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dream-a-little-bigger-x · 4 years

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Never Enough | Owen Patrick Joyner

Request: Can you please write a piece with owen maybe a little angsty like she doesn’t think she’s good enough for him so she distanced herself from him but he catches on and reassures her 🥺

Author’s note: I absolutely sobbed writing this. I really did need a sad fic to cry it out today, so thanks for requesting this! I hope you like it :)

Pairing: Owen Joyner x reader

Warnings: Angst, anxiety, self-doubt, lots of crying

Words: 3,275

You had been feeling terrible the past few weeks. There was no reason at all to feel like this besides maybe your boyfriend, Owen, being in Vancouver filming for Julie and The Phantoms while you were still stuck in Norman, Oklahoma. But other than that, there was no reason for you to feel like this. And still, you felt like crap. It was almost as if something heavy was pressing down on your chest and you could just feel something was off. Something wasn’t right.

You had called Owen a few times, in tears, sobbing about how terribly you felt and how everything just felt wrong. He comforted you as well as he could through a phone screen and sang you to sleep almost every night. But he still felt bad for leaving you behind in Oklahoma. That’s why he decided to book you a ticket to Vancouver, so you could come stay with him and Charlie, and join them on set. He knew you could take a few days off of work or do some stuff remotely, plus he was convinced it would really make you feel better.

When the weekend finally came around, you packed your bags and hopped on a plane to Vancouver. You were finally going to see your boyfriend again after months of not seeing each other, and the thought alone made you feel a little better already.

The second you spotted the mop of blonde hair, your heart leapt as did your feet in the run up to him. Launching yourself into his arms, you felt like you could finally breathe again. And with that exhale, came the tears again.

“Why are you crying, Baby?” he mumbled into your hair as he held you as close to him as possible. You pushed yourself off him to look at his face and wipe away your tears, chuckling.

“It’s happy tears, I promise. Just… I missed you so much,” you replied. Owen’s expression turned from worried into endeared as he looked at you. He grabbed your face in his hands, his thumbs helping you wipe away the tears.

“Aw, I missed you too, Little One. Let’s get home now, shall we?” You nodded your head, and Owen’s hands dropped from your face, one trailing down to grab your hand, the other your suitcase. With hands intertwined, the two of you exited the airport and made your way to the car.

Though, there was still this gnawing feeling at the pit of your stomach, you knew it was going to get better the more time you’d spend with Owen. You pinned the anxious feeling you still had to the fact you needed more of Owen in your day after having spent so long without.

“Here you go, Little One,” he said as he pushed the door to his and Charlie’s apartment open, letting you go inside first. With Owen trailing behind you, you stepped into the place, and were immediately met with a cinnamon-y scent. You grew more and more confused and curious as you walked further into the living room, finding Charlie in the open-plan kitchen, leaning his elbows on the counter as he scrolled through his phone. A light lit up the oven, showing a tray of cinnamon rolls baking, your very favorite.

“Gorgeous, did you bake for me?” you asked, looking up at Owen. Your words made Charlie look up from his phone, a smile finding its way to his lips upon seeing you.

“We did,” he corrected you while walking towards the two of you. “Welcome to Vancouver, y/n,” he greeted and took you in for a hug as Owen shut the door and took your suitcase into the living room. “How was your flight?” He pulled away from you and made his way to Owen with you.

“Good, but can we not just glace over the fact that the two of you baked cinnamon rolls?!” You didn’t peg either of the boys to be bakers. You knew for a fact Owen wasn’t the greatest baker as the one time you baked together, he completely ruined the dough by adding egg whites to it when the eggs had to be seperated.

“Charlie is actually a pretty decent baker,” Owen said with a smile and plopped down on the sofa, patting the space beside him. You inhaled deeply, the faint scent of burning reaching your nostrils. Trying your hardest to withhold a laugh, you turned to Charlie.

“Right, that’s why they’re nearly burning in the oven,” you said sarcastically. The panicked look on Charlie’s face was the best thing you’ve ever witnessed. His eyes grew wide before he sprinted to the kitchen, cursing and panicking, and getting the cinnamon rolls out.

“They’re good! They’re good!” he shouted as he placed the tray onto the counter. “Wanna come and drizzle them with some of that white stuff?” You bit back a laugh at the innuendo before walking over to Charlie and helping him out with the royal icing.

You could already feel the anxiety was slowly washing away. All you needed was these two himbos and a couple of cinnamon rolls, and you’d feel a million times better.

The three of you spent that night, cuddled up on the sofa, eating cinnamon rolls, talking and watching a ton of movies together. It kind of felt like coming home in a way. Because Owen was your home. Even though you’d always thought it was kind of cliché when people said “home is in your arms” but you couldn’t deny that it was true. Home was in Owen’s arms with his heartbeat softly thumping against your cheek as you laid on his chest.

Owen had been your boyfriend since the seventh grade. You’d been friends before that since you lived on the same street and went to the same school. You remembered the first day of seeing him move in a few houses down in the calm cul-de-sac you lived in. Ever since that day, the calm cul-de-sac wasn’t quite as calm anymore. He’d always ask for you to come and play with him whenever he was bored -- which was a lot, and, when you got older that kindly asking to come and play, turned into calling you in the middle of the night to sneak out and go on an adventure with him.

He never really asked you out. At your thirteenth birthday party, when everyone had left and Owen was allowed to stay over, he just kind of kissed you on the lips and told you he liked you. That’s how you kind of established you were boyfriend and girlfriend, which sounded hilarious to you when you remembered it later.

When Owen went off to L.A. to pursue his acting career, you’d kind of broke up, thinking it would be easier that way, but when you turned seventeen and he came back to Norman, OK for a while, the both of you realized you were actually in love with each other. It wasn’t that cute Middle School crush anymore. And now, you were still very much in love at 19 years old. You just knew this was going to be it. This is the guy you wanted to spend the rest of your life with. Owen was peak husband material.

Owen and Charlie took you to set the next day. You had already met all of them when you came to visit him at bootcamp in the summer. Unlike what you expected, everyone remembered you and was happy to see you again.

“We should all go to dinner together tonight!” Savannah exclaimed excitedly. She was the first one you met years ago when Owen was on the Nickelodeon show Knight Squad. You immediately clicked with the bubbly personality that is Savannah Lee May. You just loved how she came bouncing up to you when you visited them on set to introduce herself. Add to that the utter beauty and kind-heartedness, and you’ve got yourself a new best friend. The two of you FaceTimed regularly and texted daily, it almost made Owen jealous.

But now that you were seeing him on set with all these amazingly talented people that became his best friends, you were getting slightly jealous. Not the ‘one of you is going to steal my boyfriend away’, but the gnawing jealousy when you realize he’s built up this entire new life outside of Norman, outside of you. Even if you weren’t here, he’d still be this happy.

You wished you could shake the anxiety over the jealous feeling in your stomach, but you were unable to. All day long, you trailed behind the group, absently laughing along whenever the others did and just watching from the sidelines as Owen interacted with all these people. Even at dinner, you couldn’t stop thinking about it.

Owen started to notice how you’d quieted down during the day, and at dinner, he leaned into you and asked, “Hey, you okay, Little One?” in your ear. Chills ran down your spine at his hot breath blowing in your hair.

“Yeah, just a little tired, is all,” you replied and offered him a half-hearted smile. It didn’t convince Owen at all, but decided not to ask any further. Your relationship had always been built up of open communication and mutual trust. So, now he had to trust you would talk to him if something was really bothering you. But how do you tell someone you hate seeing him have a life beside you. That’s just plain selfish.

The next day, you decided to stay at the apartment instead of going to work with Owen. You had a few mails to catch up on and could keep up with some work here, anyway. Though you knew you weren’t going to do much of that.

“You sure you don’t wanna come?” Owen asked once more as you were settled on the couch with your laptop in your lap, ready to pretend to work. As you looked up at him, he was pouting and had a worried expression on his face. You were certain he knew work wasn’t the only reason you wanted to stay home for the day.

“Yeah, there’s just a few things I need to do,” you lied, shooting him your most convincing smile. Charlie and Owen exchanged glances, both of them knowing you weren’t being 100% truthful. The latter sighed deeply before making his way towards you and pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Have a good day at work, Gorgeous,” you said to him with all the excitement you could muster up to sound convincing.

“Yeah, you too, Little One,” he mumbled and left the living room.

“Goodbye, y/n!” Charlie shouted with a wave while Owen ushered him out the door. A small smile fought his way to your lips at the interaction between the two. They really were the best of friends.

“Bye, Charlie!” you shouted back.

The silence fell over the apartment as well as a heavy weight on your shoulders. You felt terrible for feeling this way. You knew you should be happy for Owen that he had so many amazing friends around him and that he loved his work so much. But you couldn’t help but feel sad about it too. The more he integrated here in Vancouver with all these amazing people, the more he let go of Norman, Oklahoma. The more he let go of you.

Tears pricked in your eyes as the thoughts raced through your mind. You could keep them at bay for a while until the image of Owen laughing at something Madi had said flooded your mind and pushed the tears out. You placed your laptop on the coffee table and grabbed a pillow, hugging it close to you as sobs raked through your body. There was no good reason for you to feel this way, but you still did. You felt bad for feeling this jealous of friends of Owen, of your friends. It truly just felt like he was letting go of you and his life in Norman, and you didn’t know how to handle that. You didn’t know how to handle losing someone you’ve had in your life for such a long time.

By the time the boys came home, you had stopped crying and were half paying attention to a movie you’d found on Netflix. None of the work you actually did want to do had been done, and you’d even forgotten to eat. Which you only realized when the aromatic smell of pizza filled up the apartment.

“Hey, Gorgeous,” Owen greeted as he walked into the living room. When his eyes fell on the little ball of a mess you were, his demeanor changed entirely. He went from somewhat cheerful into full-blown concern. “Are you alright?” he asked, placing the boxes of pizza on the dining table before walking up to you. You sat up from your previously sprawled out position at once, your heart breaking as a million thoughts flew through your mind. You were upset with him for building up something incredibly for himself beside you, and even more upset at yourself because you were upset at him.

“Don’t,” you snapped curtly, holding your hand up, “Take another step because I will break.” Owen swallowed visibly as he froze in the middle of the living room. He stuttered and stumbled over words of confusion and worry. “I can’t do this anymore, Owen.” You rubbed your hands over your face before looking up at him again. The look on his face screamed confusion. He had no clue what he’d done wrong or what had happened for you to suddenly think that.

“What are you talking about, y/n?” His voice cracked as he choked back tears, breaking your heart even more. You hated yourself for feeling this way, but you just couldn’t handle it. You didn’t know how to handle it.

“You, having a life I don’t belong in…” The words came out in a whisper. You barely even dared to speak your thoughts out loud. You were very aware that this was all crazy talk, but this was the only way to save the relationship from becoming toxic.

“What do you mean, Little One? You do belong in my life, I--” He shut up when you held your hand up to make him stop before you got up from the couch and walked towards the bedroom you’d shared with him for the past two nights. The place you’d fallen asleep in, feeling so safe and happy. Now it just felt cold and daunting.

“I’ve booked a ticket back home,” you choked on fresh tears as you walked into the bedroom. Owen’s loud voice bouncing off the walls made you stop in the doorway, your heart pounding loudly in your chest as you listened but didn’t look at him.

“No! No, y/n! You don’t get to just walk away without properly explaining what I’ve done wrong!” You waited a few beats after the last words had rolled off his lips, gathering all your courage before turning around to face him. You regretted that action immediately as the first thing you saw were the hot tears rolling over Owen’s cheeks.

“Look at your life, Owen. You got all these friends and an amazing job in a completely different country and I can’t help but feel left out, like I’ll never be enough. I feel like you’ve built this entire life away from Norman, Oklahoma. Away from me. And I know -- I know I shouldn’t feel like this and I hate myself for feeling like this but I can’t…” you took a shaky breath, “I just can’t pretend I don’t feel it and I can’t pretend for the sake of our relationship -- for your sake -- that I don’t feel it. I just, I can’t, Owen…”

Owen grew completely silent at your words, his heart slowing down as it broke. He thought he had everything in life. The perfect job, the perfect friends, the perfect significant other. And now everything just seemed to crumble down right in front of him. It just all seemed so perfectly balanced out with you being friends with his friends. He was completely mistaken. He knew something was wrong when you’d distanced yourself so much the day before and why you didn’t come with them to work.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered before turning around again to grab your stuff, but once again, you were stopped. Not by his voice this time, but by his hand grabbing your wrist and forcing you to turn around.

“Please, y/n, don’t do this,” he whispered, his voice cracking ever so softly. Tears clouded your vision as you looked at him apologetically. “No, baby, no, please don’t do this. I can’t-- I can’t live without you. It’s because of you I managed to come this far with this job. It’s thanks to you I even dared to do this audition because you believed in me. I wouldn’t have even tried for Alex if it wasn’t for you encouraging me. Please, baby. Everyone in the cast and crew loves you, y/n, I promise you. Charlie told me earlier he wanted to ask you to live with us,” you looked up at Charlie, who had retreated in the kitchen, chewing on a slice of pizza as he listened with tears glistening in his eyes. “Savannah has loved you since you met when we did Knight Squad. Madi and Jadah see you as a big sister, and Jeremy just loves joking around with you,... They all love you so, so much, baby. Kenny! Kenny even asked where you were today.” Owen sniffled before taking another deep breath. “I can’t do this without you, y/n, please, don’t leave me. I love you so, so much.” The both of you dissolved into sobs as he sunk onto the floor on his knees, wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his head against your stomach. He pleaded and begged, and your heart broke into a thousand pieces seeing him like this.

“Please, y/n,” you suddenly heard from the kitchen. When you looked up, you found Charlie walking closer with tears running down his cheeks. “Just stay… You belong here. With Owen, with all of us. We love you so much, we don’t want you to leave, ever.” Another sob raked through your body as fresh tears escaped your eyes. You finally let your hands fall on Owen’s head before kneeling down in front of him, your hands sliding down to his cheeks.

“I am sorry for feeling this way, Owen, I--I love you so much,” you whispered, sniffling. Owen searched your eyes for an answer. He wasn’t sure if this was goodbye or not. “I feel so stupid for feeling this way, I should’ve just told you I was doubting myself, for doubting us. I am so, so, so sorry.” A soft smile lit up his entire face as more tears rolled down.

“I love you so much, y/n. Please, don’t ever leave me,” he cried and buried his face into your neck as he hugged you tightly. You pushed him off you gently and cupped his face before pressing your lips to his in a passionate, kind of salty from the tears, kiss.

“I love you so much, Gorgeous,” you whispered and kissed him again.

For the first time in weeks, you felt okay again. Completely and utterly okay. Nothing could ever stop you from loving this man. Nothing could ever take you away from him. This was for forever. You and him. Forever.

Taglist: @hannahhistorian92 @marinettepotterandplagg @thequirkybookaholic @bookdealer5 @tenaciousperfectionunknown @hemmingsness @iainttakingshitfromnobody @ifilwtmfc @angryknightstatesmantrash @kiss-themoongoodbye @rudysbay @thedarkqueenofavalon @caitsymichelle13 @calamitykaty @wiselight @kcd15 @vicesvsvirtuesfanfic @stars-soph @kinda-really-lost

#julie and the phantoms #julie and the himbos #jatp #owen joyner #owen joyner x reader #owen joyner au #owen joyner fic #alex jatp #jatp fic #jatp au #jatp fandom #fantoms

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bothcreativitybois · 3 years

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TMST Chapter 8

I was freaking out because no one was commenting on Chapter 8... turns out I hadn’t posted it... 🤡 I am so sorry. Ao3 link Wordcount: 2507 Ship: Intruality TWs: Food, hospital, crying Chapters: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 Taglist: @crazydemigod666 @star-crossed-shipper @newtnotfound @3amthebitchinghour @idont-freaking-know @someoneiwasnt @crownofrats @the-sympathetic-villain @cute-and-angsty-princess @lonelymuffin @bloodyjay-0666 @im-an-anxious-wreck @fantasticallytired @obsessive-fallen-angel

“What do you mean I can’t bake?!” Patton shouted. “It’s a bakery!” Remus put up his hands to try and calm the angry man. “Janus just needs a day or two to get some of the painting done with spray paint.” Remus explained, his truck behind him filled with tarps and paints. “You said you wanted all the paint done for the Valentine's Day class, right?” “Yeah I know…” Patton huffed. He really didn’t like the idea of being locked out of the kitchens for two days. “Well it’s later this week. He can do brush for most of it but he wants to do this one part with spray paint.” Remus continued. “Consider it a vacation.” Remus tried to help Patton see the bright side. Patton sighed. “Just two days?” Patton asked. Remus put his hands on Patton’s shoulders. “Yes, that’s all. You deserve the break anyway.” Remus comforted. Patton looked up at the sign Remus had hung yesterday, the one he’d been waiting months for and Remus had it up in only about a week. Remus was doing so much to help him. He trusted him. “Alright.” Patton finally agreed. “But please have it done as soon as possible.” “Of course. You can trust me.” Remus said, Janus scoffed behind him. Patton laughed. He looked up at the sign again. It reminded him of something. Something he hadn’t done in a while. “You’re okay doing it all with just the two of you?” Patton asked. “If Remus touches my paint’s I’ll stab him in the hand again.” Janus shouted from the truck. “Again?” Patton turned to Remus who just shrugged. “We’ll be okay. Go do whatever you want.” Remus assured again as he pushed Patton towards his car.

An hour later Patton was in the city. He had stopped at a florist to get some flowers. As he walked in he was almost floored with all the scents that hit him at once. As he looked over the pots and shelves full of colourful flowers a worker came up to him. “Anything I can help with?” The lady asked in a friendly tone. Patton looked up quickly. He glanced quickly at the name tag that read ‘Charlie’. “Believe it or not I’m looking for flowers.” Patton joked, Charlie offered a polite laugh. “Anything in particular?” Charlie looked around at the mounds of flowers. Patton thought for a moment. He knew the answer to this. The same he always got. “Carnation and Peruvian lily.” Patton answered. The worker suddenly had a realisation. “You must be Patton.” Charlie said after a moment. Patton laughed. “I come here that much, huh?” He joked. Truthfully it wasn’t his first time here, but he’d never met Charlie before so he didn’t want to act like he knew the shop. It’d been a while since he came here so he thought maybe the staff had forgotten him anyway. “There’s a note behind the counter on your usual bouquet.” Charlie clarified. “I can make it for you right now.” She walked off and began gathering flowers. Patton looked around as she worked. He was drawn to the back of the store. A shelf without flowers, just small bottles. Most seemed to be perfumes or flower oils but one stood out. “When did you start stocking rose essence?” Patton asked as he plucked the bottle off the shelf. Charlie didn’t look up from arranging the flowers. “Just got it last week.” She shouted from her workstation. Patton turned the small bottle of flavouring over in his hands and inspected the clear liquid inside. “You a baker or a bartender?” Patton turned and began walking to the counter, bottle in hand. “Baker.” He said proudly, although he wasn’t sure how much longer he would be able to call himself that. “Those are the only two kinds of people we get looking for that.” Charlie said as she taped up the paper around the flowers. With Valentine's Day coming soon he knew he could find some way to use it. He paid for the flowers and also got a bottle of the essence. He dropped his essence in the car and looked across the street at his next stop. It was really convenient that they had a florist across from the hospital. He walked into the reception and was greeted with a familiar face this time. “Patton! Long time no see.” The nurse said. “Here to see Moe?” The nurse already knew the answer but asked nonetheless. “Of course.” Patton responded. The nurse typed a few things on the computer before looking up again. “She’s still in the same room. You can go on through.” The nurse smiled. Patton nodded. “Thanks Kait!” Patton called as he walked away. He began humming to himself as he walked. A small song he made to remember the way. “Third hall left, up two flights, fifth room right. Third hall left, up to flights, fifth room right.” Patton hummed this all the way until he reached the right room. At this point he didn’t really need the song to remember but it had become a habit. It helped calm his nerves. He took a deep breath and knocked gently on the already slightly open door. He didn’t know why he was so nervous, she was the one who asked he visited less. She wanted him to focus on the bakery. “Come in.” A voice answered. Patton pushed open the door the rest of the way. He looked over at the bed to see his mother, she smiled as soon as she saw him. “Froggy.” She cheered. Patton quickly walked over and hugged her. “Hi Mum.” He whispered as she squeezed him tightly. He didn’t realise how much he missed her hugs until he was having one. He leaned back and gave her the flowers he was carrying. Even though she got this same bouquet each time he visited she was still excited and sniffed it deeply. “Thank you, dear. It’s lovely.” She said caressing the flowers. “How have you been?” Patton asked finally as he pulled a chair close to the bed. His mother sat up quickly and turned to him. A wide proud smile broke across her face. “They’re saying if the inflammation stays where it is then I should be out by the end of the month!” She announced excitedly. Patton smiled. He wanted to get excited, he really did, but the doctors said the same thing last month. “That’s great!” Patton praised with as much excitement he could muster. “I can’t wait to have you back.” Patton reached out a hand and his mother took it in hers. He really meant that. He missed having his mother around to handle business while he baked. He missed having her hug him each morning. He missed her doting over every new recipe, how she lit up when she tried it, how she would smile proudly as he baked, how she would poke his cheek and tell him everything will be okay. He missed her. “How’s the bakery?” Moe asked. She knew it was in bad shape when she left, but Patton hadn’t visited in nearly a month. She was blissfully unaware of everything happening. Patton wasn’t and fidgeted at the question. “Well… there was a bit of a mix up.” He began. As he looked up he saw her face change. She was so happy a moment ago but now she looked scared. He hated seeing that. “Uh but don’t worry! It will all be fixed by the time you get out.” Patton misled. It wasn’t completely untrue, the problem would be over by then. It was just a question of how that would happen. “Are you sure you don’t need my help?” Moe stressed. Patton waved a finger. “You know that you aren’t supposed to work.” He reminded her. “Besides I actually have some people already helping.” He admitted. Moe looked over curiously. “People as in worker people or as in friend people?” Her voice sparkled mischievously. This was the first time Patton had seen her since he had met Remus and the others, she’d not heard anything about friends.

