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#i think that's fine? the alternate universe is meant to be a new story anyway

themanofax · 2 years

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What Makes Someone a Joestar?

So I’ve been diving headfirst into Stone Ocean recently; I finished the second batch a while ago, and just finished re-reading the manga. I’m feeling Very Normal about the whole thing, and so I wanted to take some time to write about what I think is the most heartbreakingly beautiful part of the story, as well as how it embodies what makes JoJo different from so many other series out there.

It should go without saying that Stone Ocean is meant to be a culmination of all the previous parts. The “main story” of JoJo can be traced from Part 1 through Part 3, before concluding with Part 6. Strictly speaking, the main universe is “about” the Joestars and their conflicts with the Brandos; Parts 2, 4 and 5, while amazing, are more meant to flesh out the universe and characters in preparation for the conclusion of this overarching storyline. (I should mention that Part 4 is by far my favorite and this isn’t meant to be criticizing these parts, lol)

So, obviously, with Part 6 being the last Part in the main universe, Araki had a tall task ahead of him. How would he decide to end this story - this war that started 131 years ago, when an unfortunate carriage driver careened off a cliff and set Fate into motion? Who would be the one to deal the final blow, to be the instrument of justice that set right all the wrongs that DIO had wrought?

Most mangaka would’ve said “the main character”. Others, slightly less conventional ones, would’ve said “all the characters together - or maybe, Jotaro, since he was the one who killed DIO in Part 3. Or maybe, Pucci wins, and the storyline ends with tragedy.”

All valid answers. But Araki chose differently.

Araki decided that the hero of Part 6 would be a scared little boy. A boy who was emboldened by the main character’s sacrifice. A boy who became so much braver, so much cleverer, so much more determined than he ever could’ve dreamed he could be.

Emporio Alniño is the last character anyone could’ve expected to be the sole survivor of Part 6. I can only imagine how confused, scared and hopeless weekly readers must’ve felt - “Jolyne and Jotaro are dead! Emporio is the only one left? And now we need to wait a week for next chapter? How are we gonna get out of this?”

But Emporio rose to the occasion. Screaming, crying as he watched his friend, the older sister he never had, torn apart by an unstoppable god, he found the courage to win. And, in one of the saddest, most heartrending moments in JoJo, the Part ends as he watches look-alikes of his friends meeting for the first time, knowing that they don’t recognize him and that he is the only being in the entire universe that knows this pain. A truly amazing ending, which ABSOLUTELY DOES NOT DESERVE THE BAD REPUTATION IT HAS IN THE FANDOM-

Anyway. What does this have to do with the title of the post?

Well. It all ties back to that insanely daring, one-of-a-kind decision that Araki made.

What does that decision say about JoJo as a whole? (Or at least, about the main universe.) It’s a decision that centers around the climax of six parts, of 16 real-world years of storytelling - surely it has some bearing on what the story up to this point has meant.

Well, let’s look at Jolyne. The protagonist of Part 6, the daughter of invincible shonen badass Jotaro Kujo. Throughout the part, she displays the ferocity, tenacity, and cleverness that we’ve come to expect from the Joestar bloodline; skinning guards alive to escape their grasps, lighting herself on fire to best one of the sons of DIO, printing out an image in binary to overcome a Stand that messes with one’s memory. All incredibly impressive... but those traits are not what end up saving the day.

Instead, the trait that Jolyne possesses - that all the Joestars possess - that ends up saving the entire universe... is kindness.

Jolyne’s selfless, senseless kindness - which inspired her to risk her life to save a little boy she had just met, to defend him as they escaped from prison and fought to revive her father, that inspired her to stand up to a time-bending demon just to buy a few seconds for him to escape. It is that kindness that allows Emporio to live, that drives him to avenge the main cast and free humanity from an eternity of sleeping slave-dom.

And that, right there, is what I think makes JoJo so different from so many other shonen. In any other shonen, Jolyne would’ve overcome Pucci by being the strongest, or the fastest, or the smartest. And to be sure, those qualities are great! Every Joestar has those qualities to some degree, and they certainly couldn’t have overcome the obstacles they do in their Parts without them. But when the cards are down and it’s the main JoJo vs the main villain, what ends up saving the day every time?

The allies that the JoJos have made. The no-lifes, the thugs, the villains and nobodies, that the JoJos, through their impossible kindness, were able to redeem.

And that’s what I think makes a Joestar. Their ability to bring out the best in others. Okuyasu was just a street punk mindlessly following his brother’s orders; but when faced with Josuke’s mercy and casual compassion, he was able to become one of Morioh’s staunchest defenders. Bucciarati was a mafioso who had completely given up hope of bringing about change, who wasn’t above torturing and psychologically manipulating a teenage boy who he didn’t even know for sure was a murderer. But when faced with Giorno’s golden dream, he woke up from his fate as a sleeping slave, and was able to bring about a better tomorrow for all of Italy.

I could go on. But hopefully you get the point by now - and maybe you can apply this to your own favorite characters in the series. In the main universe, the Joestar legacy is one of compassion. Being the strongest or the smartest means nothing if you don’t have allies on your side; and JoJo as a whole goes to great, pain-staking lengths to show that we, as a species, excel when we are together. That it is the human connection between us that allows us to overcome gods of time, or immortal vampires, or any other manner of boogeymen and monsters that constantly threaten our future. And I just think... that’s so refreshing.

So many shonen make a big deal of their MCs being “special”. Because they were born with a special power, or because they can beat up the opponent enough that it brings about change. And, to be clear, the “power of friendship” is a shonen trope for a reason; JoJo isn’t the first series to have this kind of message in a long shot. But I just... feel like JoJo does it so well. It never feels cheap, or contrived; and I think that’s because, rather than just being used as a plot device to allow our heroes to beat villains that they logically shouldn’t be able to, JoJo threads that message into its very core. Not a single moment goes by without the series reminding you of this fundamental truth; and as I described above, it all culminates in the ultimate act of kindness resulting in the ultimate victory.

JoJo is a weird series. It’s about overly masculine men making strange, sexual poses at each other. It’s about ghosts punching each other until they explode. It’s dumb, it’s cheesy, and sometimes it straight up doesn’t make sense.

But at the end of the day, it is a story that posits that humanity can overcome the impossible. And the vehicle through which they deliver that message - the JoJos, a name synonymous with shonen manga, with badassery and masculinity - are special... because they help others be who they were meant to be.

I think there’s something unspeakably beautiful about that.

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katzynia · 7 months

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Oooh, games! Thanks @there-must-be-a-lock for tagging me <3

Rules: Go to your published works on AO3 and list the first fic you ever published there, the last fic you published, any fic that you wrote for a fandom/ship only once, your favorite fic you wrote in the fandom/ship that has the most works, the fic you wish more people read, the fic you agonized over the most, the fic that sprang fully formed from your mind without any effort, and a work you are proud of—for whatever reason.

First fic published on Ao3: Signs of life, published 14.12.2022. It is more of a dribble, but for me, it was the first piece of fiction writing I've done in something like 15 years.

Last fic published: Straddling the line (in discord and rhyme) - my first pure pwp, I think it turned out really well!

Fandom/ship I only wrote once: I've stayed pretty firmly on my lane; I have only one fic that is not Jayde: (Be)longing which is for Games of Thrones (yes, got fic in year 2022, I just felt like it). Incidentally, it is also a wip, but I do plan on finishing it some point...

Favorite fic in most popular fandom/ship: Aaaaah, this one I thought a lot 'cause one way of the other, I like all my fics. But fine, I'll go with the most popular one: Let it fade, let it linger. I honestly think it's good. It's the first one I plotted and really thought over just by myself, the premise works (even still) and I thought it was pretty nice and tight on how the plot went. I could blather on about this one for a very long time, but I am fond of it.

Fic I wish more people read: strangers looking from afar (getting closer) Seems like Arkham AUs are not very popular. I wish more people would read it, 'cause I had such alternatively fun and horrible time figuring out how Jason and Slade work in that universe. This one cooked in my head for a long time before it was ready to be written, and I think it turned out pretty good.

Fic I agonized over: Ah, this was easy to pick: Every piece of you is easily the most difficult time I've had writing. First I thought about the idea itself for months before I actually started writing, then pushing every chapter out was slow and it didn't feel like flowing at any point (except the last chapter, but that I'd mostly written in plotting/planning stage). It didn't go the way I've planned and is one of the examples where I meant to write some smut and then couldn't (didn't feel like it). It was also one of those things that kinda pulled me down, nagging at the back of my head that 'you should finish this fic, you failure'. Doesn't help that I had a bit of a difficult time IRL at the time... Sigh. Anyway, I really like the last chapter and the first chapter. And the rest isn't bad either. Doesn't read as agonizing as it was to write :D

Fic that popped out fully-formed: Think a little clearer This one I wrote literally in one sitting in my notebook. The editing was just writing it to word with minimal edits, it just flowed. Goddamn joys of writing :D Might have something to do with the fact that it is a sequel to the first must I ever did, and I had a sense of accomplishment for publishing that. I wrote this pretty much the next day and it neatly finishes the story that was left just a little bit open in the first part. Anyway. Inspiration, my beloved.

Fic I'm proud of: Waiting (for the other shoe to drop) I am proud of many fics of mine (like Let is series), but chose this one cause this is the one where I really tried two new(ish) things: Humor and action. This is the first where I went in with the idea of making it funny (I do write kinda-funny lines here and there, but that is mostly incidental) for realz. And the last chapter is the first action scene I wrote, where it isn't just a few lines about shooting or something. Took some time and effort to figure out (for both the humor and the action), but I think it worked out well. :)

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Task for you, if you feel like it (no pressure): @nonbinaryjaybird, @marirah

#writing #tag games #fun and games #fic writing

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whatgaviiformes · 2 years

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Fic: Tracy Seaside Orchard and Farm - Part 13 (Chapter 7)

Summary: Alternate Universe. Gordon is a farmer. And he seems to have nothing to do with International Rescue. Now on AO3! Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Family.

*Warnings have been updated to include phobias and panic attacks* Please be aware for this chapter. The section with the panic attack will be marked for you to skip, but note that this story will continue to explore the aftermath.

I do think this will answer some of those pending questions you all have. :)

New to this fic? Please be aware for this story that parts are posted in sections here on tumblr before I upload the chapter to Ao3. Chapter 6 has been updated on Ao3 and will bring you to caught up. Chapter 7 is long enough on its own, and we will likely continue with this length as this story continues and concludes, now that we are in the heavier material. I should probably tell you, the links below are right. When you get to Ao3, the prologue has thrown off the chapter count.

A/N: There’s still so much love.

It’s been awhile since I acknowledged thank yous - so to @gumnut-logic for the Virgil sanity check in this one and @the-original-sineater for having to keep this whole concept quiet for so long and providing feedback.

I’ve put this one on Ao3 directly again because it’s another 3 almost 4K words at once.

Gonna go hide now, so I hope you like

*****

Chapter 7

Virgil considered himself a rather level-headed guy in most cases, but that was only because he settled himself in his projects. Honestly, anyone would seem level-headed in comparison to Scott. But working had always helped him clear his mind, and he appreciated having a similar mind to talk to during his endeavors. At home his never-ending project was Thunderbird Two with her constant upgrades because she deserved the best. Meanwhile, Brains’ pragmatic focus was a blessing for re-grounding himself when he needed it. Here, Everett wasn’t necessarily an objective bystander, but he promised Virgil he could compartmentalize his loyalty to Gordon if it meant that Virgil could get his feelings off his chest. The radio had taken most of them, the tractor the last quarter (even Scott would say he was fine to work on the heavy machinery, and it had really needed its steering upgraded), leaving Everett to provide an ear for the last 2% of his frustration while they worked on the final preparations for the party.

Regardless of the tension between them, Virgil would never risk the success of the event when it obviously mattered so much to Gordon and the rest of the people who’d offered him their friendship and hospitality. He was determined to get the stereo working for them and for his own satisfaction, so though he had a plan B, it was not an option. He had his heart set on getting the rustic antique functioning.

How far he’d come.

And so much had changed.

He had not known what to make of Scott’s suggestion that he visit Gordon of all people to heal from his injuries. At first, he’d been resistant, happily blissful in his ignorance of the comings and goings in the other man’s life. His brother’s idea was insane and laughable at best. As far as he was concerned, they had the finest of care facilities on Tracy Island and on the mainland if needed, and what could Gordon possibly do for him anyway? And what did Scott know of Gordon? Virgil hadn’t wanted the glimpse beyond the curtain.

“You’ll understand.”

“No way.”

“It’s already arranged.”

“It’s not happening.”

But it had, and he hadn’t been happy. It took an ultimatum and wrangling by all three of his siblings to just - give it a try. Before he could think about it, the next time on terra firma was stepping onto land he’d never seen, of an estate his father’s son had apparently built in the wake of the quarrel that destroyed them. If you could call it that. It was more that Gordon had ravaged the heart of something that couldn’t be fixed or replaced, then left, like a coward, and never came back. The Gordon he once knew, even the one after the hydrofoil accident, could never be so heartless.

But the estate was magnificent.

Read More on Ao3

#Gavii Scribit #Fic:TSOF #chicken!Dad #gordon tracy #Virgil Tracy #Farming Estate AU #thunderangst #misunderstandings #thunderbirds fanfiction #tw: panic attack #tw: phobia

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lululawrence · 3 years

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lululawrence’s May 2021 Fic List

Previous Fic Lists / Fic List Podcast Masterpost

May somehow managed to escape my grasp and here we are again! I got a weekend away from the kids this month, which allowed me the chance to finally read for hours on end, and I therefore have quite a few fics to talk about! They were truly amazing, I loved every single one, and I hope you appreciate them too!

If you’d like to hear me share my excitement about these fics verbally and in more detail, you can listen to this month’s podcast here.

As always, be sure to show your love and appreciation for all of the hard work our fandom authors have put into their fics with kudos, nice comments, and (when applicable) reblogging their fic posts!

Just for Tonight (I can be yours) by @sadaveniren / SadaVeniren (42k, E, Harry/Louis, Big Bang fic, A/B/O, Royalty AU, Alpha Louis, Omega Harry, Innocent Harry, Sheltered Harry, Arranged Marriage, Friends to Lovers, Angst with a Happy Ending, but HOW DO THEY GET THERE?? lol, Mpreg, Heat/Rut, Poor as shit sex education lmao, Okay but for real the world building in this was incredible, I can still see the pictures in my mind that I conjured up for certain parts of this fic, It is incredible and the PINING AND ANGST OMG)

reckless serenade by @thepolourryexpress / thepolourryexpress (4k, E, Harry/Louis, Girl Direction, This one is a bit hard to explain lmao, ....Non-Established Relationship.... relationship, it makes sense in the fic lol, clueless idiots in love, there we go, friends to lovers, humor, fluff, This is beyond sweet and fucking sexy)

a little tenderness by @disgruntledkittenface / disgruntledkittenface (11k, NR, Harry/Niall, 1D A/B/O Fest fic, Alpha Harry, Omega Niall, Touch Deprivation, Nesting, Cuddling, Scenting, Ace Harry, Fluff, Okay listen this fic was so fucking soft I cannot express to you, It was HEALING, I cryyyyyy it was just so beautiful)

What if I'm someone you won't talk about? by @louloubabys1992 / louloubaby92 (58k, M, Harry/Louis, Fine Line Fest fic, Song Fic, Based on Falling, Famous/Non-Famous, Childhood Sweethearts, Exes to Lovers, Kind of but not really at the same time?, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending but there’s fucking angst okay? lol, Hurt/Comfort, Sex Work, Exploitation, References to Rape, PTSD, There’s a lot of dark shit in here, please please please read the tags and keep yourself safe, But if you can handle it then fuck it was an fascinating story for sure!)

When Least Expected by @all-these-larrythings / Rearviewdreamer (22k, M, Harry/Louis, Quarantine Fic, Single Parent Louis, Teacher Harry, Mentions of Depression, Online Dating? Kind of?, Maybe it’s more like Long Distance dating, except they’re in the same city, anyway, Pining, Flirting, Oblivious boys, Soft, This fic was the epitome of soft, It was so incredibly healing to read it, So cathartic and beautiful and lovely, It just made me so happy and at peace reading this fic, and I really didn’t expect that from a quarantine fic tbh)

so c'mon c'mon (and dance with me baby) by @rockstarlouis / theweightofmywords (3k, NR, Harry/Louis, New Year’s Fic, Meet Cute, Louke are together at the beginning but it doesn’t last long, Work Party, but neither Louis or Harry work there lololol, Humor, Drinking, Dancing, This fic was just so short and sweet and fun I loved it)

Pound Cake by @kingsofeverything / kingsofeverything (2k, NR, Harry/Louis, Butthole Series fic, Hurt Louis, Sad Louis, Harry’s birthday, Friends to Lovers, Crack fic lmao, Misunderstandings, This fic was so funny but also somehow sweet, while still being about buttholes, Lauren is a magician what can I say lol)

Get Burned By the Fire by Anonymous (13k, NR, Shawn/Niall, Heartbreak Weather Fest fic, Song Fic, based on Small Talk, Bartender Niall, Mysterious Shawn, Casual Sex, I think that’s how you’d define their arrangement? lol, Pining, Harry and Louis are together and Niall’s besties and coworkers, They’re hilarious through all of this, Even though it’s casual sex or meant to be anyway, It defo is also like... a Breakup Fic, and also Exes to Lovers, Supernatural Elements, It’s all complicated and sooooo fucking gooooood)

The Shooting Star Of Promises And Fears by darkpoets (2k, NR, Harry/Louis, Soulmates, Wishes, This fic is incredibly hard to explain or describe, because the style and feel of it is incredibly unique, It feels almost floaty while you read it, if that makes sense)

Getting a Room by bluespring864 (2k, G, Lewis/Niall, Friends to Lovers, Mutual Pining, Idiots in Love, Banter, Listen this fic is short but packed to the brim with feels, omgggggg SO MANY FEELS, and so so lovely the way it comes together, but also hilarious too?, it’s just very THEM, I could also hear all the lines Lewis says in this fic in his accent, I heard his voice speaking them in my head, and I was trying so hard not to laugh out loud as I sat reading, surrounded by strangers lmao, It was so awkward but worth it)

Caves End by @jacaranda-bloom / jacaranda_bloom (40k, E, Harry/Louis, Big Bang fic, Famous/Non-Famous, Farmer Louis, Rancher Louis is maybe better?, I’ll put both cause Dee said farmer lmao, Footballer Harry, Australia fic, Horseback Riding, Angst, Miscommunication, Dee’s tags about that are hilarious please read them, Hurt/Comfort, This fic is just EVERYTHING, okay, It was so incredibly good)

and all I think about is you and safer by your side (parts 4 and 5 of where the lights are beautiful) by @polkadotlou / twoshipsdrifting (1k each, T, Harry/Louis, Alternate Universe, A/B/O, Alpha Harry, Omega Louis, Established Relationship, Mentions of Heat, Drabbles, Listen this whole series is amazing, and if you haven’t read it then these drabbles won’t have the same power they do otherwise, but they are SO DAMN GOOD OKAY)

Counterculture by @sadaveniren / SadaVeniren (6k, E, Harry/Louis, Omega Harry Fest, A/B/O, Omega Harry, Alpha Louis, Famous/Non-Famous, Underground Clubs, Pack Dynamics, Scenting, Public Sex, Orgies, Pregnancy and Lactation Kink, Like... this fic is FILTHY while still having super cool worldbuilding elements in it, and it’s kinky as shit cause Sada, In other words this is fantastic)

Say Something by @kingsofeverything / kingsofeverything (105k, E, Harry/Louis, Alternate Universe, A/B/O, Alpha Louis, Omega Harry, Older Harry, Age Difference, Heat/Rut Partners, Friends to Lovers, Kind of?, It’s Complicated lol, MPreg, Divorced Harry, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Harry has a lot of shit to work through, It all works out and it’s so fucking good)

The Until Series by @allwaswell16 / allwaswell16 (62k total, Harry/Louis (parts 1 and 3), Niall/Shawn (Part 2), Big Bang fic and Heartbreak Weather Fest fic, Song Fic, Seriously the whole albums is basically the inspiration lol, Cowboy Harry, Child Actor Harry, Cowboy Shawn, Songwriter Louis, Singer Niall, Farm Fic, Enemies to Lovers, Misunderstanding, So good just all of it, Dumb boys in love lol)

That Smile and That Midnight Laugh by @uhoh-but-yeah-alright / yeah_alright (50k, T, Harry/Louis, but also Harry/Nick at the beginning, Big Bang fic, Girl Direction, Based on Ferris Bueller’s Day Off, It’s like an extension and starts where the movie ended, So cool in that way I loved it, Grimmy and Louis are step-siblings, Friends to Lovers, No Cheating if that’s a concern, Sexuality Crisis but it’s more of like a Gay Awakening, Coming of Age story in that way, So freaking soft like omg, I just really freaking loved this fic)

#mine #fic rec #my fic rec #28th appreciation #fic writer appreciation #fic list #may 2021 fic list

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tangledstarlight · 3 years

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Written for Day Two of Jukebox Appreciation Week: Alternative Universe –– @jukebox-week

here is my, somewhat anticipated, firefighter!luke au. this got. so long guys. i’m so sorry. it became a 5+1 and i lost control. this all started because i wanted to see luke do a pole slide and i didnt even fit it in smh. also check out this amazing art by mamirugbee if you get the chance too!! anyway, much love!! enjoy!!

also on ao3!

lil disclaimer: i’ve never been to la and i’m not a firefighter, i tried to do as much research as i could but firefighter forums aren’t helpful as you’d expect for somethings, who knew! so take everything with big dose of suspension of belief please!

trigger warnings! mentions of blood & injuries (nothing graphic), lots of swearing, fire.

RATED T –– there’s no graphic scenes but there’s a lot of kissing and fading to black, so rating might change if anyone needs me to 😬

Word count: 21,184

ONE

When he was a kid Luke had had a lot of dream jobs.

There was a week when he’d wanted to be a landscape gardener after watching too many renovation shows during a week off school sick. When he was eleven he’d seriously considered being a doctor for approximately two days after watching too many reruns of ER with his mom, but it was quickly pointed out to him that he would need to go school for years. And he’d given serious consideration into being a professional bungee jumper, which he still maintains is a real career path and he’d have been excellent at it.

But then he’d discovered music when he was thirteen when his parents had given him a guitar for his birthday, and that had been it.

That was his dream.

To stand on a stage and play for an audience and create a connection with the world. And he’s pretty sure he could have done it. It would have been the dream he reached.

But then the garage they rented to rehearse caught fire while he was asleep on the ratty old sofa they’d found on the street. And maybe the fire itself wouldn’t have been enough to make him change his dreams, but everything that happened afterwards?

Well, there’s nothing like almost dying to reorder your life, right?

(It’s the story he tells everyone if they ask, it’s the one he almost believes too.)

The owners of the house had left a candle burning or forgot to unplug a toaster or something mundane and silly like that. Something that people always warn about but never think will happen to them. He doesn’t know. He can’t remember.

All he knows is he’d been sleeping on the sofa and the garage had gotten warm and he’d woken up to a room full of smoke. There had been a moment of panic, as he sat frozen, chest having and eyes stinging, before he’d jumped up, grabbed his guitar, his notebook, his phone and ran outside.

Luke remembers watching the flames grow higher and higher in the garage, smoke following after him from the door he’d just run from. He remembers watching them seem to jump from the roof of the house to the garage. He remembers seeing Mrs Anderson running up to him, the oldest daughter trailing behind with wide eyes, and asking for his phone. He remembers fishing it from his pocket and dialing 911. He remembers the moment he heard the line click, a voice asking him a question as his eyes locked on the house and he saw two hands hitting at the upstairs window.

After that he doesn’t really remember much of anything, he tells everyone.

Except that he does.

He can still remember the heat on his skin, how he’d been grateful for once that he’d fallen asleep in his coat. He remembers his lungs aching as he sucked in smoke and coughed it back out. He remembers a split second decision. Guitar and notebook falling to the ground and running into the house as Mrs Anderson screamed something behind him.

He remembers, as he tried to cover his mouth, his nose, with the sleeve of his coat, thinking that this would be an awful way to die. He remembers not wanting to. He remembers, as he kicks down the jammed door of the youngest kids bedroom, how he really wanted to hug his mom again. He remembers someone screaming and his name being called and throwing a blanket over his head, a weight in his arms he doesn’t remember picking up. He remembers flames and heat and wet tears on his neck and gasping for breaths and then he really doesn’t remember anything at all.

Until he wakes up in a hospital bed and his mom is in the chair next to him and it hurts a little to breathe and there’s bandages on his arms but he’s alive and Luke’s pretty sure that’s the important part to remember.

It’s the part he remembers when the doctors say he can’t play his guitar for a couple of weeks while the skin on his hands and arms heals, that he should avoid straining his voice for a while. It’s the part he remembers when they pick through the rubble and burnt out remains of the garage he’d called home for the last few weeks. It’s the part he remembers when Alex and Reggie tell him it’s okay that they take a break from ‘breaking into the music scene’ while he heals and they find a new place to rehearse and replace their equipment.

It’s the part he remembers when the Anderson’s show up at his parents house with flowers and a basket of snacks and thank him.

He’s alive and they’re alive and part of that is down to him.

And it’s that bit that keeps tripping him up. No one has ever called him a hero before, but that kid does. The youngest Anderson that he’s shared maybe five words with before running into a burning building to carry out. He’d called him a hero and hugged him and Luke had spent the next hour trying to figure out what that meant to him.

Music was his dream. He was pretty sure it was his heart and his soul and everything in between. But it hurts to talk for the first few days after and it hurts to sing for a few weeks after that and, without really noticing it, he ends up back at school. And then he’s graduating and Alex is going to UCLA and Reggie decides he wants to be a teacher and the band is at a stand still.

And Luke— doesn’t mind as much as he thought he would. Doesn’t mind putting this dream on hold while he maybe explores something new. Something he’d never even thought about before.

(And if telling people about the fire kept them from asking why he no longer sang, well, that was a bonus. He nearly died, that was a good enough reason to reorder anyone's life. Right? They didn’t need to know about his performance issues.)

The point was, Luke had once dreamt of playing music to the world and leaving a mark, something to be remembered by.

And then he’d nearly died and music had to wait and he...found a new sort of dream. It wasn’t exactly making a connection with everyone but for the couple of minutes he was carrying someone out of a burning building? It was a connection that would leave a mark, at least for a little while. And it really didn’t hurt that people seemed to love a man in a firefighter uniform.

But just because his dream of playing music didn’t come true didn’t mean he didn’t still love it. Which was why standing outside the burning record store was really hurting his heart.

“Do we know if there’s anyone inside?” He calls over to his captain who’s already directing people around, but Luke’s eyes are on the windows of the second floor and the smoke he can already see against the glass.

“Not that we—” the words have barely left Harrison’s mouth when they both see a face through the smoke and hands banging on the glass. Whoever it is looks like they try opening the window but nothing happens and their knocking on the glass gets more frantic.

“Roof, window or stairs?” He asks, already flipping his visor down and checking the straps across his waist holding everything important.

“Stairs, they’ve cleared the side entrance. Try to come out the same way you go in this time, Patterson. And take Danforth,” she waves one hand in the air but Luke is already heading towards the side of the building, his mind already ten steps ahead.

Get to the door. Check his oxygen. Check Danforth isn’t about to fuck things up. Count to five in his head and walk inside a burning building..

“Going in now,” he says into his radio, as he nods his head at Danforth and pushes on ahead.

Lukes has been into a lot of fires since that first one when he was seventeen and running on nothing but adrenaline and impulse. But there’s still always a moment after he first steps inside a burning building that feels the same as the first time. A rush of heat, heart pounding, thoughts running wild about how this would be an awful way to die.

Then he sucks in a breath, lets the weight of all his equipment resettle on his body, in his mind, and he gets on with his job.

And sure okay, he still runs mostly on the adrenaline coursing through his veins, but he’s pretty proud to say he thinks things through a little more now.

Mostly.

They make it up the stairs and through the flat's front door with little issue, which is, of course, when the issues decide to show up. He can see why the girl in the window was looking frantic, and swears at the fact no one downstairs had noticed the huge fucking hole in the ceiling.

It stretches from just in front of the door to what he assumes used to be a living room, but half the sofa is hanging down and there’s flames already licking their way up a kitchen bar stool. His eyes scan the room on the other side of the hole, trying to spot the best place to cross and the stranded resident.

“Hello? Fire and rescue, we’re here to get you out!” He doesn’t hear anything for a moment, and then a hand shoots up from behind a table followed slowly by a head of curls.

“Over here,” at least he thinks that’s what she says. It gets cut off by a cough and her head ducking back down.

“I’m coming to you,” he calls, but she either doesn’t hear or can’t ankowldge it, but that’s fine. Luke just needs to know where she is. He backs up a step, looks back at the hole in the floor and backs up another, and then he runs, jumps, lands with a thud that echoes up his legs.

There’s a cracking sound behind him, and Luke turns in time to see part of the floor where he’d just been standing start to give away as flames leap up and smoke clouds the area, while Danforth hops backwards to avoid taking a fall. He can see wide eyes through the screen of his visor and Luke reaches up to tap the button on the talkie, inclining his head towards the door as he speaks.

“Better tell Harrison I’m coming out the window.” He shoots the other man a grin before turning back to his job at hand. Find the stuck girl, go out a window, hopefully make it home before Reggie eats all of Alex’s leftover lasagna. Oh he hopes there’s still some garlic bread left over too. Or maybe he can convince Alex to whip some up for them, that man knows how to make a good garlic bread. Little cheese on top. Some of the fancy salad he steals from work. Maybe Willie will be over and he’ll have bought dessert.

Luke’s planned out his ideal menu for the evening, and breakfast the next day, by the time he makes his way carefully across the crumbling floor and is kneeling down across from a girl whose face is mostly obscured by wild curls and a damp towel. Someone paid attention during a fire talk, he thinks.

“Hey, are you hurt?”

It’s only four years worth of training and feeling the heat of flames slowly getting closer that stop Luke from completely blanking on his job as wide brown eyes meet his through his visor. There’s a streak of soot on one of her cheeks and he catches sight of unshed tears pooling in her eyes. She’s looking up at him with a mix of fear and worry and what he really hopes is gratitude and a large part of his mind knows this isn’t the right time, but holy crap, Luke’s pretty sure she might be the prettiest girl he has ever seen.

“No,” she coughs out, shaking her head and Luke blinks. Pulling his thoughts back to the issue at hand. The fire, the falling floor, the window, the— was she wearing monster slippers? He bites back a smile even as his eyebrows tick up, just a little.

“Let's get you out of here, yeah?” He ducks his head to catch her eyes and make sure she’s heard him. “You ever jumped out a window before?”

The girl's eyes widen a fraction as they dart towards the window she hadn’t been able to open and when they dart back to him there’s a determined glint mixed with the fear.

“Wait here, I’m gonna make sure we’ve got a soft place to land,” he pushes himself back up and over to the window, gives it an experimental tug and frowns. Someone has painted the window shut, which is bad for fire safety, but great for him being able to show off a little and smash a window. Luke unhooks the axe from his belt just as his radio crackles to life.

“Which window are you coming out of Patterson?” Harrison’s voice comes through and Luke can picture the way she’d probably sighed in resignation when Danforth had turned up outside with his news. He was always being told off about coming out through a window when it wasn’t a part of the plan. Turning slightly so he’s standing side on, Luke raises his arm and swings the axe at the glass. Someone shouts from below and he hears the girl let out a gasp over the sound of shattering glass.

“This one,” he says, holding down the button on his radio and reattaching his axe in one movement before leaning out the window to see them pulling the large inflatable cushion to below the window he’s standing at. He wishes the bigger ladder truck hadn’t been redirected across town, it was much more badass to help a pretty girl down a ladder then it was to push them out a window and say ‘jump’. He waits until someone shoots him a thumbs up and turns back into the apartment.

“Alright, let's get out of here shall we?” Luke says, holding out a hand to help her up, there’s a second of hesitation before she drops the towel she’s holding and reaches up to grab it. He notices the bag she’s clutching to her chest and idly wonders what she’s deemed important enough to save from a fire. He’s been doing this job long enough now to know that everyone has different priorities. Some are more questionable than others.

“Wait,” she pulls her hand out of his grasp as they reach the window and she leans out, “You’re serious about jumping out? I thought you had like ladders or something! I can’t— I—”

“Woah hey, hey,” he puts a hand on her back as she tries to back up into the room and Luke is conscious of the fire still raging, eating away at the floor, and he knows there’s no time, but sometimes people just need a little reassurance, “It’s okay. What’s your name?”

She looks up at him and there’s tears streaking through the soot on her skin as she breathes in shallowly, “Julie.”

“Alright Julie. Normally we do have a ladder, and I know it looks scary but this is perfectly safe. I promise. It’s like jumping onto a giant cushion. Kinda fun if you forget about the fire.”

She still looks unsure, head shaking slowly as her grip on the bag tightens and Luke ducks his head, and even though he knows he shouldn’t, he flips up his visor so she can see him better.

