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alonely-dreamer · 3 years

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Dangerous Creatures | Chapter 35: Dangerous Opportunities

Summary: Mackenzie, Elijah and Klaus keep busy in New-Orleans...

Pairing: Elijah x OC

Words: 2856

A/N: Please, note that I am French so there might be some mistakes here and there.

Masterlist

I made Marcel everything that he is.

I treated him like a son.

And when my father chased me and my family from New-Orleans a hundred years ago we believed Marcel was killed.

We each mourned him in our own way.

Yet, when I returned, I found not only had he survived… he had thrived.

Instead of seeking us out, instead of sticking together as one, he made a choice, to take everything my family had built and make it his own.

Now he is living in our home.

He is sleeping in our beds.

The letter ‘M’ he stamps everywhere… it’s not for Marcel.

It’s for Mikaelson.

I want it all back.

And if I have to push him out to get it, then that’s exactly what I’ll do.

***

Mackenzie’s giggles filled the room. “Stop it,” she kept repeating, but she didn’t mean it, and he knew that. They had started new games together, some even new to Elijah, as if Mackenzie was his muse inspiring him dirty little games he’d only play with her. It was innocent, at first, but soon, Mackenzie became more comfortable with him, more confident, and the stains of blood on the white bed sheets were so common now the compelled staff knew to change them almost every day. The implications of their activities only made them want each other more. Mackenzie, because she knew the effect her blood had on him, and Elijah, because he would never experience anything like this with anyone else other than her. Sure, he knew he would never love anyone the way he loved Mackenzie, but it wasn’t just about love. And that was something that made Mackenzie feel powerful. That was the reason why, sometimes, she refused to take his blood after they were done. So that she’d keep the marks. So that he knew they were there. His marks on her body. Claiming her. And she loved the way it made him feel when he saw them too.

While Mackenzie and Elijah were enjoying what both Katherine and Rebekah had called their ‘honeymoon period’, Hayley wished for death. Well, maybe not literally. But she did pretty much hate her life, and she didn’t have faith that it would get better in the next eighteen years. She was uncomfortable in every way. Not only was she pregnant with the world’s most hated supernatural creature, but her future baby’s father also was a total psychopath who didn’t see her as anything more than an incubator for his miracle baby. He had forbidden her from leaving the house where he left her to rot every day. Every day, she was left with a couple acting not unlike two hormonal teenagers around the house, in other words, alone, alone with dusty books she had no intention of reading, and a TV remote giving her access to hundreds of channels she wasn’t interested in watching at all. In other words, days passed and stayed the same, aside from the rising heat, and growing belly.

To make matters worse, when Elijah wasn’t busy eating his girlfriend (in every sense of the word), he turned into an over-protective grandpa, building the nursery from scratch, making sure she had vitamin, protein, everything a pregnant woman needs according to What To Expect When You’re Expecting, which she wouldn’t be surprised to find on his nightstand. Not only did it make her uncomfortable, and even more irritable, but it made Mackenzie self-conscious and sad, not matter how hard she was trying to hide it.

At first, Hayley thought it was jealousy. But Mackenzie was better than that. And she had no bad intentions towards Hayley, or feelings, on the contrary. After they had made sure Marcel’s secret weapon, whatever it was, could not detect Mackenzie’s powers, they had unlinked Hayley to Sophie, making the witches regret their whole plan to bring the Originals back in town, giving them enormous doubts about whether they would still go on with the plan to dethrone Marcel or not. Of course, Klaus was a threat to them now, after all they had done. Kidnapping Hayley, using his child to blackmail him… The witches were scared, and now, they had bigger problems than Marcel, and the witch community of New-Orleans was starting to turn against Sophie, who had insisted her sister’s plan would work. But Klaus didn’t attack the witches. No, Klaus was still in a suspiciously good mood. Aside from keeping Hayley locked up in the house, he was pleasant with his brother, he was pleasant with Mackenzie, and he was pleasant with Hayley, to whom his nickname little wolf had stuck. He wasn’t acting like a future father, by any means. He didn’t check on Hayley’s health, never asked how she felt or if she needed anything. He didn’t spend any time in the nursery, helping Elijah, or didn’t even talk baby names with his future baby’s mother, not that anyone had expected that from him. No. Klaus spent all his time with Marcel, and they were seemingly getting along great, greater than great, in fact, as if they were the best of friends who weren’t hiding deadly secrets from each other.

Hayley had started to worry about his behavior. What if he really enjoyed spending time with Marcel? What if he just wanted to get back at the witches? What if he didn’t care? What if… all the bad things Klaus could do, that she could think of, or even scarier, that she couldn’t even imagine. However, her worries were put to rest one day, as Klaus came back home one night with a newly made vampire named Josh.

“Josh here,” he had told them, “will be my eyes and ears. My joker, my…”

“Yeah, yeah, we get it,” Hayley had interrupted him. “He’s your spy.”

Klaus had gotten to Josh before Marcel even had the chance to put him under vervain. The vampire was compelled thoroughly by the Original hybrid and will be the key to taking Marcel down.

Though the existence of Josh was a relief for everyone, neither his brother nor his girlfriend trusted him in any way. Not when he was in such a good mood. He was plotting something, and they had a feeling it was nothing good, for anyone.

***

Mackenzie caressed Elijah’s hair, her thoughts wandering back to earlier that day, when he had taken her to one of his favorite places in New-Orleans, a once peaceful beautiful park that was now a crowded and loud playground. She sighed, moving slightly but enough for Elijah to let a drop of blood slide down on Mackenzie’s neck. It drew a red line on her slightly tanned skin and the drop came to rest down her cleavage. She ignored it, she knew he’d take care of it later. Though the maids would have to change the sheets again in the morning.

She had almost forgotten his mouth buried in her neck, his free hand moving up and down her arm, as they were lying naked in their bed, resting from their long day of exploring the city Elijah had missed so much for the past century. He drank from her, her blood, the most delicious in the entire world, like she was the Fountain of Youth herself and he was the only one who got to drink from her, the only one who had that privilege, because he was the one who had discovered her. He had been there first, explored and found her and now she was his and only his and that thought would never cease to amaze him, to make him feel like the luckiest man in the world. But right now, Mackenzie felt everything but lucky, as she was haunted by a picture that would not leave her mind. A picture of his face in that park. And the look that said it all, even though he would never say it aloud, perhaps because he didn’t know it himself. A look she knew well now as it kept coming back, every time he looked at Hayley, every time he talked about the baby, about what Klaus should be doing but wasn’t, about everything he was doing in his brother’s place. It saddened him, perhaps unknowingly, and it saddened her as she knew she could never give that to him. In truth, no one could give that to him. But as powerful as she was, she felt she should be able to do anything, and everything she could do, but that.

He was content, lying in her arms, her hand in his hair, her blood in his throat, just enjoying the moment, enjoying her. But that was not the only reason why the question took him by surprise.

“Do you want kids?”

He froze, puzzled by the question. It surprised him, not only because it seemingly came out of nowhere, but mostly because he had buried that question and that answer a long time ago deep inside of him. So deep, in fact, that it was a hidden part of him, like an obvious take away of his very existence, of every single one of his actions. So deep, that the answer was practically engraved on his bones, carved onto his heart, like an invisible dormant pain that he would never let himself feel or remember. An immortal curse that could not be enchanted away and that will torment him for the rest of his eternity. Why that question? Why here, why now?

He slowly and gently retracted his teeth from her vein, licked the blood that escaped from the wound, though he knew he wouldn’t be able to stop it from bleeding as he moved away and looked up at her. She had asked the question so quietly, like a whisper, like a spell echoing in his head, losing itself in time, making his bones quiver like an earthquake would make a house shake. That question had been asked and answered centuries ago. That choice had been made for him centuries ago. That choice had been taken away from him centuries ago.

She was looking away but turned towards him as he sat up and pulled the duvet to cover them. Not because they were cold, but because the time for their adult activities was obviously over. Now, they had to have another kind of adult conversation.

“I can’t have children, you know that.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

“Mackenzie…”

“Do you? Want children of your own?”

“It doesn’t matter if I do. I can’t.”

“I know you do,” she said quietly, once again looking away, staring at that spot that didn’t exist.

“Where is this coming from?”

She shrugged. “Same place your regret is coming from…”

“I have no regret,” he replied, confused.

“You regret not being able to have children.”

“That is hardly anyone’s fault but my parents, and they are dead. There is no one to blame, though blame wouldn’t lead us anywhere.”

Her hand found his arm and her fingers caressed his skin as if touching him would fix everything.

“Why do you ask?”

“I don’t know… I just thought… it’s unfair Klaus gets to have a child and you don’t. He clearly has no interest in it. But you do.”

“My interest in Hayley’s pregnancy doesn’t go beyond anything an uncle wouldn’t do. Though, I am no ordinary uncle.”

“This is no ordinary family.”

“And that is why your question has no answer, my love.”

She looked back at him. He rarely used such words in front of other people, but when they were alone, when they were being intimate, he called her all sorts of sweet words. ‘My love’ being the sweetest. ‘My love’ was the answer. It meant ‘don’t ask’, ‘it’s okay’, ‘I get it’, ‘I love you too’.

***

Klaus’ face tired of his never-ending smiling. However, he was motivated. Nothing would stop him from reaching his goal. Nothing ever could. And certainly not a stupid smile.

He couldn’t tell which was louder, the screams or the music, however, he had stopped caring. He was tired and annoyed, and he wanted to leave this wretched court of amateurs as soon as possible. Marcel called himself a King and had forged himself a throne, but he was just some tyrant wannabe, a little boy in a paper crown running around with his friends, bullying the weakest kids on the playground. Though he would never reproach Marcel from banishing the werewolves from the Quarter or stopping the witches from doing magic, everything that had allowed him to get to that point he had stolen from him, and that fact was like wood to a fireplace, it kept his immortal rage burning.

Perch on the balcony above the party, Klaus and Marcel stood like Kings in a court of horrors, watching their nobles feast on the buffet. Though Klaus was too old to enjoy such an obvious and basic vampire party, he had to give Marcel a nod of approval every once in a while, to keep things civil. He was bored out of his mind and had run out of things to talk about with his ‘friend’. Fortunately, Marcel had a surprise for his sire.

“I’m hosting a party.”

“Yes, you are,” the hybrid nodded, making the vampire laugh.

“No. I mean, I’m planning a party, in two days. It’s a charity dinner for some… I don’t know, charitable organization for the city.”

“I didn’t take you for the charitable type,” Klaus teased.

“Well, I got a reputation to uphold,” he replied with an amused smile. “It’s mostly an excuse to see Camille again, though.”

“Who? Ah, the bartender.”

“Yeah, the bartender,” he chuckled. “It’s a fancy dinner, just your brother’s type of things.”

“You’re inviting Elijah?” Klaus raised an eyebrow, surprised Marcel would want to be anywhere near his brother.

“Right, and his witch girlfriend, you know, what’s her name…”

“Mackenzie.”

“That’s right. She’s a funny little thing,” he said as he smiled at his sire accusatorily. “She’s not afraid of you.”

“Ah, she’s been through a lot.”

“Do you mean you?”

They laughed.

“I admit, I may have been less than cordial to her… more than once.”

“It’s a miracle Elijah lets you go anywhere near her.”

Klaus knew what Marcel was doing, where this was going. He had been working at it slowly, but not as subtly, for a while now. Marcel wanted Elijah gone, out of his city, no matter how, no matter what it took. He figured Klaus was his best shot, and usually he would have been correct, but not now, not anymore. If anything happened to Elijah, Mackenzie would destroy the whole city, hell, the entire state. No, Klaus had one goal, and he wasn’t going to let Marcel distract him from it.

“It’s different with her. If I kill her, he’ll stop at nothing to take me down, and I’ve tired of our little wars. The last one lasted a century and almost killed me.”

“Ah, let him have his fun. She’s mortal, they’re fleeting little things.”

Klaus chuckled, though not because he found the obvious threat funny, but the mere thought of Marcel going after Mackenzie made him want to laugh. He’d pay to see it, if only it wouldn’t result in Marcel’s certain death.

“Not this one. This one is here to stay.”

Marcel frowned and looked at the hybrid with curiosity. “You actually mean that.”

“She’s a Mikaelson, Marcel,” he nodded as he put his hand on the King’s shoulder. “You know what happens when you go after a Mikaelson.”

Marcel laughed. “Hey, I’m just talking, no harm meant, no harm meant.”

“She’d kill you before you even had a chance to see it coming.”

“See, that’s my problem,” Marcel grimaced. “Witches aren’t allowed to do magic here, and I don’t think she’s understood that.”

“What? Your secret weapon’s been shining bright recently?”

Marcel laughed as he shook his head. “No, nothing like that. It’s the attitude, Klaus. Elijah… he doesn’t respect my authority here. And neither does she.”

“Then why invite them, then? They’re happy enough on their own. Trust me, they’re unbearable to be around right now. They’re so… in love,” he said, disgust visible all over his face, making Marcel laugh whole-heartedly.

“You were never one for sentiment.”

“Right then,” Klaus sighed. “I’ll let them know.”

“I appreciate that, brother.”

Marcel tapped him twice on the shoulder before he moved towards the middle of the balcony, where he’d be best seen from downstairs, to make his usual speech. The words never changed. “Have fun”, “don’t kill too many of them”, and last but not least:

“And no matter what you do, no matter how good she smells or how pretty she looks, leave the barefoot blonde alone!”

That last part they all said together like a chant, like it was a joke. But when Marcel explained the meaning to Klaus the first night, he learnt he wasn’t joking in the least. He had puzzled out all the tiny bits of information Marcel could give him, and the hybrid knew it was no joke indeed.

#dangerous creatures #vampire diaries #the vampire diaries #tvd #the originals #elijah mikaelson #elijah x oc #klaus mikaelson #hayley marshall #marcel gerard #fanfic #fanfiction #imagine #reader #oc #elijah x reader

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popculturebuffet · 3 years

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The Life and Times of Scrooge McDuck: The Last of the Clan McDuck! Review “It Was Worth THE Dime”

This is one of my faviorite comic book stories of all time. Given i’m a massive comics nerd, for both books and strips, that is the highest praise I can give this wonderful, epic, beautifully drawn and deeply emotoinal story. I first discovered it in the local library that had the second volume, and found the rest online at a now long dead fan site. And while it took me longer than I care to admit to really dig into Duck Comics, and even now i’ve only scratched the surface, I can say without a doubt this story is the reason I’m so deeply attached to Scrooge as a character, and that I was excited as I was for Ducktales 2017. This comic showed me just what Scrooge McDuck should be at his core as a character, and showed me what a wonderful character that is. So with all that glowing praise as you can guess i’ve been wanting to cover this for years, and even considered though back when I was more primarily a comic book reviewer last year. Any time i’ve reviewed stuff before now, i’ve considered it, and with Scrooge’s Sisters Hortense and Matilda presumably and definitely debuting on Ducktales soon, and it’s about damn time, the timing could not be better or clearer to dig into this utter triumph. But before we can take a look at the story itself we naturally have to take a look at the man behind it: Writer and Artist Don Rosa. Don Rosa is easily one of the best Duck Comics writer out there, seen by many as only second to his own faviorite duck comics writer and God of Ducks, Carl Barks. For those 1 of you who do not know, Barks was the man who created pretty much everything in the duck universe comics wise and a bit in animation too: He created Daisy, Scrooge, Gladstone, Magica, The Beagle Boys, The Junior Woodchucks, Gyro, Little Bulb, Glomgold, Rockerduck, and the list goes on. While he didn’t make EVERY duck, he made so many that it’d be impossible to imagine either version of Ducktales being possible without him. So of course Rosa was a fan and while he took up the family buisness, he was also an artist and duck comics fanboy on the side. So when, even if it meant a paycut, the opportunity to actually write and draw them came up, he lept at it and thus became one of their publishers go to guys, even if said publisher published the stories overseas where the Duck Comics are far more popular and still going to this day, and ironically where most duck comics printed nowadays get their stories from. Rosa was known for his meticous historical research and gorgeous art that he took his time drawing to get just perfect and showed on the page. The man has easily some of hte best and most detailed duck art around and I still haven’t found a duck artist that can match him.. and if you have or found one close i’d genuinely love to see that. He is a genuinely talented, spirited guy who was sadly mistreated by disney and that, coupled with tragically failing eyesight, eventually ended his career. He’s still around and I genuinely hope to meet him some day as he still does conventions. The man is not without fault: I don’t get his hatred of superhero comics, as while I get them overshadowing funnybooks and that around the time of his career they were in decline, but it’s just as unfair to write off Superhero comics as mindless. garbage as it is for people to write off the Duck Comics as “only for kids” and I genuinely wish he’d see that and see how the medium has evolved so much since then. I also grumble a bit as his refusal to allow anything besides barks into his bubble, and having to be forced to include fethry on the family tree, but that’s more personal preference. I like using as much material as you got. IT’s why i’ve wanted to, and hopefully will eventually get around to, write a sonic fanfic using bits of all the various universes that for legal, ken penders being an absolute waste of a human being, and sega being stupid reasons can’t be used anymore. I like taking everything in a franchise and putting it in a blender and it’s why I love the reboot. But there’s nothing wrong with taking things as is, not stepping on toes canon wise, but still being awesome. We’re just diffrent people and that’s okay. And a lot of his fanboy showing actually lead to REALLY good things: Goldie O’Gilt was a one off character, and while used ocasoinally overseas, didn’t really pick up as a character again until a combination of Ducktales 87 and Rosa’s work with her, as he always loved the character, and fleshing her out lead to her being used more, and gaining a sizeable fandom. He also gained the Cablleros an even bigger fandom by giving them two stories of their own, and fleshing them out a bit more. And this very comic is the peak of that, taking EVERY mention of scrooge’s past from various backstories to set up adventures, every tiny scrap, and to his credit going to both Barks Himself and various other Barks Experts Rosa was friends with to check his work, especially difficult given he likey had to find these stories in issue or pullt hem from disney archives, and complied it into one long epic that not only uses all this info effortlessly, but spins a compelling story that gives us a clear vision of what Scrooge should be, how he became the man he is, and how he lost himself only to find himself again with the help of three precocious boys and a cynical 30 something duck. So taint all bad is what i’m saying. As for how this got started, thankfully rosa himself provided the origin story for this project in the back of the volume of his works that contained the first 7 chapters of life and times, as well as detailed notes for every chapter. At the time Rosa was working for Egmont, the big european publisher who handles Disney’s much larger european comics market, hence why most of his stories appeared years earlier in Europe before debuting here. The american publisher at the time , and an old friend of his, called Rosa with an idea: A 12 issue Maxi-Series focusing on Scrooge’s history, since at the time they were all the rage.. and really even today mini series are still a viable market and many indie titles just have several minis instead of an ongoing. So it wasn’t a bad idea, Rosa just simply offered a tweak: He’d tell his publisher at Egmont about the idea, and let her get a crack team of writers and artists to do this proper, and thus Disney could publish it for free once it was done and for no extra cost. Rosa gave his publisher a fax detaling both the idea and the fact that it needed to be done right, given to the best person possible, and done with the greatest care. She agreed.. and naturally handed it to him, as he admits he hoped. She made the right call, a legend was born and here we are. One last bit before the read more and before I get to the first story itself at last: Since barks wrote a lot of side stories that fit into the canon, I COULD slot them in between chapters, but have instead chosen to review the original 12 part story as was, and do the various side stories and two epilogues, the utterly fantastic “Dream of a Life Time”, easiliy one of my faviorite comics ever, and the also really great “Letter From Home”, which will likely on some level be the basis for the upcoming at the time of this review “Battle for Castle McDuck!”, after completing the story. In other words i’m probably going to be at this for years. so join me under the read more won’t you as I begin the journey of a thousand miles with a single step as we look at the humble start of a legend.

