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astaroth1357 · 3 years

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Demigod MC Series: Hestia

This is another eternally virgin goddess, so we're doing another pseudo-demigod by adoption (like we did with Athena).

Demigod MC: Intro, Aphrodite, Hermes, Hades, Dionysus, Demeter, Athena, Hades Pt. 2, Poseidon, Ares, Hestia

Hestia is the goddess of the Hearth, Home, Architecture, Domesticity, Family, and the State. She's high up there (firstborn of Rhea and Cronus), but several factors have led to her falling into the background when compared to the other (flashier) Olympians. She swore to never marry, rejecting proposals from both Poseidon and Apollo, and is something of an antithesis to Aphrodite.

Lucifer

Honestly? He thought they were exactly what they were after. A weak human with no experience in the magical world what-so-ever.

Well… He was half-right.

On the surface, this is a pretty weak human. They don't have super flashy powers or a divine birth from the gods… but they do have a very protective adoptive mother.

The brothers had just settled in for their first dinner with the new human when the goddess herself strolled into their dining room, asked who was in charge, then dragged Lucifer away by the ear!

She's not even his mother, yet he felt the intense urge to apologize and put himself in his own room… Oh, the humiliation… at least she did the same to Diavolo…

The Prince was only able to calm her down by promising absolutely NO harm would come to her child… on their heads...

By the time the goddess finally let him go, Lucifer was about ready to shackle the MC to his wrist so nothing could touch them but he settled on keeping them with him like an assistant of sorts. They were in charge of helping him with the paperwork so he could keep an eye on them.

What he didn’t expect was for them to be so… good at it? They could keep his offices clean, they managed his daily schedule, fixed up the House, and still have time to bring him tea and sweets every night!

They could even reign in his brothers somehow… They weren't strong or intimidating, but one or two mildly unhappy words out of them and everybody would be on their best behavior.

Was everyone positive they're only human...?

As much as he hated to admit, he may have a slight deep case of falling for the housekeeper… He would make a move, but well…

He has Beel to contend with first.

Mammon

Okay so, watching Lucifer get dragged out by the ear just like Raphael used to do to him was hilarious!!! The whole room got a good laugh! 🤣

Until Hestia glared at them and suddenly they all felt like they'd disappointed someone important….

And all that fuss over some dumb human??

So what if they made amazing food?

So what if they could clean the entire mansion in a day?

So what if they were the walking equivalent to a warm cup of cocoa on a winter's day??

So what if they were just the kindest, sweetest thing in this godforsaken hellscape and he would throw himself in front of a bus to keep them safe-

-Wait, when did that happen?!?

Seriously, Mammon's attachment to the MC came out of NOWHERE to him. One day, he was threatening to eat their soul and the next he's freaking out when they stub their toe!

He swears they have to have some kind of magic about them! A charm, or a spell, or… their lovable smile and warm, loving hugs...! 😊

Damnit!! They're too cute!! He needs them to go away but also never leave, thanks. 😒

In all seriousness, though their kind nature puts Mammon's tsundere self at a bit of a disadvantage, his protective instincts shoot through the roof whenever they're involved.

Naturally, that means his day is spent running them away from hungry lesser demons or shielding them from Beel and Lucifer's tug-of-war matches… He's a busy guy these days. 😖

Leviathan

They're so… so… MOE!!!

That was his immediate thought when Mammon brought them home. He was expecting a defenseless human, but not one that could have stepped out of one of his slice-of-life manga!

To be honest, his instant thought was try and find a place to sit them on his shelves with the rest of the adorable characters he loves… 😅

And that was before they even opened their mouth! Five words into their introduction and he was ready to get their face on a t-shirt!!

Honestly, combine their natural cuteness with their household skills and they made for perfect waifu/husbando material…

Not helped by the fact they found one of his maid/butler outfits while doing the laundry one day. Not only did they ask if they could wear it, they actually non-ironically liked it and started wearing it around the House!!

Oh he got cornered by Beel, Lucifer, and Mammon separately that day because they thought he was using them for fetish fuel… But it was their idea, he swears!!

I mean… He didn't discourage them or anything either but still…

If Beel hadn't claimed them on Day One, Levi might have eventually thrown his hat in the ring too... Oh well… he can pine from a distance… What else is new? 😔

Satan

He has a video of Hestia dragging Lucifer out of the dining room on his phone and it's one of his most treasured possessions now. 😌

He is perhaps the only person in the House who was not at all impressed with their little human.

So they could cook? So could he. So they can clean? That's not impressive. They could manage a household? Big deal, he's more or less been in charge of the same thing for centuries!

As far as he saw it, there was nothing the MC could do that he couldn't do as proficiently or even better. There was nothing remarkable about this human at all!

… except for one thing.

That maid/butler outfit of Levi's? The one they like to wear around?

It has cat accessories…

Either they don't notice or they don't mind it but they essentially walk around the House cleaning things with little kitty ears attached to their head and a bell on their collar…

Dammit… Why did Levi even buy that?!?

Satan ended up getting in trouble for enchanting their outfit to give them REAL ears and a tail "accidentally..." Lucifer strung him up by his toes, Beel gave him a black-eye, and Mammon still calls him a "perverted cat freak" but it was worth it, he says, worth it!!

Asmodeus

Oh Beel…

Asmo saw Beel's feelings for the MC coming from a mile away. He didn't even need to confirm it with a sniff check, he had them scented by the end of their first night!

Lucifer, on the other hand, now that was a surprise... 😏

Ask him a century ago if Lucifer would ever consider a human lover, godly mother or no, and he'd have laughed! Yet here he is, giving gifts and sneaking whiffs of their adorable new housemate!

Of course, that's causing some commotion because they're pitted against each other, but Asmo finds it kind of cute honestly.

Beel and Lucifer aren't fighting, not for real. The whole house knows Lucifer would win in a real brawl, but neither of them actually want to hurt the other… They're far too close for that.

So Beel tosses Lucifer around with kid gloves and Lucifer holds back considerably against Beel. It's pretty much just two brothers who love each other squabbling over the same toy… 🤭

Honestly, Lucifer might have bowed out by now and just let Beel have them but now his pride's on the line… thus an endless tussle between family and the sweet MC is in the middle, clueless to it all!

Tragic, is it not? But it certainly makes things more entertaining around here! (Good thing too since Beel beat him to the punch… If it's a fight against those two, he'll have to keep any of his own affairs with the MC under the radar... 😏)

Beelzebub

He has claimed this one. Full stop.

For a bit of perspective: when Barbatos needs cooking tips, he calls Hestia. Hestia, the Divine Master of All Things Cooking. Hestia, the goddess who raised this MC…

Needless to say if they have any magic at all, it's in the kitchen.

If food is the way to Beel's heart, this MC has claimed his heart, soul, and probably all of his vital organs. Their food is astounding!! Always perfect every time and so good it brings him to tears!

It started the night of that first dinner, prepared by MC. He was too busy scarfing down the table to even notice a goddess showed up and then he proposed to the MC with their own pig roast by meal's end!

They said no to marriage, but an instant pact agreement suited him just fine.

Beel didn't waste a single moment before he started treating them like a potential mate, territorial aggression and all, but there was a bit of a catch… He kept the MC totally oblivious to it.

Surprisingly, Beel's can turn the "They're MINE" part of his brain on and off pretty well. He's nothing but sweet and cuddly to the MC when they're around and even with his brothers!... as long as they don't try anything.

The moment he caught whiff that Lucifer might be pursuing them too, it was on. Suddenly the two brothers who almost never fight were in competition against each other! But of course, both have an unspoken rule to never do so in front of MC.

And now poor MC believes it's common for demons to "play wrestle" like puppies and hugs are traditionally supposed to be so hard they could snap spines…

And it doesn’t look like they'll be backing down any time soon… Oh dear...

Belphegor

You know what? For once, everything goes exactly to plan for Belphie!

No really, this MC has no hidden powers, no magic horses, not even Demon Nip. They are a helpless, trusting little human who just wants to help their big teddy bear get his twin back!

So, you know how it goes. The charm, the lies, the treachery and all of that. He even gets to kill them!! Oh, happy days!! 😁

Come to think of it, they did smell an awful lot like Beel… But who cares, as long as Lucifer suffers right?? And this whole "living together in harmony" crap fails, right?!

Wrong.

Beel went ballistic. Lucifer did too, but Beel was what really hurt…

Belphie can safely say that in all of his life, Beel has never physically attacked him. Not once, or at least, not with intent to kill…

But when the sixthborn's fist went crashing through the wall right by his ear that day, he knew his brother's first instinct was to aim for his head… and his second was to miss, as he still loved him, but only by just a little.

What the hell did he just do??

Thank their father for Barbatos and all the funky time stuff he can do because bringing the MC "back" snapped his angry brothers right out of it.

Things should have been smoothed over at that point but as everyone was finally settling down for tea, Hestia made another appearance in the House… this time carrying a butcher's knife!

Time fix or no, Diavolo had promised her no harm would come to MC and at least one continuity of them DIED… so punishment was now on Lucifer and the Demon Prince himself!

Belphie, in a rare case of guilt and an expression of brotherly love, offered to take their place since it WAS kind of all his fault. His gesture softened the Goddess of Family juuust enough to lighten his sentence from execution to hard labor.

And thus, the MC had their own housekeeping assistant for a whole year, complete with bitter reluctance and a matching maid outfit! Cat-theme and all!!

He's sending nightmares to anybody who laughs… guaranteed. 😒

#obey me #obey me shall we date #shall-we-date-obey-me #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me headcanons #obey me demigods

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sherrybaby14 · 4 years

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Merry Christmas Santa

Summary: You’re at a Christmas party when Santa pays you a bit too much attention.

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Words: 2500

Warnings: Smut, Christmas/Santa! Kink, Noncon (But turns to dubcon), Please do not read if this offends you, groping, alcohol.

A/N: Here is the request, but I changed it quite a bit. Hope you still enjoy! Hmm 🤔 I know you did a secret Santa fic with tony, how about one where Steve or Bucky kidnapping a kind hearted virgin Y/N where she is doing a Christmas charity or something to do with outside Santa ringing bells and stuff, I forgot that name. Or they disguise themselves as Santa 🎅.

The office Christmas party was your least favorite event of the year. It was always at the end of the work day and you were obligated to stay late. It seemed to you if they really wanted to make it a party it would be on company time, not personal.

Of course Stark Industry had too many employees to have one giant one. Sure the up-and-ups had a fancy gala with champagne, but for the rest of you it was handles of vodka and boxed cookies for a few hours at the end of a random Friday in December.

“Can you believe that clown is running for re-election?” Your coworker had already hit the vodka a bit too hard if he was brining up politics.

“No.” You didn’t know which politician he was talking about and really didn’t care either.

“Ho, ho, ho!” A new voice filled the room. “Merry Christmas.”

Your coworker opened his mouth to continue talking, but you’d never been more grateful for the interruption and weren’t about to waste it.

“Santa!” You walked toward the person in the red costume.

“The one and only.” The Santa Claus was tall, his belly fake, you scanned the are to see if one of your coworkers was missing, but all looked accounted for. “Have you been a good girl this year?”

You were a bit put off by the tone of his voice. The way he said good girl, it was almost too inquisitive.

“Ray, did you hire a Santa?” Another coworker asked your boss.

“I can’t say I did.” Your boss shrugged. “Who sent you Santa?”

“Why, the reindeer brought me here of course.” The Santa costume looked expensive, much more grand than a department store.

The white beard and wig covered most of the man’s face. All you could see were the eyes. Bright blue, and a bit familiar.

“And I brought presents, for all you good girls and boys.” The Santa looked you in the eye and gave a wink as he set down a sack on the floor. “Santa can’t take the credit for these though. Mr. Stark wanted to make sure his employees enjoyed their parties this year.”

“Tony…Tony Stark?” Your boss about fell over. “He, he hired a Santa to come to our Christmas party?”

There was probably ten, if not more, pay grades between your boss and Tony Stark. Even he wasn’t high enough to get invited to that fancy gala party.

“He heard about the wonderful work you’ve done this year.” Santa reached into his bag and started handing out wrapped presents. “And wanted to share his appreciation. He wishes he could be here himself, but duty calls.”

This Christmas party was getting interesting. Even more so when it became apparent the presents were addressed to people by name. There were thirty-four people in your area.

“Trevor this one is for you.” Your coworker Joan read the tag. “Pete?”

Others started to pass out the gifts as well. You leaned against the wall, curious what was in store for you.

“I believe is for you miss.” Santa held out a small gift.

You were hesitant to take it, but did.

“How did you know my name?” You tried to get a harder look at the Santa, but the beard and wig were too grand to really see anything but those stunning eyes.

“Well Santa knows all the names of his good girls.” He gave a wink. “And you have been a good girl this year. I picked this out special for you.”

Your heart raced as you looked away, feeling a warmth come to your face. You had to know this Santa impersonator, he seemed to know you.

“This is…this hasn’t come out yet.” Your co-worker held up the newest top-of-the-line phone. “Holy shit, this thing is like two grand.”

“Language around Santa please.” The red suited man spoke with a stern voice.

“Right, sorry Santa.” He went back to his new gadget.

You watched the rest of your co-workers shred through the wrapping paper, displaying tech gadget after tech gadget. Many got the same thing, phones, watches, tablets, ear buds. Some even got VR simulators you’d never heard of.

Christmas was going to be spent alone this year. You didn’t expect any gifts and decided to wait until Christmas morning to open yours. Based on the box size it was a phone, but it was still worth having some surprise on that special day.

You walked over to your office and tucked the package in your desk drawer. Maybe this Christmas party wasn’t so terrible after all.

The gifts lightened everyone mood. Nobody was talking politics, the punch flew down people’s mouths, even some started to dance. It felt more like a real party and not an office forced affair.

Santa stayed. He set up a chair and people took turns taking photographs and sitting on his lap. You kept your distance at first, but after he’d been there for an hour or so people lost interest in him. Drunken coworkers started playing games and he fizzled into the background.

You glanced over at him. He raised a white glove and hailed for you. You glanced to both sides to make sure he wasn’t signaling to someone else. Santa nodded and continued to wave. You didn’t want to talk to him, but he had just delivered you a present. Besides, you didn’t want to appear rude.

So you strutted over to the man. He tapped his spread thigh, wanting you to sit down.

“I think I’m a little old for Santa’s lap.” Through the red suit you could see he was muscular. No where close to having a Santa body.

“Nonsense.” He grabbed your wrist and tugged you forward.

His strength shocked you as you tripped falling into him. He twisted your body so you were sitting on his lap, pressed to his chest.

The movement shocked you too much to respond. You looked around to see if anyone was going to come to your rescue, but not a single person at the party noticed.

“That’s a good girl.” Santa let go of your wrist and wrapped his arm around your waist. “Now tell Santa what you want for Christmas.”

“What the hell man.” You tried to stand, but he was strong. Unnaturally so.

“Santa doesn’t appreciate that language.” He waved a finger in front of your face. “If you keep that up I’ll put you on my lap in another position.”

Your mouth dropped and eyes widened at his innuendo. Who the fuck was this guy? Before you could say anything his hand was on your chin.

“Leave those lips parted and Santa will have to slide something in between.” He dropped the Santa accent, you recognized the voice but couldn’t place it. “Did you like your toy?”

“I didn’t open it.” You didn’t understand why you were answering and not slapping the man.

“That’s disappointing.” He shook his head. “I was hoping you would play with it tonight. I’d love to see that look of joy it brings you.”

Something was very wrong. The Santa peered at you with a Devilish glare in his eyes. You pulled away, and to your surprise you fell out of his lap. Landing on the floor with a thud.

“Whoa, ho, ho.” Santa grabbed your elbow and guided you to your feet. “Are you alright miss?”

You glanced around at your office. Nobody seemed to notice anything was off. That made you more uneasy.

“Hey Santa!” A drunken colleague grabbed the man’s hand. “Dance with us.”

The red suited man was whisked away and you decided now was the time to leave. Maybe you were overreacting, maybe it was harmless. But he did make a spanking threat? Was he doing that to everyone? The way his arm was on your hip, it was too tight. Someone would’ve spoken up.

You arrived at your office and shut the door behind you. You reached in the drawer, pulling out the present. It felt more sinister now, not the Christmas surprise you were hopeful for.

There was bit of a shake to your hand as you ripped off the paper, dreading what was inside. When you saw the box cover of the phone all the tension you were holding in left your shoulders. You began to laugh as your head fell forward. Paranoid much?

Maybe you had too much to drink and fell into the Santa’s lap. Maybe he was just being friendly.

“Get it together.” You stood up from your desk and grabbed your purse from the drawer. It was time to head home.

You picked up the new phone ready to slide it into your bag when you noticed the clear wrapping was missing, the box already open. You shook at it until the strong cardboard parted enough you could pry them apart.

It wasn’t a phone. Instead there was a little velvet bag, where the electronic should be. You picked it up and pulled the string open, then dipped your fingers inside to pull out a silicone toy. There was a button you pressed down and the thing let out an almost silent buzz.

You gasped and dropped the item onto your desk, it vibrated around the top mocking you.

“What the fuck?” That was a sex toy. You were certain it was some sort of clit stimulator. Pink and dancing around your desk.

Then the door to your office opened and a red suited stranger walked in, shutting it behind him.

“Is this some kind of sick prank?” You walked around the desk ready to slap the man. “I’m calling security.”

“Do that and I’ll show them all the recordings I have of you masturbating at your desk, during work hours.” Santa pulled off his hat and wig. “You put on quite a show.”

“What? I…I…” Your world started to tumble down.

Sometimes you got bored, it broke up the day. So what, you shut the door for a few minutes, read some erotica, then went back to work. Recordings? You looked around for a camera.

“I told Tony to tighten security.” The bead vanished and your jaw hung open. “I was doing a routine check on random points and oh my, did I get to see the sweetest vision.”

“You’re….you’re…” You lifted a finger to point.

“I love the way your words get confused when you get excited.” He grabbed the top of his Santa suit and yanked it over his head.

Rippling muscles showed as the fake belly vanished. You fell against your desk as he began pulling off his boots.

“I caught you the first time this summer, and like a drug I kept coming back.” He continued to strip. “You’ve been the highlight of my day for months. Sometimes, when you go for two, I joint you. Stroking my cock while I watch your face twist, the way you bite back those moans, hand between your legs. I’ve wanted to come assist so many times.”

A mix of shame, embarrassment, and heat flooded your body. You crossed your legs as a reaction.

“Oh no.” Steve Rogers stepped forward. “Don’t be shy. I finally get an in person view.”

Even if you wanted to keep them shut you were no match for the super soldier who parted you with ease. His hands went to your waist and he yanked off your bottoms, leaving you on the desk in your panties.

“That is gorgeous.” His hand reached out and cupped your sex. “Already getting wet for me.”

“What?” That last line seemed to snap you back to reality. “Is this some sick joke?”

You brought your hands to his chest and tried to push away but he was like a wall.

“This is one hundred percent real.” He began rubbing his palm up and down your sex as he loomed over you, his mouth finding your neck. “I wanted to make an entrance.”

“No.” You shoved harder and tried to bend your neck to block him. “I don’t…are you blackmailing me?”

“Does it matter?” He bit down and dragged his teeth, rubbing you harder through your panties. “You don’t like your toy?”

