Tumgik
#i tried to write for 2 seconds and scratched everything except one line
harrylegendstyles · 3 years
Text
🖊🖍📝📖
#hi#how is everyoneeeee#i tried to write for 2 seconds and scratched everything except one line#i read an interview with calahan skogman who plays matthias on shadow and bone anddddd he says he writes all the time all day#and i go days like even weeks without writing#and i know it’s not a big deal but sometimes i’m just like …….. should i be doing that too#but i don’t want to force it u know?#and like how do people write different stories at the same time#u are a god if u can do that#also i thiiiink i may have given up on malibu rising#i’m officially in a book slump#it’s alright though no rushhh no rush to read#my sister just read the house in the cerulean sea and she LOVED it#so if you’re in a book slump and want to fall in love i’d suggest reading the house in the cerulean sea#i also watched all of the icarly reboot today…. and watched all of bretman rocks mtv thing on youtube …..#…………………… it’s okay though i’m on my first day of my period hdkwhdishjedjs#also :/ looking at the pics of harry today i felt really bad like .. famous people really can’t get a break huh#no matter where u go people will take a picture of u#what’s everyone reading/watching/how are u all burning time basically hdjdjsjs#ps whenever i write these i feel like i lose a follower rip it’s been weird people have been following then unfollowing right after#what did they see that made them go …..nevermind then click unfollow#this is one of my favorite emojis 🪄 the little sparkles are so cute
2 notes · View notes
cryonme · 3 years
Text
ɪ ᴋɴᴏᴡ ʏᴏᴜ'ʀᴇ ᴏʙꜱᴇꜱꜱᴇᴅ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴍᴇ
part one >< jj x reader
﹥ˏˋ♡̩͙♡̩̩̥͙♡̩̥̩ ⋆ ♡̩̥̩♡̩̩̥͙♡̩͙ˊˎ﹤
JJ and Y/n have a fuck hate relationship, well, JJ does. Y/n’s madly in love and JJ’s just mad. When Y/n finally decides enough is enough and confesses her feelings to JJ, she leaves the chateau in pieces.
word count- 1.4k
tw/ cursing, mentions of sex, jj is an ASSHOLE, drinking, shitty writing.
a/n- wowwie! my first outer banks imagine, how fun! I've been wanting to write for obx for a while now so I'm really excited about this, and I hope you all love it as much as I do!! there will be a part two, so don’t get too sad about the ending... yet. xo
++
“Wanna tell your best friend to stop glaring at me?” You spat as you grabbed a red solo cup while waiting in line for the keg.
John B just chuckled and shook his head, “I’m afraid it wouldn’t do any good, my friend.”
You rolled your eyes. JJ had been shooting daggers at you all night. Actually, scratch that. JJ had been shooting daggers at you for the past 2 and a half years. You were a pogue, just like him and his friends. You worked for everything you had, you wore the same 7 t shirts and the same 2 bikinis, and your parents weren't exactly star role models. So you weren’t sure where JJ’s hatred for you stemmed from, until you came to the realization that he couldn’t handle another person coming into the friend group, and did his best to try and drive you out of it.
And yet you were stupidly, uncontrollably, head over heels in love with him.
Yes, you heard that right.
Despite the blue eyed boy’s disdain for you, he couldn’t keep his hands off of you. The two of you had been drunk fucking for 6 months now. It all started when you were all getting drunk at the chateau and JJ had accidentally stumbled into the room you had been laying in, and things just escalated from there. Every time you fucked you saw a different JJ, probably just because he was drunk, which you tried not to think about. He would ask you if you were comfortable, cup your face when he kissed you, stroke your hair, like he was in love with you too. But as soon as you were done he wouldn’t look at you, like he was disgusted with himself for ever touching you.
You kept his secret, didn’t tell anyone about the nights JJ would drunkenly squeeze through your window and kiss you like it was the first time, everytime.
You were tempted, wanted to embarrass him for the way he treated you in public, but you soon came to realize that if you told anybody, JJ would never kiss you again. So, you kept your mouth shut. No matter how badly you wanted to open it.
John B nudged your arm, “Don’t let him bother you, he’s really not worth it. He’s just jealous.”
“Jealous of what?” You asked.
“That there’s other people in this world we can get along with.”
You scoffed, “He needs to grow up, he’s acting like a child.”
“I agree.” John B said before ruffling your hair and walking off to find Sarah.
You sighed and turned your head toward JJ, who unsurprisingly was glaring at you again.
You smirked and mouthed, “I know you’re obsessed with me.” Before raising your red solo cup to your lips and taking a sip.
JJ clenched his jaw and turned away from you, walking in the other direction.
If he was gonna be a dick to you, you were gonna be a dick back. It’s not fair that he gets to treat you like trash but the second you retaliate the world ends.
You decided right then, standing on the beach with a beer in your hand and your toes grazing the water, you were done. He can’t treat you like this and expect you to spread your legs in return. No matter how much it would hurt not being able to kiss or touch him again, it had to be done. You had to respect yourself more than that.
You turned your body towards the party and scanned your eyes over the crowd, finally landing them on him. He was talking to Kiara, smiling and sipping on his drink, and your heart sank. He would never be that way with you, which is why it was time to do what you had to do.
You took your time walking over to the pair, kicking your feet in the sand, stopping and talking to a couple familiar faces before finally landing next to Kiara. She smiled and wrapped an arm around you.
“Where’ve you been, babe?”
You shrugged and leaned into the girl, “Around.”
JJ stayed silent as the two you chit chatted, looking everywhere except at you.
Once your conversation with Kie hit a lull you turned to the blond, “We need to talk.”
He scoffed, “Yeah, like that’s gonna happen.”
“JJ.” Kiara said in a harsh tone, looking at you apologetically. You dismissed her with a soft smile, assuring her it was fine. She looked between the two of you before backing off, giving your arm a quick squeeze. “Let me know if you need me.”
You nodded and watched the girl walk away, starting to dread what you had to do.
“I’m serious, JJ.”
“I’m not fucking talking to you.”
“Alright, fine.” You put your hands up in surrender and walked closer to the boy, leaning in to whisper in your ear.
“I’m done fucking you.”
Before you could walk away JJ firmly grabbed your arm and stared down at you. You kept your head high and your face serious, letting him know you weren't kidding around.
“Let’s talk in private.”
++
You got to the chateau before JJ did since he insisted you don’t walk together, out of fear of your cover being blown. You stood awkwardly in John B’s spare room, the one JJ had declared as his own, waiting for him to make his appearance.
When he did, he slammed the door and you willed everything in you not to jump. He stood in silence in front of you for what felt like hours, staring at you like if you made one wrong move he’d strangle you right then and there.
“I’m done.”
“Yeah, I gathered that much. Care to explain?” He said in a voice so intimidating it took everything in you not to shrink down and crawl out the window. You took a deep breath. You were really gonna do this, after all these months of burying your feelings, you were really gonna do it. “I love you.” You said. Your voice shook, but dammit, you said it.
“No you don’t.”
You weren’t prepared for that response. You expected him to laugh in your face, yell at you, maybe even kiss you and confess his feelings, but not that.
“You don’t know me.” You spat. “How dare you tell me how I feel?”
“I do know you, Y/n. I know you’re desperate for any form of attention. I know you think you love me because I give you just a sliver of that attention you desperately crave.” JJ’s voice got lower as he began to slowly walk towards you, not stopping until he was inches from your face. His hand came up and gripped your jaw, turning your face to make you look up at him.
“You literally mean nothing to me.”
You pushed him off of you, “You asshole.”
“Maybe. But at least I wasn’t stupid enough to fall for someone who hates me.”
If you weren’t angry before, you were now. You could feel white hot anger rising up in your chest as your fists began to clench and your muscles began to shake.
“If you hate me so much why do you fuck me like you’re in love with me?!” You nearly screamed in his face, while he showed absolutely no emotion. He stared at you for a long time,saying absolutely nothing, just breathing heavily and running a hand through his hair every 10 seconds.
You waited. You waited for what felt like forever for him to say something, anything. You just wanted to know what he was thinking, if he told you to fuck off, fine. If he told you he was in love with you but just didn’t want to admit it, fine. You just needed something from him.
“I think you need to leave.” He said finally, his eyes still not moving from his heavy gaze on you.
You nodded and quickly wiped a tear from your eye. “Gladly. Have a shitty life, asshole.”
You made sure to clip his shoulder with yours on the way out, and slam the door just like he had earlier in the night.
When you exited the chateau, the sun hadn’t even set yet, and the young drunk teens were still dancing and laughing. Your eyes found your friends, Kiara, Pope and John B. Pope’s arm was extended, holding a phone and snapping a selfie of the trio, all of them with the goofiest grins on their faces. You felt a pang in your chest watching them.
You weren’t planning on coming around anymore.
ahhhh.... part two??
473 notes · View notes
ackerfics · 3 years
Text
so this is love — annie leonhart
— annie leonhart x female reader
— request by anon: I kinda have a request. How about royal au? Where 2 kingdoms are at war with each other, and reader is the heir of the throne of one kingdom (but they’re not the spoiled type of heir, more like the solider one?) and then the kingdoms decided a truce. Reader will have to marry the heir of the other kingdom which is Annie. Idk maybe those arranged marriages that they never get along at first? Kinda like they were enemies bc they never get along until some development of feelings happen along the way. Maybe Annie will realize that she has feelings when reader got injured since they’re a soldier
— warnings: mentions of war, slight angst if you squint, just two idiots falling in love with each other :))
— summary: you were sent off to another kingdom as a sign of a truce, promising to yourself that the engagement is close to death at how you got off on the wrong foot with your betrothed. it was hell at first but who knows? maybe, unbeknownst to you, the two of you are a match made by the gods.
— word count: 7.5k
— author’s notes: i am so sorry this came out so long :((( we just finished our exams and we have a case study to write as our midterm for a subject. i hope this will still quench your annie fic cravings. and by the way, i fashioned the kingdom of idylle to mondstadt because genshin impact is my stress reliever right now and a kingdom built upon freedom sounds like a gem. plus, the glass castle of the reader is based off of the castle of cinderella, which is the reason for the title hhhhhh happy reading !!!
so this didn’t appear in the tags so i reposted it :”(((
Tumblr media
Corsets were abominations that needed to be burned.
The girl with your features staring at you from the mirror was someone you couldn’t recognize from all the preparations your chambermaid did on your figure. The make-up was appalling and thick that you could see a smear on the back of your hand when you tried rubbing your itching nose. Your hair was done in a half up-do with too many decorative pins sticking out, creating a makeshift crown of silver roses, one of the symbols of your kingdom. The dress your mother expected you in was straight-up ridiculous, you couldn’t move from the tightness of the corset and the heaviness of your skirts was hindering you from moving freely. You couldn’t even deny that it was a lovely gown but its inconvenience was irking you at the slightest turn or stretch.
Dressing up this lavishly was rare for you, the Crown Princess of the kingdom boring flags of silver and lilac. You very much preferred the heaviness of your armor and your title as one of your kingdom’s Commendatore rather than the ladylike image your mother has been forcing you on the past few weeks.
You were livid when your parents renounced from the ten-year war that was purging the continent with just a sign on a piece of paper — one that included your name and your honor. Everything was brutal, carnage dotting every town and village of the two kingdoms throwing spears and fire cannons, and you witnessed it all firsthand when you started being one of your kingdom’s soldiers four years ago — a sixteen-year-old girl throwing orders that gave you an advantage from your enemies wearing the crest of the kingdom that painted your lands a heart-wrenching red. Of all solutions that your parents and the other kingdom could come up with, it involved you in the most unacceptable way possible. Officially entering your twenties this year, your parents thought it necessary to offer you as a bride that signified peace to the warring nation right beyond the border. The idea made your vision red, an outburst coming out of your mouth mere seconds after the proposal was announced in the council meeting.
A soldier, a knight, a commander — that’s what you are.
Not some forsaken young woman ready to be shipped off to your rival nation because it was the only way out of this bloody mess.
You had no choice.
The only way for you to grasp the final moments in your kingdom was relishing the touches of the chambermaid and taking in the décor of your room — the small trinkets scattered on your nightstands, the books you escaped to, the jewelry that boasted the colors of your family, and the stuffed animals your nanny sewed for you when you were a toddler. You closed your eyes and let the feathery fingers of the people around you lull you into a prayer for the gods in their celestial thrones, asking for their blessing in this far travel. In the middle of reciting an ode dedicated to the goddess of divine bravery, you felt a cool pendant carefully slide over your collarbones.
Your mother’s face appeared beside the watery princess of the mirror, a forced smile pulling on the corners of her lips. Your distinctly colored irises flickered down on the necklace your mother placed upon the exposed parts of your body. It was a flower-pressed necklace, the gold plate carefully protecting the flower representing your birth. The golden chain holding the necklace together was so thin that you worried for a moment that the fragile piece of jewelry might break in less than an hour while you meet your partner-to-be. You met your mother’s gaze in the mirror — from a chivalrous princess of armor to a dignified queen ruling within a land of eternal spring.
“You look so beautiful,” your mother breathed your name, holding your arms tightly against her ring-adorned hands. Tears blossomed her eyes, trickling down her cheeks akin to the lavender flowers’ petals of the large white tree in your backyard. “You look like the queen you were supposed to be.”
You tried smiling but your wobbly lips made you falter. You can only purse your lips in a tight, flat smile as you face your mother, face set in a kind expression. “Please don’t cry, Mother,” you murmured, placing your palm on top of hers, squeezing it for reassurance. “They wouldn’t do anything to me.”
They, meaning the kingdom you were at war with, the nation that claimed they needed a bride for their Crown Heir. In your world, there was freedom even in marriage — with the kingdoms pairing their sons with the sons of their enemies all for the sake of a truce, especially if the two of them were firstborns. This is very much your situation at the moment. The kingdom of Idylle was a beautiful haven of songs dedicated to the god of the winds, very contrasting to their military power that could take down a good number of your soldiers. You heard stories from some villages in your nation that Idylle was a hoax, that they were bloodthirsty warmongers hungry for the spilled blood of the people of Glaieul, your kingdom. You couldn’t help but believe their words. That was the only addition to your knowledge of Idylle except for their battle tactics and placement of soldiers on the battlefield.
“We’ll pray to the deities that they will do just that,” your mother laughed a little despite the tears. “Or else your father will wage war if they so much scratched you.”
“He wouldn’t do that, Mother,” you shook your head with a slight smile. “You two have worked so hard for this peace treaty. If I ever scratched myself in Idyllic lands, trust me that it would most likely be my fault. Not theirs.”
Your mother’s laugh twinkled in the room, painting everything in a light that erased the heaviness shrouding in every corner of your chambers. “I suppose so. You and your love for your sword are unrivaled. I can still remember the time when you first got the weapon, you were so thrilled for a six-year-old that one would think you were born in the barracks. I have to admit, you looked adorable swinging your sword until the greeting of the night and its stars.” She wistfully sighed, looking down at the necklace she gave you. “Your father was so proud when you came back for dinner that night.”
“My sword has always been a lifelong companion. I will even bring it to their castle.”
Your mother placed a hand on top of her chest, over her heart. “I hope you don’t unsheathe it in front of their royal family.”
You breathed a laugh. “No promises.”
The two of you talk about all the things that happened in your childhood, your laughs echoing through the hallways. The maids and the butlers bade you goodbye and safe travels as you passed by, never forgetting to nod in their direction in acknowledgment. You will miss their company for they saw you grow up before you decided to partake in the war. Almost all of them fussed over the mess you made while practicing your swordplay, cleaning up the broken vases and the mud on the carpeted floors. Even one of the apprentices of the Keeper of Books residing in the palace, Armin, enthusiastically waved at you, his friends flanking him for a visit in the kitchens. You didn’t miss how Eren directed an incredulous stare towards the blonde man, with Mikasa looking shocked at how easily the apprentice interacted with you in a public setting since your times with them only happened behind prying eyes.
You gave the three of them a huge smile that gave their faces a pretty rose shade.
Upon reaching the foyer, your father stood at the foot of the stairs along with the soldiers you acquainted in your time on the battlefield, sending a wave of warmth through your chest. His silver coat lined with gold details was a beacon and his white breeches were tucked in a pair of knee-length boots. His chest was decorated with his sash full of medallions, the kingdom insignia of lilac gladioluses and silver roses pinned on top of his heart. The king of Glaieul softened his eyes, crinkles appearing at the corners, at the sight of you and your mother descending on the stairs.
“My little flower,” was his greeting to you when you reached him.
“Father,” you breathed, picking up your skirts to settle in the embrace of waiting arms. You buried your figure against him, inhaling his scent of pine and rosewater, creating the last memory you will have of him. The two of you pulled away for a moment, your eyes watering at the sad visage your father sported. You felt the lightest brush of his kiss on your forehead. 
“Now I’m becoming reluctant in sending you off,” he told you. “I felt guilty when I saw you fight against this during the council meeting. But it is what they offered and I have no say in the matter.”
“I know.”
“May the eternal spring never waver in your soul.”
You nodded before taking a step back, bowing with your knees on the marble floors. Your crown glinted against the light from the stained-glass windows, your hair forming a curtain around your face as you replied, “I will let it fester among the ballads and idylls they will offer. I will carry the name of Glaieul with faithfulness, honor, and grace.” You raised your head to meet your father’s eyes. “I promise to never deter the eternal spring.”
It would be that way until your last years in that kingdom. And as you rode the carriage with the soldiers you fought with guarding the vehicle with their lives on the line, you could only sigh and offer another round of prayers that this swerves in a more positive direction than what you were expecting. After a hefty journey across the bustling capital (people stopped by and waved your carriage goodbye, offering you flowers that one of the captains of the fleet, Levi, scowled at — you coaxed him that it was alright, though) to the hectares of meadows in the countryside, the sight of flowers mixed with emerald turned into a sea of teal as you entered the outskirts of Idylle, your betrothed’s home. Everything was bathed with the endemic species of grass solely blessed by the god of the winds on Idylle — legends say that it was because He wanted the kingdom that worshipped him to look different than the rest. No matter how much you deny it, it was beautiful.
“How are you faring, princess?”
Your daze was interrupted by a baritone voice, deep enough to alert some of the men around the carriage. His gray eyes provided you support during the war. You couldn’t help but smile at the onyx-haired man riding by your right window. “Hello, Captain Levi.”
“Tch. Drop the title, brat. You and I both know that the war made us friends somewhat.”
You let out a small laugh. “Well, Levi, to answer your question, I’m quite fine even though my parents just sold me to gain peace.”
Levi rose an eyebrow at the remark. “I am not one to have the capabilities to comfort someone but think of this as a way for you to help the kingdom without sacrificing your life for once. A nation without its heir is just like losing its king. I’ve seen you train when you’re starting as a squire and to the point when you got the position you deserve. This would be like a small walk in the gardens of your mother.” He fixated his stare on you, eyes dull yet determined to get his point across. “You have a role in every part of your life and this time, this is what the gods crafted for you. Do not fret, princess, you have more chances of being on the battlefield again.”
The words Levi spoke settled in you until you reached the capital of Idylle, a small island in the middle of a clear azure lake with walls resembling a huge castle. The bridge leading to the gates was lined with guards bearing the kingdom’s crest, all of them standing under the flapping flags bearing the symbol and colors of the royal family they serve — a harp surrounded by the colors of gold and blue. Their eyes warily followed the series of carriages, postures becoming stiff in the realization that the entourage holds the visitor their rivaling country sent. That was still the scenario when the series of carriages and horses passed by the marketplace, the vicinity on the lowest part of the walled capital, as if the wind even ceased to let the people gawk at the brightly-colored entourage making its way to the highest tier depicting mansions and the main plaza where their patron god stood tall and proud in front of the palace’s gates.
Everything looked magnificent.
It was a breath of fresh air from the glass castle you grew up in. Whereas your kingdom built a white, blinding home that withstood for hundreds of years, Idylle’s palace blended with the brick walls with its leveled mansard roofs and turrets. The gates were made of gold, welcoming you into a huge square of maze-like hedges, a fountain sitting in the middle of the labyrinth. Some gardeners stopped their daily chores to greet the carriages with a wave of their hat, seeing as you were going to be an addition to the royal family after the wedding in a few months. The steps leading to the main doors loomed in front of you with only a few servants waiting for you to step out of the carriage.
You took in a deep breath, nodding at Levi to open the door. When it swung open, you placed your hand on top of Levi’s as he guided you down the propped steps on the side of the carriage.
“Well,” Levi hummed from behind you, making you glance at him with a curious eye. “May the eternal spring never waver in your soul, Your Highness.” He bowed in front of you, only a dip of his head, a firm hand on his heart, and yet that was enough for you to reciprocate it with a kind smile.  
“Safe travels back, Captain Levi. May the gods protect you.”
The servant boys standing on top of the stairs jumped an inch in the air, going down in fleeting steps to get your luggage when they realized they were staring too long at you. You smiled at them in gratitude before stepping inside the palace as the guards opened the huge, gilded double doors in front of you.
The inside was just elegant as the exterior appearance of the entire capital. Everything was bathed in gold that seemed to rival the Sun and it made you look away for a moment. The grand hall followed the kingdom’s colors, from the turquoise carpets leading towards two winding staircases to the golden ceilings decorated with paintings of cherubs and the story of how their god of the winds came to be. One of the servant boys slightly cleared his throat, snapping you out of your curiosity of the myths laid on the ceiling. You turned to him with raised eyebrows, spurring him to whisper a faint, “Follow us, Your Highness.” They led you through hallways hung with tapestries and paintings, drawing rooms where the queen hosted her tea parties (Levi would have loved it), and ballrooms that have the same aesthetic as the foyer. Finally, you stopped in front of one of the apartments in the palace, the servant boy who told you to follow them brightened at the guard stationed there.
“Reiner!”
You waited patiently and let your eyes roam across the hallway.
“Hello, Falco, Udo.” The man, Reiner, smiled at the young boys before turning to you. He placed a hand on his heart and bowed. “Welcome to Gale, the capital of Idylle, Your Highness.”
“Thank you for the welcome,” you replied, motioning for him that it was quite alright to straighten his posture. “The palace looks lovely.”
“Indeed, it is.” Reiner opened the doors of your room and once again bowed with an outstretched hand towards the room. “Here are your chambers and I will be your guard for the entirety of your stay here in the palace, Your Highness.” You muttered a faint ‘thank you’ as you entered a drawing room with a door to the private chambers on the left and the bathrooms to the right. There was a table fit for two people, armchairs, and drawers with vases on top. A huge floor-to-ceiling window illuminated the room, your feet carrying you there to open them, and letting the wind caress the curtains as they danced in the breeze. “If you ever need anything, you can call for my name and I will be here in an instant. Your chambermaid will be up here in a moment to help you prepare for the family dinner. For now, rest well, Your Highness.”
“Thank you, Reiner, Falco, Udo,” you smiled, retreating towards the private chambers.
You let out a sigh and stared at nothing for a few moments. It came down to this. To think that you were in enemy lands and was treated so well without any degradation came as a shock to you. The people so far that radiated negativity at your arrival were the guards stationed at the bridge and some of the townsfolk and nobles parading in the streets. As you think about the servant boys and Reiner’s calmness in receiving you in the palace, you immediately thought that it would be better than you expected.
You took off your heels under your dress, mind racing that this wouldn’t be so bad, and plopped on top of your canopied bed, its baby blue curtains protecting you from unknown disturbances and drowning you in a rapid of dreams.
-
The dinner didn’t go so well as you expected.
You donned a more suitable dress for indoor use, something that doesn’t include forcing your figure in a tight corset and yet presentable enough to be shown in the family dinner. You even placed a circlet of silver flowers on your head to compensate for the dull dress you chose, the description fitting after one of the chambermaids expressed their perplexity at how simple regarding design your dress has. Your light blue skirts fanned out around you as you made your way to one of the grand dining rooms reserved for family use. The choice of the color of the dress should be enough to express that you are willing to be on good terms with the family of the person you will marry.
But your first meeting with Annie Leonhart was interestingly disappointing.
Before departing from your kingdom, you learned the royal family and even Idylle’s customs. You learned how they always valued freedom and expression above all else, compared to your home that valued their ties with the gods more than the idea of getting rid of the shackles placed by your deities. You learned how they have this festival dedicated to celebrating the love they share with their patron god and how it spanned for half a month.
Finally, you learned about the indifferent Crown Heir of Idylle, the young woman with the piercing blue oceanic eyes sitting in front of you at the dinner table. She was known for building up walls that discouraged some of her engagements with other royalties across the continent. She was so closed off that she didn’t even glance in your direction for one second. Her hair was done in an elaborate bun wrapping around her head in a braid, her small, thin diadem resting against her golden hair. Annie kept her gaze on her plate, even playing with her food mindlessly for a couple of minutes before sighing and taking a bite of the chicken the maids served. No conversation was exchanged and the dinner ultimately became one of the most awkward meals you had. The king even tried to engage his daughter for casual talk but Annie dismissed them with a hum.
The queen had to apologize to you several times after the dinner, with Annie huffing at the back and eager to get out of the room. Despite how much she was against this engagement, you still bowed at her before you retreated to your room.
Now dressed in your nightgown, you stared at the canopy of your bed, already missing your home the more you fixed your attention on the bundled-up curtains. You badly needed to hit a straw dummy with your sword to let out your frustrations. Of all the royalties present in your continent, why did it have to be you that was shipped to this measly forced marriage? There were still so many solutions that could lead to a peace treaty but why was this the only one the kings and queens could present to their courts? A sigh escaped your chest once again at the thought of actually getting to know Annie. You laid on your side, curling your legs towards your chest and prayed that the god of dreams will visit you sooner than expected.
A knock reverberated through your chambers, the sound making you sit up.
You went to the receiving room and opened the door. You kept the small hitch of your breath in your chest at the sight of Annie and her half-lidded eyes. There was no one in the hallways. You figured that she sent Reiner away for some privacy, meeting the blue irises you likened to brilliant sapphires. 
“What brings you here, Your Highness?” you asked, opening the door wider.
“Annie.” She saw how your eyebrows raised in surprise. “Call me Annie, we’re betrothed after all.”
“Of course.” You smiled. “Annie,” you tested her name softly, missing the way she inhaled too sharply at your voice. 
Annie reciprocated the gesture by saying your name. The two of you stared at each other and it felt like an eternity before she looked away to focus on the receiving room behind you. She noticed how your eyes held kindness underneath the star-like shine even though she showed hostility during your first dinner with her family. Your hair was disheveled and it didn’t take her a minute to realize she might have woken you up from a good night’s rest. The journey from Glaieul to Idylle was a long one. You deserve all the rest you can get, “I apologize if I woke you up but I feel like I should do this before dragging it out.” You once again raised an eyebrow so she took out a leather box, opening it to reveal a ring with a holographic gem showing teal and pink in the middle. The Leonhart family ring. “Here.”
“Oh.”
You were gawking at the beautiful piece of jewelry, with Annie taking the matter in her own hands. She took the ring out of the box and pocketed the container. Her hand reached out to hold your palm against hers, sliding the ring in your ring finger. Your hand still hovered in front of you after Annie retracted hers to find their place by her side. She continued to eye your mesmerized visage with a half-lidded gaze, clearing her throat to catch your attention. You turned to her with a small apology for spacing out.
“It’s fine,” Annie waved off. “It’s yours starting today.” She turned away from you and went down the hallways but not before saying a “Good night, [Name].”
-
The entire week of your stay in Idylle was uneventful, to say the least.
Annie kept her distance from you after that night she gave you their family ring. It left you thinking that you should also gift her the [Last Name] ring your family treasured for centuries. The ring was placed in a small cushioned jewelry box that you opened and propped on one of your night tables. Your conscience was telling you to give it to her but there wasn’t exactly any moment alone with her let alone just passing by her in the hallways. The blonde princess made it her mission to never let your fates meet the more time you spent in the capital. You then decided that she probably didn’t want this engagement to happen.
But she gave you the ring. Wasn’t that a strong signal that Annie accepted you as her betrothed, unlike the others before you?
You shook that thought as you focused on giving consecutive hits on the dummy in front of you. Two days before, you proposed to the king to let you have a moment alone in the training grounds for about two hours or so to keep you in shape. He reluctantly agreed, but not without a side stare at the queen. They heard of your glorious feats during the war, how you managed to become one of the Commanders of a battalion of soldiers tasked with being in the frontlines and how you won constant ambushes against Idylle’s numbers. Two hours of training became three until here you are, still not stopping as you finished every single dummy in the private training grounds. With your day spent outside, you thought it would be nice to have a nice dip in the bathtub before dinner.
In your walk towards your chambers, you spotted Annie in one of the drawing rooms, sitting in the window seats with a book of war tactics in hand. You recognized the author as one of the revolutionaries mentioned to you by your tutor. 
“That’s a nice book,” you couldn’t help but mention. Annie turned to you unfazed by your interruption though there was a glint of interest in her eyes. “The book mostly describes battle formations but I think the author likened it to every situation on the battlefield. For instance, the phalanx was native to the empire of Great Findara and it was great for preventing casualties until it was overpowered by the infantry tactic of the city nation of Khisfire where every man has a role and a weapon depending on their group. The latter was more on the long-range yet melee way of taking back the territory.”
Annie hummed. “Do royal tutors of Glaieul teach this to their students?”
“Oh, no. I learned it while taking on the role of a squire.”
She once again hummed. “It completely slipped my mind that you are one of the Commanders in your military. You were ruthless as the folks in the noble plaza say, blood tainting your hands from doing raids in the border villages of Idylle.” Her tone was like a jab to your side, like an arrow tearing through your skin. “I know it was a time of war and desperate times call for desperate measures but our people didn’t deserve to experience the massacres.”
“They were far from being massacres,” you gritted your teeth.
Annie scoffed. “Then what were they? Because that’s what it looks like to me. I can still remember the story two years ago of a young girl wearing her lilac cape in the bloodbath, eyes so dull that you can see your reflection on it. What’s to say that this engagement is a hoax plotted by your parents to assassinate my family for you to win a territory you greatly needed because of the resources?” She closed her book with too much force, bitterly spitting out the next words, “The apple doesn’t fall from the tree as the saying goes.”
