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thethoughtsfromthreeam · 4 years

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Monument Woman

Pairing: Marcus Pike x OC (Rosemary Carter)

Warnings: None

A/N: God, I have been wanting to finish this story for weeks, but once we got out of quarantine, I lost all ambition to write. So, I’m glad I finally have enough of a cushion to get part 1 out to you guys. I won’t be following my old posting schedule, but I hope I don’t go so far between posts that you all forget about me!

Reminder: I ain’t ever seen Pedro Pascal in FUCK ALL, I’m just coming up with this as I go along, using imdb.com, wiki, and 84,000 tabs I got open to plan out this shit. I also write soft versions of his characters so if you’re craving asshole vibes, I ain’t got any but my own to offer.

Tag List:

@zeldasayer , @romanticgumchewer, @beskars , @coolmaybelateruniverse , @the-feckless-wonder , @pascalisthepunkest , @mandoandyodito , @randomness501 , @fioccodineveautunnale , @ahopelessromanticwritersworld [please message me to be added or subtracted]

Part 1 – And So We Begin

“Thank you for calling Fort Jamison Historical Museum, this is Rosemary. How can I help you?” The jaunty-sounding phrase rolled off her tongue automatically with little thought behind it until she heard the wizened chuckle on the other end.

“Do you always answer your cell phone like that?” She pinched the bridge of her nose and groaned as Robert Lancaster’s chuckle morphed into a hearty laugh. She couldn’t help but giggle along as she dropped her pencil and took off her glasses, setting them on the desk in front of her.

“You know, sometimes I do, especially when I’m not paying attention.” Rosemary leaned back into her chair, propping her feet up on the desk. Her free hand dropped down to fondle Banana’s ears as the dog snoozed next to her. “What’s up, Robert?”

“I’m doing some spring cleaning at the house and shop. I got quite a few boxes accumulated, including stuff I’d like to donate to the museum. When do you think you can come down to look through them? I don’t expect you to take them all, but there are a couple of items I want you to specifically have.” His voice sounded muffled over the phone as he bent down to toss another book into the Friends of the Library box.

“It’s a little slow this week,” she started as she checked the calendar on her wall. “Looks like I can come as early as tomorrow. So, if that works for you, I’ll bring the paperwork with me and we can just get it all done at once.”

“Oh, great! I was hoping you could come soon. It’s been a while since we had time to visit.” His smile was evident in his voice. “Can you do the paperwork on the computer?”

“Sure, we have the fillable PDFs.”

“Even better. Just bring your laptop and we’ll work on it as we go through everything. We can connect to the printer here and then you don’t have to worry about doing any of this at the office. By the way, do you think you’ll have time for lunch?”

“Robert, you know I always have time for you.” She smiled. They had been friends for ten years by that point and he never failed to ask the lunch or dinner question and she never failed to make time for him. Robert had been her first friend when she arrived in Michigan and the long-running friendship between the perpetual bachelor and the bold curator was stuff of area legend.

There had been speculation of a May-December romance between the two, but Robert saw the younger woman as the daughter he never had and on her part Rosemary saw Robert as the father figure she lost when her grandfather passed away.

“Want to do Phil’s or Coral Gables?” She smiled. Just as their dates were always guaranteed, she knew that their location was as well. But it was habit to ask and it never felt right if she didn’t.

“Why do you even ask the question? You know it’s supposed to be nice tomorrow, Coral Gables’ patio all the way.” The two chatted a bit longer before they hung up, returning to the rest of their respective duties. Rosemary sat up and Banana whined when she stopped petting him. Spoiled dog.

“Sorry, Baba. Work calls.” She stood up from her desk and wandered down the hall to the director’s office, knowing Helen was at her desk. The third floor of the museum was workspace for the staff and despite working there for so many years, Rosemary never failed to draw an appreciative breath at the stunning sight of the Kalamazoo River.

As she ambled down the hall, Banana’s nails clicked on the tile floor, hinting that she wasn’t alone on her journey. She smiled as she waved her hand and the dog rushed to her side. The two slowly walked to the director’s office, warming themselves in the afternoon sun that poured through the windows.

Rosemary heard the muttering first as she rounded the corner and entered the office. The stout woman was hunched over her laptop, her salt and pepper pixie cut sticking up everywhere. Whatever she was working on, it was stressing her out. Helen always pulled at her short strands when she was concentrating hard.

Smiling, Helen’s head jerked up as Rosemary knocked on the door. The older woman waved her curator into the office and leaned back. As she stretched, both women could hear a series of loud pops and they started to giggle.

“Ugh, I am getting too old to sit like this. I need a massage.” Helen groaned as yet another loud pop emitted from her shoulder. As Banana scooched under the desk to get scritches from Helen, Rosemary plopped down in one of the armchairs and it creaked in complaint. “Do you have to sit so hard? Those are collection pieces, you know.”

“Not anymore. I deaccessioned them last week into the decorative collection. Donor approved, mind you. So, we can sit in these however we want.” Rosemary grinned as she threw a leg over the arm of the ornate chair. For being so ugly, it was comfortable and not for the first time, she wondered if she could move them to her office without Helen noticing.

“That may be, but it’s not like we have money to fix something you broke because you were being too careless.” Helen raised her eyebrow and Rosemary sat back up in the chair like normal, having the courtesy to look chagrined. The director sat back.

“So, what do you need? Are you still having issues with that Gaylord order?”

“Naw, I talked to them last week, they shipped it out yesterday. Finally.” She rolled her eyes. “Robert Lancaster called me just a bit ago, wanting to donate some items to the museum. I got the time, so I’ll head to Saugatuck tomorrow to handle it.”

“Well, I know Robert is quite the collector, but do you think there are things we’ll want? I’m hard pressed to start accepting any old thing again after we finally got the collections cleared up and decluttered. I know he’s a long-time supporter of the museum, but I don’t know if I can take another ugly piece of furniture with a smile.” Rosemary laughed at the comment.

“To his credit, he said there were things we probably wouldn’t want, and I doubt he’ll be sad if I said no to some things. I certainly want to see what books he’s got for us. We have a few things in the library that probably need to be rotated out into archives for their own protection.

“Besides, I am not going to pass up a chance to swoop in and yank the rug out from underneath Saugatuck. You know that. Watching Fred get mad that I got the leg up on him adds ten years to my life.” Rosemary rubbed her hands gleefully, a glint of mischief in her eyes.

“You really hate him, don’t you?” Helen laughed. Lake Michigan History Center was a charming coastal museum, but everyone agreed their curator was a bit odd. Rosemary took an instant dislike to the man when she came on Fort Jamison’s staff and over the years, their dislike turned into a mutual hatred. Like her friendship with Robert, everyone knew Fred was Rosemary’s mortal enemy and vice versa.

“God, yes! Helen, he’s a dick and greedy as hell. I don’t trust him any further than I can toss his skinny ass. I am still pissed over the diary! Mrs. Greenwich assured me that we were getting it and he slithered into the village last year and took it!” Rosemary’s voice got louder. “THAT DAMN DIARY HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH SAUGATUCK, LET ALONE MENTIONS IT!”

Helen laughed harder while raising her hands in surrender and her curator stopped herself before she got too carried away. Rosemary cleared her throat and drew a deep breath. Ugh, he always managed to get her riled up even when he wasn’t around. Damn Fred.

“Sorry, sorry. I shouldn’t let him get me so mad, but god. I hate him so much! So, if Robert Lancaster’s got something that would make Fred die with envy, then by god, I’m gonna bring it home.”

“Alright. I trust you as usual. But since you’re here, I want to go over a couple of things with you for this grant so I can get it out Friday.”

The two women moved on to other things and fell into discussion about the future of projects for the museum and how to fund them.

---***---

“Cripes.”

The word was accompanied by a deep groan. Agent Marcus Pike sat back in his chair to rub his eyes for the third time in less than an hour. Some intern had dumped four boxes of case files in his office and was coming back with four more. And the intern was certain there was another half dozen.

When three art pieces were stolen in Canada last year, Pike had been notified as a courtesy from his Canadian counterparts. Which in and of itself wasn’t unusual, but the notes from the agents there stood out to Pike and he realized that the details match another case he had worked on earlier in the year. And further digging uncovered almost three dozen cases dating back almost thirty years that carried all the hallmarks of this most recent one. And more importantly – they were all still open.

He had taken his concerns and theories to the Art Squad chief, Agent Maria Luisa Armand, and with her blessing, assembled a crew to explore these cold cases. Maybe with new technology and eyes, they’d get the lead to solve them all.

The dull throbbing behind his eyes seemed to get worse and he leaned further back in his chair, trying to do some breathing exercises to reduce the pressure. He let his eyes go unfocused, letting the colored light reflected on his ceiling go blurry. The stained glass propped up in his office window had been a bit of an indulgence for him, but Pike never regretted the purchase and, in that moment, the colored streaks help bring some sense of zen that he needed.

A knock on his door forced him out of his zone and he sat up to see his partner, Brenda Carmichael, waiting at the door. He smiled when he saw her and she returned the gesture, coming in to sit in one of the chairs. The two had been partners for six years and together they had solved dozens of cases and thwarted twice as much.

“Do we have a plan, Carmichael?”

“Yep. Someone is coming to get these boxes and take them to Conference D, which I commandeered.”

“How did you do that?”

“Threatened to tell Harrison’s wife that he was spending big cash on that escort he’s seeing.”

“Ouch, a little low, don’t you think?” Pike laughed.

“God no. Harrison doesn’t ever play nice, so you can’t do it with him.” She waived her hand and laughed, her tightly coiled hair bouncing as if it was laughing, too. “Anyway, three junior agents are on the job currently preparing to create the timeline and pulling all the files. Two more are working to create point of contact lists for witnesses and such. And finally, I think Armand is putting on the coffee.”

“So where does that leave you and me?” He didn’t think he’d get such a big crew to do this. Must be a slow day in other departments. “I want Fitzbender on the NSAF search and follow up, though, before I forget.

“That’s fine. And we supervise.”

“That’s it?”

“That’s it for now. Until we have more material to work with. So up off your duff and let’s get going.”

Pike smiled as he pulled himself out of his chair, grabbing his jacket and gesturing to Carmichael to leave first. If they could solve these cases, it would be the biggest win in the Art Squad’s recent history and Pike really wanted to bring those pieces home where they belonged.

---***----

“Robert, you know I love you, but you have some ugly stuff here.” Rosemary’s nose wrinkled at the stuffed monkey with murderous eyes staring at her from a box. The only place that creepy thing was going was in the garbage. She moved on to another open box, pawing through the items that were housed there, pulling out a couple of potentials.

“Yeah, well no accounting for taste, I guess.” Robert groaned as he leaned over and pulled open another box. He thought he had labelled all of them for the museum, but he realized three of them got mixed up in the junk pile. “God, how did I miss all these boxes. I’m sorry Rosie, I am usually better organized.”

“It’s not a problem, Robert.” Rosemary walked over with the contents of yet another box, a bounce in her step as she realized she snagged a two-hundred-year-old map of the area that Fred would have murdered her to get for himself. Her grin was almost feral at the idea that she one upped the old bastard. “Hey, question.”

“What?” Robert had moved on to a small box on his desk that had a post-it with Rosemary’s name on it.

“What’s with all the cleaning and giving away all of a sudden? The house wasn’t like this when I visited two months ago.” She wiped the sweat off her brow and turned to look at him. He was quiet and she took a moment to really look at him.

She knew from long talks that Robert had been living in the Saugatuck area since the 1990s. He had come from Chicago, declaring he needed a slower pace and his bookstore was a welcomed addition to the downtown area. He was highly philanthropic to causes he loved, like the Fort Jamison museum.

After her Pops passed away several years ago, she seemed to lean even more into Robert to fill the empty void and he did so gladly. As she watched him shuffle about, she grew concerned because he looked more frail than usual. The man had always been on the thin side, but he looked scarily thin and a thought skittered through her mind that sent a wave of sadness through her.

“Robert, are you sick?” There was no hiding the sadness in Rosemary’s voice. When he stopped and hesitated, she didn’t need a verbal answer from him. She walked over from where she was standing and placed her hand on his shoulder, turning him around. “Robert.”

He bowed his head and wrapped his arms around the younger woman as tight as he could, and she did the same. He began to cry on her shoulder, and it startled her, causing tears to form in her eyes. She silently rubbed his back in comforting circles as sobs wracked Robert’s body. They stood there a long time before he quieted down, but even then, Rosemary refused to let him go, hugging him close to her.

He was her friend and she loved him dearly, so if he were dying, it would devastate her. Robert made a move to pull back and she reluctantly let him go but held onto his arms with her hands to keep him close. His red-rimmed eyes crushed the broken pieces of her heart. He sighed.

“Rosie.” He took a deep breath. “I met with my doctor last week and I have stage four pancreatic cancer. He only gave me a few months to live.”

“Oh Robert.” The tears started up again and she threw her arms around him. They cried together a second time and the sadness enveloped them. As she held him close, her tears made her voice rough. “That’s what spurred this on, isn’t it?”

“Yes. But you’re the only one to know right now. I didn’t want to tell anyone else until you knew.”

“What do you need me to do?”

“Well, for starters, this hug is pretty good.” He chuckled a little bit. “And get some of this stuff out of my house. And then just be my friend until the end.”

“Always.” She pulled back to look at him. “But it will be a cold day in hell before that ugly ass monkey comes with me.”

The tension and sadness were broken, letting them laugh a bit through their tears. They stepped apart and let themselves smile at each other.

“Let’s get lunch and come back to this stuff later. It’s too nice of a day to miss out on the patio.”

#Agent Marcus Pike #marcus pike x reader #marcus pike x oc #Pedro Pascal #pedro pascal x reader #fanfic #the mentalist

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steve0discusses · 4 years

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Yugioh S4 Ep 25: Oh Hai Mai

Heyyy we’re back. Thank for bearing with me, it’s been kind of chaos over here. Everything from a pandemic (we are very sloooowly reopening over here but I’ve been quarantined so long I can french braid my damn leg hair.) to important political protests, to getting an evacuation order because an arsonist burned down 90 acres in the heat of summer (luckily we’re all fine), to a vole that ate everything in my pandemic self-care garden so I lost my entire mind and waged war and dug so many holes and put out 17 mouse traps and set off so many critter bombs under the ground trying to kill the little bastard like it was Caddyshack (It’s still alive, ps, I lost that war). These last 3 months have been the longest decades of my life. The only month longer was the one where I’m pretty sure I had mono and it made me positive that my basement was haunted.

Man, bring back my haunted basement, Sorry if this comes through in my writing, I tried but, I can’t edit it out. You get FML-Rachel today.

Lets get back to a good, mindless distraction, lets turn on Yugioh.

BUT------->it just so happens that this episode of Yugioh has cop stuff in it, I’m just going to be blunt. We’re going into Valon’s backstory, he’s very much a victim of problems within the bizarre Yugioh legal system, and much like a Gotham supervillain, he is a symptom of the problem more than the cause.

I’m not going to ignore that, but in case you are overwhelmed about that right now, if you want to like...save this for later--I have another FMA recap coming out soon that I wrote in a simpler time before....the corona freakin ruined us all.

Last we left off, we were on the heels of Joey Wheeler, who decided to book it down the street because he wants to murder the hell out of Valon.

Youknow...Joey is one hell of a protagonist. He just does...so MANY antagonistic things.

Joey has decided that although the world is ending, and everyone left alive will be absorbed into the Great Leviathon’s big yummy tummy, which can only be prevented by three people, of which he is one of--he’s going to go sprint in completely the other direction.

We even managed to get Kaiba on board. We were ready. We were done, but then Joey had to lose his freakin mind because that’s just what Joey Wheeler does sometimes.

Normally heroes avoid the call to duty because of a severe lack of self confidence, but this is Joey, and he’s going to avoid the call to duty because of too much self confidence.

And so Joey and his Chaperone turn a corner and walk into this random orc who’s just casually living his best life and touring SF.

One of my worst fears walking through SF, tbh. Running into high school people. Not so much the orcs.

Yo, I wonder what the bushman was doing through all of this? So IRL, we have this guy who just...hides in a bush and jump-scares tourists. I can’t imagine what it must be like to be in a bush and then just...all these orcs show up and you’re all.

...oh no, now I’m the fool...

I just want to know if bushman made it, or if he’s in a paper card that’s just a picture of foliage.

(read more under the cut)

Anyway, Joey was already in the process of running, so they just turned around on this street of...so much parking.

Like y’all there is SO MUCH PARKING this episode. I was trying to pay attention to anything else, but like...do you see this!? It takes nearly half an hour usually to get a spot but this--this right here?

And the crazy thing is, recently my bro had to go pick up some old guy from a cruise that...got quarantined...and so bro had to go the Pier and like--this is what the city looked like. This is a pandemic, it’s just lots of parking, so I want to criticize Yugioh, and I normally would, but I can’t. I’ve seen the receipts. They called it. This is what the endtimes look like and it’s so much parking.

Also, they were too lazy to draw cars but damn, they called it.

So, left with no other option, Joey decides to...be Joey, and punches a huge orc covered in armor.

So Valon’s here, because apparently SF has just...no one left alive in it except for these few kids and that one Uber Eats driver. I imagine it’s a lot easier to find Joey if you just follow the only one screaming in Japanese in a Brooklyn accent at the top of his lungs.

And Valon decides that this one way street isn’t good enough, and that they must duel somewhere else.

I assumed it would be a tall structure, but considering Kaiba just blew up the tallest structures in the Financial District...I was like...what else is tall? And bear in mind, I’m a mess, so I was like...OMG I wish it were Macy’s!!!

Now I hear you saying that’s weird, and we shouldn’t have a very fancy Macy’s in 2020, and you’re correct. but we still have one, and the top floor is just...a massive Cheesecake factory, and I can’t think of anything more 00′s than a Yugioh duel on top of that specific Cheesecake Factory.

And I’ve never really thought before about where the best Yugioh duel would be, and it’s there. It’s at the high rise Cheesecake. Listen Yugioh, if you need an insider to choose locations for your Netflix remake of S4--call me.

So anyways, instead of doing the right thing and going to the Cheesecake Factory on top of Macy’s like any other self respecting 00′s teenager, Valon and Joey are going to drive through the most boring parts of town.

They had an opportunity to go chase eachother through any tourist attraction, Lombard street, Ghirardelli Square, the Palace of Fine Arts, China town, reuse some assets and drive through Japan town, that fountain that looks like Yoda--but no...they decided to drive through literal trash.

Just...a missed opportunity, and it should have been a Cheesecake Factory.

Also, I totally and fully acknowledge that a strange nostalgic affection for the Cheesecake Factory is a weird Millennial thing (much like our weird encyclopedic knowledge of Sailor Moon) but listen. You have your thing, too. You go do you, I’m gonna soak my sorrows in a bowl of Chinese chicken salad so wide, it’ll last me 3 days.

Anyways, Joey’s gonna steal that guy’s bike.

Yugioh just predicting the future in 2003. We actually have a HUGE problem right now with vehicle theft in the city to an almost comedic degree, which is partly why the parking situation has gotten so incredibly dire. It’s kind of incredible that this guy left his bike out because after about 1 day in the city you learn pretty fast that you need to be constantly checking on your street parked vehicle--I mean, that guy was just asking for it, honestly. If Joey hadn’t taken it, some other guy would have absolutely taken it, (even that orc would’ve taken it, the city has no consideration for cars.)

Sorry --one sec-- that was an earthquake just now. As I’m typing this. Just a little guy. Just a little treat for me...

...but still like...c’mon. I’m also getting this weird issue where Tumblr doesn’t save my drafts so like...this is like the 3rd time I’ve had to write this like...I just want to make a Yugioh post for my tiny funtime tv blog, Universe. Don’t @ me right now, Universe.

SO MUCH FREAKIN PARKING.

...is it the space between two piers? What is this? We don’t have rivers in SF, it is a peninsula covered in very steep hills. Like very VERY steep hills. All water just rolls into the ocean and there’s a couple of lake thingies but...no rivers that I know of (And like maybe this is a thing, and I just haven’t seen it? Learn something new every day.)

*loud, audible sigh* home. Where we belong. At the warehousssssssse.

Back at the RV base, Duke Devlin is still babysitting. Maybe this is to make up for the two seasons he spent trying to date a girl Rebecca’s age, that they felt like going out of their way to show that he has indeed no longer horny now. Got to hand it to them, that’s a lot of character development right there. Although at the same time, it has made Duke Devlin a very non-character.

But imagine how insanely complicated would it have been if Duke got involved in that bizarre love-square that is Yugi, Tea, and the Ghost that killed Yugi by accident.

PS that’s either a freeway onramp (which is too far South from where they were, I think) or it sure does look like old Embarcadero behind them. Youknow, that lifted street from the 80′s that fell down in Loma Prieta and was never rebuilt? I just freakin love that it’s still here in 2003. This bizarre Yugioh alternate California.

Anyway, because this is alternate California, Seto set a massive fire and the entire city didn’t immediately go up in flames. Apparently they just kinda ran away from the explosion and damage before anyone noticed.

Probably because most people on Earth are dead anyway, so what more can these two actually do?

And so Yami ends up getting lectured by the wife.

And justifiably, the wife seems to have absolutely no confidence that Yami will be able to do a damn thing right.

Wifes all around this episode.

Speaking of,

At this point, Arthur Hawkins senses that Yami’s nearby, so he opens the door just to freakin dump some guilt on him.

...Rebecca seems to be a character that’s mostly there to recap the lore and also to dump on Yami. I don’t mind that. Yami needs to get dunked more often, and I’m saying that in S4, where the entire season’s tagline is “how many times can we dunk on Yami?”

So lets check on Yugi, how’s that kid doing? It’s been quite a number of episodes since we last saw him.

Yep, still hanging out in the Han Solo cosplay room.

And then, because I guess everyone is just hanging out in the same 4 blocks, Mai and Tristan have a heart-to-heart.

In the show, this conversation was Mai (who is now a serial killer) saying “Oh hey, Tristan, where’s Joey?” and Tristan saying “It’s ALL YOUR FAULT he wants to kill Valon--thanks a lot, Mai! GODS!” all indignant like.

Not how you would ordinarily talk to a serial killer, just saying. No one from the Yugi crew fears this woman...at all...and she has killed over 20 people in front of them and is trying very hard to kill Joey Wheeler all the time.

Like what would it actually take for them to fear this woman? They can’t, right?

Meanwhile, Valon is trying to explain to Joey that his obsession with Mai is in fact damaging any relationship they could have had.

So then when you’re like OK...this is actually very valid points on Valon’s part, and Joey really does need to step back and let people make their mistakes considering Joey was barely a part of her life to begin with. But then, Valon just turns a 180 and...it becomes a catty love triangle where only one person in the triangle even feels romantic emotions.

I just...so Valon is doing this fight because he thinks Mai is in love with Joey.

This whole time I was like “well maybe it’s more that Valon is trying to defend Mai’s right to make her own choices” but no...he just straight up thinks Mai is in love with Joey. And, in fighting Joey, Valon himself is ignoring Mai’s life choices

Just a whole lot of misunderstanding that would have been fixed with better ways than dueling with cards. At least that one guy in S2 who tried to marry Mai actually dueled HER instead of some random guy.

It just really feels like these boys are having a pissing contest and Mai was never let in on the deets that this was even happening.

Mai needs to hang out with older men. Set her up with Roland, this is ridiculous.

Back at the RV, which got very, very big in this shot, Seto has an odd convo with Mokuba about how they are probably not going to get Kaiba Corp back. And then no one really argued with him about that.

He’s taking it really well. Maybe because this isn’t even the first time or the second time or even really the third time Seto’s lost everything. Kid’s really freakin great at failure. At least this time Mokuba isn’t currently abducted, which is really good improvement for these two.

Outside the RV, Tristan has decided to...give up as well, just right here, in the middle of traffic. Then he gets Orc’d...these orcs are kind of like Slenderman, in that they kinda...show up...but then that’s all they do because the designers didn’t actually want to animate anything.

And then this happens.

God bless this story boarder for this random series of events presented in just this way.

Also here’s yet another example where Tea just has...no fear. She’s actually only out here because she was like “that’s it, we’re getting another driver” and was going to chew out Duke Devlin. The Orc being in the middle of the road was not the reason she walked out here.

Anyways, Yami killed it because everyone here can just throw cards forever, these things are not threatening.

The subplot of everyone refusing to drive with Duke Devlin after he busted his car in Death Valley is still ongoing, and it’s still low key hilarious that no one will outright say “Duke, your driving is just so bad” and instead, Duke just has to sit there and watch Joey STEAL A MOTORCYCLE just so he won’t have to drive shotgun with Duke Devlin.

Rebecca, our plot-dump device, then informs us that Valon has Special Rules.

Because Valon, if you’ve forgotten, has a card that allows him to physically punch his opponent in the face.

They should have invented that card a long time ago TBH.

SO, lets get into Valons tragic backstory. First off, go turn on your Les Mis Soundtrack, because this is some old school cop stuff.

So apparently Valon, as a child just...stayed in the system forever. We don’t know why yet, but lets just assume that it’s tragic and heavy handed. If he steals a loaf of bread and ends up in 12 Juvies (which is a line from the show and not an exaggeration--12 Juvies) then I will expect him to be singing by the end of this and I will be very disappointed if he does not.

Anyways, he was such an asshole, that he caught the attention of some very illegal rich bastard who was trying to turn prisoners into...card murders. (it was Dartz.) because apparently...Dartz also funds prisons and that is...that is some deep lore.

And so probably about the same time that Yugi was Dueling to the death on Pegasus’ Island, and about the same time that Marik was hanging out in the ocean next to Pegasus’ Island with a pair of binoculars, and about the same time that Noah was underneath Pegasus’ Island just watching Pegasus steal KaibaCorp, Dartz decided to make his OWN murder island--because I guess he got jealous.

Anyway, Valon won, and didn’t even need to set anyone on fire.

Those little green things there--those are all souls of prison inmates.

YUGIOH.

Millennials got DARK, OK? Freakin...we had a show for 9 year olds that went deep into the school-to-prison pipeline and didn’t even try to hide it under any layers of symbolism. Like Hunger Games at least had two people survive.

This was a show to sell PAPER CARDS.

+++++++++++THIS IS A RANT WHERE I WENT OFF ABOUT PRISON TALK IN KID’S SHOWS FEEL FREE TO SKIP++++++++++++++++++++

Now, there’s a lot of good conversation going on right now about errors in the modern justice system on not just a local scale, but on a global scale, especially regarding racial profiling and criminalization of poor, sick, and young, and we better keep pushing it. But it’s surprising when people pretend like this hasn’t been talked about for a long time. Because...we’ve been talking about it in kids and YA shows for a long time. This is not something that just popped up in 2020.

