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shewillreadyou · 3 years

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Me before You: Chapter 2- For Real

As always. I hope that you enjoy reading as much as I enjoyed writing.

A/N: This is a TRR AU. Liam is already married, but see’s Riley and wants his cake. If the readers are receptive this might turn into more than a mini series.

Disclaimers: Most characters are property of Pixelberry

Warnings: Language, adult content, mild sexual innuendo.

Word Count: 2458

Catch up: Haven’t met you Yet

Prompts: @theworldofprompts

“Name one thing you regret in life?”

“Well, for starters, I married you.” will appear in BOLD.

Pairings: Drake & Riley

Song inspiration: For Real- Amel Larrieux

Be Kind: Hit the heart button, leave a comment or reblog. It makes a writer so so happy.

“I now pronounce you man and wife. You may salute your bride.”

Savannah and her groom shared a modest kiss.

“It is my pleasure to present to you for the very first time the Duke and Duchess of Ramsford. Bertrand and Savannah Beaumont of Cordonia.”

“Cordonia?” Riley whispered to herself.

“So I’m not crazy. Drake said he is from Cordonia. The Liam look-alike could really be King Liam of Cordonia. The matron of honor could actually be Queen Carsyn. This is insane.”

Her thoughts raced as she tried to make connections.

“There will be a cocktail hour in the barn,” an older woman announced.

The barn was decorated in a rustic theme, Tim McGraw’s, “I like it, I love it” played in the background and there were servers with appetizers everywhere. Quickly, lines formed for the open bars. Mack held on to Riley’s arm as they waited.

“So let me get this straight? The guy you met in New York, was Drake? Drake Walker? Like Savannah’s brother Drake? No fucking way. The world is not that small.”

“Yeah, apparently it is, he is the man I saw at the airport, the guy from the bar, the guy I’ve been texting and now he’s here.”

“Sounds like fate.”

“I don’t know if I believe in fate. More like dumb luck.”

“Miss Riley?” a server interrupts their conversation.

“For you and your guest.”

He offers a whiskey sour and an old fashion, the signature drink to she and Mack.

“Compliments of Mr. Walker. My name is Caleb, I have been personally assigned to you for the duration of the evening. You don’t need to wait in lines. I can bring you whatever you need to eat or drink.”

“Wow, well thank you Caleb. That’s very thoughtful.”

She tries to tip Caleb and he refuses.

“No thank you Ma’am. Mr. Walker has already compensated me handsomely. Please let me know if there is anything else I can get for you.”

Later

The wedding party joins the guests in the barn before the bride and groom have their first dance. Riley watched from her assigned seat wondering who would end up seated next to her. The seat went empty for the first part of the afternoon.

“That was a beautiful ceremony. You know, I have seen pictures and heard tons of stories about Drake from Savannah, but he has really grown up. He is a hottie.”

“He’s ok.”

“Wow, just ok? Huh? I’m wounded.” he says in a raspy voice.

“Drake!”

Mack and Riley blush furiously.

“Raye. It’s good to see you again.”

“That’s one way of putting it,” she smirked.

“Sorry! Drake, this is Mackenzie, Mack this is Savannah’s brother Drake.”

“Don’t listen to her. She was definitely pleasantly surprised,” Mack said as she extended her hand for Drake to kiss.

Riley elbowed Mack and Drake laughed as he shook her hand.

“Good thing I get the honor of keeping you company tonight. My seat was moved next to yours.”

He smiled and Riley’s heart melted just a little bit more. He leaned over to hug her and she immediately flashed back to their dance on the rooftop.

After their first dance, all the guests were invited to the dance floor. “At Last” by Etta James started to play.

“May I have this dance? And please don’t tell me that your feet still hurt.”

She stood, unsure of what to do in the presence of royalty.

“Your Majesty, we have to stop meeting this way. Shouldn’t you be dancing with your Queen?”

Before he could answer, Drake slipped up behind Riley snaking his strong arm around her waist. Pulling her into his embrace.

“Beat it Li!”

“Miss me yet?”

“Perfect timing. Small world. You didn’t say that your Mom and sister lived so close to me.”

“I didn’t think it was pertinent information at the time,” he said as he led her in a slow dance. Riley watched Queen Carsyn over Drakes shoulder, as she shot daggers at King Liam.

“Is he always like that?”

“What?”

“Liam? Is he always so tactless?”

“I’m not at liberty to comment,” he chuckles.

“Question asked, question answered.”

“Enough about Liam. Have I mentioned how stunning you look?”

“No, but thanks for the compliment anyway.”

She smiled, getting lost in his eyes as they swayed to the music.

After sitting and watching Drake and Riley dance and flirt for hours Mack was about ready to go.

“Ri, I’m about ready to head out.”

“Riley reluctantly said her goodbyes to Drake, not knowing when she’d see him again.

After a short drive back to her place they arrived to see a red Jeep sitting idle in front of her door waiting. Riley looked at Mack and shrugged her shoulders. When she had said goodnight to her friend, she headed to the door. The window of the Jeep lowered, “Hey, could you tell me where to get something good to eat in this neighborhood?”

“Drake! What-- how did you know where I lived?”

“Guestbook.”

“Well, that isn’t creepy at all.”

“I’m hungry and thought you might be hungry too.”

“So, where to?”

“I don’t know, I have only been here a few weeks.”

“I know a place.”

Drake gets out of the truck and walks around waving at Mack, who is still watching from her car. He opens the door for Riley and grabs her by the waist helping her into the truck.

“Really? Such a gentleman.”

He smiles as he heads back around. Mack lowers her window and says, “I took a picture of your license plates just in case she doesn’t make it back.”

“Noted.”

“Thank you. So where are we going?”

“Whataburger. I can’t get that in Cordonia.”

“What the what?”

“You’ll love it, promise and it’s on me. Seat belt.”

“Let me ask you a question?”

“Just one?”

“God no, I have a million questions.”

“Ok, I will try my best to answer them.”

She thinks of what she wants to ask first.

“What did you honestly think when you saw me today?”

“That I am not this lucky.”

A blush crept across her face as she awkwardly shifted in the seat.

“Why do you live in Cordonia if your Mom and Sister are here?”

“Work is there. Besides, I have never had a good reason to come back.”

“I see.”

Her face betrayed her, she was feeling conflicted and defeated and it showed. They drove along the dark road quietly for a few minutes.

“So, uh, you must do important work in Cordonia for you to stay there instead of here with your family.”

“If you want to know what I do for a living Raye, just ask.”

“You told me not to and I respect your wishes.”

“Well, some would consider it important. My family won’t be here for long, Sav and my nephew are moving to Cordonia this week. I’m the lead for the King’s Guard.”

“You mean you protect Liam?”

“Yeah,” he says as he rubs the back of his neck.

Just then they pulled into the parking lot. The line in the drive thru was long so they headed inside. He held the door open for her and when they stood in front of the counter he stood directly behind her as they both looked up at the menu. He rubbed his hands up and down her arms when he noticed her shiver.

“Cold?”

“Yeah, a little. Also, overwhelmed with this menu. Order for me?”

A mischievous grin crept across his face as he placed his suit coat around her shoulders.

After an hour of probing conversation, many laughs, and eating a deliciously greasy burger, heavenly fries with as Drake called it “fancy fucking ketchup,” they headed back to her place.

“Drake, I’m not ready for tonight to end,” she confessed.

“I know the feeling.”

“Come upstairs with me?”

“Riley Elizabeth Raye! What kind of guy do you think I am?”

“The kind who steals people’s personal information out of wedding guest books.”

“Checkmate.”

“Besides, I have had these shoes on since this morning. My feet! Anyway, we can watch a movie and chat for a little while.”

“I have been told I give a mean foot massage.”

“Are you offering?”

He licks his lips and bites his lips. Her center twitched.

“Don’t do that.”

“Do what? Why are you looking at me like you want to climb in my lap?

Her cheeks flushed red.

“You wish.”

“Enough about that, let’s talk about our first real date.”

“Who said I wanted to date a guy with no real reason to come to Dallas?”

“Whoa, that was before.”

They headed up to her apartment. He stood so close to her in the elevator that she could feel his body heat. They had a staring contest that she lost. She definitely looked away first. It was like he was staring into her soul. The sexual tension was thick and she felt relieved when the elevator dinged and the doors slid open.

“Long distance dating is not exactly something I want to pursue.”

“Understandable. I’m here now. Let me take you out tomorrow.”

“What would that look like?”

“Dallas Jazz fest is tomorrow.”

“And you just happened to know that off the top of your head?”

“I might have done some research on my phone when I learned that a certain lady whom I’d like to impress was within my grasp.”

She chortled, “you like jazz?”

“No, but if I get to spend time with you it can’t be that bad.”

“You’d do that for me?”

They step inside her place and he makes a face.

“What is it?”

“Your place smells exactly like I expected, fruity.”

She invites Drake to sit as she kicks her shoes off. She moves around the counter and opens the fridge grabbing a couple bottles of water, a bottle of Glenmorangie, and a couple glasses.

“Raye, this is the good stuff. It’s really expensive. Sure you’re sharing?”

“Completely, pour me one too? Be right back,” she says as she headed into her bedroom to change and freshen up.

When she returned, Drake cleared his throat at the sight of her barely there clothing change.

They settled on the soft couch as Drake passed her the tumbler of whiskey he poured for her. She eyed the drink as he stared at her.

“What are you looking at?”

“Your umm, outfit? Comfy?”

“Yes. Very. Should I drink this? I didn’t see you pour it.”

“Good grief, switch with me.” Drake says before raising his glass.

“Cheers, to the best reason I ever had to come back to the States.”

She bit her lip trying to contain her smile.

“Well then, after a toast like that you get to pick the movie.”

She later regretted being so generous. Drake chose FACE OFF. They started off good, he pulled her aching feet into his lap and rubbed them until she was sure she would orgasm. She pulled away crossing her legs in a twisted attempt to save her panties.

She loved the movie but knew she couldn’t get through any of the scenes when they ran their hands down the others face to wordlessly say, I love you. So as much as she tried she sat with tears running down her face for much of the movie. The first time she cried Drake pretended to ignore it. She wiped her face on her. The next time she cried he looked at her with a raised eyebrow and the final time he pulled her into his arms and wiped her tears.

“You definitely get to pick a movie that won’t make you cry next time.”

“Next time? You really want to go out with me, huh?”

“I thought that was clear by now.”

“Drake, can I be honest?”

“I’d prefer it.”

“I have never dated a white guy before.”

He feigned shock. Then laughed.

“We have that in common because I haven't either. Is that all?”

“No, I didn’t expect to like you this much.”

“Have you dated a black woman before?”

“No.”

“Are you ready for family and friends to turn their backs on you? For strangers to shoot us dirty looks in public? For all of the things that come along with dating me?”

“I guess I never really thought about it. But I’d like to think that it would be a small price to pay to be with you.”

They chatted until they both fell asleep. The sunrise plucked him from his slumber. She had fallen asleep in his arms. He watched her for a few moments fighting the urge to kiss her. He untangled himself from her and used her restroom. When he returned, she was awake.

“I thought you finally came to your senses and left.”

“I don’t scare easily. I’m headed back to the ranch. I’ll pick you up around 6pm.”

She stood and they shared a long embrace as she secretly sniffed him trying to memorize his smell before she let him out.

Back at the ranch

“You stayed out all night. Did you get some trim?”

“No.”

Figures. You wouldn’t know what to do with all that ass anyway.

“And you do?” Carsyn interjects.

“Carsyn, I didn’t realize you were back from your morning run.”

“I knew that you wanted to fuck her. I saw the way you were looking at her at the wedding.”

Drake stands, “This seems like a personal conversation. Call me later Li.”

Liam shakes his head and turns to his wife.

“You are always making a big deal out of nothing. I have given you everything. You knew who I was before you married Me. You are the queen. Why are you so insecure?”

Tears filled her eyes.

“Name one thing you regret in life?” “Well, for starters, I married you.”

Liam stormed out of the room to find Drake in the hall on the phone with Riley. When Drake sees Liam he ends the call.

“Drake Walker. Your nose is open. I know you think you like her but, do you really want to start seeing a black woman? They can be a lot.”

“Don’t be an ass Li, any woman can be a lot. But it’s different with her. She is so chill. Like it’s easy with her.”

“If it’s so easy, why didn’t you close?”

“I said that it’s easy to be with her. Not that she was easy you, prick.”

“Just be careful Drake. You know what they say… Once you go black…”

“Li! For fucks sake.”

“I’m just saying. I’m going out tonight so if you need a trial run Carsyn will be here alone.”

“Did you just give me permission to fuck your wife?”

“Sure, everyone knows I’m not.”

“Hard pass.”

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jess-rewatches-prodigalson · 4 years

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Head Case (S2, E6)

My time-stamped thoughts for this episode. As always I reference Malcolm’s mental health. A lot. So if that’s going to be a trigger for you, don’t keep reading.

SPOILERS AHEAD:

0:03 - This clip of Malcolm in the car is from the pilot episode. I was so betrayed by this clip. Full disclosure - I’ve always had a thing for Malcolm’s jacket from the pilot episode. I just love it and I think Tom Payne looks cute in it. BUT - I was betrayed because Malcolm isn’t wearing my favourite jacket in the next scene (I was disappointed but not surprised). Rant about wardrobe over.

0:20 - This is weird to me. In the clip right before this, when Malcolm was coming to Claremont (wearing the awesome jacket) - Malcolm is clearly in emotional distress. He’s not in a good mood. BUT right here, when Malcolm is chatting with Mr. David he seems like he’s in a good mood. Not one of his manic good moods - just a regular good one.

0:32 - Anyone else notice how visibly uncomfortable Jessica AND Malcolm are? This whole Ainsley situation is literally going to destroy them both. :(

0:34 - sooooo Mr. David knows by now right? He has to? ALSO when the European FBI guy shows up in a few episodes this is going to be bad for Malcolm and Jessica right? The FBI guy will probs talk to Mr. David who will be like - oh yeah, they’ve had more ‘family meetings’ in the past 6 months than in the past 20 years.

1:22 - Sooooo this whole family honestly thinks Ainsley’s going to become a serial killer. From the tidbits of her childhood that we’ve seen, the way she treated Malcolm in Q&A, and generally how she acts when she wants to get a story - I’m not surprised. Read my thoughts on older episodes (1x7, 1x20, 2x5), I’ve always thought Ainsley was a sociopath or psychopath. The girl doesn’t show a lot of moral backbone or sympathy for anyone.

1:33 - Wait. Does this montage of Malcolm’s erratic behaviour mean that Malcolm killed someone as a kid? And doesn’t know it? Or is this just a reference to the whole ‘girl in the box’ trauma arc from last season?

1:44 - “I wish I didn’t know that you were a killer.” Anyone else get major flashbacks to the movie Santa Clause 3: The Escape Clause? “I wish I had never become Santa at all” then we get an AU for 40 mins? Just me? Cool - excuse my bad taste in Christmas movies.

1:50 - hahaha Martin is so bitter.

2:25 - You know, as much as I love to hate Martin - he has a point. Malcolm loved his Dad (still does whether he wants to admit it or not) in 98′ - why is Malcolm chill with Ainsley killing but not Martin? Is it because with Martin, he found a poor girl tortured in a box but with Ainsley he saw her kill a man that was threatening their family? Or was it because Martin tried to kill Malcolm but Ainsley hasn’t (yet?) **honestly - that would be such an interesting episode - if Ainsley tries to kill Malcolm**

2:33 - THANK YOU. Someone finally thanks Malcolm for trying to protect Ainsley (and in extension Jessica) from the emotional trauma he’s been dealing with since the age of 10. EVEN THOUGH PROTECTING THEM IS MAKING HIS MENTAL STATE WORSE. Seriously - Malcolm is going to snap soon I honestly won’t be surprised if we get some suicidal ideation from him this season (especially if things don’t improve). Look at those big sad puppy dog eyes when Jess thanks him.

2:38 - hahahaha that side-eyed glare directed at Martin.

2:53 - I know Jessica had good intentions here - she’s trying to protect both of her children but honestly, this whole interaction was probably super upsetting for Malcolm. Think about it - BOTH of his parents haven’t tried to have a serious discussion with him at the same time since he was at 10 years old or younger. This interaction is probably bringing up some memories for Malcolm and making him grieve for the childhood he lost all over again.

3:06 - “You’re gross.” followed by a very regal wave at Mr. David. YES. Queen Jessica. <3

3:25 - Malcolm startling JT is pretty freaking cute. Look at how JT’s expression immediately changes from startled to concerned. I don’t blame him. Malcolm gives off major manic energy in this scene. The visit with the parents did not leave him in a good place. Also - Malcolm straight up admitted that he’s had a ‘rough morning’ this boy almost never tells the truth when he’s struggling. He’s fine. He’s always fine.

3:30 - “Rough month.” IS THIS IT? IS THIS ALL I’M GOING TO GET? JT had a baby THREE EPISODES AGO. ‘rough month’ is a reference to the fact that he’s a new dad and he’s struggling with lack of sleep, leaving Tally alone with the baby while he’s a work, being a good husband, adjusting to dad life, ect. RIGHT?!? We’ve literally had no mention of the baby since 2x3 and I’m losing my mind. I just want someone to say, “Hey JT, how’s the baby?” that’s it. I want 5 seconds of dialogue. Just an acknowledgment that the child exists.

3:54 - “Sooo bring me up to speed.” OMG. That smile is both extremely manic and completely adorable. Seriously - why is no one on the team more concerned about Malcolm during this episode? AND WHERE THE EFF IS EDRISA IN THIS SCENE?!? We’ve been robbed.

4:21 - “What? I liked math class.” OMG. JT is a closet math nerd. You can’t take this headcanon away from me.

4:24 - hahahaha look at Malcolm absorbing the new information about JT. He’s like.....yes. I will keep that information for later. Very good. Will pry further.

5:04 - I love Dani. She’s perfect. She can see that Malcolm just checked out into his own horror of a memory. So she gently teases him to bring him back to reality. <3 This is true friendship. <3

6:00 - Was I the only one who thought it was weird that Gil asked Malcolm to help with the canvasing? Like - doesn’t Malcolm always help? Isn’t that part of what he does to build his profile?

6:12 - “KGB agent” Yes. Malcolm is still annoyed that Ainsley was so competitive about a literal murder last episode. I promise you. Ainsley’s probably still annoyed too.

6:26 - This is why Malcolm is considering telling Ainsley the truth. He’s already losing her. May as well rip off the band-aid. She might not react as badly finding out from him as she would finding out by herself.

6:51 - “That is my vagina.” hahahahaha OMG. As a woman I must say: HOW?!?! As someone who adores JT: hahahahahahahaha OMG.

7:23 - “You’re getting a lot of mileage out of that tidbit”. lol. JT gently teasing Malcolm is one of my favourite things. Hands down. Especially since they’ve reached a point in their friendship where Malcolm doesn’t seem scared or offended when JT makes fun of him. They’re acting like brothers and I LOVE IT. <3

7:25 - “That’s the tip of the iceberg my man.” I have no idea why I am so amused by someone calling Malcolm “my man” but I am.

7:36 - “The Bowery Ripper” hahaha the look that JT and Dani exchange when Malcolm starts nerding out.

8:00 - Wendell is kind of creepy. But like a weird, non-threatening creepy?

8:22 - OMG. JT let the vagina sculpture go. hahaha Look at how grossed out Dani is hahahaha she’s like, “Ugh. Men are gross.”

8:30 - This is why I love JT. He knows that that elevator is sketchy as hell. Plus it’s some (less than subtle) foreshadowing for what’s to come in this episode.

8:41 - How did Dani find out he was at Claremont?! Does Mr. David call Gil every time Malcolm visits?!? ......this is my new headcanon. You will have to pry it from my cold dead hands.

9:00 - This is a really cute moment between Dani and Malcolm. Regardless of whether or not you ship Brightwell - it’s really sweet to see Malcolm interacting so honestly with someone. He’s telling Dani the truth about something and she’s not making him feel bad about how messed up his family is or how weird his situation is. She just listens and teases him to make him smile. That is a good friend. IDC how you feel about Brightwell - right now - this is a GOOD FRIEND moment and Malcolm deserves more of them.

9:10 - Annnnnnndddd this is why Brightwell shouldn’t happen (right now). Dani is still hurt that Malcolm doesn’t trust her enough to tell her everything. She still doesn’t completely trust him after what happened last season. A romantic relationship without 100% trust will fail. End of story. They’re great friends but right now they can’t be in a romantic relationship. It’ll end poorly. (Damn, I hope Brightwell is endgame though).

9:38 - hahaha Greta Swan is a perfect comedic relief for the Dani/Malcolm tension we just witnessed. This girl is a little nuts and a lot funny.

10:00 - “Dad’s lived here his whole life” - wow. The writers really left us some big bread crumbs. We go from the scene where someone mentions a serial killer who killed someone (who was abducted from this hotel) in 1963. THEN we find a strange, gossipy woman and her grumpy father who has lived there his whole life. Coincidence? Nah.

10:17 - SERIOUSLY?!? The Whitly home is ENORMOUS. WHY IS JESSICA LETTING AINSLEY WORK IN THE MURDER BASEMENT?!?!?! We literally just found out that Jessica has a SOLARIUM somewhere in this house.

10:40 - “The guy definitely seems like he kills people.” Oh the irony here.

10:55 - “Are you upset with me?” This is soft and I love it. Malcolm is being vulnerable with his little sister and it warms my heart.

11:07 - “Insomnia sucks.” “Who knew?” Again. Irony.

11:18 - “Anything you want to talk about?” This is precious. Malcolm loves Ainsley SO FREAKING MUCH. He has major Dad/Big brother/concerned school counsellor energy here and I’m here for it.

11:38 - Malcolm’s soooo going to replay this conversation in his head about a million times. He’s going to blame himself for Ainsley’s murder victim of this episode. He’s going to play the “what-if” game. What if - he told her the truth here? Would she still have killed someone tonight?

11:52 - Look at Ainsley’s face here. She seems sort of confused and comforted? Like maybe the fractions of memories that she’s admitting to having are making her believe that she killed Endicott and it scares her. Malcolm telling her otherwise is probably comforting on some level. It’s helping her convince herself that she’s done nothing wrong.

12:25 - According to IMDB - this isn’t the episode LDP directed SO WHY IS THERE SO LITTLE GIL CONTENT IN THIS EPISODE?!?!?!

12:27 - What the hell is the puddle on the floor btw? Is it paint? Tar? Blood? I thought construction hadn’t started on the hotel yet?