“If you question my being here then why did you give me your family ring, Annie?” you asked, your body now facing the tense young woman by the window. You cursed at how the light made her look angelic like the girl the god of the winds sacrificed his life to before he ascended to the heavens. “This peace treaty is everything my family wanted even though hundreds of our soldiers died in vain for not meeting the ends of what they fought for. If you’re saying that my parents placed me in an undercover predicament to add to the weight of deaths on my shoulders, I suggest you tell your father to put a stop to our betrothal. Because I don’t even want to be here, Your Highness, and it would do me such a huge honor. I would rather spend my time out with my fellow soldiers than pretending I’m some dainty princess my family sheltered when in fact, I was anything but that.
“Have a good day and I hope you enjoy the rest of the book. Chapter ten was a personal favorite of mine,” you dismissed, turning towards the direction of the apartments.
Once you reached your door, Reiner straightened his posture, faltering for a second when he noticed the cross look on your face. He chose not to say anything as he opened the door for you. You took off your boots right beside one of the armchairs of the receiving room and immediately went inside your private chambers. The glint of the ring on your night table mocked you. You stomped over the furniture and forcefully closed the small jewelry box, throwing the container inside one of the drawers.
Maybe sleep will be much kinder to you, the sheets enveloping you in an embrace you wish your mother can only give in this time of need.
-
You were radiant under the harsh heat of the Sun.
Annie was scheduled to have a free slot in her timetable after being included in one of the court meetings regarding the resiliency plan of some of the villages in the borders that managed to survive the Glaieulian raids. She suggested that the villages should be moved to one of the more remote villages nearer the capital, where the terrain is suitable for growing crops and starting small farms. There wouldn’t be an issue with overpopulation because the recommended village was home to the elderly and children. The newly situated families will also aid the old people as they go about their mundane activities. It was a sound suggestion and her father was also considering it. Annie hoped that would be the case as she scribbled a small note on a piece of paper. After the meeting, she stopped by one of the windows overlooking the training grounds, and there you are.
Your small argument that happened a few days before stirred some guilt in Annie’s stomach. 
You weren’t even part of the raids she was talking about. They were led by a commander by the name of Erwin Smith. The stories about you that she heard were from Idyllic soldiers that suffered a lot during the war, not from the people of the villages Erwin raided. Annie couldn’t deny it but she did step out of the line by accusing you of being an assassin. That was too far-fetched. She was just stuck in her suspicions when she was supposed to be getting to know you.
All she knew about you was that you were adept with a sword and can name any tactic written in books about wars.
Annie saw a maid cleaning one of the vases in the hallway. “Miranda.”
The maid turned around, curtsying in a haste before patting her uniform. “What can I do for you, Your Highness?”
“Can you prepare a tray of iced apple juice and some cakes?”
“Of course, Your Highness.”
Annie nodded. “And can you place this note on the tray and deliver it to [Name]’s room?”
The maid was taken aback. “Well, it would be my pleasure, Princess.”
“Thank you.” With that, Annie walked away without a glance back.
Curious eyes followed the princess’ form, the maid finding herself looking at your figure sparring with Reiner and a smile instantly greeted her face. This could be a turning point in the betrothal because she could’ve sworn Annie had a small blush on her cheeks at the mention of the other princess. 
After your training, a tray of sweets and a pitcher with glasses of apple juice awaited you in your receiving room. You wanted to ask Reiner if he asked some of the chambermaids to prepare the afternoon snack but a folded note caught your eye. With one hand gripping the towel around your shoulders, you read the note, your face warming up at the short yet endearing sentence.
Indulge in these, they taste better after a good training session.
Maybe this wasn’t so bad after all, you thought as you munched on a sprinkled cookie.
-
Her eyes kept following a trail of gold tulle, silks, and laces, never looking away the moment her blue eyes laid themselves upon a beauty that rivaled the goddess of oneiric realms, the most ethereal goddess of the heavens. You were dressed in an off-shoulder gown with loose sleeves reaching your elbow, the bodice carefully wrapping around your torso in the most flattering way possible, and skirts adorned with silver gems. In a sea of aristocrats with fabulous dresses, you were a sight to behold in this ball dedicated to commemorate the truce between Glaieul and Idylle as well as announce the engagement between the two countries. You were starlight personified, shining in Annie’s eyes under the lights of tens of chandeliers in the ballroom. 
You were on the other side of the ballroom, laughing with your friends from your home kingdom. There was a tall brunette that seemed to be star-struck because of you just like Annie, a black-haired young woman who was smiling slightly, and a blonde who was engaged in an animated conversation with you. Your smiles were refreshing, to say the least, Annie seeing it for the first time since you came to their palace. Your laughs are genuine and it came out of you so easily when in the company of your friends.
Annie visibly stiffened when you turned around and smiled at her, gesturing for her to come to join the small huddle. Your three friends tensed noticeably at her half-lidded stare, with you reassuring them that she’s not that indifferent all the time. 
As if sensing Annie’s hesitance, Reiner chuckled behind her. “You know, it wouldn’t hurt to introduce yourself to them, Your Highness.”
“I’m getting to that, Reiner.”
A laugh came from the blonde man. “She’s good for you. That much I can tell. The kindest soul I’ve ever met in my life.”
Again, guilt pooled in Annie’s chest. Those words are the opposite of what she spewed out to you the last time you talked. She called you a power-hungry monster who ravaged the war with no care on your shoulders. She didn’t even apologize yet. Annie sighed, “I know.” Then, she pulled up her skirts, navigated the ballroom, and stopped directly beside you. Her blue eyes scrutinized the three people you grew up with, with the brunette and black-haired woman stepping a small step forward to assert their dominance while the blonde pinched their backs to warn them not to step out of line in another kingdom. “Hello.” She transferred her eyes on you afterward, placing a gentle hand on the small of your back and rubbing it in a comforting motion. “I hope you enjoyed the ball so far.” Those words were directed to you.
You only nodded with a smile. “Annie, this is Eren, Mikasa, and Armin. They’re my friends when I was growing up in the glass castle.” Annie nodded. “Everyone, this is Annie, my fiancé.”
“We know,” Eren, the long-haired man in a low ponytail murmured with his arms crossed over his broad chest.
“Eren,” Armin reprimanded. He smiled at a stone-faced Annie. “Thank you for making [Name] happy! I can sense that she has a different air around her while we talked. It must be because of you.”
Annie stayed quiet, her hand coming into a still on the small of your back. It was a good thing her left hand was hidden away because they would immediately think that you didn’t accept the engagement. She glanced at the ring nestling in your finger, a perfect match against the golden train of your dress. Realizing that she created an awkward stretch of silence, Annie could only nod wordlessly before shifting her attention to you again. It seems like you’re the only one who can calm her nerves down inside the vast ballroom. She never took her gaze on you even as you continued the conversation between your friends.
Her mind was fogged with thoughts of only you throughout the ball.
The two of you excused yourself from the trio when Annie’s father called for everyone’s attention from the front of the huge chambers. “Everyone, kind souls and pure-hearted people of the continent, since tonight is all for enjoyment, the waltz of the ball will now commence.” His blue eyes went to his daughter, standing at the side of his throne. “The moment everyone is waiting for — the first waltz.”
She rehearsed this too many times for when a proper betrothal comes into play but why is her hand shaking when she outstretched it in front of you? You must have felt it because you flashed a comforting smile her way. The two of you went to the middle of the ballroom, the guests staring expectantly at the birth of a romance. They were wrong because you hate her and she hates you. Right? Her hatred for you will never waver for killing her people even though you look like a descended goddess with the lights of the chandeliers raining on you. Hatred must be fueling her heart to beat faster than ever, why she seemed to trip over her skirts and how her words stumbled in her tongue. That must be it.
The dance slowly made its way to the part where she struggled, dipping you as gracefully as she can. Before it happened, you whispered to her, “Please don’t make me fall.”
Annie’s voice was soft, for your ears only. “I promise, my princess.”
It truly was a birth of a romance, the two of you unaware of it all.
-
“Come on, Reiner!” You shouted at him from across the training field. “Come at me with all you’ve got.”
The blonde man hesitantly shifted into position as he eyed you. “Are you sure, princess? I wouldn’t want to hurt you.” He remembered the threatening look he received from Annie before this training session and he would like all of his limbs intact, thank you very much. “I just don’t want your chambermaid to nag me again after last time.” He managed a cut on your arm your previous session and you had to wear a long-sleeved dress in such stifling weather.
You scoffed lightheartedly. “I can handle it, Reiner. You don’t have to worry about it. Plus, I can dress my wounds perfectly.”
Reiner didn’t believe that. Your skills in covering up your wounds were lacking despite being a soldier. The most you could do was apply some salve on your bruises, that was it. He had no choice because the past month he spent his days with you, you were like a persistent little child that reminded him of his younger cousin. He hoped that you two wouldn’t meet. “Alright, here I go, Your Highness.”
Parry after parry could be heard in the private training field. You were doing fine in deflecting Reiner’s sword but your ankle immediately ached after shifting your body, leaning back to avoid the sharp edge of the knight’s weapon. You let out a huff as you dropped on the ground, jolting when Reiner called for you to stay alert. Seeing the glint of his sword, you rolled away and the pain on your ankle flared, even more, traveling through your calf. It also didn’t help that you received a cut on the side of your bandaged arm. You picked yourself up despite the throbbing pain on your ankle and arm, now being on the defensive as Reiner continuously struck you with his sword. He then circled his weapon around yours, throwing your sword on the side and pushing you to the ground with the tip of his weapon. That was the time where your ankle finally twisted into a sprain.
“Ah!”
“Princess?” Reiner’s tone became alarmed, dropping to your level and taking off your boots in an instant. His hands ghosted around your swollen ankle, not knowing what to do. “Gods, Annie’s going to kill me!”
“Annie?” You asked between pants. “What does this have to do with her?”
He only shook his head, carrying you in his arms and into the palace. His steps were hurried and the maids gasped at the sight of your red ankle. “Please prepare a bucket of ice and bring it to Princess [Name]’s private chambers.” He turned to you. “Hang on for a moment, Your Highness, we’re nearing your room. Just a little bit more.” Reiner entered your room and gently placed you on your bed. “I’m going to be taking off your other shoe, Your Highness.”
“Reiner, I think I’ll take it from here.”
Reiner stiffened, slowly turning his head to the entrance of your private chambers. Annie was impatiently standing with a bucket of ice in both hands, eyes glacially set on the blonde man kneeling on the floor in front of your confused form. She didn’t care if Reiner trembled in front of her. She vividly remembered telling the knight to never hurt you (she didn’t see the cut you had last training session because Annie was in another court meeting involving the incoming tax collection of various villages). Annie glanced at your ankle, barely grimacing at the state of it before gesturing for Reiner to get out of the room. The large blonde man took his leave, bowing at the two of your hastily and closing the doors with finality.
Annie mimicked Reiner’s position, kneeling in one knee to place your injured foot on her thigh. She didn’t wear any dresses for the day and it made her look dashing. The image implanted itself in your brain. Her hands are gentle against your skin, your cheeks flaring at the contact. Her features were contorted in a downturned one that showed how bothered she was. 
“How did this happen?”
Your eyes settled on the top drawer of your nightstand. “I dodged Reiner’s blow and I twisted my ankle in the process.”
“You should be more careful.”
“I’m always careful.”
Annie scoffed. “That’s clearly obvious.” She said nothing more while dipping your foot in the ice bath. She lifted her head too fast when you winced at the coldness of the water. “Deal with it. We wouldn’t want this to be worse than it already is.”
“Thanks for the concern,” you dryly mentioned.
“What makes you think that my being worried is all fake?” You’re silent, Annie choosing the moment to continue the words she didn’t have any control over. “When the maids prepared this bucket of ice in the kitchens, I was out of the council meeting. When I saw then bringing this up to your chambers, I was alarmed and my mind was a mess of thoughts concerning what happened to you.” At each word, her face held a multitude of emotions that you never saw on her. Her lips became pursed whilst you wordlessly stared at her. “I am not pretending to care for you. How could I pretend when I’m already feeling foreign emotions when it comes to you? It’s my first time feeling this way so I don’t know if I can categorize this as falling in love. But it feels like it. So, for the love of the gods, can’t you see that I’m rambling because of you?”
You didn’t reply, instead, you reached out to the drawer where you kept that ring.
“What are you doing? You should be still right now.”
You pulled out the jewelry box and flipped it open, showing the blonde the ring fashioned in a vine, the centerpiece being a group of small gladiolus flowers with diamonds in their centers. 
Annie’s cheeks reddened, flustered at the pretty jewelry. “What?”
Words never came out of you as you took Annie’s left hand. The ring looked pretty on her, the two of you admiring it after you slid the engagement jewelry in her ring finger.
“I now accept you as my fiancé, my future lover, and holder of my heart. Annie Leonhart, may our eternal spring bloom for centuries, and may your god of the winds bless us with his idyllic ballads.” Annie’s eyes were wide and you can see your reflection on them, along with constellations that lit up her irises. You placed your forehead against hers, looking straight into her flushed face. “They were right, this is the birth of a romance.”
And as you two kissed for the first time, the gods were rejoicing in their thrones, each of your prayers answered — your love finally etched in a whimsical melody. 
142 notes · View notes
oneletteredwondered · 4 years
Text
One of the Boys
Virgil is a new tenant to an apartment complex and his landlord seems real nice. He told Virgil that should he ever need anything fixed to just give a call. He managed to get over the anxiety of calling someone for help, now he needs to get over the gay panic he experiences every time his landlord sends ‘one of the boys’ over.
Pairing: Everyone has a crush on Virgil who is also gay for everyone.
Warnings: panic descriptions from talking over the phone/to new people. Possible second hand embarrassment, swearing
Prompt pic at the end.
--
In all fairness, Virgil loves his new place. Way more than the old place he used to live at least. At least here the walls weren’t cracked and seemed sturdy enough that he wouldn’t be able to hear his neighbors through them. While he does his sweep of the place, writing down anything that might be wrong so the landlord can’t blame them on him, there’s barely anything broken or messed up. A clear step up from his old apartment.
“What you say Oogies?” Virgil nods to the black cat lounging on the cat tower after he’s finished his walk through. The cat stares at him, he stares back. They blink slowly at the same time and Virgil puffs out a breath. OogieBoogie wasn’t fond of the move. Complaining loudly at every jostle of the cat carrier. Virgil wanted to let her out but couldn’t until all his stuff was moved in for her safety. Seems like he’s forgiven.
“Come on lazy bones,” He finagles the cat out of the tower and she curls over his shoulders, paws dipping into the hood of his hoodie, and purrs. He smiles and scratches at her chin. For the most part she blends into the patterned fabric, her grey stripes the only thing that pop out, and even then only barely.
Virgil locks the apartment door, cat on his shoulders, and walk-through papers in hand. They walk their way around the complex and to the main office building. Virgil almost hesitates, thinking maybe he should go tomorrow morning at a better time, but OggieBoogie nuzzles his head encouragingly.
“Yeah okay,” He whispers to the animal, knowing she’s smug as he opens the door. It’s fluorescently bright. There’s no one at the front desk. Virgil takes two steps, and nearly backs out, when a friendly face pops out of one of the offices.
“Oh Virgil!” Virgil lets out a sigh of relief. He recognizes the elderly face 
“Hey Mr Sanders,” He gives an awkward wave. The cheery man laughs.
“You may call me Thomas you know,” He says smiling at his cat and waving to the animal. She blinks at him.
“Right, yeah, course, Mr. Thomas yeah,” Virgil says. Thomas gives him a fond smile but doesn’t correct him. Thank god. Thomas helped him fill out lease papers when he first came to check out new apartments. Honestly a blessing as Virgil had no idea what he was doing. Bonus that Thomas professed the place to be queer friendly as well. Virgil hung up his rainbow flag in the window the moment he found it.
“Oh I brought the walk through papers back,” He hands them over and Thomas takes them happily. 
“Everything good so far?” He asks. Virgil nods, nothing on there that he thought needed fixing, at least right away.
“Oh,” Thomas says softly. Virgil tenses and Oogie starts purring on his shoulder to comfort him.
“Are you having problems with the lights?” Thomas asks, very sincerely. Virgil shrugs a little and Oogie shifts to accommodate his motions.
“Not really, nothing serious,” He tries to play it off. Thomas pouts at his papers.
“Some of the plugs not screwed in properly, not working, a light out in the laundry area,” Thomas ‘tsks’ as he reads off Virgil’s writing. He perks up and offers Virgil a bright smile.
“No worries at all! I’ll send one of the boys over to fix it.” He offers Virgil a wink and riffles through his pockets. He pulls out his wallet and inside it a business card for the office that he promptly hands over.
“You ever need anything fixed, do not be afraid to call ya hear?” Virgil just nods, taking the card with him.
“Wait the boys?” He finds himself questioning. Thomas smiles again with a flippant wave of his hand.
“It’s the name of the contractor company I have hired here for the apartments. Someone should be over in about an hour to help you with the lights.” And with that Thomas is walking away to his own office, leaving Virgil to go back to his new home.
“Shit,” He mutters as he now realizes. Company coming over, and his new home is a mess. He walks quicker than he normally does to try and clean a little before ‘one of the boys’ makes it over. Oogie is not as impressed.
--
Virgil does well distracting himself. He organizes the boxes and even rearranges the hazardously brought in furniture to his liking. Oogie is lounging in her cat tower again, watching him try not to be frantic. He’s in the middle of putting some tupperware containers in the cabinets when there’s a knock on the door.
He wipes his hands on his jeans to make sure they’re not sweaty, and opens the door. Somewhere in the back of his mind he debates slamming it shut but in the end remains frozen with the front door wide open. Cause there in front of him is an absolutely gorgeous guy, hair slicked back and a cunning smile.
“Good afternoon, my name is Damien. Mr. Sanders said you needed help with some of your lights?” His voice sounds like silk and though there’s a long scar across side of his face, it takes nothing away from his beauty.
“Uh yeah.” Virgil says awkwardly.
“Yeah, yeah,” He says even more awkwardly and moves to the side to let the guy in.
“Much appreciated,” The guy, Damien says. Virgil can’t tell if the dude is cheeky or not, but damn is he flustered trying not to stare at his arms and the way he moves in those white jeans. Who wears white jeans to fix things? Virgil should send them a thank you note.
“Which plugs were having issues?” Damien asks then and Virgil decides words are not needed just this moment and deigns to gesture as best he can. Damien smiles at him and sets to work straightening some of the plugs out and replacing one in the corner when he notices a crack in the casing.
“Excuse me, miss.” He hears Damien say and peeks over his kitchen counter to see Damien gently nudging Oogie away from some of his tools. Virgil whines.
“Oogies come on let the man do his job,” Virgil goes over and scoops the cat up, petting her head to keep her from getting annoyed that she couldn’t continue with her curiosity. Damien laughs though and stands, now taking out the walk through Virgil so diligently wrote not 2 hours ago.
“You said that some of the plugs don’t work and that some of the switches don’t lead to anything?” He glances at Virgil with just a hint of a smirk. Virgil hugs Oogie a little tighter to keep his gay panic from spiraling.
“Yeah just seemed weird? I didn’t know if it was something wrong or what,” He says with a shrug, trying to seem nonchalant. Damien lets out a small laugh and waves Virgil to follow. He pulls out a small plug in light and pushes into one of the sockets Virgil said wasn’t working. He flicks the switch on the wall and the light pops on.
“Oh,” Virgil says and wants to die of embarrassment. 
“Well now I feel stupid as fuck,” He says. Damien lets out another laugh, flicking the light twice more to demonstrate.
“It’s to save power that some of the switches lead to the plugs. Nothing broken there. You’re not stupid because you didn’t know.” He takes back his light and once more gives Virgil that sly smile. The worst is he smiles in a way that makes it seem like he knows what he’s doing to Virgil, which is just rude. Except he’s not, Damien is insanely polite which does not help Virgil in the slightest.
“Is there anything else I can help you with?” Damien asks as he puts the last of his tools back in the case.
“Nah. I’m good, thank you,” Virgil says, determined not to make a fool of himself this time. Damien nods his head.
“Have a good rest of your day then. It was a pleasure meeting you,” And this smug bastard winks at him and closes the door behind him. Virgil lets Oogie fall to the floor, picks up the nearest pillow, and screams into it. At least he can do it with proper working lights.
--
Virgil is freaking out. There’s no other way to put it. He is freaking out. So he got a little lazy and didn’t do his dishes. He’s been working so often and never found the energy to keep up. He decided he had a dishwasher for a reason, and even though he felt bad because the machine wasn’t even full, he ran it, and now there is water over the floor. Shit.
He sits on the couch, legs bouncing, with his phone in his hands. Thomas’s number is on the screen, ready to be dialed at the press of a button. Virgil still isn’t sure if this counts as a proper emergency. He managed to clean up most the water with some of his towels, but water is still coming out. Maybe if he just keeps rinsing out the towels and waits for the cycle to be done, he can pretend it never happened.
OogieBoogie jumps into his lap. She kneeds at his leg and is put out when he doesn’t move right away to pet her or give her proper access to his lap. She bumps her head against him and pushes her way to his chest, knocking his phone with her foot in the process.Virgil hisses at the action and ruffles her face in revenge.
“Hello?” A very faint voice calls out. Virgil swears softly and picks up his phone.
“Uh Mr Sanders Thomas?” He says into the receiver, then pulls it away to stare at the ceiling to briefly wonder what is wrong with himself.
“Yes?” Thomas says on the other line.
“It’s Virgil from Unit 16 B.”
“Virgil! How are you?” Thomas doesn’t sound put out that Virgil is calling him, which is a good sign so far. Virgil takes a deep breath, hands working methodically though Oogie’s fur.
“Doing okay yeah, how are you?” He says, it’s important to be polite. Thomas laughs.
“Doing good over here. What can I help you with?”
“Uhm, my dishwasher is leaking? And there’s water on the floor and I don’t know how to fix it. You said I could call if something is wrong and I just, yeah.” Virgil shrugs to himself. Thomas gasps on the other end.
“Oh no! That won’t do. I’ll send one of the boys over to help clean it up.” And Thomas hangs up. Virgil stares at the phone, then at his cat, then back at the dishwasher. He really doesn’t want Damien to see him embarrassed like this  again. He buries his face in Oogie’s side and lets her purr calm him down. He must be there for a while because soon enough there’s a knock on the door.
Thankfully, it’s not Damien on the other end. However, it’s another incredibly attractive guy with a wild smile and even wilder hair that makes Virgil tense up because how. This one wears a shirt with the sleeves ripped off to show how ripped their arms are, and again, white jeans, though this time, the jeans are not as white as they once were, evidence of the work that has been done in them.
“Afternoodle! I’m Remus. The Sander’s Man said something was wishy-washy with your dishy-washy?” His smile in untamed and Virgil stares at him dumbly trying to understand what the hell just came out of his mouth.
“Yes?” He ends up asking more than saying, and moves over so Remus can come inside.
“Much appreciated, now what is gong on here?” Remus smirks down at the mess of the kitchen with his hands on his hips.
“I just ran the dishwasher and water started coming out. I was in the kitchen when I felt it on my foot.” Virgil explains as Remus moves some of the soaked towels over. He finagles the machine to open, something Virgil was too scared to try.
“Oh boy, I see. Give me one hot second here hot tamale, and I’ll get this all cleaned up.” Virgil isn’t sure what he should be more flustered by. Being called hot by a hot guy, or the fact the dude flexed while talking and there is some serious definition in his arms. So Virgil just nods as Remus skips out to the maintenance golf cart outside the door, and brings back in a tool box.
Virgil watches from over the counter as Remus pulls out the racks and practically crawls his way into the dishwasher. Virgil decides it’s a good time to walk away so he doesn’t end up staring at Remus’s ass while he works. That’s not proper behavior for someone who is trying to help.
It’s a few minutes, one colorful yet not quite a swear, and a victory noise later that Virgil feels okay going back to the kitchen area.
“Oh! Hello~ pusspuss!” Virgil gets to watch the exact moment Remus looks up to see Oogie staring at him working. Virgil scoops the cat up.
“Sorry she’s really into strangers.” He says. Though really, she hides from everyone. Remus lets out a cackle of a laugh.
“That’s fine, I’m into strangers too. So I fixed the problem here, no more soggy floors for you. Make sure to run it every so often so it keeps things going clean and unclogged.” Remus says far too quickly for Virgil to respond properly. He picks up his tools and returns them to the case. Virgil does a half-assed job of not staring at his back which is now water soaked.
“Is there anything else I can help you with?” Remus asks at the door. Virgil shakes his head.
“As long as it works I think I’m good,” He says. Remus smiles openly.
“Have a good rest of your day then!” He says and closes the door behind him. There was really no reason for him to flex as he said that but Virgil enjoyed it and no one else has to know.
--
“Shit shit shit,” Virgil is fumbling. He had to go grocery shopping and get some cat food for OogieBoogieBaby. And no self respecting trash panda such as himself would dream of carrying it back inside in more than one trip. So he’s fumbling with his arms lined with bags that would be cutting into his skin if not for his hoodie sleeves, but even then, those are falling and he wishes it wasn't so hot out.
He manages to make it to his door, shift some bags around so he can get his key out, when the bag of cat food starts slipping. Virgil can see it now, cat food all over the front porch to either collect ants, or other cats, or any other large animal. He wouldn’t feed it to Oogie, to afraid of what is on the ground and if it’ll upset her stomach. He braces for impact and for another quick trip to the store.
“Whoa!” Virgil feels the weight leave him but not the crash. He blinks at the ground, then at a pair of white jeans, then at the bag of cat food in someone else’s arms, then up to the face of a bespectacled stranger with brilliant blue eyes.
“Are you alright?” Stranger asks calmly and takes another bag from Virgil that looks ready to topple at a second’s notice. Virgil snaps out of it once it’s out of his hands.
“Shit yeah thanks,” He breathes out in a rush, thankful as all hell as he manages to finally get the door open. He pushes it with his hip and Oogie is waiting at the door for him, meowing up at him. He coos a greeting to her and sets the bags down in the kitchen, the stranger follows only to the inside door and puts the bags down there to not intrude.
“Thank you so much,” Virgil says once he’s done pretending he can carry that much. The stranger just offers him a small smile, kneeling down to let Oogie sniff his gardening glove covered hands.
“It was my pleasure to help you. My name is Logan, I’m one of the workers on site.” He says and stands. His voice is low and calming, it would make for a great audio book, and Virgil is not going to spend the rest of the day thinking about that.
“Though I do apologize for suddenly grabbing your things, I know that can come across as ‘creepy’ and I do not wish for that to be my first impression.” He pries a glove off and holds out his hand. Virgil takes it and gives it a small shake.
“I’m Virgil, and this is OogieBoogie,” He introduces himself and his cat who has deigned to jump on the counter and sniff at the contraption on Logan’s back. He gently pushes the cat away with a soft look in his eyes.
“Pleasure to meet both of you. None for you I’m afraid,” He chides Oogie gently. Virgil swallows because damn, someone interacting gently with his cat more of a heart throb than originally intended. And Logan is nothing if not simply scholarly stunning.
“My apologies again, be sure to let someone know if there’s anything we can help you with. Have a wonderful rest of your day,” Logan nods his head softly and there is just the smallest crinkle around his eyes hidden under his glasses and Virgil is so weak as he closes the door to his apartment. He’s come into contact with one too many pretty people at this complex and it will be the death of him. Still, it is nice to wave to Logan every so often as he preens the landscaping around the buildings.
--
Virgil watches as water drips down the window. It started the other day after some rains. He put a towel under it to keep some of the water from ruining anything, but it’s still going the next day. Virgil sighs and looks at his phone, Thomas’s number on the screen. He takes a deep breath and presses call.
“Hello?” Thomas answers.
“Hey Mr. Thomas it’s Virgil, from Unit 16 B.” A practiced line. Thomas gives a happy gasp.
“Virgil how are you?” Thomas always sounds excited to speak to him. It helps.
“Doing okay, how are you?” He asks, absently petting Oogie’s back.
“Good good! How can I help you?” Thomas asks in turn. Virgil looks at the window.
“Something’s up with my window? It’s like.. leaking.” He explains but not really. Thomas hums.
“Did this start up with the rain?”
“Yeah, I’ve tried cleaning it with towels but it keeps going.” Virgil says. Thomas makes another hum noise.
“Sounds like a problem with the roof. I’ll send one of the boys over.” And Thomas hangs up. Virgil isn’t as put off with the abrupt ending, expecting it this time around. He glares at the window and goes to wait for ‘one of the boys’. Oogie follows over and demands pets. It a decent distraction till a loud knock comes from the door.
Virgil opens it and it's just unbelievable how down right beautiful this guy is. His hair in perfect waves and a charming smile on his face. His sleeves are also cut like Remus's were, but far less frayed.
"Wonderful morning, my name is Roman. Our dear Mr. Sanders told me there were some ill issues with the roof is that right?" He speaks with such confident flamboyance Virgil is a loss for words.
"Yeah," Is all he manages to say. He's pretty. Way too pretty for this.
"Yeah, sorry it's over here," He turns and leaves the door open for Roman to follow. Roman laughs loud and proud and does just that. Virgil shows him the window and does not bit his lip as Roman jostles the frame showing off muscles that are illegal.
"The panes seems closed but I'll check outside as well." He turns and heads out the door. Virgil follows.
"And the roof?" He asks. Roman offers him a dashing smile, checking his tools that he attaches to his belt, holding up pristine white jeans.
"You may hear some noises for a while as I'm up there, but fear not, I'll find the problem." He gives Virgil a wink and with ease, he finds a ledge on the building and hoists himself up. Virgil does not squeak. Certainly not cause he's scared that Roman will fall, and certainly not cause he rolls his shoulders and Virgil can see his body move and god damn it he’s so not straight.
So he goes inside and pretends there’s not a real attractive guy fixing his roof. The noises of fixing continue for an hour or so, Virgil keeping busy with cleaning and some mild work emails. Then the noises stop. Virgil glances at his ceiling curiously.
"Uh, Roman?" He calls from his front door, making sure the dude didn't fall off and die.
"Be down in a moment fair tenant!" He hears. Virgil rolls his eyes and barely turns when Roman suddenly lands in front of him.
