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#yeah. yeah of course she would. because van shared the worst of her
novelconcepts · 1 month
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Do you ever just lay awake at night, turning over in your head the stark difference in delivery between Hewson's Van saying--steadily, unshakably--"it's just something that's happening to you...happening to us" and Cypress' Taissa saying--imploringly, whiningly--"this was not just my dream, this was our dream"?
Do you ever just turn it over and over, how often Tai tried to scare Van away, and how it only made Van set her feet more firmly? How Taissa's first love was this person who saw a problem fall into Taissa's lap, a problem that was quite literally trapped inside Taissa's body, and decided unflinchingly: No, that's an us problem now? How she refused point-blank to walk away even with blood in her mouth, how she flatly informed Tai "I'm never gonna be scared of you", and promptly turned a moment of pain into a declaration of love? And how this would etch itself into Taissa for the rest of her life? How she'd take these things that worked with Van--with the person Van was, with the bond they shared--and try so hard to run through an identical script with Simone?
Except Simone is her own person. A completely different kind of person. A person who hasn't been offered any of the context, any of the realities going on inside Taissa. So: naturally she doesn't respond the way Van did at eighteen--and will go on to do all over again in her forties. Naturally, she hears our dream as the excuse it is, not as a plea for connection. Naturally, she is scared away when Taissa pushes, and shouts, and begs. Because there isn't blood in her mouth, not yet, but there will be. And they have a son to worry about. And she isn't eighteen and a special kind of immortal, a special kind of romanticized. She's a grown woman with responsibilities, with priorities, with an understanding that you can't fix someone just because you love them. And Tai can't just perform a revival of the play she and Van had memorized twenty-five years later with a whole new performer in the works, and expect it to shake out the same.
Of course it doesn't work. But look at Taissa trying it. Look at Taissa trying to reframe her first love through a new lens. Trying to recast it. Trying to play it through again. Van taught her love was sticking out the blood, shaking off the pain, making a you problem into an us problem. Does it ever just eat at you, how tragic it is, watching Taissa try to shape her marriage around a woman who isn't even wearing a ring?
#yellowjackets#yj meta#taivan#sorry i'm just fucking obsessed with cypress' delivery choice in that scene#it is the most immature we EVER hear tai sound#and it's not teenage taissa. it's adult wife-mother-almost senator tai flat out whining in desperation#it is SUCH a choice#and then after the S2 opener to hear van sound so adult offering a glimpse as to WHY tai would#so pleadingly seek turning a Tai Thing into an Us Thing#yeah. yeah of course she would. because van shared the worst of her#van shared it without allowing tai to dissaude her. van quite literally tethered herself to tai's problems#and tai learned: that is what love is#and tai thought: this is what love is#it's sharing. and giving up on sharing is surrendering the whole thing#and she's lying! is the thing! she's lying to simone and to herself#she's making excuses for doing what she wants to do even though she shouldn't be doing it#but the core of it is Team. the core of it is Us. the core of it is#'if you love me you will be on my side. for better or worse.'#because that's what van did. for better. and for so much worse.#which isn't true. isn't actually how love works. love is sometimes putting your foot down and saying 'nah dude that ain't it.'#love is communication. but that was never taivan's game and it isn't tai's now and so she's just trying old plays#and it is NOT a play that can ever work the same with simone in the leading role. nor should it.#but god everything about them makes me so sad because simone deserves better and taissa needs what she won't admit to#anyway. will be absolutely gnawing at the walls until S3.
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magmahearts · 4 months
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TIMING: just after aria's vancation PARTIES: @ariadnewhitlock & @magmahearts LOCATION: the magmacave SUMMARY: in the aftermath of ariadne's experience with rhett, she and cass share a moment. CONTENT WARNINGS: mentions of kidnapping
The cave was quiet, and Cass thought that that was probably a good thing. After everything Ariadne had been through recently, something quiet would probably be nice. A good change of pace, a nice way to unwind. Whoever the man who’d hurt her was — the man Cass had only the vaguest description of, the man who made the fire in her chest burn to the point of eruption in a way she usually tried so hard to avoid — he wouldn’t be able to get to Ariadne here. Not in Cass’s domain, not with her as a protector. Superheroes were good like that.
They lay in the floor of the cave, the rocks comfortable and familiar beneath the oread’s back. She glanced over to Ariadne, shifting a little. “Do you need a pillow or something? I have one somewhere, I think.” To Cass, the stony floor of the cave might as well have been a fancy hotel mattress. But not everyone was built of stone. She knew that. “Or we could get up and walk around, if you wanted. There’s a stream further down, if we go deep enough. I don’t think I’ve gotten the chance to show you yet.” Van had liked it, when she’d visited. Maybe it would help, make Aria feel better.
The cave was dark and quiet and beautiful. The best part of all of this was the fact that Cass was here. Cass was here and this cave was so important to her and so it was important to Ariadne, too. She appreciated the calm that it provided — though she also had a heck of a strong feeling that the calm all came from her best friend.
“I'm okay! I kinda like how the rocks feel. Makes me feel ... well, alive seems weird to say, but it makes me feel real and just actually here, which is what I think I really need right now.” She looked over at Cass, “if you want, I'd love to see more of the place you love so much — but I am also very content just lying here with you. 'Cause you're my favorite best friend and this is already doing wonders for me.” Ariadne wondered for a moment if that was too much, too anything not positive, but she pushed that particular thought away, because Cass was her best friend, and they both loved each other, and didn't get mad at each other ever. At least not over stuff like this. “I'd love to see more of your cave though, yeah. A water stream sounds magical.”
Her chest was fluttering, the warmth in her stomach turning to something less angry and more pleasant as Ariadne replied that she liked how the rocks felt. Aria was good at that, good at making Cass feel less like a volcano and more like a person. It was why they were best friends, really — they helped each other, the way best friends were supposed to. Cass had never really had that before, and she suspected Aria hadn’t, either.
It did, of course, make it a little harder when things happened. Cass didn’t know how to help Aria with this, didn’t know how to relate in a way that amounted to anything. She wanted to make it as though the bad things had never happened at all, but that was impossible. You couldn’t erase the terrible parts of someone’s life, no matter how much you loved them. It was kind of the worst. 
But she could lay on the rocks with her, and Aria said that helped. Cass tried to let herself believe it. “I can show you,” she said, because she wasn’t sure she liked sitting still when her stomach was twisting and her palms felt sweaty. Standing, she held a hand out to Aria with a small smile. “I think you’ll really like it. The stream. We can put our feet in it.”
She’d thought about Cass a lot when she’d been all locked up. It had been one of the only ways, along with thoughts of Wynne, that Ariadne hadn’t completely given up. Cass hadn’t forgotten about her while she’d been gone, and she still wanted to be best friends, and Ariadne couldn’t have been more grateful for that.
Ariadne ran her fingers along the rock floor. “It doesn’t – uh – hurt them, if I do that, right? I don’t want to hurt the rocks. Or make them feel bad, or anything like that.” Was that saying too much? Being too much? She hoped not. She didn’t want to disappoint Cass.
“I’d love to see that, then.” She took Cass’s hand, her friend’s warmth immediately comforting. “That sounds nice. Really good. Is it fresh water? I’d love to put my feet in it, that sounds good.” Ariadne supposed that she could lie down in it, too, on account of the whole not having to breathe thing, but she wasn’t about to suggest that to Cass right now. “Lead the way.”
Cass smiled softly at Ariadne’s question, shaking her head. “Rocks are hard to hurt.” But no one ever asked that. No one ever worried about hurting stone, about damaging it. To most people, the rocky floor of the cave they sat in was something to be taken for granted. A solid foundation was important, but no one ever thought about it after it had been laid down. People walked all over it, kicked it, mined it for stone that, to them, was ‘better’ than what was on the surface level. No one ever cared how it might make the rocks feel.
No one but Ariadne.
It was another reason why what had happened to her seemed so unfair. How could someone want to hurt her? How could someone look at this girl, at Cass’s best friend, who cared about hurting a rock’s feelings and worried about the floor on which she sat, and think that she was something to be harmed? Cass wanted to tear the world apart for her.
“It’s fresh water,” she confirmed with a nod. “No salt. You should be able to put your feet in if you want to. It isn’t very deep, though. It doesn’t even come up to my knees.” But she bathed in it sometimes anyway, when she had nowhere else to go and didn’t want to bother any of her friends with showers she could use. She squeezed Aria’s hand gently, offering her another smile. “Come on.” She gently tugged her friend along, towards the stream.
“Okay, but hard doesn’t mean impossible and I don’t want to even semi-sort-of hurt them.” Ariadne brushed her hand against the rocks again, before pressing her lips to her fingers and her fingers back to the rocks. “I want them to know I love them, and I love that my best friend is so connected with them.” Talking about Cass and focusing on Cass and the rocks and how comforting the cave felt made things a little bit easier. Hardly easy, but Ariadne knew she couldn’t hope for that. Not now, but things were easier with Cass, and that was something she’d happily grab ahold of.
“I’d love to put my feet in, and it’s fine if it’s not deep, it’s still going to be beautiful.” There was a lot about the world that made Ariadne feel incredibly uncertain, but this was not one of them. The world was still beautiful, and especially the world when it involved things her friends treasured.
Standing up more fully, Ariadne eagerly let her friend pull her along, until they’d arrived at the stream. “Wow, it’s so pretty – Cass, it’s – if it’s okay to say, it feels like you live in the most beautiful and magic of lands.”
I love you, Cass thought. And then, because some things needed to be said aloud, “I love you.” The way Aria cared about the rocks — was it because Cass cared, or because she cared about everything this much? Either way, it made the oread feel warm. “I think they know. Rocks are pretty good listeners.” As a kid, most of her ‘friends’ had been made of stone. Some people might have thought it sad, but there was nothing sad about it. Not to Cass, anyway. Rocks were solid and reliable as a rule. People were anything but.
“It’ll feel nice,” she agreed, still smiling. It was hard not to with Ariadne. She’d never imagined she’d have this someday — a best friend who cared for her, who was there for her, who supported her and shared her interests. It had sounded too good to be true for so long that it was flooring to find it so effortlessly true now.
She led Ariadne down to the stream, walking close beside her as if she was still a little afraid she might disappear. The close call with the hunter had been too close a call, really. The idea of a repeat performance was terrifying. But it wasn’t something they needed to dwell on now. Now, all they needed was the two of them and the stream. Cass put her feet into the stream, tugging Aria down to do the same. She smiled at her friend’s words. “It’s okay to say. I think so, too. I love it here. I wish you could have seen the volcano back on Hawai’i, though.” But Aria wouldn’t have been able to visit her there, wouldn’t have been able to come inside like she could here. Maybe that made the cave better, in a sense.
“I love you.” It was so easy to say to Cass. Everything was easier with her around, though – so much so that sometimes Ariadne forgot what it was like to feel alone. Which, of all the things to forget, certainly wasn’t a bad sort of thing. “I bet they are, they’ve been around forever, and they’re so important to us and to the world and to everything, I bet they’re the best listeners around.”
She would’ve preferred to have met Cass before she died, or without dying at all, really, but the idea that the two of them could set a world record for length of best friendship was, in the end, a very appealing sort of thing. Even though Ariadne knew that such a record could never be actually reported, she’d be happy to have it kept between the two of them, because that was what mattered most, and that was the coolest sort of thing to be able to share with a friend – to have secrets only the two of you knew about.
“It will.” She affirmed. 
“I wish I could’ve seen it, too, but this is your home now, and so that’s all that matters to me. Besides, you can tell me about Hawai’i all you want, and I’ll just imagine like I’m there.” Ariadne chewed absently at her nails, “and we can pretend like we’re there, if you want – whatever you want, okay? So long as we’re together.”
Even now, there was something undeniably freeing about hearing those three words. She had plenty of people who said it to her these days, but it still sent a thrill through her every time she heard it. For years, those words had been an unheard of thing. Something she whispered to herself in the dark, something so foreign it might as well have been another language. She didn’t know when she’d become fluent in it. Probably somewhere around the time she’d invited a girl her age to go see a movie with her, or held hands with a pretty redhead in a cave, or experienced a harrowing event in a grocery store and walked out with three new friends. 
She smiled as Aria continued, nodding adamantly. “They’re the best,” she agreed. “Always there, always solid.” A good foundation for a reason. She’d never had much to build upon in the metaphorical sense. No family that cared about her, no friends that wanted her safe and happy. But she’d always had the Earth beneath her feet, the stones that fit perfectly in her palm when she’d had no hand to hold. She had people now, of course — Ariadne’s presence in the cave was proof enough of that — but the rocks hadn’t gone anywhere. They never would.
Humming, she led the way towards the stream. “I miss it,” she admitted, and she might not have made the confession to anyone else. It felt wrong to miss a place that had cast her out now that she’d found somewhere that never would. But she missed the heat of the open volcano, the strength that came along with it. “But I like it here. With you, and Alex, and Milo, and Nora, and Wynne, and everyone.” The people were more important than the place; she knew that.
“You can always rely on them too, right?” Ariadne loved how much Cass loved rocks, how there was an (obvious, she supposed) connection between her best friend and the rocks, but just seeing how much she loved them was incredibly endearing. It made her love Cass all the more, if such a thing were even possible (and she liked to think it was, given the negative impossibilities that had become realities, good possibly impossible things also had to have the ability to become reality. They just had to).
“It makes sense that you miss it.” She let her hand gently fall on her friend’s shoulder. “I would’ve loved to visit, but I love your home here, too, and you’re here, and that’s the only real thing that I’d wanna see, though I mean, of course I want to see where you’re from but…” Ariadne let her voice trail off, briefly. “You’re the reason I’d want to see any of that anyhow, so so long as you’re here, that’s all I really care about.”
With most people, Ariadne might’ve worried about how frequently she was insisting that she loved them, but thankfully, she never had to worry about that with Cass. It was unfortunate because she never wanted her friend to feel any doubt about the love that she deserved, but it also worked well because of the fact that she and Cass could go in circles forever about how much they cared about each other, and what better thing was there to do that about than love? “I like it here with you, and Wynne, and Alex, and Nora, and everybody. It’s just nice. To have friends. To have the bestest best friend in the world.” She took a deep breath. “It makes me think that maybe, everything’ll be at least mostly okay.”
“Right,” Cass confirmed. Even when she’d had no one, she’d had the stones of the Earth, always there beneath her feet. They’d been her first friends, in a way, the first thing that had ever loved her back. The fact that she got to share them now — with Aria, with Alex, with all her friends — it was a beautiful thing. She didn’t think she’d ever felt anything better, anything more exciting. 
And it was people like Aria who made the sting of being so far away from the volcano she’d been a part of for so long easier to bear. She still missed Hawai’i, but it didn’t feel like home anymore. That title belonged here now, in Wicked’s Rest. With Ariadne, in this cave. “I’m glad I’m here, too,” she admitted. “I’m glad I got to meet you. I’m happy here. I really, really am.” For the first time, she felt as if she belonged somewhere. It was hard to top something like that.
It was hard to top this, too. This idea that she made someone’s life better, that her presence was enough to make Ariadne feel as if everything could still be okay in spite of what she’d been through, in spite of the terrible people who did terrible things like locking someone in the back of a van just because they were different. “I’m glad I can help you feel that way. You help me feel that way, too. I’ll always try to make you feel okay.” It wasn’t a promise — those were dangerous to make, Cass knew — but it was the closest thing to one.
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servin-up-surveys · 1 year
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survey #117
(taken february 21st; uploading surveys taken while gone)
Have you ever sat under a bridge? Yes, when fishing with Dad.
Do you ever go fishing or do you find it to be cruel? ^ lol what a coincidence. If you're fishing for food, I'm fine with it, but fishing solely for fun is absolutely something I find cruel nowadays. You are terrifying the life out of and damaging that animal and putting it back in the dirty water with an open wound. I'm not gonna lie and say I wouldn't still go if Dad asked me to because that was our "thing" growing up, and we also barely ever see each other, so I would suck it up in that case.
Do you have trouble remembering people’s names? Absolutely yes. You're lucky as hell if I remember your name early.
What’s your favorite kind of tree? Wisteria. I adore weeping willows, too.
Do you like mozzarella sticks? No.
Do you share any of the same favorite bands as your parents/guardians? Ozzy is like, Mom's second-favorite artist after Metallica, I'm pretty sure. I know he's WAY up there. She likes loads other bands that I like too. Dad's favorite is Van Halen (that I know of), who I also really enjoy, but they're not a real "favorite."
Have you ever been in a wedding? I was a bridesmaid in my sister's, yes. I was supposed to be one in another sister's wedding as well, but at this time Mom was diagnosed with cancer and going through chemo so getting to Ohio was out of the question. I'm pretty sure Misty had the ceremony filmed for Mom; she is basically THE only mother she's ever had and desperately wanted her there, but she of course completely and entirely understood why it wasn't reasonable.
Who’s the last person’s birthday that you celebrated? What’d you do? My niece Emerson's. Per usual for my sister's kids' parties, we really just got together at her place with family and friends, chatted, ate, let the kids play.
Are your parents divorced? If so, when did it happen? Yeah. I was like, 17-ish.
Have you ever attended a bachelorette party? No.
What do you take pictures of most often? My cat, lol.
Have you ever gotten your period more than once in a month? I feel like this has happened once? Maybe?
What’s the smallest animal that you’re afraid of? Ticks, most likely. I am TERRIFIED of them.
What was your parents’ opinion on same-sex relationships? Mom is totally for them. I don't know about Dad, but just knowing who he is as a person/the general gist of how he thinks, he probably thinks it's unnatural or weird. He was perfectly decent to Sara when she visited though and he met her, and he knew we were dating.
What’s one alcoholic beverage that you do not enjoy? I've never tried a wine I enjoyed.
Have you ever had someone throw up on you before? No, I'd basically rather die.
Do you prefer pads or tampons, if you need them? I hate both honestly, but I semi-recently went back to pads.
How old did your oldest pet live to be? What kind of pet was it? I'm pretty sure that would be my dog Teddy. He made it to 13. He was a beagle/cocker spaniel mix.
What’s the best movie without a happy ending? The Boy in the Striped Pajamas comes to mind. It's sad as absolute hell, but the ending FUCKING haunts you. It shoves in your face the absolute evil humanity is capable of, and to never, ever let an event like the Holocaust happen EVER again.
What is something you think is actually better about today’s generation? I think each generation is getting better at being accepting of people they don't understand and even encouraging them to be themselves, even if they don't "get it." Also very worth mentioning is how mental health problems are being noticeably destigmatized.
What’s the worst episode of your favorite TV show? It's not that it's a bad episode story-wise or how it's portrayed or anything, but the MM episode where Flower dies just fucking destroyed me, and I'd probably still cry if I re-watched it.
Which fictional character do you think you’d be great friends with? Clearsight from Wings of Fire.
Do you have the same religious beliefs as your parents? Absolutely not. Both are Christians, while I quite seriously abhor religion.
What’s your favorite Led Zeppelin song? "Kashmir" is fucking iconic.
Who would you call a lyrical genius? Otep Shamaya.
Who supports you financially? Mostly Mom, but also my dad.
Who knows the most about you (besides yourself)? Mom, maybe? Though there are types of things I don't share with her that I do with select others.
Would you be/are you a good role model to a younger sibling? I know I'm not. No one would ever guess Nicole is my "little" sister given how successful, independent, and capable she is. It kinda hit me like a meteor recently how I don't think I've ever heard either of my sisters say anything along the lines of them being proud of me or anything, ever. I very genuinely think I'm embarrassing to both of them.
Who was the last non-relative woman you spoke to in person? A lady at the social security office.
What’s a topic you’ve drastically changed your opinion on? A metric shit-ton of things truly, but one of the strongest and most drastic is my view on gay rights. I used to be a homophobic/transphobic Christian, and now I very sincerely wish I could strangle that bitch. I am VERY pro-LGBTQ+ now and have been for many years.
How many bedrooms does your house have? TECHNICALLY three, but the extra bedroom is this spare kind of "office" room I have where I sit at the computer.
Have you ever experienced sleep paralysis? No, and let's PLEASE keep it that way. That shit sounds terrifying.
Does the thought of having wrinkles when you’re older upset you? Not really, I mean, literally every single person who lives a truly full life gets there... I don't WANT them, but knowing I will doesn't upset me.
Do you know anyone who’s struggling with addiction? Yes. I mean all things considered, I myself am. Granted, I'm not addicted to anything that is in itself dangerous, like drugs or alcohol or self-harm, but the severity of how reliant I am on technology/the Internet is ABSOLUTELY an addiction and it severely does control my life.
Are any other members of your household home right now? Mom's home, yeah.
Were you upset when you found out certain things weren’t real? (santa, tooth fairy...) Not *upset*, no. By the time I learned those things weren't real, I'd totally suspected it. Of course I wanted them to be real, 'cuz I mean what kid DOESN'T want to believe in fun, magical stuff like that, but I wasn't upset at all.
Name something you’re proud of. Brag a little bit. I really am proud of myself for how dedicated I'm being in job-hunting. It feels FUCKING GOOD to FINALLY be in a place where I feel like if I find the right conditions, I really can work. I'm checking the Indeed website every single day, searching various terms or job titles that I think might bring up something worth investigating, and I refuse to stop until I find something.
Where would you like to go right now? I miss Girt already lol, I wish he was here or I was at his place, but he's working today. He stayed late last night (and it takes him around 30 minutes to get home) so he's probably a zombie right now.
Do you pay any attention to celebrity drama? Uh no, I could NOT care less.
What’s been an embarrassing phase you went through? If the "s0 raNdOM XDDD!!!!" pre-teen Brittany manifested as her own human being, I would LITERALLY set out on a quest to murder her and bury her miles underground lmfao
What’s the ugliest animal in your opinion? Probably like, the blobfish lmao.
What about cutest? Meerkats. Call it a bias, but COME ON, they're foot-tall little furry dudes with big eyes and make cute noises and can stand on their hind legs thinkin' they're all big 'n' shit, I FUCKING love them.
Are you good at math? No, and I've gotten worse and worse the older I've gotten. Whenever numbers are involved in honestly like, anything, I just CANNOT interpret information. Like you can explain and explain and explain, and I'm just NOT going to understand. It's honestly extremely embarrassing, just how bad my ability to understand math is.
Have you given any thought about what the Christian god looks like? How they think their devil looks. :^)
What’s your most used emojis? Most likely the sobbing one. I use it for both obviously sad cases but probably even more so like the "crying from laughing" kind of way.
Who’s one of the most talented people you know? What are they talented at? That's... so hard, picking just one. I absolutely consider Tez very high on this list, given his fantastic art skills, in a serious plethora of forms. I also think he's a very strong writer with FANTASTIC character-building skills.
Have you ever experienced a medical emergency? Yes. Off the top of my head, a concussion and a cold medicine overdose. I don't THINK breaking my wrist was a real medical emergency, like I obviously wasn't dying or at any serious, life-threatening risk.
Are you muscular? Uh, NO.
Do you have one of those removable hand-held shower heads? Yes; they're kinda mandatory for me anyway, using a shower chair. Even when I could comfortably shower standing up though, I very much preferred when you could remove them because I found it much easier to thoroughly get soap off everywhere.
How many burners does your stove have? Four.
When you go to a restaurant, do you prefer to sit at a booth or a table? Booth.
Has your car ever been broken into? No.
What genre was the last song you listened to? Who provided the vocals? Uh Asking Alexandria is some kind of heavier metal, but the song is a Nine Inch Nails cover, and I have no idea what you'd consider the genre of the OG bc I don't really listen to or like that band. The singer of Asking Alexandria at the time was Danny Worsnop, apparently.
Do you have any medical appointments coming up anytime soon? Always, honestly... I know I'm fucking finally seeing an endocrinologist soon, I think next month or the one after.
Have you heard anyone singing today, or has anyone sung in your presence? Besides listening to music, no, I don't think so.
What food or drinks makes your teeth hurt? Ice cream absolutely can.
Who did you last hold hands with? Girt.
Do you have a loud or more soft laugh? I'm a fucking hyena stg
Is there anyone who makes you smile no matter what mood you’re in? Girt seriously can.
Have you ever stargazed with someone? Kinda, I guess.
Are there any things coming up that you have to travel for? Uhhhh not that I know of. I know Mom wants to go back up to New York, but it's looking like she MIGHT be reconciling with and seeing her absolute rancid shitbag of a brother that nearly tore the family apart after their mom died, and I told her I fucking REFUSE to go if we're staying at his house. I won't even visit that fucking house, ever again. He is no family of mine. My mom is way more forgiving than I am, but what's wild is it's not like Rob has changed at all... The law just squeezed him into doing what he had to do if he didn't want to go to jail. Her other brother Bill, who REALLY dealt with Rob and his catastrophic bullshit, is on the same page as me; he refuses to call him family ever again. I'll stay with HIS family if we go up there. I absolutely adore his wife and want to see her again anyway.
What’s one of your biggest accomplishments today? I actually very thoroughly did my PT exercises. More than I usually do, with more focus, and the appropriate number of sets. I FELT it. I'm getting better about doing them as time passes; it's just been a challenge to remember them and solidify them into my routine.
What was the name of the main character in the last book you read? In the one I'm currently in the process of reading, his name is Turtle.
What was the last pill you took? Ibuprofen. I had a headache. Probably from staying up all night last night and only allowing myself to sleep like, 2-3 hours in the morning...
If you were a rockstar, what color guitar would you have? Ehhhh maybe black, but with a cool design or texture on it.
What are three other names you like that start with the same letter as your name? Uhhh Bianca, Bella, and uh... Belle? Not many come to mind that I really love.
Have you ever met a Jason that you didn’t like? A Jason scarred me for life, lmfao, but I don't not like him.
What was the name of the person who bullied you the most in high school? Just Rachel, really. But that was brief... ish.
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ssadumba55 · 3 years
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Damsel In Distress (Velma Dinkley X Reader)
Request: how about something with Velma where the gang is investigating some odd happenings at an abandoned amusement park? everyone splits into pairs to explore and she and the reader are paired together, and they eventually end up with the culprit chasing them and reader gets really protective of her. the gang catches the guy but Velma asks why reader was being so defensive, and reader accidentally blurts out that they love her and don't know what they'd do if anything ever happened to her. thanks! :)
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“Alright, everyone! Let’s split up and look for clues!”
There was a loud groan from Shaggy and Scooby as the blond male said his signature line. Most of the group didn’t mind being split up, but the two ‘fraidy cats almost always ended up with the monster chasing them. Splitting up was the worst part of investigating mysteries for them by far.
“Don’t worry guys, the sooner the monster chases you, the sooner we can get out of this creepy place,” you grinned, hands on your hips. There was nothing like a good mystery for you and ever since you’d run into the gang, they’d become more frequent. Something that Shaggy and Scooby also liked to complain about.
