia’s shoulder forcefully.

“THALIA!” he winced as his voice squeaked.

“What?” Thalia frowned at him.

He stared at her, and sudden realization dawned on her as Piper’s reply came.

you have a brother?

“Oh shoot, oh shoot, oh shoot!” Thalia yelped, juggling her phone like it was on fire, “Oh my gods, what do I say? Should I say I was lying?”

“Yeah, because she’ll definitely believe it if you say ‘oh I was just kidding, sometimes I imagine I have a brother!’ She would think you’re crazy!” Jason deadpanned.

Thalia glared at him, and then she sighed resignedly, “Well, she knows now, and she’s one of my good friends, so I may as well just tell her the truth.”

Jason didn’t like that idea, but Thalia was already texting Piper again. He looked at the screen to see the conversation again.

yeah

EXCUSE ME, but how come you’ve never told me about him?

never came up

fine, you win, for now. show me a pic?

And in the next second, Thalia found a picture of Jason laughing at a joke that Hazel made, and sent it.

Jason made a mad grab for her phone, but it was too late. Oh no, he looked so dorky in that picture.

“Chill it bro, you look fine,” Thalia said, her eyes still on the screen.

Then, her face looked like she’d hit a gold mine, and she pushed the screen in front of Jason’s face.

oh, that cute boy you sit with at lunch sometimes? He’s really good looking.

Jason almost dropped the phone, and stood there rooted to the ground as Thalia cackled in the background.

Piper. Piper Mclean. Thought he, Jason Grace, was good looking?!?!? Jason felt like he might die.

Thalia wheezed as her laughing fits started subsiding, “Oh-oh my gods. Th-that was amazing!”

Then she typed a reply to Piper.

yes, he is, and he’s also here looking at our conversation.

Thalia erupted into another bout of laughter, and Jason waited for Piper to respond. But she didn’t.

He didn’t know how to feel about that.

Jason’s watch beeped, and he remembered that he was supposed to be heading to Hazel and Nico’s apartment to hang out. He waved goodbye to Thalia (who was still laughing like a lunatic) and made his way back to the apartments where his cousins lived.

Gods, he needed to clear his head before he went brain dead, and spending time with family, other than his dad, helped with that.

My, oh my, this was gonna be an eventful year. _____________________________________________________________

Hehe, there's some Jiper for ya. Poor Jason, being stifled like that... I can relate :(

-Blossom ;)

#percy jackon and the olympians #soulmates #percabeth #caleo #solangelo #jiper #frazel #heroes of olympus #pjo fanfic #pjo angst #jason grace #thalia grace #piper mclean

10 notes · View notes

surveys-at-your-service · 3 years ago

Text

Survey #475

(from two days ago, oops)

What is your favorite background noise? (Ex. Water dripping, people talking.) I really like a steady rain tapping on the windows. Do you like taking selfies? Why or why not? No, because I'm ugly. It's annoying because I've been wanting to take pics with Girt considering even as just friends literally none exist of us, but yeah. I fucking hate taking pictures of myself and it takes a billion and two tries to get a picture I deem "acceptable" anyway. Were you named after anyone? No. What was the last comic book you read? I don't and never have read comic books. What is your heritage? German, Irish, and Polish. Describe the worst friend you have ever befriended. All things considered, somehow my former best friend was the worst. She was homophobic, racist, extremely self-centered, drama-driven, excessively bossy, ungrateful... I will never be able to explain how our friendship ever worked. If you found the recipe for immortality, would you sell it or would you burn it? Burn it. With certainty. We just aren't meant to live forever. What is the most embarrassing, cringe-worthy thing you have ever done? 99% of my life has been Cringe. What is the worst thing someone could do on a date? Be distracted/not pay attention to the other, like by constantly using their phone. It's so rude. That would immediately make me lose interest in you. If you could turn one legal thing illegal, what would it be? I dunno. What is something you swore you would never do when you grew up, but you did anyway? I was absolutely going to college as a kid. Fast-forward to the future, I've dropped out three times and am going nowhere. Little me saw me as so, so much more successful. Do you actually iron your clothes? No. Unless it's a formal occasion. Do you rent or own your current home? We rent. Have you ever used cursive after school, aside from your signature? My handwriting is naturally mostly cursive. Do you have your groceries delivered or do you buy them yourself? We order our groceries for pick-up, so we have to go to the store, but not in. Do you have a gym membership? Sigh. I do, but Mom and I have really been neglecting going since my time with my personal trainer ran out... What’s your favorite computer game genre? Horror, of course. Do you have any exes your parents never liked? No. Have you ever been severely mentally ill? I am. What was the last thing you purchased from a small local business? I don't know. Have you ever used chewing tobacco? EW no, that shit grosses me out so much. If someone’s laughing, do you instantly think they’re laughing at you? Suuuure do. How would you react if your parents told you they were having another baby? Well, they're divorced, Mom cannot stand my dad, and she also had a complete hysterectomy when she had ovarian cancer, so like... Have you ever had a garage or yard sale before? How much did you make? Over the course of my life, we've had a few yard sales. I don't remember how much we made at any. Have you ever had to evacuate your home for any reason? No. Which mythological creature is your favorite? DRAGONS. I love dragons. Have you ever been to a butterfly garden before? No, but that sounds amazing. What's the biggest bird you've ever seen up close? Oh my god y'all, when I volunteered once at a wildlife rehab center, I was FEET away from some sort of falcon. Guys, you would not believe JUST how big birds of prey are. I was shocked and in total awe. Have you ever seen a double rainbow before? More than once. Were you ever afraid of the dark as a child? I don't THINK I was? What is the strangest thing you’ve been asked? Something inappropriate that really pissed me off. What was your favorite game as a child? I was obsessed with the original Spryo trilogy and would play all three obsessively. What is the darkest thing you have seen on the internet? I don't know, dark shit. Do you crack your knuckles, neck or toes constantly? No, but ugh Girt does that with his neck and it drives me insane alsdkjfaljdlfkwe. Are you constantly catching colds or other sicknesses? No, my immune system is a legend. Are you afraid of mice? No, they're precious. What type of souvenir do you usually purchase when on vacation? I go on vacations so irregularly that I can't really answer this. I've been on a vacation maybe twice in my entire life. Do you own more than one copy or edition of a book? No. If you could see any musical on Broadway right now, what would it be? I don't like musicals. Will you willingly sing in front of other people besides your family? God no. Do you eat soup when you’re sick? No. I don't like soup. Who can never fail to make you laugh? Absolutely my boyfriend. He's the funniest person I know. Have you ever been on a tour bus? No. Do you prefer listening to things through headphones or speakers? Earplugs. Are you listening to music right now? No; I'm watching Gab play The Evil Within. Have you ever unbuttoned your ex’s pants? Just one of them, but we were together at the time. What are you planning on eating for dinner tonight if you haven’t already? Mom made pizza. What was the worst news you’ve heard this entire week? Girt's mother has Covid. He's vaccinated, but nevertheless, he's still getting a test done just to be safe, and also because if he's contracted it, I might have it. And that means my mother could get it, which just cannot happen, even if she's vaccinated, too. The poor guy is really freaking out about it, but ASTONISHINGLY, I'm not panicking yet. Girt's health has seemed fine, I'm fine, so... We'll just have to wait to see what his test says. Do you have a lot of trees around your house? What about buildings? No; yes. I hate living in the suburbs, it sucks here. Would you say either one of your parents are 'pack-rats?' No. Have you ever disowned anyone in your family? For what reasons? No. Has anyone ever called you a sociopath before? No. Do you have freckles? Do you like/dislike them? Not on my face, no. I have a few randomly on my body though. Would you ever consider getting dreadlocks? No. Have you downloaded extra fonts for your computer? Oh, plenty. Who is the latest great YouTuber you’ve discovered? The latest, uhhhh. I'd probably say John Wolfe as a truly "great" one considering I watch him regularly now. Do you read the Bible regularly? Yeah, no. All the Bible does is piss me off, frankly. Name three patriotic songs you like. I don't know about three, but I do shockingly like this one country song with a name I can't remember. All I know is it has "red, white, and blue" in the title. ... I think. Oh! There's "Deutschland" by Rammstein, even though it's not about my own country. Has it ever snowed on your birthday? Maybe at some point as a kid? Idr. Do you like the way your name is spelled? No, actually. I wish it was "Brittney." It's more true to the pronunciation. Do you believe in astrology? Not in the slightest, and while I really shouldn't care, like believe what you want, it's a genuine pet peeve of mine when others base their fucking lives around what positions some goddamn stars are in in an infinite universe. They make decisions based on bullshit being spat at them that might not be suitable. I know, it's stupid to care, but I can never seem to NOT roll my eyes when I see/hear people blaming their flaws and shit on this stuff. Are you one of those people who has like a hundred apps on their phone? No; I have very few. What’s the band that you love even though you know they’re awful? I can't help but love some Blood on the Dance Floor songs. :x Do you coo over other people’s babies? No, not really. Like I can acknowledge a cute picture and be like "awww," but it's nothing I lose my mind over at all. What is something that makes you very squeamish? VOMIT. If you’re out of high school, have you stayed in touch with your high school friends? If you’re still in school, do you think you will? The only high school friend of mine I'm still actively friends with/is still in my life is Girt, obviously. Like I have HS friends on Facebook that I still very much love and will react to what they post and sometimes comment, but we don't really talk-talk. Do you dye your hair regularly? No. :/ That's not something I can afford to do. Do you have an alter ego? Describe them: No. Do you know both of your biological parents? Which one do you prefer? I do, and I love them both. Do you store a lot of pictures you’ve taken that no one else has seen? I'm a wanna-be photographer, of course I do. If you had to name your kid after an American state, which would you choose? Probably "Dakota" for either gender. What do you use to dry your clothes? (Tumble dryer, radiator, etc) We have your normal dryer. Do you ever play the built-in games on your computer? Which ones? Nah. Do/did you doodle on your books at school? My notebooks and binders, ohhhh yes. Actual school textbooks, absolutely not. Who’d you last see in a tux? The groom and groomsmen of the last wedding I shot. Who’s the bravest person you know? Sara. Have you ever dated someone who was real sportsy? No.

#survey #surveys #random questions

0 notes

bluepenguinstories · 3 years ago

Text

Remoras Full Chapter XXXI: Treant

There wasn’t much interesting about me. Not really. That wasn’t me being self-deprecating or anything. If anything, I quite liked being in the background. Others around me have always been more interesting, and I was happy enough just to help those others out.

That’s why I worked from childhood through my adulthood in order to become a doctor. It wasn’t like a total dream of mine, and I wasn’t sure if I’d call myself “passionate” (one of my top qualities, I think, is that I’ve been called a dispassionate person. But I shouldn’t humblebrag), but when I was in grade school and saw one of my classmates get injured, I couldn’t help but be compelled to want to help them. Then there were times, like when my sister or my mom would get sick and I’d be like “gee, I wonder what would help them get better.”

Skip past many years of boring details, and the rest is history. Got my own apartment after completing my internship at one of the nearby hospitals. When my sister helped me move in, we found a time travel device in the closet that I mistook for a Nintendo 64. It’s not as interesting of a detail as it seems. Anyway, that aside, there was still work to be had just about every day.

Skip ahead a few more years after that…

...And there was still work to be had.

It was about that time in the morning when it wasn’t yet bright and early and the coffee I poured tasted like sludge. When the showers were scalding and suffocating fumes filled the bathroom, yet when I turned off the shower, I shivered like a nudist at the north pole.

