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fanfics-of-marvel · 4 years

Note

how about boss!bucky x reader in which reader is his secretary and theyre working late at night and are the only ones in the office then bucky calls reader in his cabinet and SMUT SMUT SMUT

Hello, anon! Thanks fore the great prompt! And thank you for being my first request! :) ♥ I wish you weren’t anon, so I could properly tag you but I hope you’ll still read it!

Send me a request or choose from my Prompt List!

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Release date: 15/01/20

Pairing: Boss!Bucky Barnes x Assistant!Reader

Y/N: Once again you’re working late at night. Mr. Barnes calls you in his office. You expect to discuss your latest task but he’s a little drunk and decides to release his desire for your body.

Words count: 1.2K

A/N: I don’t like the word ‘secretary’, so I’ve replaced it ‘assistant’. Sorry, this took a bit longer to write!

Warnings: Smut, dirty talk, drunkenness, unprotected sex

Requests | Masterlist

Taglist: @all-things-marvel-related ; @steeeeverogers ; @chipilerendi ; @starkershomelife ; @itavero-pater (I’m starting to belieave this person has changed their url) ; @merlin-288 ; @nutellakirb ;

The content is 18+ and you musn’t read it if you are younger than that!

I’m not a native English speaker, so there might be spelling or grammatical mistakes.

This fic is my own work, it is not to be re-posted on this site or posted anywhere else without my knowledge and consent!

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Your eyes were weary staringat the laptop’s screen for the 12th hour today. They were slowly closing at thelatest report from the Sales Department. You felt your whole body drifting awayinto the world of dreams.

“Y/N, could you please come to my office?” You jumped startled at Mr. Barnes’ words over the speakerphone.

It was passing 9:00 p.m. andyou cursed the day in which the mistake occurred. Mr. Barnes was responsiblefor fixing it and as his assistant you were required to stay at work for aslong as he was there to help him with the task. And for a 3rd day in a row youhad to stay way passing your working hours. The sleep deprivation was killingyou more than the exceeded work and all you could think of in the past 1 hourwere your comfortable bed and pillow.

You got up and walked towardsMr. Barnes’ office. Your feet were killing you after the extended wearing ofhigh heels in the past 3 days. If you weren’t on such a respected position youwould’ve come to work in flat shoes indeed. Besides your bed you started dreamingof sneakers, too.

The door was opened, so youjust walked in.

“You called, Mr. Barnes.” Yousaid with a most faked enthusiasm and energy.

Mr. Barnes was sitting in hischair staring angrily at the screen. The lights in his office were dimmed, soonly his laptop was irradiating his face which was nonetheless frowned. Hisblue eyes were rapidly moving from one side of the screen to the other inapparent search for something. His tie was no longer present around his neckand the highest two buttons of his shirt were unbuttoned. His jacket was thrownon the little office couch and his hair was the messiest you’ve ever seen it. Youcouldn’t help noticing the whiskey glass on his desk. You sighed – things wereprobably worse than you thought.

You cleared your throat afterthe pause during which Mr. Barnes didn’t react to your presence.

He finally lifted his head upand you noticed the dark circles beneath his eyes. He probably had even lesssleep than you.

“Y/N, thank you for coming.”Mr. Barnes said with a husky voice.

He then rubbed his eyes andplaced his elbows on the desk still holding his face. A loud sigh came out ofhim deafened by his palms.

“This is worse than wethought.” He said after finally revealing his face.

You took a deep breath whileclosing your eyes. Your poor cat must be starving by now. Toto would haveanother really late dinner.

“I was just looking over the reportfrom Sandra’s team. It seems to be okay.” You said as if it made anydifference.

Mr. Barnes looked at you. Youwere wearing a fit shirt with a small cleavage and a bit shorter than allowedskirt nicely shaped over your feminine curves. The outfit was enhanced by thehigh heels you were wearing. And this apparently drew his attention for hiseyes were looking you up and down as if he saw you for the first time.

You felt a littleuncomfortable and looked away trying to think of something to talk about. Mr.Barnes was undeniably a most handsome man with astute blue eyes but he was alsoyour boss, so you always chased away any dirtier thoughts about him. Besides,he was an alleged womanizer and you weren’t interested in such men.

He slowly got up and walkedtowards you waggling. His eyes were fixed on you even though his vision seemedto be blurred by the liquor. You tried to face him but the lust in his eyesmade you look away.

“Y/N…” Mr. Barnes started witha soft tone. “You’ve been such a good assistant in the past 1 year. Amazing!Irreplaceable!” He continued with genuine excitement.

You smiled with a little blushover your cheeks. He had never spoken in such a manner beforehand. You assumedit was the alcohol intake and the exceeded work but you were neverthelessflattered to hear those words coming out of Mr. Barnes’ lips. Even though hewas a little drunk.

“… and delicious.” Unexpectedly,he said looking down at your cleavage.

You took a sharp breath. Butbefore you managed to react in any way you felt his strong manly arms tightly wrappedaround your waist pulling you closer to him while his lips got stuck ontoyours. His whiskey breath hit you like a brick as you felt a little dizzy. Yourknees bended and if it wasn’t for Mr. Barnes holding you, you would’ve fallenon the ground.

His tongue invaded your mouthfeeling like at home. Your back hit the wall as Mr. Barnes’ body pressed yourssecuring that you wouldn’t be able to escape. A quiet moan left your lips only heardby the silence around you.

“Mr. Barnes, we shouldn’t…”You tried to protest. “You’re my boss. And you’re drunk.” You knew damn wellwhile he suddenly showed any interest in you.

He was probably quite intoxicatedand horny for some reason. And you were just the nearest delicious bite.

“Shut up and enjoy themoment.” Mr. Barnes replied lifting you in the air.

With your legs around him hecarried you to the desk. With one swing he pushed all objects on the ground. Youfelt the firm surface of the furniture beneath you as his hands literallyripped your shirt’s buttons to unveil your breasts. They were going up and downat the pace of your heavy breathing. He shoved his face at your boobs and youcould feel his playful tongue all over your naked skin.

“Oh, Mr. Barnes…” Another softmoan came out of you.

With one quick movement your underwearwas off. You sensed him unzipping his pants while his lips were on your neckagain. A loud sigh exited your lips at the feeling of his hard cock enteringyour pussy.

Hard, fast and consistent thrusts,your nails tearing the skin on his neck, your sighs disturbing the silence ofthe office.

“Oh, Y/N, I’ve longed for youfor so long.” Abruptly, Mr. Barnes said.

You took a sharp breath.

“And I’ve always wanted to rawyou on my desk.” He continued while fucking you hard. “To finish inside of yourlittle pink pussy. Let me do it, let me freaking do it!”

“Mr. Barnes…” You started inbetween your moans. “I’ve always wanted you… and your dick.”

“Have him. Have him whole!” Hereplied back with even harder and deeper thrusts. “Do you like that, doll?”

“Oh, yes!” You screamed at thetop of your lungs. “Yes, just like that! Don’t stop!”

Thrusting and fingering. Heavybreathing and moaning. Kissing and biting. Grabbing and scratching. Licking andsmooching. An explosion of ecstasy for both of you. Your orgasms were long andburning. Burning from desire for one another.

Mr. Barnes took his dick outof your pussy after filling it with his warm cum and put it back inside hispants. He wobbled to his chair and sat down exhausted from his sexualexertions. Sweat was flowing down his face decorated with a smug smile. He wassatisfied. Not just sexually but psychologically as well finally having youbetween the legs.

“I need you here at 8:00 tomorrowmorning.” Mr. Barnes finally said.

