#anyway. maybe after I graduate in like. what 3/4 weeks. I’ll have time to do some octo art | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

punkwixes · 1 year

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i guess a better life update is like

so i’m graduating this spring. it took me a while to get an internship + i got rejected from the first one i applied to. that was okay, though, because it was smth specific that only took One student in each department, so like 4 students total, and you had to specially apply to it. i found another internship actually working for the school itself, which i’m pleased with. it’s very close to my home, and i can get there easily. they’re very casual about dress code too, so i dyed my hair again earlier this month :3

i quit working for the nursing home like 6 months ago, after almost 6 YEARS of being employed there. it was pretty on the spot lmao. we got new management that sucked + a resident started screaming at me and i was just like. well. i’m done.

currently: unemployed! or “full-time student” according to, like, my taxes or w/e. contemplating applying to some stores in the area but not too worried about it. money isssss pretty tight rn, but luckily i was able to save a LOT over the pandemic so i’ll be okay until i graduate and have to start paying back those student loans. i would like to think i’m pretty good at budgeting and money management, luckily.

ummm wedding is happening in may of next year, hopefully. move is happening ????? idk whenever it works for both of us. it’s gonna be scary but i can’t complain or worry about it too much because my wife already did that move Alone, so , like,

made this post because i was just thinking about like, idk what the gap will be between graduating & moving — not really worried about it Too much, because i know that’s smth we will figure out later haha. but i was thinking about how it’s smth we will figure out because i am Acutely aware of what happened when shit got bad in june 2017, where i was going “i’ll be moving out soon, i can’t get a job NOW!” and then i didn’t move out till december 2017. but then i was thinking about how i haven’t really talked about my life Extensively here since all that happened — maybe a bit, but most of it happens in dms (hi jess) (the ONLY person i use the tumblr messenger for) or in my discord server(s?) lmao.

and i realized that i have a lot of people (relatively, i guess.) who have been following me since i was like. 15? 16? and who maybe saw all that go down but don’t know what’s happening now.

anyways. on that front. my parents and i have… idk. kind of a relationship? not really sure. they have more of a relationship to me than i have to them, which is funny. they text me about every other day, but i don’t really answer that often. they know if they make negative commentary abt anything i’m doing they’ll just lose contact with me for good. they know i’m gay & that i’m getting married, and they’re Forced to be supportive Or Else, which i also find funny. they’re not attending my wedding though, On God.

had a weird thing happen a while back where my mom apologized for like. a lot of stuff. for the homophobia, for Some of the physical abuse she did, for some of the physical abuse & other abuse my dad & brother did to me. on their behalf, i guess? idk, being apologized to doesn’t really mean anything to me — or it didn’t, for a long time; i’ve only recently had Moments where someone apologized to me and i felt that it meant a lot — so i just felt weird about it. she was crying really hard, so i know that she knows that it was Bad. i still wish i could impart on her or on other people who don’t believe me Exactly what it was like, but i can’t.

for a large part it doesn’t really affect me, other than like, a desire to bury my head in the sand rather than Confront anything negative. so like. it doesn’t make it better but what i’m trying to say is like… idk, i’m doing fine, it could be way worse.

i guess i’m just biding my time until graduation. i almost wish i was working, because it feels like time passed a lot faster when i had work looming over me every two days. my class schedule for the next week is… fun…. i have a class from 2-4 and 6-8 on mondays, and then class from 6-8 on wednesdays. my fourth class is just my internship credit, and i don’t really need any more classes [that are offered in the fall].

so i’ll have plenty of free time, which is nice. i want to do more around the house, helping w upkeep and stuff. i have housemates & friends who i Love, which is not smth i would have expected like five years ago. so. time flies, i guess.

#VERY long rambly update but like. again i just can’t find my journal.#i’ve had various parts of this sitting in my drafts as well bc i Meant to make an exciting life update and forgor.#this isn’t That but i wanted to post smth substantially less depressing

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alwastakenofc · 26 days

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ITS TIMEEEEE !….

i finally got my student loans figured out (aside from this stupid ass $55 late fee apparently put on my account after they already started the transfer of the remaining loans to my bank…???????? idfk, i’m stressed abt that LOL but at least it’s not Thousands in the hole like it was before, it’s just $55 i need to pay…. PLS GIMMIE MY LOAN REFUND SO I CAN PAY THAT RLY QUICK AND BE DONE WITH THIS ALL FOR THE SEMESTER, EDUCATION GODS!!!) and i’m all enrolled!! AND !!! i have a professor from a couple years ago that was SO understanding and helpful when i was failing outta his and another professor’s class (bc my mom’s cancer was rly kicking in and i was her full time caregiver and doing Everything around the house) and im taking his class again!! im rly surprised bc i was Definitely in bad financial standing in 2022 when i failed out, but for some reason i can still get my financial aid and they couldn’t find any record of me being in bad financial standing??? and im just like, OKAY COOL WHATEVER!! IM NOT QUESTIONING IT BC I NEED ALL THE FINANCIAL AID I CAN GET FOR THESE LAST 2 SEMESTERS!!

( ・∇・)

so !!! anyways, i saw some video abt some girly vaping for 7 years and getting some mf holes in her lungs and that scares me as someone with mf asthma already LOL so i rly do wanna/need to quit vaping, but idk i feel like i might stick to it for this semester LMAO then after this semester i’ll be Done and will Quit during my japanese language semester bc i wanna be FULLY FOCUSED.

i also wanna quit wax/dabs again, i went on a lil bender of smoking weed for like 2 1/2 weeks Straight and built my tolerance right back up so that’s annoying. i want to be Sober during my classes/the weekdays and save smoking for the weekends. i will say i am glad i have been keeping drinking to the weekends as well but mannnnn my roomie and i had a massive drinking and gaming sesh like a week and a half ago and im tryna not drink like that again LMAO, i drank a little a couple days ago for the weekend but def not as much as when we drank together a week and a half ago LOL.

aaaaaannnnnyways yea i’m stressed abt going back to college and ESPECIALLY for my japanese classes LOL i rly gotta like relearn EVERYTHING and hope for the best within…. 4 months? it shouldn’t be TOOOOOOO bad, it’s mainly just the semester of japanese that i fucked up in 2022 that i gotta rly practice. just the whole of the genki 2 book i rly should commit myself to learn tbh. yea that’s prolly a good goal LOL. get them *words and kanji specifically* memorized; listening and speaking is easier for me i guess, it’s lit just remembering how to write and what is what when writing that is hard!!! 😭😭😭 ugh!!!! if anyone has any reccs for apps or books to help practice 2nd year japanese for university pls lmk, i got some apps (screenshots below) and like i said, the genki books, that i use rn!!

alrighty well, next up LMAO. i can’t mf WAAAIT to graduate bc i mf WANT TO GET A NICE JOB AND MOVE OUT ON MY OWN WITH MY KITTIES SO MF BADDDDDD ‼️😥🙂‍↕️ like im so nervous thinking abt it but then i also get so excited !!! and imma try to find smth to transfer to in japan maybe after working in a govt position for a couple years; i would wanna see if i could choose to work in a specific prefecture with my experience as a TESOL teacher (esp if i keep doing my online TESOL job like MWF or smth? keep building the experience for that while also building experience in a professional setting??? oooohhhhhhhhh?!?!?!) or if i could even work with a japanese or american business that’s stationed in a big city in japan as a correspondent???? idk that could be fun LOL but i dont have Business experience…. unless its some educational business, that could be interesting!?!?!?!? idk the possibilities are endlessssssss ugh. esp if after a couple years i can maybe take my remaining 2-3 classes i needed for my japanese minor and get the certificate for that eventually …???? OR i just go back to college and get a separate bachelor’s by majoring in japanese only???? LOL idk maybe japanese business idk that would be fun!!!! ok i have a lot of things to think abt now that ive started considering LMAO.

good stuff, okay! i’m done heheh, have a good one all 😋 see ya when the semester starts bc i’ll be rly stressed out i’m sure 😅

PS don’t mind duo laying there in the background of the screenshots, i haven’t rly used duo in a hot minute so the green bird is angy at me 🤓

#personal #meh #rant #lol also this guy in that one online game is like getting rly weirdly possessive #even tho we literally talked for only ONE DAY LOL #he’s like did i do smth to make you upset what’s wrong with you #and i’m like….. i’m busy???? wtf is wrong with YOU??? were not friends bro 😭😭😭#i haven’t been on to check his reply LMFAO #ugh why do ppl ruin stuff for me i was just tryna be nice and now he’s A CREEPY #CREEPY CREEP MF LIKE WHYYYYYY

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bvannn · 5 months

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Weekly Update April 12, 2024

This week was awful. I’ve been bogged down with homework, surgery sickness briefly returned, my congenial illness was flaring up the worst I’ve seen in since my 2022 surgery, and to top it all off I still have 3 lab reports and a paper and presentation to do this weekend. It’s fine but it does mean I am a bit limited with my art stuff. I’m still doing what I can though.

Comic progress: page 1 is completely done, page 2 needs some backgrounds and lettering and it’s good to go. I probably could do those tonight and maybe if my mood improves I will but for now I’m taking it slowly. The third page will probably also be pretty quick, as from what I remember it didn’t have a lot of panels. Progress is going as fast as I can handle with my situation. I’d like to think it’ll pick up once I graduate but I’m anticipating I’ll need a break. When I graduated high school I slept for 25 hours straight (unless my clocks were wrong or I misinterpreted, which is possible), I anticipate doing the same again for Uni. After that I’m hoping I’ll pick up the pace.

Animation: my limited time has put the animation in a weird spot because I don’t have enough time to draw storyboards, but I have had time in waiting rooms and waiting for things to cook in lab, and I’ve been writing out a plan for what shots I want where and when, so I’m still making progress. I just need there to be a span of time where I have the free time and my body is in a state where I can draw well enough for the storyboards. Admittedly I’m really bad at storyboards and everything gets cleaned up with animation after, but I haven’t decided yet if there’s enough shots with the type of movement to justify making a puppet rig. I anticipate one for a profile view but am unsure if it needs to be a complete rig or if I’ll need the other angles. Again I’m not as worried about it right now, since that’ll be dictated by the storyboards.

Other songs: In addition to the cover I’m sitting on right now I’m also close to done with another, plus almost done with that instrumental medley. Also got more lyric work done for the two originals I’ve been sitting on. Last night I tried some piano to try to relax, and to practice melody writing. On a good night I can write a single melody line in 20 minutes, which I think is pretty good, and now I have a couple more I’m sitting on, which I’ll likely turn into OC themes, but only after everything else is finished. I’ll try to time myself on the rest of the music making process so I can be more consistent, but again I’m waiting on free time.

The other thing I did this week was writing. A bit of OC story writing, and a bit of TTRPG writing. I’m still a little stuck with the third chapter but I got through the worst of it, just need to come up with some thematic encounters and on to chapters 4 and 5. I’ve been back on a low level of epithet erased Brainrot since I’m finally trying to read Prison of Plastic, so I’m hoping I can channel that into writing, but it’s mostly been theorycrafting about the future of the OG series. The more I think about it the more sure I am that Sylvie is going to join Bliss Ocean and be a villain. Anyway I’m writing that campaign, good chance it’s a ways off yet but it’ll presumably be done during a time where I have more free time anyway, so I’ll just write it up proper then. Other writing thing I’d want to put more effort into would be a pitch comic for my secondary OC story since people really seem to be interested in those characters, but outlining the overall story will come naturally and from there I’ll find the most natural starting point. I’m not thinking too hard, I’m very bad at thinking.

Next week my objective is going to be to survive. My body is having a lot of problems and schoolwork is piling up (two events that are probably related but it’s fine that means they’ll go away around the same time) and anything else I can do will be comic, finish second cover song, and storyboards, in that order of priority, while lower effort projects will be storyboard planning, lyric writing, and story/TTRPG writing, in that order of priority. I’ll still try to have enough small drawings to post but looks like you guys are getting tired of those so I’ll try to space them out a bit better. Thank you for being so patient, I promise it’ll be three more weeks most of this slump before I pick up and really get working again!

#weekly update

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reekierevelator · 1 year

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After the Party

(a short radio play in three scenes)

CHARACTERS

Yvette Late twenties, smart clothes, carrying a handbag

Murdo Late twenties, smart-casual clothes

Jack Middle aged, jeans and polo shirt

Bob Late teens, jeans and polo shirt

SCENE ONE

Location - In a black taxi – FX taxi noise

Time – 4pm, Saturday afternoon, March 2023 (the new age of austerity)

1 Yvette

And the way that guy kept on about his yacht… What was his name?

2 Murdo

Oh yes, that guy - Guy

3 Yvette

Oh yes, Guy – humblebragging about almost drowning himself when he fell overboard off St Lucia after drinking Cristal champagne all day.

4 Murdo

It wasn’t Cristal that Roger was pouring into our glasses back there.

5 Yvette

Some sort of fizzy plonk for the plebs I think. I saw Lucinda take a sip and she screwed her face up at him. And the place, I expected at least a decent three course sit-down – just a buffet – and nachos and melted cheese. I ask you, a ‘buffet restaurant’, and they called it a Swiss raclette or something. It was definitely cheddar. I thought that fondue business went out with the dinosaurs. Slices of cold ham, potato salad, French bread, and that gateaux was awful. I could have made a much better meal at home. To be honest, I think Roger and Lucinda are feeling the pinch.

6 Murdo

I got that impression too – though admittedly they were paying for everything. Guy could have stumped up. I heard him virtue-signalling, telling you his usual story about how he started out as a brickie’s hod carrier and ended up owning the whole nationwide company. It’s sort of true. He did work on a building site for a couple of weeks during college vacations. But it was in his uncle’s building firm. His uncle never married. No kids. Guy inherited everything. But anyway, it was only a Saturday lunchtime get-together. Roger just wanting to mark his birthday with some old pals.

7 Yvette

Saturday night is more appropriate. Shame about Lucinda’s working – what did you say – second job driving nightshift taxis? Lunchtime is more like something for kids, a children’s birthday party. The only thing missing was candles on that dreadful cake.

8 Murdo

Maybe they didn’t think about it? They haven’t got any kids. Kids are such an enormous expense, aren’t they? If you were keen we could maybe think about children in a year or two. Roger’s NHS salary must be worth a lot less that when I first met him a few years ago. But at least he’s managed to get on the housing ladder – huge mortgage – Lucinda’s taxi work must help pay for it. He was gobbling food like he hadn’t eaten for weeks. What is it Wodehouse says – ‘getting himself outside of’ - whole platefuls of cold ham, pakora, sausage rolls and samosas.

9 Yvette

Not quite the haute cuisine you’d led me to expect. What does Lucinda do?

10 Murdo

She was waitressing for a couple of years after graduating. Hotel receptionist now… I got some hot runny cheese on my best shirt. One for the dry-cleaner’s. Even dry-cleaners charge a fortune these days.

11 Yvette

At least we can drop the forced smiles now and have a pleasant evening with a glass of decent wine and some chocolates.

12 Murdo

That’s true. We may not be in Guy’s league but we aren’t quite counting the pennies yet.

13 Yvette

Well, as we agreed when we moved in together last year, you count your pennies and I’ll count mine – except of course for the big things, like me being lumbered paying the rent.

14 Murdo

You’re not going to bring that up again are you? We agreed. You’re the rent -and your phone contract of course - but I’m everything else – council tax, gas, electricity, water, broadband, tv licence, tv subscriptions – Netflix, Disney+, Prime, -food, drink, taxis…

15 Yvette

No need to rattle on about it Murdo. I sometimes think dividing up our finances this way suits you because whenever we’re out with other people you can give the appearance that you pay for me, for everything - meals, alcohol, entertainment, - that certainly seemed to be the impression that bitch Sophie had when she joked that if we were a business partnership I must be the sleeping partner.

16 Murdo

She was talking about herself, her own business Yvy, not us.

17 Yvette

She was implying I sleep with you in exchange for financial support. How does that Sophie besom manage to live so well anyway? What does she do?

18 Murdo

Her dad made money. Spent years buying old flats cheap, doing them up then selling them at a profit. He moved on to letting them out instead of selling them. Then he let Sophie take over. These days I think there are more than a dozen properties she lets out.

19 Yvette

Sounds like easy money to me. That man Cameron she’s with. Grinning like a hyena. ‘Isn’t it great how house prices keep shooting up’ he says. I just smiled sweetly. I know you said Cammy’s parents bought that place for him when he was a student but it doesn’t help. I tried talking to him about my work. He said he was sure I made a wonderful shop assistant – I am not a shop assistant Murdo!

20 Murdo

Of course you aren’t Yvy. You’re in retail, you’re the deputy manager of a classy little boutique in the St James Quarter.

21 Yvette

There’s still that prat James above me; thinks he’s God’s gift. But I could hear that Sophie sniggering behind my back, implying to your friends that I was some kind of kept woman.

22 Murdo

That’s a little paranoid Yvy. You make it sound like she was trying to undermine you, gaslighting you.

23 Yvette

She sort of threatened to come into my shop and make me serve her while she tried on the most expensive dresses – talked about haute couture – wouldn’t know haute couture if it fell on her head. Well, anyway, gas lighting would be up to you. You certainly wouldn’t want to stump up for gas lighting.

24 Murdo

You’re right there. The way fuel and food prices have been rocketing up I think I got the worst of the bargain when we divided up our overhead costs.

25 Yvette

The rent’s not cheap Murdo. I think they’re planning to put it up again soon.

SCENE TWO

Location – Front door of flat on arrival home

Time – 4.30pm, Saturday afternoon

1 Murdo

[about to put key in door] The fares black cabs charge is really getting beyond a joke Yvy.

2 Yvette

Well I don’t understand why you’ve let the garage keep our car all this time. That must be three weeks now they’ve been working on it. I mean how much repair work needs doing after an MOT? Unless you make a fuss tradesmen are just in no hurry at all these days are they?

3 Murdo

I know Ubers and minicabs look a bit cheap to you Yvy but honestly these days you can make a good case for just taking the bus – a proper and sensible thing to do - fighting climate change and so on. The bus would have been just as quick. …. Wait a minute, did you forget to lock the door?

4 Yvette

No, of course not. And you were last out as usual.

5 Murdo

[peering closely at the lock] Well anyway, it’s still open. Hells bells Yvy, it looks like the lock’s been forced.

6 Yvette

Oh God, has someone broken into the flat?

7 Murdo

There’s a light on inside. I can hear people talking. We should call the police.

