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samjacksonwc · 2 years

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Spice to Meetcha ♜ Sam × Bobbi

TIMING: Between late April and early May LOCATION: Thai Tanic, Downtown, White Crest PARTIES: @samjacksonwc & @timetide SUMMARY: Bobbi and Sam settle their differences over a nice dinner at Thai Tanic, but as it turns out, they’re the most “intensely spicy” item in the restaurant. CONTENT: Parental issue tw, parental death tw, implied suicide tw, just two lonely people getting spicy

What the hell was she thinking? Going out with the enemy’s son? Granted it was just dinner between two people that wanted to try the same restaurant out but still! Bobbi should know better, she scowled as she screamed at herself in her head, all while she sat quietly in John’s truck, much to her first mate’s amusement. The same wicked blood still runs through Sam’s veins, incompetent as he seems to be. She can’t afford to be entangled with his ilk again. For the sake of the docks and the people she’s taken to as family and friends, she should never be blinded by their silver tongues again. Fuck me.

“Penny for your thoughts, my lovely grandma?” John quipped, giving her a quick side-eye from the driver’s seat, as they made their way closer downtown. Bobbi was quick to slap him in the arm, making the boy laugh in turn. “Easy there! You’ll ruin your beautiful dress! If I didn’t know you any better, you look like you’re really into this date.” Bobbi snarled, scowling even harder, if that was even possible, as she snapped at her most loyal crewmate. “It’s not a date, John! And I’m not a grandma! I just want some Thai! Can’t a girl just get some Thai?” She followed that up with a few choice curse words in fluent Chinese. Shaking his head, John relented as they pulled up in the parking lot. “All right, all right! No need to go there, B! Sheesh!” He chuckled some more before unlocking the door, even opening her side for her. “Here we are. Enjoy your…not-date. Just let me know when to pick you up, mkay?”

“Go fuck yourself, John! I’ll head home on my own,” Bobbi growled as she pushed herself out of his truck in her somewhat fancy dress and slammed the door at him before he could speak. The huxian immediately tried to stomp out of there to keep him from making more quips, but the boy could not be denied, calling out to her one final time before driving away. “All right! Enjoy your hot night, granny!” That should have been enough for the huxian to launch lightning at his truck. Fortunately for John, he was who he was. That and Bobbi didn’t want to mess up her dress. Fucking hell, what the fuck am I doing? She took a moment to breathe hard, relaxing herself, and exhaling all the negative emotions in her body. Well, most of them. She was almost feeling great when the other person, the one she had irrationally agreed to have this dinner with, made their presence known. This curry better be kickin’ hot.

“Oh, wow!” Sam exclaimed as he approached Bobbi, a huge grin on his face. His dark brown eyes wandered all over her, wide with excitement, though half of that was for the food. Sam had been looking forward to trying out Thai Tanic for days now, weeks even, but work has been piling up and keeping him away from all the delicious danger of the cuisine. Yoo-ara had tried to come up with a compromise but even her attempt to order takeout just a couple of days ago while they worked overtime on a new campaign project proved futile: It just wasn’t in the cards for Sam and Thai Tanic. Enter Bobbi. “You look very hot tonight, Bobbi!”

If Sam had taken some time to reevaluate his whole thing with Bobbi, he would have probably realized that was not the best greeting for him to make. After all, Bobbi seemed to hate him with all her existence, and not just online. They had met before, and she seemed equally frustrated with his existence in real life. So frustrated in fact that she would have rather died in that cave alone than be saved by him of all people. She probably wouldn’t even acknowledge that if it came down to him, but he did. He saved her. Him of all people.

Sam didn’t blame her for hating him, though. He was his father’s son, and even though Sam hated his old man with the same fervor, maybe even more, he could not change the fact that his blood flowed through his own veins. He tried. Some things, you just need to live with. “I got the reservations! Pretty nice table, too. Friend said it’s the best table in the house. Shall we, my lady?” He offered her his arm to hook with her own, his excitement for Thai food clearly overwhelming his common sense.

Bobbi’s face turned red at Sam’s inane babbling, her cheeks feeling hotter than usual, mostly from the rage that his very existence was inciting within her. Mostly. That huge stupid grin on his face didn’t help. On the contrary, it made the huxian want to grit her teeth until they were dust, just to keep herself from biting him should the fury end up uncontrollable. Shut up, shut up, shut up, you dumb fuck! His voice, to her, was unbearable, every syllable coming out of his mouth a nail being hammered into her head. If all this wasn’t torture, Bobbi wouldn’t know what was.

“Let’s get one thing straight, Jackson,” Bobbi scowled at the very idea of her having to hook arms with the son of the vile man she held utmost contempt for. With a look of disgust, she took a step back, not even wanting to be anywhere near that disgusting Jackson limb. Who knows where it had been? Certainly not her. “This isn’t a date, all right?” She glared at him, making sure her almond-shaped ebony eyes were locked with his dark brown pair. “We’re just two people who happen to want to eat at the same restaurant, okay? At the same table. Nothing more. Understood?” The urge to just bite him was strong, but the brave captain of the Salmon Ella, sometimes the Salmon Fella, held herself together much stronger.

