#which is about 7-8 dozen people in a room together with lots of hugs from people who may not be the best at washing hands
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loversword · 5 months ago
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sick for the whole weekend and called out today and probably can't go to the gym this week rraaghhh
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legolasghosty · 2 years ago
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excuse me while i send you a million questions from that ask game 😂 but.... 2, 4, 5, 7, 8, 23, 29, 37 and 38!
Hiiiii babe!!!!! No excuse needed, I love the million questions!
2 - Is there a trope you’ve yet to try your hand at, but really want to?
Answered here, but I'll add another one cause why not. I don't think I've ever actually written a kid fic, either where one of the canon characters is a much younger child than they are in canon and it's about their childhood, or where you have canon characters becoming parents. I've thought about various versions of it a fair amount with various characters, but I've never really messed with anyone's age more than a few years in either direction. Willex would be great parents though, just saying...
4 - How many fic ideas are you nurturing right now? Care to share one of them?
Uhhhhh.... a lot? I don't have a ton of writing time at the moment, so the ideas are just building up in my head. There's at least half a dozen, probably more, in various stages of planning and daydreaming and being written.
One that I'm in the process of setting up is actually a response to a prompt you sent me like two weeks ago. Basically, Willex goes on an ice skating date. Neither has done it before, but both assume the other will be great at it, since they both dance and Willie is almost never without his beloved skateboard. Spoiler alert, they are both awful at it. Chaos and flirting and falling and probably a lot of hot chocolate ensues.
5 - Share one of your strengths.
None of the above.
Kidding, don't kill me please! Uhhh, I guess I'm alright at domestic fluff? Like, just the blurbos hanging out and doing boring life stuff together and loving each other. I really like some good domestic fluff, and I've been informed that I am decent at making it too, which is cool!
7 - Share a snippet from one of your favorite pieces of prose you’ve written and explain why you’re proud of it.
Stop making me say nice things about myself! Okay, answered here, but I guess you'll yell at me if I don't do another one so...
There were many things that were hard about being on tour. The long hours on the bus, for example. Or the fact that he couldn't just leave when Luke got too loud, or wail on his drums whenever he wanted, due to them being packed away between locations. But he loved touring with Julie and the boys. And he loved that Willie was able to come with them. Because it meant that he could do the things he loved, with the people he loved, all the time. They'd had to wait a couple of years after forming the band and Julie's Magical Hug of Destiny to go very far from LA since Julie had to finish high school, but they were finally doing it! And it was amazing!
Except when it wasn't. Except on days like this when Alex just didn't have the energy for anything beyond the basic necessities. And, unfortunately for him, his body and brain didn't count showering as a 'necessity’. It wasn't that he didn't like showering, or that he didn't feel sweaty and dirty, despite still definitely being partially a ghost. No, there was just something about showering, specifically in unfamiliar places, that freaked his brain out. And, because of the tour, Alex was always in an unfamiliar place.
This is from the first proper fic I ever published(Read it here). It was basically just a projection fic to get me through a rough patch, but I think it actually turned out okay and it holds a special place in my heart as the first thing I posted.
8 - Share a snippet from one of your favorite dialogue scenes you’ve written and explain why you’re proud of it.
Do I have tooooooo?
Then Willie turned around and Alex’s gaze fixed on his face. The conflicted wave of emotions from before seemed to have simplified into just two: excitement and fear. “What do you think?” they asked softly, chewing nervously on their lower lip.
Alex was across the room in an instant, pausing for a beat to wait for Willie’s nod before resting his hands on their biceps. “Willie, you look incredible! ” he stated quietly. “I’m pretty sure half of my brain isn’t even working right now with how good you look. How do you feel?”
Willie chuckled and stepped forward, leaning into Alex’s chest. “I feel good,” he whispered as Alex pulled him close. “I really like it.”
“I’m glad,” Alex murmured. “I really like it too.”
Willie pulled away suddenly, grinning as he threw his arms out and spun around in a circle, the black fabric flying out around him. “It’s so swishy!” they exclaimed, giggling.
I guess this? It's from a fic called It's New, It Looks Good On You that I published a few months back, in which Alex gets Willie their first skirt. I guess I just like how comfortable they feel around each other, even in a pretty vulnerable situation. Healthy relationships, my beloved!
23 - If you were to revise one of your older fics from start to finish, which would it be and why?
Oh gosh, well none of my stuff is really that old. I only started actually writing early last summer. I guess... Okay, I didn't post I'll Be Here, I'll Hold You Through It till like six months ago, but I wrote it over a year ago now. It was basically written in a late night fit of anxiety and seriously needing a hug, and I feel like it isn't that good. I mostly posted it out of nostalgia and because I wanted to post something. I kinda feel like I could do better with the material now and it would be a better fic.
29 - If you could write the sequel (or prequel) to any fic out there not written by yourself, which would you choose?
Oh gosh, I wouldn't dare touch most of my favorite fics with a ten foot pole, I'd wreck them. But... there's some thoughts lurking in my ideas doc about a prequel to Girl Crush by the lovely @valiantlyweepingdreamer, giving the story of one of the couples that is already together in the main fic. I have no idea if I'll ever actually get around to writing it, but we discussed ideas for a while back in November I think.
37 - Talk about your current wips.
Oh you're gonna regret asking that one, I could ramble about my wips for hours. I'll try and keep it short here, and expand on the Willex ice skating fic I mentioned above. (No I haven't actually started writing it, shut up!)
The date is Alex's idea, cause Reggie and Luke were teasing him and Willie about how they never go on 'proper dates'(Hey, who needs to stay legal when you're invisible, and they have the best cuddle dates). So Alex googles a list of date ideas and is like, "Oh, ice skating, I bet Willie will be good at that." So they go(invisibly), snag a couple pairs of skates from the rental booth(They can put them back later, it's not like they're gonna leave germs on them or something, Alex!), and go out on the ice... only for Alex to immediately fall. Willie laughs and tries to help him up, only to lose his balance and fall too.
They kinda sort it out eventually, but they never get off the wall without hanging onto each other's hands for dear life. Afterwords, they poof back to the Molina's and make hot chocolate, because what is ice skating without hot chocolate?
38 - Talk about a review that made your day.
Okay, this was just on a doc I sent to a friend(after many conversations about said fic and me tinkering with it for literal months despite being under 1k long), but their response was so sweet!!!
"i have something to say i think this might be one of my favourite things i've read from you, if not the favourite it's so good for one because i love kissing in any way shape or form, highest form of expression of love for me, but also because it's written just so beautifully, it's lyrical almost, the images, the phrases, the language metaphor, it's great!! i love it so much"
(^Copied from our DMs)
It was just so sweet and it totally made my day and while I have no idea if that fic will ever see the light of day(literally, cause I only ever seem to be able to work on it at night...), it just makes me really happy that someone else loves it so much! I love that fic, I'm just also terrified of it so... yeah. Anyways, I won't tag them cause I don't wanna be annoying, but if you see this, you know what I'm talking about and I love you!!!!!
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crimeronan · 5 years ago
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no supernatural au concept i haven’t been able to stop thinking about since considering ronan and opal were once the same age
the lynch family has a reputation.  partly it’s because they’re fucking weird, but let’s be real -- every rural town has its share of characters.  weird farmers are par for the course.  if the lynch family just kept to themselves at the barns, no one would know they existed.  however niall lynch is a swaggering larger-than-life storybook hero who loves attention and scandal, so: the lynch family has a reputation
by and large, the household is made up of known entities.  niall, the irishman who never shuts the fuck up.  aurora, the quiet beautiful wife with the bizarrely gorgeous beadwork at craft fairs. declan, the eldest son who’s got one foot in DC and won’t ever look back when he gets there.  matthew, the youngest boy with the enthusiasm and adoration and intellectual prowess of a golden retriever puppy
however.  the lynch twins are largely folkloric
it’s not just that they never seem to appear in public.  it’s that there are a dozen decade-old stories told by knitting folks on their porches that cannot POSSIBLY all be true, including:
the lynch twins set fire to the post office
the lynch twins stole four pallets of soda from the back of a truck unloading at the henrietta general store and drank all the evidence
the lynch twins lured a man into the woods and stabbed him in the leg
the lynch twins helped the local vet’s office coordinate 30 TNR procedures because they’ve befriended a colony of feral cats
the lynch twins trained a rotating cast of corvids to shit on the mayor when he leaves his office every evening
the lynch twins were banned from three local churches after incidents involving a statue of mary, stained glass worth several thousand dollars, and the preacher’s microphone respectively
adam doesn’t give much of a shit about local gossip but has gleaned quite a bit of it when being deferential and polite to middle-aged women at the dollar store.  it takes him a month of attending aglionby to put together that ronan and declan are siblings (they look unbelievably alike, but their body language and speech are SO different) and another week after that to realize ronan’s one-half of the unidentified lynch family variables
“isn’t there another one of him?” adam blurts
declan looks up and blinks, nonplussed rather than smooth for once in his life.  “excuse me?”
adam’s eating lunch and has ended up at a table with declan not because of friendliness, but because declan’s taking a break from his roving cast of intransient social interactions to work on college apps and adam’s getting a head start on homework.  neither is here to make friends.  adam nods across the room at ronan, who appears to be constructing a fully landscaped mountain sculpture out of french fries
declan says “god, i wish” as ronan upends a bottle of ketchup over the fries and causes a volcanic eruption that obliterates everything in the lunch table’s path
that tells adam absolutely nothing but also he doesn’t really care.  later, when he and gansey are friends, and he’s no closer to understanding ronan but much more actively annoyed by him, he asks gansey the same thing
“oh, his sister!” gansey says, and beams.  this at least explains why she doesn’t go to aglionby.  “she’s great.  she’s taught me a lot about what plants want to kill you”
adam can’t decide what to make of this.  once upon a time he’d think that the affection of someone like gansey predisposed the mysterious lynch sister toward being like declan, but it turns out gansey reserves that ebullient expression for losers like him and ronan and noah alone, so.  more data necessary
it’s important to note that this isn’t like, occupying a huge part of adam’s mind.  it’s just idle querying because he likes knowing things.  to that end, he asks ronan once if he’d ever met ronan’s sister when adam attended the public junior high.  they’d be in the same grade, right??
ronan gets weird and evasive with some response about how she homeschools with his mom, and adam’s like okay, some religious cult thing with the women running the farm. whatever. not my issue
adam and ronan get slowly closer over time, etcetc, you know how it goes.  eventually adam's invited to the barns.  his first few visits are normal.  suspiciously normal.  aurora is loving and gentle in a way that makes adam skittish - probably more due to his own issues than any Actual malevolence, but who knows - and there is zero mention or sign of a girl living there
it doesn’t Really bother adam, but it kind of bothers him.  less because he’s dying to meet her and more because equations that don’t add up make him nervous.  his running list of theories include 1) she doesn’t exist 2) she’s dead 3) she’s at some elite boarding school for girls in connecticut 4) she’s an emancipated minor 5) she’s not an emancipated minor but has run away anyway 6) she’s a fugitive from justice 7) she’s in prison 8) she’s dead but, like, worse this time
adam carefully and subtly raises his concerns to ronan by asking, “so is your sister being tortured in your attic or what?”
ronan, reasonably, is like, “the fuck?”
adam’s like, “look, all i’m saying is that when a twin goes missing in a story and no one seems to care, something sinister’s afoot.  that’s all i’m saying here.”
ronan’s like, “say the word ‘afoot’ again.  you sound like gansey.  come on”
he takes adam out for a walk in the woods, which seems like a pretty murdery way to respond.  adam, uncomfortably aware of that rumor about luring people to the woods and stabbing them in the leg, is like okay i’m about to die here.  i’ve uncovered a lifetime movie plot and now i’m gonna be buried in unmarked barrel #457.  what a way to go
this is pretty much confirmed when he gets attacked
he hits the ground before he’s really registered anything beyond a surprise impact.  it drives the breath out of his lungs. he flips onto his back right away.  ronan’s got half a foot of height on him and stupidly long legs so a sprinting escape doesn’t seem viable.  he’s gonna have to rely on the old-fashioned power of fingernails and kicking
he has time to see a pair of blown-pupil eyes WAY too close to his face before the weight disappears from him.  the culprit is a girl, late teens, with hair that’s probably blonder when the matted dirt is washed out of it.  “for fuck’s fucking sake,” ronan is saying, hauling her to her feet and blessedly away from adam’s vulnerable internal organs, “why. WHY.”
“holy shit.”  adam sits up, clutching his chest.  he can feel every bone in his body.  “god. god. god”
the girl is almost as tall as ronan.  she’s dressed in some kind of baggy coverall-ish getup that might once have been an army parachute.  she is not wearing any shoes.  there’s some blood on her face from a recently-opened scab, and also a black speck on one cheek that adam thinks is a smashed fly
“you didn’t jump gansey!” ronan is saying, extremely exasperated.  “why!”
“i didn’t have my hammock yet when gansey first came,” she says.  she does not sound remotely sorry
adam looks up and discovers that there is in fact a hammock stretched between the trees.  it’s one of those heavy-duty camping numbers with thick canvas and a full insect net.  it’s also thirty feet in the air.  there are branches on the way down, but they are very precariously spaced.  adam does not want to know how she parkoured to leap onto his shoulders
“when you snap someone’s neck,” ronan says, “i’m not helping you hide the body”
“who says i haven’t already?”
“the fuck? and you didn’t ask me to help hide the body?”
she darts a few feet away and pulls herself into a tree.  adam watches with slight fascination as she shimmies out along a long branch until it dips under her weight.  as he gets to his feet, trying to piece together his wilted dignity, she rides her makeshift nature elevator down until she’s staring into his eyes again.  hugging the branch like a snake.  absolutely no consideration for how normal human beings behave. it’s almost marvelous
“sufficiently free of my attic, parrish?” ronan asks
“uh, yeah. yep”
“so this is opal,” ronan says
opal flips over so she’s hanging from the branch like a sloth.  then hooks her legs around it and reaches down until her palms are flat on the ground.  cartwheels out of the tree like a particularly feral acrobat.  adam jerks back to avoid being smacked by a faceful of twigs at the whipcrack slingshot of the branch bouncing back
opal pulls a pocketknife from one of the folds in the DIY parachute sewing machine tick protection onepiece from hell.  adam eyes her warily
“opal, this is parrish. or adam. whichever. don’t stab him”
“god,” adam says again
opal beams.  she opens the pocketknife, but all she does is start cleaning bits of plaque from between her teeth with the tip, which is somehow so much worse than stabbing.  adam looks at ronan and finds him pinching the bridge of his nose.  it occurs to adam that this is the only time he’s EVER seen ronan express any sense of embarrassment in any social situation.  ronan has no sense of propriety.  adam didn’t know he was capable of feeling embarrassed
he immediately likes opal just for that.
“yes,” opal says, unconcerned, answering a question no one’s actually asked.  “ronan is the normal one”
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thewritewolf · 5 years ago
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Eating Habits Chapter 11: A Dupain-Cheng Christmas
Marinette and Adrien move into their new apartment, but they aren’t there for long before heading over to spend a few days at the bakery for the holidays.
1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 (Final)
Enjoy!
Read on Ao3.
Marinette wandered around the apartment that she had spent the last few months living in. Somehow, she had expected it to look bigger now that it was empty again, but instead it just made her wonder how she hadn’t noticed how tiny it was. With the excitement of living on her own faded away, the apartment’s flaws were huge and glaring. The faster she would be out of it, the better.
Just outside the door, Adrien was leaning against the wall on his phone. He looked up at her and smiled when he heard the door close and lock behind her. He fell into step beside her as she marched down the stairs.
“How’s it feel to see it for the last time?” He reached for her hand and wove his fingers between hers. “Nostalgic? Relieved?”
“A little nostalgic, but mostly relieved,” Marinette admitted with a shrug. “I didn’t make a lot of positive memories there, so leaving it behind isn’t that rough. Then again, it is my first place away from home, you know?”
Marinette turned to look at Adrien and saw the understanding in his eyes. Suddenly she wanted to smack herself in the forehead. Of course he knew! He’s been away from home for years now. If anyone could understand, it was him.
But to her surprise, he nodded and said, “Yeah, leaving the bakery was an… interesting time for me too. There is always something sweet about spending the night there.” He pressed a kiss against the crown of her head. “It isn’t the same without you, of course.”
“Something ‘sweet’, huh? Was that a pun, kitty?” She tried to ignore the way her heart fluttered - she couldn’t tell if it was from joy that he called her home his home, or from pain that he never saw his childhood estate as home.
“Maybe it was just a happy coincidence. Some Christmas magic in the air!”
She rolled her eyes playfully. “Speaking of Christmas, are you ready to spend a few days at the bakery?”
“Definitely! It’ll be nice and cozy and full of life.”
“And someone will finally be making food for you rather than you cooking, for once.”
“I do like taking a break every now and then. But I’m more looking forward to you getting a proper, home cooked meal.”
“And here I thought getting a special lunch everyday from my wonderful boyfriend counted as a ‘proper’ home cooked meal.” She looked up at him and smiled, watching with satisfaction as his face flushed. He was such a flirt, but he never was good at taking what he dealt out.
The conversation drifted through Christmas plans and promises to find time for their friends. It touched briefly on the upcoming semester, but they wisely avoided dwelling on it for too long. Marinette had only just finished the fall semester after all. She wanted to revel in her break without a care in the world for just a little longer.
They arrived at their new apartment just as the movers began unloading. An hour later, and the empty space was taken up with boxes of things. Marinette looked around at the boxes, her smile slowly turning into a frown as she noticed a unifying theme with the storage containers.
“Hey, Adrien? Where is all of your stuff?”
“Um…” His eyes roved the room quickly before settling on a few tucked away in the back. He stood beside them and let his hand rest on them. “This is it.”
She glanced between him, the five or so containers all stacked on top of each other, and then at the two dozen or so boxes of hers scattered around the room.
“I��� I don’t really have a lot.” Adrien rubbed the back of his neck nervously. “I have some games and a collection of movies, but I gave most of that away back when I moved into the bakery. I don’t have a huge wardrobe anymore either. I guess I just… never really got much for me? Besides some pots and pans, I guess.” He shrugged, an uncertain smile on his face.
Again, Marinette looked at the boxes holding all her things. It wasn’t just the bare essentials, things necessary for her to survive from day to do. They were memories. Hobbies. Studies. The things that turned survival into living. She was suddenly gripped by a piercing sadness in her heart. A little teary eyed she turned back to Adrien, who was looking down at his stack of things with a thoughtful expression, fingers drumming on the plastic lid.
“It’s fine, really. I’ve never actually needed much and it does help cut down on stress while moving, so there is definitely a bright side to-” He was cut off when Marinette ran into him, arms clinging tightly to his waist as she buried her face into his chest. After a few surprised moments, he returned her hug.
“Don’t be afraid to take up space, kitty,” Marinette said into his shirt. “Let yourself live, okay?”
“Thanks, lovebug.”
After a little longer than strictly necessary, Marinette let him go and looked around at the boxes, frowning. “So… where do you want to start?”
Before he could respond, her stomach growled.
Adrien laughed. “Sounds like a plan. Let me just-” Adrien groaned when he opened the refrigerator, only to find it empty. “...How about some grocery shopping?”
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“Are you sure you’ve got all that?” Marinette watched him dubiously as he walked out of the supermarket, each hand holding three or four bags of groceries. “Both of my hands are empty, you know.”
“Oh, right. That’s a good point. Give me a minute.”
Absently, Marinette held out her hand while she opened her phone, expecting him to pass her some of the bags. She blinked in surprise when he started holding her hand instead. Her eyebrows rose when she saw that he’d simply moved all the bags into his other hand.
“Adrien that’s not what I-”
“Come on, let’s go make our first dinner at the new place!” Adrien rushed forward, dragging her along with him as he broke into a light jog towards the bus station.
Marinette couldn’t help but laugh at his ridiculousness. It wasn’t even a full day that they’d been living together and she was already loving every moment of it.
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After a week of unpacking, Marinette and Adrien finally had their apartment set up and functional… only for them to immediately leave to spend a few days at the bakery. Each of them carried a suitcase in one hand and held onto each other with the remaining free hand. They chatted as they walked through the snowy streets of Paris on the way to the family bakery, Marinette cuddling closer as the icy wind picked up.
“Look on the bright side, bugaboo,” Adrien said with a kiss to her temple. “It’ll be nice and warm and perfect when we get back to the apartment. We can just relax for the rest of your vacation.”
“Our vacation,” Marinette corrected. “The bakery isn’t open much around Christmas either, and I’m sure papa and maman won’t be giving you many shifts there while we’re getting settled in. Besides, it's not like being at my parents’ place is stressful or anything.”
“I suppose, but after a semester of running around and working frantically, I’d bet you just want to crash on the couch for a while.”
“You’re not wrong, but…” Marinette said as she squeezed his hand, “...spending time with the people I love is even better.”
She could see his teary smile as they approached the bakery, its lights reflected in his eyes. After walking out in the chilly late December air for the last ten minutes, the gentle warmth of the bakery was simply divine. And that was before taking a deep breath of the sugary air, a scent that immediately took her back to her childhood. It was as if she took the weight of the world off her shoulders and hung them along with her coat by the door.
“Marinette? Adrien? Is that you?” Tom’s voice called out from the living room. Soon enough, his giant self was emerging through the door frame, his face lighting up when he saw them. “Sabine, it’s the kids!”
Marinette had a brief glimpse of a garish red and green sweater before becoming lost in it as she was picked up off the ground and wrapped into a great big bear hug. Laughing, she squirmed in his arms.
“Papa! Let me down!”
Begrudgingly, he did so and looked at Adrien, giving him a strong pat on the back that jolted him forward. “Did you remember to dress for the occasion, son?”
“Did you think I would forget?” Adrien said with a smirk, taking off his coat to reveal a thick red and black wool sweater that Marinette had made for him a couple years back.
Tom glanced toward Marinette, who was wearing a matching green and black sweater. To everyone else, it would simply be a pair of Christmas clothes, but Marinette had known even back then how much Adrien loved wearing her colors. And if he was going to be wearing hers, then naturally she’d be wearing his.
“That’s wonderful!” Tom said, grinning. “I didn’t expect any less. Now come on, we were just about ready to make this year’s Christmas ornaments.”
They followed him into the living room, where Sabine was sitting with some tea in front of her. After giving both of them a tamer but no less loving hug, she passed them a cup of her seasonal brew. Marinette looked at the table, taking in the box of crayons, the blank glass bulbs, tweezers, and the two hair dryers. Not to mention a few more conventional art supplies, like brushes and paint. Her chin settled on her hand as she stared fondly at the supplies, a tradition that they’d been keeping alive for almost as long as she could remember.
A tradition that had evolved into something of a lighthearted competition once Adrien had entered the picture and they could split into even teams.
Her parents let them get comfortable in their seats and familiar with where everything was placed before Tom pulled out his phone.
“Same as usual, kids. One hour to make the most and the best ornaments, with the same grading standards from last year.” He waggled a finger at Adrien chastisingly. “Which means nothing that can start a fire hazard, alright?”
Adrien ducked his head bashfully and rubbed the back of his neck in embarrassment. “Yeah, yeah, I know.”
“Alright.” Tom held up the phone’s stopwatch, his finger hovering over the enlarged start button. “Ready… set… Go!”
The four of them exploded into a flurry of motions, scrambling for crayons and bits of ribbon. Marinette became focused on what she and Adrien were doing, blocking out her parents entirely. The first ornament was very basic - the only crayons were some green and red and a bit of white. Enough to hand over to Adrien so he could start heating it up with the hair dryer, the longest part.
After she had several ornaments prepped with crayon color pallets, she began working on cutting tasteful amounts of ribbons to top the orbs with. Her hands moved almost by instinct, the long semester having seen more than its fair share of fabric cutting and measurements by eye. By the time she was done with that, Adrien had finished melting the wax of two of the ornaments and was methodically working on the third. The ribbons were quickly tied into a neat bow and she began delicately painting wintery scenes on the outside - white snowflakes featuring heavily alongside flowing script.
Once they got into a groove, they worked like the well oiled machine that they always were. By the time the hour was up, there were eleven finished ornaments in front of them. A quiet sense of pride filled her as she looked them over. Now that she wasn’t timed, she could enjoy how good they turned out. Maybe one of these years she could add them to her online store as a seasonal special?
She looked over at her parents’ side and noticed that they had managed to squeeze in an extra one somehow. After some playfully heated debate, they decide that everyone had won, though it had been especially close this year.
The Christmas tree was adorned with the newest ornaments, but Marinette didn’t manage to hang more than one before she got caught up looking at ones from previous years. Most of them would be given away to friends and family, but the best they kept. Whether it was because they were the highest quality or the ones that were the heaviest with memories, it didn’t matter.
Her fingers traced over a particularly old one, and a small smile warmed her face at the memories it stirred.
“Adrien’s first Christmas here, right?”
Marinette jolted a little at her mother’s voice appearing right beside her. The expression on her face must have been similar to Marinette’s own, eyes distant as if seeing back into that night, years and years ago, when the two of them had just started dating.
“Yeah… he made this one himself,” Marinette replied, turning back to the hung decoration.
It was pretty clear it had been his first attempt at anything like that before. The white and pink of the wax didn’t cover the inside completely and patches of bare glass were frequent. A stick figure with pigtails holding hands with a plain stick figure Adrien had promised was the two of them standing under a green splodge that she was assured was mistletoe. It wasn’t the prettiest thing he’d made - as the years wore on and he spent more Christmases at her home, he’d certainly gotten better - but it was always stayed her favorite.
Adrien groaned when he saw what they were looking at, his cheeks flushing as red as his sweater. “Do we really need to stare at that one every year? It looks awful!”
“It’s cute!” Marinette patted his back. “Little baby Adrien made that one just for me.”
Adrien grumbled and looked away, his blush spreading down to his neck. Mercifully, she let go of the ornament and walked away.
The rest of the night was just as eventful. They baked cookies and sang while they did it, ranging from peaceful lullabies to loud and off-key pop songs. Marinette didn’t realize just how much she had missed the home cooked pastries until she bit into one for the first time in months.
She has halfway through a plate when there was a loud noise from the kitchen. Her papa came out, his apron soaked, but still in good spirits.
“Something happen in there?” Marinette said, raising an eyebrow as she lifted another cookie to her mouth. She had to remember to leave some for Tikki or else she wouldn’t speak to her for a month.
“Oh, don’t worry, dear,” Tom replied. “The kitchen sink just needs some attention is all. Adrien, can you get the toolbelt? I think it’s time for us to earn our keep, hm?” He smiled and winked.
While Adrien left her side, she settled into the empty space he left and closed her eyes. She was glad she had a home to come back to - and she was happy that she could share hers with Adrien. A satisfied smile came to her face as she thought about their living space now, and how much better it would be now that they were living together again.
The snow started coming down hard outside, but wrapped up in a warmth that went beyond the physical, Marinette didn’t mind a bit.