He explained everything that had happened, omitting the part where the bakery may be shut down. Moe listened closely, it was so long since she’d seen him and each day she just wanted to hear his voice again. As much as it hurt her to not see him as much as she used to, he needed to focus on the bakery, on making friends, on everything being normal again. She noticed something about the way he talked about this ‘Remus’ guy. The way he described him and the face he made when he spoke about him. It was more than just friendship. So when are you going to stop messing about and ask Remus on a date?” Moe said after Patton was done his story. Blunt as always. Patton blushed. “Wh-what?” Patton stuttered. He didn’t know why he felt so embarrassed about it. It wasn’t like he was a closeted high school kid anymore. “I don’t think he’s interested in me like that.” “Are you?” Moe asked quickly. “I don’t have the time to think about that.” Patton gave the same answer he’d given Janus. Moe gave him a hard stare. “Great. Now try again but tell me the truth.” She pressed. She could see right through him. Patton sighed. Perhaps it would be good to get it out. Especially with someone he trusted. “It’s a lot of things. Remus is the first guy I’ve been interested in since the break up which is a little startling. His friend has said he has an issue with boundaries and honestly I can see it. He doesn’t seem like the kind of guy that would date someone like me and even if he did I doubt we’d want the same things from it. He doesn’t seem like the guy who wants more than a hook-up or maybe a few dates.” Patton finally let out. He’d been holding it all in and it felt good to say it. Moe took a minute to process everything Patton had said. “I can think of one cure-all solution that might work.” Moe suggested after a while. Patton leaned in eagerly. “Just talk to the damn guy!” She shouted. Patton leaned back and sighed. He knew that was what he needed to do, but it was also the thing he was avoiding. He finally had someone, he had friends, and that could all be ruined if he said anything. “But what if it goes badly?” Patton said sadly. Moe took her son's hand once again. “Then it wasn’t gonna work out anyway. It might be better to get an answer now before it is too late and it hurts someone’s feelings very badly.” Moe soothed. Her son was so timid, she didn’t want him to miss out on something special because of it. But more so he was sensitive. And he made connections quickly. It was a perfect recipe for a crash and burn.

Patton stayed late at the hospital. Talking for hours with his mother, playing games in the visitor lounge, catching up. Until visiting hours ended and he had to leave. He clung to her one last time, knowing he wouldn’t get the chance to again for a while. When his mum was first brought to hospital when he was a teenager they had made a rule. No crying until after the visit. They had always stuck to this rule, even subconsciously. That’s why the tears didn’t hit until Patton was home. It wasn’t until he stepped into that cold night air that his eyes suddenly began to blur and his chest felt like it was disappearing. In that dark and silence he realised just how lonely he felt. He braced himself against the railing as he walked up the stairs to his apartment. As he got to the door he saw Remus sitting in front of it. He tried to wipe his face before Remus saw him but it was already too late. Remus didn’t say anything, he just ran up to Patton and hugged him. Patton fell into the hug without hesitation. He cherished the feeling of Remus’ arms wrapped around him. He suddenly didn’t feel as lonely. “You aren’t hurt, right?” Remus finally broke the silence but kept the hug. Patton laughed sadly. “No. I just…” Patton began. His mum’s words ran through his head. Just talk to the damn guy! “My mum is in the hospital and I went to visit her.” Patton admitted through sobs. It was the first time he’d told Remus about it. “She has an inflammatory disease and at the end of last year she had some problems with it that affected some of her organs, she’s been in the hospital ever since.” Remus tightened the hug. Patton felt himself nuzzle closer into the larger man’s chest as he heaved. “You don’t need to explain. I’m here for you.” Remus whispered. Patton gripped the back of his shirt. He was shaking like a baby foal on it’s first steps. “I felt so guilty at the picnic for having fun while she was stuck there.” Patton wheezed. Remus felt his heart break from Patton’s words. He didn’t know how to comfort people like Janus does, he wasn’t good with words like Roman. But none of that mattered. He just wanted Patton to be happy again. “Is there anything you want me to do that can help?” Remus asked. Patton looked up at him, eyes larger than the moon. “Just stay. Please.” Patton begged. As a response Remus pressed a kiss to the top of Patton’s head. “As long as you need.” Remus promised. And he did. He made Patton dinner while holding his hand, he waited just outside the bathroom as Patton showered, he turned off the lights and tucked Patton under the blankets. As Remus stepped away Patton grabbed his hand. He wasn’t ready to be alone again. “Not yet. Please don’t go.” Patton whispered weakly. Remus wasn’t sure what to do, but if Patton needed him then he would stay. He kicked off his shoes and climbed into the bed. Patton immediately clung to his chest again. Remus gently placed his arms around Patton again. He could feel each sob and catch in Patton’s breathing. “I’m sorry.” Patton choked. “Don’t be.” Remus reassured as he buried his face in Patton’s hair. “I’d want to sleep with me too.” He joked. He felt Patton giggle sadly at him. He smiled proudly at himself and pulled Patton closer. He kept track of every sob and heave until eventually they all became steady and the small man’s grip weakened. He knew he should leave, but he didn’t want to. He didn’t want to abandon Patton. Or the calming feeling of their bodies pressed together in the darkness. He talked circles in his mind debating whether to stay until finally sleep made the choice for him.

#roman took over #the mayor's sweet treat #sanders sides small town au #sanders sides fanfiction #sanders sides fic #intruality au #intruality #sanders sides #remus sanders #ts remus #patton sanders #ts patton #janus sanders #ts janus #tw food

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moldisgoodforyou · 4 years

Text

you’re my home

“why do i feel like jj would just love all the domestic aspects about being with charlie. like brushing their teeth together at night or watching her fold her clothes into the space he made in his dresser for her or watching her dance around the kitchen making coffee in the morning. like i feel like he would love the sense of home&simplicity he gets from those moments with her that he never got before from anywhere or anyone else”

inspiration from this ask ^ thank you :) this is just a set of little blurbs about what jj and charlie would be like living together!

wordcount: 2k

____

JJ wasn’t used to living with someone in such an intimate way. Sure, he had shared a dorm room with five other guys his freshman year, a sleeping dorm with way too many guys sophomore and junior year, and had the perk of a single bedroom in the frat house his senior year - but it wasn’t quite living alone. Living with John B in the summers wasn’t exactly the grown-up life he had envisioned as a kid, then after graduation, he moved into a pseudo-frat house with seven guys. The house was a constant mess and just plain chaotic, but it felt right - he didn’t think he was quite old enough to retire from the college lifestyle.

Once he got his job out in California, he moved in with Charlie and was quickly thrown into a world of home decor (apparently a hobby of hers he had never noticed). Lucky for her, he liked being handy and was able to help build a couple shelves and such and save a little money.

At first, they danced around each other a little. They made the abrupt switch from not seeing each other for months to living together in a matter of days, and it was an awkward exchange of being open about finances and squeezing past each other in the tiny bathroom to brush their teeth. But soon they found a groove, and JJ grew to love the pattern.

Though he would never, ever admit it, JJ was a romantic at heart. He insisted on music during dinner (“it sets the right ambience, Charlie”) and it always depended on his mood, carefully curated for the day.

After fumbling their way through a dinner recipe together, neither of them being skilled in the kitchen, Charlie insisted on starting on the dishes right away. “I don’t get why we have to do this instantly.” JJ complained, bumping his hip against hers. Charlie shook her head, handing him a dishtowel. “We’re trying to start a routine here. My parents always did it this way and it worked, so.”

“At my house we just used paper plates and threw them away. Or piled up the dishes for a few weeks and then finally scraped off the food.” JJ reasoned. Charlie just shot him a skeptical look, turning on the faucet. “JJ, I say this in the nicest way possible, but maybe we shouldn’t model our lifestyle after your childhood.” He laughed. “Yeah, yeah, you’re right.”

After a few dishes, he grew bored and swatted her butt with the towel, making her yelp. “Can we finish?” She asked, giving him an exasperated smile. JJ reached over and shut off the faucet, taking her hands as Love You For A Long Time by Maggie Rogers drifted through his phone speaker. “No, c’mere. We have a dishwasher for a reason.”

He pulled her away from the sink, roping her into a waltz with a goofy grin. “J.” Charlie protested, but let him lead her into a twirl. “Hush, pretty girl, I’m busy dancing.” He replied, pulling her close. Charlie didn’t hesitate to rest her head on his chest, swaying in a steady circle with him. This became a regular occurrence - she always objected at first, trying to finish cleaning a few more things, but then gave in to his embrace.

JJ also learned there was nothing better than coming home to his person. Their work schedules varied, but most days Charlie was home first if she wasn’t working an athletics event. If he had a bad day, she could usually tell just by the way his texts were short and to the point. One time, after a botched client meeting, he came home and dropped his bag by the door, not bothering to say anything to her as she sat on the couch.

“Hi to you too.” Charlie teased, following him into the kitchen. “Hey.” He acknowledged, grabbing a bag of chips from the pantry and pouring some onto a plate. “Long day?” She murmured, wrapping her arms around him from behind. He softened, turning so he could rest his chin on the top of her head, replicating the embrace. It was the sort of hug you could melt into, knowing you were safe in someone’s arms. “Love you.” He murmured, closing his eyes. She hugged him for a beat longer, then lifted her head to catch his lips. “Love you too, J.”

JJ grew into the habit of waking up before Charlie, partly because he was incapable of sleeping in on the west coast and partly because she was so damn cute when she slept. He learned to cook the basics for her, and always made sure she had a cup of coffee and some toast with scrambled eggs at the very least. (Pancakes were reserved for special occasions.) The first time he did it, he woke up her with barely enough time to get ready and eat. She was caught off guard and tried to show her appreciation, but had to do her makeup in the car that day. After, he learned to wake her up enough in advance.

The one time he overslept, he felt a weight on his conscience when he woke up to see Charlie already gone. She had to be at work early, but he had the day off, and they had stayed up til 3am last night after mutual agreements of ‘just one more episode.’ He woke up at 10am to a couple texts from her - snoozing in? and not gonna lie I’m hungry lol and immediately felt guilty.

He dragged himself out of bed, tugged on clothes and shoes, and drove down to their favorite coffee shop by their apartment, then straight to the UC Berkeley campus. JJ parked out front of her office and texted her, leaning up against the car. Charlie came out five minutes later, confused. “What are you doing here, isn’t it your day off?”

JJ held up a coffee and to-go bag with her favorite bagel flavor (that he had to practically beg the baker to make, since they were out). “You said you were hungry.” Charlie grinned, greeting him with a kiss. “You didn’t have to do this, hon, thank you.” He shrugged but filled with pride, knowing he was able to take care of his girl.

One day in December, Charlie came home in a bad mood. She let the front door slam shut behind her and barely acknowledged JJ in the kitchen before storming off to the bedroom, flopping down onto the bed with a dramatic sigh. Frowning, JJ stopped his cooking and followed her in moments later. “What’s wrong, did I do something?”

“No, you’re perfect.” She mumbled into the pillows. He paused before hesitantly reaching out to rub her back, unsure if she was being sarcastic. “Talk to me, pretty girl.” He was surprised to see a few tears welling up in her eyes as she lifted her head and curled into his side, resting an arm across his waist. “We got the bowl schedules today. I’ll be gone for two and a half whole weeks, including Christmas.”

“Oh.” He murmured before falling silent. With Charlie’s job as an athletic trainer with the football team at UC Berkeley, they had known she’d have to travel for post-season, but he never considered her having to be gone for so long. “Well, I’ll just buy a ticket, and I’ll come visit you on Christmas.”

She sniffled pathetically. “No, you have your tradition with the Pogues. You haven’t seen them in so long. And I’ll be so busy with work, I’ll hardly see you anyways.” Charlie sighed, a small pout on her lips. “My mom is gonna kill me.”

JJ frowned and pressed a kiss to her forehead before running a thumb over her lips. “How about...I go back to the Outer Banks, but I go to your place for Christmas dinner? I’ll check in on your family and everything. And then when you’re back, we can go home again or we can have Christmas with just us. Your choice.”

She lifted her head, biting her lower lip now to try not to cry more than she already had that day. “Really? You’d do that for me?” He pulled her onto his lap and kissed her sweetly. “Of course. I know it’s important to you.” That was enough to break the seal and a few stray tears fell down her cheeks as she buried her face in the crook of his neck again. “God, I love you.” He laughed softly and continued to rub her back soothingly. “Love you too, sweetheart.”

In the days leading up to her departure, he kept stealing extra glances at her as they went through the little motions of everyday life. Sure, they had been apart for nearly six months when they did long-distance, but now that they were back to seeing each other every day again, he wasn’t sure how he’d handle being alone. (He even picked up a habit of flossing just so he had another excuse to linger around her more as she did her makeup in the mornings.)

Before she left, he tucked little notes in the pockets of her suitcase and backpack, strategically hidden so she wouldn’t find them all at once. Once she was gone, he found himself texting her more than usual - just to check in - until she eventually had to tell him that no, she was not dead in a ditch somewhere just because she didn’t reply to his text within ten minutes.

At first he had fun with being alone in the apartment. He could do whatever he wanted and had some guy friends over, ordering pizza and played video games with the volume all the way up, kicking their feet up on the coffee table. But after a few days, he felt guilty that the dishes piled up in the sink and his shoes were left haphazardly by the door, so he made a point to tidy up - and proudly showed Charlie how clean the apartment was over Facetime that night.

He hated every bit of her being gone. He hated the empty side of the bed (so he slept with her pillow), he hated how quiet the apartment was, he even hated that the bathroom counter didn’t have her usual makeup and flat iron scattered across it. JJ had never been more excited to go home to the Outer Banks - not just to see the Pogues, but to see what he considered his second family too. He watched the football game at her parent’s house and had never been more excited to see her on the sidelines, even if it was only for a split second as the camera panned across.

When Charlie finally returned to Berkeley, JJ picked her up from the airport with a bouquet of flowers and the biggest grin on his face as she dropped her bags to jump into his arms. He hardly let her go a second without touching her, keeping his arm around her shoulders as they walked to the car and his hand on her thigh the whole ride home. He didn’t realize how much he missed her like hell until they were finally together again.

When they walked into the apartment together, he pulled her into another warm embrace, arms wrapped tightly around her and his face tucked into her hair. “My home is back.” He murmured.

She pulled back just enough to catch his lips in a kiss, grinning. “What do you mean? You’re in your home.”

He shook his head, grinning back. “It’s not home when you’re not in it.”

#don't mind me just being soft #jj maybank #jj maybank fanfic #jj maybank fanfiction #jj maybank imagine #jj x charlie #mine

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littlemessyjessi · 4 years

Text

How They’d Be As Mukbangers: Harry Potter Characters

How They'd Be As YouTube Mukbangers

James: Every video has a theme. Like, I'm not even playing. Holidays? All kinda of holiday themed food. Quidditch World Cup coming up? Things inspired by the country of his favorite team. Just a random day? Everything is blue. He's that type of way.

Sirius: If a mukbanger was a thirst trap. I could easily see him really getting into. Dark background, black gloves, aesthetic as fuck and like, he doesn't even talk. He just sits there, looks hot and somehow makes eating looking incredibly sexy. And he fucking knows it. Bitch also one hundred percent rolls his eyes back when it hits his taste buds. Licks his lips and his fingers. Takes way too big of bites. Most people would say it's cringy how sexual his videos are...but everyone is secret subscribed anyway. With notifications on.

Remus: This goes one of two ways. If he's in a good mood and things are chill, he'll find a recipe, make it to the mother fucking 't' and then have a little mukbang slash review on said recipe. Nice lil chat. Sweet tol bean. Precious. If it's near the full moon there ain't none of that. Ya boy, brings in his monstrous plate of food, sits it down and just tears into like a fucking beast, no talking. Just nom nom nom. Unintentionally thirst traps and people opening talk about when Remus goes beast mode.

Peter: Candy and sweets channel! Small mukbangs with reviews from different candies from Honeydukes!

Lily: Lol, Lilypad. She ain't playing around. Her videos are planned out, edited and just generally finessed to perfection. Even had music added to it with tiny vlog segments as it's set up. It's a little pretentious but she does have a good following.

Marlene: This bitch. Fucking competitive eating queen. Tiny ass lil ho can eat you under the table, bro. Think RainaIsCrazy on YouTube. She can fucking smash. Usually does eating challenges from different resteraunts and competitions. Often, challenges Remus on his wild days. He's a beast but she still wipes the floor with him.

Dorcas: The collab. Dorcas always has good food and good company. She's all about sharing a meal with someone and talking about random things.

Alice and Frank: The couple channel. It's generally filled with so much fucking cute and the food is always tasty. It's sickening they feed each other but you also can't help but awww.

Molly Prewett/Weasley: Family recipes. Molly's channel are tried and true recipes from the Prewett family. Cook with me and tons of kitchen life hacks. Also, that woman can turn a ham sandwhich into a full course meal. Bet. Always taste tested by Daddy Weasley. Yes, I said Daddy Weasley.

Lucius Malfoy: The most pretentious fucking channel to ever exist. It's a whole fucking production that admittedly he does put a lot of work into. Somewhat thirst trappy like Sirius' but instead of just having a plain black background he goes out of his way to shove as much of his manor into. Only eats the most expensive food fucking on the planet and of course, it's prepared by House elves cause he's a twit. (Yes, I know this is Thranduil but honestly wouldn’t put it past Lucius to be this fucking pretentious.)

Severus Snape: Actually pretty solid content. His exquisite skills in potions actually made him a rather good chef. Tasteful shots, edited well with music over everything and subtitles. Simply audio for the eat portion at the end. Nothing too fancy for the background. Often just a very clean kitchen. Solid content though.

The Black Sisters: Mass chaos. Part vlog, part drama channel, half the time the food never even gets finished because of fights.

Bill Weasley: The Traveler. A lot of egyptian food. Some made by hand. Some vlogs from street food while he's out just generally doing his job. Short videos but solid. He's hot and he picks good food. It works for him.

Charlie Weasley: This extra ass bitch. He's the bitch that does all that outdoor cooking. You know what I mean. Shots in the woods, roaring fire. Lit by a precious dragon child no doubt. Dragons lounging in the background like those bitches who always have their dogs there. Yes, I'm jealous. Close up shots of him cutting things on a custom wood cutting board. Everything he makes causes your mouth to water. God damn, scarred, freckle faced bastard just gobbles it up and ends every fucking video with a wink. Charlie Weasley is the ultimate thirst trap and he fucking knows it.

Percy: Percy's channel could be epic but instead is boring as fuck. Why? Because he insist on having the most snooze worthy meals that are 'sensible' and THEN he proceeds to talk about politics. He actually had a pretty decent following of other like minded individuals but my god- politics and porridge, Percy? Really?

However, once he chills the fuck out, leaves the ministry to do something else - it’s a game changer. Brings the family on for mukbangs. Does videos with mummy weasley. Percy grows his hair out and Bill teases him for being a copy cat. Much better. Still talks politics but it’s fucking hiliarous and now the food is poppin.

Fred and George: Alright, this shit right here. Every fucking bit of it is a self promo for the shop. Meals inspired by and that would go well paired with 'this product'. Like, that's the whole thing. And then they run an add for their shop at the end featuring the product. It works for them because they're smart, they're hot and they're also wildly entertaining with their constantly sibling squabbling. But yeah. Big promo for the shop.

Ron Weasley: Honestly, out of everyone. Ron probably has the most followers and it's because he doesn't say shit while he's eating. He sits down with a massive fucking turkey. Nods at the camera and just tears it up. It's literally so satisfying. All the food is prepared by his mother. So it's obviously fantastic. ( I just had to use this gif.)

Ginny: Gin's channel is usually team building videos with the Harpies. 'Cheat Day: Vlog and Mukbang w/the Harpies' type of vibes. It's cool though and since it's a famous quidditch team the fans enjoy the behind the scenes action and actually drop all kinds of recipes for them to try in the future.

Hermione: Hermione could easily veer off into Percy's channel of misery when she gets started on her rants but mostly they're really chill videos. Mukbang and Book Review type of vibe. Or sometimes even the playing of an audio book while she does her thing. All in all, wholesome.

Harry: Lol, I swear. Fucking awkward bean. Harry's videos are literally of him making the simplest of things and being so fucking awkward. "Er, well, hi guys. So I'm about to head out for work. Running a bit late. But we're having a bit of toast and jam." Like it's literally just little videos of him eating whatever throughout the day. But of course, since he's Harry Fucking Potter- his follower count is astronomical.

Neville: Now, this boy. This boy is a goblincore gobbo's wet dream. Gardening videos with homegrown veg. Recipes from Grandmother. Have a nice Veggie Pot Pie with Professor Longbottom in the Hogwarts Greenhouse. There is a fanbase and it is huge.

Luna: Honestly, the weirdest fucking channel in the world. Like she finds the weirdest things to eat and goes from there. But Luna is bae so it's cool. Also, a thousand percent does Smoke Sesh + Mukbang videos. You know it's true.

Dean and Seamus: Literally, eating in the most crowded pubs as they visit football games around the country. Seamus will definitely pull the Irish card from time to time to have a drinking competition. He wins everytime. He may be a little dude but shit- homie can hold his own.