Like millennials didn’t invent this obsession with dark and gritty stories with uncomfortable themes. It’s been around for thousands of years, but back in the 90′s and 00′s, a lot of shows for YA and younger enjoyed talking about the problems with prisons and abuse of power with our justice systems--a lot. Batman, X-men, Death Note, so so many, hell, even the OC.

And like, don’t get me wrong, we still have these shows running around, but I’ve been there’s been a trend of stories (not saying names) where just...nothing bad happens. And, that’s kind of sad because...they CAN have small elements that are more progressive in them, but only brought forth with a very risk-free cotton candy fluffy coating to make the majority of the population happy.

I could go long about this, and I’m getting very cryptic. If a kid escapes to more colorful worlds where nothing bad ever happens, that’s OK--sometimes you need that, but when nothing bad ever happens surrounding certain experiences where bad things normally happen--the meaning of the story changes because it isn’t a real experience anymore.

Like I don’t want to tangent too much, and I just had to delete a lot of examples, but I know a lot of people want to write stories about misrepresented minorities and about real deal serious situations and are just so afraid of misrepresentation that they go in completely the wrong direction by not putting in anything uncomfortable at all. I think it’s important to look at the work and ask yourself is this about the minority the work should be about--or is this work about patting the majority of the population on the back and saying neat, we’ve achieved utopia without having to even do anything?

...anyway, obvi I’m ranting, but I feel like we’re taking a step backwards when it comes to the importance of kids programming and that we do need to talk to kids about prison again. This is a show about paper cards, and they don’t do a great job at talking about...the reality of prison, this was exaggerated with genre stereotypes, but at least they didn’t cover it with rainbows and unicorns, because this isn’t about how great Joey and the “normal” people are at saving Valon, this is about how society screwed Valon beyond repair, and I am 99% certain we will see this guy’s soul stuffed in a brick above Dartz’ snake fireplace.

Like, yeah he duels to the death on an island, but that’s imagery that is very close to real life prison issues. We don’t talk to kids a lot about how a lot of inmates get enlisted into the military during war times (and quite literally...duel to their death...on islands). We don’t talk about how we use inmates to betray eachother for a chance at maybe getting amnesty. We don’t talk about how a lot of the victims of this system are essentially children, and have been caught in a system of endless prison for what will probably be the rest of their lives. We don’t talk about how we’re systematically turning kids into criminals so much in kid’s shows of late...and Freakin Yugioh just did in a filler season.

....................I think our standard for modern kids programming to talk about serious issues is way too low if Yugioh just threw this out there in a filler season, is all I’m saying.

++++++++++++++++++END OF PRISON RANT++++++++++++++++++++++

So, Valon is free but...is he?

Not really, he’s just gone from one jailer to another, but at least this time he gets his own room. Don’t blame him for latching onto Dartz’ dream to end the world, because the world for him has been one behind bars. He doesn’t know it. Never been there.

It’s just interesting juxtaposed to Joey because Joey had some sort of Season Zero history with a gang and I haven’t watched that episode yet.

So that’s it for now, again, I’m very slooow lately. I slept for 3 hours today...and I don’t know why. But hey--we all got through three (four???) months of this...we just gotta go...one month at a time.

That and I accidentally did my taxes early so there’s that. See? Good things still happen.

Also, because I only slightly referenced the most incredible movie ever made on San Fransisco soil, I’ll just leave this here. The true hallmark of our city.

youtube

Anyway you know the drill, here’s the link

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beckzorz · 5 years

Text

Out of Nowhere (15/21)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes/OFC Summary: An offhand comment at work draws Jesse Kaplan into the orbit of Bucky Barnes. Bucky’s excited at the prospect of normalcy, but there’s nothing normal about falling in love with the Winter Soldier. Words: 3718 A/N: The song for this chapter is “Ain’t Misbehavin’ - 2016 Mono Remaster” by Ray Charles on The Atlantic Studio Albums in Mono (Remastered).

PART 15: “AIN’T MISBEHAVIN’”

The two-hour drive north to the safehouse passed in silence. Natasha spent the bulk of the time frowning at her smartphone. Jesse pressed her forehead against the tinted window and dozed straight through sunrise.

Only once they pulled off the freeway did Natasha slide her phone back in her pocket with a sigh.

“Jesse.”

Jesse rubbed her sore neck. “Hm?”

“Once we get to the house, I’ll want to talk to you about what happened with Current Relief,” Natasha said. Her eyes were wide, mouth serious. “Is that okay?”

“About what happened last night?”

“That too. But I really wanted to hear what you went through.”

Jesse flinched. She pulled up her feet and wrapped an arm around her knees. “I told Bucky…”

“I know,” Natasha said soothingly. “He told me some of it when he first found out. I just want to hear it straight from you. Things can get lost in translation.”

“What, were you speaking in Russian?” Jesse pursed her lips. Natasha blinked; a smirk ghosted over her features.

“No,” she said. “But still. You had some time to rest. Think you’re good to talk? It’ll help us make sense of all the data. And talking things over can help.” She sighed. “To a degree, anyway. It’s better than not talking.”

Jesse turned to stare back out of the window, her cheek pressed against her knee. She hadn’t been able to talk about any of it with Bucky. She hadn’t wanted him to see her at her worst. Better to have written it out.

Jesse bit her tongue to keep from swearing. She should’ve brought the notebook with her.

But Natasha wasn’t Bucky. Maybe with a stranger, it wouldn’t be so hard to keep her cool. And if she did get all panicked, at least it wasn’t Bucky seeing her fall apart.

“Yeah. Yeah. Sure.”

“Thank you, Jesse,” Natasha murmured. She reached out and gently squeezed Jesse’s shoulder.

Wherever they were, it was disgustingly suburban—exurban, even. This was the sort of place people went when they had a flock of kids and a flock of dogs. They turned off onto an even more remote road. Sparse woods grew thicker as they wound along, reaching up into the dull blue sky.

“I don’t know how people live out here,” Jesse muttered.

“They have cars and they enjoy open space,” Natasha answered. “This is nothing. I know someone who lives on a farm. With a tractor.”

Jesse’s lips twitched. “How quaint.”

The car pulled up to a house at the end of the paved part of a narrow road in sparse woods. The road continued on into the trees as just gravel and dirt. Jesse stared at the two-story house. Big yard, shuttered windows. Dilapidated detached garage. The place looked semi-abandoned. There was no sign of life. Natasha opened her door, but Jesse paused.

“How is this place safer, exactly?” Jesse asked. “It looks like anyone could just… waltz on over.”

“It’s more secure than it looks,” Natasha said with a roll of her eyes. “Come on.”

Jesse sighed. “At least Bucky’s place had a doorman,” she grumbled, but she clambered out with her backpack and trailed after Natasha the weedy path to the front door. Behind them, the car peeled away.

Natasha didn’t put a key in the front door. She didn’t even ring the doorbell. Instead, she lifted the whole doorbell up off the wall and pressed her fingers in rapid succession over a tiny electronic pad. Jesse stared as a red light turned green and the door whirred, clicked, and swung open.

“Welcome to your safehouse, Jesse,” Natasha intoned. She led the way inside; Jesse shut her gaping mouth and followed.

Despite the unlived-in exterior, the inside was neat. Painfully neat, to Jesse’s eye. There was a garland of fake flowers hanging in the front hall, but without any hint of dust among the leaves or on the floor.

It all reminded her of the freaky neatness of her own room when she’d been brainwashed. Did the beds in here have hospital corners? She wouldn’t be surprised.

“That’s the way up,” Natasha said, pointing towards a staircase. “Don’t open this door. It’s locked, anyway.” She patted on what Jesse assumed was the basement door.

“What’s down there?” Jesse asked.

Natasha raised her eyebrows and looked Jesse over from head to toe. “Skeletons,” she deadpanned.

“Er—right.” Jesse bared her teeth in a makeshift smile and didn’t press the issue. She could just imagine a creepy SHIELD control center, with a hidden prison and a swivel chair in a dark room, surrounded by hissing monitors…

Jesse hurried after Natasha, who circled through the ground-level rooms at a sharp clip.

“Kitchen, pantry, living room,” Natasha rattled off. “Bathroom down here is off the kitchen. There’s an enclosed porch you can use through here. The hammock is nice. Just don’t open the blinds.”

“What can I do?”

“I’ll show you to your room, and you can put your stuff away.” Natasha paused on the bottom stair and caught Jesse’s eye. “You can keep yourself busy, right?”

“Of course,” Jesse said, eyebrows raised.

“Good.” Natasha climbed up the stairs two at a time, but her steps were almost silent. Jesse felt like an elephant in comparison, but then again, did she need to step lightly here? This wasn’t Current Relief.

“And here’s your room.” Natasha pushed open a door right by the top of the stairs. “Make yourself at home. Bathroom’s right there. I’ll be downstairs when you’re ready.” She disappeared downstairs, leaving Jesse alone.

Jesse rubbed the back of her neck and inched into the bedroom. It was small, smaller than most bedrooms she’d seen even in the city, with just one narrow dresser and a nightstand by the full bed. She glanced to the hallway with raised eyebrows. Even her bed was bigger than that. Like at Bucky’s place, both windows were covered. In a way, the soft lighting and red bedspread felt familiar. Safe. Maybe the same person decorated both places.

But there was no art on the walls. No Cyrillic poetry, not posters. No trace of Bucky, nor anyone else.

Jesse dumped her backpack on the bed and rummaged through her clothes. Everything was wrinkled, even the jeans. She spread them across the bedspread. Her fingers lingered on the smooth pillow.

How many people had been here? Was she the first in a while, or just the latest in a long line of helpless civilians caught up in something too big for them?

She climbed onto the bed and fell on her side, exhaustion seeping over her like a wet blanket. Was this the price for knowing Bucky?

Bucky.

Jesse curled up and hugged her hollow chest. Bucky, Bucky, Bucky—she couldn’t stop thinking about him. Everything circled back to him. The bedspread, the blank walls, her own damn aching heart. How long was she going to be caught in this spiral?

She wished she’d had the guts to just tell him before Natasha had dragged her off to the middle of nowhere. This would have been a great place to sob herself to sleep over a predictable rejection. Secluded, surrounded by strangers who didn’t give a shit about her… No chance of seeing Bucky by accident.

I’m such a coward.

Jesse’s heart wrenched a muffled cry from her throat. She clamped a hand over her mouth and took quick breaths to stifle her sobs. He’d never denied her a thing, yet here she was, drowning in misery. Sure, she could dream up a scenario that ended with him holding her, smiling, his lips on hers… But that would only ever be a dream. Add in even a drop of logic, and that dream was fool’s gold.

Bucky Barnes had better things to do than be with her, and she needed to get used to it.

Jesse dragged herself out of bed and made her way to the bathroom. She stared at herself in the mirror. Well, she looked like shit. Bloodshot eyes, red nose, pale mouth. The lingering bloodstain on her blue dress made her wince; was there a laundry here somewhere? She’d have to ask.

Cold water helped with her face, but she was sure Natasha would see right through it. And she was right—as soon as she made it downstairs to the kitchen, Natasha looked up from her laptop and frowned.

“Were you crying?” Natasha asked.

Jesse looked away and nodded. She slid into the seat across from Natasha and knotted her fingers together in her lap where Natasha couldn’t see. “Sorry.”

“For christ’s—” Natasha cut herself off and stilled with effort. “Jesse. You do not need to apologize. This is not a fun spot to be in. You are allowed to have feelings about that.”

Am I, though?

Feelings, sure. Today, Jesse felt like a slave to her feelings. But expressing them? With Bucky off-limits and out of reach plus her own detestation of making a fool of herself, Jesse really didn’t think she wanted to. She screwed her mouth into as much of a smile as she could muster and finally met Natasha’s eye. “Thanks, I guess.”

“Good. Anyway,” Natasha continued, clearly glad to have gotten that out of the way and already back to typing, “I want you to know what’s going to happen here. We have people contacting your place of work and the local police, and we’ll keep you posted as needed. You’ll need to stay inside at all times. Once a week, someone will do a grocery run for the house, so write down what you’ll need for yourself. And there will always be an agent on-duty here. For now, that’s me.”

“How long are you going to be here?” Jesse asked, heart sinking.

“Another agent will be coming to relieve me tomorrow.” Natasha finished typing and glanced up. Something of Jesse’s feelings must have shown on her face, because Natasha sighed and closed her laptop. “You’ll be in good hands, no need to worry.”

Jesse bit her lip. How could she help but worry? This morning, she’d been safe at Bucky’s, safe with Bucky. Then Natasha had whisked her out to the middle of nowhere, and now she was going to be stuck here with a total stranger? Not that Natasha was a friend, but at least Jesse had met her before. She had Bucky’s approval. But Jesse wasn’t sure that the associative property applied here. Sure, Bucky trusted Natasha… but that didn’t mean he’d automatically trust anyone Natasha did.

“Do you know who’s coming next?” she asked.

“Richard Rensselaer. He’s worked with SHIELD for six years. He’s competent. Not particularly sociable, but very competent,” Natasha rattled off.

“So… a guy,” Jesse said.

Natasha raised her eyebrows and folded her hands together. “We can’t just reassign people at the drop of a hat. Besides, you stayed with Bucky.”

“Yeah…” Jesse squirmed in her seat as Natasha stared her down with the intensity of a thousand suns. “But I know him!” Jesse blurted.

“Hm,” Natasha said. She opened her computer, eyes still fixed on Jesse’s, and only after some stuttered typing did she glance down. “Not for very long. He told me all this started when you met—or because of it, anyway. Tell me.”

“Well, I don’t know when it all started,” Jesse said slowly. “We met at the Stark Foundation benefit… I guess three Sundays ago?”

Natasha nodded.

“I had to cover my coworker, who broke her ankle, and Bucky asked me to dance.” The sudden memory of being caught up in his arms brought warmth to Jesse’s cheeks. She hurried on. “And then I told him where Marilyn—my coworker—was staying. I ran into him there, and, um, I told him he should come dancing. And he did.”

“Seriously? You told the Winter Soldier he should go dancing?”

“Erm, yes?”

“You have some guts,” Natasha said, impressed.

“Well,” Jesse said, cheeks hotter than ever, “I think everyone should go dancing. It beats a whole lot of other things.”

“Still,” Natasha said. “James Barnes isn’t just anyone.” A sudden grin spread on her face. “He must be good, huh?”

Jesse bit her lip and nodded. Natasha looked back to her computer, but Jesse still had the sense she was being observed.

“Then what?” Natasha asked, fingers poised on the keyboard.

“Um, he came dancing.” Jesse tucked a leg under her and waited for Natasha to glance up from her typing before she continued. “And he asked if I’d be interested in teaching with him. For my work.”

“The Brooklyn Children’s Education Initiative.”

“Yeah, although we just call it BCEI,” Jesse said. “Multisyllabic words and all.”

All in all, this was an awful lot like a meeting at work, except that for once it wasn’t Jesse taking notes. That was a relief. If she had to talk and type and eventually try not to cry… That would be too much.

“And that proposal went through, as I understand.” Natasha was typing again, her nails clicking gently against the keys in a streaming rhythm.

Jesse nodded, but didn’t elaborate. How much did Natasha already know? Her blushes had been a blunder, she realized—Natasha could read people, couldn’t she? She was a spy. That was her job. There was no taking back what she’d said, but she’d gotten distracted by pleasant memories. No more. Let Natasha take what she could get, at least as far as her relationship with Bucky was concerned.

Besides, that relationship was already established. There was no need to get into details, and Natasha surely had no interest in Jesse’s feelings. Her chief concern was information about Current Relief.

“Tell me about the first break-in.”

Jesse took a steadying breath and launched into as neutral a narrative as she could manage of the morning she’d plunged her hand in the toilet and detailed the other little clues she’d half-ignored.

Natasha furrowed her eyebrows when Jesse finished telling how her day had gone after that. “You say you ignored it, but that’s not quite true,” she said. “Bucky said you weren’t sleeping well…”

“I’m a millennial; bad sleep schedules are practically a requirement,” Jesse said snidely, but her eyes stung. If she didn’t make jokes, she knew she’d cry, and she had as much pride as any Avenger. She rubbed at her pulsing temple. Natasha shook back her red hair and pursed her lips.

“Well, that’s not true, but go on. What next?”

Jesse talked, and talked, and talked. All the while, Natasha probed for more, more—more details, more emotion, more background.

“What do you mean?”

“Tell me about this Mike Fuller.”

“If they bugged your apartment, why didn’t they recognize Bucky when he came over a few days later?”

That, at last, gave Jesse pause. “I don’t know.”

“Bucky says he found multiple listening devices in your apartment. Didn’t you say hi? ‘Hi, Bucky, come in’ or something?”

“No-o,” Jesse said slowly. She bent her legs up and wound her arms around them. “I didn’t call him by name.”

Natasha stared. “Why not?”

“I don’t know!” Jesse cried. She pressed her forehead to her knee and stared cross-eyed at the crosshatched fabric of her leggings, willing her tears to stay tucked behind her eyes. Why couldn’t Natasha leave her alone? Sure, Bucky’s name rolled of her tongue like honey now, but back then it had felt like an imposition. She thought back to their first meeting. Had he even introduced himself?

No. He hadn’t.

“Moving on,” Natasha said. “Talk me through the rest.”

Jesse sighed.

—

“Bucky said you were smart,” Natasha said later, once Jesse had reached Natasha’s arrival at Bucky’s place. They were still at the kitchen table, but Natasha had gotten them both glasses of water, and the light slanted more and more through the curtains. “He was right.”

Jesse’s face burned. She couldn’t meet Natasha’s eye. “If I was smart, I probably wouldn’t have gone through all that. I would have—”

“Cut the crap,” Natasha interrupted, but she was smiling gently. “Even smart people get screwed over. All things considered, you did damn good. You saved that girl Liz, you realized something was wrong… Hell, you even got Bucky out of his comfort zone after what, meeting him twice?”

Jesse bit her lip to keep from snorting. The sniff she couldn’t help. “Alright, alright. Thank you.”

“If you don’t trust my judgment, you might as well trust his.”

Jesse’s breath caught in her throat; her eyes snapped to Natasha’s.

Natasha tilted her glass in a circle; the water sparkled from the evening sun streaming through the lace curtain over the western window. “Last week, he had some good things to say.”

Jesse bit her tongue hard to keep from asking more, but Natasha glanced up at her and nearly smirked.

“He was excited to be working on a normal project. With you,” Natasha clarified.

“Huh.” Jesse smiled ruefully and stifled a yawn. “Well, god willing we’ll be able to get back to it. Someday.”

“I’m sure,” Natasha said. She went back to typing. “Are you hungry?”

“Not really.” Jesse’s stomach did feel hollow, but the sudden heaviness in her limbs was more pressing. “I think I’m going to lie down.” She tried to stand, but her knees buckled. She fell heavily back into her chair and stared dimly at Natasha. This feeling… she’d felt it before. This was the same terrifying exhaustion that had come over her during her abduction! Jesse’s hand shook as she tried to push herself back up; tears sprang to her eyes as her tongue turned to ash in her mouth.

“No, no… Wha—”

“Woah, calm down,” Natasha said. She hurried over and slipped Jesse’s arm over her shoulders, guiding her to her feet. Natasha was slender and not even as tall as Jesse, but her arms were all muscle. “The sedative I gave you must be wearing off. It’s nothing to be worried about.”

Jesse had just enough energy to roll her eyes. “Shoulda told me,” she muttered. “Shoulda.”

“Coulda, shoulda, woulda,” Natasha parrotted back. She led Jesse up the stairs one step at a time. “Almost there. And hey, look on the bright side. You’ll sleep really well.”

“Hmph,” Jesse said, but the moment Natasha guided her onto the bed, she was out cold.

—

Jesse woke to a pounding on her door.

“Get up and come downstairs,” Natasha called. “I’m about to leave.”

Jesse buried her face in the pillow with a groan. Natasha leaving? Already? Jesse propped herself up on her elbow, blinking blearily. The curtains weren’t thick enough to block out all the light. The brightness peeping around their edges made Jesse blink. She stumbled to the window and peeked around the edge; her eyes stung from the bright midday sun. The curtain fell back in place the second she stepped back, blinking furiously. How long had she been asleep?

Her blue dress was more wrinkled than ever. She was growing to hate the sight of it. The bloodstain, the wrinkles, the memories… This was the dress she’d been wearing when Current Relief came after her. When she’d been stuck in the hospital, afraid of every footstep. When she’d been sitting on Bucky’s bed, his forehead against hers and his breath on her lips.

No, dammit, none of that.

Jesse shoved the thought of Bucky aside as she yanked her dress over her head and tossed it aside. Would it be wrong to just ball the damn thing up and throw it away?

Maybe not, but she had no idea when she’d get replacement clothes. For now, all she had apart from a few changes of underwear was the blue dress, the leggings she was peeling off, a single maroon shirt, and a pair of jeans.

Jeans and maroon shirt it was.

In another minute, she was heading downstairs with a hand pressed tight against the wall for support. Natasha was in the living room, talking with a man with dark hair graying at the temples. Despite his hair, he looked no older than forty.

As soon as Jesse came into view, Natasha stopped talking to the stranger and turned to Jesse. “Jesse, this is Agent Rensselaer. Richard. He’ll be here for the next week.”

“Um, hi.” Jesse’s hand twitched forward, but Richard’s hands were buried in his pockets. He regarded her with a tilted head and a serious expression.

“I’m sorry for what happened to you,” he said. “Hopefully we can get you home before too long.”

“Thanks.” Jesse stuffed her own hands in her back pockets.

Richard nodded once and turned back to Natasha. “Anything else, Agent Romanoff?”

“No, thank you.” Natasha zipped up her jacket and pulled her hair free from the collar. “Well, Jesse, it’s been grand. I’m sure I’ll see you around.”

Jesse smiled tightly. Natasha grabbed a black duffel bag from the couch and swung it over her shoulder as she headed towards Jesse and the door. Jesse opened her mouth, but she couldn’t think of anything worth saying. Natasha didn’t want to hear please stay, that much was obvious. Everything else seemed unnecessary.

But Natasha stopped inches away and wrapped her free arm around Jesse’s shoulders. “Chin up, Jesse,” she murmured.

A tear eked its way out of Jesse’s eye. “Thanks,” she whispered.

Natasha let go and stalked away, the rustling of her clothes and the sound of the door opening and closing the only indication of her progress. Once the door shut, Jesse let out a huff and turned to Richard, who took one look at Jesse’s face and gave a smile that bordered on a grimace.

“Well, let me know if you need anything,” he said. He turned on his heel and took up residence in the kitchen.

Jesse stood alone in the living room. She spun on her heel and ran upstairs. Not until her door was closed and locked did she fling herself back onto her bed and let her tears overwhelm her. This was punishment, she was sure of it. Alone with a man she didn’t know, a stranger who had no interest in getting to know her…

Oh, why couldn’t she have just stayed with Bucky?

Jesse buried her head in her pillow and let herself cry. In the solitude of her room, no one was going to stop her.

A/N: Welp, there you have it... Sorry for an utter lack of Bucky, but he’ll be back soon. Everything circles back to him, after all... And yes, Natasha’s ‘someone who lives on a farm with a tractor’ is everyone’s favorite archer <3 Gotta love Clint!

Hope you enjoyed! Let me know what you thought :3

#bucky barnes x ofc #bucky x oc #bucky x ofc #bucky barnes fic #winter soldier x oc #winter soldier x ofc #bucky barnes x original female character #becca writes #the not for profit fic

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zebraslovescupcakestoo · 5 years

Text

Boy crush

My name is Felix Lockheart. I'm just an average guy with a first year, high school teenage lifestyle. I'm a bit of a bookworm and play soccer by myself on my week days. I am also a self reserve, a bit of a shy person and....

I got a boy crush...

I have... an explainable crush for over two months.

I hate to admit it but....

I know that this is 201X and that people are more open minded with their 'gender relations' to be polite, but to some like myself, it's not that easy...

I got a heart rush...ain't slowin' down.

The boy I've had a 'crush' on... I don't believed he knew me yet. Let alone my existence.

His name... Oswald 'Walt' Disney. He's the most interesting person I've seen since the entrance ceremony. All it took was just once glance and... It just happened.

I got it real bad, want everything he has.

Since then, I've been watching him from afar like a spectator watching the actor. I watched carefully to everything he's doing. He's one of the most attractive students in the whole school for one thing. He's the top martial art member of the karate club along having some pretty good grades. He's also part of that famous Disney family that made cartoons and TV shows, along with his even more famous younger brother, Mickey Disney.

But in my opinion, I still think he's cooler... and more interesting than his family's background.

That smile and that midnight laugh, he's giving them now.

Despite being under his family's shadow, some people still see him as his own person... I glanced often at him behind my library books that I used to cover my face during class breaks. I see him interact and blend in with the other classmates, both guys and girls...

I want to taste his lips, yeah cause they taste like you...

I watched him talk, laugh, and I also try really hard to hear what they were saying. They all talked mostly the regular stuff like what are they doing on weekends, who's at the top charts this week and who's dating who and got dumped...

There were times after school, he had to meet someone that placed a confession letter in his locker or desk...

I was anxious whenever that happened and I had that tied feeling inside my chest.

I wanna drown myself in a bottle of his cologne.

I've witnessed it after school from behind the buildings, the empty classrooms, and sometimes even next to the separate changing rooms. They were girls from first and second years, each had different personalty and quirks, all confessed to him and they asked “I really like you! Please go out with me, even just once!” This time it was a light brunette girl with buns tied with ribbons. She was those stereotypical cute girls that no guy would turn down.

During those confessions, my heart really started to burst through my chest and I was worried of what he was going to say. “I'm sorry, but there's someone I wanted to ask first before I do.” He told her just like he said to the others.

I quickly averted myself to look like I was just passing by or I'm reviewing one of the subjects we had that day. Oswald passed by me very closely and I could help but admire again his features.

I want his long, dark hair...

He had black hair with a twin pony tails in one that looked like rabbit ears. He had those mysterious deep ocean blue eyes, those pale and smooth skin tone and he had that samurai looks that gave a serious, deep thought vibes... He's also the same height as me cause he glace straight in my eyes as he caught me looking....

OH SNAP! HE'S LOOKING AT ME!

I immediately buried my blushing face in the history book I was holding and pray to God that he did not noticed me staring him. He would think of me like I was a creepy stalker. Few seconds later, that girl came around and faced him. “Fine! But I'll wait for you a bit and trust me, I am much better that whoever she is and cuter!” She declared with confidence. I admire those kinds of people who were determined as she was... I can barely have a normal conversation with just one person without over thinking of what to say.

“What makes you think you're better than that person if you never actually met them once?” He responded to her and that upset her a bit. She didn't wanted to draw the school's attention to her rejection as he walked away until he was out of our sight.