“No!” You tried to crawl away across your desk. “I don’t like any of this.”

“Come on now.” Steve laughed. “Remember, be a good girl for Santa. Do I need to put the beard back on?”

“NO!” Did you just agree to something? You liked Christmas, but the idea of a full Santa suit was worse than a nude Captain.

He raised himself off of you, a beautiful grin on his flawless face. He grabbed the still vibrating toy and made a fist around it.

“Take those off.” He nodded to your underwear and walked around your desk, spinning you on the top in the process. He pulled down his pants, a monster cock popping forward. “And sit on Santa’s lap. I’ll make sure you enjoy your gift.”

A whimper left your lips. You wanted to, part of your brain screamed at you this was wrong. He was forcing you, what option did you have. But there was a tingle in your core from his hand vanishing.

“Do you need Santa’s help again?” He leered down at you.

You started to nod. He popped the toy in his mouth, the vision made you blink, part of you wishing he would slap you to prove this was real. Then he tugged off your panties and lifted you in the air.

You were straddling him as he lined up with your entrance.

“I promise, this will feel much better than your fingers.” He moved the toy to the side of his mouth as he began pressing you down.

You bit back the moan as he stretched you. It had been so long, and he was by far the largest you had taken. Your hands went to his shoulders as your thighs quaked, being filled by the gorgeous man.

It started to hurt and you winced. He was getting too deep. You didn’t think you could take any more. A glance down told you there was at least an inch more.

“Here’s where this comes in handy.” Steve removed the toy from his mouth and brought it to your clit.

There was no holding back the cry as you fell forward, impaling yourself on him deeper than you would’ve thought possible as your bundle of nerves was stroke with the amazing sensation. You hoped nobody heard you, the Christmas music blaring in the background.

“Oh that’s a good girl.” Steve began toying with the vibrator, moving it away from your body to make you arch your back and rock against him. “Doesn’t that feel good?”

“Yes.” It came out like a breathy whimper as you rode his massive dick. “So good.”

Your nipples went rock hard and you wanted your shirt off, to feel skin against skin, but you were beyond making any requests. You felt every part of him inside of you, the velvet smoothness, the overstuffed feeling. But his movements with the toy. They were making you break out in a sweat.

“Cum for Santa.” Steve pressed hard against you, making you whine. “Cum for me.”

The command made your body unfold before you were ready. As if the orgasm had been building for hours and appeared out of nowhere at the exact same time. You convulsed and shook, making unintelligible noises as you fell apart around him.

“That’s the best gift, that look on your face in person.” Steve licked his lips as you tried to focus. “Merry Christmas to me.”

#Steve rogers x reader #steve rogers #fanfic #marvel #marvel fanfic #fanfiction #christmas fanfic #christmas #captain america fanfic

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7team7 · 4 years

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Making his list

Summary: The holidays are a busy time, so when Sakura is out of commission due to her pregnancy, Sasuke takes matters into his own hands. Modern AU, pregnant Sakura, good househusband Sasuke. [2.3k words]

A/N: sorry this is late, but happy holidays everyone!! This was the most voted option on twitter, but office au coming soon enough I guess!! Stream The Carol by Haseul and Christmas Tree Farm by TS

Sakura adored the holiday season. The chilly weather gave her the perfect excuse to cozy up near a fire with a mug of hot cocoa. She loved finding the perfect gifts for her friends and family, finally spending some of her hard earned money. She always marveled at all the decorations and loved taking the time to bake the sweetest confections. The hospital was busy as usual, but it was honestly fun to treat kids who had maybe eaten a bit too much sugar.

But as a pregnant woman, she just couldn’t keep up as well this time around. The normally welcome weather seemed to be more biting than usual and her pregnancy made her more tired. She was so busy getting things for the baby, she had less time to shop for other gifts. Being on maternity leave meant she had both nothing and everything to do. The thought of decorating and baking for hours on end made her feet ache.

Sasuke hated the holidays. It usually served as a reminder that his family was dead and he was all alone. People seemed to forget how to drive when it rained or snowed and lines were always too long everywhere.

But when he married Sakura and got her pregnant soon after, he found himself changing his mind. He couldn’t wait to watch her in action around their home. They’d been friends long enough that he’d received some of her incredibly thoughtful gifts and seen all the traditions she liked partaking in, but it was different now that they shared a home together. When they were just dating, he couldn’t hog her as much as he did now. He used to think Black Friday was ridiculous, but he had a feeling he’d be clambering over all the other parents for the toys his child would want next year. Why pass up a good sale?

[continued under the cut]

The night of December 1st, Sakura gave him a gift, claiming she just couldn’t help it. Sasuke unwrapped the shiny paper and opened the box to be faced with the ugliest ugly holiday sweater he had ever seen. It was red with white stripes and had a huge picture of the Grinch in the middle. “It’s funny, right? Because you’re kind of grumpy like him, but you just need a little holiday spirit to make your heart grow!” Oh yes, being likened to the Grinch did not make him very happy, but his wife did make his heart grow three sizes.

He pulled it on immediately over his t-shirt. Sakura’s eyes were practically sparkling. “Thanks for buying one that’s not itchy. Where’s yours?”

“Oh,” she bit her lip softly, like she hadn’t even considered matching like she usually wanted. She disappeared into their closet and pulled hers out—covered in candy canes and jingle bells.

“Um,” she said as she stuck her head through the collar, “I don’t think it fits me right now.” Her eyes immediately welled with tears. She loved this sweater and the hormones were not helping. She’d had it forever, so it was a little tight now that she was older and taller, but she couldn’t even get it past her belly.

“Uh,” Sasuke grappled with his words in an attempt to make her feel better. He hated seeing her cry, especially over something so menial. Sakura normally loved the holidays, and he had seen her wear that sweater at least once every year since he’d known her. “You can just wear it like this, right? With a shirt underneath or something? It’s just kind of a crop top now.”

Sakura looked up at him, more tears coming, “But then the baby will be cold!” Sasuke immediately yanked his sweater off and put it back in the box. “It’s okay, I just won’t wear mine until next year. We can match with the baby next year or something,” he said as he started helping Sakura out of her sweater. That easily helped cheer her up.

“Oh, Sasuke, we’re going to have a baby by this time next year! We’re going to buy so many toys I can’t wait!” She started babbling excitedly about the stages of development and what kinds of learning and playing kids did at what age and Sasuke decided this was much better than crying over an ugly sweater.

“We’d better get our tree soon before all the good ones get taken. I want to have it up all month so we can enjoy it,” Sakura mentioned to Sasuke the next day. She had started sorting through decorations after breakfast. “It smells so good and makes the house feel so much more festive. Hanging up ornaments is always fun, I even got a new star to put on top this year.” Sasuke simply nodded and started clearing their plates while she continued digging through boxes.

“I’m going out,” Sasuke announced after he finished washing the dishes. It was the weekend and they normally enjoyed reading the newspaper on the couch together after cleaning up, so Sakura was a bit confused. “Do you need anything?” he asked as he gathered his coat and scarf.

“Yeah, the perfect Christmas tree,” she joked. “No, I’m just going to be unboxing decorations here. Ever since we moved into this house I keep forgetting where I put everything so it’ll take me a while.”

Sakura had only managed to hang a wreath and put on some holiday music when Sasuke returned home.

“I brought you something,” he said gruffly as he propped the door open.

“Ooh, an early present? But why not just wait a little longer, darling?” Of course, Sakura loved receiving gifts from Sasuke because they were always things only he would think to give her, but she could wait.

“You said you wanted it now,” he said as he hauled in a huge evergreen tree. It wasn’t in a net like the ones they had at lots and it even had snow dropping off the branches. The thick trunk looked like it had taken a real beating.

“Sasuke,” she asked slowly, “did you chop this down yourself?”

“Of course I did,” he said matter of factly. “You said you wanted the perfect one and I found it for you. I just strapped it to the top of the car and brought it back. This one is way better than anything at those overpriced lots. It’s fresh,” he added, as if she didn’t notice. The snow was beginning to melt all over their floor.

“You’re not really allowed to do that, but thank you.” She didn’t even want to ask where he chose to cut it down because no matter the location, it probably wasn’t legal if he returned so quickly. She pressed a kiss to his cheek, still a bit cold from spending time outside. “It really is perfect,” she praised after she got over the shock. It seriously was a lovely tree. Sasuke was just the type of person who did things his own way, she supposed.

“If I put it in the corner, you’ll decorate it, right? Just call me when you need to put the star on top. I don’t want you falling.” She gave him another kiss and let him be on his way to read the paper they missed that morning. He didn’t end up going far, though, preferring to observe the way she danced around the tree and got excited every time she opened up an ornament she had forgotten about.

“Damn it, I completely forgot that I have Ino’s holiday brunch tomorrow. I promised to bring my usual cookies, but I’m beat.” Sakura had just finished eating dinner and decorating the house when she realized there was still more to do. She had already purchased all the ingredients from the store but there just wasn’t enough time in the day. She sighed, “I guess I’ll have to go pick something up on my way tomorrow. I’m sad, they’re such a tradition at this point.”

Sasuke knew which cookies she was talking about because he liked them too. She made them spiced enough for him to enjoy, so he found himself a little disappointed by the thought that they might not happen this year. “Why don’t you just go to bed early? No use in stressing over cookies. I’ll be there soon.” Normally Sakura preferred to fall asleep with her husband there to keep her warm, but she was too tired to argue or even think. Sasuke kept the heater on high and made sure she had an extra blanket before he tiptoed back into the kitchen.

If she wanted the cookies, he would give her the cookies. Surely he could make cookies. How hard could they be?

It turned out, cookies that tasted the way Sakura made them were very difficult to pull off. He even managed to pull out the original recipe, but it seemed like so many tweaks were made that he had to make several test batches before he got anywhere close.

At some point in the middle of the night, he baked himself into a frenzy and produced some damn good cookies. At least the oven made the house warmer, and the kitchen smelled divine. He crawled into bed beside his wife, not caring if he was covered in flour and sugar. As long as she was happy.

Sasuke was normally a heavy sleeper, but he was roused by Sakura’s shrieking in the kitchen. Fearing that something was wrong, he bolted out of their cozy bed with his eyes still half closed.

“Look, Sasuke, my cookies! Who made these?” He had even taken the time to arrange them into a neat pyramid on one of Sakura’s fancy platters. He hoped they would taste good, but even if they didn’t, at least they looked presentable.

Sasuke rubbed his bleary eyes, glad nothing was wrong. “Dunno. Maybe Santa was feeling generous and gave us cookies instead of eating everyone else’s.” Sakura beamed at him and took one off the top to bite into.

“Mm, they’re perfect! You did such a good job Sasuke! What a perfect surprise. Here, try,” she broke off a piece and handed it to Sasuke.

“Breakfast of champions,” he muttered after he finished chewing. He gathered his excited wife into his arms and planted a kiss on the crown of her head. He was tired, but it didn’t really matter because she was happy. He absentmindedly rubbed her pregnant stomach, wondering if their baby would like these cookies too.

“Thank you, you’re the best. Now go back to sleep while I get ready to go,” Sakura said to him.

After changing and finishing her hair and makeup, Sakura walked back to their bed to pull the covers up towards Sasuke’s chin. He kept his eyes closed but mumbled, “drive carefully, please. The roads are supposed to be a bit icy today.”

He was still in bed when he received Sakura’s text that she made it to Ino’s safely. She also sent him a picture of Ino’s house covered in lights, telling him to remind her that they need to put lights outside. It looked tasteful, but Sasuke had a feeling Sakura wanted something a little more over the top and festive. He tossed his blankets to the side and started getting ready for the day. If she wanted lights, he would put some lights up. And it would look better than everyone else’s in their neighborhood.

When Sakura returned home, she honestly didn’t notice. She was too exhausted from all the talking and eating she did at Ino’s. She walked into the house feeling ready to spend the rest of the day with Sasuke. She’d have to give him extra kisses to thank him again for the cookies. And the beautiful tree sitting in the corner of their living room.

“How was it?” he asked as he welcomed her in. One simple question got her talking for a while; she filled him in on anything and everything, from Ino’s decorations to the food to how her girlfriends were doing. “Oh and did you see the picture I sent? Her lights looked really nice, I’ll have to remember to put our lights up soon too.”

“Mhm. Do you notice anything different about the house?” “We have to turn some lights on in here, it gets dark so early in the winter,” she mused as she got up to switch the light on. Sasuke followed her and prevented her from doing so. “No, look outside.” Sakura moved away from the light switch, expecting to see fresh snow that had started falling after she had gotten home and only Sasuke noticed. When she got to their front window, she gasped.

Their lawn was decked out with bright lights, from a snowman to a reindeer to their front pathway lined with lights. She looked up and noticed the roof covered in lights too. She hadn’t noticed partially because they weren’t on when she got home during the day. Her eyes welled with tears as she opened the front door to step outside and get a closer look.

She surveyed their house, lined perfectly with twinkling lights. Their house looked much more festive and cheerful than anyone else on their block. “Did you do this?” she asked Sasuke who followed her out to bring her a coat.

“Glad you finally noticed,” he teased. “You said you wanted lights, but I wasn’t going to let you climb on a ladder while pregnant. So I put up the lights. I bought a few more because I figured you’d like them.”

“They’re perfect!” she exclaimed, giving him a big hug. She looked up at his handsome face, softly illuminated by all their new lights. “You’ll have to do this next year too. And make the cookies. And get the tree.”

He rolled his eyes. He’d gotten sucked into the holiday madness because of this dynamo of a woman standing before him. He was really in it for life. “I’ll have to put it on my list, I guess.”

“I promise I’ll be really nice to you,” she giggled as she pulled him back inside where it was warm.

“I won’t mind if you’re a little naughty,” he murmured as he pinched her hip playfully.

She stuck her tongue out at him, “Hey! The baby can hear you!”

A/N: I just love writing ss as same-same-but different in the intros, if you read a lot of my works you’ll notice that, but they’re just so easy to write like that lmao it makes me happy when people tell me they like the way I portray them because sometimes I do fear I’m just writing them as these not complex, static characters but. It be like that as a writer :-)

#sasusaku #fan fiction #happy holidays #my writing #one shot #my formatting is the most inconsistent thing in the world lmao

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ilovemygaydad · 5 years

Text

punk!patton is adopted by single parent logan part 1/?

short little backstory: this is something I planned up while going to sleep last night because I’d run out of fics to plan (because I haven’t actually wrote those things down... and need to not get too ahead....), but I actually got inspired to write it down and share it? also shout out to the fic miraculously their own because it made me think about adoption fics, and thus this idea

tl;dr: i made a fic about punk!patton being adopted. that’s it.

warnings: really awful people, bad parents, bullying, swearing, physical/verbal violence, homophobic slurs, homophobia, transphobia, sexual assault threat, patton’s honestly a bit of an asshole sometimes, fatalism, possibly something else?

pairings: eventual moxiety, maybe eventual logince

part two - part three - part four - part five - ao3 version - masterlist (includes asks)

patton is orphaned at three years old. he’s got fluffy brown curls, and these beautiful brown eyes, and a soft, round face, and so much soft pudge. he’s the cutest little thing. he seems like the kind of kid who would immediately be adopted

except he’s not

problem is, he’s just got so many emotions

and these prospective parents want the kids who are happy all the time, not the one who feels things so intensely

so he isn’t adopted

a few years later, he’s got these prospective parents who find him just precious. he’d been sitting in the corner of the playroom and reading winnie the pooh. the sweetest, quietest little boy.

and they set up a second time to come meet him

but when they arrive, he’s wrestling with the older kids and laughing and screaming and being a rambunctious child

those parents don’t come back after that...

fast forward to patton’s tenth birthday, and the older kids corner him after the celebration

“you know, once you hit double digits... it means you’re never going to be adopted.”

it just hits patton that no one wants a loud, excitable kid who’s over the age of ten, and he just kind of gives up

he loses himself in music and books and shuts himself off from the world

(the rest under the cut because this is obviously going to get long)

by sixteen, patton is dressing in all black and painting his nails and wearing dark eye makeup and lashing out at everyone

he’s the oldest at the orphanage by about four years

he also has his own room because he got in too many fights with the caretakers and other kids

he doesn’t mind. it gives him more privacy if anything

besides, it isn’t like he comes out of his room unless he’s forced

and when he’s forced, he absolutely fucking hates it

he sits in the corner of the playroom in a chair that isn’t comfortable for anyone over the age of five and stares at his phone, refusing to acknowledge anyone or anything

he’s so wrapped up in whatever’s on his phone that he doesn’t notice when someone comes up to him until they start talking

“hello. that chair seems rather uncomfortable.”

patton nearly falls right out of that damn chair at the sudden acknowledgement

he looks up and sees a man in his thirties sitting on an empty milk crate that previously had toys in it. the man looks like he stepped straight out of some stuffy office--tie and all

“yes, and?”

the man’s neutral expression doesn’t waver as he says “I’m Logan Summers. what’s your name?”

“nunya”

“nunya? that’s an interesti--”

“nunya business”

“oh...”

and they just kinda sit in awkward silence for a few seconds before logan speaks up again

“how much older are you than the other kids here?”

and patton just kinda stops because he thought that this dude would ditch when he gave him attitude, but he didn’t, and he doesn’t know what to do, so he just... answers honestly

“four,” he says

and logan gives him this knowing look and makes an offer that he can’t refuse:

“i’m sure that you’ve lost hope in being adopted, but i’d like to take you with me and at least give you some place to fall back on if you need it. i won’t try to be a martyr parent, but i’ll definitely try to make you feel accepted”

so he lets logan adopt him

summer passes, and it’s time for school to start up for the year

and it’s patton’s first school experience (he’d been homeschooled at the orphanage for his whole life), so logan gets really excited and takes him back to school shopping and buys him some new (all black) clothes and school supplies

logan even offers to drive him to school, even though the school that he teaches at is all the way across town

patton refuses and just takes public transport

he gets to school and absolutely hates how fucking busy it is, so he heads straight for his first class and sits in the back corner of the classroom and messes around on his phone until attendance is taken and his teacher starts talking

and the teacher is talking about the class, it’s american english, and they’re expected to try because they’re juniors, blah, blah, blah

but then

she tells them that they have to do a little ice breaker project with the person sitting next to them

so she explains it and tells everyone to go talk to their neighbor

patton being the edgy teenager that he is doesn’t move at all, letting his partner move their desk over to his

and they do

so patton looks over and finds this tiny boy in a soft lavender oversized jumper and translucent lavender glasses that take up half of his face. he has freckles dusting his rosy cheeks and nose, and he looks what patton imagined that he would’ve turned out like if he’d been adopted as a kid

“uh,” the boy says in a shy, sweet voice. “my name is virgil... you are...?”

patton really doesn’t want to have to deal with people, so he scowls and says “look, i’m not really here to make friends and exchange pleasantries, so let’s get this thing done and move on to never speaking again”

and the kid just deflates and nods, not speaking again for the rest of the class except to offer a few words here and there

patton’s fine with that

eventually, the class ends, and patton takes his sweet time getting to his second period class because--shocker--he still hates this damn school and the damn people

so the final bell has rung, and he’s walking in the empty hall

but, as per usual, there’s a catch

three jocks are trailing behind him, exchanging some quote-unquote witty banter

“ohhhhh, fresh meat! wonder what rock he crawled out from...” “who cares, have you seen him? he’s wearing all that makeup to pretend to be a girl!” “or he’s just gay! wouldn’t that just be hilarious” “wouldn’t he just love it if we took him to the locker rooms for some fun...”

patton ignores them in hopes that they’ll get bored and leave him alone

they don’t, and not a second later, he’s pinned against a locker by one of those jocks, and their wicked grins are almost enough to make him scared

luckily enough, he’s been in enough fights to know some self defense techniques

but he isn’t able to use them because he hears someone shout from a little down the hall

“hey! you leave him alone!”

and that voice is virgil’s for some godforsaken reason

and one of the jocks snarls and goes to take care of their interruption

a few moments later, patton sees virgil flung into the lockers by a punch to the face, followed by a few choice slurs, and something in him just fucking snaps

he sharply kicks up at the same time that he pushes forward, successfully dislodging the boy holding him to the lockers with a shout

one of the teachers finally comes out, but it just so happens that it’s at the same moment that patton breaks one of the jocks’ nose...

and they all get in so much trouble

logan scolds the hell out of patton when he arrives to pick him up because it’s only the first day of school, damn it!

but patton isn’t listening because he hears these adults--the parents of the jocks--screaming things like “how dare you do this to or baby boys!” and he sees them yelling these things at virgil and he does That Thing again

he storms up to them and just shouts at them

“listen here, you shit stains! virgil did absolutely nothing wrong! he was trying to protect me from those asshole sons of yours! they physically and verbally harassed me, and they threatened to sexually assault me! your ‘baby boys’ are nothing but menaces to society!”

and with that, he stomps out of the school, brushing past logan, who witnessed the whole rampage

to be continued....... IN PART TWO

@residentanchor, you wanted to hear this idea..... so!