Cedric: Honestly, it's so fucking pure. Straight up did videos during his time at Hogwarts in the Hogwarts kitchen. Such kind little conversations with the house elves. "Hey, guys. Thanks for coming back to another video. Today we're making some really tasty biscuits. Whispy, one of the talented bakers here in the kitchens, is here to help us today so please say hello to her in the comments." He'll also always make extra and leave them in the Hufflepuff common room for everyone to enjoy. Like, it's honestly so pure and he's such a soft boi and oh my fucking geeeeeeerrrrrrdddd!!!!!

Draco: Actually takes it really seriously and put a lot of hard work into it. Nothing like his father's ego-tistical recipes. Surprisingly, every. single. recipe. is a muggle recipe. How would he know? Because he cross referenced with Granger of course. Cooks it himself. No magic. Lots of random talks. Just like a monologue of things and it gets kinda deep sometimes. Like, it's the channel to go to when you need advice that you didn't even know that you needed. Still eats incredibly proper. It's that pureblood raising of his. Old habits die hard.

Tonks: Pure chaos. "Hey, today we're having Mum's homemade lasagna and I'm also getting a new tattoo. Might dye my hair. Don't really need to since I can do this but whatever. So yeah, there's that. Like it's just all over the place and you'd think it would take but the chaos is too good not to watch. Literally gives herself beaks and snouts while she eats. It's iconic.

Dumbledore: Mother fucker just sits at his desk, stares straight into the camera and eats a lemon drop. Like a weirdo. The video usually no more than a minute and each video is just some variation of that. Meme lord.

Hagrid: Tea With Hagrid. Also, so the recipes suck, they too, but Hagrid is a peach and it's relaxing to see his gentle half giant there in his hut, pumpkin patch out the window and Fang laying by the fire. It's a mood and he's just like the comforting Dad figure.

McGonagall: Honestly the best one in the entire world. She makes a full course traditional Scottish breakfast... and then transforms into her animagus the cat...and promptly knocks it off the table. A fucking legend.

------------------------------

Please attack the ask box!

Love, Kenny

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Love, Kenny

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nerdzzone · 4 years

Text

Light After Dark: Chapter Eleven

Summary: Brooke Harris was trying her best to be grateful. As the world tackled the COVID-19 pandemic, she was healthy and safe and so was the rest of her family, but her dreams had very quickly been crushed by the economic fallout. Trapped on the quaint island of Jersey with nothing, but free time to wallow in her mistakes, Brooke’s mental health was taking a hit, but when she collides with a handsome stranger she starts to realize that the future might not be so bleak and there might still be a light at the end of the tunnel.

Pairing: Henry Cavill x OFC

______________

June. 14. 2020

Henry: Are you busy this evening?

Me: I'm never busy these days

Henry: That's not true. Sometimes you have plans with your family

Me: Fair point, but only because I never have a better offer 😉

Henry: Well, would you be interested in joining me for dinner tonight?

Me: Absolutely 😊

Henry: Great, I'll pick you up at six!

A quick glance at the clock told me that it was almost four now so I dragged myself off the couch and headed to the bathroom to shower and get myself date ready.

****

I walked into the kitchen at about quarter to six where Molly was doing some homework and Cassie was starting on dinner.

"Where are mum and dad?"

Cassie glanced up from the pot she was stirring.

"Just at the shop, picking up a few things we're low on," She informed me. "You look nice, any plans?"

The children took no time at all to rat us out at the party. It took less than fifteen minutes for one of them to spill the beans and force us into an awkward explanation in front of the group. The general consensus was that everyone was pleased for us though and it was nice to not have to hide anything.

"I'm going for dinner with Henry," I admitted. "He's picking me up in a few minutes."

"Ooh, very nice," She grinned. "Where are you going?"

"I don't know. Hopefully not a restaurant, I don't really feel comfortable with that yet even though I'm sure they're all taking precautions. I'll probably suggest we get takeaway and eat in the car or something."

"In the car?" Cassie laughed. "Surely on an island like this you could find somewhere more romantic than his car!"

"That's true," I smiled. "Anyway, I don't know what he has planned so we'll have to wait and see."

"Well, I'm very happy for you, Brooke."

I wrinkled my nose despite the smile on my face.

"Not necessarily much to be happy for at the moment, we're just....friends that kiss."

"Oh please," She rolled her eyes. "You're a couple. He's your boyfriend. You two just don't want to admit it."

I was about to argue, but my phone buzzed in my hand and a quick glance told me that it was Henry and he was outside.

"I have to go," I told her. "But he's not my boyfriend so don't go spreading any rumours."

"Oops, I already called TMZ."

I stuck out my tongue as she laughed at her own joke before grabbing my purse and heading for the door.

As soon as I got outside, my jaw dropped. The car sitting in our driveway probably cost more than my parent's house or at least came pretty close. He had the window rolled down and resting his elbow on the frame, leaning out with his sunglasses on in a way that was effortlessly sexy.

"Is this your car?!" I asked, still shocked by the sight.

"No, I stole it," He smirked. "Of course it's mine."

"Oh hush," I rolled my eyes. "It could belong to your dad or something."

"To be honest, it may as well. I can't take it off Jersey so he drives it more than I do."

A sly grin onto my face.

"Can I drive it?"

Henry chuckled, but shook his head.

"Nice try, but no."

"Why not?"

"Do you even have a license?"

I scoffed indignantly.

"Of course I do," I informed him. "I'm a great driver."

"I'm sure you are," He smirked. "But this isn't just any car."

I rolled my eyes, but relented.

"Alright, fine. If I'm not special enough to drive your car then I understand."

I pouted dramatically, but again, Henry just chuckled.

"Get in," He nodded his head to the passenger side. "And maybe I'll let you drive on the way home."

"Yay!" I squealed, clapping my hands as I hurried around the front of the car and got in. "Does it go really fast?"

Henry shot me a look as he reversed off the driveway.

"Questions like that will turn that maybe into a firm no."

"Fine, fine," I held up my hands in defeat. "I'll be careful. It is a great car though."

"I bought it with my first big pay cheque," He grinned proudly. "I was looking at something a little more reasonable, but my dad thought I should splash out and treat myself."

"He probably knew he'd be the one driving it most of the time," I smiled, earning a chuckle and a nod from Henry.

"You are probably right," He admitted. "So, would you like to know the plan for the evening?"

"Absolutely," I shifted slightly in my seat so I was facing him a bit more. "We're not going to a restaurant, are we? I don't want to ruin your plans, but I don't feel super comfortable with that yet."

"No, no restaurant," Henry assured me. "We're having a picnic."

"A picnic?" I smiled. "That's so romantic."

Henry glanced over quickly to shoot me a wink before turning his eyes back to the road.

"I do my best."

****

He drove us through the small little city down towards a beach, but not the same as the one we were at before. Most of the beach dwellers had gone home for the day as it was now getting into the evening so even though it was still warm and sunny, the beach wasn't at all crowded. Henry grabbed an authentic picnic basket and blanket from the boot of the car and slipped his hand in mine before leading us towards the sand. Once we'd found a nice little spot, he laid out the blanket and gestured for me to sit down.

"This is so cute," I gushed. "What a great idea!"

"I thought you might like it," He smiled, settling down next to me on the blanket. "It's safer than going out to eat and gives us more privacy than using either of our gardens."

"Oh god," I rolled my eyes. "My family would be spying out the window the entire time. Cassie and my mum have barely stopped talking about us since your family left the other day."

Henry laughed, shaking his head.

"My family have been a bit more subtle," He informed me. "But I did get a call from Charlie this morning asking about you so the news has obviously made it's way around already."

"And what did you tell him?"

I wasn't going to press the issue and make him tell me the details of a private conversation, but curiosity got the best of me and I couldn't help but ask.

"Oh, you know," Henry shrugged. "I told him that you're a baker and you make me delicious things to eat so I'm letting you hang around for now. And, of course, that you're hot so that's a bonus too."

I pulled a face and swatted his leg.

"You're so rude!"

"I'm kidding," He chuckled despite the pout that slid onto my face. "I told him that you're talented, smart, funny and gorgeous and that you've been a wonderful ray of sunshine to brighten my little lockdown life."

“Wow," I smiled, my cheeks burning from the unexpected compliments. "That's actually really sweet."

I could have sworn Henry's own cheeks looked a shade redder, but he simply shrugged.

"It's all true."

"Well, I don't want to get too cheesy, but I feel the same," I admitted. "I was feeling pretty hopeless when I first got here, but you've made my time here much more enjoyable than I anticipated it would be."

"I'm glad I could help," He smiled as I leaned against his shoulder.

He wrapped his arm around me and pulled me close, using his hand to gently tilt my face towards his before pressing his lips against mine. It was a soft, sweet kiss and despite the fact that it still seemed very surreal that our relationship reached this point, my heart was ready to burst out of my chest. He was so tender for such a big, tough looking man and I appreciated the care and gentleness he showed in every romantic moment we'd shared so far.

I reluctantly pulled away as Henry's stomach growled rather loudly.

"Hungry, are you?" I giggled. "What did you make for dinner?"

"I didn't make it," He admitted, looking a little sheepish. "I picked it up from a local restaurant. I got a couple of sandwiches, crisps and fruit salad for dessert. They had cakes, but I thought it might ruin the mood if they're not up to your standard."

I leaned back, laughing as he unpacked the meal.

"It wouldn't have ruined the mood, I'm not a snob," I assured him. "It's nice to eat other people's baking sometimes, getting to reap the benefits without doing all the work."

"I'll remember that for next time," He smiled. "But I didn't want to chance it on our first date."

An ear to ear grin slid onto my face at that comment.

"Is that what this is? Our first date?"

"Was that not clear?" Henry smirked at me and I shrugged as he handed me a can. "How about a toast to honour the occasion?"

I glanced down at the can and saw it was wine as he pulled out a beer for himself.

"To us," I smiled, cracking open the can. "To light growing in dark places."

"Very poetic," Henry teased, gently knocking his can against mine. "To us."

I sipped my drink before investigating the can a bit closer.

"Were they sold out of champagne?"

Henry chuckled as he passed me one of the sandwiches and a napkin.

"No, but I didn't want to get too carried away since I'll have to drive us home," He informed me. "Why? Do most of your first dates start with champagne?"

"Oh yes, definitely. In fact, I normally insist on it," I laughed, my words filled with sarcasm. Henry playfully rolled his eyes as I took a bite of my sandwich, swallowing before I elaborated. "I'm just kidding. Honestly, I haven't really dated in a long time."

Henry raised an eyebrow, looking unconvinced.

"No? I'm surprised you're not fighting men off left and right."

"Definitely not," I smiled, shaking my head. "But I don't really put myself out there to give them the chance. My last relationship ended a few years ago and I dated a little after that, but I find the whole process quite tedious."

"Well, I hope you haven't found it tedious with me!"

"No, no, of course not," I rushed to assure him. "But it was different with us. We met and just enjoyed spending time together until it became more. After my ex and I broke up a couple of years ago, I realized that these days it's mostly dating apps and going out with someone you've only seen a picture of and I just can't be bothered with that. It seems so awkward."

"Fair enough," Henry nodded. "Why did you and your ex break up? If you don't mind me asking."

"No, not at all," I smiled. "He's gay. He was raised in a super religious family so it took him a long time to come to terms with it so we were together for almost two years before he finally decided he couldn't hide it anymore."

"That must have been a shock.."

"It was," I admitted. "It was a pretty hard time, but we're still good friends now and I'm glad he's comfortable being who he really is. I was upset at the time, but after I calmed down I realized how hard it was for him. Besides, it wasn't like he didn't love me, he just loved me in a different way."

"That's very understanding of you," Henry observed. "A lot of people would probably be more resentful."

"Probably," I shrugged. "But he can't change who he is so there's no point in holding a grudge. What about you? Any vengeful exes I should be aware of?"

"No, none of them are vengeful," He laughed. "Most of my break-ups were pretty amicable. I actually worked with my most recent ex, Lucy, on the Witcher. She's a stunt woman so our paths have crossed a few times and there's no bad blood there."

"That's good," I smiled. "I think it's nice when people still get along after a split. Obviously you cared for that person at one point so I always think it's such a shame when relationships deteriorate to the point where you can't even stand to be in the same room as the other person."

"I agree," Henry nodded. "Fortunately, most people I've dated have shared that outlook. I wouldn't say that I'm friends with any of them, but I don't think many would cross the street to avoid me."

"Good," I sipped my wine. "I find men who leave a trail of broken hearts behind them very off putting. I'm too old to chase around after a player."

"A player?" Henry chuckled. "That sounds like something I no longer have the energy to be so we're on the same page there."

I was already fairly certain that was true. I hadn't seen much evidence of Henry playing games or stringing me along as was so common in dating these days from both men and woman, but it was always good to have a bit of reassurance. While some people shied away from discussing their previous relationships, I'd always found being open and honest about it prevented any conflict or surprises later on.

****

We continued talking chatting as we ate our dinner and had just settled on Henry's life growing up on the island as we finished.

"So," I started, turning to face him. "If we were here and none of this virus stuff was happening, what would be your favourite places that you would have to show me?"

"Hmm, that's a good question," Henry pondered. "I definitely would have taken you to that look out point we went to, but I also would have made sure we visited Durrell Zoo."

"Oh, is that the one you do charity work for?"

Henry smirked, shaking his head.

"You need to stop googling me."

"Hey!" I protested. "You told me that yourself!"

"Did I?" He didn't seem convinced, but it was the truth. "Well, yes, it is. They're a great organization, but I also have fond memories of going there when I was a boy so it's nice to share it with other people."

"That's really sweet," I smiled. "Is it your favourite place on the island?"

"It's definitely one of them," He nodded. "But I'd also take you there if it was open."

He pointed into the distance and I followed his finger with my gaze.

"Is that a castle?" I asked, shielding my eyes from the sun to get a better look.

"It is," He smiled. "Gorey Castle or lé Vièr Châté. It was built in 1212 and was used for the defence of the island. It's really interesting, there's lots of little towers and secret rooms. And just thinking that it's been there for over eight hundred years makes it quite an experience."

"That's really cool," I agreed. "So many people must have wandered through there over the years, even before it was just used as a historical monument."

"Exactly," Henry nodded. "It's fascinating! The stories those walls could tell if they could speak would be enthralling."

Henry's eyes shined with intrigue at the thought and I couldn't help, but smile at the sight.

"You like history, don't you?"

"I do," He admitted, looking somewhat sheepish. "I find it really interesting just thinking about everything that's happened and how it's created and shaped the world we know today."

"It is interesting," I agreed. "You must have loved working on the Tudors."

"I did!" Henry smiled. "I would love to do more period pieces if the opportunity arose. There's plenty of people whose stories deserve to be told."

"It's really cool that you're so passionate about it," I mused. "Not to be rude, but I don't think many people expect someone who looks like you to be interested in things that are sometimes considered to be nerdy or uncool. It's refreshing."

"People tell me that a lot," He chuckled. "But I am who I am. I love video games, fantasy novels and history. Just because I also enjoy staying in shape and exercising and because I have to look a certain way for some roles, that doesn't change."

"And it shouldn't," I insisted. "I think that people just always need to fit everyone into one specific box, but that isn't realistic. Nerds can be hot too."

Henry tossed his head back laughing before nodding in agreement.

"Yes, yes they can," He grinned, filling me with a kind of pride at being the one to make him look so happy. "Speaking of staying in shape, was yoga something that came naturally to you or have you just become more flexible over time?"

I tilted my head questioningly, wondering where his query came from until he pointed at my legs. At some point in our conversation I'd crossed my legs and then pulled my feet up on top of my knees. The stretch felt nice and I hadn't even thought that to some people it was an unusual way to sit.

"Oh, I definitely became more flexible over time," I informed him. "I was so stiff when I first started, I couldn't even touch my toes. It's amazing how fast your body adjusts though. Now the stretches that used to be quite a strain are just naturally comfortable."

"I really should try it," Henry sighed. "I may be strong, but I am not flexible."

My face lit up as I got an idea.

"Do you want to try it? I'm not a teacher or anything, but I could show you a few moves!"

Henry hesitated at first, but then nodded.

"Alright, yeah," He agreed. "Let's give it a go."

"Great!" I smiled, pushing myself up to my feet. "Why don't you watch me the first time and then do it with me after?"

"Sure," Henry agreed, looking amused by my enthusiasm.

"Okay, I'll keep it super simple."

I moved off the blanket and onto the sand, standing so he got a sideways view. I reached my arms up above my head, enjoying the stretch before slowly bringing my hands down to the sand in front of me letting my weight fall forward to stretch my back. After pausing there for a moment, I stretched back up once more before leaning back down and planting my hands in the sand. I stepped my feet back until I was in downward facing dog.

"Following along so far?"

I turned my head to the side as I rocked my feet back and forth a bit to see Henry's reaction.

"I am," He nodded with a smirk. "But I think I'd appreciate a different angle..."

I stuck my tongue out despite my cheeks reddening at his flirty observation and turned my attention back to what I was demonstrating.

I lifted my left leg up behind me before bringing it under my body and planting my foot between my hands. Once I had my balance, I raised up and lifted my hands above my head, holding for a moment before lowering down and repeating it on the other side. After that, I lowered from downward dog into plank and hopped my feet forward before standing.

"Ta-da!"

"Well done," Henry clapped, standing up. "You'll have to direct me as we go, I don't think I can remember it all."

"That's fine," I smiled as he came to stand next to me. "So start by stretching your arms up..."

I led him through the first part, only glancing over at him once we were in downward dog. I giggled at the sight.

"Your hamstrings are tight," I observed. "Ideally, your heels should be flat on the ground."

Henry looked down between his arms towards his feet.

"They're not that far off," He protested. "But what's next?"

I guided him through the rest of it which he, unsurprisingly, handled with ease. He smiled proudly as we landed back on our feet and my heart melted at the sight.

"Good job!" I praised. "Now, do you want to see my favourite part of a yoga practice?"

He eyed me suspiciously.

"Is it some super tricky move that I'll never be able to do?"

"No," I giggled. "It's probably the easiest."

I moved back to the blanket, lowered myself to the ground and laid flat on my back with my hands by my side. Henry watched for a moment.

"Is that it?"

"It is," I confirmed with a smile. "It's called Shavasana."

My eyes were closed, but I felt Henry lay down next to me and he slid his hand into mine as he did. I bit back a smile, relaxing as we stayed like that for at least a few minutes.

"It's very calming," Henry commented. "But I can think of a position that I would find more enjoyable..."

"You can?"

As soon as the question came out of my mouth, his hand slipped out of mine and I felt his body move until it was hovering over me. I let my eyes drift open then to see his smiling face just inches above my own. I sighed happily as I moved my hands from the blanket to wrap my arms around his broad shoulders.

"This is a better position..."

Henry simply smirked before lowering his head until our lips collided. My mind went blank in the most blissful way, it was like the world around us disappeared. The weight of his strong body above me was a new sensation and one that added to the thickening atmosphere around us. The way his back muscles tensed as my hands roamed over them, tracing them through his shirt as they fought to keep him steady above me and the way he moaned just slightly as I lightly nipped at his bottom lip was almost too much for me to handle. I let my hands weave into his hair as our tongues clashed, but as I lifted my leg, hooking it around his hip in a desperate attempt to get us even closer together, he pulled away, resting his forehead against mine.

"I'm sorry," He sighed, breathing heavily. "We have to stop."

I let my foot fall back against the blanket, my cheeks reddening as I realized how carried away I'd gotten and how it would look to anyone else on the beach.

"Sorry," I mumbled shyly. "I got a bit lost in the moment."

Henry chuckled and bent his head to peck my lips again before rolling over and sitting next to me.

"You don't need to be sorry," He assured me. "I thoroughly enjoyed every second, perhaps a bit too much, but if we kept going I'm not sure I'd have the willpower to stop and getting caught having sex on the beach would not be a good look for Superman..."

I couldn't help, but laugh at that as I sat up next to him.

"No, I imagine it wouldn't be," I agreed. "It wouldn't be a great look for me either really even though I'm sure no one would blame me for being powerless to resist you."

"I think it would be the other way around," He argued. "You're the irresistible one here."

"Hardly," I playfully rolled my eyes. "I've read the comments on your Instagram, they're much more juicy than the ones on mine."

"That's a good thing," Henry smiled. "Or I'd have to make some big romantic post about you to stake my claim."

"You have a claim, do you?" I raised an eyebrow. "I know you like history, but you don't need to go all caveman on me."

"Is that caveman behaviour? It's probably more something a knight would do."

"No, if you were a knight you would joust for me," I teased. "And that is something I wouldn't mind seeing."

"Well, I do have some skill on horseback," Henry admitted. "But jousting is a bit dangerous for my taste."

"Do you actually?" I asked, suddenly intrigued. "Know how to ride a horse, I mean."

"Of course!" Henry looked at me like I was crazy. "I rode one in the Witcher, did I not?"

"Sure," I shrugged. "But not for very long. I assumed they stuck you on a really tame one for just long enough to get the shot."

He laughed at that suggestion, but shook his head.

"No, I spent a lot of time bonding with that horse and I can ride very well," He insisted. "I can take you sometime if you're interested? I know the owner of one of the stables on the island quite well."

Excitement buzzed in my stomach at the thought. I'd always loved horses, but riding lessons were expensive and not in our budget when I was a child.

"That would be great!" I grinned. "I'd love to!"

"Perfect," Henry nodded. "I'll call them and see what I can sort out, but for now, I should get you home before you freeze."