We begin, after a fun short teaser with present Day scrooge saying his past is no one’s buisness only to get hit with an oh yeah?, with a scrap book title for the issue, something I want to bring up since while I got that’s what it was what I never got, and must’ve glanced over when I first read rosa’s notes when I got this copy, was that it isn’t SCROOGE’S scrap book, but his sister Matilda’s who dutifully and happily catologued her brother’s adventures. It’s a really sweet moment.. and something that will hit VERY hard when we reach Chapter 11. If you haven’t read this story or heard of it.. .that’s this story’s equilvent of “Last Crash of the Sunchaser” and clearly Frank and Matt drew from that story a bit for it, but we can get more into the parallels when we get there. A smaller but fun note is that Rosa had specific coin drawing templates, for different indentions and what not he used, and used them for the coins in these intro bits. Yes he admitted he has a problem and yes that’s damn impressive anyway.

It’s Scrooge’s 10th birthday, and his father Fergus has taken him up to see the family land, Dismal Downs to tell him of the mighty Clan McDuck and show him the ancestral lands, graveyards and Castle. He admits to having taken this long because the Clan McDuck currently lives in Glasgow so it’s kind of a long trip just to show your son “Hey look at the decay and rot that’s our ancestral homeland”. The Clan is on hard times, as a bad shipping deal, the backbone of a rather good barks story and I wont’ be interjecting for every barks reference as it’d get rather tiring though for what it’s worth Rosa provided tons of detailed footnotes in the back of each Fantagraphics collection, so good on him. Speaking of which though they do include 10 pages of Mc Duck family history that was supposed to open this story.. until Rosa’s editor wisely pointed out the story isn’t about them but scrooge and having read his roug draft, yeah.. there’s a good gag here and there, as well as “Dirty” Dingus McDuck, scrooge’s Grandpa and the reason Dewey is cursed with that middle name. Why anyone thought Dingus was a good name is beyond me, nor why Donald thought that was a good middle name back in 2009 is again, beyond me. Good on Don though for getting that past the censors. But yeah with no money they can’t buy the land back and they were scared off it years ago by a mystical ghost dog, the hound of the whiskervilles. There is treasure in the castle, Sir Quackly’s gold, but he accidently sealed himself into a wall while sealing his treasure in there. Their interrupted by the town assholes, the Whiskervilles who have been grazing sheep on the land and are naturally behind the hound, using the sound of it to scare off Fergus once they realize he’s a McDuck. Because apparently you can keep a Scooby Doo style hoax up for Centuries if you don’t have meddling kids around. Who knew. Back in Glasgow, we meet the rest of Scrooge’s family: His Uncle Jake, his sisters Matilda and Hortense, and his mother Downy. Jake hasn’t really been mentioned at all in Ducktales and I know next to nothing about him, which given I share a name with the guy you’d THINK I would. I mean I know a decent amount about this Jake.

But nothing about who the hell Jake McDuck is or why he lives with his brother and his family. Here, you guys watch the dancing Jake, i’m going to probably do that for hours after this review is done, i’m going to go sort this out. Okay one google and finding the Scrooge Mcduck wiki page on him, Jake shows up here likely because he was referenced in the story “A Christmas For Shacktown” and apparently borrowed from Scrooge and never paid it back. Otherwise.. there’s not a lot about him and unlike the rest of Scrooge’s family he really dosen’t do much that I can remember. Except like 2017 Scrooge, he apparently has become extremely long lived, as Scrooge and Donald STILL think he’s alive in the 1950′s.. and likely is STILL alive in some form in the Don Rosa stories, given his take place after Barks and thus in the 40′s and 50′s where Barks stories were set. Hence why unlike the Reboot, Scrooge isn’t inexpecilbly over 210. But Jake McDuck sure as heck is. Maybe this highlander is a highlander.. you know the movie and tv show type. Maybe someone cut off his head. That’s what i’m going with.

This does bring me to another point about this story: While Barks gave all of scrooge’s family their names, it’s where Rosa got them after all, it’s Rosa who really made them into characters. Fergus as a loving father ashamed his family legacy has fallen and wanting his son to do better than him, Downy as an equally loving wife and mother, Matilda as his sweet and caring sister and later her brother’s moral center, and Hortense.. well here she’s just a babbling baby but her character will become clear and glorious as we go. She is adorable here though and we do get some great bits with her. Getting back to the plot now i’ve made my points, Jake is riled up wanting to understandably kick the Whiskerville’s asses with Scrooge, who even as a sweet innocent ten year old still has the family temper already, agreeing.. but Downy gently shoots them out pointing that two middle aged-ish men and a 10-year old just aren’t enough to fight an army of them and while she doesn’t mention it the fight would just tire them out for work and accomplish nothing as while it is the McDuck’s land the combination of the hound and the lack of money to move back means it’s pointless. She also mentions their younger brother Pothole, who went to America. This will be important later.

Scrooge storms off and Fergus laments, in a scene that’s more painful the more I think about it, how his clan has fallen, with he and his brother lamenting their chances at glory are long gone.. but Fergus has hope his son can do better, and for his son’s birthday makes him a shoeshine kit in the hopes of inspiring him to greatness. This scene still resonates since many of us are poor, struggling and not doing so good money wise. I’m sure many parents have doubts and regrets about not being able to do more for their kid.

Not only that but the story carefully avoids the trap of Fergus accidently being abusive by you know, pinning his family’s future on one 10 year old. While yes he is asking a lot of Scrooge, to restore their family name.. it’s very clear he mostly just wants his son to do better than him. Even if Scrooge was just slightly more successful, Fergus would likely be happy with that. He’s not using the legacy as a “This what you must be” like say the Gems in steven universe did for Steven with Rose’s Legacy, the kind where it sort of suffocates you till youc an make it your own. He’s just saying “this is what you can be” He believes his child can be great and simply once him to reach his full potetial and is simply giving him a means to hopefully do so, a simple home made shoe shine kit. While Jake scoffs, the narration notes the idea isn’t worth a dime.. it’s worth THE dime. The dime that would set Scrooge’s destiny in motion.

The next morning, Fergus goes to check up on his son and his new buisness but Scroogey’s having no luck and about ready to just quit, the poor child. Also Matilda is dragging her baby sister around like a doll and it’s entirely precious as it is funny.

But as for those Dorty Boots, Matilda wonders why her dad dosen’t just tell Scrooge that Burt the Ditch Digger is coming. Fergus tells her to quite and then explains his plan: he’s sending Burt to scrooge, with an American dime Fergus and Matilda found, to teach his son a lesson: By giving him a hard days work, he’ll teach him what hard work truly means.. and by having Burt “cheat” him with the American dime, it’ll give him the motivation to keep going and to nto be as wide eyed and trusting. It’s a well meaning if harsh lesson, and the kind you’d expect from 1900′s parenting and fits the origin well: Scrooge still earned his first money square, as he still did work.. but his getting cheated being a lesson dosen’t diminish what it taught scrooge, and helps flesh out what I talked about above, Fergus knowing his son has great potential he just needs inspiration to reach it. And instead of just telling him that he does a con job but it’s the 1900′s. This orign, and Fergus’ part in it would be entirely untouched in Ducktales 2017, the first scrooge based adaptation since this comic came out, and I bless them for it. Frank even said this comic was used as a bible by the writers and while theirs clear deviations, and we’ll get to that, they were mainly done for good reason, and it’s very clear that while scrooge’s history is very VERY diffrent in the reboot, the core of his past is still there.

So the plan is on and young scrooge spends half an hour killing himself to get Burt’s shoes clean before getting his dime.. and realizing he’s been had, makes this proud decleration that will be the bedrock of his entire life and character.

Scrooge being naturally stubborn as you can see takes his cheats a leson: There will always be hard honest work, and he will be there to do it and he’ll be tougher and sharper than anyone trying to cheat him out of his pay. Fergus’ plan has the intended effect, and Scrooge having learned a hard lesson now has the drive and determination we know him for. As for why it gives it to him.. I had to think on it a bit but it makes sense: For some a setback like this would make them quit.. for Scrooge it’s just proof he CAN find customers, he CAN do this job, or any at his hardest and instead takes this as a lesson to be prepared ot out think and outfight anyone who dares cheat him again, and to not earn his money by being the kind of guy who cheats a kid out of an honest days pay, but as a good honest duck like his father and his father before him. =He will make his money square so he can be the kind of person this seeming stranger SHOULD have been. Granted we’ll see Scrooge doesn’t end up as the best person at times but .. we’ll get there. So with the fire inside turned from a spark into the flame Scrooge soon got to work, and by the next panel we see he’s eventually worked his stand up from a small box given to him by his dad, to a three seater shoeshining bench, who he wipes all at once by stretching one of his mother’s girldes over a light pole, a detail I didn’t get the first time around but now love. Naturally being a good kind boy much like his Nephews, Scrooge always gave his proud father a portion of his earnings, if with a full receipt for tax purposes. Because he’s still scrooge after all. His dad wonders he did too good a job while Hortense glxbit’s in agreement.

As the years go on, a now tween Scrooge is eventually able to save up for a horse cart, and starts selling Fire Wood up in the city. He eventually realizes Peat, an earthy subtance found in bogs I only know about because I had to look it up for this review, is more profitable and with some snappy marketing moves into selling Peat for the rich instead, also showing the young lad already has a grasp of how to sell to obnoxious rich people.

But while his business is booming, our young hero can’t resist visiting his family’s ancestral home and longing for it, hoping one day to have it for himself and in a nice show of how despite his temper and tenacity forged over the last few years he’s still at hear the kind, sweet optimistic lad he was just a few pages ago, he decides to tidy up the Clan’s Cemetary while he’s here.

Unfortunately as proof that Donald and Della’s terrible luck comes from both sides of the family the Whiskervilles are sub-glomgold levels of human beings.. or Dogfaces in this case, and are digging up the McDuck Clan’s graves to hunt for treasure. Scrooge tries to simply do the smart thing and flee, but the asshole brigade catch sight of him and mistkaing him for a peat burgalar chase after him.. and spend WAY too much time and energy chasing a teenage boy over some fucking bog grass you clearly aren’t selling yourselves. I mean spare a thought for how dumb this is: They could easily sell of of that peat to put up a fence or chop down some trees to get the material if their really that concerned about someone getting in the bog. Then again this isn the 1800 and 1900′s where the child death toll was simply “Yes”, so they likely thought whose gonna notice one more dead child on our property?

Scrooge heads toward the castle and is gestured in by a friendly mystery duck who gladly shows him around and can tell he’s a McDuck just by look, showing the castle is still in glorious condition as the whiskervilles are too spooked to go in, hence why they didn’t chase Scrooge inside. I’d say being afraid of ghosts but not murdering a child is weird but these are the same guys who thought murdering a child was plan A. We’re not dealing with a brain trust is what i’m saying. So the mystery duck shows Scroogey around, showing off some colorful stories about his ancestors recycled from that scrapped prologue I mentioned. THe mystery man, who brushes off Scrooge thinking he’s a McDuck asks Scrooge what he’s doing to restore the family glory and while Scrooge points out he’s already working on it, Mystery Duck points out he’s still missing something: He has the drive and the dream, but peat and shoeshining, while getting him good money for his family, aren’t the thing you can build a fortune or a future off of. He then points out where Scrooge’s dime comes from: America.. and that gives the boy the idea to head to the states. As for what he could possibly DO there to start, the mystery guy mentions his uncle pothole. So Scrooge has the dream, the drive.. and now a plan: Go to america, work for his uncle on the riverboats, and work his way up from there till he finds his fortune and restores his family name. But while his future is settled, the present is still an issue and Scrooge wants to teach the child murder club a lesson and thus borrows, though MM wisely points out it’s all his property a horse and some armor, and stuffs the armor with peat. As for what his plan is.. welllll

That.. is fucking awesome. And far from the last fucking awesome moment in this thing. It also shows off even as not quite a teen yet, Scrooge is still a badass already, and while he doesn’t have his trademark strength or fighting skills quite yet, his ingenuity is already there.. and that will always trump both. The Whiskervilles run away and into some quicksand and Scrooge vows to return one day as laird and reclaim his family land. But that’s a story for a few chapters down the line. As for who the mystery duck is, he’s naturally Sir Quackely himself, or rather his ghost, who was simply guiding Scrooge and didn’t give him the treasure as simply handing him the money wouldnn’t restore their family’s good name or continue their bloodline now would it?

For now Scrooge returns to work for a bit before finding his way to America: A cattleboat to New Orleans looking for a Cabin Boy. And so Scrooge bids farewell to his family. His Dad, feeling bad he can’t even give his boy shilling, gives him the family pocketwatch with jake pitching in with the family gold dentures. While Scrooge naturally refuses to sell the watch, he does plan to sell the teeth as soon as possible for good reason. We then get some sweet goodbyes with him, his sisters (With hortense uttering her first words to everyone’s astonishment) and loving mother as he wonders just what awaits him in America.

And there he stands on the bow of a ship, heading for a new land, in New Orleans he can be a new man. And we’ll see just what kind of man he becomes as this series continues. For now this is the end of a chapter but the beginning of a lifetime.

Final Thoughts on Last of the Clan McDuck:

This story is excellent. While there are even better chapters to come, this one is still one of the most memorable and most joyous, showing just how Scrooge became what he is, where some of his values come from, others will be instilled along the way , and beginning to flesh out his family. We see Scrooge’s love of wealth comes from starting from the bottom, growing up with a family that barely had anything and badly needed everything, but was loving and instilled fine morals in him. We also see a Scrooge far removed from the bitter old man he is in present day, an optimistic naïve young lad who only wants best for his family. It’s a nice stark contrast to who he’ll become, good and bad, and a nice way to both compare him to Huey Dewey and Louie and break your heart as his own hardens before briefly turning black later on. The art, as is standard for this series and Rosa, is breathtaking, and the story isn’t lacking in good jokes, their just downplayed so the story itself can take center stage. There’s nothing really more to say: it’s an excellent start to an even more excellent tale and stands proud among an already stellar story as one of it’s finest outings.

NEXT RAINBOW: Scrooge goes down to the mighty Missipi to work on the riverboats and meets one of his signature Rogue’s for the first time in their first form, as well as Gyro’s dad.. or grandpa.. or possibly both I don’t know his family tree. Point is, tune in next time for some riverboat hyjinks. Until then if you’d like to comission an episode of any animated show, especially ducktales and the various other duck related disney shows, or another Duck Comics story you really like from Rosa, Barks or whoever you want really, I take commissions for 5 dollars a review, with 5 dollars off your full order when you put in for more than one episode or issue. You can also follow me on patreon.com/popculturebuffet and for just two bucks a month get access to polls (which i’ll start once we have at least three patreons), and my exclusive discord server. And if you liked this review be sure to reblog it to show off. My self promotion done until next time: There’s always another rainbow.

#scrooge mcduck #don rosa #ducktales #the life and times of scrooge mcduck #fergus mcduck #downy mcduck #hortense mcduck #hortense duck #matilda mcduck #jake mcduck #uncle scrooge #duck comics #disney duck comics #carl barks

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thesassenachswiftie · 3 years

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Lover - Chapter 13: “Soon You’ll Get Better”

Read on AO3

Chapter 1 // Chapter 2 // Chapter 3 // Chapter 4 // Chapter 5 // Chapter 6 // Chapter 7 // Chapter 8 // Chapter 9 // Chapter 10 // Chapter 11 // Chapter 12

Summary: Claire and Jo go Christmas shopping; Claire gets a call at work that Lamb’s in the hospital in Boston where she fears she will need to spend the holidays without Jamie. In short: angst, but make it festive.

" This won't go back to normal, if it ever was It's been years of hoping, and I keep saying it because 'Cause I have to

Ooh-ah, you'll get better..."

CW: cancer, hospitals, illness of a loved one,

Notes: First of all, if you’re still here, thank you for reading, and thank you for bearing with me as I took a small hiatus. Hopefully I will be getting back to a more regular posting schedule, but work is really draining right now and it’s hard to find enough hours in the day to do everything.

As you know, each Chapter of this fic is based off a Taylor Swift song by the same name. This one was particularly difficult to write/approach because I actually haven’t listened to this song in over a year. In early Summer 2019, a tumor was found on my grandfather’s brain. This was also the summer I discovered Outlander, and the summer Taylor Swift released Lover. The day after Lover came out, I broke down sobbing in my apartment listening to this song and thinking about my grandfather, knowing his condition was worsening. That night, I recieved the call that my grandfather had passed. He was the kindest, purest soul and I write this chapter in part as a tribute to him. Many of the experiences Claire and Lamb share are based on my own experiences with my grandpa that summer, and this version of Lamb is very much based on my Grandpa Jim.

That being said, you may want to grab a box of tissues before reading, but hopefully not all your tears will be sad. I’m hoping to post again before Chistmas, but in case I don’t Merry Christmas, Happy Holidays--and Happy Hanukkah to any Jewish readers I may have--here is a Hanukkah present for you!

Chapter 13: “Soon You’ll Get Better”

“All I want for Christmas is yooouuuuu” the sounds of Mariah Carey rang out throughout the small boutique gift shop in the heart of the village of Northport.

“Good God, we’re only a week into December and I swear I’ve already heard this song three hundred times. I’m not exaggerating either. Two hundred and eight-four at the very least.” Jo scoffed exasperatedly.

“Are you complaining?” Claire asked in reply. “It’s a great song--a classic really.”

“Do you know how many incredible, amazing, beautiful, jolly Christmas songs there are in existence?” Jo was gearing up for one of their famous rants, “Yet, the radio stations only ever play the same eighteen songs, I swear!”

“It must be more than eighteen.”

“Fine. Twenty. Take this song for instance: Ingrid Michaelson has the most hauntingly beautiful cover of it--do you ever hear it? No! You only ever hear Mariah!”

“I, for one, like Mariah!” Claire interjected, playfully defensive.

“Who doesn’t? But she’s not the only powerhouse female vocalist out there! I’d just like to see a little diversity in my holiday music, is that so much to ask?”

Claire giggled. Her best friend always had an opinion on everything and she loved them all the more for it. “Do you think Jenny would like this candle?” Claire unscrewed the lid a locally-made jar candle, taking a sniff before placing it under Jo’s nose. It smelled like Lavender and Sage with just a hint of Eucalyptus.

“Does Jenny keep a lot of candles around, with all those children?” Jo chuckled back. “It does smell nice though.” Jo had only met Jenny a couple times when visiting Claire, but they had a knack for reading people and Claire was glad to have them along as a shopping partner.

“I suppose candles aren’t really her thing. Jenny seems very practical, but I don’t know what she would need that she doesn’t already have, and Jamie’s been no help!”

“I think you’re on the right track with the self-care/relaxation vibe, but maybe not something the children can use to burn the house down. What about an artisanal lotion set?” Jo inquired, gesturing at a nearby display.

“Oh that might work!” Claire took a squirt from the bottle labeled ‘tester’ inhaling deeply as she rubbed it between her palms. “Ooo that’s nice, I would appreciate this if I were a hardworking mother.”

