#bc that’s what his dad used to smoke when working on a case | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

not24opposumsinatrenchcoat · 19 days

Text

I will claw my way out

Yellowjackets x TLOU ~ Ellie and reader

Uhhh this is just a teaser really, I haven’t finished the rest of the first full chapter but consider this kind of a prologue.

So basically this is just YJ but with TLOU characters as the team. Nothing super heavy in this chapter but if you have seen YJ you know what happens. This is a year before the plane, so Junior year for Ellie and the reader. Uhhh so yeah, idk how to post on here I don’t really know the etiquette but I’m trying to figure it out so plz be patient 🙏. Also the uploading schedule will be very very unscheduled bc of class work and work and family stuff so please have patience with me.

Small tw: smoking, alcoholism

BEFORE YOUR READ PLEASE GO TO THE LINKS IN THIS POST AND SUPPORT PALESTINE IN ANY WAY YOU CAN!-> 🍉

｡･: *:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*: ｡･

1995, junior year

Me and Ellie had decided to come over to my house and smoke, not an uncommon occurrence. We were always in one another’s day to day life, whether it be meeting in the halls between classes, or playing on the field, or hanging out for lunch or after school… It was like you couldn’t walk into a room where one was without the other.

My dad (whom was more like a demanding roommate) was far too busy drunk and passed out with whatever channel his hazed fingers had slipped onto and chosen in a blissful urgency, to notice us slipping inside.

I cracked the door open, it was about 8pm so he sound be asleep by now. Sure enough, he laid on the couch with a couple beer cans and a bottle of whiskey next to him on the floor.

I lived in a small house with 2 bedrooms, a single bathroom, and 1 tv. It was always cluttered, my dog I had begged my dad for on hands and knees left hair everywhere. Nowadays he was just an old beagle who slept on the floor. If a burglar were to break in Buckley would most likely roll over and beg for food to feed his bulging gut.

The house was creaky, always with the whir of the swamp cooler, or wind creaking the old wood, or the beep of some broken electronic. Or maybe it was yelling from my dad, or the dog barking, or the tv blasting. In all the noise Ellie was a fresh dose of calm, even if she was the opposite, she offered a breath of fresh air and a sense of safety.

Our tennis shoes creaked on the scuffed wooden floors. I carefully went to my room and shut the door. Ellie sighed with relief and set her bag down as I set a chair in front of my door in case my dad picked the lock again. I slung my heavy bag from my shoulders and set it next to Ellie’s.

“Did you bring your pipe?”

I asked as I walked over to a pile of stuffed animals and grabbed my old stuffed cow from when I was a baby, it had a small hole in it and I pulled a tiny baggie of weed out of the stuffing.

I turned around and Ellie was already pulling out a little glass pipe she’d stolen from Jordan last year.

“Sweet.” I say as she gently holds the cold glass in her hands and I drop a couple small buds into it.

“Is this skunk?” She asked and sniffed the plant and her ski slope nose scrunched up. I zipped the baggie up and stuffed it back into the stuffed animal.

“I got it from Jordan so… who fuckin knows.” I joke and sit down on my rickety old bed.

Ellie pulled out her lighter and flicked it on, she lit the green flower that had saved me from oh so many bad nights when my dad was screaming on the phone with my mother. She had moved away when I was still too young to remember any of it.

Ellie inhaled and blew a very poor smoke ring into the air.

“Mm.. 6/10.” I say as she passes my the light and the pipe.

“What? That was easily an 8.”

I shake my head and take a long drag, my lungs ached with the familiar taste on my tongue. My heart ached with them, whether that was from Ellie or the weed I would never know.

I blow a large smoke ring out and it bumps and breaks against Ellie’s freckled face.

She waves her hand and rolls her eyes.

“No, that was an 8.” I correct and giggle as I hand her back the pipe and light.

“Show off.”

She says and sits next to me and the bed creaked under her weight.

My room was decorated with a few posters I’d gotten from Sarah as hand-me-downs, a couple pictures of my dog as a puppy, and far too many doodles and drawings Ellie had done tacked up or framed next to my bed. She had always been my favorite artist.

“Says you! I saw you steal the ball form Abby like 10 times today.” I retorted and watch her cough and cover her mouth with her arm and try to muffle her wheezing.

“Well she deserves it! She totally tripped Dina on purpose last week.” Ellie said and cleared her throat while passing me the pipe.

The team was always at some internal war it seemed. We played well for sophomores and Juniors, but our coaches constantly scolded everyone for bickering too much. Always fighting or yelling or cheating for the sake of simply annoying each other.

“Well, Dina did call her a dumb blonde.” I say.

I never picked sides, or tried not to. Everyone had a side to things, I knew that. Patience and understanding was something I had to learn, Ellie never seemed to. I learned it from sitting through hours of boring lectures at church, I learned it from waiting until my dad was too drunk to notice me slipping out the window, I learned it from waiting to be held and not feel invaded. I waited for a lot of things, Ellie seemed to dive head first whether or not it was a good idea.

“She only said that as a joke. Abby’s called everyone something.. remember when she called you a ball slapper in front of Brody?”

I rolled my eyes. Ellie kept trying to pick some guy for me she assumed I liked, Brody seemed to be her choice of the month.

“I don’t care about Brody, first off. Second off, that was funny. And Abby isn’t as mean as you make her out to be.” I say as I hand Ellie the pipe and watch her take a small hit off of it.

I felt bad for ever asking Ellie to smoke, Joel had been like the dad I never really got, and the thought I was letting his daughter do something he would surely yell and ground her for, made guilt ache in my chest.. but the weed helped.

“Did Brody do something?” She asked and laid back on my bed, grabbing my blue pillow and stuffing it behind her head.

“…Well, I mean, he’s just a dick. And wasn’t he one of the guys who beat that girl up for stealing a beer from his friend or something?” I say and leaned back against the wall next to Ellie and relit the pipe.

“Fair point.. I dunno, I was at Leah’s party-“

“I thought you hated Leah?”

“Yeah but she has really good booze.”

Ellie said and shrugged as she looked up at me, her eyes already a little pink.

“Anyways I heard Nora said that Jesse was with Brody when he was drunk and Brody said he thought ‘that number 7 girl with the hair is nice’ so I think that’s you.”

I rolled my eyes and passed Ellie the pipe with an annoyed sigh. High school drama made 0 sense to me.

“So… you heard from a girl who heard from a guy who heard from another drunk guy that he liked me..? And Brody didn’t even say my name?”

I ask and fiddle with the strings of my hoodie with one hands and cradled the pipe in the other.

“…Yeah okay when you put it like that it sounds dumb but-“

“It is dumb! Brody is dumb.”

I sigh and stand up to go grab some soda, setting the pipe down and Ellie quickly scooped it up and nursed another hit. I pulled out the stashed soda from under my bed and cracked one open.

“I mean I swear he is actually the most ignorant, annoying asshat I’ve ever had the misfortune of smelling.”

“You smelled him?” Ellie asked with a small smirk and I toss a can of sprite on her chest and she grunts and sits up to open it.

“Everyone can.”

We both sip our sprites for a moment as smoke wafts through the air, I sit down on the small chair across from my bed.

“I just… I feel bad that you’re not dating anyone.”

Ellie says after a moment.

“You aren’t either?” I raise my eyebrow and slouch in my chair.

“Well…”

Ellie trails off and we sit in uncomfortable silence.

I had dated 1 or 2 boys freshmen and sophomore year but quickly learned I didn’t like dating. I assumed it was just because I was too young and made the excuse that being Christian prohibited me from dating which drove most boys away.. not that really anyone cared to pay attention to me besides on the field. Besides I wasn’t even Christian, my dad was. I just slapped the label on to make him happy and use it as an excuse.

But Ellie hadn’t dated either, she never even glanced at a boy. A few times in middle school I’d set her up and she’d played along, then said they just weren’t her type and I assumed she didn’t want to date either.

Neither of us really… knew why. But we never talked much about it until recently, when Ellie had been on some sort of mission to set me up with every other guy who mentioned my name.

I set my sprite down and leaned over her to grab the pipe and lighter off the bed. I glanced at her and noticed she was staring at me with curious, pink eyes.

I looked back at her for a few moments, leaning over her with my arm above her to grab the pipe. I pulled away the second I felt my heart ache in my chest and walked over to my window to crack it open and took a long hit.

I could hear Ellie sit up on my bed and watch me as I blew the smoke out the window.

“I thought we were hotboxing?”

She said as I waved the smoke out of the window and coughed a little.

“Can’t, I don’t have a candle.” I mumbled and sit down to take another long hit. I blew the smoke out and set the pipe on the desk next to me. I sipped my sprite and sighed as I glanced back at Ellie. I saw her picking at a scab on her knee nervously.

“Is that from practice the other day?”

I ask and walk over to bend down and look at it.

“Yeah, when I tripped?”

Ellie said and moved her hand so I could look at it. It was kinda big, it looked painful at least but nothing we hadn’t both had our fair share of.

“Mm.. want me to bandage that up?”

I ask and before like could answer I was already up and grabbing my little kit from my desk and sitting on the floor in front of the bed.

“You don’t gotta do that.” Ellie said and sipped her sprite to sooth the already forming cotton mouth.

“I know.” I say and rip open a little alcohol wipe to the wound, Ellie winced and I smirked and looked up at her.

“Don’t be such a puss.” I tease and wipe away the dried blood and gunk from her wound.

“I’m not, you’re just pressing really hard.” Ellie retorted and her hands gripped the bed.

“Sure sure… want me to kiss it better?” I joke as I grab a bandaid and rip it open, gently sticking the little Spider-Man design onto the scrape.

“Yeah.”

Ellie says and chuckles. I shrug, I’m high, we’re best friends. I lean down and press a little kiss over the bandage and pull away to put my med kit back on the desk.

Ellie‘s face gets a little red a she looked down at you, kissing her leg so gently after patchig her up.

She clears her throat and looks away as she sips her sprite.

｡･: *:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*: ｡･

(Can you tell I have a homoerotic relationship with my childhood best friend or am I crazy)

This is kinda ass but I hope it didn’t suck super bad bc I have so many ideas for the rest of this series just PLEASE hear me out guys.

Uhhhh besides that plz lmk if anyone wants to keep reading this I’m always open to suggestions or ideas, I don’t plan on entirely sticking to the OG YJ script to like a tee, I’ll probably switch things around and maybe change things up a bit to better fit these characters. But there will be yearning, angst, obsession, and lesbians so… yay🧍‍♀️

#ellie williams #yellowjackets #free 🍉#amateur writer #tlou fanfiction #wlw yearning #i love combining hyperfixations that have nothing to do with each other

3 notes · View notes

grapecaseschoices · 6 months

Note

I would love to know some facts about erkan yasar, only if u feel comfy sharing. (:

What can I say about Erkan Andrew Yasar.

He's a bitch. Stay away from him.