She then glanced at me angrily and dropped her cute act. “Hey you! Bookworm!” I jumped a bit. “H-huh? Yes, wh-what is it?!” Oh snap! Did she noticed me spying or staring at him?! “You wouldn't know anyone who would hang out with the karate prince, would ya?” I lowered my history book and I was about to say 'I don't know' until she cut me off. “Never mind. I doubt it could have been any of the girls that did confessed. At least more than half of the girl's population in this prison got rejected by him and they all have that same answer. I doubt someone like you would understand that... Nerd.” She whispered that as she turned to the opposite direction...

I immediately speed walked to the nearest restroom to take a breather from what happened... As soon as I found one that for single use, I entered it and locked it. Then I took a deep breath and exhaled... “I'm not creepy... I'm just different...”

She didn't have to reminded me that. I've been used to it by now. I know that I'm not one of those 'in crowd' hipster kids and that I'm a little different, but that doesn't mean it's bad! Except... I have a bad crush on a boy...

See, I'm a guy and he's a guy... I still don't know if he's interested of, you now, dating... and stuff. Until recently he is waiting for a confession from someone or waiting to be approved by someone... I had to swallow that pill hard. If one truly cared for that person, he or she wanted to give happiness for them, including of letting go.

As soon as I know who it is, maybe this feeling will go away and I can live my school life in peace... and hope for happiness.

I want his gentle touch...

The next day, we had a two person, team up assignment for a science presentation of our choice. It was the teacher's choice to pair us up by the names that were drawn in the hat... and low and behold...

I got 'lucky' to be paired with Oswald... I nearly fell off my chair. Fortunately, nobody caught that.

While almost all the girls were disappointed, they were still glad that it wasn't one of their female rivals who got picked. If only they knew...

He came over to my seat and asked. “Are you free this afternoon?” This was the first 'actual' question he asked me since the entrance ceremony. I just nodded and he said. “Do you want to go to the school's library then? We might find something there that could give us and idea of what to do.”

I nodded twice and then he smiled softly. He's so... nicer than I thought. I then started to fell more in love... is it love? No... it's just a crush! He did have someone he's waiting for, right?

“Are you feeling well? You look red in the face.” His expression had turned sad. My face is red?! Oh no! “No no! I'm just... a bit hot! I just needed to take some cool fresh air and I'm good. I'll met you there after class.” I tried to came up an excuse for it. He looked at me for a few seconds until he said. “Ah... OK. I'll meet you there.” He then regain that wonderful smile and returned to his seat before class starts. I hope he didn't noticed that was a lie or that he thinks what it really was.

Yeah, cause maybe then, you'd want me just as much...

Apart that there were a few other students scattered in the library that day, there were just the two of us at one table that can fit for four to eight people. He told me first that he needed to finish a few math problems before we get started on what we should do on our science project. I simple said ok and decided to take out one of my own books I've owned.

It was a quiet yet a peaceful treasured moment for me. Just me and him together. I was happy.

I then noticed he made a mistake on one of the equations. “Oh, wait! That's the wrong equation for that problem.” I said to him without raising my indoor voice. This is a school Library. “Hm.” Was his response. “Do you know what should be the correct formula?” He look at me directly in the eyes. “You seem like you have a pretty good grades. You were one of the top in our class last time I've seen the results posted on the classroom's board.” He then answered that detailed. I then started to blush a bit and that feeling had returned.

I got a boy crush...

He complimented me for the first time. I never got noticed like that. Usually people just see who's first or who's last, they don't care much on who's in the middle part. “You... noticed that?” He smiled gently at me. “Of course, you were just above me on the last exams. Now tell me what I did wrong.” I snapped back in reality and immediately looked down at the mistaken equation. I explained on what was the correct way of finding the length of the Pythagorean theorem of a triangle. Just as he said, “Ah, I see.” His right hand partially, gently brushed off mines.

There was a sudden electric rush in my spine, my eyes widen a bit and I blushed a bit deeper. 'He touched my hand...' It may be for a second, but it felt... nice. I then realized that we're still in a 'public' library. I immediately buried my face in my book. Why am I acting this way? He's a guy, but a cool and attractive guy. We're so different and yet why... why... am I so.... getting dizzy of thinking about it..?

I got a boy crush...

“Enough.” He said as he closed off his text book. Huh? I looked at him and he was looking straight at me with a frowning face. “Pack your books, we're changing location.” What? What did I... I then realized he was glaring at me to hurry up. That made me scare. Thankfully I only took out one book. “Wh-where are we going instead?” I asked as I stood up. “Somewhere much better than here. Follow me. You don't have anyone waiting back at your place?” He asked for my family as we leave. This is a bit odd of him to say that, but still. “Not really, I just text to my father and sister almost every day to let them know how I'm doing and all.”

His expression soften a bit. “...So you're alone on most nights too.” Huh? My expression was confused as he said that. “Nothing. Just text them you'll be at a friend's place for tonight and that you'll be a bit late.”

Wait. What did he just said?

I don't get no sleep...

He's not lying once we've arrived at his place. It was one of those fancy new apartments with those special security buzz call and all that stuff. I should have known better since he's one of the Disney family. My heart was beating faster and harder. I'm feeling really anxious. I'm visiting his 'personal space.' Yet I'm a bit curious of why he's on his own like this. Did something happened between them that I didn't know?

As soon as we entered his complex, it was like one of those classy black themed apartment that you might see in those magazines. “Come sit down on the couch, I'll make some tea.”

“Mm-hm.” I hummed and nodded with a tiny smile. This boy crush is now taking a toll on me and it took almost all of my strength not to do something awkward. If I do 'something' awkward, I might triggered my first panic attack.

I don't get no peace...

I sat in the living room for quite some time, quietly. I tried to look around me to keep myself calm. I noticed that he had two large posters of Michael Jackson and an Elvis Presley. I didn't know he's into that kind of music. I also noticed he had a blue guitar in his stand near the corner where it was. Guess the neighbors haven't told him to get rid of it yet or he's really good at it that they let him keep it.

I did noticed a few family portraits, most were with his little brother. Guess that he's on a good term relation with him. Most would be either on neutral or rivalry, but I guess that's just me with my nephews whenever they came with my sister for a visit.

Ah! That reminds me! I immediately pulled out my cell phone and I immediately text them of where I'm at and let them know that I'll be late to come home. I've only have two contacts in my phone so it's not a huge surprise for someone like me. After a few minutes, dad responded that it was alright, my sister on the other hand, she was sending a long paragraph of how happy she was for me to make a friend and that I needed to see more 'real' people. I'm a shy person with an out-going sister, OK?

I'll take that as an 'OK' from them.

Thinking about him, under the bed sheets...

I then heard him coming in with two cups of tea. “I've got lavender tea, so I hope you don't mind it with some milk and a bit of sweet in it.” He said. “Oh, no, not at all. I sometimes have some on rainy days and just enjoy watching it through my bedroom window while hearing the droplets-Err!!” I blushed and looked away. Aw, snap! I made it awkward! I doubt that he think it's interesting. He just chuckled and said. “Don't be shy. I love the rain too. It's just sad that most of the other kids preferred to be 'sunshine everyday' of the week. Guess they don't know how rain can be a good thing or appreciate it's good sides.” I looked at him as he smile at me. Why are you so... nice to someone like me?

He sat down next to me. Oh my God! He's so close! I immediately looked down in my tea, took a sip and I was surprised that he used honey instead of sugar. I know that it can be a bit hard to use them for this, but it's really good!

“Not only it's good, but it helps calm down stress and anxiety. It will help greatly for someone I've seen for a while...” He sets down his cup. “There's something I wanted to ask you for quite a while...” He looked at me again and waited me to put mine down. I set it down and wondered what could he mean.

No. It's... too obvious. Right? But I still didn't have the courage to look straight in his eyes. I've kept them down and didn't turned my head. Both my hands were gripping tightly like a fist on my knees and I trembled a bit. I was scared of what might happened. Did I do something wrong? Was it something I've said or maybe... he noticed me following him??

The way that he's whispering...

I then got surprised of a gentle touch on my left cheek that I've let out an “Ah!” and then my head was turned straight in his face. He frowned a bit and said. “Eyes over here.” I looked right in his eyes... they were those beautiful deep ocean blue colors that I can't help but to admire them. I couldn't move nor even blink. I was frozen, paralyzed yet a bit shaken by that guy...

The way that he's pulling me in...

I let out another 'yeep!' as his other hand had been put at my left hip and he pulled me closer to him. I don't know how, but my hands had somewhat gripped both his side of the white long sleeves he's wearing. I was blushing so red and thinking 'what the heck and I DOING?!' “That's a cute face you're making.” He smirked.

Aaaaaah! I want to crawl in a corner and just let me die from this embarrassment! Please!

He then got serious and asked.“Felix, I want to ask you something and I want you to answer it with honesty...” I mentally snapped back in reality and calmed myself. This is it... I nodded cause I was a bit nervous to say it.

“Now tell me... Do you like me?” He said those triggered words and my heart sank. “huh?” What did he said? I might misunderstood it. “D-do I what?” I asked again on what he really meant. “I'm asking if you like me or not.”

Oh... He said if I like him or not... My mind exploded and turned blank. My mouth was slightly opened but no words came out. He said it. I then feel drained and as I faded out of conscious, all I remembered was his worried face and he called my name before I fell on him...

Lord knows I've tried, I can't get him off my mind.

I came to once I've awoken with more lavender scents. I knew that I've smelled this before back at the library, but I've just assumed that it might have been someone else. I feel a soft pillow on my head, a really warm blanket and then I've realized there's someone's gentle hand that's been caressing the back of my head. I opened slightly my eyes and saw Oswald, who he noticed me, smiled again. “You're up. Thank goodness, I thought that I might need to call your next of kin if you're still fainted.”

He... was taking care of me when I fainted? I then realized on what he was doing and I blushed immediately. I've hid my face underneath the blanket and I trembled in embarrassment. I can't believe I've messed up our first interaction alone! “I-I'm so sorry! I d-don't know what came over me!” I then felt the blanket pulled over my head and saw him frowning again. “Don't hide your face when you're talking to me.” He said it seriously. I was at loss and I don't know what to say.

If I say that I like him, he would have freaked out or be disgusted. But then again, he asked that damned question... What's the right way to say it? He then placed his hand on my cheeks again to make me look at him. “Felix, don't be scared. I want to hear it from you. I know for a while now that you've been watching me since early fall after our high school entrance ceremony.” I was surprised. “H-how... did you know?”

He then gently placed me back on a sitting position, but kept himself close.“Cause you've been following me at school everywhere but kept your distance. I would have let it pass as coincidental if you haven't had a few mishaps of pretending to read a book unless you can do it upside down.” He smirked a bit. Yikes! Did I really do that? Sure I might have noticed it but him? How did he knew that detail specifically? I was guessing that it was probably my turn to speak. “Well... I've... seen you a few times and I... couldn't help but admire...” I quietly spoke and started to tremble. Why is it so hard to say it?

I wanna taste his lips, yeah 'cause they taste like you...

“Me? Admirable? I doubt it.” He puts himself down. I was shocked to hear that. “Wh-what do you mean? Sure you may be not as big as your little brother, but I think you're amazing on your own. You're even just as popular as your family, you're kinda like a prince according to most of the girls and you're so... nice...!!!” I clammed my mouth with both my hands when I realized I've spoke too much. Great! Now I've probably creep him out!

But... he didn't reacted like that. He smiled, then pulls my hands away and said. “It's alright. You're being honest unlike most of the people I've knew.” I looked at him again confused. Why... is he not weird out from someone like me? Was he serious when he asked 'that' earlier?

He then gently placed one of my loose hair at the back of my ear. “What makes you notice I'm nice in real person before this? I've rarely show that side to anyone.”

“Well... I've seen that first time I did is when it was raining after school one time. There was an old man who'd probably didn't have much was using some news papers to cover his head. You've offered your own umbrella and then used your school bag to cover your head instead. That makes me think you're a kind, warmhearted person.” I remembered it well.

I wanna drown myself in a bottle of his cologne...

“You've... saw that? It wasn't out of publicity praises I've done that...” His eyes looked on the side, blushing. Holey carp fish! Now this sounded like some cheesy, love confession in those novels! “N-no! It's not like that! I think you're really a great guy! I just... couldn't help but admire.” I've blurred it out.

He looked at me with a surprising eyes and I froze again. Why am I digging my own early grave for my so-called 'social' life? His expression relaxed again and he also placed his right hand on my left cheek. “Funny. I just assumed that I'm just average. Truth is, I believed you're more interesting. To me at least.” He then brushes his thumb on my blushing cheeks as my eyes widen with shock. Little, plain but weird, old me? Interesting? To him? A super cool guy? Probably more famous than I'll ever be in my dreams?

...Wait. I DID fainted, right? “Am I still dreaming?” I asked. He then had an idea and smirked . “Maybe... What if it's real?” I was confused on what he said until he puts his other hand on the other side of my cheeks. He pulls me closer to his face and said with confidence. “If I confessed what I wanted, will you accept it?” I innocently opened my mouth to let out a 'huh?' and then he took that chance to kiss me... on the lips.

“mmh!” Was my reaction. My eyes widen while his were closed. He pulled me close to his chest as I've unconsciously gripped his sleeves again. My heart started to pound faster and felt like it was about to jump off my rib cage. My mind is thinking of numerous things right now, one of them is what's going on right now.

He's kissing me.

He then let my lips go after we needed air. He was blushing a bit deeper, but not as much as I am. “Ah... ah...” I tried to breathe. I was embarrassed, but confused. He then realized what he had done and covered his mouth. “I'm sorry... I got a bit carried away. You were so cute that I... couldn't help myself. Please forgive me.” He then pulls me close again with one hand on my head and the other wrapped around my waist in a hug.

I want his long, dark hair...

Oh. my. Gosh! Now I know I'm not dreaming! Did 'the' Oswald 'lucky rabbit' Disney just confessed and kissed me?! For reals?!! I don't know what to say but... I wanted to make sure. “Do you really... like me?” I asked. “Yes... I wanted to make sure that you were comfortable with me before I wanted to ask. Especially if I'm a guy...” He sounded like he's having the same problem as I did... “But why me of all the people? There's a lot of cute girls and even some handsome guys who would have been a much better match than boring, old me! I'm not one of those 'in crowd' kids.” Why did he choose me out of all those people?

“Because you're unique to me.” I gasped. “You were pretty much reading books, but they were mostly on more interesting titles than the ones that were recommended by staff picks or even on those Kobo tablets. You even sometimes get some of the most crucial details when everyone else missed like your keen eye senses. A bit reserved, but you're more honest and that you're the type who doesn't go for superficial love relationships or looks... although I've already mentioned that you were cute, heh!” He chuckled on that last part. I felt... happy.

I want his magic touch...

“Now are you willing to go out with me? Even if it's just once, I want to go out with you. If not then... I wanted to be friends at least...?” He then got a bit surprise when I wrapped my arms around his back and placed my head on his chest. I knew he was well built, but it felt good. I finally took all of my courage and I gave him my answer. “Yes... I do... I was so scared of confessing and that well...” I started to shake a bit until he placed another kiss on my cheeks this time. We looked at each other again and then he said. “There's no need to be afraid... I've already fell in love with you on first glance. Now that we've confessed, we can now learn more about each other.”

Yeah 'cause maybe then, you'd want me just as much...

“Wait! What about-” He then placed a finger on my lips. “We can do it tomorrow... I want to enjoy this moment with you.” He answered as if he knew of what I was about to ask on our school project.

I got a boy crush...

He then looked at me again, leaned his head just a bit as if he wanted to kiss me again...

Hate to admit it but...

I may have blushed a bit, but I've nodded a bit and then I've let him... I've spend a long evening with him.

I got a heart rush, ain't slowing down...

----Author’s notes-----

AHHHHHHHHH!!!!! I can’t believe I’ve just made my first boy fluff one shot!

Just to let you know that I did not want to break any rules, including the new Tumbr rule about no adultery here so please don’t take this seriously. (It’s just a kiss, jez!)

I dunno why I’ve been obsessed with this but I just wanted to let it out.

I did choose this particular song not because of the misconception of loving the same gender, but more like kind of an envious way. It’s a bit of the mash of original and the remix of this song.

Girl Crush by Little Big Town and cover AJ.

BBTIM AU characters belongs to Marini4.

#bendy before the ink machine #Felix The Cat #felix #oswald #oswald the lucky rabbit #humanized #fanfiction #boy crush

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rum-and-shattered-dreams · 6 years

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Chapter 14: The Cure for a Bad Day

Summary:

Stan's having a bad day thanks to Gideon's antics but it's not going to stop him from bringing a couple of sandwiches downstairs to share with his brother. Ford apologizes for some things, Stan has a revelation, and Ford unwittingly cures Stan's bad day.

Notes: Another lighter chapter with a little fluff/comfort. Also, Ford secretly loves the southern accent and doesn't want to admit it. ;)

Warnings: Nothing really. Belching, I guess? And heavier cursing than usual but mostly in a satisfying and triumphant way.

And woo! Here's some chillingly wonderful art from @cthulhu-of-the-night

As mentioned on this post, there's some stuff coming up that's more intense than I imagined it would be. Still nothing that would change any ratings or content warnings on this but definitely more action and such than I thought would show up yet. But, also as mentioned, I wasn't sure if it would be broken into multiple parts... And it was so this is kind of an in between bit, something to get us from point A to point B and fill in a few blanks and details along the way. Hoping to have the next part posted either tomorrow or Monday since it's mostly drafted already.

Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six Part Seven (with illustration) Part Eight Part Nine (With link to more art!) Part Ten Part Eleven Part Twelve (with link to more art!) Part Thirteen More fics An illustration (from part one) The Mystery Shack was silent aside from the creak of old boards under Stan's slippers and the scrape of a knife against toast. A couple of turkey sandwiches wasn't much of a meal but, at this point, Stan figured he'd probably wind up burning down the house if he touched the stove. He'd already burned the first batch of toast and had the mustard squirt nothing but juice onto a piece from the second batch. When he'd reached for a tomato, he'd found the last one had turned soggy and was dripping through the wire basket onto the counter. He snatched a bag of sliced turkey and package of cheese from the fridge, slamming the door behind him. The cheese package zipped open with a tug of a tab and he pulled out slices covered in green and black. "UGH!" he fumed, his fingers institutionally flinging the pieces away and onto the floor. Upon examination, the package’s plastic had been torn open on the backside. "Figures," he grunted. With a pair of tongs pulled from the pile of dishes soaking in the sink, he picked up the moldy slices and dropped them into the trash. To compensate for the lack of ingredients, he piled the whole pound of turkey onto two sandwiches, crumpled the bag and threw it at the trash can only to have it bounce back out as if it felt the same way about the cheese as he did. "Fine. Stay there," he spat. With a dinner tray set up for Ford and himself to share, and two tote bags filled with snacks hanging from his shoulders he headed down to the basement. "Don't you dare," he grumbled to the elevator as it creaked and moaned, threatening to stall. He puffed a sigh of relief when it obeyed and clunked into place on the basement level. His eyes squinted in the blue dimness of the former control room as the door rambled closed behind him. Beyond the wooden wall and door, he could hear his brother repeating "Channel up" over and over in a monotonous tone. He sighed and stepped forward... Right into a panel from a supercomputer that had apparently decided that leaning against the wall wasn't good enough for it and sprawling across the floor was more comfortable. "Ah! Son of a bitch!" Stan yelped, a string of curses following. His toe throbbed and he couldn't even bend down to see if it was bleeding through his slipper thanks to the tray he'd nearly dumped onto the floor and the bags bulging under his arms. He hobbled to the door and let himself in, his curses trailing off as warm light and the smell of rosemary and mint washed over him. Ford looked up to him from what appeared to be a partly built pillow fort and asked, "Bad day?" "That ain't the half of it," he snipped, setting the tray down on the storage chest and kicking off his slipper to check his toe. Thankfully, it wasn't bleeding but he wouldn't be surprised if bruises showed up under multiple toenails later. "TV off," Ford commanded. He shifted among the nest of pillows to face his brother and pried, " should I ask?" "Actually, yeah," Stan huffed, plopping the tote bags on the floor. "You mind if I vent a bit?" he said, toeing at the matted faux fur of his slipper until it slid partially back on. Ford shrugged, about to make a joke about how he was too busy but bit it back as Stan tried to step the rest of the way into his slipper and tripped instead. "Uh... Go for it," he said, gritting his teeth in sympathy as his brother snarled and swore. Stan bent down and picked up his slipper, squeezing and twisting it between both hands as he explained, "It's that Gideon kid!" "Oh. That." "Yeah. That. He tried to steal the shack again today. He thought I'd fall for some sweepstakes thing and sign over the deed," he rambled, throwing his slipper at the door with a pathetic pelting sound. "Pfft..." Ford's laugh started as a sputter and escalated to a howl. "What? What's so funny?" he asked, hands on his hips, voice grating over his throat in annoyance. "The fact that a, what is he, nine? Ten? Year old kid thought he could out-con a man who's been at it for six times as long." "Well, I'm glad it's so hilarious to you," Stan said, reaching for his mangled slipper. He straightened the sole, more as a fidgeting activity than a restorative one as his worries spilled out, "I mean, yeah, I saw through it this time but am I always going to be able to?" "Don't doubt yourself," Ford said, unsure if the attempt to boost confidence was aimed at Stan, himself, or both of them. "You know what I mean," he said, propping his hand against the door to steady himself while he lifted his foot to replace his slipper properly. "Yeah. I do," Ford replied with a grim inflection, one hand rubbing at the intertwined cable knit of his sweater sleeve. "Guess that's why I can only laugh at this point." "Well, anyway, that idiot kid ruined my mirror maze," he continued, testing his footing against the now lumpy sole of his slipper. "Broke every one of 'em then started laughing 'til he fell over for some reason. Still can't figure out why. I ended up having to roll him back outside." "Aw, not the mirror maze. You and Soos just got it all set up." "Yeah! So much for the money that would have brought in." Stan ranted about how he'd acquired all of those mirrors, something about thrift stores and dumpsters and hard work that likely meant "theft" but Ford couldn't make out much of it through the guilt that seemed to erode his heart like acid. His head tipped down, eye closed and hands clenched over his folded legs until the second call of his name broke through the fog. "Ford?! Are you even listening to me?" "Stanley, I'm sorry!" he blurted, eye clenched closed, shoulders drawn up to his ears. Stan blinked, tense posture sagging as he approached the bars between them. "Sorry? What for?" he asked. "For bringing up money at the surgery center," he answered, turning his head away. "I must have sounded just like... Dad." "Huh," Stan hummed as if trying to fill out a quiz in his mind. His arms draped over the horizontal bar and he gave a dry laugh. "Leave it to you to be so oversensitive that you're oversensitive for other people, ya nerd." "What?" Ford asked, finally turning to look at him, bewildered. "I didn't take it that way," Stan said with a shrug. "Maybe that means I'm gettin' over all that bullshit or something but I took it as 'we're out of money, I should go make us more of it.'" Stan paused as the revelation hit him, washing over him as he spoke slow words that sped into an excited frenzy, "Because that's a thing I can do now... Because, ha! Fuck you, pops. Fuck you! I-," he looked to Ford who blinked at him, resembling a confused owl with one giant eye. He corrected, more for his own sake than Ford's, "We. We own a business that's actually successful enough that it can generate that kind of cash. Fuck you, old man! I hope you're rolling in your grave knowing how much this place can make us and that you're not getting a dime of it!" Ford smiled, his shoulders lowering. "Yes," he said with an airy laugh, "I hope so, too." But I'm sure if any rolling is happening, it's equally because of how his precious money-maker son ended up... His thoughts trailed off. This was Stan's moment, a sorely needed moment of triumph. Not his moment to feel sorry for himself. "Fuck him," he whispered instead. "Ford? You okay?" "Yeah," he said, steeling himself and looking up to his brother, "I'm just sorry I was so difficult at the surgery center." "Pfft," Stan waved it off, "Geez, Ford. You lost an eye. You lost your damn eye and handled it better than I would have," he breathed, easing his intensity before continuing, "It's alright. I've said it before and I mean it. I get it. Okay?" "Mmm," he answered with a nod. "Well, now that that's all cleared up, let's eat," Stan said, backing away from the bars. He returned with the tray in hand and eased himself down onto the floor pillow. Ford shifted forward, pushing pillows aside to edge closer to the padded bars while Stan uncovered the tray. "How are the kids?" he asked, reaching out for half of his sandwich. "Is Dipper feeling any better after that fight with Robbie?" "Yeah, he's on the mend," Stan said, lifting a sandwich half shaped like a wedge and waging it as if accenting his hand gestures, "I'm still not sure how that lanky kid made such a mess out of him. I figure he had some kind of, I don't know, body builder Karate master do the fighting for him. But, Dipper insists it wasn't anything like that. I gotta say, though, I'm pretty proud of him for actually tryin' to stand up to a kid who's older and bigger than him, even if he did get demolished. That took a lot of guts." Ford worked through his first bite, the motion resembling Gompers when he chewed on a wad of grass, and asked, "What about his crush?" "Eh," Stan said, words garbled by a mouthful, "he still hasn't actually told me about it but it's pretty obvious. Hope he's not taking things too hard. I mean, honestly, I know Wendy ain't gonna go for a kid younger than her but I think I hate the idea of her being with that Robbie guy as much as Dipper does. Seems like a real creeper, ya know?" Ford chugged from his soda cup and swallowed hard. "Like the guys you used to beat up because they messed with Carla?" he asked. "Yeah, like them," Stan answered, following Ford's lead and downing at least half his drink then letting out a belch that smelled like a deli doused in cola. Ford waved his hand in a joking gesture, as if trying to disperse the smell. Too bad he couldn't control the timing of his own belches. With their unpredictable nature, he usually wound up suppressing them rather than trying to compete with anyone. With no ammo to return the bodily function, he instead asked, "What about Mabel?" How has she been?" "She's good. Absolutely loves that pig of hers. I don't really get it," he said with a shrug, "but if it makes her happy, then eh, whatever." "I'm glad she's happy." "You sure you don't mind that she's keeping Waddles in the house after what you said the other day?" Stan asked, pointing an untouched corner of his sandwich wedge at Ford. Ford paused mid-bite and lowered his sandwich to answer, "I suppose I don't mind. Why? What did I say?" Stan's chewing stalled, his eyes wide and body frozen. They'd thought Bill had been keeping his distance, but Ford may as well have had the words "Bill was here" written on his forehead rather than scrawled in faded scars across his arm. "Um..." he started, wondering if he should drag the apparently painful memory back up. But, if Bill wanted it gone, then no matter how painful it was, he needed to try to help Ford get it back. "That thing," he explained, "about how you told someone that you'd send him back south if you ever saw a pig in the house?" "Oh. Oh! Yes. I remember! I..." he paused. Shreds of the memory fluttered through his mind as if caught up in a breeze, mostly out of reach but he clambered for what he could. His heart broke all over again, and he still didn't know exactly why. He bowed his head and muttered, "I must have really hurt whoever that was. And have probably continued to do so by never remembering enough to reach out to him. But... It seems it's been thirty years and he's never reached out to me, either," his eye widened as he looked up to Stan, panic edging his words, "I hope nothing bad happened to him." "Me too," Stan agreed, less because of actually caring about this mystery friend and more because, if he was still around somewhere, maybe he could help them. "But, he continued, trying to give his brother any shred of hope, "There could be lots of reasons friends lose touch, though. Even just plain being busy. It could even be 'cause he thinks he hurt you." Ford chomped off another bite of his sandwich and pondered aloud, "South..." He chewed and smacked over toast and turkey as he sorted through the scraps of memory, then swallowed and repeated, "South. South. Southern... He had an accent! A southern accent. I'm not sure if that's what south meant but I remember a drawl and words that drove me crazy like y'all'd've. Ugh, that feels terrible on my tongue. What an abomination to the English language." "So, some guy with a southern accent who was like... your best friend or something?" "I wish I could remember him," he groaned, massaging his forehead as if it might help. "I can almost see his-" Ford's eye closed as he struggled to search his own mind, an image almost surfacing. His eye opened, glowing yellow. "Ha ha," Bill laughed, "Nothing to see here. Oh, sandwiches," he added as if he hadn't just set fire to the tapestry of memories they were so meticulously trying to stitch back together. He took a bite, contorting Ford's brows as he gnawed. "Bleh," he bleated and stuck out ford's tongue, coated in partly chewed mush. "Needs gravy or something," he griped, "It's so dry it's stuck to the roof of Fordsy's mouth. I'm outta here." Stan blinked, staring at Ford. Ford swallowed hard and said, "Your sandwiches are fine, Stanley," before taking another bite. Even if it wasn't true, anything to fill his stomach's grumbling void was fine by him at the moment. "Liar," Stan snorted, his tongue trying to dislodge bits of turkey from the roof of his own mouth. "'S, okay, though. Par for the course for today. Guess I'm glad my pseudo-cooking is so bad it drove him away, though," he said with a shrug. "Well," Ford's words muffled through his mouthful, "They're normally good anyway." "I guess. But uh, speaking of food, I brought a bunch of fresh snack stuff for you," Stan said, nodding toward the tote bags emblazoned with Jack-o'-mellons and slumping against the door. "Oh that's right! Tomorrow is Summerween, isn't it?" "Yeah. I wanted to make sure you have lots of stuff here in case it gets to be too late before I can get down here tomorrow night," Stan explained, "I mean, I'll still bring something for breakfast but it might be earlier than usual." "That's fine." "And you're sure you're okay with-" "Of course! I know how much you enjoy scaring the trick-or-treaters. Have fun with it," Ford encouraged, honestly happy for his brother. He honestly didn't enjoy showmanship as much his brother did, though, he did wish he could dress up, even if he'd been too preoccupied to do so in the days when he was free and able. Staying aboard that train of thought, he asked, "What's your costume this time?" "Eh, recycling the vampire one again," Stan said, drowning a bite of his sandwich in soda. "Classic. Any good scare tactics?" Ford asked, pushing the last bite of his half sandwich into his mouth. "Yeah, I got a few ideas," Stan answered, rubbing a hand across the overgrown stubble on his chin. "I'll set up your security monitor so it gets the feed from the back porch if you want to watch the master of fright at work." "That sounds good," he said and gulped half of what remained of his soda. He opened his mouth to say thanks but the word drew out into a wall-shaking belch. Stan sputtered and laughed. "Good one, Poindexter. Glad to hear you still got it in you without having a most of a six pack in you!" "Pardon me," he squeaked, cheeks reddened as he wiped his mouth. Stan's laughter surged again. He had to heave in a few breaths before finding enough of a pause to answer, "I will pardon nothing! I just hope that didn't register on the Richter Scale!" "Or wake the kids," he added meekly. "Welp, that's it," Stan said, wiping tears from below his fogged glasses. "That's what?" Ford asked, fanning himself like it would extinguish the burning in his cheeks, wondering how weird it would be to pull his sweater's collar up over his head and disappear inside. "Hearing you let one rip like we're kids again is the cure for a bad day."