“I know we’ve just met and you have no reason to trust me, but I’m going to ask you to trust me anyway. It’ll just be a shortfall and a bounce. Over before you even remember to be scared,” he can feel his lips tugging into what he hopes is a reassuring smile. Julie’s eyes track over his face quickly before she shuts them tightly and nods once.

“Okay. Okay. I’m jumping out a window. Sure. This is fine,” she mutters and Luke grins, flipping his visor back down and slowly helps Julie up onto the window sill before she can change her mind.

“I’m gonna keep hold of this alright?” he gently extracts the bag from her fingers and secures it over his shoulder before helping Julie sit on the sill and jumps up to join her, legs dangling in the open air. “Short fall and a bounce. You got this,” he squeezes her hand that’s gripping the window frame as she flinches at the sound of something falling behind them. “Ready?”

She whispers something that he doesn’t quite catch but nods her head, squeezes his hand back and jumps. There’s a rush of air, Julie sucking in a breath somewhere next to him, and then he’s hitting something, body being absorbed by something cold and bouncing once, twice, and then settling.

Despite the fact he’d just told Julie that there was nothing scary about jumping out of the window, Luke always felt a spike of fear in the first second he’s airborne. There’s a moment, just a single moment, where he worries that this time he won’t hit the ground again. That he’ll float away. It’s illogical and crazy, and Luke knows that. But he still worries. The same way he always worries that this burning building will be the one he doesn’t walk back out of.

For a moment, Luke just lies there. He lost Julie’s hand somewhere in the fall but he can hear her breathing somewhere nearby and slowly the sounds of his crew start coming back to him and he blows out a breath and gets back to work.

One of the bonuses to being the person to jump out of a burning building is that Luke doesn’t have to help deflate and put away the cushion. The downside is that he has to spend twenty minutes with one of the paramedics as they check him over.

No matter how many times he tells them he’s fine. You lie about bruising a rib one time and no one lets you forget it.

“Are we done here?” He asks as the paramedic finally doesn’t swat his hand away as he takes his oxygen mask off and Luke tries really hard to not let his leg bounce too obviously.

“Any sign of issues—” they start but Luke is already pushing up from the back of the ambulance, shooting the paramedic a two fingered salute and picking up the bag he’d dropped by the back tire when he’d been told to sit. It’s only a short journey to the gurney on the other side of the vehicle and the girl lying on it with her eyes tight shut and holding a phone to her ear, though he thinks it’s more for comfort then actually talking given she’s still got an oxygen mask over her mouth.

He approaches slowly, trying for a gentle smile as her eyes snap open and lock directly with his. He holds her bag up, and fully intends to just leave it by her side and get back to work — no matter how much he so desperately wants to talk to her again, even though he’s not sure why, but he’ll think about that later — but she pulls the mask away from her face and smiles back at him.

“Flynn just hold on,” she rasps and there’s a slight wince on her face as she realises how saw her throat is, Luke slowly approaches the side of the gurney and gives her what he hopes is a sympathetic smile. He remembers how shitty a smoke hurt throat can be.

“I gotta get back to my crew but I just wanted to check in,” he says, resting an elbow on the metal railing and pretending the way his eyes rack over her face and body is simply to check for injuries — though he’s glad to see the monster slippers survived the fire and the fall —, before he licks his lips once, and holds her bag up for her see, “and to make sure you got this back.”

Julie takes her bag with a relieved sigh that Luke might think more about if their fingers didn’t brush slightly in the transfer and leave him wishing he hadn’t been wearing gloves when he’d held her hand as they jumped out of a burning building.

Which right. Burning building. Almost dying. Being scared. Priorities Luke!

He clears his throat and smiles again, a little softer as his eyes linger on her face. Someone has wiped away the worst of the soot from her cheeks and forehead, but there’s still streaks of it across her skin. And she’s looking at him with the same sort of grateful look that he’s seen countless times before, and he swears there’s something else. But she had nearly died, and he’d helped save her. His job here was done. A connection with someone that would last long after she forgot his face or his name.

“I should uh—” he points over his shoulder with his free hand, taps along the side of the gurney once, twice before breathing out, “I’m glad you’re okay.”

He only manages to take a step back and turn around before Julie is coughing out, “Wait!”

Luke doesn’t hesitate to spin around and back to her, eyes quick to scan her face to see what might be wrong, “What’s wrong? Are you hurt?”

“No I just—” she coughs again, and Luke reaches across to slide the oxygen mask back on her face, keeping a careful eye on how many breaths she takes before she slides it off again, about to say something when she beats him to it, “Sorry. I just. I wanted to thank you. For y’know. Saving me. And…” she trails off, biting her lip and for a moment Luke thinks she’s about to start coughing again but with the way she starts avoiding his eyes she realises she’s just putting it off.

“And…?” he prompts, ducking his head slightly to catch her eyes.

“And I realised I didn’t get your name. Which sounds silly now I’ve said it out loud,” she mutters the last part, head hitting the flimsy pillow with a soft thud that makes him grin. Because she wanted to know his name! And it’s not the first time a person he’s saved has wanted to know his name, but it’s the first time a super pretty girl has asked and he’s wanted to tell her.

“It’s Luke,” he says with a grin, taps against the gurney one last time, “Maybe I’ll see you around sometime Julie.”

TWO

Luke had taken up running when he was 19, between jobs and starting to worry all his potential had been burnt up in the same garage fire that had destroyed his favourite couch and stolen his voice at 17.

It had been his dad's suggestion. A way to get him out of the house and doing something that wasn’t moping or waiting for his friends to be finished with classes, he’s sure. But, even after he’d signed up to be a firefighter and had a whole new fitness schedule, running was still his favourite thing to do. He and his dad might have had their issues but he’d been right about needing a way to clear his head when he could no longer write.

And while he no longer really needed to run to clear his head about what he wanted to do with his life, he did need to breathe in fresh air and forget about the damage a fire can cause.

Some days he had more images to forget about then others.

Some days he just wanted to run.

And some days, he needed to get out of the house before Alex force fed him some weird experimental fish dish. Apparently they were testing out a new menu at the restaurant which just meant Alex was testing the food out on him and Reggie and occasionally Willie when the skater couldn’t come up with an excuse quick enough.

So maybe he was running in the park and avoiding one of his roommates. It was still a valid reason. He’d seen grapes being mashed up with paprika and had not been interested in trying it. Reggie and Hotdog could take one for the team.

The route he runs takes him past a duck pond and a bunch of teenagers throwing a frisbee and other people walking their dogs and —

“Fire! Dad! It’s on fire!” A voice from his left screams and Luke’s instincts kick in as he changes the direction he’s running without faltering a step.

It’s one of those stand alone bbq things that parks have dotted around and Alex hates. Something about not being able to properly grill the meat. Luke had given up listening the third time he’d started talking about them, much more concerned about how no one ever checked them over or made sure they were safe to use.

He can see the problem straight away, something has fallen between the grates and caught on the coals, and where it should just be glowing embers and small flames there’s smoke billowing and flames jumping out at the teenage boy frozen in place.

“Hey can I borrow these?” Luke asks as he comes to a stop next to him, carefully extracting the tongs from his grasp before he can respond. It’s not exactly standard protocol or even the safest plan but Luke clicks the tongs together once before darting them into the flames and pulling out whatever was causing the fire and dropping it on the square of concrete that the bbq is planted on. He stops on it a few times until there’s no longer any flames jumping up at him and all that’s left is smoke and what looks like a half burnt cloth.

“Carlos! Are you okay? Are you hurt?”

Luke turns around just as an older gentleman rushes over, eyes darting from the fire Luke has put out, to the still cooking burgers, to the teenager who’s grinning.

“I’m fine,” he reassures his dad and Luke takes the opportunity to shake some ash off the tongs before offering them back to him, “Dude that was so cool! You just stomped out a literal fire!”

Shrugging, Luke rubs at the back of his neck as he shoots the dad a quick smile, “Just doing my job, it was no big deal. Honestly.”

“Your job?” The man asks, head tilted curiously as he accepts the tongs.

“Yeah I’m a fi—”

“Luke?” A voice he hadn’t expected to hear again cuts him off as a girl with a mass of loose curls in a pretty pale yellow sundress skids to a halt in front of them, eyes looking quickly between him and the other two with increasing concern as she seems to notice the burnt ground. “What happened?”

“Julie! I— Hi,” Luke starts and suddenly wishes he was wearing something more flattering than shorts and an old band t-shirt he’d cut the sleeves off of on a whim. He at least wishes he’d had time to shower before she starts to think he just always stinks like smoke and sweat.

“This young man just saved your brother from a flaming napkin,” the man says and there’s a teasing note in his voice as he looks at his son before raising an eyebrow, “You two know each other?”

“Yes. I— well sort of?” Julie says and there’s a slight furrow between her brows, “Luke’s the firefighter who got me out of the apartment.”

“You’re the one who got my Julie out of the fire? And you just saved Carlos too?,” he says, taking a step closer to him and Luke only has time to nod before he’s speaking again, “You must let me thank you! Do you like burgers? You should stay, eat with us.”

“Oh that’s— that’s really kind of you sir but you don’t have to do that. I was literally just doing my job. Both times,” Luke’s quick to say with a shake of his head, but there’s a gleam in the man's eyes that makes Luke pretty sure he’s about to be eating a burger. Which is better than the option waiting for him at home.

“I won’t hear anything of it. You saved my children, the least I can do is offer you some food. And you can call me Ray,” the man — Ray — waits until Luke gives a smile that feels only a little forced before turning back to the bbq and Luke catches him muttering something, “We really should have attended that fire safety course Victoria mentioned.”

Coughing to hide a laugh Luke looks back in time to catch the tail end of a look that Julie shoots at her brother and the way he rolls his eyes before he grins and walks over to his dad. And then it’s just him and Julie. Who apparently told her family about him. Luke bites his bottom lip to try and not smile because of course she’d told her family, she’d nearly died and hadn’t. It was a big deal. It was something you told people. It doesn’t make him special.

Julie’s looking up at him, her head tilted slightly like she’s considering something and he desperately wants to know what’s going on inside her head. But then his eyes glance down and he can’t stop the grin that spreads across his face at the sight of the doodle covered sneakers she’s wearing and how different they are to the monster slippers he’d seen her in last time.

“No slippers today?” the words slip out of his mouth before he can stop them, brows rising as he looks pointedly at the sneakers on her feet and back up at her.

“Didn’t want to make anyone jealous,” she laughs, but Luke can see a slight flush in her cheeks as she brushes some hair behind her ear and he’s suddenly struck by the urge to do it for her. He’s saved from making an embarrassing move by her next words, “I see you’re not in a uniform today either.”

And, if Luke didn’t know any better he’d say she was upset about that fact if the way her eyes tracked down his body and back up to his face, and if the deepening colour in her cheeks was anything to go by. But why would she be upset about him not wearing his uniform? That thing was heavy and warm. He did not get the fascination.

“They let us wear other clothes sometimes. The uniform can get a little hot,” he grumbles only for his lips to pull up into a slight smirk as he watches the way she bites her lip and avoids his eyes, “Why, disappointed?”

“What? No! I—,” she sucks in a breath and blows it out and Luke watches as she tosses curls over her shoulders and straighten her spine before looking him straight in the eye, and there’s a fierce sense of determination mingling with something like excitement, “I was just thinking how I never got to thank you properly. For helping me out of the building. And how I’d like to do it in a way that doesn’t involve my dad burning burgers in the park.”

Luke blinks and just stares at her because it sounds a little like she’s just asked him out but he doesn’t want to be one of those guys who just assume they’re being asked on a date because of a little life saving. She could just mean a totally harmless thank you coffee and he’s just overthinking it and oh fuck she’s still talking and he’s just gaping at her.

“And I mean it doesn’t have to be a date if you don’t want it to be! I could just buy you a– a doughnut or something. Wait, that’s police isn’t it? Shit what do you buy firefighters? Do you have a stereotypical food? That’s not the point. I—” she sucks in a breath like she’s about to ramble on some more when Luke’s mind finally catches up and he grins at her, reaching out to catch one of her hands that had started waving through the air mid spiel.

“Julie. I would really fucking love to go to dinner with you.”

Her eyes light up as she looks from where he’s still holding her hand, their fingers somehow becoming interlocked and Luke doesn’t know if he did it or if she did but she doesn’t seem to mind and neither does he. It kinda feels right.

“So dinner. So I can thank you, and we can… get to know each other,” she sounds a little shy as she says it and Luke squeezes her hand.

“It’s a date.”

He gets to the restaurant ten minutes early and Luke’s pretty sure it’s the first time he’s been early for something since they had the chance at playing at an under 21s club when he was 16. He hadn’t even been early for his first day at the station.

But for a date with Julie Molina? On time wasn’t even an option.

There was just something about her that made him want to show up early, to wear his fanciest shirt, to comb his hair. She made him feel alive in a way he hadn’t in a long time — which he’s pretty sure says something about a guy who runs into fires for a living and maybe he’ll think more on that later — and so far he’d only really met her twice.

And one of those times probably shouldn't count, given all the fire.

But his point still stood. There was something special about Julie that meant she deserved him dressing up and bearing Alex’s teasing and having to gently push Hotdog away before she left hairs all over his pants.

For half a second, as he stands in the doorway of the restaurant, eyes glancing around before landing solidly on Julie in a booth against the wall, Luke wonders if she thinks he’s special enough to not be on time for too. And then he blinks, and she’s waving a hand at him and he remembers he’s pretty ordinary in the scheme of things and Julie is probably just a very punctual person.

“Hi,” he breathes as he slides into the booth on the opposite side of the table from her, noticing her bag and jacket filling the empty space between them and then the way her fingers are fidgeting with one of the cloth napkins on the table, “Sorry I’m late. You look really nice.”

Because she’s wearing a dark blue dress with little stars stitched into it in silver thread that glints under the lights of the restaurant, and her curls look bouncier, if that was even possible, with some pulled back at her temple with clips. And she looks more than nice, but Luke’s already said nice now so he can’t take it back, can he? Oh no, he’s spiralling.

“Oh. I’m just…early,” she trails off, giving a small shrug and shooting him a smile that he doesn’t hesitate to return and he doesn’t know if it’s him smiling or just the fact he’s shown up or — what, but Julie’s fingers still on the napkin as she seems to settle more in herself, and she blows out a breath before smiling at him, “You look nice too. You’ve got...sleeves today.”

Luke can’t help it, he blushes, a laugh working it’s way past his lips as he rubs at the back of his neck, trying to play it off cool only to promptly give up when he catches sight of the way Julie is trying to bite back a smile at his reaction; because making her smile is quickly becoming one of his favourite things. And hopefully, if tonight goes well, he can spend a long time making her smile, and more.

“You’ve seen me with sleeves more than without,” he points out and this time it’s Julie’s turn to blush a little, ducking her eyes.

“Well your arms certainly make an impression,” she mutters with a roll of her eyes at him. But it’s hampered by the blush still on her cheeks and Luke grins, nudging her ankle with his foot under the table.

“Have you been here before? I looked up the menu but couldn’t decide what looked good,” Luke says, letting the topic of his arms drop for now. Though if all goes well he’ll make sure to bring it up at another time.

“My tia says they do a really nice tagliatelle,” she replies, picking up her own menu and letting her eyes glance at it before back up at him with a smile.

“This is the tia who makes the really good um,” Luke bites his lip as he tries to recall the conversation from yesterday, snapping his fingers when the word comes back to him, “Tostones! That your dad was talking about?”

The smile that graces her face lights up her eyes, like she hadn’t thought he’d been paying attention to what was said yesterday, or that he wouldn’t remember even if he had been.

“Yeah, that one,” Julie looks back at her menu and Luke follows suit, eyes skimming past all the options but not really taking any of them in. His mind is still stuck on the way she’d smiled at him and how pretty her eyes were when she did.

Their waiter comes and Luke takes her tia’s suggestion and goes with the pasta dish, pretending not to notice the way Julie smiles at him when he does.

“So,” she starts when the guy has gone and they’re alone in their booth again, her hands folded over each other on the table as she looks at him, “Firefighting huh? That must be...I don’t want to say fun but...interesting?” She wrinkles her nose a little, like it’s still not the word she wants to use, and he gets it.

“Interesting is a pretty good word for it. And it can be fun,” he nods, biting his bottom lip as he thinks about it, “When we get to rescue cats or someone's trapped on their roof or something. But it’s intense too. Some days are harder than others to go home from.”

“Is it something you always wanted to do?” There’s honest curiosity in her voice and Luke almost feels bad for laughing after the way it makes her blink in shock.

“No,” he shakes his head, still laughing a little, “I uh I was gonna be a rockstar. Not like kids say they’re going to be,” he’s quick to add as her smile returns, “Me and my best friends, Alex and Reggie, we had a band and we were fucking good. Played our own instruments, wrote our own songs. I think we could have been legends,” his voice trails off as he thinks about it. About that abandoned dream and the scars from it he still holds.

Julie tilts her head at him and he blinks to pull himself back to the present as she speaks, “Can I ask what happened? If it’s too painful or anything you don’t need to tell me I’m just...curious. Don’t hear many people who sound so passionate about lost dreams.”

“Ironically, there was a fire at our rehearsal space and uh, no one was seriously hurt or anything. Everyone got out. But um, I was in hospital for a few days for minor burns and smoke inhalation,” Luke frowns and tries to keep to the facts, no need to wander down that memory lane right now, “I couldn’t play for a few weeks afterwards, and then the first time I tried to sing was about a month later and it...hurt. So I haven’t tried since.”

“How long ago was that?”

“I was 17 so uh seven, nearly eight years ago now,” he hadn’t realised it had been so long. Huh.

Julie blinks at him, her mouth opens only to close again a few times before she seems to find the words she’s looking for, “That’s...wow Luke, that’s a long time. But I— I kind of understand. The being hurt and...scared to sing again.”

Ignoring the way she seems to have caught on to his unspoken truth in being scared about singing, Luke focuses on her own apparent issues. And the fact that she’s apparently a singer. He might have pushed down all his own music related dreams but he’s always had a type.

“Can I ask what happened?”

“My mom died when I was 17,” she gives him a sad smile and Luke’s eyes immediately widen, lips tugging down as he starts to get an idea of the story that’s about to follow.

“I am so sorry Julie. You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to,” and it’s instinct to reach across the table and touch the back of her hand that’s strayed back to the napkin, and it seems to be instinct for her to turn her hand over and link their fingers.

“No, no it’s fine,” she sucks in a deep breath, and lets it out again, keeping her eyes on their interlock fingers, “It was um cancer. And we knew it was coming, so we got the chance to say goodbye. But my mom she was— God she was the best person I knew. She was amazing and my best friend and just this amazingly talented musician who used to be in some badass bands. She taught me to play piano, and a little guitar and we used to sit out in the garage that her and my dad turned into a studio and just — write and play and sing together for hours.”

There’s a pause where she looks lost in a memory of a different life, and Luke lets her have it. Lets her play with his fingers and figure out how much of her past she’s willing to divulge on a first date. Alex is always reminding him that not everyone subscribes to his brand of honesty from the get go. And then she sighs, licking her lips before looking up at him with a small smile that he thinks means thanks.

“After she died I uh I couldn’t play or sing for a long time. Music was just— it was our thing and I didn’t know how to do it without her. So I avoided it at all costs and didn’t sing for nearly three years,” she blows out a breath, shaking her a little at him, “And then I was in the car one day, I don’t know where I was going, but the radio was on and one of my mom's songs came on. I didn’t even think about it, I just… started singing along,” she shrugs one shoulder at him before blowing out a breath and laughing.

“God, sorry. I really brought the mood down huh.”

“Best to get the traumatic backstories out of the way now,” he grins, squeezing her fingers quickly, “But hey, you can’t just mention your mum being in a band and having songs on the radio that casually! Gotta tell me more now. If you want to.”

So she does. She tells him all about Rose and the Petal Pushers and how her tia was the original bassist before life got in the way, how they’d played the club scene in the 90’s and landed a gig at the Orpheum, about the few songs they’d had that landed on the charts and the ones that some classic rock stations would still play. She tells him about the vinyl she’d had of their first album that she hadn’t been able to save from the fire and how her dad had been the one to shoot the cover art. She tells him about teaching music part time to kids while she works on making connections and plans for an album and how much she hates looking at apartments.

In turn Luke tells her all about his parents, and Alex and Reggie and how he saved Hotdog the cat from under a hotdog vendor's cart and had been hiding her in their apartment ever since. They spend too long talking about how she knows of Reggie’s music classes and how she’s been to the restaurant where Alex works too many times to count, and how it’s so weird they’ve never met before an apartment fire. He tells her how Alex and Reggie are his family, how they’d been with him through the loss of music and finding firefighting and how he’d already beat Reg at rock, paper scissors five times to be Alex’s best man when either he or Willie popped the question. He tells her how he can’t play his guitar unless he’s drunk and the place that used to be full of lyrics is silent.

At the end of the night, when their waiter finally gets tired of them hogging a table and asks them to leave, Luke knows enough about Julie to know that if they hadn’t met the way they did then they would have met some other way.

So he kisses her slowly, gently, against the side of her car and knows that she feels whatever it is between them too when she asks if he has plans tomorrow.

He doesn’t. And even if he did, he would cancel them for her.

THREE

“Ugh I love my dad but I have got to find somewhere to live before him and Tia drive me mad,” Julie grumbles through the phone and Luke smiles as he pictures her gripping her steering wheel a little tighter as she struggles with her love for her family and her need for space.

“Still no luck with the apartment hunting, huh?” He asks, hoping the sympathy is evident in his voice even as it’s partly muffled by the way he’s trying to pull a t-shirt over his head at the same time.

“Everything’s either too expensive or too far away from work or just has bad vibes,” she sighs and Luke can faintly hear the ticking sound of an indicator in the background.

“How can a place have bad vibes?” he laughs as he pulls the hem of his shirt down with one hand, closing his locker with his elbow of his other, nodding at Harrison as she raises an eyebrow at him as she walks past and Luke already knows he’s going to be teased today. Much like everyday since he and Julie had officially started dating.

But look, it wasn’t his fault he’d somehow met literally the best person on earth and she’d decided he was worth spending half her time with. Even Alex, Reggie and Willie had agreed that Julie was pretty fucking awesome and way out of his leage and had made him promise not to fuck it up. Which personally, Luke had found a little rude because he had no intentions of fucking things up and full intentions of spending the rest of his life with her.

Which yeah, okay, he knows is a little much after only a few months.

It was why he hadn’t asked her to move in with him. A voice that sounded suspiciously like Alex was in the back of his head reminding him that they’d only been dating for two months, or sixty seven days if you wanted to be exact. Not that he’d been counting or anything. Because that would be weird. It was just— Luke didn’t do casual when it came to relationships. He was either all in or not at all. And he was all in for Julie, and he was like, 75% sure she was all in for him too. But even still, it was too early to ask her to move in. Right? Fuck, he was going to have to go back to his pros and cons list later.

“Trust me, if you’d been in this place you’d know what I mean by bad vibes. Carlos would say it gave him ‘bad ghost tingles’, which I really didn’t understand before today,” she laughs a little before muttering something he doesn’t quite catch and then something he’s pretty sure translates to shoving something somewhere unpleasant and Luke grins to himself. Julie with a little road rage is kind of hot.

“Anyway,” she returns to the conversation and he really wishes he was in the car with her and not across town leaning in a doorway, it’s almost enough to make him start pouting before her next words are crackling through the phone, “Are we still on for dinner tonight after your shift?”

“Yeah!” Luke clears his throat, hand rubbing at the back of his neck at just how quickly and loudly he had agreed to that, but he can hear Julie laughing gently through the phone so he’s not really all that embarrassed, “I mean, yeah as long as you’re still up for it?”

“You said Alex was going through a fusion phase and I really want to see how he’s going to combine Italian and Thai food.”

“Oh I see, so you’re only using me to get close to my chef roommate, huh?” Not that he could blame her. Alex made some pretty great food.

“Don’t be silly, I’m clearly playing the long game and intend to use you to get to play with the sirens on a fire engines,” she giggles and it’s nearly enough to make Luke quit his job to spend the rest of his life trying to make her repeat the sound over and over.

Which is of course when the alarm sounds and people start rushing around him. He hears Julie blow out a breath on her end of the line and for a moment Luke can picture her so clearly. Sitting in her car, hands gripping the wheel and fingers tapping along to whatever melody is stuck in her head, hair tied up because she was going to wash it tomorrow, a little crease between her brows as she concentrated on the road that would deepen every time someone pissed her off. God he— huh. Luke blinks and blows out a breath of his own. If it’s too early to ask her to move in, he knows it’s probably too early to say the thought that just stuck him.

“I gotta,” he rasps, swallows and tries again, “I gotta go. Duty calls. I’ll see you tonight?”

“Eight o’clock. I’ll meet you at yours,” he imagines she’s nodding her head at him, “Be careful out there okay?”

“Always am,” Luke wants to say something else, but Danfroth hurries past him and he’ll be damned if he's not ready first, “Bye Jules.”

He holds on for a few more seconds, to see if she’s going to say anything more but it’s just static and their breathing and a click as they hang up.

His first year at the station there had been a massive ten car pile up on I-5 where the Hollywood freeway decided to join the party. It had been a lot of broken glass and people calling for help and a car hanging over the edge as others started burning. Luke doesn’t remember many of the details of the night. Except that he kind of remembers all of it.

Because his brain hates him and insists on keeping hold of all the traumatic moments in his life no matter how hard he tries to forget them.

He remembers being frozen at first. Gripping the strap of the bag he’d been told to hold as people bumped into him as they’d got straight to work. He’d been 21 and a probie and suddenly thinking he’d made the wrong career choice. He’d been seconds away from bolting when he’d heard a small voice calling for help. And Luke had blinked. Sucked in a breath of cold air and got to work.

It had been a series of reassuring smiles and telling people to cover their eyes and trying to ignore the way some people were covered in more blood than what was left in their bodies. He hadn’t had to deal with the worst of it, not really, but that didn’t mean he didn’t still sometimes wake up having dreamt of blood on roads and pulling people from cars before they blew up.

Now, as he closes the door of the engine and snaps the strap on his helmet closed, Luke thinks he’ll be dreaming of this call for a long time to come. On the plus side, at least this one was taking place in daylight.

“The hell happened?” he mutters.

“Truck lost a wheel and took out three cars in front of them and then another four behind. I think the rest are just collateral damage,” Danforth shrugs as he passes by Luke to open one of the side hatches on the engine.

Something about the way he says it rubs Luke the wrong way but he doesn’t have time to figure it out because Harrison comes up to give them assignments and he’s grabbing the jaws of life and heading into the chaos and the mess.

There’s a moment of calm between him helping get a young man out of a car and arguing with someone from a different station about not scaring already scared people by saying they’re going to cut trapped limbs off, where Luke manages to take a moment to breathe. There’s sweat coating the back of his neck and he knows if he looks close enough he’ll spot blood on his gloves but that's a problem for future him. Right now all he wants is a cold breeze to blow across the freeway and to not see an other person stuck in their car.

“Can we get some help over here please!” Someone shouts and Luke rolls his neck, pushes away from the wrecked car he’d been leaning against and heads towards the voice.

The first thing he sees is a car on its side with something leaking from somewhere it shouldn’t and knows they don’t have long before it makes a bigger problem. The second thing he sees is someone with strangely familiar curls kneeling over a body surrounded by an awful lot of glass.

“We’re gonna need a medic over here!” He calls over his shoulder before closing the distance with a jog and dropping into a crouch next to the young woman with her hands pressed into the side of an older man. Luke’s eyes track from his body to the car and the trail of blood and back to the woman's hands, coated in blood and arms that are shaking.

“Okay, we got him. Did you pull him ou— Julie!?” Luke’s hands falter for a moment as he reaches to replace the woman's hands with a wad of gauze as he finally has a chance to glance up at her face and realises the familiar curls were familiar for a reason. There’s blood on her sweatshirt and a streak across her cheek that’s disturbed by tear tracks and Luke remembers the first time he’d met her, crouching behind her sofa with tears on her cheeks, holding a bag full of song books and photos to her chest, and looking terrified.

She looks scared right now, but not like she had then, a different kind of scared that comes from not knowing if you’re doing enough to save someone.

“I— I pulled him out because the car is leaking gas and I didn’t—” she pauses to suck in a breath, hands balling into fits as she tries to steady them and Luke takes the pause to run his eyes over her and check for any injuries. But she seems fine, which is the important part right now. Well that and doing his job.

“Hey, we got him,” he ducks his head to catch her eyes and waits until she lets out a shallow breath and nods, “You need to go get checked out by a paramedic.”

“I’m fine, it's— it’s not my blood. I wasn’t in the crash, I just got out to help,” she trails off as her eyes follow the path of a pair of paramedics hands that come into view, taking over his job of putting pressure on the wound and Luke rocks back on his heels to let someone else take his place.

“Come on Jules,” he puts one hand on her elbow and slowly pulls her up as he stands too, moving them both out of the way so the paramedics can do their jobs. He waits until they’re lying down a backboard and Julie can see that he’s breathing. That he’s alive they’ve done all that they can and Luke practically feels the breath she lets out, shoulders dropping and her hands finally uncurling as she lets him pull her further away from the scene.

“You’re okay?” Julie asks as they come to a stop near his station's engine, hands reaching out for him only to seem to notice the blood and stop half in the air, and Luke can’t stop the half scoffed laugh that comes out of his throat as he unclips his helmet to pull it off his head to see her better.

“I should be asking you that,” he mutters, raising a hand up only to remember he’s still wearing his gloves and starts to pull one off before trying again, letting his palm cup her cheek, thumb brushing gently over her cheek and taking some of the blood with him. “What were you doing out there? You could have been hurt.”

“That guy was hurt and he needed help,” Julie shrugs a little as she looks up at him with a small twitch of her lips, leaning her cheek in his hand as her lips brushing slightly against the skin of his wrist as she speaks, “You’re out here every day risking your life, Luke. All I did was drag a guy from a car and try to stop him bleeding out.”

“Probably saved his life is what you did,” he blows out a breath and tries to send all his worries and concerns with it. He wonders if this is how his family and friends feel everyday he goes off to work, because it kinda sucks, maybe he should apologise to his mom later. Luke opens his mouth to say something before being cut off.

“Patterson! We got another call, come on,” Harrison interrupts, shooting a quick smile at Julie before looking at him and nodding towards the engine.

“Are you okay to drive? I can get someone to drop you off at mine?” He’s pretty sure someone around here owes him a favour, or he can see if Willie’s free or—

“I’m fine to drive but you’re not going to be finished for four hours. I don’t want to be intruding or anything,” there’s a small frown between her brows that makes Luke grin and want to kiss it away. So he does. He presses his lips to her forehead, and rests like that for a second, two, three.

“They won't get this all cleared for a while but they’ll let you turn around and my place is back the way you came,” he points out as he pulls back a little to be able to see her eyes better, “So, you go back to mine, feel free to use one of Reg’s bath bombs if you want, raid the cupboard next to the fridge for some of Willie’s cookies. Relax. Plus you know where the spare key is, and Reg should be back at about five so if you can’t find anything he’ll be there to help.”

“You sure it’s okay?”

“Go. I’ll be back by eight. Promise. I love you.

They stand like that for a few more seconds, his hand on her cheek and staring into each other's eyes in a way that he’s sure is going to get him teased later on. And then Harrison calls his name again and he rolls his eyes to make Julie laugh and press a quick kiss to his lips. Before he leaves her, he catches someone from the 97 and asks them to make sure she gets out fine. And Julie rolls her eyes at him, but he simply shrugs as he starts to walk backwards with a grin.

It’s not until he’s sat in his seat, headset on and clutching his helmet that he realises he’s just said he loves her. Oh fuck.

As the door clicks shut behind him the first thing Luke notices is Hotdog waiting by the pile of shoes for him like she does every Tuesday when he gets home.

The second is the smell of onions and garlic, which means Alex is home and cooking dinner and he hadn’t realised how hungry he was.

The third thing is the sound of Julie’s laughter mixing with Reggie’s and Willies and Alex’s voice trying to sound offended. And Luke smiles to himself as he kicks off his shoes, drops his bag and bends down to pick up Hotdog, fingers scratching under her chin as he thinks about how all of this is something he could get very used to.

Plus, if Julie’s here it means he hadn’t scared her off with his spontaneous declaration earlier. Which is good.

“...found her behind the bookcase in Reggie’s room like, 3 hours later!” Alex finishes saying as Luke strolls into the kitchen with said hide and seek champion in his arms.

“Are we talking about the first or the second time Reg couldn’t find her?” He asks leaning his elbow on the back of the chair Julie is sitting in and drops a quick kiss to her lips as she turns her head to smile up at him. She’s retied her hair up and all traces of smoke and sweat and blood are gone from her skin, leaving her smelling like peaches, so Luke’s going to guess she took him up on the bath bomb offer.

“Hey,” he whispers as he pulls away to run his eyes over her face, pretty sure she’s doing the exact same thing to him.