#m speaks #m writes things #moxiety #patton sanders #virgil sanders #logan sanders #roman shows up i PROMISE #punk!patton au

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afictionaladventure16 · 5 years

Text

The Pen Pal Project (Chris Evans x Latina!OC)

Masterlist

Previously on The Pen Pal Project...

Warnings: Foul language

Word Count: 1,919

Chapter 8

Letter #8

November 14th, 2017

“What’s up with her?” Andrea asks as she raises her eyebrows at Irene.

“She’s sad because she ended things with Omar,” Irene states.

“Aww, no more toxic dick?” Andrea said as she walked over to Julie, “I’m gonna miss those toxic ass stories.”

Julie rolled her eyes, “it’s better this way.”

“Maybe we should have a funeral for the dead vagina that Julie is going to have,” Destiny added as she looked through the fridge.

“Maybe not for long,” Irene said with a small smirk.

“What do you mean?” Andrea asked as she jumped onto the couch next to Irene, giving her a ‘tell me everything’ look.

Julie glared at Irene, “Irene,” Julie said in a warning tone.

“Don’t tell me, Julie has another man already!” Destiny said as she walked over to us, holding Julie’s sour worms and some bag of chips. Julie snatched the bag of sour worms from Destiny, causing her to gasp.

“My sour worms, puta,” Julie said with a small smirk.

“Ugh, I forgot how territorial you can be with those things!” Destiny rolled her eyes

Julie rolled her eyes at her crazy friends, they were pretty wild but that’s how they are. Sometimes inappropriate but hey, Julie wouldn’t have it any other way. “So, what’s the plan for today anyway?” Julie wasn’t too happy that her friends came barging into her room at seven in the morning on her three day weekend off from work.

“Forget the plan! What do you meeaannn, Iireeennnee!!” Andrea yelled as she grabbed Irene’s arm in desperation.

Julie groaned, “Fine, tell them!”

Irene giggled, “Julie has a pen pal and it’s a guy!”

“A pen pal?” Andrea asked, “Oh my gosh, what if he’s your soulmate!?”

“Or a murderer,” Destiny added.

Julie looked over at Destiny, “exactly!”

“It’s okay if he is, I can solve your murder… just like wait until I finish getting my degree, though.”

“Yeah, I’ll totally wait to get murdered just so you can solve it, Des,” Julie said sarcastically with a small eye roll. said excitingly as sat next to Julie, “what’s he like?”

“Tell me all about him!” Andrea said excitingly as sat next to Julie, “what’s he like?”

Julie rolled her eyes, “He’s just a friend, leave it alone, okay? I’m only doing this because my therapist wants to try things out with this new project she is doing.”

Andrea sighed, “you’re no fun.”

Julie ignored Andrea, as much as she loved the girl, she hated how desperate Andrea was to find Julie’s “Soulmate” but Julie was starting to think that soulmates probably weren’t a thing.

“Well, since you have the weekend off, we went ahead and got tickets to Disneyland,” Destiny said with a grin.

“What!?” Julie exclaimed.

“Yee, we’re leaving tonight for the hotel, maybe go to the park for a ride or two, so pack a bag, girlie!” Andrea said.

“But wh-“

“Because you’re constantly working, you never get days off in a row like this and with everything… we just think you need this nice break,” Andrea explained.

“But what about your kids?”

Andrea rolled her eyes, “Girl, I’ve been needing a day off too! My husband has them handled for the weekend, he’s probably gonna take them to see his mom down in San Diego for the weekend.”

Julie smiled at her friend and gave her a hug, “Thank you guys!”

“But for now we have to get you two packing!” Destiny said as she pointed at Julie and Irene.

Julie went to her room to start packing, it’s been a couple of days since she’s sent her letter, she had planned on going to the P.O. box today to check if she had a letter. She decided to just check as soon as she came home. This is probably the first that Julie wouldn’t be replying right away and it made her feel anxious.

November 16th, 2017

Throughout the weekend, the girls had fun, and to end the last night of the weekend they all decided to go to Club 33.

“Oooo, that boy right there is Dominican!” Destiny said as she smirked at the boy that winked as he walked passed her.

“How do you know that?” Irene asked as she looked over at Destiny.

“Girl, Dominicans can just sense it,” Destiny said making everyone in the group laugh.

“Ugh, I so needed this!” Julie said as she downed the last of her drink, “And tomorrow I have to go back to work, to life…” To Chris, she thought. She let out a small smile, her heart felt anxious to get home and read the letter. She didn’t want to feel that way but it felt nice to just pour her heart out to someone and for them to just listen without giving some type of medical analysis to what is going on.

“What’s with that smile?” Andrea asked as Destiny and Irene walked over to a small booth.

Andrea and Julie stayed at the counter, “nothing,” Julie said brushing it off.

“It’s about the guy you’re writing too isn’t it?” Julie sighed, “why won’t you let yourself be happy for a bit? Stop worrying about the outcomes and go with the flow!”

“Not sure if you’ve met my family or not,” Julie knew very well that Andrea has indeed met her family, including her mother, “but I’ve learned that going with the flow leads nowhere.”

“You’re not her,” Andrea said softly, “you will never be her. I don’t know how many times I have to tell you but I believe that you are a way better person than your mother ever was! You just need to realize that.”

Julie sighed, “Can we just enjoy the night? Please?” Andrea gave Julie a small nod, they grabbed their drinks and walked over to the booth.

November 17th, 2017

Julie looked up as she heard the bell ring, notifying employees that a customer had just walked in, she looked up and saw Mr. William walking over to the counter.

“Good morning, Mr. William!” Julie said with a smile, “Same as last time?”

“Yes, ma’am!” Mr. William said with a smile.

Julie poured him a cup of coffee, “You know, Mr. William, I never got your first name.”

“Henry,” He said with a smile.

“Henry? I have a cousin named Henry, he’s stationed in Spain.”

“Spain?” Mr. William chuckled, “Let me guess, Airforce?”

“Marines, actually.”

Mr. William gave her a small nod, “I was in the Army, back in Vietnam.”

“Oh really?” Julie began wiping down the area next to Mr. William on the counter as he told her stories about his time in Vietnam. Julie noticed how slow it was so she decided to just sit next to him after serving him his food, and listen to him talk. Mr. William liked the company and he liked telling the young girl about his experiences. Once Mr. William had finished eating he told the young girl that he had to go the hospital down the block, he explained that he was a volunteer baby cuddler at the hospital.

Julie never knew this and found Mr. William to be one of the sweetest man she has ever met.

Julie said her goodbyes to her coworkers after her shift, she grabbed her car keys and walked towards her car. She finally was able to go to the post office, she had been waiting all weekend for this moment.

She pulled up next to the post office, She walked inside the post office and opened her P.O. box. Julie smiled to herself as she grabbed the letter. She walked back towards her car to open the letter.

Dear JuJu,

Fine, I’ll give you five chances then. But I doubt you’ll even get it right, but if by chance you do figure out my nickname, I suppose I can give you a prize. And what is this prize you might ask? My last name. I’ll tell you my last name if you figure it out. And if you don’t figure it out then I guess, we’ll just have to see.

I wonder, have you sat down with Mr. William, yet? I would like to know how that went.

Julie, do you have any idea how fucking (excuse my language) talented you are? My God! I was moved to tears! I am cherishing this photo you sent me! Honestly, Julie, you have an eye for this! I hope you continue taking photos and sharing them with me.

Well, if we ever meet, I promise that my sense of humor won’t be dry. ; )

Also, It’s not a metaphor! Haha, but I know what you mean! I swear I can be the same way, trying to figure out if something means something else. Damn, English class. Getting us all traumatized.

Now I don’t want lessons, but I have always wanted to learn Spanish and if it makes you laugh then I guess I can deal with it. You’ve been to Europe? What part? How was it?

Sounds like me and my siblings! They sure are a pain sometimes, though. Right? But I sure do love them.

How dare you call my question weak!

I just did an eye roll. But I have to admit, this question is way better than mine. So, I would have to choose…. Huh… Unicorn. Unicorns can fly, right? If so then that. Why? Because Unicorns can fly. Just imagine that!

Since you gave me such an amazing question, I have to try my best to top that one! So….

My question to you is…. Favorite Disney character and why???

Toodles.

P.S. I would like to see this wrath once, just to know what this wrath looks like.

P.P.S.

I understand that I have dealt with/dealing with, anxiety as well. I’ve read many self-help books and I’ve done so many things just to help with it and I just have to say that your brain is noisy, everyone's brain is. But sometimes we have to stop listening to that noise, it’s what's causing this suffering and I know it’s hard to just stop, but trust me, you can learn. What are some things help you calm down when you have an anxiety attack? For me, I know I always try to calm myself down. Talk through it.

As for your mother…

What she did, it’s just, I don’t even know how to explain how I felt when I read that part of the letter, Julie. I am truly sorry that you have to go through that emotional trauma. I’m here for you, so let it all out, let out everything that’s on your mind when you think about your mother because I am here reading every single word.

But I believe you’d be an amazing mother; I know now that you learned from her mistakes. You care about these children that don’t even exist; you already want to do so much for them. It means something, Julie.

Would you ever want to meet your biological father? Have you met him?

You’re welcome, Julie. I care about you, even if we haven’t officially met. I still care.

Julie smiled at the letter, she couldn’t wait any longer as she grabbed the pen and notebook she had told herself to keep in her car exactly for this. She began writing the letter. She put it in an envelope and sent it out soon after, knowing it might not be sent until tomorrow since the post office was going to close soon. But still, she couldn’t wait for a reply.

Taglist: @kelbabyblue @cocomel0613 @thejemersoninferno @crisferorav

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veridium · 5 years

Text

sweetest goodbye

@bitchesofostwick I’m literally garbage and spewed this fluff onto my computer so here. it helped that your beautiful torturous fluff from last chapter was so so so good and inspired me.

PART 8 OF THE TRASH CAN FIRE COLLEGE AU FIC.

ON THIS EPISODE: The day after their party escapade, and Olivia has a choice to make -- take Cassandra up on her bet and show up at the Church, or skip out and move on for good. She makes a pact with Ellinor that they will do something to clean up the messes they’ve made; how successful that ends up being, well, only time will tell.

part 1 // part 2 // part 3 // part 4 // part 5 // part 6 // part 7

The worst part is the dry throat that comes when she first wakes up after a Friday of drinking and poor decisions. It always makes her cringe and curl into her bed face-down, until it’s too much to bear and she has to get up and drink a hydroflask’s worth of water from the dorm bathroom sink. That is, unless she wakes up and the first thing she sees is Ellinor’s feet -- which, incidentally, is what happens the morning after their night from hell.

She blinks her heavy lids open and sees them in all their glory: the chipped hunter green nail polish on her big toes, the crocheted anklet hanging on by a worn-down knot. She stretches her arms up and papers crackle -- taco bell wrappers no less.

She groans and pokes Ellinor in her ankle. Her ticklish instincts lead her to flinch and retract a foot into the comforter. A growl from the other end of the dorm twin bed.

“Errrrghhhh,” Ellinor stiffs, rolling over. “Fuck me.”

“You’re the only person I could wake up next to in bed and still be a hundred percent sure I did anything but that,” Olivia mutters back, rubbing her eyes with her knuckle. “What time is it?”

“Hell if I know.”

“Ugh.” She reaches back and slaps her hand a couple times on the nearby dresser searching for what feels like a phone. Finding it, she holds it up over her face only to drop it on her forehead. She winces and cusses under her breath before turning the screen on. “It’s...shit, it’s 2.”

“Too early.” Ellinor curls back over against the wall.

“Ellinor.”

She only burps, followed by a groan of disgust. “My burps taste like fire sauce…”

Olivia sighs heavy and pulls her arms up and over the blanket, folding them against her chest as she stares up at the ceiling. Trying to remember everything: the house party she had no idea about until it was too late. The whiskey -- the excessive whiskey. Cassandra arguing like an asshole in the hall, and her stupid bet. Getting in the car with Theia while Josie asks her what’s wrong over and over. Their arrival at a gay bar and her ordering another double old-fashioned to add insult to injury. Dancing on...tables? Tables.

That is where her memory goes hazy. She wishes it got like that sooner in the evening so she wouldn’t have to think about it all.

“Are you...gonna go?” Ellinor asks, seemingly reading her thoughts.

“I don’t think I should,” she replies honestly, exhaling. “I’m in no shape to be judged for all my mortal sins.”

Ellinors tucks herself deeper into the bed against her borrowed pillow. “Mmph. I don’t think she’s expecting a Saint to show up.”

“I don’t think she’s expecting me to show up at all.”

“Could you blame her, dude?”

She’s right. Grumpy, but right. It would be on-brand for Olivia to keep with her tradition of finding the exit and call it good. She checks her apps on her phone, taking it off DO NOT DISTURB. New messages from several people -- Theia, with a thumbs up after she confirmed they got back to the dorm. Her Dad, wondering why she hasn’t called. The student she’s tutoring wanting to reschedule...again. Then, Cassandra’s name comes up. A message sent at 9am:

--I can send you the address, if you’re planning on coming.

That’s it. That’s all. No tastefully added smiley emoji, no greeting like she would before. She used to say ‘good morning’ and ‘goodnight.’ Olivia kind of misses it. But then her voice saying ‘Goodnight, Olivia’ with her understated smugness echoes in her head and compounds her nausea.

“What about Cullen?” Olivia diverts, tossing her phone onto her stomach. “You gonna handle that mess you made?”

“I didn’t make a mess,” Ellinor says resentfully. “I...I got out of hand, and ejected myself before it could get worse. I am glad I did.”

“Ellinor,” Olivia peers down at her, only seeing her bedhead of dark hair against the pillowcase. “He did the cool thing. You know, we like guys who do that cool thing. Right?”

Maybe that is the issue -- he was doing the cool thing. He always does the cool thing. Ellinor doesn’t know where to look for her excuse explaining why she blocks him out. There’s no idle vice, no insincerity, no pretentiousness. No foul taste in music or cinema. He’s just fine. Perfectly fine.

“Look,” Olivia adds, squirming in place. Her head aches. “I’ll cut a deal. I’ll...address my mess, if you address yours. You owe me that after lying to me like a dumbass. Right?”

Ellinor is quiet for a moment. Olivia expects her to say “nuh-uh” and go back to sleep, or start snoring without a word at all. But, to her credit, she rolls back over and peers down her nose, frowning but with acceptance.

“Fine.”

“Fine. You have until tomorrow night at Midnight to do it. Then, we are to have our shit swept under the rug where it belongs.” Olivia smirks bittersweetly, and pecks the side of her foot. “Asshole. I can’t believe you pulled that on me. I hate you.”

“I know. But it was pretty fucking hilarious.” Ellinor stretches her arms up above her head, hands in fists. “Besides, you were hot.”

She is right. She was hot. But dammit if Cassandra did not show a single lick of care in that regard. 2:00pm means she has an hour and a half to get her act together, whatever it is. Should she be spiteful and come dressed like a demonic sorceress with a need for a virgin sacrifice? Or should she play along and maybe not go full throttle-antagonist just yet?

Ellinor pinches her in the calf. “Don’t scare the Preacher into locking you up and exorcising you, please.”

Well, there’s her verdict.

TWO HOURS LATER…

For the second time in the weekend Olivia finds herself standing in front of a building she has no interest in entering, and yet, she is tasked with doing just that. Cassandra’s text was nice, but unnecessary; everyone knew where their Church was. It is a gaudy one, with bells, cobblestone facade, and all. It’s annoying, and old looking, and smells on the inside. At least, that is what she remembers from the last time she set foot in it when she was sixteen.

It’s 4:15. She’s late. But it’s fine. She tugs at the turtleneck collar of her black, crushed velvet dress than goes down to her knees. Around her waist is a black slim belt, and she’s wearing the same kind of black sheer tights from the night before. A compromise between wanting to stick it to Cassandra and accommodate the situation. And oxford heels, the most non-emo punk pair of shoes she owns. Her hair is in a neat top bun but she secretly wishes she had worn it down. Now she won’t be able to hide her face around its waves.

In the front where there is a podium by double doors, and the carpet is blue like she remembers. The side offices look locked up and desolate. She expects there to be several busybody Jesus-Juicers singing or praising the Lord on this fine Saturday evening, and yet, the place is so quiet she could hear a pin drop and scream Hallelujah.

She goes through the two doorways leading to the main chamber, where the two sides of long benches span down the length of the room towards the altar steps. The place is one of those Churches that tries its best to look old despite probably being built no farther back than 1995. Stained glass windows depicting sacred scenes up along the walls, flying buttresses that are probably just mostly plaster, and wooden pews.

She walks until she’s about halfway down the main processional walkway and stops. In the corner is the organ, the one she was forced to play on once. She was learning piano at the time, but her Mother thought she would do well to learn hymns via musical appreciation. It did not go well. The songs she learned were so repetitive, always so mundane to her kid self who wanted to be entertained. Just as she zones out into her childhood of repressed manners, a sound of creaking out from the other side of the altar stage. A door opening fast. In a flash Cassandra appears, dressed in black slacks like the ones she wore the night of the concert and a black button-down dress shirt. Tucked in. Of course. She looks surprised. Like, honestly surprised.

Olivia blinks. “Hello!”

Cassandra just stands there, looking like the Holy Ghost has stopped by with a cup of coffee and wearing a little, black, long-sleeved velvet dress.

Olivia swallows and starts walking to her. Slowly like a choir processional member. “Cat got your tongue?”