You looked at him while stilllying on the desk drenched in your own sweat. Your pussy was dripping out hiscum. “Why?” Your working hours started at 9:00 a.m.

Mr. Barnes smiled smugly. “So Ican fuck you again.”

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Thank you for reading! If you liked it please react - reply/like/reblog! Your support is appreciated!

This fic is my own work, it is not to be re-posted on this site or posted anywhere else without my knowledge and consent!

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devilrising · 4 years

Text

Fallen Draco, Pt. 7

This story follows a prompt by @mymindsmadness

Summary: AU where Draco is a fallen angel, and the way he gets his wings back is by guiding Harry in defeating Voldemort, but it all goes wrong when Draco starts falling in love with Harry.

Word Count (Part 7): 3,634

Word Count (Total): 21,794

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Mentions of abuse/torture (non-graphic), this part also includes semi-graphic discussion of past torture.

***

12th April, 1998 (continued)

The walk to wherever it is we are going is draining. Having not left the house in a while, I blink a couple of times at the street in front of me. Somehow, I forgot where we are. I forgot that I am staying with Harry Potter, in a dingy street in muggle London. I worry about my appearance. But not in the way I would’ve used to. It’s not the vain, arrogant concern I had earlier this year, but rather being terrified of standing out. If someone caught a glimpse of my white-blond hair, or the distasteful and regretful tattoo inked across my arm, I would be in trouble. But as we pass an abandoned house with the windows still in tact, I glimpse my reflection. Somehow, I had managed to forget that I am covered head to toe in Glamours. Forgot that my platinum hair is now strawberry blonde, and that my tattoo is invisible underneath red skin.

“Where are we going?” Not where are you taking me? Like it would’ve been a week ago. Before I realised he thought of us as equal. As my deserving to be an equal. I shudder and hope it’s not noticeable.

“A bookstore.”

“A bookstore?” I turn my gaze to the man—no longer a boy, despite his young age—and raise an eyebrow. “That seems kind of random.”

“It’s a special bookstore,” he shrugs. I hold my laugh in, choosing to hide from his gorgeously green eyes. He hasn’t wrapped himself in Glamours like I have. Instead of the cropped sandy-brown I’ve become used to seeing in public, his black hair is hanging loose around his ears. It looks good on him. Oh Merlin.

“What’s so special about it?”

He turns to me, his hand slipping from mine and grabbing my shoulder to make me face him. All for the people who may or may not be watching. Keeping up appearances. “It has books you won’t, you can’t, find anywhere. If you catch what I’m saying.”

I think I understand. Well, it could be one of two things… “Please tell me it’s the former,” I murmur.

“What?”

“Nothing.” I shake my head. Thinking out loud now too? What is happening to me? Aside from the obvious bone-wing thing.

It starts to rain softly as we walk, but eventually Potter drags me into a little shop in a quaint street. It’s a lot bigger inside than I would’ve thought, and I think of Undetectable Extension charms. The walls are coloured a soft off-white, and the carpet underfoot is a light grey. The whole shop is warm and cozy, welcome despite being the middle of spring. Rows and rows of bookshelves fill the room. There are paper-bound books, leather-bound, and hardcovers. Books that cover every topic imaginable. Some are clearly muggle, with science books explaining the world as well as their range of history. And then there’s books called ‘fantasy’ which seem to be mocking the Wizarding World and twisting it. But muggles don’t know about our world, so maybe they made these all up?

“Draidan?”

I’m pulled from my thoughts by a hand on my shoulder. Shaking my head, I look up and see Potter and a woman with light brown hair staring at me. “Sorry. May you repeat that?”

Potter fights a laugh and opens his mouth to speak again. “Draidan, this is Madame Cynthia Owens. She is the owner of Bottomless Books.”

I offer the woman my hand, and she shakes it gladly. “Mr?”

“Malloi. Draidan Malloi.”

“Well, Mr. Malloi, what would you like me to do for you?”

I glance at Potter for a moment. He looks surprised by my quick thinking. Malloi is so similar to Malfoy, I figured it’d be easy to remember. It also helps that I used it as an alias whenever I left the Manor, but he doesn’t need to know that.

“I was hoping you had some books on-”

“Salazar Slytherin,” Potter cuts in. I shoot him a glare. That wasn’t at all what I thought we were doing here.

“Oh, well if you would come right this way.” Madame Warren’s behaviour totally shifted. She stood up taller and lead us to the very back of the shop and behind a curtain. “Now boys. This is just like Platform 9 ¾, so run through if you must.”

I’m very confused, but all the same I walk behind the wall. On the other side is another bookshop. It is massive, filled with more books than the Hogwarts Library. They are all neatly arranged and organised, listed alphabetically and in topic.

“We have a very wide range of books from the Wizarding World, what are you after?”

Madame Warren comes back into view behind me, and I stop in my tracks. Her appearance has totally changed. In the first store she looked to be in her late fifties, but here she is clearly in her thirties. Her hair has grown longer and thicker, a sheet across her back. Her clothes have shifted into modern Wizarding attire and her skin has cleared. She catches me looking and nods, a small smile on her face.

“The muggles trust older women the most, so I disguise myself for the front shop. It’s really just a façade, the entire store. My main business is back here, with people like you.”

“So the front bookstore is a muggle one?”

“Correct,” Potter agrees beside me. When did he get so close? “It is designed to lure people in, and if you say something clearly Wizarding you are taken back here.”

“Why did you choose Salazar of all things?”

He has the sense to look a little sheepish.

“A week ago after we bought your potions, I sent Cynthia a letter. We agreed that Salazar Slytherin would be our password so she’d know it was us.”

“Yes, it saves me having to question customers about who they are.” Madame Warren smiles. “So, back to business,” she quirks an eyebrow, and I remember her asking what we were after.

“Of course. We were hoping you might have some books on fallen angels.”

“Ooh. I’ll have to ask you some questions then.”

“Peter is really the one to ask,” I say, quickly drawing her attention away from myself and towards the man next to me.

“Draidan’s right, but he will have to answer some I can’t.” His stern gaze turns to me before looking back at Madame Warren. “It’s for his friend,” he rushes to explain.

“Of course,” she readily accepts the lie. “What specifically were you after?”

I watch as they both turn away and walk along one of the rows near us. There is a black sign reading ‘Fantastical Creatures’ in white letters above the place they stop. Deciding that I don’t want to watch them contemplate books any more than I have to, I turn around and scan through the books. The section I’m in is labelled ‘Dark Proceedings’. I’m instantly reminded of my father and the reason why I’m here in the first place. A shiver races up my spine and I hurriedly move down the shelf. The new section is ‘Solving Inquiries’ and I sigh to myself in exasperation before reading through the titles. I’m so predictable. The only books I ever read are Auror novels, wizards trying to crack murder cases. It helps make me feel more in control, reading about people taking down men like the ones in the Manor.

One of them stands out to me. It is a book bound in a beautifully deep red, with black letters spelling out ‘Coloured Veins’. Well, that explains the colouring. I flip it over and read through the blurb. It’s about a world not unlike my own, but one of the witches can see people’s emotions by the colour of their veins. She goes her whole life thinking everyone can see them, only to bring it up and be shot down by others around her. Both figuratively and literally. It seems really interesting, so I charm it to float behind me as I continue searching.

***

“You were talking to Madame Warren for a while,” I point out to Potter as we arrive back at his house.

“Yeah, the circumstances are apparently really unusual, so it took a while to find something relevant.”

“Well. What did you find?”

He shakes his head exasperatedly. “There is a book dedicated to fallen angels in recovering. Or rising angels, as you know I call them.” I don’t bite back my chuckle, and he smiles at me for a second, making my chest ache. Why though? “Anyway, it details a few things we can do to ease the process and just other information.”