“I’m still fine. Better even. You have a really great bath,” she says, quite enough that only he hears, and he definitely doesn’t miss the suggestive tone that makes him bite his lip before he says something not appropriate for present company. Instead he settles for poking her lightly between the shoulder blades and letting his fingers trail up from her shoulders to her neck to idly play with a loose curl at the nape of her neck. Biting down on the smirk that’s threatening to take over his face, Luke turns his attention back to his boys and the times Reggie has lost their cat.

“Wait, you lost her more than once?” Willie stares pointedly at Reggie who pauses in his cutting up of vegetables to smile a little sheepishly at them all.

“Hey, Alex is the one who freaked out thinking she was blind when she just didn’t give a fuck about the laser pointer!”

“That’s not even—” Alex starts, turning around and pointing his spoon at Reggie only to sigh and shake his head before turning to look at Luke with a raised brow and a look in his eyes that he doesn’t understand in relation to his next words, “Okay, moving on. Put out many fires today?”

Luke rolls his eyes at him because ever since he’d started his firefighter training six years ago Alex had been asking him the same question every night he came home. It was tradition at this point. So he adjusts his position so Hotdog can jump from his arms to the ground and make her way over to Willie before he answers so he has full range of movement for his dramatic retelling of his day. He only gets as far as lifting one arm to point at his friends before he’s cringing and lowering it again, instead holding up his index finger and nodding towards the bathroom.

“Actually, let me shower first. There was a whole incident with vinegar at a store earlier,” he waves away confused looks and drops one eye in a wink as he starts to back out of the room, “All will be answered soon.”

He tries to shower quickly, but gets caught up in scrubbing his hands through his hair and letting the hot water pound on the tight muscles on his back for longer than he’d like to admit. Someone he’d carried down five flights of stairs had once told him that he carried too much tension in his shoulders, like he was carrying a bunch of burdens and shit that he needed to let go. At the time he’d just said it was because his equipment was heavy. Now he’s starting to think that they might have been on to something.

Only problem is that he doesn’t really know what his burdens are or how to let them go so he just keeps ignoring them in hope they’ll sort themselves out.

Turning the water off and wrapping a towel around his waist Luke wipes condensation off the mirror as he grabs another towel to rub over his hair quickly, pushing still damp strands out of his eyes. He can still hear the boys talking faintly in the kitchen and doesn’t have a chance to wonder where Julie might be when he picks up a voice singing from his room. It’s something from a musical he thinks, something that she’s been working on with the kids she teaches for the last few weeks and Luke feels bad for them because how could they possibly compare to her voice?

Luke leans his shoulder against the doorframe, arms crossed on his bare chest as he watches Julie move around the other side of his room, picking through the books and cd’s he has stacked haphazardly on a bookshelf. She has her head tilted a little to the side as she reads the spine of something, shoulders moving up and down as she skips through a verse to hit the chorus again, hips swaying in a pair of his dark jogging bottoms that she’s had to turn up several times at the bottom. He hadn’t realised before that she was wearing his clothes, that she must have relaxed in the bath and then rooted through his drawers to find his softest pants and comfiest looking t-shirt. It must be a newish one, he thinks, because it’s still got sleeves attached and he can’t recognise it from the back. God he kind of loves to see her in his clothes.

The frame of the door starts to dig a little uncomfortably into his shoulder and he hisses a little as he pushes away, grabbing Julie’s attention who looks over her shoulder at him her mouth turning up into an almost coy smile as her eyes track down his body. His eyes brows raise a little as he grins back at her, pushing further away from the door to walk towards her only too falter as she fully turns around and —

Luke sucks in a sharp breath as he finally gets to see the t-shirt she’s wearing. He had forgotten he still had it. Cheap white material that was soft until you washed it once and it turned like paper, but when they’d been sixteen with their only money coming from allowances and busking, it was the best they could afford. He can still remember Reggie spending painstaking hours designing their logo, testing out different versions of the curve and font styles before settling on that one. And then the three of them spent even more hours carefully transferring the logo onto cheap t-shirts.

He hadn’t really thought about those t-shirts for a long time. He didn’t know if the others even still had any left. He didn’t know why he even still had one. The thing hadn’t fit him in years, like the second he’d given up on singing and music the t-shirt had grown too small for him. Or he’d just grown too big for it.

“Are you okay?” Julie asks, and he doesn’t know when she has moved, but suddenly she’s in front of him and Luke is getting a clear, up close view of his old band's shirt on her. 17 year old Luke would be losing his mind at the sight. Actually, 24 year old Luke is kind of losing his mind at the sight.

“Yeah just—” his voice cracks a little and he swallows, trying not to notice the way she’s biting her lip to stop a smile, “Not seen that t-shirt in a long time.”

“Oh?” she hums looking down at her chest, pulling slightly at the hem so she can see the logo a bit better before looking back up at him from beneath her lashes, “Reggie did say you might be a little surprised by it. I can take it off if you want?”

Fuck. He kind of wants to kill his friends for not warning him. Kind of wants to not be thinking about anyone but Julie for the next half an hour at least.

“It looks much better on you then it did on any of us,” he mutters, one hand coming up to lightly trace the lettering across the fabric.

“So you want me to keep it on?”

“Did they say how long dinner would be?” He asks as his fingers move from tracing the letters to up following the curve of her collarbone gently, lips ticking up on one side as she shivers.

“Twenty minutes,” she breathes, arching her neck to give his fingers more skin to explore and letting her breath fan across his lips as her fingers drop to the edge of his towel, using a fingernail to trace his hip bone. He’d want to talk about what he said earlier, to see if she felt the same but there’d be time for talking later.

“Keep the shirt on.”

FOUR

Luke really fucking hates working nights.

It’s a fact Alex is always laughing at him for, because of them all he’s always had the worst sleeping habits, had always been known to be up in the middle of the night doing something else. But that was by choice. This is because he needs money to pay rent and buy food and take Julie on nice dates.

Which is his newest reason for hating working nights.

He misses spending time with Julie. Being on opposite schedules really fucking sucks.

At this point he’d even take just getting to hug her, to watch something crappy on tv and fall asleep together in the same bed.

Logically, Luke knows that Harrison hadn’t been aware of what stage his relationship with Julie was at, but a part of him truly believes she had scheduled his turn of nights just as they’d gotten past that awkward stage of not knowing if they could stay over at each others place and where hitting the stage of leaving a toothbrush and saying ‘I love you’ when they said goodbye. And hello. And just anytime one of them felt like it.

Harrison couldn’t have known, but he’s going to blame her for not getting to see his girlfriend in daylight for the last week anyway. And when he starts to feel bad for blaming Harrison he’ll find a way to blame Danforth instead.

“You’re extra grumpy today,” Alex comments as he stirs something in a pot on the stove, watching the way Luke dumps cream into this coffee and grunting at the way his favourite bowl is still dirty in the sink from yesterday.

“I hate the night shift,” he mutters, giving up on his hunt for cereal and pulling a box of leftover pasta from the fridge instead.

“If you wait five minutes you can have some of this.” Luke doesn’t even have a chance to say anything before Alex is pulling the container away from him and is left with no other choice but to wait.

“Something is smelling good!” Reggie breezes into the kitchen with the air of someone who has been up for hours and is preparing to wind down for the evening. Luke kind of wants to throw something at him for it, and might have tried if he didn’t spot a ball of fur purring away on his shoulder, “What’s going on with Mr McPouty?”

“He’s not seen Julie in a week. I think he’s having withdrawals,” Alex whispers loudly as he spoon what Luke thinks is risotto into a bowl and slides it across to him.

“Can’t say I blame him, we went for coffee yesterday between classes? Man Julie’s so cool! And did you know her dad's this, like, semi famous photographer?” Reggie gushes and it takes everything in Luke not to pout even more at the fact Reggie got to hang out with Julie and he didn’t, “She says hi by the way.”

“Fuck off,” he mutters, flipping Reggie off as he starts laughing and pulling a fork out of the drawer closest to him, it does nothing to dissuade his boys from their laughter and Luke can’t find it in himself to care.

He’s tried and he misses Julie. He’s allowed to be grumpy about it.

“Anyway, you can’t talk to me about being grumpy. Remember when Willie went to that competition thing in San Diego and you didn’t see him for two days?” Luke points his fork at Alex and is rewarded with him having the decency to flush a little at the memory.

“Oh yeah! You lonely baked like, fifty cupcakes!” Reggie grins, snapping his fingers and leans in to whisper to Hotdog, “Two of your parents are lovesick fools. But it’s okay, because Julie and Willie are super cool. I’m sorry I didn’t properly prepare you though, I thought we’d have more time.”

“If I wasn’t so tired I’d take offence at you insinuating we’d never get partners,” Luke grumbles, shoving a fork full of risotto into his mouth and shooting Reggie a half hearted sort of glare.

“Well I’m not tired so I take full offence to it! And stop lying to Hotdog about us!” Alex steps away from the stove, picking up some cooked chicken to toss towards Hotdog, grinning at the way Reggie sputters in protest as she tries to climb his face to catch them.

He knows Alex and Reggie are still bickering around him but he lets it all fade into the background as he eats and thinks about what Reggie had said. Because he wasn’t strictly wrong. Luke's last serious relationship had been at least four years ago and had lasted a month before things had just...fizzled out. And yeah there’d been the occasional girl since, but nothing serious. Nothing like what he felt for Julie.

She made him want to pick up a pen and write again. She made him want to look at old dreams he’d pushed aside out of fear. Which was a kind of terrifying thought in itself. Because Luke hadn’t thought about that dream of standing on a stage and playing music he wrote and making a connection to everyone in a long time. Not since he’d left the hospital after a house fire and the first time he’d tried to sing a month later his throat had felt like it was bleeding. So he’d pushed that dream down and found a new one and had avoided looking at it ever since.

Until Julie.

With her stunning voice and captivating laugh and blinding smile. Until she’d dragged him to a silly open mic night and handed him a guitar and just asked him to back her up.

Luke hadn’t told the boys about it.

That he’d stood on a stage and played while a crowd cheered. He didn’t know what it meant. Wasn’t even sure if it could be classed as progress if he hadn’t actually sang anything. But playing something for someone that wasn’t him was something, right?

He chews thoughtfully at a piece of chicken and looks between Alex and Reggie who have moved on from bickering to discussing weekend plans. Maybe he should tell them, they’d probably have some helpful insight into his problems.

Or they might just call him dumb and point out it’s been seven years and his throat is fine and he’s not had any problems talking since two weeks after leaving the hospital and he’s just been a coward. Damn he needed to get Alex and his stupid logical voice out of his head.

“Dude,” Reggie cuts through his thoughts, frowning at his phone screen, “You’re gonna be late if you don’t get ready soon.”

Luke squints at the screen as Reggie turns it towards him and nearly chokes on the bite food in his mouth as he pushes out of his chair and picking up his bowl as he goes, “Fuck!”

Luke slams the door of the fire alarm panel shut as the beeping and sprinklers in the restaurant finally stop and he’s left with a slight ringing in his ear and water soaking into his back. Which is bad. Because it means he’s torn his coat at some point and is going to need to sort that out before their next call. He’s glad he found out on a false alarm rather than while being in a burning building though, better a slightly damp back to being burnt.

“Alarms off, I’m going to do a sweep through,” he holds down the button on his radio and waits for the crackling to die down and Harrisons voice to filter through a confirmation.

False alarms are his least favourite calls, which he knows is bad, but he likes a little action in his night. If he’s going to be stuck on the night shift he at least wants to be doing something more than opening storage closets to check there’s no one trying to wait out a fire.

He hums the theme tune of some 90’s sitcom he can’t remember the name of as he walks down the short corridor between the kitchen and the main dining area, glancing in the men's room and the ladies and pauses a moment too long as he looks in the disabled toilet.

The last time he’d been out for a meal it had been an awful group event that Alex had made them all go to for one of the waiters at his restaurant. The food had all been weirdly sticky and they kept playing a questionable remix of Bless the Broken Road and the biggest bright spot of the whole evening had been when everyone was wandering around talking, Julie had dragged him down a corridor and into a bathroom.

Letting the door shut, Luke lets out a slight groan as he moves away from the corridor and back towards the main entrance. As if he wasn’t missing Julie enough already. He just had to go and remember that evening.

“Place is clear. It looks like a wire got loose but they’ll need to get someone in to check all the detectors. It didn’t seem like the sprinklers were really doing their job in the kitchen,” Luke reports to Harrison once he’s outside and within earshot of her, taking his helmet off and running a hand through his hair as he comes to a stop beside her, glancing towards the crowd of people waiting behind cones and a man arguing with someone in a police uniform. Luke shakes his head at the sight of the man gesturing towards the building and back at himself as he unfastens his coat and shrugs it off his shoulders, “He doesn’t think he’s actually going to be able to reopen tonight does he?”

“Hm? Not our problem,” Harrison says without even looking up from whatever form she’s filling out, though she does lift her pen up and wave it to something over his shoulder, “There’s someone over there looking for you. You’ve got 15 before we’ll be ready to leave.”

With a frown Luke looks over his shoulder, but can’t see anyone that he knows and it’s as he turns back to tell Harrison that when she taps him on the ear with her pen and Luke gets the hint. He leaves his helmet and coat with her and is halfway to the taped line when he spots a face in the crowd that makes a smile split across his face.

“What are you doing here?” He asks, not even attempting to keep the widening smile off his face as he jogs to a stop beside the tape line where Julie is standing with an arm linked through Flynns.

“Well we were trying to have a nice dinner,” Flynn mutters, and Luke catches the way she wrinkles her nose as he pulls away after leaning over to kiss Julie quickly, but there’s a slight smile on her lips too. Which is always nice to see because winning over Flynn had felt like the biggest test of his life and some days he still wasn’t entirely sure if she liked him or not.

“Just karma for trying to eat anywhere that’s not Alex’s place,” he rocks back on his heels and crosses his arms over his chest, letting the thumb on his right hand hook under the suspenders and dragging it a little across his chest.

“I don’t want him to think that I’m interested in being his friend because he can get me a table at the last minute,” Julie says, a small furrow appearing between her brows and Luke can’t help but shake his head with a laugh.

“Trust me, Alex’s first rule of friendship is don’t eat at crappy places that don’t get their fire alarms checked regularly.”

“That sounds more like your rule,” Flynn points out and she’s raising an eyebrow as she looks at him in a way that sends him back to being fifteen and put on the spot in a maths class.

Before Luke can formulate a reply Julie is shaking her head at her friend with a laugh and Luke’s eyes are drawn back to her, “No. Luke’s first rule of friendship is that you need to be able to name at least one band or artist from the 80’s. Quickly followed by knowing where all your fire exits are.”

“Just like to make sure people know the classic,” he shrugs, lips curving into a smile as realises just how well Julie knows him, and how much she remembers from their first date too.

“Ugh. You two are annoyingly cute,” Flynn mutters which is only when Luke notices that Julie’s been smiling back at him. But he can’t find it in himself to care how annoyingly cute they might look, he’s not seen her in a week and has to go back to work in less than five minutes. He’s gonna stare at her like the lovesick fool his friends accuse him of being.

A yawn creeps up his throat as he balls up his t-shirt and throws it into his bag, rolling out his neck as he reaches for the navy hoodie from inside his locker, foregoing another t-shirt in order to speed up the process of getting home and going straight to bed. He has plans to sleep for the next forty-two hours and only answer his phone for Julie, or his mom if she rings more then twice.

Heaving a breath he slips his hands through the arms of his hoodie and has it half lifted up to his head when a shiver runs up his back as someone traces a spiral pattern up his bare back.

“Hi,” a voice whispers behind him and Luke feels a sudden spike of energy at the sound of her voice. Enough to slip his arms the rest of the way into his hoodie and pull it over his head, he can feel Julie tugging at the hem at his neck, pulling it down to the waistband on his jeans and he tries not to be sad at the lack of her touch.

“Hey,” he finally replies as he turns around, eyes sweeping across her face and the casual leggings and too big band shirt that he’s pretty sure is his that she’s wearing, “You’re up early.”

“Mhm,” she smiles up at him, and it’s sweet and simple and lights up Lukes life in more ways than he’ll ever be able to express to her in words. “Thought I’d come pick you up. See if you maybe wanted to grab a little breakfast before you vanish into your bed.”

If it was anyone else asking him, Luke is pretty sure he’d give them a flat out no and grumble about people being too cheery in the morning. But it’s been five months and he loves her and he’s not been able to say no yet. He’s not sure he’ll ever be able to say no to her. Luke blinks as that thought settles within him.

Spending his life being unable to say no to Julie. He really likes the sound of that.

Completely unaware of the sudden life epiphany he’s experienced, Julie has zipped up his bag and is holding it, eyebrow raised as she looks at him. Waits for him. And Luke pushes all thoughts so the future aside for now, he’ll deal with them later and focuses on the now. On how easily Julie slips her hand into his when he offers it to her, how simple it feels to tug her a little closer and drop a kiss to her forehead before they leave the locker room.

“So you're gonna buy me pancakes, right?” He asks as he waves at one of the engine drivers already busy readjusting his seat for the day.

“I’ll even treat you to an extra topping,” she teases and Luke wrinkles his nose at her even as a smile pulls at his lips.

FIVE

“Hey so uh, I have to ask you something,” Luke started, eyes following the hands of the paramedic as they checked her over for any injuries. But, much like all the previous times, Julie seemed perfectly fine. Which was part of his problem. Or not problem. But his concerns. Because this was the fifth fire his station had been called out to that Julie had been at the scene for. And yeah okay maybe asking her while she was sitting on the sidewalk after running out a burning building wasn’t his best move but he’d been holding off on asking for a while and it just sorta slipped out.

“Are you—”

“You’re all good here, just keep with that oxygen for a little longer for me and then we’ll clear you to go,” the paramedic says, giving her arm a single pat before nodding to him and walking away.

“Julie, are you an arsonist!?” He blurts the question out before he can stop himself, and he watches with mounting embarrassment as Julie removes the oxygen mask from her face — slight indents in her cheeks that he’d want to smooth away if he hadn’t just accused her of a crime — and eyebrows halfway to her hairline.

“Excuse me?” she rasps and Luke winces from the hurt look in her eyes.

“I just—” he starts, waving his arms around them to try and encompass where they are. The store that’s still on fire, the firefighters still trying to get it under control, the people being treated for minor burns and smoke inhalation. “This is like the fifth time you’ve been at a fire! And I love you, you know I love you but I just gotta know if I should be covering for you or something here!”

For a moment Julie doesn’t say anything, just stares at him with her wide brown eyes and lips slightly parted and a little smudge of dirt across her chin. And then she laughs, throwing her head back against his shoulder and eyes shut tight as her body shakes with the force of it. Which does nothing to calm Luke’s fraying nerves about dating an arsonist, but does a lot to make him want to smile at the sight of her joy. Even if it’s maybe tinged with a little insanity.

“You’d really cover for me if I was an arsonist?” She asks after she calms her laughter and regains her breath.

“I mean...yeah,” he shrugs, rubbing one hand at the back of his neck as he smiles at her, a little sheepishly as he tries his best not to dislodge her head from where it’s resting.

“Luke, you’re very sweet and I love you too,” she reaches out a hand and wiggles her fingers at him and Luke barely even hesitates before he’s putting his hand in hers, fingers interlocking and rubbing his thumb over the back of her hand as he waits for her to carry on, “But I promise, I’m not an arsonist. I just seem to have really bad luck when it comes to places with faulty wiring.”

He’s silent for a moment as he lets her words register in his mind. Not an arsonist. Just bad luck. God, he’s so dumb.

“And!” she continues, sitting up straight again and poking a finger of her free hand into his cheek and snatching it away quickly before he has a chance to bite it, “You’re not even on duty today! I wouldn’t have even been in that store if you hadn’t been running late because you had to help Reggie with something.”

“Ah so it’s Reggie’s fault then,” Luke agrees and is rewarded by Julie huffing a laugh as she drops her head back to his shoulder, her hair tickling his cheek as he rests it against the top of her head. He gently reaches over to reattach the oxygen mask to her face as they sink back into a comfortable silence.

Luke thinks back to an hour ago, when he’d been hovering over Reggie’s shoulder and trying to help him work out the issue with a song he was helping to produce. He thinks about the look of shock and then excitement that had taken over his best friend's face at the sight of him scratching out a rough arrangement on his notes. How it had been the first time outside of drunken nights — and a dark crappy bar’s creaky stage for an open mic night — that he’d played anything on his guitar for someone.

When Luke had sworn off music, out of what he can now recognise as fear, he’d never really stopped to think what it meant for the people around him. At the time, he’d thought his mom was just still trying to keep the peace whenever she’d asked why he didn’t play anymore, had thought Alex and Reggie were happy for an excuse to not follow him on his quest for connections with the world, had thought that maybe music wasn’t for him.

He had never thought maybe they missed him playing as much as he had loved it.

And then he’d met Julie and that part of his brain that he’d shut off had exploded with lyrics and melodies and chords he hadn’t thought about in years. He still hadn’t sung, still wasn’t sure if he could, but Luke was starting to think maybe not being able to sing was okay if he could grab his guitar and finally express his feelings through music again. Some of them at least, he turns his head a little to press a kiss into Julie’s hair before resting his cheek back in the same spot.

“I’m sorry I was late,” he whispers, “And that I accused you of being an arsonist.”

“I’ll forgive you,” she mutters, the sound a little lost by the mask but he doesn’t miss the way her lips are pulled up into a smile, “If you buy me pancakes.”

“Okay what about this one?” Luke asks as he holds up a vinyl, The Bangles staring out at them from under their big hair and questionable bangs of the Manic Monday era.

“I’m trying to find some music from this century,” Julie rolls her eyes at him as she pushes his hand down and Luke pouts at her, which only earns him another eye roll.

“But you’re going to need some of the old classics too! You did say you lost most of your music in the fire,” he points out, slipping the vinyl into the small growing collection under his arm with a sweet smile at her. If she’d wanted someone to suggest modern music she had to have known he was the wrong person to bring shopping.

“You know there’s this thing called spotify? It’s amazing, it has like, all the music you could possibly want on it,” she teases as she leans in a little and Luke can’t help but do the same, wrinkling his nose as he pretends to look lost.

“Never heard of it, guess you’ll just have to come home with me later and show me how to use it,” his eyes glance down at her lips before slowly trailing back up to her eyes in time to see her rolling them again, though he also notices the slight flush to her cheeks and grins.

“Only if you help me find the records on my list,” she whispers, and for a moment Luke thinks she’ll close the distance between them and press her lips to his and is so distracted with the thought that he misses the way her hand comes up to push at his chest, sending him rocking back on his heels and Julie sliding past him.

“Tease,” he mumbles and Julie laughs from behind him, already moving through the rows and looking for things on her list. Things she lost in the fire, things she’s just always been on the lookout for. And Luke here’s to try and help her find them. But he’s also here for an ulterior motive and uses Julie’s distraction of looking through the r&b to head towards the other side of the store where he knows they keep the unsorted second hand stuff.

He’d started his hunt a few months ago, stopping by various music stores and second hand places to look around and ask the staff to let him know when they get a new stock of vinyls or tapes. So far he’d not had much luck. But he was feeling confident about today. He’d played music for Reg and Julie wasn’t an arsonist and Willie was ‘stealing’ them some of his uncles cheesecake for tonight. So today was the day he was going to find it. And it would be the best housewarming gift for when Julie moved into her new place next month.

And he really hopes he can find it because his back up plan is a plant of some kind and that just feels too cliche.

He shifts through copies of The Beatles and The 1975 and a shocking number of The Zombies which is something he’ll be thinking about later. He’s down to the last few vinyls in the crate and close to heaving a sigh when he flips back the second to last one and grins. Purple petals falling onto the upturned faces of four women who are smirking up at their band name on a dark blue background. Pulling it out, Luke flips it over and skims the five songs on the back and bites his lip as he examines the small signs of wear and tear on the edges but otherwise seems fine. Almost perfect condition.

He just knew today was a good day!

“Luke!” Julie’s voice startles him out of his thoughts and he only just has enough time to slide the record between two others in his hands before she spots it as she runs up to his, fingers wrapping around his forearm as she tugs at him, “They have a photo booth! Come take some photos with me. Please?”

She looks up at him with wide eyes and everyone always tells him he has the best puppy dog eyes they’ve seen, but Luke thinks that’s just because they’ve never seen Julie’s. Not that she needs them. He’d say yes to anything she wanted. Which she knows.

“Only if we take the most cliche ones possible,” he lets himself be pulled towards the back of the store where an old fashioned photo booth with a red crushed velvet curtain is nestled between stacks of crates and t-shirts on a railing. Putting the records down on the edge of one of the crates Luke digs some change out of his pocket while Julie slides onto the bench, leaving a space for him to join her.

Her hair brushes against his shoulder as she leans forward to read the faded instructions and Luke hands her a couple of dollar bills before she can even reach for her own purse. There’s a whirring sound after she feeds them into the machine and the screen flickers a few times before a countdown starts and Julie lets out a gasp as he wraps an arm around her shoulders to pull her back just in time for the first flash.

“Oh fuck,” she laughs and flings her arms around his neck, smooching their cheeks together and now Luke’s laughing, their reflections showing two people a mess of hair and half closed eyes. By the third flash Luke has his face buried in her curls as his shoulders shake with laughter while Julie tells him to get it together between her own giggles.

“Shall we try that again?” He asks after the last flash and the whirring has stopped and they’ve managed to calm their laughter down.

“I didn’t think it would be that quick!” Julie shakes her head, but fishes some more money out of her bag, tossing her hair over her shoulder as she sits up, “Okay. We need a plan this time around. Money in. A nice smiling one, a funny face, kiss on the cheek, classic peace sign. Got it?”

Julie waits for him to nod before leaning to put money in the machine again, and Luke honestly has every intention of following her plan. Smile, funny face, kiss on the cheek, peace. Cliche, just like he’d wanted. But as the countdown starts and Julie sits back, shoulder brushing against his as she smiles, he can’t help but turn to smile at her. At the way she’s tucked some curls behind her ear so he can see the butterfly earrings and the little stars that trail up from her seconds to her helix, at the collection of necklaces glinting at her throat, the chain of one resting below the pulse point on her neck that he knows makes her moan when he presses his lips against, the way her lips stretch into a smile that he knows if she was facing him he’d be able to see the little gap between her teeth.

A flash goes off and Luke licks his lips, mouth ticking up a little at the side as she turns to look at him with her eyebrows raised, “You were meant to be smiling.”

“I was,” he defends and proves his point by grinning at her, teeth sinking into his bottom lip as he tries to keep it in check.

“You’re not following the plan.” But she doesn’t seem to be too annoyed, even as the second flash lights up the booth and Luke knows they only have a few seconds before the third one goes off so he takes his chance and leans forward to capture her lips before she can say anything else.

They miss the third flash, and the forth.

When they leave the booth a few minutes later his hair is sticking up and his lips are a little swollen and Julie has to spend a few seconds readjusting her crop top so it’s no longer riding up. If the guy at the front counter had noticed them giggling or being in the booth for too long he doesn’t show it and Luke’s not about to push his luck.

“See, told you I was smiling,” he mutters as he looks over her shoulder to look at the two strips of photos in her hands, at the blurry giggling messes that they are in the first one and the heart-eyed cliche couple they are in the second. He’s starting to get what Alex, Reggie and Flynn mean about the way they look at each other.

“I’m going to go pay for these then we can go check out that place with the lamp you liked,” he says, pressing a kiss into her temple and reaching around her to pick up the records and gently pulls the second photo strip from her fingers, dropping her a wink as she turns to pout at him, “I’m going to put this one in my locker at work. They’re starting to run low on stuff to tease me about.”

Julie’s laugh follows him as he makes his way up to the counter where the guy doesn’t even blink at his messed up hair or the bruise he’s pretty sure is starting to show up on his collarbone given how tender it feels as he brushes past it to scratch his neck. Which is another thing for his friends to tease him about.

Luke grins at the strip of glossy photos in his hand. So worth it.

+ONE

As he waits for the shower water to heat up a little Luke taps out a quick reply to Julie promising he’ll be at her new place by two to help her move boxes and unpack. Which is all very exciting. He’d personally been round to check all the fire detectors and the wiring were up to code, and should anything happen, her new apartment was in his station's district so he’d be on the scene to help.

Apparently even Ray found that reassuring, and Luke was trying to not let that go to his head. His girlfriend's dad likes him. He thinks that’s pretty cool. Of course Ray had also taken up texting Reggie a lot which was a little weird but it was fine. He had bonus points of saving both his kids from fires.

Locking his phone he puts it on the counter, bobbing his head as a song from a tiktok plays in his head as he moves back over to the shower and stepping into the hot water.

He doesn’t really know what happens next.

One minute he’s lathering shampoo into his hair, head swaying from side to side and hips rocking in a circular motion as he hums along with the song in his head.

And then his mouth is opening and he’s singing.

“We're stuck where we are, with no house, no car. Castaways, ahoy, we are castaways,” his voice tails off as he starts humming again as he sticks his head under the shower stream to start rinsing off the shampoo. Only he only gets as far as leaning a little forward before he realises what’s just happened.

“Holy shit!” he sputters, stumbling a step backwards and wiping water out of his eyes only to wince and swear again as he rubs shampoo into them. Fumbling, he reaches for the face cloth he knows is somewhere nearby and wipes at his eyes again, blinking and heart racing.

For a moment the only thing he can hear is the water hitting tiles and his heart racing in his chest and that damn song still playing on a loop in his head. Swallowing, Luke sucks in a breath and tests his voice out again. He hasn’t sung anything in seven years but he can still remember the lyrics to Now or Never like he’d written them yesterday and as he pushes himself off the wall his fingers absentmindedly start picking out the chords as the words breeze out of him.

Like they’d just been waiting on the tip of his tongue all this time. And fuck, he really does feel like he’s been hit with an electric hammer to the heart with how fast his is beating right now.

He knows exactly what happens next. He acts on instinct. And instinct tells him he has to tell someone else.

Not stopping to turn the water off, or even grab a towel, Luke jumps out of the shower, fingers scrambling with the lock on the door before he can jank it open and then he’s running down the corridor, bare feet slipping on wood.

“Boys!” He shouts, skidding to a stop in the doorway of the living room, chest still heaving as he bends over a little to catch his breath. Pushing wet — and still soapy — hair out of his face, Luke turns a wide grin at the three pairs of wide eyes watching him from the sofa. He hadn’t known Willie was here. But that’s fine. Willie’s practically family, they’re all just waiting for one of them to propose at this point.

“Uh Luke—” Reggie starts, eyes firmly on his face even as his hand waves in the general direction of his legs, but Luke doesn’t have time to worry about dripping water on the floor right now.

“Boys. I sang again.” It’s a statement. A sentence that wouldn’t mean anything to anyone else. That wouldn't be a big deal or cause for celebration.

But Alex and Reggie had been there after the fire, after the doctors had told him to rest his voice, after he’d tried once and refused to do it since. It had been Alex and Reggie who he’d blown up at one day after school at 17 when they’d suggested going out for the school talent show as an attempt to help him. It was Alex and Reggie who have been with him every song-less day since.

So they get it.

“Holy shit,” Alex whispers, standing up from the couch at the same moment that Reggie vaults over it, both of them grinning just as wide as Luke is sure he is.

“And your voice, it was…” Reggie trails off, but his eyebrows wiggle and Luke gets the point.

“I don’t want to brag but I think a seven year vocal rest might have possibly made me sound better,” he shrugs one shoulder, but the calm, cool and casual air he’s trying to project is totally ruined by the way he’s practically bouncing in place. He feels jittery, his fingers itching for strings, mind racing with years worth of lyrics he’s suppressed.

“We told you!” Alex slaps his hand on his bicep, only to cringe as he wipes his now wet hand on his jeans.

“Dude you are so naked right now,” Willie laughs from his place on the couch, and Luke can’t help it, he drops one eye in a wink and dodges out of the way of Alex’s fist, which only makes Willie laugh more, “Happy for you though man. On the singing again. Does this mean the band is back together?”

The three of them look at each other, eyebrows raised and smiles stretched and Luke doesn’t know. But he does know that something has shifted back into place inside him. Like he’d been walking around a little off balance, not enough to really notice it until he’d been righted.

“How about we discuss future band plans when you’ve washed the shampoo out of your hair,” Reggie suggests, and Luke’s not self conscious about being naked in their living room, but he is starting to feel a little cold.

“Good plan. And then I need to get to Jules’ to help move furniture,” he points once at Reggie, and then at Alex as he starts walking backwards down the corridor, “And then we can get this band back together.”

The bathroom has filled with steam by the time he gets back, and the water is a little too hot, but Luke doesn’t care as he jumps back under the stream and finally washes the shampoo from his hair as he sings through Now or Never twice.

The second he steps through the door Luke knocks into a bed frame and only just manages to catch it before it topples on to him, raising an eyebrow at Julie who’s grimacing at him from the other side, “I say we move the bed first.”

Her eyebrows shoot up and she rests one hand on her hip, “Oh?”