“If things keep going the way they are with your man, LJ, you might just be before you know it” Jo made a lewd gesture with their hands, raising their eyebrows to make it clear exactly what they were implying.

“Jo! You’re terrible” Claire shrieked, smacking her friend playfully on the arm. Besides, not much of that happening these days if you haven’t noticed, Jamie is literally across the ocean.”

“Well, at least you can’t get knocked up from phone sex,” Jo replied. “What are you getting him anyway? I’m thinking something lacy and strappy, with little bows on it of course, to be festive. There’s a place down the street that might have something like that.”

“Hmm” Claire exhaled. “We’ll see.” Claire knew lingerie was definitely going to be part of Jamie’s Christmas gift, one she would be most excited for him to unwrap. God, she missed him. It had been over a month and they were settling into a routine, video chatting every night, sweet texts back and forth throughout the day, the occasional phone sex when they were both sick with desire for one other--but nothing was the same as the feel of their bodies pressed against each other in the heat of the moment, chasing each other’s climax. Claire couldn’t wait to be reunited with him in every way.

It was two days before Christmas break, only a few days left until Claire would find freedom for the next ten days and, most of all--the comfort of Jamie’s arms. Claire was sitting in her school nurse’s office, inhaling deeply during the first quiet moments she’d had all week. There was an uptick of student visits in the past couple weeks--a few were legitimate concerns tied to cold and flu season: students whose parents sent them to school when they weren’t quite well enough, overachievers who wanted to maintain their perfect attendance dragging themselves to school despite their bodies protestations. Most of her patients however, were suffering from something much more insidious: the eagerness to start their winter break early by skipping their classes. This time of year the air of the school felt different, students and teachers alike were burnt out, apathetic, and ready for a break. This attitude in the students fed into the teachers’ attitudes--overworked with the end of the marking period, trying to squeeze in Christmas shopping and decorating between grading. Claire did not envy Jo nor any of the other teachers during this time, but their exhaustion was so palpable in the air of the school that she was starting to feel it too. By tomorrow, most teachers would be shutting their doors and playing a holiday film, giving up on instruction all together--hopefully that would make for a quiet day for Claire. Really, if she could just get through the rest of the day it would be smooth sailing until Christmas--until Jamie.

Her silent musings were broken by the blaring sound of her office phone. She was expecting a teacher, calling to send a student down, but instead it was the school clerk, Glenda. “Hi Nurse Beauchamp, we have an outside call for you, it seems like it may be a personal call so if there’s any students with you we can send someone down to watch them if you’d like to take it privately here in the office.”

Claire's heart sank to her stomach. What could it be? She took a deep breath and swallowed to brace herself before replying “last student just left.”

“Alright, I’ll transfer you now.” The click of the call transferring sounded through the phone.

“Hello, this is Miss Beauchamp”

“Hello Miss Beauchamp, I’m Tammy, a nurse at Mass General we’re calling because you’re listed as the emergency contact for Quentin Beauchamp” a nasally voice croaked through the phone speaker--the voice was impersonal like that of a cashier saying “have a nice day” for the thousandth time, not fitting of a potential harbinger of death.

“Yes…” Claire replied, nervously, questioningly.

“Mr. Lambert was admitted this morning after showing signs of cognitive distress. An initial cat scan shows a mass on his brain. He’s currently undergoing testing to see if it’s cancerous.”

Claire’s lungs felt like they were about to collapse. Lamb had been diagnosed with prostate cancer several years ago, but had been able to live with it through treatment. Claire also knew that cancer was insidious and could spread throughout the body rapidly and without warning. She knew it was very likely that the mass was cancer. She tried to find her medical professional voice, but a diagnosis was different when it was someone you loved. Instead, she croaked out, “when will you know?”

“We should have the results by tomorrow. He’ll stay here overnight for monitoring and we’ll decide whether to admit him long term from there.”

“I’m on Long Island, should I drive up?”

“I’m afraid it’s too soon to tell, it could be nothing, but--” Claire cut her off, knowing exactly how bad it could be.

“I understand. I’ll drive up this evening.”

“Alright, he should be back in his room by then, he’s out getting his tests done now. It’s room 713 when you get here.” Claire wrote the number on a bright blue sticky note on her desk as the nurse spoke. “Have a nice day Ms. Beauchamp”

“Hmm” was all she could reply, as if she could possibly have a nice day. She hung up the phone, and finally let the deluge of tears she’d been holding back free.

She allowed herself to cry for a few minutes to get it out, but she knew she had to get to Boston as soon as possible. She picked up the phone again and dialed the main office.

“Hi Glenda, it’s Claire. I need to take the rest of the day off--I have to go to Boston, my uncle…” she couldn’t say it out loud for fear of unleashing the tears again “Is Principal Gowan there, I need to let him know.”

“Oh Nurse Beauchamp, I’m so sorry to hear that, let me know if you need anything. Mr. Gowan’s in his office, I’ll transfer you to him now, if he doesn’t answer just pack up your things and go, I’ll take care of it”

“Thanks Glenda, I really appreciate it”

----------

After getting the ok from her kind and understanding principal, Claire rushed back to Jamie’s apartment, hastily packed a bag (likely forgetting several things), informed Jenny where she was going--which was met with sympathy and genuine concern--and hopped back in the car for the journey to Boston. She entered the hospital doors several hours later, the buttons of her coat were tangled in her hair as she rushed, breathless, to the front desk to receive her visitor’s pass.

When she arrived at Lamb’s room, he was asleep. She didn’t want to wake him, but she gave his hand a reassuring squeeze to let him know she was there before settling into the armchair beside him to await his awakening. He looked so frail and small in the hospital bed, not at all like the strong, spirited man who had raised her. He had left the television on--some sports channel was playing a highlight reel of various golfing moments. No wonder Lamb fell asleep. Claire was staring at the screen, but her thoughts were elsewhere: worried about Lamb, wondering if she’d remember everything when she hastily packed, wondering what the future held. Would she have to spend Christmas in this hospital room? A golf ball soared across the Scottish Highlands on the screen. Jamie. Jamie was coming home Christmas Eve, she was supposed to pick him up from the airport, supposed to spend her holiday break with him, experience her first Hogmanay with the Murray family, be surrounded by love and laughter and family. Lamb was supposed to be fine, he was supposed to take the train down, spend Christmas with them. Every plan they had made was shattered into a million pieces. Would she even be able to see Jamie? She thought about the presents she’d bought for him, not yet wrapped, piled in the closet but definitely not hidden, especially considering it was his apartment. Of course he’d understand--she could tell him where they were, but the magic of unwrapping would be lost, it would feel entirely unsentimental. It was bad enough that she felt her gifts weren’t sentimental enough--what could she possibly get him to show how special he was to her? How could she communicate that with an object? If she were a painter she would paint him a painting, if she were a songwriter she would write him a song, but she was simply Claire, and practical gifts were all she knew. She had purchased a cozy blue sweater to match his eyes and keep him warm in the brisk London winters, a cool multi-tool the size of a credit card that would fit in his wallet and help him solve a variety of problems, a protective case for his phone, and a box of artisanal beef jerky. She had also procured a complicated piece of lingerie with a big red bow across the chest for him to unwrap the night of Christmas, which she knew he would enjoy. Everything was thoughtful enough and mostly practical, but she longed to be able to give him something truly special--a grand gesture to match her feelings for him. Claire glanced back at her uncle and immediately felt guilty being so selfish. I hate to make this all about me. Lamb always had a knack for helping her realize what was important when life’s situations overwhelmed her. She needed him for perspective, but how could she talk to him about this? How could she tell him how she felt? She knew it was wrong, but she was mad at him for getting sick so close to Christmas. Who am I supposed to talk to? What am I supposed to do if there’s no you? The tears were welling up in her eyes as she watched her most beloved uncle sleep--hooked up to machines, pale and listless in the hospital bed.

Claire slipped into the adjoining bathroom to try to compose herself--she didn’t want her uncle to wake up and see her upset, she knew he would try to comfort her, to be the rock he always had been for her. She was here to be his rock this time, she needed to stay strong for him. She looked at herself in the mirror, telling herself it was going to be ok--her uncle was strong and he’d been fighting a long time--he’d continue to fight. Soon you’ll get better. She had to convince herself it was true, pretend it wasn’t real, it wasn’t so bad. She knew it was a delusion, she could see it all over her glass face when she looked in the mirror. She was genuinely afraid that this could be when she lost him, if not physically right away, he could be lost mentally. She’d been hoping for years he would get better, but now it seemed he’d taken a turn for the worse. She took a few deep breaths and offered up a prayer. She wasn’t usually religious, but they say desperate people find faith, so she decided it was time to try. God? Jesus? Whoever is up there. I know I don’t much deserve anything from you, I’m not sure I’m exactly on good terms with you, but I’m inclined to believe you care and you are good. Besides, I’m not really asking anything for myself, not really. I just pray my Uncle is ok, I pray he gets better. He has to. Please don’t take his brilliant mind away from him. Please let him be ok. Please, I’ll be good, I’ll do whatever it takes to help him. Just please, please, don’t take him away from me. I need him. Please let him get better. Please let him get better. Claire continued to repeat the words like a mantra as she returned to her bedside chair. She stared at the collection of orange bottles on the tray table. Please let them help him get better. Please let him get better. Please, please, please let him get better.

Claire had no idea how long she sat there, repeating those words to herself, but her silent appeal was interrupted when a nurse entered the room to check her uncle’s vitals.

“Hi, I’m Brenda, I’ll be the nurse on duty tonight.” Brenda erased a name on a small whiteboard in front of the room and replaced it with her own.

“I’m Claire, I’m his niece.”

Brenda had made her way over to the other side of the bed and was checking the monitors beside the bed, making notes on the chart in her hand. “I hate waking them up, but I’m going to have to.” Claire was glad that she was much kinder than the nurse she had spoken with on the phone earlier—had that really been earlier? It seemed much longer since that phone call. “Excuse me, Quentin? Sir?” Brenda gently nudged his arm to awaken him. Lamb’s eyes fluttered open and he looked disoriented, Claire watched him carefully hoping that his disorientation was solely from being awoken mid-sleep and not from any neurological damage.

“Hi Uncle Lamb” Claire stammered, hoping she sounded cheerful anyway.

“Claire! My girl! You came all the way to see your old uncle!”

“Of course I did! How are you?” she replied warmly.

“Oh, I’m fine, they’re taking good care of me here.” Lamb’s voice sounded genuinely content and Claire felt comforted for the first time since the hospital had called her earlier that day.

“Hello sir, my name’s Brenda, I’ll be your nurse tonight. I just need to ask you a few questions and check your vitals.”

“What is your name?”

“Quentin Lambert Beauchamp”

“Good. When is your birthday?

“March 23th, 1939”

“Good, and who is the president?”

“Well, unfortunately…” both Claire and Brenda giggled at how Lamb began his sentence. Claire was well aware of Lamb’s opinions of the current president of the United States, and was glad to see he hadn’t lost his sly sense of humor or his disdain for the man. She was also glad he knew who the president was, hopefully his mental capacities were more promising than the worst-case-scenario her mind was conjuring.

----------

Claire stayed by her uncle’s side for the rest of the night, only leaving the room twice, once to find something to eat from a vending machine, and once for her nightly call to Jamie. She allowed herself to break down when talking to Jamie, sobbing over the phone. Jamie did his best to comfort her through the speaker, desperately wishing he could be there for her in person. Claire wished the same, longing to curl up in his strong embrace, and bury her swollen face in his chest. She couldn’t bring up the fact that she might have to spend Christmas in Boston. She was enough of a mess without facing the reality that they wouldn’t see each other, and when Jamie promised they’d see each other soon at the end of their call, Claire hung up quickly as another wave of emotion overtook her and she buried her face in her hands to cry some more.

The next morning, the doctor came in with Lamb’s results. Claire grasped Lamb’s hand, unsure of who was holding onto whom for comfort as the doctor explained that the mass on Lamb’s brain was in fact cancerous, but it was still relatively small and had been caught early. He explained that they could operate on it and remove it, however there was no guarantee that it wouldn’t come back or that they’d be able to get it all out. It was moments like these where Claire desperately wished she was already a surgeon, that she could feel in control of the outcome--though could she operate on her own uncle? Would she be able to hold her hand steady enough to do a good job? No, perhaps it was best left to the veteran surgeons in Boston.

After discussing all the details and options with the doctor’s, Lamb decided to go through with the surgery. It was scheduled for the day after Christmas and Claire resigned herself to the sobering fact that she’d be spending the holidays in the hospital. As the florescent hospital lights lit the room with an unnatural glow, Claire couldn’t tell him she was scared. She had to stay strong, she had to keep it together and remain positive and supportive.

----------

Claire spent the next few days devoted to her uncle, rarely leaving his bedside. Lamb had forced her to spend the nights at his apartment, which was probably for the best. She wasn’t sleeping well to begin with and the recliner at the hospital was only making matters worse. Claire was present and doting on him from morning to night though, helping her uncle order his meals, assisting him when he needed to use the restroom, adding and removing pillows and blankets as needed, or anything else he needed or wanted. Lamb had been moved to the cancer floor, and the window of his new room had a nice view of the Boston skyline. Lamb was making the best of a bad deal, he bragged about his ‘luxury accommodations’, he cracked jokes often, he liked the nicer nurses, he ordered extra dessert with all his meals and was in generally pleasant spirits. Claire could see the cracks in his cognition though. Sometimes he would change the topic he was discussing mid-sentence, and he couldn’t seem to keep time straight. Whenever anyone would mention Christmas, he would act surprised to know that it was coming up, and at one point he hinted at Claire that she might just get those roller skates she wanted for Christmas, a gift she had not asked for since she was eleven years old. He didn’t seem to know what year it was or how old Claire was. He did know who Claire was though, and for that she was thankful. He also knew who the president was whenever the nurses asked, always beginning his answer with a short preamble to make known his disdain.

Before they knew it, it was Christmas Eve and Claire couldn’t hide the sadness she felt on her face. She was glad to spend the evening with Lamb, but she had been looking forward to her first big family Christmas. She had filled in Jamie about Lamb’s condition and her subsequent stay in Boston over the course of their phone calls that week. She had also describe the Christmas gifts she had purchased for the Murrays, Jo, and Lamb, so Jamie would know the rest were for him. Jamie had agreed to put the Murrays gifts in gift bags and distribute them for her. They were meant to exchange family gifts that evening, the morning being reserved for Santa, and Claire was heartbroken to be missing out. In a matter of hours, and for the first time in two months, her and Jamie would be on the same continent, yet they wouldn’t be able to see each other. There was no way Claire could get into the Christmas spirit under these conditions. The hospital, despite being modestly decorated, was not the most festive atmosphere. Even a troop of Girl Scouts caroling their way through the hospital halls did nothing to assuage the weight of losing everything Claire had been looking forward to for the past two months.

“What’s a matter, my dear?” Lamb asked, showing genuine concern for his niece.

“It’s nothing, I’m fine, I promise, I’m just wishing things were different today.”

“Why today? Is it something special? I can’t seem to remember.”

“It’s Christmas Eve. You were supposed to come to Long Island and meet Jamie. We were going to spend the holiday with his family.”

“Yes, I remember, that’s today? Oh dear, I haven’t gotten your gift yet I’m afraid.”

“That’s fine, Lamb, I’m afraid I left your gift at home, so we’ll have to do that part later. We can take a raincheck on gift exchanging. I was just really looking forward to you getting to know Jamie.”

“I’m sure I’ll meet the lad soon; he seems really special to you.”

“He is; I know you’ll like him.”

“I already do.” He patted the top of her hand and turned his attention back to the sitcom on the television, providing humorous commentary to try to cheer Claire up.

----------

It was late Christmas morning. Uncle Lamb was napping again and Claire had switched the television to the Hallmark Channel--usually her guilty pleasure this season, today it was simply reminding her of how her Christmas was proving to be less than magical. For her there would be no Christmas kisses, no magical snowfall, no saving the small town family business or learning to love Christmas again. All that awaited her this Christmas were fluorescent lights, beeping monitors, and nurses visiting every 6 hours to check her uncle’s vitals. This Christmas would be decidedly the most un-magical she had ever experienced. She had had her share of unconventional Christmases in the past, in fact, she never really was a Christmas person, but it had started to feel special to her when she was living in New York. This Christmas though--this was one she was looking forward to more than ever before. Claire spent most of the morning crying, grieving over all she was missing. She should have spent the morning curled up in Jamie’s arms, watching the children open presents. She could picture the Murray’s living room, trashed with colorful wrapping paper from end to end, each child in their own private world fascinated by their latest favorite toy, Jenny and Ian beaming through tired eyes.

Claire was surprised Jamie hadn’t called her to fill her in on the details yet. He had called yesterday when his plane arrived--groggy and jet-lagged, his communication skills were not the most eloquent, but he tried his best to make her feel better. She hadn’t heard from him at all this morning though, not even a Merry Christmas text. Surely the jet lag would have woken him up as early as the children, and they must have been done opening presents by now. Claire tried to rationalize that Jamie was just spending time with his family, but she couldn’t help feeling hurt and ignored. She thought she was important enough to him that he could take a moment away from his family to at least text her, or to find some way to make her feel included from afar. Had his feelings changed in their months apart? Did coming home to a messy apartment turn him off? Did she find his Christmas gifts and come to think she didn’t care enough to get him something more thoughtful? She thought about calling him, but a mixture of pride and fear kept her from acting first, not to mention she couldn’t stop crying over these sappy Christmas movies.

Suddenly, a voice from the doorway rang through the room, “Ho! Ho! Ho! Merry Christmas!” Claire looked up in confusion, momentarily unable to comprehend her surroundings and the disruption that had just entered them. Santa? No. The tall figure filling the door frame was dressed like Santa, beard and all, but the unmistakable Scottish burr gave away his true identity. If Claire hadn’t already been crying, she certainly was now. Jamie was standing in the doorway, dressed in a Santa suit, carrying a large, blue IKEA bag overflowing with wrapped presents and what appeared to be Christmas decorations.

“What?” Claire could hardly believe he was there, she rose from the chair and the couple met in the middle of the room for a hearty embrace. Claire buried her face in the soft, fluffy suit covering Jamie’s chest, sobbing uncontrollably. Perhaps the setting wasn’t a snow covered street in a small town, but this was her own Hallmark movie moment--and to be honest, those Hallmark guys had nothing on James Alexander Malcolm Mackenzie Fraser. Jamie held her close, and tight, planting kisses in her curls and whispering softly to her.

“I’m here, mo nighean donn.” He caressed her shoulders with his thumbs, not releasing his embrace in the slightest, breathing in her scent, trying to absorb her fears and pain.

All of the commotion had awoken Uncle Lamb and after witnessing the couples’ embrace for longer than was comfortable, Lamb loudly cleared his throat to remind them of his presence in the room.

“Uncle Lamb!” Claire unfolded herself from Jamie’s embrace, keeping one arm around his back. Jamie sheepishly pulled the fake beard down around his neck to reveal his face and removed his Santa hat, clutching it tightly in the palm that wasn’t holding Claire. “This is Jamie, my Jamie. Jamie, this is my Uncle Lamb.”

“Well, I’m certainly glad it’s not Santa Claus, or we’d have a lot of explaining to do to the lad!” Lamb chuckled back.

“A pleasure to finally meet you, sir.” Jamie reluctantly released Claire from his grasp to step beside the bed, extending a firm but gentle hand to Lamb. “I’m sorry it’s not under better circumstances.”