“Great, okay.” I sound a bit flustered to my own ears, and pray Potter doesn’t notice. If he does, he doesn’t say anything.

“I think I’ll read it first, and then tell you the relevant parts for you to read first. Of course, you can read all of it if you’d like.”

That said, he turns away and walks up the stairs and into the drawing room. I follow after him and take a seat in the armchair next to the sofa. Potter looks up as I sit down, gives me a smile, and opens the book. I pull out my own and flick to the first page of Coloured Veins. In front of the fire, we are very cozy. The silence drifts around us, only broken up by breathing and the occasional crackle.

Hours pass of us sitting kind of near, but also kind of far, from each other. I get through the first few chapters and become hooked, and Potter has been taking messy notes with a weird muggle thing that acts like a quill. He rushes to stand up, the book falling off his lap with a thud.

“I forgot!” He exclaims.

“You forgot what?” I ask without looking up from my novel.

“I need to talk to Hermione!” With no further explanation, we races out of the drawing room and down the stairs. In the distance, the sound of a stone door banging closed reaches my ears. What would he have forgotten about to run to the kitchen? Unless… Surely not. Why would he?

Scolding myself for thinking about it, I return to my book. There was no way he’d told Granger about my back. Either the wings, or the crest. Hopefully not the crest.

***

An hour or so later, Potter returns to the drawing room. Someone follows behind him, and I watch as Granger enters too. She spares me a glance before taking a seat next to Potter in front of the fire. She tsks before raising her wand to it. “Honestly boys. It’s far too hot.” She flicks her wand, but the fire doesn’t go out. Instead, she forms a shield around which catches some of the heat from the flames. It fades from purple to clear, and a smile crosses her face. “Much better.”

“It really didn’t matter…” Potter tries.

“Nonsense. Look at Malfoy.”

He does, and he clearly sees something because he shakes his head and grins. “He looks like Malfoy.”

“I’m right here you know.” I don’t look up from my book, but I can feel him grin and roll his eyes simultaneously.

“We’re aware.” Granger says. “I was merely pointing out that your pink skin has already become whiter.”

I scrunch my nose up before slamming my book closed and standing. “If you need me I’ll be in my bedroom.”

“Actually,” Potter interrupts. “I think you should hear this.”

“Don’t see why…” I murmur. Placing my book down onto the coffee table, I sit back down and glance up at the people in front of me for the first time.

“Because,” Potter explains with an annoyed tone, “it’s about your issue.”

“My issue? Which one?” I ask him in a deadpan voice, eyes meeting his.

“The one concerning your father and Voldemort.” Granger looks amused at our exchange, but I recoil when she says the Dark Lord’s name.

“That quite a few of my problems…” Regardless of my shock, I carry on.

“Haha,” she says, face humourless. “The one where in half a month they want to scream bloody murder in the Unspeakables’ Department.”

“Oh.” That one. I was getting rather good at ignoring it. Guess I have to go back to having nightmares about somehow ending up there and being tortured. Fun. Oh Merlin.

“Yep.” Granger’s voice is way to cheery, and I want to strangle her.

“I was thinking, Malfoy. Could you tell her everything you know about it?”

“But I’ve already told you…?” Potter really wants me to repeat our conversation. The last time I said this I felt awful. Helpless and useless.

“I know, but I want to make sure everything is covered exactly.” His emerald eyes soften, telling me that he knows the pain, but that it’s necessary to take him down.

“Okay, fine.” I take a deep breath and prepare myself to speak.

“The Dark Lord and my father called me into one of their meetings in about, um, the beginning of March?” My hand starts shaking, so I pin carefully move my left to cover the wrist and gently squeeze it. It acts as an anchor, something else to focus on then the conversation I’m being forced into having. Potter is nodding opposite me, his eyes flickering to my wrist for just a second before travelling back up to my eyes. His face turns grim, mouth a thin line, but Granger just nods and jots down notes with her version of Potter’s muggle quill. “They plan to crash the Unspeakables’ Department, which you already knew… The plans were for the start of May, but that could’ve changed.”

“Do you know the exact date?” Granger questions, glancing up at Potter and I.

“If I knew at some point I don’t remember now. It’s definitely in the first week though.” I recall something about it being planned for April, but having to be moved. I think. Replaying that to Granger, I watch as Potter stands and stretches. His muggle shirt lifts and a sliver of stomach is revealed above his jean’s waist. I tear my eyes away, but not before he notices. Fuck. I’ve become slightly addicted to seeing things like that in this past week. Just accidental clothing movement, each time revealing a little bit more skin than is usually visible. And he’s become quite good at catching me. At least he never brings it up.

“I’m going to go fetch tea. Do you want some?” So that’s why he’s getting up. Granger hums in agreement, and I politely accept. Horror races the length of my spine at being left alone, I’m with Granger, but it’s close enough. I force myself to stamp it down.

“Is that the extent of what you know?” Granger asks.

“I think so, yeah.”

“Okay. Could you tell me about their way of life in general?”

“I could. To an extent, of course.”

“My first question will be why, then.” She draws a line across the page and scribbles down a new heading.

“While I was there I was a prisoner. Not a son, or an accomplice, or whatever you probably thought. I was kept in my bedroom all day, and the food was passed in and out in intervals. That was always the scraps of what they fed to their workers. Basically inedible by the time I got it.”

“I see. What effect did that have mentally?”

“I'm not finished with the way they treated me, but if you want to move on…?”

“Oh. I thought that would be all, given your blood and where your loyalties lie.”

I scoff. “They stopped caring about blood. Mine, at least. And my loyalties were proven elsewhere.”

“I’m sorry,” she says, a look on her face saying that we’ll talk about that last bit later.

“Don’t be.” It was maybe a little harsher than I’d intended, but I’m not taking it back. “I was tortured constantly. That was the only time I was let out of my room. It would last for hours, and nothing, nothing, was considered too bad. Legilimency, the Cruciatus Curse, breaking bones, threatening to bleed me out. I could be here all day,” I explain, the last bit bitter. Extremely so. “I was occasionally permitted leave. I usually took my broom and flew somewhere far away.”

“Why did they let you leave? What if you hadn’t come back?”

“They has trackers on me. And in me. They always knew exactly where I was, and if I wasn’t back in the time limit I’d be cruelly beaten and isolated for days.” Granger’s eyebrows drawn down. “That kept me on schedule every time but once,” I chuckle cruelly.

“If you don’t mind me asking, what did they do as punishment?”

Taking a deep breath, I nod solemnly. “I understand that it needs to be said.” She gives me an encouraging but sad smile and ducks her head to write. “I was beaten into unconscious, for a start. Then I was confined to my room, which is pretty normal, now that I look back. Anyway, they came up with some extreme wards. No one except for my father and the Dark Lord could come and go from my room. If I tried I would be electrocuted. And not gently. If that happened four times, I would’ve been instantly killed.” Granger sighs as she writes. “As an extra form of torture, physcological this time, they allowed me to write letters. Allowed me to beg for help on paper, with no way of getting it to someone.”

She takes her muggle quill off the parchment and looks at me. “But you did. You got a letter to Harry, and you are safe. I’m sorry I had to dig this up.”

I nod shakily, clutching at my wrist tighter. “Should I tell you how I got it out? It’s a weak spot into the Manor.”

“If you feel up to it.”

I make myself speak. Everything needs to be out there, in the open, if we are to take them down. “There was a vent in my bedroom’s en-suite. I used some sort of charm, one that emitted green sparks, to push it along the vents. It flew through the kitchen, to the dining room and out of the window. When it blasted through the wards,

somehow undetected, the sparks rebound back into my wand.”