“I…” Cassandra gulps, looking back behind her fast before she refocuses on her guest. “I didn’t think you’d come.”

She furrows a brow. “Is that not what you do when you are invited somewhere?”

“Well, yeah, but…when you didn’t text back, I kind of just assumed...” she looks around again, this time back towards the doors from whence Olivia came. What, is she scared someone is gonna jump out and attack?

“You okay? You look…” Olivia comes around the front row and up the two steps, now standing parallel with her.

“Oh! Uh,” she clears her throat and cradles her arms under her chest. “Yeah. I think I just maybe...uh, nevermind. H-how are you? Did your night get better after your friends came and picked you up?”

It must have. Olivia can’t remember for sure, which is a good sign. Usually. “Agh, yeah,” she smirks, shrugging to one side, “we just did our typical nonsense. I’m still kinda out of it.”

“Right. I had a little too much rum and coke last night, myself.”

“Oh, you do drink rum?”

“Yeah. How did you…”

“I smelled it on your br--I mean, uhm,” she rubs her wrist to her throat and looks toward the altar mosaics. “Cool...cool stuff here. They still have the same sh--I mean, things, here, from what I remember.” She kicks at the ground with her shoe heel.

Cassandra grins, and steps closer. “I mean, religion kind of attests the adage ‘if it isn’t broke, don’t fix it.’”

“I think quite the contrary,” Olivia meanders towards the table where the bread and water plates are laid out, clean and pristine, “you would be unpopular around Martin Luther and his friends.”

A chuckle. “Touche.” Cassandra arrives at her side and locks eyes with her. There’s no anger in her expression -- quite the opposite, actually. A reserved hopefulness.

“Listen, Cass--”

“You don’t have to say anything.” Cassandra shakes her head, sliding her hands into her pant pockets. “I get it. Church girl with a mean face turns up and shows interest. Must be an Inquisition on the wings.”

Olivia laughs nervously, tucking nonexistent hair behind her ears. “You said it, not me.” She looks back behind her at the empty room, so spacious and expansive, yet she feels closed in. “I...I admit I’m confused, though.”

“Confused? Why?”

“It’s just. I don’t know. You’re caring an awful lot about a simple friendship…” she scans the windows again, noticing the stark colors of the peoples’ clothes. “Especially one not founded on spiritual salvation.”

She lets her gaze fall on Cassandra, who looks rather engrossed in something. Something...someone, apparently, as her eyes are only on her. Another fleeting moment where Olivia thinks she sees the truth in her intentions, but can’t be sure. It’s one foot in, one foot out, and a door ready to slam on her fingers for daring to touch. But she smiles, and plays coy.

“What’s the matter?”

“...Nothing,” Cassandra’s brows lift, her eyes clearing as she looks away. “Hey, um, I did ask you here for a reason. If you have the time, I’d like to show you something.”

“Oh?” Olivia twists her shoulders, “is this where I meet Trevor?”

Cassandra walks towards the door she came in from, waving a hand casually as an invitation to follow her. “We don’t have a Trevor here. The band leader’s name is Peter, for your information.”

Olivia takes one last look at her surroundings before coming along. “Ah, Peter. Of course. What a non-denominational name.”

She hears another laugh as they walk through the door and down the narrow, white-painted hallway. It’s barely enough space to walk side-by-side, but they manage. Occasionally their shoulders brush, and Olivia merely clings tighter to her coat. They go a right, then a left, and then up a flight of steps, until another pair of double doors appears.

Cassandra looks at her with another careful grin before opening only one of them. She holds it for her, and Olivia glances at her with suspicion before walking inside. That suspicion melts into wonder as she enters a library hall. The tall shelves line the walls, only interrupted by tall, square windows. There’s a philodendron hanging off to one side, flourishing. The standalone rows of shelves match the dark wood on the walls. Books upon books fill the rows to the brim, and to the right there are study desks with lamps. The natural light coming in makes it all look like a portal into the 1940s.

She walks in and stomps her heel to a halt, mouth softly agape. Part of her wants to make a wisecrack, like ‘oh, is this where it’s all held before they burn it?’ but the part of her that prevails is curiosity.

“Why did I never see this room when I went here?” she spits out, turning around to face her. She leaning against the door frame, hands still in her pockets.

She shrugs. “It wasn’t here then. A couple years back the Church started housing missionaries, and they needed a place to study and hold meetings. My family is a patron of the Church, so, they helped furnish the renovation.”

“...Helped?”

Cassandra chuckles and steps in. “Alright. Pushed it. It’s one of the few things my family has done with their money that I don’t instinctively despise.”

“Are these all books on religion, then? Like, fifteen hundred different copies of the Bible?” Olivia looks at the closest shelf, trying to figure out for herself, but it’s just far enough for the spine titles to be unreadable.

“Very funny,” Cassandra stops a couple away “but no. They’re a lot of things. Religion, philosophy, law, poetics. Sometimes college and high school students borrow for their classes. I know some of the surrounding neighborhood kids come here to have a quiet place, too. It’s pretty neat.”

That is neat. Damn. Olivia looks at her and for the first time, genuinely smiles. No pretense, no clever quip. Just agreement. She remembers what it was like in the back of Cullen’s car, when they were still just small-talk and half-hearted laughs. That was what, a week ago? It feels like a month has passed.

“Is this where you bring all the ladies, then? To your cool little hideaway with hanging plants in the windows and a bunch of dead Greek men’s opinions at the ready?” She takes a risk in asking that. A gentle tease, but for someone not receptive to such an insinuation, a litmus test.

Cassandra blushes and rolls her lip. While she buffers, Olivia side-steps towards the shelf for a closer look. She lets a finger tug at a book -- something on the Middle Ages something-or-other, all the while her heart hangs on the response Cassandra is denying her. She holds the cover out to examine it, and footfalls sound off behind her.

“I come here to do assignments. Also to get away, if I am being honest,” she finally speaks, and her answer is not a correction to Olivia’s implication. Hopeful results indeed.

“It seems like an ideal hiding place,” she agrees, “does God provide wifi?”

“If God is AT&T, then yes.”

They look at each other, and Olivia quells a laugh in her throat. She has to hand it to her, she has a good sense of humor contrary to her stiff, formal exterior. Perhaps she has underestimated her.

“You know, I can’t really figure you out,” Cassandra changes the subject, thereby sliding the spotlight.

“What?” Olivia peers over her shoulder at her.

“I don’t know,” she frowns neutrally, shaking her shoulders again. “Agh, Nevermind.”

Olivia watches her as she places the book back on the shelf. She goes from exuding cool, some would even say strong-arm confidence, to falling back on her words. If anything, it’s Olivia that is left at a loss for figuring out her companion. But she won’t admit to that. That would mean she’d want to know in the first place. Instead, she swings around with a step and faces her again.

“In uh, in any case, since I see a deficit of weird men and Priests ready to douse me in Holy Water, I think you may have won a bet. So, Cassandra Pentaghast,” Olivia pulls at her dress on either side and makes a mock curtsy. “You have my profound apologies.”

“Thank you. I won’t say it was an easy feat.”

“Hah!” Olivia swings her foot to the left, preparing to walk away. Before she does though, she goes out on a limb and reaches out, taking Cassandra’s hand into hers. “Come on, show me around. There’s gotta be something vaguely socialist in here!” incessant in her teasing, but warmer this time.

Cassandra slouches, her head going back a bit as she grins. But she lets herself get pulled in, and for a moment all goes rosey and Olivia’s heartbeat skips. They’re gonna explore bookshelves, and pick out ones for each other, and argue, and quote excerpts, and somehow they’ll end up on the floor with stacks surrounding them, and someone will offer to order a pizza because hours have passed and they’re suddenly starving. Then they’ll argue over whether pepperoni is better with or without pepper flakes, and she’ll take her shoes off and walk on her toes across the wood. It’s gonna be fantastic, and maybe this once, she won’t sabotage the good time.

But then, A voice calls from the hall. Shit, had she spoken too soon? Was that her plan, to get the bet win and then impose the wrath of the Holy Church?

Cassandra flinches and falls back to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with her as a man comes in, their hands parting instantly. He’s also dressed head-to-toe in dark slacks, a dress shirt, but with the addition of a belt and polished men’s dress shoes. A man with an aged, calloused face and salt-and-peppered hair. He has sunglasses in his hands and a Rolex-looking watch on his wrist. He steps in imposingly.

“Cassandra. There you are,” he half-scolds, a heavier version of the accent that Cassandra has.

Cassandra’s voice stutters a bit. “Hello, Uncle.”

“Did you get any of my calls? We’re late for dinner. Who is this?” He motions his glasses at Olivia. Before either of them could answer, though, he does. “Wait...I know you. You’re the Sinclair’s daughter...O...Ophelia…?”

“Yes, my name is Olivia, Sir,” she says, disguising her unimpressed attitude with palatable manners. “I’m sorry, it was my fault. I kept Cassandra behind. I needed to return a book.”

Cassandra peers at her in muffled confusion, but does not correct her. Meanwhile, he gives Olivia the once-over, mouth open as he presses his tongue to his lower teeth. Not impressed. She knows all-too-well that face when people realize who she is. It’s no stranger. It still stings though.

“Right, well,” he nods. “Always a pleasure to see those of our flock that have gone wayward make their….necessary, returns.” Condescending prick. “Cassandra, the car is out back. Come on. I’m sure your friend can see herself out, or stay and continue to her...education.”

Olivia can feel the growing heat of resentment stewing beside her, but she keeps her cool.

“Alright, I will be down in a minute. Can I say goodbye at least?” Cassandra manages, calm but displeased.

He shoots her a concerned look, but steps back, clearly not all that invested in the intricacies of his niece’s misadventures when he could admonish her in private. Olivia is all-too-familiar with that method. He waves at her like he’s saying goodbye to a sales clerk or something, and leaves.

“So...that’s…”

“Yes.”

“Uh huh. Can I…”

“You can.”

She mutters in relief. “Asshole.”

Cassandra laughs under her breath and turns toward her. “That’s his thing, I’m sorry. He’s right though. I do have to go. I just…” she rocks back on her heels in a quick-paced rhythm as she bites her lip. “Does this mean I get another shot?”

“Another shot?”

A voice from faraway again. Him, probably saying her name. Cassandra looks but hardly wastes more than a second. “I can’t get into it now. Not here. I just…”

Olivia opens her mouth to say something,but she too struggles to find words. She does her best though, for the sake of reassurance. “I mean, totally. Yeah, we can be friends.”

Friends. Dammit. Dammit, dammit, dammit.

That’s all that’s needed, though, to make Cassandra grin, and her face beam a little bit more like it had before her Uncle interrupted them. “Good. I’ll text you. Uh, see you soon, then?”

“Yeah, for sure,” Olivia smiles. “Uh, you like hugs?”

“Um...oh, yeah, that’s fine.” They are timid at first. Olivia, oddly enough, opts to wrap her hands around Cassandra’s neck as opposed to the quintessential side-and-shoulder platonic model. It makes her stomach flip as Cassandra wraps her arms around her waist, and even though it lasts no more than a second or two, it’s enough to make her want to know what it’s like for an hour, not just a breath. She smells like that Old Spice. And her grip is so strong and careful at the same time.

And just like that, she’s out of her hold and walking out of the door. Leaving her, alone, in a Church -- in the DEPTHS of a Church -- and she didn’t have to kidnap her to do so. What kind of skills did this girl have up those pressed-and-tailored sleeves of hers?

All by her lonesome, Olivia looks around and then deflates. She goes to her phone and pulls up her fellow oath-keeper’s name, and sees a new message already waiting for her.

--Do I have to rescue you yet?

She giggles to herself, and types. Turns out Ellinor was waiting, and her response is instantaneous:

Olivia: --No. But I’m heading back to campus.

Ellinor: --Everything ok?

Olivia: --Yeah...I think??

Ellinor: --Wait, wtf?!

Olivia: --I’ll talk about it later.

She walks out into the hall, and just as she is about to go downstairs, her phone goes off again. This time, it’s Cassandra:

--Hi. Sorry, but, I have to be in this car for an hour. You have any song suggestions?

She smiles and bites her lip. This is a critical decision. Should she play it cool and send something technically good, but without implicit symbolism? Cassandra seems like the kind of person who likes more easygoing, measured tunes. Not heavy and raw, or dark and doom-wishing. She taps on her phone case for a second, blushes, and pulls up the Spotify link:

--Songs About Jane is always good to revisit. Start with track 12. Good luck!

She then goes to her own app and turns on the track, titled, “Sweetest Goodbye,” and continues her exit with headphones in.

#college au #adventures of ellinor and olivia #friend fic!#ellinor trevelyan #olivia sinclair #modern!olivia

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rebelliouswhirlpool · 6 years

Text

Because of a Cat

Lapidot AU Week Day 2: Flower Shop/Tattoo artist AU

Day 1 Post. AO3.

@lapidot-week

On Barn Street, there were two business that absolutely all the Beachtown (a small neighborhood in the larger Crystalopolis) locals knew, Painted Wings Tattoo Shop and Pumpkin’s Premium Flowers. Most outsiders to the neighborhood would wonder why these two small businesses, of all the unique, little shops clustered in that area, garnered the most attention. Some locals would spin a story about a decades-old feud. Others would just shrug and say they liked each of the shops’ services respectively. Most would roll their eyes. The owner of the small bakery/cafe a street over, Pearl, would sigh, share an exhausted look with her wife, the local jeweler who specialized in rare metals, Bismuth, and say it was because of a cat.

Some years back, an ex-Diamond Authority Officer, Peridot, arrived with her fat, orange-striped cat, Pumpkin, and started a flower shop selling whatever she could grow in the small backyard behind her shop. Most eyed her warily, as the Diamond Authority wasn’t exactly favored in this part of town, but she was friends with the youngest child of the DeMayo family, Steven. Since the DeMayos had been a part of the neighborhood as long as anyone could remember, it was communally decided that Peridot could stay. And then, it was found out that, if you spent just five minutes with Peridot, you’d learn she was just as weird as everyone else, so she quickly fit right in. Plus, everyone loved Pumpkin, who won a couple awards for Sweetest Cat Ever, which Peridot proudly hung behind the counter of her flower shop.

More recently, one Lapis Lazuli, also a friend of young Steven and someone who didn’t share much about herself, moved in to start Painted Wings Tattoos. Unlike Peridot, who’d quickly involved herself in every aspect of Beachtown life, Lapis kept to herself. She only really travelled out of her apartment above her shop to buy groceries and the occasional drink/donut combo from the Big Donut on the street corner.

That is, until Pumpkin decided to intervene in her life. And Peridot’s.

“For the last time, I do NOT have a crush!” Peridot slammed her hands down on the counter, causing her to lose her balance. The stool she used to be able to see over the counter wobbled, but, by now, Peridot was an expert in not letting it tip over.

From where she browsed that day’s selection of flowers, Bismuth laughed. “Sure you don’t, shorty.” She gestured to the flowers. “This all you got today? It’s our anniversary in a week but—”

“Your bouquet will be ready at the agreed upon pickup time of 9 am.” Peridot interrupted, relieved to jump back to the familiarity of work orders.

“I know, I know, but Pearl’s being having such a hard time getting her latest tart recipe juuust right. She won’t stop until it’s absolutely perfect.” Bismuth looked back to Peridot. “You know how she can get.”

Peridot nodded. There were Reasons she dreaded when Pearl came into the shop looking for flowers for Bismuth. She, Peridot, was the only perfectionist allowed to reign in Pumpkin’s Premium Flowers. Absolutely no one else ever was. Including Pearl. Who always, always tested that rule.

“Anyway, I was thinking I’d get her something small and special now, you know as a pick me up.” Bismuth approached the counter. “So, you got anything good for me? And remember, absolutely no roses.”

“I am aware of the ban on roses you two have,” Peridot answered. She prided herself in remembering all her regulars’ preferences, yet these two never failed in reminding her of their “no roses” rule. It was irritating to constantly be reminded, but she could say she understood it. She herself, wasn’t fond of being reminded of the past.

Peridot glanced all around at her stock, but there was nothing particularly extraordinary in the showcased bunch. “I’ll check the back.” She told Bismuth.

In her backroom, Peridot checked over her more unusual flowers. Most of what she grew were the normal fair; tulips, roses, daffodils, the general flowers customers wanted. But she also did a bit of experimenting where she could and her results were one-of-a-kind. She had flowers with petals each a different color. Flowers that chimed little melodies when they bloomed. Flowers that were so saturated in color that they made you want to stare at them all day long.

While she determined that a small, potted violet with crystal-like petals that refracted light beautifully would do nicely for Bismuth, Peridot heard the merry ding-ling of her shop bell. She returned to the main room.

And her entire world ended.

Lapis Lazuli was in her shop. Lapis Lazuli, who ran the tattoo shop across the street, was in her shop. Also she was holding Pumpkin in her arms. But the main thing here was that she was In Peridot’s Shop.

Instead of her usual welcome that she gave customers, a garbled mess of sounds spilled from Peridot’s mouth.

“Right. Absolutely no crush here.” Bismuth rolled her eyes.

“I—errr—I—um—I—” Peridot clamped her mouth shut before my syllables escaped.

Lapis approached the counter. “This is your cat, right?” She held up Pumpkin, who mewed. “Cause he wandered into my shop.”

Peridot was still in ‘Most Beautiful Person Ever Is In My Shop And Holding My Cat’ world, so Bismuth replied for her, “Yeah, that’s Pumpkin. Everyone knows her so Peri here lets her wander around to say hi.”

“Oh, um, ok. She’s really cute.” Lapis placed Pumpkin down on the counter. Pumpkin padded over to Peridot, rubbed against her arm, and purred. “But I don’t really want her in my shop.”

Lapis looked once between Bismuth and Peridot, who still hadn’t managed to remember how to do words. “So, yeah, um, I’m gonna go now. See ya later.” She left.

After the door closed behind her, Peridot inhaled a breath that could have set a world record. Then, “BISMUTH DID YOU SEE THAT SHE WAS IN MY SHOP AND SHE TALKED TO ME AND SHE LIKED PUMPKIN AND SHE SHE SHE—” Peridot fell backward off her stool. She landed on the floor and just lay there. “That’s it. My life is officially complete.”

“So…you’re not going to ask her out?” Bismuth leaned on the counter. She gave Peridot a knowing look.

“I—how can I? I can’t even speak around her. I wouldn’t know where to even begin.”

This time it was Pearl who was in Peridot’s shop when Lapis came in. Things, for once, were actually not going horribly. Ok, Pearl had only been inside three minutes so there was still time since she usually spent an estimated 30-40 minutes being wishy-washy over what she would purchase, but still. Those first minutes were usually an indicator of how things would go and, today, they were good.

“Um, hey.” Lapis offered a noncommittal wave of her hand as she walked in. “Your cat wandered into my shop again.” She held up Pumpkin, who mewed accordingly.

“Oh, hello. You’re Ms. Lazuli, right? From across the street?” Pearl spoke before Peridot could muster herself to do the same. “Bismuth just loves her new tattoo. You’re a very talented artist.”

“Thanks.” Lapis shrugged. She put Pumpkin down on the counter. The cat sat down, and then looked up at all three of them expectantly.

“So, how did you get into art, if you don’t mind me asking?” Pearl apparently wanted to make smalltalk.