Shaggy crossed his arms over his chest in a show of annoyance, but didn’t say anything else as Fred began splitting the six of you into teams.
“I’ll go with Daphne to check out that creepy coaster Scooby thought he saw something earlier, Velma, (Y/n), why don’t you two head over there?” Fred jerked his thumb in the direction of the other side of the abandoned amusement park. There weren’t many structures still standing in that part of the park, but there was an antique carousel that had you intrigued.
There was something about carousels you loved, and even better, this was a mysterious carousel!
“Like perfect! Scoob and I will check out the abandoned restaurant!” Shaggy volunteered himself. If there was one thing that could get the two reluctant members moving, it was food. Even possibly stale food.
The group split up into the three teams, each wandering off in their own direction. Even though the lot of you knew this would only last for a short while, until Shaggy and Scooby were inevitably chased out of their food comas by some monster.
“You think those kids really saw a monster out here?” You asked Velma, climbing onto the abandoned carousel and moving through the horses with practiced ease. Something about the carousel made you nostalgic, even though you hadn’t really rode them much as a kid. Maybe it was the amusement park as a whole that was making you nostalgic.
You went to plenty of those as a kid.
Velma adjusted her glasses, looking up from her laptop screen with an indignant snort. “You and I both know that monsters don’t exist, (Y/n).”
You shrugged. She was right. In all the time you’d been mystery hunting together, not one had turned out to be a real monster. It was always just some weirdo in a costume. You supposed in a way that was a cruel irony, humans were after all the biggest monsters out there.
Velma went back to studying her laptop screen, she carried that thing everywhere. Even, apparently, abandoned amusement parks. You took the time while she was distracted to study her.
A lot of people would argue that she wasn’t really attractive, but you begged to differ. Sure, she didn’t dress up like Daphne or put on loads of makeup, but the brunette was charming in her own way. She was the smartest in the gang, even smarter than you. You had always loved the way her eyes lit up when she was onto something, how excited she got when she realized she’d solved the mystery.
She was usually the first one too, because she was so smart.
Yeah, okay. So maybe, just maybe you had a crush on Velma Dinkley, but what’s so bad about that? She’s attractive! Her hair is really nice and her eyes shine so bright behind those glasses and the freckles…
“(Y/n)? Are you listening to me?” Her voice shocked you back to reality. Oh god, had she been telling you important information pertaining to the case? And had you missed it because you were too busy thinking about her freckles?
You opened your mouth to respond, already trying to form an excuse for why you hadn’t been paying attention when a massive shadow formed behind Velma. It was huge, twice or maybe even three times the size of you both, with glowing red eyes and long snaking arms that were reaching….
Reaching for Velma!
There was no hesitation from you, grabbing her hand and pulling her towards you, just out of reach of the monster. The long limbs collided grasping onto nothing but thin air, as for Velma she was startled and dropped her laptop. She made a move to go back and grab it but you pulled on her hand, leading her away from the monster.
“No time! We can circle back and grab it later!” You called over your shoulder, eager to put distance between you and Velma and whatever that thing was. Admittedly, you felt foolish as you ran from the exact thing you’d all been searching for since you’d got here. You’d never taken yourself for a runner, which was a good thing because Shaggy and Scooby pretty much cornered the market for that in the small group dynamic you all shared.
Still, here you were running. It was so out of character you almost wanted to turn around and go back. But you needed to keep Velma safe, that was the top priority.
The yells and screams you and your friend were making as you ran must’ve alerted the rest of the group. Fred, Daphne, Shaggy and Scooby came running (of course, once they saw the monster, Shaggy and Scooby quickly joined you).
There was a lot of panicked screaming and yelling, at one point Velma and Shaggy ran smack into each other, causing her glasses to fall. She immediately went down for them, bringing you down with her because your hands were still intertwined. You grabbed her glasses and she gratefully put them back on, the two of you laying breathless on the ground as the sounds of Scooby, Shaggy, Daphne and Fred’s panicked voices filled the air around you.
It was unspoken that neither of you wanted to move. So you just waited until the yelling stopped, then the two of you climbed to your feet and walked over to where Fred had successfully managed to catch the monster.
“Like, what’s with the hands? You guys aren’t still scared of the monster are you? Fred’s got it all tied up!” Shaggy pointed to you and Velma’s joined fingers. Immediately, the two of you flushed and separated.
In order to distract the group from the awkwardness, Velma stepped forward and unmasked the culprit. Who turned out to be the two kids who had told you guys about the amusement park. They explained their plan to the group, but you were barely paying attention.
“We would’ve gotten away with it too, if it weren’t for your meddling!” The taller boy huffed after realizing they’d been caught and would be in a lot of trouble for this.
The gang made their way back to the Mystery Machine. Another successful mystery in the bag, Shaggy and Scooby are furthest ahead, ready to get back to their precious Scooby Snacks. Not far behind them, Daphne and Fred walk, laughing to each other about something you can’t hear.
You and Velma bring up the far rear, walking a ways behind everyone else.
“Were you doing that on purpose?” She asked as the two of you walked, finally breaking the slightly tense silence between the two of you. It had settled there after Shaggy had pointed out your hands and hadn’t left the entire time.
You were slightly confused about what she was talking about, then realized. “Oh! The hands- no. I’m sorry, I forgot we were-”
“Not that, (Y/n). You were purposely shielding me from the monster back there,” as the two of you walked by the carousel, she bent down to pick up and dust off her laptop that had been laying there forgotten the entire time, “I don’t know if you know this, but I’m not some damsel in distress. I can handle my own out here, I’ve been doing this a long time, you know.”
You were taken aback by her words. Of course you knew Velma could handle her own, that was one of the reasons you liked her so much. She was the smartest person in the room and she knew it, there was nothing that could get past her. She was also the toughest, not tough in the way Fred was but she was definitely her own kind of tough.
“I know that, I didn’t mean anything by it… I-”
“You don’t take me seriously.” She put the words in your mouth and you felt your face heat up, that was not what you had meant at all!
“Velma, no, I-”
“Then why don’t you do the same thing for Daphne. Or Fred. Or Shaggy.” She crossed her arms over her chest. She was sure she had you figured out, so sure she had gotten to the bottom of this mystery. You almost wanted to agree with her just so you could see that light shine in her eyes as she pulled you back to the van to tell everyone else. Then they’d all never let you live it down.
As you were thinking this through, she took it as an opportunity to keep on rambling. You were tired, it had been a long night. It’d surely be an even longer night, because you probably wouldn’t be stopping again any time soon and Shaggy and Scooby would be hyped up on Scooby Snacks-
“I LOVE YOU, VELMA DINKLEY!”
You cut her rambling off, the words echoing through the abandoned amusement park. Up ahead, Fred, Daphne, Shaggy and Scooby froze, turning back to look at the two of you.
For once, Velma was speechless, so you decided to continue.
“And I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself if I let something happen to you. I know we just met less than a year ago and I know that mystery hunting isn’t a very romantic setting, but despite that I fell in love with you. You’re right, it’s different when Shaggy is being chased by the monster, because I don’t love him. If something happened to you, my world would shatter, it would be MY fault. If something happens to Shaggy that’s just another day out mystery hunting.”
Tears were burning your eyes, threatening to fall. There she had made you say it. She had made you say it all.
You didn’t even realize your hands were balled into fists at your sides until something nudged one of them and you realized Scooby had made his way back to the two of you. He’d seen you distressed and was offering his comfort. You placed your hand on his head to let him know you were okay.
“I had no idea,” the girl dressed in orange said softly from across you.
The amusement park was dead silent. Not even the other members of the team dared to speak and risk another outburst.
After a few tense moments, where everything you’d said hung weightily in the silence, Velma reached out her hand and took the empty hand of yours that wasn’t occupied with petting Scooby. She smiled softly, squeezing it gently.
“I’m sorry you thought that I thought you were a damsel in distress,” you smiled awkwardly as the two of you walked to join the rest of the gang, Scooby at your side.
“I’m sorry I thought you thought I was a damsel in distress,” she smiled guiltily, “I should’ve had more faith in you.”
As the two of you approached the other three, Daphne rolled her eyes.
“Will you two just kiss and make up already, we need to get back on the road or we’re going to miss that show Fred got us tickets to!”
“We can’t miss that! Like, I hear the food there is out of this world!”
“Reah, rout rof rhis rorld!”
You felt your face heat up, looking over at Velma. She shrugged and leaned over. Inches from your face, she stopped leaning forward quickly and pecking your cheek before bolting the rest of the distance to the Mystery Machine. Fred and Daphne climbed in the front as you pushed Shaggy out of the way to follow Velma in.
“Hey! That wasn’t a real kiss! You owe me another one!”
“(Y/n), we’re dating you can have as many as you want.”
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therealvinelle · 3 years
Note
You or The Muffin made a post on your dream cast(s), but I’m not really familiar with those references/actors (with the exception of Bowie and Jean Claude Van Damme and Clint Eastwood I think you mentioned). Is there anyone you would choose that’s a little more recent (80s-present)?
Our dream cast.
Our dream voice cast, for those interested.
Fun fact, both those posts were composed together, so yeah we share these opinions. We composed this one together as well.
Keep in mind that this list is... well it's for Twilight as I would make it. Which means that of course we’re casting a Didyme, nevermind that she’s been dead for thousands of years, but Denali who?
And once again we’re disrupting the time-space continuum and casting big name actors you’ve definitely heard about as they were ten, twenty, or thirty years ago.
Alright, so newer and shinier Twilight fancast, this time with a few alternatives because decisions are hard:
Alice: ... Audrey Hepburn.
I'm sorry. I tried. I tried to be modern, but I got to Alice and originally we thought Saoirse Ronan, appearances be damned because Ronan is a great actress, only to realize Ronan should be Renesmée.
So we're back to the dream cast. Audrey Hepburn was a tiny, pixie-like, yet ridiculously beautiful woman. Like Alice, her growth was stunted due to prolonged starvation during the War, so she's the perfect casting in a way no modern Western actress is going to be. She was also an amazing actress, just absolutely magnetic each time she graced the screen. She would be a fantastic Alice.
Aro: A young Tom Cruise.
Cruise is an absurdly beautiful man, and at 173 cm he is the right stature as I could never cast a tall actor for Aro. He's a very good actor, so I'm sure he'd be up for it. Also, he'd look great with chalky petrified vampire makeup on. He'd pull it off. I want to see this.
Optionally: Cate Blanchett
Yes, she's a woman. But that's what acting is all about, you play someone you're not. It's more a thing in theatre than in film that men can play women and women can play men, but I say fuck the rules, we're doing it theatre style. And Blanchett absolutely have that enigmatic, ethereal, otherworldly quality I'd want for Aro.
Bella: A young Sarah Michelle Gellar
Gellar is a petite beauty, she is spunky yet adorable, and very charming, the people of Forks and the Cullens would very believably gravitate towards her. Most importantly she has the acting chops to pull it off. She would portray an amazing Bella.
Caius: Daniel Craig
The man is the right age, he's someone you don't mess with. Craig has perhaps a touch too charismatic, but he's good enough that I'm hopeful he could tune it down.
Carlisle: A young Leonardo DiCaprio
DiCaprio is ridiculously attractive and has a bad case of The Babyface™. Watching him try to convince people that he’s 30 years old and has adult kids would be absolutely hilarious, and very faithful to the books. He’s a talented actor, too, very versatile.
Optionally: David Tennant
Tennant doesn't look the part, he is handsome but handsome in that particular way when flawed features come together handsomely. He does however have the perfect charm, gravitas, and energy for the character, so I think he could make a great Carlisle. 
This is where the magic of movie adaptions come in - you’re not going to be able to translate directly from text to screen, that’s impossible. If you embrace that and make some bold choices, you stand to make a truly spectacular adaption. One of the reasons why the Twilight films failed is that they were too faithful to the books while failing to understand the spirit of them, whereas the TV miniseries adaption of His Dark Materials switched a lot of things up and is absolutely amazing for it.
Demetri: Robert Downey Jr.
Ridiculously charismatic and talented actors cast in bit parts and making them shine is a passion of mine.
Didyme: Cate Blanchett
Look, Blanchett had to be in this somehow, and we could think of no one more appropriate. She has too much enigma for Esme, is too womanly for Alice, and once the idea for Didyme was had it was hard to weasel out of. 
Cate Blanchett would be convincing as Aro's sister, as a woman who haunts her lover and brother even thousands of years after her passing, an enigmatic and divine woman who can never be forgotten.
Also she's my fancast for her brother, so this works out quite nicely. Why cast someone who merely looks like Aro’s actor when you can just cast the same actor.
Edward: A young Johnny Depp
Very few men are otherworldly beautiful. There are countless handsome men, yes, and many beautiful ones, but Depp has extreme and symmetrical features that come together beautifully. Robert Pattinson does too, for the record, so what makes me prefer Depp is the fact that he is an incredible actor. Pattinson is good, but Depp is the kind of talent who can power through even the worst scripts, give him nothing and he will give you the world. He’s on Al Pacino’s level, this man can salvage anything.
Emmett: Terry Crews
Terry Crews is a mountain of a man, he's massive. He'd nail Emmett's infectious cheer, too. He has a very symmetrical and attractive face that follows the golden ratio beautifully, so I could buy him being a vampire.
Esme: Anne Hathaway ten years ago. Ref one, ref two.
She’s out of this world beautiful and has the perfect Esme aesthetic. Hands down best Esme. The fact that she’s a very good actress helps.
Felix: Dwayne “The Rock” Johnson
He’s got the physique for the part and would be absolutely menacing.
James: Brad Pitt
Brad Pitt is a character actor who tragically got lost in the blockbuster scene. He’s good, he deserves cool parts. So yeah, Pitt as James. I think he’d be absolutely amazing for the part, it’d be the kind of performance where you can tell the actor was enjoying every second on set.
Jane and Alec: Child Dakota Fanning
Fanning was a good choice for Jane, it's just that she was slightly too old when she was cast (and they made her look even older!) and the screenwriters had written a different character than the one in the books (and not for the better - I’m all for changing things in an adaption! But, well, she was Marvel levels of bad villain). And as Alec is a bit part and supposed to be nearly identical to her, I’d just have Fanning play him as well.
Jasper: Clint Eastwood, every time.
Optionally: feels like blasphemy to even have an “optionally”, but here we are. If you somehow haven’t heard of the guy, then… er. No, sorry, I’ve got nothing. Know that I tried, though.
Marcus: Tom Holland
The man has such babyface, which fits since Marcus is 19.
Just Tom Holland, sitting around, looking young and depressed.
Renata: A young Natalie Portman
Yes, yes, Renata is a bit part, I know that, but this is my Twilight we're casting for so I do what I want.
Portman fits the physical description for Renata, and I find that description to be relevant to her character. She's a teeny tiny woman charged with protecting the most important man in the world, and gifted with intouchability. Portman looks is beautiful enough to fit the bill for a Twilight vampire, and tiny enough to stress the absurdity of this 5′0″ woman being anybody’s bodyguard, nevermind Aro’s.
Renesmée: Child Saoirse Ronan (Though Adult Ronan works too, she’s my cast for the hybrid gremlin period.)
She was an extraordinarily talented child actress, and she’s beautiful while odd-looking. I could absolutely believe I was looking at an otherworldly hybrid when looking at her.
Mostly I think Renesmée is going to be a very hard part for anybody, as the given actor will be portraying one of the most ridiculed characters in recent pop culture. It’ll take major talent to get the audience to care about Renesmée, but I think Ronan, if anybody, could do it.
Rosalie: Margot Robbie ten years ago
She’s out of this world beautiful, and more importantly she’s an incredible actress. She would be incredible for the part.
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barbarianprncess · 3 years
Text
did you mean it?
read on ao3.
It’s a total of 3 significant events that led to this, her forehead knocked against his, breaths heavy and mingled, eyes wide and hearts bleeding.
It’s a total of 3 significant events that led to this, her forehead knocked against his, breaths heavy and mingled, eyes wide and hearts bleeding.
The first event isn’t really an event at all. It’s a prologue, necessary context to truly understand the monumentalism of this moment. It’s the memory of her eyes, piercing and reproachful, being the first thing that he saw after losing his mother. It’s shared trauma and oreos while they’re young and naive. It’s truces and training and growing up too soon together. It’s stargazing and stupid jokes saving eachother in every possible way. It's the culmination of the years Percy spent growing, learning, and being with Annabeth, and the unknown and therefore repressed feelings that came with it. Feelings are like the sea in that way, they don’t take well to being restrained. Percy has found that you cannot box in oceans or sentiments, they always find a way to spill over and out, with no regard for the destruction left in its wake.
The second event is Dionysus deciding on a whim that the inhabitants of his camp are ‘uncultured pests’ and taking it upon himself to set up a field trip for campers to the Ancient Greek Cultural Center in New York. (Percy thinks it’s really just to distract kids that were still shaken up about the battle at camp and the losses it caused. But, Dionysus would never say so. He’s far too proud to admit to caring for the children he’s been assigned to look after.) Argus loaded all the kids he could fit into the strawberry vans, as Chiron listed all the reasons this was a terrible idea. As it turns out, his worries were in vain as miraculously, no monsters attacked, and no mortal asked too many questions. No, instead, the only hitch in his plan was the glaring inaccuracies of the Center sending Dionysus into a fit of rage. He ranted for so long, their 2 hour long field trip ended up lasting until the place closed.
Event the third is the ridiculously long line leading to the mens room at the rundown gas station they’ve stopped at, causing Percy to traipse into the woods, deep enough to know that no one other than the squirrels were watching, and pee there. Unbeknownst to him, Annabeth had decided to take a quick walk in the forest as well, (in the opposite direction of his peeing endeavor) with the purpose of clearing her head. Both returned to the parking lot after 10 minutes, with no truck in sight. The gas station lights are turned off on the inside and the door sign has switched decidedly to closed. They look at each other in disbelief.
“Percy?”
“Yeah?”
“Uh...did they…”    
“They didn’t. They wouldn’t.”
“I think they would.”
“They would never-”
“I have pretty solid evidence to the contrary.” Annabeth deadpans, casually letting her hair loose and hopping on top of the miniature gas machine for motorcycles.
“But, how did-”
“No Argus.” Which means, no all-seeing eyes to double check the headcount. Percy begins to pace.
“Okay, but-”
“Two trucks.” Both of which are probably assuming Percy and Annabeth are on the other.
“Oh.”
“Yeah.”
“Oh, gods.”
“Leave them out of this.”
“Those fuckers.”
“Which ones?” She asks. He looks up and she’s fighting a smile. He pointedly doesn’t notice the way her mouth curls up, or the way her hair falls around her shoulders and down her back, or how pretty she looks lit up by the neon red lights of the gas stations prices, which apparently doesn’t turn off when they close.
“Do you know something I don’t?”
“I know lots of things you don’t.”
“Ha-ha. I mean about how to get out of here.”
“Ohhhhh, let me think.” She wrinkles her nose in faux concentration, tilting her chin up towards  the sky. Percy is too annoyed to think it’s adorable. “Nope, not a clue.”
“Your phone?”
“Left it on the truck.”
“Iris message?”
“Percy, it’s dark as shit.” The laughter she’s been holding in comes pouring out. Nevermind that he feels his chest sigh in relief at hearing it for the first time since their quest, this is serious.
“You’re laughing.”
“Just a little.”
“You’re telling me, you don’t have a brilliant plan to get us on a truck.”
“Yes.”
“So, we’re stuck here.”
“Yes.”
“And you’re laughing?”
“You’re just really funny when you’re stressed.” She giggles. He can’t remember the last time she giggled. He missed it. He hates her.
“Oh my gods.”
“Okay, okay, look, I’m sorry. We’re halfway to camp right?” He nods. “I’m sure they’ll figure out we’re missing before they get all the way back to camp, but let's say, worst case scenario, they don’t-”
“Not helping-”
“And they make it the rest of the way back to camp. It took us four hours to get to the center, which means camp is two hours away, so if they make it the two hours back to camp before they realize we’re missing, and they drive back up-”
“C’mon ‘Beth, you know I suck at math.”
“We’re stuck here for five hours at most.”
“Five hours?”
“And that's if no passing cars let us use their phones to hurry the process up.”
“Five hours.”
She’s laughing again. “Seriously, what is so funny?”
“It’s just-” Her cheeks are red and she’s very poorly attempting to suppress her smile. “You’ve been calm in so many life or death situations, and being stuck at a gas station is what finally breaks through.”
“It’s nighttime.” She stares at him for a moment and then she’s laughing again, full bodied real laughter, and he's laughing too.
And it’s as if this gas station became their own personal Ogygia, an oasis, a resting place for them to be stupid kids again. And they don’t talk about the battle, or Rachel, or the volcano, or any of the million things set on tearing them apart. They talked about his mom getting serious about his new boyfriend, about Tyson’s underwater adventures and Grover’s searching shenanigans.
They smack talk with no real heat about who the better fighter is (Oh please, Seaweed Brain, I've been training since before you could tie your own shoes.), and argue about which ancient hero had the greatest journey (Hercules, are you kidding? Did you even read the myth?). They break into the gas station for snacks (What the fuck, Annabeth, where’d you learn to pick a lock? No, I wouldn’t prefer you break the glass, you psycho. Oh my gods, can you really break the glass?), and dissolve into giggles as they try to fit five drachma into the cash register.
They end up back outside sitting on the gas machines facing one another from three feet away.
“Your mom called me the other day.”
Percy, who’d been lazily squinting up at the murky sky, searching for any sign of stars, whipped his head to look at her. “What?”
“She called me on the phone. We talked for a bit. She said she wanted to make sure I was alright.”
“That sounds like something she would do.” He sighs and hops down from the machine, turning away from her, hoping to hide his blush from the dim light. “She cornered me on one of my off weekends, asked what was going on with us.”
“Oh.” He hears the shifting of fabric and assumes she followed him in sliding off the gas machine.
“Yeah.” It’s silent for a long time before she responds.
“What did you say?” She asks, her voice smaller than it was moments ago. He hears her scratching at the flat metal top of the machine. “When she asked, what did you say?”
He runs his finger through his hair, and one gets caught in a particularly large snarl. “Doesn’t matter.”
“It matters to me.” She whispers and gods he’s terrified but he really doesn’t have a choice when her voice wavers like that. Her words shake and every ounce of his being tells him to do whatever it takes to soothe it.
“I said we were fighting. That there wasn’t one sole reason for it, just a bunch of little reasons. I told her that I scared you when I….went away for two weeks last summer. And that you didn’t like bringing Rachel on your quest. I told her that we….. disagree about how to best handle Luke. That I probably wanted to protect you more than I wanted to listen to you.” She laughs softly and he blames what he says next on her laugh. It is the catalyst for everything that follows.
“I told her that we’d be okay. Because no matter what happens I’m always gonna love you.”
He hears her breath catch. He doesn’t have to look back to know she’s turned to face him fully. “Did you mean it?” She calls. He doesn’t answer. The words haven’t caught in his throat, they’ve spontaneously combusted in his vocal chords and he doesn’t think he’ll ever speak again.
The sound of gravel crunching gets closer until suddenly she's beside him, and he didn’t tell his torso to twist toward her, he thinks she might just be his center of gravity.
“Did you mean it?”
She’s looking up at him, and her hair smells like lemons, and her cheeks are pink, and her eyelashes go on for miles, and her sunspots are better than stars. And it’s as if she pulls the words right out of him, he’s hypnotized by everything about her.
“Of course I meant it.”
She exhales and closes her eyes and while he mourns the loss of the sight, his body moves on it’s own accord again and he’s edging closer and closer and she opens her eyes and here they are.
Their noses brush, and this time he closes his eyes, and their noses brush just so, and…
Whoa.
He was wrong, it wasn't just those three significant events that to her forehead knocked against his, breaths heavy and mingled, eyes wide and hearts positively bleeding. It’s clear he’s been waiting his entire life for this moment at this shitty gas station.
Waiting for this. Waiting for her.  
They kiss for a moment or an eternity, and they fit. His hands are on her hips and hers clutch at his shirt before sliding up to his throat, and it’s like his soul is whispering, oh there you are.
And then she’s pulling back, so she has just enough space to shake her head without disconnecting from his forehead.
She's breathless when she whispers, “This is a bad idea.”
His hands trail up and down her forearm of their own accord, and when he whispers back he’s breathless too. “Yeah, really bad idea.”
Her hands slide up from his chest to his shoulders, and then she’s kissing him again, with purpose, and he’s kissing back like his life depends on it because he thinks it might, thinks if he lets go of her he’d die on the spot.
It seems his theory might get tested when she pulls back again just far enough to whisper against his lips, “Is it always like that?”
He kisses her again, once, twice, because he can’t help it and whispers back, “I don’t know, you were my first kiss.”
He’d released any serious hold he had on her the moment she hesitated, but then she’s rocking back up to meet him halfway and his entire body thinks thank the gods. He actually sighs his relief into her mouth, as his hands desperately reach for her face, some fingers tangling in her hair, and their lips are magnets, opposites that don’t have a choice but to pull together. Despite how much he wants to keep doing this forever, he has to tell her.
“I don’t wanna lose you, again.” He means not ever, but he figures she understands the severity in his voice. She’s running her hand through his hair, and his slide up and down her back, and she knocks her nose against his as she answers, “I know, me either. I’m confused, this is confusing me.” And she tilts her chin just so, like she did a million years ago, and this time he kisses her.
They kiss for an infinity, he gets to taste her laughter when she giggles at the absurdness of it all, and it’s better than ambrosia. He kisses her until he doesn’t know anything else, until his entire universe is Annabeth Chase, with her cheeks and her curls and her lips. She is everything.
And then headlights penetrate their universe, voices bring an end to their infinity, and Chiron is speaking but it’s nothing, it’s all white noise because she’s no longer in his arms, and his center of gravity is being ripped away and he hears someone ask, “What’d you guys do?”
He’s still looking at her face when she answers, “You know, tried not to strangle each other mostly.”
But, she looks back before she turns all the way around and her gaze is charged and her lips quirk with the secret they share.
He is so screwed.
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purpleyellow · 3 years
Text
Hide & Seek
NCT 24th member / Dream 8th member
Bee’s Masterlist
“The two times Bee avoided Mark and the one she didn’t”
a/n: Feel free to share your thoughts with me. Requests are open!💛
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Growing up, in general, is a pain in the ass, and Bee isn't the happiest about having to deal with it. She doesn't know if it's because of how she was raised, or if it's just her personality, but the girl cannot see herself as an adult.