14:14 - Malcolm. You. Are. A. Moron. Why go towards the creepy elevator that opened by itself? Why did you think that was a good idea?

14:29 - The Bowery Ripper is pretty strong for an old guy. I mean, Malcolm isn’t that big and he was caught off guard but still.

14:38 - I wanted this scene to be reality SO SO BADLY. I don’t even care about the Brightwell interaction in this scene. Malcolm is on a hospital bed. With an ice pack. I could’ve watched 45 minutes of “Malcolm in the hospital” content. The fact that this boy didn’t spend longer than a 30 second scene in the hospital is a CRIME. Why does Fedak hate giving us the whump aftercare?!? WHY?!?! Doesn’t he know like half the fandom LIVES FOR IT?!?

14:40 - You know how I knew this was the start of Malcolm’s AU dream? 2 reasons: 1) Dani has her hand on the ice pack on Malcolm’s head, even though he totally doesn’t need her help to hold the ice pack to his head. 2) GIL ISN”T HERE. .....although this episode did us dirty with the lack of Gil content (I miss Papa!Gil so much)

14:46 - There’s something about dream JT. I can’t quite put my finger on it. Real and dream JT are almost identical. But dream JT seems to be more open with Malcolm? IDK - he’s more relaxed around Malcolm? I can’t quite describe it. Did anyone else notice that there was just something a little bit different about dream JT? Not even in a bad way. Just different.

15:15 - “Noooo she said it could’ve been worse. Not the same.” hahaha YES DANI. Good looking out. Call out this boy for neglecting his health.

15:24 - This whole scene where Dani and Malcolm do a joint interrogation was awesome. They were talking pretty fast which I found a little distracting but JT said it best, “They were on FIRE”. One thing I REALLY liked about the scene was the dynamic between Dani and Malcolm. Neither one of them was really taking a lead in the interrogation. They were equal partners and I think that says a lot about Malcolm’s romantic desires. He doesn’t want to dominate anyone. He doesn’t want to be taken advantage of. He just wants someone he can trust and respect. Someone who will trust and respect him. He wants a partner. An equal partner. I think that’s a really healthy desire for anyone in search of a relationship.

16:12 - an affair? Did we know that Lyle and/or Katrina were married?!? If they weren’t married it would just be a relationship. Not an affair.

17:01 - Is this honestly the first time Dani has called Malcolm by his first name? In 26 episodes? It must be right? Because I swear I was so shocked my heart skipped a beat (also my Brightwell heart melted but that’s a whole different thing).

17:06 - .....so in Malcolm’s dream does he still work for Major Crimes? Is JT running the department? I need some more details here.

17:12 - Soft!JT <3 <3 <3 How cute is it that in Malcolm’s AU dream, JT (and Dani) don’t actually change (in terms of personality). Their roles in his life just intensify. Dani becomes his significant other and JT becomes a much closer friend/brother. It’s precious. <3 <3 <3

17:52 - Something about the fact that Jessica isn’t drinking liquor in the AU is hilarious and depressing to me. It’s funny because, well, it just tickles me. It’s depressing because Malcolm understands that Jessica drinks to dull the pain. In this AU, she isn’t in pain. She’s happy. Therefore, she doesn’t need alcohol. I don’t know about you but the fact that Malcolm’s subconscious wanted his mom to be happy so badly that she became (more or less) sober - is heartbreaking and heartwarming all at the same time.

18:11 - “No one in this family is scared of a little blood right?” The irony here is THICK.

19:23 - The fact that Ainsley is a doctor just like Martin in Malcolm’s AU is terrifying and hilarious. This whole “I watched Ainsley kill a man” thing is really destabilizing Malcolm’s questionable mental health.

19:27 - “Please Ainsley is the talented one. I’m a distance second.” ....does this mean that Endicott isn’t the first person Ainsley has killed? Does this mean subconsciously Malcolm somehow thinks that Ainsley is a better serial killer than Martin?

19:56 - “No phones at dinner okay?” Something about the way Martin is looking at Malcolm at this moment and Martin’s tone of voice made me think - “Shit. Martin’s still a serial killer in Malcolm’s AU.” Especially since they Ainsley literally just announced to the room that he’s getting a from Claremont.

20:06 - Yep. That’s a nightmare. From the back, Claremont!Gil probably looked like Martin circa mid-2010s for Malcolm.

20:09 - Look idc who you ship on this show. But I will fight you if you don’t think that Malcolm being comforted after a nightmare by someone he loves is the sweetest thing ever. Look at how Dani gently rubs his arm and back. Ugh. This is the kind of safety Malcolm DESERVES.

20:43 - Dani lying on Malcolm’s chest. <3 It just makes me so happy. Not even necessarily because it’s Dani (although I do ship Brightwell as end game) but because Malcolm’s subconscious is showing us his ideal relationship and we don’t see anything wild or questionable - we just see G-rated cuddling. And damn if that doesn’t say a lot about how much Malcolm just wants to be loved.

20:53 - .......Can we have a full episode’s worth of footage where Malcolm is unconscious on the floor? I know I’m a basket case but it would make my whump heart so happy.....even happier if that footage was immediately followed by 40 mins of hospital care/comfort footage.

20:59 - I know that time has sort of slowed down for the purpose of plot in this episode but ngl - every time we saw the elevator approaching passed out Malcolm all I could think was “this is the slowest elevator in the world.”

21:26 - Malcolm is so so relaxed and comfortable in this scene. I want him to be this happy forever.

22:07 - “You deserve all of it.” Malcolm subconsciously just wants permission to be happy. He doesn’t think he deserves to be happy (especially after Endicott). That little revelation broke my heart. Also the Brightwell kiss was adorable. Dani takes control because, Malcolm wants to feel wanted and this is how his subconscious is manifesting that desire. I will argue that Malcolm doesn’t necessarily want a relationship where his partner takes charge or dominates him. He made coffee of both of them. They’re living in his apartment. They’re having calm, mature, adult conversations. They are both equal partners in his dream relationship.

22:45 - Dani isn’t scared of Malcolm when his hand starts shaking. She isn’t judging him. She’s just concerned. <3

22:47 - “Existential ennui”? Soooo much french in this episode. Damn. “Jamais vu”, “Quelle suprise”. Now “ennui”.

23:35 - “I don’t fit your profile.” ....am I expected to believe that Malcolm didn’t realize this was a dream until this moment? Dani calling him “Malcolm Whitly” in the last scene wasn’t a red flag? Or the fact that Ainsley is a doctor. Or that Martin isn’t in Claremont? Or that Jessica isn’t drinking booze by the bucket? I mean, I know he has a head injury but these are big red flags.

24:15 - Sooooo is Wendell dead irl? Because this is technically a dream.

25:02 - “I thought we were looking for an inexperienced psychopath. A first time killer.”......this is him projecting about Ainsley right? Am I overthinking this? And now he says, “I was wrong”. Is that supposed to suggest that Malcolm thinks Ainsley has killed someone before Endicott?

25:07 - “The blows are confident. They were having fun.”.....couldn’t the same be said about how Ainsley stabbed Endicott? They were definitely confident stabs (plus a confident throat slitting).

25:14 - “We’re looking for a serial killer.” Istg the writers are hinting that Ainsley is a serial killer (or will become one soon).

25:27 - Mr. David appears in the AU but Edrisa doesn’t. We were ROBBED.

26:07 - I’m not the only one who thinks that beard makes Gil look like a werewolf right?

26:33 - Claremont!Gil is creepy. LDP’s performance here is really really good. Also - I hate it. Because serial killer Gil is just not my Gil and it upsets me to see Gil chained to a wall.

26:56 - Sooooo in the AU “The Surgeon” is still at large right? ....you’d think Malcolm would be trying to solve that case with Dani and JT. You know, an active prolific serial killer in New York?

27:34 - The way that Martin, Gil, and Malcolm interact in this scene is really interesting to me. In a lot of ways, this isn’t an AU. Think about it.

In the dream: Gil is frantically trying to convince Malcolm that Martin is a serial killer. In a way, Gil is trying to protect Malcolm from Martin.

In reality: Gil just shoots Malcolm disapproving looks when he mentions seeing Martin. Gil desperately tries to protect Malcolm from Martin.

In the dream: Martin is trying to convince Malcolm that Gil is a monster. He’s trying to convince Malcolm that he’s a Good father. That he would never hurt Malcolm. That he loves Malcolm.

In reality - Martin is the same.

The only main difference between AU!Martin, AU!Gil, and their real counterparts is their temperaments. AU!Martin has Gil’s calm, comforting, and rational temperament while AU!Gil has Martin’s angry, manic, and controlling temperament.

What is the same between the AU characters and their real counterparts?

Martin is still a manipulative killer.

Gil still shoots Malcolm looks of concern (27:45).

Gil and Martin still hate each other.

28:30 - Even dream Martin tries to gaslight Malcolm.

28:56 - “You can always count on Dad.” ....is this how Malcolm really feels about Martin subconsciously? It kind of makes sense? Who did Malcolm turn to when Ainsley did the unthinkable? Not Gil or Jessica. Malcolm said it in 1x12 - (I’m paraphrasing) “The child in me thought he cared. Loved me even.” I think there’s still a part of Malcolm that believes that. Or at least a part of Malcolm that desperately wants to believe that.

29:17 - “I’ve never been to a crime scene before.” That’s because you create the crime scene, Martin. In all versions of reality.

29:20 - annnnnnd AU Martin shares regular Martin’s weird fascination with Dani.

31:00 - JT being buddy-buddy with Martin is hands down the most horrifying part of the AU.

31:10 - “I think he’s having a psychotic break.” ......I want this to be foreshadowing so so so badly. I think it would be so interesting to see how the team, Jessica, Ainsley, and even Martin deal with Malcolm just having a total breakdown. Maybe not a full psychotic break. Maybe a nervous breakdown? Or he succumbs to his suicidal ideation? Probably a little too dark for network TV though.

31:34 - “I’m very protective of her and her boots.” Does Malcolm see himself as the Bowery Ripper, trying to protect Ainsley as opposed to his daughter? Or is the Bowery Ripper supposed to be a metaphor for Martin protecting Ainsley? Is Malcolm going to take the fall for Ainsley and all her murders?!?

32:45 - “Why did you kill again? After all these years.” istg this is hinting that Ainsley killed someone as a kid and Martin knows about it.

33:00 - “I can’t let my daughter know what I was.” .....is the Bowery Ripper supposed to be Ainsley? Is Ainsley killing people to try and protect Malcolm? Ugh. I’m totally overthinking this.

33:02 - Even in his dream, Malcolm can’t bring himself to kill his father. Wether that is by cutting off contact with Martin irl or letting the Bowery Ripper kill him in the AU.

33:07 - Actually though - why doesn’t Malcolm carry a gun IRL? We know he’s trained to use one. We saw him use one in the pilot on a case for the FBI. Is there some sort of NYPD rule about consultants carrying weapons? Is it a rule that Gil has imposed on Malcolm? Is it a rule that Malcolm has imposed on himself? A mixture? I want to know.

33:38 - OMG. Is Malcolm going to try and kill Ainsley?!?! What a twist that would be. AU Malcolm just killed a killer. He doesn’t seem to feel bad about it and he agrees with Martin that “everything is okay now”.

33:55 - This hug deeply moved me. Malcolm is fully aware that this hug isn’t real but he looks so content to be hugged by his father. Malcolm is finally getting a proper hug. <3 It honestly makes me wonder what Malcolm would do IRL for his father’s approval though. He’s clearly sooo desperate for Martin to love him. Who knows what Martin will be able to convince Malcolm to do in this season? Malcolm’s not all that mentally stable right now and he’s really vulnerable emotionally. I’m worried.

34:26 - “Not that it’s a competition.” ....yep. Ainsley wants to be better than Malcolm even in Malcolm’s own subconscious.

35:00 - Heart. Breaking. Watching Ainsley, Martin, and Jessica tell Malcolm how good they think Dani is for him breaks my heart. Look at how happy Malcolm looks. Look at how desperately Malcolm wants this to be real. Ugh. My heart is shattered.

35:20 - “You’re the best, big brother.” Even Malcolm’s subconsious knows that he’s an excellent big brother. Seriously, I love my younger brother but I don’t think I could ever cover up a murder for him. Never mind dispose of the body. Maybe I would? IDK the situation has never come up (thankfully).

35:25 - .....aaannnnnndd we’re back to the Girl in the Box.

35:58 - “Why would you ever want to leave?” “Because it’s all a lie.” Isn’t Malcolm living a lie IRL too? He’s pretending that Ainsley is a law-abiding citizen. He’s pretending that he isn’t an accomplice in a murder. He’s living in constant fear because of his secrets. They’re going to destroy him. This is why I think a suicide attempt is a possibility for this season. This trauma is a lot bigger (in some ways) than last season’s. Plus - Malcolm has a lot of pre-existing trauma. This could be the metaphoric straw that breaks the camel’s back.

36:45 - “Even in my wildest dream. I’m still a detective. I need to seek the truth. No matter how painful.” That’s it. That’s Malcolm’s character in a nutshell. “Traumatized boy who intentionally puts himself through more trauma for the sake of seeking the truth.”

37:01 - “You’re right. I need to work on that.”.......if Malcolm tells Gil and/or the team about Ainsley next episode I will lose my mind.

37:15 - TOM PAYNE. YOU ABSOLUTE TREASURE. THIS IS SUCH A GREAT PERFORMANCE. THOSE UNSHED TEARS. THAT DESPERATE ANGER. THAT HOPELESSNESS AND DESPAIR. <3 <3 <3 <3

38:21 - Look, I’m a mechanical engineering student (not an expert) but if that was a wooden stick like I think it is - that would’ve NEVER stopped an elevator (at least, not long enough for Malcolm to escape). But I’ll overlook it for whump. Because Malcolm has a head wound and I’m loving it.

38:33 - I’ve rewatched this clip of Malcolm with a bloody face meeting JT and Dani about 50 times (wish I was exaggerating that number). There is something so gorgeous about this scene. I mean - the fact that Malcolm is clearly in physical and emotional pain is enough to make my whump heart sing but it’s more than that. Listen to the genuine concern in JT’s voice when he says, “You okay?”. Look at Dani’s concerned face. Listen to how soft and desperate Malcolm’s voice is when he says, “When was the last time I talked to you?” Look at how concerned and confused JT and Dani are when Malcolm says, “I know who the killer is.” They’re not scared of Malcolm. They’re scared for Malcolm. Malcolm just showed up covered in blood, he can’t walk straight, he’s clearly confused, and now he’s claiming that he’s solved the case. They’re worried about him and they have every right to be. Listen to how broken Malcolm sounds when he says, “Long story.” <3 <3 <3 I’m in love with this scene.

39:19 - “Are you sure about this?” “I have no idea.” This. Is. Important. JT and Dani have every reason to believe that this old man isn’t a killer but Malcolm’s head injury is making him confused. BUT they choose to trust Malcolm (or at the very least, humour him). They trust him enough to take a risk on him and I think that’s beautiful. I think that’s exactly what Malcolm needed after his nightmare of an AU dream. He needed to know that they care about him IRL. I hope he notices their behaviour despite the head injury.

39:35 - Malcolm puts the skull down with his ungloved hand. I’m blaming the head injury.

39:55 - Look this was a really moving scene. The parallel of Malcolm arresting a serial killer in front of the serial killer’s child and Martin being arrested in front of Malcolm is haunting. HOWEVER, when that old man stood up from the wheelchair my stupid brain went “THAT ASSHOLE NEVER EVEN NEEDED THE WHEELCHAIR?!?”.....even though he literally wasn’t in a wheelchair in Malcolm’s dream.

40:40 - WE WERE ROBBED. I want to see the scene where Malcolm explains his dream to the team. I want to see GIL. WHERE THE EFF IS GIL IN THIS EPISODE?!?! FURTHERMORE - I WANT THE IRL VERSION OF “MALCOLM GOES TO THE HOSPITAL FOR A HEAD INJURY” SCENE. WTF FEDAK. GIVE ME THE AFTERCARE.

40:47 - “That man will be buried in a turtleneck.” hahahahahaha OMG. Iconic.

41:27 - “Goodnight Malcolm.” <3 <3 <3 She called him Malcolm IRL. Excuse me while I go and stoke my slow burn Brightwell fire.

41:36 - “Goodnight.” This is the face of a man who just accepted the fact that he will never be happy. Malcolm honestly doesn’t think he deserves to be in a relationship. Especially with someone as beautiful, kind, and talented as Dani.

41:40 - THAT HAT. Was this really in Season 1?!?! I don’t remember it? But holy hell - I want to see Malcolm wear it. Like now. It’s going to make me laugh. I can feel it.

41:53 - Immediately you can hear that something is wrong in Ainsley’s voice. She sounds distracted, dissociated, and scared.

42:14 - Give. Tom. Payne. An. Emmy. Listen to his voice breaking here. He’s so close to tears and it’s genuinely beautiful. Such an astounding performance.

42:51 - I honestly think Ainsley is shaking her head because she realizes that she made a mistake. She came to Malcolm because she thought he killed Endicott. She thought that he’d be able to understand. That he’d be able to help her because he had committed the same crime she just committed. She was wrong. He can help her - but legally, he really shouldn’t.

43:08 - Look. A new scene for Malcolm’s night terrors.

43:15 - Yep. This is going to drive Malcolm into a mental breakdown. This is bad.

43:20 - There’s a part of me that wants Malcolm to tattle on Ainsley. Just so he doesn’t have to keep the secret any longer. The secret is killing him. Telling won’t make the situation any better though. Gil and the team will react horribly and it’ll make Malcolm feel like garbage. Plus I can only imagine how the press would scrutinize the Whitly’s again. It won’t be good any way you slice it.

I have a love/hate relationship with this episode. On one hand - it’s the cannon AU episode that every fanfiction lover dreams of. It’s also a really compelling episode complete with some excellent acting and great insight into Malcolm’s psyche. HOWEVER: 1) not enough Gil, 2) WHERE IS MY WHUMP AFTERCARE?, and 3) I wanted to see Malcolm at the base of that elevator for longer. The whump wasn’t prolonged enough for my sick soul.

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elucere · 3 years

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Sad Late August Quarantine Thoughts 2.0

Last year, I wrote this. Basically my thoughts on how I felt in my life up to that point and what quarantine had illuminated. It felt cathartic then, so hopefully it’ll feel cathartic now. A part of that probably had to do with the fact that the last part was complete bullshit, but we’ll get into that later.

At nearly the slightest inconvenience now, I’ll say “I’m at my limit”. Technically, that isn’t really true because if I was really at my limit, at the next inconvenience I would completely lose it. But no, I’m just simply reminding myself that while I’m constantly met with a series of unfortunate events, I haven’t broken down yet. I might feel like I’m there, but I’m not. I’m just at my limit. Things are bad, but they aren’t the worst they could be yet. So keep in mind, I am very much at my limit as I’m writing this.

Last year I talked about my struggles with my job. Yeah, I got fired in February. It was not pretty either. I knew I wasn’t doing well performance wise, and they invited me into a zoom call that they said was a project meeting a week before my year anniversary and fired me. My supervisor (or I guess, ex-supervisor) cried on call. I didn’t cry until afterwards. It was an entire year of me trying to get better, him promising that it’ll come with time, and then getting sacked because “we didn’t see improvements”. Really, really fucking sucked. And it messed with me for a long time because I kept replaying those last few weeks, trying to decipher what I could’ve done differently to prove my worth and keep my position. There was a lot. I felt really guilty.

I think the worst part is that I got a performance warning in December and realized at that point I’d become so apathetic about my job that I needed professional help. I’d been trying to go to therapy for a long time, but it never panned out. My mom forbade it when I was in high school, it was practically impossible to get an appointment at my college’s mental health facility unless you were considered a threat to yourself and others (which I most certainly did not want on my record), and after school life happened so fast with the pandemic and the fact that I live in a 2 bedroom apartment with my mom and my brother with very little privacy. Even now that I’ve convinced my mom that therapy is okay, actually, she still highly disproves and sees it as some sort of psychological failing on my part. Which is. Sure. Whatever. Why not.The reason I did not enroll in therapy that December is actually because my dad lost his job and with it, his health insurance, and with that, my health insurance. That means I had to enroll in a health plan through my employment, which became an unanticipatedly long process. I actually got my new-but-useless health insurance card in the mail a few days after I got fired. They actually fired me on the last day of the month, so my benefits wouldn’t extend beyond that month. That’s a bit of fun irony.

To quite a few of my friends, this story solidified the idea that insurance=therapy. As soon as I got insurance again, I’d be able to finally get some help. This was a couple of people’s first response to me when I got hired again (yay, I know I don’t have to worry about that anymore but I’m also afraid that I’ll just inevitably be fired again so I don’t let myself have the victory). I know my friends only want the best for me, and I can’t expect them be able to emotionally support me like a professional, but I’m afraid that they think that therapy will be some sort of magical fix of sorts. I don’t mean in the sense of just getting better mentally, but I think being a tolerable person. I know that sounds like I’m just being self-depreciating, but let me explain.

A few years ago I was at dinner with one of my friends. I don’t remember exactly what we were talking about, but she goes “name three things you actually like” because I was probably being negative or something. I said a few things and whatever, but that comment stuck with me for a long time. I thought it was especially poignant or something. Am I so unhappy all the time because I fixate on things I don’t like? It could be connected to the attitude of social media to be outwardly negative. Casual wisdom, you know.

Well, that was the fact until I was out with that same friend and we visited Barnes and Noble. I’ve been doing quite a bit of reading this year and got more involved in the book community, so I have many Opinions. Some are good, some are bad, some are just me being annoying. After an hour of browsing the shelves, we drive home. I start talking about a series I really like in the car and she goes “It’s nice to hear you talk about a book you actually like.” Which kind of stunned me because I had just did a lot of talking about books I liked. How happy I was that kids were still reading Rangers Apprentice, going out of my way to see how many Brandon Sanderson books I could find in the Adult Fantasy section, and more reminiscing in the Young Adult section about books I liked recently or as a teen. The truth is, I talk about stuff I like all the time to people who will listen. Ask me about my favorite books! My favorite movies! My favorite musicals! I promise I will not shut up. It’s one of the few things I have that lift my spirits when I talk about it, I just don’t get the opportunity to much because it’s hard to find people who want to listen.