No seriously, I can't stand that asshole. Regularly try to kill him but they won't let me! [JK he's my good time cheese. No I do actually do try to kill him tho.]

Pfft, so Andy. I'm going with my most recent RP Andy canons. My original Andys have gone through a few fcs, various ages, different points of his life, and different genres. The main thing about Andy is always: Vengeance and Loyalty. Oh, and he is SUPER Catholic. Sooner or later God's gonna cut you down.

Okay, so Andy:

Andy was born to a very loving family. His parents were in love and they loved him very much. About when Andy was ten his parents went out and disappeared. [Where are they? I don't know. They probably died, eventually. I never thought that far, I just liked the drama of them being missing and no one finding them.]

Andy's life went through two more big moves: 1. After his parents died he stayed with his dad's sister -- and that wasn't ... the best. More or less she kicked him out. Because her new husband was a homophobe. 2. But it was best for everyone that he moved in with his mom's cousin Adrian.

Okay, I'm giving you his history and not FACTS, so below:

Andy is a former marine

He smokes and drinks like it is his job.

His actual job is florist [and bail recovery agent]. He used to work with his uncle who was an event coordinator, had a popular business. But his uncle died. [Do you sense a theme?]

He had some major in landscaping, I actually looked it up but I forgot the title. He does some charity work at times tho. The concept of home means a lot to Andy. So he is good to places that were good to him, to people who cared when they didn't have to.

Andy can schmooze, he can mingle. But he is actually a very private [and paranoid] person.

He is always impeccably dressed. I don't think he has worn anything other than suits in his life. At least not since he hit his late teens, anyway. He loves pastels, actually. And is often dressed in white or light colors. He isn't against patterns either. [You might find him in something like this.]

His apartment by contrast looks like someone barely lives in it. No effort. [TWC Andy apt is def Minimal lmao]

He is divorced. He prefers one night stands, when he bothers. You don't go home to his place. No attachments please.

His platonic relationships mean the world to him. He has no living family left that he knows of [and in his aunt's case, that he acknowledges], so all his loyalty goes to them.

He is loyal like a dog.

I personally put Andy as lawful evil, because he has a Code [also he's very Catholic. I said that right?] But a friend of mine tagged him as True Neutral, and I can see it. I like it.

Andy DOES in fact go to Church. ROFLMAO. I can't remember if I've said if he goes to confession. ahhhh. anyway.

Here is AG Andy's pinboard bc now I'm filled with nostalgia. tw for weapons, blood. Sad shit.

#oc: andy yasar #grapecase answers #anon #thanks for the ask!#ugh i miss him #ask: erkan yasar #i actually got a commission done of him #im just waiting to figure how to credit it #also andy is turkish and spanish. so he is my spicy white in many ways lmao #[also bc he kills people. that's spicy.]#his inspo was marcel gerard [and originally - haha pun - elijah but not really. mostly marcel] -- and sometimes maybe klaus lmao #but mostly marcel. with a dash of frank and matt. i like the idea of someone smooth and all smiles. the affably evil #andy ended up becoming more introverted but he can definitely still do that affably evil face when he wants #he's more of a noble demon these days i think #have to review that trope #he is also very lowkey fidgety but mostly like he often has something in his hand that he's turning around -- usually when he's thinking #or observing

1 note · View note

castle-dominion · 10 months

Text

c5x24 finale

shirtless guy shirtless gal wait she is not dead nvm psycho? That is NOT hair dye, is it? wait lol there IS hair dye there just like that urban legend with the elevator game & the girl in the water tower

the washington monument? beckett is the president of the united states now /j girl that's what TRAINING is for or never in a lifetime I AM just a homicide cop right now! I need training to become what you want me to be!

castle lmao giant green lizard rewrite the book sfkjdhk dad, alexis is talking to you! castle she is a young woman she is making this decision oh, paris he loves her she has nightmares still? Oof, I'm glad that she still has trauma RC: No. But it sounds like someone has. BRO

greets ppl <3 Sito is great bc that is actually where his name is emphasized.

RC: Hey ‘sito. JE: Hey. RC: Where’s Beckett? JE: How the hell should I know? ((I love him)) Aren’t you two practically living together now? RC: Ah, well, she left me alone for a couple of days so I could finish Deadly Heat, which, by the way, is both deadly and hot, thank you very much for asking. JE: I didn’t. ((completely disinterested)) RC: Right. so like is she on call but only just got off the plane? (could clip the zito interaction ig)

hate the siren audio

Love em all in sunglasses which makes sense for actors bc hats would shade their faces too much but I love my hat on sunny days.

smoke on the roof lmao crystal sky? Hippie name. esposito my beloved "gonzalez every once in a while"

My man knows she had smth going on with her dad? they spoke? ah yes prostitute ofc.

Yeah if she was killed you DO need to know the truth

the most sus part of this is how the landlord actually heeded the tenants & their complaints abt bloody water place like this has a security cam in the elevator that actually WORKS?

Ooh I want to busk my way over europe

would she have told you? well she DID stay in a plave like that bro

RC: Straight A student, no history of trouble, on a dream European vacation, turns into a hooker in a ratty hotel. There is no way I’m letting Alexis go to Costa Rica now.

are you talking about yourself becks?

remember that case with the prof who took a hundred crappy jobs for a book he was writing & becks said "we need his manuscript" & the publisher was like "ain't got one"? yeah reminding me of that.

GIRL TELL HIM

Remember s1e2? elevator times? Wrong floor? THIS REALLY IS LIKE THE GIRL IN THE WATER TANK PLAYING THE ELEVATOR GAME Stairs? & did the 80yo come back down? whipsers "it's expensive" nobody coming into her room yet she had those sounds? Cam girl?

Well could the water have washed it away? LP: Water has a great way of washing away things like trace DNA. Also dr parish a bit earlier: If she was a prostitute, she wasn’t very good at it. there’s no evidence of sexual activity.

Well he could still be doing illegal stuff even if he didn't murder "but of course I wasn't spying on her all night every night" is what I would say

laptop comp sci esposito's hair is nice I like & ryan's outfit is great wait is this going to be a plot episode with the senator & all this stuff

these two same brain uwu. Also beckett totally used to be "wow who knew I should look for evidence when I could make things up" but now she is same braining with castle & looks for evidence to support or disprove the story. & rysposito are watching caskett finish each others sentences fdkjskldjl

"she's all yours" XD

is she in trouble? for not telling your boss you are leaving? "you were supposed to be on call" Gates knows that people deserve to move on & turnover rate is real *flashforward to her hating the job in s6* don't say kill for it! You're a homicide cop! gates is so proud of beckett

Lanie my beloved also what is in her mug? She doesn't drink coffee calls it twelve-midnight

beckett pronounce your Ts depends on the opportunity! Castle & everyone else in your life! You can always decline the job say "moi" & kiss him thru the phone!!

rysposito great outfits, ellis great character really? Which ones SHUUP

BRINGS HER COFFEE DOESN'T EVEN MENTION IT JUST GIVES HER THE COFFEE I like castle in this more red outfit, beckett looks amazing. Ryan I already mentioned but again hhhh he's so good RC: which is why you need me KB: *considering leaving*

clipping the "thank you?"

my partner mitch bauer, nice, & noce how she asks him to double check for her. MB: Is she in custody? RC: Sort of. She's dead.

The way their faces look

most of them or all of them lol

RC: So without it we’re dead in the water. Much like Erika. RC+JE: Too soon

RYAN IS SO SMART-- I DIDN'T EVEN THINK ABOUT THAT, ABOUT WHERE THE CALL CAME FROM three? I thouhgt you said ONE of them popped but now u have three?

he dead the way they open the door too forcefully & ryan needs to push it open man's got a nice place tho hanging from an extrnsion cord. I like how at least this time the body is above them instead of on the ground, it gives variety to murder positions *taps ryan on the shoulder like that* like bro?? what was that? Also ryan's black suit jacket with the red squares is incredible & I love it sm

Every time, they see two lines & say not suicide but homicide ooh technically first! Why does it say ian blayock & anonymous user? I'd say "you" if Iwere a chat system KB: So this was sent by whoever killed him. He lured her out.

Esposito sittong on someone's desk way far from caskett rly the lawyer guy was doing drugs?

Most people say they would never drive drunk but then when they are tipsy they say "I'm only a little bit drunk, it won't be so bad I'll be careful" & being intoxicated, it limits their inhibitions & walls & drunk ppl always do stupid things like idk dancing on tables. Driving is just another stupid thing that you would not do while sober but you might while drunk. why didn't ryan say in the first place "friend from high school who interned but died a year later" why did he wait until beckett asked him? Ah driving in heels tho? Tru.

RC: A single car accident with no witnesses? Guys, this is a classic conspiracy cover up. Though only a lowly intern, Pam stumbles on to something the firm is doing, something big. Nefarious. She has to be silenced, only after the accident Blaylock can’t take the guilt. Or admit the truth. So his only bastion is to escape the sweet oblivion of drugs.

& I've mentioned this a million times I like ryan's vest & coat & outfit & how he has the fancy of the vest but the chill of going tie-less but also the jacket & vest MATCH I'm hiding that laptop!

Esposito looking at these two & their samebrain moment with not his "heheh these two" face but not an "ew gross these two" face it's more,,, suspicious.

INT – RESIDENTIAL HOTEL BOILER ROOM *KR pops up from the floor. It’s dark and they’re using flashlights to search the room.* KR: Man. This was Castle’s theory. How did we draw the short straw? JE: I don’t know. JE: Let me ask you something. *Turns off flashlight* You notice anything weird about Beckett? KR: What do you mean? *JE jumps on a heater unit to get closer to the ceiling* JE: Well, she’s- she’s different. *KR looks up at him* Something’s off. KR: What are you saying? Like she’s --pregnant? JE: !!?!!?!! ((love the music)) JE: What are you talking about? Where did that even come from? ((from YOU suggesting smth & ryan was wondering what you were implying. He thought you already had a theory)) KR: Well, you said she was acting different. They’re consenting adults–.. ((I mean yeah accidents happen, & non-accidents)) JE: (adamantly) Beckett is not pregnant. C’mon, man. *He goes back to running his hands along the top of the ductwork, which uses actual duct tape which is like sticky aluminum foil NOT DUCK TAPE WHICH IS BAD FOR DUCTS & NOT MEANT TO BE USED ON DUCTS* KR: What’s so wrong with being pregnant? JE: You know, I can’t even talk to you about this right now. ((about what? pregnancy? or beckett? also oh no dominoes u just got a fic idea)) KR: Okay. Well, um … try to get over it before Jenny tells you the news, okay? ((you haven't told him yet?)) *That surprises JE. KR grins.* JE: What? KR: *grins wider* JE: Are you serious? Wowwww! Congratulations, man. That’s great! KR: Thanks, brother. *There’s suddenly a happiness to their work.*

Gosh I went to write a crackfic but then got food, ate food, danced around a bit, listened to music, & scrolled on tumblr until I got to the end of my dash Which I Never Do anymore these days. & ofc wrote the crackfic. holy crap. it is now 15.00. I could have watched two castle episodes in this time if I was better at this! & if I woke up at 9 instead of 12 I would have been able to watch four! Except that I wanted to clip everything I needed to clip today.