I was hoping Henry hadn't notice the shivers that had been running through me since the loss of his body heat, but as the sun was starting to set my thin long sleeved shirt and shorts weren't cutting it. I reluctantly nodded and he rose to his feet before holding out his hand for me. Once the blanket was folded, he took my hand and we started off towards the car when I remembered what he'd said at the start of our date.

"Do I get to drive us home?!"

Henry looked nervous as his eyes flicked over to me.

"Do you promise to drive slowly and not scrape anything?"

"Of course," I smiled. "I promise to drive more carefully than ever before."

He gave it another moment of thought before sighing and handing me the keys. I cheered and practically dragged him back to the car as I ran towards it eagerly, thinking that this was probably the best date that I had ever been on.

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feverinfeveroutfic · 3 years

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chapter twenty-five: orion’s belt

a/n: i hope this one clears up any confusion from the last couple of chapters. if it’s any comfort at all, it kinda snuck up on me. 🤷🏻‍♀️ but i did what i could: this fic is all about the human condition, anyway.

“Happy birthday, Sam.” The words crept over her like the body of a snake.

It was the day after her birthday, but Cliff had finally showed up to her drawing class. The modeling for the first level had been canceled for a reason that neither Sam nor Marla had been told about, and Miss Estes told them it was because of money, but she never elaborated on anything further than that: she had hoped to see a little more of him before Christmas break, but she never could because of Metallica's new record. But the two of them put it behind them once Cliff himself showed up to their second tier drawing class, a class which included easels, perfect for that sort of drawing.

He had found a new free little spot in between the New Year and the first date of their tour. He called her the night before on her birthday to tell her about it.

“Consider it the first of my birthday gifts to you,” he told her, “my other one'll come—at some point. I can't remember. I didn't tell you about the modeling because it happened kind of at the last minute and then I just—kinda forgot about it. I also didn't know when it would come up again. That's why I didn't mention it once when we were at your parents' house.”

“It's okay—it happens,” she assured him. “I was just happy to see you when we spent Christmas together.”

He had strolled right into the middle of the room with a filmy little robe over his body. A stool stood there in the middle of the floor, right before her and Marla with their easels propped up before them. The latter had put on a thin white coat over her clothes even though it was with graphite instead of paints.

His light hair spread across his shoulders: he held onto the lapels of his robe as if they were about to get away from him.

“So do you think I can do it already?” he called out to Miss Estes.

“Well, I have to take roll call and then you can let the robe drop,” she replied from behind Sam and Marla. The former glanced over at the latter with a raise of her eyebrow; Marla nodded at her. It had snuck up on her and it also couldn't come to her at a better time. She needed to hide her love away under something like that smock, but she had nothing more than her little thin white sweat shirt. Just so long as she kept her arms close to her breasts, she hoped Cliff couldn't see her.

“Okay,” Miss Estes said from behind the two of them. “Now—for our first model for Drawing Two, we have Cliff here! First off, let me apologize for all the run around—” To which Cliff shook his head in reassurance. “—second, it's nice to know that we have someone so eager for doing it for us.”

Sam peered up at him while she kept her head bowed down; it was really happening.

“Eat all the cake, Sam,” Cliff mouthed at her.

“So, let it all hang out now,” Miss Estes continued, and he opened the lapels and at long last, Cliff revealed his bare body to Sam. His chest was toned and his stomach was flat. His hips had a nice little curve to it, and his thighs were slender but sinewy at the same time: his lower legs had a nice gentle but toned look to them. His large, narrow feet were bare. And then there was his skin: clear and soft looking from his better habits.

Sam brought her attention to his genitals, much larger than she had imagined in that room in the subway. She pursed her lips together as she picked up her pencil. To think they were so close to each other in her bed not even a couple of weeks ago, and yet they had no way of touching each other. They never touched each other once while they were at her parents' house and there was no explanation, either.

And right there she understood why, especially when he winked at her and took his seat on the stool.

Of course! Away from her parents! At least that was what went right through her mind right then as she gazed on at his body as if it was a true piece of art in and of itself. She brought the graphite to the paper and she scrawled out his hair first.

The crown of hair and then the square shape of his face. The narrow shape of his neck. His slender tailored shoulders. Then his body.

She closed her eyes for a few seconds as she thought about her struggles with shading the weeks before. With her eyes closed, she brought the side of the graphite down to the paper. She thought about the strange man in her dreams and the void upon his head. He gestured for her to come on closer to him and her pencil made its way over the paper.

Like he was guiding her. Leading her through the darkness on the backs of her eyelids.

Why didn't Cliff mention the cancellation the few months before? Why didn't Cliff do anything more for her over the Christmas break?

She opened her eyes and she beheld the sight of his hips and thighs within a mere few feet from her. So close and yet so far from her. She skimmed over the paper and the dark shading had made its way onto the curvature of his hips and thighs.

She stared on in between his hips and she let her hand do the talking, complete with the pencil. She ran the edge of the pencil over the spot in between his hips and thighs. That skin looked smooth and even delicate. She thought about how she felt him in that little closet in the subway.

Smooth and delicate, like a stick of butter. She noticed a slight crease on his waist, right under his belly button and over his hip. A crease left over from wearing a belt so much.

She made her way down to his legs. She paid no attention to everyone around her, not even Marla. Sam kept her pencil at an angle over the paper so the shading would be consistent; she pressed down a bit so it would be darker in comparison to her struggles from the previous term.

She dropped her gaze to his feet and his ankles. Nice, smooth curves. They were bare but tight and perfect.

She returned her attention to the paper before her and she gasped at the sight of the drawing.

“Whoa,” Marla breathed, and Sam looked over at her with her eyebrows raised.

“Amazes me, too,” she said.

“Wow, Sam,” Miss Estes declared from behind her. “You've come a long way since the fall.”

“I know!” Sam added as she peered over her shoulder at her.

“I'm eager to see,” Cliff told her; she signed her initials at the bottom of the page, right under his left foot. But he never did get to see it, even when he returned to Jon and Marsha's house for the evening and when he returned to the Bay Area.

A full two months had past by the time she heard another peep from him, and the whole entire time, she wished to show him that drawing: every time she looked at it, and she took her easel out of the rack on the side of the room, every day in class, she wished to show it to him. There was so much more she wanted to ask him because none of it made any sense to her, either.

In the two months following her twenty first birthday, Belinda was eager to serve her a cake courtesy of the baker down the street from where she and Marla both used to live down in Hell's Kitchen. She had spent the day with them as well as Frank and Charlie given she had no class that day, but that entire side of New York City had been slammed by a blizzard, and Marla hadn't received her grant money at that point, either.

“When it comes, I'll get you something nice,” she vowed as she left that evening. Sam told them she need not any more sweets given her jeans fit her a bit more snugly than before and her new hectic schedule didn't help matters as well: her otherwise slim waist filled out with a gentle curve over the course of those eight weeks. It also didn't help matters that Cliff ordered her a slice of cake from the bakery in Hell's Kitchen in honor of his twenty fourth birthday, and yet she took it regardless. It came from him, after all.

The weight crept onto her body, and she could feel it all the while: and her face slowly became rounder and fuller with each day. She put on her little sweat shirts and fitted tops and the fabric around her waist felt a little more tight: indeed, when she peered into the bathroom mirror, she made sight of a little more of a curvature to her body. She thought about Cliff and the way in which he touched her while they lay in her bed together.

She wished for a touch of his hand as she finished her slice of cake. She wondered if Joey could stomach a couple of slices for himself with a thought back to his birthday and the donuts he had eaten over Christmas break. So many sweets for each of themselves and it started to show upon her, especially when Belinda took a seat next to her with a plate of cake upon her lap.

“You're not fat,” Belinda assured her. “Just a little fluffy because of the winter time. In fact, you actually look better with some weight. Besides, if there's anyone who's getting chubby, it's me.” Indeed, she had a slight roundness to her face but to Sam, she just looked like good old Belinda.

“I dunno if I want to look like this when we go see Metallica, though,” Sam confessed with a shrug of her shoulders; she peered down at her waist as it gently poked out from over the band of her jeans.

“You look great, though,” Belinda insisted. “Like I said, you actually look a lot better with a bit of weight. I always thought you could use some weight, too. I always thought it always looked like you were starving.” Sam frowned at that, but it was a compliment nonetheless: she took it with a sigh and a bit of a nod as well.

“Did we get tickets for one of their shows, though?” she asked her.

“I dunno if we need tickets, to be quite frank,” Belinda admitted as she took another bite of cake, and Sam thought of Frank himself right then. “At least that's according to Marla.”

“Do you know where Marla is, though?”

“I think she could be downstairs with Frank right now. I saw her violet hair as I came up and brought the cake up here. It was courtesy of the two of us. The two of us and Charlie.”

“Charlie, too?”

“Yeah, he felt bad about the day of your birthday because it just snuck up on us and we couldn't find a cake, either. You know, it being the middle of January and everything.”

“Oh, absolutely.”

There was a gentle knock on the slightly ajar door.

“Come on in,” Sam called, and Marla poked her head in through the space there: the rich violet color was still very much intact from the winter months but Sam could make out the sight of her dark roots at the crown of her head.

“Hey, we were just talking about you,” Sam told her as she set her plate on the coffee table in front of them.

“And what better timing, too,” Marla said with a twinkle in her eye. “The five of us—you two, myself, Aurora, and Zelda—have been cordially invited to see Metallica and Anthrax both in upstate New York.”

“Where in upstate New York?” Belinda asked her as Sam stayed leaned forward in order to hide her body from Marla.

“Syracuse,” she replied, “either that or Rochester. Charlie has to check the dates first, but yeah—we're gonna do upstate New York for the bunch of us.”

“And Zelda's coming along, too,” Sam stated.

“She might see them in Providence with the Cherry Suicides, but—who knows, really?”

“Why exactly Syracuse?” Belinda asked her.

“We'll have to go on the weekend, though,” Marla pointed out, “'cause of school and whatnot. And the only dates they have around New York and Pennsylvania are in the middle of the next month. Yeah, they can't do it for spring break coming up here. We'll bounce up the road to the Syracuse on Friday for the show on Sunday and then we'll come home on Monday. We'll have to miss class. They are gonna be here in the Big Apple in—August, I think? But I dunno if Anthrax are going to be with them, though. I'm just going by what Charlie told me so far.”

“I dunno if I can wait 'til August, though,” said Sam with a shrug of her shoulders. “You know, my whole thing with Cliff and whatnot.”

“Right, right, right! Okay, so Syracuse it is. We'll have to miss class, probably.”

“The two of you might,” Belinda pointed out, “I'm just gonna be an aide for Mondays this spring.”

“We'll be taking glass together,” Marla announced with a glance over to Sam.

“Yes, we are!” she added. “I'm taking another drawing class plus sculpting.”

“Oh, boy!” Belinda clapped her hands together. “All kinds of extra physical arts. I hope I can get to aide for the two of youses.”

Sam then turned her head back to Marla.

“Care for a slice of cake?”

“Please!”

It would be another week before Metallica and Anthrax embarked on their tour together, and it was right in the midst of spring break no less. The official first day after was when Sam and Marla resorted to Belinda for advice on stained glass and the approach to the material and the class itself. Two months Sam couldn't ask Cliff of anything more, and she couldn't show him the drawing, either.

Belinda had brought them back to her bright but small studio apartment in Hell's Kitchen: a table stood on one side of the kitchen, one which she referred to as her “handy lady table” given the tools strewn upon it and the sheets of glass tucked behind the legs to protect them from the outside world. She demonstrated on how to cut glass on a spare little piece: she explained on how she didn't want to do it on her good textured glass.

“I'm gonna make a slit here,” Belinda started. “A little slit and then this little orb here—” She showed them the glass cutter, which had a small blade on one end and a metal ball on the other; “—on the back of the cutter will make it so it doesn't cut so much.”

“A little slit?” Sam asked her.

“A little slit. Make you look right at it.” Belinda had a smirk on her face when she said that.

“I'm gonna look right up a slit,” Marla joked.

“I'm gonna look right up your slit, Marla,” Sam chimed in, and Belinda burst out laughing. She brought her attention back to the glass and she kept on thinking about Cliff and that drawing back in her class. She hoped she could fetch it out of the hiding place in the class by the time her third level drawing class started that Monday. She could fetch it out for him. She could take it backstage with her and she could show it to him when she found the chance.

Indeed, she had thought about it so much that she could hardly pay any attention to Belinda's commentary and demonstration of the glass. She even had to step outside to the cool spring rain so she could clear her head. She peered up to the gray sky and she felt something cool on her waist: the thin black fabric of her sweat shirt rode up a little bit on her body. She tugged it down over her filled out waist.

“I gotta lose weight,” she muttered to herself. She thought of Cliff and the way in which he looked at her from that stool. Naked and exposed on a stool.

“Sam!”

She glanced down to the sidewalk and the sight of Joey's crown of black curls.

“Hey!” she called out to him, and he held up two big brown paper bags. “What you got there?”

“Big bowls of pho!” he replied as his voice echoed over the sidewalk and the apartment buildings around them. She awaited for him at the top of the stairs and he made his way up with a smile on his face.

“Good thing it's pho,” she said even though she kept her body close to the balcony.

“Pho is good.” And then he hesitated. “But why, though?”

“I'm trying to lose weight,” she told him.

“Why?” asked Joey as he knitted his eyebrows together. “You look great. You look healthy. Real healthy, and a little round, and full—how a girl should look.”

“You think so?”

“Yeah. Move on out and show me your body.”

She sighed through her nose and she turned to her side. She showed him the slightly full shape on her waist and the widened shape of her hips.

“You have a ways to go before you're considered fat,” he confessed. “A long, long ways to go. You look gorgeous, actually.”

She gasped at that. Cliff didn't even call her gorgeous, but he did remark on her shape. She could find the beauty of those two boys, and yet she couldn't see it with herself.

“Now, c'mon in—I wanna give you ladies something before we leave for Kansas City tomorrow.”

She couldn't ask Joey about anything that involved with Cliff but she needed to ask something, however. It started to itch, the need to ask him about the feeling at her parents' house and why he never made note of it one time to her in that time. Maybe it was because they were at her parents' house and they had no way out of it. Maybe that was really why he spat at her when she made that joke.

Maybe that was the driving force behind their argument. All the questions and all the possibilities made their way through her mind as she ate up her bowl of beef pho.

She thought about bringing up the idea of a full body drawing to Joey again as well at one point, but it slipped from her mind when Belinda gave another demonstration with the glass.

Maybe it was the lack of genuine touching paired with the intensive school work, but Sam could not recall a time in which she felt more distracted and in over her head. What she felt to be important took a back seat to everything else. All the things she had to remember for her classes as well as her own artistry, and as a result, Cliff fell by the wayside. She handed in the full body drawing as well as her other projects over the course of the winter to Miss Estes for a grade and she was on her way to the higher levels for herself. And yet, something still didn't add up to her. It all seemed to sneak up on her, from her realization that Cliff never touched her in her bedroom to their fight to his trust issues with her.

She remembered what he had said about himself and Lars, how they began to drift apart prior to the making of their new album, and it made her uneasy to think about. She needed to talk to him when she saw him again. No phone call: it had to be done in person.

There was the date in Syracuse, or in Rochester. The one chance she had to ask him about it before they left for the rest of the country followed by Europe. Months and months without seeing him again. Such was the life of a metal bassist's girlfriend.

Indeed, when that Friday came along, and she, Marla, Belinda, and Zelda piled into Aurora's car and they made the four hour drive up to Syracuse, she wondered as to how she could phrase it out to him. They were going to be backstage with all of them, with James, Lars, Kirk, and Cliff, as well as Joey, Frank, Scott, Dan, and Charlie, even if it wasn't for long. Even if it was only for a few moments.

There was always New York City later that summer. But her questions might have become water under the bridge at that point. Sam had to relish every minute she had with Cliff there in Syracuse.

Given Metallica had ramped up their way in the music world, and they were hot on the heels of their new record, security had tightened quite a bit on the venue. Add to this, both bands had a show down in Pennsylvania that Saturday and so they never showed up to Syracuse until three in the afternoon. Marla called Charlie from the hotel and he replied from the phone on Metallica's bus, and the second she told the four of them that they were an hour outside of town, Sam and Aurora darted out of the hotel room together, much to Zelda's amusement.

The very second she recognized Cliff on the sidewalk behind the arena, Sam almost climbed out of the front seat of Aurora's car while it was still moving. But once they parked right behind the bus, she hurried up the sidewalk with her hand upon the strap of her purse.

“Cliff!” Her voice echoed over the street. He turned around with a puzzled expression on his face, but then he recognized her and his face lit up.

“There's my girl!” he declared, which brought a laugh out of Kirk, who stood right behind him with his guitar case slung over his shoulder. Sam opened her arms for him and they embraced one another right there before Metallica's bus. Cliff shoved his tongue down her throat: the fuzz over his upper lip grazed onto her skin.

He then held back and he set his hat upon her head.

“I'm so glad you could make it,” he told her; out of the corner of her eye, Marla and Zelda climbed out Aurora's car with smiles on their faces. “I'm so glad you girls all could make it!”

“This is driving me nuts,” she started in a low voice, but she was cut off by James and Lars laughing about something right behind them. Marla and Zelda joined them, followed by Aurora, who proceeded to talk to one of the guards near the back door. Cliff guided her away from the bus, into the bushes.

“Well, something is driving me nuts,” he retorted to her.

“What's that?” She brought her gaze to his hips, at the sight of the shiny silvery belt, complete with studs made from old bullet casings. So fierce and fiery, and yet she knew the truth about him. She had seen the real him, underneath those clothes and underneath those bullets. She had seen the real him for herself on a sheet of paper as well as the backs of her eyelids.

“It's how you never showed that drawing to me yet.”

“Oh, you mean the full body drawing I made for my class?”

“Yeah.”

“I just haven't been able to get it out of there and towards you,” she confessed. “You being on tour and me being in class. By the way—is there a reason why you never touched me at my parents' house? Like, right before we got into that fight. You touched me a little bit, but that was about it.”

“'Cause we were at your parents' house,” he replied, “it was also why I didn't touch you when we met my family, either. Also—don't take this the wrong way—maybe that's why you're also gaining weight.”

“Gaining weight means there's been no touching,” she muttered.

“Although—but understand, I think you look amazing, even when I haven't been able to touch you and you haven't been able to see me, either. Absolutely amazing. You can rock curves so well. Come here—” He held her close to him again.

“I don't want us to drift apart,” she confessed to him.

“We won't,” he promised her. “We'll always be close. You, my parents, and my sister are all I have.” He held back for a better look into her face.

“Are you serious?”

“Dead serious. I feel like I'm slipping away with them. I have a bad feeling about this tour, too—like James and Kirk are gonna force me to lay it down on Lars at some point.”

“But James and Lars were laughing just then.”

“Don't let it fool you,” he told her. “If we lose Lars, I'm out, too. I can't deal with that.”

“What would you do?”

“Be with you,” he said in a low voice.

“Are you sure?”

“Positive. There's no way I can do this long distance thing, Sam. I have to be with you. I need to be with you!”

“Do—they even know about me?” she asked with a gesture to the bus.

“They do. I tried to hide it but I had to tell them about it. It only made sense to talk about it. It was the only way I could be heard to them anymore...” His voice trailed off, and Sam began to wonder if their argument about trust was at all warranted given she told Joey about the two of them.

“Hey, Cliff!” James called out, and he turned his head in the other direction, where he and Aurora both awaited the two of them.

“I have to go,” Cliff said to her. “I think Aurora got you guys into the best seats in the house, too.”

Sam sighed through her nose again as he leaned in for another kiss on her lips. That time he tasted sweeter than ever. She had finally seen him for herself, and right in front of her classmates as well. Right in front of Marla as well. And no one knew about it!

She was about to hand him back his hat but he waved her off.

“Keep it,” he said to her in a low voice, and they both bowed out of the bushes. They walked side by side but they never held hands or touched each other, lest James or Aurora see them.

“I hope we can see you again,” she told him.

“New York, baby,” he whispered to her with a lean closer to her ear. “We're gonna be in the Big Apple in the middle of August.”

“That hat looks cute on you, Sam,” Aurora remarked as they came in earshot.

“Looks better on her, doesn't it?” Cliff told her, and James gestured for him to follow him into the arena. Once the two men ducked inside, Aurora turned her attention to Sam.

“What were you guys doing right there, anyway?” she asked her in a low voice.

“I—needed to ask him about something,” Sam replied, given Aurora was still in the dark about her and Cliff as far as knew. “It's nothing important.”

Aurora showed her a thoughtful smile and then she guided her into the cool, quiet side of the arena. Within time, that place was going to be packed full of people. It was going to be even louder than she could imagine compared to that night she and her parents saw them in San Francisco. The whole feeling before hand was enough to launch her into space.

#fanfic #fanfiction #metallica fanfic #metallica #chapter 25 #fever in fever out #fever in fever out fanfic #cliff burton #cliff burton x oc #deadly nightshade #book two #m/f romance #romance #young romance #also on ao3 #writing #text

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saramoonlightglitter · 3 years

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Strawberry Sponge Cake With Cherry on Top

Background: Janet is getting old. She has dementia and feels completely lost at times. In this snippet, we see her baking a cake for her kids. She can’t remember much but will that stop her from baking the perfectly moist sponge cake with sweet cherries on top?