Notes:

Wkdw eudlqb expsnlq frxog uxlq hyhubwklqj

Codes from past chapters

~With that many broken mirrors, you'd better hope the superstitions aren't true...

~I guess them sharing meals is kind of a theme. I guess instead of "monster of the week", it's "meal of the week." Though, I'm not actually sure how many more chapters will follow this format, if any.

I still have no idea how this is going to end. *dies*

#gravity falls fanfiction #gravity falls #gravity falls au #Stanford Pines #Stanley Pines #Bill Cipher #Stan Pines #Ford Pines #Stangst #the man downstairs fic #the man downstairs au #mo's writing and such

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andrewmoocow · 6 years

Text

Clod on the Run chapter 2: Suffragette Beach City (originally posted on May 21, 2017)

The Guardians of the Galaxy were zooming through the galaxy for their newest job. They were hired by Yellow and Blue Diamond of the Gem Homeworld to hunt down a traitorous Peridot on Earth. Star-Lord was flying their ship while jamming out to Brandy (You’re a Fine Girl) by Looking Glass, Rocket was preparing his surplus of weapons for an eventual battle, Drax was giving Groot a trim and Gamora was just sitting quietly. “Hey G, what’s up?” Star-Lord said turning around to his emerald crewmate. “You’ve been pretty quiet lately since we met the Diamonds, but I guess that’s pretty normal for you.”

Gamora could only groan as she finally spoke. “Do you really want to know guys?” All of the others were curious. “Come on Gamora, we are your friends.” Drax said. “I am Groot.” Groot added. “Yeah, what they said!” Star-Lord replied.

“Alright, you got me.” Gamora stated. “I’ve actually met one of the Diamonds.” The gang could believe what they just heard. “It was before I met all of you, when I was one of Thanos’ minions.”

“Lord Thanos, we are approaching Earth as we speak.” a grey-skinned alien in a black cloak announced to his master. He was Corvus Glaive, member of the Black Order and right hand man of Thanos the Mad Titan. The titan in question was a muscular, intimidating purple alien clad in blue and gold clothing. “Very good Corvus.” the overlord thanked his minion. “I wish to speak with the Diamond controlling this planet and see if the Authority is willing to ally with me.”

“Thanos came to Earth seeking to gain the Gem Homeworld’s trust, but we all know he would’ve betrayed them.” Gamora narrated. By the Mad Titan’s side were three humanoid alien warriors. One was Gamora herself while the other two were a blue-skinned woman with prominent cybernetics and a dark-skinned man with piercing blue eyes. They were Nebula and Korath, Gamora’s two adopted siblings.

“I want you three on guard in case anyone gets suspicious. In that case, attack and kill anyone who dare try to oppose me.” the Dark Lord ordered to his three assassins. “Yes master.” the trio complied. The aliens then touched down on an ancient cloud arena where they came face to face with many Gems of different shapes, sizes, colors and types. “Do not be alarmed.” Nebula announced. “We are here for Pink Diamond.”

“Allow me visitors.” a Gem stepped forward. She was a tall lanky one with flowing pink hair and her gemstone on her midsection. “I am Pearl, Pink Diamond’s servant.” The Pearl extended her hand forward. “I am Thanos of the Titanians. I request an audience with your superior.” Thanos introduced himself to Pearl. “Yes sir, right this way.”

Pearl led Thanos and his children through a crowd of nervous looking Gems to a large pink palanquin where another Gem clad in pink clothing sat. She was guarded by two other Gems, one with orange skin, white hair & her gemstone for a nose and the other was very humanlike in appearance with pink ringlets. “Salutations visitor.” The larger Gem said from her palanquin. “Who are you and what brings you here?”

“Greetings Pink Diamond, I am Thanos of Titan.” Thanos greeted Pink Diamond as he stepped forward, bowing while his minions kneeled. “I have come to your planet wishing to form an alliance with the Great Diamond Authority.” Pink Diamond rose from her palanquin as her two guard followed behind. “Please state your reasoning.” the Diamond spoke.

“You see, I have been hunting for six ingots of awesome power known as the Infinity Stones.” Thanos explained as he brought up a hologram of the artifacts in question. The Stones were of multiple colors ranging from blue, yellow, red, purple, green and orange. “These stones represent a different part of the universe and when brought together with the Infinity Gauntlet, would grant the user godlike abilities.”

All of the Gems present were intrigued by the visitor’s proposition, except for the orange guard. “I don’t like this.” she said.” “You’ll probably just betray and shatter us all!” She tried to attack Thanos but was stopped by her companion. “Jasper, please don’t provoke him!” she cried. “No Rose, we have to protect Pink Diamond!”

“Silence orange fool,” Thanos ordered Jasper. “Your attitude is like a pouty child! Now remain silent or I will have to end you.” Gamora, Nebula, Korath and Corvus pointed their weapons as she shouted “ATTACK!”

The Gems within the arena followed her orders and summoned their weapons. “Very well.” Thanos answered as he snapped his fingers, summoning his army of Chitauri, Sakaarans & Deviants and unleashed them on the arena. The battle was long and hard, with many Gems poofed or shattered during the conflict. Eventually Thanos won after he poofed both Rose Quartz and Jasper.

“I am appalled at such disrespect coming from a servants of the Diamonds!” Thanos boomed in disgust as he handed the gemstones to Pearl. “Forget the alliance, I will find the Stones myself.” He motioned his assassins to follow him as he departed the arena. “Mark my words Pink Diamond, when I gain ultimate power you will be the first to fall.”

“Later on, we received news that Pink Diamond was shattered by one of her own Rose Quartz but Thanos took it as a sign of surrender and remains enemies with Homeworld to this day.”

Gamora finished her story as the Guardians sat there completely stunned. “Jesus.” Peter said. “Hey Quill, did you turn on autopilot?” Rocket asked. “I don’t know, I thought you did.”

That’s when they all realized they were going to crash. “What did you do you idiot?!” Rocket exclaimed as the ship fell downward, catching on fire in the process. “I don’t know, I just got distracted by Gamora’s story!”

“Don’t even think about using that excuse!” Rocket shouted back. “My friends, it has been an honor adventuring alongside you.” Drax proclaimed. “If I die here, then I will die with all of you by my side!” He then pulled Rocket and Gamora close, hugging them incredibly tightly much to their chagrin. “Let go of me you moron!” Rocket exclaimed as he tried to wriggle out of the destroyer’s grasp. “Let my muscles be your shield!”

As the Milano dived closer to the ground, Peter took the wheel and tried to steer them away from their grisly fate, but it was too late.

The Milano was reduced to a pile of scrap metal when it crashed, but luckily nobody died. Peter was the first to awaken. “Oh geez what a fall.” He groaned getting up. “Anyone okay? Raise your hand if your head is still attached.” Groot excitedly raised his hand. “I am Groot!” he cheered as he got up. “Yeah, we’re still conscious Quill.” Rocket said as he popped out of Drax’s tight hug. “Looks like Drax’s abs did save us after all.”

“Yes, my abs are heroes!” Drax shouted as he released Gamora from his grasp. “You know, we could’ve survived crashing if Peter turned on the autopilot beforehand!” Gamora shouted. “Hey, don’t go blamin’ me here G!” Peter said trying to avoid getting in trouble. “Rocket was the one who did it!”

Rocket got angry at Quill trying to place the blame on him and pulled out a rocket launcher. “So I’m to blame for your idiocy?” Rocket barked. “Y'know what, screw Peridot! We’re taking you back to the Diamonds so you can get jammed into the human zoo when we get the ship fixed!”

Star-Lord then pulled out his laser pistol in retaliation. “Not if I bring you in first!” The two aimed their weapons at each other when Groot tried to break up the fight. “I am Groot, I am Groot!” The tree exclaimed as he pushed the two away from one another. Rocket sighed. “Groot’s right, kickin’ each others asses wouldn’t help us get rich.” He then put away his rocket launcher and tried to apologize. “Sorry for lashing out Pete, I guess we were both the idiots here.”

“Apology accepted Rocket.” Peter said ruffling his fur. “Now where can we find some new parts for the Milano?” Groot then pointed towards what looked like a barn in the distance. “I am Groot!” he said. “That’ll do.” Star-Lord said.

The group made their way to the barn, which looked much different from the typical barn. There was a silo jutting out the side, a pickup truck above the entrance with a TV in the back and a small pool near it. “Oy, what a dump.” Rocket said looking at it. “I mean, this place looks like a hodgepodge of useless crap!” Everybody else was quick to agree as they went inside when suddenly they were attacked by several armed drones, but Rocket shot them all down.

In the barn, they were met with what seemed to look like art like a broken tape recorded with a bow on it, a simple leaf taped to a rock and a lineup of toilets. “Is anyone here?” Drax asked around.

“Hey guys check it out, it’s a bunch of toilets!” Star-Lord called pointing at the toilets, laughing. “Very cheeky Quill, but we need to find a way to search for our target.” Rocket said examining the silo that was turned into a makeshift aquarium. There weren’t any fish except for a green alien creature with white stuff coming out of a hole in its neck. “Hate to be that guy. Wonder what happened to him.”

“Hey everyone, I found a vehicle that can get us somewhere!” Gamora called from outside. The other Guardians rushed outside to find her driving a tractor and not doing so good. “It may be slow, but it’ll do.” she said.

“I like your idea Gamora, but it’s gonna need a few modifications.” Rocket stated. “Groot, do we have any spare parts from the Milano that haven’t been destroyed in the crash?” Groot immediately saluted and charged towards the wreckage. “Heh, dis gonna be a cakewalk.” the animal smirked as he placed his hands behind his head. “Oh, are we having cake?” Drax asked.

The Guardians were now on their way to their destination on the tractor, which was now souped up with a turbo engine. They were zooming through the highway, past a pizza-themed car with a few teenagers driving it. “What’d I tells ya gang, this gonna be a piece of cake!” Rocket exclaimed as the wind rushed through his fur. “You said there was cake, but I don’t see anything!” Drax shouted. “I’ll explain later Drax, right after we become rich!” Rocket replied.

Suddenly, the engine broke down and the gang were stuck in front of a sign. “I thought the turbo engine was intact when we crashed.” Star-Lord said. “But the good news is the sign here must mean something good.” The crew got off the tractor and walked around the sign to see that it read ‘Welcome to Beach City.’

“Beach City, eh?” Star-Lord said. “Looks like we might have some fun in the sun when we finish our mission.” The Guardians then looked forward at the town. It looked pretty standard for a seaside town with a boardwalk and amusement park, but one feature they took notice of was a large hill with a stone hand sticking out the side. “Well guys, let’s get cracking.”

The Guardians walked through the streets as they got odd looks from the locals wondering why a cowboy was hanging out with a green girl, a shirtless man, a raccoon and a tree. “You think we look out of place here?” Gamora asked. “I don’t know, maybe it’s because we look like a bunch of freaks!” Peter exclaimed. “We might be tracked down by the government or become topics of crazy conspiracy theorists!”

“Yeah, especially people like that one.” Rocket added pointing to a small child with an onion-like head staring blankly at them. “What’re you lookin’ at kid? Scram!” The child continued to stare at them until he turned and ran, dropping a map from his pocket along the way. “Well that was oddly convenient.” Rocket said as he picked the map and opened it, revealing several locations circled with red marker.

“Okay, listen up folks.” Star-Lord announced looking over the map. “We’re gonna comb the town for our target and we won’t stop until the job is done. Also from now on we’ll be using codenames. You can address me as Eagle One.”

He then gestured towards Drax. “Drax, codename Been There Done That.” Then he moved to Gamora. “Gamora is Currently Doing That.” After trying to high-five her and failing, he pointed at Groot. “Groot is It Happened Once in a Dream.” Finally he pointed towards Rocket who was crossing his fingers. “Rocket is…..Eagle Two.”

“Oh thank God.” Rocket sighed in relief. “So where do we go from here Quill?” He started pointing at various locations on the map. “How about this,” Star-Lord stated. “Groot goes to the donut shop here.” Before he could finish, Groot was already charging to the donut shop. “Guess somebody loves donuts.”

“Rocket, you go the amusement park.” Rocket got a bit excited, wondering about how much junk he could get from there. “Drax, you search the boardwalk and Gamora & I will search the boardwalk. As the legendary Fred Jones once said, let’s split up gang!”

They all dispersed as a curly-haired woman wearing glasses and a short black man watching them turned towards each other. “Say, didn’t that cowboy look a bit like Danny from Fields and Relaxation?” the woman asked.

Groot had already made his way to the big donut when he noticed the large donut sign that read “Big Donut.” Walking inside, he met an orange-skinned teenager with a red mohawk-like haircut and rather peculiar earlobes. “Welcome to the Big Donut, how can I…..” the boy began to speak before realizing that he was speaking to a giant tree thing. “I am Groot.” Groot said. “Nice to meet you Groot, I’m Lars.” the boy, now named Lars greeted nervously. “I am Groot.” Groot replied. “I know that, and I am Lars.” Lars answered.

The exchanges of “I am Groot” and “I am Lars” went on for a while until a short girl around Lars’ age came out of the back door.

“Hey Lars, what’s up?” the girl asked. “This guy came in and all he can say is 'I am Groot!'” Lars replied. “Here, let me talk to him.” The girl walked up to Groot and began to introduce herself. “Hi there uh…Groot, I’m Sadie.” she greeted. “I’m pretty sure you already know about Lars here.”

Groot extended his hand to Sadie. “I am Groot.” he said shaking her hand. “Hey buddy, can you move outta the way?” a voice asked. When Groot turned around, it was an old man with a mustache and sunglasses talking to him. “Yeah I’m talking to ya Deku Tree, you’re holdin’ up the line!”

“I am Groot, I am Groot.” Groot apologized to the man as he began to walk out of the building, but not before taking notice of several paper bags with “Sadie” written on them and taking one. “Hey wait, those aren’t for sale!” Sadie called out as Groot exited. “And he’s gone.”

“What a weirdo.” the old man said. “Now where’s my nut dog?” he asked. “Coming right up Mr. Lee.” Lars said.

Rocket meanwhile was digging through trash at the Funland Amusement Park. “So this is what these so called 'raccoons’ do, just dig through useless garbage?” he asked himself before finding a tin can. “This might be useful.” As he lept out of the trash can, he was suddenly hit by a broom. “Get outta my trash varmint!” the man holding the broom shouted. The man was tall, bald and wore a shirt with various shapes on it. “Who you callin’ varmint big boy?” Rocket shouted back.

The man was completely stunned to see a talking raccoon rummaging through his garbage. “Whoa mama!” he shouted. “A talking raccoon?” Rocket was also stunned. “Seriously, the hell’s a raccoon?!”

“You see little guy,” the man said. “It’s what you are. Bushy striped tail, those ears, that mask around your eyes….” Suddenly he was interrupted by the roller coaster beginning to fall apart. “Dang it Onion!” he screamed as he ran towards the ride. “If you hadn’t blown up my phone, I would’ve called your parents by now!”

“Well,” Rocket said to himself. “That was weird.”

Drax was searching across the boardwalk in search of Peridot, asking various people. He went to the pizza place, the arcade, the fry place and the beach but nobody saw her anywhere. He was about ready to give up and report to his teammates when he heard a small voice.

“Excuse me, have you seen my dog?” the voice asked. Drax looked down to discover that voice belonged to a small green child with triangular hair looking up at him. “What did you say?” he asked back. “I said, have you seen my dog?” The child was very persistent when asking him. “What does your dog look like little one?”

“My dog is orange, chubby, has little legs and a green tail.” the child answered. “I’m sorry, but I do not know about a creature like that.” Drax answered much to her dismay. “But if I do find it, I’ll come tell you.” The child beamed at Drax as she hugged his leg. “Thanks mister!” she said as she let go and ran off. Drax smiled back at her, as she reminded him of his late daughter Kamaria.

But that’s when he realized the child looked very much like the Gem they were searching for. “Wait a minute.”

Star-Lord and Gamora were walking through the streets of Beach City looking for someone who might know the Peridot they were hunting. “Are you sure whoever works at this car-wash might know about her?” Gamora asked. “I’m pretty sure.” Peter replied. “I mean, there’s nothing that can distract us now!”

Then ironically enough, he got distracted by the white van that had the words “Mr. Universe” on it and was immediately starstruck. “Are you alright Pete?” his green compatriot inquired. “Of course I’m alright,” Peter shouted. “That’s the van of Mr. Universe, pretty much one of the greatest musicians on Earth!”

The two walked up to the van to find a beach bum strumming his guitar when he stopped to notice them. “Oh hey, didn’t see you there.” he said. “It’s not often we get visitors that don’t want to destroy Earth.” While Peter was still in awe, Gamora on the other hand was very confused. “This is the legendary Mr. Universe?” she wondered pointing to him. “He doesn’t look like a star.”

“I may not look all that cool now, but I’m still a cool guy to be around.” the man said getting up and reaching his hand towards Gamora. “Name’s Greg Universe.” She reluctantly shook it. Greg tried to get Peter to shake his hand but he was too busy fanboying. “HI MY NAME IS PETER I’M ONE OF YOUR BIGGEST FANS I REMEMBER WHEN MY MOM TOOK ME TO ONE OF YOUR CONCERTS IT WAS ONE OF THE BEST EXPERIENCES OF MY CHILDHOOD!” he blurted out before fainting.

“I’m sorry about your friend sir.” Gamora apologized to Greg. “You see, we came here looking for someone named Peridot. Do you know her?”

“Oh yeah, I do know Peridot.” Greg answered. “She’s one of Steven’s friends who pushed me off a barn roof.” Just then, Peter regained consciousness when hearing about Peridot.

“Wait, who’s Steven?” he asked. “Steven’s my son, a really sweet kid like his mother.” Greg replied as he pulled out a picture of him a picture frame of him and a woman with big pink hair who resembled the Gem from Gamora’s story. “That’s me and her way back when. Her name’s Rose Quartz.”

Star-Lord got quite curious. “What happened to her?” he asked, which made Greg turn quite dour. “She died giving birth to him.” he said. Star-Lord started feeling sorry for him as he already lost his mother when he was a boy. “That’s rough buddy.” he replied. “So anyway, we’re gonna go now.” Gamora interjected grabbing Peter by the shirt collar. “See ya later Greg!” Peter said. “But can you sign my Walkman first?”

Greg was happy to oblige as he pulled out a marker and wrote “To one of my biggest fans, from Mr. Universe” on it. Peter couldn’t help but squee as he was dragged away.

“Anything guys?” Rocket asked as the group reassembled at the shore. “I am Groot!” Groot said happily as he munched on Sadie’s bag. “I met a child looking for her dog who resembled our target quite a bit.” Drax said. “Quill fanboyed over some hopeless bum who used to be a rockstar from his childhood.” Gamora said as Peter continued to stare at his music player.

“I got beaten up by some guy at the park.” Rocket said pawing his face. “Face it, it’s all a lost cause. Might as well give u-” Suddenly he was interrupted by a weird feeling in his tail followed by barking. “Alright, who did that?” he demanded.

“Don’t look at me, it was Drax!” Star-Lord claimed pointing at Drax. “I do not make noises like that, blame Groot!” Drax added. “I am Groot!” Groot exclaimed pointing at Rocket’s tail. There was a small orange creature biting it that looked like a cross between a pumpkin and a puppy. “That’s it!” Drax bellowed pointing at the creature. “That’s the girl’s dog!”

“Wait a minute, what girl?” Rocket said as the child Drax met earlier rushed to Rocket and grabbed the creature. “Pumpkin, I’ve been searching all over for you!” she shouted as she hugged it. “Lapis, I found Pumpkin!”

The Guardians looked up to see a blue figure flying through the sky with wings made of water. When the figure landed, it was actually a blue Gem wearing a blue halter top & skirt with dark blue triangles on them and her teardrop-shaped gemstone on her back.

“Wait, there’s more of them? Star-Lord wondered. “Quiet Quill!” Rocket shushed him. “Thanks for helping us find Pumpkin.” Lapis said to Drax. “Peridot told me you would look for him.” Rocket’s ears started to perk up again. “You’re very welcome miss. I suppose you must be her mother.” Lapis started to look a little sheepish. “No, just her friend.” She then turned around to Peridot. “C'mon Peri, we’re supposed to be visiting Steven today.”

As the two walked away with Pumpkin away from the Guardians, Rocket jumped up and clung to Drax’s chest. “YOU IDIOT!” he screamed in his face. “You had the chance to capture her right then & there and you just let her leave?!” Star-Lord pulled his furry crewmate away from Drax and set him down on the sand. “Hey, no need to start yelling at Drax.” he said. “Besides, we need to follow those two. They said something about visiting someone named Steven.”

“Wasn’t this Steven supposed to be Greg’s child?” Gamora asked. “Yeah, maybe he knows those two.” Peter replied as he glanced toward Peridot and Lapis. “Now how can we follow them without getting caught?” Just then, they noticed a pink lion walking out from behind the Big Donut. “Is that a lion?” he wondered as he and the others watched in confusion. “Why is this animal pink?” Drax asked. “Beats me,” Rocket answered. “Let’s see if it’s friendly.”

The group walked to the lion as it started looking at them. They all stared at each other for a bit until the lion started scratching Groot, which made him giggle. “Yep definitely seems friendly.” Star-Lord said. “I wonder how fluffy his mane is?” He reached out to pet it when it tried to bite him. “Whoa!” he shouted as he pulled his hand out of the way. That’s when he got an idea.

“I have a plan!” he declared. “Oh God no.” Rocket moaned, fearing what he had planned. “We make Rocket pretend he’s roadkill, have the lion bring him to those two and then we break in & attack!” Rocket couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “Why do I have to be the bait?” he complained as Gamora picked him up. “Why can’t we just rip off Groot’s arm and pretend it’s a tree branch?”

“Didn’t you say you wanted to do this job for 5,000 units?” Gamora asked as she stuck her gun-toting chum into the lion’s mouth. “Yeah but not like this!” he cried. “Alright, I’ll play dead.”

“Alright now go to your home.” Drax ordered the lion. It obeyed the destroyer’s command and raced off, with the Guardians in pursuit.

“I’m really starting to regret stealing those Quartz gems.” Rocket moaned as the lion stopped at a beach house sitting beneath a statue of a giant woman with four pairs of arms. “Hey Lion, what you got there?” the voice of a boy asked as it walked outside to the lion. From what Rocket could see, the boy was roughly around his height with brown curly hair, a pink T-shirt with a star on it, blue jeans and pink sandals. “Is that a raccoon?”

As Rocket was pulled out of the lion’s mouth, he tried his best to play dead. “Is he dead Lion?” The lion quietly shook its head. “I’m not sure either, maybe the Gems can help.” The boy rushed Rocket inside the beach house as the other Guardians spied on him. “That small Earth child is the lion’s master?” Drax questioned. “It would’ve eaten him alive by now!”