"Roof is all set. There were a few shingles out of-"
"Did you just jump off the roof?!" Virgil interrupts. Roman blinks at him and has the nerve to smiling so dashingly again.
"I dare say I did," he says as if it's no big deal. Virgil sputters at the reckless, careless, brash attitude. Roman is far too entertained by it.
"I'm honored by the concern, dearest. Just one more moment to check the window from the other side." He winks again and is walking around the building before Virgil can say anything.
He grabs Oogie and plants his face in her fur. Too gay to function. He talks to her plainly about how unfair it is that pretty boys plague his life, only to find out he can absolutely be heard through the window by Roman asking in a muffled voice.
"You think I'm pretty?" Virgil screams and hides in his room, hearing Roman laugh through the wall. This is how he dies, he decides. This is even worse than the time Damien had to tell him his lights weren’t broken, he just didn’t know how to use them. This is so much worse.
He groans loud and dramatically when there’s a knock on his front door. He doesn’t want to open it. But he does, cause it’s rude other wise.Roman stands there, smug expression and a bright smile.
“Checked everything and cleaned up some water. A few shingles out of place and a loose vent, got those all patched down. If it continues to leak it might be a bigger issue so be sure to call if it does. Anything else I can help you with?” He asks. Virgil takes a steady breath to say no.
“I think I’ve dug my own grave enough for today,” He says, further digging his own embarrassment grave. Roman gives another laugh.
“Enchanted to meet you pretty boy, have an amazing rest of your day.” And then Roman honest to goodness bows and drives off in the golf cart. Virgil closes his door softly and looks at Oogie who stares back from her perch on the counter.
“Don’t even start,” He tells the cat. She looks away like she doesn’t know what he’s talking about.
--
“Boogs! No!” Virgil does not like shouting at his cat. He doesn’t like shouting in general. But it gets OogieBoogieBitchBaby away from the wall she is using as a scratching post. She scampers off as he approaches, fingers going over the claw marks in the wall. He groans to himself.
He moved her cat tower because she kept getting onto his work papers. In revenge for disposing her from her favorite perch and sights of the room, she clawed at the wall instead, leaving a few nasty scratches behind.
“How am I supposed to fix this?” He asks where she’s run off, hearing her run around. He bangs his head on the wall. This is not how he wanted his night to go. In the end, he has Thomas’s number on his phone and piece of paper he tore to shreds in worry over what he could possibly say.
“Hello?” Thomas answers.
“Hey Mr. Sanders, it’s Virgil. I-”
“Virgil! How are you?” Thomas asks. Virgil takes a deep breath.
“I’m- I’m so sorry Mr. Sanders. It was an accident I swear.” He needs to apologize, cause if Mr. Sanders kicks him out, he’ll have to go hunting for places to live again, and who is going to take him with a cat who destroys things, and then because no one will take him, he’ll die on the streets and Oogie will eat his toes.
“My cat Oogie she got upset with me and she clawed the wall and I’m so sorry,” He says in a rush.
“Hey, hey Virgil it’s okay. It happens, our furry friends do funny things. I’ll send one of the boys over to help fix it right up, okay?” Virgil swallows a lump in his throat at Thomas’s easy solution.
“Okay,” He croaks out and then hears the click of someone hanging up. He lets his phone drop and then puts his head in his hands. He doesn’t want to be kicked out his apartment, or to have Mr. Sanders think bad of him as a tenant, or as a bad pet owner. He throws himself back on his couch. He feels so dumb.
Thankfully, there’s a gentle knock to his door. Hopefully his savior in this mess. He opens it to bubbly boy in round glasses, giving him the most cheerful smile Virgil’s ever seen.
“Hey there, evening to you, my name is Patton. Mr. Sanders said we have some kitty claws on the walls?” He asks. Virgil lets his shoulders drop.
“Yeah, I’m so sorry about it.” He says Patton waves his hand.
“It’s not a cat-astrophe, it happens. Can you show me where it is?” He asks. Virgil nods and steps back to let the boy in white jeans in, then pauses.
“Did you just make a pun?” He deadpans. And Patton giggles.
“Sorry, sorry, just slipped out. I’m pawfully bad at them.” He says with a bright smile. Virgil stares at him, then snorts into his hand.
“That was really bad,” He says but Patton just beams at him.
“Got you to laugh though.” And Patton should not sound so proud of making a stranger laugh. Virgil coughs to cover his awkward and shows him where Oogie got to the wall and Patton ‘tuts’ in response, putting down a bag of tools on the floor.
“I have just the thing to get this back in purr-fect conditions.” Patton opens his bag and pulls out some paint and calking. Virgil steps back to let him do his job, very aware that Oogie is hiding somewhere away from him. It makes him nervous to not see his cat in the area. Sure Oogie isn’t a registered therapy animal, but she does a good job of keeping him calm.
“There, al-meow-st done!” Patton smiles at him over his shoulder and adds another coat of paint to the wall, looking good as new. Maybe it’s the puns or the cute, but Virgil does relax.
“Thanks for that.” Virgil says as Patton cleans up. He giggles once more and waves Virgil’s concern off again.
“It’s no big deal, it’s what we’re here for.” He reassures. Virgil sighs and turns to the small meow behind him. Oogie is on the table staring at him. Patton lets out a squeal of happiness.
“Oh she’s precious!” He says in syrupy sweet voice. Virgil snorts again and looks between the two.
“Wanna pet her?” He asks and before he finishes Patton is shaking his head.
“Un-fur-tunately I’m allergic. But she is paws-itively adorable.” Patton coos and waves to the cat, Oogie does nothing in return but that’s to be expected. Virgil rolls his eyes at the both of them.
“Thanks again for your help,” He says. Patton beams and there are freckles on his cheeks. Freckles, too cute, not allowed.
“Of course! Anything else I can help you with?” He asks. Virgil’s turn to shake his head.
“I think we’re good now,” He says. Patton giggles once more.
“Have a claw-some rest of your night,” And that shouldn’t be funny but Virgil snorts again and Patton is proudly walking off.
--
What the fuck, what the fuck. Virgil stares at the door knob in his hand. He just went for a late walk to get his mail, Oogie joining him on his shoulders. Something rattled in the door knob when he opened it, having to actually shove the door open to get back inside after unlocking it. When he went to close the door, the handle came off in his hand before he could close it proper.
What the fuck.
He stares at the space where the door knob was and his open door. His mind immediately races to all the creepy people who can break in and steal things or kidnap his cat. Or even all the bugs that will make home in his food and hair. Nope. None of that.
“Hey Mr Sanders?” Virgil says first, his anxiety over the open door he can not close for fear it won’t open again overriding his normal fear of calling his land lord.
“Virgil! How are you? It’s very late,” Thomas yawns on the other end. Virgil winces. He probably should have thought this through considering the time.
“I’m okay, so sorry to wake you, it’s just. My door handle uh, fell off?” There’s a pause.
“Well that’s not good.” Thomas says.
“I’ll send one of the boys over.” He hangs up plainly. Virgil has enough time to worry if he made Thomas upset by calling so late, and worry Oogie somehow got out only to find her cuddled in her tower, when the bad lights from the maintenance golf cart shine through the crack in the door.
There’s an awkward knock and Virgil pulls the door open. He’s not sure who in their right mind has sunglasses on this late, but at least this gorgeous person isn’t using them to hide their bright eyes. They give him a quirky smile.
“Well this isn’t something you see every day.” They remark and Virgil has to huff out a laugh, some of his panic subsiding.
“Evening babes, I’m Remy. What happened?” He asks and goes about unscrewing the rest of the door knob, kneeling down and scuffing his white jeans that nearly glow in the darkness. Virgil tells him the lead up and Remy scoffs out a laugh of their own, giving Virgil a glance, that turns into a once over, that shakes him to the core.
“No worries, I can see the broken piece. Easy fix.” He winks at Virgil and gets a spare doorknob from the golf cart. Virgil stand idly by as he fixes it, keeping Oogie from getting too close.
“Wassup cat?” Remy asks and gently puts his knuckles to her head in greeting. She makes a noise and then trots off, satisfied with the attention.
“What’s their name?” Remy asks while he screws things back together.
“That OogieBoogie, Oogie for short, though she’s been more of an OogieBoogieBastard lately.” She meows at Virgil from the top of her tower. He hisses back at her. Remy snorts.
“Nice, I have an orange cat named Pumpkin.”
“Nice,” Virgil says back. Remy smirks at his response and keeps working. Vigil pretends the look on Remy’s face didn’t give him reckless night vibes, that he would take Remy up on if he asked, cause damn, the dude’s hot.
“May I borrow your key for a second babes?” Remy twists the knob a few times and with Virgil’s borrowed key, closes, locks, and opens the door with no problems.
“All good to go, anything else I can help you with?” He asks as he hands back the key. Virgil shakes his head.
“Nah, I’m good, thanks for that,” He says. Remy gives him a wink.
“Have a good night babes.” Another wicked smirk and Virgil does his best to close his door at a proper speed. His heart is pounding and these pretty boys will be the end of him.
--
“Hi! Welcome in, how can I help you?” Cute, is all Virgil can think when he enters the office. Pastel, is second. There’s a new receptionist at the desk, freckles and a mega-watt smile.
“Hi uh, I got a notification I have a package?” He stammers out. Oogie purrs at his shoulder, reminding him it’s okay.
“Sure! What apartment number?” Virgil rattles off his numbers as the receptionist looks in the package closet.
“For Virgil?” They ask. He nods and takes his box, keeping it away from Oogie as it’s a surprise for her birthday.
“Oh! I’m Emile by the way. I’m working in the office now so if you need anything just give us a call okay?” They’re so earnest. Virgil ends up just nodding his head, only speaking when Oogie bumps her head to his.
“Yeah, thanks,” He says and before he can make an exit Thomas appears from inside one of the offices.
“I thought I head you! Virgil, how are you?” He asks. Virgil gives him a soft smile.
“Good, and you?” It’s only polite. Thomas lets out a laugh.
“Good here too. Say, the staff is hosting a tenant party here, some games and some food, you should join us if you’re not busy.” Thomas hands Virgil a flyer with some gaudy colors. Virgil does a good job of not letting his dislike of the idea show.
“You should totally come!” Emile beams at him and it does something gay to Virgil’s heart. Virgil glances at the two of them smiling at him.
“I could stop by?” He offers not waiting to make them mad at him. They cheer and turn back to their jobs. Virgil walks back to his apartment, petting Oogie as he does.
“What did I just get myself into?” He asks her. She bumps her head to his hand in response.
--
It’s not a bad turnout for an apartment complex party. Virgil does show up, Oogie situated on his shoulders. Even though its closer to summer, He’s still wearing his hoodie if not just to give her a place to put her paws should she wish to.
There’s those plastic cheap tables lining around the pool area, boxes of pizza and some crinkly plastic containers of mini sub sandwiches sit on top. There’s a section for drinks and cups right next to. Virgil gets himself a cup of lemonade.
He glances about. Some people are playing some bean bag toss game, others are playing on the mini putt putt area Virgil didn’t even know they had. Lots of people are in the pool, messing around and splashing water at each other. He sticks to the sidelines.
“Virgil!” Or maybe not. He looks to who called his name and though he’s happy Logan called for him so he doesn’t have to be alone, he’s lamenting the fact that not only is it Logan, he’s also with Patton, Damien, and Remy. Fuck. Virgil goes bug eyed, giving himself a pep talk, helped along by Oogie making a ‘mrrp’ noise in his ear, and walks to his doom.
“Hey Logan,” Virgil says once he’s close. Patton waves as best he can with hands full of pizza.
“Sup babes?” Remy asks with damn smirk, sunglasses appropriate now. Virgil rolls his eyes.
“Damien, if you don’t remember,” Damien holds out his hand. Virgil of course remembers embarrassing himself in front of freaking sleek attractive Damien, but he isn't about to say that. Virgil takes his hand to shake and Damien flips it to bring a kiss to the back of Virgil’s hand. Virgil’s jaw drops as Patton giggles helplessly.
“Dee don’t do that!” He says but there’s not force behind it. Damien just smiles like the cat that got the cream.
“I didn’t know you two were familiar?” Damien turns the attention to Logan now. Logan just pushes up his glasses.
“I admit to helping Virgil carry in groceries more than once.” Logan says, giving Damien a look that Virgil doesn’t have the power to decipher. Patton whines.
“Kiddo you could have asked for more help,” He says. Virgil shrugs.
“Two trips are for the weak.” He and Remy tap their glasses together in a cheers.
“Yes and I’m sure dropping your groceries is also for the weak.” Logan chides and it does hit a little harder, but still Virgil taps his glass to Remy’s again in a cheers.
“Virgil!” Someone calls and Virgil is blinded by the force of Emile’s smile so suddenly in his face.
“You came!” He’s excited. Virgil nods and takes a step back. Oogie murmurs upset on his shoulder.
“Yep, I said I would and hey, free food.” He ignores the looks the others give each other and Emile just bounces.
“Well I’m glad you’re here. Me and Patton were gunna play corn-hole later, you should join us!” Patton gives an equally excited gasp as Emile gestures to the bean bag toss.
“Uh sure,” Virgil says. Emile bounces and waves, and is off to say hi to other residents as soon as he came. Virgil is reeling from the interaction and it only gets worse.
“Is that pretty boy??” Virgil hears the splash before he sees anyone but then Remus is there in his face, shirtless and in swim trunks and dear god, he has a tramp stamp.
“Hello again stranger~” He coos. Virgil musters up a hi when suddenly another shirtless person is standing next to Remus.
“It is pretty boy! How are you darling?” Roman says. Virgil has officially hit gay panic mode. If the earlier mix of suave and cute wasn’t enough to do him in, the pure amount of muscle now is going to do him in.
“Fine,” He chokes out. Remus and Roman both laugh at his answer. Great. If he hoped for any kind of saving from the others, it’s surely a dashed hope by the amused looks on their faces.
“Are you joining us in the pool?” Remus asks excited. Oogie hisses from his shoulders. Vigil raises a hand to calm her and she nuzzles his knuckles.
“Uh not today.” He says, which is the wrong thing to say.
“But another day?” Remus asks all wild excited. Roman shoves him.
“Like he wants to spend time with your gross ass!” Roman shouts playfully. Patton huffs and calls him for his language but he is ignored. Remus gasps offended with a wild smirk on his face.
“Sure he does, can’t keep his eyes off these guns,” And Remus flexes. Virgil smacks a hand to his face. Oogie dips to hide in his hood. Roman lets out a laugh and firmly shoves Remus back into the pool.
“The only gun he needs is a glock to the face.” Roman puts a fist in his hand, flexing as well. The pun does get Patton to giggle though and Damien rolls his eyes.
“Virgil I am going to get some food, would you like to accompany me?” Logan asks finally done with the nonsense.
“How do you know his name!?” Roman screeches.
“I asked.” Roman let's out an outright offended gasp for whatever reason. He doesn’t get to say another word as Remus from out of no where, runs and tackles Roman back into the pool with no such boundaries.
“Food sounds good,” Virgil says. Logan smiles softly at him.
“I think I shall join you,” Damien says looking into his cup which doesn’t look empty but who is Virgil to judge. 
“Come find me and Emile when you’re done okay?” Patton interjects before they can leave. Virgil offers him a two finger salute, and then leaves Patton and Remy to go find Emile, while he finds food.
“Idiots,” Logan mutters once they are away from the pool. Damien hums in thought.
“But not wrong,” He says.
“They aren’t right either.” Logan snaps back.
“Should I go?” Virgil asks as they are clearly not talking to him. Both Damien and Logan look at him scandalized.
“Certainly not!” Damien says and gives him a slick smile. Virgil swallows down his lemonade to keep his throat from clogging up. He spends some time talking to the two of them, making sarcastic comments and opening up. Oogie pops out to lick his hair at one point.
At that, Virgil finds Emile somewhere, letting them know he’ll be right back, wanting to drop Oogie off at home. He’s comfortable enough here to not need her reassurances, besides, she’s tired from napping and needs to go home to sleep. With some ‘hurry back’ wishes, he’s off back to his place.
He makes sure Oogie is comfy and goes to leave, finding Thomas waiting in one of the golf carts outside his door.
“Need a ride?” He offers. Virgil laughs and joins him in the small vehicle.
“Virgil if I may, I have a favor to ask of you?” Thomas says seriously. Virgil nods his head as his lungs refuse to let him breathe for fear of the favor.
“Please be kind to my grand kids yeah?” Thomas asks, an earnest look in his eyes. Virgil isn’t sure what he’s talking about, but then he looks up. All of the boys who have been coming in and out of his life to fix his home are there staring and waiting for him to get back with the same look in their eyes.
Oh. Virgil thinks.
Oh no.
--
AN: Lol that multiship life
Tumblr media
Edit: now with a part 2
4K notes · View notes
mirkwoodshewolf · 3 years
Text
A heavenly reunion pt. 1; Queen x reader
*Author's note*
This is it guys. After almost 3 years of writing this series it's FINALLY come to the end.  Like all good things, they must end eventually so here it is. The LAST chapter of my Rock Angel series.
I first want to point out the YEARS (except Freddie's death date) DON'T MEAN ANYTHING. I'M NOT TRYING TO PREDICT THE FUTURE OR ANYTHING LIKE THAT. I just picked these random years to represent when the remaining members of Queen will pass, AGAIN THESE AREN'T REAL DATES AND I HOPE THEY AREN'T.
Pt. 2 will be up in just a few minutes so until then, enjoy this first part.
Taglist:
@plethora-of-things
@waddles03
@psychosupernatural
@ixchel-9275
@simonedk
@queensdivas
@queendeakyy
@queen-paladin
@sparkleslightlyy
@starswin
@labessieisallama
@isabella-bby
@naturalswifty89
@onebigfangirlworld
@ssa-sadboi
@5sos-wdw
@jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels
@geek-and-proud
@wormzteef
@bohemiansweede
_______________________________________________________________
*3rd Person POV. June 23rd, 2051*
Rock star, animal rights activist, founder of organizations like ANGELS CURING AIDS, WORDS CAN HURT TOO; Victims and survivors of emotional and verbal abuse, and the ANGELS AGAINST STALKING that helps protect people from violent stalkers. Also apart of charities like the Mercury Phoenix Trust foundation. The Rock Angel (Y/n) Kline had lived a full life.
She continued to tour with Queen as they got many other partnerships throughout the years. But she most enjoyed collaborating with Adam Lambert as he reminded her of him, bright and ambitious just wanting to share his music with the world and he knew he could never fill in Freddie's shoes but he sure as hell made a name for himself in his own way.
She was also a part of the "Bohemian Rhapsody" film that had been made and got to know the actors playing the men that she had grown up with and came to see them as her true family. Ten years after the film released, her own story got to be told thanks to the rights of Paramount and the brilliant mind of Dexter Fletcher, who had directed the story of her boys and Elton John, another one of her dearest friends and mentors.
But now at the crippled age of 90, the Rock Angel now lived in the privacy of her home in London. She was forced to stop touring because just 3 years ago she was diagnosed with a form of dementia.
It was hard on her family and her 4 children and dozens of grandchildren even great-grandchildren to see the once strong woman they had once admired for so long and looked up to as a role model not only in music, but life.
In their current home of London, her husband of over 70 years Jack who had made a name for himself. After the whole stalking incident, Jack joined the ranks of the LAPD. He worked himself all the way to the top and became Chief for over 30 years before he retired by the time he was in his 60's.
He sat there by his wife's bedside stroking her long white hair as she lay there forced into bedrest. She looked up at him and whispered.
"Jack?"
"I'm here baby."
"Where are they? Where are my boys?" she asked.
"Our sons? They're just downstairs."
"No, no. I meant my boys." At those two words, Jack's heart broke as he looked at his wife sympathetically.
"Baby they've—they died. It's been so many years since they all left this world." At hearing her boys were dead, tears fell down her face but Jack held onto his wife and kissed the top of her head. "But I can show you their videos, if you'd like."
"Please. I need to see them. To tell them goodbye." Jack then reached for the I-pad and opened up the Youtube app and began typing in the very song that he knew he would need.
He knew his wife didn't have long and he wanted her to have one last happy memory of hearing the perfect song written by her boys.
Together they held the I-pad and soon the music video "These are the days of our lives" came on.
"Why does Fred look so sick?" she asked worriedly. Jack swallowed the lump in his throat and tried to explain.
"He was suffering from AIDS, and it—really affected him love."
"I wish I could've taken care of him." She said as she stroked the screen every time Freddie came on screen. At the instrumental break as she watched Brian skillfully play the guitar, she smiled and said. "Bri....he was such a good guitar player."
"He was, but nothing compared to you." Jack praised obviously playing favorites. He then took notice of his wife growing tired as the song ended.
It was time.
"It's okay baby, you can rest now." And she did just that. Her breathing slowed right as Freddie spoke the last 'I still love you' line and the video ended. "Goodnight my Rock Angel. Be with your boys once again." He then let out a sob as he leaned against his deceased wife.
At 10:45am on June 23rd, 2051 (Y/n) Kline was pronounced dead at the old age of 90.
Everyone who had collaborated with the Rock Angel or had looked up to her all gathered at her funeral. Close friends and family all came to mourn at the loss of the last of the greatest Rock and Roll singers. She was buried in her birth town of Leicestershire, right next to her real parents.
*My POV*
I felt peaceful. My mind was no longer hazy. I could remember everything once again, but what confused me was where I was. I found myself walking through a long corridor but as I passed a mirror, I stopped and backed up to find a shocking surprise.
I was young again.
I looked to be about the age of 19, when I first met the guys. My hair was in the same long wavy fashion I once had before I cut it. I stroked along my cheek just to see if this was real or a dream, but as I stroked it I found that it was. Suddenly a door opened before me and I don't know why but I found myself walking toward it.
Now I was in what looked like an office with everything you would see. Filing cabinets, a large desk filled with paperwork but what caught my attention was the abacus that stood at the front center of the desk.
"Ahh (Y/n) Kline, please come forward." I turned to see a man around his 60's with short black hair, a grim like face with sharp cheekbones and icy blue eyes. He wore a black business suit and he was intimidating but for some reason I came forward toward the desk.
He sat down and pulled out a file and began reading through it humming to himself then he said.
"Place your hand over the abacus." I looked at it to see that the color code was white and black. White at top and black at the bottom.
"What is this?"
"This shall determine your next step. Just place your hand over it and let fate do the rest." I didn't know what this was gonna mean but again I saw myself place my hand over it and the second I did, it started going frantic.
Moving up and down frantically with no one even touching it. It was mostly balanced most of the way until it finally majority of the counters went white. The man smiled and said.
"Give my regards to those Rockstar friends' of yours. I'll be looking forward to your next concert." He then snapped his fingers and everything went bright.
Next thing I knew, I heard the sound of birds chirping and felt the sun beaming down on me. I was then greeted with wide open fields and a giant house along with several barn-like homes. It was like Garden Lodge and Rockfield farm mixed into one.
As I stood a few feet away from the main mansion-like house I swore from the second window of the white satin curtains I saw movement. I walked towards the house and placed my hand on the doorknob, I paused for a few seconds before I finally opened the door. I walked in and it was exactly like Freddie's home of Garden Lodge.
I walked through the threshold to see the grand staircase to my right, the long corridor ahead of me and the entrance to the living room to my left.
"Hello?" I said as I stood there. It was then I felt something nuzzle between my legs and I heard a meow. I heard it again and I looked down to see a very familiar face. "Hey, Delilah." I picked her up and held her as she purred and nuzzled my face. I scratched under her chin and she lowered her head to lick my hand.
"No it should be more like this." I heard a low, smooth baritone voice say.
"No, no and no Mr. tuxedo! Bernie has it like this and it shall remain this way. He and I are the genius piano and songwriting duo and it'll stick to this rhythm and timing." Another voice boasted out.
Oh my god.....It can't be. I set Delilah down and she took off running up the stairs as I crossed the living room into the parlor where Fred kept his piano to see two men that I had not seen in forever.
"David? Elton?" I spoke up. The two men turned toward me. David looked so much healthier than last I saw him and he looked younger just like me, in fact he looked about the same age he was when he did Live aid as well as working on the Jim Henson project 'the Labyrinth'.
Elton on the other hand looked about the age from when he was first starting off, back before he began experimenting with all the drugs and all that. The vibrant ginger hair but he still had on those flamboyant sunglasses he always loved to wear.
"Is that—really you?" I asked bewildered.
"Oh shit it can't be. The high angel herself, the Rock Angel?" Elton dramatic tone.
"Yes, it's me."
"Ohh darling. Welcome home." David greeted me with a wide smile and open arms as he walked up to me. He embraced me as he chuckled warmly and said, "Did you have a good life darling?"
"Uh-huh. I had the best life." I said, my voice muffled within his blue suit.
"It looked like you did love." We separated and I couldn't help but admire just how healthy he was.
"How have you been David?"
"Much better darling. No more chemo, I can finally breathe again."
"That's good."
"Alright you overgrown smooth talker, let me at her now." Elton proclaimed as he shoved David aside and immediately came up and kissed both of my cheeks before embracing me. "Oh darling we sure have missed you."
"And I you Elton. Life just hasn't been the same without your music."
"Been practicing those scales I taught you?" he asked pointedly.
"Yes, whenever I could."
"That's my girl." He hugged me again and I buried my face into his shoulder.
"(Y/n)?" a choir of voices soon rang up. I felt my heart stop as I lifted my head, not believing what I was hearing. Elton let go of me and both he and David with soft smiles on their faces told me to go and see who it was. The four voices called out my name again.
I crossed through the parlor, ran across the living room until I came to the door and just halfway up the staircase, I felt my smile widen and tears fill my eyes.
"My boys."
"You're finally here!" Freddie proclaimed. My legs raced directly up the stairs and Freddie, Brian, Roger and John all gathered me at the center in a long awaited Queen group hug.
All I felt were arms wrapped around me tightly, kisses all over my head and face and gentle hair and back strokes. I don't even know how long we were in that hug for but I didn't care, all I cared about was the fact my boys were here all together. When we finally separated I finally got a good look at all four of them.
They were all so young and vibrant just like how I first saw them back in concert long before I became an intern, I would like to think they were now the same ages they were when they first played at the Rainbow back in 1974. Long hair and all.
"I can't believe you four are here." I praised.
"And we can't believe you're here. And with your long hair again, was this when you were most happy?" asked Brian.
"If by that you mean when I first became Miami's intern? Yeah, best day of my life. Do you guys hate it?"
"No darling we've loved you no matter what your hair length is." Freddie said as he stroked the ends of my hair.
"I only just hope you didn't bring along any extreme surprises. Belly button rings, more tattoos." Deacy teased me. I chuckled but felt tears fall down my face.
"Aww lovie what is it?" Roger cooed as I felt him rub my shoulder. All four of them looking at me with those concerned puppy dog eyes they all knew how to do.
"I'm sorry. It's just—I missed you four so much." They all awed as Freddie first took me in his arms and said with his head leaning against mine.
"I know darling. It seems like it's been forever since the five of us were together."
"Coming from you Fred you have no idea." I wept as I gripped onto him as tight as I could, burying my face into his long black hair which softly tickled my face.
God if there's anything I missed about Freddie, it was his warm hugs. They were always so warm and inviting, anyone who was lucky enough to be given any sign of affection from this loveable man was considered lucky, and I was fortunate to be one of those people, and now finally after almost 60 years, I was able to feel that affection once more.
We were now upstairs in the master bedroom to do some private catching up.
"Alright sister dear, come here you." Deacy said. I smiled and immediately went into his arms and he embraced me. As all of you know, after Freddie's death, Deacy was the one to take it the hardest. So much so that he hardly played at any Queen gigs except for maybe three occasions then by 1997 he officially retired and no one had heard from him since.
The guys and I respected his decision so in order to make sure he was alright, I kept in contact with Veronica and would occasionally ask how Deacy was doing as well as the kids. I had learned that the two of them had two more kids, Luke and Cameron and the two of them had been successful in their own ways, all of the Deacy kiddies had, especially Luke who followed in his dad's footsteps and played in a band of his own.
In fact with the permission of the parents, I had allowed my nephew Luke to play at a few of my tours, and god just seeing him play reminded me so much of his dad, not to mentioned he looked so much like him.
And it was an honor to play with a second generation of Deacon.
The sad news of Deacy's passing came to Jack and I from Laura on a cold November day in 2035. Out of the two of us, Jack was the most heartbroken because he not only lost a brother but his idol and mentor.
We were invited to the burial by decree of the Deacy clan but I made sure that through some makeup and wigs that Jack and I weren't recognized by press because we wanted this to be private. As Deacy would've wanted that.
"Ohh I've missed you so much (y/n)."
"Not as much as I missed you brother mine."
It was then my attention turned towards the last 2 members of Queen, the remaining members I kept working with till the end. Brian May and Roger Taylor.
Together in our lives after Freddie's death and Deacy's retirement, I had been there for everything Queen got to accomplish, and they did the same for me. In fact it was Brian who bestowed upon me my plaque to be initiated into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame before I was given my star right above Queen's.
I was also involved with some of the work they did for a little movie called "Bohemian Rhapsody", and they helped become a part of my movie "Set it all free Angel". I first turned my attention to Brian.
It had been almost 10 years since my movie came out and 20 for Queen's film Bohemian Rhapsody. I was in my home studio working on my next upcoming album when I had received a call from Anita telling me that Brian had passed away at the age of 93. It was a peaceful passing so he wasn't suffering or in pain which I was thankful for in a way, he's suffered through so much that if I wanted him to go out, it would have to be peacefully in his sleep.
The world was devastated at losing such an inspiring man. Not only in the music industry, but for his work in astrophysics, as well as the animal programs that he's helped funded and laws he helped raise awareness for.
When he died, I took over the business in his name and within 3 years; I finally helped get laws of abusing, harming or killing animals to be illegal and anyone caught doing that wouldn't get misdemeanors. They would face legal full sentencing of 20-50years in Federal prison. On the night the laws passed and I along with Brian's partnering animal rehab centers signed off on the law, I went to Brian's grave and told him everything.
I immediately glomped him into a hug and held onto his waist tightly. He embraced me back just as tight as I was holding him, me humming lovingly as I buried my face into his chest feeling him stroke down my hair. After what felt like forever, he separated from me and stared down at me with those loving hazel blue eyes of his as he placed both his hands at the top of my head before stroking them downward against each side of my head and ending by cupping my face in his hands.