The thing is, I’m naturally a critical person, I think. I love tearing things apart, in good and bad ways. I also love gossip. I’m an okay gossip, but I know at this point that I’m a good critic. I’m really good at identifying faults and commenting them on an insightful or constructive way. I edit a lot of my friends’ writings for this reason. I don’t find that to be anything negative, it’s just something that’s interesting to me. Basically what I’m saying is, what if it’s not mental illness and I’m just annoying and I’ll not be able to meet the expectations of other people’s idea of progress for me and I’ll be a disappointment. I’m kind of tearing up while typing that out while listening bopping to Disturbia by Rihanna but this is the third time I’ve been on the verge of crying today so yaknow maybe it is just mental illness.At this point, I can either talk about criticism in relation to the particular way I dish it, or I could talk about how I want to receive it. I think the former will take less time to elaborate, so I’ll start with that.

I mention last year how I got an unpaid gig as a critic for DiscussingFilm. Embarrassing at times, I joke with my friends that “DiscussingFilm Writer” is a slur, but it’s cool at times as well. I got a press pass to go to Sundance and gorged on an entire family sized bag of peanut M&Ms while I watched like 14 movies in one weekend. I’m trying to say positive things about this until I start ragging to prove that I’m not an overwhelmingly negative person, but I don’t think that’s working well. Whatever. The point is, if I didn’t like it I would quit, but if I did quit it wouldn’t be because I didn’t like it. It would because there was an…event. I had quite a falling out with one of the higher-ups that run the site and in response my work has taken a hit. I won’t go into too much detail, but I don’t get assigned anticipated releases anymore. My work is often delayed going out and, in turn, I feel less motivated to turn in my work on time. And then on top of that, it’s rarely promoted. I have examples on top of examples, but this stupid thing is getting long enough. To summarize the DiscussingFilm situation, I feel like shit. I have one of the lowest view counts on the site. I’m told that my work is good and it’s valued, but not enough to get reposted, I guess! Why bother. And also because the person I do not work well with is quite up in the food chain, I’ll never see a promotion. I wanted to become an editor so bad (I do editing on the side for my friends and enjoy it), but now it will never ever happen. I don’t have the opportunity to prove myself, it’s just completely off the table by nature of leadership. Ass. Complete ass. I’m doing quite a bit of work for DiscussingFilm including creating the standard for the Instagram, making graphics for the Instagram, performing interviews and writing reviews for the site, and co-hosting a DiscussingFilm branded podcast, and I will never see neither a dime for my work or recognition in any meaningful or significant way. I don’t have a say in anything, and I feel like an insignificant cog whose opinion does not mean much.

I still get insecure with my reviews, but not as much anyways. Sure, I can’t compare to the great writers at trades who do this for a living and have been doing so for years. But, I am better than a lot of writers at my level. Sometimes I try pitching to other publications, but so far I’ve only been met with rejection. It kinda stings to know that my work is not worth enough to be paid for, but I’m kinda over it. I still pitch. I try my best. That’s the thing about me, I just keep going. Rejection hurts like a bitch, but whatever. I don’t want to quit just yet, so I guess I won’t. There isn’t anyone in my corner who’s actively spurring me to keep going, I’ve just decided that I’ll get paid for my work one day and so now I will.This connects with the criticism I want to receive which unfortunately very much is not of the nonfiction variety. Ew I fucking hate talking about this but I need to get it off my chest.

After I got fired, I was slipping into quite a bit of a depression. I started a podcast at this time with my friend to try and prevent that, but I knew that I probably needed another project. I wasn’t watching movies anymore, DiscussingFilm was not publishing my shit, and all I was doing all day was reading (which I don’t anymore, I’m in a slump and it’s definitely connected to the idea I have in the next sentence). So I had the brilliant idea of “hey, I could do that. I could write a book. I should do it to do it.”You see, this has not been my only attempt at writing a proper book. I tried when I was 13, I tried when I was 15 and into online literate roleplay, I tried when I was 18 by doing NaNoWriMo in college (also, I was actually more depressed then). I also tried to get into a short story class in college that you had to submit a story to get into and didn’t even make it on the waitlist. Nothing stuck. But hey, I was unemployed and I came up with a funny premise that I wasn’t too attached to, so why not?

The book is not funny. It was supposed to, but it’s changed a lot. I’m very comfortable writing in camp. It’s difficult because I know sometimes I have my moments, but often I don’t. I also chose to write it in a genre I’m not super familiar with (Young Adult contemporary, I read Young Adult and Adult fiction primarily). I didn’t expect it to be easy, but the things I thought would come easily did not come easily. I have a lot of male friends, so I could certainly write the male characters as real people, right? Right? I’m funny, so the humor would come across well, right? Did I anticipate that after years of pretty much only analyzing films critically I’d subconsciously structure my story using dialogue-driven storytelling similar to a screenplay? No! Not at all, actually! This journey of self-discovery has been ass at every corner!

I recognize that first drafts are shit and authors hate their writing, but also I’m built different, your honor. By 15k words in, I realized I needed an outside perspective. I hated my own writing and I was afraid none of the characters were coming off right. I needed feedback, and I still do. But I hate being perceived. As long as no one reads my writing, they think that I know what I’m talking about and value my opinion on their writing, but once they figure out I’m just an Imposter then it’s game over. They’ll lose respect for me. Logically, I know this isn’t how this works, but I feel physically nauseous whenever someone reads my writing.

Anyways, back to my much-needed criticism. To make a long story short involving several English teacher that caused me to quit pursuing writing altogether in my formative years and decide to switch to a STEM track, I have very little tangible self-awareness of my own writing and how to improve it. I need the outside feedback, or at least I did. I’m 60k words into my first draft now and I’m cripplingly self aware of all my errors, but it feels too little too late. 60k words are a lot of words, and it feels not great knowing that most of them are trash. I really needed this kind of feedback earlier in the process so I could make tweaks early on. I know that writing is like a muscle and you need to work it out and practice to get stronger, but fuck man, FUCK. 60k words is a LOT of words. And I still need people to read it and give me feedback and I’m literally willingly asking people to read shit. It’s so humiliating. I guess I’m just at a point where I wish I could look at it and find something of value in what I’ve written.

I see other authors and I get so jealous. At their confidence, at their lyricism, their mastery of the art, their enthusiasm for their story, their love of their characters. I don’t have that. I’m not even talking about imposter’s syndrome. I know what that feels like. This is something else. I just wish I was the kind of person who could openly be creative without wanting to die. I’m 100% sure if I could be enthusiastic about the story I want to tell, the entire thing would be better. It’s crazy how I noticed that I’m not writing any metaphors into realizing that’s directly connected with my inability to be vulnerable and that I’m detaching myself from my work. That, and the fact that I’m fucking shite at writing metaphors apparently.

It also doesn’t help that I don’t have a writer group of friends and very little people to talk about this with, none of which are like… enthusiastic. It’s not their fault. I attract people into my life who are very much like me. They’re supportive and wonderful but I need someone who’d be excited to talk to me about it. I just feel like such a huge burden all the time. Everytime I bring it up I feel terrible, but it’s occupying so much of my brain space and I have no outlet. But also, getting that group of friends would require me to be vulnerable online and be willing to share what I have so far which I might actually throw up.I think it’s very fun that “crying and throwing up” has become a saying on Twitter considering that I’ve counted a countless amount of times this year and thrown up from stress four times since last November. It might also be connected to coffee consumption, but if that’s true I’m ready to off myself because coffee is one of my few joys. Honestly, it’s probably a mix of both. I’m very healthy, very much okay.

I don’t know. Last year, I ended my little essay on a hopeful note. Here’s the thing, this may seem like very much just stream of consciousness bullshit but there is quite a bit of structuring I do and omissions I make. I didn’t talk about my struggles reconnecting with people and subsequently taking their irregular replies, because there’s a lot to get into there. There’s a lot I could’ve talked about, but no room. There’s a very specific flow, and I feel like any story, it needs a conclusion. So last year, through tears, I wrote a hopeful ending. It was as much for me as it was to the people reading it. Unfortunately, I don’t have it in it for me to conclude in the same fashion this time around.

The truth is, I need to feel okay. I need to feel like I’m good at something, anything, and be recognized for it.

Life is suffering and I’m just constantly going through the motions. I promise you, this stupid thing is 3k words and the second I’m done I’ll go back to working on my b**k even though today I literally started crying thinking about how shit it is. I’m just a tenacious individual. I persist. I don’t feel good about it, and I’m done with being genuinely hopeful, but there’s nothing to do but keep moving. I don’t know if my writing will get better or if I’ll ever get published or if this story is worth it. I don’t fucking know anything and I feel like shit. But what else am I going to do? I’ve been holding onto this hope that I’ll feel better about things for just so long and it hasn’t happened. But I’m not giving up lmao I’m just working with what I have. I am at my limit.

#mine #bean spews

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mattzerella-sticks · 4 years

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Supernatural Crack🩹tober

Day 2: Oops! All Flannel - Tartan Room

Plaid pillowcases. A matching bedspread. The pattern cascades off the fabric there, spilling out onto the floor in an orange and brown puddle. It spreads further, though, crawling across the walls and upholstered over every piece of furniture. Even the wooden sets, like the side table and entertainment unit, were scratched with checkered lines.

And, after using the bathroom, and seeing an ugly plaid, seat cover on the toilet, he realizes that's his breaking point. Dean storms from the adjoining room, followed by its haunting flush. “We need a different room.”

Sam looks up from his laptop, the table he sat at paired with an unnecessary picnic-like cloth. “We can’t,” he says, “you know how happy Jack was when we let him pick.”

Dean remembers. The others, too busy arguing in the car, pawned the easy job of booking a room onto Jack. Doe-eyed and eager, he leapt out of the car while Cas growled his opinion about the werewolves making an abandoned warehouse their den instead of a barn. By the time they exhausted themselves with that discussion, Jack returned. Boasting about picking the best room, one he was sure the Winchesters would love.

“This is all your fault, you know,” Cas says from the bed, flicking through channels. Dean arches a silent brow, waiting for him to continue. He grabs his duffel, dropping it by Cas’s feet. Rummaging inside for pajamas. “All you two wear is plaid, of course he’d be misguided towards this monstrosity.”

“We don’t only wear plaid!” Dean glances inside his bag, blanching at the sight of five different button-downs, all varieties of the same pattern. He feels Cas’s pointed stare, shoulders stiffening under the weight. “Listen,” he sighs, “not our fault the only shit strong enough for our line of work are these kinds of shirts.” He waves a flippant hand at the space around them, “This… this was a choice. An awful one at that.”

“And it was Jack’s choice that we stay here for the night…” Sam closes the laptop, standing. “Listen, if we work fast we’ll only be here for the one night. Think you can handle that much?”

Dean pouts, weighing his options. While he considered slipping out at night, forgoing his turn at being the little spoon for the classic design of his Baby, Sam’s needling painted a consequential picture. Of Jack waking up, noticing Dean missing. Asking him where he went, skewing his head in such a way like his father’s that his resistance will fall; Dean spewing his truth moments later.

“I guess,” he huffs, collapsing onto the bed. “The things you do for your kids…”

He feels the mattress shift, Cas slinking his way. Hooks his chin over Dean’s shoulder, nudging their heads together. “If it makes you feel better,” he whispers, “after the hunt, when we’re back home, I’ll finally watch that movie you’ve been going on and on about?”

His mood brightens somewhat, furthering when Cas’s offer is followed by a warm press of his lips against his cheek. “Okay… yeah,” he chuckles, turning his head. Meeting Cas for a kiss. “But I’m holding you to your word. You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting to watch it with somebody else. Sam keeps shooting me down –“

“Because it’s a bad movie, Dean,” Sam says, going through his own duffel, “you told me that yourself!”

“That’s the point!” He puffs his cheeks, mockingly glaring at his brother. “It’s so bad it’s good, okay? You just gotta trust me – even the name. I mean, whoever thought ‘Fateful Findings’ was a good name?”

“The writer did, at the time I suppose.”

“Which makes it even better, Cas.” Dean nuzzles the other man, smiling, “You can tell he really tried, the whole things’ s’posed to be serious but you can’t make any of it make sense!” His chest hurts with aborted laughter, reigning it in to not throw Cas from his shoulder. Already he bounces from how Dean’s shoulders shake. “I promise you’ll enjoy it.”

“I’ll hold you to it…” Cas slips his arms around Dean, tugging him closer, “Now why don’t you get to bed. The sooner we fall asleep the sooner we can get out of here.”

“Don’t have to tell me twice.” Sam left them, changing in the bathroom. Dean disrobes there, stripping into his boxers without care. Although he frowns at the undergarments, noticing the patterned style he wore. His expression sours further when he steps into his plaid pajama pants. “Do I really own a lot of plaid?” he asks Cas, joining him under the covers.

Cas caresses his face, thumb brushing along the curve of his cheek. ��Dean,” he sighs, “the only plaid thing you don’t own is a kilt, and I honestly believe it’s because the thought never crossed your mind.”

“Oh… fuck you.” Dean leans forward, fingers twitching near Cas’s sides as he readied a barrage. He halts, however, when the front door opens. Cas pushes Dean off to a more appropriate distance, that won’t scar Jack. Not that he would notice, enraptured by a plastic bag he most certainly didn’t have when he left. “Hey, Jack,” he calls, startling the younger boy from his reverie, “what’cha got there? Is that the ice we asked for?”

Jack’s brows furrow slightly, then deeper as his cheeks flush red. “Oh,” he says, “I… forgot.”

“You forgot?” Cas asks, “How did you forget?”

“And what did you buy?” Dean adds, wrapping his arms around his knees.

“I was on my way to the ice machine, when I noticed this motel… it has a gift shop!”

“It does?”

He nods, smile widening as he moved closer. Opening the bag, he drags out his purchases. The sight of them causes all the blood to drain from Dean’s face. “Apparently,” he explains, “this whole town has a huge Scottish population. And the factory you were talking about earlier Cas, the one that was abandoned, used to be a clothing factory that produced –“

“Don’t tell me,” Dean mutters, “plaid shirts?”

Jack brandishes it proudly, swinging the pink-and-blue fabric like a flag. “They had this whole assortment, and I bought one for each of us!” he admits, dumping them out on the bed, colors clashing loudly. Dean’s eyes straining at the sight. “But there were a few more I thought would look nice… I plan on going back tomorrow morning, first thing in the morning. Can you believe it? We can have a whole new wardrobe!”

While Jack prattles on about the different types of plaid clothing the store offered, Dean slides closer to Cas. “Hey, Cas,” he whispers, head bowed low, “can you do me another favor, when we get home?”

“What is it?”

“Help me throw everything plaid I own into the furnace.”

(Day 1 - Pray for Sam)

#destiel #deancas #destiel fanfic #deancas fanfic #supernatural #spn #spn cracktober #cracktober #cracktober day 2 #profoundnet

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zalrb · 4 years

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What were your favourite childhood movies? I was rewatching the karate kid movies and the newest version is nowhere as good as the old one.

This list is kind of all over the place, haha, because some movies are movies I grew up with meant for my age group at the time and a lot of them aren’t because I was exposed to a lot of media as a kid, haha. I’m also jumping around in time

Lion King --- I had Just Can’t Wait To Be King on repeat, I’d rewind it again and again and just sing it until I had to go to my room because my mother had enough

Aladdin --- apparently I just went around going, “I’m not a prize to be won!”

Land Before Time --- this movie is so fucking depressing but I really liked Ducky --- like to the point that the reason why I go “yepyep” is because Ducky goes “yepyepyep” and I remember when I realized that, I was like holy shit is that why all these years I go “yep yep” and my family was like, lol yes. But then as an adult I found out what happened to that child actress and that just made the movie all the more depressing

The Breakfast Club --- I explained this yesterday I believe

Grease --- so my mother loved/loves Grease, she knows all the songs, can play most of them on the piano and we used to live across the street from this movie theatre that played old movies and Grease was a regular so we watched it a lot

Sixteen Candles --- I remember thinking this was so romantic as a kid. Super problematic movie tho

Titanic - ah yes, Titanic, Leonardo DiCaprio, my first celebrity love. Oh, I can’t stand this movie now, lmao

Lord of the Rings trilogy --- lmao so when the first movie came out, I was obsessed with the elves and Rivendell and I used to write my homework with swirly letters to look like elvish and my teachers complained so I had to get a talking to about it

Love and Basketball --- first Black love story I ever saw.

Back To The Future 1 and 2, lmao as John Mulaney pointed out, the first movie anyway is actually REALLY weird when you think about it

Bad Boys --- I mean Martin Lawrence and Will Smith were the shit back then so I just liked watching them in a movie together

The Best Man --- THIS is funny so the 90s and early 00s saw a lot of African American movies and my mother was all about getting me to see Black people onscreen as much as I could so she took me to these movies even if it wasn’t exactly kid appropriate, she would just make sure to have a conversation with me about the movie when it ended, anyway, so when I was a kid, I didn’t really get a lot of the nuances of The Best Man but when it came out on VHS and when the soundtrack came out we got it so we watched it a lot and there’s a song by The Roots that I really like and one day I was like, I don’t know why I like this song so much and my mom was like because they play that song when you see Morris Chestnut for the first time and I think you went through puberty in the theatre when you saw him and I just diiiiiiiiiiiiiiied

As an adult, The Best Man is fucked up and I would’ve kicked Harper’s ass as well but only because what he did as a writer was a fucking dick move.

Pretty Woman --- it took me a while to realize that she was a sex worker

You’ve Got Mail --- I remember watching this in the theatre with my mom and being SO FRUSTRATED because I just didn’t understand why Tom Hanks couldn’t tell Meg Ryan the truth.

Liar Liar --- I related to having an absentee dad who never made good on his promises but I also liked Jim Carey’s exaggerative facial expressions but I remember there’s this joke, so the whole premise is that Jim Carey didn’t show up to his son’s birthday when he said he would (relatable!) and his son was so tired of him breaking promises, he wishes that his father will never lie again but Jim Carey is a lawyer so that causes issues, lmfao, but anyway so Jim Carey can’t lie and he has sex with I think it’s his boss, I forget, but he has sex with someone and she’s like how was it? and he goes “I’ve had better” and every time that joke came on my family would CRACK UP so I kept being like “better what? GUYS WHAT DID HE HAVE BETTER OF? I DON’T GET IT” then my mom and I had a conversation, lmfao.

Goodfellas --- I remember my cousins watching this movie in the living room and I saw the scene of the gif I posted below and was like OH WHAT’S THIS and then they told me to go into the bedroom because it was too grown but it’s like they forgot there was a TV in the bedroom and I just turned it to the channel and watched it there. And the movie came on a lot on TV so I just watched it a lot by myself, lmfao.

Twin Warriors aka Tai Chi Master --- probably my favourite martial arts movie. I know there are better ones but I really resonated with this as a kid. Jet Li was a legend with my cousins.

Fist of Legend

Once Upon A Time in China

Romeo Must Die --- omg I played this movie ALL. THE. TIME.

Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon

Boyz N The Hood --- a really important movie in my household to the point that I was excited to be able to write a paper on it in the same Popular Cinema from the 70s to the Present class I did my Breakfast Club paper for

same with Do The Right Thing

Jumanji -- I fucking love how mean-spirited this movie is and I did appreciate it as a child too although it freaked me the fuck out

Clueless

Home Alone - god, Kevin’s family was terrible

Home Alone 2 --- ah the movie/scene that changed my life

House Party --- to this day I haven’t been to a house party as live as this one

Malcolm X --- another extremely important movie in my household

Hook --- ooooh I still love this movie so much!

Scream --- I remember when this movie was THE. SHIT. Scared the fuck out of me.

Hero --- this movie was so gorgeous

Rush Hour --- I would probably hate Rush Hour now tbh but whenever I hear “Fantasy” by Mariah Carey I think of the opening scene because I was Soo Young belting to Mariah Carey in the car, it was the best part of the movie for me as a kid because I was like I DO THAT TOO but then she gets kidnapped, so....

The Mummy --- CLASSIC

Gremlins

Hercules - DUH

The Godfather --- I rarely talk about my dad but he was very much into mob movies because he liked the way they dressed and carriedt themselves in these movies, especially in The Godfather so whenever I was with him, The Godfather was on a lot

He was also very much into comics, particularly Batman, so even though I don’t really care for DCU/MCU or comics, I’m more likely to go to a theatre (well pre-Covid) and pay to watch a Batman movie over any other comic movie - except Black Panther which is a huge exception because these Batman movies were a pat of my childhood

yes, even Batman and Robin, I even had the soundtrack, listening to Bone Thugs N Harmony on my bunk bed and shit.

Space Jam --- I recently watched the Movie Pitch for this and it had me hollering

Lean On Me --- I have complicated feelings about this movie now but I grew up watching it and I really liked it and the older I got the more I understood what the movie was actually about

Practical Magic --- I wanted to live in that house

Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone --- because it was real finally!

Armageddon -- I still love this horrible, nonsensical, illogical, terrible movie because it’s utterly fantastic and hilarious. As a child I didn’t understand this moment and why it was such a huge ask, as an adult I’m like YES. IF I SURVIVE SAVING THE WORLD I’M NOT DOING THIS, THE FUCK I LOOK LIKE?

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isthatbloodonhisshirt · 4 years

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If you could change ten things about Teen Wolf what would you change??

OMG BUCKLE DOWN BECAUSE IT’S GONNA BE A LONG ONE! Do asks have a word limit? Guess we gonna find out! (Sometimes I wish I could speak these replies, they sound much funnier when I am speaking out loud to myself and then they are just weird and flat typed up but I DIGRESS! I do that a lot, have you noticed? Doesn’t matter.)

(Also, I did put a “Keep Reading” but for some reason it’s not working. Or it’s not showing as working on my end. But it’s right under this paragraph I swear so if it’s not working, that isn’t on me....)

1) SO! Trauma. People be dealing with their traumas. That’d be a thing I’d like, thank you. Like, I’m sorry, but there is a fuckton of trauma in this show and everyone like, goes to bed at night and wakes up cured. Like MAGIC! I mean, yes, I get that magic is a thing in the show (is it? I mean kind of? Idk, I never saw past season 4, they alluded to magic and then SNATCHED THAT AWAY so, side-note, that’s coming up later!) But yes, I would’ve very much liked for people to, you know, deal with their traumas in a realistic fashion. Let’s get some therapy going, or like, idk, some actual negative reactions to thing! They kind of had that with Stiles every now and then, but he seemed to be up and down episode to episode so like, it’d be like they wrote an episode where he reacts to what happened to him and then four episodes have gone by where he’s fine and the writers were like “OH YEAH SHIT HE JUST MURDERED LIKE A WHOLE HOSPITAL, make him have a panic attack randomly over dropping milk, that balances out, excellent, we’re so smart.” So yes. DEAL. WITH. THE. TRAUMA! Thanks.