Janet stole a few glances at the clock before rechecking the temperature of her oven. She was hyperventilating over the cake that was still in the process of baking. What if it wasn’t moist enough? What if the top layer turned out to be a little too crunchy? No, she wouldn’t think of the million things that could go wrong! She was an exceptional baker, and this strawberry sponge cake would be another of her mouth-watering creations! Little Harry used to gorge on cakes and make such a mess! Oh, he’ll love the overly-sweetened cherry on top, she thought. But should she serve him in that big bowl? Now, what cartoon was it that was painted on the red bowl? Harry is so addicted to those cartoons, she recalled fondly, always glued to the television.

Anyway, it didn’t matter. Marlyn wouldn’t let him near the TV. She has always got to watch the same sitcom, which never seems to end. No, Janet shook her head. I need to think about Harry and his bowl. He will throw a hissy fit if he doesn’t see that bowl. What else can you expect from a little boy? But he wasn’t so little now, was he? The last time he came… what did he say he was doing? Janet simply couldn’t remember. Children grow up so fast! Only the other day, she saw Marlyn get dressed for prom. Who did she say she was going with? Charlie, it had to be Charlie.

Eager to brush off the thoughts, she focused on the cake with renewed enthusiasm. It was better to attend to the delicious dessert than to remind herself of the fading memories. She would lie awake in bed all night, desperately trying to remember. But her mind always refused to cooperate. Oh, it wasn’t Charlie. How silly of me. Lovely Marlyn would never go out with him. Daniel! It was Daniel, the athletic mechanic. The girls in town couldn’t wait for their turn with him. But he’d always had eyes for my Marlyn; Janet smiled.

The cake was almost at its prime. Janet was still tentative about taking it out of the oven. The downside of being a perfectionist was this feeling of inadequacy. Randy used to lose his temper every time Janet took too long to prepare his meals. Oh, poor Randy. She hadn’t been to his resting place in God knows how long. It was the accident, wasn’t it? He’d been so awfully sick. Although she didn’t like to admit it to her kids, she missed her husband. She would imagine him standing beside her, giving her an earful. But Janet couldn’t quite recall his face. He wore those thick-rimmed glasses! No wonder she never looked into his eyes.

Ding! Was it the doorbell? Randy wasn’t due until seven. Randy? Jesus! What was she thinking! Frustratedly limping towards the door, Janet swore at herself. Why was her brain always this jumbled-up collection of memories? She was expecting to see her kids, not her long-dead husband. But there was no one at the door. The cake! She sighed and traced her way back to the kitchen. Ding! The oven made the familiar noise one more time. Taking out the cake, Janet grinned. It was just the way she wanted.

What would go well with the cake? She rummaged through her kitchen cabinets and refrigerator, hoping to find the best accompaniment. No, nothing there. Well, the children would have to settle for the cake alone. They would probably be full-up, anyway. They must’ve already had a ton of snacks at the movies. Janet wondered how awkward little Harry must feel in the company of his sister and her friends. But Charlie could always make the boy laugh. Or, Daniel, was it?

Suddenly, Janet remembered she had forgotten to read her Bible that day. Deciding that she was too tired, she said a quick prayer and promised to read it at night. Connie was so particular about Bible study. Would Connie come by later that evening? Janet would be bored after the kids left. Connie was good company even though she insisted on eating healthy and playing cards. Janet had never been one to eat salad or play bridge. Never mind, she was a good friend.

Moving with difficulty, Janet set the table. The cake was at the center. It was beautiful! I’ve got to find the bowl and a packet of chips; Janet muttered. Little Harry never liked sharing with his sister. But then again, he wasn’t perhaps so little anymore. What was it that Harry did? He was a mechanic, wasn’t he? Silly me; she reproached. Daniel was the mechanic. Harry said he would be reading some paper. Good thing the boy had a reading habit. It’d do him good. Not able to strain her legs any longer, Janet sat down with a thud. She fixed her eyes on the cake again. It was missing something. The cherries! She had planned to decorate it with a bunch of cherries. Little… Harry loved cherries.

I know I have some in the kitchen, she convinced herself and rose to her feet. Why did her feet hurt so much? She must remember to ask Randy for the medicine. He was good with medical matters. But where was Randy? She hadn’t seen him in quite a while. Find the cherries, girl! She scolded herself and started to walk in the direction of the kitchen. Only she was headed the wrong way.

“Mom!” someone shouted from behind, making Janet jump in her skin.

“Marlyn? Where’s Daniel? He likes strawberry shortcakes, rights? I forgot the cherries, but it’s still yummy,” Janet said excitedly.

“What’re you talking about? Who’s Daniel?” Marlyn sighed. She seemed exasperated. “Rob couldn’t make it. Remember Rob? My husband? Anyway, Harry’s here. He’s parking up.”

“Parking up? Don’t tell me you let the boy drive!” Janet frowned. “It’s a pity I couldn’t find his cartoon bowl. I’ll get him some chips.”

“I can’t right now, Mom,” Marlyn said. She was at the point of tears. “We’re here to take you to the nursing home. I know you’ve forgotten the plan. But do me a favor and be quiet, will you?”

“Don’t worry about my feet,” Janet laughed. “Randy will take care of it. I don’t need to go anywhere to get it cured.”

Janet was about to respond when Harry stormed in. He ranted about some problem with the car and prompted Marlyn to wrap up matters. They needed to leave immediately.

“But the cake?” Janet asked, looking at her kids pleadingly.

“You can’t bake now, Mom,” Harry said. His tone suggested he was talking to someone who wouldn’t understand simple instructions. “I don’t want to sit here and eat a salty cake, pretending it’s amazing.”

“That was just the one time, Harry,” Janet insisted. “This one’s perfect. You’ll love it!”

“We’ve got no time for it,” Marlyn agreed with her brother.

They packed up Janet’s belongings. Not that she would require much at the nursing home. Ten minutes later, they were on their way. The cake still sat proudly on the table. There was nothing wrong with it. It had the right amount of cake mix, the right amount of sugar, and an extra bit of love. Even with her mind all over the place, Janet had baked a perfect cake. Sitting uncomfortably in the car, she still regretted not having those cherries. Maybe if she’d found those, Harry would have feasted on her delectable dessert.

#writing #me writing #short fiction #story prompt #short story #psychology #dementia #creative writing #blog

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nonsensicalobsessions · 4 years

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Tom & the Cookie Monster Take 2

Author’s note: @villainousshakespeare , this idea came and hit me like a brick. Hopefully it did not leave any lasting damage, nor will it give you any by reading it. Anyway, you requested: “May I please have a Tom himself fic (since you are so good at those!) maybe something set during the Broadway run of Betrayal?“ I do not know if this will live up to your praise, as this is but a shortie, but I hope you enjoy, here is your promised prompt, my dearest friend:

Two male Hiddlestons made their way through the hallway towards their apartment door. One was prancing, sprightly and happy. The other was proceeding at a trudge.

Tom was tired, and he had every reason to be. It was Saturday night, which meant there had been the matinee production, as well as the evening show of Betrayal. And while the show was going extremely well, the pace was still grueling some days.

Like today. And yesterday’s. And last week’s...

He rifled through his keys, snickering as he remembered how one fan he spoke to was under the assumption he was living in a penthouse apartment on Fifth Avenue. Erm, no. He had quite a nice furnished flat, in a secure building where he did not have to be concerned any random fan could interrupt his rare moments of private life, but it was simply a nice flat. And at the moment, one of his neighbors was evidently baking biscuits, and his stomach growled.

And not just any biscuits, but chocolate chip biscuits. Damn it. Now he was hungry, and even though he knew of at least half a dozen places that would deliver even at this hour, he was tired, and didn’t feel like interacting with anyone. He wished to take his public face off, just as he had removed his stage make up a couple of hours ago, but then went and spent the time afterwards doing stage door appearances for his fans. Which he loved doing. But now, he just felt drained.

As he found the right key, Bobby was sitting at the door obediently, but Tom could see the dog was all but vibrating to be let in. “Bob, what is it, man?” As Tom unlocked the door, Bobby let out a joyous bark and sped in so rapidly Tom was grateful he had dropped the lead, or his shoulder would have suffered a hell of a jerk.

Tom walked in, his eyes bouncing quickly, dropping his bag and pulling out his phone in a reflexive action. While he had never had a fan break into any of his digs, it had happened to several of his friends, and his fingers were already preparing to call security, even as he recognized the smell of biscuits was even stronger now.

Apparently whomever Bobby had run to greet had baked for him. Which was a pretty decent thing to do, stalker-behavior aside.

“You forgot I was coming tonight, didn’t you?” The familiar female voice was amused, as her yet-to-be-seen form was bent over in the kitchen, acknowledging Bobby’s slavish adoration.

Oh, shit. He had.

He dropped his keys in the small dish she had given him to keep his keys when she learned he kept misplacing them.

“How much trouble am I in?” Even his voice was dull.

“Oh, honestly, Tom.” An arm came up from behind him, hugging his waist and brandishing a freshly baked treat, so fresh it was being held in a napkin. “If you’re so tired that you can’t even remember having given your extra key to someone for just this purpose, I think that speaks more to exhaustion than culpability. Have a cookie, Cookie. I made them just like the recipe printed on the bag, so I can’t have messed it up too badly...”

Then another hand snaked around his waist, this one bearing the body and face of none other than the Cookie Monster, who proceeded to menace the other hand’s bounty. “Delayed gratification, Hiddleston!!” Now the female voice behind him was growly and raspy. “No cookies for you, you must practice the art of...”

“Oh, fuck that,” quoth Tom, grabbing the napkin and spinning around to the laughing face of his baker-cum-stalker. “Get the hell away from my biscuits, Cookie Monster, and take your delayed gratification and get stuffed...”

“It’s a puppet, darling, I don’t think they can get stuffed...”

“No, but they can get a fist right up their...”

“Shut up, Tom, and eat your cookie! I am shocked, shocked and appalled by your uncouth behavior...” laughed Sabrina Wright, who was clearly neither shocked nor appalled.

Tom met Sabrina three months ago, when he did an impromptu visit at a children’s hospital as Loki, complete with costume. The entire event was kept under wraps and unpublicized, as it wasn’t sponsored by anyone. Chris Evans had come to the area to visit a friend who was facing surgery, and between him, Charlie Cox, and Tom, they hatched the idea. Then at the last minute, Brie Larson found out about the plan and came along as well.

The children were ecstatic and a “Marvelous time was had by all” as Tom kept saying later, much to everyone’s general disgust as they kept throwing things at him at his apartment...but Tom had noticed that while everyone, children, parents, siblings, and staff were excited and clamoring to be involved in the fun, there were a few patients that were just too ill to participate, and he and his friends made a point to leave some things aside for those kids to have, and to see if there was anything they could do for them once the furor calmed down.

There was one nurse that never joined in the carefully controlled chaos, but went about caring for, and ultimately consoling, the ones who wished to play but couldn’t, or were too ill to notice, or care. Tom saw her picking one child up, and simply rocking him in her arms in a rocking chair for awhile, rubbing his back, and apparently singing to him. He made a mental note to say hello to her as well. He knew there was always someone that had to stay behind and work when everyone was enjoying these kinds of parties, and he wanted to let her know he saw and was touched by the work she was doing with so much heart.

Once the brouhaha and the dust settled, Loki stepped aside, found Nurse Sabrina, and asked if the other children would be interested in seeing the Marvel crew, and she grimaced.

“It’s very kind of you to inquire, uh, Loki, if you and your...cohort would like to perhaps wave at the children from the doorway if they are awake, that would be fine, but that is the most I can allow. They really are quite sick.”

Chris stepped up. “Is it all right if we leave them some signed posters and things like that?”

“Cap, I know that would make them very happy, even if we have to put them up outside of their rooms, looking in...!”

Loki looked into the room where he had seen the little boy Sabrina had rocked. He seemed so frail... “Erm, that little boy...will he be alright?”

Sabrina’s face buttoned up. “I’m afraid I cannot comment on his prognosis, Loki. I will say...I wish you had healing powers. For all of these children, obviously...but especially for him. He was so distressed he could not come out and see you, in particular. He thinks you are, ah, badass. I do not bother correcting his more colorful speech. It’s not relevant.”

“I see. Is he awake?”

“Yes, he is, but I cannot allow you to go in...”

“I understand...tell this young Midgardian to expect a visit in a few minutes...”

One of the giveaway items they had was a small t shirt, which Tom had signed by both characters and actors, and then proceeded to his room.

Small Tim Curran was wondering why Nurse Sabrina had come in, and insisted that she comb his hair, and wash his face...and then...

“Midgardian.”

“Holy sh...smokes,” the little boy breathed. Standing in the doorway was none other than the OG, the badass himself... “Loki?”

“I understand you are unwell and as such I am not to enter your presence. I would not wish to undermine your recovery. However, I come bearing gifts.”

Sabrina entered, grinning from ear to ear, and showed him the T-shirt. Loki had even doodled his face next to his name. “I have embued it with as much healing seidr as possible. I do not know if it will be effective against your Midgardian illness, but I do know it will aid your prodigious courage and strength, provided you heed the instructions of Healer Sabrina, and all others who are working in your aid.”

Captain Marvel, Captain America, and Daredevil also spoke to him personally, adding what qualities they added to his shirt.

Tim was in heaven, and as Sabrina was looking at his vitals, saw he was getting over excited, and thought she would have to cut the visit short, but seeing as she was getting concerned, the actors all proclaimed they needed to depart to return to their duties.

Tim fell asleep that night clutching his shirt, and would not be parted from it. Loki would be pleased to know it did impart healing powers, because it brought the little boy so much happiness...

Tom called Sabrina the next day, and asked if there was anything else he could do for the children in the wing, and Sabrina replied they were still very excited, and he had done more than enough. She was very grateful. She was also very thankful he called to speak with her personally, not because she was flattered on a personal standpoint (although she was) but because her superiors in administration would be quick to turn it into a publicity request or worse, a financial one).

Tom shyly admitted he did have an ulterior motive for asking to speak with her personally...he wanted to know if he could see her sometime.

Something about the small nurse had gotten under his skin. Maybe it was the way she stuck to the background the entire afternoon, even when everyone was getting into the big group photo. Maybe it was the way she never asked for a thing herself, even when they were all speaking casually and privately at the end, when she easily could have. No one would have minded, and even Evans and Larson commented on it over pizza and beer later that evening, how she didn’t ask for a selfie, an autograph, nothing, even though she was as friendly and pleasant as old be...

Cox noticed how Tom blushed when Evans joked about he couldn’t get over someone didn’t want to get a photo with the man who saved New York, or the bastard that almost destroyed it. Cox noticed everything...as he was leaving for the night, he asked Tom, “Are you going to try to get Nurse Ratched’s phone number?”

Tom had flared, “Don’t do that. Don’t make fun of her.”

Cox grinned. “Ah hah. So that’s the way the wind is blowing...” and walked away, whistling.

Coffee became an exchange of What’s App phone numbers. Both of them worked long hours, so texting was a godsend. Texts became marathon phone calls at odd hours of the day, which became meetings in strange places to avoid the paparazzi, until they stumbled into each other’s arms, and each other’s beds.

Sabrina was like no one Tom had ever met: calm, compassionate, cheerful, and not giving a tinker’s damn about the industry, gossip columns, and all the rest of it. When he hesitantly pointed this aspect of her personality out to her she looked at him as though he was something of interest under a microscope.

“Sweet man, I act like I don’t care because I truly don’t. It’s completely irrelevant. Unimportant. Trifling. I have held children’s beating hearts in my hands while doctors have desperately tried to sew them back together in operating rooms because bullets ripped through their little bodies and their bedrooms in housing projects. I’ve held hysterical parents back as they’ve tried to somehow willtheir dying children back to life as they take their last breaths. I’ve held newborns in my hands as they have been only seconds old, and I have held children in my arms as they’ve breathed their last. That, to me, is real. That is life. And it comes wrapped up in tears and laughter and vomit and shit and blood and love and love and love. If some paparazzi, interviewer, man on the street, or tabloid tried to give me shit for loving you, ask me how much I’d care? The answer is not at all. It’s not going to change my mind, or my life.”

Tom knew, then, he had found his one, the one he wanted to spend the rest of his life with, and grow old with, maybe even have a family of his own with...the question was, would she want the same...?

“...Tom? Tom?...Earth to Major...oh, you know what? Forget about it, Major Tom has crashed, Houston, we have a problem,” sighed Sabrina looking at her lover who had fallen asleep on the sofa still clutching part of a cookie he had yet to finish.

“Well, Bobby, it looks like another night of delayed gratification for me...good thing he’s so cute, and I happen to love the charming beanpole,” she commented wryly, only to see that Bobby was also lying on the floor asleep...and farting.

“Good God, what is it with the Hiddleston men tonight, I wonder?” Laughing quietly, Sabrina got up and made sure the bed was ready (and not in the hapless disarray of clothing tossed all around, which was not usual but happened enough to be worthy of a check). She turned down the covers and made sure there was a bottle of water on Tom’s nightstand.

As she was doing this, Tom woke up with a jerk, and he looked around for Sabrina. He wasn’t quite awake, wasn’t asleep, and Sabrina wasn’t there...she wasn’t there, she had finally done it, come to her senses and left him, he had forgotten she was coming to spend the weekend with him, one the rare occurrences she had the entire weekend off, and then he goes and falls asleep on her, no, noton her, but next to her like a right pillock, as if she wasn’t even there...no, no...he knew it was going to happen eventually, she was too lovely a person to put up with him and his bullshit, the way he was so self-absorbed and caught up in his own problems and life, she was right, she dealt in the real world, and...

He put his head in his hands. “I’m sorry, Sabrina...so sorry. You deserved better, but I loved you the best I could,” he whispered. “I gave you all the heart I have...”

“What’s this then?” A soft voice, sweet like melted chocolate, soothing as a warm kiss...

“Sabrina!” His head shot up so quickly she winced at the cracking sound from his neck, and then saw his reddened, swollen eyes.

“Ah, love, what is it? Nightmare?” She came and extended her hand to him. “Come with me, you’re exhausted, and we’ll cuddle.”

“You’re still here.”

She looked at him tolerantly. “Yes, Tom. Still here. Complete with my Cookie Monster puppet, just to drive you mad. Come to bed. I’ll snuggle with you and chase the bads away, I promise. The only monster here is the blue one eyeing your cookies, and I’ve put him away.”

He took her small hand, and smiled. “There will be no delayed gratification in this house. We will enjoy the things we love, and live the one life we have to its fullest...no longer am I going to delay giving my heart what it desires most...I shall be bold, and decisive...Bobby, you have my express permission, nay, encouragement, to destroy the Cookie Monster, and anything else that dares come between myself and my love...”

Yes. He would be bold. Tomorrow, he would ask her if she would consider becoming a permanent star in his sky, he would stop living in fear of her disappearing the moment he closed his eyes, he would throw caution to the four winds, and belay any idea of delaying his happiness, and hopefully, hers, for any reason, a moment longer. There would be declarations made, and promises, and...

He tripped over his shoes.

“Careful! Harsh, Tom, very harsh...and Bobby, don’t you dare.” They turned off the lights and made their way to bed, Tom sleepily stripping along the way, making Sabrina laugh. “Ah, what the world to pay to see this strip show...”

“Quiet, Woman. This is not a strip show, this is a ritual divestiture of armor.”

“Uh huh,” she skeptically agreed, looking at the trail of clothes behind him. “So, if I was to get undressed like that...”

“Ah, now that would be a strip show, and a lovely one, indeed...”

“Sexist double standards...here, sit down, I will tuck you in...”

“Promise?”

“Tom!”

The naughty little boy expression he gave her was ruined by his yawn he could barely cover. Sabrina laughed as she quickly undressed and put on her sleep clothes, only to be greeted by Tom’s gentle snore the moment she turned out the light. He was so very tired. She was glad he could relax, and find some rest.

And while yes, it was definitely a night for delayed gratification, they had the whole weekend to look forward to sharing. She, for one, was so looking forward to bringing out the Cookie Monster puppet in the morning...maybe as part of a wake up call...

Tagging @villainousshakespeare , @winterisakiller , @vodka-and-some-sass , @lotus-eyedindiangoddess , @just-the-hiddles , @yespolkadotkitty , @hopelessromanticspoonie , @theheartofpenelope , @sabine-leo , @wegingerangelica , @ciaodarknessmyheart , @wrathkitty , @rhemasky , @catsladen @sourpatchkidsandacokecan , @redfoxwritesstuff , @the-insomniac-cat2 , @alexakeyloveloki , @myoxisbroken , @ladyfluff , @toomanystoriessolittletime

#Tom & the Cookie Monster Take 2Nonsensical Writestom hiddleston x octom hiddleston x ofclook Christine I did a thing200 follower prompt

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missjosie27 · 4 years

Text

Year 3 Part 8- Winter Battles

Hey, guys! New chapter is up! I hope I’ll be able to update a bit more often but in the meantime enjoy this longish chapter as a reward for patience! David’s got his hands full in this one broh!

Unfortunately for David, another Christmas passed in the usual manner in which he described it to his friends (give or take a few details). More than ever he eagerly anticipated coming back to Hogwarts to resume the search for the Cursed Vaults and his brother. He didn’t think he could take another holiday season in which his parents remained emotionally stunted about Jacob missing from their lives.

Thankfully, it didn’t take long for things to pick back up again. It was mutually agreed that Bill would clear the corridor the next time anyone needed to enter his brother’s room to prevent any suspicion surrounding them or Snape finding out. Though the Potion’s master kept a sharp eye on him during class he did not say anything more about the vaults or make threats.

He did, however, receive an interesting visit from one of the school’s slowest during that same class. Barely a week went by after New Years break when he was confronted by none other than Barnaby Lee. The lesson was already over and David placed a bottle of his sample on his desk (which as usual Snape never acknowledged) when the burly Slytherin cut him off before reaching the exit.