Towel was too small. Quick shimmy and I groaned and threw it in the laundry basket. No one else was around to see me naked, so whatever. Even if there was, my bedroom door was closed. On the bed were my work clothes, which in my groggy state, I tried to fit the shirt on my legs and the pants on my head. After a few tries and tired moans and groans, I got it right. Still, my tie was a little loose.

I’ll fix it on my way there. Or I won’t and I’ll just say I’m setting a new fashion trend.

I glanced down at my limited edition Kamen Rider Black wristwatch and my blood pressure spiked upon noticing the time.

“Fuck,” I cursed, though in my hoarse tiredness, it sounded more like a donkey braying.

Yes, it was ‘fucktime’, that universal concept of that time of day where one looks at the time and exclaims “fuck!” There were many reasons for cursing at a time of day, and it didn’t have to be any time in particular, but the most common reason was due to the situation I was in: I was running late for work.

In a state of fight or flight (which I am always in flight since I could use the exercise), I put a couple of bagel slices into the toaster, wished that my toaster had a turbo speed button, and paced about until those two slices popped up; they weren’t crispy enough, but they’d have to do. Like the skilled painter that I wasn’t, I swiped across the two halves of the bagel with a messy gloop of cream cheese.

No more time left.

I ran out the door, or whatever constituted as a run in my mind, with the bagel halves held tight in my mouth.

This ridiculous display persisted for about...oh, to hell with it, let’s just skip all the embarrassment. Fast forward to when I got to the hospital, drenched in sweat and cream cheese on the cuff of my shirt.

“Ran late again?” The receptionist, I think her name was Wormwood, looked up from her computer. Her thick brown hair was in a bun and she didn’t just have bags under her eyes, but bags under those bags. That’s okay, I’ve had those days as well. From the reflection of her glasses, it looked like she was playing an intense game of Tetris.

“A doctor is never early nor late,” I huffed, trying to sound more self-assured than my short breath would allow.

“Yeah, you wish. Go change your shirt. You’ve got a patient waiting for you in room 413,” she clucked. Was clucked the right descriptor? Well, it was a vague chicken-like tone, so cluck was good enough.

“Why’s it always patients with me?” I joked. She didn’t so much as give a half-hearted chuckle. She could have at least said, “A for effort,” but I guess everyone was a critic. I hurried over to the hospital’s resident dry cleaner, who always had a spare pair of uniforms, scrubs, nice shirts, you name it. Our dry cleaner guy was a typical average dude with stringy red hair, named Marion or something. He always had that strung out look about him that gave the impression that he was pretty trustworthy. I showed him the cream cheese on my shirt and he made an OK sign with both hands, closed his eyes, and shook his head.

“Say no more,” he assured me in the most endearing bored-out-of-your-mind voice imaginable.

As I waited for him to grab me a spare shirt, I looked up and saw a couple of green scrubs hanging around.

“I can’t do this on my own. I’m no superman,” I hummed the tune. Marion (that might not have been his name, but it was pretty damn close to what I imagine his name was) turned and asked, “what?”

“You know, Scrubs? It’s a reference.”

“Oh, man, I don’t know the first thing about references,” he bemoaned in both a disinterested tone and a disoriented one.

Man, nobody appreciates a good reference these days.

After I received my change of shirt, I went into the nearest bathroom and speedran the Trent Dress Up game. Not to brag, but I might have set a new record that day. Okay. Moving on.

Up four flights of stairs I lumbered up, each foot dragged behind the other. Yes, I could have used the elevator, but then that wouldn’t have been very doctor-like of me, would it? I mean, plenty of doctors took the elevator, and there was nothing wrong with that, but I always tried to do healthy things. It didn’t really matter much, I mean, I was already healthy, I was just a little chubby, was all. So what? I was a big ol’ teddy bear in a lab coat. At least I rocked the look.

Twelve rooms down. Then the thirteenth: that was where I heard the assistant.

“Dr. Bark will see you now,” the assistant informed the patient. After she left, which I didn’t really get a good look at, but I’ve probably worked with her before, I opened the door and greeted the patient.

“Woof, woof!” I made my best dog voice, which probably sounded closer to a howler monkey than a dog.

My patient just looked at me, not amused in the slightest. He was an elderly man who looked like a bad caricature of an elderly man. Not one of the kind ones, either. No, more like the grumpy kind who would yell at you if you so much as lived in the general vicinity of the same neighborhood he lived in. Then again, I knew looks could be deceiving and if anything, his face was probably contorted in pain.

“Okay, so I’m not that clown doctor, but if you honk my nose, I will still make a sound,” I gave a nervous laugh as I said. He just continued to stare at me.

It turned out that he had a small seizure just as I entered the room. Lovely timing, really.

Before I could take a break and have some lunch, there were a few more fun moments, gross moments, sad moments, silly moments, the whole gamut. Really, I loved my job because there were many opportunities to treat others and get them to better health. But also I hated my job because it was a job and I hated being the bearer of big bills due to the malicious concept of private insurance.

My sister-in-law was always going on about how I should be more ambitious. How I could try to start my own clinic and treat people for free, out of the kindness of my heart. Which I loved, that really was a dream if I ever had one. But there was the matter of means. Equipment costs money, I’d need more space, I’d have to get all those good prescription drugs that all the cool cats liked. I wasn’t even sure if I could do it, legally.

But hey, if it were possible, I’d do it. For sure. Maybe.

Once I made it to the hospital’s cafeteria, I grabbed a lobster salad with a garlic roll and a pink lady apple for an extra layer of irony. It was ironic because no matter how many times I ate one of those, I could never keep myself away from the hospital. Shame, too. The busier I was, the less time I had to play Monster Hunter.

Anyway, as I looked for a place to sit, I hummed a tune I heard over the radio.

“Don’t call my name, don’t call my name, Alejandro. Fernando,” I hummed. Or rather, mumbled. Because I knew for a fact that I said those words out loud, whether or not I should have saved myself the embarrassment.

“Yes?” Crooned the seductive and husky toned voice of a man I didn’t recognize. I looked around, then noticed that the owner of such a voice was seated all by his lonesome at a table in the middle of the cafeteria.

Oh good, finally a table that’s not crowded.

I made the no-brainer decision to sit across from him at the table. His head sported a vast field of curly black hair as well as the stubble-laden remnants of a rugged black mustache. He reminded me of the guy from that Just Cause series of games, though not sure why, as I’ve never played them, though I had to admit, grappling hooks were pretty cool.

“Did you say something?” I stared into his inviting rosemary colored eyes. Mostly because I felt it rude if I didn’t. Imagine if someone did that to me, just looked away when they spoke to me. Actually, that’s probably happened many times.

“You said my name,” he replied, more plain this time, without as much of a soothing effect, but no less friendly.

“Oh? Alejandro?” I blinked, unaware that I had said anyone’s name.

“No, Fernando, but you may call me Fern. Everyone does,” he smiled as he told me, a smile as soothing as his voice could be.

“Well, I certainly wanna do what everyone else is doing,” I chuckled. “I’m Trent, by the way.”

He gave a slow nod.

“What a beautiful name. Do you know who does the song that you were singing?”

Oh god, if ever there was a time to be embarrassed.

“I just heard the song on the radio! I don’t know anything about it, I just thought it was kinda catchy.”

“I’ll give you a hint: it starts with ‘Lady��.”

Fuck. I was bad at guessing games.

“Lady and the Tramp?”

“No.”

“Lady Marmaduke?”

“No. You have three more guesses.”

Wait. He never said I had a limit of five. Now I was really feeling the pressure.

“Lady Groudon?”

“Close.”

Oh! Now I knew what it was!

“Lady Goomy!”

“...No, not quite. But really close.”

Damn. I only had one guess left, too. The heat was really on now.

“Lady Gloop?”

He bit his lip trying to hold back laughter, but couldn’t, and it all came flooding out.

“Um, did I win?” I wasn’t sure what to make of that laughter, but I had to know. I just HAD to know.

After he settled down, he shook his head and with an aching calm assured me:

“It’s not important.”

“Well, what is important, then?” I grimaced, the answer not given to me.

“The lives of our patients are what’s important.”

Yeah, that seemed a little obvious, though, considering our professions and all. Actually, I wasn’t quite sure whether he was a doctor or not. I didn’t recall ever working with him.

“What do you do here, by the way?” I couldn’t help but ask.

“I’m a nurse, mi amor.”

Once he said that, everything clicked into place.

“No wonder you’ve got that gentle voice,” I observed.

“I don’t have to be gentle if you don’t want me to be.”

“No, no,” I shook my head. “For the sake of the patients, I think you ought to be.”

We went back and forth after that, chatting about this and that, though nothing really important. Really, it was nice, I didn’t usually chat with anyone. Afterward, however, it was back to the grind. Oh joy.

Once said day one was done, I flopped on home and collapsed on my sofa. Next to me was a controller, and I had bought my copy of Final Fantasy XVI the other day, but haven’t had a chance to play it.

“My body...too feeble…” I wheezed out the words as my hands shook trying to reach for the controller. Just as it seemed like the controller was within my grasp, my phone rang.

When there was something in closer proximity than the item that I really wanted, the natural urge was to reach for the one in closer proximity instead.

“Hey Trent. It’s me,” came the sudden and to the point tone of my sister-in-law: Vesuvius.

“Oh, hey. What’s up?” I snapped to my senses and sat right up. “Is everything okay? Nothing too serious, I hope.”

“Yeah, everything’s fine. I’ve got a nice little apartment with my beautiful wife. I just haven’t spoken to you in a while and wanted to see how you were doing.”

“Oh, what a relief. I was worried you were having another mental health episode.”

“Hey! I don’t go around pointing out the time you had food poisoning, do I?” She scolded. Yeah, okay. That was fair.

She didn’t have many mental health episodes, but ever since that incident with her and Juniper’s stalkers, she had been more sensitive and more on edge. That said, I really was happy for her and that she was at peace.

“You’re right. God, that was a rough time. Who knew blueberries could be so poisonous?”

“All things in nature can,” she stated. Gee, if anyone knew that, it would’ve been her.

“How are all things with settling into the apartment?” I asked. She hadn’t been there long, but it was a bold step for her, considering her social anxiety, which she tried to act like she didn’t have.

“You know, it’s an adjustment. It gets lonely when Juniper isn’t home. I’m not used to her having anything resembling a job. I hate to sound possessive, but I don’t like that she has one. I wish we didn’t have to make money to live.”

“Be as possessive as you want,” I chuckled. “Er...within reason. Say, have you saved up for anything?”

“No. Why?”

“Well, you always go on about wanting to do that whole ‘cottagecore’ lifestyle thing. So maybe you could save for that and go for it?”

She drew a deep breath, as if she were about to blow a gust of wind out of every orifice.

“First off, I don’t know what a ‘cottagecore’ is, but I’m cautious around anything with the suffix of -core. You know I’m a delicate flower.”

“And a poisonous one,” I pointed out.

“Yes, well, poisonous flowers can be delicate. And hey! Be nice to me!”

I coughed up a chuckle.

“Okay, well, second off,” she continued. “What I want is to live off the land, in a field of flowers. Growing my own field. Having peace and quiet in the middle of nowhere.”

“Yeah, that’s cottagecore.”

“Don’t say words I don’t understand to me!” She scolded. “It’s really demeaning.”

“Okay, okay,” I tried to settle down with the teasing. “But for real, it’s not like it’s impossible. Juniper could build a house, she likes making things.” Then again, she probably wouldn’t build a house very well, but I’m sure she’d enjoy the attempt. “It may take a bit of money for the resources, but it’s not like it’s impossible.”

“Yeah, well, first thing’s first is I want to see a therapist. Like, an actual therapist.”