Granger is gobsmacked. “That’s amazing. I’ll need you to tell me about that spell later.” She makes a scribble at the bottom of her page. “So you’re saying, that if we hypothetically shrunk someone down, and somehow got them through the wards, that there’d be a direct route into your bedroom?”

“Yep. Although, it’s quite a long route with many turns. It’d take ages for someone unfamiliar with the Manor to get there. And once there, they wouldn’t be able to do anything. That end of the Manor is essentially just bedrooms for my family. Not to mention the wards.” I shudder.

Granger’s face seems to light up. “What if we, hypothetically again, sent you in?”

“The wards would probably shred me into a million pieces. I’ve no doubt been removed.”

She hums, thinking out loud. “We’ll have to find someone else then. Someone you could help from the outside…” Her muggle quill moves across the page again.

Granger starts firing off more and more questions, this time about the Manor in general. She sketches out a rough floor-plan of the ground level, adding details about the rooms as she goes. Halfway through, Potter returns with three cups of tea. Each of them look and smell different, and he passes them out to all of us. Mine is Peppermint. My absolute favourite at Hogwarts, as my father wouldn’t allow me to drink it at the Manor. Something about it not being actual tea. I smile at Potter as he passes it to me, our hands bumping for a second too long. As I take a sip, I allow the warm liquid to soothe a path from my mouth to my stomach. Granger absentmindedly hands him the parchment for him to look over as she turns the conversation away. It becomes happier things like Quidditch. Not that even Quidditch calms me down anymore. I now associate it with flying back from Skiddaw Mountain, and the ensuing torture that was the next week.

By the time we finish our tea, and Granger has drawn up the entire Manor, it’s grown dark outside and is starting to become light again. Muffling yawns, Potter says goodbye to his friend and she rushes out via the Floo. I have no idea where she is staying, but it’s not with the Weasley’s. Something about too many casualties if anything was to go wrong. And she isn’t with her parents either, as she removed all knowledge of herself from them. I can’t imagine how difficult that would’ve been for a lot of reasons. Mainly because I’ve never had a parent, or anyone for that matter, care enough. Sure, my mother cares, but not enough to let me switch worlds and become entangled with a war. No, mine made me.

“Alright, Malfoy?”

“Hmm? Oh, yeah. Just thinking.”

Potter smiles, a gentle lift of the corners of his soft-looking mouth. “Well, goodnight then. If you need potions to sleep there should be some in the bathroom.”

“Goodnight, Potter.” How did he know I would need potions? Then again, he might need them too, after the things we spoke about.

“Oh, and Malfoy?”

“Yeah?”

“Do I have to keep calling you that?”

“Calling me what?”

“By your last name. Surely you don’t want to be associated with your father every day.”

I swallow around the sudden lump in my throat. “Call me Draco.”

***

A/N: I am beyond sorry for the long wait 😣. As I said last time, this break has been for my physical health. It has drastically improved though, and this should be back to a regular schedule 🥳. I hope you enjoyed this (belated) chapter! Xx

Masterlist — Previous Part — Next Part

@draconianhorntail @megggg12 @edgy-things @queeneyart @ohheavenlylord @h0pehauntedmyw0rld @unsolicted-chick-picks @itsclayclay @harrybpoetry @slash-slut @jianing2603 @magical-fairy-princess-stuff @give-me-the-queer @youmakeprettybeautiful @hello-i-am-moi @slytherclaw134689 @sinnysin-sin @tony-stark-prorection-squad @rebelwolf91017 @irrelevantdrarry @glo-up-goddess @birdy1032 @d-addict @pizzasandwich72 @madison-is-a-small-baby @joshoriande @sugarhoneyice-t @imaginemymemories @shipperofalltheships @uniiicornen @thewanderingnomadsworld @randominternetloser @levi7755 @localxmermaid @biyaaaaaaaaaa @just-some-bibliophile @uniquehorn167

#devilrising #fallen draco #drarry #draco malfoy #harry potter #fanfiction #fallen angel #draco x harry #harry x draco #drarry fanfic #drarry fanfiction #hermione granger

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mittensmorgul · 6 years

Note

Is there anyone delving into the meta of Jack's name?

Okay, first off, friendo, are you somehow hacking into my search history, and into my chattybubble chats with @trisscar368 or @elizabethrobertajones? WELL ARE YOU?! If so, sorry about the spoilers about the fic I’ve been writing... but anyway, YES, in fact, I have been delving into it and just sorta... letting it all simmer...

I know we went into the meanings of Jack’s name back when we first learned he was going to be called Jack... but I went diving through my Jack tag and I just can’t muddle through all that early Jack speculation right now, so I figure I’ll just start fresh here. :P

trisscar368... see this is why i prologued with "meandering off to bed" because even to me i make no sense. Also "the jack" - playing card?

mittensmorgulACK sorry, I don't know if you already went to bed... But I was thinking "the jack" like a car jack, a mindless tool that enables a human being to raise a car off the ground...

trisscar368*blink*Oh that would make sense too

mittensmorgulor maybe (depending on perspective) a child's toy that really hurts when you step on it

trisscar368Fits with the tool imagesFor some reason my brain is stuck on the jack -> the knave -> the Fool

mittensmorgulor a big jack, like a caltrop

trisscar368YeahThat tooSo many options

I’d scroll back like three days to where I was talking about this with lizbob, because we kind of expanded on this a bit, but until tumblr makes it easier to search backward through chat logs it’s just too much trouble to dig back that far :P

Needless to say, this actually set me off looking for Meaning™ in Jack’s name. Because Jack can mean a lot of things. I’m just gonna copy/paste the definitions from google here, and then have some fun with this:

jack1jaknounnoun: jack; plural noun: jacks; noun: Jack1. a device for lifting heavy objects, especially one for raising the axle of a motor vehicle off the ground so that a wheel can be changed or the underside inspected.

I guess this was why my first thought was exactly the first definition of jack. :P Because how often have we been screeching about how Jack is in fact a mirror for all of TFW? How he’s literally a vehicle for Sam, Dean, and Cas to deal with their own personal issues, inspecting the underside, so to speak, being able to see their own issues that had otherwise been buried or unrecognized. Jack’s doing some pretty heavy lifting in terms of shining lights on aspects of all three of his guardians’ Major Issues, enabling us to shine a light up under there.

One thing I remember saying to lizbob when I explained this theory is that TFW is finally getting some fresh tires. :P

2. a playing card bearing a representation of a soldier, page, or knave, normally ranking next below a queen.

And here’s trisscar’s theory. I think this definition fit him more back when he was Intern Nougat, before he started seeking out his own hunts, and definitely before he went walkabout at the end of 13.06. But we shall see. He’s still trying to figure himself out.

3. a socket with two or more pairs of terminals, designed to receive a jack plug. synonyms: socket, outlet, plug, connection; "a phone jack"

Well, he quite literally acted as a jack in this sense in 12.19, when he plugged Cas into himself like some sort of cosmic toaster oven and used Cas to roast Dagon for him.