8 Yvette

[striding into the flat] Oh for God’s sake Murdo. These days the police won’t bother getting here for hours, maybe days. I pay the rent on this place; I pay for that door. I’ll bloody well sort this out myself!

9 Jack

[rising from a kneeling position in the hall] Oh, ah, hullo there. Just back are you eh? Been on holiday?

10 Yvette

Holidays? … [aside how do we divide the cost of holidays?] ….You’ve been caught red-handed, give yourself up…

11 Jack

Knocked and rang the bell. No answer. Let myself in.

12 Yvette

[threatening to hit Jack with handbag] Let yourself in? Who the hell do you think you are breaking into my flat? …

13 Jack

Ah, hang on, see missus, you’ve got the wrong end of the stick there…

14 Yvette

[Yvette startled as Bob pokes his head out from the under-the-stairs cupboard] Another one! And who the hell is that?

15 Jack

Ah, well this little chap would be Bob. We work as a team see, I…..

16 Yvette

A bloody gang of thieves. Murdo, there’s two of them! Don’t let them escape. Block the door. [She searches in her handbag and pulls out a pair of nail scissors.] Try to run and I swear I’ll poke your eye out with these.

17 Bob

Easy on there missus, we’re only swapping the meters aren’t we.

18 Yvette

What do you mean, ‘swapping the meters’?

19 Jack

Well we’re Northern Gas missus. [Jack turns and points to the writing on the back of his polo shirt – ‘Northern – it’s a gas, gas, gas’] Just here to do the meters … gas meter…

20 Bob

…and I’m on the electricity…

21 Yvette

[perplexed, brandishing scissors] ‘Do the meters?’ ‘Do the meters?’

22 Jack

Yes, both … your dual fuel contract see…

23 Bob

You’ll have had all the text messages…

24 Jack

…Or emails…

25 Bob

…The envelopes with big red lettering.

26 Murdo

[slapping his forehead] Ah, oh dear, my goodness. Well, now I think about it I might be able to explain some of this Yvy.

27 Yvette

What do you mean, ‘explain’?

28 Murdo

Well, it’s true, there were emails – rather a lot of emails in fact – and then there was a letter… letters… – printed in red.

29 Jack

Yes, that’s right, see that’s how it works missus.

30 Yvette

Good God Murdo, are you trying to tell me that these… these people, really are Northern Gas employees, and they’ve broken into my flat…

31 Jack

Well not ‘broken in’ – that’s not right missus. All legitimate, above board. See gas, water, electric – right of entry anytime – case of emergency and so on, so…

32 Yvette

…broken into my flat because, because, because they’re converting, force-fitting, turning our gas and electricity meters into prepayment meters, because, because…

33 Jack

Because the bills haven’t been paid, have they missus? Payments stopped weeks ago. Company left with no choice.

34 Yvette

[turning angrily on Murdo] For God’s sake Murdo, is this true? How could you forget to arrange the direct debits? That’s all it takes – a little bit of competent household management. No need to stand there looking like you’ve lost a pound and found a penny. Get it sorted!

35 Murdo

[shame-faced] Ah, well, actually it is a little more complicated than that really. I did set up the direct debits pretty well, but, well…

36 Bob

Stopped working, did they? - no money in the bank account? – [aside] that’s usually the way of it, isn’t it Jack?

37 Yvette

[stunned] No money!?... but surely… automatic bank overdraft….

38 Murdo

Yvy you know when I said at least we aren’t quite counting the pennies yet, well it’s not quite true. To be honest…

39 Yvette

[hitting Murdo with her handbag] No money?...No money in your bank account?...

40 Murdo

[squirming, ashen faced] Sorry, even the overdraft up to the hilt. Financially embarrassed. Skint. Boracic… See, it’s the job.

41 Yvette

What’s wrong with the job? Working hard, going out to the Brewery’s offices every day, pottering about filling in computer forms and spreadsheets, - you say it’ll all be fully automated soon, but not yet, no not yet, - then home by six-thirty every day. You’ve always enjoyed admin, clerical work. What’s wrong with the job?

42 Murdo

The thing is, when the government pandemic subsidies – furlough and so on – stopped, the beer prices still went up - drinkers cutting back, pubs closing, exports plummeting – bloody Brexit - they just didn’t need so many people to organise deliveries…

43 Yvette

You’ve lost your bloody job!?

44 Murdo

That’s the long short. Two months ago. Negligible redundancy money - not there long enough. But then your shop re-opened and you were busy checking stock, encouraging sales, helping on the counter, still people with money out there… and I, well I’ve been, eh, hanging around, walking around the parks mainly, hoping my savings would stretch till I found a new job. Hoped your salary might tide us over if I had to ask. Actually, lots of vacancies out there – hotel cleaners, burger flippers, call centres – that kind of thing - zero hours – how do people live on those wages? I even looked at fast food bicycle delivery...

45 Bob

Your legs aren’t strong enough guv, nothing personal, just saying. Amount of deliveries you got to do to make a living wage… needs strong legs…

46 Murdo

And people cutting back anyway – can’t afford delivery – cost of food up nearly 20% - Just Eat, Deliveroo – all letting people go or forcing them to be self-employed again – companies never made a profit anyway, and…

47 Jack

Driving though? – You could drive a van – help clog up the streets like all those Asda and Amazon and…

48 Murdo

… and utilities company vans.

49 Jack

Here, somebody’s got to fit PPM. It’s a living.

50 Murdo

Maybe not for anyone with scruples? A bit morally dubious sometimes? Cutting off heating – kids – old people - disabled…left freezing, hungry…

51 Yvette

For God’s sake Murdo. You’re the bloody slough of despond. At least the rent’s still paid. I’m still paying the rent.

52 Murdo

Oh well that will keep Sophie happy at least – the only way I managed to find a flat…

53 Yvette

Oh, that’s great! Our landlady – that bitch! And the car in the MOT garage – no doubt the repair bill’s still unpaid?

53 Murdo

[apologetic] And the tax, insurance, not to mention petrol… One thing just leads to another…

54 Yvette

[aggressive] Oh for God’s sake get a grip Murdo. Listen, it can’t be too hard to learn how to convert meters can it? – and it looks like there’s going to be a lot of demand for people to do these conversions for some time yet…so…do you want to eat or do you want to have scruples?

55 Murdo

[brightening up] You’re not wrong Yvy. It’s an idea. In fact you could be absolutely right. I’ll get on to Northern Gas right away. [Turning to the workmen] What are your names again boys - Jack, Bob is it? – Any chance you could put in a word, give me a decent reference?

SCENE THREE

Location – Pavement outside shop doorway. It is raining. FX rainfall

Murdo - unshaven, dirty clothes, sitting cross-legged on pavement, paper coffee cup in front of him alongside a piece of cardboard with ‘Hungry and homeless’ scrawled on it.

Yvette - striding along the pavement holding an umbrella, suddenly stops, aghast, stands over him, staring down at him. FX footsteps coming to sudden halt

Time – One month later – 9am Monday

1 Yvette

My God, is that you Murdo?

2 Murdo

Ah, Yvy, yes, I’m afraid so. You never think it could happen to you, do you? Then you fill in all the stuff to apply for Universal Credit and it takes forever. You fall through the bloody trapdoor before you even realize it’s there. Penniless. On the street.

3 Yvette

You could have been fixing gas meters.

4 Murdo

Couldn’t bring myself to do it in the end. Heart-breaking. There again, they only hire and pay wages to people with a fixed address. Bit of a catch-22 there, the old ‘no fixed abode’. Couldn’t even get a job pouring coffee – mentioned body odour, wrong image for customers. You know Yvy, they always said money is the main reason couples argue and break up, but I didn’t properly understand… I know you chose the role of paying the rent but, well, I didn’t think you’d take it so seriously, react so badly to my new-found, er, impecuniousness… poverty… I had nowhere to go. Are you still living there?

5 Yvette

I managed to get back in touch with Guy. He spoke to Sophie. She’s letting me stay in the flat rent-free for a couple of months until I find some flat-sharers. Couple of people in the boutique are interested – shop takings are down – staff salaries not keeping up with inflation – employees rents still shooting up - lots of people looking for cheaper places to live.

6 Murdo

James, by any chance?

7 Yvette

Well yes, he’s expressed a strong interest. With the rent going up and pay in the boutique not moving Sophie says I’d be better off working for her – property management assistant.

8 Murdo

[aside, under his breath] bloody rent collector putting the squeeze on. - Spare some change Yvy? I can barely afford to eat – prices getting ludicrous. Citizens Advice gave me a voucher for the food bank but I’m soaked through Yvy, hoping to get enough for a hostel bed tonight.

9 Yvette

[dropping some coins into Murdo’s cup as she turns away] I’ve got to get to work. Money’s a bit tight. Cost of food’s high for everyone. My present post may not pay too well Murdo, but look at you, things could be worse. Maybe I’ll see you around.

10 Murdo

Maybe. Goodbye Yvy. Hope James is good for you. [aside, peering into the paper cup] No need to despair old son, looks about enough there for a couple of cans – funny, working in a brewery I always fancied wine - but if special brew can blank me out of this for a while… help me forget the state of the world….well, oblivion beckons.

#reekie revelator #drama #plays #austerity #social problems

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random2908 · 2 years

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Tagged by @theothin

Last song: I don’t listen to a ton of music most of the time because it feels bad with my migraines. But I went to a singing circle a week ago and one or two of the shorter, more repetitive songs from there have been stuck in my head on and off. Also we sang the Elk Herds song with all the harmonies, even though there were only four of us left in the circle by that point in the evening, so that was great.

Last show/currently watching: Last shows were Wednesday, Is it Cake?, and Russian Doll season 2, which I feel is a perfect snapshot of my preferred tv-watching habits--two spec-fic dark comedies and a dumb cooking competition. (Left to my own devices I’d say the ratio would probably be the opposite, but I was watching Russian Doll with people, and in fact I’ve watched little enough tv in the past several years since starting my last job that what I watch with other people on Saturday evening movie/tv nights is enough to skew my statistics.) Currently I’m finishing up the shows that I was partway through with friends, but now won’t be continuing with them because I’ve moved away: Spy x Family and The Patient. Next at the top of my watch list are “Glass Onion” (which is admittedly a movie not a show) and Stranger Things Season 4. After that I’ll have to go to my lists and think a bit about what I want to watch, but maybe Sandman (even though I wasn’t too into the books 20 years ago), or His Dark Materials (ditto), or Good Omens (ditto again, just replace 20 years with 15; you can see why I haven’t watched these shows yet even though everyone else has). Or maybe I’ll be asking for recommendations.

Currently reading: My tumblr dash. Uh. A smattering of fanfic. The last book I read was two months ago and it was The Last Graduate (Scholomance book 2). Next book in the queue, when I get to my destination and establish myself as a patron at my new local library is The Golden Enclaves (Scholomance book 3), which I am looking forward to. After that, my best friend and I have decided to do the first Mistborn book as a book-club book, because both of us want to try out Sanderson. She because she was obsessed with WoT as a kid, and ended up reading the entire series as it came out; Sanderson wrote the last three books after Robert Jordan died, so she’s very curious what she’ll think of his own works. Me because Sanderson is my sister-in-law’s favorite author and I feel like I should make some attempt at bonding with her? After that the next two books I intend to read are Memories of Empire, and Beloved (by Toni Morrison) as my book club book with my best friend, because it’s one of her favorites to re-read and we meant to do a book club on it last summer but ended up just being too busy. Anyway, some years I read 2 books a month and some years I read maybe 3 books the whole year, so I don’t know how long it’ll take to get through this list.

Current obsession: Insofar as I even do obsessions, idk, Wednesday I guess. The Locked Tomb, still. A friend who lives 15 minutes away from my new home is obsessed with Scholomance so maybe he’ll get me obsessed with it; notwithstanding that I was patient zero for tlt fandom among the people I know, generally I don’t get obsessed with anything without feedback from people around me who are also into it. (My dad, my best friend, and a handful of my other irl friends are all into Wednesday.)

Tagging whoever wants, which I know is a cheat but I don’t want to put pressure and I’m sure I’ll find anyone’s answers interesting.

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mishasminions · 4 years

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Here’s why the Supernatural Series Finale Sucked

(AND IT REALLY ISN’T JUST BECAUSE CAS/MISHA WASN’T IN IT)

First of all, I’d like to state, that this perspective is coming from someone who has watched, invested in, and dissected this show for 15 years. I’ve tried to rationalize and justify every single decision each of the main characters made throughout the years, and I’ve always tried to make sense of each of their story arcs from a “bigger picture” standpoint as each season progressed.

Anyway, before I can properly explain why the finale sucked, let me quickly take you through 15 seasons by segregating them into 3 eras, because you can’t really comprehend what Supernatural is about and what it’s become without going through how it tried to expand its universe.

SEASONS 1-5: THE KRIPKE ERA

Now, we all know that Kripke was always set in wrapping up Sam and Dean’s story in 5 seasons, and he did just that.

So, in this era, Supernatural is about two brothers who set out on a journey to fulfill “the family business”. They hunt mythical monsters that terrorize the world, while battling the monsters within themselves. Their ultimate “big bad” is an apocalypse.

Towards the end of this era, we find out that Sam and Dean are actually a parallel to Biblical characters who are brothers turned rivals. And that Sam and Dean’s destiny is to go up against each other.

However, as a dynamic, they have always been about making their own choices, choosing free will, and having a brotherly bond that can power through against any obstacle at any given day.

So, this era is neatly wrapped up with its finale. The characters grow, and get justified endings.

Dean, a man who thinks of himself as two things: 1. Sam’s older brother and protector; and 2. Daddy’s blunt little instrument.

He’s spent his whole life believing that that was his only purpose, and he knew that the only ending he’ll get would either be a bloody death fulfilling his duty to the family business; or laying his life on the line to save his brother.

Dean gets the ending he thought was never possible for him, something he thought he could never deserve. After years of living and dying for his family, he gets a shot at having an apple pie life--to settle down with a nice girl, raise a kid in a house with a white picket fence. With Sam gone, Dean’s responsibility now is to himself.

Sam, on the other hand, never wanted any part of it, because he wasn’t groomed the way Dean was, and because thanks to Dean, Sam wasn’t traumatized or forced into growing up too quickly the way Dean was.

So Sam aspires for a normal life, and works the cases with Dean so he can maybe get some semblance of it, when everything they set out to kill are laid to rest.

Ultimately, Sam performs a selfless act for his brother, who has given up everything for him, and for their cause--to save the world.

The journey is this: Dean sacrifices everything to save Sam, and Sam sacrifices himself so Dean could live.

Apart from being Dean’s “savior” and guardian angel, Castiel’s role in this era is to serve as a mirror to Dean’s journey. Castiel goes from being heaven’s foot soldier, following “God’s orders”; to an angel who learns to choose and feel for the first time in his existence.

After they realize that they’re both daddy’s blunt instruments, Dean starts choosing his own path for himself, and convinces Castiel to join him. Castiel stops following heaven, and starts following Dean.

In the end, with his newfound understanding of the world thanks to Dean, Castiel goes back to heaven to reform it.

We’ve resolved the biblical arc, and the character journeys.

SEASONS 6-10: THE SPIN-OFF ERA

So this is where the show realizes how vast its universe can be, so it tries to expand it by tapping into uncharted lands and experimenting with it.

They take on heaven, reform hell, explore purgatory, have the angels fall, turn Dean into a demon, and kill Death.

Dean and Sam recognize their codependency, and try to rise above it.

They go back and forth between which brother will risk it all for the greater good every other season.

Dean and Cas strengthen their relationship by recognizing the impact they have on each other’s lives.

Cas structures his life and decisions around Dean (Seasons 6-7), and Dean learns to trust and fight for Cas (Seasons 8-9).

Sam and Cas bond (mostly over Dean) because of their shared rationales in decision-making.

Dean, Sam, and even Cas also forge relationships with the people they work with. The concept of “found family” is introduced here.

This era was heavy on the plot while establishing, reinforcing, and solidifying relationships and dynamics.

At this point, it wasn’t just about the brothers anymore.

If Supernatural had ended in Season 10, the logical finale would’ve been Team Free Will, along with the family that they’ve found, going up against the latest big bad (Death or whoever). Maybe they lose them along the way, maybe they all make it out alive, or maybe they go down swinging, but at least the show recognizes and supports the message they keep saying, “Family don’t end with blood”

SEASONS 11-15: THE REWRITE ERA

This is where the show runs out of ideas and decides to invalidate the seasons that came before it.

From bringing Mary back (basically rendering their whole journey pointless because they’ve literally started hunting because of her death), to changing the stipulations in being Michael and Lucifer’s vessels (another character struggle rendered useless), to God himself breaking the fourth wall by saying that the Winchesters get away with everything because “they’re the main characters in his story and everything they’ve been through was just part of a badly written narrative”.

But what we’re getting from this era is that Sam and Dean, along with Cas (who has also deviated from the story) ARE trying to escape a badly written narrative.

That’s the “big bad” in this era. The writer.

At this point, the characters have picked up so many strays (including those from alternate universes), and have settled into their roles in their “found family”. Dean, Sam, and Cas all become surrogate dads and uncles.

They’ve also graduated from the whole “we’re on different sides” and “going behind each other’s backs” drama. And they just want the whole family together.

They’ve all resigned themselves to the cause, but they’re also tired. Dean allows himself to contemplate about wanting more out of life or at least getting a vacation. Sam, on the other hand, realizes his capabilities as an effective leader. Castiel learns to love another being that isn’t Dean (spoiler: it’s Jack).

However, they also realize that they’ve just been puppets on a string all this time.

So what they want now, is to write their own story, and make their own choices knowing that God/the writer isn’t the one fueling their narrative.

So here’s why the finale sucks:

Andrew Dabb, the current showrunner, said that there would be two finales.

15x19 - The finale to wrap up Season 15, and 15x20 - The finale to wrap up the series by “resolving the characters’ journey”

In 15x19 the boys find a way to de-power God/the writer. For the first time in their whole lives, they are free from the story. Their lives are completely theirs now. They can make their own decisions. There are no more “big bads” to fight

And here’s what happens in 15x20:

Immediately after being freed from their story arc, Dean and Sam go back to hunting the monster of the week.

Dean eats pie, gets nailed (literally), makes a 10-minute speech to Sam because he knows he’s dying, then he goes to heaven.

Dean is greeted by Bobby, his surrogate Dad who he hasn’t seen (fully alive) since Season 7. Bobby’s expository dialogue comprises of him explaining that he got out of heaven’s jail, that John and Mary are next door, and that Jack and Cas fixed the dynamics of heaven off-screen.