2) LESS CHARACTERS, MORE DEVELOPMENT! I mentioned this in another recent ask about relationships but like, they just kept shoving characters in there. Like one of those clown cars. So we got like, 30% character development on the core group and then the rest was like “wait, who are you again?” Like, legit, I have a bad memory, you put too many people in front of me, I ain’t gonna remember them unless they have a good personality or a reason to be there. And like, develop their relationships! Not even romantically, but like, Scott’s mom loves Scott, that is sweet and lovely, but like, we never really… see… that… developed? Idk man, like again, I have a bad memory, but when you really develop relationships WELL (ex: Brooklyn-nine-nine), that shit sticks with you and you CARE about people. The friendships are important, and the familial relationships are important and just developing all the dynamics is important! They spent more time showcasing how much everyone hated each other and lied to each other and stuff and that just got really tiring. Yes, you’re allowed to get mad at your friends, but if you’re a Werewolf, and your human friend is calling you when there is a fucking monster running around killing people, can you maybe stop making out with your girlfriend and answer your phone so your friend isn’t treading water with a 200+ pound Werewolf for 2 hours? Like, JUST SAYING! (Spoiler alert: Me and Scott would not be close friends. Like, I think we’d be friends, but not so much that I’d trust him with my life. If I wanted to grab pizza and a movie, maybe play some video games, he sounds like a treat, but if my life was in danger, thanks I be callin’ someone who answers their phone).

3) Actual consequences for their actions! Okay like, I am also guilty of this in fanfic, but at the same time, my writing is free, I don’t get paid for it, and I write what I want because that’s how it works, so I can do whatever I please (If I wanna make the Hales royalty for the millionth time, ain’t nobody gonna stop me!). But like, when you are a legit paid screenwriter who is writing a show? Consequences! Just because it’s a show about Werewolves doesn’t mean there can’t be any consequences! Like, the best scene, and I feel like we can agree, because fuck it like, hurt my soul and my heart and I was just so like ;~; was when the sheriff got fired (fired? suspended? TEMPORARILY UNEMPLOYED!) because Stiles stole a police van when they locked Jackson up in it. Like, that shit was REAL LIFE CONSEQUENCES for actions, and that shit was intense and it HURT and omg I loved it! Give me more of that! Like, I’m sorry, but you gonna tell me Nogistune!Stiles walked through the hospital murdering a bazillion people and not one camera was working the whole time? Not one? Nobody saw that? Nobody went “hey, isn’t that the sheriff’s kid?” Like, CAN. YOU. IMAGINE?! That would’ve been so amazing, a bunch of episodes of the pack scrambling to keep the Supernatural a secret while also trying to stop Stiles from GETTING ARRESTED because saying “Sorry ma’am, I was possessed by a demon fox who likes chaos and thought murdering a bunch of people would be fun” ain’t gonna fly in court and the FBI sure isn’t gonna believe that but like, UGH! Again, bad memory, but was the fact that Dark!Stiles wandered through the hospital killing people EVER brought up again???? CONSEQUENCES. Woulda really liked that.

4) STOP with unnecessary romances. Like, yeah, I get it, the allos like their romances, but shockingly, you can still have a good show without focussing on the romance. Like, it can be there, I’m not saying don’t put it in, I’m saying DON’T MAKE IT THE MOST IMPORTANT THING! Like, the entirety of season one was Scott chasing Allison and Stiles chasing Lydia. This… this does not make an interesting show? Like, is that just me? And then as the season progressed, EVERYONE had to be in a relationship? WHY? Again, haven’t seen past season four, but I mean, I know Scott and Kira were a thing, and then Stiles and Malia, and Liam and some… person? Idk. And Ethan and Danny (congrats Jeff, you get to tick your “I had representation in my show!” box, well done, gold star, or whatever). And Isaac and Allison, and Melissa and Chris (apparently?). And then Stydia was alluded as being canon, and Scott ended up with Malia somehow?? And Derek slept with half the town and all of Mexico, idek. Like, stop it. Stop. Shows work without everything being about everyone banging each other. (See again: Brooklyn-nine-nine, or Avatar the Last Airbender, or The Good Place, or even fucking Supernatural!) You can have a good, interesting story without everyone banging each other. It ain’t necessary.

5) More actual storytelling (again, this woulda worked better without the unnecessary romances taking up 49 of the 50 minutes of air-time). Like, yes, I get it, pilot’s gotta have some pizzaz! Gotta be spicy and sparkly to make people interested (and like, fucking hell, all I can remember of the pilot is sobbing Allison soaking wet–LIKE, WAS THAT NECESSARY???–about the dog she hit and oh noes is it dead well thank God the lead character works for a vet! And somehow has keys and access to the whole clinic like nbd at all hours? Whatever. I wasn’t even allowed inside my blockbuster as a shift lead if it was off-hours but apparently a high school student doing paperwork at a vet clinic is different, I’m not a vet so what do I know? I HAD A BAD DAY OKAY, I GOT FEELINGS ABOUT THIS RN!) I went off-topic, what was I saying? Oh yes, storytelling. You know what woulda been nice? Werewolves! It happens, we find out about Laura, we find out about Werewolves, Scott gets bitten, all that jazz. And then like… ease in the Hunters? Like, why was there Laura/Derek, Peter, AND the Hunters all crammed into the pilot? Yes, I get it, you need the SUSPENSE and the DRAMA, but you can do that without the Hunters right off the bat. Just, how CONVENIENT~ that the same day Derek and Laura come back, Hunters move to town? That’s just lazy, and again, I can be guilty of laziness, I admit to it, but I literally get paid in—like, do hearts count? I get paid in hearts and pats on the back for my fics, I can write whatever I want. If you’re getting paid to write something, try a bit harder, yes? Yes???

What number am I on? Oh good Lord, I got things to say, okay.

6) MAGIC! Can you like—I feel like this one is self-explanatory. Stiles did the whole mountain ash thing in season one, and it was SO PROMISING, and then that just died. It died like Maes Hughes getting shot in a phonebooth (spoiler, but really, you haven’t seen that yet, that’s a you problem). Why even bother introducing magic if you weren’t gonna use it? Like, was it because people like Stiles more than Scott and the showrunner was like “nonono. If we make him magic, he’s TOO cool, and then Scott is unimportant.” I mean, you coulda worked that in your favour, but no. You just murdered the fuck out of it, like straight up took it out back and shot it. Like, yeah, Derek went kiddo again and Jennifer was apparently all magic beauty spell or whatever, but like?? That’s it??? You had a show about Werewolves and you didn’t even try to make it more interesting by making some of the characters magic? Lydia’s basically the closest and they didn’t even explain her powers that well. Magic would’ve been dope and they totally shoved that to the side. That was dumb. Shoulda done something with that.

7) Explain things more? Don’t mention them once and then do nothing? Like, we got some brief stuff about anchors, and emissaries (which are super duper secret according to Deaton but then like, EVERYONE KNOWS HE IS EMISSARY SO WHICH IS IT DEATON? YOU TELL ME!) Like, they had so much opportunity to talk about so many things and again, maybe that comes out more in the later seasons, idk, but they likely coulda done with more explanations and they didn’t and this angers me GREATLY. They mention something once and then it never comes up again. That’s some Lost bullshit right there. Don’t start something if you’re not gonna commit. You tell me the beginning of the story, I wanna fucking know the end, don’t forget halfway through and wander away, that ain’t right, I NEED ANSWERS JEFF! And like, as above, never really got Lydia’s powers. I know what a Banshee is, but her powers did NOT make sense to me. Idk, could just be that I’m dumb, but similarly, don’t write something so convoluted that it confuses people, that is also dumb. As dumb as I am so like, well done there. And also do we get more on Parrish? I know he’s a Hellhound, but how does one get born a Hellhound and not know until you are conveniently lit on fire by someone trying to kill you for money? (Also, you bean, you absolute treasure, “I’m worth five dollars?” You’re so cute. Silly child.) I feel like being a Hellhound is something that woulda come up before getting barbecued in his cruiser. Like, he works a stressful job, you gonna tell me not ONCE while getting shot at he didn’t have a massive heart attack over a close call and like, burst into flames? No? Is that just a me thing? I feel like the slightest annoyance and I’d be fully on fire, not gonna lie. (I’d be on fire a LOT… CLEARLY I AM AN ANGRY PERSON! No, that’s not true. No yes it is, I am angry, but more angry lately because I’m sleep-deprived and work is dumb ANYWAY back to this)

8) EMBRACE THE SIDE CHARACTERS! Okay, so MAYBE Scott is meant to be the golden child. The Dick Grayson of the show, if you will. The original Robin, the creme de la creme. That’s all fine and dandy if he is, no judgement (little judgement), but you know what you don’t do when your side characters are getting a lot of attention and love? What you DO NOT do is give them less screen time. Because then you’re being petty and, shockingly, you get more positive results when you give the fans what they want. I’m not talking about pairings, because everyone is different, and you can’t cater to everyone, but like, the more people moved away from liking Scott, the harder the showrunners pushed him into our faces. And like, that isn’t how this works. If I like side character 87 a lot, and the lead’s getting annoying, you know what’s gonna make me NOT watch the show? Cutting out side character 87 (hey, for shits and gigs, let’s call him DANNY, just, not coincidentally at all) and then just shoving the lead into my face. That is what makes someone go “Well, four seasons is enough, I can happily live knowing I didn’t waste my life watching two more of them.” Like??? I’m not saying cut out Scott, because the show is ABOUT Scott, but the more everyone tried to showcase how amazing and wonderful and pure and perfect he was, the more annoying it got? Like, Scott has flaws. THEY ALL HAVE FLAWS! If you don’t admit that they all have flaws, it gets boring, and you hate the characters. I know that Scott turned into a douche later (apparently, again, haven’t seen it), but even in the early seasons by trying to make him this pure True Alpha golden angel child who spreads love and hope and trusts everyone, it just got boring. He was vanilla, and also a bad friend, because he was too “perfect” to be around someone “imperfect” like Stiles, and even like, the rest of the pack overall. He was always put on a pedestal and it made the show really… irksome? Idk, I just feel like yes, SCOTT is the Teen Wolf, but you added all these damn side characters, maybe use them a bit more? At least Stiles was interesting, and Lydia was fucking badass, and fucking hell, if you’d done right by Boyd and Erica, the actors wouldn’t have left for better shows so like, come on man, you coulda done better. We coulda had such a dope show, why you gotta crush my dreams like that Jeff? What did I ever do to you?

I know this is only eight, but this is long enough, if I go two more, this is gonna be IN.SANE. And also it’s late and I haven’t finished my fic for the day (I mean, I’m almost done, but I’m not done yet!) So like, I’ma stop here. But yes, hopefully this answered your question. Sorry I got REALLY PASSIONATE about it but it’s been a day.

Also, I feel this needs to be said, but obviously these are my own personal opinions, and as opinions, you are not obligated to agree with them. But you are also not allowed to tell me my opinion is wrong. You can disagree with it, but this is an opinion, not a law, so there is no right and wrong. Don’t @ me, my day’s been bad enough kthx!

HAVE A GOOD NIGHT, BE BACK IN LIKE TWENTY(?) MINUTES!

#not tw #but also kind of #Blood's yakkity yaks #I had a lot to say #it's been a day okay!#Anonymous

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damfinofanfiction · 3 years

Text

Chapter 7: The Shoot (V.2.)

The note is at the end of this chapter

Gail walked into Benjamin’s Photography studio and looked around the place. It had the size of a warehouse. She had a dress borrowed from a friend laid on her arm and had brought makeup to use on the set. With her free hand, She waved to Benjamin, who was still setting up the equipment.

He then noticed the refined curls on her locks, “Darling your hair looks ravishing!”

“Thank you, I was just at the salon.” Hesitant to put her things down and getting ready, Gail informed him, “I have this dress for the shoot. Do you have a changing room?”

He pointed to where it is, “Yes, it is to your left.” She thanked him as she walked to the door.

Having already mounted the equipment, Ben saw Gail emerge from the room in a dress printed with large roses and with light makeup on her face. Ben liked what he saw on her, took the stool for her to sit on the backdrop.

When she sat down, he told her, “How about you try several different headshots to find out which is best?”

"That would be perfect.," Gail nodded. She and Ben were discussing each pose before proceeding with the photoshoot.

As he instructed her, Gail turned to her side looking up, and then a flash came from the camera. When she turned her head to the camera, she smiled a bit. Flash. Turned all of her to the front. Flash. Got up to lean on the seat. Flash. After all that, Gail was feeling hot from the lights. Ben gave her a paper cup of water for her to drink.

After she took hydrating sips she asked him, “Do you have any more ideas?”

Ben took the now empty cup from her when he suggested, “How about you show some more skin?”

Shocked, she shook her head, “No!”

He took his hand on her shoulder, “It’s only the shoulders. Take those straps down.”

She brushed it off, “No, that’s not the image I’m going for, Ben!”

He implored her, “Ladies like you pose nude in photos.”

“Ladies like me?!?” She stood in retaliation. “Is this what the photo session was about? Me out of my dress?”

He shouted, “No, I’m only helping your damn career!!”

Seeing Gail upset, he realized he had offended her profession. He stuttered, “I-I didn’t mean that.”

Fumed, she declared, “We are done here.”

She went to the dressing room to collect her stuff she didn’t bother changing back because she wanted to leave immediately.

Ben grabbed her arm, but she brushed it off, “I’m sorry. That came out wrong. Can I at least make any amends?”

Before storming out, she requested without maintaining eye contact, “Just send me the photos as soon as they’re developed so I know what I’m looking at, and don’t talk to me again.”

**************

One month later.

Caruthers was helping Buster get dressed for the Seven Chances cast party. It has been usually possible for him to dress up on his own, but he was not accustomed to putting on a tuxedo without help. Earlier today, Keaton was informed that he and his wife Natalie will be riding with her sister Constance, nicknamed Dutch, William “buster Collier, and his mother-in-law Peg Talmadge. The elder sister, Norma, and her husband Joe Schenck were at their place setting up the party. Keaton didn’t mind riding with the former two as Collier was his friend and Dutch treated him as a brother, but Peg was harsher than her husband; she wished her daughter would've chosen a better suitor than a man who made a living by throwing himself to get some laughs. Anyway, he was relieved to have finished his least favorite movie. But hoped it will be profitable enough for his next feature.

He heard a few knocks from his bedroom door, “Yes?”

His other butler called through the door, “The Vehicle has just arrived.”

When Keaton started working on his tie, he said, “Tell ‘em I’ll be right over.”

Soon as he exited the room, Natalie came out the door next to him wearing a rose-colored evening gown with pearls dangling on her chest. Her handmaid carried the hemline of her dress so she wouldn't trip down the stairs, while Buster followed them. He and Natalie bid good night to their young sons when their governess brought them from their playroom. The governess, who was holding the year-old Robert, and the oldest son, Jimmy watched the parents leave the mansion for their ride before she took them to their nursery.

As the car drove through Muirfield road, Buster had a chat with the other Buster while the missus converses with his in-laws. When Dutch pardoned herself out of the casual talk to cuddle with Collier, Keaton made a move by placing his hand next to Natalie's, having them touch. Even though she almost flinched, she didn't want to be interrupted.

After she finished her, she whispered to Buster, “I wish you wouldn’t try to touch me.”

He replied, “I’m still your husband aren't I?”

“It's a good thing or you'd be out with someone else.”

They both knew if they were going to fight it wouldn’t be the place and time since they’re in a crowded vehicle. Buster soothed her, “But I’m here. That’s all that matters.” He was going to put his hand on hers, but backed out at the last minute. He added, “And thank you for coming along.”

“Why shouldn’t I? It’s at Norma’s, I wouldn’t miss it for the world. And besides, Mother thought if I went with you, the guest would see how we were doing.” Natalie looked out the window.

Crestfallen he asked, “Are we okay?”

After a pause, she replied, “It depends.”

Buster got her attention back when he nudged at her, telling her, “You look lovely.” Though with a stern face, she took the compliment. Natalie lent her hand for him to kiss it, then she gently whisked it away, having no more than one.

When the Keatons arrived at Joe and Norma’s residence, they pretended to be an ideal couple as if nothing was wrong between them like Buster always wished for.

*****************

"Hey, give her a free ticket," Sally demanded to the ticket vendor, although Gail mentioned beforehand she didn’t mind.

The vendor shook her head, “Sorry, It's against policy.”

“She’s in that movie.” She pointed to the lobby poster of Seven chances.

Gail added, “It’s only a bit role.”

The vendor asked, “Were you an extra?

Gail answered yes. The vendor said, “I still won’t allow a free ticket, but you can pay half.”

After receiving her ticket, Gail and Sally went to the theater and sat down. The Pianist started playing when the film started. The audience and even Gail were surprised to see that the Prologue was in color, but grew confused when the rest of the film was played in black and white. They were amazed at the camera tricks which has always been a favorite for her. There are plenty of laughs throughout the feature, especially when Keaton’s character James wanted to get married by 7 pm to inherit millions of dollars but his proposals always fail. She felt bad for the main character. When the brides’ scene played, Gail was looking out for herself. She pointed Sally where she was. Gail always loved seeing herself in a film. When she started watching films, she imagined herself as a character in that film, but now she appeared in several shorts a year though she was in the background. At the end of the film when it was thought that James failed to get married in time and sulks in shame. Gail almost cried, but then lights up when he finds out the actual time and marries his beloved sweetheart in time. The audience was enabled to applaud as the end title came on.

With the picture over, the friends got up from their seats to leave, but stopped when they saw Benjamin in the theatre as well. “I thought I might find you here,” he said with a sheepish tone.

Gail had not spoken to Ben since the photo shoot, and he kept apologizing to her. She still avoided him. He even sent her flowers to win her back. When he sent her the photos for her to look over, in a note that came with it, he recommended the one where she looked up with the spotlight shining on her. Gail did write back saying she liked that one too.

Gail was less angry than the last time they saw each other. she asked, “How did you know we’d be here?”

“You usually come here whenever a new movie is released, including the one with Keaton. Can we talk?”

“Well, not here.”

The three walked to the nearest drugstore where Gail and Ben sat at a table by the window. Sally was by the checkout, purchasing cookies while keeping an eye on them like a hawk.

“Look, I was an ass that day. I should’ve never offended you and your job.”

“I promised my grandmother, I would never let California change me. I didn't want to alter my image.”

Ben nodded in agreement, “I was merely trying to help you advance your career.”

“And I do appreciate it.”

He took her hand, “There is another reason I wanted to see you.” When she asked why. He told her, “I will be going to New York City for business next Monday.”

“How long?”, she sat up straight.

“If something happens, a month."

“That seems long. I think that’ll be plenty of space.”

“If you want I will write you as soon as I get there.”

“Sure, I never got to thank you for the headshots.”

“You’re welcome. I made more copies so I could send them to the studio.”

“That’ll be enough.”

Gail hugged Ben goodbye when he got up from his seat and he waved to her while leaving the drugstore.

Sally took his now empty seat, “Did you two break up?”

Gail slouched as she replied, “I’m not so sure. We didn’t bring that up.”

The blonde took a sandwich cookie out of the package, “Hey, Bae, do you want a Hydrox cookie?”

She accepted the treat and ate it. Contrary to their talk, Gail was unsure about her future with Benjamin but at least he was trying his best.

Note: I have written an alternate scene where they go to a cast party instead of a premiere since it was actually held at the Capitol in New York. I kept the original for archival reasons. Chapter 13 is at the beginning stages but I’m afraid that I have another case of the writer’s block. i’m hoping to get it done at least before I go out to another vacation next month. if you have any ideas and questions, let me know and hope you enjoyed my chapters.

#Buster Keaton #buster keaton fanfiction #buster fic #buster keaton fandom #buster #actor RPF #silent era #silent comedy #silent film #Seven Chances

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let-it-raines · 4 years

Text

What a Wicked Game {12/15}

Killian met her in a pub on a rainy night in March. Going inside was only supposed to be a way for him to avoid the rain and fight off the demons in his head. It was a place for him to pass through, not stay. But then he was charmed by a blonde woman with a quick wit who had absolutely no interest in him or who he was.

That was a first. It was also the beginning of Emma Nolan helping to bring him back to life. It was the beginning of everything.

Five years later, with their worlds crumbling around them, Killian can’t help but wonder if this is the end of the peace they have known now that his family knows about his relationship. It wouldn’t be a problem if his father wasn’t the King of England.

rating: mature

a/n: thank you to the mods at @captainswanbigbang for running this event and helping to encourage writers to finish their wonderful stories, to @resident-of-storybrooke for reading all these words, and to @captainsjedi for making the beautiful artwork ❤️

ao3: beginning | current

tumblr: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 |

-/-

October 19th, 2018

October dawns bright and warm, but as it settles in, the warmth disappears into a chill and the brightness of the sky turns to the gray for which London is often known. Leaves are still in the midst of changing colors, from a dull green to vibrant oranges and reds that contrast the sky, and Emma finds herself staring out the large window in Killian’s bedroom to look at the leaves falling from a tree and drifting through the air until they eventually land on the edge of the roof. It’s been seven weeks since she slept in her own bed and had her parents just down the hall from her, and as weird as it’s been, she’s thankful for this.

She’s thankful that every day she is actively making the choice to be with Killian and to work at adjusting to all of the complications that come with this life.

It’s more than a lot, but as she looks down at her arm and sees it without the ugly white plaster and stretches her arms above her head without any pain, Emma reminds herself that time and a little extra care can heal things. The immediate reaction and pain doesn’t stay. It changes and lessens. Her body is healing, her heart too, and the darkness that surrounded her for all of August seems to have almost been extinguished.

Nothing about this has been easy, but Emma doesn’t want to retreat back and walk away again. She still believes that her reasons were sound, that she had to do it in order to take care of herself and protect her heart, and in a weird way, coming out on the other side has made her thankful for it.

Getting into a car crash and possibly almost dying because photographers wanted a picture of her sitting in a car after they found out about she and Killian’s breakup wasn’t great. She could have done without that. She still could. And she definitely won’t be getting in a car on a rainy night anytime soon.

Her physical scars may be lessening, most of them non-existent now, but she’s not ready for that. She’s not ready for a lot of things, but when has she ever been?

“Darling,” Killian calls out, and she gets a little smile on her face at how much his accent thickens on that word, “do you know where my solid navy tie is? It should be with all of the others, but I can’t find it.”

“Where did you last see it?”

“If I bloody well knew that, I wouldn’t be asking where it is.”