Unfortunately for Jack, Asmodeus tried to forcibly plug into his power (jacking jack, if you will... but you probably shouldn’t)

4. a game played by tossing and catching small round pebbles or star-shaped pieces of metal or plastic; a small round pebble or star-shaped piece of metal used in the game of jacks. noun: jackstone

And this is another one I’d come up with... Jack’s sort of at the mercy of the people around him, and the people trying to “scoop him up” in order to “win the game.” The angels, Asmodeus, Lucifer, and the Winchesters (including Cas) all have different motives for “winning Jack”

But heck, just thinking of a child’s game metaphorically here, Jack has been “playing” with his power for the most part. His first conscious use of it was to “jack” a vending machine to get free candy bars. Sam tried to encourage him to use the non-delinquent school-level performance of power in moving the pencil (still disappointed nobody’s actually said “wingardium leviosa”). But when he forgets, when he’s not keeping mind of his powers and they just sort of get tossed around willy-nilly, hooboy does it hurt when someone accidentally steps on it, you know? (the tattoo artist who got thrown into a wall, the poor security guard).

It’s not one of the official definitions, but since caltrops are also known as “jackrocks,” I’m assuming a connection here. Used in ancient times to slow the movement of troops (by injuring the feet of people, but especially of horses, etc.), they evolved into what we know as “spike strips” that puncture tires during police chases. They’re a vicious weapon, and nearly foolproof. No matter how they’re thrown, they always land with a pointy-side-up. Ouch.

I kind of think that this is how Jack thinks of HIMSELF right now, that no matter how much he tries to do good, all he does is hurt people.

5. in lawn bowling, the small ball at which the players aim.

Now this isn’t something I’m familiar with at all, but yeah. Going along with what I said under point 4 above, pretty much every player on the board right now is taking aim at Jack... poor kid.

6. US informal: used as a form of address to a man whose name is not known. NORTH AMERICAN informal: a lumberjack. archaic: a steeplejack. the figure of a man striking the bell on a clock.

Hit the road, Jack. Jack of all trades. In this sense, it’s interchangeable with such generic terms such as “Buddy,” “Pal,” (pal >.>) etc. But heck, Lumberjack. Now I kinda want the kid in plaid...

7.: a small version of a national flag flown at the bow of a vessel in harbor to indicate its nationality.

Union Jack, anyone? I have no idea how this relates to Nougat.

8. NORTH AMERICAN informal dated: money.

Well, this one must be REALLY dated, because I’ve never heard it before. But Jack and his potential power are certainly being treated like some sort of cosmic currency at the moment, no?

9. a device for turning a spit.

Wow these definitions are getting more and more obscure :P

Can we stick Lucifer, Michael, and Asmodeus on this spit and have a good old fashioned rotisserie? Please? Evil Colonel Sanders deserves no less.

10. a part of the mechanism in a spinet or harpsichord that connects a key to its corresponding string and causes the string to be plucked when the key is pressed down.

well alrighty, then. *thinks about randomly pressing down on Jack and seeing if that plucks his strings* *wonders if the result would qualify as “music”*

11. a marine fish that is typically laterally compressed with a row of large spiky scales along each side. Jacks are important in many places as food or game fish.

http://mittensmorgul.tumblr.com/tagged/the-fisher-king

12. the male of some animals, especially a merlin or an ass.

I was gonna just let the picture stand on its own, but heck, I looked up some info about merlins:

Merlins are small, fierce falcons that use surprise attacks to bring down small songbirds and shorebirds. They are powerful fliers, but you can tell them from larger falcons by their rapid wingbeats and overall dark tones. Medieval falconers called them “lady hawks,” and noblewomen used them to hunt Sky Larks.

and then for a sense of completeness, i looked up asses too...

Donkeys have a notorious reputation for stubbornness, but this has been attributed to a much stronger sense of self-preservation than exhibited by horses. Likely based on a stronger prey instinct and a weaker connection with humans, it is considerably more difficult to force or frighten a donkey into doing something it perceives to be dangerous for whatever reason. Once a person has earned their confidence they can be willing and companionable partners and very dependable in work.

And... okay both of these descriptions seem apt for Jack...

13. used in names of animals that are smaller than similar kinds, e.g., jacksnipe.

Well, he is the lil nougat son. The tiny smol giant manbabby.

14. short for jackrabbit.

aka, the hare. that’s a very long article behind the link. For anyone interested. Y’all who get a kick out of Wild Speculation of the “Red string tangles and wild eyed conspiracy theory” variety.

15. US informal: short for jack shit.

Whelp I think this one speaks for itself.

jack2, jak, noun historical noun: jack; plural noun: jacks

1.another term for blackjack (sense 4).

Riverboat gambling, anyone? Lizbob?

2.a sleeveless padded tunic worn by foot soldiers.

I just googled “jack tunic” at first and... then immediately added “historical” and came up with much more apt results :P Basically, it’s a form of padded armor.

jack3verb NORTH AMERICAN informal’ verb: jack; 3rd person present: jacks; past tense: jacked; past participle: jacked; gerund or present participle: jackingtake (something) illicitly; steal. "his MO in the studio remains the same—jack other people's tracks and present them in a new context" rob (someone). "they jacked him for his car"

We’ll see how this eventually plays out.

Honestly, I’m just waiting for someone to say they’ve got “Jack on Jack.”

I don’t know if this is the sort of thing you were looking for, but I had fun researching it all anyway. So, thanks! :D

#jack nougat winchester #what's in a name? well if you're a fictional character... potentially an awful lot #silent storytelling #Anonymous

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thecruciblegavemeyou · 7 years

Text

swim au

so close yet so far (to the end)

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

ao3

Simon

I woke up in Baz’s arms for the second morning in a row (well technically he was in my arms yesterday). It was by far my favorite thing. Maybe even more than Cook Pritchard’s sour cherry scones (maybe, they’re damn good scones).

Waking up felt even better, knowing that I’d never have to see David again. The police had aided me in filing a restraining order, and he would go to trial for his domestic abuse, drug, and money issues (apparently he hadn’t paid any taxes on the shack in a long time).

Being this close to him, I was wrapped up in the scent of his cedar and bergamot soap (and candle, and shampoo, and cologne, I think). All Baz’s things smelled of cedar and bergamot, and I’d never had the courage to ask why.

His fingers were cold on my skin, lightly wrapped around my hip. I took advantage of my situation to watch him; I rarely got the chance to see Baz at his most vulnerable. I hope that will change given that we’re… something else. Not enemies; and I told him we weren’t friends, but neither of us actually said it was something more. My stomach twisted with that thought, but I was (mostly) certain he felt the same.

I don’t know if he’s ready to be open about our this with the whole school. Baz has always been a really private person, even with people he didn’t hate. Whenever I used to question Dev or Niall about Baz’s plots or whereabouts, they didn’t have a clue.

No wonder Agatha had always been attracted to him. Who doesn’t like a good mystery?

I’d spent seven years trying to map Baz out; his every move, every expression, every word.

I failed.

Ultimately, I missed the biggest secret Baz was keeping. This (he went to extensive lengths to hide his feelings, though. I think pushing me down the stairs was too far). I think I needed to miss it until now. I don’t think I was ready for something like this before now, even if Baz was. Something real. If I found out a year ago, let alone a month ago, how Baz felt, or worse; how I felt, I would’ve lost it. Fallen off the end of the Earth, my whole world upside down (it was still upside down now, but I think it’s good. It’s really good). I didn’t want to mess this thing with Baz up, not the way I messed up with Agatha (over and over again).

I messed up badly with Agatha. And this time, she messed up with me. It was quite a new (and not really pleasant) feeling. I hoped she didn’t feel like this every time I fucked over our relationship.

That doesn’t mean I don’t want to be her friend still.

A bird on the window sill interrupted my train of thought, and Baz stirred. His eyes fluttered open, meeting mine.

He furrowed his brow, “Don’t look at me like that,”

“Like what?” I smirked.

“Like… like you don’t hate me.” he squirmed.

“I don’t hate you.” (quite the opposite, really).