The first thing Dean decides to do is go for a long drive in his Impala (as if he hasn’t done enough of that already).

Meanwhile, Sam decides to stop hunting after Dean dies, he gets the apple pie life he hadn’t wanted since Season 8 (while Dean was in Purgatory), and names his kid “Dean” for effect. He grows old and dies.

Dean drove around in heaven for so long that Sam catches up to him.

They hug. The end.

Great, right?

After 15 years of struggling to battle their own respective destinies, going up against big bads and even bigger bads, then finally being able to take charge of their own stories, Dean and Sam regress to hunting the monster of the week, and get killed off by a nail and old age. Okay.

Sam gets to retire and have a family, sure, but they still focus on him and the kid he named after his dead brother. Still just “Sam and Dean” through and through. Nothing to do with found family. Just lineage. Just blood. And it ends there.

See, the problem here is that this ending would’ve been passable in The Kripke Era. But we’re 10 years down the road since, and while Sam and Dean are the original main characters, the show isn’t just about them and their codependent relationship anymore.

So you see, even if you take out the whole “Castiel deserves to be in the finale because he’s also a main character with an unfinished story arc” argument, the finale still does no justice to the series it tried to “wrap up”.

But anyway, now I’ll make the case for the problem with Castiel not being in the finale:

In 15x18, we get a 5-minute rushed confession from Castiel to Dean. The context of which are as follows:

1. Earlier in the episode, Dean had wounded Death with her scythe. We later find out that this wound is fatal.

2. Their friends start to “blip out” in a Thanos-like snap, and Dean thinks that Death is causing it, so Dean seeks her out, and Cas goes with him.

3. Dean and Cas anger Death, apparently for no reason because she didn’t even do the thing they thought she did. She chases them to try to kill them

4. Dean and Cas lock themselves in a room. Dean starts a pity party.

5. As Dean goes through hating himself out loud, Cas decides to inform Dean of the deal he made with The Empty. He then proceeds to explain the stipulation of the deal (that he would get taken once he experiences a moment of true happiness), then discusses his newfound happiness philosophy. Dean is getting whiplash.

6. Cas goes on to imply that the one thing that he wanted that he knew he couldn’t have is Dean Winchester reciprocating his romantic feelings for him. (Don’t even try to fight me on this because Cas already has Dean’s platonic love, and he knows that Dean thinks of him as a brother, so if he really meant this in a “familial” way, then why would he think that he couldn’t have the thing that would make him happy?) So Cas’ realization is that telling Dean about his feelings is enough to make him happy.

7. Cas tells Dean all the reasons why he loves him (thereby combating Dean’s self-deprecation tirade), and all the reasons why he’s worthy of his love. Meanwhile, Dean is still winded from the fact that Cas is about to sacrifice himself for him again.

8. Dean never gets to process anything, because Cas is shoving him out of the way, as he and Death (who busts through the door) get taken by The Empty.

After this episode, Dean never speaks of it. Misha Collins supposes that Dean doesn’t reciprocate. Jensen Ackles says that Dean didn’t really get to process it because it was too much, too fast, and that Dean, still dense as ever, thinks that Cas, a celestial being, doesn’t interpret human feelings the same way.

So what was the point of this confession?

Politics and sensitivities of a 2005 network television aside, what does this do for the story?

Cas proclaims his romantic feelings to Dean, but Dean never acknowledges it, doesn’t even give it a passing thought afterwards. So Cas’ big declaration goes unheard.

Cas cashes in on his Empty deal to kill Death (who was dying anyway), in order to save Dean who dies two episodes after.

Dean makes no effort to save Cas (despite being really broken up about his previous deaths, or even spending a whole year in Purgatory looking for him), even after they’ve beaten God, not even asking Jack (who has all the power in the universe) to bring him back (when Jack has already done it before, with less mojo).

Dean moves on to fight the monster of the week. Somewhere off-screen, Jack rescues Cas from The Empty, but Cas uncharacteristically doesn’t even bother to go to Dean? (Every single time he comes back, Dean’s always the first person he goes to)

And Cas, who apparently helped craft and reform the new heaven, isn’t the one who welcomes Dean and explains the new dynamics of it?

Sure, Jan.

Supernatural, you’ve created a finale that only your casual viewers and people who dipped out after Season 5 can appreciate.

Just goes to show how much you actually valued the people who actually invested in your story and characters, and consistently helped keep your show on the air.

[RT this on Twitter]

#SUPERNATURAL #DESTIEL #15X20 #I KNOW I SAID THAT MY LAST LONG POST WAS MY LAST ON EVER BUT I REALLY DIDN'T THINK THE FINALE WOULD BE WORSE THAN I THOUGHT IT WOULD BE #INSIGHTFUL INSIGHTS #UNTAGGED #PERSONAL

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officialcharactersimp · 3 years

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Mending & Amends

(Graduation Gift Part 4)

Summary: the fourth installment of my graduation gift series (can be found on my masterlist). This picks up literally seconds after the end of pt 3 with Natasha trying to find ways to make amends and get you to trust her again. No smut, but still not appropriate.

A/N: author’s note WC: 3k (holy heck)

CW: dark fic; mommy!nat; there is no porn, I repeat no porn; but there is mommy milk/breastfeeding; reader is injured; dubcon existence; 18+ only, do you hear me??

While you’re out, Natasha has time to tend to your injuries without you cowering and crying. Without all the guilt.

She picks your limp form up gently and brings you back out to the basement proper and lays you face-down on the bed-crib. She goes to get some medical supplies and cleans you up, then bandages the open bits and rubs some healing salve all over you. With only a few strikes having landed on your core, she’s satisfied with rubbing some of the salve there.

She gets you to drink some water from a bottle in your sleep, your natural instincts she’s been nurturing taking over. She checks your temperature, a solid 99, which isn’t too bad. She wipes the sweat and tear-tracks from your face, then brushes your hair out again. She lays down beside you and drapes an arm over your waist, burying her face into the back of your neck as she tries to think of what she’ll do when you wake up.

An idea forms slowly as she runs her hand along your waist. Yes, that will work. You might not like it at first, but it will work if she bears through it. She’s not sure how much of the fear and pain on your face she can handle, but she needs to.

She moves you off the bed to make it up nice, then sets you down gently, face down. Whenever you’re healed up you’ll be able to lay on your back, but right now that’s not possible. She ties your hands and feet to frame corners with plenty of slack—she wants you to be able to move.

Finally, she reluctantly removes your collar, biting her lip as she does so. It looked so precious on you, a symbol of the progress of your relationship. All gone now, thanks to her paranoia and overreaction. As much as she doesn’t want to remove it, it’s not right to keep it on if it speaks a lie.

Then she waits for you to come to. It shouldn’t be much longer now, maybe another half hour or so. She sits in the rocking chair in the corner, anxiously bouncing her leg. She needs to get herself under control before you wake. She knows her little baby needs for her to be the collected, caring, soothing mommy right now, and that you will for some time.

You mumble a little as you begin to stir, picking your head up a little. She takes a deep breath and smiles before going over and crouching down to look at your face while she gently tucks your hair back.

“Hey baby,” she says softly. “How’s my little sleepyhead feeling?” she asks. You whimper and inch away from her.

“D-don’ touch me,” you stammer.

“It’s okay baby, mommy isn’t gonna hurt you,” she says.

She sits down beside you. “I am so so sorry about what I did earlier. I was scared you were gonna try to leave me and get hurt. It’s a nasty drop from that window. But I didn’t take the time to think past my initial reaction or ask you, and that was wrong. I overreacted out of fear and anger without stopping to think, and I’m so sorry, little one. I never should have done that,” she says, tears brimming in her eyes. You turn your head to look up at her, eyes searching hers for any sign of ingenuity. You find only regret and sadness.

“You mean it?” you ask softly.

“Yes baby,” she says. “And mommy promises never to punish you without talking first or before taking some deep breaths, okay?” she says.

“Pinky promise?” you ask.

“Pinky promise,” she sticks out her pinky to hook with yours. She’s thrilled that you’re already starting to be a bit little again. As you move to interlock with her, you notice the restraints.

“Wait, what?” all traces of your headspace are gone as you jerk up to look around at your tied limbs. “What the hell?”

“Baby, it’s to keep you safe. See? They’re not tight or anything,” she tugs on all the loose rope.

“This is insane! All of this is insane!” you shout at her for the first time in weeks. It breaks her heart even more.

“I told you, mommy’s gonna fix what she did. Mommy’s gonna show you you can trust me again, gonna take care of you, of everything. Make it so this collar means something again,” she taps it on the bedside table, just out of your reach. You bury your face in your pillow and sob.

“It’s gonna be okay, baby. Mommy’s here. Mommy’s gonna make it all better,” she curls up beside you and puts an arm over you again. Despite how upset you are, you lean into it, wanting the physical comfort you associate with her.

“How’s your bottom?” she asks.

“Hurts,” you mumble.

“Do you think some Advil might help?” she asks. You nod and she gets up briefly to go get it. “Here you go, baby,” you tilt your head up and she puts the pills in, then grabs your bottle of water. You roll your eyes but suck on it to get the water to wash the pills down. You nod a thank you.

“Are you hungry?” she asks. You nod. “What do you want? I’ll even go drive through somewhere if that will help,” she says. You think for a moment.

“McDonalds?” you ask hopefully. She nods and smooths your hair back.

“McDonalds will be here soon,” she assures you. “Mommy has to go see a friend, too, so it works out. I’ll be back in half an hour or so, okay?” she says. You nod.

She kisses your head, which you recoil from, and leaves. You’re left alone to lay face-down on the crib-bed, restrained and in pain, until she returns. It’s silent. It’s lonely. You’ve grown used to either having Natasha or the sounds of the TV running since you came down here.

You think back to this morning. Everything was so different. You honestly trusted her this morning, even if it wasn’t the strongest trust. But this afternoon reminded you that she was an unstable, dangerous, paranoid lunatic. And it scared you.

Truth be told, you’ve grown to like being “little,” as Natasha calls it, letting yourself stop thinking too much and trust your mommy—Natasha, you correct yourself—to take care of you. You liked playing with her and cuddling. And when she touched you, it felt so good. So much better than when you had touched yourself. You felt loved and cared for in some twisted way.

But that was all in the past, now. You’d been doing so well, both of you, and now this. How does she expect you to trust her again? You’re not sure. You turn your head and close your eyes.

—

“You’re sure this will work, Wan?” Natasha asks her friend anxiously as she pulls her shirt back on. The red glow around her is fading. Her bra feels painfully tight and she winces.

“I’m positive. It worked for me, and especially given that you told me it’s happened before with those meds. If not tonight, by tomorrow for sure. And here’s these,” she hands Natasha a package. “They’ll be much more comfortable.”

“Thanks, Wanda. I don’t know what I’d do without you, in all honesty,” she says. Wanda smiles and hugs her.

“I could say the same to you,” she smiles. “Go on, get back to your little one,” she shoos her playfully. Natasha waves and leaves, then drives by McDonalds as promised. She’s back in a little over half an hour to see you dozing. It warms her heart to see her precious baby sleeping.

“Come on, little one, mommy brought your food,” she says, shaking you gently. You open your eyes and push yourself up off of the bed some. “Let’s get you comfy,” she helps you find a position that isn’t too uncomfortable for your aching rear, then hands you your food. “What do we say?” she asks.

“Thank you,” you say with a french fry in your mouth. She smiles. The mommy will come back later. She won’t push it for tonight.

“Do you wanna watch some cartoons?” she asks. They always engross you and help you into your littlespace. You nod and she flicks through the TV until she finds one she knows you like.

You both eat in relative silence, watching the TV. At least you’re not trying to cower anymore. That’s good, right? Progress? She hopes so.

“I’m gonna use the potty,” she tells you, then gets up. You don’t notice her bring the package with her as does.

When she returns, you notice something different about her, but you can’t tell what. It’s a small difference, then. Maybe she just fixed her hair. She’s smiling though.

You’re finished with your food soon enough, and the show ends shortly after.

“Let’s get you in the bath now baby, hm?” she suggests. You feel gross anyways, so you nod. She unties you and scoops you up in her arms.

“Let me down!” you squirm.

“Hush now, like mommy told you, I’m gonna take care of everything. Gonna show you you can trust me again,” she says. You squirm all the way to the bathroom anyways. She sets you down on the toilet facing the wall, almost straddling it.

“Huh?” you ask.

“It’s less pressure on your little bottom,” she explains. You nod and use the toilet while she gets the tub ready, but when you go to get some toilet paper, Natasha beats you to it. “I’ve got it, baby,” she says, wiping your tender area gently. You wince and try to get away from her.

“Stop it, I’m not a baby!” you try to grab her hand and move it, but she stays still, unmoving.

“Come on, little one. I know you’re in there. I know you want to let mommy take care of you,” she says. You shake your head. “Baby, this is about me proving to you that you can trust me to take care of you,” her voice is even. “I want you to choose to let me prove it to you. That’s why I haven’t given you any of the medicine I used to. But that doesn’t mean I won’t. I’ll do whatever it takes to get you to believe how much I care about you again,” she says.

“But—“ you don’t know what you were planning on saying. “But I wanna do it myself. I can do it myself,” your voice is quiet as you lose your grip on her wrist, barely audible.

“That’s the thing, precious,” she steps closer to you, finishing her task and then using her other hand to pet your head. “I know you can do it. But you don’t have to. That’s why I’m here,” she says. You groan and lean forward on the toilet tank. “Come on, you’ll feel better when you’re clean,” she picks you up and sets you in the tub, then flushes the toilet.

You sigh and let her bathe you. Your body is too sore from getting dragged and caned to wash yourself that effectively anyways. When she gets to your most sensitive areas though, you squirm away from her and reach for the soap.

“It’s too sore. I wanna wash it myself,” you say quietly.

“I’m gonna be so careful, you won’t even notice,” she gently moved your hand away and got the soap again. Tears brimmed in your eyes and your bottom lip started to form a pout. “No, baby, don’t cry,” she gasps, petting your cheek. “Tell mommy what’s going on,” she says.

“I’m scared,” you say. “I don’t want you to touch it because you hurt me,” you say. Her heart breaks again.

“Okay, sweetie, how about this: we can do it together,” she takes your hand and puts it over hers, then begins to wash you gentler than ever. Your breathing hitches and your heart kicks up, but it’s over before it can go into full-blown panic.

“All done. You did such a good job, little one,” she praises you. “Ready to get out, or do you want to play in the water some?” she asks.

“Ready to get out,” you say. She picks you up out of the bath and dries you off with a soft towel before taking you out to the bed. She pulls on a soft shirt, leaving your bottom half uncovered so as not to irritate it. She changes into the spare pjs she keeps down here and crawls into bed beside you. You don’t welcome or recoil from her touch, which she’ll take as progress.

Her chest is still dully aching, but she knows she’s pushed you far enough for tonight. Maybe tomorrow she’ll be able to coax you into it.

—

When day comes again, Natasha is treating you the way she did when she first brought you down here, only with gentleness and tenderness where there was hardness and strictness before. The lack of the sedative drugs in your system makes it more difficult, but she’s able to maneuver your squirming form through the daily ritual of getting up, using the toilet, getting dressed, brushing your hair and teeth, and finally breakfast. Whenever she can, she has you laying on your stomach on the bed, and this is one thing you don’t protest.

You notice her shifting in discomfort the whole morning though, and despite how much you dislike her at the moment, you hate to see her in pain. You work up the courage to ask after a while of watching cartoons.

“Are you hurt?” you ask.

“I… well, I have a side effect from a treatment I had done that’s causing me discomfort,” she admits.

“I’m sorry,” you say. “That sucks.”

“There’s a way you can help me,” she says, sounding more timid than you’ve heard her maybe ever before.

“What is it?” you ask. To your confusion, she started to unbutton her shirt, and then she unclips her bra, but from the top? What?

“Huh?” you blurt out.

“I’m lactating,” she says simply, squeezing her nipple a little, causing a drop of what can only be breast milk to come of it.

“I—what do you want me to do about it?” you ask, dumbfounded.

“They hurt because they’re too full,” she explains. “And it would be really helpful if you would, well… empty them. I don’t have a breast pump, of course,” she says.

“Wait, like, you want me to—to drink your milk?” you’re turning bright red. Even after everything you’ve done with her, you’re almost unbearably embarrassed.

“Yes, baby, it would really help me, plus I think that you’ll like it. And it could help us…feel closer,” she chooses her words carefully, gauging your reaction.

“It’s kinda weirding me out,” you say honestly.

“Just try it, please, baby? It’ll help me feel so much better. And I promise, if you hate it after a little while then I’ll get a pump,” she crosses her fingers behind her back.

“I… okay,” you say. This whole situation is so absurd you can hardly bother trying to resist it. She smiles and adjusts the both of you to where you can reach her breast.

It’s not like you haven’t had her tits in your mouth before. You’re not sure why you’re so nervous right now. Natasha gently puts a hand on the back of your head and pushes you a little closer. You wrap your mouth around her nipple hesitantly, unsure of what to do.

“It’s like your bottle, sweetheart,” she senses your confusion. You tentatively begin sucking, and you’re surprised by the flow of milk into your mouth. You jerk back, but Natasha keeps your head in place, groaning in relief.

When the initial shock wears off, you realize she was right—you do like it. It’s warm and sweet, and the sucking action soothes you. You relax a little.

“That’s a good baby for mommy,” Natasha says gently, stroking your head with her thumb on the hand supporting you. “Do you like mommy’s milkies?” she asks. You nod, slipping into littlespace quickly as you drink from her. “Is it yummy?” she asks out of her own curiosity. You nod, not wanting to stop to answer. She chuckles. “It’s all yours, little one.”

She moves you to her other breast when you’ve finished, looking down and noticing that her other one is indeed smaller, and it certainly feels better now. You clutch at her gently to get a good angle, and her heart swells. She’s so glad this worked, but then again, Wanda’s advice has yet to fail her, so she shouldn’t be surprised.

When you finish, your eyelids are droopy and you nuzzle into her willingly, a rarity even before she fucked everything up. She pets you gently.

“Sleepy, little one?” she asks you softly. You nod. “Want a nap?” she asks. You nod again. Between your body being exhausted already and the soothing effects of her milk, she’s not surprised you’re already tired even though you’ve only been awake for a few hours. “Let mommy check your bottom, okay?” she turns you on your tummy. You’re healing nicely. “Do you want a blankie? I think it won’t hurt,” she says. You nod and she covers you with a blanket.