“Not for— I just meant before it knocks someone out! Not for that,” his eyes trail down her body, at the denim shorts and plain purple t-shirt she’s tied up to making to a crop top that expose just a little of her skin, and he can’t help but grin, “Not yet at least.”

“You grab that end? And try not to drag it on the floor, I don’t want to scratch them,” she says, hands wrapping around one side of the frame and tilting her head at him until he follows suit. There’s a lot of awkward pulling and lifting and bumping into stacks of boxes with Julie’s neat writing scrawled along the sides. Then they spend a solid few minutes struggling to fit the thing through her bedroom doorway until they do some pivoting and silly impressions of Ross from friends that does little to help but make them laugh.

“Okay, okay,” Luke pants, resting against the wardrobe that’s already in the room and looking around, “I’ve lifted weights in the gym that were easier to move then that thing.”

“My tia says a sturdy bed frame is always a must have,” Julie grins at him from where she’s sat on the floor, with her legs outstretched and Luke wrinkles his nose at her before pushing away from the wardrobe to offer her a hand up.

“Come on, let's get the rest of your boxes into the correct rooms and we can test out this sturdy bed frame your tia recommended,” he pauses after pulling her up, the lack of distance between them meaning he has to look down at her as his brows pull together in a frown, “Wait that sounded weirder than I meant.”

“Just a little,” she agrees, nose wrinkling and reaching up on her tiptoes to wrap her arms around his neck and kisses him. It’s soft and quick, like they’ll have forever for something more. And then she pulls away, hands sliding down his shoulders to his biceps, “Can you move the boxes for the kitchen and I’ll get the ones for the bathroom?”

It’s a few hours later when all the boxes that had been stacked by the front door are spread out in the correct rooms and they’re sitting surrounded by pieces of wood and nails that are supposed to make an ikea table.

What Luke is learning from it is that Julie is not very good at flat pack furniture.

“It says the weird squiggly one goes into the inside holes at the bottom! But I can’t find any holes and the weird squiggly things won't turn!” she whines, jabbing the screwdriver in the direction of the half built table and waving the instructions at him like he’s personally written them.

“Well uh might help if you turn it the other way around,” he suggests, fingers wrapping around one of the legs and rotating it so the side that had been facing him and is now facing Julie and she can see the holes she was missing. The flush in her cheeks darkens a little as her mouth opens to form a silent ‘oh’ and Luke grins, stretching an arm out to pry to the screwdriver from her fingers. “How about we take a break from building furniture, have some lunch? I’m no Alex but I know how to fry an egg and bacon.”

Julie heaves a sigh, head falling into her hands and then pushing her hair out of her face as she looks back up at him with a tired smile, “I can go and grab us some coffees?”

“Sounds like a plan,” he smiles at her, pushing up onto his knees and kissing her cheek before pushing up further on to his feet with a groan and then offering Julie a hand up too.

“Try not to burn my new apartment down while I’m gone,” she taps her fingers against this chest and then picks up her phone and moves towards the front door to find her shoes.

“Think you’ll find you’re the arsonist in this relationship,” he calls after her, grinning as she laughs into the kiss that she blows to him before shutting the door. And then he’s in her apartment by himself. The place still feels a little empty and cold, with the only furniture in place being the sofa her dad and brother had helped carry up earlier and the bookcase against the wall that connects to the second bedroom. But Luke had caught a glimpse of her old apartment, and had seen her room at her dad's house and knew that while Julie might not be good at putting furniture together she was really amazing at decorating a space and making it feel like home.

After rooting through one box to find a frying pan and a second to find a spatula, Luke grabs eggs and bacon and glances at the spinach that’s part of Victoria’s welcome package before ignoring it and turning back to the stove. He’s pretty sure she’s got a speaker or a radio in one of these boxes somewhere, but he doesn’t want to go rooting through her things. Not that he needs to, because he can make his own background music now and it’ll probably be better then anything on the radio too.

Idly, as he cracks open an egg, Luke wonders if maybe he’s a little too cocky inside his own head for someone who hasn’t sung a note in seven years but well, he’s never been known as the humble one in his friend group.

“You can't start a fire, you can't start a fire without a spark,” he sings, hips swaying as he pokes at the eggs, “This gun's for hire, even if we're just dancin' in the dark,” he mumbles through the next sentence as he flips a piece of bacon before throwing himself back into the song in full force, “Radio's on and I'm movin' 'round my place. I check my look in the mirror,” he sucks in a breath and raises the spatula up to his mouth like a makeshift microphone and scrunches his eyes shut as he almost growls the last sentence, “Wanna change my clothes, my hair, my face!”

“Oh.”

If he hadn’t been gasping for a breath he might not have heard her. Because he certainly hadn’t heard her come back in, but as lowers his spatula and spins around he comes face to face with Julie clutching a tray of drinks and staring at him wide eyed.

“Uh, hi,” and, for some reason, he waves at her with the spatula while his other hand rubs at the back of his neck with a sheepish smile, “Sorry I uh, didn’t hear—”

“When did you start singing again?” She blurts out before he can finish his sentence and right. He hadn’t told her. He’d nearly gotten squished by a bed frame and forgotten about his news.

“Um like, six hours ago?” He shrugs, finally putting the spatula down and taking a step towards her, suddenly nervous in a way he hasn’t been since their first date.

“That was— you’re—” she trails off, eyes trailing over his face with something that looks like awe, but Luke doesn’t understand why. Shit maybe time has fucked with his brain and he actually sounds shit? Oh god is she going to break up with him for being a terrible singer?

“Fuck Luke, you never said you could sing!”

“Yes I did,” he frowns at her, “I said it on our first date that I used to sing and then I stopped because of a fire!”

“Yeah but I didn’t know you could sing like...that!” She shakes her head slightly, her smile widening as she puts the drinks down on the counter and closes the gap between them, arms reaching up to circle around his neck and Luke’s hands automatically rest on her waist, fingers brushing against the strip of skin above the waistband of her shorts and below her top.

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” she asks.

“Nearly got hit by a bed frame,” he shrugs and flexes his fingers against her waist when she giggles.

“This is big,” she breaths, and her smile softens a little and Luke’s eyes dip to her lips before going back to her eyes, “This is big, right? Because you sounded pretty amazing just now. And it really fucking hot too, but if this isn’t an exciting thing I can—”

“No this...it’s big and it’s exciting,” it’s his turn to cut her off with a shake of his head, and his fingers trail down her ass and trace the edge of the top of her back pocket before sliding in and squeezing, Julie rocks forward, mouth opening to say something but Luke takes his chance to put his lips against hers and find her tongue.

She moans into his mouth and Luke walks them backwards until the hand that’s on her waist hits the counter. He lowers his hand to tap her thigh, and without breaking apart she lifts her leg up to his hip and he hoists her up the rest of the way until he can balance her on the edge of the counter and get better leverage. Julie pulls away first, her breathing heavy and Luke smirks at her before trailing his lips up her jaw and down her throat, paying extra special attention to her pulse point on his way down.

“You really found me singing hot?” he whispers as he sucks at a spot just above her collarbone, nipping at her skin when she only moans instead of answers.

“You already know you're hot,” she groans, fingers in his hair and tugging gently until he gives in and lets her tug his head away from his attack at her collarbone and can reattach her lips to his. And Luke’s not about to complain about that either. Kissing Julie in any way is one of his favourite things. He pulls away first this time, pulling his hand free of her pocket and wrapping it around her thigh to push her further onto the counter. Her whine of protest at the lack of contact pulls a grin from his lips as he leans forward to kiss her again quickly, once, twice, and then runs his hands down her legs slowly as he pulls away again, head lowering back to the dip between her clavicle.

“Fire,” she whispers, and Luke grins against her skin because yeah, he kinda feels like he’s on fire right now too. Julie runs her fingers through his hair again, nails scratching at his scalp, “Luke. Fire.”

“I know, Jules, me too,” he mutters against her, lips moving up the other side of her collarbone and half wondering if she’d mind if he ripped her t-shirt and — “Ow!”

He pulls away sharply, eyes widening as he looks at her while one hand goes to his head to rub at the spot where she’d pulled at his hair too hard, “What was that for?”

“Fire!” Julie shouts and points over his shoulder. Where the stove is. Where Luke had been cooking before getting distracted. Where a small grease fire is now raging in the pan with eggs and bacon for fuel.

“Fuck,” he hisses, dropping his grip on Julie’s leg to lunge for the box of kitchen equipment to pull out a metal baking tray before turning back to the fire and slamming the tray on top, wincing at the heat but pushing through to turn the stove top off and push the pan to the back.

Hands on his hips, Luke blows out a breath and is about to ask if Julie is okay when he hears her burst out into laughter. Eyebrows raised, he turns to see her still on the counter top, fingers gripping the edge as her legs swing back and forth and she leans forward, “I thought I told you not to burn down my apartment?”

“Guess I’ll just have to find a way to make it up to you,” he chuckles and, checking the pan isn’t about to burst into flames again, turns his attention back to what he was doing with a little more attention to detail then before.

“I got you a gift,” he whispers much later after the sun has set and they’d ordered pizza and given up on building furniture to pile blankets and pillows on the floor of her living room to stretch out on. Julie turns her head from where it’s resting against his chest to look at him, eyebrows raised and a small smile playing on her lips.

“You got me a gift?” she repeats, “You didn’t have to get me anything.”

“I know but…,” Luke shrugs and gently dislodges her head so he can reach over to grab his boxers and slip them back on before getting up and padding across the apartment towards the front door to retrieve the wrapped box he’d left there earlier. By the time he’s padding back to their nest of blankets Julie is sitting cross legged and pulling her hair out of the neck of his t-shirt.

“It’s uh,” he rubs at the back of his neck as he sits back down, mirroring her position and carefully setting the box between them, it’s dark green paper rustling a little as Julie traces a finger down one edge, “Well you’ll see. And if you don’t like it or— or if it’s too much then that’s fine. I can uh I can take it back or something. But I just, you said it was important to you.”

There’s a quizzical sort of look on her face, brows furrowed and lips pursed as she pulls the box closer and finds the edge of the paper to unwrap it. Luke watches her face carefully as she pulls the paper free and then slowly lifts the lid off the box to see the record nestled in purple tissue paper underneath. Her hand freezes with the lid half in the air, and her lips part and fuck there’s tears in her eyes. He gives her a moment before tilting his head to try and catch her eyes, but they’re tracing over the cover art.

“Jules,” he whispers, though he doesn’t know what he’s going to say, if he should be apologising or comforting or what. “Is it too much?”

Julie blinks and Luke watches as a tear glides down her cheek and he aches to reach over and catch it but she’s closing her eyes, head shaking as a watery laugh bubbles past her lips.

“Where on earth did you find this?” She finally asks, turning eyes of unshed tears at him but she’s smiling so he’s going to guess happy tears.

“Remember that place with the photo booth?” He asks and shrugs when she nods, “I asked a bunch of people to let me know if they got any second hand vinyls in and well, just got lucky that day.”

“Dad looked everywhere to try and find another copy after the fire,” she whispers, and Luke sees her fingers shaking a little as she reaches out to trace the letters of Rose and the Petal Pushers on the cover before looking back up at him, “You’re— Thank you. This is...this is amazing Luke.”

“Good thing we dug your record player out, huh?” He nudges her knee with his own and nods towards the only table they managed to complete, where her TV and record player are set up and Julie wipes at her cheeks before reaching into the box and carefully pulling her mom's record out, holding it like it’s the most precious thing in her life. Which, he supposes it kind of is.

Julie pads across the room to put the record on the machine and set the needle and Luke watches her and thinks. He thinks about music and how it has always been such a large part of his life even when he couldn’t play it, couldn’t sing. How he’d once dreamt of filling his days like this, listening to songs sung by people who understood just how amazing music was. He thinks about how he’d given up on that dream and found a new one, but how he’d ended up back here anyway.

Luke thinks, as Julie sits down next to him, her arm wrapping around his waist, as his goes around her shoulders to pull her closer, his fingers making idle circles on her shoulder through the arm holes of his top, that maybe he was always going to end up here. With Julie in his arms and music playing around them.

He thinks maybe he has a couple of fires to thank for it too.

Luke's fingers are idly playing with one of Julie's curls as the her moms voice echoes around the apartment, drums fading into the background as a piano plays them out of the song and Luke's thinking about how much she sounds likes her, and how incredibly she'd sound singing this song when it hits him. It's sudden and harsh, like a hammer has just landed on his gut and he lurches forward pushing Julie up with him as she looks at him with wide eyes.

"What? What's wrong?" Her hands hover in the air around his chest, like she's afraid she might hurt him by touching him.

"The first song I sang after seven years was the stupid fucking Castaways song that people keep using on tiktoks," he whines, head falling into his hands and Julie's attempts at comforting him by rubbing at his shoulder is lost in the way her laugh replaces the music, both in her apartment and in his head.

#julie and the phantoms #julie molina #luke patterson #jatp fic #jukeboxweek #jukebox #jatp #firefighter!luke au #once again staring at the tags unsure whatelse to put #*fics #also look at my cute lil graphic i did when i got annoyed with part 3 isn't it fun!!!! doodles!!!!

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tinyboxxtink · 3 years

Text

"Not My Yacht" *Chapter 4*

Part 3

Part 5

Mwahahahahaha!

Okay so-- obviously, this story is taking place in an alternate universe. Clearly. I need you all to follow me along on this journey, suspend your disbelief, yeah? I did my best at a backstory, I went over it for a long time. I'm pretty sure every detail is covered. If not, I apologize, let me know and I'll fix it.

I think this is gonna be one hell of a ride, people. I'm super excited, are you?!

Tag List

@madamsnape921

@lolliepopsicle

@chasingeverybreakingwave

@milkshqke

@wanniiieeee

@word-scribbless

@gibbs274

@sassyada

@aprildecker-blog

@bookishfanfic

@stars-in-the-skies-world

@stars-trash-18

@omgsuperstarg

@objection-argumentative

(should I keep tagging @storiesofsvu ? I'm gonna do it until she says for the love of god STOP. 😂)

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

There was a very long, awkward pause before Rafael finally spoke:

“....What did you just say?”

“Please don’t make me repeat it,” You bit your lip as you looked at him with very sad, still very frightened eyes.

“I...I don’t…how...why...HOW is this man your husband?!”

“I...Well, he--” You muttered.

“He’s a PSYCHOPATH, Y/N!”

“Well he wasn’t when I met him!” You screamed unintentionally. You hadn’t meant to be that aggressive, but your instincts kicked in whenever a man yelled at you now.

“...I mean, I guess he was but you just said it yourself: He’s smart. He’s slick. He was sweet and charming and handsome, and I just-- we just-- “

“He seduced you,"

"I fell in love with him, Rafael! Jesus, it wasn't a one night stand. We were in love," You took a shaky breath. "Look I was a young, naïve, impressionable broke college student, okay? And he-- he was kind, and generous, and--”

“I don’t, I can’t have this conversation with you,” He started to walk into his secret room to get your clothes so that you could leave.

“No, please Rafael,” You grabbed his arm. “Please, let me explain? Please,” You pleaded with him.

“....Fine,” He sighed, unable to ignore your whimpers and tears.

“He wooed me, he gave me everything and anything I asked for. He lived in this giant loft uptown, I thought he was amazing. Looking back on it now, the loft was probably owned by people that he murdered and he’d kill people to get things I wanted, but I didn’t know that at the time!” You paced the floor while thinking out loud.

“And then when he asked me to marry him, I was ecstatic! I thought it was going to be my fairy tale ending before I was even 25, I didn’t know--” You suddenly stopped pacing and stopped talking, the memories of that period in your life coming back to you in disturbing waves.

Rafael saw how much you were in distress telling your story. Even though he was disgusted that you were ever intimate with this lunatic, he couldn’t help but feel for you. He stood up and took your hand, leading you to the leather couch in the corner of the room. He sat you down and motioned for you to continue if you could, while still holding your hand.

“I didn’t know that he was just trying to get me to be-- ‘his’, so that he could do whatever he wanted to me,” You barely got the words out while you still burned holes into the carpet with your eyes.

“Oh God, Oh-- Y/N,” He took your other hand but didn’t force you to look up; he wanted you to tell the rest on your own time.

“After we got married he started hitting me for stupid stuff like putting the dishes in the dishwasher wrong, or folding the towels the wrong way. And then he’d--” You felt tears catch in your throat. “He’d make me have sex with him whenever he wanted,”

“Carino,” Rafael instinctively put his arms around your shoulders, pulling you closer towards him. He just wanted to comfort you, he didn’t want to think about what else that monster did to you.

“I--- I didn’t know what to do. I had just graduated, he was paying for my law school, he was paying for everything I had in my life. I felt like I was trapped, so I just-- I put up with it,” You tried not to cry, you swore a long time ago you wouldn’t waste any more tears on him. But right now you couldn’t help it.

“But then it started getting worse,” You finally raised your head to look at him. “He started beating me when he was angry over other things, sometimes within an inch of my life,”

Rafael didn’t know what to say, he knew you weren’t finished so he just kept rubbing the back of your palms with his thumb comfortingly.

“I finally knew either I had to leave, or die,” You got your tears under control as you remembered how strong you had to be back then. And ever since. “So one day when he was on one of his ‘business trips’-- which now I know were probably killings or heists or worse, I packed everything I could fit into two suitcases and I just-- I left,” You sighed.

“I didn’t have anywhere to go. My parents live in Florida, I didn’t really have friends at school, which wouldn’t have mattered anyway because without him paying for it I had to drop out. I slept on the streets for months!” You unconsciously moved closer into Rafael’s chest as you relived the horror.

“Finally I-- I did something that I never thought I would do in a million years, but I was desperate Rafael. You have to understand that,” You looked at him with a terrified look, like he was about to kick you out of his office for real after what you were about to say.

“I do,” He put a hand to your face. “Whatever you’re going to say, I understand,”

“Okay,” You nodded softly. “I...I became an escort,” You turned away from him and his soft hand on your cheek. Even though he just assured you he understood, you could feel the judgement.

“Not a hooker,” You quickly added, like that made it any better. “An escort-- for older, wealthy gentlemen callers,”

“Ah,” He nodded. “I see,”

“...I changed my name, cancelled all my credit cards and got new ones in my new name. And I started making pretty good money. Enough for a small apartment and food anyway,” You continued. “I had accepted the fact that my life was going to be just what it was at that time-- living my life out as a whore,”

“You’re not, and never were and never will be, a whore Y/N,”

“Rafael, please,” You shook your head with a sarcastic laugh. “Maybe I was a fancy whore, but still one nonetheless,”

“No you--” He didn’t want to get into female derogatory slurs with you right now, so he just let it go. “...Okay, continue,”

“So then I just-- got lucky,” You played with the buttons on his shirt once again nervously. “I shouldn’t say lucky, that’s awful to say about a person’s death,”

“...Death?”

“Yeah um,” You picked harder at the buttons. “A regular of mine, Bartholomew Ridgewood. He was a very wealthy stockbroker who had no family or friends, just-- me, apparently,” You shrugged. “He had a heart attack and died, and then his estate contacted me to let me know that he had left his entire fortune and penthouse to me,”

“Seriously?” Rafael almost laughed at the crazy notion.

“I know right?!” You suddenly exclaimed. It really sounded like something out of a soap opera. “So, I used the money to immediately enroll back in law school, and got a job with Rita, and-- here I am,” You motioned towards yourself, in a ‘ta da’ fashion.

“So, let me get this straight,” Rafael began going over detail of your story in his head. “You actually have a huge fortune, but you’re still going to law school, AND holding down a job?”

“...Yeah,” You pushed a strand of hair behind your ear.

“Why?” He narrowed his eyes.

“Why?” You half laughed. “Well for one, because I don’t ever want to have to depend on a man’s wealth to survive ever again,”

“How would that even happen? Did you blow through it that fast?”

“No!” You suddenly stood up in anger, not believing he was questioning you now. “But it still scares me that something will happen to it, and I’ll be helpless again,” You crossed your arms. “And two, I want to help people like me, without a voice. And three, a recommendation from the District Attorney to any law firm is a very highly coveted accomplishment, Rafael,”

“Right,” He nodded. “So much more coveted than a lowly DA’s recommendation,”

“Are you-- Are you serious?” You laughed in disbelief. “Wha--How, HOW did you get to that from any point in my horror story?”

“I don’t-- I don’t know, maybe if I had known you sooner I could have protected you,” He rubbed the back of his neck. Why DID he say that? Why was he suddenly jealous that you had consciously chosen to work for Rita over him? Why did that even matter at this point?

“No, you couldn’t have,” You shook your head as you sat back down next to him. “I got away from-- By the way he went by Tommy Richmond back then, if you want to add that to your case file,” You pointed to the folder on the desk.

He stood up and walked over to it, pulling papers out of the folder and examining each identity he had found so far. Tommy was on the list from a few years ago. Eric Braverman was next on the list, then Eddie Warshack and then Billy Forsythe, before William Lewis. Eric’s ID was from Connecticut, Eddie from Pennsylvania, and Billy from Ohio.

“....So this shows that once he left New York he went south, but then came back up? That doesn’t make any sense,” He flipped through the papers as thoughts ran through his brain.

“Doesn’t it though?” You stood up and walked over to the desk. “He came back for me. He’s probably looking for me. Maybe he thought I fled the state and he went looking and came back,” Your face turned paler the more you thought out loud.

“I have to get out of here,” You suddenly decided out loud. You briskly walked to the secret room and pulled your clothes out with one minute left on the dryer, but you didn’t care. You were quickly putting them on when Rafael ran in after you.

“What? No, no you don’t,” He tried to stop you from unbuttoning his shirt. “Not now that I know he’s looking for you, you’re not going anywhere,”

“Look Rafael,” You stopped undressing and looked at him very seriously. “He’s smart, and he’s fast. I’ll bet you right now that he is doing some very specific research on anyone that was in that station the day you picked him up. And that includes you,”

“And why would he waste time on that if he’s looking for you?” Rafael raised a curious eyebrow.

“Well obviously if he thinks he’s at risk of being caught I’m the furthest thing from his mind right now! And he’ll study you all like lab rats, trying to figure out your fears and weaknesses, and prey on them. That’s exactly how he manipulated me,”

“So he researched you?”

“No, I don’t think he needed to back then! I just fell into his arms, no hard work on his end required,” You scoffed at your naivete as a young girl.

“....So why do you need to leave?” He crossed his arms.

“Because he’ll figure out we’re....involved,” You gestured between the two of you.

“Involved?” He half laughed. “Y/N we haven’t even-- we haven’t done anything but talk!”

“And yet I’m standing here in your office in only my underwear and your shirt like you said, a sex fantasy!” You gestured to your still scantily clad body.

That gave Rafael an idea.

Without warning his arms were suddenly around your waist, pulling you roughly into his awaiting mouth. You were shocked at first, but soon welcomed his tongue into yours as it began exploring your mouth. His hands slowly moved up your waist through his shirt, approaching your bare breasts. Before he could reach them, you pushed him away.

“What the FUCK are you doing?!” You yelled angrily. “Do you really think now is the appropriate time to do this?”

“Well, if Lewis thinks we’re ‘fraternizing’, shouldn’t we actually ‘fraternize’?” He gave you a smirk.

“He doesn’t think anything yet! I have no idea where he is, you have no idea where he is,” You sighed in frustration.

“I do know where he is,” He traced your palms with his finger sensually. “He’s locked in the tank at the station,”

“...Really?” You were suddenly feeling much safer, and arousal quickly came along with it.

“Really,” He nodded, cupping your head in his hands by your jawline so his thumbs ran against the side of your temples. He gently massaged them, making you relax even more.

“...And you’re not just trying to have sex with me so I won’t run off on you?” You did your best to keep your wits about you, but it was growing increasingly difficult with the smell of his cologne wafting from his hands into your nose. It was intoxicating.

“Maybe I am,” He chuckled, “Or maybe, I’m just acting on things I know we’ve both felt since yesterday on that boat,”

“That’s assuming a lot, counselor,” You bit your lip as you tried desperately not to look down at his mouth while he moved his face closer.

“Is it, though?” His smirk grew more devilish as he continued to close the gap between your lips.

“I…” You tried thinking of anything but his tongue inside you, but it was a losing battle. “....Screw it,”

You grabbed his head and thrusted it against your burning lips as your tongues once again began to do a tango in between your mouths. His hands moved upwards quicker this time, and this time you let them. You jumped onto him, wrapping your legs around his waist as he fell against the desk to support your weight. He picked you up and carried you to the leather couch, laying you down and crawling on top of you while never removing his mouth from yours.

You were both so happy and so enthralled with each other you didn’t notice the door was cracked open, and two dark eyes peering behind it.

#rafael barba #rafael barba x you #rafael barba x reader #law and order svu #law and order svu fanfiction #raul esparza #not my yacht

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high-warlock-of-brooklyn · 3 years

Text

would things be easier if there was a right way? (honey there is no right way) (Ao3 link)

@thehuntersmoondiscord Masquerade Exchange for @valinphatombeliver (Hope you like it!)

Ships: Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood (Alternate universe: This World Inverted)

Summary: After that fateful party at the Institute, Magnus's magic is not the only thing that comes back. His soulmark feels alive again, and this time, Magnus is not alone.

Alec feels like an idiot, betting his heart like that, especially after the sting of an almost rejected soulmark pains him worse than a broken heart. So he does the only thing he knows the best, he throws himself into work.

Little do they know that the universe doesn't make mistakes, and will keep pulling them together till they both truly see the truth for themselves.

Alec feels sick.

He’s planned exactly one hundred seventy events in his career, big or small. He’s got a stellar reputation, his own party planner business, his schedule is booked for the next five months in advance, and he’s put the full deposit down for his own apartment in the middle of the city, all at the mere age of twenty seven.

And yet, every time, those words are like a punch to the gut he would never admit out loud to anyone. It’s his own fault, he supposes. That he has to hear it so many times in just a week. And that every time, it’s a false alarm.

Well, all but one.

This one seemed different. This one felt different. At least for Alec.

But then, at the end, another one bit the dust.

Isabelle had warned him, when he showed her the words the day after his eleventh birthday. She’d looked so sad when he first told her about the career he’s chosen. Alec never understood why, until he heard those words for the first time at the first ever event he planned, a small, intimate birthday party for a Manhattan socialite.

Check it again, I’m on the list.

It had felt like he’d been electrocuted, and Alec had dashed outside to the door as fast as he could, pulling down a tablecloth with him as he went, the groans and yells of the restaurant staff unheeded by his heart. But it had been the grandfather of the birthday girl, and a voice in Alec’s heart told him to wait a little bit longer for his soulmate.

That voice had died down entirely after his eighteenth event.

Until this evening at the party at the Institute. Until he felt compelled to let that man in. Until Magnus.

And now, standing here, helping his crew clean up after the party, Alec feels his guts twist in a flurry of emotions he is too tired to process.

Fuck this . He’s just put on the most unique and successful party the business world of New York has ever seen. He deserves a break.

Alec grabs a bottle of whiskey on his way out.

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

The first time the words appeared into his hands, Magnus didn’t understand them.

It had been in a strange script, the letters so different from the ones he’d only started to get acquainted with. But by then he’d been part of something stranger, and started to live with a green-skinned man with horns and white hair who called himself a ‘warlock’, and had told Magnus that he was one too. So knowing his soulmate might be from a strange distant land didn’t seem as jarring as it would have been.

Then he’d lived through times that would have seemed as dreams in his childhood. He’d lived through his travels in the wonderful country of Peru, then had fallen in love with Imasu knowing he wasn’t the one, and had gotten his heart broken. Axel hadn’t even given him a chance, and from what Magnus saw peeking out of the cuffs of his shirt, he’d already found his soulmate in the French court.

The words didn’t lose their effect through the centuries however. Every time he heard someone say ‘ what seems to be the problem? ’, Magnus could feel his pulse racing, his heart swelling, his mind going berserk at the possibility of being united with the one he’d been destined to be with.

It wasn’t the case any of the times. Often it was a Shadowhunter, trying to maintain their precious Law so that no so-called troublemaker Downworlders wouldn't disrupt the precious ‘peace’ they insisted on withholding. Sometimes it was a particularly demanding client, and Magnus delayed more just to piss them off.

One time though, it was a Mundane who came to his rescue to smooth things over when the guard at a bar took offense at Magnus’s general existence. Etta had been a beauty both inside and out, and Magnus had been genuinely happy for her when she left once she found her actual soulmate.

It didn’t make him sad to lose her. She was a friend more than anything else, and her story gave him hope to hold on longer.

After that there was Camille. A force to be reckoned with. Camille, with her sharp edges and sharper fangs. Camille, who made him believe in a love through the ages, only to be betrayed brutally. Camille, who he was ready to beg to so she’d come back to him. Camille, who never told him that her soulmate died the day she was turned, which Magnus found out on his own the day after she cheated on him. Magnus had felt hollow, and empty, and felt like a fool for holding on to hope.

The day he finally closed hell off permanently, he’d lost more than just his magic. Magnus had given up on hope entirely.

Then there was that one boy at a party Magnus wasn’t even invited to. Alec had said those words, looking at Magnus with eyes devouring every single aspect of him. Magnus had half expected himself to turn around and leave. But then Alec had surprised him, and made him come inside.

But then there was a demon attacking Clarissa and the blond boy, the first demon in almost a century. And Magnus had almost forgotten about the boy with those hazel eyes by the time he rushed home, magic singeing the inside of his coat pocket.

It must’ve not been meant to be, Magnus thinks as he nurses the same glass of Rosé for almost an hour, the once warm bathwater now running cold. He pauses for a moment, thinking carefully about what he’s about to do.

Magnus waves a finger, the movement graceless, halted. But the sparks come out anyway, the bathwater warming, turning light pink as Magnus focuses on summoning a bath bomb from his collection in the cabinet near the sink.

Magnus smiles. His soulmate doesn’t want to find him. But that’s okay. He’s got his magic.

Everything’s going to be just fine.

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

Alec is, most definitely, not doing fine.

“I need this banner yesterday.” Alec rubs his temple letting out a tired sigh, “I literally needed that last night so my team can finish setting up, and now you’re telling me it’s still not ready?”

“I’m sorry, I don’t know what else to tell you. Our primary printer caught on fire and we had to unplug all of them to manage the fire before it went out of hand, and all our orders were cancelled from the queue.”

Alec scrubs his face with the back of his hand, and groans, “My assistant put in the request almost two weeks ago. This is for a dinner party at a multinational company, Andrew. And as we both know, the one of the only things those people spend ridiculous amounts of money on is the banner. I can’t throw a party without one.”

“I’m sorry, Mr Lightwood.” Andrew’s smile is genuinely apologetic. “There’s really not much we can do. If it helps, there’s another customer in booth number three whose banner we were printing when it caught on fire, and he’s been on the list for almost over a month.”

“Eesh, poor guy.” Alec winces.

“Tell me about it.” Andrew tsks. “And he’s a really sweet guy too. Some customers throw a hissy fit if we’re ten minutes late in delivering a order they’ve put in maybe an hour ago, and he’s really understanding and patient. But it’s for his psychic shop and he’s checking in maybe the tenth time now. Kaelie was just telling me that we might lose that account for good. I wouldn’t be surprised.”

Alec nods, then looks down as his phone pings with notifications from his team about going over swatch cards. “Andrew, is there nothing you can do? Is there no back alley super shady banner maker somewhere?”

“They make something vastly different than banners, Mr Lightwood.” Andrew chuckles good-naturedly, used to the antics of his long time customer. “Well, I could run to the place near 34th and Wilshire. My cousin works as a temp there. The price is way higher, but they can do a quick job.” Andrew taps away on his phone for a second. “Oh good, Artie says they’re open for another five hours at least.”

“Money’s not an issue.” Alec lets out a relieved sigh, and brings out his credit card. “You’re a lifesaver.”

“I know.” Andrew offers him a bright smile. “I’ll inform you as soon as it’s done.”

“Thank you.” Alec nods, before a thought flashes. “Oh, and, Andrew?”

“Yes, anything else, Mr Lightwood?”

“Yeah. I was thinking you could take the other guy’s order there too?” Alec jerks his head in the direction of the other booths in the shop, the silhouette of another customer visible through the blurry divider between the counters.

“That’s a good idea. I’ll ask him.” Andrew gets up to approach the man, but Alec stops him.

“Don’t tell him anything, just put the extra fee on my card.”

“But-”

“It’s okay,” Alec smiles.

Andrew shakes his head, his golden curls shaking with the motion. “You’re a good egg, Mr Lightwood.”

“Just paying it forward.”

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

The fire alarm goes off after the second time. Magnus groans as the noise threatens to invoke a migraine. At least he can use his magic to soothe it this time.

The same magic that caused the fire he’s been scrambling to put out for the past thirty seconds. For a small cauldron fire, the sparks are notoriously hard to douse. Being dormant for almost a century, and then suddenly trying to make a magical banner for his kinda-sorta psychic business would do that to a warlock’s magic, he supposes.

Maybe he should consult a spellbook or something. Only there’s no precedent for a banner making spell because graphic designed banners didn’t exist by the time magic was last used.