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canvasofthecosmos · 6 years ago
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Traits I’ve noticed in the rising signs I’ve met
Aries   Catchphrase: “Another Day in Paradise.” A lot of head shaking- pretty much uses their heads to point to objects and communicate in general, hates wasting their breath. First ones to get frustrated when confronted by any obstacles. Firm believer that if you want it done right, do it yourself. Starts a new hobby every few months then gets bored and goes on to the next. Wants SO BADLY for someone to be their gym buddy. Actually just wants everyone to be their friend, they talk to strangers like they’ve known them for years. Falls asleep instantly but also wakes up a lot in the middle of the night. Already thinking of what to get into after this. Taurus Catchphrase: "Hold your horses." Slow but sure footing, maintains eye contact, knows when to raise their voice. Moves like they have a weight on their shoulders. Just wants to get everything out of the way all at once so they end up furiously multitasking. Actually, probably winds up finishing everything at once because they procrastinated too long. During the times they should be catching up on work, they can probably be found doodling, trying to form a band or cooking. Tries to pull all-nighters because they even procrastinate in going to bed, then gives up some time after 3 am and oversleeps that morning. Gets new clothes and then proceeds to wear their staple sweatshirt for the next month regardless. Gemini Catchphrase: Whatever their favorite meme is at the moment. Will Stare You Down with such intent that you think they have beef, but it’s cause they either heard a story about you through the grapevine or just think you’re cute. Will find any excuse to make small talk. Probably talked to you once in passing and now always stops to chat when they see you. Great writers because they LOVE gossip almost as much as practical jokes, preferring to sit back and watch the magic unfold before them. Most likely to get yelled at by a teacher in grade school because they were nose deep in a novel in the middle of a lesson. Takes at least one (1) different personality test online a day. Lays in bed staring at the ceiling for at least an hour before they finally fall asleep. Signs of aging cease at the ripe age of 12. Cancer Catchphrase: “What do you mEan.” Tend to have rounder features, therefore more insecure about their weight even when they’re perfectly healthy. Fueled entirely by emotional fulfillment. You can tell EXACTLY how they’re feeling just by looking at them. Loves to baby anything they can, especially small pets. Always has like 3 candles burning at once. Has 1 tapestry per wall of their room/house. Their clothes look SO comfy but so stylish?? Try hards as kids but when they grow up, they shamelessly enjoy things that they pretended to hate when they were young. You can call them crying at any time of the day and they will come running with a wine bottle in one hand and a homemade meal in the other. Has to clean off their bed before they lay down every night not because its dirty but they have more pillows than one human could ever use at once. At least one of their parents, more likely their mom if they’re on good terms, will adopt all their friends as her additional children. Leo Catchphrase: “So...” (used to exaggerate, inquire, and to connect ideas, often all at once). I know that everyone says this but their hair is the first thing you see, there’s just so much how do you miss it?? So ready to party it has to be unhealthy. Will hug you and endearingly call you bitch within 5 minutes of knowing them. Ready to start so much shit at any time (air signs love em because they can just stand a safe distance away and take it all in) but eventually they or (more likely) the Offender gives in and it’s all good... for now. Heart on their sleeve 24/7. Needs to set the stage of their life all the time and has a playlist for every Mood, which means at least 40. A walking, talking advertisement for their favorite things- #1 hype man/wing man. Loves to sleep, will sleep through any/accidentally turn alarms off instead of snooze them so they have to set 5-10 at least. Will stay in bed as long as possible, and are very rarely morning people. Most likely to rock bangs and pigtails into adulthood. At least half of their possessions are holographic/glittery/light-up. Virgo Rising Catchphrase: "It’s no problem." Chuckles to themselves often because they pick up on the weirdest little details around them. The only time their hands aren’t busy fiddling with something is when they sleep. Seem mad shy at first but will dissolve tension in an instant with a wisecrack. Thrives in awkward situations and uses these opportunities to make friends. Makes things uncomfortable on purpose to watch people squirm. First person in the room to speak up about something and show initiative in projects. Probably fluent in technology, a trade like mechanics, culinary arts or cosmetology, or at least one instrument. Animal whisperers, probably has a couple cats and some fish. Still learning how to get their lives together. Only warning signs before they snap is a split second of frustrated silence. Drawing skills were enhanced the most during grade school because they drew on every surface their little hands could get to. Libra Rising Catchphrase: Probably whatever their friends have greeted them the most with this week. Desperate to connect, so they’ll talk about pretty much anything and probably won’t be bothered by someone they recently met sitting thigh-to-thigh. Makes friends with gorgeous folks but also flocks to loud, outspoken people. Personality is different around different people. Least likely to talk about their family. Perpetually confused but still truckin’. Will talk about anything and everything and see both sides. Only plays devil’s advocate when they don’t care about a topic/point of view and just want you to shut up. Subconsciously acts differently depending on who they’re around. Presentation is mad ambiguous so not only can they easily pull off androgyny but they can somehow flaunt styles that are hard to pull off, and then look like they can be anywhere from 16 to 30 to boot?? Takes a long time to fall asleep because they want to get their life together and plan the most when its time to go to bed.  Scorpio Rising Catchphrase: -they don’t have one as they prefer to communicate solely with their eyes. Either you love them or your hate them. The longer you go without seeing them, the harder it is to recognize them next time you do. Try so hard to look big and scary and unapproachable as a defense mechanism. You only need to know them for a few days to realize that they’re actually HUGE softies. Makes smart-ass comments under their breath when you do something ridiculous because “they can’t help it.” That’s partially true, but mostly they really want you to hear their mumbling so that they don’t have to spell it out to you. Trust me, their backhanded remark you weren’t supposed to hear is much nicer then what they’ll say to your face when provoked. Other than this, they can communicate perfectly with only their eyes. Most likely to give the best advice that no one listens to, but also the least likely to listen to good advice themselves because they learn best from experience. Believes there’s a time and place for everything. Pretends to hate cuddling but snuggle in their sleep; sleeps under a minimum of 3 soft blankets with the fan going. Sagittarius Rising Catchphrase: "I Know, Right?" Either smiling like a fool because they’re completely oblivious or because they know something you don’t, it’s hard to tell. Probably has long legs, most likely to fill out as they age. Somehow always approachable bc they are going into everything with gusto. In matters regarding everything but themselves, they blindly trust everything and everyone around them. Turns everything into a joke. Annoyingly agreeable until they feel comfortable with you, at which point they go full know-it-all mode. They have no patience and once they reach their wits end, they will tell you exactly what’s on their mind and they don’t care who you think you are. Always finding trouble because they have no impulse control and no respect for authority. Once you get them on their soapbox there’s no escape. Can only sleep in total darkness, probably sleeps with a pillow on their face. When you find them asleep in their bed, you’ll wonder at first if they’re dead if you can even see them buried under the covers. Capricorn Rising Catchphrase: Anything sarcastic. Rushes through everything so they have more time to relax before they go to bed at 8 pm sharp. Prominent bone structure, especially cheekbones. Will drop everything to help even though their plate is full because they secretly care but will cover this up with complaints. Gives people they care about allowances of some kind, especially when they have more of something you want/need. Hardest rising to find self acceptance/love, but wind up the best at it. Faces adversity with dark humor. True personality is hidden behind at least a dozen masks. First of their friends to have a Finsta. Rare to find one without an addiction to coffee or cigarettes. Learned at a super young age how to cook for themselves. Most likely to be a latch-key kid. Buys everything online. Researches everything they partake in beforehand at least a week before. Likes to sleep early and wake up early so they don’t miss anything. Plans their next adventure when they try to sleep. Aquarius Rising Catchphrase: something cryptic under their breath that doesn't make sense and can't be translated to modern english. Looks more like their ancestors further up the family tree than their own parents. Has to be raise as many eyebrows as possible. Does everything in a backwards, roundabout way that makes sense to only them. Quickly figures out out all the possible outcomes of a situation, still goes for the most hair-brained route. Makes everything a meme. Weirdest taste in music and fashion, but somehow rocks it effortlessly. They know exactly the impact they have on others and uses it to their advantage. Considers themselves the mom friend. Gone at the first sign of emotional involvement. Attracts drama but denounces it as petty at the same time. Like Capricorn, it’s hard to find one that isn’t addicted to something that’s bad for them. Can only fall asleep if they feel like they accomplished something and made a difference that day, no matter how small.  Pisces Rising Catchphrase: “Livin’ the dream.” Really just wants to go home and dissolve. This is the hardest sign to guess, but once you get their birth time it all makes sense. Sad puppy eyes perk up and reflect everything you are when you have their attention. Consumes media you’ve never heard of. Probably came out of the womb knowing how to play an instrument. Escapism of choice is either drugs and alcohol or fantasy games/books/movies. Half the time it’s impossible to tell if they are currently messed up, hungover or just tired, but it’s always at least one of the three. Doesn’t realize how much people drain them until it’s too late. They try very hard to give it their all, but most of the time they’re running on a low energy reserve as-is. Ironically most awake at bedtime, daydreaming of something to give them hope and a reason to wake up in the morning.
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cakesunflower · 6 years ago
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Reach For You [Dad!Calum AU] Ch. 8
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Previous Chapters: Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7
Chapter 8
IT SEEMED LIKE a running theme for Aspen to be blindsided whenever she showed up to Calum’s apartment. Sure, the first time had been uneventful, but the second time she had the pleasure of walking in on the aftermath of one of his hook ups—which, much to her chagrin, was seared into her mind without consent. Aspen expertly ignored the stinging sensation she felt whenever she thought of the fact that Calum slept with some other woman, especially when she knew he most definitely had been with multiple women over the years they’ve broke up, and especially when she also knew it was none of her damn business.
Whatever.
The third time, which was now, that she came by Calum’s apartment, Aspen found herself freezing once more upon entering the living room because she had most definitely not been expecting three familiar people to rise up from the couch as she walked in. Not for the first time did Aspen mentally find herself cursing Calum, this time for not warning her that his three best friends were currently over.
Aspen knew that they were in the city, knew Calum had introduced them to Luna. She’d been annoyed at first, but knew that it would happen eventually, so she didn’t make a big deal out of it. Ashton, Michael and Luke were Calum’s closest friends and she knew it was a matter of time until he introduced Luna to them. It only made her bristle because the more people Luna came to know from Calum’s life, the louder the realization in Aspen’s mind was that this was permanent.
She was used to Calum being back in her life, but that didn’t mean she was prepared for the others that came back with him.
“I’ll go get Luna,” Calum said, walking out of the living room and down the hall, and Aspen burned holes in his back because was he seriously about to leave her with his friends?
Then again, if Aspen could handle Calum, she figured she could handle the other three.
“Long time no see.” It was Luke who broke the heavily tense and awkward silence, drawing Aspen’s gaze back to him. He’d gotten taller, it seemed, and his hair was a lot longer and curlier than she remembered. It suited him.
“Yeah,” she nodded in response, a bit unnerved at their gazes. Clearing her throat lightly, Aspen awkwardly added, “How, uh, have you guys been?” God, this was painfully strange.
Aspen remembered a time where she would laugh and have fun and get drunk with these guys. Now the conversation had barely begun and already it felt like pulling teeth.
“Good,” Michael nodded with a thin smile, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jackets. He’d taken to wearing glasses. “You?”
She swallowed down nothing in particular, tugging at the lapels of her jacket. “I’m good, yeah. Good.”
“Yeah?” Aspen’s gaze shifted over to Ashton, taken aback at how much hostility he held in just one word, frowning when she saw the challenging look on his face. “Being in hiding has been good for you, huh?”
Heart slamming against her rib cage, Aspen crossed her arms over her chest, trying to keep the incredulity and hurt off her face as she pursed her lips. She already had to deal with Calum’s comments about her disappearance, she didn’t need it from his friends, too. Aspen wasn’t going to fall victim to their glares and remarks. So she jutted her chin, trying to appear as nonchalant and defiant as she could as she quipped, “Something like that.”
Clearly Ashton didn’t appreciate her near sarcasm, eyes narrowing as he took a few steps forward. Aspen stood her ground, her fiery gaze never leaving his as Michael and Luke watched along warily. “How the fuck could you do that to him? Just run away and hide his kid from him? It’s fucking despicable.”
A sharp, heavy breath escaped Aspen, green eyes widening because who the fuck did he think he was, talking to her like that? Ashton didn’t know the truth, none of them did, but that didn’t give them the excuse of talking to her like she was some sort of scum. Aspen was painfully aware that she hurt Calum, felt the guilt of it eat her up inside for the past number of years only for it to revive when she laid eyes on him again. But did none of them think to consider that she was hurt, too? That running away from the man she loved tore her heart out?
She could tell them, but there was always a chance they’d still find fault in her for that. And it couldn’t count on the truth to protect her, then what else was Aspen to do?
“Ash, dude, relax,” Luke cut in, grabbing his friend’s elbow to tug him back.
Aspen’s teeth grinded together, nails digging into her arms through the material of her jacket. “This has nothing to do with you, okay?” she damn near spat, eyes still on Ashton. “It’s between me and Calum, so stay out of it, Ashton.”
Ashton scoffed, looking nothing like the kind, welcoming guy she used to know. The Ashton she had been friends with was warm and inviting, always friendly; the man in front of her looked at her through a gaze of nothing but contempt and distaste. It was nerve wracking, but Aspen didn’t let it show. “Nothing to do with me?” Ashton leaned towards her, despite Luke’s grip. “You’re not the one who had to pick up the pieces you shattered by leaving. That was me. That was us.”
A bitter taste conjured on Aspen’s tongue at Ashton’s words, trying not to picture the devastation she may have left behind when she left. It was something that often kept her up at night over the years, stemmed from guilt and longing and everything in between.
“Everything okay in here?”
Calum’s voice interrupted the scene and Ashton pulled back, Aspen taking a step away as well as she blinked and  forced a smile at the sight of Luna, who was already bounding her way over. “Hi, baby,” Aspen breathed, crouching down to be at eye level with her. “Ready for the party?”
It was Richie’s daughter, Mariam’s, birthday and Aspen and Luna were to meet up with them on Coney Island. Mariam’s birthday fell on Sunday so instead of spaghetti Sunday, Aspen and Luna were spending it with her brother’s family. As much as he wanted to spend more time with Luna, Calum didn’t object, deciding to focus on some business for once.
“Yeah,” Luna grinned before turning around to go over to Calum, who bent down to return the hug she was offering. “Bye, Daddy!”
Calum kissed her temple. “Bye, bug.”
Aspen stood by somewhat awkwardly as Luna then gave hugs to the other boys as well, who instantly softened at the sweet four year old. Her gaze flickered to Calum, who was smiling fondly at the sight of his friends hugging his daughter, and Aspen briefly wondered if Ashton shared his feelings about her to Calum. Then she refrained a scoff; of course he most likely had. Question was, did Calum feel the same?
When Luna finished with her goodbyes, Aspen couldn’t have dragged her out of there faster if she tried.
                                                             *****
“Trick or treat!”
Aspen smiled from where she stood at the end of the driveway, arms crossed over her chest as she watched the woman at the doorway drop heaps of candy into all the kids’ buckets. She’d lost count of how many houses they’ve hit, but Luna’s bucket was getting more and more candy and her costume was getting all sorts of compliments, and it brought a smile to Aspen’s face each time.
Her little girl was dressed as her favorite Disney character—Moana, of course—and Aspen had spent weeks on her costume, making sure to get it exactly as shown in the movie. Plus, it helped Luna had her own thick curls, and her daughter looked like a real life replica of the character. Of course, Aspen took dozens upon dozens of pictures, her heart soaring at the sight of her. Luna looked too cute for words.
The same could be said for the man next to her. Technically, Calum was supposed to be at his club for the Halloween rager that was currently going on, but this was so much better. As soon as he had arrived to Aspen’s apartment and his gaze landed on Luna, Calum felt that familiar lightness in his chest at the sight of his daughter, who looked all kinds of precious adorability in her costume. He had to hand it to Aspen, she’d done a great job, and Luna loved how she looked. Just like Aspen, Calum took dozens of pictures of and with Luna, making sure to send them to the group chat he had with the boys who, even though they were at his club, all responded with intense fondness.
It had been a few weeks since they met her, and already the boys were unsurprisingly taken with Luna. To Calum’s surprise, Aspen wasn’t all too pissed that they met her. There had been some palpable tension between her and Ashton, Calum knew, but he didn’t comment on it. He still hadn’t figured out the exact standing of his feelings towards his ex, he didn’t even want to think about where his friends stood with her. If he couldn’t understand himself, how was he expected to understand the others?
“Couple of more houses and then we gotta get going, okay?” Aspen said to Luna once the little one returned.
They finished soon enough, with Calum and Aspen silently trailing after Luna as she went from door to door, with Calum eventually having to carry her plastic pumpkin bucket because the amount of candy weighing it down was too much for her to hold. Surprisingly, it wasn’t too awkward between them; it was silent, sure, but comments weren’t made and looks weren’t exchanged. It was strange but not tense.
Eventually, they returned to Aspen’s apartment, where they caught sight of Richie waiting in front of the door. “Sorry to keep you waiting,” Aspen apologized as she dug her keys out, missing the confused frown on Calum’s faces at the presence of the other man. “I’ll get Luna’s stuff together real quick.”
Calum’s frown deepened, unsure of what was going on, as he followed them into the apartment. Luna was supposed to be going home with him, seeing as it was Friday and it was Saturday and it was his day with her. The only reason he brought her back early this morning was because it was Halloween and Aspen had her costume, and going trick or treating in this neighborhood was a lot easier, and probably safer, than in the city.
As Luna showed Richie all the chocolate and candy she got, Calum followed Aspen to Luna’s bedroom, jaw clenched as he watched her put together Luna’s overnight bag. “She’s supposed to be with me tonight,” Calum announced with an irritated frown.
Aspen didn’t spare him a glance as she pulled out Luna’s pajamas from the drawer, walking over to the bed where the small duffel bag was to put them in. “Not tonight. I told you; she has sleepovers at Richie’s on Halloween night.”
Calum scoffed, eyes following Aspen as she moved to the closet to pull out some clothes. “The fuck you did.” He ignored the scowl Aspen threw at him over her shoulder because he didn’t care. Aspen told him no such thing about some sleepover. “You can’t just hijack my night with her.” They had an agreement, assigned days of who gets Luna when, and Aspen was completely disregarding it.
Honestly, he was pissed. His anger, definitely, was stemming from weeks—years, really—of lingering irritation and aggravation and truthfully, tonight seemed like the night he was about to blow. And Calum had a feeling he wasn’t going to be able to control it.
Aspen snorted, oblivious to the anger simmering in Calum’s blood as she packed the rest of Luna’s things, whatever she may need for a night away. “No one’s hijacking anything,” she said with a roll of her eyes, brushing past him to exit the room. Then, she huffed reluctantly. “You can have Tuesday night. I’ve got a late shift and that way I won’t have to call the sitter.”
Calum’s jaw clenched as she walked away. She was stupid if she thought this was just over. He followed behind her, watching as she handed Richie the bag. “You don’t wanna change before you go?” Aspen asked Luna, who was still decked out in her costume.
When Luna shook her head, wanting to still be Moana for a few more hours, Aspen chuckled before giving her daughter a goodbye hug. Luna then went over to Calum, hugging him as well before leaving with Richie, leaving her parents alone in the living room.
And then Aspen was blindsided. Again.
“I’m sick and tired of you refusing to tell me things.” Aspen blinked, eyes widening and feeling a shiver run down her spine at the sound of Calum’s voice—low, guttural and a tense rasp. She turned around to face him, eyebrows rising at his set jaw and hard eyes; nothing she wasn’t used to, but slightly unsure what she’d done to provoke it at this moment. “The fuck happened to this whole co-parentin’ thing, huh?” Calum demanded, taking a few steps towards her. “Aren’t you supposed to let me in on any change of plans?”
For all her grace and confidence, it wasn’t a surprise Aspen could feel some of it slipping right now. It always seemed to, when it came to Calum.
“I don’t—I didn’t think it was a big deal.” She hated that she stammered, her eyes widening slightly in surprise at his harsh demeanor. Aspen wasn’t afraid of him—no, never—she was just bewildered at the fierce anger his dark eyes were swimming in. Specifically, she was completely confused as to why it was coming to the surface now. “She always sleeps over Richie’s on Halloween. It just—it slipped my mind to tell you.”
Apparently she wasn’t making things any better for herself.
“You didn’t think it was a big deal?” Calum repeated with a degrading scoff, lips curling up into a sneer. Aspen eyed him warily, heart pounding; she’d never seen this look on his face, never was on the receiving end of an expression from Calum that so loudly spoke of his vexation and contempt of her. The hostile looks hadn’t stopped, but they’d never been of this caliber. Never this fiery. He tilted his head to the side, regarding her distastefully. “Just like you didn’t think it was a big deal to tell me you were pregnant? That you were having my child? Didn’t think it was important for the father of your child to know something like that?”
Eyes wide, Aspen couldn’t feel anything other than incredulity at the man in front of her, who spat out his words in a thick accent and guttural growl with every step he took towards her, to the point where Aspen’s back was now against the wall next to the front door. Shit, she’d never seen him this mad; never to the point where the veins on his necks were prominent and the muscle in his jaw jumped so consistently, where his narrowed eyes were completely black in anger and nostrils flared in irritation.
More than that, Aspen’s mind was processing the words he was spewing, realizing that maybe Calum finally had enough. Maybe not knowing was finally pushing him over the edge.
She wasn’t surprised. It’d been nearly, what? Two months since they reunited? He held out a lot longer than she expected.
But this look in his eyes; angry, fired up, hungry—that, she hadn’t been completely anticipating.
Call Aspen crazy, but she could feel the electricity buzzing between their gazes, between their bodies, suddenly realizing just how close they were. Her back against the wall, Calum’s domineering height towering over her, broad shoulders obstructing her view of anything beyond him. This wasn’t the time—God knows this wasn’t the time—but their sudden proximity, the sharing of their heavy breaths, the earthy scent Calum seemed to carry invading her nose, and the near primal look on his face had Aspen’s body tightening in a way that was not at all anywhere near nerves or anger or anything of the sort.
In a way that she hadn’t felt, especially towards Calum, in years.
It was startling and confusing  so fucking thrilling all at once.
Lifting her chin slightly, Aspen spoke in a voice too much of a whisper for her liking, “I had my reasons.”
Calum leaned closer, to the point where Aspen was sure she could feel the ends of his curls brushing across her forehead, hard gazes never leaving each other. He was invading her personal space and her senses, and Aspen could feel her knees weakening at the realization that she didn’t mind. There was a time where this kind of closeness with Calum heightened her desire of wanting to press her body against it and now, years later, her throat dried at the comprehension that those desires never fucking left.
His right hand came up, ring clad fingers pressing against the wall next to her head, roughly responding, “There’s no fuckin’ reason good enough for you to keep Luna from me.” Aspen pressed her lips together, acutely aware of Calum’s gaze dropping to her mouth, her lips parting in a sharp inhale when his hips suddenly pressed against hers, the unexpected pressure sending a quiver down her thighs as her widened gaze met cool, near stoic one. “No fuckin’ reason good enough for you to leave me without warning.”
Aspen swallowed, stomach clenching and heart picking up its pace. “Calum—”
“Fuck you.” She inhaled sharply, noticing the curl of his full lips as he sneered at her, the distance between them still minimal, his hot breath fanning across her lips. His voice was a raspy growl, accent thickening with the harshness of his tone as her chest tightened with the breath she held in. “Fuck you for keepin’ Luna from me.” Calum leaned closer, which is when Aspen felt his left hand gripping her hip. Her heart jumped; he hadn’t touched her, not at all, in so long. God, Aspen could feel his touch searing through the material of her blouse, just like it always used to. “Fuck you for makin’ me miss out on four years of her life.”
With every word he spoke abrasively, his nose brushed ever so slightly along Aspen’s, and she wasn’t even sure if he was aware of that, if he was aware of how close they were. Her throat was dry, breath scratchy, lips pressed together as she listened to him curse at her. Calum’s eyes were dark, but as Aspen peered at them, she saw something else mixed in with the anger. Something she hadn’t seen in his eyes in years.
He pushed away from her suddenly, and Aspen felt a rush of cold air greet her as the distance between them grew, no longer feeling his dominating presence or his searing touch. She couldn’t ignore the loud fact that she missed it.
Calum ran his fingers through his curls, veins popping, messing his hair up as his free hand rubbed down his mouth. He looked at her, a few steps away now, roughly yanking his hand away from his head and pointing an accusatory finger at her. His voice was loud, vexed, as he declared, “Fuck you for leaving me.” He strode  towards her once more, movements quick and purposeful as his boots thudded on the floor. Aspen hadn’t moved from the wall, heart jumping excitedly as he closed the distance between them and growled, “Fuck you for making it so fucking hard to hate you.”
Aspen could hear and feel how shaky her breath was as she breathed through her nose, staring up at Calum with slightly widened eyes, her heart thundering against her ribcage with every word he spoke. She could feel his anger and betrayal; feel it in her heart heavily where the guilt already resided, as well as fear of revealing the truth. Not for the first time since Calum returned, Aspen wondered if the truth truly did set one free.
Her voice was hoarse from her dry throat due to the rage radiating off of the man in front of her. “You should,” she breathed, her eyes locked with his, “hate me.”
The muscle in his jaw jumped. “Damn fucking straight.”
Then his mouth was on hers, fierce and hot in a bruising kiss that knocked the air out of Aspen’s lungs. She gasped in surprise and Calum didn’t hesitate in letting his tongue take over hers, feeling his tight grip return to her hips as he pushed her into the wall. Her hands found his shoulders briefly before sliding up into his hair, fingers threading through his curls as she tugged him closer, the feeling of his lips against hers erupting a volcano of flames in the pit of her stomach.
Fuck, it’d been so long since she’d been kissed like this. So long since she’d felt Calum’s lips on hers, and despite this kiss being nothing short of heated and urgent and full of unadulterated rage mixed with lust, it still elicited the same sensations it once had years ago. Her skin still felt like it was on fire, her stomach was still twisting excitedly, her heart was still hammering—it still felt so fucking familiar. So fucking good.
She didn’t want to think; not about what they were doing and what the consequences of this would be. All Aspen could focus on what kissing Calum back, reveling in the way his fingers were roughly digging into her skin, head spinning from their frantic lips and tongues and clashing teeth.
Calum’s hands slid to the front of her jeans, their tongues lost in a frenzied dance as his nimble fingers made quick work of the button of her jeans. “Fuck you for depriving me of this,” Calum’s throaty voice growled against her lips, his teeth biting down on her lower lip, pulling a moan from Aspen that easily hardened him.
The feeling of her fingers in his hair, tightening with every move, had Calum pulling back and burying his face in the crook of her neck, letting out the groan against her skin. He smelt and tasted her familiar coconut scent, the mere fragrance of it making his dick twitch. Her fingers still in his hair, Calum heard Aspen moan out, “You’re not the only victim here.”
He bit down on the spot where her neck met her shoulder, well aware that it was a place that made her toes curl, only confirmed when Aspen gasped and tugged almost painfully at Calum’s hair. It wasn’t lost on Calum how familiar her body felt. “Shut the fuck up,” he grunted and, without warning or prelude, pulled her underwear to the side and slid a finger inside her already soaked entrance.
Calum smirked when Aspen let out a pleasurable mewl, spurring him on to enter a second finger and working her open. “Fuck,” Aspen hissed, right hand in his curls and left hand gripping his leather clad bicep. Calum dragged his lips up her neck, down her jaw before meeting her lips once more, keeping a steady rhythm of his fingers in her, utterly lost in how good this felt, how familiar being pressed up against her was and how he could’ve possibly gone years without this. Without her.
It was that realization that reignited the flame of anger in Calum, mixed with the feeling of Aspen clenching around him, and Calum pulled his fingers out right before she could reach her finish. Aspen instantly pulled away from the kiss with a dissatisfied grunt, head against the wall as she opened her eyes, hooded and hazy and a darker shade of the emerald green Calum was—is?—in love with. “What the fuck, Ca—”
He contained his breathing, didn’t want to show he felt just as breathless as she did, didn’t want to show this was affecting him just as much as it was her. “Isn’t fun bein’ left high’n’dry, is it?” Aspen let out a sharp breath, eyes narrowing slightly, and Calum smirked ever slightly before his right hand grabbed her jaw, fingers against the line of it, touch not at all gentle, middle and index fingers coated in her pressing against her lips. “Open.”
She didn’t, though her body shuddered at his demand, instead keeping her mouth closed and eyes narrowed in a lust-laden glare, not one to take orders from him, and Calum pursed his lips and pressed his hips to hers, jaw clenching when his hardened cock pressed against her thigh, wanting nothing more than to take her right there. But the harsh pressure of his hips against hers had Aspen gasping slightly and Calum took the opportunity to slide his two fingers into her mouth, watching in wicked satisfaction as he felt her suck and lick them clean, cheeks slightly hallowed, tasting herself, and at this point Calum needed to get rid of his own jeans. Quickly.