“No time for questions Drax.” Quill said as he got out of their hiding spot and moved to the beach house. “We’ve got a job to do.”

The boy went inside the beach house with Rocket in his arms and laid him on a table. “Guys, come quick!” he called and five females ran to his side. Aside from Lapis and Peridot, the first was Garnet, a Gem with shades and a square afro. With her was Amethyst who was short, purple & had long pale lavender hair and Pearl, a thin white Gem with her gemstone on her forehead.

“Steven, why did you bring that animal into the house?” Pearl asked. “I don’t think it’s feeling well.” Steven claimed. “Aw come one Ste-man, it’s a raccoon.” Amethyst said. “They’re bound to play dead.”

“Amethyst has a point.” Garnet agreed. “Well, let’s try my healing spit and see what happens.” Steven licked his hand and tried to touch the raccoon with it before it grabbed his hand. The critter was now awake!

“Get your slimy hands offa me twerp!” Rocket shouted. “Wait, it can talk?” Lapis exclaimed. “Of course I can talk,” the furball proclaimed. “There ain’t anybody in this universe like me except me!”

Just then, Drax burst through the window armed with his daggers, laughing like a maniac along the way. “You fell for our trap!” he shouted as he got up. He continued laughing as Star-Lord opened the door. “You know Drax, you could’ve just kicked down the door.” Peter said as he let himself, Gamora and Groot inside. “I know, but jumping through the window is much cooler.” the destroyer replied.

“Okay, first the talking raccoon, then the beefy guy breaking the window and now this?” Amethyst exclaimed. “Who are you?” Garnet shouted as her hands turned into gauntlets. “We’re the Guardians of the freakin’ Galaxy,” Rocket said dusting himself off and joining his team. “And we’re here for that Peridot of yours!”

The words Rocket said alone were enough to get Peridot freaking out. “I knew it, Yellow Diamond has come for me!” she screamed as she hid under the table.

“We won’t let you take Peridot!” Pearl shouted as she took a spear out of her gemstone, followed by Amethyst summoning a whip and Steven a shield. “Yeah, try and stop us chumps!” Amethyst added. “Who you callin’ chumps shorty? Now it’s war!” Rocket exclaimed as he pulled out his laser cannon with Gamora unsheathing her sword, Star-Lord loading his pistols and Groot putting up his fists.

The great battle between the Guardians of the Galaxy and the Crystal Gems has begun.

#guardians of the galaxy #steven universe #fanfiction #crossover #clod on the run #star-lord #gamora #drax the destroyer #rocket raccoon #groot #steven demayo #garnet #amethyst #pearl #peridot #lapis lazuli #pumpkin dog #lion steven universe #cameos from thanos and pink diamond

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artdjgblog · 4 years

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Innerview: Cathy Fishel / Print Magazine August 2005 Image: Print Magazine Note: Interview for the Print Regional Design Annual.

Introduction: Cathy…Sorry you missed me. Sorry to miss you. Thanks for the message (sorry it cut you off in the middle of your phone number). Things are a bit intense as summer brings a new definition of BUSY. Work. Work. Work. Many thanks for the kind words about my work and I. It means so much. Yeah, I am sure it is chore to sift through all of the junk I’ve been dumping on the PRINT headquarters every March for the past three years or so…(I feel like a true failure if I send less than fifty entries). It is funny because just last week I was thinking about the upcoming PRINT Regional Annual and how I had not heard back on if I was selected…and I guess I have been…how many? And what? I am very curious. I had pretty much written it off. Thanks for informing me…I suppose I was supposed to receive notice upon that a while back…what happened there? Same thing happened to me last year. Out of curiosity I called somebody at PRINT last year and sure enough they had contacted me at the wrong address or something like that…I hope that wasn’t the case again. We need to get that straightened out…indeed. Certainly, I am thrilled to participate in this little questionaire. Wow, i’ve always wanted to. You don’t have to worry about smearing my name from anything said. I don’t care. Here we go… 01) How has the pace of business/number of jobs been in the past year as compared to the previous year? The pace is as thick as I want it and when I have sleep to deprive. I’ve always held other jobs and currently work a massive sixty-two hour weekly schedule as a groundskeeper and a janitorial supervisor…thus, cramming design into my pockets…and whenever I can squeeze it in my free time or find it under the pillow in the wee morning. I never actively seek my work due to time constraints and exhaustion…not yet, at least…and besides, the majority is word of mouth. Most of the time I just make stuff. Some of the time I get a nice little call or email and then just make more stuff. 02) Why is it up or down? The numbers (ups/downs) are slim if you stack them to my three previous so-called “professional” years…of course it’s due to my lack of time…fatigue…getting older…and mostly because I don’t really have a definite connection with my clients like I used to…and I don’t live with bands, attend concerts or am around my clients as much as I used to…(in case you’re wondering, my primary source of work is in the local independent music industry). Also, I am not as twenty-four-seven-gung-holike I was when I first started. I’ve accomplished most everything I set out to do at this point…(perhapsI’m just settling and need to mark a new planner?). 03) Has there been any surprises in the past year? Good or bad? Surprises in my work and thoughts come quite often. Sometimes it’s mush. Sometimes they come as sneakeries. The only real surprises come when I get random calls/emails from kind Print editors, designers requesting copies of posters, people wanting to put me in their books, seeing my work in books/magazines next to my inspirations/peers…and recent college graduates persuing job opportunities with my bedroom design operation. It’s all good…never bad…well, the only bad thing would be that I have to shell out good money for the good books that I’m in. 04) Has there been an influx of a new sort of work or client in your office? In the design community as a whole? Honestly, the only new things I approach are the things that come with each new day and in thought. I try to treat each design day new. Nothing I do is new to the worlds, other than in my own. I do thumb magazines a bit and I am a bit of a junky with design/culture and such…and I do keep my eyes open at all times…though, sometimes too much of it can make me not like design or anything. It’s getting to be way over-impacted with the idea that everyone thinks themselves to be a designer. Most of the only new sort of work that really kicks me (or I even consider new) comes from scraps of paper I find and hand painted ghetto signage. Though, if we’re talking professional work, I guess there is some good stuff coming out of the local climate. And of course I guess there is always good stuff coming out of the woods everywhere. Others might lump me in there somewhere. I don’t really know or care. 05) What is the economic climate like there in general? I was bummed when Quik Trip ended their “Cheap Drink Summer” so soonly…however, I’ve always got the Hostess thrift store two blocks away. I always find free junk in the streets and at work in the trash…and I always find great deals on paper and “whatevers” at thrift stores. No matter if I don’t cash in on design…I’ve always got cheap fuel to burn…and I will always barter for goods and services…if the price is right/not right. 06) Have any large clients closed or left the area? Who? Most of the rock ‘n’ rollers are skinny little dudes and I’m the one that’s gaining the weight around my belt and portfolio pit. There have been a few bands that have broken apart and some that have decided to play musician-designer to save money. And combined roles like that don’t always produce wickedly pretty offspring. 07) Has there been any changes in the ways that clients do business with designers (good or bad)? Not really any changes in clients. People still owe me money. Most people still don’t want to pay much or even pay at all for design…though, they are eager to push the products I slap myself onto and I give them free press in books/magazines. Oh well, that’s part of the deal and I knew that from the get go. It’s more than thant anyway. And I still love them…I am sure they still love me…I just don’t make enough from it to eat. But, I do have some wonderful clients that I hope to cradle and/or have them cradle me for a long time…we’ll see. 08) Is the design community tight-knit? Competitive? Friendly? What? I don’t really associate with other designers due to a lack of time and sometimes, simply want. I do have a few I check in on…but mostly I stick to my own guns. Therefore, I constantly hope my cats and girlfriend understand what the heck I’m talking about. It’s mostly mumbles I’m trying to say though…at least I’m entertained. In terms of the local design community…well, I guess the art/design here in Kansas City is looking pretty good. Even though i’m only in my fourth year, through the visual clutter I can see a few improvements. From what I understand, there is a tight-knit community that I’m not really associated with physically. From the outside, the knit appears to be extremely tight though. These days I like to sit at home and hunch my shoulders…and I like to think and be around people/places/things that aren’t necessarily directly connected to the design world, but they are in my personal one (whatever that means). In competitive terms I guess I fell victim to that last December. One of the best things I’ve ever done was stolen at an exhibition. Poor Mortimer was an only child and I’ve nothing to document him. Either I’m getting somewhat popular or I have a backlash. I’m also getting tired of most of the announcement boards to post posters being smaller than one of my posters (time to break out my little hands). 09) What exciting things are going on in the design community? Honestly, I couldn’t tell you. Well, I’m kind of excited to see where this city is headed to as a whole. There are a lot of expensive things being built…new downtown developments/arena…and a ridiculous addition to the Nelson-Atkins Museum of Art that looks like a giant trash bin and/or trailer home. 10) What are you looking forward to in the next year? Any big changes? Anything that you hope will happen? Well, I am getting married this Fall and thus must condense my apartment. I must lovingly adapt to sharing my artifacts, junk, libraries, wall space and work space with a woman. I also plan to start sleeping on a real bed again…and to quit my night job. She is a good one though. 11.) Why is where you are a great place/lousy place to be a designer? Since I’m a one man show, I can take my design anywhere. Though, it helps to have an outlet to a music community…I guess…if I want to continue with that. I guess with this question, it’s mostly all behind the controller. You’ve really got to chop some trees down to be heard…or just put your head down, barrel through them and not really pay attention. And my real dream is to live in the woods outside of a small town near a big city and have the requests come to my porch via arrows…and to make things for myself. I’ve never been one to worry myself about if I’m in the right place or not. As long as my brain is not too sloshy and polluted, I will be fine. 12) What advantages does the midwest hold as a design source for clients? I was born and fed here. It is ok (at times a bit too honky and wonky). I’m happy with the way things have gone so far. I’ve got a meager following here that I suppose “gets it”…and the norm that says, “That’s different.” Though I haven’t really ventured off much in my design life, or simply, life in general. I hear it’s a mighty treat to get out. And I also hear good things about the midwest’s hospitality and friendliness from outsiders and/or people who get out. Perhaps I’ll pack it up one of these days and try some new turf to ooze between my toes. 13) What is the level of student/job applicant talent? Is young talent staying in the area or leaving? It’s really flattering, funny and somewhat depressing to me that I’ve received many offers from recent design graduates who desperately want to work for me. Some are really talented too…and I must paint my sad tale of no funds or time for me to even consider full-time employment with myself. Maybe I’ll just have them move in for therapy…or start my own school with fire poles to slide through the floors of my apartment building and heaping pile of posters to burn for warmth. -djg

#innerviews

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holdyourbreathuntilyouseelight · 7 years

Text

Hands to Myself - Part II

Summary: After Alec comes out to his family, Jace drags Alec to an LGBT friendly strip club so he can ‘expand his horizons’ since he hasn’t even attempted to date or meet anybody new. Alec reluctantly agrees only because he’s grateful Jace is so supportive. While there, his eyes land on an intoxicating man whose body moves so fluidly Alec can’t keep his eyes off of him. Once Magnus is alone with him, he, too, finds himself enraptured by the younger man.

Rating: MA

Genre: Smut, Romance, Friendship, Everyone is Human AU

Author: dylanobrienstyler

A/N: I did my best to be as realistic and accurate as possible so please forgive anything lacking in that department. Please be aware I upped the rating on AO3 from Mature to Explicit FOR A VERY GOOD REASON. The smuttiest, gayest thing I’ve ever posted on here, dear god I’m trash for these smitten kittens.

Title inspired from Selena Gomez’ song of the same name. This is the final part of the two-part series. Feedback of all kinds is very welcome!!

Also can be read on AO3!

Part I on Tumblr can be found here.

Chapter Two - Corruption

Magnus had left Alec alone in the room hours ago, yet he swore he had left a piece of himself behind too.

He had gone back to work, trying to compartmentalize his thoughts as he usually did so he could focus on putting on the best show he could, but his mind drifted against his wishes. He certainly hadn't expected anything that ended up transpiring in that room when he first heard he had been requested for a private dance.

His eyes found the man he had just soloed for shortly after his return to stage, Alec meeting up with a blonde man around his age at the bar and heading out of the door immediately. He felt his heart sink at the concerned looks shared between the blonde and the bartender, knowing both were questioning what had upset the boy.

Magnus swallowed his pride and concentrated on the music, effectively pushing Alec to the back of his mind now that he had left the building for good.

Thankfully, his shift was only a couple hours longer and finally closing time came around. Magnus rushed towards the back room, ready to gather his things and get the hell out of there. He wanted to be alone with his thoughts; he'd clean up and take off his make-up at home.

"Everything okay with you, Mags? Maia said you stole someone's puppy earlier." his coworker and long-time friend Dot said as she sat down next to him.

"I did what?" he couldn't help but ask, bewildered by the statement.

Dot smiled a little. "One of your private requests. She said he left looking like someone stole his puppy. Did you reject him or something? Turn down a marriage proposal?"

Although it wouldn't be the first time he would've had to do so, at least the former, Magnus shook his head. "No, nothing like that. Just a little… sexual awakening for the young man, I think. Always a little rough."

Dot nodded sympathetically. "You've just seemed off since then too. Anything you want to talk about?"

Magnus cast his eyes around to see they were alone, some of the others already gone and the few still around away in the showers.

He wasn't sure if he was ready to talk about it though. Despite spending a lot of the night thinking about it, it wasn't exactly something prideful he was looking to admit.

Unfortunately for him, she didn't miss the guilt settling on his face. "Uh oh. I know that look. Something happened. What did you do?"

"Now, why would you assume I'm at fault here?" he said, hand on his chest in mock-incredulity.

"Because I know you, Magnus. What happened?"

Sensing defeat, he sighed. "I… I may have made a mistake with him. Broke a big rule."

Dot's eyes went round. "Magnus!" she whisper-shouted. "Raphael will kill you!"

"Not if he doesn't find out." he said, rolling his eyes at her dramatics. "Plus, he owes me a lot. I practically raised him."

"I don't think babysitting him every time his parents went away counts as raising him."

"It does when they were as absent from his life as they were."

Dot poked him in the shoulder. "Stop changing the subject. What. Did. You. Do."

Magnus exhaled, thinking back to the raven-haired boy. "Well, things were going well. Everything panning out as expected. He was shy and nervous but overly respectful, if anything. And then, to my surprise, in one heated moment, he leaned forward and kissed me."

His friend watched him carefully, seeming wary by his answer, as if waiting for more. "O-kay… here I thought it was a big deal. Sheesh, Mags, you know we've all had the odd one do that. Just because you didn't rat him out doesn't mean you're the devil. I mean, you said he was young, right? It was probably just a first timer mistake. It's not that wrong to let it slide."

He looked down, knowing he couldn't look his friend in the eye during his true confession. "Well, he pulled back in a panic, apologizing profusely, but I… I was the one who kissed him again."

This time Dot's jaw hit the floor. "Magnus!"

"I know, I know." he groaned. "But, Dot, I can't explain it. Something about him has me feeling a way I haven't in a long, long time. I haven't been able to get him out of my head all night. It's like he shoved all of my rationality and professionalism aside and nestled in like a stray cat."

Dot took his hands in hers, pulling out her best maternal intimidation look. "Magnus… you can't be doing things like that. Raph would lose his shit if he knew you were letting yourself fall for a client, and, more importantly, acting on it while you're working."

"I know." he said softly.

She squeezed his hands. "I'm sorry. I know you don't need the reminder. Are you going to see him again? See if something's really there?"

He blew out a breath. "Doubtful. I think I scared him off for good. That's what I get for freaking out after things finished up."

Dot nodded sympathetically. "Well, go home. Try to get some sleep. Maybe things will look better tomorrow."

Magnus half-shrugged, not even bothering to try to put his heart into her false optimism. "Goodnight, love."

"Goodnight."

Magnus threw his bag over his shoulder and exited out the back door, cutting through the alleyway in the hope of getting home faster.

He needed to get home, wash off, and hopefully rid his mind of the young man who had managed to reduce him to an adolescent with a crush.

"Hey, sexy. Did you come down here just for me?" a slurring voice came, browning teeth shining through a drunken grin as the man stepped out of the shadows.

Magnus felt his stomach clench. The last thing he could handle was one of the men from the club asking for more from him that he was giving. It wouldn't be the first altercation he had, and surely not the last, but tonight was not the night.

His jaw set. "No, I didn't. I'm just passing through. Excuse me."

Magnus made to rush by him, but the older man snagged him by the strap of his bag, pulling him back.

"Oh come on. I've seen the way you dance. You know how to give me what I want. And I want it now."

"You're going to have to look elsewhere." Magnus growled, wrenched his bag back.

The blow to his face took him by surprise, and Magnus found himself sprawled across the pavement before what happened caught up with him.

His arm stung and his hand reached up to touch his cheekbone, an angry mark no doubt forming from the hit he just received.

Instead of verbally responding, Magnus leapt to his feet with surprising speed and spun into a kick that hit the sleazy man directly in the chest, sending him soaring into a pile of garbage bags with a grunt.

"I have those moves because I do martial arts, prick." he spat at the man who was groaning, the wind knocked out of him.

Magnus rushed out of the alley and down the street. He was not going to wait around for him to gain his wits back.

God, he just needed to get home. Separate himself from human beings for a while. This night was just getting worse and worse. If one more thing happened, he swore—

But he was so distracted by his panic, he ended up running headlong into something solid, and, for the second time that night, he found himself falling backwards to the ground.

"Jesus, I'm so sorry. I didn't see you." a worried voice came, and Magnus looked up.

He couldn't control his jaw from dropping.

The man above him seemed to recognize him in the same moment and froze.

"It's not your fault. It's mine. I wasn't watching where I was going. Thank you, Alexander." he murmured as Alec helped him to his feet.

"I… um…. Are you okay?" Alec suddenly asked, catching on that the no doubt bruise forming on his face was not from running into Alec's chest, however solid it may be. "You're bleeding!"

Magnus looked down at his forearm, where he had scraped it after he fell the first time, and forced a smile. "Oh it's nothing. I just ran into somebody who was asking for more than I was giving, and, you know, he didn't like hearing the word no. It's not the first time. Price of the business and all." he rambled, not even sure what he was saying anymore.

Alec's eyes narrowed in concern as he swept his gaze over the Asian man. "Can I walk you home?"

Magnus wasn't sure what to say. On one hand, he'd be breaking about the biggest rule in the business ever. You don't ever let a client know personal details about you, especially your home address. It couldn't have been a more stupid thing to do. Dot would kill him before Raphael even had a chance.

But something about Alec, from the beginning, made him trust that he was a good soul, so Magnus simply nodded, feeling the moisture push at his eyelids at the man's sweetness.

Once at his loft, the walk home virtually silent, Magnus dumped his stuff by the door and gestured Alec to make himself at home. Instead, Alec headed to the bathroom and managed to locate his first aid kit, before instructing Magnus to sit down and working on cleaning up his wounds.

"You don't have to do this." Magnus couldn't help but say as he sat pathetically before the man he hadn't stopped thinking about all night.

"I don't remember you forcing me into it, so I think it's safe to assume I want to." Alec teased gently, grimacing as Magnus' arm twitched when he applied alcohol to his skin. "Sorry."

Magnus shook his head to excuse his apology but didn't speak.

Once his scraped arm was cleaned up and looking less gruesome, one of Alec's big hands cupped Magnus' cheek to angle his face so he could get a better look at the mark.

"Whoever they were, they hit you pretty hard. You probably want to ice that to manage the swelling, but otherwise, I'm afraid you'll just have to wait for it to disappear on its own."

Magnus nodded, his eyes on the floor now, but Alec caught the drop of water that slipped from his cheek, and more followed against his will like a leaking roof.

Without a second thought, Alec moved to pull him into a hug, Magnus burying his face in Alec's shoulder.

"Shh, you're okay. You're fine. You're safe now." Alec murmured, stroking up and down Magnus' back, sliding up to nestle his fingers in his dark hair.

Magnus let himself be comforted. He knew he shouldn't, knew that it wasn't right to ask this of a stranger, but he hadn't felt this vulnerable in a long time. And he felt he could trust Alec somehow. He felt safe with him somehow.

It was part of the reason why he had screwed up so spectacularly at the club before. Alec had kissed him with such surprising gentleness that Magnus found himself completely lost in him and was kissing him again before his brain could catch up. And then Alec held his face in his hands like it was the most precious thing in the world. Even when he was free to touch him, a half-naked man he was clearly very attracted to, Alec stuck with gentle, tender strokes. Strokes that made Magnus feel worshipped, loved even. It was such a contrast to the usual groping and pawing he normally endured that he completely forgot that he hadn't openly volunteered to be alone with Alec of his own accord.

And then Alec spent so much time watching his eyes, not peering at his body like some sort of ogling ape. Magnus was literally gyrating in his lap and Alec was completely entranced watching his face, holding eye contact. It was so intimate it had made Magnus shiver. He had never experienced anything of the sort in the business. He had no idea what to make of the man.

Normally, he had a pretty good sense when a man was about to climax. There were signs of course, especially when you were as close as Magnus was to Alec at the time. He had felt the shortened breaths, the loss of rhythm in his hips, the hardness of his arousal pressing against him. He had known when he was close, even without Alec's whispered warning. In a typical scenario, Magnus wasn't one to wait it out, instead ending things before they got to the point of no return. Sometimes he didn't have a chance to break things up, but he'd at least move away to make sure they didn't soil him too. But with Alec, he wanted to feel him cum. He wanted to experience him climaxing, to feel him spasm in his arms. Alec had been so dignified when he came, the way he sang Magnus' name out like a prayer, the way his body arced and shuddered through every last spasm. He was beautiful. He was downright glorious.

Once the euphoria of bliss passed, Magnus realized he had messed up. That he shouldn't have done such things. And the guilt for taking somewhat advantage of the young man ate at him. Alec had signed up for a private dance, sure, but he didn't sign up for someone to reverse their agreement to watch him come undone. The show was supposed to be Magnus, not Alec.

So he folded in on himself, cursing his actions. He was the experienced, mature professional. He was the one supposed to be the one setting and maintaining the boundaries. And then the familiar look of shame had settled into Alec's features, and he remembered how inexperienced the boy was. He knew the look, knew the shame coating his skin was the fault of the fact that Magnus was a man who invoked such sexual pleasure that he climaxed right then and there. So Magnus crossed the room and praised the boy for his bravery, because he was brave. He not only gave himself over to a stranger, let himself be so vulnerable, but he had come to the club in the first place, agreed to something terrifying, and managed to do it all with great dignity and maturity despite his intense nerves. He knew many in a similar position who handled things entirely different and he couldn't help but admire him for it. He was on the difficult road to acceptance and part of that was the rocky pathway of enduring scary experiences like giving up control so you could feel what you really feel. He had a feeling Alec wasn't one to give up control easily either.

Magnus managed to get a hold of himself and pulled back from the kind man, blushing now. He wasn't sure it was noticeable given the mark on his face and his naturally darker skin tone, but he didn't want to meet Alec's eyes to find out.

"Hang on. I'll be right back." Alec murmured, disappearing again.

Magnus didn't really feel like moving anyways, the weight of the day pressing on him, and Alec returned a moment later with a bottle of make-up remover and some cotton facial pads.

Magnus felt the briefest of smiles ghost across his lips as Alec got to work cleaning off his face from the smudged, tear-stained make-up he was currently sporting. Well, if he was hoping to impress Alec on their next meeting, he was doing a bang-up job.

Alec worked silently, his brow furrowed in concentration as he worked, and Magnus tried not to find it endearing. He had a feeling Alec was sort of the intense type.

"Better." he said after a few minutes, leaning back to admire his handiwork.

Magnus certainly felt cleaner. He stood gingerly.

"Thank you. I'm just going to jump in the shower really quick. You know, try to wash off that creep."

Alec nodded and Magnus disappeared into the bathroom, hoping the water would clear his head.

Alec sat on the couch after cleaning up everything he had dragged out there, drumming his fingers against his thigh. The way Magnus had stated it, he assumed he was expecting Alec to be there after he got out. Or should he leave? He wasn't really sure what the protocol was. Was there a guidebook for what to do when you walk your stripper home after he's been attacked and you gave him first aid?

Alec let his eyes drift around the room. He couldn't help but be amused at how Magnus-like the loft was. Eccentric, elegant décor and a lot of bold colours and choices. A lot like how Magnus dressed at the club. Alec figured the bold side to him wasn't an act.

Alec noticed some mail on the coffee table. They were addressed to Magnus Bane. So Magnus was his real name? For some reason, the confirmation made him smile.

The identified man returned after a few minutes in just a silk robe, hair damp but looking much more like himself, sans make-up. He sat next to Alec, sending him a tender smile.

"Thank you, Alexander. For everything. You didn't have to come to my aid like that. I appreciate your concern, however, and that you helped me in my time of need."

"It was nothing." Alec said, rising to his feet. This was sounding like a polite farewell, and he figured he should take the hint and get going.

Magnus watched him inquisitively. "What were you doing roaming around alone at that hour anyways?"

Alec corrected his throat, not meeting the older man's eyes. "I, uh, couldn't sleep. So I went for a walk."

"You do know New York can be a dangerous city to wander alone in, right?"

"Well if I didn't before, I certainly know now." Alec reminded him, a sly smirk resting at the corner of his mouth.

Magnus tried to hide a smile and failed. "Something troubling you, Alexander?"

Alec didn't know what to say. It was sort of awkward to admit that he had been so wrapped up in thoughts about Magnus that he hadn't been able to sleep. He lay in bed for a couple hours before giving up, even the alcohol he consumed not helping encourage slumber.

"Just… couldn't shut my brain off, I guess." he said with a shrug.

Magnus stood to meet him, noticing now the height difference between them despite having walked next to him earlier. Alec had been sitting for most of the night before that, so he hadn't quite seen it for himself, but he didn't mind it at all.

"You have nothing to be ashamed of, you know. Feeling how you feel." Magnus stated.

Alec wondered in a panic if he could somehow read his thoughts, understand that Alec had developed stupid feelings for the man he barely knew in a very short period of time. But then he continued.

"I see it a lot at Pandemonium. Some people are comfortable with their sexuality, some are still battling some inner demons despite accepting it in some ways, and others are merely questioning. You seem to have mostly accepted yourself."

Alec nodded. "I, uh, come from a strict family who weren't exactly thrilled at the revelation. It's been… tough. Trying to balance being myself and being the son my parents want."

Magnus' eyes grew sorrowful. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay. I have really supportive siblings. Hence my reason for meeting you tonight in the first place."

"Ahh, your friend at the club?"

He nodded. "My brother Jace. Adoptive, technically, but he's been family long enough it feels the same."

"Any other siblings?"

"Two. My younger sister Isabelle and my little brother Max."