“Are we… what is this?” he wrinkled his nose. I didn’t even know Baz was physically capable of looking that cute. My gut wrenched (partially because he kneed me in the groin on accident, but still).

I shrugged (not the best response). The way he was looking at me was making me nervous. He wants this too, Simon.

“Aren’t you still dating Wellbelove?” he whispered.

Now I was the one squirming, “Um… no. definitely not.”

“What did you do, Snow?”

I giggled nervously. I recounted my spat with Agatha the other night and before I knew it, he was laughing. I rarely got to hear him laugh.

“Good thing that I was already gay for you that day she tracked me down.” He laughed.

“You were?”

He shook his head,“Oh Snow, you have no idea. You oblivious boy.”

I blushed.

“So no. I’m not dating Wellbelove. I think… I think I’m dating Baz Pitch.”

Baz had opened his mouth to speak, but with that he closed it again, forming a shy smile, “Yeah, yeah .”

I crawled forward to kiss him. I hung over him, and I taunted him until he gave in and reached up to kiss me. I wish I had known Baz’s weaknesses sooner. I ran a hand through his hair (which was soft and silky, unlike mine that was more chlorine than hair). He pressed his lips onto the mole under my chin, following the trail down to the top hem of my shirt. I was tempted to let him take it off, but that goddamn bird squawked again (I don’t know what the whole fuss is over birdsong, it sounds like noise to me) reminding me it’s time for breakfast. If I was late twice in a row, especially on a Saturday, she would know something was up (and she wouldn’t give up until I caved).

“I’ve got to go.”

“You’re fucking with me, really?” Baz complained, letting me up.

I (attempted to) raise an eyebrow “unless you want Penny to figure out what’s up…?’

He rolled his eyes, but let me go without another protest.

Baz was still tossing around in his blankets as I made my way towards the door, “aren’t you getting up for breakfast?”

He shook his head.

“Do you want me to bring you something?”

He shrugged (yes). I couldn’t stop the smile that spread across my face as I left.

It had snowed a little last night; a dusting like the last time. This time I remembered my jumper and a scarf. I was practically skipping across the courtyard when I ran (literally) into Agatha.

“Merlin, Simon. Is your head made of stone?” she groaned.

“Sorry, Ags. Really. I wasn’t watching where I was going.”

She nodded. After a moment of painful silence, I started towards the cafeteria again.

“I, uhh… I’ll just be going.”

Agatha grabbed my arm, spinning me back around to face her. “Simon. I really am sorry, you know. It was a childish mistake.”

“I… yeah. But that doesn’t change the fact that I don’t really think this is meant to be.”

Half of me expected her to be upset by that, but the fact that she wasn’t proved my point.

“You’re right. I’m not your golden destiny, and you’re not mine. I don’t really think there’s such a thing.” She smiled, but was hollow; blending in with the bleach white courtyard and the frigid air.

I shifted my weight. “I still care about you.”

This smile wasn’t nearly as empty. I didn’t need words to know she still cared about me too. Everything was just different now.

She left me alone in the courtyard with a ghost fo a kiss on my cheek and a squeeze of my hand.

As I made my way towards the dining hall, I knew I would be late.

I didn’t really care. I’m glad that my spat with Agatha was resolved. I didn’t have many friends to lose.

Nothing between us would ever be like it was before, but I was quite certain that was more of a positive (just like my newfound relationship with Baz).

I wonder what Agatha would think of me and Baz. Does she still have feelings for him? I was half-tempted to ask her earlier, but it wasn’t really the right moment. I wonder what Penny would think. She’d probably remind me that I’m straight (am I?). Or that I hate Baz. Or that Baz hates me.

I wish that the dining hall wasn’t so far from my dorms (they were the two farthest buildings on campus). It’s like someone designed it to torture me (or coerce me into exercising). When I opened the doors, I was hit by the smell of bacon and eggs and scones and warm maple syrup.

As I found my seat next to Penny, guilt pooled in my stomach. Pen and I never kept secrets. But this wasn’t just my secret; it was Baz’s secret too. I couldn’t really tell Penny about Baz being gay (or that I was gay for him back) without hurting him (which was the last thing I wanted to do).

The cafeteria was always emptier on weekends, because everyone chose sleeping over food. I always wondered why they didn’t just make breakfast later.

Penny pushed some food around her plate. “Agatha told me about your fight.”

“Oh. Well I - I just spoke to her or my way over. I think we’re okay now.”

She nodded. “Maybe dating will finally work for you too, know that you’ve both gotten past your issues.”

I dropped my fork, starling her and Gareth behind me. “ No, no. We’re not dating. We’re just friends. We’re both done with that. Really.”

“Oh?” penny’s facial expressions were strikingly similar to Baz’s.

I shrugged, and the rest of the meal went on in peace.

“So… if you two are really on good terms, does that mean we can have a sleepover party tonight like we did when we were younger?” Penny pleaded.

I’d forgotten about that. I used to sneak into Agatha’s room with Penny at night, and the three of us would hang out and watch movies on Agatha’s phone (her parents had the unlimited data plan).

“Has Agatha agreed to that?”

“She said she was up for it if you were.”

I smiled, “I’ll see you tonight. Same time?”

“Seven o’clock.”

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rollertoasteroflife · 7 years

Text

Hey get ready for more info abt me than you prob wanted to know

Tagged by @katyaton heyyy I was gonna sleep but you know I love oversharing so here we go!!!

Rules: Answer these 92 statements and tag 20 people. <—pah yeah we all know i’m gonna tag two people...

LAST…

Drink: water, it’s hot and I’m dying

Phone call: Err dunno hang on. apparently it was a missed call who i ddin’t know the number of and didn’t leave a message so I ignored it. Actually spoke to was my Grandma.

Text message: My friend who I’m meeting with tomorrow as I want to drag her along if I get my ear pierced.

Song you listened to: Beyonce’s Flawless. I was having a mid beyonce binge on youtube ok

Time you cried: I was cryingwith laughter earlier because of my research...i posted one of the funny things on here and then the rest were jst stories that I find hilarious. Humanity is a disaster

HAVE YOU…

Dated someone twice: I’ve been on precisely 1 date so nope

Kissed someone and regretted it: Nah

Been cheated on: Have never dated so nope

Lost someone special: Yes

Been depressed: *shoves my nearly 7 years of depression under the rug* no why do you ask??

Gotten drunk and thrown up: Yeah twice. First time I let my drunk friend get me a drink and she just poured abput 7 types of different straight liquors into a pint glass and I drank the whole thing. to be fair it tasted nice but yeah violently sick. 2nd time was after my meds were upped and I didn’t realise it would affect me so badly...I was still drunk and throwing up the next day which was unfortunately my last day of work...my boss didn’t mind though thank god. but yeah i have since learnt that i can have about three drinks and then i have to stop.

Made new friends: Yeah, for someone who is antisocial I have a surprising amount of friends

Fallen out of love: no

Laughed until you cried: All the time. I am very emotional,,,

Found out someone was talking about you: I can’t think of anything but probably? dunno i have an awful memory

Met someone who changed you: Well yeah everyone helps shape you

Found out who your friends are: Don’t really agree with this as a concept, yeah I’ve lost friends but if it wasn’t right for them then no worries.

Kissed someone from your Facebook list: Does this mean like list of facebook friends? If so yeah, I kiss my friends a lot (not on the lips just like forehead kisses etc i’m affectionate when i want to be shush) and then have also had drunk friends kiss me and just been like aight ok then

Kissed a stranger: One of said drunk friends kissing me I think was the first night I met him?? Not sure

Drank hard liquor: yep

Lost glasses/contact lenses: All the fucking time D: I lost my glasses for over a day and then found them in the glasses case which i never put them in...i am dumb

Turned someone down: 1 person

Sex on the first date: Nope i haven’t

Broken someone’s heart: I don’t think so?