"I am so proud of everything you've done (Y/n). I saw it all, thank you for continuing my legacy for animal rights."
"You taught me everything I needed to know about being kind and caring towards all creatures, so much so you helped inspire me to do my own animal rehabilitations and rescues. I just—wish I could've been there for you when you......"
"It was beyond your control love. But I didn't suffer. I knew you loved me, and would've done anything to come see me had you known. I never blamed you, so stop blaming yourself." I nodded as tears slipped down my face but with his thumbs he wiped them away before hugging me once more. I felt him kiss my temple before cupping the side of my face once more to kiss my nose.
Even as I got older and we were both in our senior years, he never once stopped with the nose pecks. I smiled and Eskimo kissed him before he pressed his forehead against mine. It was then I felt a hand on my shoulder and I turned to my right to see Roger standing before me.
Besides Freddie's death, I think the most devastating thing for me was when Roger died. It was about a year after Brian's death when I had gotten a frantic call from my godson Rufus that Roger had been taken to the hospital because of a stroke. Without hesitating, I got into the car and raced to West London Medical Hospital, where I met up with the Taylor pride.
I was frantic with anxiety and fear that I would lose yet a 3rd member of Queen. Over 48hrs passed when Rog finally regained consciousness and I was sitting right there by his bedside holding his hand. He spoke so softly it was like whispers on the wind and the only thing he wanted to do was go outside.
Reluctantly the doctors allowed it so my godchildren, and his wife Sarina took him out to the hospital garden and allowed me some one on one time with him. But I didn't know that that would be the last time they would ever get to talk to him. The last words he ever spoke to me were and I still remember it to this day, even up here in heaven.
"Brian and Freddie have come to collect me, they send out their love to you and Deacy. Look after the old bastard for us." And I literally felt his life slip away from my hand as he died right there in front of me.
For months I was depressed. I was allowed to go to the funeral and speak my eulogy and I sang at his funeral, this time my own rendition of Phil Collins' song 'You'll be in my heart.' It was also because of his funeral that Deacy and I got even closer than we had in years.
He had secretly gone to both Brian and Roger's funeral but it didn't take till Rog passed for him to physically approach me and we both just wept and cried from losing a father, a brother, a great friend together.
Finally when I finally gained the strength, me and the Taylor children all took a picnic up where Roger was born and just looked out beyond the fields of where his childhood home was and reminisced on all the wonderful memories we had of our father.
And it was from his death I produced my album 'Papa Lion' and dedicated it to him; 'To my Papa Lion, and all the other father lions out there. Keep protecting your children no matter what'.
"You gonna get into these arms or what love?" he asked me. I spoke not a word but felt tears in my eyes as I raced up and buried myself into his neck and dirty blonde almost brunette hair. He held me and spun me around, kissing all over my face humming and moaning lovingly.
When he finally set me down, he cupped my face just like Brian did but he gently leaned forward and very gingerly headbutted my forehead and the two of us nuzzled each other, rubbing our noses together.
Like a father lion and his cub reuniting with each other at last.
I held onto his wrists which still cupped the sides of my face and just allowed my tears to fall out but I couldn't stop smiling.
"I hope those are happy tears." He said to me. I sniffled and nodded.
"Yeah the—these are....ha-happy tears." I choked out.
"You know you don't have to be so strong around me, right lovie?" It was then I just broke down and wept as I embraced him. "Shhh, shh. I'm here my lion cub, I'm here. Papa lion is here." He whispered in my ear.
"God I have waited so long for you to say that." I whimpered out to hear him softly laugh and just hug me tighter.
"Oh my darlings.....my heart.....it's too full!" We heard Fred exclaim out dramatically. We both laughed as I nuzzled deeper into my papa lion's chest, happy to finally be reunited with them.
After finally calming down, we were all just sitting around the master bedroom. I was up against the couch leaning against Deacy's legs as he was currently brushing and braiding my hair.
"So you guys continuing to rock it out here in Heaven?" I asked.
"Don't you know it darling. Every good singer who has helped made a difference comes up here and we continue to live a peaceful eternity doing what we were born to do. Be performers." Freddie stated.
"In fact we just had our concert the other night. We got to perform alongside the Beatles." Said Roger.
"Shut up! The Beatles?!"
"You know it love, Lennon, McCartney, Harrison and Starr." Said Brian.
"Wow, I wish I could've seen it." I said.
"You will darling, we perform our concerts every single night. And it's always a mix mash of artists and bands collaborating together to perform the Greatest Heavenly Rock 'n Roll concert." Said Fred.
"Now that you're here poppet, you'll get the chance to perform with the best of the best." Said Deacy. I was flabbergasted.
"Holy......" I couldn't even finish it because I was just so shocked to think that I would be performing with the greatest artists long before my time and bands I wish I had the chance to record or perform alongside with. The guys all chuckled at me and I said.
"So that's why David and Elton were here."
"Mm-hmm. We're all performing together in tonight's show. Three artists of the 70's decade for the first time ever sharing the stage together." Said Brian.
"Ohh man what people would've killed to see that in person. I mean yeah you guys performed at the same venue like we did with Live Aid or did some recordings together but never all three of you guys on stage at once." I said.
"That's how it works around here." Spoke Deacy as he finished the last strand of my braid. I thanked him and observed the braid he had done and I commented.
"You've gotten better Deacy."
"Laura was good practice. My baby girl always wanted her hair braided."
"She may have gotten that from me, sorry." He playfully scowled at me but I cheekily stuck my tongue out at him. "Say Fred, where's Jim at? I figured if you were here, he would be too."
"Oh that man of mine, he's out tending the garden, come have a look." He escorted me to the back window and there I saw a field of flowers as far as the eye could see.
"Whoa. He's done all of that?"
"Been doing it since 2010 darling. Always a hard worker my husband. When he first came, I was worried he wouldn't like this appearance of mine, after all I didn't have my tache and my hair was much shorter than when I first met him."
"Jim loves you Freddie. He loves you no matter what you'd look like."
"And I did know. Turns out he's got a long hair kink." He whispered to me which made me choke out a laugh.
"Seriously?" He nodded ecstatically and that's when Deacy spoke up.
"We're still here Fred, no need to hear any of that."
"Oh god Deacy don't act so innocent. After all you were the one who wrote a song about pre-ejaculation." Deacy's mouth just gaped before turning stoic, and of course Rog and Bri were laughing their asses off. He turned to me and I shrugged saying.
"He's got a point."
"Okay yeah ha-ha fuck all of you."
"Oh come off it John. We mean no harm by it." Roger teased
"At least it's better than a car fucking song." Deacy fired back.
"That's not funny!" Roger proclaimed.
"It is kinda funny." Deacy sassed back.
"Okay, okay enough both of you. I had enough of your arguments to last an entire lifetime. I don't need to relive it now when I just got here." I stated.
"Sorry love." They both choired out.
"Oh (y/n), I do have a surprise for you though." Brian spoke up. I looked at him and said,
"What kind of surprise?"
"If I told you, it wouldn't be a surprise now would it?" He said as he walked right up to me.
"If you tell me, I'll still act surprise." He chuckled and wrapped an arm around me.
"C'mon love, let's head outside." We soon went down the stairs and headed out of the house.
Brian lead me to an open field about a half mile away from the house. There was nothing but green for miles ahead.
"Brian what's this about?"
"You'll see." He then took his index finger and thumb and curled them inward like pinchers before placing them against his lips letting out a loud whistle. We stood there for a moment that was until I heard a bark. A very familiar bark. No it—it couldn't be.
Soon jogging up the hill about a mile away was a German Shepherd. His familiar traditional fur coat shined under the sun as he looked right at me. He let out a couple of barks and soon several more dogs came running up beside him.
They consisted of a golden retriever, 2 pit-bulls, 3 huskies (1 traditional black and white, another grey and white and the last one an auburn coloring), a collie, and 4 Labradors (2 blacks, a tan and one brown).
With each dog that this pack had, I knew every single one of them. I turned to Brian baffled and he just grinned at me before nodding telling me that they were who I thought they were. I turned back around and the German Shepherd let out a bark. I then let instinct take over and ran as I cried out.
"Bucky!" He soon came running after me, as did all the other dogs barking and panting as they all ran down the hill towards me. "C'mon kids! Come on!" I proclaimed. Each dog was running as fast as they could but Bucky and the black and white husky Shasta were leading the pack. "C'mon kids!" Bucky let out some barks as he raced ahead of Shasta and we met half-way.
Bucky leapt with both paws to my shoulders knocking me down onto the ground.
"Ohh Buck. I can't believe it's you! Ohh look at you boy! Good boy Buck!" A second later Shasta came up to me whimpering happily as his tail wagged. "Oh Shasta baby boy look at you! Hi~ Hi baby boy~." Soon enough my entire dog pack was all up on me grunting and whimpering happily as they all began to tackle me, wanting my attention and love.
Now while you all know I've had Bucky and Sammy as the family pets for Jack and the kids. The other dogs have a different story. The two pitbull brothers that I had named Titan and Bear were rescue dogs when I was a part of an actual rescue mission with one of my animal charities in saving dogs from a Mexican dogfight.
Whenever I was free from touring and recording, I made sure they were well taken care of and even let them stay at my home for awhile before they were finally adopted by a good family.
My triple threat huskies Shasta, Maya (the grey and white) and Eevee (auburn) were actually Kelly's dogs. Shortly after she left for college, she wanted to fill her house with dogs so she adopted these three and very often when she would visit or we would visit her, these troublemakers were always there. Sweet and loveable but stubborn little buggers but I wouldn't take them either way.
The Labradors were also rescue dogs that I helped out. The black one Raider and white one Rowdy were just left abandoned tied up in the backyard of their owners homes. The owners had abandoned them and left them for dead in the hottest summer of the year. But thanks to my team we got them out, sheltered and good homes but I occasionally checked in on them since I couldn't let them go.
The brown lab Cleopatra and the other black lab Midnight were once stray dogs till my son Freddie found them and gave them some food and water. Since he didn't have the heart to turn them to the shelter he adopted them. They even started their own little family since Midnight and Cleopatra were mates together and had many puppies together.
And finally the beautiful Collie was Jezebel. Jezebel was something special because she was actually my nana's dog. I hadn't seen her since I was probably five years old, she was already an old girl growing up but from what I remember, she was so maternal with me.
Whenever my nana was busy with something, she knew she could trust Jezebel with me.
After giving every single dog my attention I finally managed to stand up and see all the dogs in my life standing in a row.
"Jezzy, Bucky, Sammy, Titan, Bear, Shasta, Maya, Eevee, Cleo, Midnight, Rowdy and Raider. I don't believe it. Good doggies. My lucky dog pack. I can't believe you're all here. How did you find them all?"
"I was out strolling wanting to observe the stars when I found Bucky and Sammy. They immediately recognized me and just came running right for me. Soon enough they brought me to meet the rest of the dogs you've known and rescued. I was surprised about the collie but I knew she wouldn't be among them if she wasn't a part of your family."
"Yeah, Jezebel was my nana's dog. I called her Jezzy cause I couldn't quite pronounce her name. She was like my guardian dog angel. Always maternal until she passed away of cancer when I was just 5 years old." I walked up to her and pet her head and she leaned up against me. "She even saved me from almost being attacked by a stray dog one summer."
"Well I'm very glad she did." Brian said as he walked up and stroked her head and she gave his hand a friendly sniff and lick.
"And you took care of all of them?"
"Well I'm an animal activist through and through. If Freddie takes care of every cat that comes to Heaven, I thought I should take care of the animals I've grown fond of, but also the animals my little protegee has taken on herself. As well as the family dogs." I smiled and Brian and thanked him with a hug and he gratefully hugged me back.
As the day drew to a close and nightfall came, the boys had escorted me over to the Heavenly Concert hall. If we want to look at it scale wise, imagine it as Wembley Stadium during the time of Live Aid back in 1985. We drove in a royal golden carriage fit only for her royal majesties themselves.
"Wow, it's just like Wembley stadium."
"It is in a way, but it can fit an infinite amount of people. Any and all are welcome to watch us perform." Said Deacy.
"And we won't need to do soundchecks or anything?"
"Nope. This is heaven darling. Up here everything works to the full capacity and capability. No have to worry ever again about sound checks or power outages." Freddie stated. Our carriage soon stopped at the back entrance and the doors magically opened.
I stepped out first followed by Deacy, Roger, Brian and Freddie. Deacy wrapped his arm around me and guided me into the building and the five of us followed the sign down to the basement level where the dressing rooms were.
And it was like they said, I saw dozens of stars with the names of so many artists and bands before and during my time. Elvis Presley, Janis Joplin, the Beatles, David, Elton, Led Zeppelin, REO Speedwagon, George Michael, Phil Collins, Bob Dylan, and everyone and anyone you could think of.
"And here we are darling, your dressing room awaits." Roger said as he stood before a red door with a golden star with wings on each side that read in bold black letters my stage name ROCK ANGEL. He opened it up and I was in awe.
Inside was a very large room filled with furniture, a huge makeup station with large mirror decored with lamplights around the perimeter of it.
On the left side of the dressing room were hundreds of different outfit's I've worn throughout the years. Everything was there on hangers along with some of the hats I wore, fedora's, cowgirl, and my famed flat caps of various different colors and styles.
While on the right; I could see just music instruments like the Red Special Brian had made for me up against a special holder up along the wall right by my makeup stand.
"Is this my....."
"Go on and have a look darling." I heard Freddie say in my ear.
"Okay. I finally have my own mall." I walked in and was just in awe at everything. It looked like heaven had taken my master bedroom from my first home I had after becoming the Rock Angel and just put it all here.
I walked inside and said.
"Ooo, very nice shoes." I pointed out on the shoe wrack seeing some of the styles of shoes I've worn. From combat boots, to Adidas', flats, and even the high-heeled boots that Deacy always wore during the 1970's.
"We're glad you like them darling. Why don't you go around that corner and press the black button along the dresser." Deacy said. I walked further in and reached a dresser and found the black button. When I pressed it, a couple of shelves slowly opened up revealing almost every pair of sunglasses I've always worn.
"Oh my god! I've missed wearing these." I picked up a pair of my ray ban black and gold framed sunglasses. "Didn't I make these look good?" I quickly turned to see the guys were gone. "Guys?"
"Over here love." I heard Brian's voice say. I walked towards the right to see my boys standing or sitting along some of the foot stools.
"Oh there you all are. Ohh nice amps." I couldn't help but see the amps up along the wall. "I—I'm just...." Before I could continue a remote was tossed over at me by Roger as he said.
"Before you even say anything else. Type in combination 2-1-2." I muttered the combination to myself as I pressed the numbers and soon the closet before us opened and soon revolving around were various guitars and bass guitars, shelves soon opened revealing several pairs of drumsticks each imprinted with my name on them.
I had no words.
"Umm....this is.....I can't—" I jumped back a bit as the top shelves suddenly opened revealing two different microphones. One was a basic black but it was bedazzled with red gems while the other one was pure gold with golden gems.
"Elton and I had a little hand of having your microphones designed." Said Freddie with a modest shrug.
"I mean....guys this is......unbelievable. And this is all mine?"
"Oh darling you should see ours. It's practically the entire mansion back home."
"Each star that comes here is given the full custom of what they've enjoy back on Earth. And since you've favored how you once had your rotating dressers back in 2011, it's all here for you but advanced into your instruments as well." Said Roger.
"And if anyone has any suggestion like if they're close to another artist, they can submit some suggestions of what should be in said artists dressing room." Brian spoke up.
"Aww you guys, I love you." I said as I came up to them and we got into a group hugged.
"We love you too (Y/n) darling. Now hurry up and get ready, the concert is about to begin." The boys left me to my own business. I walked up to my clothes rack and went through every style and decided that if I was to do my first concert in Heaven, I might as well wear exactly what I wore for my first concert as the Rock Angel.
After getting ready and doing my makeup the same way Freddie had done for me that day in Madison Square Garden, I picked up my Red Special and put it around my neck and left my dressing room.
"The Rock Angel is back." I looked up to see the boys standing across me in front of their dressing room, dressed to the T like they had at the they did at the Odeon theater Christmas Eve 1975. I smiled and said.
"Well look at you guys, it seems like only yesterday I was sneaking my friends into the house while Joanna and Graham were at their Christmas party just to watch you guys live at the Hammersmith Oden theater." I sassed.
"Thank you love, now c'mon time to head to the stage." Roger said. The lads cheered and I followed behind as we all walked back up the stairs and went through the corridors of backstage. Hundreds upon hundreds of artists were getting themselves ready to go up and perform.
I watched as the boys did their typical body warmups to get themselves pumped up when I felt a nudge at my arm.
"You seem quiet poppet, everything okay?" I looked up to see Deacy standing beside me.
"You said anybody whose anybody comes to see these shows right?" He nodded and I said solemnly, "Do....do you think my family, like my mum and dad know that I'm here now? That I'm here performing?" I felt him wrap his arm around my shoulder and he said.
"It's possible. Anytime a new artist or band comes here, it's fully announced far and wide throughout Heaven. So there's a good chance they might be out there in the audience."
"I hope so. I just want to show them what I've achieved, I want them to be proud of me."
"They are poppet. Just like we are." He embraced me in a one armed hug leaning his head against mine.
"I really have missed these moments between us Deacy."
"So have I. And I've got a hell of a lot of comforting to catch up on."
"Well now's a good start."
"Oi you two! Are we going to perform or not?" The two of us smiled as we heard Roger's voice cry out to us. My brother looked down at me and he said.
"C'mon, let's go do our thing." I nodded and we headed towards the guys.
*3rd Person POV*
Once again it was concert time. Every soul that had passed into heaven that was a fan of Rock and Roll or music in general came from far and wide to come to the concert of concerts, even bigger than the Earthly event that Live Aid gave the world.
Generations of artists and musicians that had come from around the world from many different backgrounds came to this very stadium to give the performance of their afterlives. Thousands, almost a million people poured into the stadium as the lights were flashing and doing their test run for each artist that would perform that night.
Soon Bob Geldof came onto the stage and everyone applauded for him.
"Good evening ladies and gentlemen. Welcome once again to the Heaven's Rock and Roll concert." Everyone applauded and cheered holding up signs of their favorite artists or bands that would be performing tonight. "It gives me great honor to announce that we recently were given a new arrival, but I won't give it away on who it is." The audience crowd because they wanted to hear who it was as Bob continued, "I'll leave that to the band who know her best. So without further ado I would like to bring up on stage the first band performance of this evening's festivities. These lads I knew personally and they helped make one of the biggest rock concerts even greater than I could ever imagine. These four individually talented young men rose to the stardom in the early 1970's before exploding into the worldwide phenomenon by the 1980's. Ladies and Gentlemen please bow before her royal majesties that is Queen!"
The crowd roared with applause as Bob left the stage and the stage grew dark. Soon the opening notes for "Now I'm here" began playing and everyone cheered louder as they began clapping in rhythm. Those who have seen and grew up seeing Queen live, knew exactly how to react and behave during a Queen concert and those who got to know Queen up here in heaven got a taste of what it would've been like had they seen them in person with all four of them up on stage.
Soon Freddie's silhouette and voice echoed through the speakers as he began to sing the song. When the song began to pick up, the lights on stage exploded as did fire from the sides of the stage as all four members of Queen were finally revealed to the crowd.
Freddie lead with the vocals and his mates and brothers backed him up on not only the vocals but their instruments, and ever the frontman he was, strutted the stage like it was his as his voice overpowered and reached out into the audience with a force unlike anything.
By the end of the song, Freddie proclaimed into the microphone.
"Thank you! Thank you, good evening everybody!" The crowd cheered as Freddie continued, "Oh it looks magnificent out there tonight. Okay my darlings, right now. Right now, we're going to take you for the first time ever we're taking you all to the battlefield. This is called Ogre Battle!"
The boys continued to play a few more songs like 'White Queen', 'Killer Queen', 'Bohemian Rhapsody', 'Don't stop me now' and 'Son and Daughter' included with Brian's famous guitar solo giving Deacy and Freddie enough time to change clothes for the next half of the performance. Freddie now wearing the famed black satin outfit with his chest exposed and diamond fingernailed glove as well as the chain glove on the other.
"Yes thank you, thank you very much. Featuring Brian May on guitar!" Brian took a bow as the spotlight shined on him and the crowd cheered. "Now then my darlings, as I'm sure everyone's heard we have a new arrival. A very special girl to all four of us. How would you all like to meet her?"
The crowd roared with applause and soon Roger began doing one single rhythmic beat. Hearing the beat made the entire audience clap in that single beat rhythm.
"She first rose to the spotlight in the summer of 1981. A bright, charismatic young woman whose music has touched the lives of millions. To us she wasn't a shadow of our fame, she was an equal partnership. The like of which we had never knew we could ever ask for. Ladies and gentlemen and everyone up in the balcony give it up for Heaven's very own Rock Angel, Mrs. (Y/n) Kline!"
From up on the catwalk above the stage, the silhouette of the Rock Angel herself came up and it appeared that she actually had angel wings sprouting from her back as she began the first verse of her famed song "Set it all Free".
By the chorus, the screen lifted up and she hopped off the catwalk and gratefully fell from the 10ft catwalk onto center stage playing her Red Special as her boys backed her up as they always did whenever they performed this song together.
And seeing the two artists perform together, Queen and the Rock Angel, the crowd was in pure excitement bouncing up and down and crying out the lyrics to the well known song that the Rock Angel's 'Bohemian Rhapsody'.
But none were more happy to perform once again than the artists that were on stage. It had been forever since it was the five of them together up on stage and they couldn't help but look at each other. As the guitar solo came up, it turned into a guitar battle between the Rock Angel herself and Brian May which got the crowd really pumped up.
By the end of the song, everyone was chanting out 'Angel! Angel! Angel!'
"Hello Rock and roll heaven how's everyone doing tonight!?" The crowd welcomed her with a roar of applause. "God I can't believe I'm here performing with my boys once again. And right now we'd like to bring out a special guest for this next number." She turned to Deacy who nodded and began playing his bassline for "Under Pressure" which got the crowd applauding louder.
"This man is a well-known legend and the birth of a true 'flamboyant' hard rocker. And a very close friend of mine." Freddie started.
"Six time Grammy award winner, 4 time Brit award winner, actor, musician. Everyone put your hands together for Mr. David Bowie!" (Y/n) proclaimed into the mic.
It was then Freddie and (Y/n) began singing the first part of the song as at the center stage a circular hole began to open and soon rising up onto the stage was David Bowie himself. He wore a royal blue suit with a black undercoat suit shirt as well as the business white shirt. A light blue tie and black shoes.
He soon began his line of the first bridge as Freddie and the Rock Angel backed him up. When the second part of the song came up after Freddie's little vocalization, David gave the gesture for (Y/n) to take the second part of the song. And as she always performed it, she would lowly sing in her alto range before suddenly belting out to the perfect volume as she would hold the note out for as long as she could letting the two legends back her up.
Just like the record Freddie and Roger softly sung the first part of the break, then David came in before (Y/n) belted out the why vocals before the song picked right back up. It was something that could only be seen in Heaven. Three legendary singers performing one song.
David Bowie, Freddie Mercury and (Y/n) Kline the Rock Angel.
The three lead singers stood side by side with each other with David on the left, Freddie in the middle and (y/n) to the right. The three in almost rehearsed synchronicity began to sidestepped across the stage as all three voices blended the bridge that it could give one an eargasm.
Agreeing with each other and knowing what she could do to close the song, both David and Freddie stepped back with (y/n) completely unaware as she just allowed the song to consume her.
At the final note, she let out a proud controlled belt that was first heard at Freddie's tribute concert and it almost seemed like the sun was rising as the stage was lit up in a heavenly glow as she held the note. The entire audience was in an uproar as they gave a standing ovation to the Rock Angel herself.
She turned around and saw the five older men smiling at her and applauding her for a phenomenal performance that they have missed so dearly.
The concert continued as Elton John soon came up on stage and together he, Freddie and (y/n) sang 'I'm still standing' a song that was personal to all three of them in some shape or form but they knew this was the perfect song for them all to sing.
After a few more Queen songs, with the allowance of their beloved Rock Angel since her set was about to come up after theirs, she allowed them to stay and be her band as she would perform her hit songs before the souls of Heaven.
Songs like 'Who I am', 'So good,' 'Bridge of light', 'Rock angel', her rendition of 'Somebody to love', 'We'll be together', and with her boys already up there with her they did a few more duets of Queen songs like 'Friends will be friends', 'Spread your wings', 'Fat Bottomed girls', and 'Jailhouse Rock'.
Finally their time was up and as 'God save the Queen' played through the speakers, all five of them stood side by side each other and bid the crowd a goodbye and thank you.
After watching several performances from backstage, and when the concert finally came to a close it was time for the after party. So just outside in the back a beautiful garden was set up with refreshments and plenty of drinks to fit everyone's needs and all the performers of the night came out to talk amongst one another and to celebrate another well-performed concert.
As well as to welcome their newest achievement.
*My POV*
Oh my god. That was a thrill rush, and now being here at the after party I saw literally everyone. Elvis, Janis, the Beatles, Little Richard, Elton, David, Hendrix, everyone in rock and roll big names were gathered around this beautiful garden.
As I went to go grab some water I felt a hand tap my shoulder and there stood John Lennon himself.
"So you are the famous Rock Angel?" I swallowed my water and was completely star-struck.
"Y-yeah I.....Mr. Lennon I....."
"Please call me John."
"Okay, John. Can I just say.....just between us that you were always my favorite Beatle out of the group."
"Coming from you that's a huge honor. And now I can finally rub it into Paul's face the bugger." I laughed and that's when I heard a female voice say.
"Alright let me at her, where is she?" And there donned with her famous fur coat, tall Russian-like hat and red circular shades was Janis Joplin herself. "And there she is. The one female rocker better than me." She spoke as she came up to me.
"Oh no Mrs. Jop—"
"Ah-ah. Mrs. Joplin is not my name. Call me Janis baby girl." I blushed and she wrapped an arm around me and said, "You know, you and I aren't so different kid."
"How so?"
"Well we both struggled in our families and personal lives, got together with some male rockstars to form a partnership before splitting off to have our freedom. The only difference is, is that I wish I had your strength. I decided to call it quits with heroin being my way to kick the bucket."
"You were someone I did look up to. I mean yeah you had your struggles, but hell you didn't take shit from no one. When conservative minds at the time wanted you to do it their way, you said....."
"'Fuck you. I'm doing it my own way!'" She finished off which made the two of us laugh. "Yah know something baby girl, I like you. Promise me for Lady's night you'll do a song with me?"
"It would be an honor Janis." She smiled and hugged me tightly.
"Alright my darlings, may we have everyone's attention?" Freddie's voice soon spoke up as he was now standing on top of a table. Everyone looked up and as the boys of Queen stood up front Freddie continued, "First of all magnificent show all of you. So cheers my lovely darlings." Everyone of us raised our glasses in the air saying 'cheers'.
"We'd also love to specifically say a wonderful show for our newest arrival," Brian spoke up. He turned to me and extended his hand out for mine. I took it and he gently pulled me up front so that everyone could see me.
"Our beloved Rock Angel herself, (Y/n) Kline." Roger spoke up as he smiled warmly down at me.
"To the Rock Angel!" Deacy stated as he raised his cocktail glass in the air.
"To the Rock Angel!" Everyone choired at me. I bashfully smiled and said.
"Thank you, it was an honor to see most of you perform tonight, and it was great to perform with someone of you once again after so many years. I hope I have the privilege to perform with every single soul here." I said.
We then raised our glasses once more and the mingling and partying continued long into the night.
117 notes · View notes
juletheghoul · 3 years
Text
Mysticus Chapter 1
Ezra x F!Reader Soulmates AU
I've had this idea bouncing around in my head for a while and after reading all of the AWESOME writing on this website and with some really lovely encouragement from some of my favourite people here I've decided to give it a go. Always open to constructive criticism!
Pairing: Ezra x F!Reader
Word Count: 1649K
Warnings: Language, tension? (Smut later on)
Literally my first fic, willing to tag if that's something you'd like!
Masterlist Chapter 2
--
“Stay away from Thomas”
The words were out of your mouth before your brain had a chance to stop you. Fuck. The girl you whose palm you held in your hands frowned.
“My date? Why?”
How. How did you always manage to shove your foot in it? You had been doing so well! A steady trickle of patrons to your admittedly shabby little stand. Okay, table with a glittery table cloth and a couple of folding chairs but nevermind that.
“Uhhh, yeah. I’m not sure why but I’m getting a really bad vibe. Is this your first date with him? Where is he?” You asked. You could feel the fear creeping in, like a drop of ice cold water that slides down your spine.
“It’s our first date, he’s grabbing us some food.” She responded, brow furrowed slightly, you could see she was having doubts about her safety.
“What kind of vibe are you getting?” The fact that she didn’t laugh you off right away let you know that she most likely wasn’t as comfortable as she should be on a date.
Your dog looked up at you from her place on the floor, seemingly interested in how you were going to explain yourself.
“Look, I don’t really know what to say I just feel like you should get away as fast as possible. I think you know what I mean, and I think you felt a little weird before you sat down.” You say plainly. You had broke your only rule. No bad news. You could feel her fear now, a wave of anxiety washing over the both of you all at once. In the corner of your peripheral you could see a handsome young man walking towards the both of you with food in both hands. Nothing particularly scary about him but you could feel the hackles raising on your normally silent dog. A low growl came from her direction and you put your hand on her head to calm her.
“There you a-“ he started but before he could say anything else the girl was up, dropping money on your table and hastily making a phone call.
“Sorry Thomas – my mom just called, there’s been an emergency and she’s on her way.”
He frowned. “I can drop you off-“
“No need, thanks for everything and hopefully we can do this again” she quickly called over her shoulder and then she was off.
He stood there for a few minutes dumbstruck. Then you saw something. A glint in his eye maybe? A trick of the lights flashing either from the rides or the games on the either side of your pathetic ‘booth’ and then it was gone. When he seemed to realize that you were sitting there, he gave you a smile and walked away. You shivered and noticed your dog was up and ready to pounce.