Speaking of which, I'll clip that & then finish the ep.

Ooh they are at beckett's home oh he found the boarding pass & you didn't tell me? *implies he is upset* & then if I were him I'd say "I'm so proud of you! Let's open up the wine!" Except it is now a fight. Bro she chose not to bc y'all haven't had that talk. She didn't want to tell you bc if she didn't get the job then she wouldn't have to but then that is still hiding things in a relationship which is sus...

castle is probably going to talk to his mom

Wow s2 esposito outfit right there. Brings me back to the first time I opened up the dvd set with my family & binge watched some good content with em. "yep" she says & throws down her coat so angrily he cares abt her, he follows her to the break room, he loves her. I could clip this but I won't. I love especkett's relationship. They are so great. If caskett wasn't my otp, I'd totally ship these two. In fact I do, I just still have caskett as my otp. You know, I totally think especkett had something going on back before the series started. Even "esposito" & "ryan" said it themselves while they were "reviewing hidden camera footage" of the 2 cool for school case.

last summer? the intern? ryan weird outfit tbh, looks a little bit s3 vibes

the third? well it COULD have been fine to get into a car crash but then he staged it & now it is REALLY bad.

KR: Hey. What’s going on? Where’s Castle? JE: Don’t ask.

lawyer lady grabs a pen his face falls she looks like she knows what is going on

"& we're not in court" XD

Martha is right So Have The Talk

MR: I know you. You do not hold back. Except this thing with Katherine. It took you what, three years to tell her how you felt, another year to act on it, and now, at the first sign of trouble, you’re ready to run. Why?

ryan's hair is so short I dislike He'd get a close friend or trusted associate to hire someone

give her time to think maybe...?

she doesn't tell esposito where she is going, she doesn't tell him what her fight with castle was about, but she doesn't even tell ryan she is leaving or that there was a fight, poor esposito being left in the dark but poorer ryan

Is she at the airport rn? No way. Oh meeting her dad <3 <3 I love jim someone had better have this clip on youtube, probably that person who has all the other clips so talk You have been together for a year ish now, he took three years to tell her, another year until they got together

This job is what I want but I am afraid of losing him. Not: he is what I want but I'm afraid, unsure where I will go, so I will hide in work

CASTLE IS LETTING HER GO. HE IS... SOMETHING, SOMETHING IS HAPPENING

how they really are hhhh this was insane

this room is too dark for the mirror to be functioning she is feeling nostalgic she's saying goodbye to the room, no longer leveraging it or that, maybe she is using it KB: So the question is, how many years of your own life are you going to sacrifice for someone else’s future?

Ooh nameplates for naming characters who are unnamed! detective turner sits across from det esposito, then Ryan is back-to-back with esposito, (& the coffee on his desk is the right mug, set design my beloved) couple uniformed officers chatting, rysposito walking up to her, first names they love her, they are concerned for her, (highkey s3 rysposito outfits)

caller ID much?

THE PARK THE PARK THE SWINGSET AT THE PARK he has a nice nose but I am getting in I am finding my way in because I love you. fshdfkjsdhfjshlakfjdshfjkh I know what's going to happen but I wish I was able to have seen this episode not knowing that they were going to get engaged or married.

houghton? srs? (that ring is huge & expensive af & seems like smth beckett would wear nowadays or even on outings in s1 but she is a cop, get her a ring with an inset gem not in a prong. Smth she can actually wear. Also, with her complexion u def need gold (or warm colours) not silver (or cool colours). Maybe s2-s3 beckett could have had silver.

Ok time to clip bonus features babes! it is 15.45! Totally not late lmao!

Maybe I can watch audio commentaries while prepping veg for supper or smth...

#castle 5x24 #castle 5x24 spoilers #castle 5x24 quote #castle s5 spoilers #the elevator game episode

0 notes

jostenjorts · 2 years

Text

continuing on from this https://jostenjorts.tumblr.com/post/666747509802139648/lets-be-honest-i-was-obviously-gonna-make bc I just learned that Neil’s favourite colour is grey/gray

After all the arguments over whether or not grey was a shade or colour that ruined every family meal, bonding, day to day activities

Hell, Nathaniel had even gotten a call during class once from his parents because he wasn’t answering their group chat and it was just to get his opinion on the matter

It continued on over the years and he hadn’t realised that one argument between his parents had become part of his day to day life

Andrew was the first to point it out, all the grey that Nathaniel had. From the case on his phone, his shirts all being different shades of grey, never white or black and his shoes that he wore were the same

He dismissed it, thinking the blonde had gone beyond crazy

Only to go home one day and stare at his room

It was so very grey, the only colour being splashes of orange from his time with the foxes and there was red hanging around too from his time as a raven

There was also white and black, which further brought attention to all of the grey in his room

He hated it, but it also made sense why his mother never came into his room unless she needed too. Though he only assumed that was because she didn’t want to walk in on him doing whatever

An hour later his parents were arguing over it again. Andrew was with him, only staring at his phone, already used to the ‘grey being a shade not a colour- stfu Nathan it is a colour’ argument

Andrew nudged his knee against Nathaniel’s, entering that small space that kept between themselves while sitting on the redheads bed

The two shared a look, a grin from Nathaniel and a twitch of the lips from Andrew before he forced it down, looking disgusted at himself for almost smiling

They went downstairs, then to the basement when they saw the door opened

Mary was stitching up a wound on Nathan’s shoulder, muttering to herself how big of a fucking idiot her husband was for not watching his back and mockingly asked where Lola was

Nathan told her to stop being jealous about Lola

“She’s dead, you killed her, why are you still being bitchy and bringing her name up?”

He hissed when she ‘accidentally’ did her work a little more aggressive then usual. Only to stop, looking up to see her son and his not boyfriend

“oh hi boys! what brings you two down here?” she asked, previous conversation forgotten

“just had some news to share” Nathaniel responded, hands going to his pockets and once again shared a look with Andrew before paying attention to his parents again

“if the news is about you and him dating, we already know and we love you but it was painfully obvious-“ Nathan started, only to curse at the smack to the head he got from Mary

Nathaniel and Andrew only stared at the two, one staying looking amused while the other went back upstairs needing a smoke

“well no, that’s not what I was going to drop on you but we aren’t dating.” He said, sounding close to laughing. He didn’t know what he and Andrew were, they didn’t put a name on it nor talked about what they were

“well, go on then.”

Nathaniel started to walk back up the stairs, wanting to avoid the argument that was too happen in an instant. “Well you see, mum you hate it, dad you’ll get mad either way from what I’m about to say,” another step up the stairs, body turned and ready to bolt. “Discovered recently that my favourite colour is grey, okay bye, love you, I’ll be back later.” He left, slamming the basement door shut and ran out the front door, grinning to see Andrew already in his car

Before he left, Nathan and Mary were heard arguing and calling Nathaniel to come back, but he either didn’t hear or just chose to ignore them

Either way, the two ended up arguing. Mary being mad that her son liked the colour grey but also being pleased to hold that over Nathan’s head

That grey is a colour

Nathan was annoyed that his son had called grey a colour when it was a shade and jumped right into that argument for the second time in the last hour as Mary continued to stitch him up

#aftg #all for the game #andreil #andrew minyard #neil josten #nathan wesninski #nathaniel wesninski #mary hatford

38 notes · View notes

manonblaqkbeak · 3 years

Text

How We Met

here it is, my last fic for rowaelin month! thank you so much to everyone that’s read, liked and commented on my fics, it’s been so much fun reading and writing these last four weeks! i’m glad to know that i’m not the only one that is in dire need of more rowaelin content (srsly, i would pay sjm a truck load of money for a strictly rowaelin book bc i miss them sm)

here’s part 4 for the little series i had going on. i was so tempted to make this an angst piece but held back lol.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

cw: none

1.8k words

enjoy and thank you again!!! :) 💕💕💕💕

Gathering the ingredients for the cake that she and Ophelia were going to make for Rowan, Aelin plopped them down on the kitchen counter and tied her and her six year old daughters hair back. Even in the kitchen light, Ophelia's hair was a vivid shade of silver and when she turned to look at her mother, the golden ring in her eyes were just as bright.

“Up, mama!” Ophelia asked, pointing to the step ladder that Olive made for her little sister in her woodshop class at school. Getting it off from atop the fridge, Aelin and Ophelia started their baking session for today. It wasn't often that Aelin baked cakes from scratch but it wasn't every day that her firstborn turned sixteen—not that Aelin could really comprehend that her Olive was sixteen—but Aelin wanted to do this for her, wanted to make something special.

She hoped that it wasn't going to taste as bad as the last cake she baked. Rowan had been sick afterwards and didn't go to work the next day.

That was five years ago, so surely with gaining wisdom as people said when others got older, her baking skills grew too.

“Where did everyone go?” Ophelia asked, her little tongue poking out as she helped Aelin sift the flour.

“To get dinner for tonight. We're having Ollie's favourite.” Which was cuisine from the Southern Continent, there was a restaurant that specialised in the spicy food, and Aelin couldn't wait—she and Rowan often tried to recreate their favourite recipes, but it was never right, so Olive wanted to have the genuine stuff for her birthday and not her parents shoddy attempts.

Not that Aelin could blame her.

They continued making the chocolate cake, Ophelia babbling on about her day at school, when her little one asked, “How did you and papa meet?”

Aelin blinked at the sudden question, but answered it nevertheless. “At the grocery store.”

Ophelia furrowed her brows, and with the way her nose scrunched up, she looked so much like Rowan that it made her heart sing. When Aelin first realised that she was pregnant, she was nervous, they had only been married for seven months and while they spoke about having a child of their own, she didn't think it would happen so quickly—but Rowan's enthusiasm melted away her fears. She would never forget his tears of joy when she showed him the pregnancy test, his beaming smile when they heard her heartbeat for the first time. Aelin would walk through hell, as long as Rowan was by her side, or waiting for her at the end.

It wasn't always perfect, however, they had their ups and downs like every long-term couple, they had moments where it felt like they were walking on tightrope, either because of their own personal issues or marriage issues, or when Egan was fourteen and completely lashed out at Aelin, accusing her of replacing his mother—but she worked with her son, telling him that she had never intended to do that, that Lyria would always be the woman that brought him into the world, and that Aelin was raising him. Her heart broke in two at his pain, but she understood, he grew up with photos and stories of Lyria.