Bobbi heaved a sigh, taking in all the good air she could and then breathing them with all the negative emotions that were building inside of her again. After a moment, she managed to compose herself, turning towards the door and immediately walking towards the inside of the restaurant without even waiting for Sam. Nevermind that it was just dawning on her how she forgot to bring along her wallet. Or did John take it? Fuck! This was the wrong time to do one of your childish pranks, John! You stupid child! Clenching her jaw, she did call out to him, the only one who could pay for dinner now. No way she was leaving. She was already here. Might as well. “You better be following me, Jackson. I don’t know where that table is, but I know where I can tase you.”

Sam was caught by surprise by Bobbi’s sudden outburst, though he should have really expected it. The look on her face from the moment she saw him was a warning in itself. Plus, that whole thing about her hating his late father for reasons she had not yet shared but he simply assumed were because that guy was an asshole. He was. Even to his family. Especially to his family. Behind the scenes at least. “I didn’t say anything about a date, but understood,” he almost chuckled but managed to rein it all in. Just in case Bobbi would take offense to that, too, which of course he also understood.

Sam watched her as he took a moment to calm herself down, his lips curling into a smile. This wasn’t the first his very existence has irritated someone and he had doubts it would be the last. Maybe he was just cursed or something, the black blood of his hateful father cursing through his veins like a repulsive stench everyone else but him could not stomach. For a time, he hated that thought, but some things you just can’t change. You just have to live with them. “Coming!” Dear. He shook his head, chuckling to himself, as his feet quickened the pace to catch up to her, so he could do the most gentlemanly thing of opening the door for a woman…who can, on every account, beat the living shit out of him without even breaking a sweat.

Finally inside, Sam’s eyes grew wide in fascination. His excitement for this moment had been built up by time and his assistant Yoo-ara’s persistent ravings. This place was amazing, she said. Well, now, as the servers helped them to their table, Sam can finally relate. He waited for a moment for Bobbi to take her seat first before taking to his own. With a huge grin, he browsed the menu like a child spending their first time in a candy store. “We should definitely try that “intensely spicy” thing my friend has been raving about! Are you vegetarian, though?”

On their way to the table, Bobbi stole glimpses of Sam’s face. It wasn’t like she wanted to see his face, though. Far from it. It was more about gauging his reaction, making sure he wasn’t ogling her like the animal that he is, his father was. Surprisingly, Sam seemed more interested in the restaurant than her. Wait, why’s that surprising? That’s actually a relief. She heaved a sigh at that thought, believing it might actually just end up a peaceful night, a welcomed respite from all the troubles she’s had to endure the past few weeks.

Then Sam opened his mouth and a familiar but unwelcomed wave of anger washed over Bobbi, reminding her of what his blood had done to her all those years ago, the persecution and the debt paid and owed. She clenched her jaw, almost slamming her fists on the table. Fortunately, she caught herself, and although the server was clearly confused, they seemed more interested in getting their work done as fast as they could so they could leave them be. A smart tactic.

“I’m not,” the anger in her tone was apparent, so she paused for a few seconds to let herself calm down. “...a vegetarian, Jackson. Let’s get whatever that is then. Oh, wait, aren’t you too weak to handle anything intense? Maybe you should get something else.” Bobbi turned to the server who appeared extremely uncomfortable to be there, pretending they were in on the supposed gag. “He’s got a weak stomach. Boys, am I right?”

“I appreciate the concern, Bobbi,” Sam chuckled, oblivious to Bobbi’s rising blood pressure. A part of him wanted to quip, intentionally calling her baby instead of her name just to get another rise from her. Then he realized that it would not be worth endangering their server, himself, and anyone else close by. “But my stomach?” Like an idiot, he slapped it with both hands not unlike a professional wrestler would their chest to hype themselves up, still grinning from ear to ear. “My stomach is made of steel! I am ready for the challenge!”

He didn’t even have time to look back at Bobbi. Instead, Sam focused his attention at their server, a pretty little thing, definitely his type, which was a wide category most precisely defined as “every woman on God’s green Earth,” and with a playful smirk, ordered the “intensely spicy” thing his friend has been raving about. The server just stared at him, though, and asked what he was talking about.

Sam just said the same thing again: “The intensely spicy thing? It’s on your menu. Here, let me just,” but when he went over it, there was nothing. As if the damned thing had never existed. As if Yoo-ara had been lying to him for several weeks now. As if the whole reason for this dinner was a sham. “It was here a moment ago.” He turned to Bobbi not unlike a child looking for an ally. Was this place gaslighting him? Why? This was his first time. If this is the intensely spicy thing Yoo-ara meant, I am so screaming at her back at the office.