Well, first time for everything.

The doorbell rings, and Magnus sighs, trying his best to smooth down the no doubt wild hair he’s got from running his hand over and over through it. Pardon him, it’s been a very stressful day.

“Mr Bane? This is Sananda from the Banner Emporium. I have a delivery for you.”

The girl with a neon green streak in her braid hands him a large roll of paper, which Magnus holds up with more than a little difficulty.

“Sign here please.” The girl says, chewing gum disinterestedly. Magnus puts the banner down before taking the signing sheet.

“I thought the shop printer broke.” Magnus returns the sheet. “Did you guys fix it already?”

“No clue, I just work as delivery.” The girl shrugs. “My boss told me to make two deliveries only today, one to you and another to some party planner office. Guess they did some fixing, huh?”

Magnus smiles, tipping the girl a twenty. The girl offers a mock salute, and walks away humming the tune of a pop song. Magnus closes the door behind her, a smile slowly spreading on his face as he uncoils the banner.

Bane: Psychic and tarot card readings

It looks perfect. But Magnus doesn’t get long to marvel at it, because the phone rings. His old landline, which means only one person could be calling.

“Hello Ragnor.” Magnus answers, happy to talk to one of his oldest and closest friends after such a long time.

“Magnus, why didn’t you call me? I had to hear from Catarina that you might have met your soulmate?” Ragnor goes right to the point, tone accusatory.

Magnus takes comfort in the fact that while the whole world might change, Ragnor Fell, ever the a wonderful friend, never will. “I’m not even sure myself, how was I supposed to tell you? I’ve heard a thousand of those Ragnor, you know that better than anyone.”

“Still, Magnus.” Ragnor’s voice comes out tinny, “You don’t have to have the perfect relationship, because there is nothing like that in the world. All we can do is take a leap of faith, and hope that it’s not an abyss. But you have to keep taking that leap.”

“Why are you giving me relationship advice at what is supposed to be early morning at yours?” Magnus asks, eager to change the subject.

“Because I never needed mine, and I’m happy that way, yet I know how much you’ve waited for yours. One of these days, you’re going to have to seize the opportunity no matter what, and take a chance upon love.”

By the time Magnus hangs up, it’s been almost hours. Ragnor’s phones are a rare commodity, the warlock ever so averse of technology, and they do have almost three years worth of conversations to catch up on. Magnus is exhausted, and even though he hates admitting it, Ragnor is right. He could’ve stayed at that party, checked up on Clarissa and her boyfriend, made sure their memories didn’t resurface.

He could have stayed and danced with Alec too.

But he’s been so freaked out, he tells himself. He’s been out of his mind with worry for the demon attack and his magic and different worlds and his probably shoddy memory spellwork.

And maybe he’s also been afraid. Afraid that if he went after Alec, he’d risk everything, his life, his secrets, his meticulously prepared facade that he’s totally fine, especially with the explicit probability that he might not be Alec’s soulmate, even if Alec is his.

Ugh. Magnus scrubs his face with the back of his hand. What a mess this is.

Chairman struts his way into the drawing room, fresh up from a nap, and rubs his face into Magnus’s calf demanding pets. Magnus picks him up, scratching him under his chin. The cat purrs happily, and Magnus makes a decision.

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

“One honey macchiato with extra whipped cream please.”

Jace turns to see the man on the other side of the counter, a small frown on his face as he tries to place the face somewhere in his memory. Magnus shuffles from toe to toe, lips pinched together tensely. Jace regards him closely, and doubt rises in the back of Magnus’s mind.

Did he do a sloppy job?

It’s not an exact science, to be frank. Memory magic hardly ever is. It’s not quantifiable like potions, and definitely not by the book like a summoning. Memory magic is, at its root, intuitive. Blindly stumbling about in another person’s mind and hoping as hell that you didn’t erase some developmental memories.

And if anyone knows anything about Magnus, it is that he really isn’t a coffee man. Not anymore anyway. He used to be, once upon a bygone era, when waking up after a night of partying and starting the day with another bout of partying had to be connected with the help of a magically summoned cup of coffee. But those days are far gone, and Magnus mostly prefers his jasmine tea with a touch of honey. Which is why he came to Java Jace to check up on the blond. He’s no more his old self than his magic is controllable.

Still, he’d hoped that it would’ve come back like riding a bicycle.

That hope seems pretty bleak now, as Jace crosses his arms, narrowing his eyes at the man in a white cardigan in front of him. “Is this his way of apologizing to me after he criticized my barista skill yesterday?”

“Uh….what?” Magnus asks confusedly.

“I told him that honey macchiato is my least ordered item and literally he’s the only one who orders it and that’s why I have to keep an entire thing on the menu, and get honey from the supermarket too.”

“Sorry, I have no clue what you’re talking about.” Magnus winces.

“Wait, you don’t know the Lightwoods, do you?” Jace nods gravely, “And I just accused a customer for no reason at all, what a dumbass I am.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Magnus waves it off.

“No, no, seriously. Sorry man.” Jace goes to make the drink with a practiced hand. “But I have to say, you seem awfully familiar. Did I see you somewhere before? Maybe in college?”

“Uhh….” Magnus chuckles nervously, panic rising steadily in his heart, “I don’t think so. Unless you went to school in Indonesia.”

“That’s a no. Born in London but grew up here.” Jace nods. “Sorry, I can just really picture you and Clary inside a basement, I was there too.”

“Um-”

“Oh god that sounded so creepy. I swear it wasn’t something weird or anything, I can just remember feeling really scared all of a sudden. Maybe I should stop drinking from my own shop, huh?”

Jace’s casual grin does nothing to soothe Magnus’s nerves, and he smiles along politely, and sends wisps of magic through the minute contact between them as the barista hands over his order. Jace jolts immediately, looks down, curling and uncurling his fingers over and over.

“Everything okay?” Magnus asks tentatively. Jace throws an unsure smile his way.

“Yeah, just, almost burnt my fingers I guess. Hazards of working in the food industry, right?” Magnus doesn’t answer, instead brings out his card to pay, till Jace claps his hands loudly. “I knew it! I knew I remembered you from somewhere.”

Magnus’s heart sinks faster than lead in water, and he racks his brain for any spell that could come in handy for a quick memory erasure. Except it’s been over two centuries, and his memory is definitely not what it used to be when he used magic regularly.

“You’re that psychic right? The one Luke went to? You know, Luke Greymark? He owns a bookshop on the crossing of 22nd and Richardson.”

A breath of relief punches its way out of Magnus, shoulders sagging visibly. “Yes, I remember him. He’s a very good man.”

“He is.” Jace nods. “He’s my girlfriend’s godfather, actually.”

“Oh.” That’s all Magnus says, afraid to shake the still brittle effects of his spell. “Thanks for the coffee.”

“You’re welcome.”

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

“Dude, I almost lost a customer because of you today.”

“What?” Alec asks, half of his attention on his phone where his assistant’s been sending him swatches for their latest event. “No no no, pink’s all wrong.” Alec mumbles as he types, “Go for lilac, much more elegant.”

“Here you go, one honey macchiato with chocolate drizzle.” Alec reaches for the cup bindly, but is met with blank space. He looks up finally, only to meet with Jace’s unimpressed glare. “What? I’m arranging a gala for a very, very, very moody client. I mean ‘changes the guest list every three minutes’ kind of moody.”

“Ugh, whatever.” Jace hands him his coffee finally, wincing as Alec takes a sip of the still hot drink. “Seriously, how does that not burn your throat?”

“I’ve had a lot of practice.” Alec throws a lewd wink his way, making Jace throw a bunch of stirrers at him. Alec finally puts the phone down after a bout of rigorous texting, and looks up at Jace. “Now, what is this customer you were telling me about?”

“Just some psychic dude, came in and ordered that godforsaken drink you make me make you every morning. I half thought he was joking and you sent him.”

“I didn’t.” Alec shakes his head.

“Yeah, he told me. It’s all cool,” Jace shrugs. “Funny thing too, he seemed really sweet, and with a sweet tooth like yours. You would’ve liked him.”

“Uh huh.” Alec says off-handedly, already busy texting back to his team.

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

The last gala Magnus went to was in 1903.

It’s been a hell of a time. Quite literally too, since a hellmouth opened in the middle of the dance floor. It had taken all the warlocks present to close it, and even then they couldn’t have done it without the Shadowhunters pouring in with weapons drawn.

It had also been the last time Magnus ever used magic in battle.

It seems that way now, bringing out the outfits that found their way in the back of Magnus’s closet, unused and unneeded for decades after decades. Magnus had lost touch with his magic, all warlocks did, but for someone like Magnus, someone breathing and living in magic day after day, needing it like air in his lungs, it had been drastic.

Magnus had cut ties with almost all of his old friends. It hadn’t been intentional, for most of the cases. Just seeing those warlocks ready and accepting eternity without magic made him despair far more than the actual reckoning of it. Catarina still comes around every few weeks, more often if she’s exhausted after an especially gruelling day at the ER. Ragnor still sends letters every few years aside from his phonecalls, his horned friend adamant on keeping the beautiful traditions of penpals alive by his sheer force of will.

But somewhere down the road, Magnus had stopped being the man he once was.

The clothes of an era bygone stare him in the eyes as he brings them out one by one- shirts, pants, breeches, boots, accessories that museums would give a limb and a half for.

The reason for all this, lies heavy at his desk in this other room.

Malcolm Fade was a wild man while he had magic. After losing his soulmate to the whims of the Nephilim, he’d grown almost mad it had seemed, until he lost his magic as well. Magnus had visited him a few times in the past, while everyone was still reeling from the loss of the Shadow World. Malcolm had seemed like his older self, more cheerful, more present in general. Magnus had been glad to see his old friend coming back to himself, and hoped this change will continue to be good for him.

It seems that his love for extravagant parties has not changed however.

The pale lavender envelope was hand delivered almost two days ago, making Magnus lose enough sleep over it already. What does it mean to have been invited to a gala, while his magic is back and in such a precarious way?

Magnus had stayed up staring at the invitation for hours, until he had decided to go at precisely 3:47 am, and to conceal the return of his magic until absolutely necessary.

Malcolm may be a friend, but he's a friend who suffered the loss of a soulmate, who Magnus last remembers having the Black Volume necessary for necromancy, and who isn’t above violence to get his Annabel back, if history is witness.

It’s better to bide his time. Learn to control it better.

And there's still a tiny part of him that thinks this is all temporary, and that this too will pass like a phase of the moon.

Magnus doesn’t pay any attention to that part, instead gathers up some clothes to take to the tailor nearby for a quick fitting.

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

“Holy fuck.” Alec gapes at the fabric lying on the fitting table at David’s tailor shop. It’s practically Manhattan’s worst kept secret at this point, that while a big name company may provide you a great designer dress or suit, you always come to David and his wife Genya for fitting. He’s seen them work wonders with his most nitpicky of clients, and for all the business the Lightwood name brings, he practically has an open access to the place.

The fabric’s unlike anything he’s seen before, the threadwork in gold and the artistically arranged deep brown buckles might seem too much, but yet it all ties perfectly together somehow.

“Is it the fabric you’re making my waistcoat in? Please say yes!” Alec tries to make a pleading face, but Genya hits his slouching back with the back of her measurement board.

“Stand still. Or I can’t work on you, and you can go wherever you’re going in this weird bulging state.” If it had been anyone else, Alec would’ve had a comeback, but Genya is a force to be reckoned with, and that eyebrow quirk is sure to leave his gambit backfiring. So Alec keeps his mouth shut, and the ginger hums appreciatively.

“This isn’t ours, sorry Alec.” David answers him with an apologetic smile.

“All good.” Alec offers, standing as still as possible, so as to not anger the seamstress currently working on the seam of his cuffs.

“That’s actually from one of our oldest clients.” Genya says, her voice muffled as she turns to work on Alec’s pants. “He came in and said his great grandfather had this made from us in the early 1900s. Said he’s going to a themed party and needed a refit.”

“Funny, the party I’m arranging is also themed around the early twentieth century.” Alec nods, before rolling his eyes. “Though honestly my client has made it into an hodgepodge if you ask me.”

“I’m sure you’re gonna do a wonderful job either way.” Genya offers, David nodding along with his wife.

They always seem such an odd couple, Genya with her fiery heart and strong smile and eager to talk to everyone, and David with his quiet sketches and always busy doing something . Alec has never seen two people so opposite, yet so in love.

His soulmark itches in the corner of his ribs, and Alec moves involuntarily, making Genya tut loudly. He doesn’t have time to think about wherever his soulmate is, whatever he’s doing.

He can’t.

That’s why he took this gig, after so many of his friends gave up trying to coordinate with Malcolm Fade’s- ahem, eccentric- choices. They all warned him about it, about the insufferability of it all, but he needed something, anything , after that day. Because no matter what he did, those kind brown eyes would come back to haunt him in his sleep, the smile in them so cruel, so mocking.

Genya taps on his shoulder, shattering his thoughts for the time being, and Alec’s grateful for the little intervention before his thoughts could turn dark like they’ve been for a few days now. Alec understands it, has heard of it. It’s the lack of the bond while coming so close to his soulmate. The bond is snapping forward, trying to find its twin, only to meet with emptiness.

Alec wants to rip it out of himself.

“Everything’s going to be okay, Alec. You’re going to be okay.” Genya says, not unkindly. She’s always had the uncanny ability to understand exactly what goes on inside someone’s head, and no matter how much Alec tries, it works on him nonetheless. It used to unnerve him, now it just feels familiar.

“I’m going to be more than okay,” Alec jokes, trying to lighten the mood, “I’m going to be fabulous in this suit. You’ve truly outdone yourself, David.”

The man in question only smiles a little, while Genya looks over her husband proudly, love shining in her blue eyes. Alec looks away from them, the bond screaming all alone in his chest. It’s too painful to look at people so clearly in love.

“When they come back to pick it up, tell them I said they have excellent taste.” Alec spares one last glance at the cloth lying on the table, before walking out to the counter.

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

Magnus is late to his first proper gala in over a century.

It’s really the Chairman's fault, he sighs to himself. If the cat hadn’t decided to be an absolute arse today, he would’ve been out the door to get his waistcoat at least an hour earlier. It’s a miracle he’s not missing the party entirely.

Well, a miracle and maybe a little bit of magic.

Okay, maybe more than a little.

It’s dangerous to try out portalling at such an early stage of his magic’s comeback, Magnus knows. The theory has also been proven multiple times as he stumbled across a petting zoo in France and an abandoned ruins of a church in Rome for the past hour. It took him three tries to finally get the location right. At least, knowing New York traffic, he’s still earlier than it would’ve taken him in a taxi.

Maybe he shouldn’t have uninstalled uber so soon.

The doorman regards him closely, and Magnus feels himself stiffen under the strict scrutiny. He feels like an actor playing pretense, his clothes and makeup all done in the hands of a man he no longer is. But, it’s still fun to see so many familiar faces under the same roof.

Whoever planned this party did a wonderful job of it, Magnus thinks. The chandelier is reflecting all the disco lights currently hanging from the ballroom, a swath of artifacts and activities from several different decades all in the same place, as is Malcolm’s taste, Magnus remembers.

But there’s still order in this chaos, a type of organized mess of a beauty, and Magnus can appreciate it. His thoughts flow, unbridled, as he takes a glass of soda on the rocks from the bartender, about a similar party he went to not too long ago, and how everything changed since then.

His moment of tranquil appreciation is soon interrupted by a pink-skinned phouka slamming into him. Magnus loses balance at the collision, and the world flips the centre of gravity in a blink of an eye, his drink spilling everywhere.

“Shit.” Magnus swears low in his throat.

“Can’ye see w’er y’er goin’?” The phouka yells in a deep accent, startling Magnus.

“I’m sorry.” Magnus apologizes, knowing full well it was not, in fact, his fault. It’s not in his nature to cause conflict. Even if he’s the one drenched in soda.

Even if his magic is crackling at his fingertips for a retaliation.

“What seems to be the problem?”

Magnus feels his magic going into overdrive, his skin feels too tight- too hot- too everything . He’s feeling like he’s seeing the whole party from a different perspective, the colours feel more vibrant, the chandelier a little sparklier, the sweet stench of the spilled drink a little stronger.

He feels drunk without having a single sip of anything.

“This nothin’ nobody’s tryna ge’ in the par’y for a quick sip, I reckon. I doubt he’s even in the list Mr Fade gave’em.” The phouka gives him a dirty glance. Magnus considers baring his eyes- his true eyes- for him to see exactly who this ‘nothing nobody’ is.

He decides against it at the last moment, instead pulls himself to his full height, towering over the barely four feet tall fae. Magnus juts his chin out the way he’s seen his best friend do every time he asks Raphael for a movie night, puts his mask away, and buttons the open jacket, regardless of its now drenched state. “My name is Magnus Bane. Check your damn list again.”

“Magnus.”

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

Alec feels like he’s dreaming.

This party is a dream in itself, the setting is done deliberately to emulate a sort of dream like chaos. He’s chosen his own outfit accordingly, a white a black ensemble, with an elaborate angel mask that covers his cheekbones in what looks like wings.

He looks divine and he knows it.

He was ready to be a professional tonight, making sure everything goes off without a hitch, half because Mr Fade is late to his own party, and half because he had to be, because staying cooped up in his apartment with netflix and pizza sounds a lot less appealing than whatever happens here.

Even though his mind is swimming with pain from the almost rejected bond.

Even though the pain of it seems imprinted on his very soul.

But then there’s a disturbance, one of Malcolm’s tiny bouncers yelling at a man who smells like the kind of expensive soda Isabelle likes. A man wearing the same jacket Alec saw on David’s table only a few hours ago.

Alec had been delighted, ready to make conversation with the man wearing the jacket he’s been so fond of- the same man in that simple yet elegant black and white handheld domino mask, until he’d noticed his eyes.

Until he’d said those words.

Alec feels the floor tilt from under him, every inch of his body screaming to go up to him, to introduce himself, to dance with him until they can’t anymore. It seems like a different sort of madness, and Alec’s not sure he’s objecting.

“Magnus?” He asks, hope blossoming like ivy under his skin.

“Alec.”

His name on those lips is what leaves Alec undone. All his professionalism, all his suaveness, everything Alec Lightwood ever is or ever will be, concentrated on those two syllables from the man Alec has waited a long- maybe too long- to meet.

Alec starts forward, a step taken almost unconsciously, his words warm against his ribs. Magnus has put his mask down minutes ago, and as he looks at his face, Alec feels like he’s falling into a never ending tunnel of love.

Those simple strokes of metallic eyeliner, like starlight bathed in gold. And in between them, the kindest, most beautiful eyes he has ever seen.

“Magnus.” Alec chokes out again, unable to say anything else. Magnus stretches a hand out for him to hold, and Alec takes it like a drowning man being offered a raft.

It takes him a moment to realize that the words have stopped hurting, as if a simple touch from Magnus have doused the burning flame into cool waves of calm.

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

Magnus takes a leap of faith.

Alec’s voice feels choked, like it hurts him to breathe anymore, and Magnus feels his whole life flash in front of him, all eight hundred years of it. It’s been too long, far too long, since he’s taken a chance on love. He’s gone cozy in his little comfort zone, happy to stay unrejected.

But he doesn’t want to do that anymore. So he offers a hand, a simple gesture masking a thousand words.

I’m sorry it took me so long.

I’m sorry I ran away.

I’m sorry I didn’t look for you.

I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere else.

Alec catches his hand, holding him close like the only hope in his whole world, and Magnus feels like he’s weightless, floating on clouds.

“Dance with me?” Alec asks, the question more of a request than anything else.

Magnus doesn’t find it in himself to say no, and quite frankly, he doesn’t want to either. So he smiles, eyes crinkling with hope and happiness and possibility. “I thought you’d never ask.”

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

The fast pop music changes into a slow waltz as the two of them go down to the dancefloor, a round ballroom stretching almost fifty meters every which way. Alec pulls Magnus right underneath the enormous chandelier, the reflected golden light painting them both in halos. They sway together, happy to just be close for the moment, and Alec is grateful. He doesn’t have it in him to talk right now, not when everything feels too perfect and too much like everything he’s ever wanted.

Finally, the music ends, and Magnus looks at him for a long moment right in the middle of the dance floor. Alec feels uncharacteristically nervous, everything he is laid bare in front of his soulmate. But he doesn’t shy away, instead he meets his gaze head on, before Magnus grabs his hand. Alec lets himself be led out of the ballroom, away from the crowd, finally stopping at the adjoined balcony, away from prying eyes.

“I’m sorry about the other day.”

“I thought I’d never see you again.”

Both men speak at the same time, before pausing to comprehend what just happened. A small smile graces Magnus’s face, and Alec wants to live in it, revel in it, spend his forever in it.

“I’ll go first,” Magnus says, “I’m sorry I walked out on you abruptly that day. There was an emergency and I had to leave.”

“Emergency?” Alec asks, concerned, “Is everything okay?”

“Yes, of course. Everything is fine.” Magnus assures him. “Just- I told myself I left for that reason only, but the truth is, I was scared. I’ve heard those words a million times before, and every time they scarred me like a blade. I was so scared- scared of everything that I would be taking a chance on- afraid what I would be risking. I’m sorry. Really really sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologize,” Alec stops Magnus, clasping both his hands with his own, “I could have looked for you, tried to understand why you left, why you didn’t talk to me. I’ve heard my words too, over and over and over again. Until they hurt like a million paper cuts at the same time. And- and after you, I was so caught up in my own hurt, I didn’t stop to think there could be a second explanation.”

“I’m so sorry.” Magnus lowers his eyes, guilt overflowing his heart.

“Don’t be. Please don’t be.” Alec brings up Magnus’s hands, kissing them both, “You came back to me, that’s all that matters. I’m so so so happy to see you again.”

“This whole time I’ve been running up and down the whole city, trying to forget you somehow , but it’s like the more I tried to forget everything, the more the world just pulled me towards you.” Alec lets out a surprised chuckle. “I tried to plan a corporate party, but the banner place fucked up, and I had to get it done from somewhere else, and they told me about this other guy who’d been the same kind of bindup like me, and that he’s sweet and polite and that he’s been trying to get his banner for weeks, and all I could picture was you, and I just- I just couldn’t not help him.”

Magnus feels recognition hit him full force. “You’re the one who told Andrew to get my banner done in time?”

Alec stares at him for a full minute before speaking. “Oh god. Please don’t tell me it was you who went to Jace’s to get the same order as me.”

“You know Jace?”

“Our parents are high school friends, we practically grew up together.” Alec explains. “Honey macchiato?”

“Honey macchiato.” Magnus smiles, the two sharing a secret between just them under the night sky while the party rages on inside.

“And you were at David and Genya’s,” Alec says half to himself, before smiling mirthfully, “I told them to tell the owner of the jacket that they have great taste.”

“And?” Magnus goads him on.

“And I’ve decided that the owner has amazing taste, especially in soulmates.” Alec winks. “Though their taste is not enough to rival my own, because my soulmate is better, prettier, more amazing, than everyone else in the world. Brighter than all the stars in the sky.”

Magnus sputters for a second at the compliment, splotchy blush blooming on his golden cheeks as he ducks his head. Alec can’t stop grinning.

“Can we get out of here?” Magnus says in a stroke of sudden confidence, the surety in his voice evaporating as soon as the words leave his lips.

Alec makes an exaggerated gesture of being surprised, and Magnus can’t be annoyed with him even if he wanted to. “Mr Bane. Oh my. So forward.”

“You don’t have to.” Magnus adds quickly. “I get it, this is your event, and we can leave once it’s over. It’s okay.”

“I didn’t say that, Magnus.” Alec practically bounces the way to the reception, and signs off on a few papers, before explaining some things to his assistants. All the while holding Magnus’s hand in his own, like it’s his second nature by now.

Magnus feels like he’s walking on sunshine.

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

Later, Magnus and Alec stumble into his shop-in-apartment in Brooklyn, tangled together with limbs and mouths and hearts and bonds, losing touch with the reality of where one begins and another ends, words of love and promises whispered into every kiss.

I love you.

I’m not going to leave.

We’re together.

Everything’s going to be alright.

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

#alec lightwood #magnus bane #hmdiscord #malec #malec fanfic #jay.fic #mine #writing #my writing #this world inverted #twi!alec #twi!magnus #alternate alec #alternate magnus

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izzabeean · 3 years

Text

Chapter 5 : Impulse

SUMMARY

You've learned something you wish you didn't about Ushijima and now you wish you could forget.

pairing : ushjima x f!reader / oikawa x f!reader / iwaizumi x f!reader

genre : angst + fluff

word count : 2,836

tags : alternate universe - college/university, post-break up, friends to lovers, pining, slow burn

a/n : What can I say, Y/N has a bit of a sweet tooth! I mean if I spent a day in the city you bet I would be eating a lot of food. Or is that just me? Anyway, I am happy with how this turned out! The next chapter is going to be so fun!

Will try to post every Thursday evening PST, if not latest by Friday.

Hope you're enjoying the series so far!

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Today sucks.

After last night, you didn’t think it could get any worse, but you were so wrong. The sliver of hope that today was going to be a bit better quickly vanished in a matter of seconds leaving your heart even more shattered than you thought was possible.

So why?

Why is it that you saw the person you’d love the most with a girl you’d never seen before? As much as you wish it weren’t so, the evidence is right in front of you no matter how many times you try to push the image away.

Staring down at your soft serve ice cream, nearly melted, you let out a big sigh trying to repress the tears wanting to form. You wish your favorite flavor of frozen dessert could solve all your problems, alas, the rich creamy flavors only remind you of a date you had with Ushijima…

“It’s never too cold for ice cream,” you spout, arms linked with Ushijima marching your way to your favorite ice cream shop. It was this particular spot that made you realize Ushijima is more than what you’ve ever wanted in your life. You’d been dating for six months now, a new record in your love life, also a big surprise you haven’t tired him out with your nonsense.

Instead of arguing whether a cold dessert was an appropriate snack in the winter, he just let out a deep sigh in reply knowing you’re not going to be convinced otherwise.

“Don’t give me that,” you holler, covering your face in your hands, refusing to look at Ushijima.

Gently, he grabs your hands pulling them away from your face giving you a little kiss on the cheek in apology for his teasing.

“Y/N.”

Oikawa’s voice pulls you out of your bitter memory back to sitting across from him at a cafe. Your heart drops, realizing that there will not be any more moments like that with Ushijima. Did everything always remind you of him this much?

“You’re ice cream,” Oikawa says, eyes locked on to the dessert dripping on your hand.

Quickly you get up from the table grabbing some napkins to wipe up the mess you’ve made which resonates with you very well at this point. Not only are you emotionally a mess, apparently now you can’t even physically get a hold of yourself. Emotional pain is just temporary, yes, yet there’s this overwhelming feeling that makes you think your entire world is closing in on you.

In the process of cleaning up the sticky residue, you let out a growl noticing it’s dripped onto your palish pants producing a humiliating colored stain. You start pressing on the fabric in hopes your mishap would magically disappear… It doesn’t.

Oikawa peers down at your pants attempting to conceal his chuckle with a titter.

“It’s not funny,” you rasp.

But Oikawa can’t stop himself from bursting into a loud guffaw resulting in a free-flowing of tears.

Completely exasperated by the chaos, you throw out what’s left of your liquefied treat and sit back at the table covering your face with your hands. You didn’t feel in a rush to embarrass yourself more by strutting around the city with a large smudge of ice cream on your pants.

Once Oikawa gains his composure, he takes his jacket off and passes it to you across the table.

“You can hold this to cover it,” he offers.

The gesture feels loaded, like the true intent is much more devious than that, especially since he seemed to find it so amusing. There’s no way Oikawa could perform such gracious acts of kindness.

“Take it,” he says.

“Aren’t you going to be cold?” You reply, shoving the coat away with your hands.

Oikawa shrugs, “I’ll be fine.”

Giving in to his persistency, you take the jacket. “Thank you,” you breathe.

You watch Oikawa straighten out his shirt and fix his hair as a couple of girls walk by giggling, smiling at him, one even gives a little wave. It puzzles you how Oikawa can be such a dreamboat, from your years of friendship, his reputation borderlines annoying and childish, but the little gestures he’s made today have really made you rethink; this was a side to Oikawa you’ve never seen before.

On your way back to the train station, you look out toward the horizon and see the sun setting; pinks and oranges fill the sky, and the sight before you is quite romantic. The scene itself ended up turning out to be soothing despite the alarming encounter from earlier.

Now your new reality is finally setting in where there’s no Ushijima.

“I don’t want to go home,” you utter.

Oikawa studies you with your head hanging low. The glow of the sun coats you in its gleaming rays, he wasn’t sure if he was imagining things but he noticed the light capture a shimmer of a single tear tracking down your cheek. Then it finally resonates with him: you're not okay.

“Wish I could get out of these pants though,” you laugh. Then just like that, you revert to a smile.

“Let’s take you out,” Oikawa says.

“Out? Like to a club?” You didn’t fully expect any sort of resolution from Oikawa, your comment was meant to be rhetorical.

“Yeah! You, me, and Iwa! We never go together and it will be good for you to go out to have some fun!”

“I don’t know about that,” you sigh.

Oikawa’s eyes widen, the look on his face is full of excitement basically begging you to say yes. He must know you’re feeling vulnerable because it doesn’t take a moment more of hesitation to.

------

When Oikawa said he was going to take you out, he really meant it. The nightclub is lavish as loud music pulses in your chest while crowds of people huddle around the bar and scatter across the dance floor.

Oikawa could be considered an avid clubber, how could he not be when he is so popular with girls, and had always tried to convince you to join him. You never really have, but you’ve also never really had your heartbroken to this degree.

“It’s about to get even more crowded,” Oikawa yells into your ear.

10:13 pm on a Saturday evening and it’s going to get busier? Oh god.

Crowds aren’t your thing. Clubs aren’t your thing. Drinking isn’t really your thing. What are you even doing here?

“Shots?” Oikawa suggests pointing to the bar.

Your stomach churns at the thought. Diving into the night with shots seems excessive; they always leave a bitter taste in your mouth and the strong smell makes you want to gag. You wanted a drink to ease you into the evening...

“6 shots of Jäger,” Oikawa orders.

Maybe not so much tonight.

The bartender retrieves the alcohol and brings back six shot glasses, each filled to the rim of dark liquor. Holding the shot glass up to your face, the potent smell makes your nose scrunch. With a cheers, you throw back the alcohol and the sensation burns your throat; it’s awful. Knowing there’s a second shot waiting, you don't delay the inevitable.

“Someone’s eager,” Oikawa purrs watching you down the second shot.

The corners of your mouth turn down as the hairs on your back stand up. You let out an ick and turn to Oikawa and Iwaizumi who are both in awe of your tenacity. Truthfully, you were shocked too. Then all the tension in your body seems to disperse, from the day, from entering the nightclub. You finally feel relaxed.

“Am I going to be waiting for you all night? Or what?” You tease eyeing their untouched liquor.

Both men look at each other and take the shot in one gulp. Calling over the bartender you order another round, this time they’re a lot easier to take.

“You’re really not playing around,” Iwaizumi teases, impressed that you’re able to down three shots in a matter of minutes upon entering the venue.

Shifting your gaze to Iwaizumi, he looks so hot in his black button-up shirt with the top two buttons undone. A warm feeling fills your chest, you didn’t know if it was the alcohol hazing your perception or you were genuinely starting to crush on him.

Damn it, you think to yourself while your eyes continue to linger on him.

Considering your current situation, the smart thing to do here would be to do nothing. On the other hand, you couldn’t help that your heart fluttered in Iwaizumi’s presence. Surely, he didn’t realize the meaning behind his words but it brought you lower into the sort of absolution that you were definitely forming a rebound crush on him. But you couldn’t let yourself. Of course, if you did, you were bound to hurt Iwaizumi and your friendship with Oikawa. You had to stop yourself before it was too late.

Oikawa’s eyes fall onto you, noticing your ogling. You seem to illuminate with this glow he hasn’t seen all day and for a split second, he is fueled with irritation at the sight. But catches his outward anger and pushes it down, gaining composure.

------

Keeping up with Oikawa for most of the night was a bad idea. Certainly, it didn’t occur to you until you stumble into the bathroom all by yourself, realizing you were most definitely unable to stand straight without help.

Check yourself out in the mirror, you pull out your phone to take a raunchy selfie. You smirk at yourself checking the photo before posting it to your social media story.

That will show him, you think, hopeful Ushijima will see the image you’ve posted. He’s not the only one who can have fun.

Before even pressing “post” you get a text from Oikawa asking where you are. You giggle as you type come find me and press send with the intention of finding him first.

As you leave the bathroom, you begin to scan the crowd for Oikawa or Iwaizumi trying to recollect where you last saw them. The crowds of people in the vicinity make it practically impossible and the further you walk into the nightclub, the louder the music gets, the brighter the lights are, the warmer your body feels.

All you wanted to do was get out.

Stepping outside, there’s this instant relief from the crisp evening air although it doesn’t last long, and soon a violent shiver courses through you. Turning around to go back inside the bouncer stops you then points to what seems like an endless line of people.