Or when they had the awkward conversation when Olive was eleven and asked why she didn't look like Rowan, and Aelin had explained her story, about Sam being her biological father, but he had given them space for Rowan to raise her instead. That had lead to brooding silences and confusion, but otherwise, Olive still saw Rowan as her dad, but she did ask from time to time about Sam, what he was like and what he was doing (the last update Aelin received from him via email that his wife was pregnant with their second child. Aelin was so happy for him that he was able to have a family, a feat that was made easier since Arobynn had been dead for years by this point) and that she would like to meet him properly one day; Aelin had kept that to herself, not wanting to tell Sam in case Olive changed her mind—Aelin hoped that she wouldn't.

Overall, their life together was what she needed, she went to bed each night loved and fulfilled. It was better than what she might have had with Chaol all those years ago, she was fairly certain that if she had married him, it wouldn't have been a long marriage.

“How did you meet at the food store?” Ophelia asked, her brow still furrowed as she and Aelin stirred the cake batter. It surprisingly smelled good.

“I needed something from a high shelf,” Aelin said, “and I couldn't reach it. Your papa was only a few feet away from me, so I asked him to get it for me.” She might have also subtly ogled him as his shirt exposed his tanned skin, and Aelin had damned near swooned at the sight of his six pack.

“Did you get married at the food store?”

Aelin laughed at the question. “No, we got married at the beach. And then you arrived not long afterwards.” Sometimes they wanted another, but things financially were going so well that they didn't want to jeopardise that by adding another mouth to feed.

“Can you have another wedding?” Ophelia asked, looking at her mum with wide eyes. “So I can go? Please?”

“I'll talk to your daddy about it, but I like the sound of that.” Kissing her daughters forehead, they continued. Just as they were putting the cake in the oven and the icing mix in the fridge, the front door opened and three booming voices infiltrated the house and the mouth watering goodness of food.

Aelin's eyes widened at the amount of food that Rowan piled on the table. It looked like they were feeding a small army and not a family of five.

Ophelia helped her older brother set the table, Egan ruffing her hair as he recounted their little adventure to the restaurant.

As they sat down, Aelin mentioned Ophelia's request. Rowan pretended to mull it over as their daughter pleaded, giving her best puppy dog eyes. It didn't take for Rowan to relent—he really had trouble saying no to her—saying that a second wedding was a great idea.

Ophelia squealed in delight and squealed even more when food was placed in front of her (she was very much like Aelin in that regard).

“How did the conversation of another wedding start?” Rowan asked as they all started eating.

“Phia here wanted to know how we meet.”

Olive snorted. “Yes, the ever romantic story of meeting in the toilet paper aisle.”

“It was not the toilet paper isle!” Aelin protested. “It was the cereal aisle.”

“At least you kids have inherited my manners,” Rowan said, “your mother didn't even ask nicely. She just came over to me and said, 'You're tall, could you get that box for me?'” It had taken him a moment to realise he had been spoken to, too focused on deciding what box of porridge to get when Aelin showed up, wearing a faded band shirt and shorts, pointing to the box of cereal that had far too much sugar to be healthy. He had said 'yes' because it was the nice thing to do, and had stayed behind, talking to her for so long in the aisle that his vanilla ice cream had started to melt.

It was the best decision in his life back then, he never thought he would have gained a friend in the grocery store—and that the friend would become his wife.

“I have manners. I said, 'Excuse you' first before I told you what I needed.”

“That's not really using manners there, ma,” Egan said, smiling as poked her tongue out. He looked so much like Lyria that it was almost scary—he still loved flowers and plants too, and was currently studying to become a florist and then one day horticulture. The backyard was full of flowers and plants thanks to him, making into a little wonderland instead of the barren plain it used to be.

“I did say 'thank you' afterwards.”

“You said 'thanks',” Rowan interjected, laughing as Aelin threw a chunk of her flatbread at his head. Ophelia's cute laughter rent through the air.

“It's the same thing!”

“If you say so, love,” Rowan muttered, his lips twitching. Aelin rolled her eyes in the dramatic way Rowan was used to, but he saw the mirth behind the movement.

“Like I said Phie, it's very romantic,” Olive said drily, sounding very much like Rowan. She had even inherited his scowl, which she was wearing now as she sniffed at the air. “Is something burning?”

Aelin had never run so fast as she did right then, the kitchen filling with smoke as she took in the blackened cake. Swearing viciously under her breath, Aelin chucked the cake into the bin, apologising to Olive as she did so.

“It's okay, mum, dad got me an ice-cream cake earlier today anyway.”

Aelin narrowed her eyes at her husband, who simply gave her an innocent smile in answer.

Rejoining her family, they talked well into the night, helping Aelin to forget her failed baking attempt. Ophelia asked more questions about their time in the grocery store and how that moment lead to friendship, to pining for the other without realising it, to a life together.

And to think, Aelin almost didn't go to the grocery store that day.

Rowan thanked the gods that he had remembered at the last moment that he had no porridge left, otherwise, he might not have met Aelin at all. Might not have had this life, this family. Part of him would always be sad that things had gone so wrong with Lyria, and he would always miss and love her. But he learned in therapy that it was good to have a life, and Rowan was glad that he heeded that advice.

He thanked the gods all the time.

And thank the rutting gods he did right now for the umpteenth time that Aelin deemed him tall enough to get her food for her, to stay in that aisle with him as they got to know each other.

Rowan was a very happy man indeed as he and Aelin went to bed that night, the smiles still on their faces at Olive's unrestrained joy at the sight of the car they spent weeks looking at second-hand dealerships at, hunting for the perfect car for their daughter.

Thank the rutting gods for all those moments in the past, present, and future.

Rowan couldn't wait to marry her again, and neither could Aelin.

Life was good.

#rowaelin #rowaelinmonth #my work #thank u!!

44 notes · View notes

billyhargrovebabe · 3 years

Text

Thank youuu for the tag!! @lovebillyhargrove 💞💞💞 I love reading everyone’s pieces!!

WIP TAG GAME

Rules: Share the latest line however much you want from your work in progress and then tag as many people as there are words in the line as you want.

I’ve got about a hundred half-written Harringrove pieces bc I have commitment issues apparently lol. I also hate my writing but that’s besides the point…

Anyways… here’s one.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Steve knew it was his fault.

The last time he and Billy had been together, he had said the word — blurted it out when their skin was flushed together.

He's in love with Billy Hargrove. Had told Billy so much himself.

And Billy had just gone rigid beneath him, his bright eyes fading into something reserved, something Steve hadn't understood as he pulled himself up from the blond's chest, stricken with panic.

"I'm not— I didn't..."

Billy never responded, not really. He hadn't said those words back, he had just said shut up, pretty boy, and pulled him back down to his body, pressing his lips to Steve's blazing cheek.

He hadn't seen Billy since then, after he had vomited his feelings at the poor guy, when they weren't even official. He knew he was the reason Billy had just disappeared — scared of commitment, not feeling the same way, blah, blah.

It’s been a month. A whole ass month. No golden curls or baby blues in sight.

And sure, he’d noticed the bruises now and then, dusted across Billy’s ribs or occasionally his face, but he’d never thought anything of them other than Billy being Billy. He liked to fight, whether it be Tommy H or some nameless stranger on the other side of town. Billy came with bruises — that was just Billy.

Except he storms into Hopper’s office, ignoring Flo’s protests about it being too early, that the chief’s having his coffee time, and slams the door shut behind him.

“How has a teenager being missing for over a month and you’ve not done a damned thing about it?!” He spits out, not bothering to sit in the chair opposite Hop, that he gestures to.

Hop drinks his coffee so scalding hot that the steam escapes his mouth, blinks sluggishly, and says nothing but a grumpy, “Huh?”

And Steve wants to shout, to scream, why does nobody give a fuck about Billy?! Instead, he stares down the older man with narrowed eyes.

“Billy. Billy Hargrove. He’s been gone an entire month to the day. He could be dead for all I know! And you— you’ve just sat around drinking coffee and eating donuts!”

Hopper sends him this calculated look as he sets his giant mug down on the wooden desk top. Steve’s expecting something — an excuse, a lie — but he’s met with the smoke of the cigarette Hopper plucks from his breast pocket and lights up instead.

He slams a hand down on the desk, the coffee mug jumping at the impact. “There's a loving family back at home for him, who you told there was nothing you could do to find him! What excuse for a chief are you, Hopper?!"

The older man, calmer than a dove floating in the wind, rises to his feet. He yanks open his top drawer, empties the contents on the desk in front of him. Spreads the small squares across the glossy surface.

Steve furrows his brows, seeing the polaroids Hop was spreading out in front of him. He leans closer.

“Does it look like this kid is from a loving family, Steve?”

The smoke he huffs out is sour in Steve’s nostrils, knocks his stomach queasy and leaves a sour taste in his mouth. It sours more when he picks up the first of many and eyes it carefully.

Billy.

He’s looking away from the camera, baby blues focused on the floor, with a bloody and bruised face. One of his arms is held close to his chest, bent at an ungodly angle and his t-shirt is stained, soaked in several places, notably from his dripping nose.

Steve’s stomach violently lurches.

“The kid’s lucky to be alive if I’m being damn honest.”

He picks up another, sees a trail of marks stomped into Billy’s ribs, skin broken in some places and swollen. Blood is etched across his chest, trailing down his neck.

The next is a close up of his face. His bright blue eyes behind splats of bruising, one eye almost closed off entirely as he stares directly into the camera. And his lips — those soft lips that Steve knew well — were cracked with bloodstained teeth poking from behind.

There was still maybe half a dozen more.

He’s never felt so dumb in his life. Being a kid who’s parents were distant to him entirely and permanently disproving of him, he should have spotted the signs. Billy’s dad was a cold-blooded abuser.

The date printed in the corner of each square makes his breath catch in his lungs, that night. The one where Billy fled in the middle of the night after Steve confessed his love for him. He probably got caught sneaking in by his dad because Steve couldn’t keep his stupid mouth shut.

“Not convinced? Take a look at the damned report." Hopper jerks, flops down this thick file that claps against the wood of the desk and sends the polaroids flying.

Steve reaches for it, flips it open with a harsh swallow past the lump in his throat.

William 'Billy' Hargrove described the assault against him by his father after coming home late at night. He says he was pushed to the floor and landed on his arm. His father then proceeded to inflict more damage to his body — specifically using the force of his boots against Billy's ribs. Billy explained how the injuries to his face came after his father had picked him up from the floor by his collar, and verbally assaulted him. Finally, Billy left their family home and drove off in his car, to which he was met by Chief Jim Hopper less than an hour later.

His heart thunders in his chest. If he had known— he would’ve done something about the bruises earlier. He would have told Hopper or… shit, he would have even given Billy a key to his house to keep him away from his dad.

“That's no loving family, Steve.”

“I didn’t know,” he confesses to the older man. He lets out a shaky breath, wills the tears in his eyes to stay put. “Is he okay?”

Hop grunts. “He’s fine. He’s safe now.”

“Where is he?”