“It’s okay girl we’re good.” You reassured her and she once again took her place at your feet, but you noticed that she followed him with her eyes until he was out of sight. Fuck you really needed to work on thinking about what you said before you said it. At least she listened instead of telling you to fuck off, little victories.
“What do you say girl, think it’s time to go?” The dogs ears perked up as you scratched behind one, she responded by standing, her signal for yes. You grabbed the box you had stashed under the little table and started putting your makeshift booth away. The sign which read palm readings $5, the table cloth and the can with your earnings for the night. Slipping the end of the dogs leash around your wrist you folded up the table and chairs and stacked everything neatly and made your way to your Jeep. Tomorrow will be better.
Next day
Carnivals had always freaked you out. A lot of places that were supposed to be fun and whimsical freaked you out. You weren’t entirely sure what it was about these places but it made your skin crawl. The music playing gave you the creeps, the smiles of the people around you seemed wild rather than happy. There was a feeling of something bigger underneath it all, something hungry. Predatory. Patient.
It was a last resort in order to make some quick money with your palm readings, but it always seemed like you were walking into the jaws of some huge monster when entering the grounds.
The dog made you feel better. You had found her in a shelter a couple of years ago and had instantly bonded with her. The staff had told you that she’d been in there for a while since she was notoriously unfriendly but she seemed to tolerate you. You suited each other. What they took as unfriendly, you understood as selective, which was fine. You were selective too. You’d had to make a little sign saying please do not pet the dog but it was a small price to pay for her companionship. She - much like you - was an excellent judge of character.
You spotted a group of teenage girls eyeing your booth, and you perked up. Tried to turn on the charm as it were, usually teenage girls were your best customers. You were usually really good with them and these girls were just what you needed to reach your goal for the night. You smiled along and told them just what they wanted to hear, and seeing them walk away giggling with a spring in their step made you happy. That and the cash you were putting into your coffee can.
Just then you felt it. Something prickling at your skin, like static before a rainstorm. Blood rushed to your ears and it seemed like everything was somehow louder. Something in the pit of your stomach was roiling and you were afraid you might throw up when someone approached your table.
He smiled an easy smile but it held something in it, something that said he knew something secret and you weren’t in on it. You weren’t sure if it intrigued you or scared you. You looked over expecting the dog to growl but she was calm, sitting quietly by your feet. Okay. Weird. She usually didn’t like anyone except you and the occasional small child. She usually hated men in fact but no reaction. It was throwing you off a bit if you were honest but all of a sudden he was speaking to you and you felt like you could barely focus.
“Well birdie, seems like you’ve utterly captured my attention and I simply must know what knowledge you can ascertain from my palm.” He smiled and sat down.
You blinked. What the hell was going? Why did your skin feel feverish? Why wasn’t the dog freaking out like she usually did? Why aren’t you answering?
He patiently waited with his palm upturned and you tried to get your shit together as you slowly reached over and took his hand. He was handsome sure, but never had you been rendered so speechless by anyone before. His rich brown eyes bore into you as you traced the lines in his hand.
“You’re going to meet the love of your life.”
He raised an eyebrow.
“Now that’s interesting, I don’t suppose you’d be able to go into specifics about how or when this fateful meeting is to occur?”
You watched his mouth as he spoke, and he noticed. Curling it into the same secret smile from earlier and you felt the blood rushing to your face. His eyes crinkled when his smile deepened it took everything in you not to smile back at him.
You noticed the blonde birthmark and for a moment you had the wild urge to run your fingers through it. You quickly suppressed that while clearing your throat.
“I don’t have a time and date for you but it’ll be real soon.” You looked back down at his palm and noticed something. There was a little mark. Nothing crazy but aside from yourself, you’d never met anyone else with the same mark on their palm. You tried very hard to keep your breathing in check.
“Is this a scar?” You asked as casually as you could manage.
“That particular mark as afflicted me since birth, curious is it not?” He asked with a tilt of his head. His drawl a little more pronounced. Is it getting hotter?
“Somewhat-“
“Has anyone ever had the privilege of reading the no doubt fantastic future in your palm birdie?”
“That’s the second time you’ve called me that” you responded focusing on the pet name he’d given you.
“It suits you, I ask again- has anyone ever been fortunate enough to read your palm?”
“No.” You responded flatly, reluctantly releasing his hand and sitting back in your chair. He stated back at you and it felt as though he was looking through you, you felt curiously naked.
“As enchanted as I am basking in your presence, I unfortunately must depart. Will you be offering your palmistry services tomorrow night? I should like to see you again birdie.”
“Uhh.. yes, I’ll be back tomorrow.” You’re not even sure why you said that, you were planning on leaving town tonight.
“Wonderful, until we meet again birdie.” He rose smiling, he took your hand in his and pressed a light kiss to it. You stared up at him in shock, your skin prickling where his lips brushed it.
He smiled down at your dog and before you could even think to warn him he reached down and scratched behind her ear. Your jaw dropped as she happily licked his palm while he murmured something into her ear before promptly rising to his feet and striding off into the crowd.
You stared after him long after with the same dumbstruck look on your face. Who the hell was that?
-----------------------------------------
Tag list: @foli-vora @frannyzooey thanks for being patient with me ladies, this ones for y'all <3 @freak-nasty-thick-dick-mando
161 notes · View notes
phantom-curve · 3 years
Text
For @panickosdisordr2, set in a high school AU where everyone is alive, I give you absolutely flustered Luke and poor, sweet, long-suffering Julie.
#38: stroking their leg & #41: sitting close and knees touching
Luke was still getting used to the fact that being Julie’s boyfriend meant he didn’t have to be so nervous about touching her anymore. For so long he had been forced to overthink every single interaction with her, needing to constantly toe the line of friendship even when he wanted so much more. Every touch, every lingering glance, had to be just this side of friendly. And no, he wasn’t always successful. Quite often his glances lingered a beat too long and his touches came close to being more proprietary than he had any right acting as a friend. Luke had made a list of rules to keep himself in check and he repeated them over and over before, during, and after he spent time with Julie.
Rule #1: No looking at Julie for longer than 30 60 seconds.
(30 seconds had been the goal, but who was he kidding? Julie was a freaking wrecking ball of musical talent and wickedly beautiful. 45 seconds was the absolute minimum he could handle, and even that was kind of pushing it.)
Rule #2: No writing blatantly obvious songs about Julie.
(Because really, every song was about Julie. But Julie didn’t need to know every song was about her. And Alex and Reggie really, really didn’t need to know, and no, just because they guessed didn’t mean they knew.)
Rule #3: No looking at Julie’s lips unless there was a microphone between them.
(He barely managed this one, which was why he kept sharing the mic with her more and more the longer they practiced and the more comfortable they became preforming together. It was the best kind of torture, and it wasn’t creepy, Alex, pay attention to drumming and not front people stuff!)
Rule #4: No touching Julie except for her shoulders and her arms and her waist (but only if they were hugging!)
(So what if Luke made sure to hug Julie a lot. He was a touchy-feely kind of guy, everyone knew that, and he only hugged someone after making sure they were okay with it. Julie never pushed him away, in fact she seemed to like the fact that he was so open with affection and comfort. It was fine.)
But dating Julie meant that all of those rules went right out the window. And Luke was still figuring out how to navigate that.
Julie didn’t seem to have any problems on her end. She slipped seamlessly from best friend to girlfriend without missing a beat. She would lean into him when they sat next to each other during lunch and move his hair out of his face without hesitation as she gazed into his eyes with a million stars dancing in her own. Her touch was casual but affectionate, her fingertips almost always finding some patch of skin to skim across whenever he was within arm’s reach. She kissed her way along his skin with an enviable ease, never holding back because she wasn’t sure he would like it, but instead blazing a path along his cheek or his collarbone or molding her lips against his as if she had always known that was what he so desperately desired most in the world.
Luke would never tell her, but part of his hesitation was because he felt wholly undeserving of her unwavering devotion. What had he ever done to earn someone as bright and beautiful as Julie Molina? He knew if he told her, she would have a million and one reasons why he was wrong, so he mostly kept it to himself and reveled in her easy affection every chance that he got. He should have known that eventually she would call him out on it.
“Luke...do you...not want me to touch you?”
He just hadn’t expected her to ask like that.
They were working on a new song out in the studio, a place Julie had chosen that he had assumed was because she didn’t want Carlos bothering them and because they had easier access to their instruments out there. They were sharing the couch, sitting across from each other with a shared notebook open between them, offering different lyric ideas back and forth as they tried to nail down the right lines. Luke hadn’t even realized that Julie had slowly been moving closer. He had only registered the feeling of their knees brushing occasionally, skin touching skin because his jeans were ripped, and she was wearing a pair of shorts to combat the stifling LA heat. Every time she had leaned in, he had leaned back, his years long set of rules so engrained he had forgotten that he didn’t have to follow them anymore. It was only when Julie quietly posed her question, teeth peeking out to bite down on her lower lip, cute little top gap flashing at him and reminding him that she was his girlfriend now, that he realized what he had been doing.
“Julie, no, of course I want you to touch me!”
Luke felt himself flush from head to toe as he realized how his words had sounded. He scrambled forwards, knocking their knees together painfully, although Julie, to her credit, didn’t even flinch. He took a deep, stuttering breath and tried again.
“I didn’t...I wasn’t trying to move away from you. I just...sometimes I forget I get to do that now.”
Julie quirked a brow and tilted her head slightly. Luke wanted to scratch his eyeballs out so he never had to see her looking so hurt and confused again. He groaned, reaching behind his head to give his hair a soft tug, recentering himself in the moment. He forced himself to meet Julie’s gaze and explain in a way that would actually make sense. He also made sure to scoot forward a bit so that their kneecaps were firmly pressed together, skin to skin.
“I just...for so long I wanted to be able to touch you in any way and have it be totally normal and okay.”
The words weren’t flowing perfectly, and Luke cursed the fact that Julie was able to scramble his brains and mess with the one thing he had always felt confident in. He pushed on though, because this was Julie, and if anyone was going to understand him, it was her.
“But I didn’t...I couldn’t...we weren’t like that, you know? We were friends and yeah, I love my friends, and I hug my friends, and I’m affectionate with them or whatever, but with you it was...different. I didn’t want to just be friends. But I also didn’t know what you wanted, and more than not wanting to just be friends, I didn’t want to not be a friend, so I made these rules. Rules about how I couldn’t say too much or do too much or touch you too much because it would mean more to me than it would to you and that wasn’t fair. And then everything changed, and you liked me too, and now we’re like a freaking dream, like I don’t always believe it kinda dream, and so I fall back on the rules. Because what if I say too much or do too much or touch you too much and I ruin everything?”
That...was a lot more than he had meant to say. But Julie wasn’t looking at him with judgement in her gaze. Her eyes were gentle and warm, her lips parting almost as if she was in awe, her features softening completely. She reached forward, slowly and deliberately, to place her hands along his thighs, just above where their knees were still touching. She leaned in, the pressure of her hands strong and steady, her scent invading his senses until everything in his world shrunk down to nothing more than JulieJulieJulie.
“You could never say or do too much. And you 100% could never touch me too much. Do you know how long I waited for you? Do you know how many rules I tried to come up with, how many nights I told myself over and over again that I needed to just get over you because it was never gonna happen? How many times I was so sure I was going to ruin the band and our friendship because I was so stupidly in love with you and nothing I did could stop it?”
Luke was having a hard time remembering how to breathe. He hadn’t ever thought about any of that. Because Julie had always seemed so confident and self-assured. She had been the one to make the first move that turned them from friends to more. She had been the one to confess how she felt first. She had always been his safety net, taking the plunge before he could, reassuring him so that when he stepped off the ledge, he knew she would be there to catch him.
“God, I love you so much,” his words were fierce and intense as he touched his forehead to hers and whispered them into the small space between their lips. “What the hell would I do without you?”
“Well, you’d probably still be trying to figure out the bridge and ending to Edge of Great without me.”
Luke growled and lunged forward, tackling Julie to the couch, and smothering her shriek beneath his lips. He felt her mouth curve into a smile, the kiss turning sloppy as she giggled uncontrollably. Her hands wound around his shoulders, twisting into the hair along the nape of his neck and threatening to turn him boneless against her. He broke away, propping himself up on his forearms so that his body remained stretched out along hers as he stared down at her.
“I can’t believe I get to be with you. You promise it’s not a dream?”
“If you’re dreaming, I’m dreaming. And I don’t think we can actually share dreams no matter how much we love each other. So, you’d better believe it, babe. I’m yours, forever.”
That did turn Luke boneless, every inch of his being melting down on top of hers, so they were connected from head to toe. Julie didn’t protest. She just pulled him closer, whispered you’ll always be mine against the skin of his neck, her breath hot and spellbinding against his skin. Luke didn’t argue. Who could argue with a goddess like Julie and expect to win? The best prize of all was knowing she loved him just as deeply as he loved her; he wasn’t about to try and convince her otherwise.
If Luke was able to love Julie for the rest of her life, it wouldn’t be nearly long enough for him to show her how much he cared. But that’s what ever afters were made for, right? A lifetime and then some. Luke knew with every fiber of his being that he would love Julie far past the time their respective stars burned out. That’s what destinies were all about. Loving forever and ever and ever. Even after you thought you were gone, the legacy lived on, timeless and unbreakable. That was them. Forever and a day, no end in sight for the rest of eternity.
77 notes · View notes
nationalharryleague · 4 years
Text
Portfolio
Tumblr media
Pairing: Harry Styles x Reader
Genre: AU, Angst, Boss!Harry
Word count: 3.5k!
Warnings: Domestic violence mention, boss/employee dynamic
A/N: Hi! I decided to write another fic after Overnight was received so well! Again, thank you to anyone who read and enjoyed it! I’m not sure how I feel about this one lol but I think it’s good enough to post. Please let me know if you enjoyed it and send feedback! Thank you for reading!!! More of my writing can be found in my masterlist! 
Part 2
You had always been a teacher’s pet. Growing up, you were the kid who worked hard to get a 4.0 GPA just for the rush of getting a compliment on your intelligence from your teacher. You craved that validation for all the hard work you put in and you just wanted people you admired to like you. And not for nothing, you deserved the compliments. At work, you were the first one there and the last one to leave. You loved your job and it showed.
You were currently working your first job with any real power at an up and coming public relations firm, Styles Public Relations. SPR was quickly growing in size and recognition and being brought onto the team was a dream come true. You loved everything about working there. The offices were beautiful, it paid well, and your ideas and proposals were finally being heard and brought to the public. Well, you loved everything except one glaring, irritating, and gorgeous problem: your boss.
Harry Styles was a striking man. He was tall, impeccably dressed, and obscenely attractive. His skin was perfectly tan and when it got warm in the office you could see  beautiful tattoos revealed by his rolled up sleeves. Those sleeves were worth more than your life and his head-to-toe Gucci ensembles usually showed his wealth off well. He looked like he should be on the front of a magazine, not behind a desk. Well, he was on the cover of Forbes that one time. While he was so nice to look at, the man was anything but nice. He had an abrasive attitude and not much care for pleasantries or mincing words.
Today, you found yourself on the opposite end of his brutal disposition. You had brought a campaign proposal to him for a newly acquired client and he began to rip it to shreds.
“I don’t know why you thought this campaign was a good idea, Y/N,” he told you sternly. “It’s childish, silly, and unprofessional.” Every word he said dug into you. You tried to attribute his harshness to it being Monday, but you knew he would say this to you any day of the week.
“The client said they wanted something more playful to soften their image,” you defended yourself. “I was doing what they asked for.”
“Well, you did a terrible job at it.”
That stung. You had dedicated your life for weeks to this proposal and had expected him to love it. You hoped this was finally the proposal that would secure your position in his good graces. Apparently, not.
“Okay. I’ll restart the project with a different angle.” You moved forward to grab the binder off the conference room table and flee the room back to the safety of your office. You were shocked when he put his own hands on the binder and slid it away from you.
“You’re off the account. I’ll have someone else do a better job,” he spat. Now, that really hurt. Your ego was closely related to your career and you knew you deserved better than this. You did everything you could to hold back your tears, but one betrayed you and fell down your cheek. You believed you saw his hard exterior soften for a split second before his ruthless demeanor returned.
“Fine,” you breathed, never breaking eye contact with the cruel man. “I’ll leave you now, your highness.” The words left your lips before you could fully register them in your own head. You turned on your heel and rushed back to your office, thinking about the insubordination complaint coming your way.
“Did I just get myself fired?” you asked yourself softly when you were finally in the safety of your own office.
The rest of your week passed in a blur. By Friday, you had accepted your fate and decided to get every passive aggressive dig at your boss you could before you carried your things out in a cardboard box. When you saw him around the office, you made sure to make direct eye contact and shoot daggers his way and you responded to his emails with one word answers. You were also producing the best work you had in years. Turns out, spite was a fantastic motivator for you. If he was going to fire you, he would feel bad about it.
As usual, you spent your Friday night typing away in your office. You were a workaholic and had no problem with staying at work late. Unfortunately, so was your new nemesis.
You caught your first glimpse of him after-hours on a trip to the copier. Your next was on your trek to the coffee pot. Later, on a walk around the office to stretch your legs. Each time you saw him, he was in the same spot. He sat at the conference table surrounded by spreadsheets and graphics and stared perplexed at the piles of paper encompassing him. You knew you could go in and ask him if he needed help, but you wanted to watch him suffer. According to him, you would just do a terrible job anyway.
It was about 7 o’clock when you heard a firm knock on your office door. You expected it to be the cleaning crew asking to vacuum your office. With a ‘come in’ your door opened and your boss’ large body leaned up against the door frame, careful not to enter the office he knew he wasn’t welcome in. While you were shocked he was coming to talk to you, you stayed quiet. If he wanted to talk to you, he would have to break the silence. After a few awkward moments, he did.
“Um, I was thinking about ordering dinner if you wanted to join me.” This was by far the nicest thing he had ever said to you other than ‘you’re hired.’
“Well, what are you getting?”
“I’ll buy you whatever you want for dinner if you take a look at the investor relations portfolio I’m working on.” You were taken aback. He was asking for your help. He needs me, you thought as you smirked to yourself.
“Make it the Italian place down the street and we have a deal,” you countered. You didn’t want to spend anytime with him at all but you were taking this as a sign that  1) he wasn’t firing you, and 2) he thought you did good work. Also, their spaghetti bolognese was calling your name.
Soon you were both knee deep in documents and investor information packets. You absolutely could not believe it but the two of you were collaborating well and making real progress on the portfolio. This was the working relationship you always wanted to have with your big shot boss; the opposite of his constant criticism and belittling of your work.
When the food arrived, you both decided to take a break and eat like an entire company’s stock shares weren’t resting on your shoulders. While your conversation stayed surrounding work, it inevitably steered towards the account he had taken away from you.
“So, how’s my campaign doing?” you asked. You knew it was a risky question but you two had been getting along and you decided you needed an update on the account that had become your baby.
“I gave it to Marcus and-”
“Marcus? Really?” You interrupted  him. “Marcus is a shithead.” Your baby deserved better than Marcus.
“You didn’t let me finish,” he said in a joking manner, with a small smile. The smile was just big enough for you to notice that he had dimples. He had never smiled in front of you before. “He’s doing a horrendous job and I was going to give it back to you on Monday.”
“Thank you. I appreciate the second chance,” you confessed. “Can you level with me for a minute?” you asked after a moment of silence. “Why did you rip into me like that? You could have just told me that it wasn’t right for me and taken it away.”
You watched him think for a moment. He scratched at his five o’clock shadow (that was more like a 9 o’clock shadow now) and you could tell he was searching for the right words.
“Because it got you fired up, but I could tell I hurt your feelings and I apologize.” You never expected an apology for the way he acted and you no longer regretted showing him your emotions. He had hurt you and he should feel bad for it. “I thought you were getting complacent in your ideas and you’ve been killing it since Monday.”
“Thank you for the apology. Here I am thinking you did it just to be a dick.”
“Is that what people in the office really think of me?” He looked genuinely hurt and you felt slightly guilty for being the bearer of bad news. But you hoped if he saw it from his fearful employees’ perspective he would lighten up a little.
“Do you want me to be honest?” He nodded his head. “You act like you have a stick so far up your ass it’s touching your brain and that you’re better than everyone else because your suit costs more than my rent.” If he never minced his words, why should you?
“Oh Y/N, tell me what you really think,” he said after a pause with a light chuckle. You were surprised by his reaction. You never expected him to take something like that so well.
“Listen,” you began again. “I understand and respect your toughness on us. But there is a line between criticism and just being mean.” You decided this was a time to call him on his shit, during this very very rare moment of comradery between you. You wanted to have a healthy relationship with him, maybe even a friendship.
“I understand that I can get a bit harsh. It’s just the whole ‘is it better to be loved or feared’ thing. I’ve always thought fear would be the safer option.” You felt like you were getting to pull back the layers of his hard shell and see the human being underneath for a brief period of time.
“But if you were truly loved, no one would ever betray you,” you whispered softly, always the romantic.
“Love has never been reliable, has it?” Your heart broke for him and you realized someone doesn’t become as hardened as he is overnight. Something did this to him.
“What about love being the most powerful force on earth?” you wiggled your eyebrows at him, referring to the slogan for an engagement ring campaign you were both working on.
“Well, when your wife tries to steal the company that you built together and run away to Spain with her personal trainer, love gets a little bit more complicated.” There it is, you thought to yourself. This was the first time he ever felt like a real person to you; not like a teflon shell of anger, wealth, and ambition. His features looked softer and he seemed less like your evil boss, and more like someone dealing with a painful trauma.
“I’m sorry, Harry,” you said softly, genuinely meaning it. “Oh shit, sorry. Mr. Styles,” you corrected yourself. He laughed at your mistake and you watched his dimples reach their full potential. He looked down at the table, obviously a little uncomfortable with his rare moment of vulnerability with the woman who was probably the biggest pain in his ass in the office. Before you knew it, you had decided to share your own uncomfortable vulnerability.
“My ex put me in the hospital while I was still living in New York,” you began, watching his eyes immediately jump to yours and listen intently.
“Oh Y/N, you don’t have to talk about this… I didn’t mean-,” he tried to stop you but you figured if he shared with you, you could share with him.
“No, it’s okay. It’s been a long time,” you reassured him, shaking your head softly. “We were fighting because I found out he had been cheating on me. I had packed a bag and was trying to leave when he pushed me down the stairs of our apartment building. I broke my arm in two places and I had to have a few surgeries.” You rolled up the sleeve of your blouse and showed him the scar that ran down your forearm. You scanned his face and it looked like he genuinely cared about you for a moment. You brushed it off. “After that, I decided I needed to leave New York.”
“Why London?” he said gently.
“I was obsessed with this English boy band when I was growing up,” you laughed. “I guess I romanticised London in my head and decided it might be a good place for a fresh start.”
“While I’m incredibly sorry you had to go through all of that to get to London, I’m very glad that you found your way to me,” he spoke tenderly. His face was serious, but not the seriousness you were used to while getting scolded about your work. It was gentle and like he meant every word he said. You were happy you found your way to this version of him too.
“To the firm, I mean,” he corrected himself and you felt a weird pang of sadness inside of you. You are just his employee, remember that, you thought to yourself.
“I’m happy I found the firm too. If only I could figure out how to deal with my hellish boss?” you asked sarcastically, rolling your eyes dramatically and laughing at him. You realized that this could definitely be taken as flirting, but you decided were okay with that.
“Maybe they’re just trying to push you because you are by far the best campaign director they have,” he said nonchalantly, leaning back in his seat and watching your every movement. You felt your cheeks heat and the rush of adrenaline from finally getting his validation. This was all you ever wanted from him.
“Oh, I know,” you smirked, leaning back in your own chair and studying him as well.
He really was gorgeous. His quaffed hair had fallen over the course of the day and a few stray pieces hung on his forehead. His black dress shirt fit him so well. You were fully able to appreciate the tailored fit after he had shrugged off his blazer and removed his tie, unbuttoning the top few buttons to reveal glimpses of two swallows that sat on his collarbones. A chain that you had never gotten to see hung around his neck, a cross and the Star of David resting on his chest.
“We should get back to work,” he murmured after a few extended moments of staring at each other.
“Probably.”
You two worked for another hour or so before you let out a small yawn and Harry insisted you both call it a night. Although you protested and told him you were fine, he was firm in his demand that you go home and rest. As you packed up your things in your office, he hovered in the room and watched your every move. Conversation was relaxed and casual, not stained with the malice you usually had towards each other.
He took your briefcase from your hands, offering to help as you struggled to carry a poster and a few proposal binders, and carried it as you walked in step with each other out of the office. When you reached the front doors and went to go your separate ways, you were met with a puzzled look on his face.
“Where are you going? The parking garage is this way?”
“Oh, I don’t have a car. I take the tube wherever I have to go.”
“Let me drive you home,” he offered. When you denied his proposal, you were met with a stern, “Let me drive you home or you’re fired.”
Although you fought him the entire walk to his car, asserting that you were fine to take the train, you climbed into his beautiful jet black sports car with a huff and a pout. He had a triumphant smirk on his face that you were tempted to slap off, but decided to take this as a sign from the universe that you just weren’t meant to get blisters from your heels walking home tonight. You watched as his long fingers gripped the steering wheel skillfully and you both sat peacefully, the silence between you only interrupted when you gave him occasional directions to turn right or left. The soft sounds of a Fleetwood Mac song you couldn’t remember the name to flowed through the speakers and his mouth silently lip-synced the words. You admired him the whole drive home and you didn’t want to get out of the car when he pulled up to your building.
You both departed the car, walking around to the trunk where he had stashed your briefcase. Your casual conversations had long passed, both of you beginning to mourn the night you had together. You had enjoyed this night far more than you anticipated and you hoped this would be the first of many late nights at the office that he would join you for. You looked up at him when he handed you your briefcase and you both stood there in silence for just a few more fleeting seconds, neither of you wanting to be alone yet. You were first to break the noiseless night.
“Thank you for dinner and the ride home, Mr. Styles.”
“Please call me Harry,” he said with a subtle smile, stepping up on to the curb, closing much of the space between you.
“I can do that, Harry.” His first name felt foreign on your lips but it was a welcome change.
“Thank you for all your help tonight. I needed your fresh set of eyes on that portfolio.” This interaction felt so intimate; his words hushed and complimentary, intensified by his body’s proximity to yours.
“Whenever you need me,” you breathed, refusing to break the eye contact you were both desperately holding on to.
With one swift step he pressed your bodies and your lips together, backing you up until your body pressed against his car. You dropped your briefcase to the ground and your hands flew up to the base of his neck. He tasted like the lemon cookie he had ordered for dessert and you smelled his intoxicating cologne as you drank each other in. His hands snaked their way under your blazer and rested on your hips, pulling you impossibly closer to him. His kiss was deep and demanding and you weren’t sure if you ever wanted it to end.
This morning you couldn’t stand to be in the same room as him and mere hours later you were ready to bring him up into your own. He was infuriating and rude and knew just how to push your buttons. But, he also seemed to be gentle, kind, and thoughtful when he wanted to be. Harry Styles was an enigma. You couldn’t wrap your head around him and it drew you to him even more.
Your bodies flowed in perfect sync with one another and your open-mouthed and hungry kisses were so hypnotizing you couldn’t think. Harry was the only person that existed to you anymore, tuning out the murmurs of a passersby, and anywhere your skin touched his was lit on fire.
Finally coming up for air, you breathlessly peeled your lips away from the other. You both refused to break your eye contact, your hands gripping tight to his biceps to steady your weak legs, and scanned each other’s faces.
“You have a little something,” he murmured, reaching to wipe your smudged red lipstick from your bottom lip with his thumb. You leaned into his touch and smiled up at him.
“So do you,” you panted, staring at his lips that were now stained red.
You both just stood there for a little while, soaking up the other’s company before you pulled away and things got more complicated. He was your boss after all, was this even allowed? Did he want to be something more than coworkers? If things ended poorly, would you still be able to work together? Would he be nicer to you now?
“It’s late. You should get some sleep,” he eventually broke the silence and your spiraling thoughts.
“I agree. You worked me real hard today,” you smirked at him, unable to pass up the innuendo. An amused grin spread across his lips and he took a step back from you, releasing you from his grip against the car. He gathered your things you had dropped on the ground during his assault and handed them back to you.
Harry leaned forward and pressed a kiss to your cheek that lingered a little too long to be considered friendly. It made your cheeks burn.
“I’ll see you Monday, sweetheart” was the last thing he said to you before he climbed back into his car and drove off into the night.
Part 2
1K notes · View notes
slytherinsnekxvii · 3 years
Text
let's talk about severus snape. he's one of the most controversial characters the internet has to offer, with several blogs, channels and pages dedicated specifically to hating him, despite him having one of the most—if not the most—intriguing character arcs the series has to offer. so, as a result of me coming across far too many of said blogs, channels or pages, here's an extremely detailed explanation of why i like him and think he's easily one of my favourite characters :)
1. he's not that bad of a teacher.
just so you know, i'm a teenage girl fresh out of high school. so, my experience with teachers? still keeps me up at night :)
my family is pretty strict about religion. you can guess what that means. anything that was magic-adjacent, especially something that, god forbid, had an entire school dedicated to witchcraft and wizardry was a hard no if i wanted to have any sort of freedom over the media i paid attention to, and any opportunity to go about my life without being monitored to make sure i wasn't suddenly possessed or something. thanks to this, i ended up secretly reading the philosopher's stone in my last year of primary school. i would've been 11 at the time, just about to turn 12, so a little bit older than harry and co. going on what i'd heard from those who had already read the series, i went in expecting to absolutely despise this man. i went in expecting to read a demon. i finished the book and came out thinking... that really wasn't that bad.
my mom found out, so i didn't get to read the rest of the series until i ended up on the executive committee for my school's book club and my friends were appalled that i'd only read the first book. at this point, i'm still expecting him to get worse and... he just doesn't. when i was in primary school, i had multiple teachers break wooden meter-long rulers across my classmates' backs. the first time it happened, i was in infant year 2 (about 6/7 years old). i had teachers who would insult us, based on anything from hygiene to behaviour to intelligence if you looked at them wrong. my sister (who was three years ahead of me) had a teacher who kept her in hours after school was over because the teacher had a written a note in her workbook upside down, and when my sister corrected her, the teacher made her rewrite it, turning the book each time the note was written so it would never be done the correct way.
in secondary school, i had teachers who would actively humiliate us in front of the class if we didn't do as well as they wanted. i had teachers who would throw markers and whiteboard erasers at us if we did something they didn't like during class. i had a teacher who looked for a friend of mine who was petrified of attention and then mercilessly picked on her until she went to the bathrooms to cry. these are the kinds of teachers that i was used to. so, when i read harry potter and read snape, who would have probably been one of the nicer teachers i met in my lifetime, i thought to myself, he's really not that bad. he's just... strict.
antis claim that he traumatised every kid that ever went through his class, that he straight up abused them and... no. he didn't. all of them are comfortable talking back, they talk during his class, no one trembles when he walks past, except for neville, who usually bore the brunt of snape's anger because he was consistently messing up in a potentially lethal class.
after school, i hated the thought of formal education, so now i'm working until i feel ready to do university. coincidentally, one of my jobs is teaching maths and english to kids writing the end of primary and secondary school exams. given the sheer amount of annoyance i feel sometimes, i actually respect him for not being more harsh with them, especially when they're all running off into danger or exploding cauldrons.
he really isn't that bad of a teacher, and we know this, since his classes' owl results are said to be consistently good.
plus, he was written in the 90's when all this was okay behaviour for teachers. hell, compared to some of the teachers in text, given that he goes out of his way to make sure the students are always protected, he's a lot better than most people give him credit for.