“Oh, that could be good for you.”

“Yeah…” Her voice trailed, and the tone of her voice shifted to a more mournful one. “I still remember how I was during that time. I have trouble believing that it’s really over. All of that pain lingers with me. It’s not something I wish to remember, but it’s something I’m unable to forget.”

“Don’t beat yourself up too bad,” I tried to reassure her. I assumed she was referring to the whole stalker incident that occurred at the same time she dealt with her mental health episode. “Everyone has a breaking point. There’s nothing to be ashamed of there.”

“No, but there is. I was confused. Desperate. I hurt the most important person in my life. I hurt someone else that I could have helped. That I could have saved. If I had just known how. If my mind was more clear back then,” her voice shifted into a growl. “I hate it. I hate inflicting pain. Especially because it’s not who I want to be. No who I am anymore,” her voice then grew sharper. Harsher. “Yet I can’t help but feel like it’s still with me, buried somewhere, and I just want to punch a wall, rip my hair out, something! Something to cut this off from me!”

“Hey, hey,” I could tell she was working herself up. “You and Juniper are both sensitive people. Sometimes people lash out when their emotions are heightened. It doesn’t mean you’re bad or anything, but you can work on it. For what it’s worth, I do think you two are good together.”

“Thank you,” her voice quieted back to the mournful tone it was at first and I could hear sniffling and weeping in the background. “I’m sorry. I told myself I would keep composed and yet I went off into that rant. Gee, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re a better therapist than the one I pretended to be.”

“Heh. It’s nothing. You’ve definitely been through a lot. Get yourself some tea or something, that might help.”

“Thanks,” she sniffled again. “What about you? Is there anything new with you?”

“Eh. Same ol’ boring stuff at the hospital. People get sick and die, some people get better.”

“To which?” She let out a weak chuckle.

“Oh, definitely the sick part. I’ve yet to someone get better from being dead, but anything can happen. Fingers crossed, right?”

“Heh…so there’s nothing new at all? What about at the house? I bet you’re glad to have Juniper and I out of your hair.”

“Eh. You guys weren’t that bad to deal with.”

“That’s a relief. Do you miss us?”

“Hmm...a bit. It’s a bit quiet now, but I like it. Means I can play video games in peace and walk around the apartment in my underwear.”

“Indeed, that is a positive. Though I didn’t need to hear the last part.”

I tried to think about anything of substance I could actually talk about.

“Oh! I met someone new at the hospital today! This nurse named Fern. He’s got these beautiful murky green eyes and maze-like curly dark hair. Oh, and his mustache. I bet I’d be ticklish if it rubbed against me,” I announced with a sense of excitement at the prospect of actually having something to say.

“Are you attracted to this Fern person?” She inquired.

While I didn’t quite know where she got that idea from, I wasn’t going to say that he was ugly or anything like that.

“I’m certainly not repelled by him,” I joked. Heh. Magnets. “Why do you ask?”

“Just curious, since you described him in such exquisite detail.”

“Eh. Isn’t it normal to describe people you talk about?”

“Not in my experience. Not like that, anyway. But hey, what do I know?”

“Yeah, well, I just met him today, so I doubt I’ll describe him every time I talk about him. He seems nice, in any case. Hey, maybe the four of us could play D&D together sometime?” I perked up at the prospect of having someone else to play D&D with. That was the most important thing about meeting someone. If not D&D, maybe I could gush about 80s Sci-Fi movies or J-RPGs.

“I don’t know...that game always brings out the worst in me...I try to be a healer but whenever I encounter a monster I just want to grind them into dust and then I curse the fact that I didn’t pick a class like barbarian.”

“Heh. That is a problem. You could always just be a barbarian.”

“No. I don’t want to,” I could tell she stuck her nose up just by her tone of voice alone.

“In any case, we gotta get this going on! We never seem to finish a campaign!” I was SO pumped to get this thing going on.

“That’s because I always either quit out of frustration or you end up too busy and we decide to start over from a new campaign as soon as you have free time again,” she pointed out. At least she was honest.

“We’ll figure something out, I’m sure!”

“Mm...well, it was nice talking with you, Trent. I’m glad you seem to be doing well, and good luck with this Fern person.”

“Thanks! You take care too! Bye!”

We hung up and I spent the rest of the day being an exhausted nerdy Trenty bear who somehow did nothing yet time still passed.

As the days went by, I’d spend lunch having conversations with Fern and he said I could talk about whatever I was passionate about, so OF COURSE a bunch of nerdy shit came up.

“About halfway through the game, she dies, but you can get her final limit break later on. This is a way to show that she’s still with the party in spirit and the party keeps it as a memento, even though they know they cannot use it, OR they refuse to use it to honor her memory.”

“I see. And it’s not just the developers making a mistake?” Fern pondered. The gall.

“No way. Game developers wouldn’t just do that. In fact, you can hack the game to make it so Aerith lives, by coming back after she dies, but she’ll say at a certain point, ‘I’m not supposed to be here’. That’s because the developers knew that players would try to bring her back, so they were prepared.”

“Wow. That really is haunting,” he looked moved by my explanation. As he should be.

“The game devs were also brilliant for making her and Cloud be besties instead of a romantic interest. There’s a part where Cloud and Aerith go on a date on a ferris wheel and right before they go on the ferris wheel, Aerith turns to cloud and goes ‘wa...wassup homie?’ and Cloud says, ‘golly gee’ in response. By having them be besties, it shows the importance of friendships over romantic relationships. It’s actually shown in a prequel that Cloud had a boyfriend named Zack, but despite it being canon, many fans prefer to act like the game doesn’t exist.”

“That’s a wonderful message for them to show,” he nodded along.

“Yeah. So anyway, Zack dies in the prequel.”

“Damn. This Cloud guy just can’t catch a break.”

Before I was able to continue the conversation further, I received a beep on my pager.

“...And neither can I. I gotta split.”

That was how our typical conversations went. I did most of the talking while he stared and smiled the whole way through. Most of the time, I didn’t mind that, but it also meant that I didn’t know much about him. He hardly seemed like the mysterious type, and I should’ve known the mysterious type due to the people I’ve let in my apartment in the past.

So the next chance we got I decided I’d hold nothing back. We both sat together, once again with our lunches in front of us, and I popped the question:

“Do you have any siblings?” I was casual as I asked him, plain as day with an egg and lettuce sandwich in my hands. He tilted his head and rested it on his palm, looking even more radiant than usual.

“Why yes. I have four sisters. Two of them are engaged. One of them’s married. The fourth one is still looking for love.”

“Oh wow,” I replied. “You know, you could tell her that she doesn’t have to find love. It’s not the be-all and end-all, after all.”

“I think she already knows that. Still, she wouldn’t mind the experience. What about you, Trent?” He spoke my name with such a delicacy that it made my heart tackle the walls of my chest.

“Uh, yeah,” I stammered. “I’ve got a sister. I don’t even know why you mentioned relationships since I just asked about siblings, but she’s in one. I mean, she’s married, so I guess I’ve also got a sister-in-law. If that counts as another sibling, then I’ve got two sisters, maybe?”

He coughed up a chuckle against his fist.

“Love is a beautiful thing, isn’t it?”

I shrugged.

“Yeah, I guess it can be.”

For some reason that simple exchange reminded me of an early memory when Juniper and I were kids and we shared a room, bunk beds, in fact.

She hung upside down from the edge of the top bunk of the bed. I always did tell her to be careful, but she never was good at listening to me.

“Hey bro, bro, bruh, bruv,” she pestered me.

“What is it?” I looked up from the book I was reading.

She held down a magazine with pictures of women in hiking gear.

“Look! Aren’t those girls cute? Aren’t they your type?” She pressed it up to my face. Or as well up to my face as she could. Her aim wasn’t the best when she hung upside down. Nevertheless, I took a glance. Of course, as I was more interested in the book I was reading, I didn’t really pay attention.

“Uh-huh. Sure.”

Not satisfied, she grew in intensity.

“Come on! You didn’t look!”

“Yeah I did!” I shot back. “I’m just more interested in this book right now! You have no idea how cool the Shannara novels are!” Oh, but I wasn’t done. “Also, I’m pretty sure those are your type, not mine!”

She stuck her tongue out.

“What even is your type?” She teased.

I shrugged. Really, I didn’t know then, and even into my 30s, as a doctor, I had no idea if I even had a type. For anyone. After a pause, she then asked.

“Do you think you’d ever have a crush on anyone?”

I gave it some thought. Then, as if it was a no brainer, it clicked.

“If someone was actually interested in me, sure! But c’mon, I’m a nerd. You know how hard it is for people like me.”

She scowled at that.

“That’s just a myth. That shouldn’t stop you.”

She was right. Both back then, and in the present, if she were to tell me that again. But over the years, I grew to have a different excuse.

“Would you ever be open to the idea of love?” Fern’s question brought me out of the memory, back to the moment that I shared with him.

I shrugged.

“Sure, I wouldn’t mind. If the opportunity were to occur. But then, I’m always too busy to think about things like that, so it’s never really crossed my mind. I’m sure you can relate, seeing as you’re probably about as busy as I am.”

“Indeed,” he agreed. “But it has its advantages.”

“Oh? Like what?”

“Like how we can spend the same amount of time together.”

Oh yeah. That was a really good point.

“Heh. It is nice to have someone to chat with,” I agreed.

It was a surprise how little time had passed, but I was glad for it. Considering how unpredictable this job could be, I had to be thankful for any precious minutes I got.

“Let’s not worry about that. If we run out of time, we can pick it up another day. So what do you say?”

“So tell me, how did your sister meet her lover?” His curiosity took me by surprise. Not something I thought would be worth asking, but who was I to say what someone did and didn’t find interesting?

All right. So I told him. It seemed he just had that kind of effect on me.

Maybe it was a little cliché, I don’t know, because I don’t know what constitutes as cliché, but it was a rainy evening. I had just gotten off work, I had my umbrella, but it seemed to do me little good as there was a mighty gust of wind and the rain just slid down the umbrella and managed to force itself onto my jacket.

On the way home, I took a shortcut through a side street. I guess it was like an alleyway, but more open. I don’t know, side street sounds appropriate. Curled up underneath the cover of a building’s awning was a homeless woman, a single orange striped blanket over her, damp. Her hair seemed covered in dirt, she shivered, but made no attempt to voice her discomfort. I couldn’t quite make out her face, but maybe it was pity that brought me to pay attention to her in the first place.

Yeah, typical “boy meets girl” story, huh?

At last, she looked up and croaked. Despite facing me, her face seemed to droop low and she looked downtrodden.

“You got money?”

I jumped. Startled. Yeah, not too dignified, but I really just didn’t expect for her to notice me. Once I composed myself, I dug through my jacket pocket and pulled out a twenty dollar bill.

“Here, it’s not much, but it’s what I got on me.”

“Thanks,” she replied and took it. No more than that. Of course, if that was the extent of the exchange, there wouldn’t really be anything to tell, now would there?

“Hey, I know it’s late, but there’s a cafe close by we can visit if you want a coffee or something. They’re not open forever, but it’ll keep you dry for a little while,” I offered.

She looked up again, scowled.

“I don’t trust strangers,” she stated.

“Oh, yeah, definitely. I’m a stranger, you’re a stranger. I get that,” I chuckled. “I just figured I’d offer, but you can decline. If you’re worried about me being someone dangerous, you can punch me. I’m not really interested in being cruel or violent or anything like that.”

She squinted. I would later find out that was less because of how ridiculous she may have thought me and more because she had poor eyesight.