You see, adults are supposed to manage five different tasks, have most things thought out, and try to handle everything that comes their way. Bee, however, wants to lay in bed at every minor inconvenience and wishes she could freeze time so she can digest what's happening.
She can see herself as those five-year-olds who pout, cross their arms and look away when you tell them they can't have ice cream for dinner. Just like she can see Jeno as those parents who bribe their kids to eat vegetables with a false promise of going to the ice cream parlor on the next day.
"Why don't you want to talk to him?" Jeno whispers to Bee midst the chaos in the van. The first time she successfully avoids Mark is when the members are leaving SM after a long day of figuring out stuff for the comeback. Things were only starting to come together, and the boy knows that if Mark and the girl don't figure out everything soon it's not going to be a fun process.
"I don't have anything to say" She mumbles looking out of the window. Jeno turns her head back to him before continuing.
"Maybe Mark has something. Or maybe he has questions"
"Good for him" She simply states. "I already said everything, so I'm not helpful to talk to"
"And you stand by everything you said almost six months ago?" He asks while trying not to laugh "You didn't think about it anymore? There, you said it and moved on"
"Yes, I stand by everything" She lies. Bee has relived every single conversation she has had with or about Mark especially lately, cringing at some stuff she said, making up better answers, and overanalyzing every little word even if they don't mean a thing. Jeno probably knows she does that, yet she's not going to admit that easily, because admitting means confronting the situation.
"Just maybe think things are exponentially worst when you're trying to avoid the topic instead of solving it once and for all" The boy mumbles and she rolls her eyes. Mentally thanking the manager who happened to pull up next to their building
Trying to escape that conversation as fast as possible, Bee holds onto the back of the seat in front of her, accidentally hitting Jaemin in the head, and jumps past Jeno, who frows as he watches her bolt out of the vehicle.
The girl only stops as she reaches the elevator because of the light feeling on her hoodie pocket. She had left her phone behind, throwing away all the work she just put into getting to her room without speaking with anyone else.
Walking back to the van, Bee keeps her head down to avoid making eye contact and waves off Renjun after he shared a proverb about people skipping a step only to return two. Honestly, he might have said something different because the meaning flew right above her head.
The manager, who had also left the vehicle to check on something at their apartment, throws his keys for her to catch and tells her to be quick.
Bee goes straight to the seat she had occupied and starts searching through the openings where the phone might have fallen from, ultimately deciding it was somewhere on the floor. Patting away underneath hers and Jeno's seat, she finally moves on to the row in front of them, getting scared by a light and the muffled sound of her phone ringing.
Almost like a miracle, she was getting a call from someone who might have saved her a couple of seconds of searching. Reaching out for the device, her smug grin turns to a frown as the name "Minhyung from Canada" shines on her screen. A confused noise leaves her mouth while Bee gets up from the floor, though her debating over either answering or not doesn't go very far due to said Canadian standing at the door of the van.
"I thought if I helped out find it, you would finally listen to me," Mark says, ending the call. Though, it seems like that was the only line he had rehearsed because after it they both stay in awkward silence, making Bee look down at the device in her hands before raising an eyebrow.
"Well, my hand touched it before the call got connected?" She, not as confidently, lies again.
Mark shakes his head adamantly "No it didn't"
"Do you have eyes on the floor?" The girl frowns trying to make that topic last longer but he doesn't fall for it.
"Yunhee," He says in a disappointed tone which Bee copies by saying "Mark"
Mark raises one eyebrow feeling rather playfully. "Mark Oppa?" and she rolls her eyes while planing an escape route.
The boy seems to remember what he was there for and scratches his head, suddenly bringing back the awkward mood.
"We should clear everything up, you know" His tone is back to uncertain surprising her by the sudden change and Bee feels her hands clamming up. She knows he's waiting for her to show any kind of reaction but for some reason, she cannot have any.
"Guys, I have to get the car back to the building. You can keep the conversation going at either of your dorms" The manager pops his head through the driver’s seat before climbing it. Bee hands him the keys and both idols slowly step out of the vehicle. Her mind is still blankly looking for a way to avoid listening to whatever the older had to say when the man magically says something that fixes all of her problems. "Actually, Mark come here, it's about 127's schedule tomorrow, something came up"
And she doesn't stay to listen as she bolts to the elevator that's taking her to her safe and Mark-free bedroom.
☆☆☆
The second time Bee avoids him, or gets saved by another person, happened a few days after the van accident when she rapidly types on her phone while running to the end of the hallway where the SM elevators are.
The sound indicating the doors opening on her floor catches her attention and Bee doesn't have to fully look inside the place to see Mark standing on the edge, ready to walk out of it. Almost without thinking, her feet make her turn left into another hallway and she instinctively makes her way to the room she had visited many times before.
Bee knows for a fact Mark is supposed to go to the studio she had just left, so the fact she can hear him doing the same route she is, makes adrenaline pump inside of her and the girl starts sprinting as fast as she can.
She finds it stupid how her brain suddenly read that moment as her being chased by something dangerous, but there's not enough time to let her process the situation. Instead, Bee barges through the door of Kun's studio and throws herself onto the space between the empty couch and the wall.
Crouching so she's hidden by the armrest, Bee simply says "I'm not here" before staring at the floor in front of her, making the WayV leader question why he's even surprised at that point.
A series of three knocks on the door makes Kun get up and go greet whoever had the decency to announce themselves before interrupting his work like half of his groupmates usually do. Keeping the door half-opened, he's half surprised by Mark standing a little distance away while seemingly sorry to be in that position.
"Hyung, my bad for coming here. But I was wondering if I could talk to Bee" The boy says scratching his eyebrow.
"I mean, of course, you can" Kun starts making the girl's heart drop "I'm not sure why you're asking me, though. And next time you see her, let her know I also need to speak with her"
"Oh, yeah. Sure?" Mark says uncertainly tilting his head and closing his eyes. He stares inside the room through the small space Kun allowed and sighs defeated "Sorry about it, I'll just go"
Waving to the boy, Kun waits for him to walk a little before closing the door and turning to the hidden girl. "You know we could see the top of your head, right?"
"Wait, he saw me?" Bee asks with wide eyes, supporting her head on the armrest and the boy rolls his eyes "Probably yes. The kid is just too polite to say anything about it"
Standing up from the ground, the girl sits on the couch to wait for a little before leaving the room. Kun takes the opportunity to throw himself back on his chair and interrogates her.
"Why are you avoiding Mark?"
"I stole his charger so now he's mad" She pouts looking at the ground making the older scoff.
"I'm not buying anything that simple. Don't think I haven't noticed you've been almost daily in our dorm instead of hanging out with your unit. We like when you visit but it became a little weird when we're not even there yet you still go hide inside our apartment"
"It's too complicated" She sighs craning her neck to check the clock "And I'm actually late for something, so you'll have to deal with my stupid high school problems sometime later"
"They're only stupid because you thought over them a million times and began downplaying whatever they are. You can't do that forever and you know it"
"Confrontation makes me cry, so I'll try my best to keep pushing it away" Bee smiles like something uplifting was said and stands up "See you later"
"Sure, good luck with your date" Kun smirks turning back to the table and checking on his work. Noticing she hadn't actually left the door he lets out a chuckle "Chenle told me about it"
"It's not a date. Chenle was literally invited to tag along" Bee rolls her eyes and he shrugs despite not looking back at her.
"Sure, have fun"
☆☆☆
Ever since Mark first showed his confusion over how things were going, Bee tried really hard not to make the situation awkward for everyone. She didn't want them to be extra careful around her, nor feel like this big dramatic thing was going on between the group. And to lessen her worries, the dreamies seemed to act the same they had always been.
There is the fact she isn't talking to Mark, but much to her surprise, the girl realized she never really relied a lot on speaking to him. Pretending everything was fine became part of her routine for that two weeks.
But just like Kun caught onto her distancing herself, a bunch of staff members also did. The choreographer who first introduced them to the routine asked her a couple of times if everything was okay, and the producer noticed the idol was out of the room the time she was finished, not really mingling like the rest of the boys.
Those two didn't really say anything about it, since she was still getting work done. That isn't the same for the management team, who not only saw her change in behavior but feared how much of that would be noticeable in videos and the overall dynamic of what they had waiting for the comeback.
"Bee, can I talk to you for a second" One particular manager called for her as she was resting on the corner of the dance studio.
Bee gathered her things in a pile on the floor and got up to follow him out of the room. The man had worked with NCT for a really long time, but he wasn't the closest manager to her, nor had ever taken care of her individual schedules. She knew whatever he had to tell her wasn't going to be very good.
"We don't want to intrude on whatever is going on in your life. But the moment it affects the group I'm afraid somebody needs to step in" The man sighs walking slowly next to her "If you're not feeling well, or something happened to make you not want to be around the members you need to act on it, or tell somebody so no one gets suspicious of it"
"I'll make sure no one notices it" She mumbles playing with her ring and rolls her shoulders "It's not something to be worried about though. Nothing really happened"
"We'll some people started to point out on Jisung's graduation video that you're often really quiet. Considering your personality it's nothing out of the ordinary, but you can't afford it pilling up and fans talking about it. We're aware of what that saesang said last year and don't think the company forgets easily if more fans start thinking you don't want to be in the group or doesn't belong in it, it's going to be a big problem"
"More people are talking about it?" Bee glances once again to the ring Renjun made her wear.
"It's a small number so far, but there are those who think that by Mark coming back and you being a little quieter, your place might be in another unit," He notices her gaze turning down and places a hand on her shoulder"Don't stress over it right now, just dedicate yourself a little more to the group and show you have a place in it. It should pass after some time"
Patting her, he reminds her to 'go back to normal before heading back to his work. Bee feels a slight headache creeping in and sneaks into a smaller room dedicated to vocal training, where she drops her body on a chair and closes her eyes to either sleep or try to gather some courage and face everything she has avoided so far.
The girl ends up doing neither because a few seconds pass and Mark pushes his head inside the room.
"Can we talk now?" He asks and without any energy left, Bee nods to the chair next to her for him to sit.
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simoviacourt · 3 years
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Channel 6 studios, outskirts of Zonneminster, late August - roughly three months have passed
*NOTE: this is a VERY long and text-heavy post discussing the current Simovian political situation, consider yourself warned*
Arturo: Good evening to our viewers and of course to our amazing studio audience! Welcome to another evening with The Talk! Tonight we’re going to dive into all the latest news of the week and with me around the table I have our wonderful guests for the night...
Next
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Arturo: (continued) First, let me present to you Anne Kortehof, the controversial yet always impeccably stylish Queen of Simstagram!
Anne: Thank you Arturo, happy to be here tonight!
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Arturo: We also have Simovia’s national pride and the newly minted captain of our national football team… Elmer De Marees! What do you think, will we bring home the world championship this year?
Elmer: We’ve got some tough opponents but the team and I will be giving it our best!
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Arturo: Great to hear, it really has been too long! Then, I’m happy to introduce to you a woman I greatly admire - Iza Laan, the founder of the political think tank “Future Solutions” and the youngest woman to appear on the cover of Money Monthly! Welcome!
Iza: Thanks, Arturo, it’s a pleasure!
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Arturo: And finally, my very good friend and a man whom we all adore - Nandu Talkar!
(huge applause from the audience)
Nandu: Thanks Ar, great to be here, as always! 
Arturo: Now, a little bird told me that you might have some new songs to share with us later tonight…
Nandu: Only if you behave…
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(audience laughs)
Arturo: I’m sure I have no idea what you mean! But, first, let’s dive into this week’s headlines...
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Arturo: (continued) Well, now that the summer is over, our newly elected parliament is in session, with a new prime minister! On Monday Her Royal Majesty officially took Mr Caan’s pledge of fealty and opened the parliament for the year...
(booing from the audience)
Arturo: Ah, it would seem that not everyone has much love for the Prime Minister..
Anne: Or they don’t see why a man should have to kneel in front of a useless woman…
Nandu: Oh wow, are we even five minutes in?
Iza: Well, I think that’s the last time we will see that man kneeling in front of anyone. 
Arturo: Not a fan of Mr Caan’s, Iza?
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Iza: Not exactly, no, though I know Anne here adores the man. 
Anne: Me and half the country.
Iza: Which still seems ludicrous to me. But, populists will always have their appeal, I suppose. 
Anne: If by populist you mean that he isn’t afraid to go against the mainstream and say things as they are, then yeah, there’s definitely an appeal. Finally we have a prime minister who won’t play the same old political games that all the others have. Someone who will put Simovian interests first. 
Iza: And what does that even mean? He’d close our borders and end all international collaboration...
Anne: Which brought us to war once already and how well did that work out for us.
(cheers from the audience)
Iza: International collaboration also has created thousands of new jobs and there are countless businesses that rely on the good relations that the Queen works hard to foster. 
Anne: Ah yes, you’re one of those!
Iza: I beg your pardon?
Anne: Monarchists… you lot always -- 
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Arturo: Hey hey loving the exchange of views but let’s keep it civil!
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Elmer: This is exactly why I avoid these conversations.
Nandu: You and me both…
Iza: Easy for you both, with all respect. De Marees, doesn’t your grandfather sit in the House of Lords? 
Elmer: Yes, but…
Anne: The elite couldn't care less about the dealings of this country as long as they’re comfortable. 
Nandu: (laughs) Ha, that’s the first time someone has ever counted me among the elite! 
Anne: Well you mingle with them often enough… aren’t you friends with the Queen? 
Nandu: I’ve even never had the pleasure to meet Her Royal Majesty. 
Anne: Well, Prince Andrew then?
Nandu: I have met His Royal Highness and attended events with him, yes… but whether we’re friends, hard to say. He’s a nice guy, though, excellent company. But that doesn’t make me one of this “elite” you keep mentioning on your socials. I’ve worked hard to get where I am today. 
Iza: Yet your current position allows you to claim this apolitical stance.
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Nandu: Just because I don’t like talking about politics doesn’t mean I don’t care or vote, for that matter. I’m not clueless. My family still can’t vote in this country and though I was born here and grew up here, I doubt Mr Caan and his party would consider me Simovian. 
Anne: That’s not true, he has nothing against new Simovians. 
Nandu: As opposed to what? The old Simovians? How many generations does it take to belong to that group?
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Iza: And that’s just one of the reasons that I’m not a fan of Mr Caan, as you put it Arturo. His rhetoric is divisive at best and blatantly xenophobic at worst. And now he is the prime minister. I’m actually not a monarchist, there are so many things wrong with the institution but it’s times like these that I’m happy that we have a Queen who can push back on what he’d otherwise do to our country. 
Anne: Have you ever actually talked to him or attended one of his seminars? He has great plans for Simovia! I know that the media loves to paint him as this xenophobic loudmouth but he’s actually a really lovely man. He’s well educated but he doesn’t hide in his ivory tower. He knows that the people want freedom and he’s willing to give it to them.
Iza: You can’t be serious… freedom to what? Starve and end up on the street with no healthcare? I’ve read through his plans, they’re now out there on the government’s website and what I see is...
Anne: He just wants to encourage people to make the best choices in their own lives. Being controlled by some big political machine won’t let people do that. If you just opened your eyes, I’m sure you could see that.
Iza: I… Arturo please can we move on? Seriously... I can’t believe that I’m forced to debate politics with someone who clearly has no understanding of how society functions. 
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Arturo: Now Iza, she does have a right to her opinion… but, it is about time we moved on. After the break, more engagement rumours between Her Royal Majesty the Queen and His Grace the Landgraaf van Hoensbroek...
Next
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etchedstars · 3 years
Text
wesper week | 7
hehe more wesper modern au because i dislike writing ketterdam. no more road trip au, this is separate. they’re in high school. 
beep boop textfic and prose!
also please imagine that any emojis [ :) / :( / etc ] that wylan says are. actual emojis. i cant get them on my computer
for the last day of @wesper-week :(( have a longer fic than normal to apologize for missing day 6 
----
<< song ;; is your bedroom ceiling bored? ;; sody // cavetown >>
i stay up late and i talk to the moon i can’t stop telling him all about you
he found himself back at it again. 
almost one in the morning. the window was pushed open and the boy sat under it, one of those stupid childproof screens was pressed to his cheek as he gasped for fresh air, eyes glancing -- or, more accurately, glaring -- at the moon. 
wylan, he’d whisper, and wait for something to happen. he’d compose a letter in his head. then out loud, a conversation. dear wylan, i had another nightmare. after a few minutes, he’d close the window and walk back off to sleep. 
the moon would watch him. the moon had its own secrets to deal with, secrets of children all over town. most with their own crushes. some with worse.
he had to watch and occasionally, occasionally he laughed: oh, hayley, sweetheart, tessa’s up late too. you can go ask her out. she likes you back. she told me so. and then he’d send a shared dream off to hayley and tessa, and the next week they would be together. that’s how it was.  
but this situation was interesting. because wylan van eck never talked to the moon. the sun knew, of course, but it was forbidden for the two to talk. he ruled over the night; she, the day. that’s just how it was.
the boy he watched over tonight closed his window and lay in bed. his moonlight streamed through his window still -- most in this town did not have curtains, odd as it was -- and the moon could clearly see his eyes open, words mouthed to his ceiling. 
wonder if you do the same thing i do
wylan van eck did not.
these four white walls, they know more than my friends they watch me type messages i’ll never send
five a.m. 
jesper sighed and deleted the message. the 46th he’d never send. it was useless anyways. they always went the same way in his head:
jes: i have something to tell you
wy: can we talk in person?
jes: yeah but i kinda want it to just be us when we do
wy: okay, tomorrow? it’s late right now.
jes: oh
jes: sure
he didn’t want to talk in person. he just wanted to tell him over text. saints, it’d be much easier over text. but in every scenario, wylan would always ask in person. 
jesper knew why, of course -- the text to speech program was loud, and he couldn’t risk going on his phone so late without his father hearing -- but he wanted to. he wanted to. 
damn wylan and his father. damn his father. 
this is the place where i just can’t pretend to be okay
he reached for his phone again and scrolled back through their old messages, clicking out of it when a notification came in. nina. 
nininainiaiainainina: u alr?
jesjjejesjsjejesjejsjes: eh could be worse 
jesjjejesjsjejesjejsjes: cant go to sleep
nininainiaiainainina: saaaame
nininainiaiainainina: ft? 
jesjjejesjsjejesjejsjes: is it ok if we meet up and go drive around or smth 
jesjjejesjsjejesjejsjes: ?
nininainiaiainainina: its late
nininainiaiainainina: can we just ft
jesjjejesjsjejesjejsjes: ok
he put his phone down and banished the thought of wylan. 
is your bedroom ceiling bored like mine  of you staring at it all the time
nina was listening to taylor swift when he called. “you too, huh?” he asked.
she nodded. “why can’t i have a crush on someone who stays up as late as i do?” nina groaned. “like matthias sleeps at ten. ten, jes! and everyone knows it’s best to confess at night.”
“what a mood.”
“and maybe i can t- wait, did you just- mood? who is it? who? jesper llewellyn fahey, answer.” 
he shrugged, smiling. “he... he can’t ever actually text me. he... he, i- w- it’s not safe for him to text me at night.”
she groaned. “that’s the worst. wanna go to a mcdonalds’ and buy shitty ice cream and eat it on a roof while crying about our respective crushes?”
“didn’t you just say you didn’t want to go out?”
“yeah, i don’t have the energy to drive.” 
“sure, i’ll meet you at your house. but i’m biking.”
“what- why?”
“because my car’s old and i don’t want to wake anyone up.” 
nina cast a look at him. 
“you live close, i’ll just drop off my bike at your house and then we can walk down the street to mcdonalds. it’ll be fine.” 
nina nodded. he left the house. 
it’s seen so many nights where i cry and yell at the sky for not telling you how i feel is your bedroom ceiling bored like mine?
nina kicked her feet, hitting the side of her apartment building. “i wish wy didn’t have such shitty parents.”
“me too, i want to, like, be able to confess my everlasting love for him at 3 AM and have him be awake to hear. and reply without getting caught.”
“you’ll just have to tell him at school or something,” nina said. “i want to break something.” 
“completely up for it,” he replied and took the last bite of his sundae. “i’m gonna try to get it into the trash can down there.” 
“ten dollars to the person who gets it closer.”
“you have no faith in me.” he threw it. five feet from the trash can. or something like that. “damn.” 
nina laughed and threw hers. it bounced off the rim of the trash can. 
“i take my payment in relationship advice. what should i do for matt?” 
“just, like, kiss him after a football game or something. i don’t know. i’m still worried about wy.”
i get up early and talk to the sun ask her for guidance but she ain’t got none
wylan was always awake with the sunrise, but there were fifty different reasons why he could be awake by then. today, judging by how he was leaning back in his chair, stretching his arms, wy had stayed up too late drawing.
she watched him crack his knuckles and bend back over his desk. wait for it... he blinked at her. “already?” he whispered, leaning over to check his phone. 6 AM, and he’d gotten a text from jesper. 
his heart fluttered when he listened to it. wy can we talk i want to tell you something
“of course,” he whispered, trying to stop his brain from coming up with fifty endless scenarios.   
your awake? and then a second later that was fast
he turned to the rays of sunshine peeking through the curtain. “what do i reply?” he whispered. “what do i say?”
the sunshine didn’t answer, just caressed his face. you’ll do what you need to do, she whispered, perched on his window. 
“what do i do if he likes me?
do you like him back?
“i like him, of course, but what about my dad?”
he’ll just have to accept he’s got a gay kid.
“he hates gay people. he hates me already! what... what’s gonna happen?” 
she didn’t have an answer. 
how am i supposed to know you’re not the one?
the sun knew. the sun stayed silent. 
i’m begging to the mirror cause i can’t find an answer too busy falling apart and i’m wondering if you’re moving on
he picked up his phone. jes had texted. his heart lurched. 
jes: you still there?
wy: yeah
wy: what did you want to say?
jes: oh yeah 
jes: why r u awake so early
wy: it’s not that late, i just woke up a bit earlier than normal
wy: why are you awake? don’t you usually wake up at 7?
jes: couldnt sleep
jes: went to nina
jes: sent a picture!
nina? he knew the two were best friends, but... it’s not up to you to dictate who he hangs out with, he told himself sternly. still, there was a twinge of jealousy: couldn’t he go to him? 
if you are, what’s your secret,  because i can’t work out where to start
wy: cool lol
jes: but now we’re stuck on a roof 
wy: what?
wy: how?
jes: they closed the stairwell thing and it’s jammed or something
jes: help
wy: no suffer
jes: fuck u
wy: you’ll get down
jes: :(( 
jes: i miss you :(( 
wy: you’ll be fine, just bang on the roof or something
-
the gay crows
idiot 1: sent a screenshot!
idiot 1: me and nina are stuck on a roof and wy wont come help us :(( 
sunshine boy: if this is an attempt to guilt trip me, it’s not working
idiot 1: wylan :(( 
kaz: Not again
idiot 2: this is biphobia
sunshine boy: no it’s not!
idiot 1: youre literally teaming up against us bc we’re bi
sunshine boy: no i’m not helping you get down because you’re not my responsibility
idiot 1: spoken like kaz
sunshine boy: i’ll take that as a compliment
kaz: Take your fighting out of the group chat.
kaz: You sure you two aren’t together?
sunshine boy: yeah...?
idiot 1: pretty sure yes
kaz: Could’ve fooled me.
sunshine boy: i
idiot 1: lol ok
is your bedroom ceiling bored like mine of you staring at it all the time
he put his phone down. some weird glowy feeling had risen in his chest: kaz thought he and jes were together? an accomplishment. 
but he wanted it to be real. that’d be a great comeback: “you sure you two aren’t together?” “i’m pretty sure we are, yes.” iconic.
jes: ugh kaz
wy: i know right 
jes: so uh
jes: was that a no to getting us off the roof?
wy: yes
wy: shoot the door in
jes: i don’t have my guns :((
wy: then kick it in. i don’t know
wy: you and nina both took karate, it’ll be fine 
jes: you suck
wy: ouch
wy: :(
jes: wait dont be sad 
wy: :)
jes: ok i’ll update you 
jes: update we were pulling it was a push door
wy: i’m honestly completely unsurprised right now
it’s seen so many nights where i cry and yell at the sky for not telling you how i feel
wylan took a breath. 
wy: also uhh
wy: about earlier 
wy: did you want to tell me something?
jes: nope
jes: not at all
wy: i smell bullshit
jes: fine
jes: dont judge me
jes: but i kinda maybe
jes: like you lol
jes: romantically
wy: oh
jes: yeah
wy: ok good 
jes: ? 
wy: i like you too haha
jes: nina stole my phone 
wy: oh
jes: brb gonna kill nina
jes: is she kidding
jes: that was my thing to say jdsfhdjksfdhfdskjhdsfhs
jes: still stands tho do you wanna go out with me
wy: yeah of course 
wy: :) 
jes: <333
wy: what is that
jes: a heart :) 
wy: <3
is your bedroom ceiling bored like mine
both the sun and the moon rejoiced that morning.
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thiswasinevitableid · 3 years
Note
54. I’m not sure what you think I said, but you start calling me an asshole and whip a ruler at me and somehow, we both end up in detention
Indruck, sfw, please?
Here you go! Content note: spiders appear at one point.
I based some of this AU--namely the concept of the Crucible and how magic is channeled--on the Carry On series by Rainbow Rowell. And Duck is trans in this, because any good wizarding school is inclusive.
After three years at Amnesty Academy, Duck is used to the objects being magically propelled through the air. But a ruler zipping through the air and smacking the back of his head is a new, unpleasant experience.
He tracks it to two chairs to his left, the new third year with the silver hair. He hasn’t even been here a day, what the fuck the is his problem?
“Hey, what the hell man?”
“You know very well what.”
“Uh, no I don’t, and I don’t appreciate bein hit with a fuckin ruler!”
“The maybe think before you insult someone next time!”
“I didn’t fuckin insult you! I don’t even know your name!”
“Ahem.” Ned, their Charms professor, looks down at them reproachfully, “gentlemen, while I know the review of Zone of Truth is rather dull, I’d appreciate it if you didn’t entertain yourselves with mindless conflict.”
“Sorry, Ned.” Duck mumbles, sending his pencil shooting below desk level to whack the other guy in the leg at the exact same moment he whips his pen at Duck’s hand.
“OW!”
Ned sighs, “I hate to do this, but-”
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“Detention! Lovely, my first day here and I’m in trouble. Thank you so much, Duck Newton, for landing us here.”
“You started it!” He growls as they take their seats. God, he hopes this isn’t one of Woodbridge’s days.
“Huh, only two.” Mama wipes her boots on the mat, closes the door behind her, “Afternoon, Duck. And…”
“Indrid.” Says his nemesis, “It is nice to meet you Professor C-” he cocks his head, “you really prefer I call you ‘Mama?’”