2. i relate to him.
come on, the man grew up to be a dramatic, queer-coded, petty bitch who wears all black all the time and likely has at least one mental disorder. i'm a petty, emo bisexual with (actually diagnosed, don't worry) depression and anxiety and I'm in a theatre group. what did you really expect from me?
on a serious note, both of the schools i went to were considered "prestigious". i got into my primary school because of a teacher's recommendation (she was a family friend). the second school i got into was because i scored ridiculously high on the placement test that would determine which school i went to. in primary school, i was the poor, really awkward, really smart kid who got left out of everything, and my best friend was the only kid who was worse off than me.
in secondary school, i was just as smart as everyone else... but i was still poorer, and still more awkward and still got left out of everything.
i got that isolated feeling, that feeling of not being good enough, that feeling where life always seems to have it out for you and that's even though i still got dealt a better hand than snape ever did. so, i get it. i'm never ever going to have it as bad as he did, but i acknowledge what he went through and i sympathise, because i have a chance, but it only ever got worse for him.
3. i genuinely enjoy his character.
this dude went through absolute hell for basically his entire life. the best years he had were probably when he was neck-deep in the group of people who hated witches and wizards like him, but somehow managed to treat him better than the good guys.
all of that, and he still manages to be one of the most entertaining motherfuckers in the whole series, with one of the most interesting character arcs ever. it's the witty lines, the sheer dynamic of his character, the change from the twitchy, hypervigilant kid from the slums to the adult that managed to spy on the Dark Lord himself and save the wizarding world in the process, while still being a hot mess of a person. it's the managing to get shit done while everybody hated him and everything was going to hell. it's the everything, and i haven't even talked about how badass he is.
come on, potions prodigy turned master, exemplary duellist (cough, cough, winning 4-on-1 vs McGonagall, Flitwick, Sprout and Slughorn, and leaving a scratch on nobody, while managing to not take a single hit himself, cough, cough), spellcrafter, spy and one of the only wizards to ever figure out unaided flight. dark arts master, proficient at healing (dumbledore would've been dead a lot sooner, if it weren't for him, most likely). he's one of the most powerful wizards of his time. i've said that any universe where he's actually a bad guy—or just legitimately loyal to the death eaters—is a universe where voldemort wins and this is why. if he was motivated by literally anything other than lily, the wizarding world was more than likely fucked.
the point is, i just think he's neat.
4. spite.
every time i appreciate snape, a snater feels like someone is walking over their grave. every time i appreciate snape, a snater turns blue out of sheer rage. every time i appreciate snape, a snater loses their mind looking for their non-existent reading comprehension.
the spite in my veins is tempered only by the broth of instant ramen and ungodly amounts of sugar, and i'm going to use them all in my mission to cause antis pain when they refuse to acknowledge their lack of critical thinking and analysis skills.
so, yeah. why do i actually like snape?
tl;dr: he's not that bad. for a teacher written in the 90's and compared to teachers i've had within the decade, the guy's just strict. sure, he's a dick (who i personally think is hilarious), but he always makes sure the students are safe and he didn't leave any lasting effect on any of the students. he's really not that bad of a teacher. and hell, he's not even that bad of a person. i fully admit that he was an asshole and i entirely believe he was prone to self-destructive behaviour, but he still tried to atone for his mistakes and he did, is the thing, even though the odds were stacked more or less completely against him. i like him because he entertains me, and because i relate to him, as a teen who went through some shit and probably would have joined up with some bad people if it weren't for my friends and family, and as a teacher who really can't stand my students sometimes. i also like him because it irritates people who don't like him :)
also, istg if any of you respond to this with "bUt hE was ObseSsED with LiLY and just WAnTEd to FUCK hEr," i'm crawling into your bedroom window with the most unrealistic, mangled interpretations of your favourite characters and making sure they haunt you in your dreams. meet me in the fuckin' pit, babe. reread the series, actually think about it and come with receipts that aren't Voldemort, because i don't think you want to have the same opinion as the character who canonically doesn't understand love, now, do you, sweetheart? when you do that, then, and only then, will i consider entertaining your bullshit :)
that's about it from me, thanks for reading!
105 notes · View notes
giuliafc · 3 years
Text
Betrayal Chapter 4: Lila's Plan
<< 1 -- 2 -- 3 -- 4: Ao3 || FFN -- 5 >>
Written by: JuliaFC
Beta: myimaginationflows
Summary: Nathalie was right, and luckily she'd reached out!
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by (c) Thomas Astruc, TS1 Bouygues, Disney Channel, Zagtoon, Toei Animation. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
Written for the "Snippet July" challenge of the Miraculous Fanworks Discord server @miraculousfanworks AND for LadyNoir July @ladynoirjuly Day 15 — Affair/forbidden. Let me know what you think!
oOoOoOoOoOo
"Girl, CODE RED."
Marinette cringed when she saw Alya's message as she got dressed the following morning. They were lucky to have developed their plan the night before. Drooping her shoulders, she picked up her school bag and ruefully walked downstairs, and then to school.
When she went through the gates, she was attacked by a hoard of upset girls.
"Who do you think you are, Dupain-Cheng?"
"The superheroes of Paris are property of the whole city!"
It took her a few minutes to detach herself from the infuriated girls. She received a lot of glares that followed her as she walked up the stairs and gulped, thanking her lucky stars that Nathalie had reached out the previous night. When she entered her classroom, the only friendly pair of eyes she could see were Alya's, Nino's, and Adrien's. Everyone else was scowling at her, while Lila shot her such an evil smirk that her heart cringed.
Luckily, Mlle. Bustier was already there and the lesson started after she walked in. The atmosphere was tense though, so tense that even Mlle. Bustier sensed it and tried to relax everyone by focusing on satire in the history of French literature, especially the works of Rabelais', Molière, and Voltaire. Reading some of the material did cause a few laughs, but the atmosphere didn't get any lighter.
Luckily, the situation degenerated when Marinette was walking down the hall, knowing that in order for their plan to work, she had to be challenged while in the open.. One of the girls who'd attacked Marinette earlier stood in front of her, arms folded on her chest.
"Where do you think you're going, Dupain-Cheng?"
Marinette flashed her eyebrows, pretending ignorance. "Home to eat. Maman and Papa are waiting for me. Now if you excuse me…" she said, but the girl challenged her.
"You're not going anywhere until you explain this!" She took out a picture that showed Marinette and Chat Noir wrapped in a hug.
Nobody noticed Alya winking at Marinette and disappearing for a few seconds before coming back. She approached Marinette and looked at the picture.
"Nice one!" she exclaimed. "Can you send the original file to the Ladyblog?"
"No!" The girl looked almost outraged.
"Why are you showing it to us, then?" Alya blinked.
"Don't play with me. Dupain-cheng is a two timer and a terrible person. The whole school knows that she's in love with Adrien Agreste. Yet, she starts an affair with Chat Noir! The hero of Paris isn't a trophy to collect!"
Alya's smirk widened. "Okay, girl, let's rewind the tape. First, what you just said about Marinette's crush is cruel, since her crush is just standing over there." She pointed at a very relaxed Adrien who was resting his back against a tree while observing the scene, not taken aback at all by what he just heard. The girl looked towards Adrien, as if she noticed his presence for the first time. "Besides, all I can see is a nice picture of Marinette hugging Chat Noir. He's a very touchy kitty, he even hugged me once, and caused a row with my boyfriend, but there was nothing between us. What makes you think that Marinette's having an affair with him?"
The girl was taken back by Alya's straight-forwardness. "B-but Lila said that…"
"Lila? Oh… did she take that picture and show it around?" Alya raised an eyebrow.
"Y-yes. She sai—" As the girl was saying that, various exclamations of joy resounded in the air as Chat Noir made his appearance, propelling himself with his baton on top of the school's hall. Alya started waving and calling him, trying to be heard.
"Alya! Chat Noir has more important things to do than—" But she was cut off by Chat Noir landing behind them.
"Did you call, fur Lady-blogger?" he grabbed Alya's hand and placed a kiss on her knuckles.
"Flirt," smirked Alya and Chat noir gave her a playful wink. "We were wondering if you could clear up this misunderstanding for us, Chat Noir, before these people throw any dirty glances upon Marinette." She put both hands on his shoulder and looked him in the eye.
"Ask away. I'm not the type to leave a fur damsel in distress."
Alya pointed at the picture the girl was still having in her hand. "Maybe you could explain that?"
Chat Noir looked at the photo and furrowed his eyebrows. "Oh." He scratched his chin. "That's from the other night. When I posed for Marinette's line and you recorded the video?"
Alya's eyes widened. "Oh, that night?"
"Yes. I hugged her to congratulate her, because her line is fantastic." He turned to the girl who held the picture. "You should visit her website, MDC.fr. There's a video of me posing for a new line based on Ladybug and I. All great stuff; I'd recommend the hoodie—so soft."
"Y-you mean there's nothing between Marinette and you?" asked the girl. Chat Noir made an outraged face.
"You wound me! This cat only loves his Lady. And besides, I don't start affairs with purr-incesses that are already taken!" He looked at Marinette and wiggled his eyebrows. "As purr-etty and talented as they may be, they're forbidden!"
"Taken?" Alya widened her eyes. "What do you mean, taken?"
Marinette's gaze moved from Chat Noir to Adrien and blushed. "Uh, well," she groaned, but Adrien grabbed hold of her hand and showed it to Alya, pointing at a small, but shiny golden ring on her finger, and matching it with one on his left hand.
"Right what he said. She's taken. Private property." He winked at Chat Noir, who bowed theatrically.
"Since everything is cleared, I'll s-cat!" But his words were ignored by everyone because Adrien placed a kiss on Marinette's lips—which made the whole school squeal.
The whole school except the green-eyed Italian girl who spied the scene from the distance and groaned.
To be continued… day 16
-------------
Author's Note
Here's Day 15! This is so much fun :) Hope you liked it as much as I liked writing it, and will leave me a comment. You know that comments are my bread and butter!
Until tomorrow, bug out!
26 notes · View notes
simpsiren · 3 years
Text
closer to you
lee jeno x reader
main masterlist
the sequel
Tumblr media
description. you’re in a 2 year relationship with jaemin. the two of you know very well that you arent each other’s soulmates but you still felt that jaemin was the right one for you. that is until you are celebrating your 2 year anniversary with jaemin that memories of you being with someone else in your so called “past life” starts coming back to you, as if wanting to make you realise that your soulmate is still out there.
genre. soulmate au, strangers to lovers au, fluff and angst
warnings. none? except for the fact that reader becomes violent in their words when they’re stressed i guess
a/n. literally got this idea from the flashback tiktoks thats been appearing in my fyp. like ive seen it so many times that i just had to write about it HAHA alrighty thats all enjoyy :D
Tumblr media
when the idea of soulmates was first represented to humans, humans deeply believed in it, and would follow the idea of it religiously to find the one that they are truly meant to be with. however, now in the modern day, the idea of soulmates is slowly disappearing. people still believe that the number engraved on the side of their right foot is the time and date that they’ll meet their soulmates, but people of this generation start ignoring that fact, marrying someone that isnt even their soulmate. it left their actual soulmate to either die alone, or having to force themselves to love and marry someone else other than their soulmate.
and now here you are, surrounded by your friends with jaemin sitting next to you, your boyfriend of two years who’s number on the side of his foot does not match yours.
“blow out the candles already!” you hear johnny screaming. you and jaemin turn to look at each other at the same time, giving a smile before blowing out the two candles on the red velvet cheesecake that signified your two year relationship with jaemin.
you laugh loudly as everyone claps for the two of you. jaemin quickly places a peck on your cheek, making everyone smile widely. “i love you.” jaemin whispers into your ear.
“i love you too.”
Tumblr media
“do you really not care who your actually soulmate is? you know very well jaemin isnt yours.” you purse your lips into a thin line as you find jaehyun leaning against the doorframe of your bedroom.
“does it look like i care? who the hell even cares? ill be with who i wanna be! i aint gonna follow some ‘oh you’re destined to be with this guy’ type bullshit.” you giggle to yourself as you took a sip the whiskey in hand, despite already being in a very drunken state.
jaehyun walks over to you and snatches the glass away from you. you whine and beg for it back, but you know all too well that jaehyun is not going to give you what you want. you let out a huff in response.
“my god, evaline. how drunk can you be?” jaehyun takes a seat on the chair that faces your bed, in which you are currently rolling on and mumbling to yourself about god knows what.
jaehyun sighs as he looks at you. he’s been your friend for almost forever yet he still cant get over the fact that no matter how hard he tries to persuade you that jaemin isnt your soulmate, you give zero fucks about it.
“i really hope he comes in your dreams or something. if i can’t convince you, then why isnt the world doing anything about it?” jaehyun whispers to himself, resting his chin on his palm as his elbow is placed on the arm rest of the chair.
Tumblr media
you wake up with a sharp pain in your head. you wince as you slowly tried to sit up straight. you rub your eyes and try looking around your room. everything is normal, except for the fact that jaehyun is sleeping on your chair. you shrug your shoulders as you let out a long sigh and stare at the door in front of you, spacing out for a little. after at least five minutes of you doing nothing and staring off into who knows what, you gather up your strength to stand up from your bed. you stagger your way over to jaehyun.
“jae, wake up already. make me something to sober up- ouch!”
your foot suddenly hurt, making you stumble back and fall onto the floor. you flinched in fear when you realise the number on your foot is glowing. you scream in pain as you feel as though something thin and sharp is constantly stabbing your foot. the spinning in your head only made it worse. jaehyun wakes up from all your screaming and drops down on the floor to assist you quickly.
“evaline? eva! what’s wrong? wait why’s it glowing..” jaehyun eyes travel from your scrunched up face to your leg, noticing the number that’s glowing.
suddenly, your vision became blurry. you lost sight of what’s happening around you. you dont see your room and jaehyun in front of you anymore. you struggled as you try to squint your eyes to get your vision to be clear. it took awhile for your vision to come back. and when it did, something wasnt right.
it was like you were having a flashback. a flashback to a time you were unfamiliar with. you didn’t remember experiencing it at all. but the flasback looked like memories that you feel a sudden strong connection with.
the flashback was vivid. you couldn’t tell exactly what was going on. you saw a guy, estimated to be around your age, who’s smiling widely till his eyes form a thin line and holding up a polaroid camera to your point of view. you heard him laugh as snaps a picture and the camera’s flash shined your view. you soon focused your vision again onto the guy. he’s waiting for the film to develop. and that’s all you saw. a small snippet of a far distant memory which you arent even sure if it happened.
after that, you snapped out of your odd trance. you feel jaehyun shaking your shoulders with the look of extreme concern on your face. you bring your hand up to your head and scratch it slowly as you tilt your head in awe. jaehyun stops his actions as looks at you wierdly.
“what the fuck did i just experience?” you mumble to yourself, trying to process what you just went through. you look up from the floor to see jaehyun blinking his eyes rapidly.
“you saw what?”
you were this close to slapping jaehyun in the face.
“how many times do i have to fucking repeat myself?! i got a flashback of a memory of some random dude that i dont even know about!”
jaehyun’s mouth remains open in shock and confusion. it took him a few seconds to process your words. and when it did, he places both his hands on the table.
“its a sign.” your forehead creases as you look at him weirdly.
“the fuck you just say?” you pick up your fork and stab it into your freshly cooked fried chicken meal.
“is this the first time you experience it?” jaehyun asks you as he takes a sip of water. you took a moment to think about it.
“yeah it is.” you breathe out. jaehyun only nodded his head. he starts thinking about what he wished for that night had something to do with what happened to you.
“you know what? forget it. i need to meet up with jaemin for our date. ill see you around.” you finish what’s left on your plate, waving to jaehyun before leaving the restaurant.
jaehyun watches your back as you slowly disappear into the distance. “it cant be... can it?” jaehyun shakes his head and continues eating.
Tumblr media
“hey, babe. how was lunch with jaehyun?” jaemin wraps his arm around your waist as he leans down to peck your lips.
“it was good. let’s get ice cream.” you give off a wide smile and dragged jaemin to the famous ice cream shop that you were dying to try.
by the time you were halfway to finishing your ice cream, it was already 8pm. you’re weekly ice cream date with jaemin never fails to be extended as your chats with him grow longer and longer with every date.
as jaemin was talking, your mind goes back to the time you had that odd flashback. you wonder what it meant, or whats the significance of it. why did that suddenly happen to you? what can you do to make it go away? because for all you know, you have everything you need right here, in front of you. you had jaemin.
“eva? hello~?” jaemin waves his hand in front of you to snap you back into reality. you shake your head vigorously. “oh shit im sorry jaemin what did you say?” jaemin smiles softly as he repeats over what he say.
it was about 10pm and you decided it was finally time to go home. you would have taken the train alone but jaemin insisted on accompanying you home and going back by himself after. you and jaemin were walking down the street that will lead to your apartment when jaemin sudden opens his mouth to ask you something.
“did you ever believe about the soulmate thing?” you stop walking and turn your body to face jaemin. jaemin does the same, shoving his hands in his pockets.
you shrug your shoulder and placed your weight on one leg. “i used to, but i slowly started to think it was ridiculous and that i should be able to love who i want, not someone im destined to be with.” you reply, slowly reaching your hand out to run your hand through jaemin’s hair. he smiles at your touch and pulls you in with your other arm, hugging you gently.
“im glad to be the one that you love, despite the fact that im not who you’re destined to be with.” jaemin strokes your hair and digs his head into the crook of your neck. you rub his back slowly. “me too.” you kiss jaemin on the cheek and pull away, smiling softly. “come on, we’re almost at my apartment.” your hands trailed down to meet jaemin’s, interlocking your fingers with his and you both continued walking down the long street.
however, for the first time, it felt as though jaemin’s hand didn’t sit right with yours, like his hand didnt belong to fit in yours. you look down at the interlocking hands. you never felt this way before. why did it occur to you only now?
“something on your mind, eva?” you hear jaemin ask. you shot your gaze up from your jaemin’s hand to his eyes, shaking your head as you faked a smile.
weird
Tumblr media
a week has passed since that weird encounter of yours. you couldn’t get it out of your head. every hour of the day you’ll spare a few minutes thinking about it. why did you feel so connected to it? you felt eager to know about what i meant. why did a few seconds of experiencing a distant memory would be etched into your mind as you constantly replay what you saw that time?
you found it funny how you were already so deep in your thoughts early in the morning. you lay in bed looking through your social medias for awhile before getting out of bed to head to the living room.
you see jaehyun sitting on the couch, immensely concentrated on whatever’s on the television screen. you take a seat beside jaehyun, looking down, you see him munching on a bowl of popcorn.
“popcorn for breakfast. really?” you raise an eyebrow as jaehyun nods his head and offers the bowl. you take it regardless of your comment and stuffed popcorn in your mouth.
“you didn’t shower yet?” jaehyun asks. you only shrug in reply. jaehyun looks at you with a disguested look.
“i bet you didn’t shower either, now did you?” jaehyun kept quiet as his eyes widened yet still glued onto the screem. you observed his reaction and scoff, rolling your eyes. “idiot.” jaehyun glances at you and chukles, reaching out to take a handful of popcorn.
“what are you even watching?”
“a movie that i didn’t finish last night.” that explains the popcorn then.
you focus your mind on the movie, despite not knowing what it’s about. everything seemed normal until you see a couple suddenly come on screen. they’re apparently at a amusement park.
almost instantly, you lost sight of your surroundings. oh no.. it’s happening again. you shut your eyes tightly as your vision became blurry once again. you opened your eyes widely to find yourself at an amusement park. a flashback is now occuring, this time it was different.
the flashback. it wasnt a memory you’re unfamiliar with. its jaemin. you see jaemin come into view. it looked like you were taken back to your third date where jaemin brought you to an amusement park. you see him running in front of you happily. jaemin was about to turn around, and you remembered that exactly after that he smiled at you. but he doesn’t. you realise that its not even jaemin.
the one you’re seeing now is the guy from your previous flashback. the polaroid guy. he smiled the exact same way he did when he took the picture of you in the flashback. the guy reaches out to take your hand and you’re being pulled towards him. why does it feel like you’ve seen him somewhere? or maybe you haven’t, but feel like you would some time in the future.
“eva? god, evaline! wake up please!” you hear jaehyun’s voice.
“did it happened agai-“
“it happened again.”
you look around. everything was back to normal. you look at jaehyun. but his eyes were fixated on your foot, he looks shocked. you slowly tilt your head down to look at the number on your right foot. it changed. the number.. reshuffled themselves?
“you’re seeing that too right..?”
you nod your head slowly. its getting more weird. the number on your foot said that you’ll meet your “soulmate” on february 12th, 2020 at 7:06pm. but now, it changed itself to become december 6th, 2020 at 2:19am.
basically it went from 12.02.2020 19:06 to 06.12.2020 02:19
“did i space out again?” you look up at jaehyun as he nod slowly, still looking at your foot in shock. you couldn’t blame him. what happen? did it somehow extended the time you’re about to meet your soulmate? why did it happen? what does it mean?
you told jaehyun what happen. and he almost fainted. you let out a long sigh.
“im telling you its a sign. probably the guy you’re seeing is your soulmate.” jaehyun says lazily and he muched on some strawberry pocky.
“then why was jaemin in the flashback too? isnt it weird?” jaehyun nods his head quickly. he puts down the pack of pocky on his lap and blinks a couple of times. you see the gears turning in his head as you assume that he’s trying to come up with an explanation.
“maybe jaemin’s tied to the guy? like maybe jaemin knows him. or the dude’s from your past life and somehow jaemin is representing the guy in your present life.” jaehyun looks down to see his pocky was stolen from you. you nod your head and you continuously stuffed each stick into your mouth and eating them. “urgh i dont fucking know what to do about this!” you groan in frustration. suddenly, something hits you.
“wait. what’s today’s date?”
jaehyun lifts his phone up to check. “30th november. why?” jaehyun asks. “oh wait.”
“you’re telling me i have a full week until i meet my so called soulmate that i dont even know where ill meet him?!”
you scoff in disbelief. jaehyun doesnt respond, only staring at your face like he’s seen a ghost.
“can i somehow break someone’s neck and slam it on the wall for like i dont know, 5 hours?!”
no reply from jaehyun once again.
“oh for fuck’s sake i cant do this! im heading to johnny’s tea shop for my depression tea. meet me there if you want, i’ll probably be there the whole day as my head constantly spins.”
you quickly got up from the couch and get ready. jaehyun sees you coming out of your room with a hoodie and plain wide legged jeans. you only grab your phone and keys and waved jaehyun goodbye before leaving the apartment. jaehyun sighs.
“i might have set her temper circuit short.” jaehyun whispers to himself and sighs, getting off the couch as well to head over to johnny’s tea shop. “literally could have drove her there but oh well.”
Tumblr media
when you enter the shop, johnny face lit up with a huge smile. he runs over to hug you but his smile soon fades away and into a confused look when he sees how pissed you look.
“that’s very... interesting.” johnny comments. you sigh and nod, fiddling with the teaspoon in your drink. “yeah well its not going to be fun once jaemin knows.” johnny stops in his actions and looks up at you. your eyes glanced at johnny before tilting your head up from the drink that wrapped around your hands.
“yes i haven’t told jaemin. i didn’t think it meant anything at first but now...”
“you have to tell him! soon! its a sign!” johnny exclaims. you smacked your hand onto your forehead lightly. “i’ve heard that phrase countless of times by jaehyun and now you too? can you please explain?” you whine, scratching your head vigorously as you argrily take a sip of tea.
you were stressed, very stressed. life was going so well until this happened. you dont know who the mystery guy is. you dont know why he’s “memories” with you suddenly come back, especially when you’re in a really intimate relationship with jaemin. the same question keeps repeating in your head over and over each day and it gets more stressful when you try to think of an answer for them.
“no no listen. it happened to my relative. she was 3 months away from marrying her boyfriend who’s number doesnt match hers. and then she started getting weird flashbacks and she said that the number on her foot changed so that she wouldn’t miss a chance to meet her soulmate in the future instead of the past. and the so called memories? they’re memories that you’ll make with your soulmate once you meet them. the world is trying to make you realise that the guy in your flashbacks is your soulmate and not jaemin.”
you kept silent. so what jaehyun said was right. it was a sign to encourage you to find your real soulmate instead of settling for the one you arent meant to be with. you let out a sigh of relief as you finally know the background information to your whole situation.
“that’s a lot to take in.. how am i suppose to tell jaemin?” you frown as you look out the window. you love jaemin, very much. but to be honest, for the whole 2 years of your relationship with him, everything felt perfect, yet something was off. you never managed to pin point what, until now.
“oh i texted him just now when you were talking to me and he’s coming since he wants to see you.” great. you arent mentally prepared to tell jaemin yet and he’s going to arrive here in 15 minutes.
Tumblr media
“evaline! johnny texted me saying you were here and i immediately rushed over.” jaemin comes up from behind and kisses your cheek. you purse your lips into a thin line and you look to johnny leaving his seat. he nods his head, in a way to give you confidence to tell jaemin about the whole ordeal.
“jaemin.. i have to tell you something.” when jaemin takes the seat where johnny sat, you reach your hand out to grab his, slowly soothing your thumb over his skin. “mhm yeah what?” you look up from his hand to his face.
“ive been getting um.. signs lately. flashbacks. jaehyun told me that the guy, who’s always the main subject of my flashbacks could be my soulmate. and i might be meeting him soon, on 6th december.” you whisper to him, biting your lip.
jaemin swallows his own saliva, blinking at you a few times as he tries to process what you said. he lets out a long sigh and painfully puts on a soft smile.
“i knew it was going to happen to one of us sooner. ive heard about the flashbacks. its bound to happen sooner or later.” you nod your head in response.
“im sorry, jaemin. i love you very much-“
“its fine. i understand. im glad the world made you realise that you’re soulmate is still wondering around somewhere, and that it isnt me. im happy i got to spend 2 years loving you.. it made me feel good.” you interlocked your fingers with his, smiling softly before letting go.
you could tell jaemin was hurt. like a knife was stabbed into his heart. you see it behind his smile, his eyes. you knew him all too well.
“we’ll still be friends. and i hope you’re soulmate will come to you.”
jaemin only nods. you lean in and give one last passionate kiss on the cheek before hearing the bell above the door ringing, and noticing that jaehyun has arrived.
Tumblr media
december 3rd, 2020. you’re three days away to meeting your soulmate. where? you werent sure.
“good morning, evaline.” you hear jaehyun say. you just got out of bed and you were walking to the kitchen when you see what jaehyun was doing. he’s reading a book. your vision went blank.
its another flashback. you start to mentally prepare yourself as yoh want to absorb as much information as possible on your soulmate in the small portion of the memories.
“the book’s is interesting.” you’re hearing your soulmates voice. you try to figure out if you’ve heard it or not, but shake it out of your head when yoh remember your goal of gathering information. you registered the tone of his voice.
he’s sitting on a bed with round gold glasses on, in his pajamas.
your soulmate laughs. the same way he did the first time. he turns the book to you and it showed his phone betweem the pages of the book, resting there. “just joking!” you hear him say. you take a look at the wallpaper of your soulmate’s lockscreen. it was a picture of him kissing your cheek. it looked oddly the same as the picture you and jaemin once took together. however, there was a text above the picture. evaline heather and lee jeno
lee jeno. that’s the name of your soulmate.
Tumblr media
december 5th, 2020. you’re starting to mentally prepare yourself. you dont know where you’re about to meet him. you tried coming up with all possibilities. to be frank, you were more excited about whether the places you thought of might be the place you meet your soulmate rather than being nervous.
the three flashbacks you had. it felt all too familiar. like you’ve known this lee jeno person forever. you feel the connection each time.
when the clock strikes 12am, your mind unknowingly decides to go to the park. the park where you and jaemin first met. you dont know why. it felt like your body was urging you to go there. you lazily got ready and headed out the door, of course you told jaehyun about your outing before leaving the apartment.
you had your hands shoved into your pockets with your hoodie on as you yawned. you breathed in the night air, admiring it dearly. when you reached the park, a quick glance at your phone told you that its 2am. you sigh and took a seat on the bench mindlessly after walking around the park.
you sat there for a few minutes, looking up into the sky and staring off into the distance. suddenly, you felt a presence next to you. you turn your head over to see a guy.
“you seemed pretty lonely so i brought ice cream-“
that voice.
“what’s your name?” you interrupt
the guy pauses and smiles. his face, his smile. its just like the one in your flashback.
“lee jeno. you?”
you didn’t reply. its him. he’s your soulmate, he’s here.
“why does it feel like ive known you for a very long time..?” you slowly started to ask as your eyes looked at him up and down.
jeno chuckles. “maybe..” you see jeno taking off his slipper on his right foot and lifting up his foot. you see the exact number that’s engraved on your foot.