Calum made quick work of ridding Aspen of her jeans, tugging them down and letting her step out of them before his hands found her thighs and he effortlessly picked her up, her legs hooking around his hips and lips finding his in yet another impassioned, heated kiss that made them both dizzy with lust and familiarity. Their lips worked together perfectly as Calum led them towards Aspen’s bedroom. He knew it was next to Luna’s, was able to lead them there blindly as he was too busy reveling in the taste of Aspen’s lips and her hands in her hair, and knew from memory of when he walked by her open room where her bed was.
He kicked the door shut, hands digging into the flesh of her thighs and rings gloriously biting into her skin as he reached the bed and, without warning, dropped Aspen onto the mattress. She let out a startled gasp, eyes slightly widened in surprise as she stared up at him, the sight of her kiss swollen lips knotting up Calum’s stomach wonderfully as he pulled his jacket off and let it drop on the ground. His eyes never left Aspen’s, his attention on the woman he’s yearned after for years, ignoring every bit of logic and rational thought in his head as he reached a hand over to his back and pulled off the shirt he wore.
Ignoring the cool sensation of his necklaces against his collarbone and chest, Calum stood at the foot of the bed, expertly barefoot, and swiftly grabbed hold of Aspen’s thighs once more and pulled her towards him like nothing. There was nothing gentle about this, about the way they kissed and grabbed and looked at each other. Everything was urgent, fiery, fierce; a mixture of realizing they were still so familiar with each other while fueled by the rage of not having one another for so long. And as well as, in Calum’s case, not knowing what the fuck he was working out of; rage, lust, discarded love, or a dangerous mixture of all three.
Aspen’s gaze wandered to Calum’s shirtless upper half, feeling her heart jump and throat dry at the sight in front of her. He was just as gorgeous as she remembered; though, this time, with more tattoos and bigger biceps and a V-line at his hips she felt the animalistic desire to mark. His curls were untamed from her fingers and the shirt he’d pulled over his head, full lips appearing more plump from the frantic kisses they exchanged.
How could he have possibly gotten more gorgeous? How could she have forced herself not to notice before?
“Stop lookin’ at me like that,” Calum sounded gruffly, hands cupping her jaw to pull her up, making Aspen sit on her knees as his lips came down on hers in a primal sucking kiss. It made Aspen’s toes curls.
“Like what?” she gasped against his mouth, fingers blindly yet expertly working on his belt, sliding it through the loops once the buckle unclicked.
Calum bit down on her lower lip as the belt clattered to the ground and Aspen worked on unbuttoning his jeans. “Like you don’t fuckin’ hate me.”
Aspen pushed his jeans down as her heart jumped into her throat at his words. Why would she ever look at him like that? Truth be told, she had no reason to look at him like that. She tried to ignore the fact that while he did, he wasn’t able to. Her hands slid up the length of his body as Calum clicked away his jeans, a tenth pitched through his black boxers as his lips left scorching, biting kisses down Aspen’s neck. “I don’t hate you,” she gasped breathily in a daze of lust and longing, her nails scraping along his bronze skin as her hands found his hair once more. Calum hoped she left marks. “But if you hate me, that’s okay.” Aspen’s eyes closed, eyebrows drawing together pleasurably when he bit at her sensitive spot, finding the will to push through her cloud of lust and shakily breathe out, “Fuck me like you hate me. What the hell are you waiting for?”
Her words spurred him on, his hands grasping the front of her blouse and pulling it apart, uncaring for the buttons that ripped off and clattered to the floor, the air slapping against Aspen’s skin as Calum pulled the shirt off, her bra following soon after. His movements were quick and purposeful, an effect of the adrenaline pumping in with the raging hot blood in his veins. Calum’s hand slid up her front, hand warm and rings cold against her skin, until he grasped the front of her throat, applying just the right amount of pressure in the right places as he maneuvered them back so Aspen was laying on the bed, him hovering over her, lips begging to be kissed and skin yearning to be touched.
The sight of her below him, his tattooed and ring clad hand around her throat as her dark hair fanned under her and green eyes darkened with want and desire and everything in between had Calum’s heart racing. He’d fucking missed this—missed her like this. He didn’t even try to make sense of the lingering disbelief that this was fucking happening.
And before his rational side won, before he could think about it anymore, Calum accepted the condom Aspen had hastily dug out from the bedside drawer after reaching over for it. There was no—more—foreplay, no teasing or anything of the sort. Their movements were rushed and not without reason, lost in each other when Calum’s lips met hers once more after pulling off his boxers and hissing when his cock was freed.
He sank into her, and both of them wondered if it was just them feeling as though they were home.
                                                             *****
There was a silence upon them, interrupted only by their soft, steadfast breathing. Aspen wasn’t quite sure what to make of the energy in the room, wasn’t sure if it was derived from tension, awkwardness or even bliss or satisfaction. A mixture of all four? Her mind was reeling, thoughts catching up with reality as realization dawned and she understood what the hell had just happened. Surprisingly, regret wasn’t the first thing she felt; it was contentment. Utter acceptance of the pleasure she had just experienced with the man next to her.
It had started off as rough, full of biting lips and tight grips and unforgiving thrusts, but something changed as they neared their end. His hips didn’t slam into hers anymore, instead rolling against hers sensually, rhymically. His grip wasn’t bruisingly hard on her, becoming tender. Aspen had noticed the changes when they occurred, and it sent her heart into more of an overdrive than it already was in. She wasn’t sure what spurred the pace, why he suddenly seemed drained of the rage that was fueling him, but she didn’t question it. Not when it still, continuously, had felt so good. How she went years without being with Calum. . . God, she had no fucking idea.
She wasn’t quite sure what was happening now, either. The silence was enveloping them, but Calum’s hand was playing with hers, brought up by their elbows as his ring clad fingers danced with hers, his hooded gaze on them. He hadn’t said anything, neither of them have, but Aspen’s body was buzzing and her her heart had yet to relax as she watched him lightly play with her fingers. It tightened her throat—he used to do it all the time after they had sex, or even when they used to just lay together on the couch. It was a simple, sweet gesture that always brought Aspen comfort, but in this moment, it was heightening the dread that was building up.
For a moment, she let herself revel in this. In the way Calum was touching her, utterly opposite of how things had been between them since they reunited, and her heart yearned, ached, for more. And for another second, Aspen let herself believe they were just two people basking in the afterglow of a round of desperate, longing sex, but it was so much more than that. It was so much more complicated.
And then Calum’s left hand moved a certain way around hers, and Aspen’s gaze caught sight of the initials tattooed on there. Suddenly reality crashed in and Aspen felt like she couldn’t breathe.
Snatching her hand away from Calum, Aspen didn’t look at his confused, taken aback expression as she hastily got up from the bed, stepping towards her closet as she pulled on a hoodie and a pair of shorts to clothe her naked form. “I need to talk to you,” she finally broke the silence, turning to look at Calum.
He was sitting up now, frowning in puzzlement as the sheets gathered at his hips. Aspen would need him to put on clothes; his smooth, tattooed skin was distracting, making her heart race and stomach lurch. Calum still seemed to be lounging in his post-sex bliss as well, moving leisurely as he picked his shirt and boxers up from the floor and slowly put them on. “About what?” he rasped, and Aspen bit her cheek. He could probably guess what.
Aspen approached the foot of the bed, unable to find it in herself to sit down. Her nerves were suddenly jittery, inaudibly swallowing nothing but air every few seconds as some kind of way to calm herself down. But she couldn’t, not with what she was about to do. “I need to—I need to tell you the truth. About why I left. About—About why I never told you about Luna.”
All of the bliss and haze that had softened Calum’s face was instantly gone upon hearing Aspen’s words, replaced with a hardening settlement of realization and seriousness, broad shoulders straightening under the dark green shirt he wore. “I can’t—” Aspen cut herself off breathlessly with a shake of her head, fingers picking at her nails as she looked at the only man she’s ever fucking loved, whose heart she broke and who she just slept with after nearly five years. “I can’t keep this to myself. Not anymore. You deserve the truth, even though I think it might hurt you more.”
Calum scoffed, standing up from the bed, muscular thighs flexing as he rounded the bed to approach her. With every step he took towards her, Aspen’s heart jumped higher up in her throat. “Don’t think anything can hurt as much as it already has, Aspen.”
She swallowed, eyebrows drawn together helplessly. “I’m not so sure about that,” she whispered, feeling the emotion tighten her throat. God, she could not cry. Aspen wasn’t sure how to tell him any of this, because frankly she was a bit afraid that he wouldn’t believe her, that she was just making something up to take some of the blame off of herself. How could he want to believe it? If anything, Aspen was fully expecting him to be furious, even more so, and was working up the wall to defend herself from his rage. Still playing with her nails, Aspen forced herself to look at Calum’s curious, expectant gaze before taking a deep breath. “I lied to you before. I didn’t—I—I found out I was pregnant before I left. Not. . . Not after.”
Confusion, surprise, hurt and anger all seemed to flash across Calum’s face, all at once, as he leaned away from her once her devastating words settled in his mind. Aspen’s heart was picking up its pace quickly, watching as Calum’s dark eyes widened under furrowed eyebrows, lips she had just kissed parting in disbelief as he failed to find any words that could possibly verbalize what he was feeling, thinking. Aspen hated to know that what she said wasn’t the end of it.
“You. . . You knew?” Calum croaked, accented voice raspy and laden with a kind of hurt that sent a pang through Aspen’s chest as she helplessly watched him look at her with a kind of betrayal she hated to see on his face. He gave a shake of his head, curls bouncing slightly. “Then why—” He cut himself off, eyes narrowing as the hostility she’d been seeing for the past few months returned his full swing, jumping to his own conclusions as he took a threatening step towards her, deep voice growling, “Did you leave because you didn’t think I’d be a good father? That I didn’t want to be a father?” The ferocity in his voice was heavy, thickening his accent. “How the fuck could you just leave without saying a bloody thing to me?!”
“Because I was fucking ran out of the Goddamn town, Calum!”
Aspen inhaled sharply after emotionally blurting out those words, taking a step away from Calum to put some distance between them, distance he had closed as he neared her with every word he spat out. Her throat was tight, watching as a small fraction of the anger twisting his handsome features melted away into confusion, face scrunching up with a few shakes of his head. “What?”
Aspen licked her lips quickly, keeping her voice steady as she said, “I don’t know how to explain thi—”
Calum snarled. “Fucking try.”
She pursed her lips, not caring for his tone but knowing that, to some extent, it was warranted. She just needed to spit it out, but what she needed to say couldn’t just spat out. “I found out when you went on that camping trip with the boys,” Aspen began with a breath, praying tears didn’t gather in her eyes as she recalled memories from years ago she fruitlessly tried to keep away. “I’d just been leaving the hospital after confirming it and I. . . I ran into your mom at the hospital.”
Calum quirked an eyebrow, not seeming surprised by this. His mother was the head of orthopedics at their local hospital, so it wasn’t abnormal for Aspen to see her there. Aspen swallowed, trying to look at anything but him. “I was by myself and I was terrified because. . . I mean, I was barely into my twenties yet and I was pregnant, and I kept thinking how you were going to react, how many family would. I was scared out of my mind and it showed and your mom saw and pulled me into her office and asked what was going on.”
Calum was full on frowning at this point, unsure of where Aspen was going with this as he stood in front of her, arms crossed over his chest as he waited impatiently for her to continue with her story. What the hell did his mum have anything to do with why Aspen left him?
“And I told her. I hadn’t told anyone else, but I told her that I was pregnant and. . . And she comforted me. Told me it would be okay, that everything would work out. And I believed her.” Despite herself, Aspen let out a humorless scoff, looking away from Calum and at nothing in particular as the memory of her and Calum’s mom, Joy, replayed in her head. “When I think about it now, I remember that she never even congratulated me, or said that she was happy.”
When Calum heard the bitter tone in Aspen’s voice, saw the grieved frown on her face, Calum felt his heart slowly coming to a stop. He was smart, intelligent, and the words Aspen was saying and the way she was saying them in. . . Calum felt a tight, uncomfortable knot tie itself in his stomach, suddenly beginning to feel the emptiness that was a prelude to nausea, his shoulders sinking somewhat as his throat dried.
“A few days later, before you got back, she asked me to come over,” Aspen continued, needing to take another breath to steady her voice even though her knees felt like they were going to give out. She frowned slightly as she remembered that day. “I didn’t know what she wanted to talk about, but. . .” Aspen swallowed, forcing her gaze to lock with Calum’s. Her heart was thundering and blood was rushing behind her ears, but Aspen willed herself to drop another bomb that she knew would rattle Calum to his bones. “But I wasn’t expecting her to offer me money to disappear.”
It was like her words had a physical force behind them, because Calum instantly stumbled a few feet back, nearly tripping over his shoes as he stared at Aspen with a look of utter incredulity, disbelief, confusion. His head was spinning as he shook it, like he wanted to get Aspen’s words out of it, feeling a heavy sense of betrayal that he couldn’t even begin to comprehend, like it was too much for him to grasp. No. She was lying. Aspen had to be lying.
“No,” Calum voiced throatily, still shaking his head, feeling his curls brush along his shoulders, face paling. “No, you’re lying. Mum would nev—”
“She offered me a million fucking dollars, Calum,” Aspen interrupted, not giving him any room to argue as she looked at him desperately. She knew this would be too much for him to understand, to believe, because to this day even Aspen couldn’t believe that happened. It still shook her, still unnerved her to think this was her reality. To think that someone would want her so badly to leave their son to throw that kind of money as if it were nothing. Calum let out a sharp breath. “She—she knew I’d never get rid of the baby, so she offered me money to leave.” Aspen spoke quickly, words coming out in a rush, wanting every bit of the truth out there before Calum told her enough. The tears were burning in her eyes now, because she never thought this day would come; never thought she’d have to look the father of her child in the eyes and tell him it was his mother’s fault he didn’t get the chance of being a dad.
“She told me you weren’t ready to be a parent, that it wouldn’t be what you wanted.” Aspen let out a breath, her throat dry but she continued, despite the look of utter devastation on Calum’s face that was shattering her heart. “And we—we’d never talked about anything like that. Never talked about a long term future and, God, Calum, I was terrified. Your mom was saying all these things how you wouldn’t be ready, how this wouldn’t be what you wanted, that I—” Her voice broke, feeling a tear slip as she shook her head tearfully. “That I wasn’t fucking good enough. And I. . . I believed her. I took her word for it and—”
“And you took the fuckin’ money and ran,” Calum finished with a snap, his expression still contorted into heartbreak and hurt, but the anger was returning in full swing, just as Aspen had expected. He ran both of his hands through his hair before throwing them out. “You should’ve fucking waited for me. You should’ve listened to what I thought because it had as much to do with me as it did with you!”
He was yelling now, deep voice loud and enough to shake the walls that Aspen knew she’d be getting a complaint from her neighbors, but she didn’t care. She stood her ground, taking in his shouts as they came. There was so much pain and ache in her chest, all derived from what happened to her then and what was happening now. “I was scared, Calum,” she tried to defend, though she knew it wasn’t too strong of an argument. “She made me believe—”
“I don’t give a fuck what she made you believe!” Calum roared, turning away from her as he once again ran his fingers through his hair, tugging at them before dropping his hands and turning to face her again. This anger was so much more intense than what he had been showing earlier, and while Aspen wasn’t afraid of Calum, she was definitely exceedingly anxious of what was unfolding in general. He pointed a ring clad finger at her with fierce accusation. “You should’ve trusted me enough to know that I would’ve wanted to have the baby with you because I fucking loved you with everything I had in me.” He put his arms down, hands slapping to his thighs as he shrugged roughly. “But you just took whatever fucking money you were offered and ran instead of telling me anything.”
There was a sting in Aspen’s nose, the one that always occurred when she cried, as she tried to swallow the lump that formed in her throat. She didn’t want Calum to yell at her, didn’t want him to be so ruthlessly angry with her, but she knew she deserved it. Knew that she was at fault, no matter what his mother did as well. She had a choice; she could’ve ran with the money or she could’ve stayed and talked to Calum. But Aspen chose the cowards way out; a decision brought by Calum’s mom’s words piling on top of pre-existing doubt that was derived from already being with Calum and knowing there was a stark difference in their worlds.
He had everything he could possibly want. She was a nursing student from a middle class family. Aspen had never been the ideal choice for Calum in his parents—or, at least, his mom’s—eyes.
And with Joy Hood reinforcing the belief that she’d never be good enough for Calum, Aspen broke. So she ran.
“What’d you do with the money, huh?” Calum sneerily demanded, eyes narrowing daringly as he approached her once more, figure domineering and near threatening as he peered down at her with hostile accusation. “Pretty sure you could’ve afforded a bigger apartment with the million dollar check you cashed.”
Aspen’s eyebrows drew together, feeling a stab of pain at his words, remembering all of the times she heard murmurs from people in Calum’s and his family’s circles whispering about her only being with him because of the money. Remembered how she’d cried to Calum about being thought of as a gold digger when the only reason she was with him was because she loved him.
“I didn’t cash the check,” she told him truthfully, hugging herself as his scent engulfed her. Her heart still yearned for him. When Calum scoffed disbelievingly, Aspen insisted, “I didn’t. I—I set up a trust, for Luna. The money’s been sitting in an account for her for when she turns eighteen. She can do whatever she wants with it; go to school, travel, whatever she wants.” Her tone dropped, almost feeble, as her gaze lowered to her folded arms, chest heavy. “Figured I’d use the hush money your mom gave to keep quiet about Luna for her.” She scoffed humorlessly, quietly. “Some kind of karma, I guess.”
“Fucking unreal.” Aspen looked up, catching sight of Calum looking away from her, fingers tangled in his curls at the top of his head. She gazed at his profile, noticing the muscle jumping in his jaw, his pursed lips, and the glassiness in his dark eyes under drawn together eyebrows. There were different emotions fighting across his face, none of them pleasant, understandably. But on Aspen noticed was most prominent—agony. Complete desolation that his own mother—the woman he loved so much, who made him the man he was today and taught him lessons he still applied to his life today—would keep his own child from him. Would deprive him of Luna, the one person he came to love most in the world.    
His heart was in pieces, and the desire to throw up was strong. God, he didn’t want to fucking believe Aspen. Wanted to scream at her for being a liar, for making up the most bullshit fucking excuse that brought him a new sort of pain he didn’t think he was capable of experiencing. Fuck. Calum thought the anguish he felt when he found out about Luna was cruel; this. . . The bomb Aspen just dropped. . . This felt unforgiving on his Goddamn soul. A kind of pain that refused to let him breathe.
Then he moved. In harsh movements and brisk strides, Calum pulled on his clothes and gathered his things, shoving his feet into his shoes before storming out of Aspen’s bedroom. She followed after him quickly, practically having to run to keep up with his long strides, her heart threatening to jump as she caught sight of the way he was tightly clenching his jacket in his fist, the veins in his tense arms popping and his shoulders squared. He walked with a purpose, and the blank look that fell across his face, save for the tight jaw, increased Aspen’s anxiety.
“Where are you going?” she pleaded, ignoring the cold against her mostly bare legs, goosebumps rising on her skin.
Calum reached the door, throwing it open and without turning to look back at her, growled out, “Need to make a fuckin’ phone call.”
Aspen jumped when the door slammed behind him. She took the few remaining steps towards it, hand on the door knob, prepared to open it and follow him because he wasn’t okay. His anger was still buzzing through her apartment, and it wasn’t until Aspen had reached for the door knob that she realized she was shaking.
So she sank to the floor, back against the door, facing the ceiling as she squeezed her eyes shut. She slept with Calum. The truth was finally out. Calum was outraged and heartbroken beyond belief. And Aspen cried.
tags: @crownedbyluke @gotta-try-something-new @rishlo @bitchinbabylon @ghstofcalum @dxmncalum @letsfxckindance @unsexilexi @calumthoodsyonce @grreatgooglymoogly @therainydays4 @sadbreakfast-club @lifeakaharry @codycasperky2 @biggestslutforcalum @complete-trash-101 @kinglyhemmings @hemmomfg @friendly-neighborhood-michelle @cxddlyash @checkeredcalum @lovelettercalum @nostalgia-luke @captain-what-is-going-on @slimthicccal @bloodytbs @miahelizaaabeth @ghostofhood @elsysoza @writing-in-riverdale @tourettesboi @angelbbycal @bbteamlove @xoforeverx @stfujace @thebodaciouscth @helplesshood @runawaywithme-xo @lietomemyvalentine @emma070900 @cosmixcalum @babygirlcashton @calumamongmen @5sos-stan4lyfe @ihatemyself21 @lipstickstainfading @crystalisinfinite @misskarynie @wrappedaroundcal @wcstethenights @michealcliffturd @akacalciumhood @clum-thomas @poppedpins @dollbitxhes @5saucewho @hearts-to-the-sky @booklove-2 @walkedhomealone @andreabjoerg @qualitylu @softboycal @early-thoughts @5saucefanfic @dher216 @all-i-want-is2b-loved-by-you @babyloniancal @xlov3quotingx @aybbblondie @rexorangecouny @flowerchild8341 @romanticalumhood @kaxseychill @babyloncalm @calistheloml @calumh-excess @egyptiangoldhood @irwinkitten @asht0ns-world @visualm3nte @xhaileyreneex @cal-pal-cuddles @invisiblexcth @soulmatecashton @gettingjillywithit @cliffordcntrl @mermaid-merrick @5secondssofssummer @cals-babylons @mysteriouslycali @sassy-asht0n @hoodcentral @cathartichaoss @inlovehoodx @gigglyirwin @roselukes @thepixiedreambitch @calumhoodless @dancingonanemptywallet @antisocialbandmate @sunnysidesblog @escap0-with-me @rosa-aurum @thewhitestbitch-u-know @rosecoloredash @biwriting @calteahood @2k17muke @theagenderwhocriedwolf @caelumhood @kinglycalum @fucking5sos @ohhmuke @ghostofch @isabella-mae13 @5secsofsomewhere @meangirlsmum @danielaaaa1997 @tupeloohoneyy @yeah-idk-why-not @sublimehood @shower-me-with-roses @hotmessmichael @xx-cuddlemecalum-xx @pauliip @jetblackyoungblood 
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roaminginspiration · 6 years ago
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The Empty Space Next to Me
chap 1 (x)  / chap 2 (x) /  chap 3 (x) / chap 4 (x) / chap 5 (x) / chap 6 (x) / chap 7 (x) / chap 9 (x) / chap 10 (x)
Chapter 8
Steve has been in Louisiana for a month. He has naturally fallen into a pleasant routine and the guesthouse has begun to feel more and more homely.
This morning he is woken up by wet kisses in his neck. Long, slobbery kisses.
He cracks his eyelids open and groans slightly, gently pushing away the affectionate lady in the bed with him.
“Riley, how did you get in?” he mumbles and the Golden Retriever’s tongue runs across his face. He chuckles and tilts his head away before propping himself up on his elbows. Riley is wagging her tail with an open mouth smile. He strokes the back of her ears and her head shakes approvingly. “You gotta stop doing that,” he says.
He sits up and Riley hops off the bed. He makes his way to the en-suite bathroom, showers and gets dressed.
When he comes down to the living room for breakfast, he finds the other two ladies in the house chatting across the table, with a mug of coffee in their hands.
Eliza and Kat greet him with a smile.
He smiles back and goes to pour himself coffee from the warm glass jar. He then sits down next to Katherine and helps himself to one of the freshly-made French toasts lying in the plate.
“Tomorrow night the Donovans are hosting their annual party and all the locals are invited,” Eliza begins.
Kat leans closer and nudges him gently with a smile. “You should come,” she says.
“Are you going?” he asks.
“Carol would resent me and take it to her grave if I didn’t,” she laughs. “It’s quite nice. It’s just people coming together and drinking a lot. This year should be even more special being the first one since the Second Snap. And you now belong to our community too, so.”
Katherine smiles. She seems enthusiastic about it.
“Then I guess I’m in,” he says.
The early evening of the party, Steve quickly stands in front of his bedroom mirror to have a look. He has put on a casual — albeit visibly more elegant— white shirt, sleeves rolled up, with dark jeans. He is a little nervous although Eliza assured him his presence would go unnoticed and that it was very unlikely any of the guests would recognize him. “They’re just a bunch of either old people with undiagnosed cataract or rubes. Or both,” she told him.
When he comes downstairs, he finds her waiting by the doorstep in a long floral dress with a light grey cardigan over her shoulders. She is wearing a necklace and has a bit of mascara.
“You look fantastic,” he tells her.
“Does it mean you are officially my plus one, then?” she jokes.
“I intended to be your plus one all along,” he answers walking up to her.
She holds her arm out and he gently slips his under to stand by her side.
Eliza smiles. She tugs her short hair behind her ear and shows her pearl earrings. “Robert bought me those to celebrate our 35th anniversary.”
Steve smiles. “A man with great taste.”
The sound of footsteps rings out upstairs. Katherine’s black high-heeled appear at the top of the staircase. Steve looks up and watches as she comes down.
She is wearing an elegant and slinky, knee-length black dress flowing gracefully. The sleeves are short and fall over her shoulders. Her red hair is down and styled in natural-looking but full waves. She goes to the coatrack and turns, revealing a slightly glamorous but elegant back cleavage. She picks a dark red shawl and throws it over her arm.
“I’m ready,” she says.
Steve can hardly speak. She looks nothing short of stunning. He has seen Natasha in evening dresses before — dresses far more fashionable and stupendous than this one — but there is something about Katherine’s simple bucolic charm that strikes him just as powerfully.
Her eyes look him up and down. “You look really elegant,” she says cordially.
He clears his throat quietly but he is sure Eliza heard it. “You too,” he says.
Katherine walks through the door and he stands motionlessly for a couple of seconds. When he normally responds again to his surroundings, he finds the woman at his arm smirking softly.
All three of them get in the Chevy and drive over to the Donovan farm. He pulls over and leaves the car among the bunch of pick-ups randomly parked along the path. The sun has barely begun to set.
Then they make the way to the big barn from which emanate strong, warm light and the distant sound of country music. The gates are held open by straw bales where a couple of men are chatting with a bottle of beer in their hands.
They walk through to a large, bright room, painted red with hay bundles and equipment at every corner. Down the room, there are large rectangular tables with food, glasses and an immense glass punch bowl almost filled to the top around which gravitate a dozen guests.
Right across there is a group of people talking loudly. Some children whiz past them, across the barn to the exit where they are still standing. Three or four couples are already dancing on the improvised dance floor which majorly consists of an old wooden floor with straws scarcely scattered.
George — the man who regularly brings in milk and cheese — and a woman come over with big smiles. They hug Eliza first, then Katherine, and shake his hand.
“Enjoy the evening. The ribs are still hot. You should go and grab some before the young Johnson stuffs them all down within ten minutes.”
George pats Steve’s shoulder warmly and goes to greet new guests.
A familiar slender figure suddenly appears behind them and cover Katherine’s eyes with their hands. She smiles and spins around, holding Jake in her arms.
“Wow,” he simply exclaims as he looks down at her. Holding her hand, he comes over to greet Eliza.
“Good to see you, too,” he says to Steve while shaking his hand. “This party is like a big event around here. Just a festive come together.”
He then turns to his girlfriend. “Oh Kate, there’s someone I wanted to introduce you to.” He turns to Eliza and Steve. “Do you mind if I steal her from you for a moment?” he asks. He then plants a kiss on her cheek and takes her away, far across the barn.
The moment lingers, drags on to become an hour. When she finally joins them again to have some nibbles, Jake eventually rolls in again and takes for a dance.
Which becomes two.
Which becomes three.
On and on.
Steve throws glances from across the barn, sitting on a bench next to Eliza who is looking at the audience with a remote calmness which resembles tame disinterest, a gentle fixed grin on the lips.
“Looks like you’ve blended in,” she says. “Fully incognito.”
“And without reading glasses,” he says with a smile. Earlier she had suggested he’d wear glasses to keep his identity crisis, as it seemed to work so well for Clark Kent.
“Since the Second Snap,” she says softly, “people have been craving a sense of normalcy. They’d do almost anything to resume their satisfying, unordinary life…even ignore the elephant in the room. They’d rather convince themselves you’re the new, vaguely familiar-looking handyman than acknowledge who you really are.”