“That I can’t tell you just yet — for his protection and for the sake of the case. I’m working on the case day and night to get the kid’s old man behind bars. And before you start— he doesn’t appreciate being kept away from everyone either. Especially you.” Hop points his burning smoke pointedly at Steve, his cheeks burn instantly.

“Here…” The older man scribbles on one of his notepads, tears the sheet off before handing it to Steve. “One phone call a day, alright? That’s it.”

Steve nods immediately, catches sight of Hopper’s phone sat on the desk.

“Nuh-uh. You can use your own landline, kid. Don’t want you blocking up my line all the time.”

“Yeah, yeah. Thanks, Hop.” Steve spins on the spot, heads for the door with a rush in his steps. He needs to get home and to dial the number, needs to apologise and maybe tell Billy he loves him again now that he’s safe.

“And remember— one call a day only!”

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Polaroids will forever be one of my favourite prompts for these boys… this one just went a different way to usual? Don’t hate me lol.

Steve’s an oblivious bean, a little dumb too… but that’s okay — he figures it out eventually. Also, I think y’all can kinda guess where Billy is, no?

Tags:

Everyone who made it this far, this is my personal nomination for you to participate!!

#billy hargrove #billy hargrove x steve harrington #billy x steve #billy/steve #steve harrington #harringrove #harringrove fics #angsty #mentions of abuse #Steve is oblivious #jim hopper

38 notes · View notes

expectingtofly · 3 years

Text

January 24th

birthday boy dean, a little angst, then happy fluff, canon divergent bc the finale sucks, established dean/cas, human!cas, dean is loved <3

2.3k words

also on ao3

• January 24th, 2003 •

“Happy birthday to me,” Dean muttered, cracking open another beer. The Impala’s heating whirred, fighting to keep the cold out, the radio playing a mixture of music and static. Through the windshield, he could see the dark exterior of the Walmart, out back of which he’d parked under a broken streetlight.

He glanced at his phone, but there were no new messages. Bobby had called him earlier to wish him a happy birthday, to ask how he was. Dean hadn’t told him that he was alone. His dad had left a week ago for a rugaru case in Indiana. Dean hadn’t heard from him since, which either meant the rugaru was dead and buried, or something bad had happened… but he didn’t want to consider that. More likely, his dad had gotten tied up in another case in the same area. When he’d call or text again, Dean didn't know. Not tonight, that was for sure. He didn’t know if his dad even remembered it was his birthday, or cared.

Grabbing the plastic Walmart bag in the passenger seat, he pulled out the pie he’d bought for this not-so special occasion—blueberry, because the store had run out of apple. He winced opening up the plastic container; he was pretty sure his right wrist was sprained, courtesy of getting thrown against the wall during the salt ‘n burn his dad had sent him on before leaving. He’d found the bones soon enough and disposed of the ghost, and today Bobby had clued him in to a possible poltergeist case a few miles away. He’d head there tomorrow.

Tonight, it was his birthday.

Which didn’t mean much, all things considered. Earlier, he’d considered going to a bar, trying to find someone for a quick hook-up, but he was tired and bruised from the fight with the ghost, and in all honesty, he just wanted to fucking sleep. The roar of trucks passing on the nearby highway and the cold leaking through the windows was going to make that difficult.

He glanced at his phone again, but it remained dark and silent. Fucking ‘course Sam wouldn’t text. He was angry at himself for even expecting him to. They hadn’t spoken since Sam left for college. Dean knew why. Knew Sam was probably still pissed off from his last fight with their dad, too angry at Dean for not coming with him, for not telling their dad off. As if that was even an option. As if Dean could’ve changed their dad’s mind, as if he was supposed to abandon their dad when he was searching for the thing that killed their mom. That’s what was important—killing the monster, not taking fucking college classes.

The pie was cold and a little stale, but he was too hungry to care. “Smoke on the Water” played on the radio, and he turned the volume up a little. The trees lining the parking lot shook in a gust of wind Dean could feel rattle the car, and a stray shopping cart creaked in an empty parking space nearby. Dean eyed it. If it drifted over here in the night and scratched his car…

His phone vibrated in the center console and he snatched it up. A text from Sammy. Happy birthday.

Dean stared at the words for a long moment. The last text he’d received from Sam was a simple, I made it to Stanford. That had been nearly 5 months ago. His fingers hovered over the keyboard as he tried to decide how to reply. How was Sam getting along? What nerdy classes was he taking? Had he met anyone? Did he regret leaving? No, most likely, Sam had found whatever he was looking for and was enjoying his normal, apple pie life. Weirdo.

“Thanks,” he settled on, because if he asked Sam a question about college, he’d only be waiting all night for a response that might never come.

Tossing his phone aside, he opened another beer.

He must’ve dozed off sometime later because he suddenly jolted out of sleep to an empty parking lot and 11:45pm on the dash. Stiff from sitting in the front seat, he rubbed at his eyes and swore as he almost knocked over a stray beer bottle at his feet.

Turning off the Impala to not run down the battery, he got into the backseat and kept his coat on instead of folding it into a pillow, covered himself with the two blankets usually stored in the trunk. He crossed his arms over his chest and stared at the back of the front seats, trying to ignore how tight his throat felt. Fucking pathetic, getting worked up over nothing. What had he expected? Today was just another day, nothing special about it. No reason to treat his birthday any different than any other day, to expect anyone else to treat it any different.

He clenched his hands into fists until the stinging in his eyes receded. Soon his birthday would be past and he wouldn’t have to feel like such a pathetic loser. Well, he thought as he shut his eyes, at least not one alone on his birthday.

• January 24, 2021 •

Nothing like depressing memories to wake up to on your birthday, Dean thought, lying in bed, staring up at the bunker ceiling. That night in 2003 was still fresh in his memory. He remembered waking up stiff and half-frozen the next morning, driving to another case, one more year under his belt. That was probably the last year he attempted to celebrate his birthday—if drinking shitty beer in an empty parking lot could be considered much of a celebration.

He always remembered the day, even if he tried to ignore it, and so did Sam, and Bobby, when the guy was alive. But apocalypses and cases always took first priority, so any celebrating went on the back burner. He wasn’t one much for parties and gifts anyway.

Whispering and footsteps sounded in the hallway outside his bedroom door and he glanced at the alarm clock on his nightstand. 8:16am. Way too early for anyone to be wandering around. Cas hadn’t been in bed next to him when he woke, which was strangely disconcerting. He’d gotten so used to waking up to Cas in the few recent weeks they’d been together. Miracle wasn’t in the room either, asleep on his dog bed like he usually was, and for a moment, in the quiet of his bedroom, Dean felt the terrible loneliness of that night 18 years ago.

That was a long time ago, he told himself, trying to push the gloom aside. For the first time in a while, he was cautiously hopeful that this birthday would be a good one—or, at least, not a miserable one. Every day recently had been a good day—a phenomenon Dean was still getting used to. Chuck was dead, Cas was alive, his whole family was together. It didn’t matter if his birthday was celebrated, if anyone even remembered it was his birthday or not. He was more than lucky with what he had now. What more could he ask for?

All the same, his birthday didn’t exactly scream fun times and good memories, and he kinda wished the day would just be over with. As he lay there, willing himself to get up, his bedroom door cracked open, and he looked over to see Cas peeking inside.

“Oh,” Cas said, catching his eye. He stepped further into the room. “I was hoping you were still asleep.”

“Nope.” Dean propped himself up on one elbow and rubbed at his eyes. “Just woke up.”

Shutting the door, Cas came over and crawled into bed next to him. Dean lay back down to wrap him in his arms, and Cas kissed the side of his neck, then under his jaw, then his cheek, and finally propped himself up to look Dean in the eyes with a soft smile. Despite the heavy weight that had settled on him with the memories of his past birthdays, Dean found himself smiling back.

Leaning forward, Cas kissed him. “Happy birthday,” he said.

So, Cas remembered. “Yeah, guess it’s that day again,” Dean said. He glanced at the doorway. “How long you been up?”

“Not too long.” Cas studied him and Dean nearly squirmed under his gaze. Even without his grace, Cas still managed to make him feel like his soul was on display. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah, fine. Just, uh, just thinking.” He touched a powdery white splotch on Cas’ t-shirt, a black AC/DC shirt that used to be his. “This flour or cocaine?”

Cas gave him a look. “Flour." He kissed Dean again, then pulled away too soon. "Are you ready to get up?”

“Yeah, was about to. Why? Were you cooking?”

“Um, maybe.” Dean raised an eyebrow. “You should come to the kitchen. There’s, uh, something you need to see.”

“What?”

“Just, come on.” Standing, he tugged on Dean’s hand, urging him out of bed.

Curious, Dean got up and let him lead him down the bunker hallway—Cas hadn’t even let him get dressed, insisting it was urgent. As they neared the kitchen, he caught the smell of coffee and baked goods, and he heard laughter, Jack’s, and someone quietly shushing him, Sam.

“What’s going on?” he asked, but Cas only said,

“You’ll see.” He paused before the doorway to the kitchen and gestured. “You go in first.”

Still unsure of what he was gonna be faced with, Dean braced himself before entering the room.

Darkness... then Jack leapt out from behind the kitchen island as Sam flicked on the lights.

“Surprise!” Jack shouted, and Dean was bombarded with both Miracle racing over and running laps around his feet and Jack wrapping his arms around him in a hug.

“Fuck—woah.” Dean hugged Jack back and looked around the room. Balloons were tied to the kitchen island, which was covered with a pie, bacon, a breakfast casserole, and wrapped gifts.

“Happy birthday!” Jack said, pulling back to meet his eyes. “Were you surprised?”

“Yeah, shit.” Dean looked back at Sam and Cas, who were smiling almost as big as Jack. “I didn’t know you guys were gonna do all this.”

“Cas and I made apple pie,” Jack said, letting go of Dean to point to the gifts. “And these are for you.”

“You made pie?” Dean asked Cas. “And didn’t burn down the kitchen?”

“Sam helped,” Cas admitted.

Coming forward, Sam clapped Dean on the back. “Happy 70th birthday,” he joked, and Dean rolled his eyes.

“Funny.” But he pulled Sam into a hug. Sam let out a noise of surprise, then hugged him back.

Shit, they really had remembered, and gone above and beyond. Letting go of Sam, Dean cleared his throat. “This is, uh, this is really nice.” Damned if he didn’t get a little teary-eyed, though he would’ve denied it if anyone called him out.

Cas made him sit down at the table and served him a heaping serving of casserole, set a steaming cup of coffee in front of him. Sam lit candles on the pie and carried it over to the table as he, Cas, and Jack sang a horribly off-key rendition of “Happy Birthday.” Dean rolled his eyes, but he blew out the candles and took the card Jack handed him.

“So this is what you were hiding,” he said, it dawning on him. Yesterday, he had walked into the library and startled Jack, who’d sprawled his upper half over the table, saying, “Don’t look! It’s a surprise.”