“im your soulmate.”
139 notes · View notes
elena-reina · 4 years
Text
First Love - Harry Potter x Reader
Request: Hiya! I love your writing & just spent the last few hours binge-reading your Draco imagines. Could you write a Harry Potter imagine with a post-war Harry who becomes a DADA Professor & the reader is the new Potions Professor. The backstory could be the reader tagged along with Harry somewhere dangerous with him. They were dating but he broke up with her to keep her safe in later years. They haven't spoken since he broke up with her but haven't moved on. Thank you so much! - Anon
Warnings: none
Part 2
Tumblr media
"I think I want to stay back," said a student named Zamira in your Potions class, "I do miss my parents back home, but I really want to spend a Christmas here with you guys."
“That would be perfect! We could visit Hogsmeade and have sleepovers in each others room,” her friend sighed happily.
You looked over at Zamira and gave a small smile. Walking by her table with your hands behind your back, she noticed your presence and shyly went back to working on her potion.
“Well I think it would be best if you were to quickly speak to Professor McGonagall if you’d like to stay here for Christmas, sweetie.”
“You don’t think it’s too late?” she asked, lifting her gaze.
Professor McGonagall had come around the week before, making a list of students who would be staying for the holidays so she could have a headcount. There was still a few days left before the students left for Christmas.
“No, of course not. Class is about to be over in a few minutes. Put your potion on the shelf and you can get a headstart to the Grand Hall.”
Her eyes lit up and she stood up eagerly.
“Thank you, Professor Y/L/N! You’re the best,” she smiled, and rushed to do as you said.
After class, you slowly made your way to the Grand Hall. You stood at the table with the other Professors as Professor McGonagall gave her usual speech to the students about the holidays. You conversed in light conversation with the others, until you stopped mid sentence.
There stood a person you don’t recall seeing before. You no longer could focus on the person talking to you. Harry Potter locked eyes with yours and softened. A wave of emotions hit you all at once.
Harry's feet touched the road. He saw the achingly familiar Hogsmeade High Street: dark shop fronts, and the mist line of black mountains beyond the village and the curve in the road ahead that led off toward Hogwarts, and light spilling from the windows of the Three Broomsticks. He remembered with piercing accuracy, how he had landed here nearly a year before, you comfortingly held onto his arm keeping your hood over your head as you and Harry walked together.
The air was rent by a scream that sounded like Voldemort's when he had realized the cup had been stolen: It tore at every nerve in Harry's body, and he knew that your guys’ appearance had caused it.
“Put up your hood,” you instructed lowly, avoiding contact with anyone around. He bowed his head, putting on his hood.
The air through which you needed to move, seemed to have become solid as the harsh winds slapped you everywhere it could. You could not Disapparate; the Death Eaters at the moment had casted their charms well. 
The cold was biting deeper and deeper into you, making you snuggle closer to Harry. He protectively held you in his chest, giving your temple a light, reassuring kiss. He knew you were nervous. You didn’t want anything to happen to him, but you would rather be there fighting alongside him instead of waiting back at Hogwarts to see if he would return home or not. 
The two of you retreated down the side street, groping your way along the wall trying not to make a sound. Then, around the corner, gliding noiselessly, came dementors, ten or more of them, visible because they were of a denser darkness than their surroundings, with their black cloaks and their scabbed and rotting hands. 
Could they sense fear in the vicinity? 
Absolutely. They seemed to be coming quickly now, taking those dragging, rattling breaths you detested, tasting despair in the air, closing in. You shakily reached for your wand, but Harry beat you to it. 
He raised his wand: He could not, would not suffer the Dementor's Kiss, whatever happened afterward. It was of you that he thought as he whispered "Expecto Patronum!"
The silver stag burst from his wand and charged: The Dementors scattered and there was a triumphant yell from somewhere out of sight
"It's him, down there, down there, I saw his Patronus, it was a stag!"
The Dementors have retreated, the stars were popping out again and the footsteps of the Death Eaters were becoming louder.
“Harry, we have to go!” you whisper-yelled.
But before Harry in his panic could decide what to do, there was a grinding of bolts nearby, a door opened on the left-side of the narrow street, and a rough voice said: "Potter, Y/L/N, in here, quick!"
He obeyed without hesitation pulling you along, hurrying through the open doorway.
"Upstairs, keep the Cloak on, keep quiet!" muttered a tall figure, passing them on his way into the street and slammed the door behind him.
“Harry,” you whispered.
“Hush, Y/L/N,” he silenced.
Harry had had no idea where the two of you were, but now he saw, by the stuttering light of a single candle, the grubby, sawdust bar of the Hog's Head Inn. You ran behind the counter and through a second doorway, which led to a trickery wooden staircase, that you climbed as fast as you two could. The stairs opened into a sitting room with a durable carpet and a small fireplace, above which hung a single large oil painting of a blonde girl who gazed out at the room with a kind of a vacant sweetness.
“You two can stay here,” the man muttered, “I’m a friend of your mothers’ Potter. You’re safe until dawn.” He then left the two of you
Letting out a breath of relief, you turned to face Harry who was still shaken up. but he was trying his best to hide it. 
“Y/N, I just put your life in danger,” he breathed. Frowning, you rubbed his arm.
“It’s okay, we’re in this together until the end, remember.”
He scratched the back of his head. You grabbed his face with your hands, pressing your lips to his. He lightly kissed you back. You immediately knew somethign was off.
“I’m fine with me getting hurt, but I don’t know what I’d do if you got hurt. I can’t keep putting your life on the line when this is my battle to fight,” he said. You took a step back.
“Why’re you talking like this, Harry. What’re you trying to say,” you scoffed. You didn’t know how to react.
“I’m saying that.. we need to break up-”
“No. Harry, no. You are not doing this right now,” you cut him off. You crossed your arms over your chest as you felt your eyes stinging. You were not going to cry; this would only make matters worse.
“We have to. You’re not safe with me-”
“And Ron and Hermione are when they’re with you?!” you exclaimed, devastated. “They’re no different than I other than we have a romantic relationship.”
“That’s different and you know it Y/N. I’ve known them longer.”
He immediately regretted saying that after it left his mouth. You jaw dropped and shook your head, letting out an unbelieveable scoff through your nose. He had really just said that.
“Wow, I didn’t know that I meant nothing to you this whole time.”
“That’s not what I meant to say-”
You put your hand in his face. Your eyes traveled to the painting of the girl over the mantelpiece. It was, now as you looked around properly, the only picture in the room. “Well you did.”
Harry felt overwhelmed; he could not explain it. “I’m just trying to do what is best you. You know I love you with all my heart, but I can’t allow you to get hurt because of me.”
You kept quiet. He did not want to express the doubts and uncertainties about letting you go because that was the last thing he wanted to do. He had no desire to doubt himself again; he did not want to hear anything that would deflect him from his purpose. 
You met his gaze, his bright green eyes held so much pain behind them. All you did was nodded and apparated out of the room, returning to what was left of Hagrid’s cottage at the time.
Ever since your breakup, the two of you never spoke again. You still saw him frequently, however you were good at cutting people out of your life and he unfortunately had became one of them. It hurt him just to see you or hear someone talking about you. The both of you tried to hide your pain from each other but it was obvious to everyone else except the two of you. 
Eventually, you had gone through the war without seeing Harry and since then you erased him from your memory. But one little trigger could have brought it back- such as this moment.
Harry walked and sat down right next to you. He pulled you in for a hug and you returned the gesture. Breathing in each others scents, both of you didn’t want to let go.
It had been years, but you couldn’t help but still feel a bit of resentment
“I didn’t know you worked here,” he said smiling. 
Pushing a piece of your hair behind your ear, you let out a small laugh. A laugh he longed to hear since the moment you two had split.
“Yeah, I teach potions here. How about you? You wanted to come back to Hogwarts after everything?”
He nodded, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “Yeah, I’m the Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor now.”
You raised your eyebrows in surprise. “Wow, isn’t that a cursed position,” you chuckled.
He smiled, shaking his head. “Yeah, it’s something like that. I’m hoping to break that curse starting with me and the future to come.”
You nodded, returning your gaze back to the students. You didn’t know how you felt talking to him again. Your mind was going in different directions.
He cleared his throat catching your attention again.
“Y/N. I know this is long overdue but, I wanted to apologize for that night,” he began.
You remained emotionless. You didn’t want him to know how affected you had been.
“I know there were still unspoken things between us that we wanted to say-”
“I didn’t have anything to say to you Harry. I respected your decision,” you shook off, waving your hand. You held onto your own arms, staring at your plate in front of you. 
Were there still feelings? Yes. 
“I just don’t want any hard feelings between us,” he frowned, “I could never let anything happen to you.”
“I know, I understand why you did what you did,” you said.
“I have to admit that I couldn’t help but feel as though you hated me whenever I saw you through the halls when we were students,” he said forcing out a laugh. At this point, he was trying to make conversation with you because he didn’t want to say goodbye again.
No one knew how you two didn’t see each other throughout the entire school year. You just kept yourself so preoccupied that you never paid attention to who was here at the school.
“I don’t hate you. You are... were my first love,” you admitted, biting the inside of your cheek. 
This time Harry got quiet.
Without realization, time had passed by quicker than you expected. McGonagall clacked her glass with her spoon catching the attention of everyone. She instructed that dinner was over and for everyone to return to their rooms. You immediately stood up. Turning to Harry, you pulled him in for one more hug.
“It was nice seeing you, Harry. I’ll see you around, okay?” you weakly smiled.
“Right,” he said lowly. He hugged you back, returning the gesture with more strength. He didn’t want to let go. Hesitantly pulling away, you bowed your head and made your way outside the Grand Hall.
273 notes · View notes
booksonablog · 3 years
Text
Self-Defense - Johnny Lawrence Imagine Part 1
Summary: Johnny finds out you know a little bit of self-defense, but learns you don’t know enough as you should when trouble ensues when he’s not around.
Author’s Note: I’m in the middle of writing part 2 so stay tuned and enjoy this first part! (Also I tried very hard to create my own gifs and only one managed to work for some reason so bare with me)
It was nine-fifteen in the evening, you were counting the minutes till you could clock out. It’s not that you hated your job, but it surely wasn’t the job of your dreams. It was something to pay the bills while you worked on your career. It was a trendy hipster bar and restaurant, so it wasn’t the worst. The other employees weren’t too bad, really the worst part of the job was the sleazy men that drowned themselves in liquor and harassed the customers and workers. Your manager had his fair share of jerks he had to kick out, but the past couple months remained enjoyable.
You handed the drink menus to your last table, two young men on a guys night out. You headed back to the bar when you caught eyes with a handsome blonde walking through the doors. He nodded to the hostess, pointing at your direction with a grin on his face. You blushed, making your way behind the bar. He claimed a seat directly in front of you.
He smirked, “Hi beautiful.”
“Hello handsome.” You leaned on the bar.
“I know you get out at nine-thirty but I couldn’t wait to see you.” He winked.
You blushed, flashing him a flirty grin. From the corner of your eye, you caught the men at your table staring at you. You held up your index finger at Johnny.
“One sec.”
He nodded, not-so casually checking you out as you made your way to the table. He returned his attention to the bar, signaling the bartender.
“Sorry about that, what can I get ya?”
“I’m not sure-” One of the men hesitated, the drink menu still in his hand.
“Well, if you’re looking for something strong, I recommend the ‘Shift Drink.’ It’s mixed with a little rye whiskey and ginger syrup, it’s a classic cocktail. But if you’re looking for something sweeter, I’d recommend ‘The Blood and Sand.’ It’s mixed with both orange juice and sweet vermouth. Or the ‘Peach Blood and Sand,’ replacing the orange juice with peach flavoring. Do you like peach?”
“Well -” the man started, completely ignoring your spiel.
“I do.” His friend added, his hand grazing your butt in admiration. You jumped at the touch, though you weren’t the only one. Johnny had turned right at the moment the man put his hand on you, causing him to jump out of his seat, making a beeline towards the table. Meanwhile, you had instinctively grabbed the man by his wrist, pulling it up and towards his back, slamming his head on the table. The commotion shook the restaurant, everyone now staring. Johnny had stopped in his tracks at the scene.
You bent down to the man’s ear. “If you ever lay a hand on me again I’ll break your fucking arm.” You whispered with gritted teeth. Your manager tapped your shoulder, you whipped your head, still in fight mode. He gave you the signal to take off a few minutes early. You released the man’s arm, turning back towards the bar. Johnny gently reached for your arm as you passed him. You looked up, completely oblivious to how close he was to the scene.
“You okay?”
You nodded. “Just gonna get my jacket.” He nodded back, walking towards the bar as you made your way to the backroom.
He reached for his wallet, paying for his drink and tipping the bartender while he waited. You were slipping your arms in your jacket as you made your way over to Johnny. He shoved his wallet in his back pocket, you slipped your arm between his. He peered down at you with a small smile before the two of you exited the restaurant.
***
Throughout the car ride and on the way to your door, the two of you had joked about the situation at the restaurant.
“Who would’ve thought that the sweetest angel in the world could break a man’s arm.” The two of you laughed, arriving at the front of your door. You turned to face him.
“But seriously babe, where did that come from?” He grinned with intrigue.
You shrugged. “YouTube I guess. Ever since I got this job, I thought it would be crucial to learn self-defense, even if it’s just a move or two.”
Well,” He started with a teasing smirk plastered on his face,  “I wouldn’t wanna fight you, you’re pretty feisty.”
You blushed with a laugh, pushing him playfully before pulling him into a kiss.
***
- Several Weeks Later -
“Have a good night!” You hollered to the clerk, the door closing behind you with a ring. You had made a quick run to the mini-mart for some milk, it was only a few blocks away from your apartment so you chose to walk rather than waste gas. It was late, pushing nine o’clock. You quickly realized it may not have been the best idea to walk alone at night, especially in such a dimly lit area. You pulled your phone out of your purse to call Johnny, his voice alone made you feel at ease.
Back at the dojo, Johnny was wrapping up with his students.
Tumblr media
“Fight!”
Before Mitch could take a second step, Hawk had kicked him halfway off the mat. In the backroom, Johnny's phone vibrated on his desk, the screen illuminating your name.
You sighed, pulling the phone away from your face. The sound of footsteps echoed behind you. You listened closely, your eyes wide. The sound matched yours, same pace, same route, with the exception of the weight the sound carried. You redialed Johnny’s number.
“Alright now I don’t wanna hear any bitchin’ or moanin’ about feeling sore in the morning. You’re here to work hard and be badass.” His phone continued to be ignored as he wrapped up his session.
You held the phone to your face, hoping it would appear as if someone was on the other line. You dared to turn your head only to find no one behind you. You slowly turned your head, eyes wandering over the environment behind you. You turned - smack - you collided with the chest of a tall man towering over you. You quickly backstepped. Two heavy hands wrapped around your arms from behind you. You jumped with a shriek, the screen of your phone cracked as it hit the ground, the carton of milk exploded over the concrete. The man in front of you grinned before taking his steps towards you.
Miguel was the last to leave the dojo, like most nights. Johnny made his way to the backroom, closing the door behind him as he changed out of his clothes. He placed his belongings in his bag, grabbing his phone. The device illuminated, exposing two missed calls from you. He dialed your number, pressing his shoulder to his ear as he gathered his bag and locked the back room. He walked across the dojo, your voicemail playing in his ear. Beep
“Hey babe, sorry I missed your call, was wrapping up with the kids. I’m on my way out, I’ll swing by your place -” He shut the lights to the dojo off, locking the door behind him. “I’ll see you soon.” He hung up, opening the door to his Challenger.
***
Johnny had knocked on your door for the second time.
“Babe?” Silence. He sighed, shifting his focus to the outside hallway. He dialed your number again.
Nothing. He pulled his phone down and stared at it. It was past ten, he knew you didn’t work late.
He walked down the steps, starting to feel the heat rise in his chest as he grew to wonder where you were. He figured you’d probably call him by the time he reached his place.
***
Tumblr media
He stared at his phone on the kitchen counter. He took another swig of beer and nearly choked at the rapid knocking on his door. He sped to the door and opened it to see one of the most heartbreaking sights he’s encountered. There you were, trembling at his door. Tears had stained your scratched cheeks, a dark bruise covered your right cheekbone, blood peaked behind your hair from the corner of your head. Your lip, cut, quivered in humiliation and terror. Johnny pulled you in his apartment, as if the action would protect you from further pain.
He turned to you, his throat drying up. He swallowed, “Who did this to you?” He asked in a low but stern voice.
“Johnny-” You choked.
“Babe - please, just tell me who and where the hell they are right now.” He demanded, anger rising. He didn’t bother to ask if you were okay as you clearly weren’t, he thought the quicker he learns about what happened, the faster he’ll get to catching these guys.
“I-I don’t know, I was walking -”
“Where??”
“The Mini-Mart-”
“You were walking to the Mini-Mart?!”
“I needed milk.” You said sheepishly, your voice started to crack.
“Why didn’t you just tell me!?”
“I didn’t want to bother you - you were working!” You shouted back, tears starting to form.
“And look what happened!!”
“Johnny please-” You started to cry, your hand covering your mouth.
His heart shattered. Realizing he was making everything worse he pulled you into his chest.
“I’m sorry.” He rubbed your back. Having you cry into his chest made his eyes start to water.
***
Once the tears had settled, Johnny had led you to his bathroom where he helped clean you up. He had you lean on the counter as he dabbed the blood off your face with a washcloth. You sniffled, hiccups still lingering. You watched as he focused on rinsing the cloth. He bent down to you again, moving his hand to the back of your neck, pulling you closer to him so he could plant a kiss to your forehead. He looked you in the eyes as if to ask how you were doing. You nodded, unable to muster a sympathetic smile. He showed his instead and kissed you gently on the lips. He left to his room, returning with his Zebra shirt, your favorite. You accepted the offer and sat up as he removed himself from the bathroom.
You were folding your clothes, crossing over to his bedroom when you caught him by the front door, putting on his black leather jacket.
“Where are you going?” Concern in your voice.
He walked over to you, sympathy written over his face. He gently wrapped his calloused hand over your soft ones.
“I’ll be right back, okay?” The two of you knew what he was planning to do after you were calm enough to describe the men and everything that happened.
“Johnny-” You shook your head with worry.
“Babe-”
“No!” You squeezed his hand, tugging them towards you.
His face fell, watching your emotions untangle once more.
“Please Johnny-” You shook your head, voice breaking as tears started to fall. “Don’t leave me.” You hiccuped.
To hear the sincerity and fear in your voice was all it took to convince him to stay.
He looked down, partially ashamed. He nodded, looking back at you. He stepped forward and gently swiped his thumb over your cheek.
“I’m not gonna leave you.”
***
You were sound asleep in Johnny’s bed resting your head on his chest. He, on the other hand, was wide awake. He caressed your hair and continued to stare at the ceiling. He was trying not to grow too angry as he thought about what you had told him. The thought of someone violently harassing you and to learn it was two men, boiled his blood. He wanted so badly to slip out of the apartment, find the men responsible and kick their ass. But he couldn’t betray your trust, he told you he would stay, so he will.
Hope you enjoyed this part, stay tuned for part 2! 💕
133 notes · View notes
actualbird · 4 years
Text
nobody asked but here i analysed polygon’s “unraveled” and bon appetit test kitchen’s “gourmet makes” and i think they are similar and use three key story elements to their success | a 1.9k word long analysis by an unhinged creative writing fresh grad trying desperately to use their degree to connect two dots
Tumblr media
If you asked me who my favorite internet celebrities are, I would not hesitate for a second to answer. Brian David Gilbert from Polygon and Claire Saffitz from Bon Appetit Test Kitchen. They’re awesome! They both host popular YouTube webshows about video games and cooking respectively, two things I am terrible at and don’t do very often. And yet I am enraptured by every episode of their shows. Why? How?
My thesis is this: Polygon’s “Unraveled” and Bon Appetit Test Kitchen’s “Gourmet Makes”, while wildly different shows on many levels, are extremely similar in how they use three key story elements very, very, well.
These three story elements are 1) Plot, 2) Character, and 3) FAWWIEOT (it’s an acronym, I’ll explain it later, I promise)
Let me start with the first and most basic story element these two shows wield amazingly: Plot.
Plot is, in simplest terms, what “happens” in a thing. This is what you’ll find on a movie’s Wikipedia page summary, the details of what went down, the events that took place, the things that occurred. There are many different types of plots because there are many different types of stories, but one of the most basic kinds of plots is very clearly illustrated by something called Freytag’s Pyramid.
Tumblr media
Freytag’s Pyramid is a very simple plot that is moved forward by a non-negotiable in many, many stories: conflict. All is well, the line is straight, then a challenge arises and things start to escalate. At the climax, a decision or a group of decisions are made that leads to a de-escalation of the conflict, bringing things down until we are back at a flat line and the conflict has been resolved.
Every single episode of Gourmet Makes can be plotted onto Freytag’s Pyramid
Tumblr media
Nearly every single episode of Unraveled can be plotted onto Freytag’s Pyramid too (with the exception of some, like a number of the categorization episodes, the Kojima name generator)
Tumblr media
I know what you’re thinking. “So what if Gourmet Makes and Unraveled fit on some funky pyramid? What does that mean?” Well, dear reader, it reveals to us just one of three reasons why these shows are so enjoyable.
Freytag’s Pyramid is basic as shit, and yet it is one of the first plot structures taught to fictionists because people, up to this day, like it. Why? Because Freytag’s Pyramid fulfills two very important desires that we, as humans, love. 1) The desire for there to be a problem and 2) the desire for that problem to be resolved. It scratches our eternal itch to want to watch shit go down but doesn’t leave us up on a cliffhanger, it gives us our catharsis.
Gourmet Makes gives you the entertainment of watching Claire struggle with her task. Then Gourmet Makes shows you Claire slowly and surely rising above the challenge (notable in literally every episode of Gourmet Makes). Unraveled makes you watch BDG work himself up into a frenzy trying to do something stupid, but then Unraveled shows the payoff of...of watching BDG do something stupid, but this time towards some kind of resolution (very notable in the latest Unraveled “How to increase your stamina with terrible video game tactics”).
It is clear to me that Gourmet Makes and Unraveled both use plot in a way that gives viewers satisfaction. But what keeps them coming back for more?
Well that leads us to the second story element: Character.
People love Claire Saffitz and BDG.
Don’t believe me? Look through the tags of literally any gifset of either of them. Here, I did it for you. Here’s some tags for Claire:
Tumblr media
And here’s some tags for BDG:
Tumblr media
It’s pretty obvious to see that these two are well loved, but why? It’s not just because they’re both good looking, it’s because Claire Saffitz and BDG, with how they are presented in their shows, are good characters.
Claire Saffitz in Gourmet Makes isn’t scripted. She brings her own human frustration, determined hard work, and joyous glee to the show and it makes watching the show all the more enjoyable. BDG in Unraveled, however, is scripted, but he brings to the table his chaotic performance and ‘off the shits’ lecturer energy that brings the viewers in. Regardless of their differences, Gourmet Makes and Unraveled are similar when it comes to character because of one thing: they actually have characters.
What am I talking about? Well, for a period of time on the internet, people in the cooking media sphere and the video game media sphere settled for video content that was divorced from who was presenting the information. Videos like the ones from Tasty where everything was filmed top down and you only saw two hands perfectly putting ingredients into a bowl. Videos like the myriad of video game walkthroughs or video essays that are presented only by a disembodied voice who also seems allergic to actually having fun. This is content that hinges on the fact that people like seeing cooking or video games and that the presenter will mostly just be a background thing.
Bon Appetit Test Kitchen and Polygon both did not want to succumb to this style of presenting information. They both made the decision to bring their presenters into their video content, highlighting their respective presenters’ personalities, quirks, and styles. This is evident in all of Bon Appetit Test Kitchen and Polygon’s video content, not just Gourmet Makes and Unraveled. Do I watch Bon Appetit's show It's Alive because I want to actually make foccacia? No, it's because I love how Brad Leone  mispronounces words and makes me laugh. Did I watch "Fixing Anthem’s boring mech’s with ballsy design" because I actually give a shit about video games? No it's because I love how Pat Gill jokes about fake testicles and also I think he's hot.
The fact that there are actually characters for us on screen to see, makes Gourmet Makes and Unraveled good shit. We’ve got a plot with clear conflict, but that means nothing if there are no personas for us to root for. Gourmet Makes and Unraveled gives us these personas. They give us Claire Saffitz whom we want so desperately to see smile and succeed. They give us Brian David Gilbert whom we want so desperately to see go a little bit crazy. They give us people to connect to, and that often bridges the gap to viewers who honestly don’t give a shit about cooking or video games. Viewers like me who just keep coming back to Gourmet Makes and Unraveled because of the fact that these are characters I care about, these are characters who I want to see smile after finally nailing the recipe or slowly take off their suit as they tell me shit about Zelda I don’t understand.
Gourmet Makes and Unraveled utilize plot in a way that makes these webshows satisfying, and they use character in a way that makes these webshows accessible and keeps people invested.
But they go further.
This brings us to our last story element, not exactly a common or rudimentary one, but an important one nonetheless: Fucking Around With What Is Expected Of Them.
(I know there’s probably a legitimate literary term for this, but sue me, quarantine has kept me stuck in my house since March, so I may have forgotten the exact words I learned in class. FAWWIEOT will have to suffice.)
The gist of FAWWIEOT is that stories have been around for fuckin ever, and because of that, there are clear patterns and tropes that stories follow. FAWWIEOT is the recognition of those patterns and tropes, using them, but finding a different outcome or flair to make themselves special, to make themselves stick out. Kinda like when you’ve got a fic on AO3 tagged with ‘friends to lovers’ but also tagged with like, I dunno, something completely random like ‘character is also a dragon’. Use the tropes, but do something different. Give the audience something they already know, then throw in something new to make them remember your content specifically.
Gourmet Makes and Unraveled FAWWIEOT (I’m using the acronym like a verb now, this is my post, I’m allowed to) very purposefully using an important technique: Flaws.
The standard trope of a cooking show is the chef easily talking to the camera as they perfectly put the ingredients together. All the food comes out perfect on the first try and everything is heavenly and wonderful. Classic cooking shows like Barefoot Contessa (hosted by Ina Garten) and Everyday Italian (hosted by Giada de Laurentiis) followed this pattern, and it made for good television.
But who fucking watches television these days? Everything is online now, and the internet is vicious. If you aren’t interesting, the internet will throw you out to the gutter. So how did Gourmet Makes set themselves apart?
By showing you that things aren’t perfect after all. Gourmet Makes shows you every trial that Claire tries, they show you her successes, but also her failures. They show you when she gets tired and hopeless, they show you when she bounces back and tries again. Gourmet Makes made a cooking show that was flawed, and people loved it.
And what about Unraveled? The design of Unraveled, from BDG’s suit and mug to his presenting style, key us in to the fact that we are watching some sort of lecture. Some kind of educational performance. Personally, this makes me think that Unraveled is FAWWIEOT-ing academia and basically any other media where an “expert” talks at you.
The standard pattern of experts talking to you are basically like TedTalks. You have somebody very well versed in the topic trying to explain to you something, showing you their hypothesis, their process, and their findings.
Unraveled FAWWIEOTs expertise by making BDG research the most crazy shit like OSHA regulations or the Geneva Convention, make the wildest hypotheses like ‘Monster Energy in the morning will be a good idea’ or ‘Sonic is blasphemous’, and then, ultimately, completely unravel himself. The expert in Unraveled isn’t an all knowing being who is always right, he is flawed (and loses his marbles, more often than not.) And we love it.
FAWWIEOT-ing is key because of how it gives us a pattern we know, and then does something new. Novelty is important on the internet, and Gourmet Makes and Unraveled have made a name for themselves on the unique way they Fucked Around With What Was Expected Of Them.
Gourmet Makes and Unraveled are two of my favorite webshows on the internet as of now, and there are many reasons why, many reasons I didn’t include in this post. What I wanted to do here is to highlight how these shows use story elements to be good content because at the core of these videos, even if they aren’t literary fiction, they are good stories. Good stories with a plot that satisfies us, with characters we can see and love, with new twists that keep us on the edge of our seats.
Good stories make for good content, and Bon Appetit Test Kitchen and Polygon have me as a subscriber for as long as they continue on this road.
Thanks for reading!
(Read my other Polygon-adjacent analysis essays at actualbird.tumblr.com/tagged/nobody-asked-but
If you have any suggestions or ideas for more Polygon-adjacent analysis essays I can write, send me an ask!)
271 notes · View notes
i-did-not-mean-to · 3 years
Text
School AU - Chapter 2
So, just to be thoroughly done with this experiment, here's Bilbo's POV of the same scene.
There it is :D It was worth a celebratory little story...:)
Love you all <3
“Go to school”, they said, “It will be fun”, they said.
Bilbo rolled his eyes at his own naïveté. Of course, it would not be fun to change schools in the middle of the year.
The headmaster, a fearsome old man with a face like a death mask, waved him out of the office before he could even protest; they had decided to put him into a class with all the other “maladjusted” kids.
He was not maladjusted; he was merely new in this school.
“You will be fine.” The gentle old man, his headteacher as far as he had understood, promised him and the mere fact that this was the kind of thing he needed to be told, did nothing to ease his nervousness.
“They got a new teacher already today and now you, really, what an exciting day for the class.” The man went prattling on and on. Bilbo had no interest in being a novelty and he felt increasingly like he was a sacrifice or chum about to be thrown into the cold water, figuratively, physical education was not on the program for a few days at least.
Small mercies.
The headteacher rapped his knuckles against a closed door and then just shoved his head in without waiting for the teacher to accept his brusque announcement. He informed her, quite casually Bilbo found, of the fact that there was a new student and shoved him into the classroom before just leaving.
Bilbo looked at the woman in front of him; her eyes were dreamy as if she had been torn from a particularly pleasant reverie and her mouth curved into a warm smile almost immediately.
She made an off-hand comment about how all the students were new to her and Bilbo felt less alone instantaneously; he had been afraid to find himself confronted with a hermetic group of people who had all grown up together and who had no interest in getting to know a pudgy youngster who talked too much.