Had your heart broken: Yes.

Been arrested: Do I seriously seem like I lead that interesting a life??

Cried when someone died: Yes.

Fallen for a friend: ahahah I have this fun thing where once I am very close and comfortable with a friend I can’t work out if I am romantically or sexually interested in them or not as well as caring about them as my friend??? It’s weird and I don’t know how I feel about it. Usually I just ignore it but yeah if any of those friends initiated something I’d probs go with it out of curiosity. I kind of wish it didn’t happen it’s confusing.

Kissed on the first date: no i haven’t

GENERAL

List 3 favorite colors: blue, red and purple

How many Facebook friends do you know in real life: most of them, except like a few friends of friends

Do you have any pets: A dumb cat, an overly excited dog, and 5 chickens

Do you want to change your name: I used to want to change my sirname, I went by a different one when I was younger but as it’s not legally my name we stopped using it. I was going to chage to it when i was old enough to not need parental permission but by then I have wayyyy too much paperwork in this name to be bothered to change it. But yeah my name is annoying and people get confused by it but at this point it’s just fun to mess with them :D

What time did you wake up: somewhere between 9 and 10??

What were you watching at midnight last night: this damned laptop screen

Name something you can’t wait for: when i can see my dumb cat again

When was the last time you saw your mom: we skyped a few hours ago

What is one thing you wish you could change in your life: I wish I had more control over the symptoms of my illnesses.

What are you listening to right now: my fan whilst my brain is relentlessly singing a mashup of Formation and Flawless-it’s catchy but like i wanna seep in a bit shut up brain

Have you ever talked to a person named Tom: Yeah one of my childhood friends is called tom, we catch up now and then

Something that is getting on your nerves right now: My inability to actually relax and do something fun for simple enjoyment?? I am actually incapable of it

Most visited website: This shit hole

Mole/s: no

Mark/s: I accidentally stabbed myself in my thumb so that has a lovely scar on it as it went through to the muscle. I also have two scars on my face from when I was a toddler but one people don’t really notice as it’s under my nose and the other is mistaken for a dimple as it is literally a small gauge out of my face. i think that’s it?

Childhood dream: Apparently I wanted to play violin to the sharks...I was an odd child...

Do you have a crush on someone: No

What do you like about yourself: I like to think I’m mildly amusing at least

Piercings: ONe in each ear lobe but I’m actually planning on getting another in the top of my left ear tomorrow. shall see if I actually do it hah

Blood type:I don’t actually know?? And apparently you can’t just get them to check despite the fact that I’ve had a blood test so it should be on record?? But yeha I dunno

Nickname: abby is a nick name, also abs, and hoenstly just make a sound near me and I’ll probably answer! I have a lot of very bizarre nicknames and I also respond to insults...i respond to mos t things weirdly

Relationship status: Single

Zodiac:Leo

Pronouns: She/her

Favorite TV show: pushing daisies, yuri on ice, merlin, brooklyn 99, parks and rec, god so many...i watch too much tv....

Tattoos: None but I like them. However have chickened out each time I had an opportunity. I frequently daydream about ones I woould like though.

Right or left hand: Right handed but i can actually use either hand for most things which i great wehn I’m working and one hand gets tired, my uni friends all hate me for it!

Surgery: nah

Hair dyed in different color: Have tried it but my hair doesn’t hold onto dye for more than about two weeks at most. who knows why? not me

Sport: I used to row but not anymore. I practise archery but haven’t been since christmas as I wasn’t well enough to drive there. I want to start up again as I now have a new bow

Vacation: I’m debating joining a friedn in spain for a few days near her birthday but dunno if it will plan out. but like a proper vacation pahaha what do you take me for?? an adult with money???

Pair of trainers: Only have one I actually exercise in as finding ones thta fit is hard as i have odd feet. i also have hiking boots and converses

Current and all-time best friend name: I have had best friends in the past but none have ended well so instead I simply have quite a few close friends ( like seriously I have a lot of poeple that are my friend sand I have no idea why becasue i am a disaster)

Eye color: blue

Favorite movie: errr so many....ever after, mulan, httyd, just so many i can’t think i don’t have favs ok?!

WHICH IS BETTER?

Hugs or kisses: have never really had a proper kiss so imma say hugs as I am secretly an octopus and will wrap myself around people when I want company (legit and I’m not a small person but people let me and it’s nice)

Lips or eyes: Eyes

Shorter or taller: *Both is good gif* both are excellent hugging options

Nice arms or stomach: *has just spent about 3 minutes randomly daydreaming about a variety of nice tummies and arms in detail* erm yes...

Sensitive or loud: Sensitive

Hook up or relationship: Relationship (though the thought of having a relaationship is also terrifying...)

Troublemaker or hesitant: errr fuck ok i am not good at deciding ok arghhh both is good D:

DO YOU BELIEVE IN…

Yourself: *looks at both my low self esteem issues and my tendencies to be supremely arrogant* juries out

Miracles: yes

Love at first sight: no

Santa Claus: Well i used to

Tagging *drum roll* yaaaa guessed it @showmethestarlight and @deaded123

overshare with me, my weird losers

#toasterrambles #i was going to seep early tonight whoops

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jandrada96 · 6 years

Text

What comes to mind when you hear the word Malabon? Quite honestly, aside from the famous Pancit Malabon, to me and I think to most people I know, Malabon is that city sandwiched between Navotas and Caloocan. I forget that Malabon holds a rich history… that it is a city where there is so much to see, learn and taste.

Off to tour NCR with the Department of Tourism to discover up and coming tourist spots in #metromanila- Malabon, Las Pinas and Paranaque #travelblogger #travelph #choosephilippines #itsmorefuninthephilippines

A post shared by Joel Jaws Andrada (@joeljawsandrada) on Jan 28, 2018 at 3:09pm PST

Thanks to the Department of Tourism for tagging me along to explore Malabon in this media familiarization tour as they help promote emerging tourist destinations in Metro Manila. We were joined by the Department of Tourism Secretary Wanda Teo, Malabon Mayor Antolin “Len Len” Oreta and wife Chef Melissa no less.

Because of the narrow streets, touring Malabon in a four-wheeled vehicle is impractical, almost impossible even. So we mazed through Malabon using tricycles to conveniently reach earmarked destinations. Yes, you read it right! The Malabon Tricycle Tours.

The Malabon Tricycle Tours does not only help promote local tourism but more importantly it serves as a livelihood for the local community.

The tour includes ancestral structures, old churches and Filipino Food places. They offer the following tour packages:

Package A- Heritage Tour P 250 per person Destinations: San Bartolome Parish Sy Juco Mansion Nepomuceno Ancestral House Concepcion Market and Plaza Artes de Paseo Art Gallery El Casa Katipunero Ibaviosa Ancestral House Angel Cacnio Art Gallery Rivera Ancestral House Raymundo Ancestral House

Package B- Food Trip Special P 750 per person Destinations: San Bartolome Parish Lugaw Experience Hazel’s Puto Jamico’s Restaurant Dolor’s Kakanin Concepcion Market and Plaza Nanay’s Pancit Malabon Betsy’s Cake Center

Package C- Food and Heritage Tour P 900 per person Destinations: San Bartolome Parish Sy Juco Mansion Lugaw Experience Ibaviosa Ancestral House Hazel’s Puto and Puto Pao Jamico’s Restaurant Nepomuceno Ancestral House Concepcion Market and Plaza Dolor’s Kakanin El Casa Katipunero Nanay’s Pancit Malabon Angel Cacnio Art Gallery Rivera House Raymundo Ancestral House Betsy’s Cake Center

San Bartolome Parish

We arrived in Malabon a little past nine in the morning and our first stop was the San Bartolome Church. Built in 1564, the San Bartolome Church’s unique Baroque architecture has been stunningly preserved over the years.