“Merula told me to spy on you,” he said simply.

His expression was difficult to read and David wasn’t sure if he was making a threat or simply being a simpleton.

“Fantastic. Call me crazy but isn’t the point of a spy not telling your target that you’re a spy? Just food for thought.”

He was as sarcastic as ever, but for some reason it didn’t resonate with Barnaby. It almost never did.

“Is it? I hardly learned anything in spy class,” he wondered aloud. (When David realized he was being completely serious he resisted the urge to smack his forehead) “I wouldn’t call you crazy, though. Merula claims you are but you seem quite nice.”

“That’s because Merula is a two bit liar. Why are you even helping her anyway?”

Fully aware this was the boy who threatened to vanish all his bones at one point in time, David was careful not to antagonize him too much. That being said, Barnaby didn’t look angry, far from it, he actually appeared thoughtful.

“I don’t really want to but she promised to make me the most powerful wizard at Hogwarts. I don’t have a choice, do I?”

“There’s always a choice, Barnaby and there are other ways to become more powerful.”

“You’re certain of this?”

“I’m certain getting away from Merula will improve your life dramatically...it did wonders for me, though I don’t always succeed. Not for the lack of trying mind you.”

Despite the jokes, he could see his words were making something of an impact on the tall Slytherin boy. He just wasn’t sure whether that was a good thing or bad thing.

“I never thought of it that way…”

Sighing, David knew he’d best skidaddle before Snape scolded them for loitering near his classroom.

“Look, Barnaby, great chat and all but I have places to be. And if you try to spy on me again you’ll have my wand to answer to.”

This time, Barnaby laughed, much to the Gryffindor’s confusion.

“I’ve never lost a duel, Grant. You don’t want to go against me.”

David looked straight back into the Slytherin’s bright, green eyes, his own hazel-blue full of steel.

“I’ve never lost either. I’d suggest you don’t sully your perfect record.”

He weaved around Barnaby’s massive arms and shoulders before he was called back one more time.

“Grant, Merula’s coming after you. Believe it.”

“Is that a threat?”

“No...I just...thought you should know.”

David said nothing else, grabbing his bag and heading out from the dungeons and to Care of Magical Creatures. However, Barnaby’s behavior intrigued him. Almost like he was becoming...less bad. Setting that private topic later, the Gryffindor teen set off.

He could already sense it was going to be a topsy turvy second semester.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The second semester also brought in a fresh round of boggart scares. The first two weeks back saw over two dozen cases in the hospital wing, suggesting heavily that they were either multiplying or coming from a direct source. No matter how many times the teachers seemed to get rid of them, another always popped up in its place. Dumbledore issued a series of guidelines to prevent more incidents (including never traveling the castle alone and avoiding dark places) but there was little doubt that Hogwarts was increasingly on edge. To add insult to injury, one of the victims was Ben Copper.

David, Rowan, and Charlie all decided to visit him in the hospital wing, knowing full well just how frightened their friend could get. Though long past his insecurities as a muggle born, Ben still lacked the necessary confidence to live up to his true potential. The rampant spread of boggarts only made that shaky confidence worse.

“Poor bloke,” Charlie said, shaking his head. “I heard the boggart kept changing into different things he was scared of.”

“Is that even possible?” David asked, incredulous.

“I suppose anything is possible with these boggarts. These aren’t standard ones after all,” Rowan pointed out. “The vault is clearly manifesting itself in the form of these creatures.”

“Does that mean the boggarts aren’t real?”

“Oh they’re real, however I think the power they induce clearly stems from the vault. It’s only a theory of course, but your brother’s writings indicate as much.”

Rowan had deciphered about a quarter of the notebook thus far though most of the information was more Jacob’s private thoughts on the vaults and what they were andwho built them. He referred to the current one as the ‘vault of fear’. However, there was still no indicator of a location or anything pointing to one for said vault.

“I never knew how much my brother researched about them,” David said. “That’s why I’ve got to get back inside his room. It could give us more clues.”

They shut their mouths, however, as they rounded into the hospital wing with Madam Pomfrey alert. At least a baker’s dozen students were sitting on or by bedsides in some form or another. The majority were second year or below but a fair number were older students as well, many of whom were studying in the library when attacked according to Chiara. It seemed that the boggarts made no discrimination between child and young adult.

Chiara, who often worked at the wing to assist Madam Pomfrey pointed out where their friend was located.

“He’s...still quite anxious,” she told them. “Best to be gentle.”

“Thanks, Chiara. Don’t worry, we will.”

Ben was sitting at the far end of the wing, conscious but a tad disoriented similar to the previous year when he was found caught in cursed ice.

“Dave, Rowan, Charlie? Is that you?”

“It’s us, mate. How are you feeling?”

Ben didn’t immediately respond as he breathed in slowly and exhaled.

“Why am I always the one ending up in here because of a cursed vault?”

“Not your fault. It’s affecting a lot of people. Look around you,” Charlie pointed out.

“Yeah…”

Clearly he wasn’t feeling any better and the three Gryffindor boys knew that, nevertheless they tried to provide some measure of comfort.

“Ben we’re going to solve this. Just like last year,” David told him, trying to sound confident.

“Avoid it, Dave,” Ben replied, his chest rising and falling more rapidly. “T-the closet by the Great Hall...it’s there…”

He could only mean the boggart that attacked him but before any elaboration Madam Pomfrey quickly shooed them away.

“Mr. Copper needs more rest and another dose of calming potion. You may come back and visit him later.”

They obeyed without question (one never violated the rules of Madam Pomfrey’s wing) but just as the trio turned to leave, David felt a tap on his shoulder and was surprised to see Tulip standing behind him.

“Uhhh, hey. What are you doing here?”

“Hope you had a nice break too,” Tulip teased him. “I was actually looking for you, but this is even better timing. I overheard Copper talk about his boggart.”

“Why is that good timing?”

Rowan and Charlie looked at each other with raised eyebrows before turning back and trying to introduce themselves.

“Tulip, right?

“Hi, I’m Rowan. We’ve heard a lot about you.”

But the Ravenclaw carried on as though they weren’t there, which was disconcerting to all those present.

“Because, David Grant, we have an opportunity to practice our new spell. And Copper just told us the perfect place to do it.”

“And you want us to go now?”

“Why wait?” Tulip replied with that ever present mischievous smile. “The longer we tarry the longer these boggarts will keep hanging around and we get no closer to this vault. Follow me.”

As she left the hospital wing, David looked back at Charlie and Rowan, who were utterly nonplussed.

“What are we? Ghosts?” Charlie asked aloud.

“Ghosts may be transparent but at least you can see them,” Rowan complained. “It’s like we didn’t even exist. What’s with that girl?”

“I don’t know,” David responded, talking to himself just as much as he was to his two best friends. “But I’m going to find out one way or the other. Give me an update on Ben when I get back, yeah?”

And he set off to follow Tulip to the desired destination. Hopefully he could kill a boggart and find out the mystery to her odd behavior at the same time. Either way, curiosity and determination were abound.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

David tried to bring up the topic to Tulip before they entered the junk closer (otherwise known as Ben’s hiding spot) but she gave him little time to gather any thoughts.

“You know the incantation just like we researched.”

“Yes. Riddikulus.”

“Right. Remember, we have to laugh at this thing in order to get it to disappear. Once we master this, it’ll be time to go back into your brother’s room. Are you ready?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” he said. “But Tulip-”

“No time. We have to cast the charm before the boggart can scare us out of our wits.”

She opened the door and the two entered before David could raise more objections. But he wouldn’t have had time anyway. Though the room appeared like it normally did- full of junk, a chalkboard, and half open cabinets- a puff of smoke issued forth out of nowhere revealing the presence of the dark creature. He shut the door behind him quickly, and drew his wand; it would not do to have the memory of You Know Who visible to anyone else.

But when he turned around, it was a vestige of the Dark Lord, but Merula Snyde. Except it wasn’t Merula. This version of her sported torn, tattered clothing and looked completely demonic as opposed to just sour or grumpy. By far the most frightening aspect of all was her eyes, the whites of which were completely lavender, mascara running down her cheeks. Even more surprisingly, she wasn’t turned towards him but Tulip.

“I was your friend, your only friend,” the boggart Merula spoke in a high pitched, guttural tone. “You betrayed me…”

The Ravenclaw was white as a ghost and trying not to lose her composure.

“No,” she whispered.

“You’re a liar! A thief! A fraud! No wonder your parents sent you away!” it shrieked towards her.

“That’s not true!” Tulip shouted.

“I hate you! You’ll never be trusted! You’ll never have any friends! I HATE YOU!!!”

It was then that David suddenly realized he needed to take decisive action and fast. Pointing his wand at the phantom Merula he spoke calmly and clearly.

“Riddikulus!”

Immediately, the demonic version of his rival changed into something very un-Merula like. Tattered robes vanished replaced by a neat skirt, white tights, mary janes, and a white cardigan with pink flowers decorating it. Her hair was neatly combed, complete with a juvenile looking bow and her posture changed from that of aggressive and accusing to sugary sweet.

“Hi!” the boggart said in a supremely girly tone. “I’m Merula! I love rainbows, and unicorns, and kittens, and lollies! Do you love rainbows, and unicorns, and kittens, and lollies?”

“Merlin’s beard,” David said aloud, hardly daring to believe what he was seeing.

“Oh my,” was all Tulip uttered.

“Rainbows! Unicorns! Kittens! Lollies! Yay!!”

It was too much. Suddenly, the two teenagers started laughing uncontrollably. In fact David was chortling so hard, his stomach began hurting. Unable to stand the hilarity, the boggart vanished in a puff of smoke.

By now both third years had tears streaming from their eyes, but soon Tulip’s turned from joy to genuine sadness and overwhelmed from the change of emotions, had to sit down on the floor.

Unsure of whether he should comfort her or not, David decided on the former and sat down beside her, placing a hand on her shoulder. It broke his heart to see Tulip crying like this.

“Tulip…”

She kept on silently weeping, as though he weren’t there.

“Tulip,” he said with a little more emphasis but still gently. “It’s okay I’m here.”

The eccentric Ravenclaw hadn’t shown much true emotion thus far, David didn’t peg her for being touchy feely like Penny but in a split second she threw her arms around his shoulders, tears touching down on his uniform.

“I-I’m sorry, David. I’m being s-stupid.”

“No you’re not,” he reassured. “But I think I’m owed an explanation. Why have you been avoiding my friends? Why is your boggart Merula?”

Tulip wiped the remaining tears from her eyes and gave an almighty sniff.

“I suppose you deserve to know the truth, but it’s a bit of a long story.”

“I’ve got time,” David said kindly. Technically speaking it was true. He didn’t have Herbology for another hour or so but he would have skipped it all the same. Tulip adjusted her skirt and began to explain.

“No one knows this, but Merula and I were friends from the minute we arrived at Hogwarts. She invited me to sit at her table the first week and we instantly hit it off. I suppose I gravitated towards her because she had everything I wanted.”

“And what was that?” he asked, refraining from making a joke about Merula having anything anyone would want.

“Freedom,” came the simple reply. “Her parents are in Azkaban for serving You Know Who and they weren’t around all that much before they got arrested. She’s used to doing whatever she wants.” Her face turned resentful and angry. “My parents both work for the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. My whole life has been rules. I couldn’t so much as sneeze without permission.”

David could sympathize, in fact he did. He knew what it was like to have overbearing parents. But his weren’t always that way. From the sound of it, Tulip’s upbringing was far stricter than the one he experienced before and after Jacob’s disappearance.

“When I came to Hogwarts, I was finally free to rebel and do what I wanted. Merula and I started in opposite places, but we ended up the same. We learned new magic together, broke rules together, and played tricks together. Then we heard about the cursed vaults...from you actually.”

“Glad I could be of service,” he joked which caused some of the mischievousness to return to Tulip’s face.

“We made it our mission to find them first. To show everyone how powerful we were and prove ourselves. But I betrayed her…”

This part David was extraordinarily curious about. So she had betrayed Merula?

“Why?”

“A multitude of reasons,” Tulip answered honestly. “It was partially my fault. I wanted the glory for myself and began hiding clues from her. But that was because I started to see the other side of Merula...the ugly side. You don’t need me to tell you this, but she became controlling, domineering, and constantly cross. It was always about her, her glory, her vaults, her way of doing things. She was obsessed with you by the way, never could shut about that ‘smug arshole’ David Grant.”

“I always knew I lived inside her head, rent free.”

Tulip laughed this time and continued on.

“It wasn’t long until Merula found out and when she did we had a huge fight. In the end, we decided that if both of us couldn’t have access to Jacob’s room, no one could. We created a lock with two keys, took one each, and went our separate ways. We haven’t spoken until that day you dueled her and took the key back.”

“And when did this happen?”

“End of second year,” Tulip said sadly. “She’s right to hate me, though. And she’s right that I’ll never have any friends because I don’t deserve them. I’m not afraid of Merula, I’m afraid I’m stabbing people in the back...including you and your friends.”

Echoes of the duel in the courtyard reverbed through David’s mind as he thought back.

Watch out for this one, Grant. It's only a matter of time before she stabs you in the back

“That’s what she meant by that. And that’s also the reason you’ve avoided my other friends.”

“Yes. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to treat them like rubbish I just…”

She fell silent and David knew it was time. He smiled at her and spoke genuinely.

“It’s okay, I’m sure they’ll understand once they know the reason. Everyone makes mistakes, Tulip, but I’m glad we met. I’m glad you're my friend.”

“You mean that, David Grant?”

“Absolutely,” he said. “And like I said before, anyone I associate with, there aren’t any tricks or deceptions. We can be honest with each other. Finding the vaults for us isn’t about proving we’re the best. It’s about family.”

Except when it comes to my actual family...no one needs to more than they already do

Ignoring the image of Jacob that popped up, he offered a hand and pulled her up.

“Thank you,” she said with a smile devoid of any mischief, which David actually thought was quite cute. “Now enough of my moping. Let’s get back to your brother’s room and find the location of this vault.”

“I’ll do you one better,” David offered. “We’ll be able to go down to the room when no one is around so we don’t get caught this time.”

“And what’s your plan for that?” Tulip inquired.

“Two words: Bill Weasley.”

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

That was the plan moving forward. In order to avoid the wrath of Snape, Filch, or any other authority figure Bill would take a shift patrolling the Herbology greenhouses on a Saturday evening, allowing Tulip and David unfettered access to the room.

In the weeks leading up to that however, the Gryffindor cursebreaker took the time to introduce Tulip to his friends in an effort to get her to feel more comfortable. The Hufflepuff table was most welcoming of course as its reputation preceded it. Penny and Chiara were ecstatic at the idea of having another girl in the group, while she also apologized to Rowan and Charlie for her impoliteness earlier in the week. Though Tulip loved to cause mischief and chaos, she and Rowan shared a love of knowledge that almost all Ravenclaws possessed.

“It’s a wonder you weren’t put in Ravenclaw,” Tulip laughed one day while studying in the library.

“I get that all the time,” Rowan said good naturedly. “I guess I wanted to be in the same house as Dave. The hat seriously considered it.”

“You told the hat you wanted to be in the same house as me?” David asked. He’d never been told that before.

“Yeah...you were the only person I knew, I guess,” Rowan replied, sounding a bit embarrassed.

“Hey you belong where you belong. But that doesn’t mean we can’t make you an honorary Ravenclaw,” Tulip told him much to the delight of the Indian lad.

But of all the people she became acquainted with, none had a bigger impact than Nymphadora Tonks. Spunky and precocious by nature, the metamorphagus also loved playing practical jokes and having a bit of fun at the expense of Hogwarts rules. Tulip’s creativity combined with Tonks’s powers made for quite the pair and the two became quickly inseparable. It got to a point where they received a stern talking to and a detention from Flitwick and Sprout respectively for an elaborate plan which involved dropping a bucket of porridge on Jane the Hufflepuff prefect. It was a fast growing friendship, and unlike Merula, Tonks didn’t have a mean or controlling bone in her body. And because of that, it didn’t take long for Tulip to assimilate herself into the group.

David was very happy to see his new friend endear herself and was even more excited to finally get back into his brother’s room. Though the thought of seeing You Know Who was still unsettling at least he could take solace in that it wasn’t real and could try to turn it into something funny, though he didn’t quite have anything in mind yet. There was another factor as well: Tulip had told him her backstory and the origin of her boggart, there was no doubt she was still curious as to why his boggart took the form of You Know Who. He wasn’t sure he wanted to reveal it because he wasn’t really sure himself. Helping people with their problems was one thing, but his own? He buried them deep and out of sight.

But he couldn’t avoid the day of reckoning. Bill managed to sign up for a nightshift on Saturday night, providing them with an easy pathway to the room. Facing the boggart was nigh upon him and it didn’t feel any easier when they approached the door.

“Remember, quick and easy,” Tulip reminded him. “Don’t get scared just because it’s You Know Who.”

“I don’t get scared,” David said in a monotone keeping his eyes forward in the door.

“Everyone gets scared,” Tulip replied astutely. “But you know the spell. You know what to do.”

“Right.”

“Ready? One...two...three!”

They opened the door, shut it, and peered back around. Tulip used the lighting charm to see throughout the room and sure enough a puff of smoke originated from nowhere and rising from it came the terrible figure of Lord Voldemort, wand raised, evil blood eyed stare and all.

Except this time, both teens knew it was a fake and David was ready. Despite the pounding in his chest, he issued forth the spell as loudly and clearly as he could.

“Riddikulus!”

The visage of the Dark Lord immediately erupted in a full clown outfit, big shoes, makeup, and a big red wig. It started dancing around in a silly manner. However, neither Tulip nor David laughed.

“I’m not sure I like this…”

“Yeah this is scarier than before...change it again.”

He performed the spell once more and the clown became a man stuck with a pumpkin around his head which induced the necessary laughter to vanish it in a puff of smoke.

“Dave you don’t have to answer this if you don’t want to but-”

“Why is my boggart You Know Who?” David finished the question for her. “You told me the reason for yours, only fair I tell you mine. And to be honest I’m still not sure why. I remember looking over my dad’s shoulder when I was little while he was reading the prophet and I saw a photo of him inside. One of the few the Ministry was ever able to procure. It was terrifying.”

He pocketed his wand and looked around the dark, dusty room. He couldn’t bring himself to tell her the second reason why. It was rumored Jacob had actually joined Voldemort after being expelled from Hogwarts and the thought of his brother running around in Death Eater robes was a prospect more frightening to him than You Know Who himself.

Thankfully, Tulip made no further inquiries.

“That makes sense. Thank you for telling me that. Anyway let’s check this room out. Merula and I never had a real chance to explore it before our falling out.”

They used lumos to peer around and saw that the space was quite a mess. There was a desk, a board with several photos all pointing to each other in some manner or another, and hundreds of dislodged or disorganized papers skewed about.

“Mum never could get him to clean his room,” he muttered.

“Personally, I rather enjoy chaos as an aesthetic,” Tulip said with a smile.

“Yeah, it doesn’t help us find what we’re looking for. Let’s spread out and see what we can find.”

Finding anything amongst the messy remains of his brother’s room proved to be difficult. Some of the papers were blank while the drawers of the desk were stuffed with trinkets and useless crammed up notes that didn’t make any sense, almost like a schizophrenic wrote them. Some were in the strange Aramaic language and without Rowan there was no way of knowing what they said. But luck was on their side that day, as David flashed his wand over to the wall and found a note written in English.

“Hey, Tulip. I think I found something.”

He gestured her over and plucked the note off.

“What does it say?”

“‘When the vault was first tampered with, there were more boggarts in the library than anywhere else. The vault must be there.’”

David could have kicked himself. Of course. That’s why Madam Pince had been reducing hours and where many of the older students had been found frightened out of their wits. How could he have been so stupid?

“We have to explore the library then,” Tulip surmised. “It’s just as well. Tonks and I have been thinking of new ways to prank that hawk of a librarian.”

“I’m going to have to ask you to hold off on that until we actually find the entrance,” David replied. “There are thousands of shelves in that bloody place. How are we supposed to find it?”

“We should assemble a team to sort through it when we all have time. I’ll keep exploring this place for clues when Bill’s on his shift.”

David nodded. They finally had an inkling to where this vault was and it was another step closer to the ultimate goal.

“Then it’s off to the library.”

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

A team was indeed assembled and it was the largest one yet in finding a cursed vault. Rowan and Bill were onboard as was Ben, who by now was back to his normal frightened self instead of a state of mass panic, though he hated the idea of seeing another boggart. Penny and Tonks also volunteered to come along, the latter becoming increasingly interested in assisting with the vaults herself. David was actually quite touched at the enthusiasm and even more amazed they all found time after lessons to head down to the library (Charlie was at Quidditch practice as per usual).

It also didn’t hurt that Bill was a prefect and therefore could give them a degree of cover, a job that Rowan had plenty of questions about as they walked down towards their desired destination.

“What’s it like being prefect?” the Indian lad asked enthusiastically. “Have you given out a lot of house points?”

“We mainly take away points,” Bill said honestly with a small smile. “To stop the younger kids from acting like gits.”

“But there have to be benefits right?”

“Oh yeah. You get a nice bathroom for starters, and you can be out as long as you want when you take night shifts in the corridors. Which is what I’ve been doing to help you lot, actually,” he laughed.

“I want to be prefect,” Rowan commented, beaming with enthusiasm. “Then I can become Head Boy and then the youngest professor in Hogwarts history!”

“Same!” Penny declared happily. “Dave might give you a run for your galleons, Rowan. There can only be one prefect per gender in every house.”

David scoffed.