“Mommy stay,” you say when she gets up. And how is she supposed to argue with that? The answer is, she isn’t, so after she turns the lights off, he curls up next to you and holds you close.

“Mommy’s here, little one,” she assures you, finding your favorite stuffie and handing it to you. “Mommy will always be here, don’t you worry.”

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bibbawrites · 4 years

Text

Don’t Get Caught - Owen Joyner x Reader (16+)

Request: mischievous/playful/giggly sneaking around with Owen on set or evading Charlie in their apartment

Word Count: 3142 words

Summary: You are a makeup artist on set for Julie and The Phantoms and quickly began messing around with Owen, but the fear of potentially losing your job if anyone finds out has the two of you sneaking around and trying your best to not be caught aka 4 times you and Owen were almost caught messing around and one time you were

Warnings: Swearing, sexual references, implied oral sex, reference to m*sturbation

A/N: hi all! so this is my first attempt at a jatp related fic so hopefully i do okay, sorry for any mistakes, most of this was written and edited from 2am-6am because those are my motivation hours i also don’t usually write reader insert so fingers crossed i dont mess this up lol. i have a ton of requests to work through so keep an eye out for things coming soon (hopefully) also, to the person who requested this, sorry it took so long (my dumb ass deleted 90% of it and had to start again) i really hope i did your idea justice :)

1. Makeup Trailer

The first time you met Owen was on your first day on set. Kenny had dragged the cast in to meet you, and something about Owen drew you in and you just knew you had to get to know the beautiful blonde boy.

Luckily your chance came sooner than expected when you were working alone in the makeup trailer a few days later. The door opened and Owen came in, smiling brightly when he saw you.

“Hey, you’re Y/N, right?” He asked. You nodded.

“I am.” You replied and he grinned.

“I’m Owen. Nice to meet you, again.” He said awkwardly.

You giggled at his awkwardness.

“Nice to meet you again too. Sit down.” You gestured to the chair in front of you and he sat down. You got to work quickly, working in silence for a few minutes before Owen spoke up.

“So how long have you been doing makeup for? You look young.” He asked.

“I’ve been doing it professionally for 5 years now. I started working in my mum’s salon when I was 15, and when I graduated I did a course to get me this job.” You told him. He paused.

“So you’re 20?” He questioned, and you nodded.

“I am.”

“Cool, I’m 19.” He said, and you hummed in response, concentrating on making sure his face didn’t looked cakey.

“So are you from around here?” You shook your head.

“Nah I moved here from Quebec.” You said.

“Alone? Or with your family or... boyfriend?” Owen asked, the last part sounding slightly bitter.

“Yeah I came alone, my mum is too busy with her salon, and my siblings are still in school. And I don’t have a boyfriend.” You told him and he grinned slightly.

“Good to know.” He muttered quietly. You raised an eyebrow, not quite hearing him properly.

“Sorry?” You asked. He shook his head.

“Nothing.”

“Okay...” You trailed off, not believing him. “Well you’re all done.”

“Already?” He frowned slightly.

“Yep.” You smiled.

“Oh. Thanks.” He stood up, pausing slightly.

“Can I get your number?” He asked, somewhat hesitantly. Realisation dawned on you.

“So that’s why you asked about a boyfriend.” You said, eyebrow raised.

“Guilty.” He grinned cheekily.

“Give me your phone.” You held out your hand and he placed his phone in it, and you quickly added a new contact, typing in your number and texting yourself from his phone.

“There. I’ll text you pretty boy.” You said, handing him his phone back. He grinned.

“I’ll see you around Y/N.” He said, turning to leave for the hair trailer. You watched him leave with a smile on your face.

A week of texting and flirting later and you found yourself alone with Owen in the makeup trailer again.

“So what scenes are you filming today pretty boy?” You questioned as you began to apply his makeup.

“Why do you always call me pretty boy?” He asked, ignoring your question.

“Because you’re pretty? And a boy?” You said, pulling a face.

“Are you flirting with me?” He grinned, and you raised an eyebrow.

“Maybe.” You said. He bit his lip.

“So if I tried to kiss you you’d say?” He asked, and your heart skipped a beat.

“Eh why not?” You said it like it was nothing but inside you were freaking out.

“Y/N.” He groaned and you giggled.

“Just kidding.” You teased.

“So?” He asked again after a moment of silence. You rolled your eyes.

“Oh my god just kiss me you dork.” Owen didn’t even take a second to think about it, he wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you into his lap, connecting your lips in a less than innocent kiss. Your lips fitted together perfectly, and he tasted faintly of blueberry and spearmint. After what felt like a lifetime he pulled away from you, leaving you panting and wanting more.

“Wow that was...” He was the first to speak, his voice breathy. You nodded.

“Yep.” You said simply. “I should probably...”

You stood up from his lap, and had barely stepped away when the door opened.

“Hey Y/N, one of my lashes came off and... oh...” Savannah’s voice came, the young actress pausing when she saw how close the two of you were.

“Hey Savannah.” You said with a smile. She returned your smile before glancing back at Owen.

“Sorry, did I interrupt something?” She asked. The two of you shook your heads.

“No, not at all.” You said.

“I was just leaving.” Owen added, standing up from his chair. Savannah raised an eyebrow.

“If you say so.” She replied as Owen left the trailer quickly. The door shut behind him and Savannah grinned at you.

“You like him.” She said, her tone teasing.

“No...” You denied. Savannah rolled her eyes.

“You so do Y/N. And I know Owen, he definitely likes you too.” She told you.

“If you say so.” You said, grabbing a new fake lash to fix the missing one.

Savannah grinned.

“Oh I know so. You’ll see.”

2. Julie’s Bedroom Set

“Come on Y/N, what’s the worst that could happen?” Owen had said as he dragged you through the filming lot towards the set of Julie’s bedroom. You had been heading off to grab some lunch when he had intercepted you and asked if you wanted to “hang”, which by this point you knew was code for hide somewhere and make out for a while. You had originally said no, but those darn puppy eyes had made you say yes before you even realised you were saying it.

“What if someone catches us?” You had questioned, but Owen silenced your worries with a blistering kiss that left you breathless.

“We’ll be fine.” He muttered as he pulled away. “Don’t stress.”

“Famous last words.” You muttered, allowing him to pull you back in and kiss you again. You ran your fingers through his hair, knowing that he would have to have it fixed up before his next scene anyways.

It had been a few weeks since that first kiss in the makeup trailer, and since then you had learnt the taste and feeling of Owen’s lips on yours, a feeling that was now so familiar to you that it felt like second nature.

You mindlessly kissed him back, thanking your past self for deciding to use your favourite chapstick flavour, choc mint, on him earlier that morning when you did his makeup for the day.

You pulled away to take a breath and he grinned at you.

“I’m glad we met.” He said. You blushed slightly.

“Me too.” You agreed.

He pulled you back in and kissed you again, this kiss more passionate than the last, and you shuffled closer to him, your lips never leaving his for a second. You could feel his hands resting on your waist, his tongue in your mouth, the scent of his cologne filling your nostrils.

Suddenly you heard a noise and you pulled away quickly, the fear of being caught overpowering your feelings for Owen.

“Someone’s coming.” You said quickly. Owen frowned.

“What?” He questioned.

“There’s someone coming.” You repeated and his expression changed to fear.

“Fuck, what do we do? Run?” He asked and you nodded.

“Yes.”

He grabbed your hands and pulled you up off the bed, linking your fingers together before dragging you off the set, the both of you giggling the whole way back to his trailer.

“It’s kinda fun, almost but not quite getting caught.” You admitted once the two of you were curled up on the couch in his trailer.

“It is.” He agreed. “But do you know what’s even more fun?”

“What?” You questioned.

“Making out with you.”

And if Owen went back to set with the taste of your orgasm on his tongue that was for only the two of you to know.

3. Owen and Charlie’s Living Room

You had just finished some finishing touches on Savannah’s makeup when Owen burst into the makeup trailer.

“You’re all done.” You told Savannah and she grinned.

“Thanks Y/N.” She stood up from the chair. “See you later. Bye Owen.”

She glanced between the two of you, before turning and giving you a quick wink as she left, leaving you and Owen alone in the trailer.

“So?” You spoke, beginning to pack up your brushes. “Why are you here?”

“Well you see, I’m finished for the day and I checked your schedule and you are too, and I was wondering if you wanted to come back to my place to watch a movie and chill or something.” Owen spoke, plopping himself into one of the chairs and spinning around.

"What about Charlie?” You asked, placing your brush bag into the large drawer of your makeup supplies.

“He’s filming the Perfect Harmony scene with Madi. We’d have the place to ourselves for at least a few hours.” You paused, considering his offer.

“Okay.” You replied simply. He cheered.

“Are you ready to go now?” He asked, standing up, and you nodded. He grinned slightly, pulling you in and kissing you softly.

“Hi, by the way.” He whispered once he pulled away. You rolled your eyes playfully.

“Let’s just go.”

You somehow managed to make it off set and back to the building where most of the cast and crew were living without anyone noticing the two of you together.

“What floor?” You asked as you hopped into the elevator.

“6.” He replied, and you pressed the button, riding in silence to his floor. He took your hand, pulling you towards the apartment he shared with Charlie, unlocking the front door and dragging you towards the couch.

“So you mentioned a movie?” You said once the two of you were settled. Owen nodded.

“I did, what do you wanna watch?” He asked.

“I actually have a better idea.” You grinned, climbing on top of him, straddling his waist.

“Oh I see.” He replied, grabbing your top and pulling you down to kiss you roughly.

It felt like no time had passed at all when suddenly the front door unlocked.

“Fuck.” You said, jumping off him quickly and settling onto the couch next to Owen, pretending as if you’d been there the whole time. Charlie entered the room, frowning slightly when he saw you sat on the couch.

“Y/N? What are you doing here?” Charlie questioned, throwing his bag onto the chair.

“I.. Um...” You stumbled. “I was just leaving.”

You stood up quickly, thankful that the shoes you wore were slip on’s.

Charlie eyed Owen carefully as the door shut and Owen shrugged.

“Should I ask?” Charlie questioned. Owen shook his head.

“Nope.”

4. Owen’s Bedroom

After a couple of close calls on set and in the living room, the next time you came over you and Owen went straight to his room.

He laid down on his bed and you climbed on top of him, kissing him instantly.

“God you’re perfect.” He muttered, lips and tongues combining in a mess of passion and lust. Owen pulled at your shirt, tugging it over your head, and you did the same for him. His lips trailed down your neck, sucking gently to leave a mark.

The front door opened and Owen groaned.

“Shit, is that Charlie?” You asked. He nodded. “What do we do?”

“Uh... get in the closet.” He suggested and you giggled, grabbing onto your shirt so Charlie wouldn’t see it if he came in.

“Owen? You here?” Charlie called, and Owen dragged you into the closet, pulling the door shut behind you.

“Shh.” Owen whispered. You tried to hide your smile.

“I didn’t say anything.” You told him, and he rolled his eyes playfully. The door to Owen’s room opened and the two of you froze, bodies pressed together.

“God I hope that’s your phone pressed against my leg.” You whispered after a moment. Owen pulled a face in the darkness.

“Uh... no.” He replied, and you giggled awkwardly.

“Don’t laugh, this isn’t funny.” He whined.

“It is funny. We’re trapped in your closet waiting for Charlie to leave and you still manage to be turned on?” You questioned with a giggle

“I can’t help it when someone as attractive as you is pressed up against me. Plus you don’t have a shirt on so...” He trailed off.

“Oh yeah?” You pressed yourself against his body more forcefully. Owen groaned quietly.

“Fuck, stop it.” He muttered. You smirked.

“No.” You whispered, and Owen placed his hands on your waist.

“Y/N...” His voice was low, and just the sound of it sent flutters through your stomach.

“Owen...” You replied just as quietly. “Before you ask, I’m not gonna fuck you in a closet.”

“Why not?” He whined. You rolled your eyes.

“You shouldn’t even have to ask that question.”

The front door slammed shut and Owen let out a sigh of relief, pushing open the closet door. You stepped past him and made your way over to the bed, Pulling your shirt back on before sitting down to pull your shoes on.

“Wait where are you going?” He questioned, pouting.

“Back to set, I have a job to do, remember?” You reminded him, tying your laces on your left shoe before reaching for the right.

“Can’t you call in sick?” He tried. You raised an eyebrow.

“From my lunch break?” He shrugged.

“Food poisoning?”

“Owen.” You gave him a look and he groaned, flopping onto the bed.

“Fine. But what am I supposed to do about this?” He motioned towards his crotch. You stood up, grabbing your phone, and walked towards the door, pausing before you exited the room.

“You have a hand. Use it.” And with that, you left.

+1. Owen and Charlie’s Kitchen

It was a day off from filming so you decided to have a lazy day. It was almost lunch time when you woke up, and you would have slept longer if it wasn’t for your phone ringing obnoxiously from its spot on your nightstand.

You rolled over, grabbing the phone and answered without even checking the caller ID.

“Hello?” You spoke, voice full of sleep.

“Good morning, Charlie has gone for a hike, wanna come over?” Owen’s voice came through the phone.

“Sure, why not. Give me half an hour to have a shower and get changed.” You replied, already climbing out of bed. Owen cheered causing you to smile slightly.

“Awesome, I’ll see you in half an hour.” He said. “And don’t eat anything.”

“Okay.” You replied, and before you could even say goodbye he had hung up. You rolled your eyes, throwing your phone back onto the bed and grabbing a simple outfit of a crop t-shirt and shorts out of your wardrobe, before heading into the bathroom to get ready.

25 minutes later you were knocking on the door of Owen and Charlie’s apartment. The door opened, revealing a shirtless Owen, and you had to stop yourself from checking him out as he let you in.

“Any reason why I wasn’t allowed to eat?” You questioned, following him down the hall into the kitchen.

“Because, I thought we could make pancakes together.” He gestured to the pile of ingredients sitting on the counter.

“How domestic. Didn’t realise we had become a married couple.” You teased, and he blushed slightly.

“I just thought it would be fun.” He defended, and you placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

“It will be. And delicious.” You agreed.

He grinned, grabbing the ingredients.

“Let’s get started then.”

Somehow you found yourself sitting on the counter, eating the batter while Owen cooked the pancakes.

“There!” Owen exclaimed, flipping the last pancake onto the plate he had gotten out. “All done.”

He turned to face you, his smile turning into a look of concentration.

“You have a little something...” He said, positioning himself between your legs. You paused, waiting for him to move. Slowly he lifted his hand, running his thumb along your bottom lip.

“Much better.” He muttered. The two of you were still, a stand off to see who would make the first move. You leaned in slowly, connecting your lips in a soft kiss.

It was as if the first brush of your lips opened the floodgates. Owen grabbed onto your thighs, dragging you forward, and you wrapped your legs around his waist, the pancakes long forgotten.

You tangled your hands through his hair, moaning slightly when you felt his hands on your ass, and he took that as an opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth.

You were so caught up in each other that you didn’t even hear the front door open.

“Hey Owen, I forgot my-” Charlie’s voice came, stopping abruptly as he took in the scene in front of him.

Owen stepped away from you quickly, but even if Charlie hadn’t seen you kissing, it was obvious what the two of you had been up to.

No one blinked. Finally, Owen broke the silence.

“You were meant to be hiking all day.” He said, somewhat defensively.

“I forgot my phone, so I came back for it. I figured you’d be on the couch where I left you. I didn’t realise you’d be...” He stopped, focusing his attention on you. “Hi Y/N.”

You waved awkwardly.

“So...” Charlie looked between you and Owen. “Am I pretending I didn’t see this, or...” He trailed off.

You and Owen shared a look before nodding.

“Just for now, at least.” You said, and Charlie nodded.

“Got it. Well, have fun. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do. Oh, and if you have sex on the kitchen counter please clean it afterwards. I eat off that thing.” He winked at Owen and before either of you could respond he had left the room.

“Sorry about him.” Owen sighed slightly.

“You didn’t know he’d leave his phone. Besides, now we can hang out here together and not have to worry about Charlie walking in on something he doesn’t know about.” You replied, and Owen grinned, leaning in to kiss you again.

You had just started to find a rhythm in kissing again when a cleared throat broke you apart.

“Dude!” Owen exclaimed, glaring at Charlie who was leaning against the wall, grinning cheekily.

“Just wanted to say goodbye. And warn you that I’ll be back at 3, so make sure any... activities-” He winked suggestively. “Are done by then.”

“Get out.” Owen glared at him. Charlie grinned, turning to leave quickly.

“Bye Y/N!” He called back as he left.

“Bye.” You called, giggling slightly.

Owen rolled his eyes as the front door shut behind Charlie. Focusing his attention back on you he smiled slightly.

“Now where were we?” He questioned, pulling you back in and connecting your lips again.

And if you did end up having sex on the kitchen counter, Charlie would never have to know.

#owen joyner #owen patrick joyner #owen joyner smut #not really smut #more implied smut #julie and the phantoms #charlie gillespie #owen joyner x reader #reader insert

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slippinmickeys · 3 years

Note

Head Canon AU Mulder and Scully as Archeologist and Scientist at a dig in ruins in the Amazon.

Anon! Thank you so much. I saw this this morning and got that rare inspiration wherein I launched myself at this, and kind of love what I came up with. I hope you enjoy it! (It is unbeta-ed)

1. The University was being cheap. That was the first thing. Piggybacking off the hard work he’d put in: years worth of toil to arrange this meticulously set-up dig. If they wanted to send a team to study advanced medical uses of the vast biome of the Amazon rainforest, they’d do far better sending this approaching medical team into the interior. His team -- his dig -- was practically on the outskirts. The forest around them had already been explored and researched, catalogued and referenced. The real biological finds -- the cures for Alzheimer’s, cancer -- would be found in the unknown, in those places even the aboriginal people hadn’t stepped. The University was being cheap, plunking in a science team on a completely separate mission with his own, just to save some cash. That was the bottom line.

If it hadn’t been so oppressively hot so early in the morning, he might not have been quite so irritated. As it was, he stood on the bank of the river and ran an already sweat-soaked handkerchief over the back of his neck, willing the putting little outboard Evinrude to chug a little more quickly upstream. It was hot and stiflingly humid, and he’d wanted to be at the dig two hours ago, before the heat of the day set in. Too late, that.

The incoming medical team -- if you could call it a team -- seemed to consist of only one person. A short-statured wisp of a woman (if the high, top-knotted messy red bun was any indication of sex) who sat low in the backseat of the approaching riverboat, surrounded by expensive-looking boxes filled with technology that probably wouldn’t operate well in the humidity. He blew an irritated raspberry and shuffled his feet in the muddy squelch of the riverbank.