He looked up at Cas. “And this is why you were asking me all those damn questions. You were asking for gift ideas?” A week ago, Cas had hounded him with a series of vague questions that sounded suspiciously like the ones he’d been asked around Christmas, leading to several gifts under the tree.

“Dude, you didn’t think we’d actually forget your birthday, did you?” Sam asked, sitting down across from him.

In hindsight, he guessed he should’ve realized they were planning something, but it’d been a long time since his birthday meant anything more than a few beers and takeout. “No, uh. Just didn’t expect all this.”

“You deserve it,” Cas said, sitting next to him, sincere as always.

His face warming a little, Dean opened the card Jack had given him, smiling at the scrawled words in crayon—they really needed to work on the kid’s spelling. Sam and Cas had signed it too, and he smiled at the you’re a dinosaur now from Sam, and the I love you Cas had written, accompanied by a small red heart.

“Thanks,” he said, looking up. “For, uh, for all of this.”

“‘Course,” Sam said. Reaching over, Cas took his hand, and Dean squeezed his hand tightly before kissing him. Fuck, his eyes were stinging again—but it was his birthday, he should get a free pass.

“Try the pie!” Jack told him as he tried to discreetly thumb at the wetness in the corner of his eye. “Cas and I improvised with the recipe.”

Against all odds, the pie was pretty great, and Dean slipped food to Miracle sitting at his feet to hide how he couldn’t stop smiling.

Cas knocked their knees together under the table, then leaned in and kissed his cheek. “Happy?” he asked, pulling back to look at him.

“Yeah,” Dean said, looking around the crowded table, at the warm food, at Sam and Jack. He met Cas’ eyes and smiled. “Really happy.”

Tag List:

@becky-srs @xojo @marvelnaturalock @aelysianmuse @prayedtoyou @letsjustdieeveryone @good-things-do-happen-dean @misha-moose-dean-burger-lover @theninthdutchessofhell @madronasky @famouspsychicpizzabandit @multifandomdisorder @arcticfox007 @celestialcastiel @improvedpeanut @castiel-is-a-cat @harmonyhelms @thetrueliesofafangirl @dean-you-assbutt-cas-loves-you @theangelwiththewormstache @confusedisaster @welcome-to-crowleys-hellhole @darksongfire @lykanyouko

Let me know (message, ask, comment) if you’d like to be tagged in my destiel fics or removed from the list :)

#happy birthday dean <3 <3 #he deserves all the happiness in the world #being alone on your birthday sucks #but at least in the spn that lives in my head #dean will never celebrate his birthday alone again #fluff #happy dean #expectingtofly writes

133 notes · View notes

herether · 4 years

Text

Noragami Chapter 88.2 Thoughts

//breathes\\

This post is gonna be kinda long bc there are a few (a LOT) of important panels this chapter. Holy Smokes. Pls bear with me.

“your sister would whimper things like “I wish I could come back as something else” or “maybe i’d be happier in heaven.””

“and you’d say, “but then you’d have to die, right?” ”

Holy. Fuck.

Idk what AdachiToka was thinking putting this in, but this is the REAL stab in the heart. What the fuck. Especially the next panel:

Run towards the future.

Haru (Yukine) would say they’d get out of there someday, together, running towards the future where they could get away from the abuse they were experiencing and live happily. Their goal was to get out of here, and every time his older sister would whimper about wanting to die, (which, by the way, is fucking devastating and soul crushing), Haru would tell her—hey, I know it’s hard, but we’ll work though it. It’ll ease up on us. We’ll get out of here. You can’t die.

Her little brother.

I cant imagine what’s weighing on her conscience after this. After all, she was the one that ended up living and not him. How absolutely traumatic it must feel for her.

Yukine’s asking why he sent his sister letters when they had telephones, and although I imagine most of you probably figured the answer out, i’ll just add it in here anyways.

It was too dangerous to call her.

After his mother and Yuka left, his mother probably tugging Yuka as quickly as she could out of that house and leaving Haru behind, their trash father .2 was more than likely in such a state of hatred that he never wanted to hear from them again. He would probably demand from Haru not talk to them/see them, so it was too dangerous to do anything other than send her letters.

Regarding his web-search, I was a little confused as to why there’s absolutely nothing about him. But thinking about it more, it could be that as some of you mentioned, it isn’t Yukine’s full name. Haru could be short for ‘Haruka’ or something. Even then, though, the search would still bring up something, right?

So I came up with the conclusion that no, that probably wasn’t why nothing showed up, but rather the fact that nobody looked for him. Nobody bothered, his dad couldn’t care less about it other than those ‘flyers’ (?) he was passing around. 35 years ago might have been a time where stuff like that was just.... hopeless. If a child was gone that was it. You wouldn’t find him again. There was no point. Or maybe— many people in the neighborhood didn’t bother looking because they knew the Tajima family’s father. They knew that he was abusive and assumed that Haru had ran away to find his mother and sister, so they thought, hey, there’s no point. He’s fine where he is.

Although Yukine was talking about his past family with the whole “why did they leave me behind” thing, I think it ties in pretty well to what’s going on now. I’ve already seen a couple posts talking about this, where, the lovely noragami fandom have said that what happened before his death is coming back full circle to what’s happening now. In Yukine’s eyes, everyone around him: Yato, Hiyori (ESPECIALLY THESE TWO.) Kofuku, Ebisu, Tenjin—Daikoku, Mayu— everyone abandoned him again. It’s almost as if he just didn’t matter. No one cares about his existence, now, in Hagusa’s eyes, Father is the only “kind” one.

Then— we get a panel showing the Child abuse cases rising, and Hagusa realizes he isn’t the only one this has happened to. He accepts this darkness, accepts what’s going on, why he is this way, and in the last panel we see Yuuki, Hagusa’s final form finally being able to fully take over him. Hagusa lets him in—accepts him, hence the black hair.

Wanted to put this in here because UM HELLO IMAGINE seeing your CHILD looking like THAT and ?!;&:&:&:!:!:!:¥~$~!;’ The absolute FEAR in Yato’s eyes hohmygod.

Also I swear if Yato loses an eye after that scratch—

We can imagine AdachiToka will probably end up giving him some kind of scar as a reminder, especially for Yukine, that this had happened. Since AdachiToka really likes these fkin reminders. With Sakura, the “ne”, with Bishamon and the “ma”— we might as well give Yukine a reminder of what happened and give Yato one eye :D no? IF THAT HAPPENS IM GONNA LOSE MY SHIT PLS NO.

And finally:

I want to remind every single one of you that Yukine still has Hiyori and Yato’s charms so everything is going to be OK. ALRIGHT. OK.

#noragami #noragami spoilers #spoilers #noragami 88.2 #yato #yukine #theories #thoughts #save them all #wheres hiyori #trash dad

505 notes · View notes

spaceshipkat · 3 years

Text

part 2 of my Rea///lm Brea///ker recap will cover chapters 9 - 16

part 1 covering the prologue - chapter 8 can be found here

chapter 9: in Dom's POV, the chapter begins with Dom seeing a lot of Cortael in Corayne. Old Cor humans are born of travel and crossing, conquest and voyage. Corayne haggles for three horses in the stable in Lemarta. the trader seems nervous around Dom. Corayne bargains for the horses--two stallions and a mare--to be sold at half price. their destination is only a few days' ride away. Corayne says merchants are easier to work with when they're scared and Dom is surprised and feels self-conscious over the fact the merchant was scared of him. he looks over himself and his weapons and supposes he can understand why he might look scary. Corayne's clothes look old and threadbare, and she only carries an old dagger. Corayne says Dom's scowl could be handy on the road, and he asks if she expects trouble. Corayne says she doesn't suppose bandits will bother Dom much, and he asks if it's bc he's intimidating, and she nods. Dom tells us she has Cortael's eyes. Dom wonders why he doesn't intimidate a captain to sail them to Ascal rather than riding. Corayne says that, frightening as he may be, her mom is more feared in the water here. Dom realizes that Corayne is not used to riding on horseback and knows it'll make the trip even slower. Corayne says they'll take their chances in Lecorra, which is ten times larger than Lemarta, and Corayne isn't as known there. Sorasa says that she prefers horses to boats, startling Corayne as she emerges from the trees. Dom tells Sorasa that she doesn't have to come if it's "such an inconvenience." Sorasa said she learned long ago to not trust men's word, even that of immortal men, and since she has an investment in this she'll see it through since the deal was to Ascal. Dom knows Sorasa is a risk to have around, especially since she doesn't care for Corayne or the Ward, so it'd be better to leave her behind or kill her. they have a stare-off that ends with Dom saying "very well". Sorasa mounts a stallion and Dom says she'll lead. Dom promises to himself, the Ward, etc that Corayne will not suffer Cortael's fate. after a page break, it's nightfall and they're far enough inland that Dom can't hear the waves. Sorasa is a good travel companion. they eat while they ride, though Dom isn't hungry. eventually Corayne starts to droop from sleepiness, and Dom rides alongside her in case he needs to catch her, and Sorasa suggest they stop to rest themselves and the horses for the night. Dom doesn't want to stop, wants to push the horses through the night, and says that Corayne is resting now and that he doesn't intend to keep Sorasa upright, and Sorasa says that if he touches her she will cut off his hands. Dom says that mortals have a different sense of humor than immortals. Corayne is asleep in the saddle. again, Dom thinks about how much Corayne reminds him of Cortael, though thinking about Cortael hurts. Dom decides they'll stop before a hill and Sorasa says they should stop at the top of it so they don't get caught on low ground, and Dom says they won't get caught at all but also feels doubt in his conviction, though he reasons that Taristan and Ronin won't be looking all over for Corblood. Dom says he'll keep watch and Sorasa says that isn't a comfort to her. after another page break, we get more world-building description, this time of mountains. "The Corborn mortals of another realm had first come to Allward somewhere in this golden valley, stepping through a Spindle to build their empire." Sorasa sleeps upright and opens her eyes every twenty minutes to check on Dom. while Corayne and Sorasa sleep, Dom eats, "if only to pass the time". he eats a rabbit raw and Corayne asks if that'll make him sick, to which he says "We do not get sick." she says they don't sleep either and sits up, and Dom doesn't mind her curiosity. he says they don't sleep as much as mortals do. she points out they don't age and he says "after a fashion". he thinks about how they just live a long life, not that they're wholly immortal. "Death avoids us, but it is not a stranger."