"So you're the oldest."

He nodded.

Magnus smiled, understanding the man before him a little more already. He had a certain level of expectations put on him, likely by his parents but no doubt by his own hands as well. Wanting to be a role model for his siblings, wanting to please his parents' wishes. Being gay under a strict household with all of those expectations hanging over your head would certainly be tough.

"What about you?"

Magnus shrugged one shoulder slightly. "Just myself, I'm afraid. My parents are long gone as well."

Alec's expression changed. "I'm sorry."

Magnus waved a hand, dismissing his concern. "It was a long time ago. I've done fine on my own."

After the words left his mouth, he wondered if Alec would agree, considering where they met. Not everyone supported the lifestyle he lived. He knew it could be tough to swallow.

And then of course, there was the way he behaved during their private session.

He took a deep breath. Now was as good a time as any, since the opportunity had presented itself. "I feel like I owe you an apology."

A line formed between Alec's brows, confusion etched on his face. "Why?"

"For what happened earlier tonight. At the club."

Alec felt his skin burn hot in embarrassment. Oh god, Magnus had read his mind and he was going to let him down gently. Apologize for leading him on. Tell him about the psychological facts behind clients falling for strippers, throw statistics at him so he didn't feel like a complete freak.

He should just run. Just run straight out of there and never look back.

But he was glued to his spot, eyes completely locked on Magnus.

"I… I crossed the professional line with you. It was my mistake. I shouldn't have taken things as far as I did. It started catching up to me after we finished up that I was taking advantage of you…"

But Alec cut in. "Taking advantage of me how? I kissed you first, remember?"

"That was just you, being caught in the moment…" Magnus dismissed. "I was the one who took things further."

"Did you hear me complaining?" Alec asked, flaring up a little at the idea of Magnus beating himself up over the best part of his night. "Magnus, I literally got off while you kissed me because I enjoyed it so much. Do you honestly think I hadn't been wanting to do that all night? I wanted a lot more than that, but I didn't want to push and get kicked out or get you in trouble and I thought it was all me and you were just being good at your job… I couldn't sleep tonight because my mind kept drifting back to you, wondering if I upset you or grossed you out when I came in my pants like a pubescent schoolboy…"

Magnus didn't even realize he had stepped closer until he felt Alec's body heat bleed into the thin layer of his silk robe. He clued in rather quickly how undressed he was.

Alec was standing before him, chest rising and falling rapidly from his passionate argument, and Magnus felt longing light up his spine.

"Alexander…"

Alec looked down, seeming to try to gather his thoughts. "Look, it's fine that you don't feel this… connection to me that I feel to you. I get it. I'm young, I'm inexperienced, and I'm the last thing someone like you would be interested in. But don't try to push the blame onto yourself for the sake of my dignity. I know I screwed up. I'm sorry for that. I signed off on that stupid rule list and I still managed to mess up. But I know it was one-sided and you were just being nice, to make me feel less stupid. So don't… don't try to spare my feelings by blaming yourself."

Magnus was finding himself stepping closer, straightening up his posture to level with the man better, his air entering and exiting his lungs quicker too. He couldn't believe the blasphemy coming from the younger one. Did he really have no idea how captivating he was?

"Quite the contrary. Feeling you get off nearly set me off too, or could you not feel how aroused I was? My job, normally, is the very opposite of arousing, despite what it might seem. It's all groping hands and emotionless exchanges, faking smiles and attraction while going off to gag about it later." He turned away in shame. "But then I'm with you and I'm ready to climb you like a tree… The things I want to do to you, Alexander…"

And that was all he could take. He wasn't even conscious of his actions. All Alec knew was that he was suddenly crushing Magnus against his chest, lips descended on his as he kissed him fiercely on the mouth.

Magnus faltered a little, surprised, before groaning and knotting his fingers in his black hair, kissing him back just as hard.

This was the kind of passion he had been missing from the boy earlier—the guttural lust that he was acting on now made it clear he was as deep in as Magnus was. He loved the tender, gentle side too, but his attraction to the man before him left his desire running the show.

Alec was backing him up to the couch, causing Magnus to perch on the edge of the arm rest, stretching desperately to reach him. Alec's hands tucked under Magnus' thighs and guided him to wrap his legs around his waist. Magnus wasted no time in acquiescing, tugging his locked legs so their pelvises could meet deliciously. Alec wasn't the only one who whimpered at the friction. There were so few layers between them, but somehow too many at the same time.

For someone inexperienced, Alec certainly appeared to know what he was doing. His hands had found Magnus' lower back and was helping to support each thrust his hips pushed forward. Magnus' fingers tugged on the hem of Alec's shirt impatiently, and Alec yanked it over his head as if clothing was the most inconvenient thing invented. It almost made Magnus laugh right then, despite the heat forming between them.

But then Alec's mouth was placing scorching, open-mouthed kisses along his throat and he could barely concentrate on anything else. His fingers scratched at Alec's scalp, encouraging his motions, tightening his legs around his waist so he knew he very much liked what he was doing.

Alec's lips closed around his Adam's apple, smirking a little at the way it bobbed in retaliation, and then he switched to nibbling at the junction between his neck and collarbone, his hot tongue lathering over the spot as some sort of sensual finale.

All Magnus knew was this had to be one of the hottest make-out sessions he had had, and he wasn't exactly an innocent when it came to lovers.

His fingers found Alec's waistband and he worked on getting his zipper down and freeing the hardness he could feel beneath the material. His mind was so clouded with arousal he didn't even think to stop and ask if it was okay, his mind completely forgetting that Alec was less experienced despite his expertise showing otherwise.

But Alec seemed just as desperate, stepping back from his tight hold so he could push the pants over his hips. He kicked them away irritably before going back to what he was doing.

Magnus distracted him by finding his mouth with his own again, his nails scraping through Alec's chest hair and down to his toned abdomen. He'd have to ask him about his workout regime later because Alec could very easily blend in at Pandemonium with the incredible body he had. Magnus' hands could barely find a spot to stay, wanting to touch all of him, to fully consume the man before him.

There was a happy trail of dark hair leading to below his boxer brief's waistband, where the bulge of arousal was pressing against Magnus. He finally gained enough oxygen to fuel his brain cells into speaking coherent English.

"Alexander… are you sure you want to keep going? This feels like it's heading in a very specific direction and I don't want you to feel like you have to do this to keep me interested. Trust me, I'm interested. In more than just your body."

Alec was panting hard now, leaning his weight into Magnus to keep himself steady. His hair was mussed, lips plump and dark, and Magnus was a little proud at how thoroughly corrupted he looked. He looked like walking sex.

"I know. I am for you too." he said, and Magnus shivered at the husky quality to his tone. "But this… feels oddly right. I don't know how to explain it, but I've felt magnetized to you all night… It feels like this, me and you, was inevitable."

Magnus' eyes widened at the proclamation, surprised at the confession that coincided with his own feelings. He had felt a pull to Alec almost instantly and he too felt as though there was something stronger dragging them together.

"Okay. But you tell me, no matter how far things get, if you want to stop at any time, okay?"

Alec nodded, pulling him into another deep kiss to distract him before he jolted his own hips to help gain leverage to lift Magnus up into his arms. Magnus whined into his mouth, pressing his body flush against his lover's, and Alec attempted to find the bedroom without separating them too much.

"We could've done things out there, you know. I wouldn't have minded." Magnus teased against his ear as Alec climbed on top of him on the silk sheets.

Alec rolled his eyes. "Forgive me for wanting to be a gentleman."

The look of adoration Alec had caught at the club earlier in the night shone through Magnus' eyes again, and this time Alec leaned down to kiss him softer, slower, taking his time to tumble his lips over the other man's.

Magnus immediately met his pace, hands sliding languidly down Alec's muscular back, skimming across his ass and back up again.

He didn't miss the little twitch his intimate touch invoked, and his lips curled up in a smile against Alec's mouth.

"Shut up." Alec grumbled.

Magnus laughed, effectively breaking the kiss. "I didn't say anything."

Alec chose not to respond, instead zoning his eyes on the gaping robe. So far it was only giving him a good view of the expanse of Magnus' chest, but he knew it was hiding more. More that he couldn't wait to reveal.

But of course, his nerves were beginning to settle in. It was only natural now that his adrenaline was dying down. His instinct had taken over when he was fueled by frustration and pent up sexual tension, but now, as things settled into a more comfortable rhythm between them, his anxiety found time to awaken.

Magnus seemed to catch on, his eyes reading the change in expression. Alec had been completely dominant and in control when his body was leading things, but now it seemed his mind was battling to overthrow it.

"Hey. We can take things slow." Magnus reminded him.

Alec breathed through his nose. "I just… haven't really done… much of anything. I wish I knew how to avoid disappointing you."

Sensing his emotions catching up with him, similar to at the club, Magnus tugged so Alec was lying next to him, switching to his side so he could look at him properly.

"Alexander. Don't psyche yourself out. I may be experienced, but this is my first time with you, which makes me vulnerable too. I don't know your preferences, or what you like. It's about discovering each other, and sometimes it can be a bumpy road. We just need to communicate with each other and try to relax and enjoy it."

Alec remembered a similar spiel at the club before his private dance and exhaled slowly. He was right, of course. Alec just had a hard time convincing the rest of him to stop thinking and let himself go.

Magnus reached out to touch his face, rubbing his thumb across Alec's cheekbone. "The only way you will disappoint me is if you don't speak up when you're uncomfortable in any way, okay?"

Alec finally found his lungs working on their own better and nodded.

Sensing a win, at least for now, Magnus crossed the distance between them and began kissing him again.

Alec forced himself to relax and focus on the feel of Magnus' mouth on his own, moving closer as Magnus' tongue licked its way inside his mouth.

He hooked an arm around Magnus' waist and lifted him so he was lying on top of his chest, causing Magnus to twitch his hips in reaction.

"What?" Alec couldn't stop himself from asking, wondering why Magnus seemed to enjoy that quite a bit.

He rolled his eyes to the heavens. "I'd explain, but then you'd probably argue with me for ten minutes, and I'd rather get naked with you."

Alec's body was the one who reacted that time, his bulge of arousal nudging against Magnus' growing erection.

He moved forward to kiss him again, and, with newfound confidence, began slipping Magnus' robe down his arms and off the bed in a graceful swoop.

Finding the strength to open his eyes, he let his eyes roam down the length of Magnus' body, and just as quickly threw his head back against the pillow in anguish.

Magnus tried to keep his amusement at bay, instead kissing along Alec's neck at an attempt at a distraction.

"Like what you see?"

Alec turned his head and made a muffled groan into the side of the pillow. "I'm most definitely gay. Didn't really doubt it before but there's no denying it now."

Magnus grinned, and Alec couldn't help but smile as he gazed back at him. It was still pretty surreal that he was in bed with the magnificent man that he was. That Magnus wanted him too.

Determined not to waste a minute of it, he cradled a hand behind Magnus' head and pulled him into a heated kiss, hissing in desire as Magnus deliberately rubbed his hardness into Alec's clothed one.

Alec bit his lip as he wriggled underneath Magnus, slipping a hand between them to push his underwear down.

Magnus caught on quickly and helped him remove it, giving a similar noise of appreciation Alec had allowed his nakedness.

Both bare-skinned and exposed, Alec wasn't really sure what to do next. He knew this was sort of the beginning, and he knew from his own personal education on the matter about the logistics to get to the end, but the middle where things got built up to reach that end, he wasn't so sure.

Thankfully, Magnus knew was he was doing and stretched above him to get at his night table drawer.

He slipped a bottle out of the wreckage and left it to the side as he crawled up to meet their mouths again.

"I'm going to touch you, okay?"

Alec made an unintelligible sound but nodded quickly, bracing himself for the oncoming pleasure so he didn't lose complete control. Still, when Magnus' slicked hand made contact with his sensitive flesh, his hips bucked upwards into the closed fist against his wishes.

Magnus didn't let it slow his motions though, his strokes starting out slow and lengthy before picking up pace.

"Magnus…" Alec moaned, arching his back to get himself closer to the tightness surrounding him.

He was gorgeous like this, Magnus couldn't help musing, as Alec gripped the silk sheets in his fists, his skin flush and his body in complete control again. Seeing him losing himself to his pleasure was intoxicating.

Alec's hand clawing at his arm caught his attention and he slowed his hand's movements.

"It's too good… I don't want this to end so soon…" Alec mumbled, his voice catching when Magnus' wrist twisted a little as he removed his hand.

Once he had a hold of himself, Alec propped up on one elbow and scooted over to where Magnus was lying. He wasn't really sure what he should do next, but he knew he wanted to try being a more active participant. The only thing was that he had never tried anything sexual on anyone else before, so he wasn't exactly confident in how to get Magnus to the overly pleased mess he had managed to get him to twice in one day.

However, what Alec lacked in experience, he made up for in determination, and he was damn well determined to make Magnus feel even half as good as he had made him.

"Can I touch you too?" Alec murmured, the idea already making his skin shiver.

"Of course." Magnus replied, fingers teasing at Alec's dark locks. He seemed so very at ease, and the comforting feeling of his hand in his hair gave Alec an idea.

Shimmying down the length of the bed, Alec got comfortable on his knees on the rug. He made sure to pull the lube down to his end and spread his hands up the tops of Magnus' thighs.

Magnus seemed to catch on to where he was going since he exhaled heavily, his body curling up on itself in preparation of what was to come.

Alec ran his thumbs up his inner thighs, spreading his legs a little more and trying to figure out how to best situate his lover's body. He hadn't ever had something of this nature done to himself but had seen plenty of visual evidence during his time alone, so he guided Magnus' legs over his shoulders and nestled himself closer to the heated flesh before him.

He was happy to see his own pleasure had had an effect on the older one's anatomy, and he grasped the firm appendage in his hand. With a drizzle of lube on his palm, he slid his hand down to the base, somewhat fascinated by the neatly trimmed hair around there. He supposed Magnus' lifestyle sort of dictated things like that, but he'd be lying if he said it didn't lessen some of the intimidation of taking him deep into his mouth.

Magnus had only twitched under his touch, remaining quiet so far, and Alec had a feeling it was to avoid scaring him off. He was practically equivalent to a skittish deer; one wrong move or slightest of noises, and off he would run, never to look back.

However, once Alec let his lips surround the head, Magnus let out a guttural moan that sounded near primal in nature. It made it very hard for Alec not to grin in pride.

Instead, Alec ventured further, using his hand to massage the opposite end as he kitten-licked at the tip and along the length. He tested different techniques, using different pressures and amount of tongue, soft kisses and hard sucks along the skin and behind to where his other sensitive flesh lay, but the best was the most obvious—when he took Magnus fully in his mouth.

Magnus keened once he was fully enveloped in Alec's mouth, his fingers raking through his hair in encouragement. He was trying to control his hips from thrusting forward into the wet heat, knowing that that would be too much too fast, but it was extremely difficult, especially when he sat up to see the twinkle of utter excitement in Alec's eyes.

Alec sucked deeper, breathing better through his nose now that he was starting to get the hang of what he was doing and the nerves were subsiding, and he tried his best to apply pressure with his tongue to the vein pulsing beneath the shaft. The weight of Magnus in his mouth was oddly satisfying, Alec gradually taking in extra length as he tipped his chin to let more of him in, and Magnus' shaky petting to his hair alerted him that he was doing just fine.

After a few enjoyable moments, Alec pulled back, mostly to gulp in oxygen, but he let the tip of his tongue slide between the glistening slit at his head, and Magnus' whining gasp was proof that his instincts were better than he anticipated.

He couldn't stop the proud beam from gracing his face and he climbed up the length of Magnus' body, pressing kisses all along the definition of his torso as he ascended and then across the expanse of Magnus' handsome face. He was especially tender over the sore spot on his cheekbone, wanting to leave a different reminder on the painful skin.

Before Alec could ask about borrowing a toothbrush, Magnus pulled him into a heady kiss, knocking Alec breathless for another time that night. He didn't seem to care where his mouth had been, more focused on making his gratitude known.

"I want to try something else. If you're up for it." Alec explained quietly, once they had managed to separate.

Magnus, intrigued, slipped his fingers between Alec's, interlocking their hands. He squeezed reassuringly. "What's on your mind?"

Alec bit his lip, not really sure how to voice what he was thinking without stumbling on the words in embarrassment. He wasn't one to expose himself so bare, despite what his current attire dictated.

His tongue wet his lips before he spoke. "I wanted to… try taking things… one step further." He peeked up to read Magnus' expression, hoping he'd understand what he was getting at.

It seemed to dawn on him a moment later, eyebrows jumping in surprise.

"Alexander… You know penetration isn't the only way to have sex, right? That's a heteronormative idea that's outdated. What we've been doing, what other ways we can give each other pleasure… all of that can fall under the same realm as intercourse."

Alec nodded. "I know. I just… I'm curious." he mumbled, feeling the blood rushing to his cheeks now. "I'm sorry. We don't have to. If you don't want to, it's fine—"

Magnus cupped his face with one hand to turn his face to him. "I didn't say that." he said softly. "I just don't want you to feel like we have to hit every item on a checklist tonight. I don't want you to be a one-night stand, Alexander. I want to get to know you more, inside and outside the bedroom. But if you're eager to try more tonight… well, I'm up for that too."

Alec's eyes went round. "Really?"

Magnus chuckled. "You are really oblivious to your allure, my dear."

Magnus sat up, crawling down to where the lube was and slicking his own hand up with it. Alec was confused at first before Magnus lay back and spread his legs, and then, well, he was rather distracted watching Magnus touch himself where he couldn't see.

Magnus spoke as if he wasn't intimately engaged in his own foreplay. "Did you have preference on position? I figure it'll be easier due to my past experience if you top this time around."

Alec nodded quickly, trying not to jump out of his skin. It was already so much. He was secretly grateful Magnus was taking care of things himself, as he wasn't sure he could handle it after how incredible the night had already been. The fact that he held it together so far was a tough feat.

"I probably won't last long." Alec admitted, wondering if he was setting Magnus up for something he couldn't see through to the end.

Magnus tugged his hand in his own so he moved closer. "That's okay, love. I'm enjoying just being with you."

Alec smiled into their kiss, finding it easy to relax when Magnus was kissing him so tenderly. Even in the more heated kisses, there seemed to be some hidden gentleness behind each brush of his lips, as if marking him with affection every time their lips met. It was tantalizing, getting lost in the warmth of Magnus' mouth, his tongue, the feel of his hot breath intermingling with his own. Alec almost forgot what was yet to come until Magnus was moving his legs to encircle Alec's waist.

Alec got to his knees on the bed, looking down at his lover, who was glistening with a light sheen of sweat due to the night they had had already. Strands of hair were sticking to his forehead, his swollen lips between his teeth, but his eyes were bright and sparkling with something he couldn't quite put his finger on.

"I've opened myself up some. It may take some time but my body should adapt once you're inside me." Magnus explained, fidgeting on the bed so he was at a better angle.

Alec felt his legs quake, unable to believe what was happening. How the hell did he even get here?

Magnus held up a hand and stretched to dig into his drawer again, producing a foil packet.

“Magnus, I’ve never… been with anyone else. And I trust you.” Alec told him, eyes darting away a little in bashfulness.

Magnus smiled as he helped him put it on. “I trust you too, Alexander. And Raphael forces us to get monthly screening tests, even if it hadn’t been ages since I’ve been with anyone. But it also makes for an easier clean-up, you know.”

Not able to argue with that, Alec waited until he removed his hands before he concentrated on the task at hand.

Inhaling a deep breath, he pushed himself closer, grasping onto Magnus' thighs to help guide his body correctly to where it needed to go.

The first nudge into the ring of muscle nearly made him collapse onto Magnus' chest, it being too long in the evening since he had been touched there, and Magnus reached up to press encouraging kisses to his chest.

Breathing in again, Alec rocked his hips forward, and this time it was Magnus who reacted, his back curling as he dug his head into the mattress.

A spark of confidence lit inside Alec's chest, and he gripped Magnus' thighs tighter as he did his first proper thrust.

Another groan sounded from the man beneath him, and Alec wasn't sure if it was pleasure or pain, or maybe a mix of both.

"Keep going." Magnus rasped, clutching at Alec's back now for something to anchor himself to.

Alec obeyed, rolling his hips again, and again, and Magnus was soon meeting them with a thrust of his own. The tight fist that had grasped Alec earlier was barely preparation for the feeling of Magnus' taking him in. The hot clenching around his arousal was making his breaths come out in short spurts, feeling the fire lighting his spine like a flame getting out of hand.

Alec clasped one of Magnus' hands in his, fingers interlaced, digging their locked fist into the mattress as his other arm supported him above him as he snapped his hips up into his lover earnestly, chasing the burning that was finding his nerve endings. He hoped Magnus was as close as he was.

Magnus was a writhing mess below him, having left scratches on every bit of skin of Alec's he could grab, clawing at his back with his free hand as Alec found his sweet spot.

It seemed he knew as soon as he had, since he moved a hand to tug up Magnus' thighs so he could hit it again, and Magnus was seeing stars behind his eyes as he wheezed Alec's name like a plea.

And then Alec was falling, hips losing all rhythm and control, legs quaking as his back bowed in defeat while his orgasm ripped through him like a grenade. He was burying his face in Magnus' chest, higher octave whines slipping through his lips as he endured the best high of his life.

Magnus was spilling through his own shortly after, sucking in bursts of air as his body rumbled through the current of white hot pleasure.

Alec stayed inside him for an extra moment, reveling in how intimately close he felt with another human and one so special, before freeing them both and flopping in a heap next to Magnus.

He removed the used contraceptive, tying it in a makeshift knot before sending it sailing into the garbage bin next to the night table.

Once back to earth, Magnus leaned over the edge of the bed and used a fallen throw blanket to clean them both up some. Then his hand settled into Alec's damp hair, teasing the strands while Alec caught his breath.

Alec finally rose his head to take in his expression.

All he was met with was a lazy, loving smile and he couldn't help but return one of his own.

"Sleepy yet?" Magnus murmured, settling back into the pillows.

Alec simply grumbled like a moody cat and nuzzled into his side, curling his leg around Magnus' thigh and listening to the steadying of Magnus' heart as it calmed into a slower pace. Magnus' knuckles ran light strokes over his back, until they too slowed and sunk to a simple, loving hold.

Once Magnus was safely in dreamland, Alec realized he hadn't exactly told anyone where he was going earlier when it was simply a night walk through the city, as the last thing he expected to happen was to be falling asleep in the arms of a man he was crazy about.

Managing to find his phone in his discarded clothes while still holding on to Magnus with one arm, Alec sent a quick text to his brother.

Hey, so, you know how I said I wouldn't find my romantic awakening at a strip club? Yeah… about that... How do you think Mom and Dad will take me dating a stripper?

#malec #malec fanfiction #malec au #stripper!magnus #innocent!alec #alec lightwood #magnus bane #shadowhunters #shadowhunters fanfiction #prompt #my writing #smut #gay smut #to the nth degree tbh #I spent half of writing this fic running around my house trying not to scream at myself #that's the kind of nerd I am ok

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yuriplisetskysglove · 7 years

Text

If Only Time Would Wait For Us

So... I was tired, and started watching Theory of Everything. Keyword: started. I couldn’t get past the first half of the movie because my heart couldn’t take it, I just couldn’t watch it alone. Instead, I had a terrible idea that will most likely get me killed by basically everyone in this fandom and I apologize in advance for the angst. Written on the spot, so I’m sorry if it’s a bit raw and sketchy. Please tell me if you find any grammar or spelling mistakes, and typos ! One-shot under the cut.

Summary: There is a place, made for all kinds of dreamers. A school for people who want to live through what they love. For people who do live through what they love. Yes, these people are believers. This is the story of a boy who kept dreaming until the very end. Otabek Altin is a third year music student at Raein University. He has everything an 18-year-old would dream of: great family and friends, a motorcycle, passion. Or so he thought, until he met him. Yuri Plisetsky is the adoptive brother of a Raein probationer. A second year, attending the arts degree course. He is everything an ordinary student would dream of being. Talented to no ends, beautiful, popular despite his snarky remarks. They find out how complementary they are, like souls calling on to each other from each side of a battlefield. A battlefield called Time.

Warning: Extremely angsty.

Raein University. The school of dreamers, of believers, of all people who hope to live through love. This is where Otabek Altin studies. He has been for the past two years, and he now is beginning his third. This place, that at first looked so big, too big maybe, now felt like home. And as soon as he entered the great iron gates, a warm feeling started spreading in his chest. He parked his motorcycle, and then headed for the gymnasium where the Entrance Ceremony was to be held. They still hadn’t opened the doors; and there were students everywhere, talking with old friends, or perhaps making new ones ? He didn’t know. What he did know however, was that he was looking for his very own group of friends. Amid the crowd, he got sight of a mass of red hair, and he almost had to force his way to his best friend, Mila Babicheva. He patted her shoulder, and the Russian lady turned around with a huge grin across her face.

‘Why, if it isn’t our little Otabek ! How have you been ?”

‘We’ve seen each other like, two days ago, Mila’, Otabek smiled.

‘Yeah well, if I want to be polite for once, why not let me be ?’

They started talking, just like they did everyday, about what songs they had been listening to during summer, about Mila’s last few compositions she had been posting on YouTube, about Otabek’s playlist for their next party - which was due to that very night -, about their classmates they were impatient to see again, about Mila’s girlfriend Sara and how much she loved her and missed her already... It was an ordinary day that felt extraordinary. And Otabek had a feeling it wouldn’t stop there. The rumbling of the doors against the ground interrupted them, and they joined the many, many students, to seat onto the ever-so-uncomfortable plastic chairs. Chairman Feltsman then started his usual welcoming speech, standing so tall on the already high stage. To be completely honest, neither Otabek nor Mila really listened to his words. They knew about school rules already - and had been joyfully breaking them for the past two years. They also knew their teachers, and they all looked as bored as the students.

‘Now, I would like you all to welcome Mr. Plushenko’s trainee for this year.’

A tall man stepped out of the teachers’ line, and you could hear people gasping and squealing everywhere in the room. He was handsome. Very handsome. Silver hair fell before his face; turquoise eyes shining brightly as his mouth curved into a heart-shaped smile.

‘Hello everyone’, he claimed in a loud, cheery voice. ‘I am Viktor Nikiforov ! Nice to meet you all ! This year, I’ll be working under Mr. Plushenko - hope you’ll treat me well ! I have plenty of ideas I’d like you to try, so I’m counting on you, music students !’

‘How old does he think we are’, Mila snorted. ‘Funny guy, though, I can totally see why Plushenko took him as a trainee. He’s every bit as extra as him.’

‘By the way, please be nice to my little brother too ! He’s right there - hey, Yurio ! You also have to be nice to your comrades, alright ?’