He nods musingly.
An amused smirk tugs at her lips. “Glasses or no glasses.”
After a while, when Katherine returns, her face slightly flushed from the exhilarating dancing, the elderly woman says she is going home and asks one of the locals on his way out if can drop her off.
She presses a hand on his arm in a motherly manner. “You enjoy yourself.”
Katherine fills up her seat next to him. She casually props her forearm on his shoulder, leaning over.
“Jake has gone to get me a drink,” she says then looks at him. “By the way, why are you the soberest person in the room?” she asks.
She ostentatiously glances down at the glass of punch in his hand.
He smiles. “Super-soldier serum,” he sums up in a low voice.
She looks amazed. “I think that’s the coolest of your superpowers.” She pauses and a cute deeply concentrated expression comes on her face. “Or wait…it’s not.”
He snorts. “It’s not,” he confirms. He can vividly recall the times in his life when he would have needed some assuaging boozing but couldn’t get it.”
She pouts sympathetically. “I’m sure you won’t mind if I help myself, then,” she says as she leans in — he smells the subtle scent of her fragrance—reaches for the glass in his hand and takes it to her lips.
“You haven’t found yourself a partner yet?” she asks. She throws a look around the barn and at the many women standing alone in the barn. “I mean, I can see half a dozen women who are desperately waiting for you to invite them for a dance. Like that blonde over there.”
He follows her look and sees a charming-looking blonde standing by the exit, with a glass in her hand, eyes roaming across the room. They meet his, freeze for a second, before darting away sheepishly.
He laughs. “I don’t really do dancing,” he simply comments, putting aside the complicated history behind it.
She frowns, perplexed. She is about to ask why when Jake turns up with a bottle of beer for her. She takes a sip and curls her lip. “I think I like the punch better.”
Jake invitingly holds his hand out to her. She takes another gulp from the glass and slips it back into Steve’s hand. She gives him a smile then puts her hand into Jake’s. He pulls her up and takes her back to the dance floor.
Steve bites his bottom lip, he watches as Jake takes her by the waist and twirls her with insolent confidence. His eyes then wander across the room. Eventually, they fall on the blonde woman again. He notices she has long straight hair and light blue eyes.
She smiles at him. He glances down at the nearly empty glass of punch in his hand. He looks up again and grins.
More to himself.
She reminds him of Sharon Carter. And he realizes how much time has gone by and what a different man he has become. He is no longer that undecisive man fearful of rejection who kissed agent 13 under a bridge.
It took him to go through years of being a fugitive, failing to stop the decimation of half the Universe and living 5 years with the guilt of it, but most importantly it took him to lose the very woman who stood by his side through all those hard times to acknowledge how much he loves her; to know, without the shadow of a doubt, she is the only woman he will ever want to be with, because she has filled all the room there is in his heart — and expanded it in the process— to the point it simply has no space left for anyone.
He could watch marry and be happy with another man but that would never stop him from wanting to be with her. He would literally wait a lifetime until the two of them have become so old they can barely stand and if she asked if she could sit by his side and hold his hand for the little time they have left, she would find the empty space next to him, kept vacant just for her.
If the Universe has decided that he could never have Natasha — or Katherine — in this lifetime, in this reality, then he would wait until the next one.
The blonde woman takes his grin as an invitation and walks over to him.
_____________________________
Katherine and Jake stand still as the band, composed of known members of the community, are taking a short break to have a sip. She runs her hand through her hair and instinctively turns, looking for Steve.
She finds him standing by the punch bowl, chatting with the very blonde she pointed to him. Her beaming smile fades, almost turns dull. She freezes, thrown off by a sight — and emotion— she did not expect.
Standing behind her, Jake glances over her shoulder, following her gaze. He smiles satisfyingly. “Looks like he’s found some company.”
Katherine drags her gaze away and turns to her boyfriend. “Yeah. Good for him.”
The band resumes playing, hitting the first notes of slow-paced music. Jake takes her in his arms and both start slow dancing like the many couples around them. She presses the side of her face against his arm and her eyes flicker to the buffet table a few times.
At the end of the evening, when over half of the guests have headed back home, Katherine calls it a night. Steve politely says goodbye to the woman who kept him company, Lorna.
He grabs Katherine’s shawl from the bench and she comes to collect it, draping it over her shoulders.
Jake has had one too many drinks and obviously leaves it to Steve to drive her back home.
“Do you want me to come with you?” he asks,
“Just let Tom take you home. Steve and I will be fine.”
She kisses him on the cheek then glances at Steve. They walk to the exit together, say George and Carol goodnight before heading back to the Chevy.
They are driving back home, down a long and quiet rural road, with nothing but the car lights cast over the black asphalt. She leans over to turn the radio on and some soft music begins playing in the background.
“You had a good evening?” she asks.
“It was nice,” he answers.
She lays her head back on the headrest, she watches him musingly as he gently steers the old wheel.
“You didn’t dance. I’m sure the girl you talked to wanted to dance.”
He smiles. “It’s complicated.”
She tilts her head, gazing at him. “Try me,” she says softly.
“In the 1940s, I met someone. We thought we were each other’s right partner and we thought we would finally have our dance when the war is over. But things turned out differently — I never saw the end of the war — and we didn’t have our dance.”
Her features have turned stern. “So, you’re still waiting on the right partner?” she asks.
He snorts softly. “I’m way past that kind of sentimentalism. I just don’t know how to dance and I’d find it awkward to have my first time with a complete stranger.”
Kat frowns. “And I never danced with you? Cold,” she comments.
He smiles, eyes on the road, then glances at her. “Well in your defense I’d never told you about this before…until now.”
She eyes him intently, surprised by this unadulterated and selfless blast of honesty. They drive in silence for a short while as she pensively bites her thumb.
“Pull over,” she suddenly says.
He shoots her a quizzical look. “Pull over,” she repeats.
He does as she asks and pulls over on the side of the road. He turns to look at her but she has already opened the door on her side and stepped out of the car. Still holding the wheel, he watches her walk around the Chevy, in front of the bright lights, to his side of the car.
“Let’s have that dance,” she says.
He puffs. “It’s fine, Kat. The last thing I want is some pity dance. You don’t owe me anything just because I shared that old story with you.”
She arches an eyebrow and probes him. She then leans and lays her arms over the edge of his window door.
“I never do anything out of pity,” she affirms resolutely. “I want to have a dance with you, Rogers. But knowing that I will be your first is an honor.”
He leans his head back on the headrest and smiles. “You seriously want to have a dance here, in the middle of the road? Somebody could see us…or even get run by a car.”
“You know you are quite fearful for a hero,” she teases.
“Comes with the job.”
A beguiling smirk tugs at her lips. “Too shy or too scared?” she purrs.
He nervously taps his fingers on the wheel. It hits him he has never indulged himself to any kind of fanciful whim, because he was an Avenger with responsibilities and the weight of the world over his shoulders. But here, in Louisiana, he is just Steve — a normal man having a normal life. And right now, he is a lucky man invited for a dance by the most stunning woman at the party.
He reaches for the handle. The clicking sound makes her smile triumphantly and she takes a step back to let him out. He leaves the door wide open and the slow music on the radio resounds a little louder.
Her fingers pinch the shawl hanging along her arms and with a pull, makes it slowly slip off of her. She then puts it on the hood of the car and steps back to stand in the middle of the road.
It is a starry sky, a long straight road with nothing but grass and trees for as far as the eye can see.
He suddenly feels very nervous at the prospect of getting so close physically. He walks up to her while she waits like a wild bird that lets someone come near. He lifts her hand and her fingers gently grasp his hand and she pulls him toward her. He puts his hands on her waist while she rests hers on his arms and slowly, very naturally, they sway to the music. He is amazed by how easy it is — how obvious. His palms wrap up closer around her waist as the music guides him along. Then he pulls away, raises his arm and twirls her; she turns around with a smile then steps back toward him as they both swirl together, his arm clutched around her and her hand brushing up his shoulder before nestling at the nape of his neck.
They smile. He wonders if she feels what he is feeling, the sheer bliss born from their effortless harmony.
The moment seems to last forever and yet the song hits the last note. They dance on a little longer, finding a melody in their impeccable synchronized pace. Eventually, they stand still, right there and then in the middle of this country road, staring into each other’s eyes.  
She bites her bottom lip and slowly pulls her hand away from the base of his hair; he lets go of her waist, too.
After a pause as she seems to try and read him, she smiles. “Thank you for this last dance,” she murmurs. She slowly steps out of his vicinity, back to the car.
She picks up her shawl on the way back to her seat.
________________________________
The following day goes normally with no mention of the midnight dance. They chat about the party over breakfast with Eliza before resuming their respective work.
A couple of days later, Steve is sitting at the living room table, calculating the spending for finishing the flooring. He hears what he assumes is Jake’s car pull over as he came earlier to take Katherine out for dinner. Loud voices echo from the distance. He hears fast footsteps go up to the porch, followed by others.
“I try, I really do. But you gotta give me something,” he hears Jake’s voice exclaim helplessly.
He catches sight of her silhouette standing on the porch. “Go home, Jake!” she shouts.
His shadow is cast over the shadow. A sigh echoes and his shadow disappears. A moment later, the engine of the car is on again and the car is driving away.
Katherine comes into the house. She takes off her denim jacket and lays it over her arm with a sullen expression. She is headed towards the stairs when she sees him.
She freezes. She doesn’t seem upset he heard them. She walks over to the kitchen.
“I need a drink,” she says apathetically as she goes around the kitchen, opens the top cabinet and takes out a bottle and two glasses. He takes the second glass as an invitation to stay.
She comes back to the table, slides one of the glasses toward him, flips around the chair in front of her and straddles it. She opens the bottle and fills their glasses.
She raises a toast and drinks it up, shutting her eyelids tight as the strong liquor travels down her throat. She pours herself another glass while his is still wrapped in his loose hand.
“Want to talk about it?” he ventures.
Her fingertips are massaging her temple, elbow propped on the table.
“No. Maybe,” she says, staring into her glass. “Jake is a good guy — he’s a great guy, actually — but it’s apparently not that simple to date someone with amnesia.”
He nods, listening closely and focused.
“Every relationship needs time,” he says. “Each grows and blossoms at their own pace.”
She smirks an ironic, tainted with some sadness.
“Did it take time for us?” she ponders aloud. Her eyes heavily turn in his direction. “I mean, you’ve made it look so easy and obvious since you got here.”
He snorts quietly. “Yeah, it took a little while.”
Her thumb goes to her bottom lip, pinching it lightly. She glances around the room, looking both hesitant and decisive. Her eyes finally dart back to him.
“Were we lovers?” she asks grimly.
The question takes him by surprise.
“No,” he answers with a similar stern and collected expression.
“Did you want to?” she continues.
He feels a lump in his throat and his heart is racing but he does not lose his composure.
Sitting here before him with this somber look and a disappointed heart, all he sees with certainty is how much he loves her.
“Yes.”
The word slips out of his lips with astonishing ease, releasing the burden of a secret he had kept for so long. He’s afraid it might put her off, frighten her, make her flap her wings and fly away.
Katherine’s face is unfathomable, still and expressionless.
“Did you think I wanted to?” she asks with similar aplomb, imperturbable.
He reminisces their many conversations, their banters infused with innocent but deliberate flirting, the unmissable intimacy between them in a busy room, her complete loyalty to him beyond professional bounds and logic, her wistful expression whenever she caught him looking at the compass.
“Yes,” he says softly.
She stares at him intently, stunned, then her expression finally cracks. She glances away. When she looks back at him, it seems her green eyes are covered with a fine gleaming screen. Her lips part a little, and a for a brief second, not a sound can come out.
“Then why weren’t we?” she murmurs, bemused.
He has asked himself the same question many times — even more so during the four months he lost her. His gaze mirrors hers, with a sorrow far more profound as it carries years of fond memories and unfulfilled desires.
“Because you and I, we put others before ourselves.”
And there is an immediate understanding between them. Wordless and fated.
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I’m so glad you’re back - chapter 4
chapter 1  Chapter 2  Chapter 3  Chapter 5  Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8  Chapter 9  Chapter 10  Chapter 11  Chapter 12  Chapter 13  Chapter 14  Chapter 15  Epilogue
5 Years after the snap....
“So how's space guys?” Natasha asked her team.
Today was the day of their scheduled call in the common room. They managed to upkeep it every earthly 2 weeks. The woman with now red and blonde ombre hair stood in the kitchen, cutting up two plates of peanut butter sandwiches, Natasha was always glad to have these calls with her friends. It was a nice change to talk to adults for a while, and not talk about the cartoons on the TV.
A lot had changed over the past 5 years. Natasha’s hair had grown longer, but the blonde still remained on the ends. She had also had her son, James. And he was the light of her life, Natasha couldn't imagine how she would have coped if she didn't have James. He was so energetic and sometimes untamable, but she loved it. She blamed his energy on steve, there was no doubt James had received his dad's serum. Natasha was sure James had her serum too but steves was always stronger.
James would ask about Steve all the time, and Natasha was more than happy to tell her son about his father. She told him about how they were heroes and fought aliens and bad guys and help to save the world, and she also told him about the snap. She made her stories a lot simpler as not to upset her son or scare him but he knew that they had not won when Thanos came and that his father had been one of the people that disappeared too. But more importantly, she told James about how much of a good person his father was. And that Steve was sweet and would help anyone he could without a second thought. She also told James about how his father was the first person to ever tell her he loved her. Ever since she told James about that the little blonde boy always made sure to tell his mom that he loved her and his dad, even though he hadn't met him.
Tony and Pepper finally had their daughter a few months after she had James, they named her morgan and only lived 30 minutes away so they could see each other as much as they wanted, and so their kids could always play together. Carol, nebula, and rocket were still in space, they visited every now and then but they had their missions. Rhodey finished helping the governments after the snap and was now helping the people. Going to countries to do the best he could to help.
Thor was still in Norway, taking care of his people, Natasha made sure to call him every week to keep in touch. She always made sure to ask him about how he was feeling and what he was doing. I guess you could say it was her maternal instinct, once she had James she became very protective of her son and also her friends. Especially Thor. And Okoye was still in Wakanda since their king and princess were victims of the snap, their mother was now queen and Okoye, loyal to the throne and Wakanda stayed to be with her queen and country.
“Space is fine on our end of it. What about you 'haircut'?.” rocket replied. He and nebula still hadn't had any new leads about anything that could help get their friends back, they hadn't had any new leads in months actually.
Carol smirked back at rockets new little nickname for her.
“Space is good near me too, people are still trying to move on and carry on with their lives, it's hard but they are getting there.”
“Okay good, that's good. It's good to know that people out there are doing okay.” Natasha smiled back at her friends.
“Right, well, I guess I'll let you guys get back to space then” once her space team logged off it was just her and Rhodey on the holograms. She finished cutting the sandwiches and brought them over to the table, almost avoiding Rhodey's eyes.
“Nat” he called over.
“Yeah” she knew what he wanted to talk about and the retired spy tried to hide her tears as she looked at one of her oldest friends.
“Something happened in China last night.”
Sitting down she closed her eyes, listening to his words.
“I don't know if it was him but they killed over two dozen people, some of them innocent.”
At that she let her tears fall. Her best friend. They found out he was alive a few years ago. They caught him on surveillance by chance. Ever since then Natasha had Rhodey and Friday looking for anything they could to locate Clint. The former archer had been on a killing spree they believed. In grief at losing his family. But every time they thought they found Clint, he was already gone, leaving a trail of bodies behind him.
“Thanks for letting me know, really. If anything else pops up, anything Rhodey. Let me know?”
“Of course. Now make sure you're taking care of yourself nat, and Tell my nephew I said hi.”
Smiling and Nodding back at Rhodey, he logged off the chat. His hologram fading away.
Sighing, Natasha sank back into the chair and closed her eyes. Silently praying for her friend. She just wanted to see Clint, she just wanted him to come home. If she could do anything to help him she would.
“Mommy!”
Snapping her eyes open and shooting her head up at the sound of her son calling her, Natasha immediately sees her son, James, running straight to her. Before she can even stand up he's already climbing onto her lap and wrapping his small arm around her in a hug.
Smiling she hugs him back out of instinct.
“Hey baby, you finished playing in your room?” pulling back from their hug she secured her son in her lap buy wrapping her left arm around his back, keeping him close to her.
“Yep! I drew you a picture!” raising her eyebrows, she acts surprised, even though she has come to expect this every time he plays in his room. Their refrigerator and the walls are covered in his drawings.
“You did? How sweet of you. Can I see it?” shaking his head vigorously the young boy refuses.
“Nope, not yet, I need to finish it first. Did you speak to my aunties and uncles?”
Changing the conversation very quick, the blonde 4-year-old, asked about her friends. He knew by now that they talked every other week and he was always excited to see them but Natasha didn't normally let him stay when they discussed work, considering the things they talked about, she didn't think her son should be hearing it. But every now and then he'd welcome himself into the room to say hi to his family, and everyone else was always more than happy to see him too.
“Yeah I did, they all miss you baby, and your uncle Rhodey asked me to make sure you knew he said hi”
“Are they gonna come visit us soon? I miss them.” James' shoulder starts to sink into himself, obviously shy about asking. He knew they were busy being heroes but he missed them so much he just wanted to see them all again and play.
“I dunno Jamie, your auntie carol's really far away in space helping people, and so are Rocket and auntie Neb. I could give your uncle thor a call if you want?” Natasha knew to mention Thor was always a good idea to cheer James up. Thor loved James and James absolutely adored thor. She was sure it was just because when Thor sat the young boy on his shoulders he could be really tall. Natasha made it a habit to talk to Thor all the time. Even after all these years she still had that maternal instinct to take care of her boys. After James was born, he always promised to visit her and James as often as he could and he did.
“Uncle Thor?! Yeah yeah yeah!!” his ears perking up, James's shy look turned into one of excitement. Smiling at the look of cheerfulness on her son's face, Natasha pulls him a bit closer into her side to hold him and stroked his blonde hair out of his face.
“Okay okay, but I'll have to call him tomorrow okay? It's night time where uncle Thor is right now. But I'll make sure to ask everyone when they're coming to see you next time we call okay?”
“Okay mommy, its okay though, I love my aunties and uncles but I love you the most.”
He was so much like his father it amazed her. Her James's little heart filled with nothing but love. Raising her posture, Natasha kissed the top of her sons head.
“I love you too baby. Right, time for lunch, get those peanut butter sandwiches down you.” Natasha said to her son. Standing herself up on her feet with her son in her arms, she put him down to let him run around the table to grab his plate and sit across from her. After getting a few bites down from both of them, an alert for the security system at the door sounded.
The mother automatically swiped the holographic alert and opened the live footage from the gate without even looking at it, assuming it was probably tony.
“Hey, guys it's me! It's Scott! We met a few years back in Germany! Can you let me in?”
Natasha's face dropped instantly, her mouth falling open and her eyes widening at the footage. Standing up the spy gawked at the man on the holographic screen.
“No, it can't be” he was supposed to be dead, he was a victim of the snap.
“Mommy who is that?” James asked. His little voice was curious. Shifting her head to look at her son, Natasha replied.
“His names Scott Jamie, it's okay he's one of us.”
Rushing out of the room, Natasha runs down the corridor to make her way to the front door. She couldn't help but notice the softer sound of little footsteps following her. Arriving at the entrance of the compound, Natasha uses the passcode to open the door.
Moving a few inches, Natasha pushes the door fully open until she could see the full length of the presumed dead man in front of her.
….
“So it's really been 5 years?” Scott questioned Natasha. He still couldn't believe it, even when he saw Cassie all grown up. She had explained what happened all those years ago but it was still hard to believe that this had actually happened
“Yup. “
Scott, Natasha, and James were all back inside the common room now. Once Scott had sat down Natasha instantly offered him the rest of her sandwich, which he gladly accepted.
“And half the population of the universe is dea- gone?” Scott minded his words, remembering the presence of a kid in the room.
“Uh huh”
“Tony Stark had a kid?”
“Yeah”
“And you had a kid with Captain America.”
Tensing at Scott's question, Natasha averts her eyes from him for a second and shifted them over to her son, who was sat on the end of the table, also eating his own sandwiches. It wouldn't matter how many years had gone by, it still hurt to think about him being gone. God, she missed him. Returning her eyes and leaning forward on the table she answered his question.
“Yes”
“Okay.”
Taken aback, Natasha's mouth fell slightly open and her eyebrows raised.
“Okay? That's it? Scott, you've just come back after 5 years to find out half the people you know are gone. And your just, okay?”
When you put it like that it does kinda sound stupid. He thought
“I'll be fine. But There's something you need to know.”
Putting the rest of the sandwich down on the plate, Scott's face falls into a serious look. Natasha was almost worried, in the short time she knew Scott she didn't think him to be someone so serious at all times. But right now. She'd never seen this look on his face before.
“I was trapped in the quantum realm for all this time.”
“Yeah, you said. How did you even cope or survive that for years?” The redhead's eyes softened slightly as she questioned him. In some way, she felt herself relating to him for once. In Her childhood she had been captive in the red room, he had been stuck somewhere no one could find him till now.
“Yeah but that's the thing it didn't feel like years, it felt like hours. You lived through 5 years. To me, it felt like 5 hours.”
Natasha searched the man's face to see if he was telling the truth.
He was.
Tearing her eyes away from Scott, Natasha turned her head to her left to look at her son. Pushing her chair back and standing up, she made her way over to James just as he was finishing his lunch. Scott watched as she walked in the other direction, she was probably going to ask James to leave whilst they talked. he would have done the same with Cassie. Once she arrived at her son's seat, Natasha bent down so that she was on the same level as James and then she raised her hand and stroked the little strands of blonde hair out of his eyes.
“Jamie, mommy needs to talk to Scott alone for a few minutes, can you go play in your room for me?” The mother used her sweetest voice as she talked to her child. She didn't want to worry him or make him upset.
Hearing the request of his mother, James's shoulders sagged slightly, of course, she knew he didn't want to leave. But if Scott was implying what she thought he was, she didn't want James to hear it.
“But mooooom.” The blonde boy's little voice called out.
“wait, I almost forgot. Why don't you go draw a picture for Scott instead? I know you want to and I know that Scott would love a picture, right?” Natasha turned her head to Scott and gave him a look that told him to agree.
“Yeah James, I'd love a drawing!” Scott replied back to the little boy enthusiastically. Scott instantly knew Natasha's idea, he used to do it with Cassie. Thinking about her made his heartache. He couldn't believe he missed another 5 years of her life.
Gasping and his little green eyes widening, James was suddenly full of energy.
“Okay mommy, I'll draw you a picture now Scott!” jumping down from his seat on the chair, James practically sprinted down the room and into the corridor, making his way to his room.
Natasha watched as James rounded the corner to run down to go draw Scott's picture. Once he ran out of view, Natasha turned back around to Scott, her face turning into one of seriousness. Barely even speaking Natasha's voice caught in her throat.
“5 hours for you? How is that possible?”
“It's the quantum realm, time moves differently there. It has time vortexes. Before I jumped I was warned not to get stuck in one because I could end up in a different century. But I guess before I could get out Thanos had already destroyed half the universe.”
Pausing for a second, Scott thought about hope. She was one of the victims of the snap. He knew that now. Taking a deep breath he carried on speaking to the Avengers.
“I guess what I'm trying to say is that I have an idea. If we could somehow use the quantum realm and the suit to travel through it safely, then maybe we could use the time vortex’s too.”
“Are you seriously saying what I think you're saying? “
Averting his eyes at the awkwardness of the conversation Scott thought about his answer first, he didn't want to sound crazy!
“Time travel?” He nearly cringed when he said those words. Not wanting to see the look on Natasha's face.
“Oh god, Scott, it can't be possible, can it?” She couldn't believe it, but deep inside there was a glimmer of hope bubbling. Maybe this was it? Maybe they could actually get everyone back?
“Natasha it was 5 hours for me. It's been 5 years for you. I don't think anything is impossible anymore. “
Pacing on the spot, Natasha nibbled at her fingernails as she listened to Scott's words. He was right. She couldn't be naive to think it was impossible. She’s faced impossible every day since Loki invaded new york. She faced it when she fell in love with Steve and he loved her back. She faced it when Thanos came and destroyed half the universe. And she has faced it every day for the last 5 years as she watched her and steve's child grow into a little boy with the purest heart she could imagine.
Sighing, Natasha stopped pacing and faced Scott, standing tall.
“Okay, maybe this could work. But we need a brain to figure this out. A bigger brain than ours. I'm smart, but not that smart.”
After talking and agreeing with Scott, he and Natasha made a plan of action.
They decided they needed tony’s help if anyone could build what they needed it would be her closest. Natasha made her way back to her son's room to help him get ready to leave. Fortunately for James, he had finished Scotts drawing so after getting his shoes and coat on, he gifted the drawing to Scott who made sure that James knew he loved it. After getting James buckled in the car, Natasha thanked Scott for entertaining her young son, but Scott said he didn't mind, it reminded him of when he used to do it with Cassie.
“I'm sorry about Cassie Scott. But all we can do it be grateful your back. Now you have the rest of your life to make up for those missing years. And I'm more than sure she's happy to have you back, no matter when it was you came back.” Natasha placed her hand on her friend's shoulder as a show of comfort. She knew what I was like to lose Steve and god it hurt like hell, but she could never imagine loosing James.
“Your right, I know you're right. It just hurts. I did everything I could to see her and be a better father back then. And when I finally did that, I missed time with her again. But it's like you said, we should be grateful that I came back.”
Finishing their conversation, both superheroes got inside the car to join James and set off to go to Tony’s house.
As she pulled up, she could already see tony stood outside near the lake holding Morgan in his arms. Before she could even get her own seatbelt off, James had already undone his in a hurry and jumped out the car, running and shouting excitedly for his best friend.
Noticing his nephew running towards them, Tony smiled at the young boy and bent down to put Morgan back on the ground, letting her run off to play with her best friend.
Eyeing up Natasha as she got out the car, he took a few steps close to her when he noticed she had a serious look on her face, almost desperate maybe. Furrowing his brows for a second, the genius worried about why she was here, she normally called to let him know beforehand.
It wasn't until the passenger door opened that Tony understood why she looked so strange.
Scott Lang.
Tony's face hardened in confusion and disbelief as his eyes stayed glued to the man in front of him.
“Hey Tony.” the former spy breathed out. making her way towards her friend, Scott follows a few steps behind
“Hey yourself. Wanna explain?” He sounded dumbfounded. To tony, he was seeing a dead man right in front of his eyes.
“It's complicated, but I was in the quantum realm when you guys fought Thanos 5 years ago. My girlf- hope and her family were up here when I was down there. All three of them were killed when Thanos decimated half the universe leaving me stuck down there. For you guys its been 5 years. For me. 5 hours.
The genius face dropped.
“5 hours? What are you trying to say lang?” he already knew what Scott was talking about. He just needed to hear it for him.
“I'm trying to tell that time works differently down there. And we can use it to our advantage.”
“Tony, we could get everyone back. “ Natasha interrupted. Shifting his gaze to his best friend, Tony looked sceptical.
“Look I know you're probably hesitant to believe in this but it could work. I know it works. We just need to control it. And we need you to help us.”
As Scott talked, Tony never tore his eyes away from Natasha. Watching her face. He knew she missed Steve, she missed him more and more as each day went past. She would do anything to get him back. To get their friends back. And so would he. God, what he wouldn't do to get Peter back. To see his friends again. But this. Time travel. Tony didn't even think it could be done in the first place, never mind in the next few days.
“And what about if we did it? What if we managed to time travel, did you even think about what would happen, what damage we could do? If we went back and changed something it could affect our lives now. And that's not a risk I'm gonna take. I'm sorry Tasha. But I can't do something that would risk my daughter not even existing.”
Natasha understood his concerns, of course, she did. Taking a few strides forward so she was closer to Tony, Natasha looked up at her friend and spoke.