“Yep. Never could get behind that more formal stuff. Let some of the first years call me ‘Ms. Mama’ if they really need to feel like they’re showin some deference.”
Mama is deputy Headmistress of Amnesty. The only reason she’s not fully in charge is that she’s not a witch and some families object to that. So The Quell technically runs the school while Mama does most of the actual day to day work. She also teaches a course of non-magic practical skills because, “some things you can’t magic your way out of. Like taxes.”
Duck loves her class and, while he doesn’t understand why someone would opt into this weirdness, he admires the guts it takes as a fifteen year old human to walk into a wizarding school and declare that there was plenty you could learn there even though you couldn’t so much as send a spark from your fingers.
As he and Indrid watch the clock tick down, Mama pulls a bag from her satchel. The contents are cookies, which she offers to each of them.
“Barclay tryin’ out new recipes?”
“Course he is. Kid is gonna be the best damn kitchen witch in the country by the time he graduates. Guess he’s plannin to spend the summer drivin around and learnin the food magic of different regions.” She smiles, “bet you’ll never guess who’s goin’ with him.”
“Joe?”
“Bingo. Apparently he wants to study niche cultural magic.”
Duck’s pretty sure there’s another motive; sharing a van bed with Barclay. It sounds fun, roving the country, discovering new places with someone handsome by your side.
All that’s by his side is a glower hiding behind red glasses.
“Mama? I, ah, would it be possible for me to leave five minutes early? I’m supposed to get my pairing from the Crucible tonight.”
The older woman looks between the two of them, “Better tell me how you landed here first. Ned just said it was an argument.”
“He threw a ruler at me outta nowhere.”
“It was not, you know what you said.”
“The last thing I said before you hit me was ‘“nah, man’ when Billy offered me a pizza roll from his lunch.”
Indrid goes still, “Oh. I, ah, I misheard you. I thought you said 'mothman.' I apologize. I ought to have given you the benefit of the doubt.”
He seems so suddenly downtrodden that Duck shrugs, “Yeah, you should have. But it ain’t the worst thing that’s happened to me here. Not by a long shot.”
“No kiddin” Mama leans back on the desk, “Two of you can go at five til.”
His evening turns uneventful after that; dinner, hanging out with Juno and Aubrey, half doing homework and half fucking around on his phone in his room (the agreement between the school and the government is that a long as the students don’t post vidoes of themselves doing sick stunts with magic, the government will ignore any explosions and/monsters in the vicinity of the school).
He’s never had a roommate; when the Crucible spat out his name in fire on his first day, there was no other name with it. Almost everyone else rooms in pairs or trios. So his belongings are strewn about the tiny cabin that makes up his home away from home. Which is why, when the door creaks open at ten p.m, he sits up and prepares to fire off a spell.
Indrid stands in the doorway, one bag over his shoulder and another in his hand. He looks tired.
“Hello, Duck. Ah, I guess that one is my bed, then.”
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The class schedules for Amnesty are generated by the heart of the school itself. Indrid isn’t entirely sure what that means, but the heart must not be terribly creative. It stuck him in divination class. He’s been seeing the future since he was five, managing it with his drawings since he was eight. Even the professor has no idea what to do with him, since the images come in like a garbled T.V signal when he uses a crystal ball and the cup shattered when he tried to read tea leaves.
At least Barclay gave him a conciliatory caramel while they swept up the shards. It made him feel a bit better, though whether that’s due to enchantment or Barclay being exceedingly good at cooking is hard to say.
And now he has to go to “Magical Weaponry.” Magical Defense he understands; there are still lots of malicious forces out there, or even just everyday evils that it’s good to be able to ward against. Plus, Vincent is a good professor, enthusiastic and understanding.
Professor Minerva is just as enthusiastic but twice as loud. This is their first day in the actual gym, as opposed to at a blackboard, and his visions suggest it’s going to go poorly for him. As it should; he’s not a fighter, he’s a disaster.
At Amnesty, magic is channeled through objects. Most people use wands or their hands but some, like Aubrey, use jewelry (a necklace from her mother) or another accessory.
Duck Newton uses a sword. Or he’s trying to. The sword seems to be winning.
“Exert your will on him, Duck Newton, he answers to you!”
“I answeeer to only the capable.”
“Shut up, Beacon.” Duck adjusts his grasp, but nothing happens until he drops the sword and sends a spell through his fingers. The target explodes. Indrid suddenly feels a bit better about his own probable performance.
Duck notices him, indicates the practice area next to him is clear. While they started off poorly, his roommate is doing his best to demonstrate southern hospitality. He invites Indrid to eat with him, helps him when his visions offer no help in navigating the grounds, and even lent him a blue and green shirt (Amnesty's colors) for his first Spirit Day. Duck is the best thing to happen to him in his first month here.
By the time class is over, they have six broken targets, a shredded mat, and a knife that is now a very confused frog between them. They manage to laugh about it, even as Duck scoops up the amphibian and tucks him into his shirt pocket.
It’s then that Indrid realizes he has a crush.
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“You comin to the game tonight?” Juno measures her sapling.
“Assumin nothin comes up and nobody’s tryin to kill me, you know I’ll be there.” He loves cheering Juno on during her soccer games (hey, not everything has to be magic based, even at a wizarding school).
“Drat.”
The hissed frustration draws his attention to the far end of the work table. Indrid is trying to coax his Venus Flytraps to perk up, but they remain brown and limp.
“Need some help?”
“Please, as you clearly know what you’re doing.” Indrid tilts his head towards the sapling pine tree Duck is working on. If he does his growing spells right, he’ll be able to take it home as a Christmas Tree during winter break.
“You tend to picture words or, uh,pictures when you do your spells?”
“Images work best. The trouble is that the futures sometimes make it difficult for me to picture a spell clearly.”
“What if I try describing how I’d see it and you picture what I say?”
“It’s worth a try.” Indrid closes his eyes.
“Okay. Think about the roots drawin water up from the soil, about the traps absorbin nutrients from prey. That brown is goin green as they do, they’re stems are growin stronger…” he grins as the plant turns bright green, it’s mouths open, “hey, ‘Drid, look”
“Oh!” Indrid flaps his hands, “it worked! Now I can keep them healthy and big andohno, nono not again.”
The table cracks and collapses as the plant turns gigantic, blocking out the light from the greenhouse roof.
“Holy fuck, that’s great!”
“Language, sport, but I agree.” Thacker, the head of the magical Horticulture classes, whistles as he looks the plant up and down, “this is mighty impressive Indrid. Wonder if we could use it on some pumpkins come fall…”
“I don’t recommend it, unless you want them to chase people.” Indrid points to one of the heads, which is swaying in the air and lowering closer to him. It snaps and he leaps back, falling to a pile of potting soil. Thacker raises his walking stick and the flytrap returns to its proper size.
Duck helps Indrid up, but his friend stays quiet through the end of class and on the walk back to their room.
“You know it ain’t anythin to be ashamed of, right?” Duck flips on the light, “we all fuck up spells now and then. Hell, Aubrey is on track to be the best spellcaster this school’s ever seen and she still has trouble.”
“But mine go haywire constantly” Indrid flops, dejected, onto his bed, “forget mastering my powers, I’ll be lucky if I graduate able to keep them in check. If I graduate at all.” His hand searches the bed blindly; Duck sets the weighted, plush bat into so Indrid can set it on his chest.
“What do you mean?”
“I’ve never lasted more than a year at a magical school. Or a non-magical one. I started at Mt Vernon when I was fifteen. Tried Deep Hollow and Shasta the year after that. I’m powerful but I can’t seem to channel it well, and three different schools decided I was more trouble than I was worth.”
“Bullshit.” Duck rests a hand on Indrid’s knee, “you’re strugglin with somethin; that means you need more help, not less. And if anyone gets it into their heads to kick you outta Amnesty, I’ll raise a goddamn ruckus.”
Indrid chuckles, quiet and disbelieving.
“I’m serious. You know Aubrey and them would side with me, and Joe knows school policy well enough he could probably find a reason why them tryin to get rid of you was against the rule.”
“Thank you.” Indrid’s smile is a rare flower, fragile and stunning.
“You want one of those calm-down caramels Barclay made?”
“Please.”
Duck grabs the box from the cabinet of their little kitchenette, then snags a Coke and a pineapple soda from the fridge. Indrid is no longer horizontal, is instead sitting with his back to the wall so Duck has space to join him.
Under the fizz of fresh bubbles, his friend murmurs, ‘“Have people really tried to kill you?”
“Yep. Someone sent an assassin after me my first year, and there was a Dire wolf on the grounds last winter that was clearly locked on to my scent. Perk of bein a Chosen One.” He grumbles as he swigs his drink.
“...Who on earth sends an assassin after a fifteen year old?”
“Right?! Fuck if I know, they never got any information out of the guy. Fuckin prophecy I swear, I didn’t even want these powers, let alone to be some kind of hero.”
“I sympathize.” Indrid rests his head on Duck’s shoulder, “there are prophecies around my birth as well.”
Duck clunks their bottles together, “To bein’ fucked over by stuff we can’t control.”
Indrid drains his soda, then perks up, “Oh! Oh dear, you should go if you want to be there for Juno’s match.”
“Come with me?” Duck can’t get the image of the two of them sharing a giant pretzel while smushed thigh to thigh on the bleachers out of his head.
His friend grins, “Of course.”
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Duck hoped, after his not-great time in middle school, that a magic academy would be asshole free. But no, there are assholes everywhere, and these ones have even more tools for tormenting their targets. He’s never been one, nor have any of his friends. The one time someone tried to bully Barclay, Dani sicked three spectral hummingbirds on them until they apologized.
Indrid, odd and new, is an easy target, though he seems to hold his own just fine (and his proximity to the most powerful witch in school does scare off many potential antagonists). But three guys in their Magical Defense class have zeroed in on him.
They’re standing in line to practice against an evil eye when Indrid’s glasses, the ones he doesn’t take off even when he sleeps, hit the floor by Duck’s feet. Duck scrambles to grab them before they get stepped on, wondering why everyone is making such a fuss. Then he turns and backs up in alarm.
An eight foot tall moth creature is where Indrid should be, red eyes wide and claws clicking together anxious.
“Who let that thing in here?” Someone yells from behind him.
Indrid’s antenna flatten.
“Fuck, wasn’t expecting him to be that big a freak” one of the bullies scoffs.
Black wings twitch.
“Newton, give him the glasses back so we don’t have to look at him!”
Indrid trills, upset, and leaps into the air at the same moment Aubrey yells, “that’s enough” and Vincent shouts a reminder about no flames in enclosed spaces and also detention for you three. Duck is to busy climbing out the window Indrid flew through to pick up the details.
One two-story fall later, he’s chasing a dark shape into the Monongahela forest. While the parts of the woods near his hometown of Kepler are non-enchanted, this chunk is magic down to the moss (he plans to write his final year project on how those halves of forest mesh on an ecological level). One of the worst aspects of the enchanted portions is their tendency to re-shape around travelers. His usual way around this is to have an unwavering sense of where he’s going and pretend the woods are giving him an unchanging path to get there. But that trick does fuck-all when he doesn’t know his destination.
After two hours of searching he’s no closer to finding Indrid, it’s getting dark, and he’s debating heading back to the school for help. He hasn’t been this deep in the woods since he fled the Dire Wolf, and he knows the deeper you go into the trees, the wilder the magic becomes. Bad news for him, even worse for his friend who's out there somewhere, upset and alone.
Eight gigantic eyes glitter at him from the dirt, and he quickly rearranges who has it worse right now.
Throwing a burst of light into the trapdoor spiders eyes buys him enough time to bolt to a tree and climb. As soon as it crawls free of its burrow he freezes; if he’s remembering right, they use vibrations to locate prey.
Fuck, that thing is the size of a VW Beatle. Why is that even a thing? No spider needs to be this big!
In spite of his stillness, it spies him and sets its forelimbs on the tree-trunk. There’s nothing else for it; he draws Beacon, pictures the spider shrinking, and casts his spell.
A soft crunch of leaves signals it hitting the ground, now an unremarkable size for an arachnid. Just as he steps down a branch, a second trap door opens and an enraged spider bursts out, looking for it’s friend. When it can’t find it, it turns and snaps its mandibles at Duck. This time, Beacon does nothing, no matter how Duck commands and curses as his eight-legged doom gets closer.
A crackle of electricity and then this spider disappears as well. On the other side of the trunk, red eyes regard him with worry, “are you hurt?”
“Nah, all in one piece thanks to you.” He holds out his hand, “you wanna head back?”
“Yes, please.” Indrid flaps to the ground, Duck following him on foot and then turning them towards campus, “you did not need to come look for me.”
“Course I did, not gonna let my friend get swallowed up by the forest. Oh, here” he holds out the red glasses, “you want these back?”
“Not just yet. That is, if this form is not too alarming to you.”
Duck takes in the glossy feathers, the charming ruff, the way the face is still obviously Indrid yet excitingly new, “I’m good.”
Light flickers from black claws, stars and flowers spinning out with ease, “It’s so much easier when I’m like this. I never foresaw my disguise charm being an issue, but the older I’ve gotten the more it seems to influence my ability to control my spells. But, well, you saw how people reacted. Even you were startled.”
“In my defense, I thought you’d been eaten by, well, you.” Duck casts the same spell, vines of light chasing the red flowers, “I’m still sorry, though. You ain’t horrible like this, ‘Drid; you’re fuckin stunnin. Never seen anyone as incredible as you.”
Indrid stops, looking down at him, “Do you truly mean that?”
Duck rises on his toes, pecking his cheek, “Yeah, I do.”
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The Halloween Formal is the most elaborate event at Amnesty. Indrid feels that if there’s any day he’s within his rights to be in his true form, it’s when everyone else is dressed as monsters.
He doesn’t have a date. He thought Duck was in the same predicament. Then his friend left before he was half-done grooming his feathers, saying he needed to get flowers for his hot date.
Ah well. At least Indrid will get to see him there and spend some time with his friends.
He checks his reflection in the gleaming black walls, orange and purple lights glowing and jack’o lanterns floating above his head. He adjusts his robes, the nice red ones his father sent him, and prepares to enter the ballroom.
“Hold up.”
When he turns, Duck is standing there in his black dress shirt and green tie, looking for all the world like he’s alone.
“You got one more thing to put on” He holds out a bracelet of flowers, sized to slip perfectly over Indrid’s hand. There are matching flowers pinned to one side of Duck’s hair.
“Oh. Oh my. You really-”
Duck uses a small spell to bend Indrid into a kiss; it’s a bit messy, since their mouths aren’t meant to fit together, but Indrid would not trade it for all the magic in the world.
“Yeah, ‘Drid, I really do.” With that, Duck offers his elbow and they walk arm in arm into the great hall.
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tractorbeamofwoe · 3 years
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A/N: got a request on tumblr to write a hurt/comfort Van fic (although this is more hurt and angst than comfort) and I decided to base it on Traitor by Olivia Rodrigo. Enjoy :)
Word Count: 1277
***
The problems started when Van was spending less and less time with me. Whenever I called him out on it he'd always shrug it off with "she's just a friend" "we're just friends" but it was clear to me that he cared for her much more than a friend.
Sometimes it felt like I was just the friend. The friend who he lived with and shared a bed with. The friend who got up and made him coffee in the mornings and the friend who would pick him up from tour.
"Who are you texting?" I'd ask
And it would always be "Oh just a friend."
And then I'd always point out "But you never text Bondy or Larry that much, they're your friends aren't they?"
And again he'd dismiss it "Yeah, course, she's just talkative that's all."
Then when I'd tell him to pause things, wrap up the conversation to watch TV with me and eat the dinner I'd cooked for him that was already going cold, he'd always sigh and reluctantly shove his phone in his back pocket only to have it back out again two minutes later.
It was infuriating.
So when it came to ending things, I had to take charge and confront him. It was kind of ironic really, because for the last few months things had been awful and we'd be arguing constantly and only when I wanted to break up with him did things start getting better. In a way it was also planned, because I wanted it to be unexpected. I wanted it to hurt him as much as it hurt me to sit there and watch him slowly fall for this other girl while not being able to do a single thing about it.
He'd put in the effort to take me out for dinner, but drove us home early because he didn't like my attitude. Well, I didn't like him texting his "friend" about where we were and what we were doing, but we can't always get our way.
That was when I told him it was over and he was livid. We had possibly the worst screaming match we'd ever had but it was refreshing and I'd needed to get everything off my chest for a long time.
"Goodbye Y/N." He huffed, packing his bags and slamming the front door. I know I shouldn't have, but I began smiling as a wave of relief just washed over me. Like some weight had been lifted from my shoulders. It wasn't meant to be, and while it hurt, it would heal and I'd move on. Right?
The bedroom window was open and I could hear Van on the phone outside, grumbling about needing to be picked up because he'd just been dumped as he scuffed his boots on the tarmac pavement feeling sorry for himself.
"Good riddance." I called, though not directly to him, as a car pulled up and Van got in, greeting the pretty blonde girl in the driver's seat.
For the first time in a while I had a deep sleep, no tossing and turning as I tried to switch off and stop worrying about what tomorrow might bring. Now the main problem was resolved, I finally had the chance to start working on myself. I was going out more and reconnecting with old friends, I was more productive at work and I was cooking different meals for myself every night.
But trouble shortly followed just a fortnight later as I was doing a nightly scroll through my socials before bed in the summer heat, about to brush my teeth and turn out the light when a post caught my eye.
"Van McCann spotted with new girl" was the sentence that stood out to me and I couldn't help but laugh to myself. I considered liking or reposting it, knowing it would become some sort of gossip amongst fans, who had no idea we'd even broken up.
As far as anyone else knew, it was just a polite acknowledgement of the fact that we'd both moved on, but Van didn't see it that way and he started blowing up my phone 20 minutes later with angry texts and missed calls.
Van
"What the fuck"
"Pick up"
"Pick up right now"
"Y/N answer the phone"
"For fucks sake"
There was no avoiding it, and no point riling him up either. I had no choice but to pick up when he called again, his words fuelled with so much hatred I could practically hear the spit flying from his lips as he hissed down the phone.
"You know I'm not calling to make amends so don't try and play innocent cause I've got some fucking words to say to you, alright?" He sounded like he'd had a couple of drinks, the end of his sentence slurred a little. He never loses his cool under stress, which made me a little worried, but he wasn't mine to worry about anymore and right now he couldn't care less how I was doing.
"Why the fuck would you go stirring up rumours and shit with the fans? We're done, we're over now and I'm happy in my relationship. Block my fucking number I don't want anything to do with you, you clearly just want attention."
His words stung, but I wasn't going down without a fight. "Why don't you just block me?" I retorted, raising my voice and waiting for it to echo through before Van argued back.
"Well I don't know Y/N, you tell me. If I block you you might spin it into another one of your stories to make me look bad." He spat, petty as ever and I really didn't see the point in arguing with him when he wasn't even thinking straight. But I guess there was still some bad blood between us that needed to be addressed.
"If you didn't wanna look bad, maybe you should've thought about what you were doing before you started flirting with your new woman in the middle of our relationship!" I screeched, rolling over and getting out of bed to open the window. My room was still too hot and it was getting on my nerves.
"What, you're saying I'm some sort of cheater? You're the one who broke up with me over a fucking text message with a friend!"
"Well I wouldn't know if you'd slept with her or not, you never fucking told me anything! I think I was right to end things considering how quickly you ran to her afterwards!" I didn't go back to bed then, I wasn't relaxed enough to sleep anymore, instead I slumped down in the chair beside the window and left the phone on speaker on the other side of the room as Van continued to rant and rave.
"Well I don't even feel bad and I would never take you back even if I did!" Was the last sentence he came out with before I couldn't take any more. I darted from my seat and snatched my phone back from where it was laying on the mattress.
"Fuck you Van!" I yelled before hanging up and blocking his number. I huffed as I turned out the light, angrily throwing myself onto the bed and scrunching my eyes shut in an attempt to speed up the process of falling asleep.
That was the last I ever heard from him and sometimes I found myself wondering if things might have been different.
Perhaps if he'd used his head and I'd listened to my heart we could have made a change, worked things out.
Or perhaps we were doomed from the start...
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jewish-space-laser · 4 years
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Could Be Lethal - Epilogue
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“I'm scared to death that she might be it, That the love is real, that the shoe might fit, She might just be my everything and beyond...”
-Beyond, Leon Bridges
Hello friends! I’m honestly a little choked up posting this. CBL has meant so much to me over this past year, and all I can think about right now is how appreciative for every single person who has supported me, whether you sent me messages, reblogged with nice tags, or gave it any kind of love. None of it went unnoticed, I promise. Special shout out to @for-fucks-sake-h @oh-honey-styles @andwhenshesays @real-work-of-art @haute-romance-quotidienne for hyping me up and proofreading and just being all-around incredible. Okay, this got kind of long, so I’ll end it here, but as always please tell me what you think. I love chatting with you all <3 xoxox Tile (3.3k, she’s a short one!)
You and Harry were friends, with a capital ‘F’. Yeah, you’ve been sleeping in his bed for the past two months, and maybe your entire nervous system goes into hyperdrive when you’re in the same room, but that’s normal, right?
or
The one where you and Harry have an arrangement… of the cuddling sort.
Catch up here!
You were so, so late. 
It was half an hour past the time your friends were set to meet at Slim’s, and you hadn’t even left your flat yet. Meredith had texted you twice asking where you were, but you ignored her. 
You and Harry had decided to keep your relationship on the down-low, just for a little while. It wasn’t that you wanted to keep secrets from your friends, you just wanted a little bit of time to adjust to your new normal before having questions fired at you left and right. They were a curious bunch, after all. 
 “Shit,” you heard Harry mutter from your bedroom. You lowered your mascara wand to peek through the doorway, seeing him frowning at his phone. His jeans were unbuttoned, shirt nowhere to be found, and he only had one sock on. “Nick is calling me.”
 “Well, don’t answer!” You laughed. Leaning back towards the bathroom mirror, you continued trying to rush through your makeup. 
 You absolutely hated rushing, but you hadn’t been able to deny Harry’s suggestion that he should join you in the shower. It had been less than a week since you made things official, but you already knew you were in a world of trouble. You’d never be able to say no to him. 
 “I think I have to answer,” he sighed, “this is the third time he’s called me, I’m pretty sure he’s getting worried.”
 “Okay,” you snorted, “but don’t tell him you’re here.”
 “I’ll make something up,” he assured you. 
 Giggles bubbled up in your throat as you listened to him tell Nick that he’d accidentally taken an extra long nap, and that he’d be on his way shortly. He didn’t sound all that convincing, but it would have to do. 
 You hadn’t heard him get off the phone, so you jumped a bit when you felt his arms wrap around your waist from behind. You set down the makeup brush you had been using, catching his eye in the mirror. He smiled softly, pressing a little kiss to your shoulder. 
 “You look really nice,” he told you. At first, it seemed innocent, but then he pressed another kiss to your shoulder, and another to your neck. “Like, really nice.”
 You couldn’t help the sigh that blew out of your lips as your head lolled to the side. He was entirely too charming, but you were already late. 
 “We need to finish getting ready,” you managed to breathe. It was always harder to string sentences together when his lips were on you. “You’re not even dressed.”
 He only hummed, closing his eyes as he moved his lips up to your jaw. His hands had moved lower, sliding over your hips and down to the tops of your thighs. You felt like you were on fire. 
 “Harry, please, we need to....” you gulped when his left hand slide just under the hem of your skirt, “we need to go.”
 “Do we?” He teased. “I was thinking maybe we could just… stay here….”
 Temptation crept up your spine, but you pushed it down. The two of you had been stuck together like magnets for the past five days, you should be able to get through one night without being all over each other. 
 “You already, um,” you gulped, feeling Harry’s lips turn up against your skin, “you told Nick you were on your way.”
 He pulled back with a sigh, letting the hand under your skirt fall to his side. You watched in the mirror as he rolled his eyes, resting his chin on your shoulder as you finished up with your makeup. 
 “I don’t know why you’re so stressed about this,” Harry mused, following you as you broke away from him to throw the tube of lipstick into your purse, “it’s just our friends. We see them all the time.”
 He was right, of course, but part of you really needed this night to go well, without a single hiccup. Because of you and your inability to express emotions, your entire friend group had suffered. Things were weird when you and Harry had stopped talking, and it was undoubtedly felt by the lot of them. You just wanted the dynamic to feel easy again.
 “I guess you’re not wrong,” you admitted, “I just hate lying to them. I’m so bad at it.”
 “You are,” he snickered, pulling you into his chest, “it was your idea, though. I personally don’t care if they know.”
 You groaned, twisting out of his arms once again to slip your shoes on. Harry followed suit, kneeling down to lace up his vans. The way he was gazing up at you made you squirm a bit, the concern and admiration he felt for you more apparent than usual. 
 “Babe…” he sighed out, rising to his feet, “you make things so hard for yourself, I swear. You’re always thinking about things that could go wrong. What about the things that have already gone right?”
 You sucked your lips into your mouth, not entirely sure how to respond. Maybe you were a pessimist, maybe it was your anxiety, or maybe it was just the way your brain was wired, but you’d always had a tendency to think of the worst possible scenario. Harry had a point though; there was a fine line between self preservation and self sabotage. Perhaps the world wouldn’t end if you gave your anxious brain a breather and allowed yourself to relax. 
 Getting together with Harry had been hell, but all of the obstacles you’d created were just in your head. Pulling excuses out of thin air was truly your specialty, anything to keep yourself from taking risks, but eventually it had been exhausting holding yourself back from the things you wanted. You didn’t want your anxiety to ruin your happiness anymore. 
 So you took a deep breath, and then you shifted your focus. Sure, it was going to be uncomfortable fielding questions from your rowdy group of friends, but Harry would be sitting right next to you. And he would stay next to you. And he was in front of you, right now, just inches away, loving you. Suddenly, your concerns regarding your friends weren’t worth dwelling on. 
 “That’s true,” you rolled your shoulders, letting go of some tension, “lots of things are going right.”
 “Like what?” He smirked, swiping his car keys off the little table in your foyer.
 “Let’s see,” you said playfully, pretending to be deep in thought as you locked up your flat, “I’ve got a decent job.”
 “That you do,” he agreed, “and?”
 “I quite like my neighborhood,” you remarked, tilting your head, “my flat is small but I’m proud of it.”
 “Okay,” his grin widened, “anything else?”
 He was fishing for compliments, but you refused to give in. He faked offense when you just rolled your eyes, and bumped his hip into yours before tangling his fingers with yours. You walked in hand-in-hand until you reached his car.
 “I’m lucky to have you,” you said quietly as he buckled his seatbelt. He paused, lips pulled up into a sweet smile.