Everyone turned to follow the probationer’s gaze, up to a boy who had just stood up, looking like every inch of his body had turned into raw fury. He seemed frail, though. His blonde hair hid his right eye, while his left was a stunning, pale green. His cheeks had gotten red of anger - or was it embarrassment ? - as he started screaming at his older brother.

‘Shut the fuck up, Viktor ! How many times have I told you to mind your own goddamn business ?!’

‘Ooooh, it’s him’, Mila said pensively. ‘I had already spotted him earlier, but I thought he was a girl, he’s so skinny and cute. Totally your type, though. Watcha think, Otabek ?’

The man wasn’t even listening. He was too busy staring at the younger student. His first thought was that he looked very, very pale. But given the Nikiforov last name, he must be Russian. Maybe he was biased by Mila’s light tan.

‘Please forgive my Yuri’s rudeness’, Nikiforov laughed. ‘He’s into his rebellious teenage phase, but I can swear he’s actually really kind-hearted ! He loves cats and plushies and -’

His sentence was cut straight by an unknown rectangular object being thrown at him, and he dodged it swiftly as it went crashing into the wall just behind him. His frowned.

‘Yuratchka, is that the phone I bought you merely a month ago ?’

‘Of course not, stupid old man. It’s your piglet’s.’

‘Yuratchka, did you just throw my husband’s phone at me ? Nevermind, when did you even take it ?!’

‘Uh, like, two hours ago ? When we left ? And stop reminding everyone you’re married, it’s fucking gross.’

‘You were the one crying at the wedding, though.’

‘You fucking -’

‘Alright, I think it will be enough for today, Mr. Nikiforov, Plisetsky’, Chairman Feltsman yelled.

It took a few seconds for Otabek’s brain to register that Plisetsky was the boy’s last name. He wondered for a few seconds why both brothers didn’t share a name, but decided not to think about it for too long. It was none of his business, after all. As the excitement toned down a bit, Chairman Feltsman asked every homeroom teacher to call their students. Mila and Otabek were together again - it was to be expected - with their friend Jean-Jacques Leroy. The Canadian loudly shouted their names as he went to crush them into a hug. They hadn’t seen him for almost a month, as he had returned home with his girlfriend Isabella to see his younger siblings. Said girlfriend lightly waved at them from the arts students’ ranks, and she tucked a strand of black hair behind her ear before going to see Guang-Hong Ji and Kenjirou Minami.

‘Has any of you seen Leo ?’ JJ asked while looking over the crowd. ‘He did say he’d be late, but I don’t think anyone came into the gym during Feltsman’s speech ?’

‘Maybe he just waited outside, JJ’, Mila answered, shrugging.

Sure enough, Leo de la Iglesia was waiting for them, his back to the gym’s wall. When he spotted them, he took off his earphones, and sneakily joined the ranks trailing behind Plushenko and Nikiforov.

‘Hey guys’, he smiled.

‘You missed quite the commotion’, Otabek told him with a smirk.

‘Yeah, all the girls in the arts section were talking about it. Handsome new kid and cute new teach ?’

‘Half right. Handsome new teach and cute new kid’, Mila chuckled. ‘By the way, the teach is Plushenko’s trainee.’

‘Seriously ? Damn, I hope he’s not as hard on us as Plushenko is...'

‘He looks rather cool’, JJ said. ‘And funny.’

‘Yup, definitely funny.’

As they all sat in Music Room no.01 - more like a music hall, really -, and Plushenko began his traditional start-of-the-year speech that no one ever listened to, Otabek couldn’t help but think about Yuri Plisetsky. He was intriguing him.

September passed by so quickly that it felt as though they had been sitting in that gym merely a week ago. Otabek was now buried underneath his music scores and studies notes, laying on the ground of Music Room no.02. Just as he was slowly drifting into a nap, he heard the door opening, and closing, then followed by the sound of a bag being dumped on the ground. He woke up, startled, thinking it might be a teacher, but it wasn’t. It was a blonde, petite boy, with a camera in his hands. He looked as surprised as Otabek was. The latter was the first to break the silence.

‘What are you doing here ?’ he asked softly.

‘... I have an assignment.’

‘And you wanted to take a picture of this music room ? Music Room no.01 is much prettier.’

‘I wanted to take that one. Also, it’s not merely about taking a picture. Now, if you could get outta here, thanks.’

Well, at least he was polite enough to say ‘thanks’. And he didn’t swear. Which sure was a form of progress, compared to the show he had given them at the Entrance Ceremony.

‘I kind of... Have to study here’, Otabek answered gently.

‘It won’t be long.’

‘Do you really need the room to be empty ?’

‘Do you really need me to kick your face, asshole ?’

So long for progress.

‘You’re not the only one who has to get assignments done.’

‘D’you need to get yours done in like, thirty minutes ?’

‘Twenty, actually.’

‘It can wait then, mine’s in ten.’

‘You just need to take a picture. I need to work on a score.’

‘I need to take a picture and fucking paint on it so now if you could just get the fuck outta that room and lemme -’

‘What is the commotion here ?!’

Mr. Plushenko had found them. Before any of the boys could say anything, he took them each by an ear, and threw them both into the corridor with all their stuff - mostly Otabek’s, but there was Yuri’s bag as well. They exchanged a look.

‘Well, now, I guess we’re both fucked for our assignments’, the blonde muttered.

And then, they burst out laughing, not really knowing why, and they were laughing almost maniacally in the middle of the school, teachers and students alike throwing them weirded out glances as they passed by. When they finally calmed down, they smiled at each other, and Otabek couldn’t help but chuckle. The boy was aggressive, swore like a sailor, but was weirdly endearing.

‘Rooftop ?’ the music student proposed.

‘... What ? You want us to jump from there ?’

‘Of course not. But it’d be better than a busy corridor to walk on my score.’

‘Oh.’

‘And I thought you could come with me.’

‘That’s... Nice. But I’d rather not. Gonna get yelled at by the old hag if I don’t come back to the workshop with something at least somewhat decent.’

‘The old hag...? Are you talking about Mrs. Baranovskaya ?!’

‘Who else ?’

As they talked, they got up, and soon enough they were strolling together through the entire floor, purposefully or not taking the long way to reach each of their respective destinations. They stopped before the Arts Studio no.09, and as soon as Mrs. Baranovskaya saw Yuri through the glass door, she scowled.

‘Well’, the blonde sighed. ‘Imma get roasted. See you.’

‘Will I ?’

The younger boy stopped to look at Otabek. Then, a shy smile took shape on his lips.

‘What’s your name ?’

‘Otabek Altin. Music course, third year.’

‘Yuri Plisetsky. Second year.’

And then, he went into the room.

‘Soooo. Heard you talked with the Plisexy boy.’

‘Plisetsky. And you’re drunk, Mila.’

‘But you did talk to him, you swift playboy…’

‘Who even told you that ?’

‘Well, Isabella, you dummy. Do we know other people from the arts course ?’

‘We do. Guang-Hong and Kenjirou.’

‘Awwww, riiiight. Them.’

‘Mila, Guang-Hong is Leo’s boyfriend, don’t act like you don’t know him.’

Indeed, Guang-Hong was on the dancefloor with Leo, and they were both dancing to I Love Rock’n’Roll before a squealing Kenjirou, who had been rooting for them for years. Besides him, his classmate Isabella was sitting on JJ’s lap, and they were having a drinking contest, judging by the vodka shots lined up before them. Not too far from them, their former classmates Phichit and Seung-Gil were talking with Georgi and his new girlfriend, Judith. Otabek pensively stared at them all.

‘Why didn’t you invite him ?’

Apparently, a drunk Mila was sharper than a sober Mila, because she had just voiced his thoughts. He could still hear his laugh from earlier ringing in his ears. For some reason, he really wished the blonde was there with them, enjoying a crazy night of music and dancing and drinking… Maybe he was too young to drink. How old was he ? What kind of music did he like ? Was dancing something he deemed ‘at least somewhat decent’ for him ?

‘Okay, Otabek, you clearly wanna invite the guy. Gimme his number, I’ll call him for ya.’

‘I… Don’t have his number, Mila. It’s been like, seven hours since we had that talk and it was nothing.’

‘Isabella didn’t say it was, lmao.’

‘Why would you say ‘lmao’ in a verbal conversation, Mila ?’

‘Am drunk, ya said it yourself dummy. Anyway. Isabella said it wasn’t nothing.’

‘Isabella was mistaken.’

‘Well see, the thing is, the boy got owned by Baranovskaya…’

‘And ?’

‘And to punish him she had him pose as their dynamic model for the rest of the day…’

‘Ouch.’

‘Yup. And the boy was soooo flustered he couldn’t stand straight and he kinda collapsed, face red and stuff, and then he got right up and told Baranovskaya he couldn’t do it !’

‘Mila, I don’t think that’s because we exchanged like, two words.’

‘Stop lying dude, the whole goddamn university knows you’ve been laughing your asses off just before Music Room no.02 after Plushenko kicked you outta there. What was he doin’ there anyway ?’

‘He wanted to take a picture for -’

‘Damn, he’s sure going fast, wanting to take a picture of ya nappin’ so early on ! Hey guys, guess what ?!’ she suddenly shouted.

Otabek didn’t even have the time to see his life flash before his eyes. The next second, Mila Babicheva was cheerfully destroying all kinds of dignity he had left and spreading rumors of him dating Yuri Plisetsky. The worst part ? He actually liked the idea.

He took that back. That wasn’t the worst part. The worst part was how, the following day, everyone kept asking him if what Mila and JJ had posted on all of their social media was true. Otabek hated SNS and there was a reason for that. At least, both his classmates had apologized - but he wasn’t the one they should have been apologizing to first and foremost, per se. That’s why he took them both to Arts Studio no.09, despite JJ’s whining about how the small blonde was scarier than Otabek himself. When they got there however, they found Mr. Nikiforov, talking with his brother. More like arguing, given their angry faces and the faint sound of their voices coming from the slightly opened door.

‘I… Think we should go’, JJ whispered as all three of them exchanged curious looks.

‘We should indeed’, Otabek agreed.

But Mila just had to crawl past the door, unnoticed, and crouched down so her ears were near the door. She gestured them to come and eavesdrop with her, but both frowned, and she rolled her eyes before going back to listening. It only took a short while for her eyes to widen, and she let out a faint gasp. JJ and Otabek immediately hid in the corner, and Mila scrambled to her feet. But Mr. Nikiforov and his brother were faster than her.

‘Oh, eavesdropping I see ?’ Nikiforov smiled.

But it wasn’t the heart-shaped smile he had gotten them used to. It was a cold, angry smile that quite literally screamed of disgust.

‘Um, hello, Mr. Niki-’

‘Come in, Mila.’

‘Sir, I -’

‘Don’t say you didn’t mean to while you did. Yuri, I’m not done yet, but I believe we will have to pursue this conversation back home.’

‘Yeah right, a ‘conversation’. People actually listen to each other during a conversation, Viktor.’

‘Yuri.’

Blue eyes met green ones, and the blonde lowered his head like a child being scolded. The older man went into the studio with Mila who, as soon as he had closed the door, started apologizing profusely. Yuri simply walked to the corner past JJ and Otabek, but stopped in the middle of the corridor.

‘Next time you wanna spy on us, send someone more discreet, Altin.’

Otabek’s brain hadn’t even registered the boy’s words that he had disappeared to another floor. JJ and him exchanged a confused look, and they didn’t talk at all while waiting for Mila. Silences usually weren’t too disturbing to them; but this time, there was a feeling of uneasiness crawling under Otabek’s skin. What was that boy thinking…? Suddenly, Mila burst out of the studio, looking furious.

‘Where did he go’, she shouted. ‘Where did that goddamn kid go ?!’

‘Mila’, Nikiforov quietly said as he followed her down the hall. ‘Remember. I don’t want anyone else to know about that. It is his own choice.’

‘He’s crazy.’

‘I think he might be as well, but he won’t listen, no matter what you tell him. Now, I thank you for your concern, but I’d like you to forget everything about these conversations.’

‘I can’t.’

‘Let me correct myself. You have to forget everything about these conversations.’

‘But -’

‘And if everyone else knows about this, I will know this is your doing. So I ask you, Mila, to spare the both - no, the three of us any trouble and stay out of this.’

‘... Alright.’

‘Good. I’ll see you later in class, then.’

The silver-haired man then went in the opposite direction. He seemingly hadn’t noticed JJ and Otabek. The former tilted his head at Mila, who only shook her head.

‘You heard him. I’m not telling the both of you. Sorry.’

‘Don’t worry about it’, they both said.

The rest of the day went almost too normally. Mr. Nikiforov was back to his cheery and joyous self. He had brought a record of his own favorite song, named In Regards to Love.

‘So, Mr. Plushenko told me you had studied the art of arranging a same piece in different ways, right ? Today, I want us to dive deeper into that subject. I will now make you listen to two arrangements of this song. The first one is named Agape. I would like you to guess what the song is about, without translating the lyrics of course.’

The high-pitched, soft and pure voice of a child then echoed in the classroom, and Otabek felt like the notes were taking him elsewhere. A place no one could have ever even thought of reaching. He had no words to describe his awe as he stared at the white wall just in front of him, listening, his fingers slightly waving with the melody as he always did when he was listening to music. He could picture a figure, graciously dancing through the notes. And then, just like that, the song was finished. It was like he had brutally crashed onto the ground after taking flight.

‘This second arrangement’s name is Eros.’

Guitar and castanets, and a fiery rhythm that seeked to take the audience away with its thirst for adventure. The final destination wasn’t clear, but it didn’t matter. What was important was the journey the music was taking them on. He unconsciously started tapping on his desk, and the beat suddenly went faster and faster, and then it calmed down before going to yet another peak. The figure that had been weaving through the score was now jumping from a line to another, and when the last note rang in his ears, he could see the small silhouette falling onto its knees, having finally reached its goal. Not a single student could say a single word about it. They were awestruck. Granted, they had listened their fair share of good music, but this was… Different. And they could all feel it. The bell rang, and Mr. Nikiforov asked them to write an analysis of those two arrangements for the following week. The students were too impressed to complain.

The next time he met Yuri was in a restaurant. He wasn’t expecting the blonde to work as a waiter during weekends. It just seemed off to him, for some reason.

‘Altin’, he greeted him.

He apparently hadn’t forgiven Mila’s eavesdropping yet, and it sounded like he still believed Otabek had sent her. This was his chance to make things right between them.

‘Hey, Plisetsky.’

‘Whattaya want ?’

‘I wanted to apologize, actua -’

‘I wasn’t talking about that. I was asking you what you want to drink.’

‘Oh.’

‘My service’s over in half an hour.’

‘Right. Um… Just a bottle of AriZona. Green tea and honey.’

‘Coming.’

The music student did get his bottle, along with a suspicious look on the blonde’s part. Half an hour later, he was sitting on a bench in a nearby park, legs crossed. He hadn’t opened his bottle at all.

‘So’, Yuri started. ‘You said you wanted to apologize.’

‘Uh… Yeah. For those posts and Mia.’

‘Posts ? Oh, you mean, SNS stuff ? I read it, yeah. Didn’t know I was dating you.’

‘I didn’t know that either.’

They both chuckled, and Otabek felt a little better. He was afraid those dumb posts would ruin the beginning of friendship he had created with the blonde.

‘As for your real girlfrien -’

‘She’s not.’

‘She’s not ?’

‘Nope. She has a girlfriend herself, see.’

‘Oh.’

‘And, what about her ?’

‘Yeah well, Viktor told me he was a bit… Harsh on her. He was still angry after our talk and took it all out on her so… I’m the one who should be apologizing about it. Though I still think Viktor was wrong.’

‘What were you two arguing about ?’ Otabek couldn’t help but ask.

A pair of pale green eyes stared at him, and he felt his heart beating faster. He had beautiful eyes. Eyes he would never forget for sure.

‘She didn’t tell you…?’

‘After Mr. Nikiforov scolded her, she didn’t want to. Said it was your own problem.’

‘... That’s pretty cool of her. For an eavesdropper, I mean.’

The younger boy laid back a second, looking at the sky. He then got up, took Otabek’s bottle from his hands, and drank half of it in one go. And all the other man could do was stare.

‘She’s right. It’s my own problem, and that’s why Viktor shouldn’t be meddling with it either.’

‘Is it… Serious ?’

The blonde merely smirked.

‘Yeah, you could say that, I guess.’

He smiled, and all of a sudden, the notes of Welcome to the Madness - a song Otabek himself really liked - started playing. Yuri took his phone out of his pocket.

‘Hey, Katsudon. … Yeah, I know, coming home right away if the other old man isn’t there. … Whattaya mean he - oh fuck I told him not to… Ugh. Yeah I know you must have. Okay. I’ll see you there, then.’

He hung up, and turned to Otabek.

‘Gotta go. I’ll see you tomorrow at school. If... That’s okay with you, I mean.’

‘Why wouldn’t it ?’

He stretched his hand at the arts student.

‘Are you going to become my friend or not ?’

The blonde chuckled, and shook it.

‘Yeah, I think I am. Oh, by the way, give me your number. It’ll be easier than strolling around the whole goddamn campus to find you.’

‘I’m usually napping in Music Room no.02.’

‘Well yeah, except I have classes at noon.’

‘I’m not only napping at noon.’

They laughed, and then Yuri ran to catch his bus. Otabek wondered for a second where he was going. Line 42 had only four stops left before terminus. The hospital ?

The following months felt a bit like a dream. It had become a habit for them to meet on the rooftop at noon. Yuri was always the first one up there; Otabek didn’t understand how he could do that, though. His timetable was much crueler than his, and yet the blonde still had time to run off to buy some food for the both of them - Otabek was a bit low on his allowance and had no part-time job to make up for it - and climb all the way up to the roof. There, they usually sat and looked at all the other students in the courtyard, or the teachers running one after another to exchange info and such. They would create stories for each person of the school, from the cleaning lady to Chairman Feltsman. Otabek would put on some music - it turned out they had quite similar tastes, so the older man was extremely proud to introduce his friend to new bands - and Yuri would show him all the pretty pictures he had taken with his phone. Most of them were of his cat Potya, whom he loved more than his brother it seemed; others were of his own paintings and drawings.

‘Why are you laughing, Beka ?’ Yuri scolded when he showed him his most recent drawing.

‘I love looking at your art.’

‘Don’t laugh at me, street boy.’

‘I’m not mocking you, I’m serious. Who would expect the ever-so-aggressive Yuri Plisetsky to paint over three hundred pictures of his cat ?’

‘Potya is a great model, I’ll have you know.’

‘Yura, you live with one of the most handsome men the world has known.’

‘Says who ? A blind old hag ?’

‘Did you just call Mila a blind old hag ?’

‘Yeah, well she is old and she’s a hag so I guess I almost got it right.’

‘Does that mean I’m old ?’

‘Kinda, but at least you’re not a hag.’

‘You do know we’re only two years older, right ? Don’t get all cocky because you skipped a grade, Mr. Teen Genius Plisetsky.’

The blonde rolled his eyes, and then proceeded to lay his head onto Otabek’s lap, who immediately felt his cheeks burn.

‘What do you think you’re doing’, he muttered.

‘Why, getting cocky, of course. Since I’m Mr. Teen Genius Plisetsky. Also, I needed a pillow.’

‘You could have used your bag.’

‘I wanted to use you. Clear enough ?’

‘... Yeah.’

As Yuri was scrolling through his Instagram, Otabek absent-mindedly started playing with his soft hair. He was half expecting Yuri to snap at him, or to purr, but his friend did neither and instead sighed and shrugged.

‘Beka.’

‘What is it ?’

‘I… There are some things about me you don’t know.’

This surprised him. He wasn’t used to Yuri being so serious in their time together. Like all friends do, he would sometimes write huge texts about his feelings, but he would never explain where those emotions were coming from. All Otabek knew was that Yuri and Viktor kept arguing over an issue that concerned Yuri alone; and there also was something about a promise Viktor had made and never kept.

‘There are indeed, Yura.’

‘And you’re okay with that ?’

The dark-haired man had to think about it for a moment.

‘To be completely honest, no. I want to know what’s making you feel so angry towards everything. And why you’re always arguing with your brother. I… I want to know what’s hurting you so much, Yura.’

The blonde didn’t say a word. He had his back turned to Otabek, which made it impossible for him to guess how the younger boy was feeling.

‘... I can’t tell you about the arguments with Viktor. I can tell you about a few other things, though.’

‘Go ahead.’

‘I wasn’t really adopted by the Nikiforovs.’

‘You weren’t ?’

‘My guardian technically still is my Grandpa. But he’s getting old, and my parents don’t really have time to take care of me. So Viktor, who’s… My childhood friend, offered him to take me in. Grandpa didn’t want to, you see. He was worried. But I was, too. About him.’

‘Is that why you’re working part-time ?’

‘I’m paying his medicine, yeah. Can’t do much else. Also, his health isn’t that bad, he’s just a bit… Fragile, because of age. That’s all.’

‘Then, the money you use to pay me my meals…’

‘It’s okay. That’s just some bonus. Grandpa gets his share every month, don’t worry.’

‘I see. Please, go on if there are other things you’d like to tell me.’

For a few minutes, there was only silence. Otabek felt like Yuri was weighing his words, and he wondered what was making him so anxious. If only he knew… Then maybe, just maybe, he could do something about it. He would do anything to make this beautiful soldier feel better.

‘I…’

And then, Otabek felt them. Yuri’s tears, on his jeans. He was completely caught off-guard and stopped stroking his hair. He gently nudged him.

‘Yura. Turn your face to me.’

‘No.’

‘You’re crying.’

‘Wrong.’

‘Yura. Tell me. It’s okay. I’ll still love you no matter what.’

‘You won’t. Only three people ever did.’

‘Let me be the fourth.’

‘You’re gonna say I’m a freak and a liar.’

‘I’m gonna say I love that freak and that liar.’

‘You were supposed to say ‘I’m not gonna say you’re a freak and a liar’.’

‘But I didn’t, because I always surprise you and never say what you think I am going to say. Don’t you think I can do that again ?’

Silence, again. Yuri sat right up again with difficulty, and turned his tears stained face to Otabek. The dark-haired man simply used his own jacket’s sleeve to shed away the other boy’s tears, and gave him a smile, followed by a tight hug. His thumbs traced circles on the blonde’s back, who slowly started relaxing into his arms.

‘I’m trans’, Yuri ended up saying, his nose buried in his friend’s jacket.

Otabek simply hugged him tighter. They stayed like that for a few minutes, the music student still gently tracing circles onto Yuri’s back, and the blonde embracing him like his life depended on it.

‘You don’t think it’s weird ?’ Yuri finally sobbed.

‘I already had doubts, to be honest. You never agreed to go to the gym with JJ and me. At first, I thought it might just be because you didn’t like sports, but then you said you’d been ice-skating and doing ballet as a kid, so… I thought it ought to be something else.’

‘You could have just asked me. Would have made things easier.’

‘I didn’t want you to feel cornered if it turned out to be true.’

‘... What did I even do to deserve you, Otabek Altin.’

‘You were yourself.’

‘I don’t feel like it’s enough.’

‘I do.’

They still didn’t move. Even though their legs were starting to feel numb, even though the cold January winds were blowing right into their faces, even though the bell was ringing. They didn’t care. They only needed each other.

‘It’s not fair, though.’

‘What is ?’

‘That whole… Truth thing. There are things that I don’t know about you.’

‘What do you want to know ?’

‘Anything. As long as it’s personal.’

Maybe it was his chance to tell him. What if he didn’t feel the same ? He knew there was a possibility Yuri’s feelings were nothing like his. Maybe he was considering him his brother and friend. Otabek would respect that. He would accept it eventually. But what is he did reciprocate ? Then, what was to happen next…?

‘I’m in love with my best friend’, he simply said.

‘... Mila ? Or JJ ?’

‘Neither. Male best friend.’

‘Right. Neither of them then.’

‘He is way more beautiful than the both of them together.’

‘It’s not that complicated.’

‘He’s small. Always angry. But surprisingly soft.’

With each of his words, he could feel Yuri’s body getting more and more tense into his arms, as though he was already guessing his next words. Well, he may have had already. He was a clever young man, after all.

‘I’m sure you two would make a great couple’, he whispered.

His heart stopped. Would.

‘You would if… If he was someone who could make you happy. And I know for a fact he’s not.’

‘What do you mean… Yura ?’

But Yuri had gotten up. He smiled at him, and Otabek had to close his eyes. It wasn’t his pure, innocent smile he loved. It was a sad smile that screamed of melancholy.

‘You know… I don’t have much time before my body… changes.’

‘... Are you talking about -’

‘If only… If only time would wait for us. Then… Then I’d date you, Beka. I would give you all the happiness I would find in the world. Put it into a bottle of painted glass, and let you open it and drink a single drop from it every time you feel down. I would do that, Beka. I would listen to you composing and playing and singing, and you would look at my drawings and paintings. I would love you. I think I already do. But time never waits. Time forgets. So, I want you to forget, too.’

And just like that, he was gone.

It had been two weeks since Yuri had stopped coming to school. Otabek had been texting him relentlessly. He had replied, once. ‘Sorry.’, he had said. No one except him seemed fazed by the blonde’s sudden disappearance. Even the teachers sounded like everything was normal. He knew it wasn’t. Something was painfully wrong with that. That was the reason why he was standing in front of the faculty office door. Hesitating. He hadn’t talked to Mr. Nikiforov at all for the last three weeks. They both had been skipping class.

‘Altin ?’

Otabek turned around to face Mrs. Baranovskaya, accompanied by none other than Chairman Feltsman. He respectfully greeted the both of them.

‘Are you looking for someone, perhaps ?’

‘Mr. Nikiforov, actually.’

‘I believe he is not here today. I haven’t seen him for quite a while.’

‘He’s ill’, Chairman Feltsman calmly said.

Too calmly. When Otabek got back to his room, there was one thing he knew. It was that Viktor Nikiforov wasn’t ill, and that his absence and Yuri’s disappearance were linked.

Maybe he had drawn his conclusion too soon. Mr. Nikiforov came back the following day, as cheery and funny as always. He was even a little more extra than usual, as if something really good had happened to him. He didn’t seem disturbed at all by the fact that his brother was missing. At the end of the class, Otabek ran up straight to him.

‘Mr. Nikiforov.’

‘Oh, Otabek ! Can I help you with something ?’

‘Is Yuri okay ?’

‘Yuuri ? Yes, he is, but when have I ever told you about him ?’

‘... Huh ?’

‘I mean, I know I have been up in the clouds ever since our wedding, but -’

‘I wasn’t talking about your husband Yuuri, sir’, Otabek muttered. ‘I was talking about your younger brother. Yuri Plisetsky.’

Mr. Nikiforov’s expression didn’t change at all.

‘Who are you talking about ?’

It felt like he was falling into an abyss that had suddenly opened underneath his feet. He was being swallowed by doubt, fear, hatred. Who was he talking about…? Who else would he be talking about ?