The headteacher had called her “Kira” and Bilbo had already noticed that they went by their first names here, so he greeted her as politely as he could and enquired if he had not missed too much of her class.
It would be hard enough to stitch together what he had seen in his last school and what was expected here, he didn’t want to start by lagging behind right away.
“I’ll fill you in.” A voice called out and he flinched. Again, Miss Kira’s presence was a comfort and a rock, for she twitched as well, but probably not for the same reasons. Except if she was a pervert; she didn’t look like one.
Turning his head ever so slowly, Bilbo searched for the face that went with the most beautiful voice he had ever heard: deep and slightly gruff, it had rippled down Bilbo’s spine like a current of silk and pure electricity.
Please, let him be ugly as sin, please, he begged his guiding stars. He did not want another debacle, not on the first day of school, not in a new environment.
Of course, that had been too much to ask and the face belonging to the voice turned out to be just as charming. Figures!
Bilbo had thought of himself as a rather lucky kid for the longest time, until he realised that it was voices and faces like the one just a mere stone’s throw away from him that set his insides on fire.
Another boy was sitting next to “the voice” and he was now ousted with a hearty shove while Bilbo tried to shuffle those feet he hadn’t quite grown into yet along the narrow empty space between the benches. It would just serve him right if he landed straight on his face in front of that…being.
He looked much more like a man already than a boy, a fact the parts of Bilbo he had definitely grown into already noticed with vivid interest. Feeling the treacherous heat crawl up his neck and into his face, Bilbo approached the bench, getting his feet tangled in his rucksack as he sat down on the now empty chair.
The chair was disgustingly warm, but he didn’t mind; he couldn’t even tell with certainty that his own body was not on fire in this very second and he was the one making the scratched plastic melt.
Oh Lord, his own ass was the last thing he wanted to think about now when that face was so close to him that he could smell the fresh, slightly zesty smell of the dark hair surrounding it. Good, he had been mocked mercilessly in his old school for the way he wore his own hair, but it was really nothing compared to those luscious, dark waves…
BILBO! He called himself to order. His polite instincts kicked in and he rearranged his slack jaw into what he hoped would be a pleasant smile.
The boy frowned at him, a mask of guarded suspicion, and Bilbo’s heart immediately mellowed. Here was someone who had known hardship, he knew instinctively, and it made him redouble the brightness of his smile. Had he ever seen eyes that blue? They were hard and glistening like shards of ice, but Bilbo felt that they might warm up to summer lakes in time.
Not on your first day of school, he tried to remind himself, but it was already too late; his mouth had run dry, and his stomach twitched with that all too familiar twinge of admiration. He was a boy who knew simple pleasures: a sunny meadow, a good meal…and a face like that.
Clearing his throat, the other boy shoved over a piece of paper, filled with chicken scratch writing. As soon as he pried his watering eyes off the boy’s face though to glance at it, he retracted it again, slamming a solid forearm down on the page. “Might have some spelling mistakes.” The boy mumbled. Ah, the idiot class, Bilbo remembered, more interested than ever.
“My name is Bilbo.” He spoke gently, putting one finger on the edge of the page and trying to pull it loose from under the massive bulk of the other one’s arm. “Thorin.” He rumbled, sighing a little. “Really.”
“Yes, why wouldn’t it be your name?” Bilbo chuckled. “Mistress Kira didn’t believe me.” He explained in a low voice, finally letting go of the sheet and allowing Bilbo to read through the notes.
There were indeed one or two hasty mistakes, but Bilbo was astonished to find that Thorin seemed to have chronicled the class faithfully. “If you don’t…if…” He stammered and Bilbo looked up, thankful for the quality of the notes because he knew that he was not processing any of the explanations Thorin was providing in that low voice.
He sounded like rough skin on silk sheets, Bilbo thought, another painfully inappropriate thought.
“Hmmm, thank you, Thorin. These are some good notes.” Bilbo mumbled hazily, his heart giving a sudden jerk when a tiny, thin-lipped, careful smile started tugging at the corners of Thorin’s mouth. Pride and awkwardness mingled on his face and Bilbo was quick to reactivate his sunniest smile in return.
Mistress Kira seemed to have given up on her teaching meanwhile; she was engaged in a low conversation with an awkward blonde boy who seemed to have been drained of all colour. The burly boy who had made room for Bilbo said in a challenging tone that nobody liked them, and Bilbo felt Thorin stiffen beside him.
As he looked over, he could see those beautiful eyes grow ever harder and colder in genuine fright and, when they snapped for a second into his direction, Bilbo felt a shiver of apprehension rustle through him like the North wind blew the leaves off the barren branches.
Looking up, Bilbo once again felt like Miss Kira was a godsend, for he could read the same horrified incomprehension in her eyes that he felt surging within his chest. She looked positively indignant when the class challenged her on not screaming at them, and Bilbo could see her hands clench and unclench rhythmically.
“How do you feel about dwarves?” Bilbo whispered to Thorin to distract the boy from the pain setting his gaze aflame.
“Dwarves? Yeah, they’re cool.” Thorin tried to hide his confusion, but failed miserably, which made Bilbo chuckle.
“Thorin and I will do a presentation about dwarves!” Bilbo announced to the teacher who nodded, slowly, her gaze heavy and warm on their faces. Bilbo knew that she had understood his meaning: I am here, and I am ready to roll up my sleeves and be a part of this.
Thorin’s head whipped around, his eyes huge now and, for a second, Bilbo could see behind the carefully closed-off façade of a slightly constipated and very ill-tempered young man; he saw the kind of desperate hopefulness that never failed to break hearts. Had Miss Kira seen that as well?
“Will we?” Thorin asked. “We shall, your notes tell me that you’re a smart fellow. You can come over to my house if you want to and we can work on it…or…we can go to the library.” Bilbo could have swallowed his own tongue in embarrassment; he had been overzealous once again.
“I’d invite you to mine, but…there’s a lot of people.” Thorin replied with a small chuckle that betrayed discomfiture but also a good deal of genuine humour. How interesting it would be to see more of that, Bilbo thought.
“Sure, as you wish.” Bilbo shrugged. He caught Miss Kira’s eyes and realised that he had stared at Thorin with maybe a tad too much intensity…somehow, he felt like Miss Kira saw everything. As it should be. She was a teacher after all.
She was not teaching though, she was observing the class with calm, interested eyes, trying to get a feeling for the children within it. Only, they were barely children, Bilbo was almost certain that he was one of the younger ones.
It was a small-town school, maybe they mixed different ages, he did not know, but it felt strange, nonetheless.
He was curious who that Mister Smaug had been and why he could sense a hint of pain in his classmates’ voices when they spoke about him. Miss Kira had picked up on that as well, he saw, as her own eyes darkened, and her lips quivered.
Healthy anger flashed in her eyes when she repeated that this man was gone. I am here, Bilbo heard between the lines. She was. And so was he.
Bilbo wracked his brains to find something witty and funny to say to that wondrous boy next to him who had relapsed into brooding silence, as if the mere mention of their former teacher was enough to ruin his mood.
“Did he really hate you?” Bilbo found himself asking and immediately, he was met with a withering stare.
“Yes…Things have happened and my family and I…we’re not the best regarded in this town.” Again, that flash of mortification that made his face look like it was carved from stone.
“Well, I am a newcomer and I’ll make up my own mind.” Bilbo said reassuringly. “And I don’t feel like Miss Kira hates you.” He added with a soft smile.
“Yet.” A resignation too old and deep in one so young hit Bilbo square in the chest and his heart gave another painful twitch; had he been less mindful of common rules of decency, he would have put his small, pudgy hand on top of the broad, callused one resting just a few inches away.
A knock interrupted their conversation and another teacher rushed in. He was impossibly tall and intimated that he had been worried that Miss Kira had been slaughtered by the class. Weird, Bilbo thought, as far as he had understood, it had been the class who had been subjected to the abuse of their former teacher and not the other way around.
He had been so focused on Thorin’s shy smiles and overwhelming beauty that he had only half-listened to accounts of a damaged car. What was a damaged car compared to a damaged soul?
Even though she was considerably shorter than her colleague, Miss Kira interposed herself between him and the class, shielding them with her own body and this instinct of a woman reminded Bilbo so much of his own brave mother that it made him miss her even more.
“Asshole.” Thorin muttered under his breath with barely held-back indignation.
“Miss Kira didn’t believe him. Listen, she volunteered to stay here.” Bilbo tried to assuage the flaming, helpless anger in the other boy’s face. “They’ll not keep her for long if she’s to be exposed to us all the time.” Thorin prophesied darkly.
Bilbo had no idea what had happened here, but, hitherto, Miss Kira seemed perfectly fine. She was presently reading a book and chuckling to herself.
“Mistress Kira…” The shy blonde boy handed her a drawing he had made, and she gushed over it for a few minutes, slowly drawing out confessions from him: he was a good athlete, swift and enduring, but he was nowhere near Thorin’s or Dwalin’s level when it came to brute force.
Dwalin must be that other tall boy, Bilbo thought, eyeballing the dark-haired grump with interest.
“Do you not intend to give us something to do?” That very same person then asked the teacher gruffly.
“Can you not find something for yourself to do?” She gave back pleasantly and turned back to her book, but her fingers gripped the cover a little tighter than before.
“He didn’t mean no offense, Mistress. It’s just…Mister Smaug didn’t like to see us idle.” The smaller boy in the last row provided an explanation. Bilbo thought that he looked incredibly gentle and maybe just a little shy.
“I shall teach you during my teaching hours and I can teach you now if that is your desire. Nonetheless, I think we should go out into the courtyard and get some fresh air. As we’re all bound to be here, we might as well have some fun.” Miss Kira closed her book and shoved it back into her satchel before getting up.
“You want to take us out?” The blonde boy, Legolas, seemed thunderstruck.
“You’re almost grown-ups, are you a flight risk?” Miss Kira cocked one eyebrow and pointed at the door.
“Bilbo and me, we’ll see how we fare with you lot, won’t we?” She turned to him, and Bilbo blushed again, hadn’t that been his exact thought?
He nodded enthusiastically and sniggered when she gave him a discreet wink before tilting her head into Thorin’s direction. “Why don’t you all tell me something about you?” She asked.
Silence.
Bilbo was not about to tell her that he was an orphan and that he had changed schools after a deplorable incident with another boy at his last placement. Only a few months more and he’d be officially emancipated and grown-up.
Maybe, he’d leave school and everything behind and start a new life somewhere else…
“Why don’t you tell us how you ended up in this miserable place to try to teach those everyone has given up on?” Dwalin hissed with unveiled cockiness.
So, that was why he had been put in this class, Bilbo thought, the headmaster thought him damaged beyond repair.
The teacher seemed to hesitate, then she said quietly: “Things have happened…and it is true that I have not chosen you, but I’ll keep you.” She smiled. “If they offer you a normal class, you’ll say: Nay, I’ll stick with the dumbasses?”
Clearly, Dwalin was not about to believe her and again, Bilbo could feel Thorin tense up beside him as they stepped into the courtyard and moved towards a big tree in the middle.
“No, I will not say anything of that sort. I’ll say thank you very much, but no thank you.” Miss Kira’s voice was sharp-edged now. “And why is that?” The blustering air seemed to falter and Dwalin looked a little deflated now.
“Because I don’t hate you and no matter how much you try to get me to, Master Dwalin, I shan’t.” She shrugged and sat down against the tree, taking out her book again and continuing to read as if nothing had happened.
“She’s something.” Bilbo whipped around, had Thorin actually laughed? Yes, yes, he could clearly see a row of white teeth between the stretched lips that looked so sinfully inviting to him.
He also could see the rest of the boy now, even though looking at it was the single worst idea he had ever had in his whole life it seemed to him.
Thorin was tall, a good deal taller than himself and he looked as solid as the tree their teacher was leaning against now.
“All brawn, no brains.” Thorin muttered when he caught the appraising gaze of the new student.
“Yeah, that’s what you want people to believe so they’d feel less intimidated, huh?” Bilbo replied automatically before he could reign in his loose tongue. Thorin stiffened, rubbing the back of his neck absent-mindedly before admitting: “No, that’s what…”
“If you bring up that Smaug again.” Bilbo warned him and Thorin fell silent. Sitting down on the patch of lawn surrounding the tree, Bilbo patted the grass next to him and was pleasantly surprised when the other boy plopped down immediately, a little too close for comfort maybe.
“Miss Kira and me, we are thoroughly fed up with your former teacher already, aren’t we, Miss Kira?” Bilbo felt the need to make this clear and to stand up for his potential friend and definite crush.
“He sounds like a brute.” Miss Kira replied without looking up from her book, but Bilbo could see her mouth curl into a smile behind the pages.
“You know nothing about us.” Thorin mumbled under his breath, honest regret tinging his voice.
“Then tell me, what makes you all so terrible?” Bilbo gathered his courage and placed his open palm on the clenched fist of the boy sitting next to him. “I am just not nice. Blondie is shite at reading. Dwalin has brawls, quite a few of them. Bombur is just fat. Redhead is from the wrong side of the tracks.”
“You’re very nice.” Bilbo demurred, which got him a wide-eyed stare from Thorin. “You think so?”
Bilbo nodded. “Ah, we’re just the kind of people other self-respecting people don’t like to look at.” Dwalin interjected as he passed by with a wooden plank that had detached from one of the nearby benches.
“Look at?” Bilbo thought that maybe, they had switched codes and language somewhere in the middle of the conversation because he could not understand what was going on.
“We make people uncomfortable.” Thorin supplied softly, brushing his long hair out of his face and pressing his lips into a thin line. “Miss Kira, do you know what’s going on?” Bilbo asked helplessly, because yes, Thorin’s looks made him uncomfortable but certainly not in the way suggested here.
“No idea, never seen more handsome teenagers in my life.” Miss Kira replied disinterestedly, her eyes still glued to her book. “Ah, I am not alone then. Are we in an alternate universe?” Bilbo replied, happy to have at least one other person here who was not part of this grotesque play of innuendo and stubborn misbelief.
“Have you seen my father?” Legolas spluttered and then pointed miserably at his scrawny frame hanging from a tree branch. “I have, what does that matter?” Now, Miss Kira looked up, questioning.
“We’re just…” Ori sighed. “You’re “just” nothing at all; you are what you are and, as far as I am concerned, there’s nothing wrong with that.” Miss Kira said with an air of finality and returned her attention to her book.
When the bell rang, Thorin gathered up his things and made to leave.
Bilbo wondered if he should say something; sucking on his lip, he searched for the right combination of words that would sound casual but also express how grateful he was for the care the other boy had taken today.
“Do you want to walk with me?” Thorin asked a particularly nice pebble sitting right next to Bilbo’s right foot.
Bilbo waited for a few seconds to see if the pebble would reply, after all, in a world where people would NOT want to look at Thorin it was about as probable that pebbles were alive and capable of speech.
“Or not…see you tomorrow.” Thorin mumbled hastily and turned away.
“Wait, wait…” Bilbo called out, not taking the time to put on his rucksack which now slapped painfully against his legs as he hastened after the tall, retreating figure. “I do, I do.” He exclaimed breathlessly.
“There are not that many roads around here…so…” Thorin explained sheepishly as they walked along the main road.
“Hey, idiot!” A stunning girl caught up to them, slinging her arms around Thorin’s neck and planting a wet kiss on his cheek. “How was the new teacher?” She asked as he slung his arm under her behind and lifted her apparently effortlessly up.
Mortification and a fierce jealousy rose in Bilbo. Of course, what had he expected? A boy that gorgeous would obviously have a girlfriend just as beautiful and boy oh boy, she was a marvel if ever Bilbo had seen one. Her hair was luscious and intricately braided and the way she laughed expectantly up at Thorin put the very sun to shame.
“We have a new student.” Thorin grumbled, still carrying the girl in one arm as if she weighed nothing at all.
Her radiant face turned to him, then edged sideways in a slow, deliberate motion. “Oh, he’s cute.” She half-whispered.
“Dís…” Thorin hissed warningly, and she lifted both her hands. “I’m just saying…Such a cute little nose and those warm, greenish eyes…” She purred into his ear.
Bilbo was scandalised to see Thorin pinch the girl in the thigh rather unceremoniously.
“Hi, I’m Dís.” She extended her hand to Bilbo over Thorin’s shoulder. Annoyance washed through Bilbo’s befuddled mind, not only was she stunning, no, she had to be nice and charming as well. So much for being a lucky boy.
“Bilbo…” He said, mustering up his polite smile that was just a tiny bit wobbly around the edges.
When he saw his street coming up, he muttered: “This is me. I’ll leave you with your girlfriend then, see you tomorrow.”
“Funny, I was about to say the same thing.” The girl grinned and plopped heavily onto the pavement when Thorin just let go of her. “Ouch, you idiotic moron of a…” She hissed and brought her fist down on his upper arm, which had next to no effect at all on the sturdy limb.
“That piece of wood remotely resembling a human is my brother.” She explained to Bilbo, and he could not suppress the sudden relief that, no doubt, showed on his face if her broad smile was anything to go by.
“He certainly looks sculpted.” Bilbo sighed and then, realising that he had said that out loud, he hurried towards his street. To his utter dismay, other footfalls seemed to follow his hasty retreat.
Damn!
“Hey, new boy, Bilbo, wait…” The girl, Bilbo realised, her voice a song and her steps a flurry of featherlight touches on the stony ground. “Wait, wait…So, you think my grumpy brother is cute, yeah?”
Her arm snaked into the crook of his as she sauntered alongside him, grinning up at him as if they had been friends forever. “He’s not really very dumb, he just likes to pretend he is, so people leave him alone.” She chattered on.
“I had figured as much, yeah.” Bilbo murmured, overwhelmed by the intrusive curiosity of the young girl.
“Leave him alone, Dís.” Thorin barked from behind, that note of utter mortification and humiliation making his voice sound even rougher and deeper than before. “You think he’s cute?” The girl whispered confidingly now.
“He’s…yeah, he’s cute.” Bilbo stammered under his breath, unable to withstand the onslaught of her good-humoured questioning. Did it even matter? It was obvious, everyone could see how fucking gorgeous that boy was.
“Want to go have an ice-cream with me and that cute brother of mine?” She invited him.
Bilbo looked at the house where his elderly cousin was certainly already waiting for him and then back at that glorious new classmate who just stood a few paces away, shuffling his feet awkwardly and skewering his bouncing sister with glares. It was good to make new friends, Bilbo told himself, it was what his cousin had encouraged him to do and if those friends turned out to be the most contrarily grumpy, awkwardly shy and blindingly handsome boy and his sister, who would fault poor Bilbo for it?
“Yeah sure, let me just…” Bilbo just threw his rucksack into the front yard and let Dís lead him back up the road.
@lordoftherazzles So, there's the second chapter with a bit more hurt than anticipated and a tiny bit of pining...If you're looking for me, I'm buried alive somewhere in the forest :S
3 notes · View notes
adamsvanrhijn · 3 years
Text
it’s time for... the great big post of Things Smithensy Published This Year, 2020 / quarantimes edition!
under a cut this year for the first time!
ordinarily this post is called “etc etc Things Smithensy Wrote This Year etc etc”.  it’s different this year because i wrote a significant amount more than i published (formerly, this would have been to the tune of a few thousand, this year it’s about 200 thousand) and also published some things that were entirely or partially written in 2019.
total # of works published on AO3: 46 total # of chapters (including one shots) "": 143 total # words "": 350,179
Tumblr media
[for comparison, in the previous five years, 2015-2019, i published 243,892 words. 🧠🪱] [that’s the worm emoji, if you’re on a platform that doesn’t support it.]
most prolific months of the year by word count: 
May: 47,643
August: 41,241
March: 40,112
other interesting things:
1 work was first posted in 2019 and continued to update through 2020. (it is one of three 2019 WIPs, the other two of which did not update at all this year! whoops!)
14 works first posted in 2020 remain incomplete
7 works contained sexual content
5 works contained content that would get me canceled in other fandoms!
summary of my 2020 music taste:
6 works are titled with Carly Rae Jepsen song lyrics
5 works are titled with Joanna Newsom song lyrics
5 works are titled with Vienna Teng song lyrics
2 works are titled with Aly & AJ song lyrics
Without further ado !
january
but level, in time Thomas and Richard ten years after the conclusion of you will not take my heart, alive. Rated M, 1.2k words. [WIP]
and eager besides Thomas dresses the Duke for dinner. Rated T, 1.2k words. During canon.
like foals, unsteady on their feet Two blokes, having a chat, not trying to fit in for once. Rated T,  11.1k words. During canon.
"You can draw the line wherever you like, Mr Ellis. Richard. Doesn't change the fact that I went off with a strange man from a pub, now, does it – "
"Who among us hasn't?" 
Thomas made a sound rather like he was choking. It seemed inappropriate to smile; Richard did anyway. Just a small one; he couldn't help himself. Thomas had a way of cutting through his curtains, letting the sunshine in.
"So," Thomas said after a moment. He coughed. "You really are…"
And hadn't he thought he'd made that perfectly clear.
"No, Mr Barrow," he said, "I touched your mouth back there owing to our shared inclination toward domestic service."
february
(went with you up to) the place you grew up in A summer day in the Ellis back garden. Rated T, 1.6k words. Post-canon.
want you in my room The last night of the Royal visit, and the morning after. Rated T, 3.7k words. During canon.
all my wooing done Not all firsts have seconds. Rated T, 1.1k words. During canon.
and speak each other in passing Four times Thomas Barrow didn't meet Richard Ellis. Rated T, 1.3k words During canon.
"William," Thomas calls back, "we don't have all day."
He's gotten distracted watching one of several tearful departures happening on the platform. People do love to get in the way for that sort of thing, like no one else's time or space matters because they've got feelings. 
"...Mum, come on, now, it won't be so long – "
"They never do let you away from that place – "
It's a young man about their age and a woman who is evidently his mother.
No one ought to behave like that in public.
march
3 additional chapters of a fic we'll get to later comprised the bulk of the ~40k words from this month; but no unique works were last published/updated in March! 
april
far away, the thudding of the guns Thomas, during and after the Front. Unrated, 20k words. [WIP, first chapter published Dec 8, 2019]
strange how I fit into you (there's a distance erased with the greatest of ease) It takes more than love to run a household. Rated M, 10.8k words. Post-canon.
"How did this get here?" Thomas asks, holding up one of Richard's shirts. It's soft; the pinstripes are faded and have been for ages now. There is an unidentifiable blotch on the sleeve up by the shoulder that wasn't there a few weeks ago when he last washed it.
Richard sets his head on his shoulder. His cheek scratches. Tomorrow morning he'll shave and Thomas will pretend to be relieved. "I don't know," he says lightly. "Must've been at work."
"It's not tailor's chalk," Thomas retorts.
"Maybe on the bus."
"You had your jacket off on the bus, did you?"
"Had it off some place," says Richard, nuzzling his neck. He holds him a little tighter, moves one hand up to his chest and the other lower than it needs to be. "Maybe here… I get distracted, don't I, Mr Barrow."
"Yes, you do," says Thomas, snippy, if reluctantly so. "And now you're distracting me, so get."
persistence A look at the shared history of Phyllis Baxter and Thomas Barrow. Rated T, 11k. [WIP, first chapter published Jan 3]
you and me will get on just fine Snippets from the Royal Visit. Rated T, 11.4k words. [WIP]
may
one more night with you The Crawleys open up Grantham House for the last time, and Thomas has someone to see. Unrated, 6.6k words. Post-canon. [WIP]
good love Five times Thomas danced with a woman, and one time he didn't. Rated T, 2.5k words. Pre, during, post canon. 
He can't stop thinking about the last time he danced with somebody.
He hopes he's okay.
and I've been feeling weak without it (only want a real, real love) The danger always was that they wouldn't work in close quarters, but they do. Rated M, 14.6k words. Post-canon.
june
better things to do The night out in York goes differently. Unrated, 3.1k words. AU, canon divergence. [WIP]
From behind him comes the thrum of chatter and the sound of jazz music, upbeat and swinging, the sort he'd expect to hear at any place from the Palais to the Jubilee Hall but not necessarily in his own corner. Not necessarily for working people, as it happens, either, the other aspect notwithstanding. Dancing. There must be dancing. When was the last time he danced with anybody?
july
better late than the never we've been told before Richard fetches Thomas from Downton. Rated T, 4.8k words. Post-canon.
and those who sow trouble reap it A love triangle, except it's a many-angled shape. Rated T, 10.1k words. Pre, during canon. [WIP]
tiny little bows Thomas is tired of waiting. Richard is, too. Rated T, 2.6k words. During canon.
"Don't tell me they don't have those in London."
It is sweet, Thomas can admit, or at least it is as far as cats go. Just sat on the wall with its tail swishing, nuzzling his hand.
"Well, they don't have this one in London," says Mr Ellis. He looks up at Thomas and grins in a fashion that makes his heart flip over, then turns back to the cat. It's purring. Thomas can't blame it; he would be, too.
august
bring you back to where I know you (I just want you to let you let me hold you) Thomas and Richard find something they'd been missing. Rated X, 6k words. Post-canon.
only a steel man can be a lover They don't talk about the sadness. Rated T, 900 words. Post-canon.
it takes my breath away (what you do so naturally) Thomas chooses his own path. Then he veers off and finds a better one. Rated M, 5.4k words. During canon.
...linens airing out in windows and back gardens, children with clothing either hemmed just before their wrists and ankles or full of tucks and patches… Must not be a school day, but then you never know, do you?
The men are working, he suspects, only to find a game of football in the park just round the corner.
Home used to look like this.
He wonders if it still would, now.
to guide your eye Richard tries something old; Thomas tries something new. Unrated, 11.3k words. Post-canon.
september
writing in the margins Richard isn't sure of Mr Barrow just yet, but he hopes he will be soon. Rated T, 2.4k words. During canon.
...As it happens the resident butler and I seem to be getting on like a house on fire, but don't make anything of it just yet... 
tend and mind Flu season. Thomas makes for a good nurse. Rated G, 485 words. Post-canon.
forever and please don't go A storm rolls in. Richard gets stuck at Downton. Rated T, 500 words. Post-canon.
count up all the chances Handsome young footmen loving people they shouldn't. Unrated, 2.8k words. Spanning and post canon. [WIP]
october
let's not give the game away Thomas struggles with a finer detail of valeting. Rated T, 600 words. Pre-canon.
take my eyes to borrow A chance encounter changes everything. It also changes very little. Rated M, 18.8k words. Pre and spanning canon, AU.
"You got into a spot of trouble with your commanding officer?"
"I may have done."
It was spoken like it ought to have been a joke, but Ellis wasn't smiling anymore. "Queer, isn't it, being in service," he murmured. He really was talkative. "The bonds you form… things aren't so clear-cut out here as they were before, are they?"
Had he told him he was in service, before?
"How do you mean?"
"I think you know, Corporal," he said.
"I don't," Thomas told him.
But he knew enough in the moment to know that he was lying.
the things I shut Daisy comes to a conclusion. Rated T, 1.8k words. Post-canon.
a love that won't sit still After the Royal Visit, Thomas and Richard correspond. Rated T, 18.5k words. Post-canon. [WIP]
hope keeps us standing Downton Abbey is not like other great houses, and its butler is not like other butlers. Unrated, 17.2k words. During canon. [WIP]
you follow what you feel inside (it's intuitive; you don't have to try) Times are changing at Downton, and Thomas has a decision to make. Rated M, 1.9k words. During canon, AU. [WIP]
a love that won't sit still The Royal visit ends; Thomas and Richard correspond. Rated T, 18.5k words. [WIP, first chapter Feb 2.]
november
of someone else's flowers Richard makes an important introduction. Rated T, 2.6k. Post-canon. [WIP]
all my casualties of love Thomas tells Richard about his past lovers. Rated T, 5.5k words. During canon.
nothing like a fresh abrasion (to win your love) Richard takes care of Thomas. Rated M, 15.3k words, extensive content warnings. Post-canon.
Fittingly, a breeze passes through from outside, occupying the moment of silence. Autumn air—it makes them both shiver. Earlier in the morning Richard had opened up the windows to get some light in, some fresh air. Most nights they keep the curtains drawn and with good reason, but they don't always get opened back up again.
It's the little things. He's going to endeavour to make them a priority in future.
Drapes tied back, window propped, shutters open. Sunshine.
He wonders if he ought to be concerned about heights.
LES MISÉRABLES: what of the rhythm and meter A literary exchange in the backroom of the Café Musain. Rated T, 1k words. Canon era. [Written in 2019.]
LES MISÉRABLES: the fall of a royal head Jean Prouvaire attempts to bring revolutionary praxis into the bedroom. Rated T, 1.7k words. Canon era. [Written in 2019.]
a web that you have wove There's something unusual about the Royal Household entourage… and Mr Ellis in particular. Rated T, 14k words. During canon, AU.
december
when to my soul, the body would say Thomas and Richard stay at a pub in the middle of nowhere; intimacy ensues. Rated X, 83k words. [WIP, first chapter published Jan 5 2020. This is the March fic.]
this sudden burst of sunlight Thomas & Richard's first time in the A Love That Won't Sit Still universe. Rated X, 5k words.
waken us from sleeping On his way to France Matthew comes across someone he knows. Rated M, 6.9k words. During/between canon. [WIP]
warm blood (underneath my skin) Vampire Richard drinks Thomas's blood. Rated X, 1.6k words. [WIP]
the most sacred of life's keepsakes Thomas & Sybil fall in love and get married. Rated T, 2.1k words. AU, canon divergence.
today, a difference Thomas & Sybil have a baby. Rated T, 7.7k words. AU, canon divergence.
never die for long Thomas has a letter; Sybil has ideas. Rated T, 5.3k words. AU, canon divergence.
kindling Telephone calls between Thomas and Richard on Christmas day, over the years. Rated T, 5.1k words. Post-canon.
They've got a sparkling tree and a roaring fire and full bellies and a very comfortable sofa and, best of all, each other, in a place that's their own. Both of their own, and unlike years past, neither of them are plucking hours out of thin air and hopping on milk trains to make the day work. There's nowhere to set off for in the morning, no other place they're meant to be, no other people to serve. They were together the day before and they'll be together the day after.
How very nice it is, that.
It was a very long time in coming.
20 notes · View notes