“Are you that desperate that you would ask a homeless person out on a date?” Her biting remark might have gotten under the skin of just about anyone else, but I’ve probably heard much worse from some of my patients. Instead, I laughed.

“You don’t have to think of it as a date. I don’t. I’m not really the dating type, anyway. It’s just a spur of the moment thing.”

She shifted eyes, turned her head from left to right, then looked back up on me.

“I can’t believe I’m going to agree to this…but sure,” she heaved out the words.

“Cool,” I stuck my thumb out, then continued, “it’s just a couple of blocks away. I really like the place, since I sometimes don’t get off work until real late and it’s open past midnight.”

“I don’t care...when it’s open...but I could use something warm...to drink,” she sounded lightheaded, in a daze.

Once we made our way through the door of the dim lit cafe with neon lighting, she wiped her shoes on the mat.

Oh. What good manners, I thought. As someone who often forgot to wipe their shoes when entering places, it was a nice reminder to see someone else do so. At least I remembered to put my umbrella down, but that kinda went without saying.

As soon as I approached the counter, I turned to her, still drenched.

“Don’t worry about the cost. Order whatever you like,” I assured her. After I said those words, she looked up, squinted, then closed her eyes.

“I would like a lavender mocha latte, but no dairy. Almond milk if you have it. Coconut would be even better. Give four extra shots of espresso, and if you have dark chocolate syrup, use that.”

Damn. It was like she had the whole thing recited and ready to go. All right.

“I’ll just take a black coffee,” I shrugged. I didn’t need all the sugar or any of that extra stuff.

“Oh. I should have went with that too,” she looked down, possibly embarrassed at her order.

I laughed.

“Don’t worry, I said you could order whatever. My treat.”

She made her way to the table nearest to the window, and took the seat closest to the window as well. As soon as she sat down, she lowered her head onto the table and her arms outstretched to cover her head. Behind her, raindrops slid down the window. It wasn’t much an interesting sight, but I wasn’t a very observant person, so I felt I ought to have taken note of something.

“Just so you know, you should probably forget about me after this,” she uttered and despite her words being muffled, I could still make her words out clear as a river.

“If you want,” I shrugged.

“I’m serious. You shouldn’t associate with me. There’s people after me. I’d rather not get anyone involved.”

I pondered if there was any validity to that. Maybe she ran from an ex, or there was some trafficking ring. That last bit was a little dark. As a middle ground, I thought that maybe she had run off from home as a kid (surprisingly, that part was sort of true, in a sense).

“You probably think I’m crazy. Paranoid, even. I get it. Some homeless woman tells you there’s people after her. You don’t have to believe me. Just so you know, I’m homeless by choice. It’s easier this way. You don’t have to believe that, either.”

“Well, if you’re on the run, maybe it’s not by choice?” I suggested.

She looked up, her face still semi-buried in her arms. Still, I could make out eyes through her bangs. Grayish-purple bags under her eyes, but eyes nonetheless.

“Yeah. You’re probably right. It’s been so long, it’s hard to tell anymore. My head won’t cooperate,” she seemed to agree with my assessment, and as if to confirm as much, she lifted her head up and rubbed her forehead with her palm. With one eye visible, she glared at me.

“Just so you know, even if you considered this a date, I wouldn’t be interested. I’m…” she looked around, then stated, “men don’t interest me.”

I chuckled.

“It’s okay. My sister’s a lesbian. You don’t really have to beat around the bush about it.”

Her eyes widened, then squinted again.

“I don’t know why you would tell me that. I’m not interested. My main focus is my survival, it’s just…” She began to glance to her side and down at the floor. “I’ve been running and hiding so long, I’m growing tired. Sooner or later, I might just give up. It’s a terrible thought, but I don’t think I can go on.”

My concern began to grow, even if I didn’t know the scope of her problem.

“I don’t really know what it is you’re dealing with, but you don’t have to deal with it alone.”

“No. I refuse to endanger anyone else,” she seemed adamant about that.

Maybe she was justified, but in a selfish way, that also made me want to help more.

“You can refuse if you want, but the weather forecast says it’s going to be raining over the next few days. I’ve got a spare room in my apartment you can stay in. If nothing else, it’ll keep you dry.”

“I wouldn’t want to impose,” she looked away once more.

“You wouldn’t be. I’m the one that offered,” I shrugged, a favorite gesture of mine.

“Well...maybe my head is just messed up enough right now, but...fine. As long as I reserve the right to leave at any time.”

“Of course,” I assured her, and I even lifted a feeble smile. Once our coffee was brought over, mine a regular paper coffee cup, hers a ceramic cup filled to the top, we drank in silence. Between intervals of me sipping the bitter bean, I peeked over and noticed how she held onto her cup with a sort of elegance; one hand on the handle, the other grasping the base of the cup, and slow sips taken, not a single slurp to be heard. It was probably a little weird of me to pick up on something like that, I admit.

“I’m Trent, by the way,” I told her out of courtesy. Depending on how long she’d stay, I felt it wise to tell her my name.

“Et...err...Vesuvius. You can call me Vesuvius. Or Ves. I don’t care which,” her eyes shifted and she stammered out the words.

After we finished our coffee, we headed out, umbrella up and ready to go. There wasn’t a long walk ahead of us, and she was silent the whole way through. Not that I tried to make small talk anyway, since the rain was kind of gloomy weather for conversation. She walked with a slump, something I should have warned her to be cautious about, lest she get a hunchback. Maybe she did so because she felt she was too tall to fit under the umbrella, or maybe she had been under such duress for so long that standing up straight no longer registered to her.

Before long, we made our way inside and I showed her to where the spare room was. She didn’t speak a word, not so much as a nod, just went inside. Before I closed the door, I told her, “if you need anything, just let me know. I’ll be down the hall and to your left.”

Still, no acknowledgment. That was fine. Just as long as she heard me. For whatever reason, it didn’t register until after I closed the door that I didn’t have anything like an air mattress or a futon for her to sleep on. That room was bare, empty. Not a single item to be found.

Despite that, I was too tired to do anything rational like look for some spare blankets or pillows, and decided it was high time for me to get some rest. At the very least, I turned the heater on and let it run. It wasn’t something I liked to do, and I didn’t think Juniper would be all that comfortable with it on, but screw it, I was the one who paid the bills.

“Well, time for me to get some shut eye,” I announced, thinking there was no one around who could hear me. However, I soon noticed from the corner of my eye a foam basketball being tossed up into the air.

“Who’s the babe?” Juniper, asked in a rather dull voice. I soon turned and saw her laying on the couch, flat on her back.

“Don’t be disrespectful,” I scolded. “I found her on the street. She’s just going to stay over for a few nights.”

“So now you’re picking up homeless chicks?”

Really, maybe she was just moody ‘cause she was tired, or maybe she just felt like giving me a hard time that night in particular.

“I just felt like doing a good deed, there’s nothing behind it,” I corrected her. Again.

“That’s rather nice of you. Just make sure not to overexert yourself. Your health is important too,” she reminded.

“Thanks.”

I thought I could just go to bed, but then a smile which signified mischief spread across her face.

“So, tell me about the babe,” she wouldn’t drop it so soon.

“Oh, come on,” I groaned.

“C’mon, the babe.”

“No,” I folded my arms on my hips. If she could nudge me from where she was at, she would have.

“You remind me of the babe,” her cheery voice returned, coupled with a sing-song tone.

“What babe?” I finally gave in.

“The babe with the power.”

“What power?”

“Power of voodoo!”

“Who do?”

“You do!”

“Do what?”

“Remind me of the babe! Ha ha ha!” she kicked around the couch and laughed. There were certain nights where I could just tell when she watched Labyrinth that day.

“Okay, okay, don’t stay up too late,” I reminded her. “You know where your room is.”

“Yeah, yeah. ‘Night.”

Ah, Labyrinth. Classic. David Bowie and his tights. Things didn’t get much better than that.

Somehow I managed to tell him all of that with time to spare.

“You have a big heart, Trent,” he told me, which kinda made me want to sulk.

“Yeah...I do try to have a good diet, though,” I pouted.

“No, no, I mean metaphorically,” he patted the air as he spoke, a sure sign of sincerity.

“You mean…?” I stared into his earthen rosemary colored eyes.

“Yes. You are very kind.”

“Oh, phew. For a second there I was worried you meant my weight.”

“No, no. Dear. You are adorable. When I first saw you that fateful day, I said to myself, ‘this is an adorable teddy bear’. I would never have anything unkind to say to a teddy bear.”

“Well, thank you. Does that mean I’m a cuddly looking teddy bear?” I let slip my curiosity.

“I’d have to find that one out for myself. Hey, your story about your sister’s wife got me thinking. How would you like to go out for coffee after work?”

Gee, the possibility never even occurred to me, but it was so simple. Of course.

“Yeah, I don’t see why not. I’m pretty sure the place is still open.”

“And,” he leaned in a little closer. “May I consider it a date?”

I laughed a little at that.

“If you’d like to.”

“And,” a little closer still. “Would you consider it one?”

That time, my heart went “boing boing” against my chest. I didn’t know the answer to that one. It was too much being put on the spot, I was used to the attention being on other people.

“Um...not no, but maybe yes...I’m not sure…” Came my disgraceful blabbering until I managed to catch myself and re-compose. “Er...I’m not used to thinking about things for myself...but...sure. You’re a pretty cool guy. Let’s consider it a coffee date.”

So we did. Just a few nights later, after work we walked into the parking lot. He had a motorcycle, with enough of a seat for me to fit in the back. It wasn’t awkward in the slightest and in fact, it played out much the same as many of our conversations at lunch before. It all felt natural between us, like trees. He ordered an oregano tea latte and I had my usual black coffee.

As if by miracle, the sun had yet to set and there wasn’t the slightest hint of rain. We sat across from each other and immersed ourselves in the ambiance of the hums and smooth glitchtunes playing on the coffee shop’s speakers.

“So, if I were to come over to your place tonight, would I see your sister and her wife?” He posed the hypothetical question.

“Nah, they both moved out almost a year ago. They’ve got their own apartment somewhere else in the city, though they’re also saving up to move elsewhere again.”

“So soon?” He tilted his head.

“Well, it’s a dream of Ves’ to live in a field of flowers, open nature, all that stuff. Psychedelic drugs, flowers in hair, tie-dye, I could go on. Juniper’s already found a place a couple of states out, and she found an old beat up pick up truck in a ditch and decided to repair it just for fun. So now all they gotta do is assemble the wood, get some electric lining, plumbing, all that stuff. Which...I don’t have a lot of faith in my sister, she’s no architect or electrician, but she’s the type who gets insistent about doing everything herself, so it’s not like I could talk her out of it.”

“That’s great, though! They’re pursuing their passion. Isn’t that beautiful?”

I shrugged.

“I dunno if ‘beautiful’ is the word I’d use, but yeah. I suppose I’m happy for them.”

“What about you? Do you have any goals?” His eyes fluttered, almost like he wanted to lull me to sleep.

“Sorta, but it’s kinda dumb? I just don’t like the whole ‘charged ten thousand dollars as soon as you walk in and good luck getting your overpriced insurance that you can barely afford, if afford at all, to cover anything’ so I was thinking how it would be cool if I could run my own clinic. I don’t know, maybe it could be funded through donations, but in no way would people have to pay. Like, I doubt I’d be able to do the big stuff like surgeries or transplants, but it’s still something, right? Thing is, that’s kinda impossible, don’cha think?”

Rather than some kind of agreement, he reacted in a rather ferocious manner: he stood up, leaned over, and slammed his hands on the table.