 “Yeah?”
 “Yeah,” you nodded, meeting him halfway as you shared a short kiss, “having you in my life is very, very right.”
 He kissed you quickly once more before settling into his seat, fiddling with the rearview mirror until he was satisfied. He’d let you borrow his car the other day, and made a huge fuss about the way you readjusted his seat. You loved him anyway.
 In fact, you loved him so much, you weren’t sure you were going to be able to hide it. Maybe Harry was right… you were just creating barriers for yourself. How nice would it be if you could slide into the regular booth at Slim’s, next to Harry, and hold his hand? When you were trying to be secretive about your sleepovers, you’d barely even interacted in front of other people, too paranoid that you’d give yourselves away immediately.
 It was a scary thing to be thinking about, especially as you were on your on way there already, so you twisted a knob on Harry’s dash to change the radio station. After a few moments of searching for a song to distract you, you gave up and turned the entire thing off. 
 “Maybe we should just tell them,” you blurted, biting your lip nervously.
 Harry’s eyebrows shot up, and he glanced at you for just a moment before returning his focus to the road. “We can do whatever you want, babe.”
 “What do you want?” You asked.
 He opened and closed his mouth a few times. “Well, I mean… I get wanting to keep this to ourselves because it’s so… new, you know?” He looked over at you once he was stopped at a red light, a sheepish smile painted over his cheeks. “But at the same time… I’m excited. Like, really excited, and I want to tell my friends. They’ll be excited for us, I know it.”
 Them being excited was what you were afraid of, in a way. You knew your friends well, so you knew that Meredith would ask too many questions, Thomas would say something inappropriate, Grimmy would accidentally talk about it on air, and Jessie would probably just silently sit in the corner. The image you’d created in your head was chaotic and overwhelming. 
 But maybe it wouldn’t be like that. Maybe it was worth finding out. 
 “You’re overthinking, I can tell,” Harry frowned, “listen, like I said, we’ll do whatever you want. Tonight is meant to be fun.”
 “No,” you shook your head, “let’s tell them.”
 “Really? That’s what you want?”
 “Yes.” 
 And you meant it. As terrifying as it would be, keeping more secrets from your friends wasn’t the answer. Plus, they would likely ask a bunch of intrusive questions, anyway. Meredith was nosy long before you ever spent a single night in Harry’s bed. 
Not to mention that Harry was excited, about you. It warmed your heart in a way you’d never felt before, like you were floating and sinking at the same time. He was proud to be able to call you his, and you understood because you felt the same way. If giving them the news about your relationship would make him happy, then it was a no-brainer. His happiness would always win over your fear.
 Your own happiness, too.
Harry ended up being right, of course. The moment the two of you walked through the door together, hands interlocked, the group was ecstatic. 
 “Holy shit!” Nick had shouted, loud enough that people at other tables were looking over. “Fucking finally!”
 Meredith had let out the most grating, nails-on-a-chalkboard squeal, but you’d barely had time to grimace before she was throwing her arms around you. Just like you’d predicted, it was loud, over the top, and even a bit embarrassing… but it was also a celebration. Even though they made a scene, it wasn’t awkward, or overwhelming. They just wanted to support you. 
 And being the center of attention wasn’t as difficult when you had a partner. Harry was more than willing to take the lead on answering questions, allowing you to sit back and just process everything. 
 “Next round is on me,” Jessie announced. Harry had just finished explaining to Thomas that the cuddling had been going on for months. Nick and Meredith hadn’t looked shocked, and Jessie had just looked amused.
 “Cheers, friend,” you smiled, “need help carrying?”
 They nodded at you, so you slid out of your seat, giving Harry’s arm a soft squeeze before making your way to the bar. Jessie caught the attention of the bartender right away, listing off the drink orders that everyone had become familiar with. 
 “How are you doing?” You asked them, leaning your back against the wooden bar. 
 “Me?” They scoffed, mirroring your position. “I should be asking how you are. Last time I saw you, you were a total mess. Well, figuratively. Your apartment was ridiculous, I can literally still smell Clorox.”
 You laughed, shaking your head. “Sorry you had to witness my panic induced cleaning. That talk we had ended up being really helpful.”
 “Good. It sounds like things are going well, then,” they said, wrapping an arm around your shoulders, “I’m really happy for you.”
 “Thanks,” you rested your head on their shoulder, “I am sorry though, for making things weird for everyone.”
 “Whatever,” Jessie waved a hand through the air, “it’s over now. We just didn’t like seeing the both of you in so much pain, especially when it wasn’t really our place to do anything about it.”
 Just then, the bartender tapped your shoulders, pointing to the six drinks lined up on the counter. You grabbed four while Jessie grabbed two, and together you headed back to the table.
 “Oh good, you’re back,” Meredith said, plucking her drink from your hand, “Harry was just telling us about the time he got blackout drunk at some pub in Hackney, weren’t you Harry?”
 “No,” he said drily, “I wasn’t.”
 You passed him his water, which he promptly took a large gulp of. The woes of being a designated driver.
 This went on for a while longer, and eventually your friends stopped grilling you, satisfied with the information they’d pried out of you. Now, it just felt like a normal night, where everybody chatted and gossipped and caught up. So familiar, that you weren’t even phased when a text from Harry popped up on your lock screen. 
 From: Harry Styles 9:56PM
Are we sleeping at mine tonight?
 “Yeah,” you giggled, locking your phone and glancing up at Harry. He was already looking at you with bright eyes and a gentle smile. 
 He leaned down and quickly pressed his lips to your forehead. “Perfect.”
 Just weeks ago, you were secretly texting under the table and making up excuses to leave at the same time, a stark contrast to tonight, where you both hugged your friends goodbye and left together, hand-in-hand and drama free. It was refreshing to be able to fully relax together, no longer tethered to the weight that comes with keeping a secret. Harry seemed especially carefree tonight, running his hands up and down your sides as he walked behind you, only letting go once you reached his car.
 “I had fun tonight,” he remarked, twisting to look over his shoulder as he reversed from the parking spot. His arm was stretched out behind your headrest, and you had to resist the urge to lean into him.
 “Me too,” you hummed, crossing your legs, “it was nice being able to sit next to you for a change.”
 “I agree,” he nodded, looking straight ahead out the windshield, “although that skirt has been driving me crazy all evening. In this case it might have been easier having you all the way across the table from me.”
 You only giggled, rolling down the car window. You needed some cool air on your skin, which was suddenly feeling flushed all over at the thought of Harry checking you out.
 “I’m not kidding,” his lips were in a straight line, but you knew him well enough to recognize the twinkle in his eye, “that thing is coming off the moment we get home.”
 You soon found out that he was quite serious, pinning you against the door the moment it closed behind you. He pressed the front of his body fully against yours, not a single inch of space between your chests as he dipped down to slot your lips together. 
 You gasped for air when he pulled back, throwing your head back against the door as he slowly dragged his palms down your body, stopping to squeeze the flesh of your hips and finally resting on the curve of your ass.
 “How do you do it?” Harry wondered out loud, bunching the fabric of your skirt in his fists as he pulled it upwards. “It’s like you don’t even try.”
 “Do what?” You breathed, lifting up a leg and looping it around his hip.
 He let out an appreciative grunt, grinding his hips into the flimsy lace of your underwear.
 “Like… you just make me want you so much,” he wheezed, arching back slightly as you fiddled with the fly on his jeans, “you’re not even trying to be sexy, like tonight, just fucking sitting and chatting shit with our mates, I wanted to- oh, fuck me!”
 He let out a shaky breath when you reached inside his boxers, rubbing along his length until you could grasp your fingers around him and tug him free from his boxers. After just a few slow pumps, he was swatting your hands away, pulling the crotch of your panties to the side and pushing into you with a slow buck of his hips. He pushed slowly, in and out, until he was as deep as he could be, and you revelled in the feeling of his hipbones pressed against your pelvis.
 “Good?” He nuzzled his nose into the crook of your neck.
 “Mhm,” you managed, sliding a hand up his back under his shirt.
 It wasn’t long before he rendered you a moaning mess, one hand gripping your leg under the knee and the other looped behind the small of your back. He was hitting the deepest, most perfect spots inside of you, and even though the doorknob was digging into your ass, and you still hadn’t taken off your heels, you wouldn’t change a thing.
 He was so good at finding creative ways to fuck you, whether it was a spontanious quickie over the desk in his office, or the slow, sultry sex you’d had in his home studio. It was fun, and exciting, and unique, and you couldn’t get enough.
 His thrusts became faster and harder the moment you reached your hand down to play with your clit. He was watching your fingers like a hawk, not blinking as he watched you pleasure yourself while he fucked into you. Soon enough, your thighs were shaking, cries escaping your mouth as your orgasm thundered through your veins, sending tingles to the tips of your toes and  a warmth throughout your belly.
 Harry followed suit soon after, driving his cock into you once more before spilling inside of you. Neither of you moved, simply standing against the door.
 “You didn’t even take my skirt off,” you eventually broke the silence, dropping your leg. Your hip was definitely going to be sore in the morning. 
 “Would you like me to remove it?” He snickered, digging his fingers into your sides. “I’d be happy to rid you of it, right here, right now.”
 As you and your boyfriend chased each other around the house, teasingly undressing each other as you went, you didn’t spare a single thought on your worries, anxieties, or fears. No, they weren’t even on the radar. 
 Instead, all you could focus on was how unbelievably happy you were right now. 
 You felt high, but this time you weren’t afraid of falling because Harry would be there to catch you. There could be pits of lava, fields of thorns, pointy rocks, rivers full of piranhas… and you’d still take the blind leap if it meant being in his arms. In a way, you’d already been through hell to get here, plagued by your own mind, the most torturous kind of self sabotage. 
 It didn’t matter what the future held. Hypotheticals were no longer important; what mattered was what you had right now, right in front of you. 
 And that was enough.
~~~
Thank you for reading! I’m so sad that their story has come to an end, but it’s not over! We’ll definitely be seeing more of them. I love you all xoxoxoxoxoxoxooxoxox Tile
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themidnight-ghost · 3 years
Text
If we had 5 more minutes
Kate Fleming moves in with Jo Davidson under witness protection. Feelings are discovered, they get a dog, host Jo's first (proper) Christmas, and Kate finally realises what it's like to truly love someone. 
“You can live the life you should have lived. Be free to be the person that you really are.”
“Where do you plan on going next?” Steve took another sip of his beer; god knows what was going on in his friend’s mind. Kate Fleming had been confused ever since she met the infamous Jo Davidson, and after the conversation they just had, he knew Kate would be crazy to let her go.
“Home, probably.”
Steve could hear the uncertainty in Kate’s voice, and he placed a reassuring hand atop of hers, “If you want her, go get her, mate.”
“I’m afraid.” Kate ducked her head, “I know she has witness protection, but something tells me it won’t be enough. I don’t know what to do with myself.”
“Follow your heart. If I deserve a shot, so do you.” He gestured to the harsh autumn air drifting through the slit in the doorway. Kate felt like it was calling her. She knew exactly where she wanted to go and who she needed to see, “I’ll text you.”
Steve Arnott smiled as he watched his best friend grab her jacket and flag down a taxi, “I know you will.”
By the time Kate arrived at Jo’s safe house, it was already 3 am. She felt terrible leaving the woman alone after everything that had happened, but who could really blame her. After knocking on the door 6 times, doubt started to rise in the DI’s chest. What if Jo had forgotten about her? What if she was asleep? What if something terrible had happened?
Fleming knocked again, this time with more urgency.
“Jo? It’s me, Kate. Can you open the door?” After no answer, Kate started becoming illogical. She was never a rational person, often acting on impulse and facing the consequences. It never even occurred to her that Jo could’ve been in the shower. Kate automatically presumed the worst and started looking for a way to scale the building.
Using her detective skills, Kate located a web of ivy stretching up the side of the house. She tugged on it gently at first, then with a little more force before pulling herself up, gasping slightly as a branch gave way but continued to climb, unaware of the approaching figure.
“I didn’t know you have a double life.” A tired Scottish accent echoed through their street, and Kate almost lost her footing, “You look like you’re about to rob me.”  
Thankful that the darkness hid her reddening cheeks, Kate began to make her way down to the former DCI who wore matching sweatpants and sweatshirt.
“Then again, I wouldn’t expect anything less from the woman who saved my life.” Jo twiddled her fingers as Kate approached, not wanting to cross a line.
“It was nothing, don’t worry about it.”
It wasn’t nothing.
Kate still remembered when Steve pulled over the van, how she froze after seeing Jo in such a dangerous position. The DI wanted to say something when they switched places, caress her hand as a sign of good luck, kiss her goodbye or reassure her that everything would be okay. Instead, she waited in silence as Jo was taken away from her yet again.
Unable to take the stillness, Kate spoke again, “How are you feeling?”
“I can’t sleep,” Jo admitted with a sad smile, “I’m constantly locking my doors, checking behind me and closing curtains. I want it to end, Kate.”
The DI wasn’t ready for such an honest confession, but she presumed it was because Jo had nothing left to lose - everything she had was now lost or a lie.
Kate automatically stepped forward, “It will end. The Gaffer’s picked out a place for you, somewhere in the country but still close to this place. You’ll be under witness protection. It’s like I said: you can live the life you should’ve lived.”
“Alone?” Jo’s accent was unusually weak. Alone was the harsh reality Jo didn’t want to admit true. She wanted nothing more but for Kate to come with her and live out a life together free of AC-12 and the OCG, but both women knew that wouldn’t be possible. Kate had a son and her job. Besides, Jo wasn’t worth loving.
Kate Fleming felt the same way. Every instinct in the DI’s body was begging to run to the smaller woman and hold her tightly in her arms, never letting go. It wouldn’t be practical. No one was supposed to know about Jo’s location, not even Hastings.  
“I’m sorry, Kate. Forget it; I’m the last person you’d want to be stuck with.”
Jo clearly still felt guilty about leading Kate to her death, but all of that was in the past. Kate didn’t care, and driving off into the night regardless of previous events was the best decision Kate had ever made.
“Jo, wait.” The DI instinctively grabbed the smaller woman’s wrist, stopping her from leaving, “Hear me out. I’ve never considered myself as anything other than straight, but that’s changed.”
Jo liked how Kate’s hand felt, securely wrapped around her wrist and never letting go. It felt safe like nothing can hurt her anymore.
“Christ, I’ve never been good at wording things or forming sentences, but I’ve never felt this way before, and I feel like a child.”
It only just occurred to Jo that this could be a confession.
“You’re so perfect. And even with everything you have going on, you’re still perfect even if you don’t think it now. And in the un-weirdest way possible, I want to follow you.” gentle drops of rain fell from the sky, “I want to follow you to the country, to England, to France, to wherever. Just so I can be with you. And I feel guilty that it took me this long to tell you because if something, anything happened in that prison, I don’t know what I’d do.”
At first, Jo thought this was a sick joke set up by AC-12 to get revenge, but the only thing in Kate’s eyes was honesty.
“You mean that?” The former DCI mentally cursed at her answer.
Taking both of Jo’s hands, Kate pulled her close.
“Of course I mean that. I wouldn’t say it if it wasn’t true.” Something clicked, “I’m going to do everything I can to go home with you.”
And for the first time in ages, Joanne Davidson smiled. Too absorbed in the DI’s presence to consider anything else, she hesitantly cupped Kate’s face, pressing their foreheads together in the rain.
“Come home with me, Kate.”
☁️ ------------------- ☁️
Even though Kate doubted witness protection, she’d pulled a couple of strings that allowed her to move in with Jo. Initially, Kate had used Jo’s history with the OCG to convince AC-12 to let her move in, but as more truths became unearthed, Kate outed herself to Carmichael and was given the nod of approval.
It wasn’t the way Kate wanted it to go, but it still worked, and the DI wasn’t complaining. She still kept her job, her best friend, all whilst getting to live with the woman she... loved? Kate was still wavering about that word.
“I didn’t think it would be this big,” Jo spoke over the radio as the pair pulled into the driveway of a rural cottage.
Kate smirked, “Only the best for the best.”
Matching Kate’s humorous tone, Jo pointed to the ivy snaking up the trellis.
“Just in case you feel like climbing into the house again.”
“I was worried, yeah?” Kate gently nudged the smaller woman in the passenger seat, “Besides, I didn’t feel like waiting around all night.”
“Thank you, Kate.” Jo took the DI’s hand, pressing a kiss to her knuckles, “For everything.”
“You really need to stop thanking me for everything. Give yourself some credit, Jo.”
“Let’s not go there just yet.” Jo unlocked the car door, becoming Kate to follow.
The DI knew Joanne still had problems with her role in their relationship. She believed that everything she did was selfish and wrong, refusing to see the good aspects like when they got drinks together or walked back to Kate’s drunk and free. Free from AC-12 and the worries of life outside and inside of work. When they walked hand-in-hand, looking at the moon whilst convincing themselves this was a totally platonic thing. Jo was yet to know that she helped Kate discover who she truly was and where she belonged.
Unlocking the little red door, Jo’s mind started to buzz. What colour would the walls be? Where would the kitchen go? Is the wall big enough for a tapestry?
“It’s a tad… plain,” Kate commented.
“That’s the point!” Jo enthusiastically hugged the DI, “We get to choose how to live. For once, we are in control.”
Witnessing Jo so excited made Kate’s heart flutter. Consumed by euphoria, Kate picked up her lover and spun her around in their new living room, their laughter bouncing off the walls and filling the space.
The pair ended by facing each other, breathing heavily through bubbles of laughter.
“What colour should the kitchen be?”
“Green,” Jo tucked a strand of hair behind Kate’s ear, “With a gold tint.”
Kate smiled at Jo’s newfound confidence, “Sound good, boss. Ever thought of getting a dog?”
“Please, Kate,” Jo became solemn, “You don’t need to call me boss anymore.”
Kate took her hand, “But, I thought that was our thing? If you want me to stop, I will.”
Jo inhaled deeply. There are certain things she didn’t want to address, especially after the moment they just experienced. That being said, Joanne Davidson knew the key to any healthy relationship was communication.
“Can we just start again?” Jo fiddled with her fingers, something she always did when anxious, “I don’t want to remember what I put you through or the pain you faced because of my mistakes.”
“I’m sorry, Jo, but I don’t want to start again.” Kate touched the older woman’s shoulder, “Those experiences, they make us who we are; it’s why we’re so close. The universal experience we share with AC-12 and the OCG: it’s us, and I don’t want to forget that.”
Witnessing the walls of Jo’s mental castle crumbling, Kate continued.
“You made mistakes, we all do. It’s what makes us human. We learn from them, adapt, overcome, and that isn’t anything to be ashamed of. Even if forgetting was possible, we can’t pick and choose to get rid of the bad and keep the good. You must find good in the experience. To me, that good is you, Jo.”
Jo buried her head into the crook of Kate’s neck, “I don’t deserve you.”
“I could say the same.”
The pair stayed like that for what seemed like hours. Jo cried it out into Kate’s chest, gripping her shirt as the DI whispered honest words of comfort.
☁️ ------------------- ☁️
After adjusting to their new life, the couple decided to take that exciting yet predictable step and get a dog. It was something Kate Fleming had wanted to do for a long time, and Jo was in no place to stop her. The agreement was that if Jo designed the house, Kate could design the dog… or something as such.
After rolling down the windows, taking many wrong turns and singing Taylor Swift at the top of their lungs, the couple eventually reached the pet shelter.
They held hands as they walked through the kennels.
“What are you looking for, Kate?”
The DI hesitated, spoilt for choice, “Something with personality and spirit.”
“Sounds like a tough one-”
“Christ, what the hell is that!” Kate abruptly pulled away, running over to one of the kennels, “It’s some sort of hairless rat.”
Jo tried her best not to laugh at her girlfriend’s antics, “Kate, you can’t just say that. You’ll hurt its feelings!”
The DI kneeled over in a fit of laughter as the hairless rat-dog chirped towards them, and this time it was Jo’s turn to laugh at the little dog as it spun sporadically in circles.
“Look at the tufts of hair poking from its chin!” Kate mocked before focusing her attention elsewhere, “What have you seen?”
Jo wordlessly pointed to the kennel housing a golden labrador. His eyes were kind and gentle, and he greeted them with a waggy tail. Both women crouched by the glass, Kate resting a hand on Jo’s shoulder for support as the former DCI pressed the palm of her hand against the kennel bars. The dog was cautious at first but started licking Jo’s palm delicately.
“He reminds me of myself,” Jo murmured, and Kate wanted her to continue. The DI never expected Jo to relate to a dog. A hawk maybe but never a dog, “In prison, I mean.”
“He reminds me more of Steve; look at his mug.” The quip Kate made to lighten the mood worked, and soon the couple had signed the papers and were driving back home to Taylor Swift, Steve the dog accompanying them in the back seat.
Jo’s first rule was that Steve wasn’t allowed on the bed. The second was that he couldn’t chew anything of value in the house. Unfortunately for Jo, Steve and Kate ignored both of them.
It started when Kate heard Steve crying in his bed, so she naturally felt sorry for the animal and brought him upstairs to sleep with the couple. All was going well until Steve the dog slotted himself between the pair, separating them for the entire night.
“Come on, mate,” Kate whispered as she pulled the dog back, “I’ve spent enough time without her already.”
After about 10 minutes of trying to move the labrador, Joanne Davidson’s tired voice muffled into the pillow: “I told you the dog shouldn’t be allowed on the bed, Kate.” The DI knew Jo was smirking from how she said her name and decided to get her own back. She refused to spend any more nights without Jo wrapped in her arms.
Climbing past Steve the dog and over the blankets, Kate adjusted herself in the darkness, so she was lying comfortably on Jo’s back. Rolling her eyes, Jo shuffled upwards, letting the DI snake her hands around her waist and cushion her head in Jo’s neck. Jo seriously considered letting Steve sleep on the bed every night.
☁️ ------------------- ☁️
With no recent actions from the OCG, AC-12 gave Kate the go-ahead to release details of her and Jo’s location to 2 people maximum. It wasn’t a debate. Fleming approved Steve and Ted in a heartbeat, making sure they knew the pans for Christmas eve.
Jo Davidson had never spent Christmas with someone before, never mind someone she loved. Even with Freida, Jo had been alone, never fully able to relax or enjoy the rainbow lights and festive music, but as she sat snuggled in front of the wood burner with Kate, she was entirely able to absorb the atmosphere:
Their Christmas tree in the corner, Steve the dog chewing a candy cane, stockings over the fireplace, the unfinished gingerbread house on the kitchen counter, Christmas music outlining the walls and being curled up in the arms of the love of her life as she breathed gently on her neck whilst reading a book.  
“I know you’re unsure about the L-word….” Jo trailed off, once again twiddling her fingers.
Kate kissed her cheek, “Lesbian?”
The former DCI wanted to be as honest as possible, “You know what word I mean, Kate. And I know it scares you.” A beat, “You are in no position to say it back, but I need to tell you that I love you, Kate.”
Kate reassuringly rubbed Jo’s side.
“You love me?”
At that moment, Jo felt a wave of embarrassment overtake her. She felt like a child in a playground handing their crush a dandelion. The former DCI tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and nodded shyly.
“You mean a lot to me, Jo,” Kate admitted with a smile. She had been brainstorming how to say the L-word without actually having to say it, “More than most people and you need to know, you’re the most important person in my life.”
Content with the answer, Jo snuggled into her lover’s side, drifting away to the sound of carol singers and church bells.
Forgetting to send Steve and Ted a text not to ring the bell, she was thankful to see them (mainly Steve) making ‘lovey dovey’ faces through the window. Kate rolled her eyes at her friends’ antics, cautiously prying herself away from the smaller woman and opening the door, pressing a finger to her lips.
“We didn’t mean to wake you,” Ted said sincerely, placing the bag of Christmas presents on the table.
“Oh, it’s fine,” Kate admitted, “It was mainly Jo anyway, her nightmares are on and off, and last night wasn’t the greatest. But you-” She turned to Steve,
“Finally got the girl I see?” Her best friend greeted her with a witty remark and a hug.
Ted peered into the couple’s living room where Jo slept to admire their tree.
“No star?” He questioned.
Kate assessed Steve’s Christmas eve takeaway, “Jo said her mum had a tradition where they put the star up on Christmas day. I figured we’d keep it alive.”
“You should go wake her, mate. God knows how she’ll react to someone in her house. Nevermind us of all people.” Steve mentioned, not wanting to make a bad impression.
“Just don’t break anything.” Kate quipped.
Steve the dog and Steve the person got along surprisingly well, and when not being interviewed about the OCG, Jo and Ted actually had a lot in common. All four shared Steve’s Christmas eve takeaway whilst watching ‘Love Actually’ and, much to Kate’s dismay, started on her trifle during ‘A Muppets Christmas Carol’. The night ended with an excitable game of charades in which Steve and Jo had to act out Scooby and Shaggy - Steve gave Jo a piggyback around the cottage, both adults screaming with glee as they paraded around.
To be honest, Jo didn’t have high hopes of keeping a relationship with Ted and Steve, especially after Operation lighthouse. It was unfortunate because Kate cared so much about them, and despite not knowing them, it automatically made Jo care about them too.
Christmas day passed too quickly. They started by opening presents. Kate got Ted a ‘Worlds Best Dad’ mug, and Steve bought him a customised top saying: ‘Not H’.
As well as last night’s takeaway, Steve bought Kate a sign he stole from AC-12 whilst drunk (don’t ask how he didn’t get caught) and an Alexa. Kate went for a more classy option: a framed photo of them wasted at a karaoke bar.
Finally, it was Jo’s turn. Due to Kate’s last-minute planning, the former DCI had no chance to buy Ted or Steve anything, but they didn’t mind; they hadn’t formed enough of a bond yet. However, Kate insisted she presented her present first. The DI could hear her heart thumping in her ears as she handed Jo the small jewellery box containing 2 necklaces, each with a personalised pendant: a small silver gun, the other a golden car. Jo admired them with adoration; every detail had been etched into the metal, even the make of Steve’s getaway vehicle.
“A matching set?”
“To remind us of how far we’ve come.”
Jo wasn’t sure how her present could top Kate’s but proceeded with the gift-giving. It was a weighted blanket, a set of bond touch bracelets for when Kate went back to work and a cute little photo book personalised with added newspaper clippings, annotations, dates and locations relating to their relationship.
Jo’s act of love deeply touched Kate’s heart. A series of small yet meaningful presents was definitely her speed, and Kate couldn’t stop herself from flicking through the photobook and admiring all the small details like her favourite colour, preferred flowers and location coordinates which Jo had marked in.
“It’s adorable. Thank you, Jo.”
Jo simply nodded as she sat in Kate’s lap, fiddling with the silver gun around her neck. Kate Fleming had the car, of course.