“I understand tony, I do. Believe me. But if we have a chance to bring half the universe back, we should take it. We don't have to do anything that could risk us losing what we have now. But we could finally get them back.”
“Nat. I'm sorry but no. I can't. We don't even know if we can control it or if it'll even work. I'm sorry.”
Lowering her gaze, Natasha blinks in defeat. Sighing a little, she nods her head at him. Accepting his answer.
“It's okay, you don't have anything to be sorry for Tony. I understand,” she replies, flashing him a slight smile.
Giving a quick glance over his shoulder at the two kids in Morgan's outside play area, Tony voices his idea.
“Hey, why don't you let James stay over for the night. I can just feel the two of them itching for a sleepover and they are probably 2 minutes off asking themselves anyway.”
“Your probably right” Natasha let out a huff of a laugh at his words, he wasn't wrong.
“Sure, why not? he always loves staying over.”
“I know, I'm his favorite uncle that's why.” Tony winked at her. He was totally James's favorite uncle.
“Oh, you really think so? I dunno, by the way James talks about thor you might have some competition there.” Natasha couldn't help but smirk at Tony's face when she told him that. Turning her head and body slightly towards the children Natasha called out for her son.
“Jamie, come here baby.” Hearing the sound of his mother's voice calling him, James comes running over, almost crashing into her legs. Bending over slightly so they were near enough eye to eye, Natasha asked her son with her sweet voice.
“Uncle Tony was wondering if you'd want to have a sleepover tonight so you can stay and play with morgan, how does that sound?”
James’s little face lit up like a tree at Christmas. He started to jump up and down to giddy to contain his excitement.
“Yes yes yes!!”
Smiling at her son, she picked him up and balanced him on her hip, giving him a tight squeeze.
“Okay, you promise to be good for uncle Tony and auntie pepper?”
“Yes mommy, I promise!” James nodded his head, his blonde hair shaking about.
He loved staying at Morgan's house for sleepovers, it took ages to get him back into the car to come home when they visited for a few hours.
“That's my good boy” the redhead placed a little kiss on his forehead then put him down again on the ground.
“Thank you auntie nat!” This time it was her niece shouting out to her and running over to hug her legs along with James. Thanking her for letting her best friend stay over. Once the two children had finished keeping her legs hostage, she pulled her down to give her a hug and said bye, and then they ran back over to Morgan's play area to finish whatever game it was they were playing.
She was about to open her mouth to speak to Tony but before she could, Tony beat her to it first, knowing exactly what she was going to say.
“Don't worry nat, we've got everything he needs remember, you know a few pairs of PJs and clothes. Don't worry.” the genius reassured her, he knew she would be a bit worried, she always was. James was her only child. Her and steve's child. He was her life.
Giving one last glance at her son as he played with her niece, Natasha lets out a breath, she felt bad, she knew Tony had said no but she wasn't going to give up so easily. Natasha nodded at Tony.
Moving closer to bring her into a hug, the two Avengers embraced for a few seconds before pulling back.
“I'll bring him over tomorrow yeah?”
Nodding at his words, Natasha moved away from tony to walk back to her car along with Scott.
“Yeah, see you tomorrow tony.”
Getting into the car, Both her and Scott start to leave, driving away from the house.
After a few minutes of discussing what they should do next. They decide if Tony won't help them they need to ask someone else. Someone else with a giant brain. Literally.
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fakesurprise · 5 years ago
Text
One Jaysome Day: 8 am
8 am: The Wandering Magician
(7 am can be found here.)
My phone rings as I’m finishing breakfast, the tone harsh and discordant. I finish a gulp of coffee, take a moment to focus magic. Need. Will. Desire. In the kitchen of the cafe, the ancient stove shudders a little as gears grind together smoothly. I snag the point of breaking in it and transfer it to a car down the road before its breaks can fail sooner rather than later.
“Hello?” I say.
“Magician.” Charlie sounds tense. Not often a surprise; adventuring with Jay can do that.
“I am making my way toward all of you.”
“You have to do is faster.”
“I have to?”
“Anya and Noah booked it last night. Flight. Without telling.”
“Ah.”
“Jay of course thinks they are having an adventure. Which they are. But he may try to join them, and sooner rather than later. I knew they needed a break. I missed how bad it was getting. I don’t know what they might do, if Jay shows up to say hi. If he understands why they left –.”
“He never does,” I say softly. I once rendered Jay blind for almost a year, drawing power recklessly from him to stop a threat. I couldn’t stay with him and Charlie after that. She lasted six months before I had to return, and Jay was angry that I’d left. Because he forgave me, and everything was okay.
Things can be terrifyingly simple, for Jay.
And trying to complicate that is always more terrifying.
“I don’t know what to do,” Charlie says, as softly. And hangs up the phone, out of words to say.
There are laws, with magic. You can shape the prose of the world with poetry, but only to a point. And everything the magic gives is paid for. Every word, every line. If you have access to vehicles, you can step through doors to other places. Not normally.
But magic is will, is desire, is need and dreams all rolled into one. And Charlie’s need calls, a fierce desperation she hides even from herself.
I finish my coffee, leave a tip and walk into the bathroom unseen with duffel bag in one hand. The door opens to the motel Charlie is at. I walk through, closing it behind me and knock on the door.
She opens it, freezes. “That fast?” she asks slowly knowing something of what magic costs.
“I have been – trying to learn why I spend to many months letting the magic run my body. What I – we – have been paying for in the future. I still don’t know what it is; I was hoping to find the answer. I worry that I have,” I admit.
“Jay,” Charlie says.
“Hi! I made some new friends this morning and – Honcho!” Jay shouts my name and impacts into me for a hug.
I was the first entity Jay met in the universe. Charlie is his friend, but the bindings between us go far deeper than friendship. Only Jay knows how deep them go; it is further and wider than even I can sense on my best days. That he didn’t realize I was here is more than a little worrying.
“Kiddo.” I hug him, and feel worry and some exhaustion I can’t known I was carrying drain away at the hug. “Everything okay?”
“Yup!” His grin is only truth.
I don’t press, not yet. “Good. What adventure did you have?”
He begins rattling off a list that ranged from eating some tires, helping an Outsider, making new friends and helping a flower become a new shade of green and a dozen other things, some of which are only adventures simply because Jay has them or found them.
“Ah. Well, we can have a few more if you want?”
“But we’re kind of waiting on Anya and Noah and they’ve learned lots from Charlie and a Jay but are having an adventure on their own for a little but you know!”
“I do now. They might have a longer adventures though, with just the two of them?”
“Really?! That would be pretty boring, unless they plan to have sex!”
I blink. “Sex.”
“It’s a pretty big binding, but you know it!”
“I do, yes.”
“And Charlie does, even if she’d never sex you, but I bet that means she’s waiting for me!”
“....for sex,” I say, not looking at Charlie at all. I can hear her teeth grind together.
“I’m not sure?! But I am pretty old for a Jay and really good at bindings.”
“That is a very specific human binding,” I say.
“But I can do lots of bindings,” Jay says, which is only the truth.
“But some only a Jay can do. And that means there are some a Jay shouldn't do.”
“Oh, okay!”
I wait a beat.
“But that’s not a couldn’t!”
“No, it’s not. But it would probably result in an oops.”
Jay nods to that. “I think sexing often does since it leads to hurt thumbs.”
“What?”
“Sexting isn’t the same thing,” Charlie says.
“That explains a lot.”
“I imagine it does. That means sex is –?” I ask because Jay is/isn’t eleven.
“A really good hug,” he says, and hug means – a lot. Most things do, with Jay.
“Ah. Well, I’m hungry so see about finding a breakfast hug?” I say.
Jay grins and vanishes.
“Congratulations; I am no longer worried about Anya and Noah at all,” Charlie says. “What even is a breakfast ‘hug’?”
“I have no idea; I suggest you finishing packing so we can find out?”
I slip out of the door before she can find something to throw at me.
Being a magician means many things, and is many others. But sometimes just being human and listening to your instincts is very wise.
Whatever hits the door is rather hard, and possibly a TV.
The ward I made on the door draw from a lot of people in the hotel worried about the doors to their room breaking down. Even so, I doubt it could take a second blow.
I just wait, and Charlie comes out three minutes later, packed and ready to depart.
“No sirens yet.”
“Not yet.”
We walk toward the nearest restaurant, and I try not to wonder how much further I might have to go to distract Jay for several more hours.
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noirbriar · 6 years ago
Text
MDZS Modern police AU drabble dump
1.
“BAM!”
“ALRIGHT! Listen up you crazy lot!Get in line and get in the car and ya’all know the drill” Wei Wuxian dryly speaks into the megaphone to his drunk audience. While the cadets start to haul the gangs into the police van-
“THE ONLY THING I KNOW IS YOU TO GET DOWN FROM OUR POLICE CAR WEI WUXIAN YOU ASSHOLE!!”
“Relax Jiang Cheng, the night is young!”
“Fuck this.” Jiang Cheng heads back into the stripper bar and swipes a pricey cognac off and proceeds to chug it.
Just another day for YunMeng City Police. And for people to upload pictures of their favourite inspector on Weibo.
2.
“Okay. We’re done. Chopchop go go go. I have places to be, people to see, Salty Huang. Don’t let me see ya around so soon in here. “
“But you didn’t...even finish my statement,Inspector Wei?”
“Since when do criminals want to complete their charges??”
“...”
Jiang Cheng walks out of the interrogation room. He needs another coffee, black. Like his bleak life as it is now. Sometimes he wondered how they survived together as kids. Also through cadet school.
Oh wait. He didn’t. Barely.
3.
“Inspector Wei, apologies but I know you are going off duty soon but we need a statement from this guy who refuses to have it taken by anyone but you.Its regarding the weird drug circulating around the streets.  “
“Ehhh??? Can’t Ah-Liu or someone do it?I’m in a hurry!”
“He specifically asked for you. Sir. “
Wei Wuxian sulked and proceeds to throw off his coat and follows the sheepish cadet to the interrogation room.
Where a man in a black coat, a black top hat and two black tabby cats are awaiting. Wei Wuxian flops onto a chair opposite of the man but not before he switches off the surveillance cameras.
“Tsktsktsk. Tian ah. Your disguises are getting ridiculous each time,Bu Zhi. “
“Excuse me. These is called haute couture. Ask your roommate he will teach you a thing or two!” Bu Zhi huffs, flicking a fancy Chinese ornamental fan open and waves slowly in front of him.
“Its tacky. Thats what it is. Any way what is is this time? Did you swipe off another ancient emperor era painting or some tang dynasty vase from some rich prick or what?
“I collect ART,Wei Wuxian. And I was having my eye on an exquisite cultivator era painting of the Sunshot Campaign. But I will have you know, that during my...curating...I have overheard Wang LingJiao, the mistress of Wen Chao, bragging about some drug. That sounds suspiciously like your case.”
“Wang LingJiao? The hussy of the young underground lord of Qishan City?”
“You heard nothing. You have not seen me.”
“And your brother doesn’t know. Chill. HuaiSang. I plan to keep my best intel around. ”
4.
Jiang Cheng is about to get into his car and get ready for his day off. Which is starting in 5.08 minutes. He is going to get the coffee machine going and have a nice hot soak in the tub after another disastrous bar raid. He just bought new unicorn bath bombs and his lounge chair awaits-
“JIANG CHENG HELP LEMME USE YOUR CAR I’M LATE!”Wei Wuxian jumps in from the passanger side and tries to wedge his childhood friend/ teammate off the driver seat.
“YOU HAVE YOUR OWN GODDAMN CAR!”
“ITS NOT WORKING! I’M LATE AND I STILL HAVE THE CAKE TO COLLECT!”
“USE MY MOM’S?!”
“YOU WANT MADAM YU TO KILL ME?!”
“THEN MY DAD’S!HE LIKES YOU?!”
“HE WENT OFF TO BRUNCH WITH AN OLD FRIEND!”
“WE ARE CHINESE WE DON’T DO BRUNCHES?!WHAT HAPPENED TO GOOD OLD FRIED YOU TIAO AND SOYBEAN MILK?!”
“HIS FRIEND HAS BEEN WESTERNISED?!”
5.
“Something wrong with the coffee, FengMian?”
“Its nothing but excellent RuoHan. Just a sneeze is all.”
“Ah. Shame, Changze can’t join us today.After being in Europe for so long I miss my dear friends. I was so hoping for a reunion. ”
The leader of the China Gangsters sighs loftily while Jiang FengMian smiles. The country club is exclusive and only by invitation. The food is excellent.
6.
In the end, Jiang Cheng had to take a taxi back to his loft. His off day now delayed by 20.56 minutes.
7.
Meanwhile, Wei Wuxian crashes back into his apartment, cake in hand and takeout on the other.
Mo Xuanyu comes out of the toddler room to greet his roommate.
“Ah. Wei ge, you’re-“
“A-YUAAAAAN~! Happy birthday my boy! Come come lemme hug you!”
“-back”
Wei Wuxian grabs the babbling toddler from the tired design student who gladly leaves with a yawn.
“Oh my god I’m sorry I’m late XuanYu, your portfolio..?”
“Gonna go submit now. Pantry is stocked, Alcohol is in the fridge, laundry is done, your mala sauce is in the fourth shelf.Don’t do anything stupid...yawwwn...I’m going to school...meet Huai Sang for breakfast.”
“Don’t let that sneaky fox bring you weird places!”
Mo Xuanyu smiles and gives A-yuan a goodbye wave before he leaves the apartment.
Leaving both father and son to enjoy a peaceful morning.
8.
Over in Gusu City, another family breakfast is underway. Though quiet. With dishes more bland with sugarless tea.
Lan Qingheng quietly pours his wife more congee and observes his sons who partakes after their elders. Both talented and outstanding in their career in the force. Shame that none of them chose law but he is proud nevertheless. 
Madame Lan is pleased to have her family together, along with their extended relatives who lives together within the same district. Its rare especially with everyone’s tight schedules for the entire Lan family to gather for something so pure and simple.. Lan Qiren may have retired early but he still oversees the cadet school. Lan Xichen now leads the Gusu City police while Wangji is climbing the ranks as inspector.
It is indeed a rare peaceful morning-
“Wangji, since your birthday is around the corner, I thought you may like an early present.”
“Oh! Xichen is so considerate, what did you get your brother?”
“Well-“
A crash and a few minutes later, an ambulance is called for Senior Inspector Lan Qiren whose blood pressure spiked unnaturally.
9.
“WHAT DO YOU MEAN I’M PROMOTED?!I HAVE TO MOVE TO GUSU?!”
Wei Wuxian drops back into reality the next day. In Superintendent Yu’s office.
“Exactly what I said. Starting next week, You will be working in Inspector Lan’s division.”
10.
In an upscale mansion in Gusu City, with a family picture and another of a selfie of a bright smiling teen and a younger him in cadet uniform adorning his minimalistic table in a rather minimalistic room. Also half a dozen of rabbits lying on top of him in a king sized bed, Lan Wangji is almost turning 30.He’s okay.
Not. ---
I don’t know where I’m going with this or why I even wrote this. I only had that one image of jiang fengmian and wen ruohan having brunch together and WWX being all suave and ridiculous on a cop car, thats literally it.
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hope-for-olicity · 6 years ago
Text
Pumpkin Spice and Football 7/?
Tumblr media
Felicity is the new Social Media Coordinator for the New York Jets, Oliver is the veteran quarterback - their worlds will change when they literally collide.
I LOVE the Fall and I hope you do too! This story will focus on all the fabulousness that Fall has to offer including NFL football. That being said, you don’t have to like football to like this story. This story is also available on AO3.
Thanks so so much to the AMAZING @mel-loves-all for the moodboard!
7. Sick
It turned out Felicity was right. Something Oliver was soon going to realize was the usual course of things. Instead of the press attacking him for keeping a secret, he was praised for helping out his family’s business. Between the news of his personal life and the Jets going 8-2 so far, this was the best year of Oliver’s professional career.
The team had flown in late last night from Miami. Felicity skipped the trip as she was feeling under the weather. He sent her some video from his phone to post. Oliver wanted to check on her but didn’t want to disturb if she was sleeping.
It was Monday, he knew Felicity had brunch plans with her friends but he could invite her for dinner her smiled as he picked up his phone.
Oliver: Hope you are feeling better
Oliver: Missed you yesterday
Oliver: Would you be up for a home cooked meal this evening?
Oliver: I’m leaning toward a cheat day with pasta :)
Oliver put his phone down,  pretending he wasn’t waiting for the buzz.
*****
Felicity grabbed a tissue as she sneezed. Her head felt like it weighed a million pounds. She thought working from home would do the trick yesterday, apparently not. She felt like she was going to die. Her phone buzzed on her nightstand.
Felicity: Welcome back
Felicity: I missed you lots
Felicity: I’d love dinner but I’m still sick
Felicity: Can’t make the star qb sick, his fans would kill me
Felicity: cough, sneeze, cough
*****
Oliver smiled. It was so sweet that she cared.
Oliver: I’m going to let you in on a secret
Oliver: I don’t get sick
Oliver: Are you going to brunch?
Felicity: I’m dying
Felicity: No brunch
Felicity: No dinner
Felicity: No fun
Felicity: No welcome back kisses :(
Oliver: Okay, rest up. I need my welcome back kisses BADLY
Oliver: I’ll be by later
Oliver decided to make his famous chicken soup. He just had to run out to get supplies.
*****
Felicity snuggled under the covers. She didn’t deserve Oliver Queen, he really was too wonderful. They had not gone public with their relationship yet. They told Coach Lance and Oliver’s agent John Diggle as well as their close friends. They wanted to make sure they weren’t breaking any rules. They were given the go-ahead to go public but decided to wait.
Thanksgiving was fast approaching, Felicity was very excited to spend her first with a traditional family. Oliver told his family they were together, he said they were happy for him. She so hoped this was true.
Felicity closed her eyes thinking of Thanksgiving, she woke to a soft knocking on her bedroom door. She slowly opened her eyes to see Oliver.
“Hey,” Oliver spoke softly, “I used my key so as not to wake you but then how would you know about the soup?” Oliver smiled.
“Soup?” Felicity poked her nose out from under the covers. “Brr, it’s cold in here.”
Oliver took a seat at the end of her bed. “I know, I think you forgot to turn on the heat. I turned it on for you. I also put the soup on your stove burner to heat.”
Felicity looked worried. “Is there smoke?”
“No.” Oliver tried not to look alarmed. “Why would there be smoke?”
Felicity shook her head, quickly grabbed a tissue before sneezing again. “It’s just I’ve never used it before, usually when I use the stove there is smoke….” Her voice trialled off, she looked sheepish.
“Okay, I’m an experienced stove user so you don’t need to worry. No smoke.” Oliver reassured. Felicity looked so cute bundled up under a dozen blankets with her pink nose and messy hair. He knew better than to say it but he simply adored her.
“Thank you for the soup. You are too good to me. But Oliver, you need to go home! Wash your hands, take a shower, you must disinfect!” Felicity began to shoo him away with her hands.
Oliver chuckled. “No. I’m a big strong man with a strong immune system. I’m here to take care of my girlfriend. It’s okay that I call you that?”
Felicity practically beamed. “I like that.”
“Good, I do too.” He knew he was smiling at her like an idiot. “So, what do you want to do? Do you want me to bring you soup in bed? It’s important we get some liquids in you.”
Felicity began to cough.
Oliver rushed out of the room, returning with a glass of water that Felicity gratefully accepted. She took a few careful sips. “Sorry, guess I should go get some cough medicine.”
“No need! I brought you everything!” Oliver smiled hoping he was scoring boyfriend points.
“You did? What did you get?” Felicity began to get out of bed, quickly sat back down. “Oops,” she blushed. “Did that a little too quickly.”
Oliver got up to help Felicity get up. She was a little steadier on her feet the second time. “I take this means you are getting up”
Felicity walked over to her dresser. “Yes, I’ll put on a fresh pair of comfy clothes then meet you in the kitchen.”
“I’ll be waiting. Call if you need me.” Oliver closed the door behind him.
Felicity smiled she really did have the best boyfriend. She’d never had a boyfriend take care of her when she was sick, it was kind of, no really nice.
*****
Felicity shuffled out into the kitchen in her bunny slippers, leggings, a Jets t-shirt and one of his old Jets hoodies.
“Okay, I wasn’t going to say anything but now I have to. Felicity Smoak you are adorable.” Oliver quickly put some soup on the small table for her. Followed by a tall glass of water.
He took the seat across from her, watching Felicity crinkle her nose.
“What? You don’t like it? You haven’t even tried it yet.” Oliver pushed her bowl closer to her.
Felicity rose her hands in defence. “It’s not that. I’m just wondering, where is your soup?”
“The soup is for you. To make you better. I’m good.”
“What if I said it would make me feel better if you ate the soup too? I don’t want you to get sick. I’ve been breathing all over you. Breathing my yucky germs, I mean.” Felicity began to eat her soup. “This is amazing, Oliver. Is there anything you can’t do?”
Oliver chuckled. “Felicity, I doubt anything about you is yucky, including your germs. If you insist I’ll have some soup if it will make you feel better but first let me show you what I brought you.” Oliver grabbed a bag from the kitchen island. He began placing the items on the table in front of her. “I got cough syrup which will also help with your head cold, the pharmacy said this was fine as long as you don’t have asthma.  I got apple juice, orange juice and pineapple juice because I wasn’t sure which one you liked. I got you a chocolate bar and ice cream which I put in the fridge and freezer respectively. Some magazines,” Oliver tossed some a People, a Wired, a Vanity Fair and Sports Illustrated on the table. “Finally, I got you this,” he pulled out a stuffed Tardis. “It’s the right one, I think, it has a Doctor Who tag.”
Felicity slowly got up, walked toward Oliver. Who was looking a little worried. She hugged him. Germs be damned. “Thank you, Oliver. I love it all. I’ve never had anyone spoil me like you do. You make me feel so special.” Tears began to form in her eyes.
“Hey,” Oliver hugged her tight. “Don’t cry. I’m glad you like the stuff. It’s supposed to help you get better.”
“Well, it does. Your soup has magical healing powers.” Felicity beamed up at him.
“You best finish it then.” Oliver gestured for her to sit again.
They spent the rest of the day together. In the end, Oliver did get a minor cold. Felicity felt awful but he assured he was a big tough man and it was totally worth it.
*****
As Oliver and Felicity remained professional at work, no one outside the people they told knew about their relationship. Oliver really was amazed given how the press followed him that their secret remained a secret. They both knew they were living on borrowed time.
Which was why when they were cornered by photographers while packing Oliver’s SUV for their Thanksgiving trip, Felicity put Team Olicity plan into action.
First, after the encounter, she scrolled through media outlets and social media to see if they were being talked about. She insisted, but Oliver disagreed that the press might think she’s his assistant.
As Oliver drove, Felicity scanned on her phone. Making little noises now and then.
Finally, Oliver couldn’t take the silence anymore. It was weird. Felicity was never silent. “Well?”
“We’ve been outed,” Felicity said sadly.
“Finally!” Oliver was overjoyed.
“What do you mean finally? You wanted this? Why didn’t you say anything?” Felicity felt confused. She knew her whole life was about to change. She had already seen trolls on Twitter saying she was too fat and nowhere good enough for Oliver Queen.
“Felicity, I am so proud to be your boyfriend. I want to shout it out to the world! The only reason I haven’t as I know you didn’t ask for this. For the attention, you will receive. I will try my best to protect you but you, more than most, know how people can be awful. That being said.” Oliver looked away from the road for a quick second to hand her his phone. “Can you tweet my tweet?” He gave her a quick smile that was only for her.
Team Olicity already had a tweet written and a pic to attach. Felicity had loved the idea of them controlling the story when it was hypothetical but now that it was happening she was freaking out. Like, what if Oliver changed his mind tomorrow. She’d lose her job, her reputation, everyone would laugh as they knew she wasn’t good enough for him.
Felicity was so caught up in her own personal mental freakout that she didn’t realize Oliver pulled over at a rest stop.
Oliver turned to face her. “Breath, baby, just breath. I’m here. I’m not going anywhere. We are going to talk about this. Everything is going to be okay. Just breath.” Truthfully, Oliver thought he’d be the one freaking out. Felicity was always so calm and collected. Seeing her freak out was a little reassuring.
Slowly, Felicity began to breathe evenly. “Sorry, about that.”
Oliver pulled her close for an awkward car hug. “No need for sorries. This will be big change for you. And you more than most, being so connected to social media, know this. Just remember, I know you, nothing these trolls say is true.” Before Felicity, realized it was happening Oliver had taken both their phones back from her. He saw the trolls comment about her being fat and not good enough.
“I need you to listen to me. Felicity, you are not fat. Being fat is not bad but you are not. If you gain or lose weight for whatever reason, it will change nothing. No matter your body type, you are too good for me.” Oliver wiped a tear that slid down Felicity’s cheek. “I love you and I want the whole world to know it.”
Felicity’s eyes widened. “You love me?” She took off her glasses, wiping the tears from her eyes before putting them back on.
“Yep. I have for some time now. Maybe since the first time, you spilt a latte on me.” He chuckled.
“I love you, Oliver. I was worried about saying it too soon but I’ve never felt this way before. I just hope that everyone knowing won’t change things.” Felicity smiled hopefully.
“We won’t let it.” Oliver leaned forward to kiss placing a soft kiss on Felicity’s lips. The kiss quickly escalated.
Finally, Felicity pulled back. “Best not start something we can’t finish.” She smiled. They hadn’t slept together yet but she had a feeling it would be soon. Truthfully, she couldn’t wait.
Oliver smiled at her slyly. Then picked up his phone. Copied the text they planned into a tweet, attached a pic of them before turning the phone to Felicity. “Look good?”
Felicity sighed. “Looks perfect.” She hit tweet.
I am happy to confirm that I am in a relationship with @FelicitySmoakNYJets. Ms. Smoak and I met when she took on the role of Social Media Coordinator for the New York Jets this year. We are both very happy. We ask that you respect our privacy. #GoJets
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(Not my photo)
So hope you enjoyed! Thanks for reading :)
@mindramblingsfics @memcjo @mel-loves-all @wherethereissmoak @green-arrows-of-karamel @spaztronautwriter @tdgal1 @vaelisamaza @lucyyh @tangled23works @swordandarrow @marcsmom6 @smoaking-greenarrow @pattid1 @1106angel @it-was-a-red-heeler @obibaldwin @folly1977 @nathiawarrior @alemap74 @samwinter09 @miriam1779 @coal000 @alejandra1400 @you-are-not-done-fighting @matalala @alexisa1206 @blondeeoneexox @felicityfan20 @emw751103 @mochababychristy @omglovechrissie @stephswims @fortheluvofolicity @ajillgreen @laurabelle2930
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forumofkuka · 6 years ago
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Emory University: First Week!
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As my second full day of classes is coming to a close, I’ve decided to reflect back on my first week here in Atlanta, Georgia. Although I didn’t move in until Saturday, August 25th, my father and I flew down Thursday morning. When my final days in Connecticut were approaching, I’ll be honest, I definitely didn’t feel super prepared or knowledgeable about what I was getting myself into. After all, I didn’t start packing until maybe three days before, and I was even still doing that 3 hours before my flight was scheduled to take off. Moreover, I still had to make a ton of purchases in Atlanta for my dorm, like school supplies and bathroom essentials. 
Being that I wouldn’t be returning home until late November, I made a point in my last week to spend more time at home and with family. Although I facetimed friends during those days, I visited my paternal grandparents and also spent time with my sisters (i.e. Making a sisters-only trip up to Agawam, Massachusetts, to spend the afternoon at Six Flags). Saying goodbye to certain relatives was more emotional than I had imagined. Maybe it was my heightened hormones from my period or just suppressed anxieties about picking up my life and moving 1000 miles away, a surge of tears definitely came on when I was saying goodbye to my grandparents the day before my flight. I couldn’t stop them during the drive home either, even though I was trying to not be hysterical in front of my youngest sister who was in the passenger seat beside me. Alisa, my youngest sister, was someone I had been spending a lot more time with in the last few weeks, whether it be going bowling for an hour, getting our eyebrows done, or even running errands. In my final minutes before departing for the airport, I noticed that she was hanging around me a lot more, and that maybe she was also suppressing some feelings as well. LOL even while thinking back on this, I find myself unable to hold back the tears. Anyway, hugging her goodbye also set me off again, although my dad didn’t comment on it so that made it easier for me to calm down. 
