You’re looking at the future Doctor Elena Gilbert.
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@mirandasommers
You’re looking at the future Doctor Elena Gilbert.
How Miranda Stole Halloween
"It’s not like I’m stopping you from going out. In fact, I want you to go out and then show up in your I’m-sure-very-sexy-costume." Grayson shot her a small smile. "You haven’t even told me yet what you’re going to be. Did you decide?"
"Funny, but I'm not really feeling any of that festive Halloween spirit from you, so I'm thinking maybe you don't really deserve to know what I may or may not be dressing up as tonight." She smiled pleasantly, matter-of-factly, even.
Sar, this is SO the Gilberts, in any verse:
"Grayson, can you not talk about anything supernatural for, like, two minutes, please? Grayson, for fuck's sake, I'm about to go into labor, and you are STRESSING ME OUT."
Bottom of the River - Delta Rae
How Miranda Stole Halloween
"How many times do I have to tell you that I hate Halloween?” Grayson just didn’t want to deal with the holiday. It wasn’t like he was anti-dressing up, anti-dancing or anti-partying, he was just anti-Halloween.
"Uh, wow. Okay, Mr. Grinch." She's aware that the Grinch is strictly Christmas, but hey, like she gave a shit; there could absolutely be a Halloween Scrouge. "Look, you give out and eat a lot of candy, get wasted, dress up, and scare little kids. As far as I'm concerned, I was born for this holiday."
You think I’m a nerd?
When was the last time you left your room aside from a.) needing to pee, b.) getting some food, c.) playing Xbox, or d.) asking for money to buy more art supplies?
Are you sure you're my son?
Hey, nerd.
prom night || grayson.
A smirk tugged at Grayson’s lips hearing that Miranda came stag to Prom. He didn’t bother making fun of her because she seemed mortified as it was. Although, he found hilarious irony that she had attempted to make fun of him for suffering the same fate. “What’s the plan for after you steal the crown?” He asked, side gazing at her. “You throwing a party? Going to one?”
"Honestly?" Miranda had half the mind to end the conversation here. It was too damn depressing -- not to mention, embarrassing. She was feeling out of her element. God, to think, that Grayson Gilbert, all-star annoyance of her life, had now wiggled his way out of her element. The fact that Miranda Sommers now had an 'element' at all. Jesus Christ. Nothing fazed her -- nothing, apparently, except him. "No. I'm finishing up here, and then... going home, I guess." She shrugged, feeling utterly run down. "Though I'm sure Kelly will drag me out somewhere," she trailed off, pausing. "Why do you care?"
[college] Grayson & Miranda || I'll let the bad parts in
Hearing Miranda’s reply caused Grayson’s mouth to part and his eyes to widen. “I don’t need protection.” He shook his head at her. “I’m already protected.” He looked down at their joined hands. “I’m literally protected by my family’s legacy with this this bulky-as-hell ring.” He pointed out. “And growing up knowing that I’d have to hunt like my ancestors.”
"It would only be more distracting to have you around me. Not like I could ever think clearly when you were around me, even when we couldn’t stand each other." He explained seriously. "One of the many reasons why I never told my other girlfriends. If I’m too busy being concerned if you’re safe, then I can’t get the job over and done with. It’s not as bad as you imagine it to be." He promised. "I’m used to hunting." He sighed feeling like his patrols were going to become a hurdle in their relationship. It concerned him because she didn’t have a protection ring and he didn’t think that Abby knew how to make more.
"Don’t get me wrong… I love that you care." Grayson leaned closer to Miranda, leaning his forehead against hers.
Butting heads with Grayson felt like conversing with a brick wall sometimes. It was frustrating; she was frustrated. Though, over time, she'd learned to bite her tongue. Really, it took everything she had not to explode in his face or demand that he see reason (or, more appropriately, her reason). Instead, she clenched her jaw. She listened as he spoke, identifying reason after reason as to why she couldn't do this, but he could do that; and he was raised to do this, but she would only get in the way of his destiny. Needless to say, she was growing more and more irate by the moment.
Finally, she drew back, looking him dead in the eyes. There was a fire in her own, intense and hot, its own vital force.