The stout block of the driver hefted a rope at Mulder as they approached, which Mulder caught easily and wrapped around a nearby tree.

“Tudo vai bem?” Mulder inquired as the man cut the engine and grunted an affirmative.

The passenger stood, keeping a hand on the side of the little tin vessel, its stern fishtailing out into the current. Mulder stepped up and held out a hand, which she grasped gratefully. He pulled and she took a confident leap, landing lightly on the ground next to him.

“Dr. Mulder, I presume?” she said on a light breath, looking up at him with a small smile, having to crane her neck to do so. She had astonishingly blue eyes, a color he’d only seen once, in an ice-cave in the far north. He shook his head after a moment and realized that he was still holding her hand. He dropped it, nodding.

“I thank God, doctor, I have been permitted to see you,” she finished, quoting the journals of Henry Morton Stanley.

Mulder outright laughed. He was smitten immediately.

2. “Be careful with that!” she’d barked, as Langly handed out her equipment to a couple of waiting locals that had been working on the project for three years.

Mulder held up a calming hand.

“You’re working with archeologists, Dr. Scully,” he said softly, “my team has the gentlest hands in the Southern Hemisphere.”

She quirked one side of a grin at him even as she threw a worried look over her shoulder at her equipment.

“Come on,” he said, giving her sleeve a gentle tug, “let me show you around.”

He showed her the latrine first, watching her face carefully for a reaction, but she just nodded nonchalantly and kept walking. Then the mess, and the tent where she’d be working when she wasn’t in the field.

“And this,” he said, taking her to an empty patch of jungle, “is where your bunk will be. My apologies that it’s not set up. There’s no female barracks and we were told you wouldn’t be here until next week. The radio communique we got this morning informing us of your arrival came as something of a surprise.”

“I’m eager to get started,” was all she said in response.

Mulder walked on and she followed him.

“I’m afraid the only empty cot is in my tent,” he said sheepishly. “Dr. Byers headed home for a funeral last month and we’re not expecting him back until March. I’ll be sure yours is set up right away, but takes some time as we have to build a platform first. Have you done jungle field work before?”

“I flew here from Borneo,” she said. “It’s not a problem.” With that, she flipped back the tent’s outer curtain and ducked inside like she owned the place.

She never did move out.

3. Scully’s father had been diagnosed with stage four pancreatic cancer and hadn’t lived long enough to see her graduate from medical school. She would not let it happen to anyone else if she could help it, she’d said. She worked like a woman possessed.

Against all advice, she would march into the jungle alone and be gone for days at a time. When her grad students finally arrived, they couldn’t keep up with her, and she’d frequently leave them at base camp to work on the equipment (which, Mulder was not really that pleased to report, did have a tendency to malfunction in the miasmic humidity and heat of the Amazon basin. It wasn’t, he admitted, that easy always being right). Occasionally she could be talked into taking one of the local hires with her, but she felt bad taking workers that Mulder’s project funding paid for, and anyway, they weren’t trained in her science, she would tell him.

“I wish you wouldn’t go out on your own,” he murmured into the cup of her ear one night, a trickle of sweat running from her hairline and onto the tip of his nose.

She turned on the cot, a feat, considering its fairly narrow dimensions, and pressed her forehead against his, the flimsy pillow damp beneath them both.

“I’m careful,” she whispered, and threw a leg over him, her dewy mons pressing into the naked flesh of his thigh.

“It’s not safe-” he began to protest, but she’d captured his lips with her own and he fell headlong into the lush heat of her -- whatever concern that had been on the tip of his tongue lost to her rapacious mouth as it trailed a slick path down his torso and latched, vitae and greedy, around the rigid length of him. It was bliss. She was bliss. If he had ever thought he knew love, he was wrong.

4. The whole camp knew they were together. Her tent had become a kind of catchall storage area, and it’s not like nylon canvas could contain the breathy moans of their pleasure. That and she’d just plunk down and sit on his lap whenever the only camp chair available around the mess tent was the one with the tricky leg.

Anyway, what happened in the field stayed in the field, unless it was up for peer review.

“Are you guys going to get married or something?” Mulder’s newest grad student asked one night when the air had actually cooled enough to take the edge off of everybody’s temper. Beer had arrived with their latest resupply and Frohike had syphoned off some LN2 to cool it and it was frosty and rich and maybe the best thing Mulder had ever tasted aside from Scully’s skin.

Scully, from atop his lap, merely shrugged and took a leisurely sip of brew. Mulder pictured it sliding down her throat, the cold blooming into her belly and he dry swallowed, then leaned forward and kissed her shoulder.

“God, don’t be such a newb,” drawled Langly, pressing his glasses into his face compulsively.

Mulder knew what Langly meant. They’d all seen their share of field romances that fizzled the second your boots stepped back onto University soil, though something about Scully felt different; the way their minds worked together, the way she felt in his arms.

“I’m married to the job, bro,” Scully said, but reached back and squeezed the skin just above Mulder’s hip. He kissed her shoulder again.

“D’you tell her about the helo data?” Frohike asked, looking at Mulder from his own camp chair. The little man sat low and back in it with his shoulders hunched up, and Mulder thought he looked a bit like a toad, or an ogre guarding a burial mound.

They’d gotten the funding from a billionaire alumni to fly a helicopter over the whole of the basin in this sector of the Amazon, using light detection radar. Basically, it shot out billions of lasers as it flew overhead that were able to penetrate the rainforest’s canopy and map the landscape below.

“You had a chance to analyze it?” Scully asked, craning her head to look at him squarely.

He nodded, smiling. He’d been saving this to tell her especially.

“And you were able to combine it with the satellite data?” she asked, excited.

He nodded again. “Sóis,” he said, smiling. The settlements they’d found took their name from the Portuguese word for ‘suns.’ They were round villages, all with remarkably similar layouts, with elongated mounds circling a central plaza. When seen from above, they looked like the rays of the sun. “Pre-Columbian.”

She jumped off his lap, spilling half her beer in the process. It dripped down the bare skin of her knee, unnoticed.

“Are you kidding?!” her excitement made him giddy.

“It gets better,” he said, and she cocked her head, waiting for him to elaborate. “They’re laid out like the cosmos,” he said, giving her a full-watt smile as he rose out of the chair to stand in front of her. “We’re already plotted three different villages, all laid out in the exact design of southern constellations.” Her mouth dropped open. “Canis Major, Hydra, and Crux Australis.”

She launched herself into his arms, practically squealing -- something he’d never heard her do -- and he held her, looking around at the smiling faces of the other scientists in the mess. The find would make his career, and her excitement for him touched him profoundly.

5. Martim, one of their local hires, came careening into camp, breathing so hard he had to put his hands on his knees to catch his breath. His face was a mask of anxiety and fear. Mulder felt dread bloom in his gut, and he dropped what he was doing -- actually dropped the computer tablet he was holding to the wet forest floor -- and ran over to the man, grasping him firmly by the shoulder.

“Martim?” he said, “O que aconteceu?”

“Dr. Scully,” the man heaved, his accent thick. He could still scarcely breathe.

“Where is she?” Mulder didn’t have the emotional wherewithal to translate from English. “What happened?”

“Hurt,” the man wheezed, “she’s hurt.”

It took nearly thirty minutes to assemble a rescue party, and they had to let Martim rest for a bit and give him food and water before he could take them back out into the jungle where he’d left Scully. Mulder was beside himself by the time they finally started off, impatient as a recalcitrant child, sick to his stomach with worry.

It took three hours to hack into the area where she’d been doing her search, and a further twenty minutes of calling her name before they heard her weak call back.

Mulder raced ahead without thought to obstacle or danger, and skidded to a halt when he was practically on top of her. She was leaning back against the base of a large tree, holding onto her right ankle, which she had elevated on her left knee. There was a length of rope beside her and a climbing harness around her butt and waist.

“Scully,” he panted, falling to his knees beside her.

She smiled at him weakly, her face pale and sweaty.

“I think it’s broken,” she hissed, pointing at her ankle.

“What happened?” Mulder asked, as the rest of the rescue party trundled in behind him, pulling off backpacks and other equipment. Someone handed Scully a bottle of water.

“I saw a fungus I’d never seen before growing on the bark midway up this tree,” she said after guzzling half a bottle of Arrowhead. “The carabiner failed on my descent.”

“Oh, Scully,” Mulder said, reaching out to tuck a damp lock of titian hair behind her ear.

“I got the sample, though,” she said with a tired, but victorious glint in her eye.

They weren’t back into camp until well after nightfall.

Mulder picked her up from the field stretcher and carried her into their tent, depositing her gently onto her cot. Langly came in behind him and handed him two fresh cold packs before ducking back out without a word. Mulder popped them to activate the chemicals and pressed them gingerly on either side of Scully’s ankle.

“I’m going to call for a medical evac,” he said quietly.

“Don’t you dare,” she said, grabbing at his hand and squeezing it. “Mulder, don’t you fucking dare.”

“Scully, we’ve got to follow protocol here,” he said, trying not to sound put out.

“Do not take me out of the field, Mulder. Promise me.”

“Scully-”

“Promise me!”

“How will you even work?” he said a little desperately.

“It doesn’t need setting or surgery,” she said, gesturing to her injured limb.

“How do you know that without an X-ray?”

“I’m a medical doctor,” she said, by way of explanation, “I can secure it with supplies we have on hand. I can work from my cot for a few days and make crutches out of tree limbs. Please, Mulder,” she said, and he could feel himself relenting, even if it would get him in trouble. “Please.”

He sighed, and she smiled up at him weakly, though he didn’t say a thing.

“Thank you,” and closed her eyes, relaxing into her pillow, “thank you.”

Six weeks later the canvas of their tent ripped back and the greenish glow of leaf-filtered sunlight shone into the murky, damp depths. Mulder rose from where he was resting on his cot and looked to the entrance. Scully stood there, armpit resting on her improvised crutch, her hair a rich autumn frizz around her head. Her eyes were wide and shining, and there was something incandescent about her in that moment -- an energy pulsing from her that lit his soul from within.

“Scully-” he started, but she held up a hand to silence him. Her hands were shaking.

“I found it,” she said, her voice breathy with the triumph of discovery, “Mulder, I found it.”

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leejeongz · 4 years

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jealous treasure (hyunsuk-jaehyuk)

requested: yes, by anon

🔅hiii! thanks for requesting. sorry this took so long 😭 i wrote it all and the. decided i didn’t like what i wrote so i had a breakdown and started again. but nevertheless here we are. I hope you like it! i made jihoon’s a little longer since idk he was the one this was based off of🔅

⛱ a/n no. 2 i’m gonna use another member in each one because it’s easier than making up a whole new person and explaining a bit about them for each one if that makes sense. but this is just for fun, it’s fictitious, remember that pls⛱

find the other members here

🪐 hyunsuk:

having never met his closest friends before, you wanted to dress nicely on the day. you grabbed the accessories that you had laid out the night before that went perfectly with your outfit and put them on while admiring how great you looked in the mirror.

upon arriving at the diner, you spotted your boyfriend and his friends sat closely together. you slowly walked over to their booth, not wanting to seem too eager. your boyfriend stood up and flashed you a smile before pointing for you to sit next to a boy dressed in blue and while, who you later found out was named mashiho. you ordered from the menu together and started to chat amongst yourselves.

“so what do you do, y/n?” the boy next to you asked while hyunsuk was distracted.

“i’m a student, but i work part time. actually i work just over the road” you pointed to the sports shop over the way.

“i think i’ve seen you in there before, sorry i didn’t recognise you, you look so different when you’re not wearing their fluorescent uniform,” he smiled, pointing to the bright trainers you now remember selling him a few weeks ago.

“oh that was you?” you laughed loud enough to catch hyunsuk’s attention, who’s smile faded as he glanced at the pair of you bonding “nice taste” you complimented mashiho.

“not as nice as mine though, right?” hyunsuk piped up, while brushing the shoulder of his shirt.

“it’s not a competition” you smiled, awkwardly, not wanting to hurt anyone’s feelings.

“but if it was…” one of his other friends spoke. you made a mental note that from now on, you hated that guy.

you thought about your response for a while. mashiho looked disinterested, too busy picking the crispiest fries from his plate. your boyfriend, however, looked a little helpless, he was practically begging with his eyes for you to compliment him.

“then i think my boyfriend would win. hyunsuk has better taste than anyone, and i think we can all agree” you rattled on, face burning, knowing that the others around the table thought you were just sucking up to him.

“well of course, i fell for you, baby” hyunsuk winked in your direction while his friends made exaggerated heaving noises at your cringiness as a couple.

🌸 jihoon:

you have the pettiest boyfriend, you know it, he knows it, everyone knows it. he gets jealous even at the tiniest things, but it’s kind of endearing. your graduation was no exception, he really wanted to be happy all afternoon, but seeing you with so many guys hugging you while you cried tears of joy, made him mad, that should be him.

to treat you (and also to show off to everyone that you were his) he took you to the bar in town that you liked the most. you sat down at the table for two and scanned over the menu, wondering why you were even looking, knowing you were going to order the same thing as always. you told jihoon what you wanted as you could see the waiter getting nearer to your table, he always ordered for you when you asked him to.

“y/n” you heard coming from behind you. you turned around to see a familiar face, junghwan, and following behind him, a friend of his that you’d once met in passing.

“i saw that you graduated today! congratulations!” he spoke, indicating that you stand for a hug. meanwhile, jihoon ordered, but not without side eyeing you and this boy.

“can we join a table onto ours please and make it sit 4 people?” you asked the waiter who nodded and did as you requested without a fuss.

jihoon shot you the darkest stare at you sat opposite to him. “our order will be out way before theirs” he snarled quietly.

“it’s fine we can bring them out at the same time” the waiter smiled at him upon hearing your boyfriends petty remark.

“thanks” jihoon replied sarcastically, the smile on his face showing clear signs that the waiter needs to back off now.

“so why are you here?” junghwan asked “you should be going out partying, is he not letting you?” he looked over a jihoon after joking around with you a little.

“there are no parties to go to” you frowned, “but i’d rather spend my days with jihoon, and now you guys, than with my classmates anyway” you bubbled. you looked over once again at your boyfriend, who’s expression was still as stern as when they'd arrived. you kicked at his leg gently and flashed him a warm smile, hoping he’d mimic it and look at least a little genuine with it.

“i’m going to the bathroom, order quickly” jihoon told the pair. you glared at him as he walked off, all while still trying to participate in the conversation. jihoon returned with an obviously fake smile, yet it was an improvement so you went along with it. to your surprise, jihoon had managed to endure 3 drinks before deciding it was time to leave and go home with you, which you were more than happy to do since the bar was getting pretty full. you said your goodbye to the two friends with a small hug, while jihoon watched from the side. “come on” he rolled his eyes as he watched your arms wrap around junghwan’s shoulders.

leaving the bar, jihoon’s hand engulfed yours. “there has got to be some kind of reward for spending 90 minutes with them. oh and for watching all of those other guys hug you” he whispered into your ear “i’m sure you’ll think of something”. he laughed a little and pressed a warm kiss against your cheek. you smirked, knowing the perfect way to show him that you were all his, now almost too eager to get home.

⚡️ yoshi:

“it’s just what we needed” yoshi relaxed back onto the sofa, stretching an arm out to the side and wrapping it around you casually. you threw the remote onto the coffee table and nestled into your boyfriend. today was movie day, a full marathon of romcoms, chosen by you.

the first movie, you cried. the second, you cried again. however, by the third, you’d gotten a little bit bored. you pulled your phone from your back pocket, your fidgeting catching yoshi’s attention.

“hey what’s wrong?” he asked, his question fading as he read your notifications. “why did haruto ring you-“ he paused to check the number “4 times?” he didn’t think too much of it. you guys were friends, your boyfriend just wanted to know the gossip.

you called him back straight away, leaving your boyfriend clueless. he waited patiently as you spoke on the phone. “no way!” you let out with a smile “i’ll be there in a second” you got up, wafting your hand so that yoshi would follow.

“what why?” he stayed put, waiting for a response.

“he said he’s got a surprise for me” you rushed, getting your coat on as quickly as possible. yoshi, once again, sat back in his comfortable position, which you knew meant that he was not moving any time soon.

“but what about our movie day” he whined and sulked. you rolled your eyes knowing he wouldn’t stop for anything, you had to give in. you slowly started removing your jacket, pulling your phone out of the pocket and launching it towards the sofa.

“i’ll just text him and tell him to give it to me, the love of your life, okay?” he continued “gosh he knew it was our day, he should have left us alone instead of distracting you”

you smiled at his hint of jealousy, hoping it wouldn’t be the last you ever saw, because honestly, his mini tantrum was rather cute.

🌟 junkyu:

“what homework is that? what subject?” junkyu shuffled through your sheets of paper over your shoulder with a pout while you worked.

“considering i study japanese i think it would be pretty wild if it was the timeline of the spanish armada, don’t you?” you snapped unexpectedly, you’re not even sure why you said it in the tone you did.

“i was just making conversation” he slumped onto the bed while pulling a face behind your back, only then noticing the familiar young boy on your phone screen. “oh, you’re calling someone, i’ll leave, give you some privacy” he pouted once again, dragging himself from your bed. “clearly i'm not needed here”

you turned to asahi, the boy you were calling, who was generously helping with your work, as he avoided eye contact with you. you stared at the small image of yourself in the corner, biting your lip with guilt.

“i’m sorry junkyu, i didn’t mean to snap” you admitted, throwing your head into your hands as soon as the words left your mouth. you’d be kind of stressed lately with all the learning, but that doesn’t mean you can take it out on your boyfriend, you thought.

“it’s okay, you shouldn’t be nice to me when your handsome tutor is calling, i understand” he rolled his eyes and tutted with a hint of exaggeration. it didn’t take long for him to register what had just happened though, as a few seconds later you felt his arms wrap around you from the back and a gentle kiss placed on top of your head. he turned off the call and whispered an almost silent “sorry”.

“i only called him to help with this one passage.”

“you don’t need to explain to me. but why didn’t you ask me for help?” he blew his cheeks up and pouted in a way that was even bigger than before. “i'm really good at japanese” he boasted

“junkyu, sweetie, next time maybe” you giggled, finally regaining the power to sit up again slightly. “but your jealousy was kinda cute, so maybe i will call mashiho next time”

“don’t even think about it” he hushed you in a harsh, yet sarcastic tone.