“B-but, I-I just need to get my jacket,” you stammer.

“Sorry, ma’am. You’re going to have to wait in line,” he booms.

Your outward calmness cracks, too anxious to even think up an excuse. You needed to find Oikawa or Iwaizumi and you need to find them now!

You turn your attention back to your phone as you begin to type out a text to come meet you outside the club.

“Hey sweet cheeks,” a raspy voice calls out.

You look up and see a rough-looking guy in line making intense eye contact with you. Normally you don’t judge, but your drunk bordering wasted self notes this man was very sketchy and it’s best to avoid him. So you turn your back to him and call Oikawa instead.

“Hey don’t ignore me,” he yells.

You start walking in the opposite direction from the line as far away from the stranger as possible. You’re a bit worried he can still see you and slip into an alley beside the nightclub, the phone still ringing on the other end.

“Pick up. Pick up. Pick up!!” You mutter into the receiver. Oikawa doesn’t, so you try again.

“I don’t like being ignored, sweet cheeks.” The same raspy voice makes you jump as you turn around to see the scraggly man backlit by fluorescent streetlights, only making his appearance more menacing.

The call goes to Oikawa’s voicemail again.

“Guess your friend ditched ya,” he continued walking closer to you. The statement sobers you up as his aura escalates to a more threatening demeanor.

“They said they’ll just be out,” you squeal.

“Yeah?” The stranger keeps shortening the distance every step. “Why don’t you come with me?”

He’s so close now that you can smell his disgusting breath and you start to panic. “I-I can’t, I’m waiting for someone, th-thank you though.”

Why the fuck did you say thank you? Your brain screams at you.

“Oh come on sweet cheeks,” he coaxes, reaching out to clasp on to your wrist. “I’ll show you a good time.”

Your body freezes at his touch. It stings as a sharp pain from his grip makes you want to scream or cry, but the shock was melting your ability to. You felt so useless and timid in times of distress. You didn’t know what to do, you couldn’t escape searing clutches of--

“What do you think you’re doing?” A deep voice thunders.

The stranger turns to see the culprit and you slowly glance to see Iwaizumi with an intimidating aura protruding from him.

“Just having a nice talk,” the stranger purrs, tightening his grip more and you let out a little yelp.

“Is that what this is? She looks pretty scared to me,” Iwaizumi retorts.

“This’ none of your business kid,” the stranger rages.

“Actually it is,” he demands stepping closer. “Let go of her.”

A vein on Iwaizumi’s neck pops out as his hands start to ball into fists. Now the stranger is intensely regretting his choice and you can sense it from the fact he’s visibly shaking. You are nearly on the verge of tears from the pain in your wrist and wonder if he was going to break it.

“Let go,” Iwaizumi orders again.

And this time he does, the man, nothing but a weak buffoon, frees your wrist and walks off in a trudge.

“You okay?” Iwaizumi walks over to you to take a look at your wrist.

You nod, letting out a deep exhale trying to hide how petrified you were while holding your wrist.

“Does it hurt,” he asks, gently applying pressure to it. “Let me take a look.”

Initially, you flinch at his touch, afraid the searing pain will return, instead, his fingertips lightly trace your wrist while analyzing it thoroughly.

“Let me take you to a hospital to be sure.”

“No, no,” you breathe, locking eyes with him. “I’m fine, just a little sore.

Iwaizumi’s face flickers with a bit of uncertainty but decides not to push it and lets go of your wrist to take out a cigarette.

“Fuck,” you hiss. You felt like an idiot for going off on your own, for drinking this much, for going out at all. “I’m sorry.”

Deeply inhaling the smoke, he turns to you, “For what?”

“For running off by myself, and you totally just saving my ass. It’s just… pathetic,” you exclaim, reverting eye contact with him-- you’re slightly embarrassed and his silence is only telling, considering you barely know each other. “I swear to god, I’m not normally like this.”

“It’s not pathetic,” he states, shrugging his shoulders. “Oikawa says you’re dealing with shit.”

Your reaction isn’t short of an embarrassment. His words hurt you as the scenario of Oikawa telling Iwaizumi about your break-up fills your mind. You scoff. “I’m fine!”

“You’re a horrible liar.” Iwaizumi didn’t have a problem calling you out as you stared at him after a few moments of silence.

“So what am I supposed to tell him?” you mutter, this surge of anger sweeps over you, you feel this swell of rage boiling inside. “That it’s ok to see my ex, not even a day broken-up with a new girl? It’s fucking bullshit!”

He turns to look at you and blinks at your reaction. The sudden unexpected word vomit makes you pause.

“Sorry… I didn’t mean to take it out on you,” you whisper. “It’s just weird, you know, all of it. I didn’t expect to be blindsided like that. It’s just…” You look over to Iwaizumi listening intently to you and feel your face grow hot. “Oh my god, I’m sorry! You never asked.”

It’s awkward and quiet, you’re pretty sure Iwaizumi can feel it too. You’re puzzled with what to say and feel pressured to express a less depressing answer. You didn’t want to drop the mood of the evening. In those moments, it became apparent you needed to sober up.

“Can I have one?” you ask.

He looks at you with wide eyes, “You smoke?”

You take out your lighter that you have stowed away in your purse flaunting it as evidence of your new bad habit. Iwaizumi tosses you the pack of smokes.

“You’re not going to tell on me, are you?” You’re trying to sound like you’re joking but a hint of worry seeps through and you’re left waiting for a serious response from him.

“Your secret’s safe with me.”

#haikyuu x reader #haikyu x reader #haikyuu angst #haikyuu fluff #oikawa x reader #oikawa tooru #oikawa x y/n #iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi hajime

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letterstomilen · 3 years

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i discuss the classification of igneous petrology as you fall asleep during my lecture (PART 2) (ASMR)

Childe/Zhongli, Alternate Universe When Childe's younger sister tells him about the volunteer at the library, he does not make the connection between that and his new favorite ASMR YouTuber, Rex Lapis.

Childe’s unfortunate love life starts at the age of eight. He, of course, did not call it “love” when he’s eight. When he was eight, he plucked a couple of weeds and sunflowers from his neighbor’s garden before he went to the park and handed them over to a classmate he doesn’t remember the name of now.

Handed over is an understatement here, seeing that she fell over from him shoving the flowers towards her chest before declaring, “Please marry me!”

In hindsight, storming over with the delicacy of an elephant with two left feet was not the best idea. But as somebody who recently discovered that watermelons could not grow out of your stomach no matter what, he was not the brightest. (Lumine now would argue that this is still the case. Unfortunately.)

She, as all eight-year kids would when faced with a loud boy that shoved you to the ground, started bawling. It didn’t help that Childe wasn’t aware of the fact that some worm wriggled in with the weeds and sunflowers he uprooted, with said worm now wiggling on the glittery, cursive ‘i’ in ‘Magical’ on her t-shirt.

This promptly resulted in her mom heading over and a long talk over dinner that night on why you should not ask girls to just marry you at your age.

“So I can ask boys then, right?”

Pleased with the loophole he discovered at age eight, Childe toothily smiled at his mom, who sighed and shook your head.

“You can’t ask anybody to marry you when you’re eight. And please don’t throw flowers at them too.”

The stolen flowers resulted in him being on his neighbor’s blacklist for the next couple of years; this in itself was fine, seeing that Childe was always a bit of a troublemaker and it was bound to happen at some point. However, the crying girl left a big impression on him even as he got older.

It did help that the older he got, the more silver-tongued he became, but this resulted in short-term relationships and a famous incident that once got dubbed ‘Tartaglia’s Shakespearean Slipup.’ (It involved a drunk retelling of Macbeth, several dumb questions, and a shirt that could never get the stain washed off of it.)

So in short, Childe’s love life is, to put it bluntly, a travesty. It has been downhill ever since he was eight years old, and nearly two decades later, he’s sure that he finally hit rock bottom.

“Tonia,” he begins, wondering how his little sister could be so cute yet so cruel at the same time, “what did you not tell Zhongli?”

“Hmm… Oh, I didn’t tell him about your obsession with his channel!” And cue the self-satisfied smile before she took another sip of his coffee.

Oh lord, she learned it from him.

“Anything else?” he presses, wondering what kind of image he has of him now — definitely not a good one. No amount of smooth talking or knowledge about petrology could save him from his past mistakes. He’s sure that Zhongli would not take kindly to the plethora of times that his insobriety has made him infamous among certain groups of people.

And he’ll admit just to himself, he was wholly unprepared for this. He couldn’t even be lulled to sleep by his voice last night — which is unfortunate because the series where he discussed the inspiration behind Tao Yuanming’s work just came out and if there’s one thing Childe likes, it’s poetry — because he couldn’t stop himself from thinking that he knew who he was.

Except not as Childe. As Tartaglia, his younger sister clarified, ever so proud of herself that she taught somebody how to say his birth name correctly, never mind that it stumped even the most persistent of professors.

“Not really! He said he likes listening to me brag about my older brother! ‘Cause he’s an only child and everything. Actually… he mentioned that you’d like to hear your stories sometime. Sweet, right?”

“My stories,” Childe echoes slowly. “The ones I told you when you were a kid? The fairytale rip-offs?”

“Yup.”

“Including the one where the kids locked the evil queen up and used her Magic Mirror to cheat on their tests?”

Admittedly, he was a bit lazy with that one. But Tonia was just eight and Childe was half-awake, trying to remember the difference between Hudibrastic and hija. So, like any good literature major with a bone to pick with their academic advisor, he decided that he’d very subtly rehash Snow White and make it all about cheating. (On tests of course.)

“Yuup. They got in trouble, right?”

They didn’t, but his mom would have his head if he said otherwise, so he smiles at her, ruffles her hair, and says with the attitude of a picture-perfect older brother, “Of course. The evil queen immediately sent them to the dungeon. So don’t cheat, okay?”

She nods, rewarding her compliance with another sip of his coffee. The library is fairly close to their apartment, as all things in Liyue are. A tightly packed city by the sea where you were sure to know everything about your neighbor and their neighbor. Which meant that the tenants next door still remembered when Childe first moved in and spent a week high on ambien, only to invest his time in writing a paper about how Snowpiercer was the sequel to Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory. (When they spoke for the first time, they asked politely if he could please turn down the volume, because it was difficult to sleep when your neighbor watched the two movies consecutively with the volume all the way up at three in the morning, don’t you think?)

(The paper ended up being legible to only the most dedicated of readers anyways.)

Deciding that they’re an appropriate distance from the entrance of the library now, Tonia stops walking and drags her brother towards the benches. “Now, before I take you to meet Zhongli, I just want to ask you one thing.”

He looks at her expectantly, wondering if she’s going to ask if he remembers what Lumine said. Don’t embarrass yourself, don’t act shady, and before you do something—think ITWTWW? (A.K.A Is This What Tsaritsa Would Want? A joke that arose after a particularly hellish class last year after the professor’s attention towards Childe was a source of debate—did she hate him? Did she think of him as her son? Did he—a suggestion brought forth by Aether—remind her of annoying neighbors that’d spend all night partying? To this day, he still doesn’t know.)

“What is it?”

“Did you bring your library card?”

“Huh?”

It turns out, Childe learns five minutes later with relief that his long-forgotten library card was collecting dust in his wallet, that Zhongli has a limit on books he can check out because he’s always forgetting them. And his overdue fees are quite an impressive sum—both for a library volunteer and anybody that’s frequented a library for the past decade.

But to the library’s great relief, he’s only checking out books nobody has ever checked out in the past so by default they belong to him now. (No harm no foul—unless you’re the occasional poor individual that has to research an incredibly specific and niche topic only to find out that the book is not in the library at the moment.)

Tonia sounds immensely proud of herself as she informs him of this while they wait for him to finish help somebody find a book. Help is an understatement, Childe realizes, as he watches Zhongli talk, smiling as he ensnares the visitor in an answer to a question where “yes” or “no” would have sufficed.

It’s ridiculously cute. Really. Tonia seems used to this sight as she drags Childe closer to the two. Zhongli must’ve realized that he slipped into a tangent because he apologizes and points to the nonfiction section before opening his book once more.

“Oh… I forgot.” Tonia purses her lips the same way Lumine does as she sighs, lowering the hand that she was enthusiastically waving moments earlier.

“Hm?”

“He won’t notice us. Ah, Zhongli,” she says melodramatically while they watch him flip through pages in a book, her tone every bit the longing princess in books they poured over when she was younger. “Why can’t you see us? Isn’t my wonderful big brother enough to catch your attention?”

He’s very flattered. Really. He knows that compliment was partially influenced by letting her have a lion’s share of his drink and Lumine’s sarcasm, but he takes it in stride, squeezing her cheeks. Tonia rolls her eyes in response, and heads over to Zhongli, chatting him up quicker than Childe can respond.

“And this is my older brother,” she introduces, gesturing her hand towards Childe, who smiles brightly, hoping he looks every bit the composed person he doesn’t feel like right now.

Zhongli is just as charming in person and it doesn’t help that just the realization he’s standing right here makes Childe’s pulse race, contributing to his increasingly forced smile that he reserves for uncomfortable situations. Oblivious to that, Zhongli smiles at him—one that is ingrained in his memory from days of watching it on loop —and says, “You must be Tartaglia, right? Tonia told me a lot about you.”

Oh fuck.

His first thought: of course she told him about him. He knew beforehand, the dread of being characterized through his sister’s dramatizations of Childe’s mistakes. It’s partially why he could only get up this morning through two cups of coffee and dunking his head in the freezer for several minutes.

But also his name—

Childe’s torn between asking why the hell his sister told him his real name or excusing himself to go read a dictionary to cool his nerves. Even though he’s well aware most of his family calls him Tartaglia still—mainly his parents when he’s in trouble (which, to be fair, is most of the time)—most people in Liyue call him Childe for two reasons.

One, Tartaglia is a mouthful and two, after many questions about how his name was pronounced only to get it butchered on several occasions, he’s stopped. (Scaramouche, Tsaritsa, and Signora are the only ones who call him that at this point, really; but he’s convinced Scaramouche does it just to vex him.)

“Yes,” he chokes out. “That’s me. Tartaglia.”

Childe decides that if Zhongli would just say his name and nothing else, he would die happy. Which is a mortifying thought but maybe a little bit of an upgrade from falling asleep to listening him talk about rocks. Isn’t it?

“You can call him Childe,” Tonia offers. “My brother doesn’t like it when people call him Tartgalia.”

His mouth forms an ‘o’ out of realization and sheepishly says, “My deepest apologies, Childe.”

“N-no—” Childe starts, his sister’s expression burning into the back of his head. “It sounds really nice when you say it. Call me Tartaglia—anything you’d like, really.”

“Oh, yeah. I forgot.” Tonia smiles mischievously, implying that she never forgot all along as she raises a finger to her chin in mock thought. “You watch his ASMR channel, don’t you?”

“You do?”

They both turn to Childe, who’s sure this is turning into an interrogation; their burning gazes, the expectant silence, and a question he’s reluctant to answer.

“Yeah. I’m a huge fan,” he confesses brightly. “My favorite series of yours is the petrology one. It felt really nostalgic.”

He never thought he’d remember high school clearly ever again, but the videos made his classes a little less lazy. And the heat of the sun on the back of his neck as he slept in class would follow, lulled to sleep by a lecture he couldn’t quite remember. But he recalled his friends’ amusement clearly when they asked how he managed to sleep nearly every class, only to get a cheeky smile as an answer.

“Is that so? May I interest you in some books then? There’s quite the collection here, although I’m not sure which would interest you the most then. Any preferences?”

Ohhh, his expectant look was so cute. But Tonia looks bored at the prospect, so he clears his throat instead.

“Actually, I came here to check out Legend of the Lone Sword so I could follow along with your newest video,” he finally says. “Could you show me where it is?”

“Hmm… We do have two copies but unfortunately both have been checked out. One has just been checked out by Xingqiu and the other… ah, it’s still at my house. We’re having difficulties with the video unfortunately because Venti said… now what did he say?” Zhongli asks himself, humming as he takes out his phone and reads out loud.

“’Find somebody that’s willing to record the video and help you set up b-c’… er, before Christ?”

“Because,” Childe clarifies.

“Thank you. ‘Because I can’t do it without laughing’,” he finishes before sighing. “Also several crying emojis followed by a wine emoji and a suggestion for me to find Diluc…? There are also several other texts that I would not be able to read out loud but that’s the gist of it. As soon as I manage to find somebody, I’ll be able to return the book so you can check it out. My apologies.”

Diluc? All Childe remembers about him is what Lumine once said about him.

‘I was convinced him and Kaeya hated each other until I found out they were siblings.” A pause. Then: ‘I’m still fairly sure they hate each other. They’re at each other’s throats a lot. Diluc more so.’

He had not considered him to be a rival in love. Granted — that’s limited information from several years ago but it’s not as if Childe knows that many people outside of his own department. But still.

Eager to save any chance of a love life, Childe says, “Why don’t I help you record?”

“That’s a great idea! Then my brother can read the book while he stays over. Right?” Tonia presses on, smiling far too brightly for his taste as Zhongli muses, considering the possibility.

“Are you sure that wouldn’t be too much trouble?”

Childe nearly stumbles at the sight of his relief. Really, his smile isn’t good for his heart—neither is the look he gives him, as if he hung over the moon that very moment. “None at all.”

“What a relief… I’ll tell Venti immediately that I can record the ‘ASMR: Boyfriend Reads to You’ video.”

—What?

Zhongli looks up from his phone after he texts his friend and tilts his head slightly in confusion, his earring brushing against his shoulder.

He looks adorably concerned and maybe a little bit aware that he’s responsible for Childe’s reaction. “Is there something wrong?”

“N-no. Nothing. That’s great. Good. I’m excited to be your boyfriend.”

Tonia lets out a little giggle and he’s sure that there’s somebody at the library silently praying for his downfall as he hurriedly corrects himself. “For the video, of course. Should I give you my number so we can set a date?”

Not deterred by Childe’s flustered expression, Zhongli nods as he hands him his phone. Maybe this is what he expected—that’d most likely be the case if most of his prior knowledge about Childe came from Tonia, who delights in both embarrassing and complimenting her brother like there’s no tomorrow. “Of course. Please give me your number.”

So with the shame of a college student that never managed to shake off his competitive streak from high school, Childe types his number in and promises himself that this won’t happen again.

(His younger sister lords it over him anyways on the way home, a skip in her step as she recalls it.)

Childe 2:34 i got his #

Twin 1 2:35 for the video recording*

Twin 1 2:35 u also embarrassed yourself. tonia told me all about it lol

Ugh. Of course she did. Childe peeks his head into his sister’s room, hearing her recount the library incident with a few more exaggerations poking fun at what he did than he’d like. Aether must be having the time of his life, which should make them equal considering that Childe made him think that Scaramouche was the best TA ever and would be even nicer if you made him an apple pie. (He hated apples.)

Well. They’re even now, aren’t they?

Childe 2:38 ya but he didn’t notice so its ok. BTW neither of u told me he was that airheaded

Twin 1 2:38 itd be funnier that way

Childe 2:39 oh yeah it was really cute

Twin 1 2:41 didn’t need to know that. anyways u do know how to work a camera right?

Childe 2:41 yea…? who do you think takes all of tonia’s pictures

Twin 1 2:42 no i mean like actual professional cameras used to record

Hm… That was a bit of an oversight on his part, wasn’t it? He texts a quick ‘yeah’ because it couldn’t be that bad and he’ll watch several videos on how to work a camera later, won’t he? There should be three buttons max. Easy.

Not to mention he took an elective on film and he’s watched Zhongli’s videos more times than he can count at this point. So really, there’s not much to worry about. The only problem is that he needs to build up immunity.

If he looks like a “blushing maiden”—Tonia’s words, not his—every time Zhongli looks at him, wouldn’t that be trouble? It’s bad enough that he embarrassed himself in front of his twelve-year-old sister but to look like a fool in front of the same guy his sleeping schedule depends on would be debilitating in more ways than one.

Deciding that he won’t let himself lose this time around, he sends a quick text to Zhongli saying ‘Saturday at 4:00 PM, right? See you there :)’ to psyche himself up before deciding a plan of action. There must be something that’ll impress him—no, completely sweep him off his feet.

More aware than ever that he’s fitting the image of a lovestruck idiot his sister painted him as, Childe watches his phone as it pings with a single ‘OK’ and ‘I am looking forward to working with you’ trying to convince himself that his erratic heart rate and the heat rushing to his face is just a side effect of working with somebody that he greatly admires. (It is, by all accounts, infatuation — but he’ll try to ignore that for now.)

#Genshin Impact #Childe/Zhongli #Childe & Tonia #Childe & Lumine #asmr fic p2 #asmr fic

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the-sexiest-avenger · 3 years

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Moments: a soft Stucky one-shot

I wrote a fanfic at 2am so I guess I'm a real tumblr user now! This domestic scene takes place in a post-Endgame, pre-TFATWS AU where Steve didn't stay in the past with Peggy (but he did retire from hero-work so Sam can take his rightful place as the next Cap! Not that that's relevant at all to the story but I feel like it needs to be said). Anyway, I hope someone else enjoys reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it.

Bucky's dream of waiting for toast in a crowded kitchen began to fade as his ears discerned a warm voice calling his name.

"Bucky."

And again, more firmly.

"Buck."

He felt his body tense, and fought every defensive instinct to snap his eyes open and lurch to a seated position. He had only been dozing, and had thus retained enough consciousness to know that he was in a safe location. He just couldn't remember where exactly that was....

"Buck, c'mon."

Ah yes, that voice brought it all back clearly: the apartment with too many windows, the creased leather couch that he hadn't meant to lay down on, and the gorgeous face that went with that familiar voice -- the face that brought him more joy than any other.

There was silence from that voice now. Bucky could sense the impatient gaze of the accompanying face. He waited half a moment longer, figured he'd most likely been made, and decided to turn himself in.

"Mmrrrrrrr," Bucky let out a half-hearted groan, mildly disgruntled at being awoken from his tranquil daze, but feeling agreeable towards the cause of the disturbance.

"I know you weren't sleeping, Buck."

You don't know anything, thought Bucky. He wouldn't dare say it though. He was too tired for a fight, even a fake one. He would absolutely get his ass kicked.

"C'mon, get up! Is this what they taught you in the 107th?"

Finally, Bucky cracked an eyelid. He slid his gaze towards that voice, that face.

Steve stood by the mantel on the other side of the living room, arms crossed and one eyebrow raised, the cocky pill.

"For your information," Bucky decided to risk the ass-kicking, "I only dozed off because you were taking so damn long."

Steve gave a short laugh, raising one hand to comb through his hair and inadvertently putting his musculature on full display, while the other hand dropped to his side and found a home in the front pocket of his jeans. Bucky knew for a fact that Steve owned six pairs of those exact jeans, and a dozen cotton t-shirts identical to the one he wore now, in colors ranging from white to medium gray. How many decades out of the service, and the man still seemed most comfortable in a uniform.

"Well my apologies, Sergeant!" Both eyebrows were back in the air, lips pulled into a tight, sarcastic smile. "For what it's worth, I'm ready now."

Bucky tried not to grin like a damn fool; he allowed one corner of his mouth to indulge in an upward turn. He shifted his weight onto one elbow, feet falling gently to the floor, and rolled his shoulders once with a click before standing and crossing the short distance between himself and his partner. Post-serum Steve was a hair taller than Bucky, whose super-soldier initiation, so to speak, had not included the growing of tissue via nifty Vita-rays. It was a running joke amongst their friends that the two of them made a compelling case for name-brand medication as opposed to generic alternatives. Though they had both lived more of their lives as super-humans than as unenhanced fully-grown men, most of that time had been spent apart: in cryogenic freezers, or buried in the Arctic, or brainwashed, or fighting The Big Three, or snapped out of existence, and so on. Consequently, every now and then this not-so-new height difference threw Buck for a loop, as it did now.

Bucky looked his partner up and down, taking in the physical changes, reflecting on the constant of their emotional connection. Yes, Steve was now more...well, everything, but his features had always been classically handsome, and from their first meeting Bucky had been drawn to the passion, loyalty, bravery, and integrity that comprised Steve Rogers.

All this ran through his mind in what felt to Bucky like an instant. Surely he hadn't even had time to blink before the thoughts and memories had passed. To the thinker, it is often the case that great expanses of time feel reduced into mere moments. But to those waiting for an answer, or an action, those instants can expand into infinity.

Steve was in this state now, watching his Bucky, the man he felt closest to out of all the inhabitants of the known universe (and Steve had known many more than most folks). He waited as patiently as he could, while Bucky stared into -- or perhaps beyond -- his soul.

Just as his recollections retired and full awareness was regained, Bucky found himself disrupted from peaceful existence for the second time in less than ten minutes. Steve's lips were on his lips, Steve's hands cupped his face, all the little points of their bodies -- noses, feet, arms -- were coming into contact with one another. Steve was taking over again, acting like he knew everything, like he knew what was best, like he knew what Bucky was thinking.

Fine, he knows, Bucky conceded. He would happily lose this fight.

#stucky #oneshot #fanfiction #bucky barnes #steve rogers #the avengers #avengers fanfiction #avengers au #mcu #marvel #captain america steve rogers #the winter soldier #the winter solider fanfiction #captain america fanfiction #m/m fiction #stucky fluff #stucky fanfiction #mine #my writing

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glitteratti · 3 years

Note

Is there a correct way to watch Naruto?

just in order is fine for naruto! it mostly just comes down to how much filler you're willing to put up with, since the anime has just an INSANE amount of filler episodes. i watched all of them out of sheer stubbornness but they can get really annoying after a while -.-

there are some really good filler arcs though! if you choose to skip the fillers i do still recommend going along and just looking some of them up on the wiki, because some of them give more focus to background characters or are just really silly and fun! some shippuden arcs i highly recommend watching for the sake of fleshing out the story a bit more ARE

57-71 - fleshes out a background character's history and goes really well with the arc that comes after it

91-112 - probably one of my favorite arcs! it introduces a really cool jutsu and some new characters who i just LOVE. really really sweet relationships in this one too guren, yukimaru, and gozu deserve the WORLD

144-151 - fleshes out an incredibly minor background character, but i think it adds a lot to the story! i also just like this background character a lot so i AM biased here

347-348 - just adds on to the arc that it follows in a way i really liked

349-361 - if you like kakashi this arc is GREAT. it goes into his backstory and time on anbu, as well as the backstory for yamato, who shows up a lot in shippuden

432-450 - i just think it's neat! this one is explicitly an alternate universe from canon where a LOT of things are different and a lot of dead characters are still alive. it's an interesting look into how things could have gone, but doesn't have any impact on the story as a whole

464-468 - i NEED to plug this one because it provides background for my all time favorite character. it makes her feel a lot less one dimensional and just gives some of the later lore feel like it wasn't added last minute, but feel free to skip if you want because i am purely including this for selfish reasons of loving kaguya too much

and for GOOFY filler episodes that are just insanely dumb and delightful, part 1 episodes 101 and 185, and shippuden eps 181, 183, 185, 189, 191, 194, 230, 241, 376-377, and 469 are GREAT. purely stupid fun times

if you don't want to see people get shoved into loveless heterosexual marriages, stop after episode 479. i watched everything right up until the end and did enjoy it, but 479 is honestly a really good stopping point and nothing past that really adds much, although 494-500 do have some genuinely sweet and funny moments!

as i said before though there are a LOT of fillers that focus on background characters, so if you find yourself liking someone a lot just glance over the wiki pages for the filler episodes/arcs and you'll probably find something!

ANYWAY this post got a lot longer than i meant for it to vbksbsaf. this is all completely hypothetical and i maintain that the best way to watch naruto is to not watch it at all <3

#.txt #ask #cutthroatkitteh #naruto #WRITING THIS OUT MADE ME REALIZE I ACTUALLY REALLY LOVE THE FILLERS IT WAS SO HARD TO CUT THEM DOWN THIS MUCH #left them off for the sake of not having this post be a million miles long but. anko and kurenai fillers my beloved.....gasp choke wheeze

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pop-punklouis · 4 years

Note

top five HL fanfic!!!!

biiiiitch you all know how hard it is for me to choose only 5. but sigh FINE here’s my all-time favorite list that isn’t 5 sorry i can’t choose 😔:

• Here in the Afterglow (89k)

“If you hadn’t noticed, I don’t have many friends,” Louis whispers, the blossom of insecurity in his stomach unfurling and clawing its way into his throat.

Harry is silent for a long time, and then he speaks; a soft, slow uncurl that makes Louis’ stomach shake. “I’ll be your friend.” 1970’s AU. In a tiny town in Idaho, Louis’ life is changed forever by the arrival of a curious stranger.

• Coax the Cold (86k)

England, 1897.

English Professor Louis Tomlinson’s passion for the occult has been a source of mockery and derision for most of his life. When he hears whispers of a travelling freak show newly established in London claiming the existence of a monstrous sea hybrid, half-man, half-fish, Louis sees it as his ticket to credibility amongst his peers. The summer he spends undercover working on the show, however, gives him much more than that.

• Wild and Unruly (124k)

Harry is a cowboy sitting on the biggest oil reservoir in Wyoming, and Louis is the paralegal assigned to pressure him into selling his land.

• This Wicked Game (70k)

An AU in which The Bachelor is gay, Louis is a contestant, Harry is the bachelor, everyone drinks a lot of champagne, the entire world gets to watch them fall in love, and no one plays by the rules.

• Love is a Rebellious Bird (135k)

AU in which the boys still make music. Louis is the concertmaster of the London Symphony Orchestra, Harry is the New! and Exciting! interim conductor/ex-cello prodigy who "has made Mozart cool again" according to Esquire Magazine (Louis hates him immediately, which is definitely why he internet stalked him in his dark bedroom late at night that one time), and Niall is the best. Zayn and Liam are around too.

• Fixated On One Star (53k)

Louis is just a boy with the world on his shoulders, and Harry's just a boy from the wrong side of the galaxy. A little thing like love doesn't stand a chance against a thousand years of war, at least until the right two come along to break the mold.

Or: space Romeo and Juliet AU

• Finding Lou (60k)

Louis is the nomadic stranger who wanders into Harry’s bookstore. Harry is the skeptic who falls for him.

• California Sold

Notoriously closeted boyband member Harry Styles is famous on a global scale, meanwhile Louis, as his best friend, is back home in Manchester, living the typical life of a 24 year old. When Harry needs Louis with him in LA, a publicity stunt gone wrong changes their friendship forever.

A fake-relationship AU between two lifelong best friends.

• Empty Skies (134k)

For three years, Harry has been running from his past. Now, he is moving to London and pledges to fulfil his only dream -- making it big in the music industry. Not everyone has a place, though, and the competition is tough. As is his past catching up on him.

Louis is part of the biggest boy band of the world, and getting there had meant a lot of hard work, as well as sacrificing parts of his heart and soul. He's still happy. Maybe not as happy as he could be, but who is he to complain?

• And Then a Bit (159k)

“We’d like to give the fans what they want.” Magee states, placing his hand on the table in front of him and leaning forward. “We want to give them Larry Stylinson.”

Or, take a parallel universe where Louis and Harry were never together, mix in a two year hiatus and an impending comeback, pour in a dash of lost fans, two tablespoons of strong friendship and a Modest! employee with a good idea. Add a squeeze of pretending to be a couple, lots of kisses and a tattoo or two. Stir. Serve: the mother of all publicity stunts. (aka Harry and Louis fake a relationship for publicity. Eventually it becomes a lot less fake and a lot more real.)

• Dream Awake (31k)

The sun leaks through the tent wall behind him the way it leaks through eyelids, bathing the boy in an ethereal half-light as he croons. The crowd is mesmerized. Louis is mesmerized. This is the most important person in the world, he thinks wildly, and then can't figure out how to take it back.

On a hazy day in August, Louis sees Harry perform at a music festival as an unsigned act and convinces him to spend the rest of the weekend in his company. Harry gets signed; life changes. They never really wake up from the dream.

• Say You’ll Remember (93.5k)

au. louis and harry are best mates that are only half aware that they're also soulmates. alternatively, louis goes to university and harry travels the world, and they always manage to find their way back to each other.

takes place over nine years, in which they love and hurt, make mistakes and learn, and above all, grow.

• Outwit, Outplay, Outlast (61k)

Survivor All-Stars AU in which Harry and Louis are just in this game to win the million dollars, but they end up with something better.

Featuring Harry's yellow swim shorts, Louis in snapbacks, and OT5 shenanigans.

• Nothing Else But Us Right Here (35k)

Louis sighs and gives himself a mental pep talk as he smooths his jumper down over his hips. He can do this. He can resist the draw of Harry Styles, because he is a responsible, mature adult, and as much as he wants to tangle his fingers in that mess of hair and map those ridiculous tattoos with his tongue, he does not want to get his daughter’s favorite teacher fired.

• Wings to Break Your Fall (103k)

strip club AU. Harry’s work and family are keeping him busy. He really isn’t looking for a relationship, doesn’t want one. He just wants Louis. Problem is, Louis has other plans.