"I'm not asking for your blessing or your permission," she said, her tone firm. "Grayson, with or without you, I would have wound up here. I knew about vampires before we were together. I've been attacked by vampires, used by vampires. My sister was almost killed my vampires. If you think, for one second, that I'm going to sit on my ass and let you play Rambo while I pretend like I'm totally on board -- which I'm not -- then you don't know me at all.
You do your thing, and I'll do mine, but it's personal. I may not have some extravagant family legacy, but the second that I found Jenna half-dead in that ditch, it became my business, too. So, you either get out of my way, or know that there isn't a person, alive or dead, that will keep me from making sure that what happens to Jenna never happens to her, or anyone I love, ever again."
Doctor, doctor... || Canon!Gilberts
Trying to stifle a laugh, Grayson bit down hard on his lip. He didn’t think any patient would appreciate being laughed at. It would be highly inappropriate of him. “I did warn you.” He replied looking at her with confusion as she re-situated herself on the table. “And you’ll be out of here soon. I don’t make a habit of torturing my patients.” He promised and moved to drawers behind him to get the materials for her cast.
About fifteen minutes later, Miranda was ready to go. “I’ll be calling your house to check up on you.” He explained with a sincere smile. “If you need anything, anything at all, please call the office.” He nodded looking down at her. “You’re free to go now. Now remember, I want you staying off your foot for at least 6 weeks.” He gave her a pointed look saying there were no exceptions to his instructions. He knew she was going to protest. She was a bit of a firecracker; that much he had already figured out from their first interaction.
Was love at first sight a real thing? Okay, so, maybe this wasn't love, but it was definitely lust and something else. 'Something else' purely because the drive wasn't just to sleep with him. She wanted to know about him, wanted to get close to him. She had it bad, and they had made said twelve full sentences (run-on, for her) to one another. It was that -- oh, and, you know, he was several years her senior.
She really knew how to pick them.
"Six weeks? Yeah, okay," That was going to happen. But she smiled and feigned acceptance. Summoning up what was left of her self-proclaimed swagger and dignity, she gave him a look (quite possibly, The Look), and then hobbled inelegantly passed him toward the door.
"I'll call you," Miranda maintained, making no point to indicate that she meant his office. "Bye, Doc."
mirandasommers replied to your post: YOUR MUM DOES NOT APPROVE. —— I AM SCREAMING. MOM. ON MOTHER’S DAY. I AM YELLING AT THE TOP OF MY LUNGS.
He groaned, loudly and dramatically, lying there like a dead person as his mom tried to drag him out. “But bed.” Bed was important. He was a growing teenager, he needed his sleep. But … food. “This is cruel and unusual punishment,” he muttered morosely. “Cruel, I tell you. And if anyone was adopted, it was Elena. That pep can’t be natural.”
Miranda's a terrible liar, but her poker face is admittedly strong when it comes to the 'a' word. She laughs a little, because what the fuck? Jeremy has no idea about Elena. Only four people in the whole world know about Elena. As far as everyone else is concerned, she gave birth to her; and she plans to keep it that way, for now. "Elena is almost a mirror image of your father," she's still tugging at his feet, determined to pull him out of his bed. "... and, oh my god, when was the last time you showered?" she releases them if only because he smells like a garbage can. "Seriously, get up, or I'll call Kelly Donovan up and tell her to pass the message along to her really pretty daughter that my son smells like a trash can."
hauntedgilbert replied to your post:
YOU JUST TOLD HIM HE WAS ADOPTED
SHE WAS JOKING U LITTLE SHIT.
"And if anyone was adopted, it was Elena."
More like, "GO TO UR FUCKIN ROOM FOR THE NEXT TWELVE YEARS, JEREMY."
It’s not knowledge, it’s a talent. It takes skill to be able to sleep in like this; I have to stay up late, play video games, watch tv — it’s a struggle, and it’s real.
Do we still have poptarts?
"You don't have my genes, and you don't have your dad's, so that only leaves one conclusion: you're an alien child. We took pity on you, and adopted you from some foreign, lazy planet." She's tugging off his covers and all but pulling him out of his bed by his ankles. "You tell me, goofball. You and I are about to take a trip downstairs together."
"I don't even need to ask who put your sister's bras in the freezer. But, really. Today? Behave." She's a terrible authority figure sometimes, because there's the faintest hint of a grin on her face.
How I raised a son who knows how to sleep past noon is beyond me. Seriously, Jer, one day you're going to become one with your mattress.