“Please. I’m the ‘cursebreaker’, I break too many rules. Plus I’ve already received stern talking to’s from Dumbledore and McGonagall. Pretty sure I’m as likely to be prefect as Snape is at finding a bottle of shampoo.”

That caused the group to laugh, though Rowan beamed at him.

“You’d make just as good of a prefect as me.”

“Please, our own prefect doesn’t even like me. The chances are slim to none.”

That wasn’t strictly true, he and Angelica had gotten on quite a bit better than the previous two years since he lost his proclivity for losing house points. That being said his reputation preceded him. Jacob certainly hadn’t been a prefect.

“Don’t knock it, Dave. You never know,” Penny encouraged.

“And if you don’t, you’re still among friends,” Tonks chimed in. “You can always slag off with Tulip and I in detention.”

“Speaking of, where is she?” Rowan asked.

“Detention. Where else?” David snorted. “Got caught sending Filch a present. Turns out it was a dungbomb. What a shocker.”

“How did they know it was her?”

“McGonagall saw her transfiguring it near Filch’s table at the Great Hall.”

Bill couldn’t help but shake his head and laugh.

“I really don’t know how Chester Davies can handle her.”

The group chatted and bantered like this until they reached the library otherwise known as the lair of Madam Pince in which they quickly kept their voices to a dull roar and idle chat to a minimum.

“Alright we have to spread out and look for any sign of the location of the vault,” he said to them quietly as they gathered near one of the shelves.

“What should we look for?” Rowan asked.

“Yeah, a library isn’t exactly an unlimited space,” Penny added.

“Ordinarily I’d say use revealing or transfiguring spells as it was with the ice vault,” Bill suggested. “But Madam Pince isn’t too keen on students doing anything here except reading and keeping their mouths shut. So just look for anything that seems out of place.”

“We won’t run into any more boggarts, will we?” Ben asked fearfully.

“I’ll go with you just in case,” Bill reassured him kindly. “We’ll work in pairs. Let’s go.”

Tonks and Penny went as a pair and so did he and Rowan. They scoured the shelves and every corner of the old library for anything out of the ordinary but it seemed plain as could be. Once in a while they would pull a book off the shelf, look at it, then put it back to keep Madam Pince from getting suspicious but overall it was tedious work. That is, until Rowan’s genius and curiosity came in handy once more.

Working over near a shelf by the entrance of the restricted section, he pulled out a sheet of paper at the very end of a stack of books that looked ancient and unread for centuries. Opening the note, his eyes widened and he adjusted his glasses.

“David!” he said excitedly but in a hushed tone. “Check this out.”

“What?”

“It’s a half torn page with the same ancient Aramaic ciphers as your brother’s notebook. I can’t make it out but if there’s a half torn page inside somewhere-”

“-it could tell us the location of where the vault is.”

They quickly gathered the rest of their group to tell them the news but evidently they became much too loud because the next thing they knew Madam Pince was shooing them off with as though she were an old lady swatting away a dog.

Still, it was another lead and once Rowan was able to match the cipher with another inside of his brother’s notebook. David felt a new wave of excitement engulf his senses and in fact he was so caught up in this new breakthrough he did not notice a pair of unfriendly, lavender eyes watching him.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

January moved into February and with it came ever more snow and windy weather. However, the days were getting slightly longer and with it some extra time to spend outside. Sometimes this meant snowball fights with Tonks, Penny, Tulip, Ben, and Charlie (Rowan was content to watch). But it also brought another pleasant surprise. One snowy Sunday he received word from Hagrid he was invited over for tea at his hut which David gladly accepted. In fact he felt almost guilty since the two had discussed meeting back during his first trip to Hogsmeade.

He soon found out the giant man held no grudge and was extremely warm and friendly like he always was. Fang was also there, (by now fully grown of course) and was excited to have company over just as much as Hagrid was. Of course, coming over to the hut also meant another surprise, one that nearly cost him a trip to the dentist. Not knowing what a rock cake was, David naively took one and tried to bite into it and almost cracked a tooth. In an effort to avoid hurting Hagrid’s feelings, he sucked on the odd treat for a while and noticed that while the taste wasn’t bad, it was still quite lumpy and its texture filled with something he believed were raisins.

At the very least the tea was delicious and more importantly, the third year Gryffindor got a chance to know the gameskeeper a little better too, especially since they were far away from the crowded and noisy Three Broomsticks. Hagrid regaled him with more stories from his own Hogwarts days, including the various exploits he got up to, though he was mum on the reason for being expelled (David didn’t press the topic). He also asked about Care of Magical Creatures classes with Professor Kettleburn.

“Well he’s kind of a loon,” came the reply. David didn’t have the heart to tell him it wasn’t his favorite class in the world. But Hagrid laughed all the same.

“He’s a good man, Professor Kettleburn. Really knows his stuff when it comes ter creatures. But he’s lost too many limbs fer his own good.”

“Sometimes he’s not always the best at practicing what he preaches when it comes to safety.”

“No denyin he’s gettin up there in age. Been there almost as long as I have…” he paused, bearded features suddenly becoming thoughtful.

“What is it Hagrid?”

“I dunno...forget it. It’s stupid.”

David smiled encouragingly.

“You can tell me. I’m sure it’s nothing of the sort.”

“Well I..err...I was hoping ter teach someday when Professor Kettleburn has had enough. Always been a dream o’ mine.”

The third year teen beamed at him.

“I think you’d make a great teacher.”

Hagrid’s beetle, black eyes watered with appreciation.

“Yer really mean it, Dave?”

“Absolutely.”

The vote of confidence seemed to put Hagrid in an extra jolly mood and the conversation continued. They talked of classes and Quidditch, something the big man loved as much as he. David also found out the gameskeeper was a Gryffindor like himself in his youth. However, the biggest takeaway he received from the experience was the unique brand of wisdom Hagrid seemed to possess. Though not worldly nor eloquent with words, it was the genuineness and sincerity of the man that made him so endearing.

“I’m glad ter see you’ve made so many friends, David. Truly, it’s a blessing.”

“I’m glad I have them too...did Jacob have a lot of friends?”

He asked this knowing full well his brother never told him anything about his time or exploits at Hogwarts. Curiosity abounded in him.

“He was much more of a loner, I won’t lie to yeh,” Hagrid answered truthfully. “Such a kind and polite lad, but he preferred his own company most of the time. That’s why I think it’s important yeh got the friends yeh do. Specially the Weasleys. They’re good folk.”

He poured David another glass of tea as well as himself, sitting back in his enormous, comfy chair.

“I may be speakin out o’ line, but I always worried yer brother was too obsessed with them vaults. Whatever’s to come, David, keep yer friends close. And remember that not everyone in the Wizardin World has yer best interests at heart. There are those who’d show their true colors in a minute if they could.”

The teen knew Hagrid spoke of the wizarding war and the Death Eaters who were never caught but he appreciated the sentiment all the same, especially when it came to his friends. He promised to keep them close as advised.

Before they could continue, however, a message arrived through the open window in the form of a paper airplane. Taking it with his hands he opened it and saw it was from Tulip which reported she had made a breakthrough in Jacob’s room and to come straight away. Though he hated to leave Hagrid, the gentle giant was understanding.

“Speaking of friends…” he began but he was waved off.

“Not a problem, Dave. We’ve been talkin fer well over two hours. Go and see em.”

“We’ll do this again soon,” he vowed. “Thank you for having me over.”

“My pleasure o’ course! See ya soon!”

David closed the door of the hut behind him and began trekking through the snow in his boots and warm overcoat. Though it was mild by the standards of the month, light flakes still fell from the sky as he raced back up the grounds and the visibility was poor, a light fog descending from above as the sun began to settle into the west in the late afternoon. But that didn’t concern him at the moment, so eager he was to find out what Tulip discovered.

He almost didn’t see the jet of red light that nearly hit him smack dab in the face.

Pulling his wand out he immediately took a defensive position before a jinx hit him in the back sending him face first into the snow. It was only then that his attackers came into view: Barnaby Lee, Ismelda Murk, and of course, Merula Snyde, who’s lavender eyes were alight with malicious intent, wand pointed directly at him.

“Fancy seeing you out here in the snow,” David told her, not moving from the ground in fear of being hexed again. “I thought snakes tended to avoid cold weather.”

“Be quiet or I promise you’ll never be able to use that mouth again,” Merula threatened not taking her eyes off of him for a second. “I’m going to say this once: I saw you and your little gang in the library and I know you found something. You’re going to tell me what it is or else…”

David couldn’t help but take another pot shot at her.

“Why on earth are you spying on us? Are you jealous I have actual friends and you have nothing but lackeys? I know it’s a foreign concept to you-”

A nasty curse he recognized as some kind of skin disfigurement sailed past his shoulder.

“Not. Another. Word,” she hissed viciously. “I want the information and I want it now. I’m not going to lose this time, Grant. It’s three against one.”

“Any sudden movements, you’ll be going back to West Country in a box,” Ismelda sneered.

David took a slight pause to take a look at his three challengers. All stood over him at a different angle. Merula’s intent was obvious and Ismelda, despite having only one visible eye underneath her black mop of hair, seemed gleeful, even hopeful at the prospect of harming him. Barnaby on the other hand said nothing and was stoney faced. In fact, it looked as though he didn’t want to be there at all.

It’s a shame what I’m about to do him next

Formulating a plan in his head, David suddenly grabbed his wand with his right hand and used his left to send a flurry of snow into Merula’s face temporarily blinding her. Caught off guard he bellowed, ‘Meteolo!’ at Ismelda. The effect was immediate as a concurrent of bad weather- hail, rain, and snow- began pelting the Slytherin girl and forced her to beat a hasty retreat as she cried out.

Spinning around he ducked below Barnaby’s stunner and sent a disarming spell.

“Expelliarmus!’

Barnaby tried to catch the dislodged wand in his wands, but as he juggled it, he lost his footing and tumbled to the ground in a painful heap. This left Merula as the sole challenger left.

Snarling with uncontained rage she sent a body-bind curse his way, which he dodged and returned one of his own. She in turn dodged it and caught him in the face with a curse that felt like he had been hit by the Hogwarts Express, which caused him to see stars. But David persevered, keeping his wits about him (despite knowing his nose was likely broken) and had just enough time to counter what came next.

‘Glacius!’

Merula sent a freezing charm his way and he countered with its natural opposite.

‘Incendio!’

Fire met ice, and the former prevailed as the heat caused Merula to stagger and sway off balance in order to avoid the flames. It was all David needed to finish the fight.

‘Depulso!’

The jet of red light caught Merula in the stomach, sending her straight onto her back and into the snow, skirt and stockings in disarray. The Gryffindor teen ran up and kicked her wand away in order to prevent her from pulling a fast as she was apt to do. In a twist, the roles were now reversed.

“Don’t you ever get tired of this?” he said through quick breaths. “What’s your deal anyway? Are you mad Tulip’s my friend now? It’s not my fault you treated her like garbage-”

Merula gave an unearthly scream and leapt at him from the ground but the snow under her boots caused her to slip and fall forward onto her stomach in a humiliating fashion.

“Yeah, I wouldn’t try that again. Not unless you want me to transfigure your nose into a rhinoceros horn, which I can do by the way.”

But Merula merely spat on the ground at his feet, digging her black gloved hands into the snow with unbridled rage.

“I don’t care about you or your stupid friends. Tulip’s going to stab you in the back, but I promise you the next time we duel I’m going to do something far worse. You mark my words, Grant.”

“Oh sure. I’ll just whip out my favorite quill and parchment and jot it right down. Just for you.”

The injury to the Slytherin’s pride seemed to outweigh the physical damage as hurt flooded back into the angry, lavender eyes which now seemed almost vulnerable.

“I hate you,” she practically whispered. “I-I…”

Just then Barnaby reappeared on the scene, though Ismelda was still nowhere to be found. He looked dumbfounded and more than a bit confused but he had his wand back which David and Merula seized on immediately.

“What are you waiting for?!” Merula screeched. “Hex him! Do something!”

But the burly Slytherin didn’t do anything. Far from raising his wand arm, it remained at his side, emerald eyes taking in the scene before him.

David switched his wand to point towards Barnaby but didn’t fire. He’d wasted enough time dueling with the trio as it was and he wanted to find Tulip. Slowly, he backed away, not taking his eyes off his opponents for a second. It was only when he reached the door to the inside of the castle that he turned and ran, but not before he heard Merula’s demeaning insults.

“...can’t believe you didn’t do anything! Honestly, I don’t know why I have such a pea brained idiot like you around!”

David didn’t really feel all that sorry for Merula.

He did, however, feel a pang of sympathy for Barnaby.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

When he reached his brother’s room Tulip was there waiting for him but there was considerable concern etched on her face.

“Blimey, David. What happened? You look like you just battled through a blizzard.”

“Worse. It was Merula and her goons again. They attacked me when I wasn’t looking.”

Tulip shook her head.

“I’m sorry, I should have warned you they were skulking about. But they were on the grounds and not anywhere near here. How did you run into them?”

“I went to Hagrid’s for tea. Got ambushed on my way back up. Managed to get away though.”

“That’s obvious otherwise you wouldn’t be here,” the Ravenclaw pointed out. “I was beginning to get worried too. Wait…”

She came up to him and placed a hand on his cheek, a finger touching his nose which caused him to wince.

“That’s a broken nose, alright. Don’t worry I actually know a few healing spells.”

David didn’t have time to object but he did trust Tulip enough to let her try and mend his injury.

‘Episkey’

In an instant his nose shifted back into place, good as new though it still felt a little sore.

“Thanks.”

“No problem. That’s one of Merula’s signature moves. She likes to use the blunting curse. Small bit of dark magic but not anywhere near what she’s capable of.”

“Hallelujah,” David said sarcastically.

“Anyway, I called you here because I found something that might interest you but I wasn’t sure what it meant.” Tulip pulled out a note from her jumper pocket and handed it to him. “Do you have any idea?”

David took it and again saw it was in English. It was also very short.

“‘The book opens the way.’

Thinking back, it took a few moments for David to remember just what book his brother was referring to...the one he found in the ice vault the previous year.

“What does it mean?” Tulip pressed.

“He’s talking about the book I found last year in the previous vault. I found it there along with his broken wand. I temporarily forgot about it because it was blank and didn’t think it meant anything. But it must be the ticket to getting inside the vault of fear.”

“We just need the location of the entrance now,” the Ravenclaw girl added. “Once we know that, we can enter it and break the curse.”

“Rowan’s still digging through my brother’s notebook,” David said. “He’ll find the missing link and be able to work out the code to get us there. But there’s also another problem at stake here: Merula. She’s becoming more and more of a threat and she’s not going to stop harassing us until we’re out of her way.”

Tulip nodded in agreement.

“Indeed. Which is why we need a fast solution to said problem. Thankfully, I believe I’ve come up with just the thing. You know Barnaby Lee?”

“The huge, slow bloke that serves as a bodyguard for Merula? What about him?”

“I suggest we try to enlist his help. He’s the strongest wizard in our year and not to mention he’s a Slytherin. He knows things about that house we don’t.”

David thought back to his previous conversations with Barnaby and recognized a pattern to them over time. Far from being a typical monster, he was quite amicable as the year progressed.

“He seems nice sometimes, I’ll give you that,” he said to her. “Too nice to be working with Merula.”

“Exactly, and what better way to undermine Merula than to sway someone to join our side from her own. Believe me, I know what’s like to be ordered around all day by her and I’m sure he’s getting sick of it too…”

David had to pause for a second to ensure he heard Tulip correctly.

“Wait, wait...let me get this straight. You want to enlist a bloody Slytherin in our cause?”

“He’s not just any Slytherin, he’s one that fits multiple requirements to aid us in this quest. I’m aware that Gryffindor House doesn't take kindly to the house of snakes, you least of all, but look past it this one time. He could be a big help.”

David, despite his immense personal dislike of Slytherin, couldn't deny she had a point. Barnaby was strong and to convince yet another one of Merula’s ‘friends’ to switch sides would not only tip the balance further in their scale but it had the potential to be the knockout blow. And of all the snakes he had interacted with thus far (with the exception of Liz Tuttle) Barnaby also seemed to be the friendliest. After all, he failed to hex him when he very well could have not too long ago. And to Tulip’s point, he also seemed quite unhappy.

“Alright, you convinced me. I’ll try and talk to him. But what the hell am I supposed to say?”

Tulip placed an arm around his shoulder and gave a shifty grin.

“You have a way with words, David Grant and you’re quite charming when you want to be. Just don’t let your personal feelings get in the way of this one.”

Much as he was loath to admit it, she was right. In his three years at Hogwarts there had not been a single positive interaction with Slytherin and as a result he currently despised them, seeing them only as future dark wizards and fodder to crush on the Quidditch pitch. But now, it was time to swallow his pride even though disbelief still remained active in his mind.

He had to try to convince Barnaby Lee to jump ship.

9 notes · View notes

elejahfanfic · 4 years

Text

Hello Love/4

Fanfiction

Part 4

This is an AU story with tvd/to characters. All human, no vampires or witches.

A sweet fluffy love story, ft. Klaroline, Kennett, Jebekah (Rebekah and Jackson!)

but the main pairing is Miguel Galindo x Elena Gilbert

since I love to write crossover au’s, here I am borrowing Miguel Galindo from MayansMC...played by Danny Pino.

Yemaya is played by Zoe Saldana.

tag_ @miguelsbrat

Thank you for reading. It means a lot.

✽-(●◡●)/✽

***

The next day, Caroline had to call Elena first thing in the morning to tell her about her date.

"Danielle's-it was so good that it seems so unreal- and he was a perfect gentleman. I thought that they don't exist "Caroline swooned.

"Sounds unreal " Elena said.

"I know. But- Please let me have this, let me dream he is out of the ordinary."

"Just because crap happens to me. Things don't have to happen to you."

Elena now shared that Miguel and Rebekah came to the bakery shop and that she got the comission to make Cristobal’s birthday cake, aslod adding that Rebekah had invited them for lunch at Rafa's.

Yemaya couldn't make it as she was busy following a lead on a story, with Stefan, of course. She reported though that she and Stefan talked about their one nighter, and decided to remain colleagues and that her career was important to her.

"She is crazy." Caroline said as she put the phone down after having spoken to Yemaya.

"It’s her life.”Elena said, “anyway I talked to my aunt Jenna. She called me like at 3 a.m. She is coming back like in a couple of weeks. She has an exhibition or something."

"So her excavations went well?!" Caroline concluded.

"Yep. It will be so good seeing her. And so when are you meeting Klaus again?"

"Tomorrow night. Talking about exhibitions- there is one of his favourite architect Le Courbisier- now explain the Damon kiss?!"

"There is nothing to explain. He kissed me- but I didn't kiss him back - and when I said that we are done. We are done! He can do what he wants. I really don't care. Can we not talk about Damon ever again."

“Sure.” Caroline said and then said that she had to hang up as she had to rush.

A couple of hours later, Rebekah, Elena and Caroline ventured into one of their favourite restaurants. As they ordered, the first topic was Caroline’s date with Klaus.

"Ok - this is kind wierd, but I can’t tell him who to date or not. I got to tell you this. He is a great charmer and- I have told him if he breaks your heart he will be dealing with me!"

"I didn't mean to be negative. But, I like our friendship- and I wouldn't want to lose that if something went wrong if I dated your brother " Elena explained.

She had a valid point.

"You would want to date my brother?" Rebekah then confronted Elena with a question she didn't expect.

"No. I was just saying." Elena quickly blurted out.

"I thought you liked Miguel?! I mean- yesterday- you spent quite a lot of time talking to him" Rebekah would sometimes be too blind and straight forward putting a person on the spot.

"I was talking to all of you!" Elena defended herself and was now blushing. " I like him. Ok - I’ve said that I don't want to date anybody. I am not ready."

"Miguel hasn't dated in like- forever." Rebekah said.

"So, he seriously hasn't been with anyone since his wife died?! That’s like ten years" Caroline said.

"Not that I know of. I don't think he is capable of one night stands. He was always romantic and by the book. He takes the girl out and marries her!" Rebekah joked."He was born serious!"

Before they could continue Caroline's phone rang and it was Yemaya on the phone. She was frantically explaining to her friend that she was on the way to the hospital and that Stefan had been stabbed..

The lunch finished abruptly, and Rebekah now called her father, and then her office. All three women rushed to the hospital. Stefan and Yemaya were their friends for a long while, and they had to be there for both of them.

Elena was on the phone to her co-worker explaining that she would not be returning to the shop.

Caroline could not stay long as her father called her back to the office, as there was a new important client she had to meet.

"I'll be back when I am done with the meeting!"- she assured Yemaya, who was completely distressed.

At the hospital exit, Caroline bumped into her mother, who was now on the case. They just quickly exchanged words and Liz now went up to talk to Yemaya.

Damon arrived wanting answer about what had happened. Katherine was with him.

Elena explained what Yemaya told them, and that was that he was following up a story about gangs. Damon was furious, as Stefan would go for a good story to the most shady places and dealing with all kinds of criminals if necessary. There were numerous times that Damon would go with him and there had been occasions where they nearly didn't make it out of a bad situation.

Rebekah came up to them. She informed them that Miguel was operating with his team.

"Stefan is in good hands!" she said to Damon.

Krystal now took Damon away from them.

Rebekah now slipped to Elena nearly whispering.

"So much about Krystal being just a glitch!” Rebekah remarked.

“Well, I wish them all the luck in the world” Elena said, turning to Yemaya and offered her the cup with the coffee and a sandwich.

"I can't eat!" Yemaya said. "Thanks yo so much, Elena. Oh- I just hope he is all right! He must be all right!!!"

"He will be all right. Rebekah's brother is operating and he is like the best of the best."