I’ve always dreamt about college, and looked forward to the possibilities that come with higher education and being in a new location/larger institution. It wasn’t until my senior week that I started realizing what kinds of apprehensions I had underneath all the enthusiasm about the future. You know, I went to the same secondary school for 6 years, where some of my closest friendships had been that old as well. Sure, I made new connections every year, and my closeness with friends fluctuated throughout the era, but I always had a solid sense of who was my friend and who was merely an acquaintance. The idea of going into college fresh, with a blank slate, was both something I was excited about but I also realized something I was afraid of. Sitting here, 5 days into the process, I’ve met dozens of super interesting, approachable, and intelligent people. I’ve made various acquaintances, whether they be in my dorm, my orientation group, my classes, or spontaneous encounters I’ve had walking around campus. With that being said, although I have people I can message to eat meals with or sit in a lounge with, I don’t feel comfortable here yet socially. I don’t have a solid group, and I’ve been feeling more FOMO (fear of missing out) than I could’ve ever really felt in high school. I don’t know, in some instances, when I see groups of people going off together, especially when I am acquainted with them, to a party or some off-campus event, I definitely feel a little isolation. I don’t know, I don’t want a college experience where all I do is go to class, study, eat food with people, go to a club meeting, and sleep. I want some archetypal college experiences, whether it be going to parties or even taking advantages of the many events that occur in the metropolitan areas of Atlanta. In instances like this, I think I’m just allowing my uncertainties and vulnerability get the best of me, especially because I probably am just making assumptions about the involvement and acclimation of those around me. We all put up facades, and as someone who constantly tries to break mine by confiding in others and being an open person, I should acknowledge and believe this. I’m sure it’s normal. All of my concerns and insecurities are probably expected and on track with where I should be. I just have to remember not to rush into things, because things are going well - they could be so much worse. Everyone I’ve engaged in conversation with has been kind and I haven’t even gone to an activities fair yet, so I haven’t even finished making the frame of my initial social spheres. 
My two days prior to actual moving in went pretty smoothly. We went shopping a lot, spent way too much money of course, because who knew how many little things you’d actually need in your dorm? My list of supplies continued to grow throughout those 48 hours, as I started remembering the smallest but most essential things that I always had at my disposal when I lived in a family home, rather than a 11′ by 20′ dorm room. We went to some cool eateries in the area, such as Poke Burri, a social media renowned poke stand that makes sushi doughnuts, burritos, bowls, pizza, you name it - although it is located in a more rundown, artistic, hipster neighborhood that is a little unassuming, it was pretty cool and a general area I’d want to revisit again with some friends (neurotic, protective fathers are probably not built for a place like that). We also visited my former Russian teacher, who a few months before my acceptance to Emory, had announced that she was moving to a city that’s just under an hour outside of Atlanta. It was comforting to be able to see her again, and even nicer to know that she’s more than willing to be a source of support for me too. I think I’m going to try and visit her in late September or early October, just because I don’t really have too many familiar faces here.  In terms of the whole move-in process, the day went pretty smoothly. My scheduled move-in time was 7:00am, so my dad and I woke up at 5:45am to get there on time. We finished unpacking my various suitcases and packages around 1:00pm (I worked slower than I probably should LOL). I met my roommate and her family of course, which went nicely. She and I clicked immediately, we’ve been communicated for about 4 months now, since we had requested each other way back in April. Even though I felt like we’d make great friends, I even started getting apprehensive about how she and I would get along, since it’s always hard to kind of tell how someone is over text and how someone is in person. So far, everything has been pretty easy-going, and both of us have been very willing to share and compromise, which is great :) We are different in various ways, but also alike in others, so I’m happy with how that’s going! Our ability to click quickly was definitely something that reassuringly lifted stress off my shoulders. After unpacking my belongings, we met with our orientation groups, had the Emory Welcome assembly, the traditional Emory Coke Toast (after which my father left), and then another Emory After Dark social event, where students were able to get free food from various local food trucks and mingle. 
So far, all of the social events have proven to be more or less fun, and have resulted in me encountering a wide breadth of interesting and kind people. I’ve yet to meet someone who has been explicitly rude or unapproachable, and it’s just been really cool to be surrounded by so many people who are passionate, driven, and talented. Though, I will say, I’ve never been more exhausted in my life. With our orientation days packed to the brim with Songfest practices, orientation leader meetings, convocation, Emory welcome events, you name it - any free time we do have, usually begins at around 9:00pm, meaning it’s pretty likely that if you want to have control over who you hang out with, you’ll end up going to bed around 12:00am to 1:00am every night. Or, at least I have. So far, my roommate has been pretty easygoing with me coming in late, I think both for her sake and my own, I’m going to have to cut it down, because I went to bed at nearly 2:00am last night (today is 8/31/2018) even, and I woke up at 8:00am (mind you, I was going to wake up at 6:30am to go to the gym). Last night, after Songfest - which is a freshman-dorm singing and dancing competition where each residence hall basically disses the other and competes for best shirt/banner/lyrics/performance - I was thinking about going to The Mansion for their Emory Back to School Event, but it would’ve started at like 10:30pm and gone to 3:00am, and apparently a lot of girls get sexually assaulted there so I’m glad I decided against it. It’s weird, even on the night after move-in day, I saw hoards of girls all dressed up to go off campus to parties - how do people even find out about these kinds of things? I also don’t understand what’s the rush? Like you barely know the people in your own dorm building, let alone already going off to get trashed somewhere else.  It’s strange the severity of FOMO I’ve been feeling here, like it hasn’t been atrocious, but it has been more than at home, and it has been contributing to feelings of depression that I haven’t felt in a long time. Later today, I’m going to call the Psychological & Mental Health Services Office to try and schedule and appointment, because it hasn’t even been a week since move in, and I’m already feeling myself shut down and want to isolate myself. It really hit me that I may need to get counseling when I found myself having difficulty holding back tears while I was in the midst of one of the most high-spirited, school events of my four years here - why would anyone be sad while having school spirit and being around people who are super energetic and enthusiastic? So, it felt like something was wrong.  
Nonetheless, I’m really excited for the opportunity to reinvent myself. I went to the Religion & Spirituality Fair the other day, and I’m really interested in not only being apart of the Baha’i Student Association (wasn’t at the fair but I’m in contact with the leading people), but I kind of want to learn more about UKirk Atlanta, which is a very-liberal, Presbyterian church group that comes here every Thursday evening. I don’t know, the people were very gay-pride, bubbly, and quirky, so I think it would be enlightening and also fun. A lot of the groups, oddly enough, are okay with attendees not being of the faith, so I feel more encouraged to go to these meetings just as a means of learning about the religion and its community here on campus. I also went to the LGBT Freshman/Transfer Welcome Meeting, which was really nice. I’ll be honest, I don’t know if it was my place to go, I don’t believe in sexuality labels (meaning, I identify as non-conforming), and with that being said I don’t know if that constitutes as me being able to say I could fall into any of the LGBT spectrum. However, people were kind and maybe as I continue exploring myself, I’ll find that I fall more into one realm over a current one (I’ve been more attracted to masculinity/cis-men for a while now). With all this being said, it’s just really cool how many different student programs there are here on campus. Some others I want to explore are Club Weightlifting, A Cappella, Emory Dark Arts, Active Minds, Ballroom Dancing Club, a literary journal/newspaper, and some sort of community service oriented group. Unlike in high school, I feel like I want to be more involved in activities that are more like hobbies, rather than something that is related to my academic interests. We’ll see though, the Activities Fair is on Saturday, and I think now’s a good time to explore things and just kind of really start figuring out how and where I want to set my foot at this school.  In terms of my academic classes thus far, I’ve enjoyed all of them. I’m taking PSYC 110: Psychobiology & Cognition (General Psychology 1), RUSS 201: Intermediate Reading/Writing/Speaking, CHEM 150: Lecture & Lab (General Chemistry 1), and PHIL 111: Existentialism & European Philosophy. Aside from the class materials and textbooks being horribly expensive, I think I’m going to gain a lot from all these classes. I really like my professors for all of them, especially my philosophy instructor, who isn’t even a professor - he’s a PhD student who wears grayscale outfits, has plugs (stretches his lobes), a huge beard, and swears. Chemistry will be a difficult class for me, I can tell already, but the professor is super passionate and teamwork-oriented so I think I’ll come out of it with a good foundation in the science. The one class I feel a little strange about is my Russian class, because as a somewhat “native” speaker, it is strange to be in a room full of non-native speakers trying to speak Russian, as well as being in a Russian learning setting where the professor speaks English 85% of the time. The weird thing is, I feel like the class is moving very slowly and like we’re learning a lot of basic vocabulary, but I also don’t feel like I have the strong foundation in grammar to try and move up to the 300 level class. It’s so hard to judge placement at this point because it’s syllabus week, and the add/drop/swap period ends on Wednesday, so by Tuesday night, I would’ve only had 4 Russian classes to judge. I think I’m going to stick it out and then begin a different language next year, because I’m not planning on even minoring in Russian - it’s merely courses I’m taking to improve my ability to speak with relatives and people of my culture/heritage. I’m deciding between French and Arabic for this new language I want to start, but I also want to continue with Spanish, so I will probably end up studying that again at some point too. My psychology lecture is interesting in that a good half of the courses focuses on gender identity, sexuality, love, and topics of that nature - something I would not have expected to be included in an intro level course. Of course, the course also goes over the major sections of the brain, the five senses, and memory, but I find it strange that gender and sexuality is also a huge component. Nonetheless, it is something I wanted to learn more about so it’ll be cool!
My polaroid project has been going well, it will be a pricey investment, but I know I’ll enjoy looking back on it. 
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quicksilversquared · 7 years ago
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How to Fake a Marriage: chapter 9
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(AO3) (FF.net)
As it turned out, the dresses weren't the only things that the tabloids noticed. There were more than a few pictures of Adrien and Marinette at Fashion Week popping up in the racks in the grocery check-out lines. Some were taken out of context- seemingly intimate photos of Marinette standing close to Adrien and adjusting his lapels before he went on the runway, him giving her encouraging pats on the shoulder, both of them ducking into the changing rooms. The headlines made him blush- Model gets cozy with intern and Romance behind the scenes at London Fashion Week? and Agreste heir finds love?. When Adrien worked up the courage to flip to the article while they waited in line at the grocery check-out, he could tell that more than a little attention had been paid to the fact that he was a last-minute sub in the show. There was a lot of speculation about why the other model had been replaced by him, and most of it involved claims that his father had disowned him (insert photo of his father looking angry; Adrien suspected that they hadn't had to look particularly hard for that kind of picture), so he needed money for his "rebellious" dash to freedom in a physics program in London and his "girlfriend" had set him up with a modelling contract so he could pay for a lifestyle that would no doubt continue spiraling downwards with more rebellious acts such as drinking, smoking, and partying hard.
Yeah, it was a bit of a stretch, especially when they could have done a bit of research and found that the other model was still laid up with a broken leg.
"Oh, there's the wedding photoshoot pictures," Marinette said as they cooked dinner together that evening, and Adrien looked up to see Marinette looking through another magazine. Her colleagues (and Madam Rosalie) had found and bought pretty much every tabloid that had mentioned them and had come stampeding over earlier that afternoon to offload them on Marinette. According to her, they had been grinning deviously when they presented the giant pile to her. "This one's claiming we secretly eloped and used the photoshoot as a cover so your father wouldn't find out."
Adrien snorted and paged through his own magazine. rolling his eyes at the ridiculous jumps in logic that the writers were making. He could see how writers might have thought that he was dating someone if he showed up with a girl on his arm out of the blue, but Marinette had been his friend for forever. It was hardly strange for him to hang out with a friend.
As expected, Adrien got called by his father later that night. Gabriel wasn't furious, which made Adrien guess that Nathalie had already done some damage control (he owed her, like, a dozen boxes of gourmet chocolates), but he wasn't happy that Adrien had ended up in one tabloid, never mind nearly a dozen.
"Like I told you before, the previous model was injured and I just happened to be the right size and walk into the building about ten minutes after they got the call that he wouldn't be able to make it," Adrien explained. "So that's why they didn't call the agency up. And of course I couldn't say no, Madam Rosalie is a friend of yours and mom's, and Marinette is my friend. I couldn't just leave them hanging."
"Yes, yes, I know that," Gabriel said impatiently. Adrien could hear the sound of his father's fingers tapping impatiently on his desk on the other end of the line. "The pre-runway show photos I can understand easily enough. But then they have pictures of you and the girl attached at the hip during the rest of Fashion Week. Arriving together, walking around to presentations together, sitting together during runway shows-"
"It is customary for people to spend time together when they're friends," Adrien said dryly, trying to not let too much sarcasm slip into his voice. "I don't really know people there, and Marinette couldn't really track down her coworkers in the crowd. Besides, we enjoy hanging out with each other."
Gabriel snorted. "They have photos of you wrapping your suit jacket around Marinette and then practically hanging all over her. And kissing her, no less."
"On the cheek," Adrien clarified helpfully. He frowned slightly- he hadn't spotted that photo. It must have been in one of the magazines that he hadn't looked through yet.
There was silence on the other end of the line.
"The show area was a bit on the chilly side Thursday morning," Adrien explained, figuring that this was no time to joke around. Of course, with his father, there was really never a good time to joke around. "Marinette was shivering and the button-up I was wearing under my suit jacket was on the heavy side, so I gave her the jacket. And then I was a little cold, so cuddling was an obvious choice."
There was a long, exasperated sigh on his father's end of the line. "And the kiss?"
"We're French. Cheek kisses are a thing that exists." He and Marinette had been messing around, teasing each other before the runway show started. Marinette had been pretending to complain about Adrien hanging all over her and so he had nuzzled her neck in retaliation before pressing a friendly kiss to her cheek. She had only laughed more and pushed him away with a finger on his nose. It had been fun at the time, being able to tease each other freely like he often did with Ladybug when he was Chat Noir, but maybe Adrien should have known that there would be photographers nearby who weren't only interested in the clothes.
It was a pain being semi-famous, really. There had been a duo straight-up making out before one of the shows a few rows behind them and they hadn't had their pictures splashed all over the tabloids, yet a little cuddling on Adrien's part and suddenly it was some kind of Big Deal.
Gabriel let out a long, exasperated sigh. "You know that's not the way the tabloids saw it. You aren't a child anymore; you need to consider how others might interpret your actions. I suppose there's no real way to prevent the tabloids from twisting things, but do at least try to keep from doing anything that would give them real ammunition."
Adrien was sorely tempted to say "aww, so I'm not allowed to spiral into a life of drinking, smoking, and partying hard?" but he suspected that his father probably wouldn't be particularly amused.
"Of course," Adrien said instead.
"You may get approached by gossip 'reporters' because of these pieces." The disdain in Gabriel's voice was clear. "Nathalie is sending you a list of ones that won't twist your words quite as much as others will. You only need to talk with one to get things straightened out."
Personally, Adrien didn't particularly care if things got straightened out. It wasn't as though the tabloids were trying to say hurtful things about him- Marinette was his friend, after all, and anyone would be lucky to date her- and it wasn't as thought their words actually affected his life. Still, it was probably better just to do what his father wanted. If his father wanted him to give the tabloids the real story and explain that he and Marinette were just friends, then that was what he would do. They could save the snuggling for movie nights in their apartment when they didn't have other people over.
(Plagg would still tease him about it, but it was better than getting a lecture from his father.)
"Is he angry?" Marinette asked as the call ended and Adrien set his phone down with a sigh. She wandered back into the living room and flopped down to join him on the couch. "The articles weren't your fault."
"He's not happy, that's for sure," Adrien said with a grimace. "He said that he understood the pictures that were during the run-up to Madam Rosalie's runway show, but all of the ones during the rest of Fashion Week..."
"But those were just of us sitting together, right? That's normal friend stuff."
"They got pictures of me giving you my jacket." A pause. "And pictures from when we were messing around and I was hanging all over you."
Marinette groaned at that.
"But I don't know why they're making such a big deal out of it," Adrien said, frowning. "Friends hang out. Friends hug each other." He caught Marinette making a slight face and he frowned. "Don't they?"
"The hugging...it depends, really," Marinette said slowly. "I mean, Alya and I hug each other all the time. Some people don't."
"Is it weird?"
"To some people it is," Marinette admitted, shrugging. "Some people aren't very touchy. You're very touchy."
Adrien frowned in confusion and tugged Marinette over so she would be sitting right next to him on the couch, practically curled up against his side. "Touchy? Like, oversensitive? What does that have to do with the photos?"
"No, no, not touchy like oversensitive. Handsy would be a better word, I guess. You like having your hands on people."
"No I don't," Adrien argued, draping his arm over Marinette's shoulders to tug her even closer and arrange her against his side. "My parents raised me to be a perfect gentleman. I keep my hands to myself."
Marinette raised an eyebrow at him. Adrien raised his eyebrows right back until Marinette glanced down at his arm, still hanging over her shoulder. He blinked, then groaned, pulling his arm away. Marinette laughed and pulled it right back before he could go too far.
"I don't mind, really," Marinette said as she settled his arm back into place. "It's nice. But did you seriously not realize that you do that all the time?"
"Do I really?" Adrien asked, completely dismayed. He hadn't even noticed. "Shoot, I didn't mean to get up in strangers' personal bubbles-"
"Oh, you don't do it to strangers," Marinette assured him hastily, patting his hand reassuringly. "Like, maybe there's the occasional shoulder touch with people you kind of know, but it's not like you go around cuddling random people on the bus all the time."
"You don't know that I don't," Adrien teased, relieved that she wasn't bothered by it. "I take the bus to and from school every day by myself. You don't know what I might do during those rides."
"You guzzle down something with caffeine on the way to your classes and review your notes on the way home," Marinette said, grinning as she poked his side, making him squirm. "Don't tell me you don't."
That was actually...surprisingly accurate. He didn't review his notes on the bus, but he did try to take a chunk out of his assigned readings while heading back after his classes were over. He had had conversations with people on the bus a couple times, mostly when there were fellow classmates he recognized on the same bus or when someone talked to him first, but for the most part he kept to himself or tried to hold a hushed conversation with Plagg.
"Have you been spying on me?" Adrien teased, giving Marinette's shoulders another little tug. "Because that's what it sounds like to me."
"No, you're just predictable."
"Oh, shush. I am not." At least, he was pretty sure that he wasn't. A thought struck him, and he grimaced. "I bet the people at school won't think so, not after all the tabloids. So much for people not knowing who I am here."
  Paul was smirking when Adrien walked into his second class of the day on Monday and Adrien found himself repressing a groan.
"You look like that cat that ate the canary," Adrien informed him as he set his bag down on the desk. "Stop smirking, it's disturbing."
"I don't know if I can," Paul said smugly. "You see, I was grocery shopping this weekend and happened upon this most interesting magazine."
Yeah, Adrien could definitely see where this was going. Fabulous.
With a grin, Paul brought out one of the tabloid magazines that had gotten Adrien in trouble. "See, I didn't hear that you were going to be doing Fashion Week! Someone kept that a secret- well, until his face was plastered to every magazine at the end of the grocery lane. My sister was heartbroken to hear that you were apparently already married."
"Oh, is that the story that they're trying to sell with that one?" He vaguely remembered seeing something along those lines in the magazines he and Marinette had gotten. He had stopped paying attention after the first few. Plagg could probably recite the articles of by heart; the small god had been delighted by the pile of magazines that Marinette's coworkers had brought over and once Marinette was gone, he had settled in to read every last one of them. Adrien wouldn't be surprised if Plagg started quoting bits of the articles soon, just to be annoying.
Paul laughed, flipping through the pages of the magazine. "That's what it seems like. You have to admit, it does seem a little suspicious, with those wedding pictures. Even I could tell that there was something different with that photoshoot."
"If you say so." Adrien certainly didn't see it; after all, the photos had turned out lovely and everyone ended up looking very natural. Sure, it had a variety of body types, but Adrien was fairly sure that that was on-trend right now. Besides, they chose the interns that they did based on who fit the dressed Madam Rosalie had on hand. They had been planning to have variety in the photoshoot anyway.
Besides, the runway switch-out that that the tabloids were currently throwing such a fit over? Things happened to models all the time and replacements were hardly uncommon. Designers normally had a little more warning when a switch was needed, but the switches themselves weren't that unusual. His father usually had at least one model switch per runway show, usually two or three. Considering that that was higher than the industry average, Adrien suspected that the high turnover rate of their models probably had something to do with his father's demanding personality and harsh criticisms.
"You know, I've never really been one to read gossip magazines before, but if you showing up in them is gonna be a regular occurrence I might just have to do it more often." Paul smirked at the look on Adrien's face. "What? I'm just saying. This is absolutely hilarious, and the others are just as good."
"Please don't tell me that you decided to actually buy more than one of those magazines."
"My younger sister bought them," Paul said cheerfully, pulling out another magazine and waving it at Adrien. "Well, she and her friends. And then my mother confiscated them because she said they were trash rags, and then I got them from her for teasing purposes."
"Marinette's coworkers practically buried her under all of the magazines and articles they could find about us," Adrien admitted. From what he had heard by text from Marinette this morning, it sounded like her coworkers were trying to make a scrapbook with every tabloid article and picture in it. It would be funny if it weren't so embarrassing. "And then the daily paper apparently had a section devoted to daily sightings of celebrities and for some reason they included Marinette and I-"
"And did a daily update on you two being spotted together, I know," Paul said, still snickering. "I was going to text you and ask if you knew about it, but then I figured that the two of you would probably get all stiff and weird around each other if you knew people were watching you. And then it wouldn't have been quite as amusing."
"Thank you, you're so considerate," Adrien said dryly. Paul was right- he would have probably tried to put a little more space between himself and Marinette and he definitely wouldn't have done the snuggling and the kiss on the cheek had he known that people were apparently watching them- and while it wouldn't have been as fun, it would make trying to explain things during any interviews easier. As things stood, any interviewers would probably think that he was trying to hide a secret relationship because of the faux-wrestling and cheek kiss.
"I think I would get along with Marinette's coworkers," Paul decided as he tucked the magazines away. "If they're teasing the two of you, they're good in my books. Are they putting together a CD or anything of all of the times they showed the two of you together on TV?"
Adrien froze. All the times they showed him and Marinette on TV? "What?"
"I mean, mostly it was short clips of the two of you milling around looking at things or sitting waiting for the runway shows to start, but-"
"Did they have clips of us watching the runway?" If they did, that could be bad. Adrien had had his arm thrown around Marinette's shoulders for more than a couple shows, and then if they had any clips of him watching Marinette as she watched the runway...
Yeah, those looks could definitely be misinterpreted.
"No, they were a little more focused on the clothes, oddly enough," Paul drawled a bit sarcastically. "And from what I could tell, it was perhaps a little too dark in the rest of the room to be bothering with trying to record people's expressions. Why, were you up to something?"
"No, no, dark lighting can just make things look more intimate than they actually are," Adrien said hastily before Paul could get any ideas. "And the press likes making big deals out of shadows and claiming that there's a hand where there's actually a wrinkle in a jacket or something."
"If you say so." Paul shrugged and changed the subject. "So are you ready for the rest of the semester? I don't know about you, but I have projects for all of my classes and I'm not looking forward to trying to juggle all of them and studying and, y'know, having a social life."
"I don't think it'll be that bad," Adrien said with a small grin. "I've been looking at the write-ups for some of those projects and there's a couple that are pretty short. As long as I don't leave them all until last minute, I think they'll be fine." He had had to deal with projects before for his business major, and they only ever caused problems if he left them off until last minute, got too panicked about them, or- rue the day- if he got stuck in a group project. He was already halfway done with two term-long projects.
He could get anything done and still have time for weekend excursions as long as he had good time management. It was something he had had drilled into him throughout his life (and then driven completely home when he had to try to get all of his planned activities plus fighting akumas plus homework done) and thankfully he hadn't let himself slide at all once he headed off to university. From what he could tell, more than a few of his classmates had trouble with the concept, even including Paul at times. They spent too much time partying or procrastinating and then had to stay up late to get their studying done. Adrien preferred to try to get things done- or at least mostly completed- before going off to do other things.
"I started working on two projects over the break," Paul said. "So, y'know, it really wasn't much of a break. But I guess it really wasn't much of a break for you either, right? Because you were working?"
"Only on one- okay, two- days," Adrien pointed out. "And it was interesting to see some of the fashions going on right now."
"And now you have to deal with the fallout from being there. How soon d'you think the reporters are going to start to swarm? I'm surprised they didn't pounce on you while you were still at Fashion Week."
"Oh, I'm sure they'll turn up soon." Adrien glanced at the window. He was about 90% percent certain that he would run into at least a handful after class was over, hounding him as he tried to head to his class in another building. "Honestly, it's just a matter of time."
  Adrien stepped out of the building to see a whole horde of reporters from various tabloids and gossip shows waiting for him right outside the door.
Great.
There was a general cry as they spotted Adrien, and he abandoned his momentary panicked idea of jumping over the side of the stairs and making a desperate break for it. He had faced the press before as himself just fine (and as Chat Noir numerous other times), and just because he didn't have Nathalie at his side this time didn't mean he couldn't do it. He didn't have to answer any questions now, which put him more at ease.
The ball was in his court. He didn't have to tell them anything and they knew that, and they knew that he knew that. As long as he didn't show his nerves, he could handle this.
"Adrien! Can you comment of your relationship with Marinette Dupain-Cheng?"
"Mr. Agreste! Is it true that you and your girlfriend left Paris because your father didn't approve of your relationship?"
"Mr. Agreste-"
"I am not taking questions right now," Adrien said, cutting them off before they could really get going and attract any more attention than they already were. His voice carried easily enough over the clamor of the reporters, much to his surprise, and it also sounded disturbing similar to his father's. He let his eyes scan over the crowd, trying to figure out who exactly was there. He had spent an hour the previous night reviewing the lists Nathalie had sent so he could identify which reporters he should and should not talk to. It hadn't been enjoyable, but it had (rather unfortunately) been necessary. Unlike in Paris, where he knew all of the reporters on sight, Adrien wasn't familiar with the British tabloids at all.
"But Mr. Agreste-"
"I'll talk to one person," Adrien said firmly. "And not now. I have classes I need to be in right now."
The reporters didn't look particularly happy. One- someone who Adrien recognized from Nathalie's 'do-not-talk-to-under-any-circumstances' list- was more vocal than the others. "But this is important! Other things can wait-"
"I beg to differ," Adrien shot right back, letting his tone grow frosty. "My education is far more important than providing gossip to a bunch of tabloid reporters about my friend and I. Now if you'll excuse me, I have places to be and so do the other students."
With that, he strode forward briskly, sending reporters scattering as he did. Adrien kept a carefully neutral expression on his face- if he looked annoyed, the reporters (if he could even call them that) would no doubt interpret it as annoyance that his so-called "top-secret relationship" had been discovered. As he passed the last reporter in the group, he paused and turned halfway, making eye contact with the one reporter that had shown up that Nathalie had approved of.
"Madam Addison, I'll speak with you later. The rest of you needn't stick around."
And then he was gone.
  As soon as he was settled in his next class, Adrien pulled out his phone to text Marinette. She had already said that she wasn't going to speak with reporters- and Adrien believed her, she was definitely strong enough to not crack under the pressure of dozens of reporters crowding around and throwing questions at her- but it wouldn't hurt to give her a heads-up. If she wanted to go out for lunch, she might find herself surrounded by pesky tabloid reporters.
"You did good," Plagg commented as Adrien sent his message. "Did you learn that from your father?"
"From Father and Nathalie," Adrien admitted, keeping his voice hushed. He could tell that there were more eyes on him than normal, so he had to be extra-careful. "And you know that Ladybug and I had to deal with the press all the time before we defeated Hawkmoth."