“Trent,” while his voice grew in intensity, it certainly didn’t sound angry. More...motivating. “You must never be afraid of your passion.”

“Uh...okay…” I scratched my cheek. “But what about you? What are you passionate about?”

He sat back down.

“You. Of course,” he answered, so simple, so straightforward in his delivery.

“So, like, does that mean you’d want to play D&D with me sometime?”

He laughed.

“I’d love to.”

“Really? Are you sure? What if you don’t like it? I mean, I don’t even know what your hobbies are.”

“If I end up not liking it, then at least I’ll have found that out for myself. But all of your hobbies, everything that interest you, I want to immerse myself in. Because all of you...is my hobby.”

“Bro…” I leaned forward. “That’s kind of...uh...cool!”

“Oh, and I also like to ride around on my motorcycle. I like watching the sunsets, going hiking, mountain climbing, kayaking, and making ceramic cups.”

Hiking, mountain climbing, kayaking...he sure looked fit. Not to mention, those things sounded like fun, even if possibly dangerous.

“Do you think I could do those things with you?” I asked, hesitant, but I figured if he was wanting to do the things I liked, I may as well ask him in return.

“Of course. You can do whatever you want with me.”

“Then in that case, can I kiss you?” I joked, though it seemed to come out of nowhere. However much I meant it, it was out in the open now.

“Of course. Would you like to do it here, or at your apartment?”

“Err...at my apartment?”

To be honest, I’ve never kissed anyone before. Or been kissed by anyone before. That thought never even crossed my mind and I pretty much figured I’d be fine not having such a thought and continuing on with my life, but dominoes were falling or something like that.

“Let’s go, then,” he stood up and motioned for me to head toward the door. In a hurry, I chugged down my coffee.

I should probably brush my teeth first. Coffee breath probably isn’t a good taste. Then again, would he want to brush his teeth. Should we just use the same toothbrush? Or maybe he packed one with him.

When we shoved our way through the door of my apartment, those questions were erased from my mind.

“I’ve actually never kissed anyone before...I know, in my thirties and…” he put his finger on my lips and made a “shh” sound.

“Relax. I’ll take the lead,” he lowered his hand, then leaned down and spread his lips against mine. As he released, I wished that he hadn’t. But then the thought of my breath returned to the front of my mind.

“Sorry, uh, hope my breath doesn’t bother you.”

“Does it bother you?” He asked.

“Well…it’s probably good to take care of your teeth. I’m not a dentist, but I do think good health is important in all aspects of one’s health and --”

He pulled out a box of mint chews.

“Here,” he opened the box. I took a couple and popped them into my mouth. On instinct, I bit down on them and chewed, despite knowing that I wouldn’t be prepared for the icy hellfire that was the minty taste. After a couple of seconds of huffing, I looked back at him.

“Okay, I’m good now.”

“There is one more interest I have now,” he decided to pick back up from our conversation at the coffee shop for some final choice words.

“Yeah? What would that be?”

“Supporting you and your dreams.”

Then we kissed again.

So flashforward a year or so and through some sort of miracle, such a dream was realized: we converted the apartment into a clinic and moved upstairs to the apartment directly above. Both of us quit our jobs at the hospital so we could focus on the clinic. Really, I couldn’t have done it without him. Or, maybe I could have, but I’d like to think he gave me that sort of push, y’know? That little “oomf.”

There were many improvements that could have been made, and might be made as time went on, but I liked seeing the genuine attempt to help, and the look on people’s faces when they knew they wouldn’t have to worry about cost...worth it. What’s more, people donated freely, and often. We met several people around the community and even convinced some to play D&D with us. I think the biggest surprise was how much of a hit the game was with the elderly.

Oh, and also, Fern and I became boyfriends. Not really sure how that happened, but it did and I’m cool with it.

On one particular slow day, an interesting thing happened: see, it had been a while since any strange people walked through my door. After a streak of Ves, Blanc, and that weird stalker lady my sister hugged, I figured I’d see the last of any weirdness. In fact, I never even thought to tell Fern about any of the weird visitors (besides Ves, of course). But then as I was doing a solo hunt against deviljo in Monster Hunter on my PC in my office, Fern ran into my office.

“Hey Trent, dear, there’s someone outside the front door saying she’s your cousin,” he informed me. I looked up, a little perplexed.

“I have relatives?” I asked, even though it might have seemed like a pretty dumb thing to say.

Never mind the dumbness, I stopped what I was doing and rushed toward the door only to find a short lady with blonde hair who looked to be in her 20s.

“Hello, can I help you?” I asked her.

“It’s me, your cousin. Demetria?” She folded her arms and scowled.

It took a few seconds to click, and then I remembered.

“Ohhh. You were at my sister’s wedding. I think. Probably.”

“Yeah, I probably most definitely was,” she turned her head and spat on the ground.

Fern stood beside me and gave me a kiss on the cheek.

“Who might this be?” He asked.

“Fern,” I gestured to Demetria. “This is apparently my cousin, Demetria. Demetria, this is Fern, my receptionist-slash-boyfriend.”

“You make me sick,” Demetria growled in response.

“What?” I blinked, and I was quite surprised to hear such a thing. “Are you homophobic?”

“No, I’m not homophobic, I just can’t believe you’re dating someone named after a tree! You were supposed to be the chosen one! You could have broken the cycle!”

That was an odd thing to focus on, but good to know it wasn’t too serious.

“It’s short for Fernando, actually, and technically, Ferns aren’t trees,” Fern explained to her.

“All right, buster,” she pointed up. “But you’re on thin-fucking-ice!”

Then she turned to me.

“Also, grats on being gay, I guess. That’s kinda cool,” she eased up her abrasive tone.

“Well, I might be bi. I don’t know. I haven’t been interested in women before, but that doesn’t mean I wouldn’t be interested in any women. I think the real question we need to ask is, is it gay to be in a relationship with another man?” I suggested. Demetria just looked at Fern, who then looked at me.

“Yeah,” they both said at the same time.

“Well, in any case, what can I do for you, Demetria?” I shifted focus.

“Right. I need you to tell me where Juniper lives.”

“What for?”

“So I can go live with them. Why else?”

That was an odd thing to want to do, and I didn’t even think Juniper and Ves would agree to such a...oh, who was I kidding? Juniper was that kind of person.

“Right. Uh...I guess there’s no harm. I’ll write down their address for you. You got a way to get there?”

She shook her head.

“I make it up as I go. I got here just fine, didn’t I?”

Yeah, that was a good point.

I pulled out my notepad from my shirt pocket as well as a pen and scribbled down the address. After I handed it to her, she squinted and scowled.

“Shit. How am I supposed to read this chicken scratch?”

Right. Doctor.

“Here, I’ll just spell it out for you, so you can just type it in the notepad app on your phone or whatever you have.”

“Oh, great. More work for me to do,” she grimaced, but pulled out her phone and pressed the power button.

“Let’s see...a few missed calls from my mom. Typical. Also, a text from Ray. ‘If you ever consider coming back here, don’t. I don’t want to see you again.’ Gee, wasn’t planning on going back there, but good to see I’m not wanted. Typical...oh, here we go. Notepad.”

I didn’t really know what that bit was about, but I wasn’t about to pry. Wasn’t my business. As soon as I told her the address, she turned her phone back off and put it back in her pocket.

How are you going to know where to find the place if you don’t even look at the address?

Oh well. Juniper and Ves’ problem now.

“See ya,” she waved, then ran off. Fern and I waved too, then Fern turned to me.

“Well, she was interesting,” he remarked.

I shrugged.

“Yeah. It tends to go that way. I never really told you, but besides Ves, there’s been some strange people who showed up here a couple of times. First there was Blanc, this amnesiac who was missing an arm. Juniper decided to make a prosthetic limb for them after learning about Fullmetal Alchemist and we kinda let them live here until they just disappeared one day. Then there was this one stalker Juniper had who wanted her and I to leave town but didn’t really explain why and then Juniper hugged her and she freaked out. Not a clue what that was about, but we never saw her again, so I guess we never needed to leave town.”

“Wow, your sister had a stalker?”

I shrugged.

“Yeah, it was horrible, I guess. She seemed rather nonchalant about it, but I could tell it affected her in some ways. She was paranoid for a bit until she met this stalker in person, and then said stalker turned out to be harmless.”

“Still, I would’ve been scared too.”

“Oh yeah, and by the way, Ves is a time traveler. Yeah, you probably think I’m nuts now, but she was originally from the ‘60s and my sister and I found this time travel device that looked like a Nintendo 64 when we moved in. It apparently belonged to Ves’ father. So that time at the coffee shop when she was homeless? Yeah, apparently I met her before that actually and neither of us realized that. Of course, she was a teenager back then and only showed up to take the time travel device back but anyway…”

I realized I started rambling and the more I went on, the more ridiculous things probably seemed.

“...Anyway, you don’t have to believe me, but that was all to say that everyone else who’s ever been in this apartment has been more interesting than me. Including you. Compared to them, I’m kinda just...there.”

He shook his head and placed a firm grasp on my shoulders. He looked me in the eyes.

“No, you are very interesting. How could you not be when you’ve met all of these interesting people? Take it from me: I wouldn’t be interested in you if I didn’t find you interesting.”

“Gee,” I looked away, embarrassed. “Thanks. But also, there’s one more thing: my family has this weird tradition of naming people after trees. Yeah, I’m Trent, but I was named after Treant, this tree monster in D&D. My mom wanted to name me Ent, but apparently couldn’t because the Tolkien estate has the rights to that name.”

“See? Another interesting thing about you!”

“Ha. I’m glad I met you. My mom wasn’t exactly a nice lady, but it was cool that she was into D&D. That’s probably where I got it from. Maybe it’s genetic. Still, neither mine nor my sister’s personalities are like her, although Juniper’s probably closer, though way nicer. It’s hard to explain, but you’d just have to trust me.”

“Every time you tell me something new about yourself, I’m fascinated more and more,” he smiled wide.

We kissed once more before getting back to work. Our day hadn’t yet come to an end.

#writing #remoras full #romance #gay #trent #doctor #clinic #stories #lgbt #dnd

3 notes · View notes

thepenpalhub · 4 years ago

Text

Howdy, Y'all! So this is bound to be a super long post, one because I am super excited to find some more penpals, and two because I can’t ever do anything half way! So to sum up some of it I’m a seventeen year old ADHD Legal Studies college senior in Arkansas with a background in Political Science (USA) addicted to coffee looking for some penpals!

I’m currently sitting under the sunrise daydreaming up some new plots for a couple of stories I'm probably going to end up starting. In the process, I obviously started wondering deeper into the cosmos and questioning everything about life, for example, with the way 2020 is going, what's the probability of the zombie apocalypse breaking out? This pondering has lead me here, searching for some friends that hold the intellectual capability to have a serious not serious conversation, because in my opinion penpals and snail mailers are some of the greatest friends yet!

My name is Allison, though I’ve got a whole slew of nicknames that you could pick from if Allison is too much of a hassle ;D! Allie, Elle, and Allis being a few of them!

I’m your normal run-of-the-mill College student, besides the fact that I’m a college senior at seventeen and I graduated high school at thirteen! I’m studying Law, though I have a degree in political science as well! For reference, I will be turning eighteen within a month.

My goals in life include bringing light to the corruption and corrupted in politics and government, helping as many people as possible to better their lives and improve their state of living, and being as much happiness and joy to the world as I reasonably can! My career goals include achieving all the above through politics, public speaking, corporate ventures, and government!