“Pleased to meet you as well, lad” Lamb replied, patting Jamie’s hand with his before releasing their handshake. “And don’t you worry about me, I have the best nurse there is taking care of me.” Two sets of proudly smiling eyes met Claire across the room.

“Oh I dinna doubt it for a second. Your niece is a rare woman.”

“Glad to see we’re in agreement. Now what’s all that?” Lamb gestured towards the large tote discarded near Claire’s feet.

“Aye, I thought I’d bring you two a bit o’ holiday cheer.” Jamie pulled a large cardboard box from the bag and extracted a small tabletop Christmas tree from it, unfurling each branch carefully and placing it on the countertop across the room, plugging it in to reveal fiber optic lights changing colors dreamily. “I usually insist on my Christmas trees being more, well, alive, but under the circumstances this’ll have tae do.” Jamie and Claire spent the next half hour or so festooning the room in garlands and placing tiny ornaments on the small tree. Claire tried to ignore that more than half of the bag was filled with brightly wrapped gifts, not sure whether she was hoping they were all for her, or hoping that they weren’t. After all, she didn’t have anything to give him and she didn’t know if he had looked through his gifts yet nor if he had appreciated them.

While they decorated, Jamie filled Claire and Lamb in on the events of the last few days. Jamie had called Jenny to tell her not to bother picking him up from the airport. He had planned on renting a car there and driving straight to Boston. Claire could hear Jenny’s voice loud and clear through Jamie’s imitation “ya clotheid! Have ya gone daft? Yer barely able to form coherent sentences amidst the jet lag from yer Christmas Eve flight, and ya wanna drive five hours tae Boston in that state!?! Claire willna appreciate ya ending up in a ditch on the side of the road as a Christmas present ya eejit!” Jenny had made a fair point, and Jamie had agreed to sleep at home and left shortly after he awoke that morning, staying only long enough for the children to open their stockings, and to watch their faces alight with surprise at the sudden appearance of piles of presents under and around the tree.

“I’m glad you took Jenny’s advice, but most of all I’m glad you’re here.” She embraced him again. “You didn’t have to do this though, Jamie, I know how important your family is to you.”

Jamie stepped back and lifted Claire’s chin with his thumb, looking into her eyes. “You are important to me, Sassenach.” he replied, with a sincerity that penetrated Claire’s heart. Claire responded by kissing Jamie chastely on the cheek, knowing her uncle was only four feet away--politely trying to ignore them and watch the television which he had flipped to an all-day marathon of A Christmas Story on repeat. Jamie’s welcome intrusion broke up the monotony of hospital life and seemed to give Lamb a better sense of what day it was.

“Now that we’ve got the place looking good and festive, I believe it’s traditional to exchange gifts on Christmas day.”

“Jamie, it’s too much, I--”

“Oh? Thought they were all for you, didja Sassenach?” he teased. Claire blushed. Of course; she hadn’t really--but who else would they be for? Surely Jamie wouldn’t spoil Lamb, a complete stranger to him, quite so much, and no one else was there. She looked dumbfounded as she tried to come up with a defense but Jamie stopped her. “Dinna fash, Sassenach, Jenny wrapped your gifts for me and Lamb before I could see and I bought them along too. She thanks ya for the wee lotions, by the way.”

“God bless Jenny! That woman is a Saint.” Claire also silently thanked God that she had left the present she was planning on wearing for Jamie that evening in her dresser drawer, that was not a gift she wanted Jenny to see, and was definitely not something she wanted him to be opening in front of her uncle.

The three exchanged gifts, save Lamb, who had nothing to give but smiles and approval for the young couples’ thoughtful gifts. Jamie was genuinely appreciative of Claire’s gifts, although she kept insisting that she hadn’t finished shopping and there was more to come; to which Jamie humbly rejected, claiming it wasn’t necessary. Jamie’s gifts to Claire were thoughtful and meaningful, the most touching ones being a print of a painting of the rose garden he had ordered from the Botanic Garden’s gift shop and a bracelet engraved with the words perennis amor, which caused Claire to tear up and embrace him tenderly in spite of her uncle’s presence.

The three enjoyed the rest of the day thoroughly. A Christmas Story played in the background and they laughed and shared stories with one another. Jamie was a born storyteller and Lamb was elated to have a fresh audience to recount his many adventures to, so conversation flowed naturally between them, with Claire occasionally interjecting. Claire mostly just sat back and admired the two men who were most important to her, filled with joy that they were getting along, that Jamie was there, that it was Christmas. For the first time in several days she had hope and peace. She was surrounded by love in that hospital room as well. She had all the things Christmas was said to bring, and for that she was grateful. Jamie had made her greatest Christmas wishes come true without her even asking and she felt lucky to be alive.

The hospital staff served their version of Christmas dinner for the small family, and while Claire was sure it paled in comparison to whatever Jenny had made, it was quite delicious, especially considering it was hospital food. Jamie ate in the armchair next to Lamb at Claire’s insistence, since the two were deep in conversation, and Claire sat in the chair on the other side of Jamie, taking in her magical Christmas scene, better than any Hallmark movie could depict.

After dinner, Jamie was fading fast, listening to one of Lamb’s stories with heavy eyes. She took one of the spare blankets and covered Jamie. “Looks like you’re still not over your jet lag”

“Hrmmphh, I ‘spose not.”

“Do you want me to go get you a coffee? I doubt the cafe downstairs is open today, but there’s a cappuccino vending machine a few floors down that isn’t terrible.”

“Aye Sassenach, that’d be bonny. If it’s not too much trouble.”

“None at all, my love, I’ll be back soon.” Claire squeezed his hand before leaving the two men alone.

Jamie listened to her footsteps down the hall, and waited until he heard the ding of the elevator before he cleared his throat to speak frankly to Lamb. He sat up straight in the chair to ward off the sleepiness, having a few important things he wanted to say before Claire came back.

“Lamb, I need you to know, Claire is the most important person in my life. I love her sae much and I’d do anything for her.”

“I’m glad to hear that, I can see how happy you make her. She lights up when you’re around, it comforts my old heart to see.”

“I need you tae know, I’m very serious about her. I ken we haven’t been together that long, but I know--I know deep in my wame that I’m meant tae be hers. I want ya to know that I intend on spending the rest of my life making her happy, and while I havna bought a ring or ennathing yet, I wanted to ask yer blessing” Jamie paused for a moment before adding, “just in case.”

“Of course you have my blessing, son. I couldn’t be more glad to know that Claire will be so well cared for after I’m gone, truly.” Both men looked somber, knowing full well that this could be their last conversation, hoping dearly that it wasn’t. Claire returned with three cappuccinos in hand, surprised by the mood in the room.

“Everything alright, gentlemen? Don’t tell me Ralphie shot his eye out!”

“Och! Everything’s fine, Claire! I’m just tired is all, I’m sure this wee cappuccino will cure me in no time!” replied Jamie, eagerly taking a cup from Claire as she set another on Lamb’s tray table. The rest of the evening was quiet as Jamie took a nap, while Lamb and Claire watched A Christmas Story more intently then they had all day. Claire didn’t want to leave him alone so early on Christmas so she let Jamie nap until Lamb was asleep soundly for the night. The sense of joy she had felt all day was still present, but the nagging worry she felt about Lamb’s coming surgery was starting to settle in as well. Claire woke Jamie gently and Claire whispered softly to Lamb that they’d return in the morning, squeezing his hand before the couple quietly left the room.

----------

They walked out to Jamie’s car, since he still had his stuff packed in it, but Claire drove them back to Lamb’s apartment where she’d been staying. The cappuccino was helping Jamie stay coherent, but he was in no state to drive. They were quiet on the drive home, but kept their hands locked between the seats, grateful just to be in the presence of one another.

When they arrived at Lamb’s apartment, Jamie was so tired, he didn’t even want to brush his teeth, let alone do any of his usual nightly routines. However, he had spent the morning sweating in a polyester Santa suit over his clothes, and although he took it off shortly after his surprise arrival, he felt in need of a shower. Claire showed him where the bathroom was and made sure he had everything he needed, and got herself ready for bed.

Jamie showered quickly, not bothering to wash his hair, and only cleaning the parts of his body where any stench would be most concentrated, figuring the water would take care of the rest. A few minutes later, he emerged from the bathroom with a towel around his waist, ready to collapse into bed, but not before embracing his sorcha. He scooped her into his embrace and she buried her face in his bare, firm chest, warm from the shower. He smelled clean, and fresh and most of like Jamie. “I’m so happy you’re with me, Jamie. You have no idea how much it means to me that you’re here.” the emotions of the day hit her again and her voice caught at the end of her sentence as tears filled her eyes once again. Jamie kissed her forehead softly, down to her nose, and landed on her lips, giving her the firm, passionate kiss they’d both been longing for all day--and for months before that.

“Mo cridhe.” Jamie breathed when they separated. “I’m here. I’ll always be here for you. I’ll no’ leave you alone when ya need me.”

“Oh Jamie” Claire was still crying, “I’ve been so worried. I’ve been trying to stay strong for Lamb, but I feel like this won’t go back to normal--if there ever was a normal with him. I’m scared he’s going to get worse, or--” her sentence dissolved into a fit of sobs, which she tried to stifle on Jamie’s shoulder.

“You don’t have to stay strong when you’re with me. I’ll be here to help you shoulder the burden. I’ll be here to soak up your tears. There’s two of us now, Claire.” He pressed a kiss into her curls. “You can feel your feelings now, mo cridhe. Lay your cares on me. Come now, let’s get ya tae bed. I’m no’ sure how much longer I can stand myself.”

Claire fell asleep wrapped safely in Jamie’s embrace, free to be herself fully. Free to be vulnerable she felt safe, she felt loved, she felt comfortable, and most new to her--she felt she had the hope and strength that she could carry on, no matter what was to come. She slept better than she had in weeks, secure in the embrace of her eternal love.

End Notes: Thanks again for reading!! By the way, the Ingrid Michaelson song Jo mentions is hauntingly beautiful and you should listen to it. Also, I hope you liked Jamie's surprise. This was going to be a lot more angsty of a chapter but Jamie refused to let Claire suffer and had other plans. I know this was full of a lot of emotional ups and downs, and hopefully we can all find some comfort in the fact that just because Christmas/the holidays may look different for a lot of us this year, it can still be special, and there's still light, joy, love, hope, and peace to be found in the midst of the darkness.

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raslolin · 3 years

Text

۞𖣔 𝗍𝗐𝗈 𖣔۞

Silva walked through the hallway silently with his footsteps while holding the lightweight box in his hand.

No matter what's happening in the manor right now he doesn't care.

Even when his partner was calling for help.

The more he walked the louder Kikyo's scream is.

'Listening to her screeching is like satan propose her a marriage by torture.'

Thinking back about what Kikyo said and how she behaved.

Kikyo screams to his face to his back for a week after his son's runaway.

"Killua just ran away! At least do something instead of watching he ran off!"

"The hell were kind of thoughts are in your mind that time do something! Tell me at least!!"

"THIS IS DISAPPOINTING!"

"Hunter exam!? What is he doing there."

"WHAT?! There's for fun!?! What kind of-"

He shuts his mind off about his wife it seems to make him less stressful for now.

'About Killua.. Illumi will deal with him.'

'This will get more and more annoying..'

Narrowing his eyes slightly as he reached the outside in seconds.

'Time to visit.'

He feels the book was the main problem of it all when in reality it's the opposite.

'This must be solve.'

Zeno fastly reach for the knob of the library door slammed it open as the butlers followed him inside.

To the butlers horrified expressions, he know it's time for him to step out and never mind about this business again or maybe just get out of this household full of nothing but his daughter in-law screams.

Ready to walk out of the library he stops.

'In the end I can't avoid it.'

Signing to himself he turned to the staffs and ordered them out.

"All of you get out."

His raspy voice were filled with nothing but dissatisfaction, disappointment and the irritation he's feeling began bubbling inside his body faintly.

After all of them out of room he waited and waited.

'Where's Milluki? I heard him I'm sure..'

"Mama!"

Milluki arrived with sweats and breaths hitching every seconds his eyes still on the ground.

It took a minute to bring himself back together again. His eyes widened in surprise.

"She's dead."

His grandfather said his face still the same as ever.

"What do you mean grandpa? Mama's still breathing."

Milluki's voice sounds relieved after he saw his mother's body twitching for help.

Silva's now arrive in front of the destination he supposed to be visit two time years ago.

Ready to knock on the door only for the door itself opened by a mere maid.

"Master is expecting you mister Zoldyck."

Without anymore words the maid leads him to the beautifully decorated detail wooden door.

Hands up to knock on the door.

*Knock*

No answer.

He knocked again three times louder.

Still no answer.

Without hesitation he opened the door only to find a grey haired man sitting in the chair facing his way to the door.

"Why didn't you open the door?"

Silva asked clearly still confused and not used to his friend's weird behavior.

"Why? Well if you came here before marry that hysterical unstable bitch everything would go fine!"

"That golden child of yours won't runaway from home if you were here six years ago but.. something important must be an exchange for an unfit able heir."

The man slowly whisper the last part quietly that Silva can't make out other than his stupid endless rumbling insults for the pale blonde hair's man.

'He needs to stop saying this.'

Sighed to himself disappointingly seeing his old friend look interest or with suspicions to the object in his hand.

"That's what you want me to talk about?"

The grey hair man stood up from his chair walked past him only to lock the door behind Silva.

In the blink of his eyes only to see his friend sat on the same chair again with another chair on the opposite side of the table.

Walked up to the another side of the table by his large two steps pulled the chair out and sit.

"Have you had any breakfast yet?"

"No.."

"Great you god damn son of a bitch!"

"..."

"And tell your wife to learn her manners about getting into people business and being persistent."

"Of course."

"Let's have some breakfast first before we get to the point."

His friend whose seemed happy after leashed out his raged to him for not teaching his wife step out of the line.

Silva could only nod in agreement hoping his friend wouldn't talk about much he himself made wrong choices in his life.

A needle man face who's running at steady speed in the boring looking group of people.

The sounds of the man's phone ringing loud enough only for his ears, as the crown he's in spilt up suddenly.

What a luck he has today! The perfect time to report as he feels the vibration of his phone ringing once more.

He slows down his running as examiners in front of him all vanished to the air.

Leaving him and the other boring looking examine who looks ready to give up on everything.

Pulled out a needle from his ear suddenly appears in front of the young girl who barely feels her surroundings.

'Perfect around my height.'

Pierced a needle on her head as he speed up taking out all of his needles around her neck to her whole face.

"Follow the examiner-"

"Oh! And use the radio when you're near the destination act your best behavior."

Throw the radio at the zombie like pose person as she catch it.

The disguise girl who walked like a zombie slowly developed to humanly robotic running.

He walked to the other side of the forest find a perfectly spot for a private talking in the trees.

Pulled his phone from pants pocket he push the round button accepting his family's member call.

"Hello?"

"Oh finally you answered!"

"You do know where I am right now. What is it?"

"Uhh we need you to be here as soon as possible after the exam."

"That's doesn't matter after the exam I have business to go."

"Well forgot about your business with that annoying clown or with the brat, mama's not in good shape however it's like god's favor her a miracle she's survived."

"Of course Killua went too far with her than you."

"That's not what I meant, her neck literally twisted to the other side and still breathing."

"What do you mean mother's neck was distorted but she's still alive?"

The monotone voice were hinted with confusion.

"That's what I mean. I don't know how she's alive either-"

His younger brother voice filled with fascination.

'Mother's not in good shape, Milluki shouldn't be thinking about that cartoon show he always watch and compare the situation with it.'

Frowning to himself dissatisfaction clearly showed what kind of emotions he felt.

Before he open his mouth tell his brother to get straight to the point.

"And don't worry she's in good hands."

The sounds of the younger one voice now filled with relief.

"Really? Thank god, tell me more."

"Well yes while mama's screeching were covering someone's chanting."

"Chant?"

"Yeah, grandpapa said it was like echoing the hallway if it's possible the whole mountain could hear it."

"Then?"

"Then- uhh I can't tell you because I don't know. I meant we don't know and after the exam we need you to be here."

"What's the hurry?"

"I don't know okay! At least act like the brat is now your second priority that's dad's order!"

"Of course if what that's father says so, anything more?"

"Grandpa said it himself and he said he heard me shouting before I'm at the library. He said my voice were either inside the library or outside but not too far from the room and I can't shout too loud or my throat gonna be sore."

The younger sibling spoke fast but enough at least for him to catch on.

"After Gotoh investigated the others it seems only everyone's heard my shout not what grandpapa heard."

"You know father said to not believe in what grandfather says."

"I do. What about Killua?"

"He's fine."

"Okay."

The call between two eldest siblings ended.

'Oh I forgot to asked about father. But from Milluki's voice I think it's enough.'

'If it more possible instead of what something unbelievable like a woman who dressed in laced as they say. It's just illusion but what if it's not? There's proofs especially the ones that had been confirmed by Nen-users and science.'

'The time Killua ran from home I wasn't there.. From what I heard the wounds are deep enough but he only managed to hurt her face. Killu's height are not enough to reach her face probably her neck and chest.'

He then took a deep breath long enough to relax his body after the news he had been informed too.

'I wasn't informed correctly am I? I'm sure I am. The butlers aren't stupid enough to break any rules. If her neck twist to the other side but instead like almost cutting down a tree and Milluki always use words that's not fitting the meaning when he's angry.'

'As much as I remembered grandfather conversion between chairman's Netero...'

'Looks like it's something more important than Killua. Impossible. Unbelievable.'

'If he knows Nen before mother could've die.. and possibly Milluki too. A double edged sword situation.'

Lean on the tree he's been standing for almost 10 minutes letting out a hot breath from his mouth.

"This is troublesome than I thought."

"Hm~"

His attentions is now on the bright pink haired man who just carried the other man on his shoulder steadily.

'Killua's friends? Not good.'

"Looks like your house is full of problems now ❤︎ "

The clown magician whose now full of joy seeing his motionless friend struggles.

"Do you need any help, Illumi?"

The bright pink hair man chuckles loudly.

"Can you not interfere my business?"

"Well I can't help it when you talked about that."

Sounds of multiple footsteps past them quickly, Illumi took it as a sign to give himself privacy somewhere else.

"Hisoka, we will talk about that later private matters."

With that the jet black hair man gone only to find him running in the crowd of examiners blending perfectly.

"Okay~"

'Time to pick new toys ❤︎ '

Hisoka looks up the sky only to find the weird cloud shapes display to his own golden eyes.

He pulls out a card from his pocket pants flip the card pattern side to his eyes.

The beautiful pink pattern make him feel at ease like it always was in the past.

Slowly life his hand up to sky challenging himself by keeping the card's pattern blind his sights.

As his arm reached it's limit stretch he flipped the card symbol side to his view.

'Hearts?'

Slowly slide the card to the other side of his view comparison seeing the shape hearted cloud in white to black colored that's above him everywhere he stands.

'Will it be other shape next time I wonder..'

A card were sent to his way fastly but not fast enough to hurt him.

'Someone's watching!'

'First time every been attacked by a card..'

'But who would use it as a weapon against me?'

He pull the card that's stuck in the tree he’s leaning on.

"Oopsie~! almost hurt you ❤︎"

He glanced at the unconscious glasses man whose on his shoulder.

"But-! You're not important that much right now ♠︎ "

Pull out the card by his hand that support his arm holding the small glasses young adult.