"They didn't bug you about your personal relationships, though."
"They did, actually. They asked if we were dating. And when we said no, they asked if we were dating other people. And somehow they thought that they would get a different answer if they asked a dozen times a year." Actually, it was more like five dozen times a year by the time they defeated Hawkmoth. He could have understood it if it was all different people asking- both reporters and kids, for example- but the question came from the same small handful of reporters nearly every time.
Thankfully Alya had only asked once and then let it be. Adrien suspected that she had noticed the looks of irritation on both Ladybug's and Chat Noir's faces when they got the question from others and decided that there was no point in probing them further. After all, she already got the scoops and seemed to be on Ladybug's good side when it came to getting interviews. There was no point in risking driving the superhero duo away by irritating them with probing questions about their love life or lack thereof.
Adrien's phone buzzed quietly and he checked it. Apparently Madam Rosalie had already chased away several reporters that were poking around, and Marinette had brought her own lunch in anticipation of the problem so she wouldn't have to go outside until the end of the day. There still might be an issue of particularly persistent reporters hanging around to pester her on her way back to her flat- and good lord, they were probably going to make a bigger deal out of the fact that Adrien and Marinette were neighbors than it really was- and if he went to escort her for the few blocks between the Rosalie's Fashion building and their building so that she wouldn't be making the walk alone and followed by harassing reporters, they would make a huge deal out of that as well.
Perhaps she could walk home with several of her co-workers, since several others lived in the same building. They could keep the reporters from crowding in too much. Adrien texted the suggestion to Marinette and then put his phone away before anyone decided to make a big deal out of him texting Marinette and then go trotting to the press to get their two seconds of fame.
He didn't want to think badly of any of his classmates, really, but he just didn't know all of them well enough to be positive that they wouldn't do such a thing. Besides, tabloid reporters sometimes offered money for information and, well, uni students and money...
As he waited for class to start, Adrien mentally reviewed what he was going to say in his interview. It wasn't as though he was trying to come up with some sort of cover story that he would have to keep straight or anything, it was just that he knew that it could be overwhelming to have to answer questions under pressure and have his answers come out in ways that couldn't be misconstrued, especially since he would be doing the interview in English, not French. If he knew what he was going to say in advance, there was less of a chance that he would be left fumbling for the right words to answer a question.
Even if the woman he was going to be talking to was one of the more reasonable reporters in the gossip business, Adrien wasn't particularly inclined to trust them not to blow things out of proportion if given the chance.
Class went too fast, and then he was leaving again. There would doubtless be more than just the one reporter waiting outside- they would be looking for reactions to their questions, even if he didn't actually answer anything verbally. It was annoying- really annoying- but at least he was prepared for it.
Well. Somewhat, at least. He hoped.
Half an hour later, Adrien had managed to dodge the questions from the still-lingering reporters and was on his way to Madam Addison's studio in her car. The woman was clearly thrilled to be granted the exclusive interview, but she was doing her best to remain in check. For his part, Adrien was trying to keep the nerves from showing.
Yes, it had been a good idea to get the whole circus off campus. If he wanted the whole thing to blow over, he had to keep the visible fuss to a minimum. Magazines on a rack could be ignored; a horde of reporters obstructing the doorway to the academic buildings could not. Still, they were definitely moving onto Madam Addison's ground now, and he couldn't just walk away from her questions like he had with the other reporters.
"We've arrived!" the driver announced as they pulled up to a building, and Madam Addison sprung out, waving Adrien out as well. She steered him into the news building and up the stairs, past staring workers and whispering interns. They ended up in Madam Addison's office, where she settled in her chair behind her desk and gestured for Adrien to sit in the chair opposite of her desk. The cameraman- well, camera lady- sat in another chair and turned her camera on.
"So, Adrien," Madam Addison started. "All through last week, you were spotted looking cozy with an intern from Rosalie Fashions during Fashion Week. It raised a lot of questions, but let's begin with the start of last week. You ended up replacing a Rosalie model very last minute."
"I did. I went into Rosalie Fashions on Friday around noon and found out that they had just gotten word that one of their male models had been in a car accident and would be unable to walk the runway. Since I've had experience walking the runway and was pretty much the same size, it was an obvious choice for me to step into his place."
Madam Addison's eyebrows rose. "And you just happened to be going to Rosalie Fashions... why? To visit a special friend, perhaps? A girlfriend?"
"To visit a friend," Adrien corrected. "Marinette gets very focused and forgets to eat sometimes, especially during crunch times such as the lead-up to Fashion Week, so I went to bring her lunch."
"That is a very boyfriend-like move, many would say."
Adrien shrugged. He wasn't going to get defensive, because he knew how that could be- would be- read. "Perhaps to some people. I'd do the same thing for my other friends if they were stressed and I had time to visit...and if we were in the same country," Adrien added. He knew full well that without the qualifier, he would have people trying to tail him to see if he actually visited anyone else with lunch, never mind that it should be obvious that the majority of his friends would be back in Paris.
"If you say so." Madam Addison glanced down at her notepad. "So that explains why you replaced a model last-minute, but then you were spotted throughout the week together."
"Marinette and I are friends," Adrien pointed out again. "We've known each other since collège. And friends, y'know, customarily hang out with each other. I had the week off, so I decided to spend it with Marinette instead of just hanging out alone in my apartment."
"But surely you've seen enough fashion shows in your life, for someone who isn't interested in fashion?"
"I'm interested in fashion," Adrien corrected again. He wasn't quite sure where this perception had come from that he wasn't interested in fashion. Maybe he wasn't crazy gung-ho about it, but it wasn't as though it bored him all the time. "I'm not one for designing, but I do enjoy looking at the finished product." A stretch, maybe- he could get tired of looking at the finished products, especially when they were old, rehashed ideas or just a little too weird- but it was close enough that the little white lie could slide.
Madam Addison was looking as though the interview was perhaps not going quite the way she had hoped, but she pressed on. "So you claim that there isn't anything of a romantic nature going on between you and Marinette, and yet we have photos of you throughout the week acting very much like a boyfriend...or something more." She pulled a stack of photos out from an envelope and spread them in front of Adrien. He leaned forward, interested, and then had to quench the urge to roll his eyes because really? They were really going to make a big deal about him filling Marinette's water bottle and getting a wrap for her to eat?
They were reaching, but then again, when were they not? There wouldn't be any news for the tabloids to sell if they didn't make up some of their own.
"Running errands, practically being plastered to her side throughout the week, giving her your suit jacket, cuddling, and-" she pulled out her last photo. "- a kiss."
"On the cheek," Adrien pointed out immediately. "We're French. It's a thing."
"I was rather under the impression that cheek kisses were for hellos and goodbyes, not while waiting for fashion shows to start."
Adrien mentally swore. He should have known that the reporter wouldn't let that slip past her that easily. But he could play that game too. He lounged comfortably in his chair, looking as comfortable and un-ruffled as could be. Sometimes model training came in handy. "I wasn't aware that cheek kisses came with rules."
Madam Addison laughed at that before turning her attention back to the photos. "Fine, then. A friendly cheek kiss. And what about these other pictures, then?"
"Workers really don't have the time to step away and get things to eat or drink before or when the runway show they're involved with is going," Adrien said, pushing the first two photos to the side. "Or directly after the show finishes, for that matter, because they have to clean up their backstage space and move out in time for the next designer to set up. So I decided to be helpful and run a few errands so that Marinette wouldn't get dehydrated or hungry." He moved to the next few photos. "And there's so many people at Fashion Week that if you go there with someone and don't stick to their side, you'll lose them pretty fast."
"You really do have an explanation for everything," Madam Addison said, sounding less than impressed. "And the jacket and the cuddling?"
Adrien couldn't help the smile. "Well, there was a fairly obvious answer to all of your questions. As for the jacket and the cuddling, it was a bit on the chilly side in the runway room that morning, and Marinette had a light top on, so I gave her my jacket."
"Just like a boyfriend would. Or a husband."
She just wasn't giving up, was she? And what was with those husband comments? "My parents raised me to be a gentleman, and a gentleman doesn't let a lady freeze."
His father would appreciate that comment, if he ever saw it. Of course, it had been his mother and not his father who had been the one to teach him manners, but details like that didn't really matter to Gabriel.
"And then a gentleman tries to squish a lady by hugging her?"
"Well, then I was cold, and she was a wonderful source of heat." Adrien shrugged. "We've been friends for forever, and we joke around sometimes. Occasionally that ends up with us acting a little ridiculous."
"My sources said that you and your friend live in the same building, just across the hall from each other," Madam Addison said, collecting her photos again before sitting back in her chair. "Normally friends don't go to the effort of getting flats right next to each other."
Adrien couldn't help but laugh at that.
"That was actually a complete coincidence, actually," Adrien admitted with a grin. "The building has a lot of Madam Rosalie's interns and workers living there, since it's so close to their workplace. And I didn't actually select where I was going to live- I know it sounds awful, but my father's secretary actually found the place for me. I had no idea that Marinette was even in the same part of town, let alone the same building." That they had just happened to be neighbors was still nothing short of a miracle. "And then I accidentally ran right into her as I was leaving my flat on my first day in London. She had been here for a couple months already, so it was great to have a friend here who could show me around."
"Do you explore the city together as well?"
"Of course, when we both have the time." There was no point in denying it. If he did and then the paparazzi saw them traveling places together, they would make a bigger deal about it than if he just admitted it outright. "It's much more fun to see the sights with someone else. She sees things that I don't, and I see things she doesn't. And sometimes the she wants to go somewhere I wouldn't have gone on my own, and then we both end up having a great time."
"So we're likely to see the two of you out and about together," Madam Addison filled in. "Now, there was one other burning question we all had. There was a wedding advertisement a few months ago that, I think, largely flew under our radar. I think everyone in London has seen it now. It features you and Marinette as the bride and groom, surrounded by what my sources say are her coworkers."
"It was a very fun photoshoot," Adrien said with a smile.
"Yes, it looked fun. But I think people were wondering why the models for the shoot were such a mix. I understand that having normal-sized people in photoshoots is a hot new trend- and a welcome one!- but this shoot had a bunch of normal men and women and a single supermodel. It was an odd mix."
"It was," Adrien acknowledged, but he didn't say anything further. He didn't particularly feel like digging himself into a hole with the wedding photoshoot. It was better to get a feel for how much Madam Addison knew before he gave away too much accidentally.
"And even more recently, other photos have popped up," Madam Addison continued. "And the most interesting of the photos was this one." She held up the photo of Adrien dipping Marinette and kissing her full on the lips.
Adrien couldn't help the impish smirk that danced across his lips. He shouldn't have been smiling, really- as far as photos went, that was pretty damning- but at least he looked pretty cool.
"And only this morning, I learned about a video that was taken during the so-called photoshoot," Madam Addison continued when she didn't get the response she wanted out of Adrien. "We have the highlights of the video compiled here." With that, she turned her laptop around so Adrien could see it. It was short and focused on the vows, the signing of the "official" paper, and the kiss.
"So we seem to have fairly definitive proof that you and Marinette are married," Madam Addison finished, with a wide grin at the camera. "And the photoshoot was used as a cover-up so your father didn't find out."
So much for the photoshoot cover. Clearly someone had leaked the video.
"Well, it would have been a bit pointless as a cover-up, since I posted that video to my Facebook," Adrien said, letting his smirk slip onto his face. Honesty was probably the best policy here. It was a prank, and it was a prank that people would probably find pretty funny. "My father was meant to see it."
Madam Addison's brows shot up. "Is this a confession? You're actually married?"
"No, not at all. The wedding thing was one part photoshoot, one part prank." He flashed a winning grin at the camera. "I felt as though I wasn't being trusted to not make any bad decisions while I was studying here in London, so when the opportunity for a wedding photoshoot popped up right after I arrived in London, I hopped on it." He pulled out his phone and opened his Facebook, scrolling downward. The actual posts would confirm his story. "We then extended the basic photoshoot to make it look like an actual wedding, and then I pranked my father by claiming I had just met someone and immediately gotten married." He handed his phone over to Madam Addison so she could see the screen. He could only hope that she wouldn't take the opportunity to try to go through the rest of his phone. There wasn't anything particularly incriminating on there, but the more information tabloid reporters had, the more they could take out of context.
"Oh, this is hilarious," Madam Addison chortled, laughing as she scanned the photos. "You really pranked your father? Your father, Gabriel Agreste?"
"It was fun," Adrien said with a grin. "Madam Rosalie was 100% behind it, which was great. And we only told the people involved and Marinette's family. All of our friends got pranked as well, and their reactions were hilarious."
"For those who are wondering, the earliest post here says, 'Just ran into her yesterday and we decided we had to get married' and it has a whole album of photos from the wedding," Madam Addison said. She scrolled up. "The next one has the full video and says, 'Some wonderful people took a video of our special day so we could share it with everyone who wasn't there! Apologies for not inviting friends and family back in Paris, but we just couldn't wait!' You were really laying it on thick there, weren't you?" Madam Addison asked with a laugh. "Very romantic."
"It worked better than I expected," Adrien admitted. "There were a lot of people who thought we were actually being serious."
"Including your father?"
"Including my father," Adrien confirmed. "And our friends seemed to believe us too, for some reason. They were ticked off that they weren't invited. We got quite a few texts from them complaining about it."
"Perhaps they believed you because they thought that you were already dating?" Madam Addison suggested. "Or that you should be dating?"
"I think it had more to do with the fact that they knew that we had known each other for years," Adrien said with a shrug. "But my father read the post like I meant for him to do, and so he thought that I had only known her for a day."
"That you had only- oh! 'Just ran into her yesterday and we decided we had to get married!' Very nice suggestive wording! I thought it was maybe a little awkward considering that you knew each other, but that makes sense!" Madam Addison was really laughing now. "And then here's your last post: 'Thanks to everyone who helped us pull off the impromptu wedding! In case you haven't already guessed, it was completely fake. I'm slightly concerned by how many people thought we weren't kidding though!' How many people thought you were serious?"
"Too many," Adrien admitted. "There were friends, there were models, there were other people that worked with me and for my father. I was really confused about why they thought that I would just up and marry someone I just met."
"So the photoshoot, then," Madam Addison said, composing herself again (a few more giggles slipped out anyway). "Was it originally meant to be all typical people plucked from the business?"
"I'm not sure," Adrien admitted. "It might have been. I never asked."
"And was Marinette originally supposed to be the 'bride' for the shoot?"
"She was the only person I knew would go along with my crazy plans to prank my dad," Adrien said with a grin. "And to be perfectly fair, she did try to talk me out of it at first. But I brought her around."
Madam Addison finally let out a somewhat defeated sigh. "So it sounds like you and this girl are great friends and partners in crime- or at least in pranks- and we'll see more of these kinds of interactions between you two. You're going to drive all of the gossip reporters insane, you know."
Adrien shrugged. He knew that. He also didn't care, unless his father really thought it was necessary for Adrien to make a statement every time some reporter decided to make a fuss about his and Marinette's friendship. Then it would just be irritating.
"Well, you'll keep things interesting, at least. You do know that people will keep seeing a relationship between the two of you- a romantic relationship?"
"They're trying too hard to see something, then," Adrien said simply. There was nothing else to say about it. "They're just making a mountain out of a molehill."
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thesouthkoreayears · 5 years ago
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Monday, June 15
Bottom photo: our entire journey from today, we drove south to north.
We woke up in our coastal Ulsan Airbnb, packed up quickly and walked down to the shore line right outside our door. By 8am, the boys were being sprinkled with sea water and the crabs and wharf roaches (yes, water cockroaches - I KNOW) scurried from our midst. Julian brought over Max’s new bug catcher and we scooped up the tide pool water to see all the tiny creatures living there. Both of them loved being by the water and were so sad to go. No matter how much I reassure them that the majority of this trip is about water and beach time, they are devastated when we have to leave. Moses keeps asking me “where is the road trip? what is the road trip?”...it’s a suuuuper fun question to answer over, and over, and over, and over again.
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Around 8:45, we headed north - off to Pohang! The boys have slept less than normal so far and both of them were snoozing in the car by 9am. It was the only nap they took! We snaked our way slowly up the coast line, looking for somewhere to get coffee. Of course, everything we passed was closed. Around 10:30 we spotted Cafe Lucia! It was on the tiny beach of Guryongpo and we took a break from driving to play in the sand and drink coffee. The boys got to play with sand toys for the first time this summer and they were thrilled. Moses worked very hard to build pyramids (I guess the Egypt obsession Max is going through has rubbed off on him) and Max and I found rainbow shells along the beach. Then back in the car we went to finish our drive to Pohang!
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We arrive in Homigot Sunrise Square (호미곶 해맞이광장) at 11:30am but we didn’t make it in for real to see the famous hand in the water until over an hour later. First it was a break to eat lunch out of the cooler - ham and cheese sandwiches, chips and hummus, babybel cheese and popcorn. When we finished lunch, we set out to the souvenir shop to search for some pins for our backpacks which were promptly found. Then Max had to poop. Then Moses had to poop. Then we had to walk back to the car for the stroller. On and on it went until we finally made it down the path. The hands were quite a sight to see. There wasn’t much else to do in the area but it was well worth the visit. The story behind the area was interesting to learn about too. The sunrise time in Homigot on January 1 is at 7:32 am, making it the earliest first sunrise of each year in Korea. Sangsaeng’s Hand, the two-part bronze sculpture shaped like a pair of hands, was constructed in December 1999. The left hand is on the land and the right hand is in the ocean. It was built to give the message that all people are living together by helping one another like “Sangsaeng” (“coexistence” in Korean). These two hands were built to memorialize reconciliation and coexistence to celebrate the new millennium.
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We left Pohang around 1:15 to drive an hour to the Daewonsa temple (대원사), near Chilpo (칠포) beach. The temple is somewhat remote and was completely empty upon arrival. Not a soul was in sight and it was a bit eerie. I found the temple on Atlas Obscura and wanted to check it out because the entrance to the buddha shrine inside is over a bridged koi pond and through a dragon’s mouth! It’s the only one in Korea (and I think the world? Someone correct me) but we only spent a few minutes out of the car to see it because Max was creeped out. I think the emptiness of the place started to bother him and he did not like all the tiny golden buddha statues. We piled back in the car, stopped at CU (the iconic green and purple convenience store) to grab water and my favorite summer thirst quencher - Trevi lime sparkling water. We turned on Ponyo for the kids and Julian drove the last two hours up the coast. There were so many rocky cliffs and tiny pebble beaches scattered along the route, most of them barely inhabited. It seemed like there was quite a bit of construction though, so maybe in a few short years some of those remote areas will be overrun with more people like us ;)
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We arrived at Jangho Beach (장호) at 5pm and immediately went to play in the water and pebbly sand. The kids got wet in their clothes and built more pyramids and generally just enjoyed the water. They are typically well behaved but especially on the beach - so happy that they have each other to play with. I walked over to the CU (they are everywhere) and grabbed two Kloud beers and Julian and I enjoyed them immensely. Max and I looked for more sea glass and wandered around, there were less than a dozen people on the entire beach.
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When our bellies couldn’t wait another minute, we packed up, changed the boys out of their wet clothes and found a fried chicken place down the street to eat dinner around 7pm. I had a very interesting gorgonzola cheese pizza with raisins and walnuts (it was quite good!) and the boys all devoured the fried chicken. Moses hugged the owner/cook after dinner because he loved the food so much. 
We stayed at Samcheok Play Pension (much more wholesome than the name might suggest) and arrived around 8pm, just in time to watch the rooftop sunset. Max found a huge black beetle (it was very dead) as he explored the roof. We checked out his huge pinchers and then Julian promptly flicked it off the rooftop into the street below. Oh, and in case you’re wondering. A pension is a type of accommodation for travelers in Korea. Typically, it’s ondol sleeping arrangements (we used an air mattress because I can’t handle floor sleeping) and a kitchen and that’s just about it. They’re popular in Korea because you can fit a lot of family members into one sleeping area. Our pension only had four rooms and we were the only people staying there. 
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Listened to: Tame Impala, Little Dragon, Stef’s discover weekly playlist (it’s always better than ours)
Miles driven - still no idea. I’m writing them down on a scrap of paper in the car and I’m going to eventually do the math and update all the posts :)
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graysonpuzzle · 7 years ago
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Demons Within
Note: just edited this chapter. I feel like this is the chapter that really sets up what I plan to write and the first three chapters were more fun to get to know Grayson and see her relationship with the main guys on the show start out (Sam and Dean obviously). Nothing too crazy in terms of warnings, just language, possession, some car stuff. If you read, Thanks and enjoy!
THE PUZZLE CHAPTER FOUR
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March 30th, 1996
"Grandpa. what is this?" I ask, holding up a newspaper headlining 'Local Psychic Found Dead.'
He walks over and snatches it from my hand, "Nothing, stay out of that box." I don't listen and look through all the other papers, a lot of them dating back pretty far.
"What are these?" I ask again, ignoring his previous order.
"Grayson Renee, I told you to stop looking through those."
"These are all deaths, who are these people?" I persist, my 13 year old self as curious as ever.
He lets out a long sigh, fed up with my curiosity, "Those are your late relatives, both your mom and dad's sides."
I continue flipping through the papers as he continues talking. "I just wanted to keep them all just in case." He takes the box away and leaves the room.
Later that night, before bed I try to ask him about those newspapers again. "Grandpa?"
"What, Grayson?" He asks, by his tone I can tell he's irritated by something. I walk further into the room to ask him.
"I really want to know about those papers, I barely know anything about our family, except for you and mom and dad."
"Grayson, I don't want to talk about this, and if you ask me about it again I will add another 5 miles to your morning route."
"But-"
"One more time and I'll send you off to hunt some wendigo. Stop." He knows wendigos are my least favorite, I've been scared of them since he took me on a hunt when I was 9. Ever since then he's used them as a punishment.
"Sorry," I say and walk out of the kitchen.
"Grayson," he starts and I think hes about to say something to make me feel better but then he says, "Don't forget to get up early for that extra 5 miles." Why was I surprised?
January 7th, 2007
After days of searching and searching, I finally find something that might help me figure out why I'm being targeted by Mindy in one of the old boxes my grandpa keeps my moms things in. The address is attached to the name Rita, and its the only address in all of Mom's things, so it must be important.
I find the address in a small town only a couple hours away. At first I'm not sure if its right, because the address on the paper matches one outside of a psychic reading place, but then I realize that's not out of the ordinary for my job.
I park across the street and cross the road to the small shop. I walk in to find bright colored beads on the door and even more vibrant curtains hanging everywhere. The bell on top of the door rings and I stop to take in the place.
"Hello?" I call. I move further into the colorful mess and almost trip on a rug, "Is anyone here?"
There's a single doorway with another set of beads hanging from the frame, I look over my shoulder and keep walking. The hall is very narrow with only three doors. I walk into the first room on the right and see a crystal ball in the middle of the room. I walk to it and put my hand on it.
"Grayson, dont touch that," A woman's voice says behind me.
I jump and turn around to face a curvy dark woman, who I'm guessing is Rita.
"Sorry. Are you- Rita?" I ask, putting my hands in my back pockets.
"Yes." She replies simply.
"Wait how do you know my name?" I ask.
"How do you know mine?" She counters.
"I was looking in my moms stuff and your name and this address were circled, I was wondering if you could help me," I explain.
"Oh, that demon told you to look up your history, of course I can help you!"
"How do you know-"
"Did you read the sign outside? I'm a psychic, and I've been keeping my mind on you lately." Well that's not creepy.
"Did you know my mom, Elizabeth Reed?" I ask and she gestures for me to sit in a plush chair by the crystal ball.
"Yeah, she was a good friend of mine, she is the one that wanted me to keep an eye on you for her if something happened." And something did happen, but why am I meeting her just now then?
"Because your stubborn grandpa wouldn't let me near you!" she huffs, " Lets just get to business. Give me your hands." I do and she closes her eyes.
"How will this help me?"
"Shh."
I stop talking and sit in silence while she does whatever shes doing.
"You are so brave, but hot headed and my- very impulsive, so much that you've almost gotten yourself killed many times. But you are also very strategic and analytical. That's it, you let your feelings get the best of you. Now lets look at whats ahead for you- Ooh! Some attractive young men, and- oh my god-"
"What? What is it?"
Her eyes snap towards me and she speaks, "It's like a puzzle that came without all the pieces. Listen to me now: You are almost put together, but the last piece you've been looking for will come at a very high price. You've been solving this puzzle without even knowing it. Putting it all together on your own, but this last, most important piece you will need help with. I will emphasize that this piece...it will cost you greatly."
"Wha- what are you-?" I start, confused.
"I'm sorry, but these visions come so fast and short, but just enough so I can sort it out."
"So what do you mean by puzzle? Am I going to die?" I ask.
"Well, everyone's gonna die!" She laughs, "But, my vision wasn't very pleasant. I think it means that your time is coming a little sooner than planned. And the puzzle pieces I saw symbolize you putting yourself together."
"I didn't know I was broken," I say solemnly and look to the floor. She notices and changes the subject.
"Want to try me?" She asks, and I'm utterly confused.
"I'm sorry, what?"
"Try reading me, it doesn't have to be the future, just look at me and tell me what you know." She urges.
I take a deep breath and look at her, Grandpa did teach me how to tell when people were lying. Maybe that's similar.
"I think, you know a lot of hunters, but aren't one. Um...that you...like...cats?" I suck.
She laughs, "your Grandpa spent so much time training you physically and mentally, but he couldn't take some of it to teach you to read people? God that man was crazy."
"I didn't know being a psychic was something you could learn," I state.
"It's not, but anyone can learn body language, I mean those analysis people in the FBI can do it, so why can't you?"
I give her an awkward look, "how do you know about my training?"
"Well, first off I knew your grandpa, and second, just reading you I can tell you've been through a lot, both physically and mentally. I'm guessing he worked you to death."
"Well he-"
"Don't be modest dear, if you saw other hunters I've met, their skills would seem like child's play compared to yours. He worked you hard and for a long time, how old were you?"
"When he started training me? About 7 or 8." I reply. I think she's just trying to be nice, there are tons of hunters that are better than me.
"I'm not trying to be nice, I mean it. There's maybe a dozen other hunters I know that have the same amount of abilities you do, and fewer that use the ones they have correctly."
I talk to Rita for hours, about anything and everything that comes up. For some reason I feel really comfortable around her, which is weird because it takes me a long time to warm up to people, but I just want to hug her and bake her some cookies.
Around 8 at night I finally ask about my family, see if she knows anything.
"I was wondering when you'd ask," she takes In a breath like she's about to tell a long story. I scrunch my legs up on the couch next to me and sip the hot chocolate she made me.
"You come from a very long line of powerful people. And I mean, powerful. I think you are related to some amazons, demons, witches, psychics, monsters, prophets, men of letters members, and of course, a very long line of hunters."
"Ok wait what? What the hell is men of letters and aren't amazons like goddesses? I thought they killed the father of their kid and took it away." This is a head rush, how the hell is it possible to have that much in my blood?
"Well actually, I think the Amazon broke away from tradition and took the baby, then raised it and eventually the Amazon blood thinned over generations. So don't worry, I don't think you have any weird powers of theirs," Rita assures me.
"I still don't understand why this demon- Mindy- is after me, she says it's because of my family and because she thinks I'll get in the way of plans she has or something."
"I don't understand either, but honestly, who wouldn't be threatened by a hunter with all that history behind her name? With that kind of blood you're bound to be powerful."
"But why did she kill my parents and my grandma and-" I start but she interrupts me.
"Maybe these plans she's talking about have something directly to do with your family, a contract or something," she guesses and sets her coffee cup on the table.
I look at the time on my phone, it's almost 9, if I want to get home I need to leave and start on the two hour drive. I look at Rita, not sure how to politely say I need to leave.
"It's alright, I understand, just keep in touch with me okay sweetie?" She hugs me and walks me out the door.
I walk out to the street and she calls out from the door, "I want you to have this!" She tosses me a bracelet and I catch it in my hand, "just to keep me with you, I'll protect you even when I'm not there."