Unable to move after the Christmas dinner, the group spent the rest of Christmas relishing each others company. Jo and Kate started by carelessly putting up the star, the former DCI needing a lift from her girlfriend to reach the top of the tree. Human Steve was with dog Steve, Ted had a cuppa and a newspaper, commenting on various political events, occasionally uttering a ‘mother of god’ making Kate, who was now squashed under Jo Davidson, chuckle.
That was the first Christmas where Jo had properly smiled.
☁️ ------------------- ☁️
Kate Fleming had been married once, and it was a disaster. Let’s just say she wasn’t ready for it. She had too many regrets, doubts and problems in her own head. That marriage put her off love for a while. Not only that, but the universal experience of being heartbroken was enough to make her want to stay single forever. That was the plan until Joanne Davidson arrived. Jo Davidson helped Kate discover who she was and become comfortable with her sexuality. The woman who helped her embrace the demons, who humbled her whilst building her up and never tore her down.
The DI was on the fence about her feelings until she almost lost Jo at the shootout with Ryan Pilkinton. On that night was when Kate decided to take Jo and run, the city wasn’t safe, and the pair wanted out. Unfortunately, the plan didn’t work.
That’s why Kate was standing by the door, ring in pocket, dog lead in hand, ready to propose to the woman she loved.
“Ready to go?” Greeted the Scottish accent she loved so dearly.
“I’m the one waiting for you, boss.” Jo lovingly ruffled the DI’s hair as she stepped out of their cottage, taking a freeing breath of air; she grinned when Steve bounded behind her and Kate linked their arms.
It was autumn again. The couple proceeded to the nearby hill path, through the arching oak trees, across the wooden bridge kate thought how nice it was to see Jo free from all those layers she used to wear at work. The former DCI swished her legs through the sea of leaves, and Kate did the same, both women snickering like toddlers when they flew up in her face.
Kate knew Jo would want something intimate and private rather than exotic and loud, so she planned to propose at the top of the hill which overlooked the city. Kate had timed the walk perfectly so the sun would set, and she could properly see the golden tones reflecting on her lover’s face.
Finally reaching the top of the hill, Kate admired how perfect Davidson looked as she gazed contently at the sunset, contrasting against the flushed sky. Steve the dog sniffing around for squirrels Kate realised they had the perfect family.
“Jo?” Kate looked calm, but inside, she was terrified of rejection, “Forgive me for not saying this earlier; I just didn’t know how to word it.”
Aware that she had Jo’s full attention, she swallowed the nonexistent doubt and continued.
“I love you. I love how sweet you are with kids. I love how you get sleepy when it rains. I love how you fiddle with your fingers when nervous. I love how you’re obsessed with skittles but only the yellow ones. I love how you turn your head into my hand when I play with your hair. I love how insanely ticklish you are. I love how you adore being the little spoon, even if you won’t admit it for anything. I love how you drive so. So carefully when someone else is in the car. I love how you can’t pass a field of cows without saying ‘cows’. I love how you hug every dog you see. I love how you scrunch up your nose when you feel like you’re going to sneeze.”
Kate knelt down on one knee.
“I love your fear of fireworks. I love how cuddly you are when you’re tired. I love all of that and everything else too, and I could keep going all day with listing all the millions of things that make you Jo. I love you, Joanne Davidson, and I am always going to love you.”
She pulled the box from her pocket, presenting it to her lover.
“Joanne Davidson, will you marry me?”
Jo looked starstruck, but after what seemed like hours, she shook her head. Kate went numb, her face fell, and her eyebrows furrowed in confusion. The DI didn’t even feel Jo take the box from her hands’ nevermind see Jo taking a knee.
“You seem to be giving all the speeches lately.”
The Scottish accent pulled kate out of her daze, and the taller woman tenderly gasped at the sight of Jo Davidson, down on one knee and offering her a ring.
“I don’t think you realise the impact you’ve had on my life, Kate. You saved me. Not just from the OCG but from myself, and I don’t know how to ever thank you for that. Through the time we’ve known each other, you’ve been my knight in shining armour. You stormed the tower-like Flynn Ryder when Rapunzel needed help, risked your job just to get us out of the city. You intercepted the transport vehicle, and without you, I wouldn’t be here today.”
Jo couldn’t contain her grin as she witnessed Kate's reaction.
“The only time is smile is when I’m with you, Kate. I can be myself around you, and I’ve never been more thankful to have someone in my life. When we first arrived, you told me that we shouldn’t start again because our story makes us who we are. I’m ashamed it took me so long to realise this. We’re here today because we made choices we can’t change, and even though it’s broken me and built me back up, there’s no one else I’d rather go on this journey with. You, me and Steve, of course.”
Kate felt like she was on top of the world and the following sentence was everything she wanted to hear and more.
“Please, Kate Fleming. Will you marry me?”
Obviously, Kate said yes.
☁️ that ending honestly makes me feel sick so I wrote my own. I'm glad Jo found happiness - she deserved it. but we all know it should've been with Kate. thank you for reading bestie x 😔 ☁️
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spideyanakin · 3 years
Text
Far From Home - Part 3
Peter Parker x Reader
Synopsis; Coming from another reality yourself, what will happen when you see straight through the lies of the mysterious Quentin Beck.
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So much for Peter's Eiffel tower plan, Nick Fury had decided to change Peter's wish of staying on the down-low and highjack your summer vacation. The morning was dusted in a cold mist between you and Peter that didn't go unnoticed to Ned and Betty.
"You should talk to her dude," Ned said as the silence between the two boys became too dominant.
"No." Peter shook his head. "I don't know what to say, and I don't want to make things worst, we'll just... go to Paris, and I'll apologize." He smiled like nothing was wrong, the sight of you talking with Brad in the distance becoming unbearable to Peter.
As Peter tugged onto his suitcase trying to get to the van that would lead them to the airport, his face fell as he was met with Nick Fury's jet black bus, Dimitri standing right in front.
Peter watched anger bubbling in the pit of his stomach as Brad helped you securely store your suitcase in the compartment of the bus.
"Thanks, Brad." You smiled secretly eyeing Peter from a distance as you pressed a quick kiss to Brad's cheek liking the way Peter's face fell.
"No problem Y/n/n." Brad's face painted with a large smug as he turned around flipping Peter off as you already had your back turned and entered the bus.
~
"Brad could you hand me my bag please?" you asked making sure you were loud enough for Peter to hear, happy that jealousy was rising in him.
"Of course." He smiled as he grabbed your bag that had rolled down the alley after a few bumps on the road.
"Thanks, you're the best!" You smiled before leaning back in your chair, plugging your headphones before he could even say a word back, closing your eyes and getting lost in a long train of thoughts about Peter.
The quick stop made you jet wide awake. You grumbled something as you fixed your sweater putting your shoes back before standing up and walking out, Dimitri pointing to the building in front.
"Wait so Fury wants us to fight?" A few seconds later you were standing in an old building in the middle of the road, Peter sheepishly standing in front of you. Fury wanted you to fight against those elementals, your anger bubbled inside you waiting to explode.
The lady didn't seem to talk much as she handed you the suit again, confirming the fight in Prague.
"Im not changing in front of him" You grabbed the jet black suit. "I'll call Nick Fury to tell you how it fits." You nodded scared to be disrespectful to the women before bumping into Peter as you walked towards the door loudly closing it behind you.
You stuffed the suit in your bag, making sure no one watched. Once you were satisfied, you slipped a pack of candy you had previously bought in Venice and zipped your bag up, placing it on one shoulder before walking back towards the bus, grumbling as your anger towards Peter and Fury only grew.
"You ok?" Brad asked you as he took the last step down from the bus, seeing the frown on your face.
"Yeah don't worry about it." You passed right through him, too angry to do anything to anger Peter by interacting more with Brad and climbed the few stairs taking a seat in the same corner as before.
"Dimitri?" You asked once the last person had left.
"hmm?" The strong man nodded before turning around to face you.
"How long have you been working for S.H.E.I.L.D?" You wondered as you took your shoes off and opened the bag of candies, plopping one in your mouth.
"Long time," he replied with his thick Russian accent.
"How come I've never seen you before?" You folded your arms as you settled even more in the seats of the bus. "I hang out with Nick Fury all the time." You questioned Dimitri and for the first, in the short time you had met him, he smiled.
"That's because I work in the European quarters."
"Ah. Makes sense." You shrugged before looking at the window getting lost in a small train of thought.
"So you really think this Mysterio guy is a fake?" Dimitri questioned after a short moment of silence and you nodded.
"Yeah! I mean, I come from another reality myself. His story doesn't hold and he can't just poof from one reality to another, you either need training or powers that make you jump through space portals."
"Like Strange?"
"Exactly like Strange. That's how I got here. My best friend is a reality keeper, that's how we saved ourselves." You shifted your stare as your words became uncomfortable for you to say. "And those elementals aren't real. No one will believe me..." You sighed as you felt your eyes getting glossy. Not even Peter, the one you thought was the love of your life didn't believe you.
"How can you be so sure? You never got a chance to explain yourself yesterday..." His thick accent brought a smile to your lips.
"I'm connected to the elements, no matter the reality the elements are always the same. Water always has the same force... The same chemical reaction with air if you want me to put it that way. It doesn't change whether the reality. Same with fire or air or the earth... What I felt in Venice wasn't water. I felt nothing but air, flat normal air." You sighed, taking another candy as a way to cope. Dimitri stayed quiet, thinking of ways to convince Fury to at least listen to you.
"I don't know who that Quentin guy is... But he's definitely not saying the full truth." You continued before opening your phone, definitely needing a change of ideas. "That's the one reason im agreeing with Nick Fury's plan."
"To keep a close eye on Beck?"
"Exactly." You replied shifting in your seat as you started getting lost on your social media.
Dimitri sighed and looked at the small patch of grass that he had parked on, not knowing what to say. But before another word could be shared, Flash and his group of friends climbed into the bus, Flash's loud voice for his live making you plug in your headphones.
You thought it was going to be a peaceful ride until you spotted Peter with what you recognized to be Tony Stark's glasses sitting on the rim of his nose with panic in his eyes. He made eye contact with you trying to reach for help, pointing towards the back of the bus where a killer drone was casually soaring in the air on its way to kill. Your eyes widen and Peter suddenly made the bus turn around, screaming to everyone for baby mountain goats. Your stare becoming serious as Peter went back down after destroying it.
Brad suddenly came sitting next to your making you grumble as he broke you from your peaceful moment of trying to get over Peter.
"I'm not interested, Brad." You deadpanned as he almost stuffed his phone in your face.
"But- wait I swear this is-" He stammered as he tried to find something, nervously scrolling through his phone.
"Brad- just leave. Please."
The rest of the day flashed in front of you feeling like only angry grumbles towards Peter and complaining.
"Im not going to argue with you again." You stammered as you walked straight past Peter who was desperate to make amends. After his hopes to recover your truth in Paris, this was Peter's only hope.
The matching black stealth suits that you were both given made Peter's head spin as he watched your beautiful figure walk by in it, forgetting for a second about your fight. He watched as you placed your mask on, this time it covered your entire face and like usual your hair was loose behind you.
You looked around the grounds as you slightly jumped off the roof of the building, passing right my Mysterio on the way. You caught yourself using the winds and started walking around the crowd of festivities.
"You're lucky to have a girl like that." Mysterio broke Peter's moment of staring as you approached the fountain where the 'heatwave' was spotted.
"Yeah..." Peter sighed as he approached the border of the building ready to swing away. "But... I think we're over." He played with the tips of his gloved hands as he felt the new tears rise up to his eyes.
"oh."
"She's mad at me becaus-" He turned around to face him, thinking of rambling his feelings out for a few minutes but quickly catching himself. "Nevermind." He shook his head letting out a sad chuckle as he felt the tears line up, pushing them away as he got ready to execute the plan.
You couldn't feel a hint of heat as the ground suddenly melted, a giant fire monster slowly rising from the iron and metal that decorated the area.
You took a few steps back and placed your hand on the floor, freezing the ground in a few seconds, waiting until it reached the monster. But as it did, your powers felt as though they were on autopilot as you blinked for a few seconds watching the ice slowly invade the monster.
Sensing something was wrong, you fully let go of your powers as though you weren't doing anything, and to your surprise, the ice continued by itself as though you had never stopped using it.
You watched keeping a hand on the ground to fool Mysterio, watching when the monster melted the ice that magically appeared.
"Who is this man?" You whispered to yourself as you looked around sensing the small flying things that scattered the air. Suddenly a web shot right across you sticking to one of those invisible flying machines that clouded the air, loudly dropping a piece onto the floor.
You eyed it with your sharp eyes and started walking to it, to your surprise spotting MJ as you did.
"MJ!" you accidentally called out her name, placing a hand over your mouth in panic, stammering on your wowhatever do you know my name?" She questioned with a knowing smirk as she held onto the electronic piece.
"I- I have to go but, you- you hang on to this alright?" you asked as she stared at you with a knowing look. "And be careful, please" you sighed and she smiled as she was now 100% sure it was you and Peter behind the mask.
The rest of the fight went just as Mysterio planned. Just enough chaos and just enough everything to make Peter believe every single lie Mysterio wanted him to believe.
"You didn't want to be here." You winced as Nick Fury ended his sentence directed at Peter. "And you." He turned you a mix of anger and disappointment rising. "Do you see what could have happened if we didn't fight that thing?" Nick Fury pointed to the mess. "Fix what ever your powers are telling you, but you owe this man an apology." And with that Nick Fury turned on his heels and headed to his car leaving you and your anger.
Both you and Peter felt like tearing up, Peter definitely showing it more than you were. You balled your fist up making the wind blow around everyone without even realizing it.
"Let's get some drinks kids." Mysterio placed a hand on your shoulder to calm you down. He nodded towards you and you angrily turned your body away, Peter too devasted by Fury's words to notice the interaction.
"No." you almost screamed. "I don't know what evil things you have planned or how you managed to do that but I won't follow you anywhere!" You cried out and tried to release your hand from his grip but he brought you close to him.
"You'll be sorry for that." His grip on your wrist became harder, almost hurting you, Mysterio releasing you as you were terrorized in
fear.
"you will regret this." You pointed to Mysterio before turning around on your heels, wondering if Peter had even caught a word of the conversation.
"Well, Peter?" Peter turned around at the mention of his name. "How about a drink?"
"Im 16-"
"I'll just get you a lemonade then." He gave him a charming smile as he approached Peter, wrapping his arm around his shoulders.
You grumbled something that might have not been English as you walked back to the hotel. The cold air of the night whispering in your ears as you made your way into a few dark streets feeling a certain change in the air behind you.
Before you could even turn around to see, you were hit in the head by something heavy causing you to crash to the floor, the world becoming blurry before dark hit your eyes.
- - - - -  
@averyfosterthoughts​ @justifymyfeelings​ @slytherinambitious​ @ourfavoritesergeantbarnes​ @criminaly-supernatural​ @trustfundparker​​ @tomhollandreads​ @prettysbliss​​ @ksmy-99​​ @allycat449-blog​ @supernaturallover2002​
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jadedlavendergemini · 3 years
Text
A Summer To Remember
A/n: I know I’ve been promising this for two days now so I’m very sorry it’s a little late. The is not going to be a reader insert fic, I will worn you. I don’t have very much experience with that. And my smut isn’t as great as some as yours! So please feel free to critique me in any way!
Summary: Lexi Goldstein has one goal in her life, to be a model. Her boyfriend, who is inspired to become a big time actor insists on taking a break and working at a summer camp with the rest of their friends. What go wrong?
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“Alright, thanks for coming in.” The man said. “We���ll keep in touch.” He then gestured for the assistant to call in the next girl.
The blonde stayed still. “That’s it? You don’t need any other poses? Because I can-“
“No really, it’s okay. We’ll keep in touch if we need you.”
“But you took only like two photos.”
“Look,” he looks at the resume she hand handed to him earlier. “Alexis-“
“Lexi.”
The man rolls his eyes. “Lexi, you’re just not what we’re looking for. Again, thank you for coming in and good luck.”
Lexi steps away from her spot from the back drop. “Well What are you looking for? Because if it’s my hair, that’s what is was the last time! I can dye it? Red or brunette? Or is it my weight? I went down like 10 pounds in last couple of-“
 “It’s your rack.” The man says bluntly.
Lexi just stares at him. “Excuse me?”
“You’re too flat. I need bigger.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me, right? I’m a fucking D cup!” She glares, gesturing to her chest.
“Yeah, well this is for a bikini ad, sweetheart. I need a double D if we’re gonna sell these.”
The blonde crosses her arms uncomfortably and the man sighs loudly. He tears off a piece of paper from his assistant’s notes and scribbles with his pen.
“Tell you what,” he hands it to the girl. “Call this number and Tell them John sent you. They’re always looking for blondes.”
She nods looking at the paper. “Thanks,” she mutters and walks off to change.
————————xXx—————————
The Los Angeles heat is blazing as Lexi leans against the hood of her boyfriend’s van. After leaving her audition, she immediately called the number she was provided in hopes of getting another shot. She was embarrassed and upset to find that john’s friend was a director just looking for another girl for a Porno. Of course he was, it was Los Angeles after all. And now here she was, waiting in the summer heat as her boyfriend finishes with his aerobics class at their local gym.
Just as she lays her head in her arms in defeat, failing to keep her tears at bay she hears his voice
“Hey beautiful!” His voice is cheerful. “How did it go?”
He receives his answer when she lifts her head to see him walking towards the van, he can see her eyes water and lip tremble. He stops and his smile drops.
“Can you just take me Home?” She manages to ask, her voice cracking.
He nods and makes his way over to her side. She instantly falls into his chest as he wraps his arms around her. “Yeah, of course. Do you wanna talk about it?”
She shakes her head and sniffles. “No.”
“Alright,” he answers, rubbing her back. “Let’s get you home. Come on.”
He manages to guide her to the passenger side and helps her in, careful to close the door and get in himself.
About ten minutes into the car ride, Xavier finally decides to speak in chances of trying to cheer her up.
 “So the gang’s gonna come with us tomorrow.” He says. “Yeah, so Chet and Ray are down. And Montana even made a new friend who might want to come! It’s gonna be rad!”
Lexi was staring out the passenger window and showing no amount of energy he was currently showing.
Xavier looks to her in hopes to see her smile but frowns at her reaction. “Babe, it couldn’t be that bad. Even if you didn’t get it, it’s gonna be okay! You’re hot as hell and someone is gonna hire you!” He adds with a chuckle. “You’re bound to get a gig before me.”
“Oh it was bad.” She says, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. “He said I was flat chested. And that’s not even the worst part!”
He only scoffed. “Well he lied.”
“He gave me a number to call. Said they were looking for blondes so I called.”
“And?”
“It was for Porn, Xavier!” She dropped her head into her hands and sobbed. Xavier was quiet as she continued. “God, I am so embarrassed. I can’t believe that’s all they think I’m good for.”
Xavier waited a minute before speaking, looking for the right words. “Lexi, that’s not true. Those guys are just douchbags. You are model material, babe! You are NOT going to end up doing porn. Trust me, I won’t let that happen.”
She looked up at him through glossy eyes. “I’m just so tired of there always being something wrong with me. I fucking hate this city.”
They pulled into the driveway of her family’s home. She was already reaching for the door handle when Xavier reaches across to stop her. “Lexi, there is nothing wrong with you. Don’t let that asshole make you think like that. Stay with me tonight? We can watch some movies, order pizza and then we leave for RedWood tomorrow.”
Lexi lets her hand fall from the door handle. “Xav, I’m not sure about this Camp Red Wood thing. It’s the whole summer and I hate being responsible for a bunch of kids. Especially right now, after today. I should probably just look for a real job.”
His brows furrowed. “Lex, come on. I already told that Margaret lady you were in! Plus we’re getting paid so technically it IS a job. This city is about to go nuts over the damn olympics. All our friends are going! Babe, don’t make me beg.”
She looked over to him. Oh god he was pouting. “Cut That shit out, Xav.”
“Please, Lexi.” He continues. She feels her lips begin to curve into a smile over the action. Xavier’s real goofy side was something he only really shared with her. “Pleeeeeeease.”
Lexi rolled her eyes. “No.”
He drops his pout and another idea pops into his head. “You know there is a lake there. Probably would be a great place for a late night swim,” his hand falling into hers and moving both towards her lap. His voice lowering. “You know, with NO swim suits.”
“I don’t know about you, but I’ve always wanted to have sex in the woods.” His lips ghosted over hers. She giggles before closing whatever space was between them and pressing her lips to his.
She pulls away just as he tries to go in for another kiss. “Alright, Romeo. You got me. Let me go in and grab my things, I’ll be right back.”
——————————————————-
After a quick shower and encouraging words to herself in the mirror, it was almost as if Lexi’s terrible interview today never happened. Xavier has kept his promise with the bribe of movies and pizza that night. But both were forgotten as the couple were currently wrapped in each others arms in the next room.
“You know,” Xavier began as he pressed his lips along her neck. “I meant what I said about the whole sex in the woods thing.”
“Oh I know you did.” She responded, wrapping her legs around his waist. “I would not put it past you to get that kind of idea.”
“It’s gonna be a great summer, Lex. I promise.”
Tag list: @instincts-baby @lanadelbitch @dark-mei-rose @lovelylangdonx @blakewaterxx @fckinsupreme
If anyone else wants to be tagged just lemme know!
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alecmagnuslwb · 3 years
Text
Rent a Holidate
Read on AO3
Magnus is barely paying attention as his father blathers on about his annual Thanksgiving party. It’s the same as every year, food made by an overpaid chef, schmoosing clients and Magnus being expected to attend and behave.
They don’t even really celebrate Thanksgiving and it’s definitely not about family coming together to be thankful for the things they have and the love they share, it’s a way for his father to impress his clients with the size of his house and the happy little family picture that he, whoever his latest wife is and Magnus make. It’s a fake night, filled with fake rich people that Magnus loathes more and more every single year.
There’s a pause on his fathers end of the line and Magnus scrambles assuming he was asked some sort of question.
“Yes, of course,” he says hoping that’s the right answer. Evidently it’s neutral considering his father’s monotonous response.
“Fine then, I hope that he or she will be an acceptable date for the evening,” his father says. Oh shit, he thinks, did I just agree to bring a date to this thing?
For a moment he considers backtracking saying he won’t be bringing anyone, it’s not like he’s been on so much as a half decent date in over a year, but he knows his father, once you’ve said something you act on it, no turning back. So instead he grits his teeth and accepts he’ll be bullshitting his way through an emergency excuse to why his fake partner couldn’t attend the night of.
“He is very acceptable,” Magnus says faux cheery conjuring up a fake boyfriend in his head. Not that any partner of his could be deemed acceptable by his father, his father even finds his own career path teaching English at NYU to be an underperformance.
“It’s not Columbia,” he always says whenever Magnus talks about his work.
“Well, then I look forward to meeting him,” his father says not at all sounding like he’s looking forward to it. Which is good considering Magnus’ supposed boyfriend is a complete fabrication. “I’ll see you in a week.”
And just like that he hangs up, no goodbye, nothing.
Magnus sighs tossing his phone into the graded paper box on his desk and begins crafting a personality and profession for his fake boyfriend just in case he needs a more solid alibi.
***
Magnus laments his woes to Dot and Catarina later that night, it’s Thursday which means mimosas and movies.
“Part of me just wants to make up an excuse and be done with it, it’s not like he’ll even remember in a week’s time after the fact that I ever even had a supposed boyfriend,” Magnus says pausing to take a sip of his mimosa. “The other part of me just wants to bring the world’s worst date and embarrass him to no end.”
“You mean Camille wasn’t the world’s worst date?” Dot says curling up in the chair beside Cat with her own mimosa in hand.
“Camille was the world’s worst date, but she never was one to make a scene, she was quietly and privately terrible,” Magnus says moving quickly past the topic of his wicked ex. “I mean someone who’s not a bad person, just kind of a mess.”
“Why don’t you hire the guy Dot hired last year for her family reunion?” Cat says not even bothering to look up from her phone as she scrolls reading reviews for the movie they’re about to watch.
“Yeah he was great,” Dot says agreeing with Cat’s suggestion. “His names Alec. He can’t play straight to save his life which made it even better because my whole family was convinced I was not only dating a worthless degenerate, but a worthless degenerate gay man. Hilarious, honestly.”
She pulls up something on her phone and hands it to Magnus. It’s a Craigslist ad titled, Alone on Thanksgiving? Mad at your dad? Tired of your family’s absurd expectations?
He takes the phone reading the post entirely.
My name is Alec Lightwood, I’m a 28 year old almost felon who went to college for three weeks before dropping out. I have a Thunderbird that’s only a year younger than me painted like Eddie Van Halen’s red guitar. It’s hideous and embarrassing and I love it. I can play anywhere between the ages of 23 to 32 depending on if I shave. I’m a bartender and occasional bouncer when the need requires, I haven’t been seen not in a leather jacket with a tear in the back since high school, I’m gay and very bad at hiding it and I’ve even got an eyebrow scar that’s sure to raise a few eyebrows (get it, raise a few eyebrows).
If you’d like to have me as your strictly platonic date for a gathering of some sort, but have me pretend to be in a very serious relationship with you to torment your family, I’m game.
I can do these things at your request:
-        Openly hit on other guests while you act like you don’t notice (of any gender, I may be gay but I can embarrassingly hit on anyone even if it’s not convincing).
 -        Start instigative discussions about politics and/or religion (sports are off the table however unless your family are big into the Rangers or Islanders, then I can talk shit for days.)
 -        Propose to you in front of everyone and you tearily accept or you turn me down and I proceed to have a breakdown, but we resolve to work on our relationship much to your family’s chagrin.
 -        Pretend to be increasingly drunk as the evening goes on (sorry, I don’t actually drink anymore, but I used to. A lot. Too much in fact. I know the drill.)
 -        Start a screaming match with a family member, that could come to blows (but no one will be physically harmed, I promise) either inside or on the front lawn (if there is one) for all the neighbors to see.
I require no pay but the free food I will receive as a guest at any event!
We can meet prior to the event somewhere public and you can ask me any questions. And I mean any questions so that you feel safe.
-        Do NOT contact with unsolicited services or offers. Email me at: [email protected]
“Um, he’s a felon?” Magnus says looking up from the phone when he’s done.
“Hey, don’t judge, you’re not exactly rap sheet free,” Dot says scolding him with a smile. Which okay, he does have a few arrests on his record, petty little things and pick-ups at a protest or two, but felonies are a bit above that. He says that aloud. “Also, as it says he’s technically an almost felon.”