☀️ mashiho:

it was pretty rare that mashiho got jealous, or that he told you/showed you that he was at least. you and doyoung actually spent a lot of time together these days and your boyfriend never seemed to mind so you never stopped. but little did you know, he’d just about reached breaking point. he was tired of you “not being able to meet up with him” because you’d already made arrangements with doyoung to do something. he wanted to do those things with you.

“where are you going? you don’t usually dress like that on a sunday?” he questioned as you headed towards the door.

“i told you, doyoung and i are gonna watch that movie today. i can’t go in my pjs” you replied.

“oh with doyoung, i should have guessed” he rolled his eyes, leaning back against the sofa. he pulled his phone from his pocket, ready to text one of his friends once again to ask if they wanted to do something.

“what’s that supposed to mean?” you turned your head back to look at him. he looked hot like that, but you didn’t think right now was the time to bring it up.

“you’re always doing things with him. would it be so wrong if you went and watched a movie with me?” he asked as you walked towards him, ready to hug him and apologise. you thought for a moment, realising that you had been spending more time with doyoung than your own boyfriend, but was it really all that bad? you sat besides him and placed his phone on the sofa so he had nothing to do other than talk to you about this.

“so i can’t see my friends?” you snapped back at him in a higher pitch, even though he wasn’t shouting at you. his eyes softened and his right eye filled with tears, shortly followed by his left. you refused to look at him, half in anger, half in shame.

“that’s not what i meant, you know that. just go, have fun” he ran his hand down your arm while you sat in silence. it really was that bad. you didn’t want to be THAT couple who never did anything together.

“do you want to come with?” you smiled.

“maybe, only if we, you and i, can go bowling afterwards, alone” he replied as if he was still mad.

“of course!” you exclaimed, it was an offer you couldn't refuse. upon hearing your response, mashiho grabbed your hand, leading you to his room which was full of clothes.

“now, which tshirt matches with yours the best?” he hummed.

❄️ jaehyuk:

more than the party itself, wayyy more than the party itself, you enjoyed having your friends over beforehand to get ready and vibe with. tonight you expected only your boyfriend but he ended up bringing along another friend too, yedam, who you were actually pretty close to, he even introduced you to jaehyuk in the first place.

both had gotten changed pretty quickly in the bathroom while you slipped into your outfit in your bedroom. you were just applying a layer of lipstick when you heard a knock at the door.

“can i come in?” yedam asked.

you shouted a “yes” and he did so. his outfit was all black except for the flannel he’d thrown on, his hair was a little messy and his boots were untied.

“look at my nails” he smiled brightly, offsetting his outfit perfectly. “i just painted them so they’re wet, and jaehyuk is doing his business in there. can you tie my shoes for me, please?” he begged. you agreed and offered your chair as a place for him to put his shoe. “tight trousers” he shrugged, leaving you with no other option but to get down on the floor and tie them, it was a good job it was yedam, you thought.

“get up” jaehyuk’s voice could be heard from a mile away, despite how softly spoken he is. you stood up and looked over at him with wide eyes “oh i thought you were proposing” he laughed, playing the whole thing off as a joke. “let me, i don’t want your outfit to get dirty, which might i add looks extremely good, honey” he complimented while getting down on the floor to tie his friends' laces.

“yoon jaehyuk, are you jealous?” you smirked, looking over at yedam, who was smiling too.

“no, i just don’t want your outfit to get messed up, i just said that” he lied once again. “but if you were proposing yeah, i think i’d be pretty jealous” he continued.

#treasure #treasure reactions #treasure imagines #choi hyunsuk #hyunsuk #jaehyuk #yoon jaehyuk #mashiho #junkyu #yoshi #park jihoon #jihoon #long post

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herstarburststories · 4 years

Text

the first step is always the hardest.

Pairing: au!dean winchester x reader

Summary: Huntercorp!Dean asks you out on a date.

A/N: I'm happy with how this one turned out. It's very different from my usual to do, but so cute! au!dean lives in my and in brazil right now sjhsjs. Anyway, this is my part for @firefly-in-darkness 2k challenge! Congrats again, honey. My prompt was “I’m just a simple man trying to make my way in the universe.” And this was requested by @anaelsbrunette.

Warnings: mutual pining and adorableness.

Some things aren't supposed to be hard. In Dean Winchester's opinion, this is one of them. What he's about to do isn't quite professional or preferred by his dad -- although, not exactly against HunterCorp's strict code of conduct. Alright, he might have to report to HR about the relationship due the anti-harassment policy if you two ever get that far, but that's another point. The fact right now is, it shouldn't be this hard to blurt out a simple 'would you like to go out with me?' towards the woman he had been pining for weeks.

Dean asked girls out before, and three out five said yes. Usually, his goofy way of flirting is enough to make them take the lead. When it doesn't happen, though, the Winchester laces his hang out proposal with wiggling brows and a suggestive smirk. They'd laugh and a date was settled.

He isn't shy. Dean gets embarrassed easily and yes, he is a little too spoiled to have a larger vision of the world, but he can get his way with the women he's interested in. Therefore, it shouldn't be that difficult, right? In theory, safely hiding in the back of his head, it isn't. The hunter remains passing some vague steps on his mind: 1.) Go to you. 2.) Try not to get lost at the sight of you. 3.) Don't try his Spanish to impress you because it's not going to work. 4.) Smile in a boyish way, just being cool. 5.) Ask you out. Samuel said it was a good plan. He just needs to execute it, get through his words and make them into actions.

So why is it so excruciatingly hard?

You, a HunterCorp's rookie, recently graduated in their new worldwide program to recruit willing hunters that weren't born in the life. You are smart, bilingual, pretty, strategic, spontaneous, and strong. You laugh loud as if joy should be going inside everyone's ear, but you also fight to kill with both words and trained combat skills. You, one of the best hunters of HunterCorp, which is the only thing Dean would ever try to say he was compared to you. You, Y/N Y/L/N, the girl with fancy red boots and tight jeans, is everything Dean never dreamed of and way out of his league.

You are a ferocious scream in civility that shakes his ground and makes him want to know how human savagery felt like after years being spoiled. You tease the green eyed hunter, never leading to evilness, and always with a beam that makes him feel lucky to be the fool to your kingdom. Dean feels comfortable with you, like taking his expensive socks off at home and chuckling with his mouth full, or even attempting a new food that makes his tongue experience marvelous flavors never felt before.

The eldest Winchester brother is almost dancing around his own feet for five minutes and counting. Gulping nervously every time he hears the noise of a door opening as he shuts his eyes, picturing the perfect ending of 'asking Y/N on a date' plan.

Okay, fine. Maybe he does have a reason for envisioning the possible difficulties of this situation. How could he not? Dean wouldn't want to make you uncomfortable by asking you out again if you said no today. It's a now or never situation. How can he not be sweating in his levis?

“Duncan?” you ask, your voice exhaling a name that isn't his, but it catches Dean's attention nonetheless. He must have been listening what you were saying before even turning around to catch a glimpse of you. “Duncan!”

You poke his arm, causing him to move quickly to face you. Despite getting his name wrong, you look gorgeous: your hair was a mess like usual after spending too long in your office, sunglasses on the top of your head, and a joyful grin on your painted lips.

He straightens his posture to regain some confidence. “Dean. Dean Winchester.”

Your eyebrows knit together in a weight of confusion. "Who are you?"

This is it, his mind whispers. Rule number four, be cool. Say that thing that guy says in the movie which Sammy made you watch! Dean licks his lips, leaning against the counter. He shrugs, attempting to get in a persona that would only be him in another universe. “I’m just a simple man trying to make my way in the universe. You know, Dean Winchester.”

His shoulders drop as you let out a laugh, and suddenly the perfect threat in his fantasy became a funny joke. He doesn't even waste time being too embarrassed, though: he loves that sound.

“I'm kidding, Dean Winchester. I know who you are. You know, you're kind of the owner of this building?” you say humorously, pointing around the establishment.

Dean's brows arch quickly as he replies: “Technically, it's my father.”

“Who cares about the technical, right?” Of course you would say that with your own sequin smile and a playful wink. Who gives you the right to make his heart go wild? God, he sounds like a chick-flick. “Anyway, do you need something? I noticed you standing at my door.”

“Yes.” His stupendous moment. The stage is his and he better make it worth it. Dean's going to ask you out now, and then, he sees your features changing into curiosity. You're so adorable with your soft frown and head cocked, hair cascading down like one of the surrealistic paintings decorating his office walls. It reminds the Winchester of the way their brilliant colors and space tangle together to make something so gorgeous he couldn’t bear to give it another name but art. God, what if you say no? What if you say yes? What if everything is weird after that? “No. I mean, yes. I...”

“Are you okay?” You place a hand on his bicep. One touch, a blaze starting to burn in the best ways. His heart gives out, beating too crazily to be properly felt -- that doesn't help one bit.

“Yeah, this muchacho is okay.” Dean points at himself with two thumbs. Here goes all the rules in less than three minutes of chatting. He sighs to himself, offering you a pageant smile. “Just forget about it. I was going to ask for a report on your last hunt, but you can send it to my email.”

“Sure thing. I'll send you them after I come back from lunch. McDonald's waits for me.” The Winchester doesn't know if his mind is playing tricks on him, but he can swear he saw disappointment on your face. It could've been that tell, your hair brushing your lips like he craves to, or even how you blink so adorably under the dim light that makes a sudden glimmer of newfound courage hit him. Granted, it's with a trembling voice, but still.

“Maybe I could go have lunch with you?” Dean can practically hear his brother saying, be assertive, ask her out. He rushes to correct himself. “You. You could grab lunch with me. If you want. We could go have lunch together.”

“You like McDonald's?” You bit your bottom lip, arms crossed despite your subtle chortle.

“Of course.” Dean scoffs, gaining a glare of yours for a few seconds before he sighs with a shrug, a flush of pink coloring his cheeks. “No. Processed food isn't a thing in my house. Dad likes to spoil us with homemade meals and scotch.”

“Well, I'm sure John doesn't know how to cook quesadillas. I know the perfect place we can go.” You grab his wrist, and despite all empirical evidence to the contrary of such strong euphoria stemming from a simple touch, he goes against every scientific rule and gets to heaven on earth. “And Dean?”

His voice is lighter, happier by that mere gentle gesture which causes Dean's cheeks to dimple with branded delight as he answers: “Yes?”

You don't bother pulling your hand away. Instead, you intertwined your fingers, smiling like a baby when you notice his sweaty palm. At least you aren't the only nervous here. “Our second date will be at McDonald's.”

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imdreamingofaplaceicallhome · 3 years

Text

WDW Preference #6: How he finds out your pregnant

Jonah: It was a few days before Christmas when she knew something was off. She pushed it out of her mind and continued with the Christmas shopping. There was so much to do in such a short time to get it done. She finally made it home and was putting things into the closet. She felt the need to throw up so she rushed to the bathroom and threw up in the toilet. She leaned back against the wall and started to think. Could she be pregnant? After having a miscarriage she was scared to test or even be pregnant. The fear of losing another baby was bigger than the feeling of wanting one. She got up and brushed her teeth and pulled out a pregnancy test from under the counter. She took the test and placed it back in the package as she went back to the room. She started to wrap presents and pushed the thought of the test out of her mind. She heard Jonah come in downstairs, she quickly hid the presents. Rushing to the bathroom, locking the door behind her as she threw up again. She grabbed the test from the counter. Taking it out of the package and seeing those two lines. She started to cry covering her mouth as she heard Jonah come upstairs. "Babe?" He knocked on the bathroom door. "I'll be out in a minute," she replied. "Ok babe," he said as he went into the room. She placed the test under the sink where she knew Johna wouldn't find it. Wiping her eyes before leaving the bathroom. "Hey, you," he said as he hugged her. "Hey babe," she said as she hugged him. "Are you ok?" he asked. "Yea I'm fine" she nodded. "Babe your shaking," he said as he held her tighter. "I'm ok," she said. "Ok so are you up for dinner with the guys?" he asked. "Yeah sure let me change real quick" she nodded. "Alright babe," he said as he kissed her cheek. He went downstairs and she got ready. She also decided to take one of the onesies they bought for the baby and wrap it in a box with the test. Laying it on the bed so when they arrived home later one he would see it. She went downstairs and slipped on her jacket and grabbed his hand. They went to dinner with the boys, it was their normal Christmas dinner. After dinner they went back to the house, they went upstairs. She went into the bathroom as he entered the bedroom. "What is this?" Jonah asked. "It's an early Christmas present," she said as she leaned against the door frame. "For me?" he asked. "Yes babe" she smiled slightly. He sat down on the bed and started to open it. He saw the onesie first and looked up at her with tears in his eyes. "Are you serious?" he asked. "Look back down," she said. He picked up the test and saw two lines. He dropped the box and placed his head down in his hands. "I found out when you came home," she said as she also started to cry. "Our rainbow," he said as he got up and hugged her. "Yea our rainbow" she hugged him. "Are you ok?" he asked as he looked at her. "Yea I'm ok, scared but ok" she looked down. "Babe everything will be ok" he tilted her chin up. "I believe that" she looked at him. "Very special present," he said as he placed his hand on her stomach. "Yes, Merry Christmas," she said. "I love you" he kissed her softly. "I love you" she rested her forehead against his. There is always a rainbow after a storm.

Corbyn: They were on tour for over 4 months. She was always on the bus because no one knew that they were together. That's how she wanted it to be anyway, she didn't want to deal with the hate. Their fans were nice but she just didn't want to change it. The bus was parked behind the venue, the boys were doing soundcheck. She got off the bus and quickly made her way to the car. She asked to go to a drug store so she could pick up a few things. She picked up a few things at the store, she also picked up a pregnancy test. She got back on the bus quickly so no one could see her or find the bus. She took the test and left it on the counter as she went to fix herself something to eat. Her period was a few days late and it always seemed like she was so hungry. "I'm sure I'm not pregnant," she said to herself as she went back to check the test. She covered her mouth when she saw two lines. She looked at the box to make sure she was reading it right. "I'm pregnant," she said as she looked at herself in the mirror. She placed the test in her bag when she heard the boys come back. "Baby", Corbyn said. "Hey babe, I was making food, want some?" she said as she walked out of the bathroom. "Sure babe," he said as he sat down. She finished cooking and sat next to him so they could eat together. He wrapped his arm around her and kissed her cheek. "So what time is the concert?" she asked. "In about two hours, we will meet and greet in a few minutes," he said. "Oh ok," she said. "Why what's wrong?" he asked. "Nothing babe, just wondering," she said. "Are you sure?" he asked. "Yeah babe" she kissed him softly. "Alright," he said. He finished eating before leaving with the boys, she watched him through the window. She decided to make a onesie with 'Baby C coming in 2022' on it. She printed the label off and placed it on a onesie. She asked their manager to give this to Corbyn without saying anything. "Hey Corbyn here," their manager said as she handed him the onesie. "What is this?" he asked as he looked at it. "What is it?" Jack asked. "It's a onesie with Baby C on it," Corbyn said. "Maybe it's a prank, '' Zach said. "2022," Coryn said to himself. "Maybe one of the fans thought it was cute," Jonah said. "Cassidy", Corbyn said. "What about her?" Jonah asked. Corbyn ran back to the bus and rushed inside and saw Cassidy standing there with a pregnancy test. "It is you," he said as he walked over to her. "Yea, we are pregnant," she said. "We are," he said as he hugged her close to him. She hugged him and rubbed his back. "Baby C" he smiled as he looked down at the onesie. "Yea baby C" she smiled as he placed his hand on her stomach. "How far?" he questioned. "I just found out today," she said. "Oh ok," he nodded and kissed her softly. "Calm down babe" she smiled against his lips. "I'm just so excited," he said. "I know you are," she smiled. Baby C was on their way.

Zach: Everyone always said that they moved way too fast. Within weeks of meeting, they moved in together. It didn't need to make sense to anyone but them. Of course, everyone was shocked when they found out that they were having a baby. Nearly two years later they were still going strong and still in love. Riley would help with the band and of course, the boys loved baby Ava. "So Zach when are you and Riley having another one?" Jonah asked as he picked up Ava. "We haven't talked about it really," Zach said. "Was Ava planned or did it just happen?" Jack asked. "We were trying but also wasn't trying to prevent," Zach said. "Oh ok," Johna said. "Would you be happy if Riley was pregnant?" Corbyn asked. "I would be fine with that," Zach said. "What about Riley?" Johna asked. "Like I said we haven't talked about it," Zach said. "Mommy," Ava said as Riley walked in. "Hey babe," Zach said. "Hey, babe" Riley said as she picked up Ava. "Are we still having dinner tonight?" Zach asked. "Are you getting off at a decent time?" she asked. "Yea in a few hours," Zach said. "Then sure," she said. "Ok babe sees you later," Zach said as they left. Riley took Ava home and put her in the playroom. She had plans to surprise Zach tonight at dinner but wanted to make sure. She took another pregnancy test and right away it came back positive. "Ok so this is happening again" she nodded as she collected all the other tests. She put them in a bag and got Ava ready for dinner. She put Ava in a 'Big Sister' shirt, just to see how long it would take Zach to figure it out. Riley just finished making dinner the moment Zach walked in. "Daddy," Ava said as she ran to him. "Hey baby girl," he said as he picked her up. "Hey babe dinner is ready," Riley said. "Smells amazing," he said as he kissed Riley's cheek. "So how was today?" Riley asked. "It was fine" Zach nodded as he placed Ava in the highchair. "Oh that's good," Riley said as she put the food on the table. "Yea it was, how was your day?" He asked. "It was fine," She nodded. They made it through dinner and Zach didn't notice Ava's shirt. Riley asked him to bathe Ava while she cleaned up the kitchen. He picked up Ava from the highchair and that's when he noticed. "Wait what?" Zach said. "Give her a bath," Riley said. "No, her shirt," Zach said. "Oh, you finally noticed it," Riley said. "Is it true? Are we having another?" Zach asked. "Yes we are," Riley said. "Ava you're gonna have a baby brother," Zach said as he pulled Riley closer to him. "Or a sister," Riley said. "Yea or a sister" Zach smiled and hugged Riley. "Another one," Riley said. "I love you," Zach said as he kissed her softly. "Mommy and daddy," Ava said. "That's right baby," Riley said. "And baby," Zach said as he placed his hand on Riley's stomach. "Baby," Ava said. Zach took Ava upstairs to bathe her, he couldn't believe that there would be another little one soon.