He pokes his head out of the bathroom before walking outside and finishing the buttons on his dress shirt. He looks handsome today in his navy pants and light blue dress shirt, and she really doesn’t see why he needs to wear a tie when he looks fine without it. Royal dress code or something. She doesn’t know. Over the past few weeks as she’s isolated herself in Killian’s apartment at Kensington or wandered over to Liam and Elsa’s to spend time with Elsa, she’s found herself going through guidebooks that Elsa had made when she got engaged to Liam. There are all these rules and regulations from how to cross your legs to what nail polish she’s supposed to wear, and while Emma thinks a lot of it is bullshit, it’s the territory that comes with being in this relationship.

Emma will paint her nails ballet slipper pink and cross her legs at the ankle every damn day if that’s what it takes. What she won’t do is be suffocated by the press and by Brennan.

What she won’t do is make Killian leave his family and break his mom’s heart simply because she couldn’t handle the pressure.

If he wants to leave, if it is truly his decision outside of her, she’s more than happy for them to live their lives in a simpler way where Killian doesn’t have to worry about where his solid navy tie is. Leaving may be in their future, but they’ll cross that bridge when they get to it.

But if they’re staying and doing this, she wants to make the best out of the situation. She wants to work with charities that help empower women and children. She wants to do that for men too, to educate them on the intricacies over an ever-changing world. She wants to do good and be good. This family is insane, the money and the traditions and the vault full of actual tiaras like something out of a movie, but they can use their privilege to do good.

Emma knows what it’s like to not have this kind of privilege, and now she may be in a position to help.

“Cool down, Casanova. No need to get all snippy over your tie. Where are you even going today?”

“The opening of a hospital wing and then I’m meeting with a slew of new security guards to interview.”

“Do you want me to come with you?”

Killian arches a brow. “Haven’t you spent enough time in hospitals lately?”

“I meant to the interviews, dumbass. Isn’t this for my security, too?”

Killian fidgets with the neck of his shirt, buttoning and then unbuttoning it so that black tufts of chest hair show. “Aye, but I figured I’d go through the candidates first, and then you could meet the top few to see which ones you’re most comfortable with.”

“I can come with you. It’s really not a big deal. I don’t have any plans for the day.”

“Swan, it’s fine. I promise.” Killian walks over to her and sits down on the edge of the bed next to her before taking her hand and bringing it to his mouth. “This is a dreadfully boring process, and my father is unfortunately going to be there for some of it, though I’ll likely leave the room when he does his own interviews. I don’t - after August, he’s convinced that I can’t pick out my own security team.”

“August was...I mean, he was selling information about us because his dad is sick and can’t afford the surgeries and medication back in America. He was willing to risk prison to save his dad. That’s not something you could have predicted.”

A part of Emma understands the words she’s telling Killian, but the other part of her wants to punch August’s fucking teeth out for making her life hell and inadvertently causing her crash.

“You’ve met Brennan. You know how he can be. I could do everything perfectly, but one screw up that’s outside of my control, and I’m incompetent.”

“Your dad sucks.”

Killian leans his head back with his laugh before leaning forward and pressing his lips to her knuckles once more. “In three words, you’ve managed to sum up quite a bit of my life.”

“I’m magical like that.”

“That you are, my love. That you are.” Killian sighs and blinks at her a few times. She thinks he’s going to say something to her, but then there’s a slight shake of his head and she knows the moment has passed. “Give me a little more time, and I swear I’ll talk to him. Seriously. He and I may never get along, but that’s okay. I simply need him to publicly accept you and to sign off on all of these protection measures for you.”

“Killian, you know you don’t have to do - ”

“No, I do. I will do everything I can to protect you, and if that means I have to have an actual conversation with my father where I don’t leave the room until I get what I want, I will. We’ve missed so much time not talking and not taking action. I don’t want to miss any more.”

Emma leans forward and presses her mouth to Killian’s cheek. “I love you. You should wear the white and navy striped tie instead of the solid one.”

He raises his hand to his forehead as he stands from the bed. “Aye, that’s a good idea.”

“And babe?”

“Yeah, love?”

“If Graham Humbert doesn’t make it to the final interview stage for security, Ruby and I will both be pissed at you. He’s who I want protecting me.”

“That doesn’t terrify me as much as it should.”

“Ruby will be vicious.”

“Eh.”

“I can withhold sex, and you just got that back.”

Killian mock gasps, placing his hand over his heart. “You’re a liar, Emma Nolan. I know you find me too attractive to ever do that.”

He catches the pillow she throws with annoying ease, and she hates him for it.

(Not really.)

After Killian leaves, Emma falls back into bed and thinks that she’ll spend her day watching Netflix or doing something else as equally lazy. What better way is there to spend her last day of being twenty-five?

None.

But that lasts approximately two episodes of a show before guilt nags at her, and she’s moving the covers off of her legs and standing from the bed with a frown etched on her lips and the idea that she needs to clean something. Cleaning is not at all her thing unless she’s working at the pub, but she’s been pretty much on vacation (if vacation included recovering from a car crash and having a million talks with your boyfriend over all of the problems in your relationship) for two months, and she’s probably genetically unable to not work for such long periods of time.

She’s in a literal palace, even if it’s nothing like any of the movies or shows, and instead of relaxing, she wants to clean up the spots Killian has let go over the past few weeks from not having a maid to aid him in his ridiculously specific cleaning rituals.

What even is her life?

She starts in the kitchen, going through Killian’s fridge and throwing out everything that’s expired or has gone bad, and she quickly moves on from that to vacuuming every rug and sweeping or dusting the places that get missed. It’s a lot, and if it wasn’t for the music that is playing over the system, she’d have quit hours ago. She’s about to quit now when she remembers just how messy Killian’s closet is because of her absolute inability to hang up her own clothes.

They’ve probably had more fights about that than, oh, you know, whether or not the actual King of England wants to behead her or not.

(Currently, they’re leaning more toward him wanting to lock her away in a dungeon so she can’t cause any more unintentional media frenzies. It’s apparently less dramatic than a beheading because at least she gets to live...this is a weird train of thought.)

Emma’s phone starts ringing, and she pulls it out of her pocket to answer as she walks up the stairs.

“Hey, Dad.”

“Hey, sweetheart,” David greets. “How are you feeling today? Old? Young? Like your life is over because you’re getting closer to late-twenties than early-twenties?”

“You are the most encouraging person alive.”

“I try.”

Emma chuckles and turns down the hallway to go into the bedroom, picking up her bra from where Killian must have tossed it last night and placing it in the hamper. “I’m fine. Killian’s at work opening a new hospital wing, apparently. I’m cleaning. How are you? What are you guys up to today?”

“I’m sorry. Did you say you were cleaning? Are we sure that you don’t have a concussion?”

“Your dad jokes are not good.”

“Every joke I’ve told since the day you were born has been a dad joke, and they’ve all been fabulous.”

She groans and walks into the closet before placing her phone on the table in the center of the room and putting it on speaker so she can do a little work before she loses momentum.

“I’m taking your dad joke privileges away, and to answer your question, I really am fine. I’m just messy, and Killian hasn’t had any of his usual staff in the apartment while I’ve been here. I think the whole August thing freaked him out so that he doesn’t trust anyone around me.”

“Someone close to him was selling information about you that harmed you. I’d be freaked out too. Hell, I am freaked out. If I wouldn’t get arrested for assault, I’d confront the guy.”

Everyone she loves wants to punch everyone who has hurt her, but they all stop themselves because of the fear of getting arrested for assault…she’s not sure if that’s flattering or concerning.

“What are you and Mom up to today?” she questions again, wanting to change the subject. She doesn’t want to talk about all of the shitty stuff that’s been happening to her lately. All she wants is to pick up all of her sweaters from the ground and figure out which ones need to be washed. Focusing on the bad is not how she’s going to move forward.

(And maybe not having to see August Booth’s face.)

“Your mom is downstairs with Will going over some possible menu changes, and I’ve been told I’m not allowed in the pub until I fix whatever is up with this toilet.”

“Ah, so you called me to procrastinate on doing that?”

“You know me so well.”

Emma fills in her dad on everything that’s been going on over the past few days. She tells him that her arm almost doesn’t feel weird anymore and that Ruby came over for dinner two nights again and brought Graham along with her. David is nearly as shocked by that as she was. This might be the longest relationship Ruby has ever had, and it’s good to see her so happy. It’s good that Emma likes Graham in that he’s dating her best friend and also might be protecting Emma’s life from now on if his next round of interviews goes well. In return, her dad gives her far too much information on the date he and her mom went on last night, and then he spends at least ten minutes talking about the difference in two brands of tomatoes.

All the while Emma has almost the entire closet (seriously, her dad talked for way too long and gave too much information about the date like he was talking to a friend and not his daughter) cleaned up. When she moves a pair of jeans that are on Killian’s side of the closet, she finds his solid blue navy tie he was searching for earlier.

“Ha,” she mumbles before reaching down to grab the tie.

“What?”

“Nothing,” she says to her dad before tugging on the tie and pulling it up only for a small black box to roll out of it and tumble down onto the ground. “Holy shit.”

“Emma, are you okay?” David asks, but Emma barely hears him over the pounding of her heart. There might as well be an entire drumline in the room.

“Emma?”

“Y-yeah,” she lies even as her fingers tug so tightly on the tie that it might tear. “Hey, Dad? Has Killian talked to you about any...future type things?”

“What do you mean?”

Emma huffs and goes to pick up the box. They could be earrings, right? Or a necklace? Or another ring? She’s got a sapphire one she wears on her right hand. Killian has given her a ring before that wasn’t an engagement ring. That doesn’t mean what’s in this box is one. He buys her jewelry, and it’s not a big deal.

Except…

When the hell did he have time to get this?

How long has he had it? What made him decide to get it? When does he plan on using it? Does he still plan on using it after their breakup?

“You know what I mean. Has he - you know what,” Emma decides, placing the box on the table, “never mind. Don’t tell me anything. I think I’m going to have to call you back later.”

“Whatever you want,” David sighs, confused. “I love you, kiddo.”

“I love you, too, Dad.”

And then the phone line disconnects and she’s left with nothing except for the sound of that damn drumline and the jewelry box that she doesn’t know what to do with. She’s not going to look. She can’t look. There’s no good that would come out of it.

She really wants to look.

Like, really.

“No,” Emma tells herself, grabbing the box off the table and moving to put it back where it must have been before it got tangled in her jeans and in the tie. She puts the tie back for good measure as well, and she’s absolutely going to bite her tongue on bragging about finding the tie when Killian gets home.

He wants to marry her.

She wants to marry him.

Maybe cleaning was worth something.

-/-

Killian comes home that night with grilled cheese sandwiches, which he hates, and onion rings from Ruby’s grandmother’s restaurant, and she doesn’t think she’s ever loved him more.

He tells her that Graham has moved onto the final selections even with Brennan’s hounding and worry over Graham not being trained in the same way as their usual security.

Emma knows that she wants him to be the one who’s hired. She’s not going to trust anyone else, not after everything that’s happened.

-/-

He doesn’t give her any kind of jewelry for her birthday the next day, and she knows what was in the box.

There’s no definite proof, but Emma knows.

Right now, where they are, she’s not ready to get married, but she will be someday. Probably soon. So if Killian were to ask her, she’d say yes over and over again, but the actual getting married part would have to be put on hold until her emotions, Killian’s too, were a little less chaotic.

Love is a really funny thing.

-/-

November 10th, 2018

The cool of the marble pebbles Emma’s skin as Killian helps guide her on top of the counter. His fingers inch over the back of her thighs and up behind her knees where she’s sensitive, and she giggles into his neck while trying to keep herself from bursting into hysterical laughter. Killian keeps the apartment so warm that she didn’t bother to put on anything more than her sleep shorts and a t-shirt last night before going to bed, and she’s regretting that now with every shift over her body over the countertop. But Killian is warm, especially when he steps in between her thighs and she hooks her ankles around his back right over his ass, and every touch of his fingers, gentle and teasing, brings a little more fire to her body.

Especially if he’d stop trying to tickle her while hotly running his tongue down the side of her throat and leaving open-mouthed kisses there.

He’s particularly good at those, and she could spend day after day close to him as he covers her body with affectionate words and delicate brushes of lips that turn into more.

Really, that’s been the last two months, even with her having to wear that atrocious cast for most of it, but they found simple ways to fix that. Being apart and not having those beautiful blue eyes to look into or that laugh to hear after a funny joke was absolutely torture, and having him back in her life, having him back as her person, is something Emma doesn’t ever want to take for granted again.

She will inevitably. It’s human nature. But she doesn’t want to.

Being with Killian is the easy thing. Fighting off the demons is what makes it difficult, but fighting off the demons and conquering them has made her realize that good things often come after struggles that seem impossible.

She’s a sentimental fool now, and she doesn’t care.

(Finding the engagement ring two weeks ago has made her even more sentimental.)

She especially doesn’t care as Killian’s tongue dips into her collarbone and his hands snake up underneath her shirt, warm palms against cool skin in a combination of which she’ll never tire. Emma knows that Killian is a sentimental fool now too. He was before, definitely more than her, but she can see all of the little ways he’s being more affectionate than he was before.

That’s saying something.

But his affection has been obvious lately. In the mornings, she always wakes to him curled around her, hand resting between her breasts and chin nuzzled into the back of her neck. That’s not how they sleep, not usually, so she knows that he does that when he wakes up in the morning while she’s still sleeping. He’s always touching her - hands intertwined, arm around her waist, ankles hooked together - like he’s looking for constant reassurance that she’s real.

That they’re real.

Killian has gone to war for her on multiple occasions, and she has seen the intensity and the fighting spirit that he possesses. She watched him break down over her accident and watched him absolutely vilify every single press association that was involved in that incident or any of the ones that have attacked her in the past or stolen private information from her. She’s watched him deal with the Neal interviews that seem to keep coming despite their falsities, and she’s watched him do absolutely everything that he can to protect her.

Emma never wanted protection or help. She thought that it made her weak to not be able to handle things on her own, but that was wrong.

All of it.

People are going to tell you who you are your whole life. You have to punch back and say “no, this is who I am.” If you want people to look at you differently, make them. If you want to change things, you’re going to have to go out there and change them yourself. Because there are no fairy godmothers in this world.

But there are supportive partners who punch back with you or stand to the side and cheer you on when you need it the most.

“I hate these bloody shorts,” Killian mumbles into her skin as the deep timbre of his voice vibrates down her spine. “I seem to both want you in them and out of them all at once.”

“That’s quite the conundrum you have going on, Jones.”

Killian chuckles before nipping at her jaw and pulling back so that she sees his eyes are blown black. “You are the conundrum, Nolan,” he softly says as his thumbs ghost over both of her nipples, slowly but surely bringing them to peaks. “It’s a funny thing. I seem to always want you. I want you in the mornings, at night, in the middle of the damn day…”

Emma hums while pleasure continues to curl between her thighs, and she wraps her arms loosely around his neck, playing with his hair and running the gemstone of her ring down the back of his neck. “Tell me more about this wanting me in the morning thing.”

The look on his face is positively dirty, and it’s exactly what she wants. So when his hands leave her breasts and move to take her shirt off, she stretches her arms in the air and allows him to undress her until the warm air of the heater is touching her skin. Killian shifts against her so that she can feel his length brushing against where she wants him, a perfect fit in a position that shouldn’t be comfortable, and she melts at his touch as the roughness of his unshaven scruff scratches against her neck and down her sternum to be between her breasts.

“You’re a damn temptress,” he mutters, voice deep and raspy with sleep still lingering. “I wake up and see the smoothness of your skin laid out before me, and my mind is only filled with thoughts of you. I’ve never wanted someone like this.”

“Funny thing, I feel the same way.”

“Do you now?” His fingers tug into her shorts and her underwear, and she lifts her hips as he pulls them down and off of her ankles so that she’s left bare before him, the marble chilling her skin has goosebumps pop up and spread over her.

“I do. Most definitely. You’re quite the catch.”

Killian laughs as he captures her lips, so soft and pliant and warm, with her own. There’s something to be said for kissing just for the sake of kissing, the feeling it sends through her body, and when Emma gently runs her tongue across his bottom lip, asking for entrance, he gladly grants it, tangling their tongues together in one of his favorite dances. She’s definitely picked a partner who knows what he’s doing.

Emma runs her hands through the hair at the nape of his neck and keeps her hand anchored there while the other runs up his spine, soft little taps of her fingertips against the bone underneath his shirt. They stay that way for awhile, lips moving together, until Emma’s hand leaves his hair to move underneath his shirt as well, pulling up at the material until he pulls back and tugs it over his head.

“I feel like we’re on a little bit more equal footing now. You were wearing too many clothes.”

“Was I? I hadn’t noticed. I was a little bit distracted by how unsanitary it’s going to be for us to fuck in the kitchen.”

“That’s literally never stopped you before.”

He huffs and leans forward to kiss her, slow and so impossibly thorough that she feels it all the way down to her toes. “I know,” he grins. “Are you okay up there, or do you want to move upstairs?”

“As long as you don’t hit my head into a cabinet, I’m fine.”

“You’re so beautiful, my love,” he whispers against her skin, kissing the tops of her breasts as her eyelids flutter closed and she recovers from the whiplash in the change of his tone. “I remember the first time I saw you, Emma,” he speaks into her skin as his nose drags along her stomach and arousal tugs at her belly. “You were – are so bloody gorgeous, the curls of your ponytail framing your face and the dark of your eyelashes looking down at me as you told me to get my soggy ass out of the booth.”

“I didn’t say that,” she protests, running her hand through the hair and tugging him down closer to where she’s desperately aching for her.

There’s something about the night that they met that Killian always thinks about. It’s a frequent remembrance, this conversation one they’ve had before, and Emma knows that in moments where Killian is nostalgic, where he’s thinking about how much she means to him, his mind goes back to that night and piecing together all of the circumstances for their meeting.

She doesn’t care how it happened. Just that it did.

No one was ever supposed to love her or treasure her like this. This wasn’t supposed to be how it is for her. She wasn’t supposed to get the good guy. It wasn’t in the cards.

Life has apparently decided to deal her a new hand altogether.

“But you were thinking it,” he whispers against skin, lips pressing against her small tattoo and lingering there. She thought getting that might be a mistake, that the desperation was too much, but over the past few weeks, Killian has held onto it like a glimmer of hope. She did the same. “You looked so frustrated with me, like how dare I walk into your pub in order to get out of the rain.”

“Shameful, really,” she teases, and when she opens her mouth to say something else, she can’t, her throat suddenly too tight to speak while the entirety of the English language escapes from her brain.

Killian’s hands hook around the back of her knees, and this time there’s no playful teasing. Instead, he spreads her legs further apart and bends down to his own knees. She’s about to make a joke about him not hurting himself, a tease over his twenty-ninth birthday last month and how dramatic he was over being nearly thirty, but then he’s kissing her exactly where she wants him, where she needs him.

His tongue drags roughly against her like a perfected routine, and Emma’s eyes tighten. She can’t bear to open them, but then she does and sees the dark mess of hair between the paleness of her thighs. Even more than that, she sees the blue of his eyes under the hood of his eyelid, and she wonders if today is going to be the day that this is all too much for her.

Never.

Killian shifts underneath her, his right hand leaving the curve of her knee to join with his tongue as he kisses her and kisses her and kisses her. Moans filter between them, hers and his, and the tension could be cut with one of the knives that’s in the drawer beneath her ass. It’s all too much - too much pleasure and want and love - and when he slips two fingers into her and curls them, she gasps out his name as a chant that never seems to stop.

“Magnificent,” he mumbles, the sound of his voice like liquid fire in her veins. “Bloody magnificent. Your noises, my darling. Fuck.”

There’s something about knowing that Killian is as affected by things like this as she is, even if he’s the one giving all of the pleasure, and that with the combination of his mouth moving over her bundle of nerves and his fingers moving within her as her falling apart little by little, like the waves cresting onto the shore.

Damn.

Killian presses a kiss to where she’s still fluttering before moving to her thigh, light touches that are nothing more than a blink, a whisper. When he rises from the ground, he grunts, probably from having his knees pressed into hardwood for so long, but she doesn’t think about that for too long when she can feel him hard against her and pressing into her thigh. “Mmm,” Emma hums, pulling herself up and tugging Killian closer to her so that she buries her face in his neck, kissing the straining cord. “You are wonderful.” “Ah, well, that tends to be your reaction after we do something like that.” “Are you fishing for compliments?” “Never.” She chuckles while he does the same, and even without looking, she knows that his eyes are crinkled, joy written across his face.

“Do you want to move upstairs or…”

“Upstairs. Definitely upstairs.”

They move quickly, neither of them in the mood to wait, and while it would have been faster to move to the couch in the living room, this is better. Killian falls back to the bed with laughter on his lips, and Emma immediately hooks her thumbs into his sweats and pulls them down as much as she can before he lifts his hips off the bed to help her out, kicking them off his ankles and onto the floor while she is busy kissing up his thigh, her hand running up his length, feeling the warm hardness in her palms.

“Emma,” Killian moans, voice gruntled. She smirks into his thigh and keeps her hand on his length.

“I am romancing you, Killian,” she promises against his lightning bolt scar before crawling up his body, peppering open mouthed kisses against the trail of his chest hair until she’s leaning over his mouth, her folds teasing him at their hips. “Like you do to me.”

“Darling - ”

“Your eyes, even blown black with desire like they are right now,” she whispers, circling her hips above him to lightly grind down, “are the most gorgeous blue I’ve ever seen.”

She touches his face then, running her fingers over his jaw. “I love your stubble, how it’s black with a little bit of red peppered in, and I love when you don’t shave for a few days and it’s full and just the right mix of soft and prickly. I love the way it feels when you rub it against my cheek in the mornings when you’re waking me up or how it feels against the inside of my thighs.”

She kisses his jaw, running her tongue behind her lips, and the grunt Killian makes curls as little bursts of fire down her spine.

“I love,” she says, running her hands down his biceps as she sits on his lap, right below where she knows he wants her, “the strength of your arms when you hold me, no matter what the occasion. And I love,” she moves her hands through the hair at his chest as Killian twitches beneath her touch, “this hair and how it pokes through the top of all of your shirts. I love the ways that your eyes crinkle when you’re truly smiling.”

I love that you love me enough to want to marry me, she thinks to herself before saying. “I love that you fight for me every day no matter the circumstances.”

She rises on her legs and scoots forward, guiding him to her entrance before slowly, slowly, slowly sinking down onto him. It’s a perfect fit. Maybe not physically, but emotionally, and Killian’s hands grapple for her hips, nails digging into skin. She doesn’t think he’s ever been this quiet for such a long period of time during sex.