Corayne says it's a good thing that there aren't more of them or his kind would conquer the world, and he says that's a very mortal impulse to have. Dom does know of immortals who dabbled with mortals, either for or against them, though it seems strange for his people nowadays. he says his people are more focused on finding their way home since the location of the last Spindle was destroyed and is now under the Long Sea. Corayne says his realm must be magnificent, and he says he supposes but he's Wardborn, young amongst his people, and what he knows of the old realm came from others. he says "They are whole while I am not," and Corayne says she supposes they have that in common, and he asks her what she means. she says she only knows about her dad and Corblood from what others have told her, and what they've told her is very little. Dom realizes Corayne is interrogating him. Dom knows the wound won't heal if he keeps prodding it, but he doesn't want to forget Cortael and does want to tell Corayne about him. here's a little more info on what it means to have Corblood. Corayne asks if immortals can bleed or love, since her dad had no love for her and someone must have taught him that, and Dom says that every creature in any realm can love. Dom says he loves her father like a son, was there for his first steps, tooth, word. he tells Corayne to go back to sleep. Dom smells smoke somewhere nearby, though it's not woodsmoke or a brush fire, but "the charring of flesh". Dom tells Corayne to get up and Sorasa to get the horses. Sorasa heads to the treeline but pauses, withdrawing her sword, and backs away from the forest as Dom moves in front of Corayne. Dom doesn't need to see to know what she saw, only wonders how many, and how Taristan could have found them. corpses weave up the hill. Dom knows they could run but they wouldn't make it far without the horses, still in the forest. Sorasa asks Dom if the corpses can be killed, and he says yes. Sorasa and Dom both attack, though the corpses do something different after being cut. the corpses Dom cuts, too, also disappear into smoke. the corpses flee. Dom waits for Taristan to appear, but he doesn't. Sorasa asks what that was and Dom doesn't know and opens his mouth to say so only to vomit.

chapter 10: in Corayne's POV, Corayne hears a voice that says "this is your fate" and "it does not wait". Corayne thinks she's dreaming again bc the corpses are what she sees in her dream. then she sees Sorasa and Dom and realizes it wasn't a dream. Sorasa instructs both Dom and Corayne how to calm down. Corayne wonders if that's what Dom fought at the temple. Dom says “They are of the Ashlands, a burned realm, cracked with Asunder, consumed by the hell of What Waits. They serve Him, and they serve your uncle, Taristan.” Sorasa assumes they didn't turn to smoke at the temple and Dom says they didn't. Dom says that these must have been a vision, or shades, or a projection of what can come from the Spindle, the work of Taristan's wizard or perhaps of What Waits, and that they must know Corayne lives and are searching for her. Corayne says they need to keep moving and starts collecting her things. Sorasa goes to collect the horses and Corayne tells Dom she dreamed of the corpses. she describes her dream, not just the corpses but a presence watching her, and Dom says it's What Waits. Sorasa says this is a Spindlerotten contract, but Corayne isn't concerned bc her mom says the same thing about missions and always goes on them anyway for the thrill of danger and risk and also a reward at the end of it. Corayne wonders who whispers to her and wonders if she'll die before she finds out. after a page break, they're on a ship and Corayne looks at Lecorra. Corayne feels her ancestors here. Corayne looks at all the ships in the harbor and wonders if her mom knows she's gone yet, if she'll turn back to find her. sailors prep the ship to take them to Ascal. Corayne realizes this is what freedom feels like, and Sorasa comments that she looks like a horse who jumped the pen. Corayne shrugs and says she wants to see Lecorra while she can. Corayne recognizes that Sorasa must be shaken by the corpses, too. Corayne asks if Sorasa has ever seen anything like them before, and Sorasa says she's seen many things that would terrify most people--monsters and men, but mostly men. Corayne says "so that's a no" and Sorasa says the Corayne is a long way from safe harbor with only farther to go. Corayne says that Sorasa is a long way from home, too. Sorasa says that Corayne should check on Dom. Corayne says she doesn't like the way Dom looks at her, bc he sees her dad, failure, and death. Sorasa says she supposes an Elder wouldn't be used to seeing those things. Corayne says she supposes he sees Taristan, too, and that she didn't know she looked so similar to them. Corayne says she belongs nowhere, and Sorasa says there are a lot of people like that, and that nowhere is still somewhere. Corayne says that's foolish, and Sorasa says that if people don't belong anywhere, perhaps those people belong to each other. Sorasa says she never knew her parents and only knows where they came from. Corayne asks if the Guild is Sorasa's family, and Sorasa's smirk turns cruel before she says they aren't. neither speaks again as the ship leaves harbor. Corayne doesn't pay the other passengers much attention, but Sorasa eyes them all. at dusk, Sorasa straightens at the sight of a Jydi passenger, an old woman who sells feathers, yellowed bones, and dried lavender, or charms and wishes, and Corayne says "no interest" in Jydi. the woman smiles wider as she comes closer and says "No price, no price. A gift from the ice" in Paramount. Sorasa moves between them and says "No need, grandmother," and tells the woman to return to her bench. Corayne says it's fine and accepts "a twist of blue-grey twigs" tied with twine and catgut and trailing beads that might be pearl or bone. the woman says "Gods bless you, Spindles keep you" and Sorasa takes the bundle, sniffs and licks it, then nods and says "Gods bless" to the woman. the woman leaves and Sorasa says it's not poisoned. Corayne asks if guard duty is part of Sorasa's contract, and Sorasa says she was paid to get Corayne to Ascal alive. Corayne says she hopes Sorasa charged a lot for the task and Sorasa says she did.

Corayne realizes the beads are human finger bones carved into skulls. after a page break, nearly a week has passed and Dom emerges from the cabin he was hiding in for the voyage. Corayne feels a little seasick by the end. Corayne gapes at the size of Ascal, which is larger than she thought a city could be. Corayne knows this was a Cor city once but isn't sure how she knows that, though Dom doesn't have an answer. Sorasa explains it was destroyed and rebuilt a dozen times, from Lascalla to Ascal, and is the great successor to Old Cor. she can't see the palace and assumes it must be deep within the city, walled and protected. Sorasa tells Corayne to brace herself for the smell. Sorasa explains Wayfarer's Port is where everyone journeying by water goes when in Ascal. Corayne asks where the palace is bc she doesn't suppose they can just walk up to the gates and ask to speak to a squire. Dom says he doesn't think they can, and Sorasa says that if anyone can it's an Elder prince. Dom says he didn't suffer a week below deck to be spotted now. Dom says that Taristan knows Andry escaped and could now be watching the palace and queen. Corayne says Taristan could have the sword already and all this would have been for nothing, and Dom tells her not to think like this. Corayne says she does and Dom says that the alternative is to accept the realm is doomed. Corayne remembers her dream and the corpses that attacked. Dom asks what Sorasa thinks they should do now, Sorasa says they should bribe a guard at the kitchen gate, and Dom asks for something less conspicuous. Corayne tells Dom he'll have to give Sorasa more money if he wants her to get him into the palace. Dom says he's paid enough and that they'll find their own way. Corayne says “Enjoy watching us blunder our way toward what could be the end of Allward, for the sake of your pride and few more coins to rub together while the realm crumbles" and Sorasa says "Well, when you put it that way" and starts away and Corayne pulls Dom after her, following her through the crowds. Sorasa tells them to keep up and calls Corayne a "meddling monkey" in her language. Sorasa is startled when Corayne translates it and asks if Corayne knows her language, and Corayne tells her not to worry bc she won't tell Dom what Sorasa called him. Dom says he doesn't care about a murderer's opinion. Corayne thinks he might care bc Sorasa called him a stupid, stubborn ass, though Corayne admits her translation could be wrong bc the words for "stupid" and "handsome" are similar.

chapter 11: back in Sorasa's POV, she doesn't want to still be there with Corayne and Dom, but finds herself doing so anyway. Corayne's words about Allward's end stick with her, as do the corpses they fought earlier. she's seen a lot of people die in a lot of ways and done so many times herself, but nothing has bothered her as much as the corpses. Sorasa knows how to get to the palace without being seen, since that's what Dom wants. Corayne gawks as they walk but people shout at Dom. Sorasa notes that the Galland port is a poor imitation of those in Ibal and Rhashir, which can hold much more than Galland. we get a lot of worldbuilding details. Corayne continues to gape while Dom glares and Sorasa agrees bc she doesn't think Ascal is all that great either. as they approach the palace--which is described in great detail but neither Sorasa nor Corayne like it--Dom notes that the bridge to it is too full of knights, and Sorasa says she doesn't intend to go across the bridge. Corayne points out that there must be a tunnel or something below them, and Sorasa says "yes" bc there used to be a colosseum and it had a lot of underground tunnels. after a page break, Corayne and Dom complain about the stink of the tunnels. Dom sees something in the tunnel, Corayne asks what it is while grabbing her knife (which Sorasa notes she clearly doesn't know how to use based on her grip), and Dom says "you'll see." they come across a gate and Sorasa says she has a trick that's large and annoying and turns to Dom, who sneers and spouts that she's the one who brought them to a locked gate, and she points out that it's a locked gate soon to be opened and remembers how he caught the bull in Byllskos.

chapter 12: back in Erida's POV, she tells us she knows why her "future husband" demands roses, and tells us how important roses are and how numerous they are in the palace. there's a feast being prepared and preparations for something that has yet to be named. tonight she's wearing red, "to please her future consort". Erida notes that her ladies are nervous, but she hasn't told her ladies who she's chosen to wed because she doesn't trust her ladies thanks to their backgrounds and families. only the council know who she's marrying and they've been sworn to secrecy, and appear to have kept that promise. Erida knows she chose the right man but still worries. Konegin finds her as she's walking. Konegin says he's glad to have found her before everything starts, and Erida talks about what's already begun (mostly drinking, it seems), and then Konegin says he wishes he could have seen more of her betrothed. Erida says that he spends most of his time in the archives. Konegin wonders if he's a student of history and Erida says that he wants to learn everything he can about Galland before the wedding. Konegin says he regrets swearing the oath to her father that Erida would choose her husband. Erida is angry but knows that punishing Konegin for speaking against her dad and therefore the crown and Erida herself would only bring bad things, since he's got more people loyal to him than Erida does. Erida says she knows Konegin thinks her choice is too lowborn but she chose for the right reasons. Konegin says he believes in flesh and blood, and Erida says she does too but points out that Konegin has never been in favor of any names presented for her to marry, no matter their wealth or standing. she tells him to present a suitor or accept who she has chosen. Konegin finally grinds out that his son is unwed, and Erida isn't surprised but knows she'd never marry him, though marrying him would keep him from ever taking the crown. Erida says he must have hundreds of women asking to marry him, and Konegin says he does, but he would marry Erida for the good of Galland. Erida enters the antechambers and says that it's good Konegin's son won't have to make such a sacrifice, then. her knights surround her and she tells Konegin to enjoy the feast.