“It wasn’t concern, Jackson,” Bobbi shot him a look of disgust even before he started playing with his stomach. Like, who even does that? And at a restaurant, too, with a beautiful girl as his date. Not that this was a date per se, but people around them probably and mistakenly thought it was, so he should really be careful at how he was acting right then and there. Of course, Bobbi didn’t really care. Pft. Of course not. Why would she care? She was just there to try out the restaurant for the first time. Just unfortunate Sam was here with her at the same time.

Bobbi heaved a sigh, rolling her eyes and crossing her arms, as she sat back in her seat, annoyed at Sam’s “intense” “fight” with the poor server. It was more like a squabble, really, between a misinformed idiot and someone just doing their job. “Look, Jackson,” she finally had to step in, not wanting to prolong the server’s agony. “If it’s not on the menu, just order something else.” She wasn’t about to enable his delusions, especially not while she was hungry. Bobbi shifted her full attention to the server, and with a smile, went with an old favorite. “I’ll have the yam talay and gaeng keow wan with steamed rice.”

Back in the good old days, when she was still the bad young pirate Baozhai, Bobbi had visited the shores of Thailand more times than she could remember. It had been quite the ordeal, learning the language during the first few visits, but over time, she had managed to speak it quite fluently, even adopting the accent with relative ease. To this day, she still does business with the Thai, though most of it is legal procurement. The only thing debatable is the manner of transport. Things can be quite a hassle when it comes to differing authorities.

“Ugh, fine,” Sam rolled his eyes like a petulant child, deeply disappointed by the lack of the one thing that had been urging him to try this place out. What was the point now? If the primary cause of an event ceased to exist, does the event still hold meaning? Or something like that. Sam tried to put a deeper logic into his supposed defeat but there really was none. Even a part of him knew that, the same part that allowed him to just let it go with a deep sigh. “I’ll just have what the beautiful lady in the beautiful dress is having.”

Sam continued to mope as they waited for their food, burdened by his helplessness as his main motivation for this venture dissipated into nothingness as if it didn’t even exist in the first place. Was Yoo-ara fucking with him again? Probably not. She seemed genuinely obsessed with the damned thing. Then again, she was a believable actress when she really wanted to be. Ugh. Life can be so cruel at times, so cruel in fact that he didn’t even remember how interesting the other person at the table was.

When the food finally arrived, Sam just stared at it for a few minutes, disgusted by its presence, even though everything smelled so wonderful and appetizing. The waitress took one look at him and flashed Bobbi a concerned look that also contained a little bit of discomfort. Why was a grown man acting like a child over Thai food? Some things the server will never know. After a while, Sam heaved another deep sigh and picked up his chopsticks. In the end, he realized he was already there, and chances were, he was going to get saddled with the entire bill, so there was no point in letting good food go to waste. “Itadakimasu.”

Bobbi turned red, surprised at Sam’s flattery. Although she did dress up for the occasion, against her better judgment, she wasn’t expecting him to notice her dress. Or her beauty. But then she remembered how annoying he was during their conversations, whether online or in real time, and that red turned from shyness to anger. Is he mocking me? Him, of all people? With his father’s disgusting blood running through his veins? What the flying fuck. “You’re such an idiot, Jackson.”

As Sam moped throughout the waiting time for their meal, Bobbi sulked, arms crossed over her chest, face turned far away from Sam’s direction. She felt that if she was to take another look at his face, her fists and her feet would follow suit, and she was wearing a dress too nice for a justified beatdown. Besides, she really wanted to try the food here. Screw Sam and his stupid face. Stupid shitty Sam. He wasn’t going to ruin this night for her. Not when she was wearing a beautiful dress.

Focusing her attention on the food, Bobbi ignored Sam, pretending like he didn’t exist right across her. She couldn’t ignore the server, however, mostly because she’s been in that position before, and if she wanted to come back here with better company, she probably shouldn’t make such a bad first impression. She’d rather not be remembered as that kind of customer. With an apologetic look, Bobbi sympathized with the server. At least they’re not in my shoes right now. Would be worse. She was already eating her food when Sam spoke in Japanese, surprising her so much that she couldn’t resist commenting on it. “You speak Japanese?” Hopefully, he was just one of those weebs John won’t stop complaining about.

“What?” Sam was caught surprised with Bobbi’s sudden aggression. He was just trying to compliment her, and it wasn’t even that bad of a compliment. Her dress was indeed very beautiful and maybe because of that she also looked somewhat beautiful tonight. Well, to be fair, Sam has always thought Bobbi was beautiful. That was very hard to deny. It was just her attitude, mostly against him, that scared him, pushed him away, made him think twice about hitting on her. As he shouldn’t. “What did I do?”

Sam was already munching on a shrimp when Bobbi raised the concern regarding the languages he knew. Swallowing the rest of it whole, which was probably not something he should’ve done, unless he wanted to offend Bobbi some more, which wasn’t his intention, not at all, Sam beamed with pride as he tried to satiate her curiosity. “Well, it is the language of anime and all other superior forms of art!” Sam was definitely a weeb, and if that wasn’t clear before, this would’ve made it clearer for Bobbi. “I learned it in university a while back. Roommate was into it, too, so I learned from her. Also went to Japan a few times for some seminars.”