Peridot scratched Pumpkin behind the ears, unsure of whether to be thankful or not that she didn’t necessarily have to navigate taking part of the conversation.

Lapis answered, “I’ve always liked drawing and ink is a nice medium to work with. It seemed like a natural path to take.” She turned to Peridot. “Hey, Peridot right? I’ve been thinking, you’ve got some cool plants in here. Would it be ok if I came in and drew them sometime? I don’t have many floral designs and they’d make for some wicked inspiration.”

“Yes!” Peridot winced. That sounded waaaay too excited. She gulped and tried again. “Yes, yes of course. Come over any time!”

Lapis smiled at her. “Thanks.”

“Yup.” Peridot tried to lean on the counter, but her elbow missed and she fell.

“Nice.” Lapis laughed before helping her up. “So I’ll come over tomorrow then? Around 8?”

Peridot pretended that she wasn’t blushing. “Yes, yes that is compatible with my schedule.”

Pearl looked between the two, noted the looks they were giving each other, and smiled to herself. “I’ll just let myself out.”

The next day, Peridot took all her unique flowers (even the ones she wasn’t really prepared to part with—look, when you spend hours of your life tenderly caring for a plant, naming it, and talking to it… yeah there were some emotional investments in being a gardener that Peridot had not foreseen) and set them up in the shop. She stared at them. Did some mental calculations. Reset where each and every plant was. Stared at them again. Was about to move them a second time, but Lapis walked in then.

“Hello! I’m glad you’re here! I was just getting them all set up! But I can move them if you need me to!” Was she yelling? Why was she yelling? Peridot grabbed Pumpkin and hugged the cat to her chest as if that would soothe her nerves. Which it did. A little.

“Sweet. These look great.” Lapis offered Peridot a small smile and it melted her heart. “I’ll just be here.” She sat down on the spare stool Peridot had set out for her. “I won’t be in your way at all.” Pumpkin jumped up on her lap and Lapis stroked the cat.

“Oh, and Peridot? Would you like to go out with me sometime?”

#steven universe #lapidot AU week #lapidot week #lapidot #lapis su #peridot su #su pearl #su bismuth #a little late but im still proud of myself for keeping to this #whirlpools writing

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storymaker8931-blog · 5 years

Text

The Secret Revealed Season 1(It all started with a stormy night)

It was a dark and stormy night. I was walking home from visiting my moms. It had just started to rain, and I had forgotten to bring a sweater! I hate the rain so much!

I walked for a little bit more until I noticed something wired. Something that I couldn't possibly ignore.

I noticed that I was walking down the same street that my best friend lived on!

A thought crossed my mind as my eyes widened. I totally forgot! Destiny asked me to stop by at her house on my way home from my moms!

How could I have forgotten!

Destiny White, my best friend, and in my option the best person anyone could possibly meet!

She is the sweetest, most caring soul in the entire world.

I took a look around some more, noticing that it was getting quite dark and that I needed to get home before Dad got angry at me for being late.

I began walking again as something caught my eye. In the corner of my eye was an image of Destiny's house. She had a pretty big house so it was hard to miss! Even if you were trying to miss it most people can't stop them self's from catching a glimpse.

I offend told her how jealous I was whenever I came over to visit. Sometimes I was jealous because of how rich her parents are. But other days its mostly because her parents aren't divorced like mine. Her parents have good jobs that earn them lots of money and their relationships with each other are the strongest I have ever seen from a family.

Destiny's mom works most nights as a nurse and her father is a police officer. They work late shifts so Destiny asks me to come over a lot.

I slowly walked off the sidewalk and across the road. Destiny's house was right in front of me.

I walked up the driveway and up the steps to the front door.

I stared at the brown door as I took a deep breath. I slowly put my hand up to the door and knocked slowly.

(Knock)

I waited a few minutes no response. I waited for a little bit while I attempted to take a glance through the living room window.

I sighed as I noticed the window was shut, and covered by a red curtain. I found it strange how Destiny didn't answer. She had just told me before I left my house to come by on my way home. Why wasn't she answering?

What else could they be doing? I thought.

She said to me earlier that her parents were going to be home because of work and that it I am over it wouldn't be a problem.

I sighed once again as I made my way down the steps and slow down the driveway. I didn't have my phone on me so calling her wouldn't make a difference.

I'll just have to talk to her tomorrow at school.

I took one more glance at the front door before turning around and reached for my iPod that was in the front pocket of my jacket. I carefully took out my white headphones that I got my Christmas and slowly placed one into my left ear.

My eyes widened as I ear-shattering scream could be heard. I turned around, pulling my headphone out of my ear in shock as I traced the scream back to Destiny's house.

(Scream)

What had I just heard!

''Destiny''!'' I shouted as I ran across the street and up her driveway. I put my hand up to the door and knocked. I honestly didn't care how much noise I was making! Destiny is more important than a little noise!

''Open the door!'' I shouted

''Are you alright?!''

I waited a little bit until the door slowly creaked open. To my surprise, it was Claw.

His eyes were wide, he was breathing quickly and it looked like the right side of his face had been blackened. Did someone hurt him? I thought.

''What are you doing here?'' He asked his voice filled with fear and anger.

I stared at him for a second, then grabbed his shoulders in panic.

''What happened!'' I shouted as I shook him violently.

''What are you talking about Hunter!'' He shouted at me, as my hands were pulled off of him.

''Nothing happened!''

''Why are you here?'' He asked again, ignoring my question,

''I was just walking home from visiting my mom when I hear a scream come from the house!''

''Where's Destiny!'' I shouted, my breathing quickened as my heart rate increased.

''Take a breath Hunter! Me and Destiny were just watching a horror movie, while we wait for our parents to return home! ''

''That's all!'' He said as his breathing calmed.

''What happened to your face!'' I asked, placing a hand on the right side of his face. He clenched his teeth as pain filled in the face. I could tell that my touch had hurt him.

''It was an accident.''

''Just please leave.'' He said calmly, as the door slowly started to close.

''I'm sorry,'' I whispered as the door closed the rest of the way. I stood there frozen as the cold wind blew through my purple hair.

''I thought something was wrong,''

I watched as Claw waved goodbye to me, as the door closed behind him. I stood there for a few seconds as I took a deep breath.

Something isn't right here! I thought as I reached back into the jacket pocket, pulling out the iPod and the pair of white headphones. But do I do though?

Something isn't right here! But I will look silly if I call the police and Claw's story checks out. Dad wouldn't be happy if I returned home with two police offers asking to talk to him. He'd never let me out again If I did that.

I just need to tell myself that what he said is true and that everything is fine.

I slipped the headphones both into my ears as I played The Phoenix' By Fall Out Boy.

The sound of the music completely drew out any noise that could have been heard.

Who would have ever guessed that something more than just a horror movie was going on in that house?

I made it safely home that night. Nothing else happened.

I expected to get a phone call from Destiny in the morning. I hoped she would call to tell me how sorry she was about last night, but no call! not even from Claw or her parents.

I hoped that if she hadn't called that I would be able to talk to her at school, but when I asked around everyone gave me the same response. ''Sorry haven't seen her'' It was the same thing from everyone I asked.

I wanted so badly to give her a call myself but after being late coming home last night, Dad refused to let me have my phone until he came me a talking to when I got home.

The worry was practically eating me up the entire time I was school How was I suppose to focus on school when Destiny could be hurt!

I run out of school as soon as the bell rang. I hurried as fast as I could to Destiny. I thought everything would be alright when I got there but I was very wrong.

what I saw will haunt me forever.

There was a bunch of police officers, police cars and neighbors standing around her house. There were police crime tape and a few officers carrying evidence in their hands.

I went to ask what had happened and what the officer told me will forever be glued inside my mind.

''Destiny White and Claw White are missing.''

The Secret Revealed.

To Be Continued

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talesofealdancynedom · 3 years

Photo

The Stone King, in his human form; I draw a lot of mountains, so I thought this one should look a little different.

Tale 21: What The Wagon Was For (chapter 2 - Sunday Paper 2/7 ) part 6. Stories of wizards

mild violance

Life is hard without magic. Mundane life that is. People are common, everything is drab, and reliant on money or technology. Everyday, many people want a more adventurous and whimsical life. Full of colour, passion and awe. The rest of the people don’t mind feeding goats, fixing the wi-fi, planting flowers, or answering the phone. Because everyone is different; and what may give one-person satisfaction in their life, is the worst possible outcome for another. The joy of living in a world with magic, is that happily ever afters are real; it’s simply a matter of figuring out what that is for you.

Two years ago, in the mourning, Morgan biked to school, having only consumed toast. When he arrived, there was an announcement telling students to avoid the language wing, due to goblins in the wall by the girl’s washroom. Locker renovations had made a warm dark hole in the wall. A wizard would arrive in the afternoon, to clear these fey out of the school. Morgan, distracted by the intercom, was shoved into a locker by the regular bullies. Children his age could be mean. Morgan no longer remembers what about his appearance, or personality, they tormented him for. He just felt lucky he could use the bruises they gave him, to lie about the ones his father gave him. If it is not apparent, Morgan was one of those people who wanted a more whimsical life; it would be better then being alone.

The class Morgan had before lunch, was gym; He feinted. Just like his father, Morgan was prone to swooning in sudden bouts of syncope. Anything from emotional distress to low blood sugar could make him wake up on the nurses caught. The nurse was normally not there. Today she was however, and forced Morgan to drink some processed orange juice, asked about the bruises, and the cuts on his wrists. Morgan shrugged and left, leaving her wondering if she should file something. Outside the office was a vending machine; Morgan put in some silver, and put in the code for all-dressed crisps. He watched as the corkscrew mechanism slowly wound, pushing the bag towards the dark pit of the vending shoot. He could relate.

In third period, the math teacher gave everyone homework time. Half-way through, Morgan finished his assignments, and rose his hand for the teacher let him leave early to use the washroom. Morgan went to the language wing, and directly to the crevice with the lilac butterfly goblins. He opened the bag of crisps, and evenly distributed them to the stone children.

“You should leave. A wizard will be here in ten minutes, to remove you. Common folk kill fey they think or scary. Say hello to your father for me.” Morgan said in Elden Anglian, standing up. The goblins squeaked in agreeance, and left. The bell rang. Morgan walked to his next class as the halls filled. A different group of peers shoved him, face first, into a door; Laughing at him for feinting. The teacher sent him back to the nurse’s office, as he had a bloody nose. His bullies snickered in the back, causing the teacher to leer. Morgan had already left.

The Nurse called Morgan’s mother, who wasn’t home for another hour. She was landscaping for a perfectionist client again. The nurse handed the phone to Morgan.

“Sweety, I know you don’t like to eat, but finish your lunch and bike home. I picked up flour and butter yesterday, so you can bake if your homework is done. See you soon!” Icthya said. She was possibly the sweetest lady in the land.

“Ok.” Morgan said in a sad and quiet voice. He handed the phone back to the nurse, gathered his things and went home. Once home, Morgan baked a batch of two dozen thumbprint cookies, and then lay in his bed. He wanted to paint, but looking at the ceiling was easier.

Morgan’s parent would be home in thirty minutes. He stopped breathing. If they found out about the goblins at school, and suspected he went near them, his mother would burst into tears at the thought of him being close to ‘potentially deadly’ magic. Then his father would beat him, in a desperate attempt to deter him for going near anything mystical. It hadn’t even been twenty-four hours since the last percussion maintenance. At the end of Morgan’s bed, was a card table with an open ancient ledger. The used book retailers in The Capitol, would give him the old books because no one wanted them. They were old, in ancient writing no one could read, and were taking up space. In reality the shop keepers loved how happy Morgan looked when he received a dishevelled book no one wanted. The books were journals of long dead mages. Morgan wanted a whimsical and adventurous life, like the ones he read in those books. These journals helped him escape once he audited Understanding Old Anglian, from the local university. Morgan wanted to be a librarian; the magic history kind. But settled to be the regular kind, to comfort his parents and avoid abuse. He couldn’t stand his mother crying. Morgan wondered what his grandpa was like; If he hadn’t died in a fey hording incident, would Morgan and grandpa bond in the fey garden in grandma’s backyard? Would Morgan be in a magic academy to become a seer.

The Journal by Morgan’s feet, opened to a table of fours diagram, that made a temporary gate to the shadow veil if written with chalk, and bee’s wax candles were lit at each of the ten runes of the beast kingdoms. Morgan went into the front closet, grabbed the sidewalk chalk, and then the bee tea lights. His mother Ichtya liked bees. Morgan checked his watch; He had twenty-two minutes before his parents came home. He didn’t expect the spell to actually work.

Morgan found himself in a grayscale mountain side. At his feet, was a candle lamp, that flickered pale blue; to go back home. This must be the Shadow Veil, Morgan thought. No one was around, and it was perfectly quiet. He didn’t feel heat from the sun, nor the cold of wind. Morgan took a deep breath. Morgan noticed he still had a half bag of crisps in his trench pocket. He searched himself. Morgan was uncomfortable; He wasn’t used to being perfectly calm. It felt good. Addictively so. Morgan began to walk along the ridge, to the east. He noticed colours; stone fey. Quartz trolls, neon goblins, blue dwarves, and a glimmering silver bow and arrow set with amethysts. He recognized them from one of his journals; The unbreakable sword and bow, gifted to the royal house of Cynedom. His house. Morgan contemplated the fact he was the last in line to the house that once ruled the Grand West, when it was called Anglia. Along with his father, who still worked the heirloom ranch, which was now a tourist spot. Then Morgan asked a dwarf where he was. It shrugged and said: Home.

Morgan was now smiling, as he skipped along the rocky terrain that gave way to a forest edge. There was a flat stone platform to his right, engraved with the gate diagram but missing the stone kingdom rune. If it was open to a magic forest back in the Day Veil, it would be glowing; according to what Morgan had read. To his left, Morgan saw a stone chess table, with an unfinished game of chess on it. He examined the game, and moved the white knight. The ground began to rumbled and shake, causing Morgan to crouch and peer over the chess table. The pieces remained in their place. Then, a man of stone in traditional Grand East clothing, walked forward from the slope, and moved the black bishop to take the knight. He had a soft smile on his smooth marble face.

“My wife didn’t want to finish the game. Io can be a quitter when she is tiered. Want to play?” He said. Morgan smiled, and made a move. After two terns, he gave the living statue the rest of the bag of crisps. He ate them with enthusiasm.

“I had some children come home from Anglia today, telling me a mage boy named Morgan gave them these. They are wonderful! This is why I send my children to the Day Veil; Humans are so creative, and make things as wondrous as me and my siblings.” He chimed. Morgan moved his pawn into checkmate. It dawned on him that he might have won a game of chess against the literal Stone King, who was one of the ten sources of all magic in the world.

“Oh look! You won! Good job! You wouldn’t be that nice Morgan Cynedom boy by any chance?” the Stone King asked. “Can’t think of any reason why a human would visit my kingdom.” He explained further. Morgan nodded. He was stunned; He couldn’t remember the last time someone said ‘good job.’

“It was nice to play with someone; I don’t have friends. I’m glad your children are ok; My school almost sent a wizard to take care of them…” Morgan said.

“You’re not scared of me? And you enjoyed playing a game, and giving me and my children potatoes? Why I haven’t seen a mage in my kingdom for centuries; And the one that shows up, is sweeter then roasted parsnips.” The Stone King smiled. Morgan smiled back. He was having fun.

“Here, take this.” The Stone King said, handing Morgan a palm sized smooth stone, with the rune for stan on it.

“Oh, thanks.” Morgan giggled. He had no idea why the Stone King had just given him a rock, but it made him happy to get a gift. “I have to come back and see you again!” Morgan smiled.

“Can’t wait!” The Stone King said. Behind him, a woman of crystal looked at them with curiosity. Morgan waved good bye at both of them. He intended to go home, but instead, his feet carried him further east. This place was far better then home; He felt safe.

NEXT--->

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#art #tales of ealdan cynedom #story 21 #fantasy #stone king #morgan #icarus #icthya #short stories

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lilacmoon83 · 6 years

Text

Dreaming Out Loud

Chapter 29: Trial By Fire, Pt 2

Mary paced a bit, as they waited in the lobby of the courtroom. None of them were very hungry, so they sat on the benches at the park nearby. David felt a bit helpless, since he knew there was only so much he could do to ease her nerves. He grabbed her hand and she looked at him.

"I'm sorry," she said. He smiled gently.

"You have nothing to be sorry for. I just wish I could protect you from all this," he said.

"I know...but if I don't testify, Damon walks. And even if I do...he could still walk," she fretted.

"I know...I wish I could promise you that he'll pay for what he did. I hate that I can't," he said, as he gently pulled her toward him and then down into his lap.

"But I can promise that he will never hurt you...I'll do everything I can to make sure of it," he promised. She smiled.

"I know you will, my love," she replied, as she kissed him tenderly.

"I wish you didn't have to testify and relive that night," he said.

"Me either...but I can do this, because I know you're there," she said confidently. He smiled.

"That's another thing I can promise. Us...we're going to be together, no matter what. We're going to get married and be a family forever," he said, as he laced his fingers with hers and then kissed her again, this time in long, passion filled pecks to her lips. She kept her eyes closed and she relished being close to him, as he pressed his forehead against hers. And they stayed that way for several moments, until it was time to go back to the courthouse.

Regina glared at them from the window of her office, which had a perfect view of the park. Her hatred for them burned inside her just as passionately as ever.

Too many things had changed and even the bright spot that these two idiots could lose the trial wasn't enough to put her at ease.

First, that woman, Stephanie Kore, had come to town and practically taken Mary Margaret under her protective wing for reasons Regina wasn't able to discern. She had Sidney dig up all the records on this Ms. Kore that could be found. What he had found has been perfectly ordinary and well ordered records, professionally anyway. All the necessary credentials were in place. A teaching degree and a PHD in Botany, both from prestigious schools in Boston. But her personal life was generic. Her records provided vague information, like that she was born and raised in upstate New York, before moving to Boston for college. She never married, had no children, and seemingly kept to herself, despite being supposedly gifted in her field. And Regina was convinced it was all fake. She just needed to figure out how to get that information.

Then there was the new stranger that had rode into town on a motorcycle. She knew even less about this August W. Booth and that irked her to no end. Sidney's research on him had turned up even less. A sealed juvenile record, no documentation that he had ever graduated from any school, and no IRS records of him...which was just bizarre. Someone who was off the grid was a dangerous thing. Even the people of Storybrooke all had IRS records. When the curse had dropped them in this land, it had seamlessly inserted their curse identities into the records systems. For all intents and purposes, if a government agency happened to look at records for someone in Storybrooke, those records would always appear legitimate and in order; a perk of the curse being so intricate and efficient, on the surface anyway. If someone were to ever look closer at Storybrooke from outside, oddities would appear. But Regina was not too concerned. For twenty-eight years, they weren't given any thought, much like any other small, unassuming town. But these strangers did concern her, as did all the changes.

Her intense glower on her step-daughter and her idiot Prince didn't dissipate, as she watched them kiss.