• Leave it to the Breeze (81k)

Louis couldn’t be prouder of his bake, but there’s something—there’s something. Something about Harry Styles and the earnest way he measures, pours, mixes, scrapes. Something about the tip of his tongue poking out of his mouth as he knocks the air out of his batter.

or a great british bake off au in which louis cares about winning and winning only, harry is made of sunshine and rainbow sprinkles, and niall sticks his nose into other people's business. also featuring liam as louis's best friend-slash-concerned mother, and zayn as a macaron connoisseur.

• You Come Beating Like Moth’s Wings (81k)

Harry smiles. He's only known Louis for about two hours, knows nothing about him past his first name, but he's nice and sarcastic and helpful and so, so pretty. And Harry's still got a few days left in Barcelona, and he thinks he wouldn't mind spending them with Louis.

Also known as, Harry takes the summer before uni to travel Europe and meets Louis in Barcelona, and they end up traveling together.

• Hold Me Closer (36.5k)

Louis Tomlinson is one of the most promising dancers of the English National Ballet, on track to become the youngest principal dancer in the company's history. That is, until forces conspire to significantly complicate his life, including: a surprise ballet, an unfairly attractive guest choreographer, and being pushed into a rivalry with his best mate. Featuring lots of wine, dancing, pining, and a happy ending.

• In Vogue (121k)

Fashion AU. Louis is the editor in chief of Vogue magazine, and Harry's running British GQ. Featuring Zayn as the crazy creative director and Louis' confidant, Liam as the sports writer that gets to sit front row at fashion week and DJ Neil as the only sane person in the whole story. (There are no skinny jeans in this fic)

• These Things Will Never Change for Us at All (1.5k)

The room falls silent as they stay wrapped up in each other. Harry can feel Louis’ soft breaths on his neck, and he almost thinks Louis’ fallen asleep until he says softly, “How did you know you were in love with me?”

Or, Harry and Louis look back on five years.

• A Runaway American Dream (15k)

AU. they take route 66 with only each other and their secrets.

• Things Have Gotten Closer to the Sun (49k)

it’s strange, making the choice to face his past—it almost feels like he’s heading for the sun straight on, like he’s screaming come on and burn me, i deserve it.

when a solar flare is announced to end the world in twelve days, harry reunites with the people that he used to know better than the back of his own hand.

• Here (in your arms) (60k)

the one where Louis is a successful real estate agent and Harry works at a retirement home. They’ve never had a real home. Up until now.

(Starring Liam Payne as a fitness trainer, Zayn as an artist, and Niall, who busks.)

• These Inconvenient Fireworks (190k)

Future AU in which nobody tries out for X Factor but the boys end up finding one other eventually anyway. Louis is a jaded bastard who owns a cat named Duchess and teaches drama to teenagers, Harry is an idealistic aspiring photographer/part-time footy coach, Zayn teaches English lit and wears leather jackets, Liam saves people from burning buildings, and Niall is Niall.

• In Dreams (23k)

AU. When Harry moves to a new city, his new flat come with a number of sweet, anonymous gifts and surprises that brighten his days. Could it be a friendly ghost? Another friendly presence in his new building is his tattooed neighbor, Louis, who seems determined to put a smile back on his face.

• My Heart is Breathing for this Moment in Time (160k)

When Louis first saw Harry at the 2010 X Factor Auditions, he thought he was watching a peculiarly special stranger. But Harry has known Louis ever since he was five years old. Because Louis has a rare genetic disorder that causes him to Time Travel to important moments in his past and in his future - and to Harry, always to Harry. When they’re put into a band together, it seems like everything Harry has been waiting and wishing for has finally come true. Except for the small fact that Louis doesn’t know that Harry is in love with him- that Harry’s always been in love with him. Fate, it would seem, is just getting started.

A story about growing up and growing together, and the impossible love that makes it all worthwhile.

• Paint the Sky with Stars (63k)

On 10 April 1912, Harry Styles boards the finest ship the world has ever seen. Still grieving the death of their mother, he and his sister are being sent to America to live with a callous uncle who cares more about his business connections than family. Harry prepares himself for a long, disappointing voyage alone in his stateroom. Louis Tomlinson has borrowed and saved, and finally has enough to purchase a Third Class ticket to America. With all of his belongings in a single ruck sack, he boards the Titanic filled with hope for a brighter future. Never one to sit still, he can’t resist exploring the massive ship, and soon goes sneaking into First Class in a stolen steward’s uniform. By a twist of fate, Louis finds himself in Harry’s stateroom, entranced by the most attractive man he’s ever laid eyes on. He keeps returning day after day, even if he doesn’t understand what it is about Harry that continues pulling him in. That’s all right; Louis has a week to figure it out, and Harry is plenty willing to help. Except they don’t have a week. They have four days. Because on 15 April, their entire world will be turned upside down.

Or, the historically accurate Titanic AU with a happy ending.

• Through Eerie Chaos (102k)

For as long as anyone can remember, Old Hillsbridge Manor has always been believed to be haunted. Everyone in the village agrees and keeps a respectful, fearful, distance. New in town after a bad breakup and an internship that led to disappointment rather than a permanent job, Harry Styles figures taking pictures of the decrepit building could be a great new creative project. Or at least a much-needed distraction while he searches for a job and crashes at his parents’ new house. No one warned him about the apparitions though; about the music, the laughter, the people who flicker and vanish when you call after them, the echoes of a past that should be long gone… Harry has never believed in spirits but even he can admit that there’s something weird going on. What starts as mere curiosity evolves into a full-blown investigation and soon enough, Harry finds himself making friends with an aristocrat from the 1920s and struggling with finding the best way to tell him that he’s dead.

The Ghost Hunter AU where Niall lives to prove ghosts are real, Zayn is a skeptical librarian and Harry gets caught up in a century-old mystery and catches feeling in the process.

#whew!#favorite fics #grey

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shootingsun · 3 years

Text

First Time For Everything

Yes I wrote over 3,000 words of Platonic Felila fanfiction. No I don't regret it.

@shslharrisonkinnie I finished it, Lila now has friends, yayyyyy

#Give Lila a real friend 2021

Class was tiring, Lila thought, starting aimlessly into space. Who would need this stuff when she would end up being rich and powerful anyway? She didn’t even know what the lesson was about, it didn't matter to her. Lila looked at the board and tried to pull her head out of the clouds. But it was no use, so she thought, she thought and thought.

"Please come in Miss Rossi," The doctor's had said to her. She remembered questions, about her home life, about her school, about her as a person. But. She had lied, she said things were fine, they weren't. She had told them she had friends, she did, but not exactly good ones. She had told them about her glamorous life, full of adventure and intrigue, the kind of thing adults ate up. They hadn't believed her.

There were more tests, she had lied her way through those too. She hadn't exactly wanted to lie, it just happened. Lila "Lie-a" Rossi, that's who she was, no, who she is. And so, when the letter had came back in the mail, it hadn't really been that much of a surprise.

"Lila, honey, come and talk to me," Her mother had said, before explaining her disorder, to a 12 year old Lila, this had been fine! It just meant that she was good at telling stories. That was what she did to everyone, spin them pretty stories. About her. About them. About others. About anything really.

"Tell me about yourself Miss Rossi?" My name is Lila, I've stared in movies, ("Why haven't you shown us them, Lila?") I fly on a private jet, ("When are we gonna get to see it?") And I know a bunch of celebrities! ("Stop lying to everyone!") She could spin her stories well, she had found.

'Compulsive Lying Disorder' that was what the doctors had called it. She had passed the test with flying colors.

"Alright class!" Miss Bustier cut through Lila's thoughts like a knife. "We have a new transfer student coming in today, so please treat him the same way you treat each other. Félix? Will you come in please?"

And then… Adrien came into the room?! But that can't be right, Adrien is sat at the front of the class with that Nino kid. Besides, Adrien doesn't wear a turtleneck. The class murmured amongst themselves about the model's look-alike. Lila was stunned. There were two of them now??

"Hello, I'm sure you're all wondering why I look so much like Adrien. Well, that's none of your business, but if you must know - we're cousins. My name is Félix, that's all you really need to know about me." The boy in grey said.

"Well… that was- anyway! Félix would you sit next to… Lila! Go and sit with Lila please," She smiled at him and gestured to the empty seat next to Lila. He shrugged and walked to the seat, placing his bag on the ground next to the chair.

Now that she could look at him better, she noticed the differences between Félix and Adrien. Félix carried himself with something that Adrien lacked, although she wasn't sure what. Félix wore a dark grey turtleneck that contrasted Adrien's famous snow white jacket. It was like looking into an alternate universe. What Adrien could have been…

They sat in silence for a while as the teacher talked. Lila hated the quiet, her house was always so silent and still. Félix kept his head down and scribbled away at a notebook. She tried to sneak a peak, just to see what he was writing about, but his hand covered the writing almost instantly. He stared at her.

"Do you need something?" Félix deadpanned. "Or are you just being nosey?"

Lila blinked. How dare he? Nobody at the school talked to her like that! Nobody ever talked to her like that, not since… not since-

"Li-la!" Noemi, her sorelle called out to her. "Come over here!"

Lila was 7, at the time, and loved Noemi more than anyone in the world. Her sister was the sun and Lila was the planets. Noemi was the epitome of perfection. Perfect hair, perfect style, perfect tan, perfect skin, perfect smile. Lila wanted to be just like her.

"Wow Noemi, your sister is like a mini you!" Her sisters friends giggled. Lila liked it when people compared her to Noemi, it meant that she was doing something right.

Besides, the teens weren't wrong. Lila wanted to be like her sister. Neomi wore a pleated baby blue skirt, a black blazer, and a tucked in white shirt. She was so beautiful, at least, in Lila's eyes she was.

"Lila, didn't you get the gymnastics solo in your class? Noemi told us all about it. Congrats! You have such a talented sister Noemi!" The teen girls smiled down at her, but Lila was confused.

She hadn't gotten the solo. Lila was the understudy, whatever that meant. So she told them the truth. That she didn't get the solo. The girls got angry at her, and at Neomi. They left, her sister wasn't pleased.

"Why couldn't you have just gone along with it?! Huh?! Don't you get it, people like you more if your an interesting person! And now you've ruined it for me!" Neomi had screamed in 7 year old Lila's face, which made her cry.

"Don't be pathetic Lila! God. You're hopeless."

"B-but I don't understand! Why would you lie to them if they're your friends?" Lila sniffed, trying to wipe away the tears.

"Lila, it's not lying if you tell them what they want to hear, is it? And besides, keep your little nose out of my business!"

"Hello? Lila Rossi? Are you still here?" Lila blinked and came back to reality, Adrien's clone was waving his hand infront of her face. Rude.

"Ugh," She pushed the hand away from her face. "Yes I'm still here and- wait. How do you know my full name?!"

"Adrien told me, Miss Rossi." His green eyes were like steel, unmoving and cold. "We talk a lot, so I know things."

"Oh yeah? Like what?" She raised her eyebrows, he doesn't know anything about Lila. Not even Lila is sure if she knows anything about Lila.

"Hm, I'm not sure, you seem to be a walking contradiction, Miss Rossi."

"Honestly! My name is Lila," She doesn't tell him how much she hates it, and how even though she's carrying the name of the man who left them, Rossi sounds better to her. "How would you like it if I called you Mister…"

Then Lila realised that she doesn't know his last name.

"De Vanilly, Graham De Vanilly." Then he smirked, just a little, and she wanted to finish her sentence and her thought but Miss Bustier interrupted again!

"Alright kids, we're gonna have a science project in partners this half-term! So I'm gonna read off the pairs, and then you guys can get started on this after school, okay?"

"Zoe and Sabrina, Nino and Luka, Chloe and Ayla, Rose and Juleka, Alix and Mylene, Kim and Max, Marinette and Adrien," Lila glared at the mention of that girl. "Lila and Félix."

Absolutely not!

Lila's hand shot up. "Um, actually Miss Bustier? My parents don't like it when I work with other pupils and so I can't work with Félix!"

"You didn't seem to have an issue when you were working with Adrien on the last project Lila?" The teacher stared at her.

She opened her mouth, not really aware of what she was saying. The story's flowed out of her, winding and winding, coiling up almost everyone in the room. The coils seemed to cut into her. She couldn't help it, and it didn't matter. It doesn't matter.

But she still had to work with Félix. How unfair!

"Well then, come in I guess." Lila held the door open for him.

"Thanks Miss Rossi." He stepped into her room and glanced around, it was a nice room! What was his issue?

"Why do you call me that anyways? It's weird." Lila scoffed, flopping onto her bed. Félix took the seat across from her.

"Oh, I have a system."

"A system? For names?"

"Yes, if you're an acquaintance I call you Mr/Miss/Mx whatever your last name is, family I like are called by their first name, family I don't like are called by their function to me, and friends are either called by their names or a nickname." Félix said, waving his hands slightly as he spoke.

"Huh, so I'm an acquaintance then?"

"No you're a family member- of course you are." Félix said calmly.

Lila made a small mental note to refer to him as his last name, just to annoy him.

"Speaking of family members, did you know I'm distantly related to the British Royal Family?" No! No! Stop talking! Lila wanted to scream.

"Really?"

"Yeah! And I know tons of celebrities, like-"

"No offense, but I think that you're lying to me." De Vanilly stared at her. Lila recoiled - just keep talking! Make him believe you!

"What?! No! I would never!" Yes, Yes you would Lila. You know that you would so why do you say things like that? Bashing her own head into a wall or taping her mouth shut seemed like very favorable options to Lila in that moment.

De Vanilly was quiet for a while, looking around the room. His green eyes settled on her bookshelf. What is he looking at? Lila wondered before realizing. Oh, oh no. He pointed to a picture.

"Is that you?" He asked, moving over and picking the picture up carefully.

The picture was one from Lila's childhood, a family photo of one of Lila's gymnastics contests. Noemi, her mother, and Lila were all staring into the camera. The photo was taken after Lila had "won" the contest. Lila hadn't won, Lila came fourth. But her sister payed to have an exact copy of the first place medal made. They had taken the picture a few days after the actual contest. Neomi was smiling, but it didn't meet her eyes, her mother was looking the other way and Lila, despite her forced grin, looked like she was about to cry.

"Uh yeah, it's a medal that I won, it was awarded to me by Alberto Busnari. Cool right?" She just hoped her smile didn't look pained.

"Yeah, who's that then?" He pointed to the triumphant Neomi, if the medal wasn't around Lila's neck, you would have thought Neomi had won there. Maybe, in a way, she had…

"Oh, that's my sister Neomi," Lila said, wincing slightly, looking at the picture, she looked so much like her.

"You look like her." He looked between her and the picture twice, before settling on her face.

"Well, I'm not her okay?!" Lila hissed. Before covering her mouth with her hands.

Older students.

"Oh isn't that Neomi's sister?"

Her classmates.

"I've heard of Neomi, she's like insta famous! You're so lucky!"

Even her teachers!

"Ah Rossi, you must be related to Neomi then. You have a lot to live up to!"

It was always "Neomi this! Neomi that!" Never about Lila. People only ever liked Lila when she lied.

"Are you… okay? You're shaking." He reached out to touch her.

"Of course! Why wouldn't I be?! By the way, did you know that I-" Lila turned her brain off as she spoke, rambling about celebrities and adventure.

The boy only looked at her with concern.

It had been two weeks. Two weeks before the incident. De Vanilly had been working with her at Lila's house ("Anything to avoid my uncle," He had said) and their unstable opinions of each other had gotten quite better.

They were walking together, Lila needed to see the counselor for her… condition. And De Vanilly wanted to learn the school's layout, so he went with her. It had been going fine. Things had been fine.

They weren't fine anymore.

It wasn’t Lila's fault. Another lie, designed to make her feel better. She hadn't looked, and ran into that stupid, clumsy girl. Marinette Dupain-Cheng. She had tripped, her bag fell to the floor and although she hadn't seen it at the time, her diagnosis papers fell out. Marinette had scuttled away, and Lila clambered off the floor only to see, Vanilly going through her stuff?!

"What are you doing?!" She had yelled, snatching her shoulder bag and papers out of his hands.

"I picked up your stuff. You have Compulsive Lying Disorder?" He had looked at her dead on, bluntly.

Her heart rate quickened. She blinked rapidly. No no no no no, this won't happen again! It won't! It… it can't.

"No! Shut up! I don't have that because if I had that then I would be always lying wouldn't I? And I don't tell lies so why don't you take your false accusations of me and go away!" Lila turned tail and ran out of the school, heart pounding out of her chest, eyes stinging.

Lila gasped as she reached the park near school. This went wrong, so wrong. Now she's gonna have to transfer schools again and she'll be all alone and tell more lies and- Lila vaguely felt tears run down her face. She clutched the diagnosis papers in her arms.

"Guys, guys! I wanna tell you something!" Lila had waved her friends over, excited to tell them about her new label for her mind.

She had tried to explain her disorder to her supposed friends. She had tried, but by then, her friends had already thought she was a liar. And the label, was just the proof they needed. She had only wanted to tell three or four people until she was comfortable.

The next day, when Lila went to school, everyone avoided her. Everyone stared. This went on for two weeks, her trying to reach out and being rebuffed for her efforts. She was confused, they were her friends… weren't they?

Then, the nickname came, nobody addressed her as Lila anymore. It was always "Lie-la" or "Lie-a" with special emphasis put on the lie sound in her name. Eventually, even the teachers called her "Lie-a". And Lila the Liar was born.

Kids would push and shove her in the halls. Then, when Lila accused them, they would just say "Lie-a is just lying! As usual." And they would believe them. Nobody believes a liar.

And soon Lila didn't have any friends at all, no one could trust her not to tell her lies and not even Lila could help but believe them. She was bad. She was awful.

She was a liar!

Her mother moved to Paris. Lila went with her. A new school, a new chance.

Just tell the truth, she had repeatedly told herself, just tell the truth! Another lie that she told herself. She lied to Ayla, she lied to Adrien.

She lied to everyone.

And then, and then! This stupid girl had the nerve to accuse her of lying (Marinette was right). She had the nerve to point out the flaws in her story (It wasn't Marinette's fault that Lila had lied in the first place). And then she told her to stop lying!

...like it would ever be that easy.

But the truth? The truth was that Marinette was the person Lila had wanted to be. Talented, special, honest, LOVED. That was the reason why she hated her. The real one.

"It's called lying!"

"B-but I don't understand! Why would you lie to them if they're your friends?"

Why would you lie to them if you just want them to be your friend Lila?

She hadn't even seen the Akuma coming. It was flying toward her quickly, she gasped. Not today, not now. Please, please! Lila doesn't want to be akumatized again, not right now! Was that pounding noise coming from her? From her beating heart?

It wasn't.

Hurry, hurry! Kali demanded in his head.

Félix was running, he had to get to Rossi. He hadn't meant to find her diagnosis papers, she had to have had a reason not to tell the other pupils about it. Whether it was privacy or a previous experience, everyone deserved the right to tell things when they felt comfortable.

Judging by the look on her face, she was clearly distraught. Félix, for some stupid reason, wanted to make sure she was alright. Make sure that his Uncle didn't get to her first. And he was right. Lila was sobbing on the ground, and although he couldn't see it - Kali could sense the akumas presence.

Watch out! The kwami yelped to him.

She tilted her head up, and there was the Akuma. Ready to pounce. Félix wouldn't let that happen, he may not be a hero, but he has an ounce of compassion!

Lila recoiled, trying to escape the Akuma but- someone jumped in the way… a blond boy wearing a grey sweater?

He winced as the Akuma went into his ring. The boy sharply inhaled. He went completely still for a moment. No…

His head dipped. No, no…

He clenched his fist. No, no, no-!

And then he laughed. He brought his head back up and relaxed his hands, all while laughing.

"You seriously think that I want to help you! That's pathetically naive and genuinely sad. I would never betray my loved ones. Not. Ever." Her acquaintance declared, scratching his arm up and down, the Akuma flew away.

Lila was speechless.

"I- you- Akuma- what?" She forced out, De Vanilly turned around to look her in the face, and he was smiling? Stranger and stranger.

"Didn't you know? Physical pain can ward off Akuma's, only if you don't have the negative energy though," He bent down and sat with Lila on the floor.

"Oh, I bet you're wondering why I followed you. Well, I wanted to apologize. It wasn't right of me to look through your things like that, it was an accident, but I'm still in the wrong. I hate to think what would have happened if I wasn't quick enough…" He placed a hand on hers gently. She looked him in the face, green met green.

"You, you took an Akuma for me." She was confused, nobody had ever done anything for Lila without her having to convince them to. But this boy, who was barely even her acquaintance, had saved her.

"Yes, I did."

"You won't tell anyone right? About my whole disorder thing because then-" She was interrupted.

"Not until you're ready." She smiled gratefully at him.

"Well then, Mr. Graham De Vanilly, it seems I'm in your debt." She said, taking his hand and standing. Although the idea of owing someone made her slightly uncomfortable, maybe he wasn't like most people.

"It seems you are," He began to walk away, heading for the gate to the park.

Her owing someone was something that Lila was unfamiliar with, how did it even work? Would he just tell her what to do or demand something of her. She wasn't sure.

It didn't matter though.

Because, it wasn't like he wanted her around. She was just an acquaintance, he had only helped to make himself feel better. Lila would never have a real friend. Lila had never had a real friend.

That was fine.

She would learn to live with it. Probably.

He stopped.

But then again, Lila thought.

"Actually, I do have an idea of how you can pay me back,"

A real friend might be nice.

Lila whirled around to look at him. "You do?"

Maybe she did want one?

"Yes," De Vanilly said, green eyes glittering like a peridot gem.

Lila did want a friend. But she could never have one.

"How?" She insisted, anything to repay her debt and keep her secret, even if it was embarrassing or annoying.

"You could call me Félix."

Lila Rossi had never had a friend, but there was a first time for everything.

18 notes · View notes

naturedust · 3 years

Text

The Arcana characters during the Covid-19 pandemic: Part 1 (Asra, Julian, Valerius)

hi everyone! i felt really happy whilst writing this. in each set of headcanons, the apprentice lives with that character! i don’t specify if there’s anything romantic or sexual going on between them though. this is VERY detailed, i’m still writing out muriel, nadia, portia, and lucio’s headcanons so they’ll come in part 2 <3 i hope you enjoy!! AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27529276/chapters/67324228

Asra

asra hosts weekly magic workshops (covering very very basic magic) with the apprentice over microsoft teams 💻 each workshop has a small fee, with all proceeds going to local vesuvian charities like mask suppliers, and food banks (who he tries to donate extra food to every week) supporting the poorest amongst their population. it was the apprentice who first suggested he do this, on a day he was feeling really afraid in the face of the pandemic.

i think he has days when he feels really helpless and trapped – and it runs a little deeper than cabin fever and restlessness. other than the pain he’d experience if he lost the apprentice again, being unable to do things freely is the worst situation he can think of... as much as asra prioritises the apprentice’s mental health, he doesn’t practice emotional expression a lot. he truly strives to be there for the apprentice and even when he remembers how they suffered after coming back...asra only cries silently at night when they are asleep – when he knows they can’t hear him.

that’s part of the reason why he’s always seemed so mysterious in the game — growing up without his parents meant that he learnt to push down his fear and put on a brave face... and one of the reasons why he goes on trips without much explanation is to escape reality for a bit. he lets his vulnerability show only on the worst of days (like the day the apprentice died). on days where asra feels really afraid of the world and defeated, the apprentice takes over his shop duties and brews much more lapsang souchong than usual to comfort him. so much that even passerbys outside the shop are caught in the smokiness of it! unlike the red plague, every community in the world is affected, and there is nowhere for asra to escape to. this includes nopal. after vesuvia’s Covid-19 situation gets better though, he and the apprentice stay there sometimes as a mini vacation of sorts and it brings him peace 🏜

asra’s leading an effort to make high quality masks more accessible to vesuvians. in fact, that local mask provider i mentioned earlier is his initiative. he set it up after seeing people buy all the beaked plague doctor masks (the PPE of vesuvia) that actual working doctors need access to. he would never admit it but, when asra thinks about the doctors, julian is the first who comes to mind. anyways, the masks asra designs are stunning. he spends tireless nights testing their 3-ply efficacy, and they aren’t just plain blue or white – there are intricate details imprinted on them through his magic 🔮

i think asra would also be really into coming up with new herbal concoctions for customers, after he notices how tired people look from being indoors all day – for example, he’s developed an immune system-boosting drink that’s a gorgeous swirly purple colour 🍶 it’s similar to traditional chinese medicine. also he only uses ethically sourced, 100% local herbs (by local, i mean from nopal and the tarske forest, where muriel helps him collect wildflowers and herbs!!) 🌿 he uses spells to counter the toxicity of his favourite belladonna flower and it becomes a superfood staple of his concoctions

he goes out every couple of days just to gather herbs and ingredients for aforementioned concoctions, always prioritising the ones he makes for the apprentice and always making those sweeter, taking more time to create colourful depths in them that resemble galaxies. asra also makes particular effort to bring back a wide range of fruits from his local trips as it always cheers the apprentice up 🍈

asra invents the most effective, affordable, environmentally-friendly, non-toxic and skin-friendly hand sanitiser and because this magician is the sweetest person ever and cares much more about people’s lives than making a profit during the pandemic, he shares the recipe online for free & magicians all around the world recreate the hand sanitiser for their local neighbourhoods. he’s since been featured in a couple of “Top 10 People You Should Follow” lists in business magazines and there’s an online petition with over 200k signatures calling for his nobel prize nomination lol. asra insists he doesn’t care about fame but when the apprentice laughs about these recognitions, they always notice asra’s eyes crinkling

asra would also become a lot more active on his youtube channel. that’s right, he’s always had a youtube channel, he’s just had a million hiatuses because of all his adventures. he has around 20,000 subscribers (and a similar amount on instagram...his feed is colourful and full of pictures depicting his travels, the shop, and above all, the apprentice). since he’s decided to stay at the shop with the apprentice – who is actually a little more vulnerable than others to viruses, because of their “reborn” form – he has the time to post weekly videos again. i think asra wouldn’t want to show his face in any of the videos, and not on his instagram either... and it’s got nothing to do with his self-esteem – he just wants the focus to be on what he’s doing rather than how he looks. the videos vary from very domestic vlogs with titles like “what two magicians do in a day” to packed af guides like “🐍 SPELLS TO REFINE AT HOME 🐍” & “crystals that can calm you during these times” and his wildly popular “carving crystals i mined: in real time” ⏳ the apprentice is a permanent fixture in all of them <3 viewers always assume they’re together and whether they are or not...that’s for you to think about ;)

asra is big on healing crystals and gemstones. like really, really big on them. he always makes sure to inform his customers and audiences that they are alternatives and not substitutes, and that sicknesses need real medicine & they can’t just wear a crystal in place of a mask (bc that’s happened before and he felt so guilty for carving and selling the crystal in question) what’s strange is, even though he usually sources his crystals from other countries during his travels, there seem to more than ever all around the shop and the apartment upstairs..

when the apprentice asks about it, it turns out that asra goes mining alone in nopal! he doesn’t really like to mine the actual desert as he’s only ever dug up gold and silver there. one time, he accidentally stumbled upon a cave at the edge of nopal and – ever the curious wandering magician – he ventured deep within it and found amazing crystals and gemstones everywhere 💎 he never mentioned it to the apprentice because he always thought it was too dangerous for them to go, until they remind him it’s dangerous for him too. from that day onwards they go looking for crystals every weekend together :’)

if asra was living alone, he would be fine with just wearing a mask to go outside. but since he lives with the apprentice – and especially after what happened during the red plague – he’s not risking ANYTHING. he wears aviator goggles and eco-vinyl gloves when he’s in the market, just to be extra safe, though when he’s out foraging he takes off his mask because there’s usually no one else there & it’s way too humid. the apprentice likes to make fun of how steampunk he looks & the way the big goggles make his hair extra poofy 🤍

Julian

julian is on the frontlines of the vesuvian pandemic response. with his experience as a doctor – specifically, a frontline doctor during the red plague who discovered the cure (!!!) – he is revered by new doctors and nurses, most of whom are volunteers. when the pandemic first begins, there aren’t formal hospitals or medical schools set up in vesuvia, so he has to make do by reopening his clinic in the centre city, as an alternative to valdemar’s one in the palace – which, quite frankly is the stuff of nightmares for most of the population

as you know, julian is universally loved by the vesuvian people... so the waiting list of the hospital branch he works at is ALWAYS full. patients always report how gentle and attentive he is and how comforted they feel in his presence. even though he has to wear a hazmat suit and the plague doctor beak mask, he is known for visiting the most severely affect Covid-19 patients and holding their hands in their last moments.

the apprentice brings different flowers to put inside his beak mask every day (this is a headcanon that i’m pretty sure originated from the writer telanaris on AO3!!) to give julian some small comfort amongst all the death and suffering he’s witness to every day. they go out to the tarske forest or even to nopal with asra, or sometimes alone. because julian mentioned wolfsbane was his favourite flower once, the apprentice picked some without knowing that they’re poisonous. long story short, they blacked out and woke up in his clinic with an extremely worried julian nearly in tears launching into a self-blame monologue, about to black out himself from staying by their side the whole night

i also think julian would be featured in the news a lot and sometimes pretty randomly. he gives official weekly Covid-19 updates on the main vesuvian tv news channel – though the apprentice stands in for him after the first two weeks (he tries very hard to refuse their help because he doesn’t want to burden them, even though they assure him they actually want to relieve him of at least one of his burdens since he’s a full-time pandemic doctor – and because he almost fainted from exhaustion the second time. the apprentice kindly, but sternly asks him to take care of himself too, as he does everyone else)

he would just be on the news in general too...his random acts of kindness would go viral on social media – “Vesuvian Doctor Helps Elderly In Race for Toilet Paper.” ❤️ “Local Doctor Delivers Groceries for Struggling Families.” and his “grandmothers” in nevivon always get excited when they see him on the news and send letters to congratulate him (much to his embarrassment). julian would also go viral on twitter. one photo of him has 100k retweets: “oh my fcking god i just rounded the corner and there’s this really fucking t a l l man handing out free bottles of sanitiser. i don’t need to see him under his plague beak to know he’s hot af HELP” and the apprentice would retweet it saying “so proud of my bf” and the internet would go wild over this comment. it’s up to you to decide if they’re actually together or not hehe bc who knows the apprentice might’ve meant best friend 🤷🏻‍♀️

he sets up a youtube channel with no profile picture or description to upload a single video... “How to PROPERLY use hand sanitiser!” and all the comments are just about his looks and voice 😚 it reaches cities outside of vesuvia and because the hand sanitiser in the video is locally made (by asra!) it quickly becomes sold out by either those who don’t know how to do magic or people without access to the products being replicated by other magicians... because a lot of them actually marked up the price :( + even communities that are afraid of magic buy it because asra’s detailed method and julian’s instructive marketing combined are that effective. a power couple... in another life, perhaps 💫

julian would then be invited to do a city-sponsored video guide on how to wash your hands (the idea is helmed by nadia, of course, who recognises the usefulness of his newfound fame). not only would he be extremely exhausted from full-day shifts, he’d also be overthinking to the point of hyperventilation before filming starts – but he surprises the apprentice with how professional and clear he is in the videos. a true thespian at heart, instead of happy birthday, he improvises on set and sings an old tune from nevivon instead as he washes his hands for 20 seconds 🌊 lemme just say...his hands also go viral lol. also, julian could be a tik tok star if he wanted to. he’s certainly got the moves for it, and can easily achieve the e-boy vibe – plus, he’s gone viral on there several times already!

even though julian doesn’t seem to care when he’s in danger, he’s very meticulous when it comes to the apprentice’s safety. living through his second pandemic and working with patients first hand means that he is very aware of how severe the situation is. every morning he prepares a 99:1 water:bleach ratio spray to spray his shoes when he comes home. he refuses to even touch the apprentice (for fear of passing on anything from the clinic) before he’s taken off his mask, thrown it away safely – then showering and washing his hair thoroughly.

having grown up in nevivon, i like to think that julian is really environmentally conscious, especially with regards to the sea. he used to go diving in the sea to retrieve trash, and as a young man he made a habit of going to the docks every weekend to remove plastic containers and wires from around the necks of salt seals 🌫. so, no matter how tired he is, when he comes home to the apprentice, julian never forgets to snip the ear loops of his surgical masks in half, as he knows sea creatures can get caught up in them. i’m sure he makes a second youtube video at some point to talk about this issue. tldr julian is an environmental activist <3