“And mostly, at least for our purposes right now, what I love is the feeling of you inside me, thick and full and perfect.”

At that, she starts to move, rolling her hips against him, and it feels so goddamn good that her brief stint as the verbose one in the relationship has ended and Killian is the one to start muttering words of encouragement and curses that would have anyone blushing. She sets a slow, unhurried pace that she knows will draw out pleasure, but Killian doesn’t let her do that for long before he takes control of their movements, speeding up the pace as he thrusts up into her. She lets out a whimper as he hits the exact right spot, and Killian captures the next one with his mouth, kissing her like a man starved of affection and like it’s not ten in the morning.

Suddenly, Killian grabs her hips and rolls them over to change their position, his body encasing hers. He mutters a “bloody fuck” when she clenches her thighs to try to keep him from slipping out, and Emma throws her head back with laughter even if she shouldn’t.

Killian nips at her neck, but she can feel his smile too.

He must be able to tell that she’s getting close, rising higher and higher to her peak, because he releases her hips to grab her wrists, sliding his hands until their fingers are interlaced above her head. He tilts his hips so that his thrusts catch her clit. Her breath hitches and her legs wrap around his backside, and Emma might actually melt. She thinks that she has. Her limbs are all jelly, and Killian isn’t much better above her.

This is ridiculous. Absolutely ridiculous.

There are a million things they should probably do today, but they never seem to move away from bed besides getting food from the kitchen. That’s what she’d been trying to do this morning when Killian distracted her, but she’s not going to complain. This is good and nice and Emma could wrap herself in these blankets and in Killian for the rest of time.

When she wakes later, it’s to the slap of a hand to her skin, and Emma immediately flinches and jolts up, blinking into the darkness.

“Ow, shit, Killian. What was that for?”

“I was just making sure you’re here,” he mumbles, voice groggy.

“By slapping me?”

“Killian,” a voice says, and Emma realizes that Killian is on the phone. He might not even realize he’s on the phone. “Killian are you there? “Killian, have you heard a single word I’ve said?”

Liam. He’s talking to Liam.

Holy shit. Why is Liam calling him in the middle of the night?

“I’ll be honest, no. I’m still mostly asleep.”

“Asleep my ass,” Emma mumbles before reaching over to put the call on speaker phone so she doesn’t have to keep straining her ears to hear him. Killian grumbles something, but she ignores him as she settles herself underneath his arm. “Liam, what’s wrong? Is everyone okay?”

“Elsa is in labor, and we sent all of our nannies home for the night. Can the two of you watch Alex for us?”

“Of course,” Emma sighs. “Bring him over when you guys leave, okay?”

“I will, lass. Thank you.”

“It’s not a problem,” Killian promises, finally waking up. “Congratulations, brother.” At that, the line goes dead, and Emma immediately moves to get out of bed only for Killian tugs her back into him. “Where do you think you’re going?”

Emma raises a brow and motions down to the distinct lack of clothes on both of their bodies. “I know Alex is about to have a sibling, which is definite proof of his parents having sex, but I don’t want to be the one to have to explain why his uncle was having a naked sleepover with me.”

“Really? You don’t want to explain sex to a toddler? Shocker.”

She huffs and leans forward to brush her lips over his forehead. “Congratulations on being an uncle again, babe.”

Emma hears his swallow as his head nods up and down in affirmation. “Thanks, love. Let’s go put on some clothes so we don’t scar the lad.”

-/-

The next chapter is technically the last official chapter. How is that even possible? Thank you all for coming along for this ride ❤️

tag list: @mrtinski @klynn-stormz @jonirobinson64 @snowbellewells @therealstartraveller776 @thejollyroger-writer @sherifemma @shardminds @captainsjedi @galaxyzxstark @galadriel26 @idristardis @karenfrommisthaven @teamhook @spartanguard @searchingwardrobes @itsfabianadocarmo @owlways-and-forever @jamif @shireness-says @ultimiflos @nikkiemms @resident-of-storybrooke @onepunintendid @bluewildcatfanatic @397bartonstreet @killianswannn @carpedzem @captainkillianswanjones @mayquita @jennjenn615 @onceuponaprincessworld @a-faekindagirl @scientificapricot @scarletslippers @xellewoods @ultraluckycatnd @stahlop @kmomof4 @tiganasummertree @singersdd @captainswanbigbang

#what a wicked game #cs fic #cs ff #cs fanfic #captain swan fic #captain swan ff #captain swan fanfic #csrt #captain swan rewrite a thon #captain swan

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silverarmedassassin · 5 years

Text

Come Back to Me // Part Two

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Word Count: 2084

Warnings: Mentions of a car accident, traumatic brain injury, and memory loss. this is going to be pretty angst heavy throughout.

A/N: Feeling a little meh about this part. It’s too early in this process to be hitting writer’s block, lol. I’ll blame the current state of life and my decreasing motivation to do anything.

Thanks for reading! Feedback is welcome :)

Come Back to Me Masterlist // Masterlist

Slowly but surely, the wires and tubes start disappearing. By your fifth day awake in the Compound, all but the heart monitor and a few electrodes are carted away from your room. Dr. Banner reassures you daily that you’re making “great progress,” and that, hopefully, your memory will return to normal soon. You’re still not sure what that means.

You sigh as you look towards the holoscreen Dr. Banner had installed in your room to occupy your time. You had access to thousands of T.V. channels from across the world and a seemingly endless supply of movies to watch, but you never took advantage. Instead, you kept a live feed of the Compound grounds on. Tony Stark had had a few of the security cameras’ feeds rerouted so you could have some kind of window to the outside world.

Between your bouts of unconsciousness and mindlessly watching the outside, members of the Avengers would trickle in from time-to-time. You’d met almost everyone on the team, even members you’d never knew existed. But, while you enjoyed getting to meet and know each of them, you’d found comfort in just a few.

Steve, of course, was at the top of your list. The super-solider had made a habit of visiting you daily, usually multiple times a day. He’d bring a meal and a deck of cards and spend hours telling you stories. He talked about everything - life growing up, his experience in the war. He talked about it all, but he would always tread lightly when the Soldier, Bucky you would remind yourself, was brought up.

You hadn’t seen Bucky since that first day, at least not fully. When Steve would stop by, you’d often catch a glimpse of the man just outside your door. You’d sometimes hear him talking with Banner after the doctor came to check on you, but Bucky never made it in the room. And for that, you were grateful.

The others didn’t mention him much, only Sam on occasion. But it was usually in an off-hand, humorous kind of way. That made you like Sam. Unlike Steve, he didn’t talk about Bucky like he placed the sun in the sky. You understood Steve’s fondness, remembered that they were childhood friends despite it all, but it still left a bad taste in your mouth. With Sam, though, it was jokes and conversations about learning to cope with this new, unfamiliar life you’d woken up in.

“Knock knock,” a voice sing songs from the doorway, drawing you from your thoughts. You look over to find Wanda with a large container of take-out in her hands. You can’t help the smile that spreads across your face.

Wanda had quickly become another comfort during your time. She was caring, witty, and overall a great person to talk with. Aside from Steve, she spent the most time down with you. When it was announced you were awake and able to see visitors, she promptly brought you down a pair of pajamas and a decent stack of clothing so you wouldn’t have to lie around in the uncomfortable hospital gown.

“I figured you might be hungry, so I brought you a little something,” Wanda says as she moves to sit in the chair next to your bed. “How are you feeling today?”

You smile weakly. “Tired. My head kind of hurts, but I’m okay.” You shrug and take the container from Wanda’s outstretched hands. “You haven’t seen Steve, have you? He usually stops in by now.”

“The team got called out this morning. A few others and I stayed behind to man the Compound and take care of you,” Wanda smiles and winks. She knew how much you hated being doted on.

You and Wanda sit and eat lunch together. She’s in the middle of a story about her brother when there’s a soft knock on the door. When you turn, you find Dr. Banner’s smiling face peeking in through the crack.

“You’re awake,” he exclaims as he shuffles in, holopad in hand. “I’m glad. I have some news for you.”

Bruce brings over the roller chair, the only normal, doctor-like piece of furniture to be found in the high-tech room, and sits. “I’m pleased with the amount of progress you’ve been making. Brain activity is back in the normal range, your ribs are healing nicely, and your vitals have been steady. To the point where I feel comfortable releasing you from the medical wing.”

You perk up then, looking from Bruce to Wanda with a wide smile on your face. “I can go home?”

It’s not that you didn’t enjoy being at the Compound. The food was great, the company was even better, and, despite it all, you felt more relaxed than you had in years. But you were starting to get stir-crazy. You missed the routine of day-to-day life.

“Well, not exactly,” Bruce takes his glasses off and slips them on top of his head. “While I’m comfortable with you not being monitored twenty-four-seven, I would like to keep an eye on you, just until your memories return.”

“If they return,” you grumble.

“But,” Bruce ignores your offhand comment, “I’ve already talked with Tony about you staying, and he set up a room for you. It’s far more comfortable than this sterile place, and you’ll have an actual window to look out instead of a screen.”

“It’s right by mine and Steve’s,” Wanda says reassuringly as a grimace settles on your face.

“That’s nice and all,” you say, “but what about my life? Rent? My classes? I can’t just abandon everything.”

The duo shares a look before Bruce speaks. “You’re...you graduated two years ago. You don’t remember that?”

“Of course I don’t remember!” you shout. “I don’t remember anything. And it turns out I don’t even remember myself.”

You bury your face in your hands before they can see the tears in your eyes. It wasn’t right to shout, but you’re so frustrated and upset about the situation that it just happened. All you wanted was to go back to the city, see your friends, and return to normal life - whatever that looked like for you now.

Graduated? Two years ago? Exactly how much were you missing?

>>>

Dr. Banner was right, the room they set up for you was much nicer than where you were staying prior.

After your mini-meltdown, Bruce and Wanda explained that your expenses would be taken care of back home and that they’ve already been in touch with your boss. Apparently, he’d been very understanding of the situation. Wanda then wheeled you through the seemingly endless halls of the Compound pointing out various offices, rooms, and common areas before getting to your room.

It was definitely better than the medical ward room, twice the size even. Despite the ultra-modern design, it felt homey. Wanda informed you Steve and Sam had gone to your apartment in the city to grab some of your personal belongings so you didn’t feel so out-of-place.

It was nice seeing your favorite blanket draped across the bed and a stack of books on the nightstand. You can’t help but wonder if you’ve already read them or not. Wanda doesn’t leave you much time to think about that, though, as she is intent on showing you around your spacious living space.

The bathroom looked like it belonged in a space station and, if it weren’t for Wanda showing you, you probably would never have figured out the shower. She even showed you the closet, which was stocked, allegedly, with your own items.

“Why are you all being so nice to me?” you ask as you try and make yourself comfortable on the edge of the bed. “You don’t even know me.”

Wanda smiled sadly before coming over to sit next to you. “Oh, Y/N.” She wraps you up in a hug and doesn’t offer a proper explanation. “Why don’t you get some rest and we’ll talk more later?”

As she makes her way from the room, you realize how tired you’re actually feeling. Maybe a little nap wouldn’t hurt.

>>>

It’s not until several hours later that you wake up. By how dark it is in your room, you can tell it’s well into the night. Your mouth is bone dry, and you contemplate if it’s worth getting up to get something to drink when your stomach growls. That settles it.

As you carefully slide out of bed, you check the illuminated alarm clock that’s set on the bedside table. 2:15 a.m. When Wanda showed you around earlier, you didn’t see any of the other Avengers, so you assumed it was only Wanda, Bruce, and you at the Compound. Hopefully, you think, neither is still awake.

You decide to forego the wheelchair that Bruce had insisted you use when you came up to the room. The kitchen wasn’t too far, after all. You make your way down the dimly lit hall as quietly as you can. You don’t hear anyone else or see any lights on, so you figure you’re the only one awake.

Your stomach rumbles again as you get to the kitchen. Wanda hadn’t actually shown you where anything was, so you rummage through the cabinets before finding a few cans of soup. You grab a few to get a better look at your options.

“You’re up late,” a deep voice says from behind you.

You jump and drop one of the cans of soup onto the floor, startled from the unexpected guest. You turn to find Bucky standing on the other side of the kitchen island, watching you intently. He only breaks eye contact when he bends to pick up the can of soup that rolled across the kitchen.

“Wa-Wanda said I could help myself,” you say as he makes a face at the soup. “If it’s yours I’ll replace it, I promise.”

“No, it’s fine,” Bucky laughs, setting the can on the island. “But this stuff is awful. Wanda made spaghetti for dinner, have some of that.” Your eyes never leave him as he walks over to the fridge and pulls out a large bowl before also setting it on the counter and sliding it over to you.

“Thanks,” you say quietly as you peel back the cling wrap and place it in the microwave behind you. You close your eyes and take a deep breath to try and calm yourself. You felt uneasy having your back to Bucky, but it felt safer than having a staring match with the assassin. Ex-assassin, you remind yourself.

“Wanda wanted to wake you up for dinner, but I told her not to. Figured you needed the rest,” Bucky says. You turn slightly to look at him and offer a small, forced smile. You just wanted him to go away. When he starts rummaging around for a bowl and cereal, you realize he’s probably not going anywhere anytime soon.

“When did you guys get back?” you ask quietly as you turn back to the microwave.

“What? Oh, no I sat this one out. But the team isn’t back yet, part of the reason I’m up.”

To distract from the looming figure across the room and the knot in your stomach, you start going through the many draws looking for a fork. Bucky must catch on because, a few moments later, a fork is being slid across the sleek counter in the same manner as the bowl of spaghetti had been.

“Top drawer next to the fridge,” he says. You can hear the smile in his voice.

The fact Bucky was being so nice, so generous was confusing to you. When you looked at or thought of him, all you could see was the silver-armed assassin who literally destroyed an entire block of D.C. and nearly killed his best friend. Making sure you were rested and fed was the last thing you’d ever imagined from him.

With the microwave beeping, you quickly grab the fork and bowl without letting it cool. You’d had no intention of eating in your room but staying out in the kitchen with Bucky was too uncomfortable. You thank him again and quickly shuffle back towards the hall your room is in.

“Hey Y/N?” Bucky calls from where he’s seated at the island. You stop and wait for him to continue. “I’m glad you’re okay. Really.”

You don’t turn, only nod and continue down the hall. You try to ignore the churning in your stomach as you do so.

>>>

Tags: @tricksterwinchester @themarveledwriter @numwoon44 @wonderlandmind4 @basicjetsetter @igothroughphasesalot

#bucky x reader #Bucky Barnes x reader #bucky/reader #Bucky Barnes/you #Bucky Barnes/reader #bucky x you #marvel #marvel fanfic #marvel x you #marvel x reader #marvel/reader #marvel/you #mcu #marvel cinematic universe #bucky barnes #captain america #bucky fanfic #Bucky Barnes fanfic #Jen writes things

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traincat · 4 years

Note

I like MCU Spider-Man, but I agree with nearly all of your critiques. The 3rd film will have the same director and writers, so I don't expect the problems to be fixed, but I'm curious: do you think MCU Spider-Man is salvageable? If you could be completely in charge, how would you write the story and fix the problems?

Yeah, I don’t really expect the problems to be fixed in the third film, no matter how many times they promise it’s going to be something “different.” If I’m honest, besides the incredibly weak scripts, I think a big part of the problem is that Jon Watts is a bad director for a Spider-Man project. Which, to be fair, I think is actually why he was hired – he’s got a pretty short list of credits under his name. I mean, “Cop Car”? “Clown”? Nothing about his repertoire suggests he was going to give the studio the kind of artistic pushback they have a history of receiving from their more experienced directors. He’s basically the director version of Jell-O – easy to mold and bland to boot. The perfect guy to direct a car commercial I mean mainstream superhero film.

This is actually part of the reason I’m disappointed that the Sony-Marvel rights deal ended up sticking after all. I think that if the film rights had reverted entirely back to Sony, there might have been some damage control. We know that they intended to keep Tom Holland, if not the whole cast, for at least one more movie even if the rights had reverted entirely back to Sony so I don’t really get what the raising of arms was about. The rights reversion would’ve cut the apron strings with the rest of the MCU which would have been good, forcing both this Spider-Man to stand on his own two feet within his own narrative and also forcing the movie to focus solely on Spider-Man and on his cast. Sony’s recent Spider-Man films as of the time of writing this (I no idea what the hell they’re gonna do with Morbius and I don’t really care) have dealt with some element of “corporations are evil” – Oscorp pulling the strings in TASM/2 and Venom’s whole entire deal – and I would really like to see this version of Spider-Man be thrust into a plot where that’s the reality and that’s something he has to deal with and where he’s actually forced to defend normal people not just against a costumed villain with a grudge but against an entire system that is set up to exploit and abuse the vulnerable. I think that would have gone a long way towards if not fixing the damage inflicted upon the narrative, then at least course correcting it for the future. But that’s not happening now so whatever.

I find it kind of hard to think of what I would do if I was handed complete control of MCU Spider-Man with the caveat that I had to go forward using the two previous films as my background just because I dislike so many of the choices they made so much. On the other hand, I do like money and inflicting my own opinions on a captive audience, so. I think I would want to scale back the stakes a lot – keep Peter in New York for the entirety of the movie’s plot and film mostly there if at all possible. I would want to cute the ties to all Iron Man cast members so sorry, Jon Favreau, but you’re out, while at the same time redirecting the film’s focus into something more oriented in Peter’s civilian community. Bringing in a character like Leo Zelinsky, a Holocaust survivor who works as a tailor specializing in super-clients, would be a really good way to give Peter and the audience a personal connection to Peter’s Queens community while also tying this Peter back to the Jewish subtext of Spider-Man, and it could work in a plot where cut the Iron Man cast – this Peter isn’t an experienced craftsman when it comes to creating his own costume, so bringing in Leo Zelinsky would make sense, and a costume created by the both of them could be quite meaningful if it was played out well.

I would definitely want to give May Parker much more screentime and rework her relationship from the “big sister” role (the writers’ words, not mine) to that of Peter’s mother, someone who realistically worries about the dangers of Spider-Man but also provides a strong moral backbone for him. I’d want to establish the exact circumstances of Ben’s death – I don’t know exactly what I’d do, but given this Peter’s development has failed to track with most other Peters I would definitely want to switch Ben’s death up somehow to kind of shed some light on that. Peter and May would have to talk about him. I would definitely want to bring Peter’s classic college friends group closer together, starting with Peter and Flash since I really like Tony Revolori as an actor. I find this MJ to be an incredibly inscrutable character, and not in a good way, so I’d want to shed some better light on her, her family circumstances, and what makes her tick. I’d bring Liz back and give her some of her comic counterpart’s fire (perhaps literally, given Ultimate Liz’s Firestar status) and also I’d get Betty’s actress a brunette bob stat. There would definitely be a bigger focus on women and on Peter navigating complicated friendships with women, not just letting him have a romantic interest and that’s the end of that. I’m very conflicted on what to do with Ned Leeds because I think Jacob Batalon has some of the best screen presence of that cast, but I find it hard to get past the “Ganke Lee with a minor Peter antagonist’s name pasted on him” aspect of the character. Honestly? I might rework Ned’s role to go full villain, skipping directly to the Hobgoblin with the shadow of the Green Goblin and the Kingpin behind him. That would solve my problem of wanting to give Batalon massive amounts of screen time and a big role but absolutely detesting the reworking of Ned Leed’s into the best friend sidekick position. I would say I’d want Ned to then have a romantic subplot with a young Richard Fisk, who would be here for some reason (it’s not like it’s the worst continuity crime the MCU would have ever committed) but I don’t want yet another Disney’s first ever gay character spotlight moment to be given to the villains, so. It would take some finangling. Maybe I would reinvent Aunt May’s one time fiance Nathan Lubensky as a woman so we’d have some nice balance.

And we defend not one single bank within the movie.

Alternatively, I go mad with the power and reveal that this entire cast is made up of clones created by the Jackal, thus explaining all the Ben Reilly-inspired costumes, and subject everyone to my five movie Clone Saga adaptation dreams.

What I would really want to do given full creative control and being told I could wipe the slate clean and restart Spider-Man within the MCU, no questions asked, would be to have Peter as a retired superhero who was active underground years and years before Iron Man or the Avengers were ever on the scene, and have his daughter Mayday be the young teenage Spider-Man of the MCU, someone fresh and new who carries her father’s legacy while living in a world saturated by the Avengers legacy.

Or I’d just kill Peter and bring in a great team to do a Miles movie. I maybe think about this theoretical where I can get my claws into things a lot.

#*replies #traincat talks comics #traincat talks homecoming #mcu critical/#Anonymous

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prcphetess · 4 years

Text

greetings ladies, theydies, n gaydies ! it’s officially pride month / my birth month which means my power and chaos are both at their absolute highest so i apologize in advance :/ ANYWAY i’m hannah, i’m twenty but only for a couple more weeks, i’m kickin it in the est, n i use she/her pronouns ! now onto what you’re all here for ...

enter LOURDES CLEMONTE .

her app / bio are kind of Wild Rides but if ur in the business of reading i did send her app in the discord server n i also have Just her bio linked on her navigation tab as well as a stats page !! but i’ll try my best to summarize all the important stuff here !

also before we get started .. a quick TW for child loss, non-descriptive mentions of grooming, sexual harassment/assault, abuse, car crashes, n death and i THINK that’s everything

HISTORY.

it all started w her dad .. leopold clemonte.. in summary: fuck that guy !

he’s a hot shot author turned movie writer man but in order to gain all of his success he had to make a series of shady deals w none other than our petty king apollo

deal #1 was the life of her twin brother :(

deal #2 was her mother’s sanity aka she became like.. a ghost essentially who no longer speaks or interacts w anyone it’s very sad

deal #3 was meant to be lourdes

now to backtrack a minute, our girl lou went to school to become a playwright bc her whole life she was desperate to make herself seem worthy to her father n unfortunately leopold knew this and used it to his advantage when apollo demanded he pay off his debt

leopold essentially groomed her to please apollo and promised that she would have a hand in his business forever if she could do tht so she was like okay :)

until .. apollo’s price got too high... u know... n she dared to say no and for that she was Punished

aka cursed

but more about that later

anyway bc she royally pissed off apollo by rejecting him, leopold ALSO lost all his help in being famous and had to turn to a famously wealthy family in california known as the grimaldis

in order to get them to fund him, he forced lourdes to marry their son brooks who was Not A Nice Man

2 years into their marriage brooks died in a car accident tht lou Might have caused.. for legal reasons i can neither confirm nor deny whether tht happened but the police didn’t charge her so do with tht what you will

but she kind of went on the run anyway bc post-curse her doctors were like “nah this bitch is straight up crazy” and she knew her dad wasnt gonna b happy with her for another deal going sour so .. she ran ! and she’s kinda been hotel hopping between towns for the last 3 years trying her best not to interact w anyone !