When David had proposed to her a week ago, in front of all, she had been enraged. No matter what she did, it seemed that separating them was impossible. Even her plot to give Belle false memories had backfired on her, for Gold seemed just fine with having Lacey on his arm as he did Belle. Lacey seemed drawn to the darkness in Gold as well, which she had not anticipated. Jefferson seemed a bit more sane too, as it seemed having people in his life kept his demons at bay and Henry continued to pull away. Despite these other interlopers, it all stemmed back to Emma Swan.

If Damon was acquitted, that would be a blow to the two idiots and she could assuredly find new ways to torture the others. A few ideas about that sprang into her mind and she smirked deviously, as she looked back across the street. And she caught sight of something red. Taking out a pair binoculars, she looked through them and spotted Stephanie, several feet away, talking to a woman with red hair. Regina gasped, as she suddenly recognized her.

"The mermaid...what the hell is she doing here?" she growled.

"How the hell did she get here?" Regina wondered, as she knew the mermaid didn't get swept up by the curse, nor did she come over the town line, which meant it was probably by sea and would have required magic of some kind. And she was deep in conversation with Stephanie Kore. Perhaps there was a way to find out the truth about Ms. Kore, after all. Regina smirked and picked up the phone.

"I have a job for you," she said, once the person on the other end answered.

"So...things are good?" Stephanie asked. Ariel smiled.

"They are. This land is strange, but the filing job in the cannery office is fairly simple. And I get to be close to Eric. Thank you again for convincing the manager to give me the job," Ariel replied. Stephanie smiled.

"You're very welcome, Adrianna Brooke," Stephanie replied, using the curse name she had come up with for the redhead. Ariel smiled and saw Snow in the near distance.

"It must be so hard for you...that Snow doesn't know," Ariel mentioned.

"It is, but I'm hoping being friends first will help her accept me. The curse will not last forever and she'll remember. So will Eric," she assured. Ariel nodded.

"I can't wait...especially for Regina to pay for all she's done to everyone," the former mermaid replied.

"Regina has already lost a lot of ground. Anything she does now just delays the inevitable. Emma will break the curse," Stephanie promised, as she checked the time.

"I have to go. Take care," she said.

"You too," Ariel replied, as she started back for the cannery.

As she rounded the corner, someone grabbed her from behind and put a cloth over the redhead's mouth, forcing her to breathe in the chloroform. She collapsed and was dragged away to a van nearby.

Court resumed and the judge was seated again.

"Mr. Gold...you may call your next witness," the judge stated.

"Thank you, Your Honor. The prosecution calls Mary Margaret Blanchard to the stand," he stated, as the raven haired beauty stood up. David squeezed her hand and she approached the bench where the Bailiff swore her in. Mr. Gold approached and rested his weight on his cane.

"Miss Blanchard...we have heard about the events of that night from Mr. Nolan. Is it true that Mr. Tromera came to the Toll Bridge that night?" Gold asked.

"Yes," Mary answered.

"Was Mr. Tromera armed?" Gold asked.

"He had a shiny metal device on his hand. I was later told that they were brass knuckles," Mary stated. Gold held up an evidence bag.

"Are these what Mr. Tromera was wearing on his knuckles that night?" Gold questioned. Mary looked at them and shuddered slightly, as they were still stained red. Red that she knew was David's blood.

"Yes," Mary answered. Let the court reflect that Ms. Blanchard has identified this weapon as one Mr. Tromera was sporting on his knuckles on the night in question," Gold said.

"So recorded," the judge agreed.

"Now, Miss Blanchard, tell the court in your own words about the events of that night," he requested. She took a deep breath and flashed back to that frightening night.

"Mary...run…" he pleaded. But instead, she spied a large stick and picked it up. David's head swam in pain after another punch and Damon backed away. He turned his attention toward Mary Margaret and was beamed across the face with a stick. He growled in pain and held his face, as she scrambled to help David to his feet.

"Mary...you need to run! I'll just slow you down," he groaned.

"David...I am not leaving you behind," she repeated, as they trudged through the muddy forest. It was dark now and rain was coming down in sheets. They could barely see anything and she yelped when David cried out, as Damon hit him from behind.

"No!" she cried, as they went rolling to the ground. David saw black spots in his vision, as Damon buried a fist in his gut, knocking the wind out of him. But he fought the urge to pass out, as the monster stalked toward Mary and shoved her against a tree. She sobbed, as he put his large hand around her slender neck and forced her to look at him.

"So fair...even soaking wet in this rain. I can't wait to finally have you," he hissed, as he used his free hand to fumble with the rope in his bag. Mary growled and kneed him between his legs. He groaned and she tried to push him away, but he pinned her with his weight.

"You'll learn you place, Mary. I'm going to teach you," he growled.

"Did you enjoy my handiwork at your lovely little garden today?" he questioned.

"It was you," she uttered. He smirked.

"Yes...but that was your blood. I swiped a bag of it from the hospital. And you know when I was smattering those stupid little flowers you love with it, I had this insatiable urge to taste your blood. So I did...and I found it to be the sweetest nectar I've ever tasted. It left me wanting more," he whispered in her ear and her skin crawled at the feeling of his hot breath on her neck.

"You're sick..." she spat. He chuckled at that.

"Yes...I suppose I am," he replied.

Mary was practically shaking when she finished recalling the memory.

"So...he admitted to vandalizing your flowers earlier that day, using a bag of your own donated blood, which he stole?" Gold questioned.

"Yes," she answered.

"Objection...this is hearsay, Your Honor," Mitchell interjected.

"No, Your Honor...Sheriff Swan recovered a security tape of Mr. Tromera visiting the hospital wing where the donated blood is kept," Gold argued.

"Which is circumstantial at best. I have viewed this tape and Mr. Tromera did visit that room, but there was no indication he took anything," Mitchell protested.

"Your Honor, a lab test done later on the flowers confirmed that it was Miss Blanchard's blood and the discarded bag was found at the scene," Gold countered.

"Which does not definitively prove that my client did it," Mitchell objected.

"He is correct, Mr. Gold," the judge agreed.

"Your Honor, he admitted it," Gold stated.

"So says Miss Blanchard. It's hearsay," Mitchell countered.

"Mr. Herman is correct. The jury will disregard this," the judge ordered. But the jury had still heard the disturbing account and Gold hoped it stuck with them.

"Miss Blanchard...please tell us what happened once you and David reached the cabin," Gold requested. Mary nodded and continued recalling the events that night.

For Mary, she didn't remember a time seeing him like this before and this man terrified her to her core in a way she was sure nothing ever would. She didn't have to wonder about the things he wanted to do. She was extremely clear on everything he had planned for them. She feared for them both; for the horror that awaited her at his hands, but she feared for her beloved more. This monster had every intention of murdering the man she loved and she was beside herself with so many emotions that it nearly made her faint. But she kept her feet rooted to the ground and her grip on David, for she feared him disappearing if she let go even just a little.

Her heart hammered in her chest, as the malicious man limped inside and her head hurt in a way that couldn't just be a headache. It was more like someone was screaming at her inside her subconscious to do something, to protect her love; to fight for him. How she was supposed to do that against this animal of a man, she did not know, but she found her eyes searching for anything that could be a weapon.

David gripped the poker and raised it before them.

"Do yourself a favor and step aside and maybe you'll live to see another day," Damon threatened.

"Like hell I will. If you think I'll let you hurt Mary, then you have another thing coming," David threatened back.

"Mary...unless you'd like to have his blood on your hands, then you should save yourself that pain and come with me," Damon said.

"She's not going anywhere with you," David growled. He smirked and made a show of his considerable strength by breaking a wooden chair over his knee so he could use one of the legs as a weapon. Mary yelped when he did, never imagining someone could have such strength. It was almost inhuman. As David circled the monster before them, Mary noticed a sculpture on the mantel. It was a wooden likeness of a spinning wheel and she picked it up, ready to spring in at the right moment to use it.

David swiped the poker at the other man, but he dodged and made his own strike, narrowly missing David's head. The monster of a man brought the wooden stake down on him again and David blocked in a high arc with his weapon. But Damon kneed him in the stomach and hit him on the back of the neck. Mary cried out, as he went down and their tormentor hovered over him with a devious smile.

"You should turn away, Mary. This is going to get messy," he hissed, but felt excruciating pain, as she hit him in the head with a blunt object. He held his head and fell to his knees. How it didn't drop him completely, Mary didn't know.

"That was a very big mistake, Mary," he growled, but they didn't waste any time and she helped David up, as they started toward the door. But Damon reached out and grabbed her leg, tripping her. David shoved him away and tried to go to her, but Damon hammered his fist into David's gut, tossing him away again. Mary watched the monster fearfully, as he lit the chair leg on fire and then tossed it onto the rug nearby, quickly igniting it.

"What are you doing?!" Mary cried.

"Making sure lover boy can't escape this time," he growled, as he grabbed her arm. She dug her heels and tried to stall him.

"That's it...you've left him no choice. I didn't want to do this, Mary, but you will be taught your place," he screamed at her, before angrily backhanding her. She fell to the floor in a painful daze and David saw red like he never had before.

"You must have been terrified," Gold stated.

"I was...I thought he was going to kill David," Mary answered.

"But you were also scared for yourself. What did you fear from him, Miss Blanchard?" Gold questioned. She swallowed thickly and Damon's eyes were shooting through her.

"He said he was going to take me back to his club against my will," Mary revealed.

"And did he tell you what he was going to do to you?" Gold asked. She took a sharp breath.

"He said he couldn't wait to have me and that I would be taught my place," she stated.

"Have you," Gold repeated.

"I know this is difficult, Miss Blanchard, but what do you think he meant by that?" Gold asked. Mary closed her eyes and a tear slipped down her cheek. Mr. Gold graciously offered her a tissue.

"I think he meant to...rape me," she uttered in a trembling voice, causing rumblings through the court room

"Objection!" Mitchell protested and the judge slammed the gavel down.

"Order," he demanded.

"Your Honor, the witness is speculating!" Mitchell cried.

"The witness is recounting the events and how she felt," Gold argued.

"Sustained. I have to agree with Mr. Herman. The jury will disregard Miss Blanchard's speculative statement," the judge ordered.

"The court may negate your speculation, but it does not change the things you felt that night and how that fear was caused by Mr. Tromera, is that right, Miss Blanchard?" Gold asked.

"Objection!" Mitchell exclaimed.

"Withdrawn...no further questions," Gold replied, as he took his seat.

"Your witness, Mr. Herman," the judge stated, as Mr. Herman approached the witness stand.

"Miss Blanchard...how long have you volunteered at the hospital?" he asked. Her brow furrowed in confusion.

"For many years...I guess I'm not exactly sure how many," she replied.

"Many...many years, ladies and gentlemen," he stated.

"Objection...I fail to see what relevance any of his has, Your Honor," Gold protested.

"Sustained. Mr. Herman...where are you going with this?" the judge questioned.

"Oh, I have a point, Your Honor," he assured.

"Then make it," the judge said shortly.

"You happily participated in the volunteer program, a program which Mr. Tromera funds, yet how many times did you reject him?" Mitchell asked.

"Objection...Miss Blanchard's love life has no bearing on this case," Gold protested.

"Overruled, but tread lightly, Mr. Herman," the judge warned.

"Mr. Tromera asked you out numerous times, but you rejected him each time, didn't you?" Mitchell asked.

"Yes...I wasn't interested in him and did not appreciate his continued advances," Mary replied.

"Or perhaps you enjoyed stringing the poor man along," Mitchell countered.

"Objection!" Gold hissed.

"Withdrawn," Mitchell said quickly.

"How many times did Mr. Nolan ask you out before you agreed to a date?" Mitchell questioned.

"I said yes the first time," Mary replied confidently.

"Then perhaps you can understand how Mr. Tromera might have felt. After all, a person can only take so much cruel rejection," Mitchell hissed.

"Objection! The witness is not on trial, nor is she responsible for Mr. Tromera's hurt feelings," Gold growled.

"Sustained. You are out of line, Mr. Herman," the judge admonished.

"I apologize, your Honor," Mitchell stated, as he picked up an evidence bag.

"Do you recognize this object?" he asked.

"It's a stick," Mary answered.

"Yes, this is the stick you used to bludgeon Mr. Tromera on the night in question...isn't it?" Mitchell asked.

"He was attacking David!" Mary exclaimed.

"Your Honor, please advise the witness to answer with a yes or no," Mitchell said.

"He's correct, Miss Blanchard. Please provide a yes or no answer," the judge advised.

"Yes," Mary answered through clenched teeth.

"You claim that it was self defense, but perhaps you saw an opportunity to rid yourself of my client for good. After all, you yourself said you were tired of his constant advances," Mitchell stated.

"Objection!" Gold protested.

"Withdrawn...no further questions," Mitchell replied, as he returned to his seat.

"If there are no more witnesses, then we will hear closing arguments," the judge stated. Gold rose from his seat and approached the jury.

"You have heard clear testimony today about the events that took place on that stormy November night. Mr. Tromera sought out David Nolan and Mary Margaret Blanchard. His plan required a tranquilizer dart to eliminate the obstacle of their dog, which most certainly suggests per-meditation on his part. He attacked them, chased them, and intended to harm them. They fought him in self defense for their lives, as any person would and there is little doubt that Mr. Tromera intended to kill Mr. Nolan and force himself on Miss Blanchard. He has stalked her for years, proving without a shadow of a doubt that he is a predator and should be locked up for what he did. As conscious citizens, who care about your fellow townspeople, I know you'll make the right decision," Gold stated, as he took his seat and Mitchell approached.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, the question is not did Mr. Tromera act rashly and inappropriately on the night in question...because he did," Mitchell began.

"But the question is...does he deserve to go to prison for it? And the answer is unequivocally no. Years of rejection has taken a heavy toll on my client. And the events of that night were escalated by Mr. Nolan's hot temper and Miss Blanchard's continued rebuking. They want him to go to prison. But my client needs counseling instead. So don't deny him that, because he is a generous and valued member of this community. Make the right decision and acquit. Sentence him to counseling and community service if you must. But not prison. Thank you," Mitchell stated.

"At this time, the jury will be sequestered until which time they reach a verdict. Until then, we are adjourned the judge ordered, as he slammed the gavel down.

David squeezed Mary's hand. All they could do now was hope...

#Snowing #season 1 au #Snowing fanfiction #SnowxCharming #feat Mr. Gold

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littlesnowarrow · 7 years

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Security fail, pt1

So... I did a thing. Yesterday (for me, as I’m writing this) was @saibrarutherford‘s birthday, and because she’s the sweetest lady around, I wanted to give her something for her special day.

It was supposed to be a one-shot, but it has turned out too long (and I still haven’t finished it after working on it for a full month), so I’ll be dividing it in three parts. Because yeah.

Security fail part 1

Next Part

Summary: Saibra Trevelyan returns home from an exhausting mission in Orlais, as usual, when she finds out that some things have been happening in her dear stronghold. But, who is responsible for them?

Words: 2.6k

Warnings: None.

AO3 Link

Grammar and vocabulary corrections are always welcome.

Saibra was worn out. Like every time she returned from Orlais; those people truly only knew how to complain about each other and plot in that Game everyone seemed to enjoy playing save her. And she had just been a couple of days out. But she couldn’t go to her quarters yet. The required meeting at the War Room with her advisors was about to begin, and she really wished it would end soon so she could slip under her blankets and sleep at least for a whole day.

And… there was something she wanted to check by herself. Cullen, Josephine and her were waiting for the rest to arrive, using the time to check how many rifts were left in the map. Or at least she tried, because the Antivan was was so distressed it was impossible not to wonder what had gotten into her. She had been shifting from one foot to the other, fidgeting even, and she would have paced if she had been accompanied by people less observant. Suddenly, something seemed to change her mind, as she approached Saibra and leaned very close to her ear, very careful her words wouldn’t reach the Commander.

“Inquisitor…” She gaped a couple of times, but she couldn’t find the words with which she so naturally got on. Saibra would have worried hadn’t been for the intense red colour that darkened even more her skin. “You should know that your Spymaster is an incorrigible prankster.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Leliana said behind them. Both women turned to her startled since they hadn’t heard her enter. Josie’s blush became more intense when she saw the Nightingale’s angelic smile.

“No?” the Ambassador was starting to lose her temper. “My… my things! In the courtyard!”

Saibra stifled a snort. So it was true. Everyone in Skyhold had seen the new flag in the courtyard had been replaced by someone’s frilly undergarments, who no doubt belonged to Lady Montilyet. They had only hung there, graciously waving with the cool mountain breeze, until lunchtime, when the Ambassador had taken a break from her usual pile of paperwork in her office. The deed itself and her loud shriek had been the object of the rumors that were heard through the valley in the last few days, something her Commander had told her as soon as Saibra had gotten down from Solace.

“The ruffles were very festive.” Her grin widened, and her lips showed the tip of her fangs, like a predator that was having fun with her prey.

“Leliana!” she protested.

“What’s the matter?” asked Cassandra in her thick Nevarran accent.

“Our Lady Ambassador was victim of a serious attack against her intimacy at the beginning of the week, soon after your departure to Orlais,” Cullen answered. “And Leliana seems to be the one at fault.”

“Certainly I’m not.” Leliana huffed and crossed her arms before her chest. “If you must blame someone, it should be Sera. I’ve told her many times not to involve my agents in her businesses.”

And then, the Nightingale frowned. Everyone in the room exchanged a concerned look between them; it wasn’t usual for the redhead to reveal her train of thought that openly. Her unyielding mask began to crack bit by bit as she seemed to realise something the others didn’t.

“Sera could have arranged the banner incident, but she left with you, so it’s impossible she’s been able to organise the rest.” Her voice had become a low and dangerous growl that made their hair stand on end.

“Which ‘rest’?” Cassandra was the only one with enough courage to try to interact with her. Josie gasped at Saibra’s side, and her face turned pale when only five minutes ago had been of the same colour of the brightest pepper in the kitchen. Leliana answered with a nod.

“I’m afraid we have a joker in the hold, Inquisitor,” she announced.

“Meaning?”

“There have been some incidents since your leaving, now that Leliana mentions it.” This time it was Cullen speaking. “We all thought it had been Sera’s doing but-”

Little by little, the three advisors tried to summarise what had been going on during these days, taking Josie’s undergarments as the starting point. A lot had happened: from changing the tea sugar for salt lumps or emptying wine bottles -the cheap ones though- for coloured water to having placed food leftovers inside of each mattress that existed in the entire fortress. Or dusting stinging powder inside socks, disassembling chairs and benches so they would break by just sitting on them… Even putting bells on Baron Plucky.

That had personally infuriated the Spymaster, who had sworn she would take care of the rogue elf’s punishment. Not even Bull, whom they had hidden the patch and painted an eye on his scar, had any idea of who the culprit could be, nor the reasons that were driving them to commit those… pranks.

And it was true. Sera liked to play, but she had never dared with such scale. As they kept telling the facts, a feeling of restlessness began to fill Saibra from head to toe. Whoever was doing all that clearly didn’t have to intention to harm them, but it could be an strategy to distract them while some tragedy happened somewhere? Corypheus couldn’t be that smart, could he?

“They seem to have been merciless with everyone, without a clear target,” finished Josephine.

“But whoever they are, they must have spent a lot of time among us to get to know our weaknesses,” Cullen pointed out.