Daniel: High school best friends turned into lovers after high school. It's funny how when you don't realize that what you are looking for is right in front of you. It seemed like everyone saw something between Daniel and Sarah but they never noticed it. They moved in together during their freshman year of college. Nearly 3 years later Sarah was getting ready to graduate while Daniel was in a band. He was kind of a big deal and she loved watching him chase his dreams. The morning of graduation Sarah woke up nauseated. She threw up in a trashcan before getting ready for graduation. "Nervous babe?" Daniel asked. "Yes I am," she nodded. "It's your day" Daniel kissed her cheek. "Yea the day I worked so hard for," Sarah said. "Don't be nervous," He said. "I'm trying not to be," she said as she finished getting ready. "See you out there," He said. "Alright babe," she said as she kissed him once more before leaving. She got to the university and got ready for graduation. It was a small ceremony and it moved pretty quickly. Afterward, she rushed to the bathroom because she was nauseated again. She threw up in the toilet a few times before making her way to the sink. She turned on the water as she looked at herself in the mirror. She splashed some water on her face and washed her mouth out. She left the bathroom and her family was waiting for her. They all hugged her and congratulated her before heading to get food. Sarah stopped at a drugstore and then stopped by the house before meeting her family. She went upstairs and changed her clothes. She checked her phone and planner and realized that she was at least two weeks late. She grabbed the test from the bag and decided to take both of them. There were two lines on one of the tests but she waited for the digital one to come up. It came up as 4-6 weeks. "That explains why I can't keep anything down," She said. She quickly hid the test and left the house. She met her family and Daniel at the restaurant, she ordered something easy for her to eat. "So what's next?" Her sister asked. "I'm not sure yet," Sarah said. "Are you ok?" Daniel asked. "Yea I'm fine" she nodded. "No pressure, I'm sure you'll figure out what's next," her mother said. "Yea I know," Sarah said as she took a deep breath in. They finished dinner and they went back home. She kept the news away from Daniel for as long as she could. It has been about 3 weeks since she found out that she was pregnant. She finally got an appointment to make sure she was pregnant. She came back from the doctor's office and all the boys were at the house. "Hey babe," Daniel said. "Hey guys," Sarah said. "So we have news," Zach said. "What is that?" she asked. "We are going on tour," Daniel said. "How exciting babe" She smiled. "Yea will you join us?" Daniel asked. "I'm not sure," Sarah said. "It will be fun," Jack said. "I have a little surprise for Daniel," She said as she went into the closet. She handed him a bag and told him to open it but slowly. He started to pull out baby socks and mittens, he looked confused. As he continued to pull things out he found a onesie that said 2022. "Are you?" Daniel asked. "Yes I am: she said as she showed him the ultrasound. "Wow," Daniel said. "Yea baby coming in 2022," she said. He stood up and hugged her and kissed her head. He was in shock and didn't know how to react. The boys congratulated them both before leaving the house. He started to get more excited as he realized they were going to have a baby. They talked all night about the baby and how their lives would change. There will be a new member on the tour bus next year.

Jack: A chance encounter turned into one of the best things to happen to Sydney. When she met Jack everything in her life got better. She was a fan of his for a while and they met at one of his concerts. They hit it off right away and they have been inseparable since. Sydney slept in Jack's bunk and was always backstage at the concerts. She was asleep when they came back from the soundcheck. Jack gently nudged her, waking her up to see if she was coming tonight. "The concert is in a few hours," Jack said. "I'm not feeling it tonight," she said. "Ok babe, is anything wrong?" he asked. "No, just tired" she looked at him. "You've been tired lately," he said. "I know and it sucks," she pouted. "Could you be pregnant?" he asked. "I don't think so," she said. "You want me to get you a test?" he asked. "You can," she nodded. 'Ok babe, ' he kissed her forehead and went to the store. He came back from the store and gave her the test before he had to go back to the venue. She took the test and then went back to lay down in the bunk. She fell asleep before checking the test, she didn't wake up again until they came back from the concert. He went to check on her and noticed she was asleep. He gently kissed her forehead, waking her up. "I'm sorry I didn't mean to wake you up," he said. "I was already awake," she said. "So did you take the test?" he asked. "Shit I fell asleep before looking," she said. "I'll check," he said as he went into the bathroom. "So two lines?" he asked as he looked at the box. "Pregnant," she said. "You Are pregnant," he said. "I guess I am," she said. "AWW, my baby is having a baby" he sat next to her. "Explains why I'm so tired" she laid her head down on his shoulder. "Yea it is" he kissed the top of her head. "Are you happy?" she asked. "Yes I am babe, are you?" he asked. "Yea I am" she nodded. "I know it's not something we planned but we will be ok," he said. "Yea I know" she nodded slightly. Sometimes life gave you what you need even if you don't think you do.

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losille2000 · 3 years

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The Swan, Chapter 6

TITLE: The Swan CHAPTER NUMBER: 6/? AUTHOR: Losille2000 WHICH Tom/CHARACTER: Actor!Tom GENRE: Romance/Drama FIC SUMMARY: Sequel to The Ugly Duckling. Astrid embarks on a two-week trip to London to serve as her sister’s maid of honor, hoping against all hope she might miraculously run into her Hawaiian mystery man. When her sister and soon-to-be brother-in-law drag her to a production of Hamlet to meet the groom’s best man, Astrid gets the shock of her life. The situation, though, is anything but perfect. RATING: M (sex, language) WARNINGS: None in this chapter. AUTHORS NOTES: So... what can I say? It's been a while. If you want the whole story, you can look through my blog or message me. I'm happy to answer. That said, it's been a good three years since I did any serious writing. My writing muscles need to build back up to what they were before. Please be kind... and let me know what you think. :D

Chapters: 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - ALSO ON AO3!

Chapter 6 - Flying the Coop

Regret.

Astrid regretted ever stomping up those stairs to Tom’s bedroom. She regretted challenging him to make a move. She regretted letting him have his way with her. In the moment, it seemed right. Maybe if they slept together again, they’d find an incompatibility, especially now that the air of tropical mystery had dissipated and left in its place two broken flesh-and-blood people.

How wrong could she have been?

Now it was amplified, deeper, hotter, engulfing.

Only two weeks for whatever this fire was to fizzle?

It wasn’t, as the Brits say, bloody likely.

And here she was, smack dab in the position she didn’t want to be in; no matter how tangentially her current association with her mother, the family business, and Hollywood was, being connected to Tom in this way presented too many problems to even consider at this point. And fucking him—

“Astrid, are you even listening to me?”

Astrid jumped from the intrusion, letting out a slight squeak. She blinked hard and turned in her spot to look at her sister, who stood in the middle of the furnished but unoccupied flat. “Sorry?”

“Are you okay?” Tilde asked. “You’ve been spacey after the dress shop— and I’m just worried.”

“You don’t need to worry.”

“Let me worry,” she begged. “Let me be the big sister I never got to be.”

Astrid laughed ruefully. If only she could actually talk with Tilde about Tom. She wouldn’t understand, or at the very least, it could pose some very difficult situations in the coming days with the wedding right around the corner. But, Astrid guessed, Tilde meant the other elephant in the room... Astrid being the elephant, and their mother being a Class A narcissist. Because there was absolutely no way Tilde would know about what had happened at Tom’s home...

“It’s too late for that, Tilde,” Astrid said. “You know I love you. I just— there’s no changing her.”

Tilde grumbled and glided over to the couch in the living room. She dropped down on top of the cushions, barely displacing the pillow stuffing with her slight ballet-formed frame. “I should have never allowed her to do all this. I should have done it on my own, it’s not like Jim and I are so hard up. But I thought...”

Astrid held up a hand to stop her sister and sat on the couch more gingerly than Tilde, measuredly, so as not to displace any stuffing in the overstuffed couch, either. Something her mother had taught her, after all: If you’re not going to put in effort to look like a lady, you can at least act like one.

God, even that memory still hurt, down to the marrow in her bones.

“But you did.” Astrid shrugged and laid her head on the back of the couch. There, she sighed.

The sisters sat in silence for some time, listening to Duchess rooting around the flat for something to chew on. When the pug found nothing, she eventually jumped up onto the couch and snuggled into Tilde’s lap.

Astrid cleared her throat. “It’s not all Mom, either. I’m just tired from jet lag and getting everything together for the house party.”

And sleeping with the Best Man. She was pretty sure she’d read a romance novel or a hundred about this situation once. Did that make her a cliché?

“Oh, I meant to ask,” Tilde interjected. “How did that go? Tom was a total tool last night and I was worried about today.”

Astrid licked her lips subconsciously; she could still taste the sugar left by a bite of tiramisu Tom had given to her on a fork. If she concentrated hard enough, she was sure she could still taste the salt of his skin mixed in with it. She could certainly feel the tight muscle in her thigh that pulled every time she shifted, from the way he’d bent it and held it firmly in place as he’d had his way with her.

Frankly, it was a miracle they’d accomplished anything after they ended up in bed. But, she supposed, that was the weirdest part about the whole afternoon. They got out of bed, dressed without speaking and just... worked on what they needed to for the party. There was no discussion. No arguing. Tom stayed a respectable distance from her; she wasn’t sure if she had really wanted him to do it again, over and over, until they were both exhausted. They ate lunch quietly, they got everything organized and packed into his Land Rover, then Tilde showed up and they bade farewell, like it was something they did every day.

Nothing more was said about Hawaii, or a relationship, or lies, or having this end in two weeks. He seemed to be ignoring the topics all together, likely in the misguided belief that if he didn’t bring it up, then everything was fine. She ignored them because discussing WHY she refused to become a true part of his life was too painful.

Astrid pursed her lips and closed her eyes again. Isn’t that what she told him she wanted, though? To feel worshipped and then go about their lives, like nothing happened? Ignore all the elephants and enjoy the sex. No emotion, only sex. He was just following her demands, his need too great to put the brakes on their interlude in his bed.

The problem was that she did want more with him. She wanted emotion and relationships and rainbows and butterflies. When she had thought of him as some wealthy businessman she might once again bump into while visiting London, this had been possible. She had, after all, imagined a reality over the last eighteen months that included falling in love with him and living a life together.

But he wasn’t a businessman. He was an actor. He ran in circles she just couldn’t stomach anymore.

“It was fine. We finished everything and packed it all into his Land Rover for the drive up to Cliveden,” Astrid finally said. “The costume deliveries will be there when we arrive.”

“This really has gotten out of control,” Tilde said. “Part of me just wants to run to the register office and get it over with.”

Astrid shook her head violently. “You do that, and I’ll flip the fuck out. I put too much work into this.”

Tilde laughed. “Scared you, huh?”

“I’m serious, Tilde,” Astrid said, lightly smacking her sister’s thigh. Duchess popped her head up, and thinking it was an invitation for her, came over to her aunt. Astrid cuddled the dog close to her chest, breathing in her freshly bathed fur.

“She likes you,” Tilde said.

Astrid kissed Duchess’ head. “Small children and dogs, apparently.”

Tilde chuckled softly before letting out a long sigh. “I bet she would really like it if her Aunt Astrid were around more.”

“Aunt Astrid is a teacher and never has any time,” she replied directly to Duchess. Duchess reached for the hand that had stopped petting her and touched it with her paw. Her imploring buggy pug eyes asked Aunt Astrid for more.

Tilde huffed, but said nothing more for a long time. Then she cleared her throat. “How do you like the flat, anyway?”

“It’s nice,” Astrid confirmed. In fact, it was nicer than “nice.” This flat looked like one of those staged ads in a real estate magazine with lots of recessed lighting, soft gray colors, top-of-the-line furnishings and a ton of space.

“We’re trying to decide if we’ll sell it or keep it as an investment property,” Tilde replied. “It’s kind of a pain in the ass as a rental property, though.”

Astrid nodded. “You could just give it to Dad’s company to manage.”

Not that doing so was a great option, either.

If Astrid saw her mother irregularly, she saw her father even less. After their separation, he spent time in Las Vegas developing a new casino concept and then, when Astrid graduated from UNLV, moved his business operations permanently back to Sweden. Still, though, the relationship with her father was better than it was with her mother, simply by virtue that he was never around and didn’t have an opportunity to find the weaknesses in her armor like her mother. Tilde rarely spoke about either parent, but Astrid was certain their relationship was similar.

Tilde sat up and turned to look at Astrid seriously. “Or you could move into it.”

“Excuse me?” Astrid said, her heart skipping a few beats, from a sudden surge of anxiety and... something else.

“I’m serious, Astrid,” she said. “We don’t see each other enough and I want to spend time with you and make up for all those years we were apart.”

This wasn’t just some passing fancy. Astrid could see that as plain as day on Tilde’s face. Her sister was determined to convince her to move to London. But for what? She had no support system other than Tilde and James... and her career... well, that was back in Las Vegas.

Not that Las Vegas itself was the most amazing place to live and work.

“I’d never see you anyway,” Astrid argued. “You’re always rehearsing, or preparing to rehearse, or performing. And god knows James is going to be busy doing whatever.”

“Yeah, about that...” Tilde said, trailing off quietly. She picked at the dog hair on her sweater for a few seconds, then slowly looked back at Astrid. “I’m retiring at the end of this season.”

“What?!”

Tilde shrugged. “James and I want a family, and if I wait until it’s a ‘good time,’ it’ll never happen because of our schedules. And really, it’s getting harder and harder to come back from injuries and such. I just... I need a long break from being a performing ballerina. I don’t have the fire I once had, the same will to fight for every goddamn role.”

Astrid simply nodded. This was huge news. Ballet was Tilde’s life. She’d been doing it since she was a little girl, had impeccable skill and training and talent for it. The joke was that Tilde had come out of the womb in pointe shoes.

Which wasn’t that far from the truth, really. As soon as their mother could, she’d gotten Tilde into dance with the best instructors money could buy. Their mother, the failed ballerina, always lived through them. Which explained why she did not like anything about Astrid— Astrid did not have anything that would benefit her.

“Have you told Mom yet?” Astrid asked.

Tilde shook her head. “Of course not! And listen to her prattle on about how I’m a failure and she gave me so much and I’m just a terrible person? No, thank you. I’ll wait until she is permanently back in LA before I tell her.”

Even though Tilde had not yet told anyone else, it somehow eased the tension in Astrid’s shoulders knowing that Tilde would be in their mother’s crosshairs for a change. Typically, that wasn’t the case; their parents always treated Tilde like the perfect golden child. Of course, Tilde had always been one of Astrid’s fiercest allies… when she could. However, since Tilde spent most of her life in London studying at the Royal Ballet from a very early age, support and camaraderie had been scarce. Now, though? Now it felt like she and Tilde could weather the storm together.

Tilde continued, “Yeah. I’m thinking about opening up a dance studio and then after the baby thing happens, if I still have the performing bug in me, then I’ll start guesting. But I’m just so excited to start having babies.”

Stopping the smile from forming on Astrid’s lips was impossible as she registered the excitement on Tilde’s face. Astrid felt the enthusiasm coming from Tilde’s corner of the couch. “I’m excited for you, Tilde.”

And she was. She truly was.

Tilde reached out and grabbed Astrid’s hand. “I’m serious, though, Astrid. We never had a great family growing up, and I see this as an opportunity to right the wrongs of the past and create the family we should have had growing up.”

“I don’t know, Til.”

“James and I have both talked about it a lot and we both agree.”

“Tilde, even if I did move here,” Astrid began, “I don’t know the first thing about teaching in England.”

Tilde nodded. “I know. But James’ parents are retired teachers. I’m sure they’d be willing to help you make heads or tails of it.”

Astrid pursed her lips and turned to stare at the dormant fireplace sitting in front of them. Duchess, who had not moved, made happy dog purr noises as Astrid massaged the tiny velvet triangles of her ears. To be fair to Tilde, Astrid had often thought of moving to London to be nearer to her, but she never thought it would happen or that Tilde would actually need or want her here. The fact that she was wanted made emotion spring to her eyes and prick at them until they watered.

But then, there was the other issue.

The really, super, ginormous issue that came in the shape of a devastatingly handsome British man she met on vacation. If she moved to London, she’d certainly be seeing him more. No clean break at the end of two weeks like she hoped.

“And, you know,” Tilde said, “London’s arts scene is stupendous. We have the hook-up. I thought you could get back into it. You can hardly do that in Las Vegas.”

Astrid snorted. “Tilde, that part of my life is over.”

“Why? You’re amazing. I remember the video you sent of your college production of Othello. There wasn’t a dry eye in the place.”

While Tilde’s appreciation for her talent warmed Astrid’s heart, it didn’t take away the sting of her mother’s actions. Astrid couldn’t even bring herself to discuss it with Tilde when it first happened, much less in the intervening eight years since the incidents that led to her total disavowal of all things acting related. Her silence on the matter, though, had finally come home to roost. First with Tilde telling Tom she was still an actor, and Tom calling her a liar because she told him she wanted nothing to do with it. And now, with Tilde staring her down imploringly. Tilde wanted answers just as much as Tom did, except for very different reasons.

Astrid could not force her suddenly leaden tongue to move in her mouth. Tilde would just have to live with not knowing the whole story, for now. Finally, she said, “If I move to London, I’m not going to be acting.”

“Well, I guess I’ll take that,” Tilde replied. “As long as you’ll still consider moving here to be with me.”

A knock at the front door startled them all, sending Duchess barking and wheezing to the door. The door opened and James popped his head inside. “Knock knock.”

“Come in!” Tilde sang back to him, jumped from her seat, and nearly leaped over the back of the couch to get to him like he was a cold glass of lemonade on a hot day. She threw her arms around his neck and kissed him squarely. For a brief, possibly irrational, moment, Astrid was jealous of her sister and the relationship she had built with James.

Which wasn’t a great feeling to have if the plan was to spend more time with them. How could she uproot her entire life— leave her students and friends— and move halfway across the globe just to be consumed by the green-eyed monster?

“Babe,” Tilde said, “tell Astrid she needs to move to London.”

James laughed and turned to look at Astrid. “Astrid… you need to move to London.”

“Thank you!” Tilde pecked his cheek and pirouetted in place until she was facing away from him. She started walking back toward the bedroom. “Let me go get my purse and we can get going.”

When Tilde was gone, and the flat was mostly silent except for more of Duchess’ puggy wheezing as she calmed, James’ smile dropped into a stony seriousness. He stepped over to her and quietly murmured, “We would love to have you here, Astrid. But I understand if you don’t want to come. The decision has to be yours, and if you decide not to move, I will handle Tilde.”

Astrid was grateful for James’ level-headedness in the situation. In the short time she’d known the man, she found that he was a gifted reader of rooms. That was why he was so good with Tilde— a steady anchor in a turbulent sea. Clearly, he understood the anxiety twisting her stomach into knots.