So yeah, I’m a pretty ambitious gal, to the point that some people have claimed I’m overbearing and too interested in myself! While I might come across as overbearing or self-interested, I’m one of the most selfless people I know, and on top of that, I try to be as self-aware as possible so that I can continue to emotionally, intellectually, mentally, and physically improve myself! One of my motos in life is “to know where you're going you must first know where you’ve been”! Plus... I’ve just got a really really big personality!!

Let’s see, I am a Sagittarius, ENFP-t, and enneagram of 8! I am also a Slytherin! In my professional life, I like to compare myself to a much nicer version of Katerina Petrova… or Clarke Griffin (if you ignore the manipulative and kinda bitchy part of both… sometimes)! Though in my private life I tend to take on more of a child-like nature, in the sense of being cheerful, energetic, always curious, and kinda oblivious in certain situations! I do tend to be a bit bratty, blunt, and bossy though!

Moral of the story, you can probably expect some rambling and super cute designs slash miscellaneous things in your letter if we go the snail mail route!

I kinda have some pretty diverse and interesting taste when it comes to things I enjoy! I like to think I have the interests of an elderly person and personality of a child, but you can be the judge of that!

* I love politics, linguistics, diplomacy, history, stock markets, real estate, law, and philosophy!

* Hiking and swimming are probably two of my favorite outdoorsy activities!

* I adore the gun range, it is probably one of my favorite places to go (after malls and libraries)! Very American of me.... I know 😀

* Beekeeping is something I’ve been doing since I was a child, I currently have over four-thousand hives!

* Reading, writing, and painting are also some of my favorite things to do!

I’m a painter, who absolutely loves bright colors (I.e pink and yellow)! I don’t particularly have a favorite music genre, from rock to country and pop to opera/classical I’ll listen to anything (it all depends on mood)!

I like to consider myself the reigning queen of over-energetic happy-go-lucky bubbly people! *Bow down peasants!* Some people have claimed I’ve got major crackhead energy, without the crack! I just blame it on my caffeine addiction paired with really really bad ADHD!

I’m a bit of a girly girl, with a love for the preppy look, and a love for hair bows and leather jackets! I love dancing in the rain, going to parks, blowing bubbles, watching Disney, playing make-believe or whatever, and acting like I’m high on sugar 9/10! I mentioned I had a childish personality, though as I said, some people find it overwhelming!

I love reading and writing (both originals and fanfics... yeah I’m a groupie when it comes to tv/movie/book fanfics)! Currently, I’ve been really invested in fiction works, I’m nearly finished with the CL Stone Academy Ghostbird series (It's a reverse harem for those that don't know, I highly suggest it), which I started last week! Though I obviously have been keeping up with my lovely textbook readings and such (seeing as this week is Midterms and all)!

Oh!! I almost forgot I know three languages (not including English)! Spanish, French, and Russian! Though I’ve never had anyone to use the languages with, and I’m still in the process of learning Russian!

Side note, I'm a full-time college student that has multiple entrepreneurial businesses that I run, so I'm fairly busy! But I'm also super chatty and talkative, so there's that!

As for what I’m looking for! I’d love a best friend, someone that can put up with my amazingly hectic self, while also being able to hole and intelligent conversation.

I’m cool with an email pen-pal, a messaging pen-pal, or a snail mail pen-pal! Admittedly I’m currently in a crafty mood, specifically because the holidays, so snail mailing is probably at the top of my list at the moment! I just moved to a new location, which has been a blast, mountain people are so super sweet (coming from someone who grew up in the city) and I’ve officially managed to get my address and everything squared away! So that should be spectacular!

Age and gender identification don’t really matter to me, though I do connect with people older than myself a tad bit easier because my interests normally don’t line up with my peers! Similarly, people who have life goals, ambitions, and/or self-aware people are a serious weakness of mine, what can I say, I'm a sapiosexual, both in regards to romantic relationships and friendships, the brain is the most beautiful part of the human. Similarly in that fashion, I am also demisexual and pansexual.

I'm looking for something long-term, whenever I start something I pour 100% into it, and I expect 100% back! My time is a delicate thing, and even though I'm ridiculously busy I love sharing it with others! I would also be interested in exchanging photos early on with people that pique my interest, both for verification purposes, and because I prefer to put a face to a name. Similarly, your location does not particularly matter, domestic or international pen pals are welcome! I would love to be able to put some of my languages to use, however, but all cultures are welcome!

Anyways! I’d love to get to know you, so please shoot me a message and we’ll see where it stands and where we land! I’ll try to respond to all messages, but I can’t stand small talk, so if you just send a “hey” with no context or a few other words like “hyd” I probably won’t respond (and imma blame it on my Adhd)! I mean.... I did mention I love long messages!!

Can’t wait to hear from y’all!

And I hope everyone has a spectacular day and night!!

My email is [email protected] for anyone who wants to reach out there! Or you could just message me on Tumblr!!

8 notes · View notes

onedoesnotsimplywriteafanfic · 4 years ago

Text

Reunited at last (2/6)

Part 1

The days leading to our departure I needed to find someone who could cover me on work and teach the history classes. Luckily one of my co-workers wanted to work day shifts in staid of night. Today would be the last history class I would teach before leaving that night. ‘’So you are going on another trip again?!’’ no one could contain their excitement. ‘’I will be leaving tonight, and I don’t know for how long I will be gone.’’ I said honestly. ‘’But you will come back right?’’ one girl asked afraid of my answer. ‘’Yes, I will be back and yes, I will be telling all about it.’’ she laughed in relief.

My bags were already packed and ready to go. Rafe was waiting for me in the door opening of the library hall. Looking at me and admiring my passion and love for these children. No one noticed him standing there for a huge amount of time until one girl saw him and started whispering to her friends. ‘’Is there anything you want to share with the others, Dahlia?’’ I said while raising an eyebrow.

All the girls started giggling and blushing slightly. Rafe enjoyed the attention and couldn’t help but let out a chuckle. The sound of his chuckle startled me and I turned his way. ‘’Rafe, what are you doing here?’’ I asked him confused because I remembered meeting him at the airport. ‘’I wanted to pick you up, before heading toward the airport.’’ he shrugged nonchalantly.

All eyes were now fixed on us. ‘’I will be done in fifteen minutes, can you wait up front?’’ Everyone booed and awed. ‘’I don’t think they want me too.’’ he said grinning, showing his picture perfect smile. ‘’Please let him stay.’’ I heard someone ask. ‘’Fine, but we keep our heads to the subject.’’ I warned them. Once Rafe was seated somewhere at the table I continued the less.

In staid that I told them a storie, Rafe took the stage and told one of his. It was a nice finish before I left. For the first time I could watch and see how these children admired history and stories, taking in their faces one by one. There was no doubt about it, I was going to miss them like they were my own.

The next few days went by in a haze, we flew to Italy. The auction was held three days after we had arrived. That gave us plenty of time to find a dress for me and a suit for Rafe, explore the city and over all get to know each other again.

We stayed in a luxurious hotel in the hart of the city. It was more a penthouse then a suite. It has two rooms with each of their own bathroom, a functional kitchen and the most amazing few I had ever seen. Looking out over the city, with each night the sunset far in the distance.

As the sun was setting, a light warm breeze tickled my skin as I sat on the balcony. Admiring the view and letting my thoughts wander of into the distance. I didn’t notice Rafe walking out. ‘’Penny for your thoughts?’’ He took a seat next to me in one of the chairs. ‘’Just admiring the view.’’ I send him a quick smile before turning my gaze back to the horizon. ‘’It sure is beautiful.’’ He said, looking in the same direction.

For a couple of minutes we sat in silence. ‘’Tomorrow is the big day. The auction.’’ You could hear the excitement in his voice. ‘’I truly don't know what to expect.’’ I admitted, I’ve never been to an auction before, normally I would just take the artifacts, depending on the location and legal reasons. You could say I was a thief, in some ways.

For a second Rafe searched for an answer. ‘’Well it’s only a gathering of a bunch of rich assholes.’’ He said with a chuckle. ‘’In or excluding yourself?’’ I asked with a raised eyebrow. ‘’Depending on my mood.’’ He said with a wink. I rolled my eyes and laughed.

Not much later my phone rang, I looked at the caller ID and saw that it was my dad. ‘’I need to take this.’’ I said and walked inside. ‘’Hey dad.’’ I said after answering. ‘’Hey, I went by your work and you were not there, the said you left.’’ I completely forgot to tell my dad about going on this trip. ‘’Yeah, I am on a vacation, felt a little stressed out so yeah.’’ I made up a lie, something in me tolled me not to tell my dad the truth about Rafe.

After he left, without saying a word, my dad was beyond pissed at Rafe. Sam and Nate were like sons to him. My dad basically raised the two. My dad found Nate after he stole a ring in Colombia, Nate was just a teenager. Immediately my dad had a soft spot for him and took him in and that was the start of our friendship.

I got the impression that my dad was circling around his point as well. ‘’So why where you at my job anyway?’’ I asked bluntly. ‘’Well Nate and I, we have a job and it’s a big one and we will be gone for a while.’’ There was something in his voice I couldn’t place. As if he was hiding something from me. ‘’Oh, where are you going?’’ He hesitated for a second before he answered. ‘’Yemen.’’ It didn’t sound right to me but I didn’t question it either, because I was lying too about my whereabouts.

I could here Nate talk in the background, not sure who he was talking to but he sounded happy. ‘’When ever I have time I will call you.’’ My dad said, a little sad. ‘’I will look forward to your calls dad.’’ our call ended right after, my dad had to go. Rafe walked in and looked at me. ‘’Who was that?’’ With my phone still in my hand I looked back at him. ‘’My dad, he and Nate are going to Yemen.’’ Whether or not it was real, I passed it on to Rafe. He simple nodded and didn’t say much about it.

It was getting late and with each passing second my eyes grew heavier. ‘’I call it a night.’’ I said to Rafe as I passed him in the kitchen. ‘’Oke, goodnight sweetheart.’’ he always called me pet names, something I still have to get used too. ‘’See you in the morning.’’ Looking at him for one last time before heading towards my room.

That night I dreamed meaningless dreams, I couldn’t remember a thing. Waking up it felt like I still needed eight hours of sleep. With tired eyes I walked into the kitchen for a cup coffee. Rafe was already awake and eating at the kitchen island. ‘’Morning sweetheart, how did you,’’ he looked at me and stopped mid sentence. ‘’Did you even sleep at all?’’ he asked concerned. ‘’I did.’’ I said, rubbing my eyes and yawning.

Handing me a cup of freshly brewed coffee, Rafe placed a hand on my forehead. ‘’I am not sick, Rafe, just tired.’’ A smile formed on my face. Rafe wasn’t a sympathetic man, but when ever I was around he seemed a different person. ‘’Drink your coffee, take a bath or a nap. Just get your rest for tonight.’’ He planted a small kiss on my forehead. ‘’I need to meet a client of mine, I will be back later.’’ I nodded and suppressed a yawn, without success.

Dressed nicely as usual, Rafe grabbed his coat and walked out. Walking to the cough I sat down and drank the last of my coffee before I fell asleep. I slept for about an hour and I felt immediately a lot better. Heading to the bathroom and taking a long shower.

Afterwards I got dressed and prepared my outfit for the evening. Still roaming around in my room I heard the main door open. ‘’Rafe?’’ I asked, already knowing it was him. ‘’Yes, it’s me.’’ he called back. Somewhat relieved I felt my body relax. I didn’t know what I was expecting, who els beside Rafe could have walked in.

I walked back to the kitchen and Rafe smiled once he saw me. ‘’You look better.’’ I nodded. ‘’I feel better too.’’ Taking a seat on the chairs I listened to Rafe’s story about his client. He talked with such enthusiasm.