Not everyone. Although the whole of Skyhold had been flown off the handle, Saibra and her family had gotten out of it. It could be said that Vastra had had her share; a couple of nights ago, her sister found her children eating a box full of chocolates right before bedtime. The dawn had come and the little girls still hadn’t gone to bed, no matter how many tricks Vastra used with them. When she accepted it was impossible to calm them down, she ordered Jim to take care of them while she went to take a long and well-deserved nap. And nothing had happened to Cullen as well, at least not yet.

“I will personally see this matter dealt with if you allow me, Inquisitor.” Leliana offered.

Saibra was too tired, especially after that long series of unfortunate events, so she simply nodded in agreement and concluded the council.

***

Saibra dragged her feet through the hallways of her fortress, nodding or slightly bowing her head to answer the greetings of the people she run into. She needed a warm mug of tea and a calming bath with some special salts Josie had received. The pouch gave off a pleasant smell of camomile, lavender and orange, and with only a small sniff she was feeling a bit more revitalised.

The walk from the War Room to her bedroom had never felt so long, and on her way she couldn’t help but think about the recent events. The prankster had been clever to put Sera on the spot from the beginning, and lucky that everyone thought she was guilty when she probably didn’t even hang Josie’s famous underthings in the courtyard. And yet the prankster had raised the spirits of her people; she heard them tell stories of what had happened to one’s partner or the kitchen help. Her favourite so far was the explosion in Dagna’s lab that had covered the cave with a permanent glitter impossible to wash away.

But Saibra didn’t felt observed nor threatened; maybe those days in Orlais had immunised her against dirty tricks and back-stabbing for some time. Surely the joker was already gone and far from there, though never outside Leliana’s reach. She decided to pray for their souls and hope Leliana’s punishment were to be somewhat merciful.

She left the room half closed for when Cullen returned from his office, and climbed each step as she couldn’t climbed the next one. When she finally reached the top, she was disappointed to see the bathtub wasn’t ready. The hearth wasn’t even lit to heat the water. Odd. Despite her arrivals always caused a big fuss, the staff made sure her relaxing ritual was prepared for when she dropped the Inquisitor’s armour on her bed. Maybe there had been a mishap. Maybe the prankster had striked in the servants quarters today…! But if that would have occurred, they would have been informed during the council. So, she shrugged and began undressing to a more comfortable outfit.

After a brief moment, someone knocked downstairs. Neither Cullen, Vastra or her nieces ever asked for permission to come in, so it was probably Dorian. She allowed him to come up the stairs while she casted a tiny fireball to lit the hearth. Saibra giggled under her breath; she knew how much her Commander hated it when she used her magic unnecessarily, but Maker she needed that bath.

A head poked out from the stair’s railing, at first cautiously and then more freely. It was an elf, Dalish judging by the tattoo that covered her face, and her dark brown hair tied in a high ponytail that showed a pair of moving ears. Her eyes were of a deep bright green, wrinkled at the corners because of the mirthful smile she was offering to her.

“I’m terribly sorry, your Worship. I was required somewhere else, so I couldn’t prepare the bathtub on time.”

“It’s okay. If you’re still busy I can do it myself.”

“Please no! I’d never let the Inquisitor carry these heavy buckets by herself.” The elf hurried and gently pushed her away from the heated water. Saibra examined her from top to bottom, curious if she was talking seriously; she was so short and thin she would break if she lifted the buckets. But contrary to her expectations, the elf did her job without a single sign of pain or trouble.

When the bath was ready, Saibra shrugged off her silken robe and tested the temperature with the tip of her toes before finally dropping in. The water was exquisite, warm with a subtle colder current that gave her goosebumps all over her legs. She could still hear the elf moving around and doing this and that, never fully pausing for longer than a couple of seconds. She unpacked her travel bag, shook her cloak to dust the dirt of the road and filled a brazier to warm her bed. Somehow everything reminded her of when she was a child, and her mama would prepare them to go to bed after a long day playing in the Trevelyan manor courtyard.

She was almost dozing off when the elf stopped behind her and poured Josie’s bath salts. The crystals tickled her skin before adapting to the water’s temperature, causing them to dissolve into that marvelous smell of citrus. A pair of hands unexpectedly run along her shoulders in a slow massage. Her fingers were cold, and knew exactly how much pressure she had to put to undo the contractures in her shoulders. Saibra began humming out of pleasure, without minding if that stranger could see her in an almost vulnerable state.

“Is it comforting, your Worship? I might not have healing magic, but they say my hands can do wonders.” she whispered. Saibra sighed in response. “Is it alright if I move to the head?”

“Please…” she finished with a soft groan as soon as the elf began rubbing along her scalp with a chuckle. There was a moment in which she touched certain point, and the mage unintentionally poured some of her own magic into the water.

“Wow! So it’s true you’re a mage, huh?” She didn’t know? Saibra would have sworn that her class was the order of the day. “Must’ve felt strange living outside the Circle for this long.”

“It certainly has sometimes. But even though the Ostwick circle was a pacific one, the freedom is still enjoyable.” She felt the elf nod in agreement. “And you? When did you leave your clan?”

Somehow, the cheerfulness she so easily gave off darkened just an instant before she recovered. Her fingers resumed massaging her head as if that question hadn’t reopened an old wound in her heart. Be as it may, her voice didn’t show any of that uneasiness.

“A very long time ago. I ignore where they might be now, with the hallas taking them around Thedas. I wonder if they’ve planted a tree in my memory or something of the sorts.”

She knew, after the time she had spent in the Graves, that the Dalish honoured their dead planting a tree as a natural gravestone. It saddened her when she realised that the elf had accepted that her people had given her up for dead, either because she left back then or because she had joined the humans at present day. Although if Saibra asked her, she would probably be intruding too much, and she didn’t want to seem a nosy boss that only seeked to satisfy her curiosity.

It ended too soon, unfortunately. The elf indicated her with a couple of light taps that she should come out of the water before she would catch a cold, so Saibra got up and let herself be embraced by the soft towel she wrapped her with. “I don’t know how to thank you.”

“I should be thanking you for taking me in! Life hasn’t been easy since the Blight-” she stopped abruptly, as she had made a terrible mistake by mentioning that.

“The Blight? Are you from Ferelden?” she leaned forward when the servant used a second towel for her head.

“I lived there, yes. But anyway,” she changed the subject, “A lone, wandering Dalish is always suspicious, it doesn’t matter what difficulty we’re going through.”

She seemed so lonely and tired of that prejudice that her words sounded older than what she really was. Saibra couldn’t help but pity her, as much as it wasn’t very polite to do. There was a small silence between them, staring at each other and drinking from their eyes stories they weren’t told. Saibra felt the unstoppable urge to hug her, to help her sooth away those unspoken problems.

One of her ears lifted at the sudden sound of a closing door. The spell that had bonded them broke as the elf helped her step down from the bathtub, her endless energy bursting again, and bowed as a farewell after handing her her nightgown. Saibra still wanted to embrace her, but before she could consider if that went beyond her limits as leader of the Inquisition, the elf was already gone.

But Saibra didn’t hear the snort the cheerful elf barely managed to suppress while she headed to the stairs, or the casual “Hey Cullen” she spoke to the Commander.

When Saibra emerged from behind the screen, Cullen was still looking at the stairwell with a very confused look twirled in his scarred lip. “Is something wrong, beloved?” she said while hugging him from behind. Cullen shook his head as if he wanted to get a horrible idea out of his mind and twisted in her arms ready to land a soft kiss on her forehead. But instead, he observed her bewildered, eyes open with concern and distant laugh. Now it was her turn to be confused. “What?”

“Sweetling, you should check yourself in the mirror.”

She stepped back almost frightened, and without ever letting go of his hand, Saibra approached the full-length mirror hanging next to her dresser. She checked out her body expecting to find anything unusual, but there was nothing that could justify the warning of her lover…

A strand of hair swung before her eyes. She would have sworn that lock couldn’t belong to her, that it was the tip of the towel that was still drying her scalp. And at the same time it had the same texture as one of her curls, only that the colour… The colour…

“AAAAAAH!”

#saibrarutherford #happy birthday mo caraid!#<3 #aah I want to hug you #saibra trevelyan #cullen rutherford #dragon age #dragon age inquisition #dragon age fanfic

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smartgirlsaremean · 7 years

Text

The Question Falls - Chapter 2

Fandom: OUAT (inspired by Sex and the City)

Pairing: Rumbelle

Rating: T

Summary: Divorce attorney Gold knows better than to fall in love with a client. Really he does.

AO3

“When we were going to couples therapy Gaston told me I was a princess who deserved everything I wanted. Do you think that’ll sway things in my favor?”

“It’s a case of hearsay, unfortunately, dearie.” Gold drummed his fingers on his desk. “I’ve discovered a few more assets Mrs. Lefleur has been hiding. She really is determined to give you nothing, y’know.”

“I don’t want anything but the apartment,” Belle said sternly. “She could offer me millions and I wouldn’t accept it.”

She was the most stubborn woman he’d ever met. And the brightest. The sweetest. The most beautiful. He fought back a groan and ran a hand over his face before turning his attention back to his phone. “Why is his mother handling his divorce anyway?” he asked.

There was a long pause. “Divorces are messy and unpleasant. Gaston doesn’t do messy. He likes things to be neat and tidy. Sterile, even.”

Except, apparently, when she went down on him in movie theaters. God, Gold wished she hadn’t told him that.

“Except when messy suited him, of course.”

Shit, she’d read his mind.

He’d now spent enough time in his office and on the phone with Belle to know that she was the exact opposite of neat, tidy, and sterile. She was clumsy and impulsive, passionate and bold. His office safe now held a chipped teacup she’d broken during their second meeting, when she’d gestured a little too violently and sent the cup crashing to the floor. She’d been positively distraught, but he’d told her it was just a cup and swept the pieces up onto his desk to be fixed later. (He’d never repaired the cup.) Halfway through their third meeting the conversation had somehow derailed into a discussion of what was considered classic literature and the inherent prejudices present in the academic world that determined which books were worth reading. He honestly couldn’t remember how the topic had come up, but she’d been so passionate in her defense of authors he’d never heard of that he hadn’t cared to redirect her. He enjoyed watching her eyes flash and her chin jerk up while she challenged him.

He enjoyed talking to her just a little too much.

The question of what she and Gaston had ever seen in each other had been easily answered: opposites always attract, though the attraction might not be sustainable. Gold could easily imagine that stuffy, stolid Gaston would be intrigued by her fire while she could be drawn to his steadiness. In the end, though, the differences that stretched between them like a rubber band had been too extreme, and the rubber, rather than pulling them together, had snapped and flown away.

More and more he felt sorry for Gaston, even as he thought him an idiot. Part of him believed that if he’d been in Gaston’s place, with this woman in his arms and in his bed, insisting that she wanted no one but him, he would never let her go. Another part - perhaps not larger, but more insistent certainly - reminded him that such a circumstance would never occur naturally and therefore it would only be wise to be skeptical.

It must be a special kind of hell, to have loved and lost Belle because he couldn’t believe that she was truly his, to know that the only thing standing between them and wedded bliss was his own insecurities and fears.

The second meeting with Mrs. Lefleur was turning out to be almost unbearably entertaining. Belle sat in her chair with her arms folded and her gorgeous legs crossed, her face a picture of serene amusement as Mrs. Lefleur berated her for everything she could think of. Belle’s wardrobe, makeup, career choices, diet, and friends were all given their turn for Mrs. Lefleur’s vitriol. Whenever she appeared to run out of steam, Belle would smile. She would uncross her legs or arms (or both), lean forward, and deliver a riposte that would momentarily stun Mrs. Lefleur speechless. After a few seconds, though, the older woman would gather her wits and once more enter the fray.

Gold was vaguely aware that Spencer was trying to catch his eye and bring this completely unproductive meeting to an end, but he was having the time of his life and he didn’t care if he never left this room.

“Alright, ladies,” Spencer said finally, standing and leaning on the table. “I think we’d best leave it there for the day. As Mrs. Gaston seems unwilling to consider Mrs. Lefleur’s completely reasonable proposal,” and he gallantly ignored Belle’s indelicate snort, “we will continue this conversation at a later date.”

“I want this settled today, ” Mrs. Lefleur insisted.

“So do I,” Belle said pleasantly. “Are we agreed then? I get the apartment and you keep everything else?”

“You will never have that apartment,” Mrs. Lefleur snapped. “You are a heartless little guttersnipe and Gaston is well rid of you. You never deserved him, and you are quite welcome to go back to that whorish life you led before you ensnared my son.”

Belle’s face went pale. “What are you talking about?”

“You think I haven’t done my homework? You think I don’t know that you had dozens of lovers before taking up with my sweet, innocent boy?”

“My sexual history,” Belle clipped, her lips white, “is none of your business.”

“It is when it endangers my family.”

“Endangers...I never put anyone in danger!” Belle shot to her feet, her hands clenched into fists.

“How can we be sure of that?”

Belle was breathing very hard and Gold could tell she was close to losing her tenuous grip on her control. “That’s enough, Mrs. Lefleur,” he said coldly, standing and stepping just a little in front of his client. “Your feelings aside, my client’s personal life prior to her marriage has absolutely no bearing on the proceedings of this divorce.” He glared at Spencer, who was gaping at his own client in shock. “I recommend we end this meeting immediately.”

“Ah. Right. My secretary will call yours, Gold,” Spencer said hurriedly. He and Mrs. Lefleur were almost out the door when Belle caught her breath.

“If you think for one second,” she said in a very calm, quiet, deadly voice, “that Gaston’s numbers weren’t well into the thirties by the time he met me, you need a serious dose of reality. And even if he’d been pure as the snow, I am not now and will never be ashamed of living my life as I see fit, Beryl. It’s not my fault you can’t say the same.”

Without waiting for an answer, she turned and stormed out the other door, slamming it behind her. Mrs. Lefleur sniffed and hurried ahead of her lawyer. Gold reached out and caught Spencer’s arm. “Make no mistake, Albert,” he growled. “If your client pulls a stunt like that again, I will not hesitate to have her escorted bodily out of the building, old money or no.”

Spencer looked more subdued and less arrogant than Gold had ever seen him. “I’ll have a word with her. It won’t happen again.”

When Gold opened the door to his office, he was horrified to realize that Belle was doubled over in one of the chairs, crying. Not quiet little sniffles, either, but great gulping sobs that sounded as if they would choke her. He closed the door behind him very quietly, but she still heard the click of the latch and looked up.

“Sorry,” she gasped, her hands swiping ineffectively at her wet cheeks. “I just...I couldn’t…”

“Don’t apologize.” He crossed the room and, for lack of any other ideas, sat on the table in front of her and handed her the handkerchief he always carried in his pocket.

She took it and stared at it for a minute, her face inscrutable, and when she looked up gave him a watery little smile. “People still carry these?”

“I do. I’m a person like everyone else, aren’t I?” he grumbled.

“I wonder sometimes.” She wiped at her cheeks.

And just what the hell that was supposed to mean he had no idea.

“I try not to let her get to me,” Belle said after a moment, “but sometimes it’s just too much.”

“She has no right to speak to you the way she does. I have Spencer’s word she’ll behave at the next meeting.”

“Maybe there shouldn’t be one,” Belle sighed, and his heart clenched. “Maybe this...maybe this is as far as I go.”

She couldn’t give up. He was so close to having what he wanted from Gaston, and if she quit now, she would walk out that door and get ready to leave her apartment. Maybe even the city. The state? She obviously wasn’t from around here. What if she left the country altogether?

He’d never see her again.

He felt something rise in his chest that felt an awful lot like panic, and he shoved it down.

“The next meeting will be better, I promise,” he said, trying not to sound desperate. “I’ve...I’ve been in contact with Gaston. I’ve been keeping him updated on the proceedings - I had a feeling he was only hearing a fraction of the story from his mother - when he hears about this...well, I’m sure he’ll have something to say.”

She looked up at him. “You’ve contacted Gaston?”

“Yes.”

“And you think he’ll say something that will be in our favor?”

“I do.”

“Why?”

“I…” He didn’t really have an answer. He didn’t know the boy at all, but… “You said he loved you.”

“He did. Does.”

“Well, I...I can’t imagine that anyone who loved you would not want to give you everything in the world you desired.”

Her eyes widening, Belle stared at him and he felt his face growing hot. The hand that had been clutching the handkerchief reached out to touch his hand and she leaned a little closer to him, her eyes flickering over his face.

“Gold, Millie’s on the phone again and she’s breathing fire...oh. Uh, excuse me.” His back was to the door, but Gold could hear the smug little smile in Nolan’s voice. “I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“Generally, Nolan, when one knocks, one avoids such an unfortunate circumstance,” he snapped, standing and turning to glare at his partner.

“I should be going anyway,” Belle said softly. She held his handkerchief out to him.

“Keep it,” he said, waving it away.

“I’ll launder it and get it back you,” she said after folding it neatly and placing it in her purse.

He shrugged. “I have plenty. Won’t miss it.”

Belle smiled and, after what appeared to be a short internal struggle, stood up and pressed a kiss on his cheek. “Thanks, Roderick.”

She’d stolen all of his thoughts right out of his brain. He watched dumbly as she walked out the door, snapping back to full coherence only when Nolan turned to him with a grin that threatened to split his face in two.

“Don’t,” Gold barked, holding up a hand.

“The hot divorcee just kissed you and you think you’re getting out of talking about this? No way.”

Gold ground his teeth. “She is not ‘the hot divorcee.’”

Leaning against the door, David let out a low whistle. “Uh-oh.” His smile had dimmed.

“What?”

“I know that voice. I’ve heard it before. That’s the ‘I’m falling for the client’ voice.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

“You’re touching your face.”

Gold’s hand jerked away from his cheek. Nolan regarded him with sympathy, and Gold sat at his desk, pointedly ignoring him in hopes that he would leave. He winced when the younger man’s footsteps advanced into the room.

“It’s never a good idea. You know that better than most.”

With a sigh Gold pinched the bridge of his nose. He did know.

“I’m not saying Mrs. Lefleur is gonna call the whole thing off and go back to him like Co - like she did. But this is one of the worst times of her life and you’re associated with that.”

Damn it, David had a point. Gold lowered his hands and met his partner’s eyes. David’s lips twitched up in a sad smile.

“Want me to take over from here? You can go away for a few weeks, we’ll make up a family emergency. How long has it been since you visited Neal, anyway?”

“No. Thank you,” he added sincerely, “but no. I can handle this. One more meeting, or two...three, tops, and it’ll all be over.”

“If you’re sure.”

“I am.”

David turned to leave but stopped to grin over his shoulder. “She is a beauty, isn’t she?”

“Get out.”

“Good afternoon.” Gold felt more cheerful today than he had in weeks. There was even a bit of a spring in his uneven gait and he bit back a grin as he hooked his cane over the back of his chair. Mrs. Lefleur and Spencer eyed him warily and Miss French looked bemused.

“It’s my hope,” Spencer said carefully, “that this issue will be settled once and for all today.”

“Oh, I’m sure it will be,” Gold agreed. Beside him, Belle looked at him curiously.

“Excellent,” Mrs. Lefleur sniped. “If I never set eyes on that little harpy again it will be too soon.”

Belle rolled her eyes, but Gold glared at Spencer, who paled and leaned over to whisper in his client’s ear. The older woman pursed her lips but nodded once, and Spencer sat back.