“What about you?” He took a piece of chicken and started gobbling on it, ignoring the sauce now painting his mouth like it was a canvas. Sam knew his tableside manners, but at this point in time, he was messing up East Asian etiquette with his laziness. If he remembered correctly, it was a compliment if soup was slurped, though for the life of him, he couldn’t quite recall if not wiping the grease around his mouth fell in the same category. “I’m sure a ship captain such as yourself knows a few languages more than one?”

So many things, Sam. Bobbi heaved a long, drawn out sigh of disbelief. She rolled her eyes, intentionally not looking at Sam, not paying the politician her full attention. He deserved nothing of the sort, only her ire. “What didn’t you do?” Angrily, she couldn’t eating, shoving the delicious morsel into her mouth. She made sure not to make loud noises, however, still respecting the sanctity of the restaurant. It wasn’t their fault Sam was…Sam. It was his and his alone.

“Anime?” She groaned in dismay, though it was short-lived. As much as she hated Sam, Bobbi could not deny that she found some anime the same. A lot of them were hilarious, and a few of them even spoke to her. But she wasn’t going to tell Sam any of that. She didn’t want to have anything similar to him, most of all her taste in entertainment. Bobbi still viewed herself as a step better than Sam, mostly because of his father, a story that would be left for another time. “Uh-huh… Your roommate was a woman? Must’ve been one amazing gal…to be able to withstand you, Jackson.”

To prove her superiority, Bobbi began speaking in different languages, transitioning easily from one to the next. It helped that China itself, where she had come from, spent most of her early life around, had over a dozen languages just alone. She also spoke in Korean, of course, as she sailed near the country before it was broken in two. There was also a more fluent and much smoother Japanese thrown in there, some Filipino, Thai, and a myriad of other languages heard around the Pacific, her former wading ground as a pirate. “I know more than you, Jackson. Always.”

There was a point when Sam would wonder if Bobbi’s hatred of him included him as a separate person from his father, but he dared not ask. He didn’t think she knew him enough yet to distinguish him as his own person. Whatever his father did to her must have been horrible, but his old man had never run out of horrible acts he had committed himself over the years. Just the pain of being born his son, nothing new.

When the talk shifted towards his roommate, Sam grew more serious. “She was,” was all he could muster, head bowed down to his bowl, pretending to tinker with his meal, even though he was instead wrestling with bad memories. His roommate was more than an amazing gal. She had inspired him to carry on, to continue fighting, despite his past, his horrible childhood, and the blood on his name. It was a terrible shame that, in the end, it was her who did what she stopped him from doing, and Sam couldn’t even save her from her own sadness. I didn’t even know.

Bobbi’s impressive display of language fluency distracted him from his dark thoughts, however, and Sam immediately found himself grinning from ear to ear. Leaning back in awe, with meat still in his mouth, he started applauding her, truly bewildered by how many languages she knew. “Dang, Bobbi! That’s… I don’t even know how to… No words can express how amazed I am with you!” He shook his head in disbelief but with wide eyes shimmering in the restaurant’s artificial light. “You definitely do! That’s so cool! Must’ve traveled a lot while you were a kid, huh?”

Bobbi raised an eyebrow when she noticed Sam acting funny. Well, not funny. Definitely not funny haha, more like funny sus. As per usual, she had been picking up new terms and words from the crew, John especially. Was it something I said? Should she apologize? No, whatever it is, it’s on him, not me. Bobbi assured herself it was nothing more than his bloodline again. Their family was always a pain in the ass to her, and most of that was because they were a pain in the ass to themselves. Really messed up, she assumed, even though the only one she had butted heads with was Sam’s dad.

Bobbi was caught even more surprised when Sam complimented her. Sure, he had already done that before, especially tonight, but Bobbi thought he was going to insult her back. After all, she did mock him and all that he’s ever known. The natural thing was to argue back, prove himself better than what she knows of him. Maybe he’s just really that messed up. With a sigh, she rolled her eyes and took another bite out of her meal. “Sure, let’s go with that.”

Bobbi soon found herself thinking of her own childhood. The intense amount of traveling didn’t happen until much later. For most of her youth, before she even got any closer to adulthood, she was landlocked in the mountains of China. Before she met the pirates, she had never thought about the rest of the world, already content with hers, all of which she had already explored on her own. As safely as possible. “You did a lot of traveling when you were a kid?” She could only imagine.

Sam shrugged, pulling himself off his plate and taking his napkin to wipe his mouth and then his hands clean. He felt like continuing to eat while talking about himself was somewhat weird, like he shouldn’t, even though there was no real deep meaning behind it. Sam was free to talk and eat like anyone else. Yet there he was, thinking he could only do one or the other, not both. He stared at Bobbi, reaching out to clean the side of her mouth with his used napkin after noticing a tiny piece of shrimp on it.