“He’s not a murderer or anything, I had Raphael check out his history before I requested his services,” Dot continues on to explain, referring to their friend who’s a prosecutor. “He got picked up for aggravated assault after he caught the guy who got his sister hooked on drugs in her bed shooting her up, it was a bullshit charge from a snake of a man who deserved every hit he got. The charges were ultimately dropped and settled when the piece of shit he beat up got hit with about ten felonies himself. He’s a good guy, like a really good guy I promise.”
“Didn’t Raphael even stress that he never would have convicted Alec in a million years on the charges?” Cat says getting up from her seat and heading to the kitchen to refill her mimosa glass.
Dot nods taking a sip of her drink. “He did, he said any jury would have sided with him over the 30 year old drug pusher preying on an 18 year old girl. And even though we can’t tell him, because we don’t want him to smirk about it all the time and get a big head, we both know Raphael is the best judge of character and lawyer in America.”
It’s true, Raphael always knows what he’s talking about.
“Plus,” Dot continues on. “Alec’s very upfront about it, I didn’t even need to do the background check he told me exactly what went down when we met for coffee before the event, even brought his sister along to corroborate and make me feel comfortable.”
“Wow,” Magnus says genuinely surprised by the decency of a man on the internet.
“Also, he’s very cute,” Dot smirks over the rim of her glass waggling her eyebrows in Magnus’ direction.
Magnus rolls his eyes. “I don’t think it matters if my fake date is cute.”
“So you’re gonna do it?” Catarina says coming back in the room, a pitcher filled to the brim with mimosa mix in her hand.
Magnus bites his lip in thought as he looks down at the phone in his hand again. He does want to cause a ruckus, he’s tired of being the perfect little son when his father needs him to be. And Alec Lightwood might just be able to provide the exact ruckus he’s looking for.
“What the hell,” he mutters before tossing Dot’s phone to her. “Do I need to email him, or do you still have his number?”
Dot smiles in delight as she taps on her phone his own phone buzzing in his pocket a second later with Alec’s number.
***
Alec keeps his text exchanges simple, offering to meet Magnus the following afternoon after Magnus’ noon class for coffee. Alec lets Magnus choose everything, clearly dedicated to making the person contacting him as comfortable as possible. Luckily for Magnus Alec’s had no inquiries for this Thanksgiving, except for one that was definitely unsavory and he turned down immediately.
With such short notice Magnus thought for sure this might not work out.
He walks in scanning the shop looking for Alec and comes up empty based on Dot’s description of him. He gets in line and orders a drink finding a table off to the side where it’s not too crowded to sit and wait. He’s barely settled into his seat when the chime above the door rings and in walks a stunner with long legs and dark hair.
The man pauses scanning the room, then his eyes land on Magnus his lips tilt up just a bit and he walks over his way.
“Magnus Bane?” he says in question when he reaches the table. Magnus is speechless for a moment as the sun catches in the man’s hazel eyes and on the tiny silver hoops in his ears. He shakes himself from the trance he’s in, ignoring the way his eyes shine a little greener when he tilts his head and nods his own head in confirmation.
“Alec Lightwood?”
“That’s me,” the man says with a smile that crinkles at the edges just a bit, he reaches out a hand that Magnus takes shaking it instantly enjoying the contrast of Alec’s cold fingers to his warm ones. Magnus squeezes his hand once before letting go. “I’m just gonna go get a drink and then we can talk,” Alec says stepping back with a tentative, but dazzling smile.
Magnus watches him go enjoying the view of his long legs in motion. He spots the tear in the back of his leather jacket, just like mentioned in his ad, and smiles. Alec comes back moments later a mug of black coffee in hang.
“So you need a bad date for Thanksgiving,” he says tearing open an obscene amount of sugar packets and pouring them into his mug. “I’m guessing before we get into that though, you want to know about the almost felony?”
Magnus shakes his head and Alec looks at him quizzically for a moment, before the puzzle pieces in his mind clearly fall into place.
“Dot,” he says in understanding. “She must have told you everything.”
“She did,” Magnus confirms taking a sip of his drink. “And for the record it sounds like you were in the right.”
Alec smiles a small uncertain smile almost like he’s not sure that’s the truth, but takes the words as a compliment anyways.
“It wasn’t my finest moment, I guess I’m just overprotective when it comes to people I love,” he says running his fingers along the rim of his mug.
“Getting a drug predator away from your sister isn’t just being overprotective, it’s doing the right thing,” he says genuine. He remembers when they were in high school and Raphael had his run with a bad crowd, it never came to it, but he would have done the same thing Alec did if the situation had presented itself.
Alec just shrugs looking off to the side. Magnus sees the uncomfortable set in his shoulders and shifts the conversation.
“You come highly recommended, Dot says you put on one hell of a show at her family reunion,” he says with a bright smile.
Alec’s shoulders ease and he turns back to Magnus with a smile.
“Dot barely needed me, she put on a performance just as stunning, I’ve never seen a woman so small body tackle so many people during what’s supposed to be a friendly game of tag,” he says with a chuckle.
Magnus has heard all about Dot’s deadly game and seen the bruises she proudly displayed from her somewhat violent performance first hand.
“Believe me it’s not the first time she’s tackled down a full-grown man,” Magnus says with a laugh fondly remembering a frat party, an unsuspecting frat boy and a fateful game of beer pong from many years ago.
“Somehow that does not surprise me,” Alec says rubbing a hand across his dark beard. The conversation shifts from there, Magnus giving Alec the full rundown about his father, his current stepmother and the all too haughty evening they’ll be subjected to.
Conversation flows easy between them, Alec seeming to understand a lot of Magnus’ struggles with his family life and Magnus finds himself wondering if there’s more to why he does this bit of charity for people in need.
“So, why exactly is it you do this?” Magnus asks, clarifying quickly when Alec raises his eyebrow in question. They’ve covered the felony yes and it’s clear that Alec just simply cares, but that’s not a full reason why. “I mean I believe that you’re just a genuinely good person who wants to help people, but it’s deeper than that isn’t it?”
Alec pauses for a moment rubbing the back of his neck nervously, Magnus is about to tell him he doesn’t have to explain if it’s an uncomfortable topic just as Alec starts to talk.
“I’m gay,” he says and Magnus smirks, the obviously on the tip of his tongue. Alec picks up on it smiling back. “Obviously, but for a long time I couldn’t be, or at least not at home. My parents are kind of rich, they’d do these big to do holiday parties every year for Thanksgiving and Christmas. When my siblings and I were little they were just big boring adult parties that we’d steal food from. Then we all got old enough to date and to have plans for the future.”
Magnus hums in understanding. That’s how his father’s parties had been, one day he was a kid just stealing cookies and hating the droll grown ups and the next he was a man expected to present himself in certain ways, ways that weren’t remotely who he was.
“By the time I was 21 I was still in the closet, and already on their shit list for dropping out of college, and I never dated and my parents were just determined to find me a wife. Every year it was so and so’s daughter is lovely and has such a strong education or so and so’s daughter is coming and I can’t wait for you to meet her,” he says twisting the coffee mug between his hands. “I’m pretty sure those holiday parties are how my drinking got so bad, forced heterosexuality and an open bar do not mix well together.”
He chuckles and Magnus takes that as an invitation to do the same. Again he gets it, he’s taken his fair advantage of the open bar at his father’s parties many times.
“And then one year my dad was going on about some girl who was at Thanksgiving dinner, I don’t even remember her name, but she was standing there and the whole time he’s talking about how she’s so pretty and so ready to start a family and I should make a move before someone else did. And I was losing my mind internally and evidently I’d had just enough to drink that I just screamed at the top of my lungs that I was gay.”
He pauses taking the last sip of his coffee.
“And then I just left after my mom was trying to talk to me about causing a scene. Then Christmas rolls around and to my extreme shock I get the invite. I thought for sure I was in for the lecture I’d been avoiding for a month, but instead they just acted like Thanksgiving hadn’t even happened,” he shakes his head. “They invited some other poor girl to try and marry me off to and just went on like I hadn’t had a big, gay outburst. My outburst was a lot bigger that time, after that I didn’t get any more party invites, they just cut me out entirely.”
Magnus reaches out resting his hand on Alec’s that’s drumming on the table. “I’m so sorry, Alexander,” he says trying out the full name for the first time guessing that’s what Alec is short for. He likes the way it rolls off his tongue and judging from the way Alec doesn’t correct him he ventures he got it right.
Alec just shrugs with a sad little smile on his lips. “It’s okay,” he says. “I mean it wasn’t back then, but I’m okay now. I don’t need my parents or their money, my siblings are still in my life and I’ve got a whole life outside of that. I can have my gay outbursts in peace now.”
Magnus laughs squeezing his hand once before pulling back, he’s been resting it there much too long now.
They talk logistics after that, establishing a plan for the holiday dinner. Alec immediately offers to bring his Thunderbird to drive to Magnus’ father’s place upstate.
“I don’t have the car not to be embarrassing about it,” he says and Magnus smiles insisting he pays for the gas then.
He spends almost three hours and four coffees with Alec and eventually finds they’re not even talking about the dinner in question, but they’re just talking instead.
It’s an unexpected development.
***
Coffee with Alec goes all too well and by the end of it they have a carefully cultivated story about how they met and how long they’ve supposedly been together all set in stone. Alec ensures him he’ll be the ultimate, best bad boyfriend for the night, and frankly Magnus is having a hard time believing it.
Alec is sweet, kind without even realizing it and looks like the living embodiment of tall, dark and handsome. If Magnus is being honest he’d love to take him out sometime as a real date more than a bad boyfriend for the night.
He calls Dot after they’ve said their goodbyes, walking to his apartment not far from the coffee shop.
“So how’d it go?” Dot asks immediately upon answering the phone.
“He’s incredibly charming without trying to be and cute is a fucking understatement, Dorothea,” he says looking both ways before crossing to the other side of the street.
Dot chuckles wildly on the other side.
“I’m serious, if I was given the opportunity to craft a man based on looks alone I’m pretty sure he’d be what I’d create, he’s gorgeous,” Magnus says as he reaches his building going inside and heading for the elevator.
“I may have undersold him slightly,” Dot says sounding all too innocent.
“And was there a reason for that, my dear?” he says. He’s starting to feel like he’s being set up.
“Perhaps,” she says and he can hear the gleeful smile in her voice. “You can thank me later, for now just enjoy your bad boyfriend.”
***
Five days later on the last Thursday of the month, Magnus waits outside of his apartment for Alec and at three o’clock on the dot Alec’s truly ridiculous car pulls up. It’s even better in person than he described.
The black, red and white lines are exactly like Eddie Van Halen’s infamous guitar and the ’93 Thunderbird is just on the right side of beat up. The left taillight is busted, covered in see through tape and there’s a sizeable dent in the passenger side door.
Alec steps out of the car, a vision in his signature leather jacket, black jeans with far too many tears and dark eyeliner around his eyes. It’s not neat like Magnus’ though, it’s messy. His whole look from his disheveled, but neat hair, to his trimmed beard to his scuffed boots is just on the right side of acceptable, but screams of a wild side as well.
Magnus isn’t as black tie as he knows his father would like him to be, wearing a deep red shirt and tight pants with a line down the side, his perfectly styled hair, curly and soft with matching red streaks running through it. They make a pretty attractive pair if Magnus does say so himself.
Magnus can’t wait to see how the evening plays out.
Alec smiles at him coming over to open the passenger side door, it takes a couple tugs to get it open.
“It’s a little finicky,” he says playfully bowing and gesturing for Magnus to get inside. “Your chariot awaits.”
Magnus smiles stepping into the car. Alec shuts the door tight rounding the car and falling into his seat.
“Ready to cause a scene?” Alec says with a devilish smile that Magnus finds hard to resist.
“Absolutely,” he says with his own answering smile as Alec turns the key and peels out onto the road.
***
The ride up takes about two hours all told with holiday traffic and every minute of it is delightful. Alec tells him more about himself, outside of the surface stuff they’d covered to make sure Magnus was comfortable with this whole night.
He learns Alec loves archery, has an affinity for trash shows like the Bachelor and has a vicious little cat he adores named Church. Magnus gives his own tidbits in return about his work at the university and his love of bad horror movies, laughing when Alec suggests their fiendish cats might just get along.
Magnus laughs just as they pull up outside of his father’s home, “Chairman doesn’t exactly play well with others.”
Alec shrugs. “Neither does Church, that’s why it’d be fun,” he says with a smile pulling his eyes away from Magnus looking up at the sprawling house before them. He slows the car to a stop pulling into a spot that makes the car perfectly visible from the wall of windows that line the living room where all the guests won’t be able to miss it.
“Damn,” Alec says as he steps out of the car, Magnus joins him where he’s leaning back against the front of his Thunderbird. His car looks amazingly out of place and perfectly hilarious parked between a silver Porsche and a sleek black Lamborghini. “Your father’s in real estate you said?”
“Amongst other things,” Magnus grumbles looking at the house that was always too big, that always felt hollow and empty to Magnus when they moved here after his mother skipped town.
“It’s way too big,” Alec says with a grimace looking it over one last time before offering his arm to Magnus. Magnus takes it guiding him to the front door. “And there’s way too many fucking windows.”
Magnus chuckles as they reach the door opening it automatically and walking in. The space is gaudier than the last time he was there, the walls where once his father and stepmother number four’s portraits used to hang now feature the latest wife and sadly the one of him that his father had commissioned years ago. It’s the last time he’d agreed to sit for one of his gaudy paintings, he’s young, barely 20 wearing a stiff suit and barely any makeup, he doesn’t look like him at all.
“Well that’s a painting,” Alec says looking at it. “I like this you better,” he says eyeing Magnus up and down. Whether he meant to or not there’s a lingering in the look, Magnus likes it. “That looks like somebody trying to be something they’re not.”
And just like that with one look at a painting, Alec nails him right on the head. Like he can read Magnus easily, a thing that just about no one can do.
“Come on,” Magnus says pulling Alec along down the garish hallway that leads to the large expanse of the living room. There’s a new chandelier hanging in the hall, riddled in way too many gems. He bets it’s a feature added by the new wife.
“Maggie!” a woman’s voice yells, speak of the devil, he rolls his eyes at the nickname no matter how many times he’s told her to drop it she just won’t. “Happy Thanksgiving!”
His stepmother comes bouncing over their way, her ridiculously high heels clacking against the hardwood floor. He can hear his father sigh from the other side of the room, more concerned with his precious oak floors than anything else in the world.
Magnus braces himself as she barrels into him hugging him tight, she releases him with a smile before turning to Alec and doing the same.
Alec’s eyes go wide in surprise, no matter how much Magnus described her to him there’s no preparing for hurricane Marissa. She pulls back adjusting her very not appropriate for the setting tight pink and black strapless dress with a smile, her fake tan looks a little lighter than usual and he’s weirdly proud of her for that.
“And who is this?” she asks reaching out to adjust Magnus’ shirt collar that she crumpled when hugging him.
“This is my boyfriend, Alec,” he says gesturing his way. “Alec this is my father’s wife, Marissa.”
Marissa playfully pats Magnus’ cheek, “Stepmother.” She says it pointedly holding out a hand to quickly shake Alec’s. He will never refer to her as his stepmother out loud, much like the past four wives Magnus bets Marissa will be gone in five years’ time tops, his own mother hadn’t even stuck around that long. Also, she’s 25, five years younger than him, and there’s no way he’s referring to her as anything remotely close to a mother.
“It’s lovely to have you in our home,” Marissa says to Alec gesturing to the room at large. Magnus looks around at the room full of people, most of whom he doesn’t remotely recognize. A few seem somewhat familiar in the most unmemorable sense. He’s sure they’re constant clients and rich cohorts of his father’s that have attended before.
“That it is,” his father’s voice says coming up behind his wife. He rests one hand on her shoulder and holds out another Alec’s way. “Asmodeus Bane.”
“Alec Lightwood,” he says a perfect gentleman returning his father’s handshake. They’d agreed to keep it civil for at the least the first introduction and then let the evening escalate from there. Magnus can tell just from looking at it his father’s grip is tight, commanding and borderline threatening, but Alec doesn’t even flinch.
“Lightwood, hm?” his father says eyeing Alec up and down frowning and Magnus can tell he already disapproves of what he sees. “Any relation to the Lightwood Consulting company?”
“Yes,” Alec says and Magnus smiles when he sees his father’s lips uptick in an impressed smile that immediately falls at Alec’s next words. “But they cut me out and off years ago, I’m the black sheep of the family if you will.”
Asmodeus just hums disappointed. “Well, that’s a shame,” he says. “So, how did you meet my son?” he asks not bothering with anymore small talk now that he’s already decided Alec’s no good, just jumping right in to the things he can criticize.
“Prison,” Alec jokes and Marissa titters delightfully. She quickly stops when Asmodeus looks at her disappointedly. “Just kidding,” he says. “I did my time there years ago, no we met at a bar.”
Asmodeus bristles at the prison mention, which is technically a lie, Alec only spent a few hours in a cell back when he was arrested, but his father clearly buys it as more. Magnus can tell he’s tuning out the rest of their crafted meet cute story, all about how three months ago Alec had a few too many drinks and almost got into a fight and Magnus had been his stalwart knight in shining armor.
“Love at first sight,” Marissa sighs clearly enjoying their made up tale. “Isn’t it sweet, Asmody?” she coos tugging on his father’s arm.
“Yes, quite sweet,” Asmodeus grimaces gripping his wife’s arm and pulling her away. “We’ll talk later.” He says looking directly at Magnus, essentially and completely dismissing Alec’s presence all together before stepping away. Marissa grins wide waving at them as she goes her long pink acrylic nails clicking together as she does so. Marissa may not be the brightest or subtlest bulb, but at least unlike many of Asmodeus’ past wives she’s nice enough.
“Well damn, do I even need to do anything else? He seems disappointed enough already,” Alec says shaking his head in disbelief.
“Now, where would the fun in that be,” Magnus says with a smirk, shrugging off his jacket. Alec follows suit and Magnus admires the view of his arms in a short sleeved well-fitting white button up shirt. His love of archery has made for some nicely toned muscle.
***
They mingle for a bit after Magnus deposits their coats in one of the coat closets, Magnus putting on his best son of the year smile while Alec downs glasses of water that everyone thinks is vodka at a fairly speedy rate.
It’d been his first task when they’d rejoined the party walking over to the bar with a smile.
“I need you to fill a bottle or two of vodka with water and keep serving me all night,” he said to the bored and disgruntled looking woman behind the counter. The rest of the hired help for the night must have been sequestered away in the kitchen until dinner judging by her being the first one that Magnus had spotted.
“You planning something weird tonight?” she questioned sliding Magnus a glass of red wine.
“Not weird, just disruptive,” Alec said so kind and so believable that the girl perked up.
“Well I love to see rich people who call me barkeep unironically disrupted, so you got it,” she said with a smile discreetly pouring out a bottle and refilling it with water before handing a glass to Alec as he dumped a sizeable wad of cash into her completely empty tip jar. God, rich people were cheap.
She’s been steadily serving him since.
Now they find themselves with a man who has to be bordering on 200 years old and it seems Alec decides it’s time to truly get to work.
“All that glitters,” the old man says talking about something that they’ve clearly both been tuning out.
“Glitters?” Alec says a little too loud, just enough so that everyone in their vicinity can hear. “You mean the place on 5th? My ex used to dance there, maybe you saw him, man knew how to work a pole if you know what I mean?” he winks at the old man and Magnus just barely stifles his laughter as the old man steps back in shock. He mumbles something unintelligible looking suddenly ill and paler than he had before and slips away.
Alec tosses back his drink and hands it to a passing woman in a truly hideous pantsuit that is definitely not a server, dragging Magnus along to the table of appetizers. He tosses shrimp into his mouth not bothering with a napkin, rubbing his hands on his ripped-up jeans making direct eye contact with a young woman, no doubt another trophy wife, as he does so. She scrunches up her nose and steps away.
Evidently despite his fairly small work so far he’s made just enough of a scene to garner Asmodeus’ attention once again.
“So, Alec, I assume that colorful vehicle outside is yours?” he says walking up beside the two of them. Their bartender and conspirator comes up just then handing Alec a fresh glass.
Alec smiles at her, before turning to Asmodeus. He’s not acting drunk yet, but he’s bordering on behaving tipsy.
He slings an arm over Magnus’ shoulder and brings him in close. Magnus settles a hand at Alec’s waste enjoying the proximity.
“Yes, that is my sweet Cherry,” he says naming the car on the spot. “Won her in a poker game when I was 18, crashed her three days later and have been patching her back together ever since.”
“A poker game?” Asmodeus questions, clearly becoming more disappointed by the minute.
“Yup,” he says cheerfully popping the p in the word. “Well, I wouldn’t say won directly, more cheated a guy and then fought him for it,” he pauses gesturing to the little sliced scar that runs through his left eyebrow. “That’s how I got this.”
“You wouldn’t believe how many tire irons a high school principal is carrying around,” Alec continues with a snort tossing back half of his drink.
Magnus just nods along in agreement to Alec’s concocted tale. He actually bought the car from his sister’s ex-boyfriend when he was nineteen for 200 bucks, but this story shocks far more.
“You mean to say you fought your principal for your car?” Asmodeus says judgement so very clear in his voice.
“High school, am I right?” Alec shrugs with a chuckle smiling down into his drink. Asmodeus looks appalled.
“Oh, come on don’t look like that father,” Magnus says placing his free hand on Alec’s chest and patting there lightly. Magnus can’t help but notice how solid the chest under his hand is. “I got up to some trouble in high school myself, surely you remember.”
Asmodeus just hums, clearly finding Magnus’ occasional wild parties without permission a dull comparison to the tale Alec just told.
“Never forget the time I streaked and jumped from the guest house roof to the trampoline and right into the pool, nearly broke my arm in the process,” Magnus says with a smile. Alec leans over burying his face in Magnus’ hair, careful not to mess it up, whether it’s to play up the PDA or stifle a laugh Magnus isn’t sure.
They’d had a whole conversation about PDA, Alec promising to respect his boundaries, no kissing and never a hand wandering beneath his waist.
“How could I forget,” Asmodeus says sharply embarrassed by his son’s antics. He turns towards the large windows and looks out to where the porch patio lights illuminate Alec’s car.
“It is so sexy that you did that,” Alec says ignoring Asmodeus and turning towards Magnus. He downs the rest of his drink and meet’s Magnus’ eyes, a question and idea brewing clear in them. Magnus smirks tugging at Alec’s shirt.
“You think so?” he says teasingly.
“Mm hmm,” Alec says biting his lip and Magnus knows this is all a part of the show, but god are those lips tempting.
Magnus catches Asmodeus turning his attention back to them looking outright furious. Magnus pulls away from Alec’s eyes and smiles a bright smile like they’re doing absolutely nothing wrong.
“I’m gonna give Alec the tour,” he says leadingly pulling Alec along by both hands and rushing away from the living room and down the hall before Asmodeus can say a word. He can see Alec’s smirk as he notices the stares of the other guests in the room.
Magnus doesn’t even pay attention to where they’re going as he pulls them into a room just off the right side of the hall.
“How’d you actually get that scar?” Magnus asks once they’re inside shutting the door behind him, no doubt convincing everyone they’re about to get down and dirty.
“Took a hockey stick to the face when I was 17,” he says pulling himself to sit up on a desk. A desk that Magnus now recognizes as his fathers. They’ve pulled themselves into his father’s office and if they get caught in here he’ll never hear the end of it, he loves it.
“You played hockey?” Magnus asks lifting himself up to sit beside Alec on the desk ignoring the papers he accidentally topples to the ground.
Alec nods in the affirmative. “I did, that’s why it’s the only sport I can start heckling fights about, everything else is boring.”
Magnus snorts at that, he’s never been partial to any sport himself.
“Did you really do what you said out there?” Alec asks picking up a notepad and flipping through it mindlessly.
“I did,” Magnus smiles and Alec’s eyebrows both go up. “Don’t look so surprised, you’re not the only one capable of mischief.”
“Oh, I see that,” he says with a smile tossing the notepad back to where he found it. “That is kinda sexy you achieved a jump like that and didn’t get hurt.” He says it with his voice low and all sorts of New York around the edges. He freezes his hand stopping over the spot where he’d been about to pick up the ugly green and bronze sphere shaped paper weight beside him.
Magnus freezes too, Alec saying something like that while they’re alone makes it real, not like the fake flirty way he’d said it out in the living room.
“Sorry, that’s not, I’m sorry, I never cross that line when I do these things, we’re alone and,” Alec runs a frustrated hand through his hair. “Fuck, I’m sorry.”
Magnus shakes his head reaching out and tentatively laying his hand atop Alec’s where it rests on the desk between them.
“It’s okay,” he says and Alec looks at him ready to argue the point. Magnus jumps in stopping him before he can say a word and taking his own leap into making this far more real than fake. “Really, it’s okay. You, uh, you’re not so bad yourself.”
Alec huffs a laugh opening and closing his mouth a few times like he’s looking for the right words to say. The space between them feels a little charged now that they’ve floated out the simple fact there’s a real attraction here. Alec closes his mouth and bites his lip looking determined like he knows what to say finally when the door busts open.
“Oh, my apologies boys,” Marissa says standing in the doorway her hands on her hips and a pleased little smile on her lips. “But dinner is served.”
Magnus and Alec pull away from one another quickly hopping off the desk and stepping towards the door.
“You two are just too cute,” Marissa says when they reach her. She loops each of her arms through one of theirs and tugs them down the hall happily. “Don’t listen to a word your father says.”
Magnus meets Alec’s eyes over her head only to find Alec already looking at him, a soft smile on his lips.
***
Magnus takes his proverbial spot on his father’s right at the head of the table, Marissa doing the same on his left. Despite Asmodeus’ clear attempt to keep Alec as far away from him and Magnus as possible by seating him at the far end of the long table he fails. Luckily one of Marissa’s friends, just as airy and tight dressed as her is seated next to Magnus and happily swaps spots with Alec.
Alec lifts his drink to Asmodeus in a faux toast that Asmodeus doesn’t even feign interest in as he takes his seat.
Dinner is served and it’s to be expected. The sweet potatoes are divine none of that weird marshmallow bullshit in them, the mac and cheese is literally to die for and the homemade bread hits in just the right way. The turkey is terrible, but that’s not at the fault of the overpriced chef that’s just simply because it’s an indisputable fact that turkey tastes like napkins.
Alec eats so much Magnus is concerned, he can tell from the tight fit of his shirt that Alec is in impeccable shape so he doesn’t really know where he puts it all as he goes for his fourth serving of mac and cheese.