Throw the beautiful pattern card to his other hand's up to the sky.

Much to his expectations eyes widened in shock.

A person wearing a lacy card symbols dress swaying on the swing happily.

The ropes that's on both of person hands are torn suddenly by pulling down the forced to the ground.

Gender of the person fastly revealed as the cloth from her head can't keep up sensitivity falling from the sky.

There's no scream of panicking. No laughing. No crying. Nothing just nothing.

As the woman falling now nearing Hisoka she's use her two hands cover his eyes before her head smashed to the soft grass ground.

*TNGH!!!*

𝙶𝚘 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔? 𝚈𝚎𝚜 𝙾𝚛 𝙽𝚎𝚡𝚝? 𝚈𝚎𝚜

#hxh x reader #hunter x hunter x reader #yandere hxh #yandere hunter x hunter

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it-fits-i-ships · 3 years

Text

I took inspiration from a post by @the-stove-is-on-fire and wrote this oneshot (below the read more link) about an AU in which Spideypool adopts Danny and Jazz Fenton and the sheer chaotic energy of Danny and Wade’s dynamic threatens to drive Peter insane. Just in time for Trans Day Of Visibility too!

Danny Fenton sat next to Great Aunt May on one of the plush blue couches in the living room. Wade, who sat on the far side of the couch, had wanted to get leather seating but Peter, who sat between Wade and Danny, had insisted on inventing a new stain-proof fabric because Wade couldn’t be trusted not to make a mess. On the other couch were Jazz, Grandma Pepper, Aunt Morgan, and Grandpa Tony, who was lifting a wrapped box toward Danny.

“Happy birthday, kiddo!” he said.

“Thanks, Grandpa!” Danny said, eagerly ripping open the paper to see what treasures lay within, “Oh awesome! I’ve been wanting to play this game forever! I didn’t even think it was out yet!”

“It’s not,” Grandpa Tony said, “I pulled some strings.”

“You’re the best!”

“There’s one more thing,” Grandpa Tony said, pointing toward the box.

Danny dug further into the tissue paper.

“A key?” Danny asked.

“It’s a key to your birthparents’ house,” Grandpa Tony said, “They were good friends of mine and when they died I bought their house and maintain it so you and Jazz could go there when you were old enough,” he paused and looked around at Peter, Wade, and Jazz, “I already talked it over with your dads and Jazz and we figure since you’re 14 now it’s time to give you the option to go there.”

He looked between Grandpa Tony and his dads, then at Jazz.

“Have you gone there yet?” Danny asked.

“No, I wanted to wait until we could go together,” she said.

“Can I have some time to think about it?”

Peter placed a hand gently on Danny’s shoulder.

“Of course, son, take all the time you need,” he said.

That night, after the party was over and the guests had gone home, Danny lay staring up at the ceiling. His thoughts raced around in his skull like the spinning blades of his ceiling fan so that just when he thought he had caught one long enough to get a good look at it he would find it had flown from his grasp. Of course Danny had known he and Jazz were adopted. Peter and Wade had been very upfront about that. They had also made sure Jazz and Danny knew they were loved and wanted. Danny would be lying if he said he had never been curious about his birth parents. He didn’t know or remember much about them, and some part of him had always wondered where he’d come from, but Peter and Wade had been so good to them he never really felt like he had been lacking for anything.

When Danny was 10 he came out as trans and they had immediately put him on puberty blockers, switched to his new name and pronouns, and gotten him a haircut. Peter and Wade had never cared about clothing so even when Danny was young they had let him pick out “boy” clothes, which meant he didn’t have to get a new wardrobe when he came out. Jazz and their dads had Danny’s back during his social transition, correcting people when they used the wrong name or pronouns and defending him when people tried to tell him he was just going through a phase. Danny really couldn’t have asked for a better upbringing. So do I really need to know more about my birth parents? He thought.

Just then, he heard a soft knock at his door. He turned to see Jazz standing in the hall outside his room.

“Hey,” she said, “Can I come in?”

“Sure,” he said, sitting up against his pillows.

“How are you doing?”

“Just trying to process.”

“I get that,” Jazz said, “It took me a while to wrap my head around the fact that our birth parents’ house is still intact, that we can actually go there and find out about them.”

“Do you remember them?” Danny asked.

“Not much,” she said, “I was only 4 when they died. I think they wore jumpsuits a lot?”

“Jumpsuits?”

Jazz shrugged.

“It was 12 years ago, I could be misremembering.”

“I don’t know if I want to go, Jazz,” Danny admitted, “Part of me wants to find out more about them but we already have parents, you know?”

Jazz sat down on the edge of the bed.

“Listen, Danny,” she said, “I’m not going to tell you what to do or how to feel. If you decide you don’t want to go to the house I’m not going to make you, and neither are Peter or Wade. This is your call. I want to go eventually and if you want to go then we’ll go together but if you don’t that’s okay too. I can always go with Peter or Grandpa Tony,” she paused and pulled him into a big hug, “Take some time to think it over so you make the right choice for you and then let me know what you decide when you’re ready.”

“Thanks, Jazz,” Danny said, leaning in return his sister’s hug.

“Any time,” she said, standing up, “I’m going to bed. Make sure you get some rest too, birthday boy.”

Danny nodded absentmindedly.

“Goodnight,” he said.

“Goodnight!”

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Danny stood, key in hand, in front of a house that simultaneously felt vaguely familiar and vastly alien to him. There was a large bunch of tech on top of the house that looked like some kind of UFO and a huge light-up sign that read “Fenton Works.” Who the hell were these people? Danny thought. After a few agonizing weeks he had decided to come learn what he could about his birth parents and Peter had agreed to drive them to the old Fenton residence. He didn’t break his gaze from the house as he felt Jazz take his free hand in hers.

“Are you ready?” she asked.

“As I’ll ever be,” he said, stepping up to put the key in the door.

The three of them walked into the living room, which Danny immediately noticed had purple walls. On the far wall was an opening to a bright green kitchen.

“Wow,” Jazz said, “They had some, uh, interesting tastes in interior design.”

“What until you see the lab in the basement,” Peter said.

“The WHAT?!” Danny and Jazz said in unison.

“Why is everyone in our lives some kind of scientist or science experiment?” Jazz asked.

“Or both, in Grandpa Tony’s case,” Danny added.

Peter shrugged.

“Just lucky, I guess.”

“What did they even do here?” Danny asked.

“They were inventors. They used their tech to hunt ghosts,” Peter said.

“Ghosts?” Jazz said incredulously, “Really?”

Peter nodded.

“So they were crazy,” she said.

“They preferred to be called ‘misunderstood geniuses.’”

“Sure, geniuses on a mission to catch Casper.”

“Jazz,” Danny interjected, “Our dads have super powers, Wade is constantly breaking the laws of physics, Grandpa Tony has personally met aliens and deities, and you’re hung up on ghosts?”

Jazz raised her finger and opened her mouth as if to counter his argument but then, seeming to think better of it, she lowered her hand and closed her mouth as an annoyed look overtook her face.

“Let’s look around some more,” she said.

“Can I go down to the lab?” Danny asked.

“I want to look up here first,” Jazz said.

“Can I go look around by myself, Dad?” Danny asked, turning on his saddest puppy eyes.

“Okay, okay,” Peter said, “Just be careful. Don’t touch anything and put on one of the jumpsuits so you don’t accidentally get anything on your clothes.”

“Awesome!” Danny said, already searching for the staircase to the basement.

He quickly found it, descended into the drab gray laboratory, and slipped into one of the jumpsuits hanging on the wall as per Peter’s request. The lab was lined with consoles that had glowing panels and various buttons and switches, counters and tables covered with all kinds of lab equipment from microscopes to complicated networks of flasks and tubes, and a very cluttered work desk covered in noted, equations, and diagrams but the thing that really caught Danny’s attention was the massive metal archway on the far side of the room. It sat open and he squinted to try and make out what was inside. It appeared to be the entrance to some sort of tunnel. Couldn’t hurt to take a closer look, he thought.

Carefully, Danny crept into the dark tunnel. He could hardly see anything in the dim light. What the hell is this thing? He thought as he walked distractedly forward with his hands out in front of him. Before he could contemplate the structure further, his outstretched hand ran right into something small and round. The thing gave a click, a pit forming in Danny’s stomach as the tunnel lit up like the 4th of July with swirling green shapes he couldn’t identify. The light seemed to pass right through him and he felt as much as heard the scream that ripped from his chest as every atom of his being burned.

The next thing he knew he was on the floor outside the tunnel. He awoke to someone shaking him by the shoulders.

“Danny!” Jazz cried frantically, “Danny, please get up!”

He sat up slowly and clutched his aching head with a groan, only to give another when Jazz threw her arms tightly around him and forced the air out of his lungs.

“I thought you were dead,” she said.

“What happened?” Danny managed.

“I don’t know, kiddo,” Peter said, “But you might want to look in a mirror.”

“What?”

Peter and Jazz hoisted Danny up so he could see his reflection on the shiny glass screen of a large monitor on the wall. Oh shit. His hair had turned a stark white and his once blue eyes were glowing the same radioactive green that had filled the tunnel before he had lost consciousness. What the fuck? He thought, his panic rising exponentially as he leaned on the monitor with one hand to get a better look at himself. Suddenly, he was falling forward and his face smacked into the glass.

“Danny!” Jazz called.

“Are you okay?” Peter asked, reaching out to steady his son.

“I think s–”

His train of thought was completely derailed by the sight of his forearm, or lack thereof. He wiggled his fingers and clinched his fist. He could still feel his hand. Is my arm…invisible? He thought.

“Danny,” Peter said gently, “I think your panicking is making things worse. Look right at me,” he paused as he oriented Danny’s shoulders so they were facing each other, “And a take a deep, slow breath. In through the nose, out through the mouth,” he paused to demonstrate the technique and waited for Danny to copy him, “Good, one more time,” he paused for Danny’s breath, “Remember when you were 5 and Aunt May asked you to help her pick a puppy?” he asked.

“Yeah?” Danny said, torquing his eyebrows in confusion.

“There were so many,” Peter continued, “How did you know you picked the right one?”

“Donut was the only one who came up to give both of us kisses,” Danny said, “And he fell asleep in my lap. I thought he seemed like a good dog for Aunt May.”

As Danny thought back to that childhood memory he felt a strange tingling all over his body, like everything was shifting ever so slightly. He looked down and he could see his arm again. He snapped his head up to look back into the glass monitor, where his reflection showed his natural black hair and blue eyes.

“I’m back to normal!” he said, “How did you know that would work, Dad?”

“I freaked out really hard when I first got my powers. I ended up stuck to a wall with no idea how to get down. It wasn’t until I took a second to calm down that I was able to unstick myself. I figured it might be something similar with whatever that was,” Peter said.

“Do you think that’ll happen again?” Danny asked.

“Probably,” Peter admitted, “But for now I think we’ve all had enough excitement and we should head home. I’ll bring you kids back here later if you want,” he paused and looked directly at Danny, “With thorough supervision, of course.”

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Danny held his head in his hands, quite literally. He had finally mastered the trick where he could stretch an invisible bit of his body from his neck to the base of his head so it looked like his head was no longer attached. His two years of training had really paid off. Peter and Wade, and even Jazz, had helped him master his powers but he had been cooking this one up in secret for the express purpose of ghostly shenanigans. Jazz was away at college and Peter was still out for the day. Which means my first victim is –

“Hey, Danny,” Wade’s voice came around the corner as he approached the living room, “Did you eat the last pudding cup?”

“Maybe.”

“Bruh! I totally called dibs on that o–” Wade paused, taking in the scene before him, “Danny, what the fuck happened to your head?! Ugh! Peter’s gonna kill me!” he added.

Danny stuck out his tongue.

“I’m fine, just a little,” here he paused to toss his head into the air, “Lightheaded!”

“You little shit, that was beautiful!” Wade said, pulling a small throwing knife seemingly out of nowhere and chucking it at Danny.

“Dad, what the hell?”

“I’m not ‘Dad,’ I’m Deadpool! I’m here to eat pudding and throw knives,” he paused, lowering his voice, “And I’m all out of pudding.”

He threw a barrage of knives at Danny, who nimbly dodged the projectiles and lobbed a pillow from the couch right at Wade’s face. Each knife lodged itself into a different part of the couch as Danny fired off multiple blasts of ghost fire.

“Hey, Siri, play the Ghost Busters theme. I’m going hunting,” Wade said, brandishing the pillow and another knife at Danny.

Just then, they heard the front door open.

“Hey, sorry I’m late,” came Peter’s voice, “There was a thing I had to take care of on the way home –”

He froze at the sight of his husband and son sparring in the living room, his handful of groceries seemingly forgotten.

“Danny started it!” Wade said quickly.

“Deadpool, you fucking snitch!” Danny called, pointing an accusatory finger at Wade.

“Language!” Peter said.

“Yeah, Danny, watch your fucking language,” Wade said, giggling under his breath.

“Wade!”

“What?”

Peter sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose in a circular motion.

“All right,” he said quietly to himself, “So the new couches need to be stain-proof, knife-proof, and fire-proof. You two are in charge of putting the groceries away.”

“Did you get more pudding cups?” Wade asked hopefully.

Peter looked him dead in the eyes as he extracted two packages of pudding cups from one of the bags and tucked them under his arm.

“No,” he said, “Now go put this stuff away and clean up this mess,” he added, gesturing toward the living room.

He turned and headed, pudding still in tow, to his study.

Wade wiped away a single tear as the pudding vanished from sight.

“Oof,” said Danny.

#spideypool #spider man #deadpool #dannyphantom #myfic

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jung-snoopy-woo · 4 years

Text

How I met Your Grandfather

~ Introduction + Chapter 1 ~

(I know the name is super lame but omg I didn't know how to name it 😂😭)

Other Chapters: Masterlist | 2 |3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 (coming soon!!)

Pairing: Bang Chan × reader, twin brother! Felix.

Genre: fluff (maybe some angst?).

Word count: 802 (without the strike-throughed stuff at the end)

Warnings: none, except from the fact English is not my native language so I probably made some grammar mistakes (oh, and there's a mentioning of the things that inspired me, at the end).

Summary: Moving to a different country is not easy. Your twin brother, Felix, invites his 7 new friends home and one of them caught your eye. What if you also caught his?

About the story: My grandmother always tells me the story of how she met my grandfather (who unfortunately passed away a year before I was born), so I decided to write a Bang Chan fanfic based on their love story.

Gif credits: ~ Stay_Hyunjin ~ via Pinterest (Chan+Felix gif), stray kids_incorrect_quotes via Pinterest (Chan's gif at the end), @jeongsungs via tumblr (Felix's gif at the end).

A/N: This is my first ever fanfic (unless you count the Christian Collins one I wrote when I was like 14.. but yeah we don't talk about that), so I'd be so grateful if I could get some honest opinions!

Hope you enjoy it!! ❤️❤️❤️

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Introduction

"It all started with a good friendship. It wasn't even my friendship, though", you said, smiling as you turned to face your 10-year-old granddaughter. "But you know, all love stories must start from something..."

She looked at you with her big eyes, waiting to hear about him again. "Grandma, I know you told me this story last week but I think I forgot most of it. Please, can you tell me everything from the beginning?".

"Oh, my darling, it's okay... I'd love to tell you this story as many times as you want. It's so nice reminding myself how happy and simple things were at the time..."

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Chapter 1

"Uhmmm Felix, what are you doing??", You giggled as you saw your twin brother moving back and forth around the house, cleaning and putting stuff in place. "Never in my life have I thought I'd see you doing anything other than playing video games all day..."

Felix rolled his eyes at you as he placed a book (which was under the sofa for some reason) on the shelf. "Y/N, I have no time for your judgement! My friends are coming in like 4 hours, but our house is A MESS and I haven't even started making the chocolate-chips cookies yet. So if you're done laughing at me, I'd really appreciate some help"

As much as you wanted to tell him to go ask Rachael or Olivia, your other sisters, for help- you decided to help him eventually, as you saw how excited he was and how much he wanted to make a good impression on his new friends (and it had nothing to do with how your mother threatened to kick you out of the house if you wouldn't help lol)

After you two finished cleaning everything (and Felix's cookies turned out great, as always), you sat on the sofa and waited for his friends to come. You've never met them, but you heard from Lix a lot about them, like the fact that they're working together and that they're his first group of friends since you and your family moved from Australia to Korea. You were super happy for him that he got to meet such good friends despite the fact he didn't know more than a few phrases in Korean like 2 years ago.

The doorbell rang and Felix ran to the door and opened it. You smiled, thinking about how cute your brother was sometimes (when he didn't take your stuff or made a mess in the kitchen or--)

"Oi Felix!! Nice seeing you, bro!! Your house looks so nice, I hope you didn't clean it just for us!", you heard one of the boys say in English.. wait, was that an Australian accent?? Then this must be Chris.

As I said, you've heard so much about these guys, but with Chris it was a a bit more than that. Felix told you he was the one who helped him the most, and understood exactly what he was going through as he, too, moved from Australia to this place, which was so different and new for him.

You heard Felix chuckling nervously as he closed the door behind the tallest guy who had nice long blond hair (you were 99% sure his name was Hyunjin), and you held back a smile, thinking of how exhausted he looked just a few minutes ago.

"Is this your sister on the sofa? She's really pretty", You heard one of them whisper in Korean. You saw it was.. what was his name again? "Ji" something.. oh oh oh, Jisung, right.

"Yeah it's her, but don't even think about it", Felix whispered back jokingly. Then he raised his voice as if nothing happened, "guys, I want you to meet my sister, Y/N. My twin sister actually... You'll probably meet the rest of our family when dinner's ready".

"Oh, so you're Y/N!", Chris said (oh my god how you missed hearing people talk in this accent) as he smiled. He had broad shoulders, dark fluffy brown hair, chocolate eyes and the cutest dimple you've ever seen. "Lix told us so much about you!"

"Oh, did he?", You turned to Felix who mouthed 'I only said good things'. "Well, I heard so much about you guys too, so it's nice to finally meet you all!"

"Dinner's ready!!!", You heard Rachel call. They all seemed way too happy to hear these 2 words, and Jeongin (of course you knew our baby's name) said "I was so hungry, you guys should thank me for not eating all the cookies Felix baked.."

These guys were so fun to be around, you didn't even notice how bright your smile was and how shiny your pretty eyes got. And you especially didn't notice the brown-eyed, curly-haired, prettiest-dimple-in-the-world guy staring at you since the moment he entered the door...

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(The inspiration: both my grandma and my grandpa actually moved from Tunisia to Israel, but they met only after her brother became friends with my grandpa.

Before her brother's friends came to visit, he told her family one of the friends he made from work also came from Tunisia. Then, when his friends finally came- she actually recognized him by his accent and his last name, which is very Tunisian).

So that's the end of the first chapter!! 🥳🥳

It was more like the beginning so there isn't much romance yet but I hope you guys will stay with me for the next chapters! 🙃🙃

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purplekiwis · 4 years

Text

“From the Dining Table” - Chapter I

Hello everyone, I’ve been enjoying reading your fics a lot, especially now with the whole quarentine thing, they never fail to bring me joy. I thought it would be fun to start writing some myself and that’s why I created this blog. I haven’t written a fic in over 10 years ( I promise I’m not that old, I was just a very imaginative child.) Anyway, I wrote this one based of a dream I had and then I realized it reminded me a lot of Harry’s song, so I just kept on going with the theme. This is a pretty long one, it’s going to be 3 Chapters. Today I’m gonna post the first one, I hope you (whoever you are that’s reading this) enjoy it and I would be super happy to get any feedback from you.❤️

You can read Chapter II here You can read Chapter III here Word Count: 8k Warnings: Angst, Cursing, Sexual References

Summary: Friends to Lovers; Y/N is a graphic designer working at a small studio in London. She lives a pretty ordinary life, considering she also happens to be friends with an internationally known musician. Which is fine... Until she finds herself having to face the feelings she developed for her friend, who's the last person she expected to fall in love with.