“Not as much as you, I guess,” he grinned. Sam was able to do some traveling of his own, sure, but most of it was hitching a ride with friends, getting one or two of them to bring him along to wherever they felt like it. His trip to Singapore? A friend who liked him needed a fake boyfriend to keep her parents off her back. His trip to India? A bunch of his schoolmates wanted to do some soul searching, Eat, Pray, Love style. His first time in South Korea? Well, that was when he met Yoo-ara and almost married her. Weird how the world works sometimes.

“What’s your favorite place outside of White Crest?” The question popped up in his head randomly and was immediately blurted out, as if it couldn’t wait to be spoken and heard. The town was great and all, mostly because it was Sam’s job to think that and make sure others thought the same, but he was off the clock, and to be honest, he’d rather have been born elsewhere, as someone else. Weird can be a lot of pain.

Despite having tried her best to shift the conversation elsewhere, Bobbi still couldn’t shrug off the sadness that seemed to emanate from Sam. He was trying to hide it with that grin and that distracting question, perhaps trying to follow her lead in shifting their conversation to happier topics, but it was unmistakable. Bobbi has had the same herself, and she might even still have it. Slowly, her unwarranted and undeserved hatred of him, spurred by something he could not even change, began to dissipate. It wasn’t like Bobbi had forgotten who he was, who his father was, but it was like she was seeing him in a different light.

“Actually not all that great,” she shrugged, this time following his lead. Letting go of her utensils, she wiped her mouth off the grease of her very delicious food, took a quick swig of her drink, and leaned forward, elbows resting on the table. As if she wasn’t wearing a hoity toity dress. “Just means I couldn’t find a place to settle in, you know?” It was perhaps the most vulnerable thing she had shared with him since the first time they met. Bobbi had tried her best to focus on antagonizing him, making sure this Jackson Jr. didn’t get to have something over her, but this meal seemed to have changed her mind. “Favorite place outside of White Crest? Singapore, maybe, or Hong Kong. You ever visited those places?”

By the time they finished their meal, Bobbi felt herself loosening up. She wasn’t quite sure if it was just the food or maybe even Sam himself, but she wasn’t as agitated as she always was around him. Maybe it was even food poisoning. It was hard to tell, and she didn’t really put much thought into it. One thing’s for sure, she needed something stronger inside of her. “Speaking of, I just got some baijiu shipped over, Chinese liquor, kinda like whiskey, but way better. You’re welcome to try some, if you’re down? Never did thank you for saving my life in that cave.”

“Ah, well,” Sam found familiarity in Bobbi’s revelation. A traveler who just couldn’t find a place to settle in and another one who just wants to get as far away as he can from home, only to be drawn back to it a few years later. There was irony in that. Or was it something else? Sam had never been good with his literature. Not actually as technical as he saw himself to be. “You’re here now. With your crew. Sounds like you inevitably did, which is a good thing, if I can be so bold.”

Sam raised his glass as he leaned forward and tempted fate by gesturing to Bobbi that it would be the most opportune moment to clink theirs together. Why? He had no idea why. It just felt like it to him. Must be the loneliness in the night. “Been to both once or twice. One of them has a Disneyland, right?” He tried to make her laugh, even though he knew she would never. She must have really been screwed over by his deadbeat dad to hate him this much, even as he squirmed and squiggled in his grave. Which he deserves. He was just a casualty, again, of his father’s terrible schemes and past misdeeds. He heaved a sigh at that thought, wondering if he’d ever escape his influence. Probably not.

Sam raised an eyebrow, caught off-guard by the offer. He was just finishing his drink, and as he carefully returned his glass back on the table, he looked like he had just swallowed something terrible. Like an entire bottle of soju. Great drink, but goes down terribly. At least for Sam that was true. He even had to let out a cough as he tried his best to respond right away. “You sure? At your place? You’re not just going to murder me, are you? I mean, I’d deserve it, but at least give me a few days to wet my whistle first. Or months. Maybe years.”

Sam laughed at his own expense, shaking his head. He wondered, right then and there, if Bobbi was just as lonely as him, too.

“I guess I am,” a smile found its way across Bobbi’s lips as she stared at a table decoration between the two of them, the cozy realization of having found a home while still working on retrieving her old one slowly softened her heart and herself to Sam. “I guess I did.” It wasn’t something that she had intended to experience, still fuming over his father’s betrayal. But after a few drinks, and this heart-to-heart conversation, it seemed that this Jackson was far from following in his dead old man’s footsteps. If she didn’t know they were related, perhaps she wouldn’t even have made the connection. “Both of them actually.”

“Trust me, Sam,” Bobbi raised an eyebrow, a sinister but still playful smirk taking root on her face as she leaned forward, closer towards him, as if a sultry temptress reeling in a hapless sailor. Between the two of them, though, she was both. “If I wanted to murder you, I’d have done it months ago.”