But long before his fourth serving of cheesy goodness Alec starts up at least three debates that would be deemed far too impolite for their supposed polite company. Each fresh serving he corners someone new into a debate; first it’s an old lady in a pantsuit pulled into a debate about the existence of god, then a forty something who looks like he’s never seen a rainbow without feeling threatened into a talk on the merits of teaching queer history to children and finally a woman who can’t be much older than them who looks like her name is Tinsley or Ainsleigh or something equally as nauseating into a tense bordering on yelling match about the importance of safe abortion access.
He sounds a little more drunk with every conversation and he’s damn good at faking it. He sounds just the right amount of inebriated not slurring his words too much or fumbling around with his silverware, it’s practiced, a master class in being drunk without being drunk. Most people overplay it acting far more outlandish than a drunk person sitting at a table would, but Alec has it down pact.
Magnus watches him not a care in the world, acting like he doesn’t even notice the disruption Alec is causing. The only person aside from Magnus that doesn’t look increasingly more uncomfortable by the minute is Marissa who looks like she’s having the time of her life watching these stuffy rich people squirm.
Asmodeus of course does not look delighted, he barely eats, just scowls over the rim of his wine glass and attempts to deflect any conversation Alec purposely instigates another way unsuccessfully.
The only time he seems to look like he’s not about to have a coronary is when everyone’s plates are finally collected, Alec still shoveling the last bit of mashed potatoes on his plate into his mouth as one of the waiters lifts the plate away from him, and it’s announced that dinner and coffee will be served in the living room.
Alec stands stretching his arms up over his head and Magnus admires the ripple of his muscles as he does so before standing beside him. Alec reaches over the table picking up yet another glass of water and tossing it back with a loud unnecessary thirst quenched sound before holding out his hand to Magnus. Magnus takes it instantly with a smile following along as they head for the living room once again.  
***
A waiter takes their dessert requests, a choice of six different types of pie as they file out of the large dining room.
Magnus selects the pumpkin pie, while Alec chooses the chocolate pecan.
“Pecan, gross,” Magnus says as they work their way over to one side of the room a little bit away from everyone else to have just a moment of reprieve.
“How dare you, pecan pie is delicious,” Alec says sounding outright offended.
Magnus rolls his eyes and crosses his arms making a face that screams Alec is insane to have that opinion.
“It’s all sugar, no substance,” Magnus says. He really shouldn’t be surprised Alec’s favorite pie is one as ridiculously sugar based as pecan considering the amount of sugar he witnessed him dump into his coffee a few days prior. Alec doesn’t even deign him with a response, he just gives him another affronted look like Magnus has insulted his entire being, not a pie.
Moments later a waiter hands them each their requested pies. Alec takes a bite of his pointedly making eye contact with Magnus as he does so and making a pleased obnoxious yum sound. Magnus just rolls his eyes again, amused as he takes a bite of his own pie.
“So, are you enjoying yourself so far this evening?” Magnus asks after a few minutes of companionable silence.
Alec pauses grabbing a coffee from a passing tray and taking a sip, he grimaces a bit at the black coffee before answering Magnus’ question. Out of the corner of his eye Magnus sees his father watching them, almost looking excited to see Alec drinking a coffee, probably hoping it will sober him up.
“Well, your father is kind of terrible, and all these people are exhausting,” he says gesturing with his fork to the room at large after he sits his coffee on the floor next to him. “But despite the fact she may be a little air headed Marissa is lovely and I get a kick out of making rich people as uncomfortable as possible, so it’s been a pretty good night thus far.”
He pauses taking a bite of his pie and looking at Magnus from underneath his thick dark lashes. “Plus, you know, you’re pretty good company as well,” he says tapping his fork to his lips.
Magnus slow blinks at him and smiles.
“You’re pretty good company as well, especially when you’re just being you, like right now, not the overstated bad boy, even if he is a good time,” Magnus says. He reaches out his empty fork and boops Alec on the nose with it, just because. Alec scrunches up his face adorably at the action.
“Well I like you being you too, though it’s kind of fun you’re playing into my whole act, most people just play the none the wiser partner,” Alec says before leaning down and drinking another glug of his coffee. He makes the same cute displeased face again as he swallows.
“Really? No one’s made it seem like you’ve turned them into a crazy bad boy too?” Magnus says surprised. He’s been having a pretty good time being a little more instigative around his father than he usually would be.
Alec shakes his head. “Not really, Dot tackling her family members was a bit of an outlier, and honestly they’re almost never guys.”
“So I’m your first fake boyfriend then, huh?” Magnus says oddly flattered about the possibility.
“Second actually, but still most of the time I get hired by women, there’s a comfort in knowing that your fake date won’t try to make a move,” Alec says taking the last bite of his sickeningly sweet pecan pie.
“I guess I didn’t have a problem with that prospect,” Magnus says smiling around his fork looking right into Alec’s pretty hazel eyes, all dark rimmed and intent on him.
“I guess you didn’t,” he says with a smile putting his empty plate and mug on a passing tray and leaning back comfortably.
Magnus joins him leaning over by one of the sprawling windows casually finishing off his pie looking up to see one of his father’s political friends, a 30 something councilman of some sort, staring at them nearby. Alec, the little devil, winks at him slow and seductive. The councilman bristles and his wife beside him gives Alec an evil stare.
Magnus laughs a little, thinking that’s it for that interaction when suddenly the click of heels approaches them.
“Did you just wink at my husband?” the woman all but screams at Alec causing him to jump up from his slouch against the windows. Her head shakes as she speaks, her clip-on earrings wobbling.
“I,” Alec starts, but she doesn’t let him get in a word before she’s tossing her glass of white wine right at him.
“Oh, shit,” he says surprised and laughing a bit as he scrubs at his face his already messy eyeliner getting even messier in the process.
“Listen, lady I had no intention, your husband was the one staring,” he shouts back sounding a little more drunk than he did at the dinner table, they weren’t planning on Alec picking a fight tonight, but it seems he’s rolling with the one presented to him.
“Why you little, you little-“ she basically shrieks her husband pulling at her arm trying to stop her from taking this any further. Magnus steps in in front of Alec, a stern look of shutting shit down that he learned from his father on his face.
“You will want to watch your next words very carefully, wouldn’t want your husband’s constituents hearing any bigoted language coming from his already,” Magnus pauses surveying her bejeweled dress that looks like she’s going to a bad 80’s themed prom. “Tacky wife.”
She looks angrier at that, but Magnus’ stern look seems to usher her away, allowing her husband to pull her from the room.
The room is dead silent all eyes on them.
“Alright,” Asmodeus’ voice booms, everyone turning his way. “Show’s over, nightcaps will be served by the barkeep in the library shortly why don’t you all head in there,” he says gesturing to the way of the library. He steps over to Magnus and Alec as does Marissa who instantly hands Alec a towel.
“She’s always been a stick in the mud with bad taste,” Marissa says showing her own dislike for the councilman’s wife. “You didn’t do a thing wrong.” She smiles at them both apologetically before linking her arm in Alec’s and pulling him the way of everyone else. Magnus moves to follow, but is stopped by a hand on his chest from Asmodeus.
“We need to talk,” he says leaving no room for argument. Alec looks back at him from where Marissa is still chattering happily to him, a clear question of if he needs to cause a scene to stay with Magnus in his eyes. Magnus waves him on, watching as they go.
He barely waits until Alec and Marissa are out of ear shot to start in on Magnus.
“I know he’s faking it,” Asmodeus says and that is not what Magnus was expecting. He plays dumb though raising his eyebrows in question.
“Don’t act like you don’t what I’m talking about, I’d venture to say from the looks you two share you know all about it as well. You just brought him here and put on this whole show to embarrass me,” Asmodeus continues with a disappointed sigh. “That man hasn’t had a drop of liquor tonight, every action he’s taken hasn’t been some alcohol fueled mistake it’s been purposeful. He’s probably the most sober person here tonight. As far as I’d guess aside from truly being the black sheep of his family name and that truly atrocious car nothing that’s happened here tonight has been real.”
And alright, yeah Magnus definitely wasn’t expecting this. He expected his father to rail on his choice of partner, to knock Alec’s character and behavior and maybe Magnus’ to boot as well. He didn’t expect him to know exactly what’s been going on all night.
“And before you ask how I figured it out, you really should have made sure your date kept better track of his finished glasses, after dinner he left one behind and it didn’t smell of the vodka we’ve all been convinced he’s been downing all night,” Asmodeus explains. “From there a quick search told me the name was at least true. His family really did cut him out judging from his complete disappearance from all events, not that I can blame them, anyone who behaves this atrociously without influence of alcohol just to play a game probably deserves to be cut off.”
Magnus huffs out an unamused laugh at the underlying implications of his statement.
“Is that a threat?” Magnus says steely eyed.
“It could be, if you don’t get him out of here right this instant and promise to never try anything even close to similar to this charade again,” Asmodeus says just as steely eyed and Magnus hates that he learned the look from him.
For a moment he considers just leaving, hightailing it out of there with Alec and not saying a single other word to his father, but he’s tired. He’s 30 and he’s been putting up with his father’s vague threats if he doesn’t play the good little son role since before he could talk practically and he’s just done.
“No, we won’t be leaving,” Magnus says holding his ground. “And as for this charade well I guess I can promise you nothing like this will ever happen again, because I’m done. I’m done playing some perfectly crafted son that I’m not, I’m done acting like we’re a happy little family, like you won’t get bored of poor, sweet Marissa in no time and there’ll be a new wife on your arm who you’ll pay just as little attention to.”
“You’re right, I did do this to embarrass you, to show those fucking fakes in there that you are the fakest amongst them, even more so than all of them combined. Alec may have been playing a role tonight, but he’s ten times more real than you could ever dream to be. Don’t worry about having to cut me off and making a whole big show of it, I haven’t needed you or your money in years,” Magnus says. He straightens out his shirt and stands with his head held high turning on his heel to join Alec in the library.
***
Magnus is frankly riding high on truly stepping up to his father for the first and likely last time in his life when he saunters into the library scanning around to find Alec. He spots him in the corner chatting with Marissa.
“There you are,” Alec says sounding genuinely concerned. Magnus just smiles at him hoping it looks more assuring than it feels.
Marissa reaches out patting him on the cheek lightly. “Don’t listen to whatever he said, he’s just jealous he’s not as outstanding as you,” she says with a smile.
Magnus is struck in that moment with how much his father doesn’t deserve her, she might be a lot to take sometimes, but she is a genuinely kind woman.
“Nor as outstanding as you,” Magnus says with a smile and she blushes at the compliment. He’s ready to follow that up by telling her that she should leave his father’s ass immediately before he gets the chance to toss her to the side, but someone calls out her name and she’s pulled away smiling at them as she goes.
“Ready for the grand finale?” Alec says as soon as Marissa steps away. The grand finale, right, Magnus and Alec had discussed giving one last show before they left for the night if they managed to make it all the way through dessert. And they have, everyone’s nursing nightcaps ready to exit for the evening, but clearly all lingering around to see if Alec does anything else embarrassing or outlandish before they go.
Mere moments ago Magnus was ready to just storm out of here with Alec at his side and maybe ask Alec if he fancied going on a real date for a late-night drink somewhere.
But now with his father storming into the room after him, glaring and judging, looking quite possibly the most upset he’s ever been with Magnus he can’t seem to find a reason to go just yet.
“Let’s do it,” he says and Alec smiles tossing back his water and acting as if there’s a nice vodka burn to it. He grabs a discarded fork from a table nearby and taps it on his now empty glass so hard that it chips just a bit earning everyone’s attention.
“Could I have everyone’s attention please,” he says sounding a little bit like he’s sobered up after the near fight with the councilman’s wife. Most of the room looks their way eagerly like they can’t wait to see what happens next, while a few others apprehensively turn their attention.
“I met this stunning man not all that long ago,” he says laying his hands lightly on Magnus’ shoulders. “But in that short time, I have realized that undisputedly there will never be another for me. From the moment we hooked up in the back of Cherry the night we met,” he says not elaborating at all on that sentence, earning the shocked gasps and confused looks of many. Marissa giggles, Asmodeus seethes not loving this new addition to their fake meet cute story even if he knows it’s all a ruse now. “I knew you were the one, so, Magnus Bane,” he continues on getting down on one knee he pulls the plain silver ring he’s been wearing all night on his middle finger off and presents it to Magnus. “Will you marry me?”
Magnus pretends to be shocked covering his mouth with a gasp. His eyes flit up to where his father stands, looking like he’s about to make some move to physically stop Magnus from answering Alec’s question, like he won’t survive the embarrassment of this room full of people knowing his sons engaged to a degenerate in messed up jeans even if he knows it’s not real. Magnus doesn’t give him the chance immediately looking down at Alec with glassy eyes.
“Yes, Alexander, yes,” he says no longer hiding his amused grin as Alec slips the ring on his finger and lifts up from the ground pulling Magnus into a crushing hug. The room claps tentatively, enthusiastically in Marissa’s case who it seems does not care how insane something is she just loves love. How she ever ended up married to his father, who only truly loves himself, his hardwood floors and his hair is a continual mystery.
“Wanna get the fuck out of here?” Magnus mumbles into Alec’s ear. Alec pulls back from their hug and nods enthusiastically.
“Do I have your permission to bridal carry you out of here?” Alec says lowly ensuring no one can hear him.
“Oh, hell yes,” Magnus says delightedly as Alec lifts him up and makes for the door.
“We’re gonna go celebrate in the back of Cherry again,” Alec announces proudly to the room as he goes. Magnus pats him on the shoulder guiding him to the coat closet where he quickly grabs their jackets, Alec never losing his grip on him.
Asmodeus shouts after them as they head out the door, Alec pausing at his car and planting Magnus down on the ground gently. He tugs at the door three times before it opens gesturing for Magnus to get in as he ignores his father’s bellowing shouts. Alec playfully salutes Asmodeus and slides over the hood of his car bumping into the Porsche beside him setting off it’s car alarm as he lands and slips into the driver’s seat quickly.
He starts the engine peeling out of the space just as Asmodeus reaches the front of the car. Magnus just blatantly ignores him only catching sight of Marissa standing in the door waving their way as they drive off.
***
The ride back is quiet for the first twenty minutes or so, music playing softly as Alec drives drumming his fingers along the steering wheel to the beat.
“My dad figured out you were faking it,” Magnus says with no preamble looking out the window as they go. The roads are mostly empty now people celebrating the holiday into the late hours with their families before waking up at 5 a.m. to Black Friday shop.
“Shit, there goes my Oscar,” Alec says eyes flashing to Magnus quickly with a laugh before focusing back on the road. Magnus chuckles in response.
“Well, it’s an honor just to be nominated,” Magnus smiles tilting his head towards Alec.
Alec snorts a little laugh then turns his head quickly to Magnus once again.
“Did your dad give you a lot of trouble about it?”
“He did, I don’t think I’ll be getting a Christmas invite after I railed back at him,” Magnus says. “But it’s okay. I think it was just a long time coming, bound to happen. Better to get it over with now before I wasted more years trying to seem like I’m something I’m not just to please him.”
Alec comes to a stop at a red light and turns his attention fully to Magnus.
“Are you okay? I mean shitty or not, having a parent cut ties isn’t easy, trust me I know,” he says. Magnus watches him enjoying the way the red of the stoplight cuts through his dark hair.
Magnus takes a deep breath and gives Alec a small assuring smile.
“I will be,” he says, truly meaning it. The fallout with his father is a lot, but he will be okay. He’s lived without his father being truly present in any form since the day his mother walked out on them, this new world where he’s likely all cut off isn’t anything new really. He’ll manage, hell he might even thrive without the chains of his father’s expectations weighing on him now.
The light turns green and they lapse back into comfortable silence for the rest of the ride, Magnus completely endeared as he listens to Alec mumbling the lyrics to every other song that comes on the radio under his breath.
When they pull up to the curb outside of Magnus’ house Alec steps out first ever the gentleman helping Magnus with the finicky passenger side door.
He holds out a hand helping Magnus out and smiles when he drops it shutting the door tight.
“Well, thank you for the free meal and the fun night of mischief,” Alec says leaning back against his Thunderbird. His eyeliner is a mess and there’s a faint dried spot along his white shirt stained from the wine incident, he looks beautiful under this streetlight and Magnus wants more night like this. Well maybe not exactly like this one, it’s been a bit of rollercoaster for him emotionally, but nights with Alec all the same.
“Go out with me,” he says not even framing it as a question. He knows Alec is interested too has seen it in the moments where he was just being himself and the appreciative glances he’s given Magnus all night that clearly weren’t just a part of the show he was putting on. And that doesn’t even cover their coffee the other day, the easy way they’d talked and just clicked right off the bat.
“For real, not a fake date or a bad boyfriend show, a real date,” Magnus clarifies when he notices Alec’s surprise.
“I’d like that a lot,” Alec says pushing off the car. He steps a little closer to Magnus leaving just a bit of distance for Magnus to clear if he wants. Magnus does want so he steps up not quite touching Alec, but close enough all he’d have to do is raise a hand. It feels almost like when they were in his father’s office tonight, but even better because they’re alone for real now, there’s no show and no chance of interruptions.
“I need the record to show that I literally never do this, not once, I haven’t even been interested, let alone made any sort of action to make something real out of one of these fake dates,” Alec says low and sincere keeping his eyes on Magnus’ the entire time making sure the words are clear. “You are entirely the exception.”
“Entirely exceptional, actually,” he adds on with a smile. Magnus smiles reaching out his hands to rest on Alec’s chest.
“So are you,” he says patting his hands twice where they rest. “And I believe you aren’t just doing this to pick up hot guys, no worries.” He says with a chuckle and Alec rolls his eyes.
“What are you doing tomorrow night?” Alec asks.
“Nothing, no classes until next Tuesday and most of my friends are out of town for family dinners and what not. I’m as free as a bird,” he says blinking his eyes just a bit flirtatiously at Alec.
“Good, we should get dinner, no family, no bullshit, just us,” Alec says tentatively resting his hands on Magnus’ waist.
“I like the sound of that,” Magnus says lifting up to kiss Alec on the cheek softly just once before pulling back.
“I’ll text you with a time and place in the morning,” he says slowly stepping backwards holding Alec’s steady gaze as he goes. He turns just for a moment putting his key’s in the door and pushing it open before turning back. “Goodnight, Alexander.” He says and watches as Alec smiles a dazzling smile before rounding the car and opening the driver’s side door.
“Goodnight, Magnus,” he says before slipping into his car. Magnus watches with a smile as he pulls away from the curb, his bright red ridiculous Thunderbird speeding away. The smile doesn’t leave his face as he makes his way all the way up to his apartment, so much so that he’s pretty sure his cat is judging him all the way to bed.
***
One Year Later
Magnus’ phone buzzes insistently his ringtone blaring on the nightstand.
“Stop that,” he says weakly reaching out an arm to silence it, his hand falling to the nightstand and coming up empty once, twice, three times while it continues to ring. It’s far too loud and far too early on a holiday with no responsibilities for this.
A chuckle comes from above him and warmth reaches over brushing his fingers before gripping the phone and pulling back.
“Magnus Bane’s phone,” Alec answers his voice a little lower and rougher than usual from sleep. It’s a very nice sound. Magnus can’t hear who’s on the other end of the line, but when he flips over he sees Alec smile and perk up a bit leaning back against the headboard.
“Yeah it is Alec, it’s good to know you remember me, Marissa,” he says and Magnus raises an eyebrow he’s only heard from his father’s wife once since last Thanksgiving, an apologetic text on his father’s behalf. His father on the other hand hasn’t so much as sent a sternly worded email in that time.
“Yeah, he’s here, hold on sec,” Alec says, he lowers the phone offering it to Magnus who grumbles a bit lifting himself up and leaning against the headboard next to Alec.
“Hi, Marissa,” he says clearing his throat a bit.
“Magnus!” she shouts into his ear and he jumps back a bit, from the both the volume and from shock hearing that she’s finally dropped her terrible nickname for him. “I was glad to hear Alec answer the phone, I knew you two were a good match, even if it was all a show that night.”
“Ah,” Magnus says. “So father told you.”
“He did, but it doesn’t change that you two are the cutest,” she says. “Which speaking of your father,” she starts and Magnus is ready to shoot down any attempt at reuniting she’s trying to pull here. Marissa is a nice woman, but his father’s silence in the past year has spoken volumes, he’s not playing into a reconciliation he can’t even make the call for.
“I left him,” she says finishing her sentence. Magnus huffs out a little surprised laugh that Alec raises an eyebrow at, well good for her. “About a month ago and I know it’s incredibly short notice and you might have other plans, but I’m having a little Thanksgiving dinner of my own with a few friends this year and I’d love to see you. And Alec too, of course!”
Magnus smiles, they’d had a Friendsgiving slash one year anniversary celebration over the weekend with Raphael, Cat, Dot, Ragnor and Alec’s siblings, tonight’s plans were likely going to consist of Chinese takeout on the couch and making out. And while Marissa can be a lot she was always kind, and he can’t help but recall how supportive she’d been that night a year ago. He can’t find it in himself to turn down her offer because of it.
“We’d love to,” he says and Alec looks at him again in question. Magnus just waves a hand signaling he wait a moment for explanation. On the other end of the line Marissa claps excitedly.
“Yay!” she says. “I’ll text you my address, I’m in the city now so Alec might have to leave Cherry at home.”
Magnus laughs. “Oh, he might bring her anyways.”
He chats idly with Marissa for a few more minutes before disconnecting and promising they’ll be on much better behavior this year for dinner.
“Marissa left my father,” Magnus says as soon as he’s hung up and tossed his phone back on the nightstand. Alec smiles looking just as oddly proud for her as Magnus feels. “And we’re having Thanksgiving with her and some friends tonight.”
“Good for her,” he says flipping back the covers and getting out of bed. “Should I get out the eyeliner and torn up jeans for tonight just for old times’ sake, or no?”
He smirks standing gloriously naked in front of the dresser rustling through one of his drawers. His drawers. Magnus isn’t quite used to the lovely novelty of the fact that Alec lives with him now. It’s been about two months since they made it official and just seeing one of Alec’s crappy romance novels on the coffee table or his shitty leather jacket hanging in its permanent space in their closest still makes him feel all sorts of tingly.
Magnus hums in thought rising up from bed and moving to lean against the dresser beside Alec. He’d pay good money to get Alec to wear eyeliner more often frankly.
“I think you should bring both of those things out as often as you’d like,” he says reaching out a hand and cupping Alec’s cheek turning it towards him. The feel of Alec’s soft, shaven skin is something he also isn’t quite used to. For the first time in their year together he’d shaved off his beard entirely, completely out of the blue and for no other reason than he’d had a day off and was bored. He’s as handsome as ever, but Magnus had quite literally had to do a double take when he came home and saw Alec sitting on the couch.
“Do try and leave the illustrious tales of our sexual escapades at home this time though, darling,” he says with a smile. He’s mostly joking, but now that their sexual escapades are real and not fictionalized he’d like to keep them just between them.  
“Damn, well there goes all my dinner conversation topics,” Alec says with a wicked little smile.
“Menace,” Magnus says as he slides his hand down from Alec’s face to his chest with a shake of his head.
Magnus runs his fingers lightly through the hair on Alec’s chest stopping to rest on the stark black tattoo on his lower abdomen. And boy hadn’t it been a blissful discovery to see that ink when he finally got Alec’s shirt off for the first time. He trails his fingers over the shape of it lightly, knowing exactly what he’s doing.
“If you keep doing that we’ll never leave this room,” Alec says his lips tilting up in a little pleased smirk.
“Doing what?” Magnus says innocently still moving his fingers over the shape of the tattoo lightly.
“And you say I’m the menace,” Alec says leaning in to kiss him on the lips once hard and bruising. “We need to shower.” He says stepping away from Magnus. Magnus’s hand falls and he pouts laying it on a bit thick. Alec pointedly attempts to ignore it.
“Together?” Magnus says with a hopeful smile.
Alec rolls his eyes. “I feel like despite having literal hours to get ready we’ll end up late somehow if we do,” he says eyeing Magnus’ bare form appreciatively. “But there’s no way I can say no to that.”
Magnus smirks pushing himself off the dresser and right up against Alec.
“Damn straight,” he says before leaning in to lay a teasing, promising kiss on his lips.
“There is absolutely nothing straight about this,” Alec says with a toothy smile once he’s pulled back already tugging Magnus into the bathroom for their shower. Magnus laughs loud and bright as he’s dragged along.
***
Impossibly despite literal hours, Alec’s right, showering together does prolong the entire process of getting out of the apartment when showering becomes shower sex, which becomes another round on the bathroom counter which results in needing to shower again, separately this time much to both their dismays.
Eventually though, they’re dressed and ready. Magnus finishes up the last touches on his hair, adjusting the bright almost golden streak at the front of it which compliments the golden chained pattern of his shirt. He picks up the ring Alec fake proposed to him with last year and twists it onto his right-hand ringer finger with a smile. They obviously aren’t actually engaged, but increasingly lately Magnus finds himself thinking about making it real.
He gives himself one last once over in the mirror before stepping out of the bathroom to find Alec sitting cross legged on their bed and Magnus is nearly sent back in time to a year ago.
He’s wearing the jeans and boots just like he had that night, his eyeliner is in place a little less messy but still unpracticed and his hair is its usual tussled self. The shirt is almost the same, this time it’s one Magnus gave him with subtle lines of shiny black at the collar and cuffs, the little black loops in his ears are a gift from Magnus as well.
It’s a perfect combination of that first night when they were a fake couple out to cause mayhem and the couple they are now, a royal we couple that are so deep in love Magnus has to just take a few breaths in sometimes to remember this is all real.
“Ready to go?” Alec asks looking up at Magnus with a smile. Magnus nods as Alec stands throwing on his leather jacket with the hole in it he refuses to fix. Magnus follows suit grabbing his own jacket and following Alec out as he grabs his keys and wallet scratching the heads of both cats curled up on the back of the couch as he goes.
“We could take the subway you know?” Magnus says once they’re in the elevator, Alec twirling the keys to his Thunderbird around his finger.
Alec scrunches up his face adorably. “No way,” he says gesturing for Magnus to step out first when they reach the lobby. “Cherry helping us fight through Thanksgiving traffic is gonna be a lifelong tradition for us.”
Lifelong Magnus likes the sound of that, but he is dubious that Alec’s precious car will last anywhere near that long.
Alec rushes to the car parked proudly and loudly right in front of their building unlocking it and pulling four times on the passenger door before getting it open.
He smiles at Magnus gesturing with an overstated bow for him to get in and Magnus rolls his eyes but can’t seem to hide his smile and Alec knows it. He shuts the door once Magnus is in and in a move reminiscent of their escape from his father’s last year slides over the hood before slipping into his own seat and starting the car driving off to a much better Thanksgiving than the year before.
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