Chapter I - The House Party

Today was just another typical Saturday for you. You had just got out of the shower and dressed in your “sleeping clothes” - an old t-Shirt and a pair of incredibly worn out leggings, and cooked something quick for dinner, since all the plans you had for the evening, and for the rest of the weekend were to lay around the house watching movies from your watch-list and trying to keep up with the episodes of your favorite series you had missed out during the week.

However, as you were browsing through your computer, trying to figure out what Riverdale episode you hadn’t watched yet, your phone vibrated on the bedside table. You let your head fall in your hands with a weary expression, fearing that it might be one of your clients asking for changes in the work you had just delivered 2 hours ago. You tried your hardest to ignore it, for you had already decided that you were going to save the rest of the afternoon for taking care of yourself... which was a great accomplishment since you gradually and accidentally had become a bit of a workaholic.

It wasn’t something you were proud of... but you were a proper adult now and that’s just how adultwood is. Suddenly all your friends were busy with their families (can’t relate), their partners (no, can’t relate either) and their jobs (yes, you had one of those now) and you didn’t have much else to keep you entertained, so at least you tried to do something productive with your time.

Okay, maybe it was possible that you were focusing on work to try not to think about how lonely you actually felt... Especially when you found yourself rubbing your own aching back after spending the whole afternoon sitting at your desk immersed in your work. Secretly wishing somebody else was there with you besides the faces painted in the unfinished artworks laying around your flat... that were yet to be amazing pieces of art one day, according to you.

The only problem was that you couldn’t manage to get yourself to actually finish them, or even to work on them for a couple of hours. Why? You didn’t really know.

All you knew was that there was no motivaton within you to focus on the things you had once really enjoyed doing. Maybe you were too tired to have a hobby, maybe you were already over those artworks, perhaps you didn’t even like painting anymore...

The only thing that you knew for sure of was that you had became exactly who you said you would never: A young adult working for a small company with barely any social life, let alone a stable relationship, sharing a tiny apartment with her cat and the ghosts of her past dreams and aspirations. So I guess by now it’s safe to say that you were definitely focusing on your work to forget about how boring your life had become in the last few months... Even thought you really didn’t want to look at your phone, your curiosity got a hold of you and you checked it… Only to find a text from your friend Harry. Seeing his name on your phone made your heart skip a beat, as you rolled around in bed so that you could take a better look at it. It had been a while since you spoke to Harry... mostly because he had been busy, and you had been trying to avoid bothering him. Knowing damn well he would probably much rather spend his free time doing something better with his free time, since he was always busy as a bee, jumping between countries and cities whilst working on several projects simultaneously.

You considered Harry a close friend of yours... even if you didn’t talk all the time and even ghosted each other for months on occasion, until one of you broke the silence with a text or a phone call. This time, it was Harry that texted you first...

HS: What are you up to?

You: I was just about to watch Riverdale...

H.S: What is that?

You couldn’t help but to let out a little smile. Sometimes he could still surprise you with how alienated he could be from mundane stuff. You didn’t hold it against him, you knew he had a preference for oldies when it came to the movies and music he actually payed attention to.

You decided not to bug him about it, since you were far more interested in figuring out why he was randomly texting you at 9PM on a Saturday.

You : It’s just a gross teen show. What about you?

H.S: Aren’t you a bit too old for teen shows? I’m home. Been here for a couple of days, actually.

You felt a little hurt knowing that he had been home for a while and was only letting you know now, since you were usually one of the first people he wanted to see after spending long periods of time away, even if it was just to come watch the telly and catch up over bags of take-away food. You shook off the uneasy feeling. After all it wasn’t like he owed you his free time... For all you knew, he could’ve been catching up with his other friends or even have someone far more entertaining over his house.

You : Aren’t you a bit too young to be such a grandpa?

H.S : Good news is that grandpa might actually have better plans for your night.

You felt your cheeks warm as a fuzzy feeling started in your stomach. You noticed you had been smiling at your phone whilst thinking of what his plans could be, and when you finally got back to reality your cat was blankely staring at you, making you feel aware of how stupid you must have been looking. “What? You know it’s not like that!” You exclaimed to your cat, getting a little embarassed by your own mushy thoughts.

Before you could answer his text he sent you another one.

H.S: Would you like to accompany me to this thing i have? You sat straight in your bed, but almost immidiately got up to check yourself in the mirror. Yikes, you thought. There’s no way i’m going anywhere with a face like this... In the deepest, darkest part of your brain, you added: Especially not with him. You: What thing?

H.S: It’s just a boring house party. Please come!!! I need someone to talk to.

You: If you want to convince me, maybe you should consider rethinking your use of adjectives. I’m sure you do... just like all the other parties, right? 🙄

H.S: Sorry, I meant AMAZING party!!! 😊 Also, it’s not my fault everyone likes to talk to me. You : It is. You’re too nice to them.

H.S: That’s why i need you to scare them away with your moody face! Are you coming? I already asked Claire to save you seat in the car.

You looked at yourself in the mirror, kinda wishing you had known earlier because you really looked and felt too tired (and ugly, might you add) to get out of the house. Especially to go to a party where you probably knew like, 3 people in real life besides Harry. Besides, you already knew that you would feel a bit out of place there... Because no matter how hard Harry and his friends tried to make you feel included, there was always this feeling you felt... Like everyone else was judging every single thing you did. The clothes you were wearing, the way you acted with your friends, how much booze you drinked, how many crab cakes you ate, and even how much you talked, or didn’t talk... Going to these parties had undoubtedly showed you how cold and indifferent people could be about other people’s complete existence as soon as they realized they didn’t come from the entertainment industry... Harry had tried to explain to you that they didn’t flat out dislike you... It was just that they liked to test the waters before jumping into a friendship with someone from outside the industry, since most of them had already been through bad experiences when it came to that topic.

Y/N had never really ate that one up, but she decided it wasn’t worth the fuss of sharing her opinion out loud. She still remebered the first event she attended to with Harry, and how he and his friends had tried to give her advise on what she should and shouldn’t do... Something she hadn’t taken very well at the time, because it wasn’t like she didn’t know how to behave herself at a party just for being considered an “outsider”. She had been to lots of parties. Smaller ones, yes. With cheaper beverage options and far unhealthier selections of finger foods she could nibble guiltlessly on, but they were still parties nonetheless...

Luckily for you, people were starting to get used to your occasional presence at their informal house events, and you managed to get along with the majority of Harry’s mates as well, what made you feel a little more confortable... However you still always got a bit nervous before going, especially when you hadn’t seen everyone in a while, which was the case that time around...

You : I feel like i could fall asleep at any given moment, so i think i’ll have to pass this one out 😔 but maybe tomorrow we could do something?

He took a while to reply, making you wonder if he got upset at you for not wanting to go, or if he was already asking another one of his friends if they would like to go in your place... You didn’t know what option you liked the best. Eventually, you got tired of holding your phone so you put it down, a little too harshly, what made your cat tremble with the noise. “Sorry Tilly.” You whispered, as your pet got up and curled up in your lap, while you petted her gently behind her ears. “Maybe it’s better this way… right?” You asked, mostly to yourself.

Suddently you heard your phone ringing. Harry was calling you. You got up in a jump and grabbed the phone, what led to an unpleasant scratch from Tilly in your thigh. Before picking up, you stared at the screen for a few seconds, just so he didn’t think you were impatiently waiting for his reply. Yes, you were petty like that sometimes.

“Hey!”

“Hello loser!” The raspyness of his voice caught you by surprise, making you shiver. You’d almost forgot how good it sounded.

“No one uses that word anymore.”

“Who cares?” “Good point. Hm, listen… I hope you’re not mad at me for not going...” “What? You really thought I was gonna give up on you that easily?” “Oh, stop it! I’m not going! Besides, even if I wanted to go, what would I wear? I literally have like ze-” You stopped your rambling, realizing he was singing something to you over the phone, you didn’t recognize it at first, but then you realized where it was from.

“You're a mean one Mr. Grinch. You really are a heeeel… You're as cuddly as a cactus! You're as charming as an eel! Mr. Griiiinch… You're a bad banana with a… Greasy black peeeeel!”

It was a song from the last movie you had seen together when he had came home for the holidays. How The Grinch Stole Christmas. He was singing it to mock you by your choice of words, that reminded him of a particular scene of the movie. The way he was messing up the song with his gibberish made you laugh. Eventually both your laughs and his singing faded, leaving you with a huge smile on your face. “You’re an idiot, you know that?” You asked.

“Well, thank you. Now... As a way of thanking me for my… astonishing performace, you must come party with us.”

“You’ve got some nerve coming at me with that crap after you’ve abandoned me for... how long was it again? two months?”

“Hey... I’m trying to redeem myself here!” “Good! As you should.”

“Is that a yes? Please...? You’re not going to say no to me, are you?”

“It’s a maybe... a highy dependant on me finding something to wear type of maybe. First of all, is it like…fancy?”

“Hmm, not really… I think!? You never really know with these parties.”

“Trust me, I’m aware.” There was a brief silent pause on Harry’s side of the phone, as you as you rummaged through your clothes. “What are you going to wear anyway?”

“Don’t know yet. Probably like, some pants… boots… and a shirt?” Harry’s vague description didn't help whatsoever, but you were far too busy trying to disenchant a decent outfit to make light of his words. “Okay!” There was a lot of shuffling from your side, making his eyebrows furrow on the other side the line, despite your lack of knowledge. “I think I may have just found my nice pants, but I don’t know if I have a nice blouse that goes with them... or one that is fitted for the occasion. Why am I so boring with my clothes? I need to invest in a better wardrobe asap…” “You can always come by mine and borrow a shirt… Ya know, If you don’t want to stand out too much.”

“Not standing out by wearing your clothes? Now that’s funny!” “I’m sure you’ll find something wearable...”

“Are you serious? You would let me borrow your clothes?”

“Sure. If you want to.”

“I don’t know… I’m scared I’ll rip them or something.”

“I mean, I like my clothes... but it’s not like I would kill you or myself if something bad happened to them.” “You’re so humble and reasonable Mr. Styles… How did you stay like that?” You could hear him briefelly laugh at your provocation. “I’m serious! besides, I secretly always want to know how my clothes fit on different people.”

“I’m not trying to spoil it for you but probably not that good... Mostly because I’m female shaped so they won’t fit me properly… Also, I’m not sure if you’re aware but you have this gift-” “Oh, shut up! You can pull anything off.” He cut you off before you could either compliment him or put yourself down. “As long as you love it.” “We’ll see about that.” You challenged, noticeably way less hopeful than he was. “I’ll see you in… an hour and half? Is that a good time?”

“Do you want me to ask someone to pick you up?” “I’m good, thank you...” You answered, wasting little time mulling over your friend’s proposal. “But I would happily accept a parking spot in your garage…” You added suggestively, knowing he wouldn’t say no. “Sure! Anything for you.” “Thank you!” “You’re very welcome.” “Okay, well... I better go and get ready now or I’m going to show up late.” “Alright, I need to go get ready as well. See you soon. Drive safe!” “Always do.” It took you a bit more than na hour to get ready, what meant you were already running a little late, since Harry’s house was more than half an hour drive away.

You were wearing one of your favorite “going out” pants, they were black, high-waisted, carrot fitted and overwhelmingly confortable. You went for other one of your favorite pieces - a yellow silk blouse, just in case you ended up not fitting properly in any of Harry’s shirts.

You paired your outfit with oval style ankle boots you’d just recently acquired. I already know I’m going to regret this decision, you thought whilst putting them on.

You had also decided to change into a matching set of lingerie just because you never know what can happen, right? and also partially because you knew you’d be changing at Harry’s, and god forbid he actually saw anything but if he did, at least it wouldn’t be your granny underwear. You put on a neutral makeup look, throwing a couple of lipsticks into your purse, just so you could decide which one to wear depending on the color of the shirt. Finally, you put on a bit of perfume and grabbed your jacket, taking a final look in the mirror, staring at yourself from different angles. “I guess that’s about as good as it’s gonna get.” You mumbled to your reflection.

Before leaving the house, you kissed and petted your cat goodbye, however she didn’t respond to your affection since she was already asleep on top of the clothes you had just carelessly thrown on top of the bed.

You got in your car and drove off, thirty four minutes later you were turning into Harry’s street and stopping the car in front of the condominium’s gate.You took your phone out of your purse and rang him, he picked up almost immediately.

“You’re here?” “Yeah, I’m already at the gate.” “Okay, let me open it for you and I’ll be down in a second.” “Okay, thank you.” The call dropped and the large metal gate started to move, you slowly drove your way into the condo, trying to remember where the entrance to his garage was.

You didn’t have to think too hard, because a few seconds later one of the garage doors started to open and you could see a pair of impecable black leather boots that merged with the bottom of burgundy flares. Yup, no need for more searching, You thought.

You stopped the car, waiting for the gate to fully open for what seemed like an eternity, but it gave you time to fully appreciate the man that was slowly revealing himself in front of you.

You could start to see his top half now, he was wearing a simple white shirt with the sleeves rolled up, uncovering his tattooed arms. The top buttons were undone, exposing the cross necklace he always wore, he was also wearing another necklace you hadn’t seen before, his hands were hidden in his pockets, but you already knew that they would be adorned with multiple rings of all shapes and sizes. What a show off, was the tought that came to mind once his whole outfit was revealed, but you had to admit that you wouldn’t have him any other way...

Finally his head showed up, and he was wearing a big smile on his face.

“Hey you! Better hurry up before this thing closes on you.” You were so lost in his smile that you accidentally let your car die, but you were quick to start it again and as he walked aside you pulled into the garage.

When you finished parking, you got out of the car, being immediately greeted by Harry’s arms that wrapped you in a tight hug. You couldn’t help but to close your eyes to fully enjoy the moment. He smelled like his characteristic cologne, but since your head was pressed against his shoulder, you could also smell the fabric softner on his shirt and his deodorant.

“You smell nice.” You mumbled under your breath. “So do you.” He replied swiftly, resting his chin on the top of your head. He walked you to the elevator and you went up to his apartment. After many minutes of catching up in the living room he led you to his bedroom, where his closet was. “It’s a bit messy in here, I’ve been meaning to organize it, but I haven’t really had the time.” The boy said before opening its door.

You tried not to look mesmerized by the amount of clothing in front of you, because you knew that one of the things Harry hated the most was when people perceived him as shallow or vain. Luckily, most people could tell straight away that his love for fashion had a greater meaning for him than to just look nice... And even when they didn’t, it only took them about seconds of conversation with him to realize how much of a ducky and kind person he truly was. Also, fairly recently he had been getting a lot of praise for his bold fashion choices, what led to a bit of over enthusiasm from his main stylists’s part and himself when it came to investing in it.

“I promise I actually wear most of these...” He justified himself, noticing the enthralled expression you genuinely believed you were managing to disguise.

“Oh, don’t mind me!” You giggled. “I’m just slightly overwhelmed by the number of choices before me.” “Well, take all the time you need.” Harry smiled, sitting over the edge of his bed and unlocking his phone to check the time. It was already past midnight. As you finally gained courage to start going through his clothes, he let his back fall on the bedspread with a sigh and stared at the ceiling, and that’s when you decided you couldn’t possibly not try to mess with him a little bit. “Stupid… Ugly… Out of date…” (Reference (01:20-01:24)

“Hey! Stop it, will you?!” He sat up again, supporting his upper body with his elbows that rested firmly on his lap. “Have you found my dress yet?”

You peeked through the open closet to with a curious expression on your face. “No… Where is it?” you asked, disappearing behind the door and enthusiastically searching his closet for the item, suddently grabbing something that kinda looked like a dress, yet kinda looked like a curtain. “Is this it?” You asked, stepping out of the closet, holding the hanger in front of you.

“It’s not a dress, it’s a kilt... Sicko!” (Reference (01:13-01:18)

“Really? You had that one coming for a long time didn’t you?” You disdainfully smiled, shaking your head in disapproval. You could tell from his little smirk that he was proud of successfully tricking you into his joke. “Yeah, I was hoping you would find it and ask about it, but you didn’t so I had to find a way to deliver the line anyway.”

“Okay, but for real why do you have a wedding dress in your closet?” You turned the hanger to see the strange garment from the front.

“Cause I’m cool like that.”

“You know what? It’s actually not as ugly as it seemed at first sight...”

“Well, I would hope so ‘cause it was bloody expensive.” At the sound of his words you were quick to carefully hang it back in it’s place, gently rubbing the fabric to avoid any crinkles.

You kept looking through his clothes and ended up finding a almost sheer shirt that you liked. It was rusty orange with a psychadelic flower pattern that looked quite unique. Taking advantage of the fact that Harry was laying down and distracted on his phone and freed yourself of your blouse in a swift motion, trying on his shirt on as fast as you could. It fitted you quite nicely to your surprise. “So, have you found anything you like yet?” Your friend asked, with his eyes still stuck on his phone.

“Actually yes, but I could use your help… How would you style this?” He sat up again and focused his attention on you. “How come you end up finding the one shirt I don’t actually remember owning?”

He admired you from the bed, letting is head fall to the side a bit, you could feel his eyes stuck on your figure, what made you feel a bit unconfortable and insecure about your body. His expression changed as he got up and walked towards you, making a little circle around you and finally stopping right in front of you. “May I?” He asked, reaching for the shirt.

“Yeah, go ahead.” You lifted your arms slightly so they wouldn’t get on his way. Carefully, he started adjusting the shirt, slipping it inside your pants and gently pulling it out, until it fell down in a natural way.

You could feel the warmth of his hands on your skin through the fabric, what caused your breathing to get a little heavy and out of your throat came a peculiar husky sound. Luckily, he was so focused on what he was doing that he didn’t even acknowledged it.

Feeling a bit flustered due to his proximity, you decided to break the silence. “You look so different now that you cut your hair…”

“Well, isn’t that kind of the point of changing your hair? Why are you complaining? Do you not find me cute anymore?” “Who lied to you and told you I ever thought you were cute?” Harry looked up at you with disdainful expression once his green eyes met yours. You could feel your cheeks getting warmer by the second. “Well you’re wrong because I am, in fact, very attractive.” He looked down again and undid one of the buttons of the shirt, what left a bit of the black lace of your bra showing. “What are you doing?” You asked in a startled tone. “Just trust me.” “Umm… Fine, I guess.” You shrugged as he stepped back to admire his work. His focused expression broke into a proud smile as he moved to the side, uncovering the mirror just so you could see yourself. You looked hot, there’s no other way to put it. The color of the shirt complimented your skin tone beautifully, as well as the golden necklace that fell over your chest in a sensual way, capturing attention to your stripped neckline. “You look cuter than me, I can't have that... Come on, we’re switching. Take it off, now.” Your handsome friend complained in a frisky tone, grabbing at the hem of his shirt as if he was about to pull it off. “I could never…” You challenged, feeling quite shy after his compliment. “Well, apparently you can.” “You look amazing though...” You complimented back. “Love the pants.” “Really? I think they make my ass look weird sometimes.” The boy confessed, turning around so you could check his bottoms. “I think your ass’s great.” You kind of regretted the conviction you uttered that sentence with. “I mean… in those pants.”