It wasn’t a lie. Bobbi did antagonize Sam so much that it was becoming a fast habit. But there was no extra incentive for her to further that heat between them. A part of her knew he was just a victim of circumstance: You can’t really change who you are. Or choose your parents. “Last chance, Sam Jackson,” she finished her drink, cleaning the glass down to the last drop. “Drive me home for the best drink of your life?”

Sam let out a chuckle at Bobbi’s quip, finding it amusing but at the same time still very much threatening. He didn’t doubt Bobbi could murder him. Something about her just screamed dangerous to him, but in the moment, he found it more alluring than something else. Sam was like the moth to Bobbi’s flame, and a part of him knew that despite her seemingly changed demeanor towards him tonight, getting close to her would spell his doom, burn him flesh to bone. But could anyone even resist someone like her?

Sam quickly finished his drink, dark brown eyes glued on Bobbi, and paid for their meal even quicker. Before he knew it, he was driving them both to her place, a houseboat at the docks, somewhere that he had been before, outside of it at least, when he managed to save her from that strange creature in the cave a while back. Back then, Bobbi threatened him to stay away, though he could not remember if she explicitly told him off or if it was just her impressively scary aura. Right now and here, however, all he could put his mind to was the way she tasted, the way she felt, as they boarded her home aloft on the waves, bound to the town.

The morning after, Sam was the first to wake. Of course, he was. It had been so long since he was with anyone, woke up at someone else’s place, a ray of sunlight hitting him in the face. He had never done it on a boat before, though, lie as he might, and watching a sleeping Bobbi with all her natural beauty made him feel amazing about everything else. When she started to stir, he turned his body towards her, draped and clothed only by her sheets, a wide smile on his face. “Good morning, sunshine!”

Hook, line, and sinker. That was an oft-used phrase at the docks, though to be fair, Bobbi has also heard it everywhere there was sea, fish, and someone with the patience to spend hours waiting for the perfect moment, the perfect bite. Bobbi did not have to wait for hours to get Sam’s positive reply to her invitation, and soon, they were in his car, listening to and laughing at his terrible music taste. “You need to get those ears checked, Sam. Or make better friends with better music in their playlists.”

As soon as they arrived at her place, Bobbi wasted no time in pulling him close, savagely dominating his past enemy’s son, claiming her superiority over him. Everything that happened between them in the late hours of the night, she signed off on, maybe even needed. It was, in its most basic form, her defiance against everything weird that has happened in town recently, her own “weird” to establish her unbowing dominance. The ghost fleet might have chained her to the town, but she was not crying her entire stay here. Bobbi was too proud, and too stubborn, for that.

And then sunlight betrayed her, morning forced her awake, pushing her right into the consequences of her actions. As if she was a migrating bird whose wings just rudely vanished on her, finding herself dumped into a lake of…majestic hair. Sam? “Ugh, why are you still here,” Bobbi groaned as she pushed him away, rolling in bed to turn her back to him. Like Sam, the sheets draped her from head to toe, as if she were a burrito, which she felt like she was. “Leave, you idiot. I want to sleep the rest of the day, and this hangover, away.” And you. And whatever this one-time thing was. Definitely a one-time thing.

Sam thought about arguing back, arguing to stay, maybe to cook her breakfast, ultimately missing the point that this was a one-time thing. But what crowded his mind more was the view he had of her last night, when he was on top, the bare truth of her very being, vulnerable and magnificent instead of life-threatening and scary. But that in itself was short lived because Bobbi was quick to flip them over and force herself on top, as if she had something to prove. Or maybe she just didn’t want him lording over her. Sam didn’t mind. Sam was just happy to be there.

Instead of saying anything, Sam just took a moment to watch her for the final time today, as if committing her form to memory, a wide smile still on his face. His hand moved towards her hair, but he managed to stop it. Rolling off the bed, he picked up his clothes and dressed himself. Once he was done, he also picked up her clothes on the floor, and after cleaning his side of her bed, placed them there as neatly as possible. On his way out, he made sure to do some more quick cleaning of her makeshift living room, just picking up things on the floor and placing them on her chair or table. That sort of stuff, the stuff normal one-time things never require. Because it’s just a one-time thing.

On his way to his car, Sam hummed happily, almost skipping as he went. He passed by a familiar looking guy. James, wasn’t it? Or maybe Jack. He gave him a node, a wide smile still on his face. “Gooooooood morning, my good man!” The other guy just squinted at him, scowling, before turning to look at Bobbi’s houseboat. Sam didn’t see it and instead started his car, listening to his terrible music taste, before heaving a sigh, this time of delight. It was a good day. Yes, it is. Probably even the best day of his year, of his entire stay in this god-forsaken town, of his mediocre life from day one.

Yet time has other things in mind, and the universe can be such a cruel storyteller.