The entire day we spent talking about our jobs, time flew by and before we knew the auction was about to start. We both got ready, Rafe exchanged his black suit for a white one with black accents. I found a dress that matched his suit, a black rein stone dress with an illusion top and a white a-line skirt. My hair has always been a mess so also this time it was held up in a messy bun decorated with some hair clips.

Walking out the room, I was met by Rafe. Once he laid his eyes on me, his jaw dropped. ‘’Is there something wrong with my dress?’’ I panicky asked as I looked at my dress. ‘’No not at all, you look gorgeous.’’ he said with taken breaths. A blush painted my cheeks. ‘’Oh.’’ not knowing how to respond.

I never cared about how I looked. As long as it was easy to move in and comfortable. When you were walking trough forests and running for your life, you didn’t want to be walking in heels. ‘’Are you ready malady.’’ Rafe offered me his arm witch I took. Together we walked to the elevator and left the building to the limousine that was waiting for us outside.

Like a real gentlemen, Rafe opened the door to the limo for me. He even helped me get in. Once I was seated he stepped in and closed the door. Even though there was enough space for him to seat he sat right next to me.

It was a short drive to the Rossi Estate. ‘’We have reach your destination, ma’am and mister.’’ Said the driver trough a small window. ‘’Thank you.’’ I said to the man. Rafe opened the door and stepped out first. He offered his hand once more, which I took, and stepped out after him.

The place was secure with many armed guards. Only an idiot would try and sneak in to steal any of these artifacts. Without trouble we got passed security, the scanned our tickets and we were in. A gasp left my lips as soon as we walked in. I couldn’t stop admiring the architecture.

Slowly the place became more and more crowded, something I never liked. I didn’t do well in crowds. I liked small caterings with a maximum of four people. Never leaving Rafe’s side we mingled in the crowd. Rafe talked with a lot of people that night, he introduced me to each and everyone.

Feeling like I couldn’t breath and most likely to have a panic attack, I excused myself from Rafe’s side to look for the restrooms. Walking carefully trough the sea of people I searched for a waiter. I was still holding a glass of champagne in my hands that I wanted to get rid of and to ask for directions.

In the far back a man caught my eye, black tuxedo, combed back brown messy hair. I just saw him for a brief second but I could have sworn it was Sam. My breath got stuck in my throat and a horse gasp escaped before I dropped my glass. Once it hit the ground it shattered into a million pieces and the sounds of breaking glass filled the room.

For a second it was complete silent, I turned around to head out the other direction but I bashed into someone. ‘’Are you oké?’’ It was Rafe, he probably saw what happened. ‘’No.’’ I said with a shaking voice. ‘’What happened? let’s get you some air.’’ We walked to the nearest exit and it happened to be a balcony. ‘’So what happened?’’ he asked again because I never answered the first time. ‘’I thought I saw Sam, which is ridiculous because he is dead. But I could have sworn it was him Rafe,’’ I turned to look at him in the eyes. ‘’Every fiber in my body says it was him.’’ he looked at me and spoke softly. ‘’You know it can’t be him. I saw him die.’’ He did see him die that fateful day.

Part 3

Masterlist

12 notes · View notes

margridarnauds · 4 years ago

Note

How did you get into Irish mythology? :0

Funny story, that!

I was about....thirteen or so, working on my OCs, as you do when you’re thirteen. And I decided that an immortal kelpie OC of mine was going to have had this epic backstory, and so I wanted to toss in the Fomoire as a group of people that she’d had dealings with, because I remembered them from a Weird N Wild Creatures card that I’d collected when I was, like, 9.

(Note: This is NOTHING like how they’re described in the myths, but MOVING ON.)

To a certain extent, it almost feels inevitable, looking back. Like a lot of my colleagues, I had an interest in the Arthurian myths growing up, especially Morgan Le Fay, and even though not everyone who does Arthurian studies does Celtic Studies (I WISH) and vice versa....there’s overlap. I was REALLY into some nerdy stuff as a kid already - Gargoyles was my SHOW growing up, and, even though it’s much heavily Shakespeare/Arthurian inspired, I think it kind of set me up for it, along with Magic Treehouse. I’d already fallen deeply in love with the world of the Ancient Egyptians, the world of the Romans, the world of the Tudors....ironically, The Pirate Queen was one of the very first musicals I really got into and, at the time, I kind of...glazed over the historical accuracy because all the different clan names confused me. I remember, faintly, reading about Finn Mac Cool and the Children of Lir in various kids’ books, but....that one writing decision was really what ended up pushing me in.

So, I did what everyone does - Went on a Wikipedia deep dive, stumbled on Bres, thought “Oh, this guy is interesting”, got into a BUNCH of questionable-at-best sources, fell on my ass multiple times, read Lady Gregory’s “Gods and Fighting Men”, fell on my ass some more, and then found Mary Jones and the CELT database. From there, I just....read everything I could get my hands on. I would spend HOURS typing in various figures’ names into the search engine at CELT, trying to get all the sources I could get my hands on. (I also realized around this time that, ACTUALLY, for a variety of reasons, Bres was a Mood and I loved him.) Even the legal texts because, after all, if I was going to write about this, I NEEDED to have that legal background. I kind of feel like Cath Maige Tuired was the best possible starting place because, while it was a little scarring to read the uncensored version when I did...it’s also the myth that’s probably MOST like a modern fantasy novel, as well as having a lot of parallels to other mythologies, so if you’re already in love with, say, The Lord of the Rings, The Chronicles of Narnia (and I WAS. So much), then it’s a kind of natural fit.

Then...when I was about 17 or so, I read John Carey’s article “Myth and Mythography in Cath Maige Tuired” on Scribd, and it was like “...wait? People can actually STUDY this? As a job?”

It was like a light bulb came on.

From there, I started to kind of screen more carefully - I looked at the stuff done by university presses, I looked at getting my hands on more primary sources and more analysis. I got Celtic Heroic Age, I got Ireland’s Immortals almost when it was hot off the press, I slowly started to build my library from there. When I was completing my undergrad, I was given the choice of my topic of Senior Capstone Project, and I chose Irish Mythology as a topic, and somehow that got me into applying for a grad program at a formal program and actually moving to Ireland for the sake of my degree.

The reason I’m saying this is because I know that, for many people, they don’t think that they can get into the field. Whether it’s because they don’t think they’re good enough or because they think that because they’re not from a country with a Celtic language or their interest is “cringey” that there’s no way for them to really get into this. And most people in the field, I feel, kind of feed into that by sanitizing the weird parts of our interest in this. “Ah, yes, I fell in love with the myths because I’ve always had an interest in mythology.” And, yeah, that would be true. But it’s not the whole story. (Also, I know that one of the best and brightest of our field has admitted that he got his start by pretending to be Merlin as a kid, in a formal article, so.) Like, we all got here because we fell in love with it, I don’t really feel the need to hide that I fell in love with it as a teenager and it never let go of me, especially because, tbh, it gave me an edge to a certain extent because it means that I know about quite a few texts that no one really cares about.

Also why I try to offer as many suggestions as I can for getting into this: I remember VERY well what it was like to dive into the deep end with no direction. In some ways, I totally fell into the field ass-backwards.

Also, incidentally: I ended up scrapping the OC.

#irish mythology #celtic mythology #celtic studies #long post #school tw #IT'S REAL CELTICIST BACKSTORY HOURS HERE #Anonymous

5 notes · View notes

gumnut-logic · 5 years ago

Text

We’ll Be Home For Christmas 4.3

Title: We’ll be home for Christmas

Day Four – Five Billionaires and No Wives – Part 3 Prologue | 1.1 | 1.2 | 2.1 | 2.2 | 2.3 | 3.1 | 3.2 | 3.3 | 3.4 | 3.5 | 4.1 | 4.2 | 4.3

Author: Gumnut

11 Feb - 23 Apr 2020

Fandom: Thunderbirds Are Go 2015/ Thunderbirds TOS

Rating: Teen

Summary: The boys can’t fly home for Christmas, so they have to find another way.

Word count: 2876

Spoilers & warnings: language and so, so much fluff. Science!Gordon. Artist!Virgil, Minor various ships, mostly background.

Timeline: Christmas Season 3, I have also kinda ignored the main storyline of Season 3. The boys needed a break, so I gave them one. Post season 3B, before Season 3C cos we haven’t seen it yet.

Author’s note: For @scattergraph. This is my 2019 TAG Secret Santa fic :D

I’ve finally got my head back into this fic!

Many thanks to @scribbles97 and @onereyofstarlight for reading through and for all their wonderful support.

Disclaimer: Mine? You’ve got to be kidding. Money? Don’t have any, don’t bother.

-o-o-o-

Gordon stared at the two dots circling A Little Lightning.

Raoul Island sported some excellent scanning equipment and with John enabling access to Thunderbird Five, Gordon could see for miles.

He could even see the far off dot that was their ultimate destination tonight. Tracy Island was such a tiny smudge in the middle of the ocean, so much smaller than Raoul. A moment to acknowledge it and he realised he missed it badly.

Well, they would be home tonight if they got moving soon enough.

But the whales...

“Yeah, they are the same two from yesterday.”

Sam stared at him. “How can you tell?”

Gordon pulled up the feed from the Raoul sea buoy network ring. A hologram appeared of the mother and calf with just enough detail for Gordon to point out the healing net injuries on the little one.

“Ouch.”

“Yeah, she was caught nasty.”

“Bastards.”

“Don’t worry, we got them. Hell, IR has identified the money responsible and we have our legal team in motion.” A polite way to say his beautiful girlfriend was wreaking havoc in a calm but final way only she knew how. He had no doubts there would be very little left of the Polominka guy by the time she finished with him.

And what was left would probably be swept up by Parker and deposited in the nearest trash can.

Gotta love a girl who knew how to get a job done.

“Gords, you with us?”

“Huh?” A blink. Sam was grinning at him as if he knew exactly what Gordon was thinking about. He glared at him.

It didn’t faze the man. “Penny for your thoughts?” That was followed by an outright snigger.

“Shut it, Samwise.” So, he flushed scarlet, big deal. Idiot.

“Hey, is it my fault you go all moony-eyed at the mere thought of your girl?” Sam’s smirk was glare-worthy. “So, do I get a chance to meet this legend of blonde and pink?”

The glare turned into a frown. “How do you guys know so much about me and Penny?” It wasn’t like he had posted a billboard to advertise what was a very new relationship.

Sam shrugged. “Mel heard you were injured, raised a ruckus and Lady Penelope fell out of the sky. Apparently, they get on like a house on fire.”

Gordon stared at him. “Penelope and Mel?”

Another shrug. “Don’t look at me. Liam and I were in Perth.” He poked Gordon in the ribs. “You need to find a way to let us know how you’re doing, man. The news nets were screaming about an injured Tracy brother. It took them hours to work out which one and during that time you had died and been reincarnated six times. You gave us a bloody heart attack. I know you have to be secret and all, but you’re my friend, Gords. Don’t do that again.”

A blink. “I’ll try not to.” But there would be no promises. “I’ll speak to John and make sure Raoul gets notified.” But there would have to be restrictions. Their privacy had to be maintained. Scott would be a challenge. “You have to realise that there is just us, and we prefer to play it close. The media sucks.”

“I bet.” Sam turned back to the holographic display. “They appear to be waiting for you.” A breath. “Extremely odd behaviour.”

“What do you think they want?”

Sam shook his head. “My initial suspicion is either you or Virgil. Scott said Virgil was trying to walk into the water. You yourself had very close contact yesterday. My guess would be they want to make contact again? But really, we know so little about cetacean reality, our interpretation is far too anthropomorphised to be considered.”