"Thanks Rita!" I call out and get into my car. She walks back into her shop and I examine the bracelet. It's a thin purple material and has beads with markings I don't recognize, I'll ask her about them next time I talk to her. I put the bracelet on my right wrist and start the car.
While driving down the highway I keep one hand on the wheel and play with a bracelet with my other hand. There's barely any other cars driving at this time so I go over the speed limit at about 90 mph. I drive some more and a car finally appears in front of me. They get over to the left lane and I speed up to pass them. But when I'm right next to them, they speed up too. I look over to some guy about my age smiling like a crazy person.
Nobody is around, so if he wants to race, then why not?
I slam my foot on the gas and get ahead of him. He catches up and starts driving closer to me. I try to speed away again, but he keeps up to my pace. Every second I get closer to falling off the shoulder into a ditch. I start honking my horn at him, but he smiles again and his eyes go black. I should've known better. I slam my car into his to get a spot on the road. No matter how much I try to speed away, he manages to keep up. The only option left is to slow down. I wait for the right moment and take my foot off the pedal, leaving him to keep going while I fall back.
He does half a donut and his car faces mine. I don't back off the gas and keep going forward. He starts driving towards me too. Looks like he wants to play chicken. I'll just drive straight at him until the last minute then swerve out of the way. My heart races more and more the closer I get. I let off the gas a little and get ready to dart out of the way. I turn the wheel as fast as I can but its like he read my mind and swerves his car into mine, crashing into the side of the front hood. My air bag goes out and I try to get control of the car. Before I know it, my car rolls into the ditch at the side of the highway.
I open my eyes and everything is upside down. I unbuckle my seat belt and crawl through the shattered drivers side window.
"Man, that was fun." A man's voice says, I look up and its the demon I was racing. Ha, I guess he's a speed demon.
"It'll be even more fun when I send you back to hell," I spit, standing up.
"It'll be pretty hard to exorcise yourself don't you think?" He asks, walking towards me.
"What the hell are you talking about?" Just then he opens his mouth to release a black cloud.
"Shit." I say and try to run while feeling for my anti possession necklace. I don't make it even two feet before I lose control of my own body and feel someone else in my head.
The demon walks my body into the roadhouse. It's late, and there's barely anyone there. It sits me down on one of the stools of the bar and waits there. Finally, Jo walks out from the back and looks surprised to see anyone.
"Hey Grayson, didn't think I'd see you here, do you need something?" She asks while drying out some cups with a rag.
The demon reaches into my belt for a pistol very slowly and replies, "yeah actually," he pulls it out to aim at her, "I want to see you dead."
Jo is startled and backs away, "what are you-"
In my voice, the demon cuts her off, "where's that bitch mother of yours?"
A gun clicks behind my possessed body. Ellen. "Right here. Now you put that gun down or I will shoot." They can't tell I'm possessed and watching everything, not able to stop it.
Quickly, my body turns and the handle of the pistol hits Ellen in the forehead, leaving a trace of blood in her hairline. I--the demon--hits her in the temple this time, knocking her out.
She turns her attention back to Jo, who is still unarmed behind the counter.
"Well now that she's out of the way-" the demon starts but is cut off by Jo.
"What do you want? I thought you were a hunter."
"I am. But just because we have similar jobs doesn't mean I have to like you. Ha! You'd be lucky if you're alive when I walk out of here." It states and aims the gun lower. She shoots her in the foot.
"OW YOU BITCH!" Jo yells and falls to the ground. It walks behind the bar to stand above her.
"Night night." She says and hits her with the gun like she did to Ellen.
The demon ties Ellen and Jo up to chairs with some chains. She paces around, waiting for them to wake up on their own. When they start waking, she sits down in a chair right in front of them, elbows on knees and hands on cheeks.
"I don't get it, why are you doing this?" Ellen asks. Speed Demon just laughs in her face.
"Because I can." It states simply, stealing my voice.
"You bitch, when someone finds out there's gonna be-" Jo starts.
"Gonna be what? You think I can't handle some amateur hunters? I'm in the big leagues and you're just some bitches who run a bar to serve the weak hunters I can kill with my bare hands." The words come out menacing, the demonic personality showing through.
"What about those boys you were just hunting with? The Winchester boys, Sam and Dean. Or Bobby Singer, Rachel Lance, I can list off a lot of hunters who can take you on, hon," Ellen states with a straight face, looking me dead in the eyes.
Speed Demon smiles, "listen, if you want to call them, fine. You'll be dead by the time anyone comes."
It pulls out my cellphone and calls Bobby. It rings a few times but then someone on the other end picks up.
"Hello?"
"Hey Bobby, it's Grayson, I have Ellen and Jo with me and they want to talk to you." He puts the phone to Ellen's ear after turning it to speaker.
"Bobby. We need help now, we're tied up and we aren't getting out anytime soon- just- " The demon pulls the phone away and speaks to Bobby.
"So if you wanna come, were at the roadhouse, don't be long, I don't plan on staying too late." My voice states over the phone and hangs up.
"Grayson, I just don't understand why you're doing this," Ellen says, trying to look me in the eyes, not knowing that when she looks into my eyes a demon is staring back at her.
"Ellen Harvelle," My body says, then turns her head to Jo, "and Jo Harvelle. Maybe you don't understand because you're incompetent, but there's not a reason for everything."
"What are you going to do to us?" Jo asks, putting on a tough face. I feel my mouth grin wickedly.
"I'm gonna torture you a bit, maybe tell you some stories and leave your bodies here before anyone can catch me," he states, twirling a knife in my hand.
He takes the knife and holds it to Jo's throat, "or how about I just kill you right now?"
"Don't touch her!" Ellen yells and the knife is pulled from Jo's neck.
"Oh, look. Your mommy is coming to the rescue- it's funny because you're both at my mercy right now. What are you going to do Ellen? Nag me to death about how disappointed my parents would've been?" Speed Demon asks.
She walks to stand in front of Ellen, whose eyes are like daggers, "no, but maybe he can."
I feel the demon give a look of confusion as Ellen nods forward. Before my body can turn around, something hits me in the back of the head, making my whole body stumble forward almost landing on Ellen.
The demon turns me to face Bobby. "Glad you could make it. That was fast."
"I was working on something not too far from here," Bobby replies as if having normal conversation.
Without a moments notice, the demon kicks Bobby in the stomach, sending him backwards into a table. He stalks over to him and he raises a gun. My body stops, the demon acting how he thinks I would.
"What happened to that car I gave you? It's not out there," Bobby says.
"Nothing worth telling. Cut the small talk, let's get this over with so I can kill you." Just then Bobby's face gives away that he has an idea of what's going on, or he did the whole time.
"Alright you demonic asshole. Show yourself." Bobby orders and the demon acts confused, but Bobby won't back down.
He drops the act and smiles, making my eyes go black.
"That's what I thought." Bobby says and lowers his gun (thank god) knowing it would be useless and only hurt me.
"Give yourself a clap on the back, these two bitches would've gone forever without knowing," the demon says.
"What are you doing with her? There's no way this is a coincidental possession now is there?" Bobby asks.
The demon smiles again, "Bobby Singer, you just know everything now don't you? Grayson here doesn't even know about that."
"She doesn't need to know. I made a promise and I will keep it." Bobby answers, slowly creeping his way to standing position across from my possessed form.
"Wow. Such a stand up guy. I bet Grayson would love to know you were keeping that from her." Bobby creeps his hand into his back pocket, the demon barely noticing. He pulls out a flask or holy water.
He opens the lid with one hand behind his back and with one, quick and solid movement, the water splashes into my face. The scream hurts Bobby's ears as he goes to get Ellen and Jo free from their bindings. He manages to free Jo first by the time my possessed body recovers from the holy water and lunges at them. Bobby holds her off while Jo works to free her mother.
My hands grasp Bobby's arms and the force throws him to the ground on his back. Speed Demon pins him down with my knees and begins punching him until blood flows from his nose and mouth and covers the lower half of his face. When he starts choking on his own blood, it gets off of him and wipes the blood off of my hands and onto my jeans. He turns to find Ellen free and Jo missing completely.
"Try to let Jo save herself?" The demon mocks with a soft tone, keeping eye contact while moving towards the nearest table.
"Don't worry about her, come on, I can take you." Ellen challenges and the demon can't seem to resist and smiles an asshole smile.
"No problem," It states and picks up one of the chairs by the table and hits Ellen straight over the head with it, knocking her body to the ground limp.
After the blow, something hard hits my body across the back; its Jo with an old shotgun.
Demon boy sits up on my elbows and spits blood before talking, "You sneaky bitch." He wipes the blood off my face with the back of my hand and stands.
"I'll give that one to you, blondie, I didn't see that coming," my voice says gravelly.
"Too bad you won't be able to see that," Jo says and something else knocks my body off balance, Bobby. Jo grabs me and drags me behind the bar, where a devils trap was made. That's where Jo disappeared to.
They try to throw the demon in the circle, but it manages to free my right arm and and connects it to Jo's nose. He gets free and grabs Jo by the back of the neck and slams her head into the bar. He then turns to Bobby, who picked up Jo's shotgun.
"What, did you decide shes not worth saving anymore?" The demon taunts.
"Shooting someone doesn't always mean killing," Bobby replies.
"Do it, then. Make her feel pain, you're just making my job easier," the demon says with a smug smile.
"What job?"
"Well, its obvious that you know about Grayson's situation here. You know demons killing off her whole family, Mindy coming to finally end the bloodline. Shes my boss, and my job is to make Grayson suffer as much as possible before she comes for her," the demon explains.
"This has gone on long enough, your boss already took more than she bargained for. Daniel told me that much," Bobby spits.
"Are you really surprised that demons betrayed your friends family?" In one swift movement the demon kicks the shotgun out of Bobby's grip and then kicks him in the stomach.
"Well this has been fun, but I have to get going," Speed Demon says to the three hunters binded to a pole.
"Just wait, someone will find out I'm gone and will come after you and send your ass back to hell!" Bobby yells.
"Hunters come here all the time, someone will find us later and it won't be hard to find you," Ellen adds.
My demon just laughs and stares at them, "well that's the plan. I was actually thinking about going to your house Bobby."
"What could you possibly want to go to my house for?!"
"See, I'm a curious little demon and I want to see all the skeletons in your closet."
There's a beeping noise and the demon pulls my phone out of my pocket, "Look at that! Its time for me to go, bye bye!" the demon says and leaves the Roadhouse in my body.
After hearing the engine of a car roar away, Jo starts wiggling around to get out.
"What are you doing Jo?" Ellen asks.
"She left my phone in my pocket, I can feel it."
"The one closest to me?" Ellen asks.
"Yeah." Ellen reaches her tied hands towards Jo back pocket. She gets the phone and dials then puts it on speaker.
The demon uses my body to look around Bobby's house for the next couple hours. At one point it stops in front of a mirror to look at the person its occupying.
"It would be a shame if this meatsuit was wasted on another demon..if anything you should be grateful, not all demons keep their bodies this nice for so long," it says, knowing I can hear.
"Thanks for being such a nice demon," a voice says and it turns to find Bobby standing there with a gun aimed at him.
"Wanna shoot? Go ahead!"
"I bet Grayson will be so happy to find out you were keeping secrets from her and that you put a hole through her chest!"
"Who said I was going to shoot?" Bobby asks and swiftly slides to the side and Ellen comes from behind him and splashes holy water on me. My body let out a shriek in an unhuman way, and the water sizzles on my skin and burns the demon inside. Ellen keeps throwing more on whenever the previous throw wears off. Bobby yells for Jo, and she comes with another jug of holy water. Bobby pulls out some spray paint and starts drawing a devils trap on the wood floor.
Ellen begins running out of water and Jo comes closer to her mother and starts splashing the water in the my direction.
"STOP!" it screams, "I CAN KILL HER RIGHT NOW IF YOU DON'T STOP!"
Jo hesitates at this, giving the demon the opportunity it was looking for. It smacks the jug of water out of her hands and knocks her to the floor with a solid punch to the jaw.
"JO!" Ellen yells and starts towards her daughter.
Bobby grabs her by the arm to stop her, "finish the trap and I'll hold her off."
Ellen nods and takes the can of paint. Bobby stands between my body and Ellen.
"Just another old man trying to hold her back. How ironic is that?" the demon asks, playing.
"How ironic is what?" Bobby asks sourly.
"Well, I've been digging around in Grayson's head and it looks like she finally felt safe and that she wouldn't have to worry about liars once old Gramps died. Little did she know, a hunter that seemed so trustworthy was keeping secrets for him," it laughs.
"I was protecting her, it would've been even worse if she knew."
"She went to a psychic you know, one of her moms old friends. Even she didn't know--or just wouldn't tell."
Ellen finishes the trap and looks at Jo knocked out on the floor.
"Shes not dead, Harvelle," The demon states and looks past Bobby at her, "so you can stop making that ugly face."
Bobby lunges at me and knocks me to the ground. My possessed body lands beneath him. While Bobby holds me down, Ellen dashes across the room to grab the nearly empty jug of holy water. She douses me and then as the demon screams in pain, Bobby throws me into the Devils trap.
Bobby begins chanting in Latin and Ellen goes to Jo's side. My body shakes as the demon fights being evicted. At this point the demon yells anything to make Bobby stop, but he doesn't. Black smoke rises out of my mouth and leaves the house.
And my body falls to the floor.
I wake up feeling sore and tired and on someone's couch. I didn't realize how exhausting it was to be possessed. I sit up and recognize whose house I'm in--Bobby Singer's.
"Grayson?" Bobby asks.
"I'm awake," I reply and move the blanket off of my legs and go to the kitchen where Ellen and Jo are with Bobby.
"How are ya feelin?" Ellen asks.
"Sore. Tired. And a little mad." I say and cross my arms to glare at Bobby.
"What are you looking at me like that for?" Bobby asks, but I have a feeling he might know what I'm talking about.
"I might've forgotten most of it, but I think I heard some stuff I wasn't supposed to. How could you not tell me that you knew what was happening to me?"
Ellen and Jo walk out of the room and leave Bobby and I alone.
"Your grandpa thought it was the best way to protect you, and I agreed with him."
"Are you kidding me?! How in the hell would that protect me?!" I yell.
"The less you knew, the easier it kept you hidden from that demon."
"Oh that's bullshit. There is nothing worse than ignorance, and that's what you made me: ignorant. Maybe if I knew what was going on, I could've done something about it!"
"There's nothing you could've-"
"I'm not even talking about grandpa, I'm talking about everyone! MY PARENTS. MY GRANDMOTHER. NINA. CAMERON. AND WHO KNOWS WHO DIED BECAUSE THEY WERE CLOSE TO ME! SO YOU HAVE NO RIGHT TO HIDE THIS FROM ME!"
"Fine," he says and backs up to lean on the counter, "A long time ago, one of your ancestors a few generations back made a deal."
A shiver runs across my body and it must've been visible, since he stops. I nod to let him continue the story.
"Well, he made a deal, not some crossroads deal. A big one. He wanted to make the strongest and best of hunters, he wanted to mix in psychics, witches, Amazons, and anything else to make the perfect hunter; he basically asked for all the strengths of those things to go to his family, but without the monstrosities that came with it."
"I saw my moms friend Rita right before that bastard possessed me, she said that those kinds of people were all in my family."
"See, he wanted his family to be successful, but not necessarily himself. The demon that gave him the deal made it so that his kids and their kids would marry someone that wasn't the average hunter. I think his son married a witch, so his grandson could do magic, but wasn't fully a monster that others would hunt. That just kept repeating with different creatures."
"But I don't see how that would affect me that much, if it was only on one parents side," I add.
"That's another thing, one part of the deal was that one half of the family would be that way,and the other would be pure bred hunters, so that one day there will be an ultimate hunter at the end of the two lines. But you're --however many greats-- grandpa was stupid, and didn't really listen or didn't care about the demons conditions," Bobby explains, "That demon made it so that he could kill everyone involved with no problem."
"So what, he made a deal to make our family great, just so they can die whenever?" I ask.
"Well, your grandparents on your moms side managed to stay safe for a while, but as you know, it didn't last that long. Daniel told me all this when he thought they were coming after you two."
"Wait so I'm supposed to be some sort of super hunter?"
"That's what Daniel thought, since he married a medium, and then his daughter married the son of all that monster lineage."
I don't even know how to process this. So I'm some sort of demon made super hunter that my ancestor got my whole family killed for? I go to sit back on the couch, almost out of breath from all this new information that was with Bobby this whole time.
"So what about Mindy? Is she the demon that made the deal? Is that why she wants to kill me?"
"No. She just works for the demon that did it."
"Well if his deal was to make-- to make me, then shouldn't I be able to live?"
"That's the complicated part, Daniel knew that the two bloodlines finally met to make you, but he didn't know what was supposed to happen after that."
"That doesn't explain why this Mindy chick is gunning for me, why can't I live? Cant they just let me live since they reached the end of it?"
"My guess is that you're a threat. That demon went through quite a bit for one deal, too much to just get to kill all those people. He must have something else that he wants."
I run my hand through my hair, my head spinning. Just then Jo enters.
"Yeah, he wants her dead," Jo says, and looks at me, "and hes going to kill everyone that gets in the way."
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wolvesandfoxes25 · 8 years ago
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Sansa and Jon: Why?
So, yesterday I made a post, meta, what have you about Jon/Dany, and why I personally don’t think they’ll be together. Now, I’m doing Sansa and Jon.
It’s no secret that I’m a Jonsa shipper. As I said in my previous meta before season 6 came out, I honestly wasn’t a huge fan of Jon’s storyline. It had kinda flat-lined for me, for a little bit. Then Hardhome happened, and I grew interested again. 
Anyway. Before season 6 I didn’t even give Jon/Sansa a second thought. It was ridiculous. They had never spoken. They had no type of relationship (book and show.)
So, why these two? Well, let’s go over a couple of things. Jon and Sansa compliment each other rather well. Sansa is not a warrior, she’s not Ygritte, she’s no Val. But, in the books, it really dug into Jon’s wishes to what he wanted for his future. And it didn’t include fighting. It included having children that looked like his siblings. He lusts after Val, he does not love her. It’s as if he’s projecting what he wants onto her. But he knows he won’t get it. Sansa, in the books wants to return to Winterfell, as Jon does. She also wants to have children that look like her siblings. Weird? Not only that but their many parallels. Sansa started off as a lady, then a bastard. Jon started off a bastard, then a lord. Now a prince. 
Show wise: Their scenes in season 6 are not platonic. The way that they’re shot, the way that they’re acted, (mostly Kit). He looks at her a lot of the time, stares at her really. As if he’s trying to figure out who she is. Because guess what, they never had any kind of relationship with each other. They really don’t know how to act around the other. Like...hmmm...strangers I’d say. Anyway, the scenes. Let’s bullet the scenes here that questionable eye contact, physical contact happened....
1.) Meeting Jon again. (The hug was heart warming, just the point of the fact that two Starks had actually met again brought tears to my eyes.) But Jon, immediately recognizing her bunched up his hand, and moved back. As if he was hit with a force that shoved him backwards. He couldn’t believe it was her! Anyway, this scene itself doesn’t really (to me) have any romantic undertones. Moving on...
2.) After hug scene: Jon and Sansa are sitting in Castle black, sitting in front of a fire. Sansa’s sipping soup and Jon is staring at her. Like, he’s trying to figure her out. Since he has no relationship with Sansa, he doesn’t really know what to say. And he does stare at her, he definitely has a foreign emotions in his features that I can’t quite place in this scene. But then, after, they start to banter back and forth about Winterfell, and Sansa asks him to forgive her. He does, and they laugh. Then, she proceeds to ask for his ale, and he looks at her, in a humorous way. She drinks the ale, then chokes, and he laughs. That is a flirtatious action. See, a brotherly reaction would be...
“Ha. Knew you wouldn’t be able to drink it. This stuff’s terrible.” Or something like that. 
3.)Assembling the North scene: Now, this scene confuses me. 100% Jon stares at her a lot of this scene, but he doesn’t do it in a flirtatious way, he does it in a ‘learning her’ way. He’s trying to understand what she means, and what she wants. Then, when Davos is starting to put down her plans, he starts to get almost agitated, not at Sansa, but at Davos. He cuts in when Davos is done talking to her, telling him there’s more then three houses in the North, there’s two dozen more. Then the part where Sansa says that she has the Stark name. Jon looks at her, then Edd looks at him. Jon looked stunned at what she said. Ed looked at Jon in question. The whole scene is very confusing. I didn’t get it. 
4.)Cloak scene!: Jon approaches Sansa, asking her about her new dress. Now, I don’t know about you, but my husband told me  he NEVER notices what his sister is wearing. Sansa then proceeds to ask if he likes it, blushing slightly, smiling a little bit. Jon proceeds to stammer and say, “I like the wolf bit.” Lol, awkward, and definitely not a brotherly type of reaction. It was more flirting, but in a subtle way. 
Pause! Now, I just wanted to note that in every scene with Jon and Sansa, Sansa is always in the frame. Whether it be where Jon is talking to the Wildlings, where Sansa is present, or when they’re speaking to the houses. Sansa is always in frame with him. It could mean nothing, it could mean something. All I know is NOTHING ever means nothing. Let’s take a look at an example: In season 6, Cersei goes to talk to Lady Olenna, being rather...sweet and understanding with her. Well, at this time, we had no idea what her plan with the wildfire was. To us, Cersei was trying to get back in Olenna’s good graces, and giving her hope in having her grandchildren back. Cersei tries to talk her into staying. And she does this because she wanted her to be in the Sept of Baelor when it blew up. Killing Lady Olenna. 
A nothing scene is always something. 
5.)Wildling scene: There’s not much that happens here. But we do get to see the reactions of Sansa when Jon’s talking to the Wildling lords. She seems rather...okay with the Wildlings. She isn’t turning her nose up. And make note, Sansa is always standing behind Jon. When they’re talking to the wildlings, when they talk to Lyanna, and when they talk to Glover. She only talks when he gives her the “Oh shit, save me,” look. Such as the one he gave her when they met Lyanna. See..that’s another thing. With just a look, Jon can tell Sansa many things. They don’t need words. Which is awesome!
6.)Lyanna scene: They fed off each other’s silence. Jon knew when he needed to step in and Sansa knew when she needed to step in. It’s the unspoken thing they have with each other. It speaks volumes.
7.)Letter scene: Oh, I love this scene! I love it because Sansa really gets under Jon’s skin. And guess who else did that? Ygritte! She challenged him. And Sansa does that for Jon. She’s pushing him to gather more men, and the look of aggravation on his features says many things. One, he might strangle her. Two, oh seven give me strength. Lol, anyway. This scene showed that Sansa does push him, she pushes him to not give up, and to keep trying, keep looking. 
8.) Damnit, I forgot a scene. This one is the hand holding scene! Okay, so after the pink letter is read, Jon looks pretty downtrodden. Sansa pushes him to fight, reaching out and grabbing his hand. Now, this scene was panned in on. Which...if it was meant as a manipulative move on Sansa’s part, I don’t think they would have shown it. Then, when she grabs his fingers, he grabs hers as well, squeezing her fingers. I loved this part.
9.)Glover scene: Also not in order. Oops! Now, this one is important in many ways. One, I thinks it’s a little bit of a foreshadow about the ‘foreign whore’ thing Lord Glover said, in reference to Robb, and I think it could also apply to Jon, if he decided to randomly fall in love with Dany after two episodes. Anyway, they’re talking, and Sansa doesn’t step in until Glover is leaving. Well, he lays into her, letting her know that Robb fucked up. Well, if you watch closely, Jon turns his body towards Sansa and Glover as they’re talking. He’s stiff...he’s ready, just encase Glover wants to overstep his bounds. Jon was on alert, but  he was also paying attention to what Glover had said about Robb. Good! Hope he takes that to heart.
10.) Ramsay scene: Jons death glare. When Ramsay said he couldn’t wait to have Sansa back in his bed, Jon gave him a withering look. And they panned in on his features. To me, if it wasn’t meant to matter, they would have just expanded the scene to include Jon, and the people behind him. He also, at the beginning, offers a duel to Ramsay. Which, I guess could mean anything...?
11.) Tent scene: They argue, they yell at each other. And the candle lighting made me give it a side-eye. Yes, it’s true that Robb and Cat argued, but when they did, they were not in each others faces. They were sitting down, or standing up, yelling almost across the room at each other. Sansa and Jon closed the space in between them, and proceeded to argue...and PANT, might I add. Then, after the arguing, Jon promises to never let Ramsay touch her again. Also, not a brotherly vow. A brotherly vow would have been...
“I swear Sansa, I won’t let him hurt you again.” But no...the sentence was drug out, giving meaning behind every syllable Jon uttered, and the emotions in his eyes spoken volumes as well.
12.) Jon beating Ramsay: Jon goes crazy, unleashing the beast on Ramsay, beating him to death...then, Sansa’s there. Jon looks up, see’s her, and stops punching Ramsay. Now, we could say that he did this because Ramsay was Sansa’s to finish. But, I also think it’s because Jon did not want Sansa to see him that way. But, it also shows that Sansa brought him back from the darkness, with just her presence. Which...is what Cat did for Ned when he was strangling Littlefinger against the brothel. There is also that pause after they’re stopped. Ned is staring at Cat, Jon is staring at Sansa, then they look at their victims and let them go. 
13.) Forehead kiss!!!! it starts off with Sansa showing up, and Jon telling her she should have the Lord’s chambers. Which is a WEIRD thing for the siblings (cousins) to talk about. She proceeds to tell him he’s a Stark to her. And he smiles. Then, she apologizes to him about the KOTV. He stares ahead, then walks over to her, telling her they need to trust each other. Then, he proceeds to lean in and gently touch the side of her head, pulling her head forwards to place a gentle...yet long...kiss on her forehead. After he pulls back, he stares into her eyes for a good 3 seconds, then, stares at her lips before he comes back to himself and pulls away. Now, my thing is...Jon looks uncomfortable after this interaction, he’s walking away from her. And the only reason why he stops is because Sansa tells him Winter is here. After a little bit of flirting with their house words, Jon drops eye contact with her, turning away, and stiffly leaving. 
Ugh! Done! Anyway...I loved all of their scenes together, and some did definitely scream fishy. Or, that’s so not how a brother would kiss their sister. It would be weeeeeird.
Arya’s feelings towards this couple: It’s not secret that Arya and Jon are close...but me personally, I think Arya is going to meet her end...and I say this because if you look at the parallels between Arya and Lyanna, it’s really...eerie. To me these are the parallels...
Cat-Sansa
Ned-Jon
Lyanna-Arya
Bran-Benjen
Robb-Brandon
Ned-Rickard
Rickon- No answer to that one.
I definitely think history is repeating itself, it just won’t play out exactly how it did before. Anway, Arya’s storyline isn’t going to end with a marriage and children. To me, she’s going to die completing her list. Ever since Ned died, which was really when the series began, Arya has been going down a dark path. A path of vengeance...and justice, in her eyes. This path is going to be completed when she’s completed...when her list is completed. 
“Hates a good enough reason to keep going.” The hound says this to Arya in season 4?
Jon and Sansa would make a compelling couple. To me personally, something really big is going to happen to Bran, and he’s going to be called, or taken away from Winterfell. Maybe the new Knight King? That would explain the Benjen parallel, Benjen was a Knights watch man. He got lost beyond the wall. Which Bran did!
I think the last two standing will be Jon and Sansa. Like Ned and Cat were in rebuilding and restarting the Stark line basically. Not only that but the Ned and Cat parallels are constantly being shoved in our faces.
Example: Jon’s hair. Why did it need to be changed to look like Ned’s? Melisandre could have easily just taken his beard hair, as it showed during his resurrection. Why was that necessary?
Sansa is always being compared to Catelyn, not only in looks but in personality as well. Looks, willfulness, and definitely her hair, are Cat 2.0. Jon’s personality, looks, and his hair are Ned 2.0.
So...I am now done with my little meta/rant/example/break down thing...if you’d like to add anything...go ahead.
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