[END]

#wickedswriting #❖《 ⋯ ♖ para ♜ ⋯ 》❖#❖《 ⋯ ♖ feat. bobbi lin ♜ ⋯ 》❖#timetide #❖《 ⋯ ♖ spice to meetcha ♜ ⋯ 》❖#parental death tw #Parental issues tw #suicide tw #❖《 ⋯ ♖ s4. fractures ♜ ⋯ 》❖

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ofcommonrooms · 1 year

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" angels would damn themselves for me "

( renée rapp, 19, cis woman, she&her ) hey, is that NARCISSA BLACK wandering the halls without a companion? the FIFTH YEAR is getting bold. and here I thought the SLYTHERIN was always more confident, intelligent, & protective. but then they are also known to be conceited, self-centered, & aloof, so maybe that makes sense. these hard times are enough to change anybody, I suppose. and did you hear people are saying they’re in THE KNIGHTS? rumors fly when people are cooped up. here, I’ll show you — NARCISSA always reminded me of the glimmer of sun reflecting off a mirror, black patent stilettos, powder on the end of a brush, earl grey tea, vanilla beans, pressed flowers, a music box with a squeaky hinge charmed to be perfect, the scent of an old book, French music, Latin books, tulle skirts, starry nights, satin dresses, pressed flowers, a silver dagger hidden a garter belt and I’ve heard THAT VAPID PERSONALITY SHE WEARS SO WELL IS A FACADE. let’s hope the PUREBLOOD doesn’t get attacked by the beast. or let’s at least hope that rumor doesn’t get back to them before they do.

------ graphic credit | @sorberts [ HERE ]

CONTENT WARNING(S) FOR THIS SECTION: SNAKES

full name ;; narcissa irma black

age ;; 19

house ;; slytherin

boggart ;; narcissa would love to say that it was something almighty and selfless, but her boggart takes the shape of herself, in absolutely deplorable conditions. ratty hair, dirt on her nose, clothing in pieces. she's worked her entire life to cling to her family's fortune - nothing scared her more than losing it.

patronus ;; on the exceedingly rare occasion that she produces a Patronus, it takes the form of a snake.

favorite spell ;; Petrificus Totalus - a relatively consequence free way of getting the last word. Just petrify them! However, she's also a fan of passing notes in class using Aparecium.

amortentia ;; a field of daffodils, the air of the Amalfi Coast and Lucius' cologne 'the pasta her nanny made when she was a child.'

wand ;;

—- wood ; elm wood | Elm wands prefer owners with presence, magical dexterity and a certain native dignity. Of all wand woods, elm, in my experience, produces the fewest accidents, the least foolish errors, and the most elegant charms and spells; these are sophisticated wands, capable of highly advanced magic in the right hands (which makes it highly desirable to those who espouse the pure blood philosophy).

—- core ; phoenix tail feather | This is one of the rarest core types. Phoenix feathers are capable of the greatest range of magic, though they may take longer than either unicorn hair or dragon heartstring cores to reveal this. They show the most initiative, sometimes acting of their own accord, a quality that many witches and wizards dislike.

—- length ; 10 inches

playlist ;; [ HERE ]

pinboard ;; [ HERE ]

Content Warnings for this Section: PARENTAL CONFLICT / ARRANGED MARRIAGE / SEXISM

It was cold the day Narcissa Irma Black was brought into the world. It seemed prophetic, almost, noting the icy heart the girl would grow to have. She came out quietly, without too many cries and even as the Healers washed her off gently she was soft. Soft in her appearance - surprising blonde hair which was a stark difference to that of her sisters and parents and cheeks that held a blush of their own and would for the years to come. Soft in her expression - equal parts afraid and curious at once. Soft in her noises - small baby coos passed her plump pink lips as the last of the blood was wiped off of her body. Upon the announcement that Druella Black had given birth to another girl, Cygnus chose to turn the other way, storming towards his office rather than in to meet his daughter. Yet Druella held Narcissa Black in her arms, staring at her with a plan sparkling behind her eyes. She could barely even open her own eyes by the time her mother was planning the future her little girl would have. Because power, overt and strong like that which Cygnus so desperately wanted, was important. But an understated power - the kind that came with being underestimated while simultaneously being placed on a pedestal - that was what the dark-haired woman saw when she looked into the soft eyes of her daughter.

And that was exactly what Narcissa Black became. Molding herself into the strict and unbending expectations her mother had for her. She sat there while her hair was curled and allowed her outfits to be chosen for her. She curtsied and nodded as was deemed necessary and as her mother had predicted, the pedestal she built for her youngest daughter seemed as high as she'd hoped it would be. The problem with being held up so high is that there is a very long way to fall, and while the Pureblood society practically idolized the gorgeous girl, many were waiting for her to crumble. But there were many conversations between Druella and her prodigal daughter. Conversations where she continued drilling into her how good she was. How she was perfect and beautiful and that the world wasn't going to be ready for the powerhouse she could be beneath curled eyelashes and pretty pink polished nails.