CURSE.

lou’s curse is all abt prophecy baby !

okay so basically she can see the future of things/objects via touching them which was a whole big symbolic thing in the app bc she “deceived” apollo w her hands .. idk man here’s the line from the bio tht says it best

he binds her wrists and says because it was your hands you used to lie , now your hands will see the truth as he renders her incapable of touching anything or anyone without foreseeing an imminent doom . you will see but never be seen , he says . you will hear but never be heard .

ofc in true cassandra style, if she tries to talk to anyone abt her curse ever it’s like the earth swallowed her whole.. nobody can hear her.. nobody can see her.. nothing..

she also has absolutely no idea how to control it at all so like sometimes they’re very vivid images of something going to happen sometimes theyre more like bad feelings abt things .. it’s like a fun game where she never knows whats gonna happen and the prophecies ruin her life !

another quote bc im too lazy to resummarize things

the general rule of thumb , however , is that the smaller the vision , the easier it is to see clearly . small - scale or individual prophecies — like her university president having a heart attack — are generally more easy to distinguish . in comparison , the years of anguish that brooks would later cause her were much harder to pin down and presented themselves more as a more general sense of danger .

the only way she can stop it is with a literal.. physical barrier so she sometimes wears gloves but she can only have them on for a small amount of time before her body starts to reject it and make her Physically Unwell so she has to pick n choose man its unfortunate

EXTRA INFO.

man homegirl is Lonely.. big time... she’s just been avoiding human contact for such a long time she’s ALONE !

she has 2 major scars from the car accident, one on her left cheek from the windshield and one down her right shoulder/bicep from the window and both are very much noticeable :(

she very much loves this small town feeling bc she loves to b invisible and it’s so easy to in sleepy nowhere towns like this

she lives off the database property in like .. a tiny run down house that she’s putting all her time and energy into fixing up n she likes it a lot bc she hasnt had a home of her own in a long time

she also has a black cat named ernest, named after the play the importance of being earnest by oscar wilde

she’s also been working on a PLAY for the last few years, it’s a greek-esque tragic “romance” between the sun and the moon, where the sun is based on apollo and the moon is based on her and it does end with the sun realizing tht the moon is the only person w the power to eclipse him and extinguish him so get fucked apollo !

also speaking of writing she writes a letter home to her mom once every couple of months even tho like .. she can’t really read.. it’s very sad, lou is very sad, thank u for listening

ok this is already like .. stupid long.. so im gonna call it a day WHEW but thank u for reading n i think i’ve honestly already plotted w most of u but feel free 2 like this anyway n i’ll either slide into ur dms either to plot or just to say hey KSDJFSK :)

#curseintro #yes i have recently binged hollywood #yes i will b using only hollywood gifs #no i will not be taking constructive criticism abt it #YEET !

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exhaustedfander · 4 years

Text

First Comes Love: Chapter Nine

Word Count: 4,571

a03 link

Link to previous story in the series: When is Enough Enough?

1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6 / 7 / 8 / 9 / ?

Summary: Remus and Roman do what they can to comfort Patton. Tears are shed, emotions run high, and Remus realizes, among other things, that he is fully capable of comforting his friends.

Tw: Homophobia/homophobic parents

Remus couldn’t help but feel like a fish out of water, sitting in his car in front of Janus and Patton’s apartment complex, waiting for Roman to arrive. That had always been a very striking metaphor to him; the idea of a fish flopping around on dry land, desperate for water it can no longer reach, drowning on oxygen. It was something that would usually amuse him quite a bit. It didn’t now.

Comforting was a word very few people would use to describe Remus. Crude? Yes. Intrusive, impulsive, and strange? Oh, absolutely. But comforting? Logan might use such a descriptor, but that was only because he saw such a gentle side of the writer. Remus hadn’t always been the best at dealing with his own shit, so the issues of those close to him were something he was no expert with. In fact, he handled such issues with no poise at all, as far as he was concerned.

There had been many instances in which Logan had assured him that he’d made him feel better and provided him solace, but that was different. Remus was soft with Logan by default, something he’d never really known how to be with other people.

So, yeah, he could comfort Logan most of the time without panicking. But Patton? He wasn’t so sure.

Remus was thankful to have his panicking interrupted when he heard a tap on the car window and turned to see Roman on the other side with a grocery bag in hand. Remus opened the door and stepped out.

“Hey bro,” Remus said, knowing instantly how deflated his voice sounded. Remus set his bag on the pavement, scooping Roman into a tight hug. For a moment, Remus was thrown off before simply sinking into the embrace of his twin, knowing he was trembling just slightly.

“Hey, how are you doing?” It felt wrong to be asked that, all things considered, but Remus supposed it made sense. Roman had been expecting him to be an engaged man by today just as much as he had.

“I’m fine,” Remus lied, poorly, but Roman was hardly in a position to argue against him, “Don’t worry about me right now.”

“Virgil and I would be more than happy to do a redo party later if you want. I know you came so close to… well, it just feels like you got so cheated out of your fairytale ending and I’m sorry,” Roman said as he pulled away. Remus shook his head, touched by his brother’s offer, nonetheless.

“Like I said, man, let’s not worry about me right now. And I couldn’t ask that of you again; it isn’t your guys’ fault. So,” Remus said, the image of a fish out of water still persistent in his mind, a goldfish that leaped out of its tank only to die writhing on the carpet, “What’s in the bag?”

“Cookies, ice cream, all kinds of goodies,” Roman explained, picking the paper bag up off the floor, “I dunno, I figured a little junk food couldn’t hurt right now.” Remus nodded approvingly.

“Good call.” Concern flashed in Roman’s eyes. Remus cursed himself silently; absolutely everything about him was probably giving away how nervous he felt.

“Are you ready for this?” Remus wanted to say yes with the utmost confidence. He wanted to assure him that he was more than prepared for whatever this might entail, but that would be a blatant lie.

“No,” he said, shaking his head. The worry in Roman’s eyes deepened. “No, I’m not cut out for this shit at all, making people feel better and all that. But… I’m gonna try. Logan encouraged this and if he says I can do this, then fuck it, I’m just gonna hope he’s right. He usually is.”

“Oh, Remus,” Roman said, his voice too soft for Remus’s liking, too kind, “Of course you can be comforting. You’re rough around the edges, and a real pain in the ass sometimes, but that doesn’t make you a bad friend. And you aren’t alone, either. We’ve got this, both of us.”

Roman said it with such confidence, as though it was obvious that Remus would be able to handle this. Remus couldn’t tell if his brother was really that proficient of an actor that a lie could come out so believable, or if he meant it with the utmost sincerity. Remus sincerely hoped it was the second option. He took a deep breath, nodding, not so much in agreement, but more of a hope that one day he’d be able to agree.

“I hope you’re right. Think this is gonna stir up some shitty childhood memories?” Remus already knew the answer, but that didn’t stop him from asking. Roman shuddered.

“Oh, definitely. This is gonna suck, a lot. But Patton’s our friend, and we owe it to him to be there for him, no matter how bittery, jittery, and less-than-glittery it makes us feel.” Despite the nonchalance he presented, there was fear in Roman’s voice, a kind Remus hadn’t heard from him in such a long time. It was scary, realizing even Roman, the greatest pretender he knew, couldn’t hide how horrible everything felt. At the same time, knowing he felt the same provided Remus very much some twisted sense of comfort. He wasn’t alone, not at all, and together they were going to try their best to get through this.

The twins walked up to the door together, shuffling anxiously once Remus had rapped on the door. It opened, revealing Janus whose eyes shone with relief when he caught sight of them.

“Thank you two so much for coming,” he said, not an ounce of his usual sarcasm in his tone. Neither twin had ever seen Janus in such a state, looking so tired and so, so worried. Patton brought out a much softer side in him then he cared to expose, and at this point, he didn’t know how to shut it off. Patton was Janus’s angel, and his angel was in worse shape than he’d been in a very long time, something that Janus couldn’t miraculously fix, no matter how much he desperately wanted to.

“How’s he doing?” Roman whispered as they walked into the apartment, not sure how near Patton was and not wanting him to hear them talking about him. Janus shook his head, running a hand along the side of his face, the side with the jagged scar he’d had since he was a kid that Remus couldn’t recall the origin of. If it weren’t such a somber instance, he might’ve flipped his shirt up and pointed at his own marring, saying “EH, scar buds!” Needless to say, he didn’t do that.

“He’s devastated, of course,” Janus said with a sigh, matching Roman’s quiet volume, “I’ve never seen him so sad. I… I just don’t know what to say. I want to fix this for him, so much. More than anything, I want to give those sorry excuses for parents a piece of my mind,” Janus’s voice swelled with anger, the first spark of a fire that was sure to burn the apartment complex to the ground. Even so, the flames receded as quickly as they’d appeared as he shook his head, “But I know that wouldn’t do any good.”

“No,” Remus agreed sadly, “It really wouldn’t. I know the feeling, but at the end of the day, it makes things a lot worse.” Janus exhaled sharply, eyes landing on the grocery bag.

“What’s in the bag?”

“Some sweets,” Roman explained, handing it over, “I know it’s a little early for ice cream and cookies, but I figured it might cheer him up, at least a little bit.” A fracture of a smile interrupted Janus’s troubled features, though only for a moment.

“Thank you, Roman,” he said, “That was kind of you. Thank you both; I can’t express how thankful I am that you’ve offered to be here.”

“Of course,” Remus said, trying his hardest not to think of the goldfish.

“Where’s Pat?” Janus pointed in the direction of the living room.

“I’m sure you already know, but he’s very fragile right now. I know I’m probably being overprotective of him, but he –.”

“Hey,” Roman interrupted, his voice understanding and gentle, “It’s okay, Janus. We’ll go easy on him, promise. We just want to help.” That seemed to ease the tension in Janus’s shoulders somewhat as he nodded. Slowly, he walked into the living room and the twins followed behind him.

Patton was sitting on the sofa, a tissue box nearby that looked to have been almost completely used. He was wearing his Cat onesie instead of his usual polo shirt and cardigan, a sight that would usually be a joyous one. Patton loved to have everyone over for movie nights, insisting that they all wear onesies, which made it very reminiscent of sleepovers. Now, though, it was nothing more than a weak attempt at comforting himself. The sparkle in Patton’s eyes was replaced with dull, horrible heartbreak, and his cheeks were streaked with tear-tracks.

“Roman and Remus are here, Angel,” Janus said, his voice achingly soft as he pressed a kiss to Patton’s cheek. Patton looked at the twins standing in the doorway, the expression on his face impossibly sad.

“Hi, Roman… Remus. Sorry… I’m not feeling very much like myself,” Patton said slowly. His voice was so raw it made Remus think of someone swallowing shards of glass, cutting their way down his esophagus. He did his best to shake the thought from his mind.

“That’s okay, Pat,” Roman said, sitting down on Patton’s left side. Hesitantly, Remus sunk into the sofa on Patton’s right.

“I’m going to leave you boys, to it, but I’ll bring snacks out later,” Janus said hesitantly, looking like he wanted nothing than to stay glued to Patton’s side for the rest of time. Despite that impulse, he also knew he needed to give them space.

“Okay, Janny,” Patton said, watching as Janus disappeared into the other room. Patton sighed as his gaze met Remus's.

“Remus, kiddo, I’m so sorry… I made such a mess of you and Logan’s party.” The fact that even in his anguish Patton could still feel such responsibility for something he hadn’t been the cause of was heartbreaking. Remus shook his head quickly, clumsily taking one of Patton’s hands in his own.

“Hey, no. Don’t say that, Pattycake,” Remus said, hoping his sincerity was breaking through the barrier of fear that encased him, “You didn’t do anything wrong, and you certainly didn’t make a mess. It isn’t your fault, none of this is.” Patton nodded, though the tired expression he wore suggested he didn’t agree with Remus’s sentiment.

“But I still can’t help but feel –.”

“I know,” Remus interrupted, seeing the surprise in Patton’s pale blue eyes, “I know it feels like it might be your fault. But it really isn’t. Please, don’t blame yourself for your parent’s horrible actions.” Patton’s face crumpled at the mention of them, but Remus knew someone was going to have to get the words out for any progress to be made.

“Words are so hard sometimes…” Patton mumbled as Remus squeezed his hand gently, “There’s so much I want to say about them… but it’s just hard. Why does it have to be like that?”

“You can tell us anything you want,” Roman spoke up, placing a hand on Patton’s shoulder, the gesture just above a hover in case Patton pulled away. He didn’t. “And you don’t need to talk about anything that’s too much for you. We’re here for you, Pat, in anything you want to tell us. We know how it feels.” Patton nodded sadly, his eyes landing on his lap.

“I thought…” Patton began, his voice tender, “I thought for sure they were gonna come around. I mean, they said they would. They said a lot of things…”

“Of course you thought that,” Roman said, “That makes sense. They gave you a false sense of security.” Patton shivered.

“Not at first. When I came out to them t-they were so cruel. They called me sick, they said how much they wanted to help me, to fix me. But the things they offered… they… they were just gonna make me feel so much worse. It had been so hard to hide, and I was so sad, all the time, pretending.” Roman’s eyes flickered with understanding.

“I know how you felt,” he said, speech thick with twisted memories, “I pretended too. Throughout high school, I dated girls, I did everything I could to make people think I was straight. And it hurt, all of the time.” Patton nodded, a tear slipping down his cheek.

“It was hard,” he said with a sniffle, “I – just wanted to make my parents happy. I thought if I just kept pretending that eventually, I’d, I dunno, get used to it. But… I didn’t. It just felt worse and worse and I just felt like exploding all the time. So,” Patton sucked in a breath, “I told them. A-and they were so angry and hurt by it, it felt like I was something so terrible.”

“You aren’t,” Remus assured, “You’re nothing of the sort. I’ve known terrible people, I’ve had my moments of being terrible, and that isn’t you at all, Pat. You’re one of the best people I know.” Patton worried his bottom lip.

“I don’t know about that.”

“He’s right,” Roman said, “You’re a wonderful person, Patton. One of the very best life has to offer. You make everyone around you happy just by being you. There’s not a single terrible thing in you, and certainly not because your parents don’t approve of you going for princes rather than a princess.”

“I just… they started getting better after that,” Patton said, wiping at his eyes, “At least it seemed like it. They stopped talking about fixing me, they s-said they wanted to make things right. And when I started seeing Janus, well, I didn’t realize how unhappy I’d been before that. I didn’t know real happiness could feel so good. And t-they allowed me to bring him home, several times, a-and they told me they were trying. They lied – they lied to me over, and over again.”

“They did,” Remus said, the sorrow in Patton’s voice tearing him up inside so much he could almost forget about the goldfish completely, “They lied to you and I’m so sorry for that. They had no right to do that to you.”

“I don’t like lies… I don’t like it when people keep things from me. And the entire time they thought I was just gonna stop being gay one day,” Patton wept, “And t-then my mom told me that – that if I ever wanted to see them again t-that I couldn’t be with Janus anymore. They tried to take him away from me! H-how could they do that? How could they try to take my h-happiness away from me again? How can they be so cruel?!” Patton let go of Remus’s hand and threw his arms around Roman, burying his face in his shoulder. Roman accepted the hug quickly, rubbing circles into Patton’s back as he cried.

“I don’t know,” Roman said, the loss for words terrible, “I’m sorry I don’t have a better answer for you, Patton. I wish I did. But I just don’t know how anyone could do that to someone, much less their child.”

“What did you say to your mom when she told you that?” Remus asked after Patton had taken a moment to calm down. Patton scrubbed at his face, still leaning heavily on Roman.

“I – I said I couldn’t leave Jan. I told her he’s the light of my life, and that I love him, just like she loves my dad. For a second I-I thought maybe saying that would help, but it didn’t. Of course, it's d-didn’t. She just got angrier and angrier and i-it was too late for anything else. That was it. I-I can’t go back home. I can’t face them again,” a shudder ran through Patton’s spine as he continued, “I don’t want to. Not a-anymore.”

“I know this is horrible,” Remus spoke up, “And I wish I could say that it’s going to be all better right away. It isn’t. But I want you to know I’m proud of you for saying that. That you don’t want to go back. I know it’s so fucking hard, but that’s good, Pat. These are people who’ve hurt you for so long, and they don’t get to do that anymore. You never deserved that.”

“Janny kept telling me they were still hurting me,” Patton said with a sniffle, “He told me that they were being cruel, but I wouldn’t listen. I should have. I should’ve known…” Both twins shook their heads.

“No,” Roman said quickly, “Please don’t say you should’ve known. Pat, you don’t know how many times I told myself the very same thing. That I should’ve known my parents weren’t going to change, that hiding wasn’t doing anything but making me miserable. I promise you, saying that doesn’t do any good.”

“But I should’ve listened. He was right.”

“You were clinging to the hope that things were going to be alright,” Remus cut in, “It didn’t matter what Janus said, it wouldn’t have changed the fact that you had hope that you and your parents could mend the relationship. Don’t beat yourself up about that, it’s okay.”

“I just wanted everything to be okay,” Patton muttered softly, “I was so sure…”

“Things will be okay again, Pat,” Roman said, pulling Patton against him in a side hug, “Not right now, but eventually, I promise they will.”

“What made it okay for you guys?” Patton asked after a moment, the smallest fragment of hope present in his voice.

“Surrounding myself with good people was the biggest thing,” Roman said, “And you’ve got that. You have a partner who loves you so, so much. And friends who love you too. We love you, Patton, and we’re here for you.”

“We are,” Remus said with a nod.

Remus couldn’t help but let his mind wander for a moment, to a time years ago. He and Roman were nineteen when they’d been disowned, and shortly after that, they hadn’t been on good terms. Remus hadn’t thought about it in so long, now twenty-seven with incredible friends and the best boyfriend a person could ask for, but when he’d been abandoned by his parents, Remus had been alone. Not entirely, he’d had acquaintances along the way, partners who hadn’t stuck around long. But for the most part, he hadn’t had the good friends Roman had quickly gained. He hadn’t had Patton or Virgil. He hadn’t had Janus, Remy, or Emile. He hadn’t had Logan.

For so much of his time at home, Remus had known eventually he and his parents would cut ties for good. But remembering suddenly and vividly how truly alone he’d been hit him with immeasurable weight. “Surround yourself with good people,” Roman said now, but he didn’t. Not for years. Not until Logan.

He should’ve tried harder to fix things with Roman sooner, he thought to himself. He should’ve tried to forge stronger relationships. Should’ve, should’ve, should’ve. But should is a dirty word. “Should” made it seem like Remus had any idea the kind of hell he’d been putting himself through at the time. He hadn’t; he was dealing with all his shit in the ways he knew how. He didn’t have support then, he remembered, but he had it now. He had good friends, he had Logan, he had love. And thankfully, in this time Patton had that too.

“Yeah,” Patton said after a moment, “Yeah I do. I’ve got Jan, I’ve got you guys. I’m really, really sad… but I’m not gonna be sad forever, am I?”

“No,” Roman said, “You won’t. You’ll need time to heal, and it’ll hurt, but you’re gonna get happy again, Pat. And we’ll be here every step of the way.” Tears sprung from Patton’s eyes once more, this time not out of sadness alone, but also relief.

“I love you guys s-so much,” Patton blubbered, his arms winding around both twins. For a moment, Remus stiffened. Patton said, “you guys,” which meant both of them. Patton loved Remus. He hadn’t taken the time to consider it, the fact that a friend could love him, that Patton could love him.

He’d been so used to such kind words not being spoken in his presence before Logan, before love had dominated his life. But to think that this person, so wonderful and kind and full of light, had love in his heart for all of his friends, including him. Well, Remus thought his chest might just burst from how much sentimentality welled up in him. He returned the awkward embrace as quickly as he could manage, clinging to Roman and Patton.

“We love you too, Pat,” he said it was true. Remus loved his friend and his friend loved him. In retrospect, it was such a simple thing, not the kind to be scrutinized so closely but he couldn’t help it. Roman said he loved Patton too, but Remus’s ears were still ringing with the words. The sorrow of his long-time-loneliness wasn’t irradiated, but the joy that filled him served as a damn good distraction.

Suddenly, Janus reappeared from the kitchen holding a tray of the sweets that Roman had brought, setting it down and joining the three in the living room. Roman and Remus made room so that Janus could sit with Patton, who clambered into his lap and buried his face in his neck.

To call such a love sin defied all logic. So few loves rivaled this, so few were as soft, as touchingly gentle, as pure.

The group ate and talked, the tension that hung thick in the air dispersing little by little. It wouldn’t be gone completely for a long time, if ever, but it was lessening and that was all that anyone could hope for. It would take time, but Patton was going to be okay. It was obvious looking at him and Janus that his heart would not be void of joy. As horrible as it was to think about, Patton no longer being in contact with his parents would do him so much good in the end. They didn’t have their hooks in him like they used to, they couldn’t cause him any further suffering. Patton would grow without them, allowed finally and freely to be as happy as he deserved to be.

Remus and Roman bid the couple goodbye several hours into their stay, leaving the apartment together. As they walked to their cars, Roman stopped.

“I realize… I never properly thanked you, all those years ago.” Remus rose an eyebrow.

“For what?”

“For giving me the courage I needed to be myself,” Roman said with an appreciative smile, “You being so open and honest about yourself was the final push to me coming out. Without you… I don’t know when I would’ve been able to do it. So, thank you for that. I love you, Remus. I know we haven’t always gotten along, but you’re the best brother a guy could ask for as far as I’m concerned.”

After how emotional the day had been, it seemed that was the straw that broke the camel’s back. Remus sniffled, hugging his brother and thinking of the overwhelming amounts of love he’d been exposed to in the last few hours.

“Of course,” he said hoarsely, “Y-you’re welcome. I love you too, you loser.” Roman chuckled, the sound watery. At least Remus wasn’t crying alone.

“Are you okay, after all that?” Roman asked as they pulled apart.

“Not really,” Remus said. “You?” Roman laughed without much humor to it, shaking his head.

“No, I suppose not,” Roman replied sadly, “But I’m glad we did that. It seemed like it helped.”

“Yeah,” Remus said, still in a bit of disbelief, “It really did.” Roman shoved his shoulder lightly.

“And you were worried you weren’t gonna be able to help,” he teased,

“Look at how good you did! Grad A comforting skills.”

“Yeah, well, you helped a lot.”