‘I know I’m Russian, and that Plisetsky name sounds Russian as well, but not all Russians know each other you know ! Oh, sorry Otabek, I’m going to be late for my next class - Mr. Plushenko will kill me if I am, and I’d rather avoid that, you know. Well, see you tomorrow !’

He then ran off through the corridor, leaving a paralyzed Otabek on the spot. He didn’t know. He didn’t know who Yuri Plisetsky was. Had Otabek dreamed him up…? No. A single glance at his phone’s lockscreen - a picture of a blonde, smiling boy with a fluffy siberian cat in his arms - indicated him he hadn’t been dreaming. Then why was everyone acting like he never existed ? He had to know. He had to know why. Why was Viktor Nikiforov, of all people, pretending he had never existed ? And, just like that, he started conceiving a plan.

Otabek had to check for the fifth time if he hadn’t mistyped the address on his phone. But he apparently hadn’t. Earlier that week - it had now been twenty-two days since Yuri had disappeared - he had asked Mr. Nikiforov to tutor him during weekends. They were supposed to start today; but the address he gave him was… A flower shop. Yuutopia Flowers, more specifically. He nevertheless entered the store. Maybe he should buy a bouquet for the Nikiforovs ?

‘Hello’, a young, bespectacled man said as he entered. ‘Are you looking for a composition in particular ?’

‘Huh ? Oh, uh… Hello. Not… Not really, I’m not very good at flower language. But, um… It’s for a newlywed couple. Well, no, they’ve been married for almost half a year now.’

‘... Are you perhaps looking for Viktor Katsuki-Nikiforov ?’

‘How do you -’

‘I’m Yuuri Katsuki-Nikiforov’, he chuckled as he stretched out his hand to shake his. ‘Nice to meet you… Otabek, was it ? Vitya told me you would come by. He’s tutoring you, right ?’

‘Oh, I’m… I’m sorry. Yeah, that’s right.’

‘What are you apologizing for ? Anyway… Vitya is out with our dog, he should be here in just a few minutes. Come on, I’ll show you to our apartment… Nishigori, Yuuko, I’m leaving the shop to you two !’

‘You got it, buddy !’ a smiling woman answered from the counter.

Yuuri took Otabek past a door that no one would ever notice if they didn’t know it was there. They climbed the tiny, narrow stairs, only to end up in a gigantic living room. It was extremely modern, styled with black, white and blue, and Otabek immediately recognized the place. Most of Yuri’s photos of Potya had been taken there.

‘You can sit here’, Yuuri smiled as he gestured to a table. ‘Do you need anything ?’

‘I… No, thank you.’

‘Alright. I’ll be in the shop if you need anything; don’t hesitate and ask, okay ?’

‘That’s very kind of you, thank you very much.’

As Yuuri was making his way downstairs, Otabek couldn’t help himself but call him back.

‘Mr. Katsuki-Nikiforov ?’

The bespectacled man’s face instantly popped back from the staircase.

‘Yes ?’

‘Do… Do you know… What happened to Yuri Plisetsky ?’

Yuuri’s expression darkened. He knew something. Maybe he wasn’t going to hide it like his husband did.

‘I… I am in no place to tell you about it. It is… It only concerns Yurio, and Vitya.’

‘... According to Yura himself, Mr. Nikiforov has nothing to do with it.’

‘He… Doesn’t, it’s true. But… I cannot be the one to talk to you about it. I think… I can convince Vitya to tell you, alright ? You both need to. I can’t stand seeing him suffer like that because of the unnecessary weight of secrets he’s put on his shoulders.’

‘I understand. Thank you very much, sir.’

‘Please call me Yuuri. You are Yurio’s friend, aren’t you ? Since you called him Yura. He doesn’t allow a lot of people to call him that, you know. You must be special to him… If you are to this boy, then you are to me as well.’

‘That’s… Thank you, Yuuri.’

‘No problem, Otabek.’

He went downstairs.

‘So, for our next project, I’d like you all to work with Mr. Giacometti’s arts class !’ Mr. Nikiforov said with his usual heart-shaped smile. ‘My husband Yuuri came up with that idea, and I think it’s absolutely brilliant ! We will be trying to understand each other’s definition of art - visual arts, and musical arts ! It’s very simple, actually. People of the music course will have to draw, or paint if you can, the music you like the most. People of the arts course on the other hand, will have to sing something they deem fitting to their favorite painting !’

‘Sir, I can’t even draw a potato without having it look like a spaceship’, Mila said.

‘Art isn’t always about similarity and beauty ! It is about passing through a strong, a poetic message ! Just like music does, for that matter. That’s why, I want you to understand that not only is music able to create new colors, but painting itself is able to create music !’

‘Sir’, Otabek finally asked. ‘Will you be participating as well ? Because I have a challenge for you.’

And a good one, at that. He and Yuuri had been working on this little project of theirs for the past week - Yuri had disappeared for a month now.

‘You do, uh ? Then I��ll take you on any time ! What is your little challenge ?’

‘I want you to paint In Regards to Love: Agape.’

‘You… What ? Now, that’s a peculiar request…’

‘When you first made us listen to this song in class, it felt… It was incredibly powerful. And I was wondering if you could change such musical power into a painting.’

‘Gods, you have exactly gotten the hang of the subject, Otabek ! Alright then, I’ll be painting Agape ! You have two weeks to prepare, so do it well ! I also want you to write a paper about your work. No cheating, if I hear any of you has been using one of the art students’ help, you’re disqualified ! By the way, the winner gets free tickets to Disneyland.’

The room collectively shouted ‘WHAT’, before students started gathering into smaller groups to discuss their projects. Naturally, Mr. Nikiforov approached Otabek, Mila and JJ’s group.

‘So, what song have you decided to paint ?’

‘Agape’, Otabek smirked. ‘I really like that song, and it would only be fair for me to use the same subject as yours for our little… challenge.’

He was provocating him. He had seen and heard Yuri do it so many times; and he now knew why Yuri always felt so satisfied whenever he made anyone angry. It just felt good to think he had power over someone. And that he’d soon squeeze the truth out of him. He was going to find Yuri, and no one would stop him. Not even time.

‘Indeed, Otabek. I can’t wait until we compare our productions ! What about you two, Mila, Jean-Jacques ?’

‘I think I’ll be painting one of my own compositions’, Mila said pensively. ‘What do you think, sir ? Is it powerful enough ?’

‘Anything is if you see it for what it is’, Mr. Nikiforov smiled. ‘Jean-Jacques ?’

‘I’m not quite sure… Still wondering if I should choose Partizan Hope or Sleeping at Last’s Saturn.’

‘Saturn, uh… You would have to paint time, and love. This song is really powerful and difficult, but… On the other hand, it could make for a great painting.’

‘I couldn’t help but ask, you to say it all again; I tried to write it down, but I could never find a pen…’, Otabek hummed. He had made Yuri listen to it, and he absolutely adored it.

‘I’d give anything to hear, you say it one more time; that the universe was made, just to be seen by my eyes....’, Mr. Nikiforov sang. ‘There is someone I once knew who really loved this song.’

He left their table, and Otabek’s confused gaze followed him. Someone he once knew ? Who loved ? Past tense. Could he be talking about Yuri ? Had something happened to him ? No, Yuuri would have told him if he was dead… He would, right ? Obviously he would. There was no point in freaking out. But he couldn’t help it. Yuri wasn’t dead. Then why past tense ? Something happened. He knew that much. He knew nothing else and it was slowly killing him. He didn’t even see JJ and Mila’s worried looks until the redhead slapped him.

‘Awake, now ?’ she growled.

‘... Mila. Why did you -’

‘To wake you up. And tell us just what the fuck is happening to you.’

‘You know perfectly well what’s happening. And none of you has even tried finding out the truth. You just kept it with the teachers’ little act.’

And then, realization hit him. That Mila knew why Viktor and Yuri had been arguing. She knew why Yuri had disappeared. He took her by an arm, and almost had to drag her to the corridor to talk.

‘Why were they arguing, that day ?’

‘Otabek, I promised I -’

‘Yuri’s disappeared. Mila, the boy I love has disappeared and you know why he did.’

‘I don’t -’

‘You do, you were ready to beat him up to get him to apologize to Viktor.’

‘Don’t be ridiculous, Otabek, I would never have beaten him up…’

‘Don’t change the topic.’

‘... I can’t, Otabek. This isn’t something I can tell you. I don’t have the right to.’

‘Because Mr. Nikiforov forbid you to do it ?’

‘Because it wouldn’t be right for me to.’

‘Mila, I swear that if you don’t tell me I will -’

‘Will what ? Go ahead, say it, you will what ?!’

He didn’t answer. She stormed back into the classroom. Otabek went the opposite way to get some water onto his face. What was he doing ? He had threatened his best friend. Her, of all people, who he’d been counting on for two years now. He had threatened her, and he suddenly realized he wasn’t controlling anything anymore. He was nothing but a mess of contradictory feelings.

Finally. The day of the exhibition.

Yuri had gone missing for a month and two weeks now. And today was the day Otabek would get his answers. He knew he would. Viktor would never be able to keep his mouth shut after seeing his painting. He had worked so hard on it; Yuuri even helped him - and Isabella too, although no one should know about that, otherwise, he would be disqualified. Winning these tickets didn’t sound bad at all. Once he’d have found Yuri, they’d go together. Maybe he’d finally tell him about that ‘time’ thing he had mentioned.

‘Welcome, everyone, to our very first Music and Art joint project ! I do hope you will enjoy it, because we sure did while singing those !’ Mr. Giacometti said in the microphone.

‘Well, everyone did their best, there is no reason for us not to enjoy all these beautiful productions !’ Mr. Nikiforov answered. ‘Now, shall we start with the music, or the art students ?’

‘The floor is yours, dear.’

‘My, how gentlemanly ! So, let’s see… First in alphabetical order would be… Altin, Otabek ! So, what song did you choose, why, and what have you painted ?’

The silver-haired man gave him the mic as Otabek climbed onto the stage. Behind him, JJ and Isabella were putting his painting on its easel.

‘The song I have chosen is… In Regards to Love: Agape. I… From the very moment I heard it, it felt special. Gracious and yet, powerful. Beautiful and enthralling, but nothing superficial. It goes far, far beyond that. And that’s why all I could imagine as I was listening was…’

He turned around, and walked to the easel before pulling on the white sheet covering the painting. Golden hair. Feathery white wings. Pale green eyes. It wasn’t perfect. It had many, many flaws. The colors were a bit dull on some crucial points and the lighting wasn’t exactly on point. But it was beautiful nevertheless. It took the whole audience’s breath away.

‘Yuri’, Mr. Nikiforov muttered.

He, for one, was mesmerized by the painting. He slowly walked to it. His fingers graced it surface, tracing the lines of a face he hadn’t seen in more than a month. A face he would most likely never see again. A tear rolled down his cheek. Another. The next thing Otabek Altin knew, was that Viktor Katsuki-Nikiforov was crying his heart out before his painting.

‘I can’t’, he sobbed as Mr. Giacometti was trying to comfort him. ‘I can’t. He can’t, Otabek. He can’t go like that.’

‘Go ? Where to ?’

‘Far. Very far away. A land we will all reach eventually. But it’s too soon, Otabek ! It’s too soon for him to go there ! He can’t, and I can’t, and I could do nothing. I could do nothing to even slow him down, he insisted to come everyday, to work everyday like a normal boy would, to have friends and fall in love… Because he did, you know. He did fall in love. He fell in love with life. And then with you. And all of a sudden he…’

‘Where is he, Mr. Nikiforov ? Where is he ?!’

‘The hospital. Room 112. Don’t go. It will only hurt you more.’

Otabek didn’t even hear him. The next minute, he was onto his motorcycle, driving under a blinding winter sun, as if the star was mocking him.

He was there. But not really there. Laying in a bed with white covers. His head tilted to the side. Completely unable to move. Only his green eyes were as bright as they used to be. Everything else was unrecognizable. His soft, golden hair now looked so thin and dull. His fair, smooth skin had gotten even paler - if it was possible. His already skinny limbs looked like the mere blowing of the wind could break him in half. Amyotrophic lateral sclerosis. How could he not have realized that earlier ?! His pale skin, far too pale to be natural. The way he refused to come to the gym, because his muscles wouldn’t have been able to take it. His appointments at the hospital. His part time job, merely four stops away from said hospital. Him not being able to pose as a dynamic model, on the very day he had met and talked to him for the first time. Everything made sense now and he had been blind, blind, blind all the time.

‘Yura.’

He couldn’t answer, of course. He was being kept alive by mere machines. He couldn’t talk. He had thoughts. Most certainly beautiful ones, like everything he ever was to him. But no one would ever be able to hear them. He wished he could. They both wished they could.

‘I’m here, Yura. I... I’m so sorry, Yura. I’m so sorry I’ve been selfish. I didn’t even... I would have fought with you, you know. We would have gone through that together.’

We did. We did. I was your soldier. I’ve simply fallen on the battlefield. You already did a lot.

‘I did nothing’, Otabek sobbed.

You did so much.

‘I did nothing. I didn’t even know.’

You were my friend. The fourth person to accept me for who I am. But the first I’ve ever fallen in love with.

‘I claimed I love you, and I still could do nothing.’

There was nothing to be done. I was destined to be shattered into pieces anyway.

‘I’m so sorry. I wasn’t there for these six weeks. Six weeks, damnit, six weeks, it feels so short when you say it that way but now I realize how much... How much time has taken from us... This is what you meant when you said your body would change. And I was blinded... By my own sadness but who am I to even pretend to be hurt ?’

Stop apologizing. I love you. Beka. Can you please make my dream come true ?

Otabek sat on the hospital room’s chair, his fingers lightly brushing Yuri’s. He wondered if he could do anything for that boy. Five months. He had been in love with him for five months. He still was. Those five little months meant the world to him. They meant life to Yuri. And then, he followed the blonde’s pale green gaze, that fell upon a sketchbook. He stood up, opened it. Portraits. The first few were Viktor and Yuuri. One of them most likely drawn at their wedding. Then, there were some sketches of Potya’s fluffy face. Next up, some studies of Yuri’s own face. And then, him. Otabek. He was everywhere. On every page. Realistic style, anime style, cartoon style. Charcoal, watercolor, felt-tip. He turned to Yuri. There was a pencil on the nightstand. He gently took the pen, and put it in Yuri’s hand. His own closed around the blonde’s, and they started drawing. A bottle, labeled, happiness.

#yoi #yuri on ice #otayuri #otabek altin #yuri plisetsky #otabek's pov #mila babicheva #jean-jacques leroy #milasara #jjbella #isabella yang #viktuuri #viktor nikiforov #yuuri katsuki #angst

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miraculoustrashblogger · 7 years

Text

Season of Miracles Chapter 11

What’s this? I posted two chapters in two days? It truly must be a season (cough weekend cough) of Miracles! Wow!

Chapter 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 X 12 13

AO3

Christmas Day, 11pm.

Adrien finally retired to his bedroom for the night. As soon as his door swung shut behind him, Plagg flew to his favourite spot-- his garbage bin under the desk. Adrien opened his minifridge and grabbed some cheese for his companion, leaving him to his snack. The boy himself flopped down on his bed, staring at the ceiling. He smiled.

Today had probably been the best day of his life. He had spent all day with his father in a way he hadn't in years. He spent time with his friend and her family, and just thinking about it all made him feel the need to hug something. So he rolled over and grabbed a pillow and hugged it to his chest, beaming with happiness.

There was a knock at his door.

He sat up, dropping the pillow. Checking that Plagg was still in his hiding spot, he called out. “Come in!”

The door opened, and his father walked in.

“I realize we should both be heading to bed, but I almost forgot something.” Gabriel said.

“Oh? What did you forget?”

“Your gift, of course.”

“O-oh!” He said, surprised. Gabriel pulled a package out from behind his back and handed it to his son. Adrien carefully peeled back the paper to reveal a very thick, heavy picture frame, despite it being only five or six inches wide. There was a button at the bottom. Adrien pressed it. The screen lit up, with a video.

The video showed a snowball fight between his parents and Adrien when he was a child. His mom throwing snowballs at him and his father, his father dumping a handful of snow down the back of his moms coat. Adrien himself even nailed his father in the face with a snowball. How did he not remember doing that? He watched it play through, ending in him being scooped up into a hug, all three covered in snow, and them turning to Nathalie, holding the camera, all smiles and happiness.

“There's sound, too.” Gabriel said. He gently took the frame and turned it over, revealing the advanced controls and the memory chip slot. He turned the volume up, and Adrien watched the short video play through again, this time including the laughter, squeals, and faint poofs of the snow hitting its mark. Nathalie's voice spoke quietly over the sounds. “Never doubt that you are loved. So much.”

Adrien stared in awe, speechless. He didn't move for a few moments. A tear rolled down his cheek.

“I-I thought she just took pictures that day?” Adrien asked, not looking up.

“She did pull some stills, but it always was a video that she took.” Gabriel replied. “I noticed you had put that photo out, downstairs. I decided you needed to have a copy of the whole thing.”

Adrien looked back at the frame, and started crying uncontrollably. He set the frame down and jumped up to hug his father. “I miss her Papa. Every day.”

After a moment, his father hugged him back. Gabriel wouldn't admit it, but he shed a few tears himself with his son that night, over the memory, over the loss of his wife, over the sorrow of his son, over his own shame of letting a distance grow between the two of them.

“I miss her too, Adrien.”

The two held each other, finally allowing themselves to share that pain, and maybe, just maybe... beginning to heal.

After a few minutes, Gabriel gently pulled away.

“I should let you get some sleep. You still have a photo shoot tomorrow. Since my schedule is clear, I think I will join you there. Perhaps afterwards we can find something to do together.”

Adrien wiped his tears away and nodded. “I... I think that sounds good. I'd like that. A lot.”

Gabriel turned to leave, but was stopped by a hand on his arm.

“Wait, I forgot something too!” Adrien said.

He ran to his closet and dug around, pulling out a bag.

“It's uh... not wrapped.” He admitted. “I was going to, but I thought I had a few more days before I saw you next. So... here.” He handed his father the bag.

Gabriel reached in, and pulled out a CD case. There was a hand drawn cover, and the back had a matching image, and the list of songs on the back. It didn't list a band name, or an album title. The songs were by a mix of artists.

“I was really stumped on what to get you.” Adrien admitted. “I asked my friends for ideas, and it was Nino's suggestion of a mixed CD. He showed me how to do it, and even taught me how to remix a few of them. Marinette helped me with the design on the cover. She's done it before, for Jagged Stone himself, so I knew I could count on her to help me out. Alya gave me ideas of what kinds of songs to use. She's really smart, and was able to help me find the ones I was thinking of when I couldn't remember what they were called.”

Gabriel looked at the song list again. The first song was the song his wife and he had danced to at their wedding. Another was her favourite piano piece. Her favourite song to sing around the house. The song a famous musician had dedicated to her during her modeling days. Their favourite song from the first concert they attended together. Each one meant something to them.

“A few of them are mash-ups, like, you know, two songs blended together? Nino does that all the time, and he really knows his music theory. A few of them are piano only, and he helped me record them.”

“You put some of your own playing on here?” Gabriel asked.

“Y-Yeah. I just didn't like some of the versions I found, the quality was bad. So I made my own versions of them.”

Gabriel hugged his son again. He didn't have words to describe how much he loved it, and besides that, he was very out of practice expressing himself.

“Thank you Adrien. It's perfect.”

Adrien and his father smiled at each other, finally on the same page after years of being out of sync.

Gabriel said goodnight, and went to his own bedroom, putting the CD on while he prepared for bed. Adrien changed into pyjamas, and turned off the light, climbing into his bed. Plagg came out of hiding, landing on the pillow next to his chosen.

“Wow. I didn't think he was capable of any of that stuff. He always seemed so cold.” Plagg said.

“He comes off that way, but he's just introverted. He does have a heart under it all.” Adrien replied. “He just hasn't shown it in years. Mom always pulled out the best in him. When she left, he kind of shut down, and shut me out. I'm glad he's figuring out how to let me back in now, though. It's been the best day I've ever had. I'm sorry you had to spend all of it stuck away in my bag.”

Plagg reached over and placed his forehead against Adrien's.

“Eh. I've had worse days. I'm glad you're happy.”

“Thanks Plagg. I wonder if Marinette has had a chance to look at my present to her yet.” He yawned. “I guess I'll find out soon enough. I wonder if she'll call me, or wait until patrol...” He mumbled, dozing off. “Of course, she may not be Ladybug at all, in which case I'm going to get in a lot of trouble...”

As Adrien fell asleep, Plagg recalled his day. Despite Adrien thinking he spent the day in the bag, he had actually snuck out and hung out with Tikki. They had had a nice, peaceful day together, the first one in a long time. He hoped she was faring well now...

“Goodnight Mama, goodnight Papa!” Marinette called as she went upstairs.

Tikki flew out of her hiding spot, her little nook by the window. Blocked from view by some fake potted plants, the pots actually had holes cut in them, filled with little pillows and a stash of cookies. One of Marinette's more ingenious creations. Sunlight, hidey-holes, snacks, and in the winter, a space heater only a few feet away. She and Plagg had spent the better part of the day there, napping.

“Hi Tikki.” Marinette smiled. “I hope you weren't too bored hiding up here alone all day.”

“I wasn't!” She chirped. “I napped for a bit, and watched videos on your computer. I hope that's okay.”

Marinette chuckled. “More gardening videos? Alya is always teasing me about my youtube history, why it keeps recommending plant-themed stuff.”

“Sorry, they're just so fascinating!”

“It's okay. I don't mind.” She kissed Tikki on the forehead.

She woke her computer up, and upon seeing the image of her and her friends that she had switched the background to, she was reminded of her gifts.

She walked over to where she had stashed them, and started putting them away. She tucked the embroidery threads from Alya with her sewing supplies, and she tucked the art supplies from Nino in a nearby drawer. She had the sketchbook from Adrien in hand, when she remembered she was interrupted while trying to read it.

She moved over to her chaise, and sat down, opening up the sketchbook on her lap to the first page. She began reading, her eyes growing wider with each line.

'To my dearest Marinette,

To the girl I can't forget,

You, with your heart of gold,

You with strength and soul untold.

A fire burning beneath the oceans blue,

A volcano lifting islands new,

For you are the girl who will rise,

And now I see through your disguise.

With all nine my lives, to you I vow,

To be yours alone beginning now,

To always protect, always to serve you,

And never be anything but true.

My lady kind and brave,

From this impurrfect knave,

I willingly unto you impart,

Will you please accept my heart?'

She reread it. And again.

Marinette wasn't sure whether to cry, scream, or jump for joy.

First off, it was clearly a love poem. No two ways about it. It was also from Adrien fucking Agreste, and the fact that he had written this himself, to her, by name, made his love confession all the more real and terrifying and exciting.

But that wasn't the thing that had her on the verge of screaming.

“Tikki!”

“What is it, Marinette?”

“Is... is Adrien Chat Noir?” She asked, her eyes searching the kwami for any hint of confirmation.

“What makes you think that?” Tikki evaded.

“I mean, listen to what he wrote here.” Marinette read the poem aloud.

“Wow, Marinette, he wrote you a love poem? How romantic!” Tikki swooned.

“That's besides the point right now Tikki! I think he's hinting that he's Chat Noir, and that he knows I'm Ladybug!”

“Where does he say that?”

“Uhh, 'I see through your disguise'? 'My Lady'? 'Nine lives'? 'Impurrfect'?”

“What's wrong with 'imperfect'?”

“No, no, he literally wrote purr in there, like a cat pun.” Marinette said, pointing at the line.

“Ooohhh. Well, that certainly seems to be hinting pretty strongly, doesn't it? Do you think he's really saying that? Do you think he's telling the truth?” Tikki asked. She knew the answer, but she needed Marinette to discover this and make the decisions herself. It wasn't her place to meddle. Adrien had discovered Marinette's secret, and was trying to tell her, even if it was kind of cryptic.

“I- I don't know, Tikki... it seems like too many coincidences at once for it to not be the case. And Adrien-- and Chat too-- would never lie to me.” She mulled it over.

On the one hand, Chat was a goofball. Always punning, his lopsided smile, his playful flirty nature... but... Adrien punned a lot too. Hadn't she seen Adrien smile like that from time to time as well? Adrien flirting though... she reread the poem and realized this poem is really effing flirty. Chat Noir was also protective, honorable, and kind. Check, check and check for Adrien. Blond hair, green eyes, about the same height and build... after her argument with Chat about Christmas gifts, she had to admit, he probably was from a rich family. The more she thought about it, the more it made sense. Adrien and Chat were never in the same room at the same time. She started thinking about every interaction she had with both boys, and it slowly started clicking in place.

“Oh my gosh Tikki! Adrien's a dork!” She covered her mouth with her hand.

Tikki giggled. “You're only figuring that out now?”

Marinette giggled a little, and then again. She started laughing harder, and it evolved into a full bellied laugh, tears streaming down her face. Tikki was briefly worried that Marinette was having a psychotic breakdown, but the girl started trying to talk through the laughter.

“P-poor Adrien!” She choked out. “During Simon Says! Back and forth! Being in the shower! It was a ruse!” She broke out in laughter anew.

Eventually she settled down, laughter coming out in short spurts as she remembered funny events or imagined him changing back and forth for different akumas.

She sighed happily, clutching a pillow to her heart.

“Adrien is Chat Noir, Tikki. He really, really is. And he loves me. Both sides. He's my best friend, and I'm in love with him.” She stared, eyes unfocused. “Oh Tikki... what do I do?” She bemoaned.

Tikki smiled fondly, and landed beside her chosen.

“You tell him, Marinette.”

Marinette pondered her words. It really did seem to be the best course of action. She smiled. “Yeah. I think I will. During Patrol tomorrow night.” She yawned.

“Get some sleep. You'll need your energy.” Tikki laid a kiss against Marinette's forehead, and curled up on the pillow beside her. “Good night, Marinette.”

“Good night, Tikki.”

The kwami smiled as she watched her chosen fall asleep. Tomorrow was going to be an interesting day.

Well, now I’ve done it. I’ve gone and gotten your hopes up for another speedy update. Way to go me.

Unfortunately, I have plans all day tomorrow (visits with family), and then I work 3 days in a row. I DO then have two days off, which might yield some creativity, but it may not. A work shift friday, and a day trip to do some wildlife photography saturday, and probably work on sunday... yeah, it might be a week or so.

I think I’ll squeak it out soon enough though. A little patience my little bugs and kitties.

I hope you enjoyed it, and as always, I love hearing your thoughts! :)

#miraculous ladybug #mlb #season of miracles #MLB:SOM #adrinette #ladynoir #marichat #ladrien #adrien agreste #Marinette Dupain-Cheng #tikki and plagg #gabriel agreste #redfox writes fanfic

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