"How do you know?!" Yemaya slipped and then apologized, wrenching her hands with worry.

"I googled it!" Elena then said. "He is like the top cardiothoracic surgeon in the world- the best! Stefan will be fine!" She encouraged her friend to think positively. She said a little prayer inside herself. Stefan was a really good friend, she had met when he still lived in her building. They were neighbours. He had a crash on her, but he never told her, as he saw that she started showing interest in his brother. Their friendship grew into something strong and solid.

The wait was agonizing and the four of them kept quiet, although Damon was pacing back and forth several times. Finally, Miguel came out and now was asking who the next of kin was to give them the report.

Damon came up to him, explaining that he was Stefan's brother.

Miguel had promising news. The operation went well, although it was a chest wound. Damon would be able to see him in a little while.

Then he noticed Elena there, and greeted her cordially. She nodded saying a faintly hello. He excused himself and went away.

Not long after, the nurse came to Damon to take him to the ICU where Stefan was sent to.

When he got to the room, seeing Stefan hooked up on the machines monitoring his heartbeat and other vitals, overwhelmed Damon.

"Damn you, Stefan -what were you thinking - that you are not invincible." he muttered with mixure of pain and anger looking at his brother who was still unconscious.

Damon was a terrible womanizer, but when it came to Stefan, he could give his life for him. ***

Elsewhere

Bonnie now switched her phone on and there were tones of messages notifying her about Stefan's stabbing. She returned Elena's calls and told her that she would be in hospital soon. Then she called Kol to let him know why she was changing their plans for the night.

Charly knocked at her office door and Bonnie invited her in.

"Hi.How can I help you?" Bonnie said.

"Ms Bennett, I know I am probably late, but I was wondering if I could still do the audition for the musical?"

"Of course," Bonnie said, "Singing or - would you like the role of the narrator?"

"Singing, reading, anything. I want to be in the school play!" Cristobal said.

"Good. I will put your name down. It is with Mr Petrov on Wednesday at the School's Drama Hall. Details will be hung at the board just outside my office."

"Thank you." Cristobal said, happy that he got into the play.

Bonnie now got ready to leave herself.

***

Back in the hospital, Yemaya now asked if she could see Stefan but the nurse said that only the surgeon could authorize it, since she wasn't family.

Elena now told her friend to wait and she went to see where Elijah was and if he was available. The nurse directed her to his study.

She knocked at the door and when she heard him say to come in, she gulped a bit and then walked in.

"Elena?!" Miguel stood up surprised to see that it was her.

"I apologize for disturbing you. My friend has been told that you are the only person who can authorize visits. Yemaya is Stefan colleague, and practically his girlfriend, although it is not official."- she knew she went into the rambling zone, and hated that she was like this in front of him.

"Yes- All right. What is her name?" Miguel picked the phone to call the nurses station.

"Yemaya Baker!" Elena said.

He repeated it and then tol her how long Yemaya could stay.

"Thank you," Elena said,"I usually don't do this-use my friendship connections- but-"

"I understand. One can always make an exception. "

"Yes. Thank you!" And as she wanted to leave now, he uttered,"Elena-"

"Ha- Yes?" the brunette turned around lookina at the surgeon breathing in through her nose, her stomach flipping uncontrolably again.

A knock at the door made both flinch. A man now entered, interruping them.

"Oh-excuse me. I didn't know that you were with a patient- You said you were done-" Dr Shepherd said.

"Uhm -yes," Miguel said and looked at his colleague.

"I will not keep you." Elena said and walked out of the office.

Elena's phone rang and it was Caroline following up on the message she received earlier.

"I'll be going home soon. I'll see you tomorrow." Elena said and hung up.

Bonnie offered to stay and wait for Yemaya, and so Elena left the hospital.

She wanted to walk and so she took off slowly through the nearby park. She wanted to clear her mind and try to make sense of her stomach making somersault everyt time she was around Miguel.

***

Sometime later, Miguel went to checked upon Stefan, before he left the hospital, who was stable. He then told the nurses that Yemaya could see him on the daily basis.

As he got into his office, he rang Cristobal, who informed him that he was with Henrik and his friends.

“Right. I guess you will sleep over again?”

“No. Grandma’s chauffeur will drive me home.”

“All right then. Have a great time.” Miguel said.

“Ok. Night, papa.”

“Night, mi hijo.” Miguel said and as he picked up his jacket and bag, he exited his office.

He rarely put the radio on, but now he did. It played 'All of the Stars'. At a junction, instead of turning right to take the road to the house, he turned left. Soon he found himself parking not far from the cafe where he first met Elena by chance. It was closed when he got to it as it was only open till six o'clock.

It's just another night And I'm staring at the moon I saw a shooting star And thought of you

"Hello-" a familiar voice said, and he nearly jumped, turning around.

"Hello!" he said somewhat clumsily.

"I saw you- uhm this is closed - but the bar just here is open." Elena showed him the bar she had been in "they have great wine - you can join me if you’d like"

"I'd love to have a glass of wine!" he said with as small smile dancing up on his face and now followed Elena in.

Elena ordered their wine and eased into the conversation after a few sips.

"I don't know how much Rebekah has told you about me-"

"Not much really. Just some stuff."

"Just some stuff-"he repeated.

"It's not that bad. She is really happy you guys are back. Especially for Cristobal."

"Yes. Cristobal has really welcomed the move. I thought she would oppose." Miguel said and was surprised with what ease he could share something personal with the woman he had met just a few times.

"And you?” Elena asked.

"Same. I should have returned years ago.”

“Why didn’t you if you don’t mind me asking-”

"Rebekah probaby told you about my wife passing."

"She told us something - this must have been really so hard. I can’t even imagine it.”

“Cristobal was five years old - same as I when my parents were killed.” Miguel said taking a sip of the wine. He was clearly shook.

“I’m sorry - I didn’t want to - go there.“

“No - it is fine. I was lucky to have had the love and such great siblings, even thought I am adopted, but they have never made me feel like I’m not their real brother. What about you? Do you have any siblings?”

Elena now told him about Jeremy and Jenna. as well as her parent's tragic accident.

"Jeremy was in his senior year, I was just finishing college. Our aunt Jenna came to live with us for a year. Well, she lived with Jeremy. I was in the city. I miss them. Haven't been to my parent's house since Jeremy left to college."

"Memories." Miguel then said.

"Yeah- and Stefan being stabbed- just made me think how crazy life is. Everything can just end in a minute."

Then they both got quiet and Elena felt that the conversation went into a dead end street.

The waitress came up to them asking if they wanted anything more. Miguel declined as he was very conscious as to how much he drank. Elena declined as well. It seemed it was the end of the evening that wasn't going all too well. He offered to drive her home. Elena accepted.

"It's up and coming area. I plan on selling it and buying something closer to the Park."

As they arrived, he got out to see her to the door of her building.

"Thanks," she said, "this is me- fifth floor-ahm- thanks for the drink."

"Thank you." Miguel said dearly.

“What for - it was - you had a long day and I talked about me - sorry”

“It is fine. I loved listening to you talking” Miguel said.

“You did?”

“I did. You know -haven’t done this in a very long time - I -”

Strange awkwardness suddenly arose. And then there was this static encirling them from nowhere, that crackling in the air, a strange magical force field. Elena felt her face heat, and could hear her heart pounding wildly in her chest. Now or never. She stepped forward and placed a kiss on his cheek, slipping a faint good night.

His heart seized when she pressed a kiss to his cheek, and almost by accident, he turned into her silky caress, their lips so close he could smell the hint of cherry on her lips.They froze in the same split second and his pulse thudded slow and hard as she beamed her eyes at him.

Miguel’s full lips were only inches from hers. She could feel his warm breath brushing over her skin.Slowly his head now lowered toward hers.Then his lips found hers. He buried his hands in her hair and pulled her closer.His mouth moved over hers, tasting her fully. His lips soft but firm. She opened to him, and he slipped the hot tip of his tongue between her lips. Her body dissolved into his, shuddering slightly, letting a soft muffled moan out as he deepened the kiss.

So open your eyes and see The way our horizons meet And all of the lights will lead Into the night with me And I know these scars will bleed But both of our hearts believe

#miguel galindo #elena gilbert #fanfiction #fanfiction au #alternative universe #alternate pairing #klaroline #danny pino #nina dobrev

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anamaleth · 4 years

Text

Twins

Summary: Statement of someone unknown, regarding the appearance of something that was not their twin and the events following said appearance. Original statement given April 10th 2011. Audio recording by Jonathan Sims, Head Archivist of the Magnus Institute, London.

Content Warnings: Imposters , people being replaced/showing up and only you notice, paranoia, mental breakdown, brief mention of drugs (no references to actual drugs/drug use!), people forgetting who you are

read on ao3

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Statement of…huh. That’s odd. It doesn’t list a name here.

Well, statement of someone unknown, regarding the appearance of something that was not their twin and the events following said appearance. Original statement given April 10th 2011. Audio recording by Jonathan Sims, Head Archivist of the Magnus Institute, London.

Statement begins.

Before I start this, I need you to know that I am not crazy. I’ve never had any problems with my mental health, and as far as I’m aware, neither has anyone in my family. My childhood was perfectly normal and, despite the occasionally skipped class, I’ve never been much of a troublemaker. I’ve never taken any drugs in my whole life, I’m not the kind of person to get involved in those sorts of things.

I need you to believe me. This isn’t the confused rambling of someone who isn’t thinking clearly – this really happened. Even though no one would ever consider listening to me, much less believe anything I say.

But that’s what you guys do, right? Listen to people’s crazy stories and believe them? Try to help them?

To be honest, I don’t think you can help me. But I do feel like telling you this is the right thing to do. So that’s exactly what I’m going to do. It’s not like I have anywhere else to go.

I’ve been an only child my whole life. When I was younger I used to love it – always being the centre of my parents’ and relatives’ attention, always getting lots of presents on my birthday and on Christmas. It’s such a childish and selfish way to think, isn’t it? I grew out of it, eventually, but it took me quite some time, especially with pretty much all of my friends having siblings and always telling me how jealous they were of me getting so much cool stuff on the holidays.

I was never a jerk about it, though – my parents didn’t raise a spoiled brat. I always shared my stuff with other kids when they came over, always made sure they’d feel “right at home”.

I was about 12, I believe, when I first found myself thinking about wanting to have a sibling. That’s when I met my best friend, or well, former best friend, Charlie Baker. Charlie had…well, has a twin, Alex – and the three of us spent a lot of time together.

Even though Charlie had told me that I was their best friend, I found myself envious of the relationship they had with their twin. They seemed to be – it’s hard to explain. They seemed to be in sync, like two pieces of the same puzzle that fit together perfectly. They teased each other, like siblings always seem to do, and sometimes they fought, but they always had each other’s backs when it mattered.

I wanted nothing more than to have someone like that. A twin. Someone I could be in sync with. I guess I should’ve been more careful what I wished for.

It’s been two months since he…it showed up. I was walking home after having taken the school bus back to my village. I said goodbye to Charlie and Alex, who live just a couple of blocks away from me, turned into my street and walked towards my house. That’s when I realized that I didn’t have my keys with me.

Not that big of a deal, right? I’ve always been pretty forgetful, have been accidentally leaving my keys at home ever since my parents gave them to me. It’s never been a problem though, my mom works from home so she was always there to open the door for me when I needed her to.

I didn’t think much of it when I rang the doorbell and no-one opened the door. I thought “Hey, maybe she just didn’t hear me”, so I rang the bell once more. Again, nothing.

Just when I decided to take out my phone and call her, the door swung open. In front of me, inside of my house, stood someone I didn’t know. Someone who looked almost exactly like me.

I wish I could say that there was something wrong about him that I noticed immediately. But even now that I’m looking back, there was nothing particularly unsettling about him. Nothing that I could remember, at least.

He was completely ordinary, just like me; had the same hair colour as me, a similar hairstyle, the same facial structure, the same height. It was like catching a glimpse of your own reflection in a mirror out of the corner of your eye, without focusing on it.

He - no, it – smiled at me. A smile that was so perfectly normal, so innocuous that it seemed almost artificial. It said four words to me, then, four words before it turned around and left me alone at the doorstep.

“There you are. Finally.”

I didn’t understand what was happening. Panic rushed over me and my breathing began to fasten – not even for a single moment did I consider the possibility that this was all just a terrible joke.

I have been an only child all my life, and I have never been anything but an only child. Yet at that moment, that moment of confusion and horror, it was clear that whatever had opened that door was pretending to be my twin.

In an attempt to make sense of all of this and to rationalize what was happening to me, I ran up the stairs to my mom’s office and barged straight in, not even bothering to knock or wait for permission to enter.

The look of worry on her face when she saw me quickly made me regret that, though. I don’t know what exactly happened after that, but I do remember breaking down crying, demanding to know who that stranger inside our house was who looked just like me; sobbing as my mom held me in her arms, completely overwhelmed.

I doubt that anything I told her had made sense. Even now, putting it into coherent sentences is anything but easy.

She must’ve thought that I had suffered a nervous breakdown. And honestly? After listening to her trying to soothe me for a while, hiding her pain behind calm and steady words, I believed that as well. At least momentarily.

Hearing her talk about me and “my twin”, our apparently shared childhood, and all the memories she clearly seemed to have that I lacked – all that assured me that I was losing my mind. Somehow, something must have happened to me and whatever that was must’ve caused me to fabricate a reality in which my twin didn’t exist.

It was a terrifying thought, but I didn’t see any sense in trying to justify my situation in any other way. I mean, someone who looks exactly like you showing up in your house one day who everyone, if asked, assures you is your twin with an irritated – or worse, pitiful – expression, acting like they’ve known this stranger for their whole life and that the very idea of questioning that is preposterous - that’s not something that just happens, right?!

Of course, I had only talked to my mom about it then, but that was enough to convince me.

I was trying and failing to grapple with my apparent madness when I saw it standing at the door, watching me and my mom - and on its face was that same artificial smile. It was mocking me; it found amusement in my despair.

That’s when I knew that I couldn’t possibly be crazy. Still, it took me way too long to find proof. And even that changed nothing. I should have come to you guys immediately, I suppose. Maybe it could’ve been stopped, then. Not that it matters now.

You know, I’ve never believed in the paranormal. No offence, but all those stories about ghost-sightings and demons or whatever always seemed like crazy talk to me. Most of it is, I think. But not this. Not this.

After it left again, I must’ve made up some excuses about not having slept in a few days and being dehydrated. That was a lie, of course, and not a very good one at that, but I wanted - needed - to get away from everyone.

I went to my room, or what I thought was my room. To my horror, where there had previously been an empty wall, there was now a second bed. It wasn’t a new one either, it looked like it had been there for years. And on it sat that thing pretending to be my twin.

Some part of me honestly considered just packing up my things and running away. Maybe I could’ve stayed with Charlie and Alex for a couple of days. In retrospect, I know that it was already too late for that. But even then, even when I didn’t know the amount of damage that thing had already done, I still had too much goddamn pride to admit defeat like that. Apart from that, I couldn’t just abandon my parents. Sure, my mom was convinced that whatever had invaded our house was her son, but that didn’t mean I would just leave her alone with it. So I stayed.

I did, however, manage to convince my parents to let me sleep in the attic. I don’t know how, really - what with my mom having witnessed that breakdown of mine, but after spitballing a story about “wanting to feel like I’m on an adventure”, they reluctantly agreed. If it hadn’t been for the fact that there was an imposter lurking in my now former room, I think it would’ve felt like a sleepover. A sleepover during which I was sure I was breathing in more dust than air, but a sleep-over nonetheless. Especially because I was barely able to get any sleep.

So, after what felt like hours of lying awake, I gave up and instead did what I could do: I started looking through the boxes we stored up there. It was, unsurprisingly but disappointingly nonetheless, mostly stuff my dad’s parents had owned before they passed away. We had kept most of it, even though I never understood why. I suppose it was nostalgia? It made me feel nostalgic, at least, made me think of all the summers spent in their backyard, playing football with my grandpa or watching birds with my grandma-

Anyway, I guess that doesn’t really matter now, does it? It doesn’t contribute anything to what I’m trying to tell you. I don’t know, it just felt good to talk about clear memories of the past. It’s all been getting so blurry as if it’s fading away from me.

I’m sorry, I’ll get back to it now. So, I looked through those boxes and found an old photo album. I’ll be honest, when I saw those printed out lies – hundreds of photos that showed me and this…thing, I nearly ripped it apart. But eventually, I stumbled across a Polaroid photo of me and my parents. My grandma had taken it way back, said she wanted to “capture some memories”. “Happy family” was written underneath it, in that neat handwriting of hers I had always admired. I burst into tears when I saw it.

We had taken multiple pictures that day and I knew that she had given one of them to me so I could put it into my diary. My diary. I had kept one back then, and if I could find it, if that thing had left it unaltered, that’d be all the proof I would need. And I found it!

It was all in there, all of the diary entries scribbled onto the pages in the scrawly handwriting of my younger self, all the dried flowers and leafs I had put into it, all of the stickers my mom had given to me, and, of course, the polaroid photo of my family and I. My grandparents, my parents and me. We had driven out to the beach and one of the nice people there had offered to take a picture with all of us in it. And all of was documented in blue ink on white paper. I fell asleep reading old diary entries, my face hurting from smiling too much.

But of course, my happiness didn’t last for very long. When I woke up the next morning I realised that while this was enough proof for me to know that I had been right all along and that I wasn’t losing my mind, it certainly wasn’t enough to convince anyone else.

My mom made me and “my brother” walk to the bus stop together. I didn’t have it in me to protest. We didn’t talk, I avoided looking at him as much as possible and for a second, I considered the possibility that maybe this wouldn’t be as bad as I’d feared it would be. I was, of course, proven wrong mere seconds later. When I looked at him briefly, his hair was completely black.

I immediately stopped walking. “Hey, is something wrong?” he asked me as if it didn’t know exactly what was wrong. “Your hair is black“, I stammered, and he had the audacity to laugh.

“Duh, so is yours!” And he…it was right. My hair had always been auburn. Its hair had been auburn yesterday!

This was all its fault, I knew that, and I was just to punch it in its face when I heard Charlie screaming at me to stop whatever I thought I was doing.

Alex pulled me away from “poor Ben”. “Ben” played along, played the victim. And the three of them left.

I will skip over the next couple of weeks for two reasons. The first one being that it’s getting harder and harder to remember all the details, and the second one, well, what I can remember hurts to think about. It hurts so much.

Naturally, Charlie and Alex had sided with the thing that called itself “Ben”. They had abandoned me. Every day when I drove to school, the three of them sat together and talked and laughed while I sat alone in the very back of the bus. They acted as if I didn’t exist.

Do you know what it feels like to helplessly watch as everyone around you starts to forget you? Teachers you’ve known for years not remembering your name, your friends forgetting the things you told them about yourself, acquaintances forgetting your existence? Waking up every day with the knowledge that with every passing hour whatever makes you “you” will fade away more and more and that there is nothing you can do about it?

But do you want to know what hurt the most? The final drop of water in my overflowing barrel of misery!? Coming home late one day, having my mom open the door and her not recognizing me. She smiled as she tore my heart into smithereens with her words: “Good evening. Who are you? Oh, of course, you must be a friend of my son. I’ll go get him!”

I stood there, frozen still until it stood right in front of me. Its lips twisted into that same, artificial smile that it had smiled the day it had invaded my life. And again, it said four words. “Oh. Who are you?”

That’s when I ran away and came to see you guys. It’s been…I don’t know…4 hours, maybe? I’m sitting in this room and no one is looking at me. I brought the photo with me, I suppose you guys can have it. I had kept it with me as some sort of proof that I was still sane, but it feels wrong to keep it. I feel as if the wind is blowing right through me and there isn’t even a window in this room. I don’t know what to do.

My name is M̴̭͔̓ä̴̮͜r̷̹͉͑̏s̶̱̈̚h̶̦̪͘a̷̬̠̕l̷͈̍̉l̵̺͆ ̴̱̱B̸̳̥̅ȱ̶̯͎l̷̜̇͘ṯ̶͝o̸͇̹͛n̷̢̙̂. And I’m ceasing to exist.

Statement ends.

This is an odd one, certainly. Especially since I see to immediately forget Mister…Bolton, was it? Yes, Marshal Bolton. I seem to immediately forget his name after I read it.

We’ve had statements before in which people have been replaced by supernatural entities – creatures we’ve come to refer to as the “Not Them”. This one is different, though – a “person”, if you want to call it that, inserting itself into someone’s life as someone new, instead of replacing someone else. Still, the statement giver seems to be the only one who was able to notice the change.

It’s quite common for the “Not Them” to toy with people’s memories and they have a history of altering photographs and voice-recordings. Polaroid photos, however, seem to be mostly unaffected. The Polaroid photo mister Bolton mentioned has been left with his statement – as he said. It shows a little boy with auburn hair, his parents and his grandparents at a beach.

I’ve asked Tim to look into this statement, and his research has shown no record of anyone called Marshal Bolton having lived near London around the year 2011. He did, however, find one “Benjamin Bolton”. And, as you would expect, he is an only child. Any follow-up requests have been ignored.

I would’ve been keen to brush this whole statement off as a bad joke, presumably by Benjamin who could have found this photograph and decided to make up a scary story about it. However, knowing as much about The Stranger as I do, I doubt that I’m that lucky. Nevertheless, this seems to be a dead end.

Recording Ends.

#tma #the magnus archives #the stranger #tma the stranger #the not them #my writing #tma original statement #the magnus archives original statement #fanfiction #jonathan sims #tim stoker #original character #tma fic #horror #horror fiction

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