The San Bartolome Church was built in 1564 and declared an independent parish from Tondo on May 17, 1614

San Bartolome Parish

San Bartolome Parish Arc

San Bartolome Parish facade

The meticulously carved doors of the San Bartolome Parish welcome all devotees and visitors.

Two rows of chandeliers light up the interior of the San Bartolome Parish.

The inside walls showcase paintings of San Bartolome Church over the years.

Paintings on the inside walls depict biblical characters and events.

The San Barlolome Parish Altar.

The San Bartolome Parish dome with gold linings looks like heaven’s gates.

San Bartolome Church, Malabon #itsmorefuninthephilippines #choosephilippines #travelblogger #travelph #capitaloffun #malabontricycletour #eatsmorefuninmalabon

A post shared by Joel Jaws Andrada (@joeljawsandrada) on Jan 28, 2018 at 6:12pm PST

All drivers of the Malabon Tricycle Tour have proper identification.

Baby Syjuco's Heritage House in Malabon #eatsmorefuninmalabon #itsmorefuninthephilippines

A post shared by Joel Jaws Andrada (@joeljawsandrada) on Jan 28, 2018 at 10:20pm PST

Sy Juco Heritage House, Brgy. Tanong

I boarded Kuya (Brother) Merlin’s tricycle and then proceeded to visiting the ancestral Sy Juco House built in 1869. Over the years, this heritage house has once served as a school and then as a tobacco factory before it became a private residence of a Swiss Filipino Family. I was not able to take a lot of photos but was able to take a lot of videos here. I will upload a vlog soon so stay tuned.

From left to right: Ms. Concepcion Sy Juco showing the Secretary of the Department of Tourism Wanda Teo around the Sy Juco Ancestral House

One of the many religious artifacts displayed in the Sy Juco Ancestral House

The Department of Tourism Secretary Wanda Teo boarding a tricycle in front of the Sy Juco Ancestral House in Malabon City.

Ibaviosa House and Patis Factory, Brgy. Flores

Ibaviosa House and Patis Factory

Then, we visited the Ibaviosa House and Patis Factory. Built in the 1940’s, this heritage house endured the Filipino- Japanese War and is still standing up to now. It also served as a set location of one of the films of the comedian Ai Ai Delas Alas entitled “Ang Cute Ng Ina Mo” where Ai Ai played the role of a Filipina patis (fish sauce) manufacturer.

Ibaviosa Residence

Famous Xperience Lugaw of Malabon #eatsmorefuninmalabon

A post shared by Joel Jaws Andrada (@joeljawsandrada) on Jan 28, 2018 at 8:21pm PST

Lugaw Experience, Brgy. Flores

Adjacent to the Ibaviosa Heritage House is Lugaw Experience where we got to taste the famous Malabon lugaw (porridge). The 1984 original recipe was by Narcisa Domondon Pangan and the same recipe has been passed on from generation to generation.

Lugaw Experience in Brgy. Flores

Lugaw Experience with Chef Melissa, Secretary Wanda Teo and Mayor Len Len Oreta

Angel Cacnio’s House and Art Gallery

With our tummies full, we boarded our assigned tricycles and went to the art gallery of Mr. Angel Cacnio who is famous for his paintings and for designing the Philippine 100 and 20 peso bills. The gallery also showcased some of his sons’paintings and his wife’s art collection.

Angel Cacnio’s House and Art Gallery

Art pieces displayed in Mr. Angel Cacnio’s Art Gallery

More art pieces displayed in Mr. Angel Cacnio’s Art Gallery

Some of Mr. Angel Cacnio’s Masterpieces

We were lucky that day because Mr. Angel Cacnio was around to welcome us. In the photo below, he was vividly recalling and sharing to us the beautiful and rich history of Malabon.

Born in Malabon on June 6, 1931, Angel Cacnio is famous for designing the P 100 and P 20 bills.

He even more than willingly signed a hundred peso bill of one of our companions.

Cacnio signing a P 100 bill

This version of the 100 peso bill was designed and signed by Mr. Angel Cacnio.

Dra. Gonzales’ Heritage House, General Luna Avenue

The next stop was Dra. Gonzales’ Heritage House for lunch. Upon arrival, we were welcomed by two talented young people gracefully swaying to the music of a folk dance song.

We were served some of the best flavors of Malabon City: Pancit Malabon, Crispy Pata, and Kikiam. Aside from Mommy Dolor’s Kakanin (native cakes) for dessert, we were served Valencia Trianggulo, Malabon’s version of turon (fritters in lumpiya wrapper). Valencia Trianggulo is a Malabon delicacy and instead of the usual turon stuffed with just banana and langka, Valencia Trianggulo is stuffed bananas, langka and pinipigin in a lumpiya wrapper formed into a triangle and deep-fried.

Pancit Malabon

Crispy Pata

Fried Rice

Kikiam

Valencia Trianggulo

Dolor’s Kakanin, Escanilla Street

After lunch, the food trip just went on and on. Truly #eatsmorefuninMalabon. From Dra. Gonzales house, we walked for around five minutes to visit Dolor’s Kakanin Shop along Escanilla Street to have some more dessert! We were told that they have been using the same secret recipe since 1930. We were also shown how their famous sapin-sapin is made. Sapin-sapin is a Filipino dessert made of glutinous rice and coconut.

Sapin-sapin is a Filipino dessert made of glutinous rice and coconut.

One of my blogger friends, Maddie, even got the chance to plate one.

Maddie showing off the sapin-sapin that she helped prepare with fellow bloggers Richard, Erica and Carmela all smiles in the background.

Aside from sapin-sapin, they have other offerings that are just as good.

Immaculate Conception Parish, General Luna Avenue

The last stop was the Immaculate Conception Parish right across Dra. Gonzales’ Heritage House. It is a small but beautiful church. The ceiling was adorned with paintings of biblical characters and events.

Immaculate Conception Parish, Malabon

The tour took about four hours. Short and sweet (literally with all the kakanin and Valencia Trianggulo that I ate). At about half past one in the afternoon, we left Malabon not just with full tummies but more importantly with better appreciation of our Filipino culture which revolves around our Faith, food and families. We only got to visit a few of the destinations but it was enough to make me excited to come back and visit the ones we missed.

The next time you plan your staycation, get up and book that Malabon Tricycle Tour instead with your loved ones. You will surely be pleasantly surprised that there is so much happening in a city sandwiched between Navotas and Caloocan.

Signing out for now. Peace!

Thank you Mayor Antolin Oreta and Chef Melissa for welcoming us here in Malabon. #eatsmorefuninmalabon #itsmorefuninthephilippines #travelph #travelblogger

A post shared by Joel Jaws Andrada (@joeljawsandrada) on Jan 28, 2018 at 9:35pm PST

TRAVEL | MALABON’S FAITH, FOOD, FILIPINO HERITAGE & TRICYCLE TOUR What comes to mind when you hear the word Malabon? Quite honestly, aside from the famous Pancit Malabon, to me and I think to most people I know, Malabon is that city sandwiched between Navotas and Caloocan.

#departnent of tourism #itsmorefuninthephilippines #joel andrada #malabon tricycle rours #Secretary of DOT #the skin care addict #travel blogger #travelph #Wanda Teo

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