“Well then we’ve both got Grad A comforting skills,” he said confidently, though the assurance felt a little forced, “You gonna be okay, though?”

"I’ll be fine,” Remus said, “Same goes for you. Head all full of shitty memories?” Roman nodded sadly.

“You know it. I’m going home and cuddling Virgil until I can push it out of my mind a little bit more. I haven’t thought about all this in quite a long time.”

“Sounds like a plan to me.” Roman quirked an eyebrow.

“Cuddling with my boyfriend sounds like a plan?” Remus barked out a laugh.

“That’s right, I’m moving in on your mans. My relationship with Logan was all a clever ruse to seduce Virgil all along.” Roman slapped a hand over his mouth.

“And to think! I was none the wiser! How dare you, sir? I’ll have you know I love that man more than life itself!” Roman said as dramatic as possible. Remus appreciated the attempt at being light-hearted.

“Seriously, though, I’m not allowing Logan to leave my arms when I get home because I feel like shit.” Roman nodded understandingly.

“Now there’s a sentiment I can get behind.” Roman paused for a moment before speaking again. “So… what’s your plan on becoming betrothed to our resident nerd?” Remus rubbed the back of his neck, sighing.

“Honestly, dude, I’ve got no fucking clue. But I’ll figure it out,” Remus said.

The prospect should’ve terrified him. He presently had zero plan as to how he was going to ask Logan to be his husband. But somehow, even after the deeply emotional day he’d had, he wasn’t scared. Remus wasn’t usually the person to assume that everything would work out somehow, but he couldn’t help but know it to be true. He loved Logan more than he’d loved anyone or anything else in his life. Logan had brought him so many good things in the short time he’d known him. He’d provided him the support, understanding, and love he didn’t know he’d been missing. He’d brought him wonderful friendships; he’d brought his brother back to him. Remus had nearly been killed by a car, and yet he’d lived, and Logan was still by his side. As far as he was concerned, Logan always would be.

“Well I wish you the absolute best of luck,” Roman said sincerely, “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have an emo to cuddle with.”

And with that, the two drove home. Roman to Virgil and Remus to Logan. Both brothers sought comfort in their boyfriends, still battling the demons of their past, demons they’d never truly be able to escape. And even still, they were met with just the love and understanding they needed, enough to keep the monsters at bay.

Remus would propose to Logan very soon, that he was sure of. But for now, he accepted his place in Logan’s arms, clinging for dear life and thinking only of the love that had become all-consuming, a chaos he embraced with open arms.

=+=

4 notes · View notes

electronicgrowth · 5 years

Text

Guardian Angel: Chapter 2

Leah receives lots of bad news.

Warnings: death, car accidents, mentions of injuries, mentions of surgery

WC: 1837

When I was sixteen my dad died. He was driving home from work late one night and a drunk driver hit him. I was at a sleepover when it happened. After a night of sugary drinks and disgusting junk food we passed out around two in the morning. We couldn’t have been sleeping for more than an hour, when I was shook awake by Charlie.

“You gotta come with me kiddo,” he said. In a sleepy haze I collected my things and followed him. He wouldn’t tell me what happened, but I knew something was wrong.

Finally, when he got me home and sat me down at the kitchen bar. I saw Ransom in my periphery, standing at the edge of the kitchen, leaning up against a wall.

“Dad was in an accident, Leah,” Charlie said tears were threatening to spill out of his large, green eyes, “He— he didn’t make it.”

I can’t describe the feeling of hearing a loved one has died. But it feels like everything is in a free fall. Like you know the impact has to be coming, the pain has to be coming, but it’s not here yet. I was shocked. And the shock stayed with me for a few moments. Then came the tears. And the screaming.

“It’s so unfair. Everyone else got two parents. Now I don’t have any. My mom didn’t want me. And my daddy left me! I don’t have anyone now!” I screamed and hit Charlie with all the force my sixteen year old body could muster. Ransom came up behind me and grabbed me. He spun me around and held my face.

His blue eyes were red and watery. He had also been crying. He just pulled me in and held me. I sobbed into his chest. He kissed my forehead and whispered, “I’ve got you Bunny Rabbit. I’ve got you.”

The weird thing about grief is how you can think about something completely unrelated in the midst of your breakdown. I remember being struck by how different Ransom’s hug felt, compared to all the other hugs he had given me. When I was a kid he hugged me all the time. But this was different. He had gotten stronger, more muscular. He looked like a man. He felt like how I imagined a man would feel like. How I had always hoped Ransom would feel when he hugged.

Eventually, I calmed down enough to shower and climb into my bed. It was near six in the morning, when I finally fell asleep. Ransom slept on my floor that night.

The funeral came and went in a blur. I was struck by how silly the funeral and visitation are. It felt performative. Why were Charlie, Ethan, and I forced to host all these people? Why did we have to pay for it? It wasn’t what I wanted to do, but social convention dictated that we do it.

Ransom was like glue through the whole process. He helped us plan, made sure we were eating and showering. He was a pallbearer at the funeral. And he cemented himself in between Charlie and I during the service. Him being there was enough to comfort Charlie. But half way through the service my grief was threatening to bring me to my knees. Ransom wrapped his arm around me and pulled me closer. He kissed my forehead to comfort me. He just held me close to him for the remainder of the ceremony.

Dad’s job as a public defender didn’t leave much money for us to work with. We sold the house we had grown up in and any furniture we could find it in us to part with.

Charlie had a place with Ransom in New York. And Ethan was already out in California at college. So, that left me effectively homeless. The judge ruled that I would be under Charlie’s guardianship until I turned eighteen, or went to college. So, I moved to New York.

I hated it there. It was so loud and I missed Boston with ever fiber of my being. I also refused to go to school. My dad’s death left me with a lot of anxiety that manifested in strange ways. One of which, was anxiety with large crowds and unfamiliar situations.

I couldn’t imagine having to ride a crowded bus or subway to school. Just to sit in a class of people I didn’t know. Charlie and I compromised. I would go to therapy, and he would let me do an online high school instead. I never had any of the boyfriends I had dreamed of having. I only ever met one boy I was interested in. He was a member of study group. I really liked him. His name was Brandon.

We would meet at the coffee shop and do our homework together. One day Ransom came early to get me, and caught us kissing. He flipped out, like I had never seen before.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” He yelled, grabbing Brandon by his collar.

“Ransom, calm down we were just kissing,” I said, while I tried to pry Ransom’s hands off Brandon.

“You listen to me you little snot nosed punk, if I see with 100 feet of this girl again I will fucking end you. You got me?” Ransom threatened. Poor Brandon nodded, and fearfully gathered his school supplies and raced out of the coffee shop.

“What the hell Ransom?” I screeched.

“Get your shit, I’m taking you home,” he said. When I didn’t move, he grabbed my books and notes and threw them into my backpack. He hauled me and my schoolwork out of the coffee shop.

“Ransom, I’m serious. What was that about?” I question.

“What?” He snarled, “You want to lose your virginity to that nobody?”

“What if I did? It wouldn’t be any of your business, Ransom,” I countered.

“Everything you do is my business Bunny Rabbit,” he said.

“You can’t protect me or control me forever Ransom. I’m going to grow up, and there’s nothing you can do about it,” I said brushing past him. We returned to our apartment, ignoring each other completely.

Of course, I was angry at Ransom, but if I was being honest with myself I was quite happy at the reaction that Brandon initiated in Ransom. Was he jealous? No, he couldn’t be jealous. He was twenty-six, I was sixteen. He slept with models, Brandon had been my first kiss. Even if he wasn’t strictly jealous, Ransom’s reaction bolstered my ego.

Eventually, the anxiety started to subside with the help of medication and therapy. I started doing yoga and meditating as well. Charlie was working crazy hours, but seemed to be handling the stress very well. Often, that left me with Ransom. He wasn’t into working a real job. And he didn’t have to since Harlan was footing his bills. He was working on his own writing. He confided in me that he always dreamed of following in his grandfather’s footsteps and becoming a writer. He made me promise to never tell anyone, not even Charlie. Ransom’s writing was amazing. He let me read excerpts and give notes on what I liked, or didn’t like. This arrangement was just temporary though. I was chomping at the bit to get back to Boston and go to college.

After getting my high school diploma, I opted to go to Boston College. The campus felt magical to me. All old buildings, and a library out of the movies. I was excited to pursue a degree in Literature. I wanted to work in publishing in some capacity, so I minored in business to strengthen my options. I flourished in college. Made friends, got decent grades. Kissed a few more boys, maybe did a little more than that. Well, did a lot more than that.

But life loves to throw curve balls. When I was twenty, Charlie died. The doctor said he had a mild heart arrhythmia that he never knew about. The cocaine forced him into heart failure. Again Ransom stuck to me like glue. Comforted me when Ethan didn’t. Helped me arrange everything. What surprised me the most was that Harlan came to the funeral. He had a hug for both me and Ransom.

After that Ransom moved home to Massachusetts too. He said New York was what Charlie wanted. There was nothing left there for him anymore.

I decided to take an extended leave from school. But really I spent my days in bed barely moving. Ransom quickly discovered that I wasn’t taking care of myself and forced me to move in with him until I was doing better. He made me shower and eat. And at least get out of bed, even if I was just moving to the living room. He let me pick our takeout every night and all our shows. He even let me watch shows he absolutely hated, with barely a breath of complaint.

He even started to apply pressure for me to go back to school. He insisted that I keep living with him while I got my degree. I worked my ass off but managed to graduate just one semester late. Ethan couldn’t be bothered to fly in to watch me walk, he was too busy out in San Francisco with his job. But there was Ransom, just like when I was little. With a big bouquet of flowers and the proudest smile.

I wasn’t fielding off job offers after graduation.

“I could talk to my grandfather, you know. He’s always liked you, I’m sure he knows of something at Blood Like Wine that would be a good fit for you,” Ransom told me.

“I appreciate the offer Ran, but I want to make it on my own,” I responded. Eventually, I got an unpaid internship at a small publishing company. It was mostly, getting coffee and stuff like that. I also worked a part time job as a receptionist to pay my bills.

I loved being on my own and being independent. Ransom bought his house near his grandfather around that time. I hoped that meant he was spending more time with Harlan. Hopefully, thinking about writing again.

One night I was driving home from my job. I started to round a corner, but as I pumped the brakes the car wasn’t slowing. I began to panic. I floored the brake, still nothing. My car careened off the road; I had attempted the turn, even without the aid of my brakes. My car rolled with a sickening crunch about three and a half times. Along with the crunches was a symphony of glass breaking. I screamed the whole time. The car stopped upside down. Leaving me dangling by my seatbelt. I managed to reach to the passenger side where my purse was. I struggled to stay coherent through the pain that had settled on my left side. I found my phone and dialed 911 before I passed out.

#ransom drysdale #Ransom Thrombrey #ransom drysdale fanfiction #ransom drysdale smut #ransom drysdale x ofc

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lovemychoices · 5 years

Text

RoD- Playing with Fire. CH2 (1/2)

Book: Ride or Die

Pairing: Colt x MC

Once upon a time, an angel fell for a devil and they called it true love. -J.P.D

Kaela Matsuo didn’t think she would fall in love with someone during her senior year of highschool it was the last thing on her mind but then she met Colt while hanging out with Logan and everything changed. After taking down Jason and saying their heartbreaking goodbyes will Kaela and Colt ever find a way back to each other again? And if they do are they ready to face new obstacles together?

Disclaimer : Characters except my OCs belong to Pixelberry, I am just borrowing them.

I’m not a professional writer, just someone with a creative outlet finding a way to express herself. (And trying to improve as I go.) Also sorry for the grammatical errors in advance, I like only double check my work once.

Word count : 2123

Chapter Summary: A heart breaking phone call and a broken Kaela.

A/N : Ha! Finally posted the second chapter of this series. Sorry I’m really bad at updating been busy with life and work stuff, what was thinking doing more than 1 series 🤷🏻‍♀️. This chapter will consist of 2 parts.

Big shoutout to @thecordoniandiaries and @client-327 for listening to my ramblings and throwing ideas around.

Rating : This is a PG-18 series, there will be Violence, NSFW and other PG-18 stuff. If you read this you acknowledge you are above 18 years old.

Warning/ Triggers : A lot Angst, mentions of character death. I’m sorry this chapter might only contain 2% fluff or no fluff at all. If you think you can’t handle this cup of Tea you may skip this chapter. You have been warned!

Tagged list : @thecordoniandiaries @leelee10898 @annekebbphotography @desiree-0816 @emceesynonymroll @jessiembruno @jlpplays1

Rod tag list : @liamzigmichael4ever @client-327 @brightpinkpeppercorn @lovehugsandcandy @lilyofchoices @justdani14 @zaffrenotes @queenkaneko

Song Inspiration: Chord Overstreet - Hold On

Loving and fighting

Accusing, uniting

I can't imagine a world with you gone

The joy and the chaos, the demons we're made of

I'd be so lost if you left me alone

Ximena’s words hit Kaela like a knife to the heart, her breath catches her throat trying to process everything, her body trembled unable to form the next words. This can’t be happening, this can’t be happening. “Tell me this isn’t true X, tell me this is just one of Colt’s stupid plans or something.” She stammers. “How do you even know it’s him it could be someone else?!”

“Because. Because we were working together on a job when it happened. Something went wrong the cops got wind of our operation and they ended up chasing him, the roads were slippery from the rain and he. He just lost control. I overheard from the police scanner that he was found dead on the spot. Kaela I really am so so sorry, I know how much Colt meant to you, how much you both meant to each other.” She informs Kaela regretfully.

“W— Where is he?” Kaela asks her breath shaky but Ximena hesitates from answering. “Ximena where is Colt? Where did they take the body? Please answer me!” She pleads desperately. Ximena could feel that Kaela was hurt and being in denial, not wanting to face the reality of losing Colt. She treads carefully before she finally speaks. “Kaela, it’s not a good idea. The accident it messed Colt up badly, he wouldn’t want that image of him to be the last thing you remember.”

“I don’t care Ximena!” She belted. “I want to see it with my own eyes. I have to please, please, please.” Her voice cracks, her eyes start welling with tears. “Please I need to see him.”

Ximena hesitates again but finally gives in, she gives Kaela the address. Kaela quickly grabs her purse and keys from the counter but before she hangs up there was something else Ximena had to tell her. “Kaela before you go you should know, your dad. He is the one who is handling the case.” Kaela pauses at the threshold of the door when Ximena mentions her dad, they haven’t been close ever since the whole MPC argument. Sure they talked every once in a while to catch up on each others lives but things were never the same as they were before.

She closes her eyes then lets out a calm sigh. “Thank you Ximena, I know you’re risking a lot just by calling me right now.” “Take care Kaela.” Ximena advises her then hangs up. Kaela shoves her phone into her handbag slamming the door behind her quickly races to find Colt.

****

Kaela drove as fast as she could, hitting the gas pedal speeding across the highway. Swiftly maneuvering through the city and over taking every car that was in her way, she could feel the rush of adrenaline in her blood. “I promise I’ll find away for us to be together again.” The memory of Colt’s words the last time they saw each other came crashing back, tears began welling up in her eyes once more and she quickly wiped them away. She needed to see if it was really. Please don’t let it be him. She quickly put her car in park upon arriving at the coroner's office. Getting out and slammed the car door behind her, not caring that she was double parked.

“Excuse me miss you can’t be here at this hour.” The security at the front desk exclaimed as she barges into the building. Kaela ignores the security guard, quickly pacing past him looking at the signs above for the morgue. She turns the corner and she sees him, her dad standing outside the door that leads to the morgue. “Dad!” She called running towards him. Mr. Matsuo turns his eyes widen, hands in his pocket. “Kaela? W— What are you doing here?” He stutters. “You shouldn’t be here Kaela.”

“I need to see him.I need to know if it’s really him” She tries to head for the door leading to the morgue but he stops her blocking her path giving her a regretful look. “Dad what are you doing to get out of my way.”

“Kaela please don't do this, don’t make yourself hurt anymore than you already have.” He pleads but Kaela doesn’t listen trying to force her way in. He finally shows her a clear evidence bag to get her attention. “Kaela these are some of the things we found on him or at least what we managed to salvage.” She swallows a lump in her throat when she sees what was in it, among the things was a familiar Jade Kitsune.

****

Flashback here..

It was the night of senior prom, the first time Colt and Kaela confessed their love for each other, it was also the first time they slept together. The first time she gave herself to someone. Kaela nestled herself under his arms, her head resting on his bare chest feeling a sense of total bliss. How could anyone with the tendency to bring danger wherever he goes make her feel so safe at the same time. “What’s on your mind sweetheart?” Colt calmly asked while he traced soothing lines on her arm.

“Just thinking about how much I wished we could stay like this forever. No schemes, no bad guys to take down. Just us.. like this in this moment.” She murmured.

“Believe me I’ve been thinking the same thing.” He replied then heaves a sigh. “But we’re going to have to go back to reality soon.”

Kaela turned stretching her hand toward the side table grabbing her small clutch, she opened it and took out a small jade pendant then handed it to Colt. “Is this a Kitsune?” Colt asked cocking an eyebrow as he rubbed his fingers on the Jade pendant. “Mhmm..” She hummed nestling herself back into his arms. He turned the Kitsune behind and noticed some Japanese symbol engraved to it.

ケイラ

“What does this mean?” He questioned. Kaela rolled onto her stomach, propping her head on her hands and smiled when she saw the engraving on the Jade pendant. “It’s supposed to be a translation of my name when written in Kanji. When I was a child, my cousin was babysitting me and decided it was a good idea to let a six year old watch a horror movie. I was traumatized for weeks after that, I couldn’t sleep without the lights on. Then one day my mom gave me this, she told me that Jade crystals are used in asian cultures to ward off evil and that Kitsune’s are known to bring wisdom, long life and luck.”

“They are also known to be tricksters.” He added with a devilish grin. “You’re not the only one with some Japanese blood running through their veins, remember?”

“Maybe that’s why I’m attracted to you.” She winked. “Really? I thought it was because of how cute I was.” He chuckled and she swats him playfully, her expression quickly changes into something sincere. “I want you to have it Colt. It kept me safe all these years, it would make me feel better knowing you have it with you.”

“Kaela I can’t take this from you. You said so yourself your mom gave it to you. I know that this must mean a lot.” He replied.

“It does, but you mean a lot more to me so I want you to have it. Just promise me you’ll keep it with you wherever you go.” She grinned.

Colt doesn’t answer at first instead he pulled her into a deep kiss, when they parted he tucks a strand of loose hair behind her ear. “I promise you, I’ll keep this close to me until my very last breath.”

***

Present day..

Kaela’s shoulders drop when she sees the Jade Kitsune she gave Colt the night of her senior prom. She felt her body tremble and drops on to her knees, pressing her hands on her head and cries. “No, no, no.This can’t be. This can’t. I can't. I can't. I... I can't. I can't. No. It hurts. It hurts. Just make it stop! Please make it stop! It hurts!”

Mr.Matsuo saw how much the news affected her. His heart feels like it’s breaking into a million pieces watching his daughter like this but what’s done can’t be undone. He kneels down and gives her a tight hug rubbing soothing circles trying to comfort her. “It’s okay Kaela. It’s going to be okay. You’re going to be okay.”

But how could she be? Every inch of her body was hurting when the realization that she would never see him, talk to him or touch him ever again hit her. That last piece of hope that she was clinging on to that piece that kept her going it was gone. Kaela couldn’t think, she couldn’t breathe, She felt like she was suffocating. “I can’t. I can’t breathe. I can’t. Please make it stop. Dad just make it stop! Make it stop!”

****

A few months have passed since she got the heartbreaking news about Colt, they say a broken heart will heal over time but time did nothing for Kaela. Losing Colt hit her hard, she was falling back on all her classes, her grades were slipping, so she decided to take a semester off. She lost a lot of weight because she wasn’t eating well, she wouldn’t leave her apartment unless she had to work or buy some things at the grocery. She isolated herself from the outside world.

“Ah! What the actual fuck?!” Kaela growls as the blinding sunlight pierces through her eyes.

“Get up, we’re going out tonight!” Riya exclaims after opening the curtains, she pulls Kaela’s blanket away from her. Kaela takes a small plush pillow next to her and covers her face from the blinding light, letting out an exasperated sigh. “Go away Riya, I’m not in the mood to go anywhere right now.”

“I'm serious Kaela!” Riya insisted placing both hands on her waist but Kaela pretends not to care. When she sees how stubborn Kaela was being, she drops her shoulders and heaves a sigh. She hated seeing her best friend like this, she takes a sit on the bed next to Kaela. “Listen, I know how much you loved Colt and I can’t imagine what you’ve been going through but it’s been almost 3 months Kaela, even if you’re not over him you can’t just live your life like this forever. When was the last time you went out for fresh air or even had a proper meal?” Riya asked but Kaela still refuses to answer her. “I’m not asking you to move on from Colt if you’re not ready, I just don’t want you to spend the rest of your life miserable and all alone. You haven’t been out in ages, who knows this could be good for you? Meeting new people, opening new doors. Just try Kaela, if not for me then for yourself.” Riya got up from Kaela’s bed and heads for the door she hesitates at the threshold then looks over at Kaela. “There’s a party tonight at Mike's house if you happen to change your mind I’ve sent you the e-vite along with the address. I really hope you’ll come.

Kaela waited until Riya left the apartment before getting out of bed, feeling dizzy as she slowly stood up. She heads to the bathroom dragging her fit. A nice long soak in the tub would be good. She dips her hand into the water to make sure the temperature was right. As soon as the bath was ready, she strips off her clothes and slowly stepped into the bathtub.

She closed her eyes trying to relax, trying to forget until mind slowly drifted and she found herself submerged in the water. But then she hears the voices, a surge of memories come crashing all at once. I love you Kaela.. I promise I’ll find a way for us to be together again.. Kaela I’m sorry… I can't. I can't. No. It hurts. It hurts.. Just make it stop! Please make it stop! It hurts!... I love you, Colt. Hold on to that. Kaela emerges from the water, gasping for air. She could feel her heart pounding as she panted, trying to catch her breath.

Once she managed to compose herself, she gets out of the tub and dries off before wrapping herself in a towel then heads to the sink. Kaela wipes the mist that built up on the mirror, she then leans against the sink staring at her reflection. She doesn’t recognize the person standing in front of her, it looked like an entirely different person, like someone who was broken inside and out. Fuck maybe Riya was right, I need to get out of this apartment a night out should help make me forget.

#playchoice #playchoices ride or die #choices ride or die #Colt x MC #colt kaneko #mc x colt #Logan x Mc #choices rod

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