“Virgil said the mother spoke to him with emotion. That he received an impression from her singing.”

“A human interpretation. This is where linguistics between species breakdown. Points of reference. The cetacean environment is so different to ours, there is very little shared reference to enable translation.”

“But they are mammals like us, surely they feel emotion?”

Sam held out his hands. “I’m sure they do. Hell, I know they do. But how do you communicate emotion through dissimilar body structure? We primarily communicate through our facial expressions and body language. Across species we don’t have that avenue.”

“We have their song.”

“Yes, we do. But human communication is only five percent vocal.” Sam swallowed. “I have theories and suspicions that whales rely much more on sound than we do due to their environment, but research is difficult.”

“That is why you pounced on Virgil.”

A sharp nod. “This is a bloody breakthrough, Gords. It’s a first.” He prodded the display to bring up audio. “Your brother managed something no-one in the world has ever been able to do. We need him.”

Now that wasn’t a first. Virgil was needed on a variety of fronts daily, not the least of which was by his brothers.

“Take it slow, Sam.”

“I know, I know.”

“We should also speak to John. He’s our communications expert. Speaks a gazillion languages. He might be able to help.”

“How many is a gazillion?”

“That you will have to ask him. I’ve lost count and he keeps learning new ones. Useful on the job.” Gordon twiddled with the focus of the sensor array. The two whales continued their slow circle around A Little Lightning. “How do you think they will react when we return to the boat?”

Sam drew in a thoughtful breath. “Hard to tell. Humpback whales don’t tend to be aggressive. In fact, they are one of the gentlest species. The only cases of aggression I’ve encountered involve threat to an individual or a calf. Having said that, this behaviour is very unusual.”

“You want to come out with us?”

Pale green eyes shot at him. “You just try keeping me away. I’ve already got the inflatable ready.”

Gordon had to smirk. He had already figured he’d have company. Hell, Mel would probably want to come with, as well. Even if only to kiss Scott goodbye.

Hmm.

“Well, I guess we will find out.”

-o-o-o-

It was an hour before they made it out onto the water. Packing and the fact Virgil had fallen asleep, held them up.

Scott was missing for most of that hour and John refused to say where he was. Not that Gordon had to work too hard to guess with Mel missing at the same time. The less time spent thinking about his eldest brother getting ‘together’ with his friend, the better.

Alan surfaced talking a mile a minute about the telescope on the other side of the Island. Apparently, it was ‘brilliant’, ‘amazing’ and ‘John should get one’.

John’s response to that was two words, “Thunderbird Five’.

“Oh, yeah.” But Alan was undeterred. “I might get one myself.”

“Alan, you have access to Five.”

“Yeah, but it is so cool!”

John rolled his eyes and went back to packing.

Virgil woke eventually and stumbled off to the coffee pot. The expression on his face warned that any obstacles would be obliterated.

Even Sam read that one correctly.

Scott appeared in his running clothes shortly after. He was flushed and Gordon noted several suspicious marks on his neck.

That thought led in icky directions and he had to derail that train. But at least Scott’s mood appeared to have improved. He disappeared into the shower and emerged ever the efficient director of operations.

John was seen to roll his eyes again.

During this time, Gordon kept an eye on the whales. They were still circling when the Tracy brothers, Mel and Sam finally left the compound and made their way back to Fishing Rock.

“No.” Virgil’s expression was stubbornness itself. The skyrail loomed above him, the harness set and ready.

Scott’s shoulders straightened, lining up for a bullfight with his bull-headed brother. Gordon readied to intervene, but was pre-empted by John.

The astronaut stepped up to Virgil’s side and simply touched his arm. Brown eyes flickered and were caught by turquoise. The engineer’s lips thinned but John’s frown deepened just a little.

Virgil’s shoulders dropped along with his eyes. “Fine.”

John’s frown hit Scott between the eyes and big brother relaxed just a little.

Virgil was harnessed up without further protest.

Scott squeezed his arm gently before they released him onto the line and Virgil turned to stare at him as he disappeared into the foliage. Their luggage followed.

Mel stepped up to Scott, rather closer than necessary, noted Gordon. “Race you to the bottom?”

Scott’s first grin for the day spread across his face.

Gordon couldn’t help but smile with him.

A heartbeat and Mel and his eldest brother took off down the path.

Sam snorted. “They make quite a pair. I hope he knows what he has got himself into.”

John frowned a little, but it was Gordon who answered that one. “Does she know what she has gotten into?”

“I guess we’ll all find out.” With that Sam headed down the hill. Gordon, John and Alan trotted after him.

The reason for the impromptu foot race revealed itself when Gordon finally made it to the beach. Virgil was already out of the harness with no repeat of the dangling helplessly incident. Scott was laughing, obviously the victor, though the expression on Mel’s face had Gordon suspecting a little planning on her part.

But the best part of it all was the arm Scott had around his brother.

Oh, thank god. It sucked big time when the two eldest were at loggerheads. Nothing worked smoothly when Scott and Virgil fought. A glance at John and the small smile on his face only provided more relief.

Their inflatable was where they left it, secured and protected. Gordon examined it from bow to stern satisfying himself of its safety and he and John lugged it over the rocks and used the crane to lower it into the water. Sam and Mel were only a few steps behind with their own, much larger inflatable. Both boats were secured on the swell, Gordon jumping into his first to make it ready and help load their luggage.

Scott joined him a moment later as he and John helped Virgil to board. A grunt and his engineer brother made the stretch and holding himself, curled up in one corner. Alan climbed on board just as Mel joined Sam in their boat.

All secure, Gordon started the engine and turning the boat around, headed out towards the distant A Little Lightning.

-o-o-o-

He felt it as soon as he set foot in the boat. A deep hum in the soles of his feet.

His belly ached from the trip down and sitting in the boat itself wasn’t the most comfortable, but the inflatable was bare insulation from the water and it carried the sound he couldn’t hear.

Around him, his brothers chattered and settled. Virgil closed his eyes and just felt.

Water on rocks, water on boat, water on water, birds, the breeze….and a weaving hum. He frowned. No, two, there were two voices singing through his feet.

He cherished the accomplishment of identifying the soft interwoven-

Gordon started up the outboard engine and the boat shot out into ocean.

“No!” His hand shot out. “Stop!”

It was a sign of trust and instinct that had Gordon killing the engine at that simple word from his brother. Mel and Sam shot past them.

“Virgil?” Scott was frowning at him. “What is it?”

“No engine.”

“What? You don’t expect us to row all the way out there do you?” Alan’s eyes were wide.

Mel and Sam turned their boat back towards the Tracy’s becalmed inflatable. A word from Gordon over comms and their engine died under Sam’s hand. They coasted alongside the Tracys.

Virgil reached over the side and put his hand into the water.

Song sung up his arm and he closed his eyes again, noting the notes by intensity.

“What’s going on?” Alan’s voice was worried.

“Shh!” Gordon’s voice was quiet but sharp.

Virgil was suddenly surrounded by brothers. Gordon sat down beside him and Scott and John opposite. Alan hovered behind them.

“Thunderfish?”

Virgil didn’t hear his brother’s response, but the question wasn’t asked again.

“Virgil?” Scott’s voice was ever so quiet. “What is it?”

Opening his eyes caught concerned blue. “They’re singing.” He frowned. “Calling.”

“Calling? How do you know?” Gordon’s voice was just as soft.

Virgil turned to his fish brother, catching those curious russet-brown eyes. “I…I don’t know.”

“We need to get out to the boat, Virgil.” Scott, ever the goal orientated.

“No engine.”

Gordon shifted beside him and began unfastening oars. “Then I guess we are rowing out.” One oar free, he nudged his older brothers out of the way. Scott ended up beside Virgil and John beside Alan at the bow of the boat. With the second oar free, Gordon secured them and himself and dipped their tips in the water. “It’s been a while. Should be fun.” Swimmer’s shoulders bunched up and he took the first stroke, a second and then eased himself into a steady rhythm.

Beside them, Sam broke out their oars and followed.

It was slow, but steady going after that.

Virgil let his fingers trail in the water. Except for the water, wind and birds, it was peaceful, the song interweaving amongst it all as if luring him.

His eyes closed again.

A random beep and he opened them to find Raoul further away and John with his tablet out, a holoprojection above it. Four dots, two circling, two approaching.

Gordon smiled at Virgil.

And the song changed.

It was so sudden his heart missed a beat. Scott grabbed his arm. “Virgil?”

“Can you hear it?”

Scott just stared at him, but Gordon stopped rowing and tipped his head to one side. Behind him, John had a puzzled look on his face which was quickly replaced by one of concern. “The whales have stopped circling. They are headed this way.”

As his brothers turned as one to look in the direction of the yacht, Virgil realised they were closer to A Little Lightning than he had thought.

“Here they come!”

Virgil leant over the edge of the boat, ever aware of Scott’s grip on his arm, and caught sight of what was no doubt the mother whale as she passed under their inflatable. Virgil’s jaw dropped. She was massive. Sure, he’d seen her from a distance, holographically in scale up against his brothers, but to see her this close.

“Oh my god.”

“Are we safe?” Scott’s sharp words were aimed at Gordon.

“Humpbacks are gentle creatures. Generally, they only become aggressive in self-defence. We’re not attacking them.”

“But what are they doing?”

“They are curious.” The words fell from Virgil’s lips without much in the way of thought. The sense of the song had switched from calling to curiosity. He hummed the dominant audible melody. It was little more than a series of pulsating tones backed by the infrasound in his bones.

His hand was still in the water, still seeking the unheard notes when John drew in a sharp breath. “Gordon, move the boat!”

Their fish brother grabbed the oars, but before he could take a single stroke, something touched Virgil’s hand.

The mother whale surfaced, the tip of her massive chin lifting out of the water directly beside Virgil.

“Woah.” It was a whisper of wonder from Gordon.

Virgil, initially pulling his hand back in surprise, was mesmerised. The very colours he had painted barely two days ago, the shapes, the glisten, the immensity…

The all-consuming sound.

His fingers touched soft skin.

It felt like touching music.

He couldn’t help but respond, deep in his throat as best he could as the song shifted to one that echoed his amazement. The notes were organic, simple, yet complex and missing the sound he could not create.

Curiosity.

Puzzlement.

“Virgil?”

His voice wasn’t deep enough.

Or high enough.

“Virgil?” Someone was touching his cheek, a hand cupping the side of his face. He opened his eyes to find Scott in front of him, that ever-present worry on his face.

“I still can’t answer.” It was frustration and sadness all of his own.

“We’ll get you back on the yacht. We have the technology there.” Scott ever the enabler.

Ever the rescuer.

But suddenly his connection was lost. The song stopped and mother whale slipped beneath the surface. Virgil leant over the edge of the boat and might have followed if it wasn’t for that same grip on his arm.

There was an order from Scott that Virgil wasn’t focussed on, the oars cut the water and the boat resumed moving towards the yacht.

Virgil stared into the turquoise depths, lost without the buoy of the song. He sagged against the inflatable plastic.

“Gordon, faster!” It came from John. “She’s coming up again, but she’s not slowing down! Move!”

“I’m try-“

The whale hit the underside of the inflatable lifting it and all the brothers off the surface of the ocean for just a moment before tipping it over and throwing all five of them into the water.

-o-o-o-

End Day Four, Part Three.

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds fanfiction #thunderbirds #Virgil Tracy #Gordon Tracy #Scott Tracy #John Tracy #Alan Tracy #kermadec fic #kermadec islands

43 notes · View notes