Harry sighed playfully. “I was enjoying the compliment, why did you have to ruin it?”

“Fine, you can take the compliment then.” You granted easily. “Shouldn’t we get going? I’m sure it’s pretty late already…” “Ready?” “Yes, let me just…” You ran to your purse, picking one of the lipsticks you had brought with you, applying it in front of the mirror while the charming man shoved his essential belongings into the pockets of his matching blazer and put it on, completing the look. You noticed he was observing you with curiosity as you tinted your lips in a dark shade of brick orange. “Let’s go missy.” The boy rushed as you locked eyes with him through the mirror. **

Even though you offered to drive to Claire’s house, he insisted on taking his car because he hadn’t driven in a while and wanted to before he got “rusty”. As he was driving, you inquired him about who was hosting the party you were going to, since all he’d told you was that you were meeting your friends at Clare’s house and from there you would share a car, so that the whole group would get there together.

To your surprise, when faced with your question he got quiet and you noticed his expression changing, he briefely took his eyes off the road to look at you and you could practically see the guilt in this face. “What is it?” You asked, wondering what he could be acting so weird about.

“Hum yeah, about that…” He began to stammer, keeping his eyes stuck to the road.

“Just tell me it’s not what I think it is.” “Before you say anything, I know you’ll probably want to kill me right now…” “Harry!” “I knew you wouldn’t have come if I told you... It’s going to be fun, I promise! She’s not as bad as you think she is.” “No Harry!” You fretted. “You know what? Just stop the car, I want to go home.”

“Well, I’m afraid that’s not going to happen.”

“I’m not kidding Harry.” “I’m not dropping you off in the middle of the fucking freeway.”

“Yes you are!” “No, I’m not.” He kept driving and you let your body slip through the seat, crossing your arms in silence, resenting him for almost five minutes while he tried to convince you of how Alexa was way nicer than you thought and that she wasn’t really a bitch, it was just that her sense of humor could be a little off-putting sometimes. The way he was defending her made you feel even angrier, even though you weren’t really listening.

In your head all you could think about was all the times you had the unpleasant surprise of bumping into Alexa. She was such a bitch! Always finding a way to put you down and make you feel embarassed. She even came up with a stupid nickname for you at Harry’s birthday party that she always made sure to use, even though she must’ve known you hated it. “Just so you know, when we get to Claire’s I’m getting a cab and going home.”

“Fine.” He jerked his shoulders dismissively. “If you want to miss out on a great time with our friends, it’s up to you.” “When she’s there it’s never really a good time for me so I guess I’m good.” “Come on…” Harry huffed, shifting his gaze off to road for a moment to check on his muddled friend. “Everyone was so excited to see you...” You were mad that he lied to you, but you were madder that you had gotten all dressed up and now you weren’t going. You also missed your mutual friends and hanging out with them. You kept weighting the pros and the cons throughout the rest of the drive, and when you got to Claire’s house, after a little convincing from the group, you decided you were not going to let the fact that it was Alexa’s party ruin the night for you.

You were still mad at Harry though. And having to go on another car trip with him, feeling his body pressing up against yours whenever there was a turnabout, wasn’t making it easy for you to keep your cool.

As you finally got to Alexa’s house you could tell the house was packed by the number of cars parked outside, making you feel relieved you had a driver, because if you had to find a place to park it would’ve been a nightmare.

There was a group of people lining up, and as you got closer you noticed two men by the door checking for the guests names on a list. You started to get worried that your friends might have omitted to Alexa that you were going, since you were almost certain that your presence wouldn’t please her any better than it did to you. You eyed their faces, looking for any sign of concern, however they seemed calm.

As you walked the line, you started to get more and more nervous, ending up momentarily swallowing your pride and pulling at Harry’s sleeve, in hopes of getting his attention without the rest of the group noticing. “Does Alexa know I’m coming to her party?” You asked as quietly as you could.

“Of course she does! I told her myself.”

“What did she say?”

He didn’t get to answer your question because he was approached by the doorkeeper, that asked him for his name. Harry politely greeted him before answering his question and being such a gentleman, he provided the names of the other members of the group.

The doorkeeper checked the names on the list and to your surprise your name was actually there. He allowed the group to get inside. All of you murmuring a brief “thank you” as you walked past the big guy.

The door led to a giant lounge style living room, that seemed to be where the focus of the party was. To your right, there were three big windows, each with it’s own balcony, where small groups of people gathered to enjoy a smoke and the beautiful view of the city. In the middle of the room there was an open dance space, demarked by an enormous persian carpet, that was still pretty empty despite the fact the DJ was already playing.

Behind the dance area there were two long tables, practically stuffed with different types of alcoholic beverages. It had to be one of the most diverse open bars you had ever seen at a house party. From the ceiling fell party ribbons and lights, and the walls were adorned with baloons and paper decorations. You tried to decipher the color of the objects around you, but it was almost impossible due to the color changing lights that provided an hallucinogenic athmosphere to the space.

You looked around, trying to familiarize yourself with your surroundings. As your eyes scanned the place, they found couple of familiar faces, but they froze at a well-known face in the kitchen.

There was Alexa… She was sitting over the counter, scrolling on her phone. Her glossy lips rested on the edge of the paper cup she was holding. The light from the screen illuminated her face, making her glittery eyeshadow pop behind the thick lashes that she was wearing. She was dressed in a two-toned metallic mini dress and knee-high platform boots. You could tell from her expression that she was distressed about something. Her stillness gave you the opportunity to study her face. Her features were quite angelical, something you had never noticed before.

The sound of something scattering on the kitchen floor woke her up from her daydream as she turned around to curse at whoever opened the kitchen cabinet. Yup, there’s the bitch, You mused to yourself.

She jumped off the counter and walked out of the kitchen, making her way around the groups of people that were chattering by the door. She walked around the living room, trying to greet the people she hadn’t seen yet.

Your eyes briefly met hers before she approached your friends. They went for a group hug, in which you didn’t participate. Instead, you awkwardly stared at them while they hugged and chatted. Harry looked back at you, encouraging you to join them with an eye motion, you let out a sigh and moved closer to the group, what caught Alexa’s attention. “Hi Nutmeg! I haven’t seen you in a hot minute…” She greeted you by kissing the air next to your cheek, before looking you up and down. “I see you’ve upgraded your closet... It was about time.” The beautiful girl remarked, focusing her attention on the shirt you were wearing.

You found yourself side-eyeing Harry, trying your hardest to ignore her taunting words. “I swear I’ve seen that somewhere... what brand is it?” Her question startled you. Prompting your head to tilt towards Harry, realizing he had mirrored the gesture to stare at you. You stood there staring at each other, both of you wishing you could read his mind. “Is there something I’m missing?” Alexa questioned, suspicious of your odd behaviour.

“No, not at all!” Harry was quick to intervene. “I’m gonna go for a drink, anyone wants to join me?” He suggested, clearly attempting to brush off the topic.

“I’ll go get the drinks.” You volunteered, taking the chance to escape and ditch Alexa’s question.

“Will you get me some jack and coke?” The girl requested, handing you her freshly empty cup. “Thanks.” She added when you grabbed it from her hand. It was probably the only time you actually felt pleased to fix Alexa a drink. “Harry, what do you want?” You called his attention back to you, upon realizing he was already engaged into conversation with someone you didn’t know.

“Double Tequila, please.” You raised your brows at his choice of beverage. Already knowing that when he started the night with Tequila he would, most likely, end up drunk out of his mind. But you didn’t bother to try to coarce him into switching to something else. “Do you need an extra hand?” He offered out of politeness.

“It’s fine, I’m sure I can handle it.” You spat as you left, not wanting to interrupt his conversation again.

As the night went on, people started to gather mainly around the dance space, that was proving itself to be a little too small for the large amount of people using it. You were having a good time, but you were definitely not enjoying the feeling of getting rubbed all over by everyone around you. Harry, on the other hand, didn’t seem bothered whatsoever. And as you predicted, he was already pretty out of it, prancing around the place and carelessly engaging into conversation with everyone who approached him, including people you knew he shit talked behind their back... The fake little bitch...

You tried not to care, but you couldn’t keep yourself from constantly checking on him to see what he was up to. You weren’t the only one who couldn’t keep your eyes away from him.. What wasn’t unnusual, since he was such a natural attention-grabber. Howbeit, there were several girls and boys that were practically drooling at the sight of him. That wasn’t new either, but it didn’t make it any less annoying...

When the boy finally made his way back to the group, he tried to convince you to dance with him by grabbing your hand and making you spin for him. You graciously brushed him off. Mostly out of shyness, persuading him into asking your friend John instead. He agreed on the spot... And once he finally managed to get his friend to bend at his will, they got everyone laughing and cheering, encouraging them to keep up with the tango dance moves. But it wasn’t long until the two boys had enough of the attention, laughing it off and joining the group again.

Then a figure rose above the crowd. It was Alexa, who has just stood up on a table holding a microphone in her hand that she was slowly tapping on, attempting to grab everyone’s attention. “Hello, hello, hello my magnificent friends. How is everyone feeling tonight?” She asked, earning a loud cheer from the crowd, that she encouraged by clapping silently before speaking again. “Alright, alright... can y’all can shut the fuck up now? …I just wanted to say that I hope everyone is getting drunk and having a great time. You know me, I gotta be real with you… There are some people here I’d much rather had stayed home, but you know what? You don’t really bother me.” The girl shrugged haughtily. “With that said, I’d like to propose a toast to every single one of you motherfuckers that came to my party. Cheers, bitches!” She yelled the last two words, emptying her cup in a single swig while the crowd cheered and downed their own cups along with the host.

The fact that Alexa let you in had given you the impression that maybe Harry was right about her, but her speech left a bad taste in your mouth and made you wonder if you were one of the people she was talking about, you were almost certain you were. “What did you say earlier about her being a nice person?” You ironically asked Harry, that was standing right beside you.

Your eyes were still stuck on her as you wondered if she would manage to get down from the table without falling. You secretly hoped she wouldn’t.

He failed to answer your question, so you turned to him. Only to realize that he wasn’t there anymore. Your eyes quickly danced around the room, searching for your missing friend, and unfortunatly it wasn’t long until they found him...

Your whole body went cold, feeling your heart sink in your chest. Your vision felt blurry, and there was a complicated knot forming at the tip of your stomach. There he was. Barely six feet away from you. With his back flush against a wall and his lips pressed harshly on somebody else’s. His hands gently caressed up the other boy’s back, that had his hands firmly clutched onto your friend’s hair and the back of his neck.

You felt like your whole world was crashing down in front of you.

Whilst everyone around you was enjoying themselves, all you wanted to do was collapse to your knees and scream your confusing pain away, but you couldn’t. There was nothing you could do and it just fucking hurt.

You’d always known it would eventually happen... But nothing could ever prepare you for the feeling of watching the person you love fondling somebody else.

In the middle of your agony, you noticed a pair of hazel eyes staring right at you from distance, breaking your attention from the heartbreaking scene. “Yo... What the fuck?!” You couldn’t hear her words, but you could read them clearly through the motion of her lips. She looked completely baffled by the state of you.

You stepped back, attempting your best to muffle into the crowd, but it was too late... You were certain she’d saw the devastated look on your face, and the glistening tear that rolled down your cheek afterwards.

You turned your back on the scene and pushed through the crowd, hidding your face as you stumbled upon almost everyone on your way to the bathroom. You locked yourself inside and leaned against the door, finally letting it all out as you sobbed uncontrollably and allowed for your body to slide down the surface, until your knees met the cold marble floor.

A unexpected loud banging on the door startled you. “It’s occupied.” Y/N shouted, in the most composed voice she could fabricate.

“It’s Alexa... open the door.” The girl shouted back impatiently.

“Fuck off Alexa!” You could feel your blood boil and your hands trembling at the mere sound of her voice. “Just leave me alone, will you?”

There was silence for a moment, before she banged on the door harder. You tried to ignore it because considering your state, at the slighest provocation you’d probably lose it and punch her in the face. “Don’t be a fucking bitch, I’m here to help.” Alexa shouted again, but it was pointless. “Okay, fine. I guess I’ll have to ask someone to kick the door down...”

“Don’t you fucking dare.”

“It’s my house. What are you going to do about it?” She challenged, knowing you couldn’t fight her on that. “You have three seconds… one...two…” You flang the door open before she could finish her countdown, causing her to tremble ever so slightly. “Quite the charm, aren’t you?” She sighed satirically, making her way inside the bathroom while fixing her dress. You noticed she was holding a bottle of Bacardi rum, that she promptly opened and handed to you. You stood there perplexedly looking at her, trying to figure out what her intentions were. “Are you going to take it or not?” At that, you abruptly grabbed the bottle from her hand and took it to your lips, taking a big chug and giving it back with a disgusted expression caused by the intense alcohol sting. Alexa took the bottle to her lips as well, but unlike you, her face didn’t even flinch. “What did you come here for?” The sharpness of your tone led her into giving you a dirty look “What do you think? That I came in here to make fun of you?”

“I wouldn’t be surprised if you did.” “Just thought you could use a friend...” She explained, jumping on her bum to sit on the countertop. “And luckily for you, so do I.”

“Judging by the number of people outside, I’m sure you have plenty of friends.”

She let out a silent wheeze at your guess. “Everything isn’t always what it seems, Nutmeg… I have people that keep me company, but when it comes down to the real shit, I have no one I can count with really…”

“I’m finding that quite hard to believe if I’m honest…” “I know you are. So is everyone else. They all assume my life is just perfect. After all, I have everything, don’t I? I don’t blame them... I know I can be cruel and bitter sometimes, but I’m not the cold-hearted, super confident bitch everyone thinks that I am.” “Why are you telling me all that?”

“I don’t know… Maybe ‘cause I’m drunk and lonely and you’re one of the few people here that I actually like…” You couldn’t believe the words that were coming out of her mouth. “You’re messing with me, right?” She, on the other hand, seemed rather confused by your apprehensiveness. “I appreciate people like you... Who manage to stay true to themselves despite hanging out with these people. It’s so easy to lose yourself in this environment... But I don’t think you did, and I can appreciate that.”

“I’m just lucky to have good friends... If they were different, I don’t know if I’d stayed so nice and humble.”

As the silence settled, you took the chance to sit down on the edge of her expensive looking bathtub. “So… changing the subject. You and Harry, what’s the deal?”

“What do you mean?” You pretended you didn’t know what she was implying, hoping she would let go of the topic.

“I’m not stupid. I saw the way you looked when he was all over that guy… I confess I had no idea that you were into him. I thought you liked girls, I could almost swear he had told me that.” Her words made your stomach twist, and Alexa didn’t miss your distressed expression. “Sorry... I’m not very good with words. I didn’t mean to make it worse.” The girl added, trying to make up for her cold stance. “Here...” She handed you back the bottle, and you agreeably to a swig from it. “Does he know?”

“I don’t think so...” “I don’t mean to be unpleasant but I think he thinks you’re a lesbian.” “Yeah, I know… he’s not completely wrong, I guess.” “So, you’re bi?” “I don’t really know what I am.” “Oh, it’s okay. You don’t have to be anything, you can just be… yourself!” You locked eyes with her, briefely smiling at her motivational words “How long have you fancied him for?”

“I don’t know...” You stared down at your own feet. “Thinking back, I guess I always kind of have... but it’s complicated. So I just hoped it would go away with time... Besides, you’ve seen the people he gets with. They’re all gorgeous, and I... I mean, I don’t really meet the standards, do I?” “And how’s that working out for you?” You went quiet, since you didn’t really have a good answer to give. “Okay, here’s what I think you should do. First of all, you gotta stop with the self loathing. It’s depressing and outdated. You’re just as valid as everyone else.”

“It’s not self loathing. You don’t understand… What if he pushes me away? I really care for our friendship and I don’t want to throw it all away because of a stupid crush.” “A stupid crush? Didn’t you just say you’ve always liked him? How long have you known eachother for? Three years?” “Well… Two and half, but it’s not like I’ve been waiting for him… I’ve had my fair share of relationships and so did he, I never did anything to change that. Why would I start now?” “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe because you’re at a party, locked inside a bathroom, crying over him, while he’s out there screwing somebody else.” “God, you’re certainly are awful with words aren’t you?” “I take pride in my honesty.” She stated. “Look, all I can say is that I think this whole “crush” situation is, obviously, far more than a crush... And you know I’m right so don’t even bother to deny it. Therefore, I think it’s long overdue that you do something about how you feel, otherwise you’re just gonna be stuck wondering on the what ifs forever, watching him live his life while you’re unable to move on with your yours, and you deserve better than that. Anyone deserves better than that.” “It’s just… scary.” “Isn’t everything worth trying always somewhat scary at first?” You ended up spending the rest of the night with Alexa. Sitting inside her large empty bathtub, sharing your shittiest life experiences and drowning your sorrows with the bottle of rum. She told you about her crazy ex-boyfriend, and how he had been making her life a living hell since their break up. Showing up uninvited at her work, her parties, and practically everywhere she went, despite her telling him time and time again to stop and leave her alone. You advised her the best you could, but as you expected, she was pretty stubborn and acted as if she had everything under control, even though she clearly did not. The night had taken a unexpected turn for you, however, at least there was something positive you could also take from it, that being the friendship that was beggining to fluorish between you and Alexa.

You were so deep in conversation that you completely lost track of time, so much that you finally felt tired and decided to check you phone for the time, it was already 6AM.

You had seven missed calls and fifteen text messages from your friends asking where you were, if you were okay and if you were still leaving with them. You realized they had probably already left, so you just apologized for leaving early and informed them that you were fine. When you and Alexa got out of the bathroom, there were still a couple of people hanging around, but as expected, the vast majority had already left.

The light coming from the windows hurt your tired eyes and your bottom half was hurting from spending so many hours sitting inside a bathtub. By that time, all you wanted to do was go home, take a shower and take a nap to make up for the all nighter you pulled, but then you remembered…

“Shit!”

“What?”

“I left my car at Harry’s house.”

I hope you’re enjoying it so far! Chapter II is hereeee!

#one direction #one direction imagines #one direction imagine #one direction x reader #1d #solo 1d #harry styles #solo harry #"harr #harry #harry styles fic #harry styles fine line #harry styles imagine #harry styles x reader #imagine #imagines #fanfic #fanfiction #harry styles fanfiction

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ejzah · 4 years

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A/N: I think I was inspired by @glencoco4’s recent story, The Bravest. Hopefully it’s not too similar.

***

“Mom, can I ask you a question?” 15 year old Caleb asked. They were on their way to a soccer practice and he’d been silent most of the way, which was uncommon, but not completely unusual.

“Of course,” Kensi said, glancing over at him. His head was lowered so she couldn’t see his face completely. He swiped at his dark blonde bangs, the movement quick and jerky. His hair was always flopping in his face, just like his father.

“What really happened to dad’s father?” This question was asked softly, but with a conviction that made Kensi pause. He’d asked similar questions over the years when he noticed the lack of presence Gordon Brandel had in their lives. The first time, he’d simply asked why he only had one grandpa.

This time felt different.