As she entered Hogwarts, the Sorting Hat exclaimed "SLYTHERIN" before being placed on her head. And she knew, of course she knew that's where she'd be. Everyone in Hogwarts knew that's where she'd be. What they didn't know, what nobody knew, was the monster of a girl she hid behind her demure facade. The girl inside knew how much she was worth and she knew that if she used her strengths as well as her mother had taught her to she would be unstoppable. And her mother had taught her well. So well, in fact, that Cygnus Black himself stood impressed before his daughter at times, listening as she spoke clearly and concisely, reaching points with a kind of precision that was hard to find even in skilled politicians and socialites. Being the youngest daughter brought no extra praise from the man, but having the skills he would have valued in a son did earn at least a bit of his respect. So she tried and tried and kept trying. Her sisters, Bellatrix and Andromeda, were the two most important things in her life and the reason she tried so hard. It was the only way she could think of to protect the two of them, because if she met every standard Druella tried pushing on her, perhaps that would keep her from pushing those impossible pressures onto Narcissa's sisters. And maybe she wasn't strong in a lot of ways but she'd always been strong in that way, not only meeting but exceeding the dreams Druella had for her.

It came as a surprise to no one when it was announced she would be marrying Lucius Malfoy. Since birth they'd known, honestly. The two beautiful well-mannered Purebloods whose children would be beautiful - why wouldn't they end up together? Why would she be able to make her own decisions when she never had before? But Narcissa had always given her all to the things she was told to do, following the rules she was given without a second thought. She never stopped to think of the impact it may have on her future, because of her mother told her to do it she would do it. So she abandoned the ideas of the fairytales she'd hidden beneath her floorboard as a child. Abandoned the idea that she might be the princess who gets her prince one day. After all, she told herself every morning as she slid her lip gloss on, she was already a princess. At least that's what everyone told her she was.

O N E ;; In evenings of utmost desperation, Narcissa sometimes delves into her collection of Muggle fairytales. She hides them in a box beneath a blanket beneath a hex that hides it from sight, beneath her floorboards. She wasn't sure growing up whether she would ever have a happy ending, so filling that void with imaginary tales of Cinderella and Rapunzel made that an easier truth to swallow.

T W O ;; Narcissa can speak 6 different languages, and understand 10. Growing up, Druella instructed her that men don't like smart women, society will always underestimate you, let them, stand idly by in rooms where conversations are being held and listen, because they won't see you as enough of a threat or concern to hold their tongues. So, while she may consciously fail an answer or two in History of Magic, she has spent her entire life learning languages to eavesdrop on conversations that important people assumed her too daft to digest.

T H R E E ;; When things start to become harrowing, Narcissa studies Healing in secret. I've always imagined that the Malfoy Manor becomes somewhat of a safe house for the side of the Purebloods, and have a vivid image of one of the Knights of Walpurgis lying injured on one of their kitchen counters as Narcissa Heals them, due to her steadfast loyalty to her friends, and streak of protectiveness.

F O U R ;; Narcissa is incredibly skilled at Occlumency, and has been practicing since she was a First Year. While she's not as good at Legilimency, she's starting to study that. This HC is based off of the fact that on multiple occasions it's implied that her mind was unable to be breached by Voldemort.

F I V E ;; Narcissa has been a ballet dancer since she was young - another obligation Druella pushed her into (it's distinguished, Narcissa, it's impressive, it's something that wealthy families pride themselves on), but this was one that Narcissa dearly loved. After a particularly impressive recital, Druella gifted her a music box with a ballerina in it that's charmed to dance independently whenever the box is opened, and "sleeps" whenever the box is shut.

LUCIUS ;; The pair has been 'betrothed' since childhood. A match made in heaven for the couple's parents, surely. Growing up, the visual of her parents' marriage was loveless at best, so Narcissa braced herself for a future just the same. However, Narcissa nursed a schoolgirl crush on the boy as a child, unsure if it was genuine, or manifested out of wishful thinking. As time has gone by, Narcissa can confidently say - not due to any desperation to actually love the man she was set to marry - she'd fallen hard. Until Draco is born, he's the most important person in her life.

BELLATRIX & ANDROMEDA ;; Dynamics tbd !

BEST FRIEND ;; A close confidant, someone to paint her nails with in their dorm and gossip about other people until late into the night. She's very guarded, and likely wouldn't bare all of her qualms to this person, but she still feels closer to them than most.

PROTECTORS ;; I always imagine that some of the other Knights of Walpurgis are somewhat protective of Narcissa? When you earn her loyalty, it's truly undying, so if there are any Knights who want to be a little guard dog, please know you will also be receiving Very Mean Chihuahua Narcissa who's ready to pounce on anyone who wrongs you, as well (though sometimes that's exactly what gets her in these situations where she needs a little backup)

ARCH NEMESIS ;; Okay, maybe that's a little dramatic, but the pair bickers nonstop - this person probably bests Narcissa in just about every subject and might just hold that over her head, which causes Narcissa to steam because she's 'so much smarter than any of these stupid people even realize' - drama and pettiness ensures

#petrifyintro #( intro | narcissa )#( narcissa | you're like snow. beautiful but cold. )#snake tw #sexism tw #parental issues tw #arranged marriage tw

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