“Our final offer,” Spencer said, “is the collection of mint-condition coins guaranteed to Mrs. Gaston by the prenuptial agreement. She may keep or dispose of them as she wishes.”

“I don’t want the stupid coins,” Belle huffed. “Gaston promised me the apartment, and that’s what I want.”

“I am more than prepared to go to court,” Mrs. Lefleur snapped, “and if you think for one moment that the judge won’t find in favor of me you are…”

Gold’s phone rang from his pocket and interrupted her before she could finish her sentence and give him the pleasure of tossing her out of the building.

“Really, Gold, this is ridiculous,” Spencer protested as Gold pulled out his phone.

“I was expecting this call,” he said. A few swipes of his finger and Gaston Lefleur appeared on the screen. Belle smiled sadly and Mrs. Lefleur frowned. “Ah, Mr. Lefleur, I hoped we’d be hearing from you today.”

“Mr. Gold,” the younger man said solemnly. “Is everyone there?”

“Yes, and we’re all itching to hear what you think of this affair.”

“Gaston, darling, what are you doing?” Mrs. Lefleur demanded. “I told you I could take care of everything, you needn’t worry about a thing.”

“I guess we don’t agree on what ‘taking care of Belle’ means,” Gaston said sternly. “Mother, Belle was a wonderful wife. She did nothing wrong and she deserves everything she wants. Our divorce was no one’s fault - we simply weren’t meant to be together.”

“But she…”

“Seriously, Mother. Stop.”

Mrs. Lefleur’s mouth closed with a snap and Gaston looked away from her, meeting Belle’s eyes.

“Hey, there, Bluebell,” he said sadly. “Alright?”

“Yes, I’m fine.” She smiled though her eyes looked a little teary. “Thank you.”

“Anything for you, babe. Talk to you later.”

Gaston signed off, and silence reigned in the conference room. Spencer was the first to break it.

“The apartment. Mrs. Gaston relinquishes any claim to any other part of the Lefleur estate or Mr. Lefleur’s personal fortune.”

“Done,” Gold said. Belle nodded. “I’ll have the papers drawn up so that Mrs. Lefleur can transfer ownership.”

Nothing more was said by anyone, although Belle kept glancing at Beryl nervously. Once or twice she seemed on the verge of speaking, but the older woman left the room without even looking at her soon-to-be-ex daughter-in-law. Belle’s shoulders drooped a little when the others were gone.

“Congratulations, dearie,” Gold said, attempting to sound careless. “You got what you wanted.”

“What I wanted,” Belle sighed, leaning back in her chair and closing her eyes. “What I wanted was love and family and companionship. What I wanted was forever. What I got was an apartment.”

“It’s a bit late to change your mind.” His voice was a bit sharper than he’d intended, but dammit, he’d had this conversation before and he’d thought she was different.

“I’m not changing my mind. I wouldn’t even if I could. I love Gaston, but not the way I should...not the way I want to.”

“And what way is that?” He really shouldn’t be asking her this. It didn’t matter .

“He’s a good man, but he’s so... superficial. Love is...love is layered. It’s a mystery to be uncovered. And with Gaston...well, there’s no mystery. I never find myself wondering what he’s thinking or what he dreams of. He never surprises or challenges me. Love should be a meeting of the minds as well as of the hearts, don’t you think?”

He started. “I...I never really thought about it,” he lied.

“Weren’t you married once?”

Blinking, he turned to stare at her and noticed that her cheeks were turning an interesting shade of pink.

“After our first meeting I Googled you. David said you were the best and I just wanted some background. You were, weren’t you?”

“Yes. It didn’t end well.” Gold sighed. “Why does that matter?”

“There must have been a reason you separated. I’m not prying,” she said hastily, “I don’t want to know why. But you understand what I mean, don’t you?”

“Yes. I understand.” He met her eyes and she stared back, the color on her cheeks deepening.

Her phone rang, jolting them both out of whatever strange mood they’d created. She dropped it once before finally rising and, with an apologetic smile, walking out the door, talking to whomever had interrupted them. Gold took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, forcefully, wishing his heart would stop pounding.

All that was left was to have the papers drawn up and signed. It was almost over. He could do this.

#rumbelle #rumbelle fic #not 100% fluff #seriously smitten Gold #that's good right?#also known as the story that will probably pop my smut cherry

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coolveraverto · 5 years

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Fur, Feathers, and Fins (Chap 2)

HPFT

Chapter 2: “Have you never seen a goldfish?” I ask him.“They’re made of gold??” James asks seriously.

When I decided to work for Dad’s pet shop, I was relieved that it was in Diagon Alley and not Hogsmeade because in Hogsmeade, the weekends were full of teenagers poking their business in the shop, breaking this and that, teenage girls gossiping and whispering about you, etc etc. . . But what I never even thought of was the absolute horror of this: Back. To. School. Shopping.

Or, at least when it comes to getting a pet for Hogwarts it’s First Years adopting a pet to take with them to school. This is basically the one time out of the year, besides Christmas, when the shop is bloody busy and of course, OF COURSE, it is also happens to be James’ first day.

He is SO going to quit.

When I got to FFF an hour before opening, parents and their kids were already waiting impatiently at the door. A mum literally cursed at me when I told her we weren’t opening for at least another hour. Ugh.

Dad was refilling the water bowls for the kneazles when I stepped in.

“Good morning, Kit Kat!” He says brightly.

I grunt in response. “A woman just told me she’s going to Eeylops Owl Emporium instead.”

He rolls his eyes and scratches a kneazle under her chin. She purrs happily. “How bloody sad. It’s really going to hurt our business without her. . .”

I snort and grab the step stool to reach the hanging cages to check on the four owls we have in the shop. Eeylops may have like a billion owls but that is literally all they have. At least WE have a variety of different animals to choose from. Some customers have never even heard of ferrets before. It’s what really sets us apart from the rest. The pretty little owls hoot at me and I smile.

“When is Harry- erm, the NEW guy showing up?” Dad asks me as I slide the step up ladder back in it’s spot behind the cash register counter.

“I told him to be here at 8 when we open. Hopefully the crowd doesn’t scare him off.” I tell him.

“Nah. But a woman did pinch me in the arm because she thought I was trying to cut her in line.”

I nearly gasp at the sight of James standing in the middle of the shop. I didn’t even hear the bells chime above the door. Dad chuckles and shakes his head before walking up to James and sticks his hand out. James looks a bit nervous but smiles charmingly of course.

“It’s nice to finally meet our new recruit. It’s James, isn’t?” Dad says and I nearly sigh at him trying to act like he doesn’t know his name at all. He thinks he’s slick.

“Yes, sir. I’m so grateful for this opportunity. Thank you so much for hiring me Mr. Mackenzie.”

Dad laughs and waves his hand around. “Oh please! Call me Nolan. And no need to thank me. It was my daughter that hired you. She said you had something special.”

Oh my Merlin. Why did he just say that?????

James looks in my direction with a look of surprise. “You think I’m special Kitty? That’s so sweet of you.”

I try to play it cool but I am totally caught off guard by all of this. “Yeah, well. . . lets see how you do. You haven’t had your first day yet.”

“But I AM early.” He replies with a toothy grin.

I can’t help but smile back.

And then we’re just standing there. Smiling at each other. For like. . . a minute or two, until Dad coughs and I literally turn bright red. How bloody embarrassing. Dad is trying so hard to keep himself from grinning like a mad-man. I can just tell how pleased he is that Harry Potter’s son is working here with us.

“Kitty why don’t you show James around the shop and introduce him to everyone before we open. Oh and definitely get him a t-shirt from the office.” Dad tells me. I nod my head and make my way towards the back of the shop where the office is, James in tow.

I shuffle through the box of yellow t-shirts with Fur, Feathers and Fins embroidered on them. “Erm, what size do you think?” I ask him.

“I’ll try a medium.” He says and clears his throat. This feels so incredibly awkward. I throw him a medium shirt and as if things couldn't get ANY more awkward for me, James LITERALLY takes off his sweater and is shirtless. In front of me. In a closed door room. And he has abs. And he looks GOOD.

Merlin. Please help me.

I steer James towards the left side of the shop and decide to start with the easiest. The Goldfish. James stares at the tank with his mouth open.

“Have you never seen a goldfish?” I ask him.

“They’re made of gold??” James asks seriously and I almost burst out laughing.

“No. These little guys are a popular muggle pet fish. We have magical creatures and non-magical here. I can’t believe you’ve never seen a goldfish! They’re actually pretty tough to sell. Most kids want a pet they can snuggle.”

I continue babbling, explaining what we do to care for them and a little bit of facts to get people to adopt them and I feel like a loser, going on and on about cleaning the gunk off a fish tank, but James listens intently and nods his head like he really understands me.

We continue onto the three non-magical corn snakes, the one runespoor that is difficult to get adopted because the species was once popular by Dark Wizards but the one we have is the sweetest little guy ever, then I show him the four turtles, the five little bowtruckles that I adore, the seven toads that James definitely isn’t a fan of because he makes a face when he thinks I’m not looking, then the lizards. I introduce him to the rest of the kneazles and cats and Monty leaps into James’ arms. For the rest of the tour, Monty sits happily in his arms.

When we get to the ferrets I expect him to be surprised but he says how Albus has had one since he was eleven and that he actually got it from here which surprises me. We go through the rats, the puffskeins and the knarls which I favor a bit, I will admit it, then the guinea pigs. James stops short when we get to the snidgets.

“Wait, aren’t these-”

“Yep,” I interrupt him. “The Golden Snidget is modeled after these little guys. Way back when they actually used them during Quidditch matches.”

“Wow.” He says.

I nod my head. “They’re very rare but Dad knows a guy and so forth. Only someone incredibly special will be able to take one home, keep that in mind.”

James grins. “Incredibly special like me?”

I raise an eyebrow. “I never said INCREDIBLY. . .”

He gives me a sweet little smile and I nearly melt into a puddle. “Anyway, we have just one more stop. The peach-faced lovebirds.”

“The what?” he asks and I point to the two birds. He smiles excitedly at them. “Merlin, they are so adorable!”

“Yes, they live up to their name. These two are literally lovebirds. Can’t separate them.”

“Aw.”

“Don’t be fooled by their little bodies. They have BIG personalities. And the girl one bites sometimes.”

“Sometimes?!” He exclaims. “How will I know if she will or not?”

I suppress a grin and shrug. “That’s the joy of working with animals. You never know what will happen.”

“I suppose so,” he mutters.

I hope he isn’t regretting this. But the way he snuggles Monty to his chest gives me hope he will at least try this out. I show him the loo and the supplies closet where everything is for taking care of the animals and that’s that. Once we finish, it is officially 8 o’clock and Dad is unlocking the door.

James stands beside me behind the counter and it’s weird to see someone like him looking nervous. I nudge his shoulder and send him a small smile. “You’ll do fine. The first day is always nerve-wrecking. I’ve basically lived here all my life and my first official day I accidentally left the cage door to the ferrets open and one crawled up some old lady's leg.”

James forces a smile. “Hopefully I don’t do that.”

“Yeah,” I say wistfully. “You really shouldn't crawl up some old lady’s leg. Though it would put is front and center on the Daily Prophet.”

James roars with laughter and I feel a sudden twinge of happiness that I made him laugh like that.

“Don’t worry, you’ve had first day of work before. It’s not that different.” I continue, thinking about that article in the Daily that I read a couple years ago about James joining the Chudley Cannons, though I don’t know why he isn’t still now. . .

He immediately stops smiling and frowns, looking anywhere but at me. Ugh, great. Leave it to me to say the wrong thing and ruin everything.

“I’m sorry, did I-”

James shakes his head and I stop. He tries to smile but it doesn’t meet his eyes. “It’s not for me. Now where do you want me, boss?”

“Um. . . you can set Monty down here, he usually makes his way to the counter anyway, and um, grab the broom and sweep up a bit.” Wow does it feel weird telling James Potter what to do. And he actually does it!

I’m standing there basically stalking him while he sweeps near the guinea pigs for a bit before a customer comes up to the register. I get ready to see which little creature she’s got to take home when I realize she’s about sixteen and doesn’t have a pet at all. Her eyes are wide while she looks straight at me.

“Is that James Potter?” She whispers to me.

“Um, yes. Can I help you with anything?” I ask her. The girl SHRIEKS and turns back to a group of teenage girls basically hiding behind cages and watching James. “Guys! It is him! Oh my GOD!”

They all start giggling and getting all excited. And saying how hot he is, which I mean obviously he is. I’m pretty sure everyone is attracted to that guy. Even Monty is in love with him and he hates everyone. But this is just ridiculous. I didn’t even think this would happen.

I cash out a couple people who came in to buy pet supplies/food but I notice a few new people checking out James. He doesn’t even notice. Or at least pretends not to notice. He just continues working, once refills the water for the knarls and then (I can’t believe it) cleans up the vomit that Monty lovely left beside the counter. He sends me a boyish smile afterwards and I burn all over.

Towards the middle of the day and the crowds are dying down, Dad comes by to take my place at the register so I can take my break. I look for James so I can tell him how great he is at the cleaning and keeping up with it because believe me not everyone can do it with a damn smile like he has been. But when I spot him at the goldfish tank he’s talking to a middle-aged woman and a little boy who can’t be more than five.

Of course I eavesdrop on this.

“Sweetie, don’t you want something more. . . interesting?” The mom asks her son. He shrugs all shyly in front of James and James gets on his knees to be eye-level with him and smiles.

“Did you know that goldfish are very smart, despite how small they are?” He asks him.

“Really?” the little boy says.

James nods his head, very seriously. “They recognize people and will get excited when they see you. And you can train them!”

“Is that so?” The mom asks, clearly mocking. But James continues, “Yep! You can train them to swim through hoops, mazes, and even push a ball through a net! Isn’t that awesome?”

The little boy nods his head excitedly.

“Now, if I wanted to get an interesting pet, I’d want a goldfish. Blimey, just the name itself is pretty cool!”

The little boy tugs on his mom's hand and goes, “I want one! Please mummy!”

She sighs and looks up at James. “I guess we’re taking one home.”

James smiles brightly. “Awesome! I’ll get everything ready for you and I will meet you at the register.” He looks down at the little boy. “Do you want to pick your new friend out?” Which the boy does happily.

I watch the rest of the interaction and try not to interject, hoping James remembers everything I told him to do: Grab a bowl, fill it with the correct temperature water, use the net to grab the fish, secure the bowl with a lid, grab a pamphlet about Goldfish, and drop the food in a bag before bringing it all to the register. James does it all and if possible, better than anyone I have ever seen.

The little boy and his mom leave with smiles on their faces and I feel a sense of proudness. He did such a great job! I knew he had something special.

“How do you think I did?”

I jump and whirl around to find James smirking at me. I grab a cloth and pretend I was cleaning the shelves.

“What? I don’t know what you’re talking about. . .” I try lying.

He leans against the shelves and crosses his arms. I don’t know how but he looks even hotter doing so. “You’re a bad liar,” he tells me.

“I know,” I say lamely. “But you did really really great! I’m proud of you.”

James looks taken aback by my response and he uncrosses his arms and runs a hand through his messy hair. “Thanks. . . That really means a lot.” He says meaningfully.

I smile warmly. “Not everyone can clean up vomit and smile about it.”

“I was NOT smiling about the vomit,” he says with a laugh. “It’s hard not to smile while being around a pretty girl.”

My body feels like it’s up in flames and he looks down at me with a soft expression. His brown eyes flicker to my lips I SWEAR and I find myself looking at his damn lips and Merlin. . . I want him to kiss me. I don’t even care that we’re in a smelly pet shop, leaning against shelves, and Dad is standing just ten feet away at the counter.

The bell chimes above the door and the heat of the moment sizzles out just like that. I’m about to ask if he wants to take this one until whoever just came into the shop starts asking my dad if James Potter really works here.

We turn the corner and it’s Lily Potter, his younger sister, and Gavin beside her. They’re holding hands and my eyebrows basically fly into my hairline. I have NEVER seen Gavin hold hands with a girl. At least not in public. I’m shocked.

“Lils, seriously?” James asks her, a bit annoyed.

She grins widely at him. “Yes, bloody seriously! What kind of a sister would I be if I didn’t visit my big brother on his first day at work?”

“A great one,” he answers but he doesn’t seem all that mad about it.

Lily spots me after a moment and beams at me. “Hi! I’m so terribly sorry for the way I acted the other night. I’m Lily.”

“Oh. . .It’s okay. You just scared me, that’s all.” I reply.

Gavin sends me a wavering look and I cock an eyebrow at him. He shrugs back. We’ll discuss this later but from what it looks like, my best mate has finally decided to settle down.

“Lily has the tendency to scare people. It’s the red hair.” James jokes and Lily rolls her eyes about it. “Whatever. Anyway, James this is Gavin. I think you guys remember each other from Hogwarts?”

They both nod at each other like guys do sometimes. It’s kind of uncomfortable because I know that Gavin absolutely hated James when we were in Hogwarts. He used to call him Asshat behind his back. And James was always arguing with him about never practicing enough because he was always up late with some girl of the month. And now Gavin is dating Lily.

So: Awkwardness.

“We’re going to dinner at that new restaurant, The Tipsy Pixie.” Lily says and Dad chimes in, “Oh that place is wonderful! I recommend the kale soup.”

I peer a glance at him. “When did YOU go there?”

He gives me a weird look. “A couple weeks ago. I didn’t tell you?”

“Um, nope. Who did you go with?” I can’t help but ask. Dad doesn’t really do much of anything outside the shop and usually we go to places together. And The Tipsy Pixie is supposed to be a fancy place and I just cannot picture Dad there. At all.

“An old friend. You don’t know them.” He answers shortly.

Hm. Okay, then.

“We better get going, Lily.” Gavin tells her. She nods her head and tells James not to screw up too much and then sends me a friendly wink. Before they go Gavin says to me, “I’ll see you at home later.”

“Princess Bride tonight?” I ask him. We watch that muggle film like almost every weekend. It’s my favorite. Him, not so much but we’re best mates so he has no choice.

He groans in response before the door shuts behind them.

I chuckle to myself and James stares at me oddly. I touch my hair insecurely. “What is it?”

“You two live together?” He asks me.

“Yeah. We’re best mates.” I tell him. “I thought you knew that.” He did say how I used to distract Gavin during matches back at Hogwarts which is ridiculous and so not true.

“Erm, no. Actually, I thought. . . Nevermind.”

“What?”

He runs a hand through his hair. “I thought you two were together back then.”

“Well, yeah, we’re best friends. . .”

“No,” he says while shaking his head. “Together, together. In a relationship.”

“Oh Merlin,” I say out loud. “No. Definitely not. Just best mates. I can’t believe you thought that. . .”

He looks relieved. I don’t know why, but I’m hoping (praying and wishing, too) that it’s because he might have a thing for me. I know it’s probably stupid of me for thinking it, but a girl can dream can’t she?

Dad coughs and reels me back from my dreaming. “I hate to break the obvious chemistry bubbling between you two, but Monty just vomited.”

Oh my Merlin. Seriously, Dad?

#hpft #hpff #james sirius potter #james sirius potter x oc #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter fanfic #harry potter next generation #harry potter #fanfiction #james potter #james potter/oc #my writing #mine #ff #fanfic

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