“Caleb, what’s going on?” He hesitated for a minute, fiddling with his shoes and then his hair before he finally whispered,

“I found this box at Grandma Deeks’ house when I was looking for pictures for that school assignment.” Caleb paused again as Kensi’s heart suddenly began to race and then he looked at her, his eyes full of confusion.

“There were a bunch of papers. Like legal papers. And this file that said “Juvenile Record of Martin Deeks”. I opened it up and...” he swallowed harshly and his voice dropped to a whisper. “Mom, it said he shot his dad. Is that true?”

Kensi’s mouth felt incredibly dry and suddenly she wasn’t sure if she could speak at all. They’d known this moment was coming at some point, she just hadn’t expected it to happen like this.

“Did you read the whole file?” she finally asked. He shook his head quickly.

“No, I just saw that and I freaked. I shoved everything back in the box and told grandma I had a test to study for.”

“There’s a lot more to the story,” Kensi said slowly, driving aimlessly now. Making a sudden decision, she signaled and pulled off to the side of the road. She texted Caleb’s coach to tell him that he wouldn’t be at practice and then turned to her son. “This is something we need to discuss with your dad.”

His face fell.

“So it’s true. How-what-how does that happen?” He sounded so confused it broke Kensi’s heart. Awkwardly wrapping an arm around his broad shoulders, she gave him a hug and assured him,

“Your dad is a good man. One of the best men I have ever know and I promise when you know the whole story, it will make sense.”

“But-“

“It’s not my story to tell, honey.”

She let them both calm down for a few more minutes before she turned the van around. She’d sent Deeks a text that they needed to talk about something important so he wouldn’t be completely shocked.

It was hard to tell what Caleb was thinking; he could be just as boisterous and social as his father, but he also had a similar tendency to turn introspective. During those times, Kensi knew his actions, and thoughts, could be unpredictable.

“Hey, what’s going on?” Deeks asked, when they walked through the door. He kissed Kensi distractedly, looking them both over for signs of injury.

“I found your juvenile record,” Caleb answered, not beating around the bush. Kensi heard Deeks suck in a quick breath.

“Oh,” he muttered, rubbing his hand over his mouth. “We should probably sit down.”

Kensi and Deeks sat down on the couch, next to each other, automatically linking their hands. After a minute, Caleb sat next to them, but he kept his arms crossed.

“Dad, why did you shoot him?” Deeks sighed again and Kensi knew he was struggling to put words to a subject that still haunted him.

“Before I answer that question, you need to know a few other things. My dad he, uh, he wasn’t a great person. He drank a lot and he was very angry. When I was about five or six, he started hitting me and your grandma. He’d flip out over something or they’d get in an argument and he’d hit us,” Deeks explained, his eyes never leaving their son’s.

His lips had parted in surprise when Deeks had mentioned the violence and he shook his head, putting up a hand to halt the story.

“That’s domestic violence,” he whispered.

“Yeah.” The word was a little broken and Deeks drew in another shallow breath. Even after all these years, it was hard for him to talk about. Kensi leaned into his side, offering the contact as support. Deeks’ body was rigid with tension.

“How bad did it get?” Kensi thought he knew. She though Caleb had put all the pieces together already, but much like his parents, he liked to have all the information. He wasn’t content with half-stories.

Deeks pressed his lips together and nodded.

“Pretty bad. We ended up in the emergency several times and my arm got broken once. It the violence increased over time and then one night, when I was 11, he got mad at your grandma over something. I don’t even remember what. But he, uh, he started throwing things and hitting her and this time he didn’t stop.” Another breath.

“I ran into the room. I don’t know what I was thinking I could do, but I jumped in front of grandma and dad hit me instead. He told me to get out of the way and when I didn’t, he kept hitting me. Then he grabbed his shot gun.”

“Oh my god,” Caleb whispered. He face was stricken and reached out to take his father’s other hand. Deeks squeezed it back, staring into space for a moment.

“Mom pushed me out of the way. She wasn’t in good shape, but she was still trying to protect me. Dad started hitting her again, threatening to shoot us...so I ran upstairs. A friend of mine had given me a gun in case anything really bad happened and I, uh, I grabbed it and ran back downstairs.”

Tears were running down all three of their cheeks at this point and Kensi gripped Deeks’ hand so hard it must have hurt. She didn’t know if he’d ever gone into this much detail with anyone. Certainly not with her.

“When he saw me with it, he shoved me away and aimed the shot gun at your grandma and I just shot him. I don’t know how I even hit him since I’d never fired a gun before, but it hit him in the side.

“I don’t remember all that much after that until the police came. One of the neighbors had called them,” Deeks finished, watching Caleb’s reaction. He’d stopped crying, but his cheeks were still wet and he scrubbed at them ineffectually.

“Did your dad die after you shot him,” he asked. Kensi noticed that he didn’t link himself with the man he’d never met, like he normally would.

“No. He recovered after a couple weeks in the hospital and then he was tried in court and went to prison.” Caleb opened his mouth, but Deeks guessed his next question before he asked. “I never saw him again after that. All I know is that he was released from jail early and later died in a car accident.”

Good,” Caleb said fervently.

“Caleb!” Kensi reprimanded him sharply, even though she secretly agreed.

“What, I mean it.” Caleb had that stubborn set to his face that was again indicative of his parentage. Deeks freed one of his hands and scrubbed it over his face, looking older and more tired than he had 10 minutes ago.

“Caleb, you don’t want to think like that, believe me,” he said. “Your gra-my dad was not a good man, but you never want to get into thinking that someone dying is a good thing.”

Caleb rolled his eyes, but didn’t contradict Deeks.

“So why didn’t you tell me this before?” he asked. He sounded hurt and possibly bitter. “Every time I asked what happened to my other grandfather, you just said he died a long time ago. Even if you didn’t want to tell me the whole story, you should have told me the truth.”

Deeks glanced at Kensi again and she nodded for him to continue.

“We didn’t tell you because it’s a lot to handle. Even though your nearly an adult, knowing my history is a big weight to put on another person. We didn’t want to put that on you too soon,” he said gently.

“I think that should have been my choice.”

“Well, now that you know, what are you thinking?” Kensi asked gingerly. She couldn’t tell what he was thinking and that worried her.

Caleb looked across the room, messing with his fingers as he thought. Eventually he shrugged and said,

“It makes a lot of sense,” he said, speaking directly to Deeks. “Everything I’ve seen you do, everything you’ve told me and taught me all my life, it makes sense now. It explains a lot about you too.”

“In a good or bad way?” Caleb seemed surprised by the question.

“I’ve always wanted to be just like you and now I have even more reason to want that.”

“Is that why you were so upset when you found that file?” Kensi asked, suddenly coming to a realization. “You thought your dad wasn’t the man you’d looked up to for so long.”

Caleb shrugged again.

“I guess.” He turned to Deeks again. “I’m sorry I ever doubted you, Dad.”

“No worries, buddy,” Deeks assured him as Caleb swiped at his nose again. He seemed close to crying again and Deeks wrapped his arm around his shoulders, pulling him close. “Come here.”

Kensi wrapped her arms around both of them as Caleb buried his head in their shoulder the same way he had when he was a little boy.

“Thanks for always taking care of us, dad,” he whispered hoarsely.

“Always,” Deeks promised, looking over his head at Kensi. “Always.”

#ncis la fanfiction #marty deeks #kensi blye #angst #ejzah fanfiction

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lovemesomesurveys · 3 years

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1. What would you do if your pet suddenly started to talk to you, but nobody else could hear it? Would you assume you'd gone mad or simply be happy for the company? Would you try to convince your friends and family or would you be satisfied keeping it to yourself? Omggg, that would be so trippy. I’d definitely be freaked out at first and think someone slipped me something haha. I think I’d keep trying to talk to her and get her to respond before it really set it in that it was really happening. I’d have so many questions and things I’d want to say. That would be so cool. Hopefully, she wouldn’t have anything bad to say... ha. What if she just started going in on me about everything I’ve said and what she has observed. She’d be like, “girl, you need to get your shit together.” haha. What if she wasn’t as sweet and loving as I think she is? :O lol. Nah, we’d have an even closer bond. (: Anyway, I honestly don’t know if I would tell anyone. I’d certainly want to. I’m positive I would try and record her talking for proof. If not, then maybe I’d try to prove it another way. Like, have my family say or ask her something without me hearing and then ask her about it and tell them what she said. I’d find some way!

2. When you answer the phone, what do you typically say? Is it different depending on whom the caller ID says it is (if you have caller ID)? Generally, just a typical “hello.” Sometimes I’ll say something else when my mom calls. Like, jokingly I might act annoyed and say, “What do you want?” or “Hey, boobala/boob” lol. My family and I call each other those nicknames.

3. Is there a food that you only recently started to like? If so, what is it and when did you start liking it? How often do you try again foods you don't like to see if your tastes have changed? Prior to a couple months ago I didn’t eat breakfast sandwiches very often and the addition of cream cheese was something new for me. It’s not that I didn’t like breakfast sandwiches before, it just wasn’t something I had too often. My brother got me hooked on this local place that makes ‘em and then we started making our own. I also started eating guacamole with my scrambled eggs. I don’t retry foods I don’t like. If I don’t like something then I just don’t eat it again.

4. Who would you NOT want to read the surveys you've posted on here? What would most likely happen if they did read it? Is there anyone you actually wish would read your survey answers but whom doesn't? I’m really open on here and share stuff that I don’t express or open up about in person. I can get deep and dark sometimes. I wouldn’t want my family to see some of my responses because I wouldn’t want them to worry or know certain things. There isn’t anyone I know that I want to see my surveys. These are like my personal journal entries. ...that people I don’t know can read... ha.

5. What three things do you think will become obsolete in the next ten years, and why? Hmm. I don’t know. That requires more thinking than I can be bothered to do.

6. Do you watch Glee? If so, which song do you want to hear on there that they have not yet done? If not, which TV show do you think has the best soundtrack? No, I never got into Glee. I’m not sure about which show I’d say has the best soundtrack. I don’t really pay that much attention to that.

7. What do you find to be the most irritating piece of clothing to wear wet? Are you the type of person to go to great lengths to avoid getting your clothing wet? What about your hair? Jeans for sure, but I don’t like wearing wet clothes of any kind. It’s just uncomfortable and makes me cold. I don’t feel I have to go great lengths to avoid getting wet, though. I don’t encounter situations where that could happen all that often. I don’t mind if it’s raining and I get a little wet, but I don’t want to get drenched. I don’t really care about my hair getting wet anymore, but I used to hate it when I actually attempted styling my hair because my hair gets very frizzy and flat when it gets wet.

8. How often do you witness discrimination? Do you ever speak up about it when you do see it? Or would you only speak up if the discrimination was directed toward you or someone close to you? >> I don't often witness anything, to be honest, since I'm home so often. I don't really have significant experience with blatant discrimination, despite my myriad marginalities. <<<

9. Do you think you would be able to pull off a crime perfectly, without being caught? What about other lies? For example, cheating on your partner without getting caught? Would you be able to get away with it? No. Not that I have any desire to try, but I know I would be too scared and anxious and make mistakes. Not to mention the guilt. Something would give myself away for sure.

10. Are you the type to get embarrassed if your parent/parents acts/act your age? Do they do this often? Or do you think it's stupid to put an age on the way one can act? Pfft, my parents are awesome. My mom especially is a lot cooler than me. People love her.

11. Do you know anyone who has divorced and remarried the same person? What do you/would you think of someone who does that? No, not personally. 12. Do you say goodnight to anybody before you go to bed? If so, does it feel weird if you go to bed without saying it to them? My family and I say it to each other and yeah it does feel weird if for some reason one of us doesn’t.

13. How do you react when you're scared? Do you scream, jump, cover your eyes, etc.? I’m really jumpy and skittish. If it involves a bug, I really freak out and it’s super embarrassing.

14. Who is the best storyteller you know? What do you find best about their storytelling? Is there an interesting story of theirs you'd like to share? My grandpa was. He always told the best stories and he had a lot of ‘em. They could be quite long and go off on tangents at times, but they always came full circle. And he was really funny, too.

15. When you check your e-mail account, how much of it do you delete without even looking at it? Do you have a separate account for junk like this? A lot of it, honestly. Some I can tell by the subject line if it’s something of interest to me like a particular sale.

16. Do you strongly dislike (or even hate) any bands or musical artists? If so, what caused such a strong negative emotion towards them? No, I don’t have any strong negative emotions towards a band or artist. If there’s one I don’t like then I just don’t listen to them, that’s really it.

17. What are you listening to? Is it something you would normally be found listening to, or just something you've started listening to recently? Yeah, I listen to a lot of ASMR.

18. Does/did your school bus stop directly in front of your house? If not, where does/did it stop? I never had to take the school bus, but no there isn’t one that stops in my neighborhood that I’ve ever seen. I’m not sure where to be honest. I did take the public bus in college sometimes, though. The bus stop isn’t right by my house, but it only took me a few minutes to get to it.

19. Do you parents have any collections? If so, what do you think of those collections? My dad has his various sports memorabilia and shoes, my mom has a lot of stuff for her favorite football team, shoes, books, Baby Yoda stuff, Disney Loungefly backpacks, and some other knickknacks.

20. Are there any movies you watch when you're feeling anxious or depressed? If so, what are they, and what about them calms you down and/or lifts your spirits? No, I don’t tend to turn to movies for that. I turn to ASMR and/or another one of my distractions. If I do decide to turn to TV, I just put on something mindless that I’ve already seen that doesn’t require much thinking or paying attention.

21. Would you rather see a band/artist perform in a small club, an arena, or at an outdoor venue? Why? Which one have you been to most recently? I enjoy arenas, personally. From my experience, I’ve never had to be hugged up on people or feel claustrophobic in an arena. Since I’m in a wheelchair, I’ve always just sat up in the nosebleeds and there’s plenty of space and not a lot of people. I can also see better. At a small club or outdoor venue, people would be standing and I wouldn’t be able to see at all.

22. Do you have a favourite role of Johnny Depp's? If you don't like him, what is your favourite role of an actor you like? I’ve always thought he was a very talented actor. My favorite role of his is Sweeney Todd.

23. If you were in a competition to win your dream prize, and you were allowed to decide what the competition would be (trivia about your favourite band, a foot race, singing, etc.) , what would you choose and why? Uhhh. I feel like I’d still end up losing somehow even if I got to choose the competition, ha. I don’t feel like I’m super knowledgeable or especially great at anything.

24. What is your least favourite thing about the English language? Are there any other languages you prefer besides English? Just how we have words like “read” that can be pronounced differently depending on how its used and silent letters. Like why are silent letters a thing?

25. Would you be upset if a long-term partner confessed that they had committed a serious crime before you met? How do you think it would affect your relationship? What type of crime are we talking about and did they already serve their time or whatever was required? That would be a very difficult situation to be in to say the least. If we were in a long-term relationship I couldn’t just drop them and end things like that unless they told me they committed a murder. That would cause a whirlwind of emotions and confusion and shock and gah it would be horrible. It’d be difficult because I would know a different side of them and still have feelings for them, but I wouldn’t able to get past something that serious.

26. Who, out of the people you know, do you think has the most messed-up relationship? Have you ever spoken up about it or do you stay out of it? Have you ever been in a relationship that was really messed-up? No one I know currently.

27. What emotion have you been feeling most commonly lately? Do you like feeling this way? If not, have you done anything to try to change it? Depressed, moody, irritable, frustrated... that’s been ongoing for years now, though. I hate feeling that way, yet I haven’t done anything to try and change it. :/

28. Why did you/your parents choose to live where you do now? Would you move right now if you were able to? Why/why not? If so, where would you like to go? My mom was born here and majority of her family lived and still live here. I’m not quite sure when my dad and his parents came here. My paternal grandparents lived here for awhile until they moved out of state about 20 years ago. My mom was very close to her parents, but they’ve both passed away 10 and 15 years ago now. But yeah, being near family and already living here was the main reason. There was other stuff, too, like not wanting me or my brother to have to change schools and then we both went to the local UC, which is a really great college. And stuff like my parents’ jobs being here and not being financially able to move. So yeah, it’s a lot of different factors, but we’ve honestly been wanting to move for a very long time. We don’t care much for the city itself. I don’t feel tied here despite living all my 31 years here so far. The last year we’ve gotten a little more serious about it and have taken some necessary steps. My brother is graduating soon and I think after that we’re going to finally do it.

29. Is there a song that you think, lyrically, describes your childhood? Have you ever had a song describe your life perfectly, each and every word? How does it make you feel when you come across songs like this? Not my childhood, but yeah there’s several songs that I just really relate to where the lyrics seem to speak right to me. I like using relatable quotes and lyrics to try and express myself or describe how I’m feeling because they do it much better than I can.

30. Do you tend to befriend people who are of a similar, smaller or larger weight than yourself? (Even if it doesn't matter to you, you can admit it.) Has it always been this way? That has honestly never been a factor when befriending someone... like, that doesn’t matter at all. I don’t know why it would. I’m concerned about a person’s personality, who they are as a person, or whether or not we connect.

31. List a random fact (each) you know about 5 of your favourite survey takers: Lane (@inchoate-surveys) has a dog that looks so much like mine named Finn. Elisabeth @bionic-beth) is a teacher in New York. Robyn (@ssurveys) likes Paramore. Lina ( @iaintgotcontrol) is from Sweden, which I think is really cool. I’d love to visit someday. Lauren (@brilliant-bloss0ms) is into interior design.

32. Whenever you have a question about something random, are you more likely to ask Google or someone you know? Does it depend on what exactly you want to know? Do you do both? I just Google it real quick.

33. How old were you when you went on your first date? Was there anything you would change about the experience? How do you think it shaped your expectations? If you've never been on a date, what did you like best about the last meal you ate? I was in my early 20s. We went to dinner and a movie, which was how I thought a first date should go. It was nice.

34. If you had to serve a meal to an ambassador from another country that symbolized your country's culture, what would you choose? Do you think s/he would love it as much as you do? Hamburgers, fries, and apple pie. ha. That’s not my favorite meal, though. If I served my favorite food it would be boneless garic parm and lemon pepper wings, ha.

35. If someone broke into your house and robbed you, what could they take that would piss you off or upset you the most? To what lengths would you go to get it back? Has something like this already happened to you before? My laptop, definitely. There wouldn’t be a whole lot I could do to get it back. I mean yeah, I could file a report but I wouldn’t expect to ever get it back. No, thankfully nothing like that has happened before.

36. Do you enjoy watching the special features found on most DVDs? What do you usually enjoy more: the deleted scenes, the bloopers, the audio commentary, or the behind-the-scenes footage? I very rarely ever watched those, but if I did I checked out the bloopers and maybe the behind-the-scenes footage.

37. Do you care at all about the Stanley Cup playoffs? If so, which team are you rooting for, and is it different than the team you're sure will make it to the cup? If you don't care, is your family the type to get right into a sport, or is the topic of sports rarely spoken about in your house? My dad loves sports and my mom has her favorite football that she gets really into, but I have no interest in sports at all.

38. Have you ever had your own flower garden? If so, what are/were your favourite flowers to plant? No.

39. Would you ever date someone who is exactly like your youngest (or oldest, if you're the youngest) sibling? Why/why not? Some of the same qualities, yeah, such as intelligent, hardworking, ambitious, responsible, funny.

40. Was there something you were afraid of as a child that just seems silly to you now? I was terrified of Ghost Face as a kid and now Scream is one of my favorite scary movies.

#personal #text #survey #surveys

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