She set a grateful hand on his arm and squeezed appreciatively. “Thanks, James.”

“And don’t let my association with Tom cloud your judgement,” James said.

Astrid withdrew her hand like he’d burned it. Her eyes snapped up to his, then focused outward on the rest of his features and body language. She didn’t know how he knew, but he did. Tom must have told James, despite that she asked him not to.

Unless Tom had told James last night…

“How do you...” She trailed off, turning her gaze and trying to hide her blush.

“He’s my best man for a reason. We tell each other everything,” James replied. “I had hoped that your work today would allow you some time to figure things out before more of this wedding commenced and caused a problem.”

Astrid gulped. “Does Tilde know?”

James shook his head silently.

“Good,” Astrid replied. Good for two reasons, really. The first, because it confirmed for her that the invitation to come to London wasn’t Tilde playing matchmaker. The second, because she still didn’t want anybody to know about it. “Wait… how much did he tell you?”

James stared back at her, a mischievous glint in his eyes and a slight curl at the corner of his mouth. “That would be breaking the Code.”

Her face now completely aflame, Astrid bent down and grabbed Duchess into her arms. She couldn’t even look at the man anymore without feeling embarrassed. Hopefully, it would pass quickly.

“Bad news!” Tilde called from the hallway as she came back into the room. Her thumbs moved rapidly over the screen of her iPhone. “Mother decided we needed an all hands on deck dinner tonight.”

Astrid groaned. “In addition to or replacing the one tomorrow night at Cliveden?”

“In addition to,” Tilde said. “Tom can’t make it tonight because he has the cast party, and Dad isn’t even in England yet, so that’ll be the official one. Tonight is probably just more nitpicking.”

“Do we have to?” Astrid whined.

Tilde sighed heavily and dropped her phone into her purse with agitation. “Strength in numbers, dear sister.”

Her sister's proclamation made the summons to dinner no better, but Astrid and James dutifully followed Tilde out of the flat and out to the car. The only saving grace was that Tom wouldn't be there. Astrid could focus on one problem, not two.

#tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston fanfiction #tom hiddleston fan fic #tom hiddleston fanfic #tom hiddleston fan fiction #the swan #actor!tom/ofc #tug series #swan #actor!tom

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fiddlepickdouglas · 3 years

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Viva Las Vegas, Pt. 14 - Unexpected Meeting

Summary: Sunset Curve Alive AU, Willex, who will they run into?, 3.2k

@trevor-wilson-covington is the bestie who makes these lovely edits, we stan supportive friends

WARNINGS: death mention, emotional trauma

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12, Part 13

“Man, I need a break,” Reggie was saying as he strolled with Alex down an unfamiliar street in the early evening, stretching his arms. “I mean, being in the studio all the time has been good, but on top of everything else it’s just so much!”

Unsure where they were headed, Alex walked a few paces ahead on the sidewalk, casually navigating for both of them. He squinted as he looked at Reggie.

“Reggie, you dropped, like, all of your classes once we signed on.”

“Nope!” his friend exclaimed, tilting his head in a proud manner. “I just needed two electives to graduate. It’s okay, though, man. Not everyone finishes their math requirements as a freshman.” Reggie patted Alex’s shoulder, as if it were any sort of consolation.

“No, good for you Reg,” Alex said. His parents had paid for all this private tutoring and even gotten him to take some college credits early. Of course, his only serious plan after high school had been the band so it was all wasted effort, but then all of their attempts with him amounted to that. He was learning to feel less guilty over it. It wasn’t his fault they never cared about what he wanted.

“How long do you think Luke and Bobby are gonna be workshopping their parts together?” Reggie asked.

“Long enough. Where are we going, exactly?”

“Oh, I was just kind of keeping an eye out for anywhere interesting.”

Alex blinked. “I thought we were headed somewhere specific.”

“I’ve only been to this side of L.A. like, once, so I don’t think I’d make a good tour guide,” Reggie stated.

And just like that, Alex’s mind thrust itself back into remembering Willie. He was getting better at not crumbling completely in the moment, but it still felt like his heart was temporarily dunked into a dark ocean of misery. It would remain waterlogged and heavy inside his chest for a while.

“Alex?” Reggie was saying, looking at him with concern. “You okay?”

Snapping his thoughts back to the present, Alex sighed as he looked back at Reggie.

“I’ll be fine.”

He shoved his hands into the pockets of his jean jacket and pressed his arms against his sides. Shoulders hunched, he continued through the crowd. Focusing on walking would hopefully help it wear off. He made every step purposeful, trying to get the weight in his heart to fall through his feet. Reggie’s hand on his shoulder made him turn.

“It’s still rough, isn’t it?” he asked gently. “If I said something - ”

“It’s not your fault,” Alex tried to assure him. “Sometimes it just comes out of nowhere. Besides, I can’t make you and everyone else walk on eggshells.”

“Maybe not, but we’re in this with you. It may have been different for us, but we all met Willie. I’d never seen you warm up to anyone that fast. Even after a few months, it’s still fresh; don’t force yourself to be better for us.”

Pausing on the sidewalk, Alex looked up at Reggie. He tried to smile as gratitude edged its way in, relieving most of the heaviness in his chest.

“I appreciate that, Reg.”

“Of course, man.”

“So,” Alex took a deep breath to let everything else wash away as they kept wandering. “You made it sound like you had a lot going on. Is everything at home okay?”

Reggie shrugged. “Eh...no change there. My mom went to stay with her sister after the last fight, so my dad’s been trying his best to take care of everything, but he’s too upset to handle it well. My little sister has just been sleeping over with friends anyway, and I can handle myself, so - ” he shrugged again, “ - you know, I do what I can.”

Alex nodded. He had nothing really to comment, and Reggie knew he was always there to support him. This wasn’t anything unusual for him, but it still wasn’t right. Neither of them spent much time at their own homes, so wandering through the city like this kept them occupied when they weren’t with the rest of the band. Looking up at the store signs around them, he saw a record store about a block ahead.

“Hey, why don’t we check that out?” he suggested.

“Yeah!” Reggie said, dropping any ounce of gloom from the previous subject and skipping along to catch up with Alex.

A small bell rang as they came through the door, and they immediately began filtering through shelves of records and CDs. Peeking toward the back of the store, Alex could see a counter that offered a menu of food and drinks, some tables, as well as the smallest stage in the world. This seemed like a neat little place.

“Oh,” Reggie started after a while. “I got us a gig playing at my cousin’s wedding.”

“A wedding?” Alex said skeptically, turning from the Pansy Division vinyl he was checking out. “When we’re trying to finish a record and go on tour?”

“It’s Conrad, okay, he’s family! And he said we could make the setlist.”

Alex shrugged, considering that was fair.

“...with his approval.”

At that addition, Alex could only sigh and shake his head.

“And then maybe, you could, I don’t know, finally ask Bobby to be your date?”

Reggie put down the Mötley Crüe album he’d been examining and looked up at him in shock. Alex realized he’d possibly been too blunt. But immediately Reggie began to cover it up, laughing and shaking his head.

“What?” he said, his denial completely transparent. “Was that a...was that supposed to be a joke or something?”

Giving him a look of pity, Alex put his hands on his hips.

“You’re really gonna try to pull the wool over the eyes of your gay friend?”

Caught, Reggie looked back at him in defeat and bowed his head.

“I’m gonna guess you noticed a while ago?”

Nodding, Alex tried to soften his demeanor.

“There’s been something up with you two for months. How come you haven’t tried to talk to him about it?”

Reggie knit his brow and began fiddling with his fingers.

“Well, I’m a little confused by it, to be honest. Cuz, I mean...I like girls, right?”

“Yeah, so?”

“But I like Bobby, too.”

“Okay.”

His friend looked up at him, expecting more of a reaction. Alex leaned against the shelf and folded his arms.

“Do you think there’s something wrong with you? Because you’re talking to the king of wrong feelings.”

“Well, sometimes I feel like that, but not really. It’s something else,” Reggie said.

“Like what?”

“Well...we’ve been friends for years. It just sort of crept up on me and I don’t know what to do. What if he rejects it? He’s one of my best friends.”

Thinking for a moment, Alex looked down at his feet. He didn’t blame Reggie for being worried. He’d had a mini crush on Bobby for a couple weeks back in ninth grade and had the same dilemma. It was easier for him to get over, though, simply because it had faded quickly.

“Well, I wish I could say if it’s meant to be it’ll happen, but sometimes…”

Sometimes it dies in a fire before there’s any chance of knowing.

He shook his head to get rid of the awful thought and ignored Reggie’s look of concern.

“But if I know Bobby, I don’t think it’s going to harm anything. I think you should go for it, Reg. I truly, honestly, will back you up on that.”

A smile spread wide across Reggie’s face.

“Thanks, man!”

Without fretting over it for another second, he turned back to the shelf of CDs he’d been perusing, and Alex did the same. There was a crazy good selection, and Alex wished he could get his hands on a record player. Playing CDs on a boombox worked for some things, but there was a level of charm in playing something on a vinyl record that appealed to him even more. He made a note to get a small notebook to carry in his fanny pack, hoping to return to this store and make a wishlist of sorts to work toward.

“Do I see Alex and Reggie of Sunset Curve?” A familiar voice said from behind.

Both of them turned to find Flynn standing in the aisle, braids tied up into a high ponytail and eyebrow arched in her usual smart fashion.

“Hey Flynn!” Reggie exclaimed, pulling her into a hug. Alex went in for one afterward, happily surprised.

“Hey guys!” she said, grinning.

“What are you up to?” Alex asked.

“Gonna be performing in a bit,” she said excitedly. “Just a warm up before the main group comes on. I’ve been working on some of my own stuff; I think you guys would love it! Got time to stick around?”

“Sweet!” Reggie raised a fist for her to bump. “I’m down. Alex, wanna stay?”

“Yeah, sounds great!”

He had yet to see what Flynn was capable of. If he were to judge only on knowing she’d been in a duo with Julie, he expected it to be good.

“Also, you should try the burritos here,” Flynn told them. “They are to die for!”

The endless click-rollll-click-click-click of his board filled his ears as Willie moved through the street, feeling the wind pass over him in the way that made freedom feel like he could clutch it in his hands. He’d actually spent today not worrying about Alex. It felt good not to dwell on what little past he had access to. Of course, he still had repetitive dreams about the few memories that had come back, but the backwards one with Caleb in it hadn’t come back ever since he’d gotten to LA. Moving forward felt...nice.

He had spent the morning sketching at the beach, getting all sorts of practice in. The beautiful waves, seagulls, the different activities all around him. Somehow a group of young college kids had gotten him to join their volleyball tournament. Willie wasn’t sure if he’d ever played it before, but once he caught onto the game, he’d gotten surprisingly good. It felt nice to roll up the hem of his jeans and dig his toes into the warm sand while playing with a group of strangers. They’d nicknamed him Mowgli, whatever that meant. He liked the sound of it though.

Heading off to work after cleaning himself up, he realized he could spend all his free time that way. Peacefully sketching, meeting fun people, and enjoying his surroundings. Was that all it took to be happy? Willie chuckled at the thought of how much Caleb had stressed over rising to the top of his business game, never appearing to be satisfied with any of it. Leaving Vegas remained the best decision he’d ever made. Of course, he wasn’t always proud about his method of burning down the shed, but it had been one of those...heat of the moment things.

Willie skated up to the back entrance and shook his hair out after lifting off his helmet. Just a few short hours of making food, some chill entertainment, and he could peace out for the night. He headed inside the store and right into the small kitchen. Thankfully, the store didn’t fit too many patrons and it was never hard to keep up with orders, and Kyle had a system so he never had to leave the kitchen. This basically meant he could jam to the live music during the lulls between orders with no interruption.

Kyle entered the kitchen just as Willie was tying on his apron.

“Hey, dude, thanks for coming. We actually got two acts coming in, so it should be a full crowd. Katelyn can be the MC for the first bit, but do you mind taking over for the second half?”

A twinge of excitement came over Willie and he lit up. He’d never gotten to try being an MC before.

“Don’t mind at all!” he said.

“Alright, man!” Kyle exclaimed. “First two orders up: swamp style nachos and a bog burrito.”

“Got it.”

“We’re up for a big night with these performances,” the girl hosting hyped up the crowd. “Let’s give it up for our artist of the night: Flynn Taylor!”

Reggie cupped his hands over his mouth as he hollered along with everyone else’s applause. Alex clapped with a mouthful of nachos. Flynn stepped onto the stage behind a set of deejay turntables, smirking as she began flipping switches and turning knobs.

“Thanks for coming out here everyone,” she said into the mic. More applause and whistles echoed through the room. “We’re gonna make a lot of noise tonight, so let me hear you get pumped!”

As she began playing a beat, Alex bobbed along, immediately interested. He didn’t know a thing about mixing, so he was highly impressed with the different sounds she was using. Then Flynn picked up the mic and began rapping and the whole room cheered.

“...I’m a princess, I don’t need a prince, boy I’m priceless...I’m here to shut it down like a night shift…”

“Man,” Reggie leaned over to Alex. “She’s so good! I say we book her to open for us ASAP as possible.”

Alex merely snorted and chuckled at Reggie’s misuse of the acronym. He actually enjoyed the idea of having Flynn rapping to open for their rock shows. Gigs where all the bands sounded the same got a little flavorless sometimes.

“Also,” Reggie said as he took a huge bite into his burrito. “This is the best burrito I’ve ever had.”

“Lemme try some, you can try my nachos,” Alex said.

All Reggie could say was Mm! as he passed the burrito over.

The final beats of the first performer echoed in the kitchen where Willie had been dancing, waving various kitchen tools around. He’d thoroughly enjoyed the whole set, and wondered what sounded so familiar about the girl who was rapping. Before he could spend more time thinking about it, Kyle came in.

“Okay, you ready?” he asked.

“I just keep people busy and then announce the next group, right?” Willie guessed.

“Yeah, man, you’ve got this!”

“What’s the next group called?”

“Downslide. And they brought some merch, so it’s a good idea to mention that to the crowd as well.”

“Okay,” Willie nodded, slipping out of his apron. “Maybe I could put their t-shirt on or something, you know, sell the look?”

Kyle looked impressed. “Yeah! I’ll go see what they’ve got.”

He left the kitchen and hardly a minute later returned with a jacket.

“They said you could wear it for the night. Not gonna lie, I wish I could wear this, it’s a sweet jacket.”

Willie slipped it on, and turned around. He didn’t often wear jackets, but whatever it was made of was pretty soft.

“Guess I’m ready,” he said, giving Kyle a hand slide and fist bump before leaving the kitchen. He stepped up behind the microphone and looked out at the crowd, and further back, the empty store.

At that moment, he heard the bell of the store door ring and two guys walked outside. Through the window, a familiar leather jacket passed. Then, he saw a head of blonde hair follow, turning to look both ways to cross the street, and his heart grew to fill all the empty space in his chest. It was unmistakable. It had to be.

“Alex...” he breathed quietly into the microphone. Adrenaline immediately went out to his extremities. The crowd before him looked bewildered as they waited for him to announce the next group.

Glancing offstage, he saw Kyle give him a strange look. Willie shook his head, unclear what message he was sending but ultimately knowing he couldn’t stay at his current spot. Before he could think anything else, his legs were bounding out the door. It felt like every ounce of blood in his veins knew. The search was over.

Reggie and Alex had just reached the opposite corner. He wasn’t going to miss his chance.

“Alex!” he cried, running to meet them.

He immediately thrust his arms around a surprised Alex, gripping him tightly, burying his face into his shoulder.

“Oh my god, Alex!” he said, panting. “It’s so good to see you.”

He didn’t feel the hug didn’t reciprocate, and instead Alex grabbed his shoulders and pushed him away. The darkness of the street seemed to envelop him.

“What are you - ?” Alex started, staring back at Willie like he’d just been assaulted. Then shock wiped over his whole face. Then confusion. And then a pain came over all of it that made Willie’s concern grow.

“What - what is it?” he asked, all the excitement gone.

Alex wouldn’t look him in the eye, and he raised a hand to hold the side of his head.

“No, this isn’t real,” he whispered to himself, shrinking backward and shutting his eyes. “This can’t be real.”

Willie glanced over at Reggie, who also stared like he was seeing the impossible. He could see Alex shaking and heard a rattled breath, and felt tension grow thick in the air. Quickly, he went to take Alex’s face in his hands.

“Alex, hey, look, it’s me,” he soothed. He fought to get a look directly into his eyes. “It’s me, Willie.”

Finally, the green ocean gazed back at him, turbulent and restless. What once had been a grounding rhythm of waves had turned into a maelstrom of despair. Even worse were the tears welling up right before him. Willie watched the storm rage for a few seconds, seeking for a moment of calm.

“What’s wrong?” he murmured, lowering his hands. Alex looked so wounded it frightened him.

“How are you alive?” Alex begged to know.

Blinking, Willie sat back, astounded at those words. While he agreed it was a miracle he was still alive, he couldn’t fathom why Alex would ask such a question. He chuckled merely out of discomfort.

“I’m here.” Willie glanced at Reggie, looking for an explanation. “Flesh and bone. Why? What happened?”

Alex looked at him incredulously, jaw hanging open. He looked so tightly wound and so scattered all at once.

“Caleb told me you were dead.”

Willie blanched inwardly at the mention of Caleb, but even more so at the rest of that sentence he’d been utterly unprepared to hear.

“He...he - ” he stammered for a moment. “When would you have even talked to him?”

Sharing a look with Reggie, Alex took a deep breath. Then he looked back at Willie hesitantly.

“We see him all the time. We work for him now.”

It was Willie’s turn to drop his jaw.

“We’ve been signed to his record label for a few months now,” Reggie pitched in.

Directing his gaze to the ground, Willie puzzled for a minute.

“Why would I be dead?” he asked, looking back up at Alex.

For a minute Alex simply gazed at him wordlessly.

“I don’t know,” he said. There was a pause as both of them finally looked at each other, fully aware that this was real. And then Alex threw his arms around Willie to return the hug. Willie had to raise himself up on his toes to avoid falling over, and he tightened his grip to remain steady. He felt joy spread through his whole torso and breathed a sigh of relief as hands tangled into his hair. “But that doesn’t matter. I’m so happy to see you.”

#julie and the phantoms #jatp #fanfic #jatp fanfic #willex #alive au #sunset curve #alex mercer #willie #luke patterson #reggie peters #bobby wilson #julie molina #flynn taylor #caleb covington #viva las vegas #unexpected meeting #fiddlepickdouglas

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