Valerius

so it’s been a long while since valerius was freed from you-know-who. his personality has definitely changed a lot since then... he’s back to his old and real self (which we never really saw in the game) 🌄 he works side by side with nadia now, not only as colleagues but also genuine friends, and he oversees the health department. he sets up dozens of hospitals and more general clinics in and out of vesuvia, consulting experienced doctors in vesuvia like julian as well as officials from neighbouring countries and states. as a side note, valerius is actually a very humble person and the most attentive listener you will ever meet. people from neighbouring governments & royal households admire him immensely as a result <3

out of everyone, i think valerius would be the most careful during the pandemic. during the red plague he witnessed lucio’s illness up close and it’s had a profound impact on him. he worries about the apprentice, a lot. more than anyone who knows him expects him to. he’s always the first to notice and remind them if their mask is falling down their nose, or if they’re about to rub their eyes with unwashed hands. you will never catch him forgetting to wear a mask or touching his face at all when he’s outside. he takes the time to use disinfectant wipes to clean everything he brings back home one by one, and though valerius is adamant it’s not the apprentice’s responsibility (because most of the things are usually files from the palace he has to go through before the next morning or things he brings back from the market) the apprentice always insists they want to help out :’) so it becomes a nice daily evening ritual, sitting together on the floor after returning from the palace, cleaning their things in silence together 💜

speaking of things he buys, valerius loves the marketplace. he discovers it one day by accident when looking for a bouquet of 🌹 red roses 🌹 to bring back for the apprentice, who was particularly upset that day after helping valerius out at the new hospitals and not being able to help any of the patients as much as they would have liked with their magic. when valerius stumbles across the marketplace, he is absolutely amazed by the colours and smells that surround him. he spends a lot of his free time and lunch hours looking through jewellery stalls – especially hairpins and hair sticks.

anyone looking at him would be able to see how much care valerius puts into maintaining his hair. because he washes his hair every day (to avoid bringing any Covid-19 related germs into bed), and because being free from you-know-who has made him a lot more open to magic... not to mention because he actually lives with the apprentice now 💜 i think valerius would also consult asra about magical hair masks and conditioners, to keep his very long and thick hair healthy and soft, despite washing it every day.

he knows from accidentally overhearing asra a long time ago that the apprentice loves pumpkin bread, so he asks around for hours until he finally finds the baker’s stall 🍞 it takes hours because valerius is really bad with directions and gets lost a few times... it doesn’t help that he’s distracted by all the different foods and jewellery that he’s never seen before (he picks up a nice ring for the apprentice, and yes he’s so attentive and familiar with jewellery that he guesses their ring band size correctly). from that day onwards, once or twice a week, he wakes up a little earlier than usual to sneak out of his estate and buy the bread, so that the apprentice can enjoy it – freshly made, warm, and their favourite – for breakfast 🥣

yes, he has an estate (this mr. darcy-like headcanon is from jane_ways on AO3!!) and he treats his household employees very well, offering paid leave for all of them so that they can stay with their own families. in their absence, he proves to be an incredible cook, albeit a little rusty because he hasn’t cooked anything substantial since being under you-know-who’s influence and because he’s been too busy at the palace to eat anything that isn’t catered.

due to social distancing, the apprentice and him eat in a lot more – valerius is very ambitious and soon moves past making homemade dishes... he cooks blown out, elaborate dinners and prepares creative and (visually) beautiful packed lunches to bring to work 🍴 whenever the apprentice has to work late he brings them dinners inspired by the colours of the shop that day – he is hesitant to admit it, at first, but he’s always admired the crystals there, and he is often inspired by them in his food presentations. asra is ever perceptive and gifts him a few (polished amethyst because he used to be an insomniac, black tourmaline and selenite to keep you-know-who at bay 💎) soon after the apprentice frees him from the curse

i really see valerius as someone who against all expectations is really into hands-on work like welding and carving – things that can get messy. he’s slowly trying to get rid of it, but since he first started working at the palace he’s maintained a very prim and posh appearance. he really loves to weld jewellery like rings and earrings. before the pandemic began, he took a few classes in the marketplace – classes which are on hiatus now, of course. he's set up a little studio in his estate and wears a blacksmith’s apron and goggles and everything. it’s honestly quite the sight. whenever the apprentice is working longer hours at the shop making potions with asra, he goes into the studio to continue his projects. some of the ones he’s proudest of are: the pure-silver wine rack, the gold headbands and rings he makes for himself – and then for the apprentice too when they keep “borrowing” his – and his favourite of all is his first ever project: the cast iron skillet that took him over a week to weld. he hand engraved the apprentice and his initials onto its handle <3 you don't need to read any of this as a romantic gesture, because friends can definitely do the same!

i like to think that prakra managed the pandemic especially well, and that valerius sits down to have zoom calls with queen nasrin to discuss ways the two places can collaborate and help each other 👑 she becomes his mentor of sorts, as he’s still relatively young and inexperienced when it comes to governing a city-state like vesuvia. when nasrin visited nadia before at the palace, she was not a fan of valerius at all and was just as wary of him as nadia was. however she becomes very fond of him as a result of their collaboration, and even starts to see him as a son ❕ other than the apprentice, nasrin would be the second person valerius talks the most freely with. initially he is very reluctant to share anything about his life, let alone his past before landing the consul job – but he eventually opens up and nasrin plays a role in helping him move past his failures (his eyes are opened after the apprentice frees him, and he feels immense shame from how he didn’t lead vesuvia very successfully in nadia’s absence)

133 notes · View notes

twoidiotwriters1 · 3 years

Text

Déjà Vu (Or are we losing our minds?) XIV -Modern!Shirbert

A/N: I haven’t written the epilogue yet, so it might not come out next week, I do hope I get the time to do it though, hang in there! -Danny

Words: 1,178

Series’ Masterlist

Previous Chapter // Epilogue

'I hope that if alternate universes exist, it will still be you and me in the end. I hope that there will always be an us.

In every world, in every story' — Tina Tran

New Year's passed without any strange occurrences as well, Anne had made up her mind and decided that those dreams had been the result of a very shitty week in which she'd had to deal with her ex's engagement, but now she was fine!

If fine meant being unable to not daydream about the handsome stranger with the pretty eyes.

Either way, her trip back to Toronto had gone well, next day they would attend the Orchard's party (Diana had told her she'd contacted Gilbert and he'd reserved a whole table for them) and she couldn't wait to get rid of this false illusion, she decided that the only way she'd be able to get over this man would be by meeting him. Usually, that's all it takes to stop liking a man.

"Anne?" Diana peered through the door. "It's almost three in the morning, you should go to bed..."

"I'm sorry Di, did I wake you?"

"Yeah, what are you doing anyway? School hasn't started, you can't be doing homework?"

"Oh, no," Anne smiled. "I started a new project. It's... It's a romance."

"Oh?" Diana's brow raised. "Are we back to being hopeless romantics, then?"

"I don't know," She looked back at her laptop. "I haven't decided yet. Which is perfect for the book, you know? I think I can give an interesting perspective, don't you think? More objective?"

"What's the main plot?"

"I don't know yet," Anne laughed. "It's about this boy, he's met a girl once in his life and only talked to her for like, five seconds, but it's enough for him to fall in love completely. After that, he starts to compare every woman to the stranger even though all is mere speculation— I haven't decided whether if it should have a happy ending or a realistic one."

"Happy endings can be realistic too, you know?"

"Well, you know what I mean," She shrugged. "It's just a concept, and it could suck— I could end up abandoning the story if it doesn't feel right, but it's the first time I feel inspired enough to do something longer than three pages and I thought I should try it."

"I think you should," Diana walked up to her and kissed the top of her head. "I know it's hard to go to bed when you're inspired and all, but do try to sleep? I don't want you leaving the party early..."

Anne's stomach twisted in anticipation, she doesn't know if she'll want to stay after meeting Gilbert, but she can't say that to her friend.

"Of course," She smiles. "Don't worry."

———————————————

It wasn't a fact, but the possibility of Anne coming to the party caused Gilbert to pour all his energy into making sure everything was perfect.

Gilbert had always been a bit of a control freak, but this was the last opportunity to actually meet the real Anne, and he didn't want to waste it.

He looked at the decorations around him feeling satisfied, Gilbert checked the time and realized it was almost 3 am, he swore under his breath and quickly made his way out, making sure everything was in place and safely secured.

He didn't know why, but something about the next day felt final, it was a now or never kind of situation.

***

The train's incessant rumbling woke him up. He realized he'd fallen asleep while reading the newspaper, Gilbert carefully folded it and fixed his posture as well as his clothes. He realized he was wearing some kind of old-fashioned suit, which he didn't consider strange at all, it felt right, actually, he felt more at home than ever.

Someone sat down in front of him, a dark-haired girl with intense brown eyes and flushed cheeks, he knew who it was immediately.

"Diana," He smiled. "To what do I owe the ple—"

"What is wrong with you?" She interrupted. "First you make us all believe you're marrying an older lady, then you show up at the last minute and announce to my father that you're no longer marrying and you're moving to Toronto instead?"

"I— What?" Gilbert blinked. "Marrying?"

"Yes!" Diana leaned forward. "You told my father you were planning to propose to Winnifred Rose and that you were moving out to Paris, then you change your plans completely! You have no idea how's Anne suffered because of you!"

The name immediately stirred something in him, Gilbert smiled.

"This is a dream, isn't it?" He asked. "She's here—"

"So you simply never bothered to speak to Anne about any of this?" She demanded, clearly not listening to him.

Gilbert's mind came up with a reply on its own, much like any regular dream, it was as if he knew there was a script he had to follow for the story to continue its course.

"Had I had the opportunity to I would have, in fact, I went over—"

"You had every opportunity, for years! Admit it— You've been smitten with Anne ever since she first came to Avonlea and smashed that slate over your head!"

The sentence brought back clear memories: Anne looking extremely pissed, holding a small slate and then hitting him with it. Him being so drunk he'd insulted her without really meaning to.

'Oh... crap', He thought.

"I need to talk to her," Gilbert stood up abruptly.

Part of him knew this wasn't real and talking to Anne here would do nothing to fix the reality that he'd screwed up the first impression already. But his dream-self had no sense of logic, so he ran to the nearest exit just when the train was reaching the station.

He rushed past the crowd and quickly found himself in the middle of a town with no idea of where he was going. The streets looked familiar, but where was Anne?

He ran across alleys, wide streets and unknown houses until he saw a big, greenish building ahead, and his heart jolted in excitement, he knew this was it, he sped forward, he was reaching the entrance—

***

The loud beeping of his alarm woke him up abruptly. Gilbert's eyes opened at once and he looked for the device frantically.

"No no no," He said anxiously. "I was so close!"

But it was all a dream, even if he'd found Anne, it wouldn't change the fact that he'd already ruined his chances with her since the start, and maybe his dreams were all a constant reminder of how it didn't matter how many times he could rewrite the story in his dreams, what's done it's done.

Gilbert fell back on the mattress with a groan. He'd been planning this party for weeks and now it all felt useless, now all he could do was wait for the party and hope Anne didn't remember him.

———————————————

Anne stood gracefully in the corner of the room, looking around at the attendants of that evening's ball without much interest, she was looking for those familiar dark-brown curls, but there was no sign of them yet.

"Oh, Anne!" Phil approached her. "Isn't this dance beautiful? Although it saddens me that the only reason why we get to enjoy it it's because we've finished our studies for good! I shall miss the classroom very much, won't you miss me?"

"Yes, I believe my heart will feel like a part of it has been stolen as soon as you part from my side," Anne replied, only the tiniest hint of teasing in her voice.

"Oh, you're lying!" Phil sniffed dramatically. "I know I won't be you most missed old chum, that's a place Gilbert Blythe has occupied ever since you rejected his proposal."

"Phil!" Anne exclaimed. "Don't speak like that! It wouldn't be proper of me to miss a man while courting another and you know it!"

"Oh, but the heart is such a funny thing," Phil sighed. "And I know you love him, therefore I should deliver the news before it's too late. Gilbert is expected to be engaged very soon."

Anne felt like her heart was getting squeezed and shattered, but she managed to control her voice.

"Oh?"

"Yes," Phil continued calmly. "I thought you ought to know, even if you insist you don't love him. I tell you so you don't do anything foolish... you should tell him the truth."

"What truth?"

"That you and Roy won't get married, of course!"

"Dear me, Phil, where did you get that from?" Anne gasped. "He hasn't even proposed!"

"It doesn't matter, I know you regret deeply the way you treated Gilbert that dreadful day, I know you would answer differently now, wouldn't you?"

What dreadful day?

Rejected his proposal? What proposal?

A muffled voice echoed in her mind, one she knew too well already.

'You would have sex with me?'

Anne shook her head in incredulity. Well, of course she was going to reject him! That offer had been positively scandalous!

And what had she done? She had... she had...

The memory came to her fresh in a flash. She had seized the slate and slapped him with it.

"Oh my..." Anne's hand covered her lips in horror. "Well, I did what I had to, Phil, he was incredibly rude!"

"Rude? He was just asking a question!" Phil blinked in confusion. "How's that rude?"

"Because he... he..." Anne blinked several times, then her gaze gained a bit of clarity. "He called me carrots! Yes, he did!"

"Oh, Anne, that was so long ago!" Phil laughed. "Haven't you gone through enough together to know he didn't mean to offend you?"

Anne was growing anxious. She fixed her skirt even though it didn't need any fixing, and stood up.

"It's getting late, I think I'll go now."

Without waiting for a reply she left, in the blink of an eye, she found herself inside the Green Gables' kitchen, Marilla was seated in front of her, and she had a very pitiful expression.

"I understand if you don't want to visit him, Anne, but I think you should, this may be the last chance you get to speak to him."

"I... Visit him?" Anne blinked. "Last chance?"

"I don't want to scare you, dear, but his mother told me his condition is quite grave," Marilla sighed. "Gilbert might not be with us next week."

"Gilbert?" Anne's voice trembled. "He's sick?"

"I understand your shock, but please do consider going to pay him a visit, whatever he did to offend you... it's better if you let him go with a clean conscience, he was such a good man..."

Marilla was talking of him as if he were already dead! He couldn't be! Anne had seen him in the picture—

But how long had it been since that? How long since she'd stopped dreaming about him? What if this was the reason?

Anne stood up and ran upstairs, she got to her room and locked herself away so she could be miserable in peace.

It was true that he had disrespected her, and she'd defended her honour with that slate... but he was really sweet and generous... or was he?

Ugh, she was so confused! How could she know what was real and what had been her imaginings entirely?

***

"Good morning, Princess Cordelia!" Cole stormed into the room and let himself fall on top of her. Anne groaned and pushed him away. "Are you ready for tonight? I'm planning to get you so drunk you start talking about shifting realities!"

"No!" She whined.

"What?" Cole looked at her.

"I'm not ready to—" She caught herself before she could say 'meet him', "...to get drunk! I think I should take a break from parties..."

She knew that meeting him would help her get over her infatuation, and maybe even stop her dreams... but she didn't want them to stop; it was so nice to have someone treating her the way Gilbert would in her imagination... what if he was just as awful as Roy? She wasn't ready to have her heart broken again...

"Anne, but you've only gone to one party since the holidays started," Cole visibly deflated, "please don't tell me this is about your ex? Diana told me you were writing again, I thought you were making progress..."

Anne shook her head. "I'm not feeling well, Cole."

Cole stood up, Anne pulled the blankets over her head.

———————————————

When the first group of people arrived, Gilbert's anxiety skyrocketed. He was expecting to see Diana's face any moment now, and that would end up confirming whether he would be reuniting with Anne that night or not.

Thirty minutes... an hour...

"Gilbert!" The young woman and her group of friends (including Cole) made a beeline towards him. "Oh my goodness, you're so tall!"

He smiled, for a moment his thoughts focused on his old friends, and how different yet similar they all look from their younger versions. Then he realized Anne wasn't there, and his hopes and expectations both crashed.

Of course she wasn't going to come! Even if she did live here, Diana had probably told her it was a reunion for old friends only, and she didn't know him, not the real him, and if he was really honest, he didn't know her either.

———————————————

If she were to stay and miss the party, she'd end up frustrated. If she did meet him and didn't like him, she would move on faster— a bit hurt, but knowing she was making the right choice.

However, if she were to attend the party, meet him, and realize he was all she'd been expecting him to be and more... well, she could only hope for him to be single.

Anne had been pacing up and down her apartment pretending to be cleaning when in reality she was only making a bigger mess. Her phone buzzed and Diana's name appeared on the screen. She picked it up with shaky hands and unlocked it.

'We miss u :c'

Under the text, there was a selfie of Diana, over her shoulder was Cole, and he was talking animatedly with... Dear God, he was taller than expected.

She stared at Cole and some strange resentment filled her.

"That should be me," She stated, and somehow she knew she was right. It should be Anne talking to Gilbert, taking a risk for the first time in years. She'd only dated one guy, for heaven's sake! She had to let herself live!

"FINE!" Anne groaned. "I'm going!"

***

Gilbert hadn't announced he was leaving, he knew they would all ask him to stay but he couldn't, he was disappointed, all he wanted was to stay home watching shitty romcoms and crying his eyes out.

It was all his fault, Anne had nothing to do with this, he had let his mind run wild and these were the consequences he was forced to face.

Unknown to him, Anne was in her apartment frantically changing her clothes and brushing her hair. She grabbed a bag and hastily put all her stuff in it. She'd already wasted two hours, she had to leave the house NOW.

Gilbert searched his pockets for change, he was planning to buy a few beers and get slightly tipsy so he could be sad properly. He found a dollar but the wind snatched it out of his hand abruptly. The young man let out a short groan as he ran after it. A door opened across the street and a woman's voice reached him.

"C'mon!" Anne closed the door roughly, she lifted her gaze and...

Gilbert didn't breathe, he didn't move. In front of him Anne stopped as well, her arms fell to her sides and she stood there wondering if she was dreaming.

"Hi."

That was his voice! His voice!

She shook her head lightly and walked down the few steps that separated her from the sidewalk. Gilbert's feet moved on their own until he was standing right in front of her.

Anne's hand reached blindly and pinched her arm, she hissed. He looked down at her wrist and frowned.

"I-I just had to check," She laughed nervously. "I have... a very good imagination— so... I just had to be sure this... is real."

Gilbert spoke in the softest of voices.

"Anne? With an E?"

"H-How..?"

"I'm Gilbert," He continued. "I don't know if you remember but... I think... I think we've met before?"

"My god— You won't believe this, but I've been having the strangest—"

"Dreams?" He finished for her. "Me too."

She laughed again, her hands were shaking.

"There... there was a coffee shop—"

"And a cat—"

"You were dying—"

"You were a pirate!"

They looked at each other in disbelief, their smiles growing.

"I... was it real?" She questioned.

Gilbert's brow furrowed as he spoke. "Which part?"

"I don't know... everything... us?"

"Anne," He repeated, this time a bit more urgently. "I have to know... does this mean... you know who I am?"

She beamed, then stretched out her hand.

"Gilbert Blythe, I'm Anne Shirley-Cuthbert. I broke a slate on your head the first time we spoke, and I've been sorry ever since, I just didn't remember it."

He let out an incredulous laugh and held her hand eagerly.

"Anne Shirley-Cuthbert, I think we're going to be the best of friends," He gazed down at her adoringly. "We're meant to be. You've thwarted destiny long enough."

"It was you who moved out before we could meet!"

"You left the bathroom before I could apologize!"

There was a moment of silence before Anne spoke again.

"You know what this means?"

"Yeah, we have around ten years of conversations we need to catch up to," He joked.

"Ten years and a month," She realized he hadn't let go of her hand, but she wasn't going to move any time soon. "But I'd say the night's still young. I was on my way to your party..."

"Can I walk you there?" He asked expectantly.

"Lead the way."

***

"Anne! You came!" Diana froze and stared at Gilbert. "Oh, hi. Did you guys know each other?"

Anne and Gilbert exchanged a look and smiled.

"I ran into him a moment ago," She explained. "He's nice."

"Thanks," He chuckled. "Anne was telling me she's been your best friend ever since she moved to Avonlea— is it true that she's the Cuthbert's daughter?"

"Yes!" Diana beamed. "Isn't she great?"

"Is it true you got drunk on accident when you were thirteen?"

Diana laughed.

"You're already sharing stories? Hang on, I have a great one of that one time she dyed her hair green—"

"Diana, don't you dare!"

***

"You lucky bastard," Bash slapped the back of his head as Gilbert walked into the kitchen.

"Ouch! What was that for?"

"You've been whining about your dream girl for weeks and just when you tell me you gave up, this breathtaking redhead steps into the diner and wastes the whole night flirting with you!" Bash said in disbelief. "How did you do that? What the hell did you sell your soul to?"

Gilbert laughed lightheartedly.

"Honestly, Bash, I have no clue... Was she really flirting with me, though? Do you think she likes me?"

Bash rolled his eyes.

"I swear, Blythe, if you don't ask her on a date I'll kill you."

"You don't have to tell me twice," Gilbert grinned.

***

"So, Gilbert," Cole nudged her arm as soon as the boy went into the kitchen. "You know he has a crush on you, right? It's so obvious, I'd be shocked if he doesn't get in one knee by the end of the night and asks you to marry him—"

"Don't scare her, Cole!" Josie slapped his arm lightly. "But Gilbert definitely likes you. He hasn't seen any of us in years and yet he's acting as if we were the strangers!"

Anne squirmed in her place giddily.

"I like him."

"That's our girl!" Jane exclaimed, finishing her drink in one large gulp. "I swear to god, Anne, if you don't take him home I'll run you over with my car..."

"Wow, that's a bit too drastic, don't you think?" Diana said. "They just met, and Anne's just recovering from her breakup with Roy!"

"Fuck Roy, honestly," Anne replied carelessly. "Gilbert's gorgeous..."

"Thanks," a voice said behind her.

Anne winced, the table fell silent and she covered her face with both hands.

"Oh my god... please tell me this isn't happening..."

The group burst out laughing, Gilbert sat down practically glowing with joy.

"Just so you know, I was about to ask you on a date, but I understand if you need time—"

"She'd be delighted!" Cole interrupted. "Please, help us, our friend desperately needs to get laid—"

"Are you talking about Gilbert?" Moody sat down next to Ruby and placed a drink in front of her. "Because the others told him that already and—"

"Okay!" Gilbert replied loudly. "Can we please not talk about sex?"

"Oh, pity, I was about to offer you a hand..." Anne teased.

Gilbert choked on his beer.

"W-What?"

"Smooth, doctor," Josie mumbled.

"Wait, is this actually happening?" Ruby asked with excitement. "Are you two going on a date for real?"

Gilbert stared at Anne with his mouth half-open, unable to get the words out. Anne simply smiled at him and nodded.

"Yes Gil, I'd love to."

The table went wild afterwards. Cole, Diana and Josie rambled about how they should've introduced them sooner, the rest simply were in for the teasing, but no one in the place apart from Anne and Gilbert knew exactly how long both had been waiting for this moment. No one was more relieved than them.

No one was happier than Gilbert as he reached for her hand and held it in front of everyone. No one felt giddier and excited than Anne when he asked for her phone number.

Life had turned into their best dream.

Taglist.

@ninizkd @http-itsrebecca @fuckthisshitimoutyall @just-here-to-escape-from-reality @little-boats-on-a-lake @i-am-scared-and-useless-bisexual @skarlygonzalez

#twoidiots writing #anne with an e fanfic #anne with an e #anne shirley cuthbert #anne shirley x gilbert blythe #Gilbert Blythe #awae #DV fic #shirbert

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hasquetzorkukudoneanythingwrong · 3 years

Text

Foggy Fate

Recently Rex and Quetz had dealt with two annoying situations, both of which had left Quetz in a situation that Rex hated to see her in. First was a meeting with another universe's master, who decided to immediately start fighting and had managed to beat out Quetz with his servants by a bit of luck. Second was in Madrid where a trap specifically meant for Quetz had weakened her and had her captured by the enemy.

The two managed to come out fine in both situations, Rex even gaining new symbiotic powers in Madrid, but he still hated how it happened at all. He got paranoid, and wanted to prevent any similar scenario from happening again. One measure was that he requested many of the caster servants create a special charm to prevent Quetz from getting harmed by any magical traps like in Madrid.

But suddenly, the control room had detected a singularity. Nothing major, but needed to be addressed soon.

Rex: another one? We've been seeing a lot of these lately.

Da Vinci: might be a bit of a side effect of the lostbelts. Singularities happen all the time anyways but these have been different.

Sion: this one's in London, same time period as the London singularity of The Grand Order.

Rex: interesting...

Da Vinci: it's not nearly as big an issue, but we'd still like you to take a look.

Rex: I will, but I'm not taking any risks.

Under normal circumstances, these small singularities would be handled by Rex and Quetz, but after the last two incidents he felt he needed to take further measures. For one he brought in Jalter as backup.

Sion: bringing in some backup?

Rex: yeah... I won't be having Quetz harmed again...

Quetz: I understand your feelings mi amor... but still a bit embarrassing...

Rex: I realize that, but... that's reality unfortunately. Besides we know Jalter's dependable backup.

Jalter, blushing a bit: ...thanks master...

Sion: anyways, we need you all in the coffins soon.

After the 3 entered their respective coffins it was time to rayshifting.

3...2...1!

The three found themselves in the foggy streets of London. It looked like a ghost town, not a soul in sight. Not too unique for singularities but still unnerving.

Da Vinci: ...huh, that's odd. About the same time you got there, we've detected another life signature and a servant.

Quetz: ...could it be another universe's master of chaldea?

Sion: that's a very strong possibility. If they're anything like the last one... then be on your guard.

Rex: don't need to tell me twice

Jalter: do you know where they could be?

Da Vinci: yes... a few blocks away

Rex: ...great...

Meanwhile, with the other universe's master: Maya.

Maya: so you've detected more servants?

Maya was sent in to deal with the same problem, she brought along her surrogate daughter Abigail Williams.

Da Vinci: yes... though one seems a bit odd. Two are pretty standard, rider and avenger classes. But there's another that's... fluctuating? It's not far from a berserker but...

Maya: could be a pseudo-servant or something?

Sion: maybe...?

Abby: are they source of the singularity?

Da Vinci: not likely...

Sion: heads up, they're getting close

Rex: hey you!

Maya: here we go...

The two groups could see each other, Rex decided to call Maya out. When Maya saw the group she already got a decent read on the servants. She knew Jalter already but this one was... different? Closer to the one from Orleans. Quetzalcoatl was... dangerous, not malevolent but a risk. Rex was... confusing. She could tell he was a decent guy but something seemed off.

Maya: hey there!

Rex: hey...

Maya: lemme guess... are you another universe's master?

Rex: yeah... same for you?

Maya: yup! You got some interesting servants there...

Rex: thanks... what's your name?

Maya: Maya. Maya Hinagami.

Rex: Maya... lemme ask you something, you know a Faye?

Maya: yeah actually... you know her too?

Rex: we've met up a couple times.

Maya: nice! Wait! She might've told me about you too. Lemme guess your name... Rox?

Rex: Rox?! It's Rex!

Maya: oh! Sorry about that! Must've misheard her.

Jalter: hey... I'd hate to cut the discussion short... but the fog's getting thicker.

Quetz: she's right.

Da Vinci(s): you better get moving *bzzt* servant *bzzt* danger- *bzzt*

Eventually the comms cut off, the fog now much thicker and the masters were getting nervous.

Maya: Rex! You still there?

Rex: yeah!

The groups huddled close to stay safe.

Abby: Maya... what could it be?

Maya: not sure...

Quetz: don't worry girls, we'll come out of this fine.

Jalter: yeah, always turns out good eventually.

Then the group heard an unnerving scrapping sound. Like metal being dragged across the pavement.

Rex: what the hell?

Maya: must be the source of the singularity.

Abby: what could it be

But before anyone could answer suddenly the enemy strikes from behind

Jalter, blocking with her sword: fuck!

Then suddenly they disappear.

Rex: what the?

Maya: some kind of warping ability?

Quetz: this will be annoying.

The fog was thick with mana, messing with the comms and preventing Maya from getting a read on the enemy.

Suddenly another strike!

Quetz, countering with her Macana: don't think so!

Gone again

Rex: is it the fog that let's them do that?

Maya: no idea. But it's irritating regardless.

Rex: I got an idea... on my signal all of you duck.

Maya: what do you have in mind?

Rex: you'll see.

After a bit of waiting, Rex gave the signal.

Rex: now!

The rest ducked and Rex unleashed dozens of spikes from his body! He feels some impaling the enemy servant.

Rex: gotcha!

Maya: wtf was that?!

Rex: long story!

The fog clears a bit but not much and the enemy servant is seen stabbed in several places in their body. Finally getting a good look at them the group can see what their opponent looks like. They're covered almost entirely by a cloak, with a large white mask covering their face, tho it seemed to have been damaged by the spikes.

Maya: are they still alive?

Abby: they aren't fading...

Suddenly the enemy servant warps again, leaving some blood dripping on the spikes they were impaled on.

Rex: fucking hell!

Quetz: that didn't kill them?!

Jalter: I've had enough of this bitch!

Jalter in a fit of anger unleashes a large circle of flames around the group.

Maya: Jalter! What the hell!?

Jalter: they can't warp into fire that easily!

Maya: but it may kill us!

Then suddenly the enemy warps rights above the group, axe in hand ready to strike!

Rex: there you are! Maya, Gander!

Suddenly the two shoot out consecutive gander shot right at the enemy, causing them to lose focus and let go of the weapon.

Immediately in response Quetzalcoatl leaps and grabs the enemy forcing them into an aerial suplex and launching them into the flames!

???: RAAAAHHH!!!

Jalter: now I'll hande this!

Le Grondement de la Haine

She unleashes her noble phantasm killing the enemy servant.

The fog clears away, and to clear the flames Quetz uses her authority to bring about enough rain to put it out.

After everything is said and done the two masters have to talk to their respective Da Vincis and Sions.

Sion: don't know if you figured it out or not from everything but it seems the enemy was an alternative summons of Jack the Ripper.

Abby: did Jack... grow up?

Da Vinci: no... not likely. Jake the Ripper's a very unique servant when it comes to how they can be summoned.

Maya: that's what happens when you're never even seen.

Rex: so is the singularity gonna clear up soon?

Sion: actually, it looks like you two being there is causing a new but much weaker singularity. Not far off from the incidents with Faye and so on.

Rex: ah, just us being here will keep it stable until we leave.

Da Vinci: yep! So if you guys want to talk like with others then by all means!

Maya: is that cool with you?

Rex: suuure, don't see why not.

The two groups sat at a table near a Cafe that was still abandoned. Discussing their adventures and making comparisons. When Maya learned Rex had not 1 but 6 different versions of Quetzalcoatl she was shocked!

Maya: how does it keep happening?!

Rex: your guess is as good as mine.

Maya: ...how the...

Maya, remembering what Rex did: wait! Another thing! How the hell did you just shoot out spikes from your body!

Rex: oh yeah! That

Rex explained the events of the Madrid singularity and how he gained symbiotic pseudo-servant powers to save Quetzalcoatl.

Maya: that explains a lot.

Rex: yeah... they were supposed to leave with the singularity but nope! So until we understand things better I'm stuck like this. Not that I'm complaining or anything.

Maya: well I probably wouldn't complain either.

The two continued on, until an interesting topic came up. Maya didn't bring it up until the servants went off on their own for a bit.

Maya: so... Faye tells me you and Quetz are actually married.

Rex: yup! Tied the knot a while ago now.

Maya: but... are you sure that's the best idea?

Rex: why not? I love her! I've loved her for so much of this journey, and she loves me! After I resummoned her in Russia and we together again I decided then and there I should propose.

Maya: I understand that but... she's a servant. She's not going to be here when this is all over.

Rex: ...yes she will be.

Maya: ...what do you mean?

Rex: she'll still be with me, after the lostbelts and so on, we'll still be together.

Maya: but after everything's said and done the servants won't be needed and just like after Goetia will be unsummoned.

Rex: well they can't unsummon her.

Maya: yes they can? Why wouldn't they be able to?

Rex: because back in Russia I didn't use the Chaldea system to summon her, I used a traditional summoning circle.

Maya: !!! You did what!?!?

Maya: how the hell!? How is your body able to handle the strain of not only a servant but a divine spirit a that!?

Rex: well... according to my records my magical circuits are scarily good? They said it's astounding I had such good ones when my family had little prior connection to magecraft.

Maya: so... you were just blessed with amazing circuits?!

Rex: no! My predecessor... actually did some small experiments on members of the family as the generations went on... until I came about with the right circuits.

Maya: ah, so you're the result of generations of experimentation to create an heir with the right circuits and can thus summon a divine spirit without Chaldeas, no problem.

Rex: well... yeah....

Maya realized just how odd of a master candidate Rex was. When it came to the world of magecraft such experiments weren't unheard of, but rarely did they produce such results. How fortunate for him to end up in chaldea. And he needn't worry about losing his wife thanks to that.

Rex: but hey... I'm sure you can still be with Helena after you finish up with the lostbelts.

Maya: ...how can you be so sure?

Rex: I dunno... call it optimism or call it foolishness, but I think you two can still find happiness together in some way after all this. You two had to say goodbye once and then got to meet again, whose to say it won't happen again?

Maya found his optimistic view on things... amusing. Maybe he was right... in some form or another, they may be able to stay together after all is said and done.

The two groups went their separate ways eventually. Seeming to have made new friends of another universe's masters again. Time will tell if they were to meet again.

A/N: so there's the Rex/Maya crossover. Thanks to @hasabbydoneanythingwrong for volunteering Maya as tribute. Hopefully you all like it and hopefully I got Maya right.