chapter 13: in Corayne's POV now, they continue through the tunnels after Dom broke down the gate. they reach a staircase and Dom tells Sorasa to go first. Sorasa says that Andry would be in the east wing, as he's the son of a lady, and that it's not far. Sorasa says that Corayne needs to go first bc she can pass as a kitchen maid--though Corayne points out that she's not dressed like one, to which Sorasa says she's a young girl so no one will look twice. Corayne isn't sure she can do it, Dom starts to speak, and Sorasa cuts him off to tell Corayne that she's a ship's agent for one of the most notorious pirates and also that pirate's daughter, so she must have steel in her spine somewhere. they leave the staircase, walk through an undercroft of some sort, and stop at a staircase with a door at the top. Sorasa puts her ear to it, but Dom moves her out of the way bc he can hear better, and she says she's killed men for less, to which Dom says she's welcome to try. Dom says the room and passage beyond are empty, and a guard is making his rounds above them. he then says that the spying should be left to him from now on. Sorasa says she'll soon be gone, so long as Dom holds up his end of the bargain, and Dom says it'll be upheld. Sorasa opens the door, and as they walk Corayne starts to create a story in her mind about her kitchen maid status. at an archway, Dom says servants are beyond, so Corayne goes out with her story of being a kitchen maid. two maids are picking red roses and say they hope that Corayne has been sent to help. Corayne says she has a letter for Valeri Trelland, and one maid thinks she's dead, but the other maid says no, she's just sick. the maid points Corayne in the right direction. Dom and Sorasa are waiting for her. Dom and Corayne hesitate at the door, and Corayne wonders if they should knock. Dom turns to Sorasa and finds she's vanished, so Dom knocks and says he hopes the tunnels will collapse on her. Andry answers the door, and Corayne is surprised to find that the squire is a boy near her age, since she'd imagined a man. Corayne says "You're Andry Trelland" and he says yes, and she must be new to the palace, and then Dom steps into view and Andry catches the door bc he's surprised that Dom is alive but seems pleased. after a page break, Andry is holding Cortael's sword and Corayne stares at it. Andry and Dom finish their conversation and then Andry says the sword is Corayne's and holds it out to her. Valeri says that it sounds like Corayne will need the sword after she seems afraid to take it, and then Corayne takes it. Andry says that the Companions of the Realm live on, that their quest is simply unfinished. Dom says that's one perspective, since two of them live on, and Corayne says "There are three now" and Dom seems sad but says "Very well." Andry says more will join them soon, that he's told the queen and she's done nothing but now with Corayne and Dom she won't have a choice. Andry says he'll help, he swears it, after he brings his mother to Nkonabo. Dom says that Andry doesn't have to do that, but Andry says it's his duty bc his lord has fallen and he must avenge him. Corayne says he should stay with his mother and protect her, and Andry says he will, but he's a Companion and thus has a duty to fill. Valeri agrees and says they'll leave tonight. Valeri tells Andry he should go to the queen right now before everyone's too swept up in the festivites, and Andry explains the wedding when Corayne asks what's going on. Corayne says that the quest certainly takes precedence, and maybe the queen will use it as an excuse to delay the wedding if she's reluctant to get married, and Andry grins at Corayne and says that might work. Corayne says the queen will listen as Dom's queen did not, and Dom says that mortals are hot-blooded and prone to quick anger, which has been a bane these past centuries but might be a boon now. Corayne thinks about how Dom seems like a pot set to a low boil all the time, but says that she doesn't know how she's going to carry the sword (it's more than half her length in

height).

chapter 14: Ridha's POV begins with her riding hard and cursing Sirandel in many languages. evidently, the Sirandel monarch said he wouldn't be joining Ridha since her mother is wise and they'll follow her guidance. she regrets sending Dom off alone bc he's probably not clear-headed after what happened in the prologue. as Ridha rides, a figure appears and she knows it's her mother. she tells Ridha to come home, since the Sirandels have refused and the others will too. Ridha won't bc the Sirandels are only one group of immortals in the Ward. she knows the Spindle isn't far from where she is and wonders if Taristan is still there. after a page break, the Castlewood ends sooner than Ridha was expecting and she can hear mills nearby, processing the trees that were cut down. once, the Castlewood had been full of Spindles. Ridha won't ride her horse to death bc it's unlikely she'd find another sand mare and Gallish ponies are slow and fat. Ridha stops at an inn and gives a silver coin to the two children who come out to stable her horse, and then goes inside and rents a room for the night. she leaves her belongings in the room, but keeps a dagger and her jewelry, and then finds herself going back downstairs to the common room where she orders an ale and a meal. she thinks about where she should go next while she eats. Ridha overhears a conversation between two men about Queen Erida's wedding, though they wonder who she's marrying, and then think that Ridha might know who the queen is marrying. one of the men asks Ridha if she knows who the queen is marrying, and she says "I beg your pardon?" and they repeat the question and she asks which queen, and one of the men is surprised there's more than one queen but the other says Queen Erida, and Ridha says she doesn't know much about her. both men scoff bc Erida has been queen for four years now. the barmaid comes out to clear the table and draw the men's attention away from Ridha while she clears plates. Ridha feels off-balance bc she, too, is a princess and her people, too, need heirs. she thinks her mom won't force her to marry who she doesn't want to, and then wonders if that's true, and then gets angry over Sirandel again. the men start talking about someone else, and that that someone else named Old Joe/Joeld says that the Watchful Sea (the sea north of Galland) has been quiet, no raiders of any kind. the men say that if the Jydi raiders aren't raiding, someone else could do it and make it look like raiders: raiders blamed, they "come home rich". Ridha asks if Old Joe knows why there haven't been any raiders, and they say no. one asks why it matters to her, and she says that if the Jydi, strong fighters as they are, aren't raiding, there must be a reason. the Jydi haven't forgotten Vederans/Elders bc their riches are too tempting. Ridha herself had fought Jydi raiders before. Ridha returns to her room, and past midnight the two men try to rob her, but she tosses them out the window. the innkeeper and his wife try to rob her next, though the wife seems reluctant. she lets the innkeeper's axe glance off her armor, then warns him against robbing travelers in his inn, especially women. she tosses him out the closed window so the glass shatters. the next morning, her sand mare Nirez is well taken care of and Ridha sets out to ride north to Jydi.

chapter 15: in Corayne's POV, a bell tolls and Dom falters, clearly remembering the tolling bell in the Spindle. Andry says he's fine. Corayne wears the sword across her back since it's too long to sit at her hip. she hides it under her cloak. the guards know Andry and nod at him as they pass. at the end of a long hall, Andry opens a door into the queen's feast and waves Corayne in, saying the queen will listen. Dom follows, drawing eyes for his size and appearance. the queen is on a dais with a dozen other people. Corayne expects the queen to be "easy prey" and look like the wealth of Galland. instead, she's young and pretty. the queen notices Corayne, Dom, and Andry, and then stands up and tells her knights to let them pass. Andry bows. the queen says she's glad to see Andry feasting with them after so long in mourning, and wonders if his mom will join them. he says his mother still isn't well enough to join them, but says the queen would do well to hear what they have to say, and clarifies in private. Konegin says that Erida can't just leave a betrothal feast, especially since her betrothed hasn't even arrived yet, and Erida says it can wait a few minutes bc she trusts Andry. Corayne finally blurts that this is important, that Galland and the entire realm depend on her, and Erida looks at Andry, then says all right and leads them away.

six knights flank Erida and she ignores the murmuring from the hall. Erida leads them to a private room and the guards don't stay after Erida waves them off with a pointed glance at the door. Erida says she's already heard this story twice from Andry so she might as well hear it from Corayne and Dom. Dom speaks first, telling her who he is and what happened, and says he hopes it's not too late to stop Taristan. Erida nods at Dom, then looks to Corayne and asks if she survived as well. Corayne says she wasn't there, privately wishes she could give the Spindleblade to anyone else, and then tells the queen that her dad was at the Spindle, and he's Cortael. the queen looks Corayne over, eyes widening, and Corayne wonders if Erida can see "the Spindle in" her. Erida says that it's Corayne and her blood that can fix this, and Corayne says yes. Erida says that Taristan has an army and she doubts the three of them can face it alone. Corayne says they can't, that she's only seen shadows of the army but they were enough. Erida says that it depends on her, then, her armies and blood, and Dom says "It does". Corayne says that, if it helps, a war could stop or delay a wedding, and Erida smiles and says if only that were the case. she apologizes to Andry for doubting him and not acting sooner. she says before she couldn't believe it, that lying to the court seemed safer, but with the three of them there and trails off. Corayne sees the girl behind the crown falter. Erida says she sees the truth of Andry's words now, and he says thank you. she claps her hands, the knights outside the door open it, and she says "Well, let's get on with it" and leads the way out. Corayne feels "hopeful—optimistic, even," as she has a queen on her side and Dom there to protect her. Erida falls into step beside Corayne and says "So, Spindleblood. A descendant of Old Cor." Corayne says "don't remind me," which causes Erida to laugh, and Erida says, “We don’t choose what we’re born to, Corayne," and “We can only walk the path put in front of us.” Corayne says she's not sure why her path had to include the end of the world, and Erida says that at least they're walking it together. she says she believes in Corayne, and supposes it's her eyes, something in her ancestry and legacy. Corayne says she wouldn't know, and Erida adds that it could also be the Spindleblood, and looks at Corayne's hip, then her back and the cloak, and has a "knowing smile". she asks Corayne to confirm she has it, and Corayne does so.

back in the chamber where they're holding the feast, Erida climbs onto the dais, and here's an excerpt of Erida's part in this scene. during Erida's speech, Andry seems nervous, sweat on his upper lip and shallow breaths, so Corayne tells him it will be all right, and that no one will blame him for leaving to take his mother to Nkonabo. Andry says he thought he heard Erida ask Corayne about the Spindleblade. Corayne says yes, and Andry grips her hand, eyes never leaving Erida, and says he never told Erida about the Spindleblade with terror on his face. terror strikes Corayne next, and then Dom grips her shoulder and displays the same. the knights tighten their formation around Corayne, Dom, and Andry. the queen basks in the attention of her court and two silhouettes appear beyond Erida on the dais. a knight stabs Dom in the side with a dagger, and Corayne wants to scream but a knight presses a dagger to her ribs and orders her to keep quiet. then Taristan walks out, as explained in the excerpt above, to be revealed as Erida's betrothed. the court applauds and Corayne stares at him. Taristan barely acknowledges the court, simply gives them a nod, before looking directly at Dom, Corayne, and Andry. Corayne notes their eyes are the same, but his have something else in them, and realizes it's What Waits, staring out of Taristan's eyes. beside him is Ronin, though Corayne calls him Red (she doesn't know his name Ronin), and he's skeletal with white skin, blond hair, and "pale red eyes ringed with pink flesh". he opens his mouth and inhales, and Corayne feels "a clawing heat pull over her, prodding at her exposed skin." she's frozen in place, thinks that Red/Ronin is ready to eat her whole. Taristan goes down the table on the dais with one hand extended, pleased with everyone greeting him, kissing his knuckles or touching his fingers, "pledging allegiance, paying fealty, congratulating him on the good match." it's only Konegin who hesitates but he does take Taristan's hand. Taristan, however, doesn't look away from Corayne. she can barely breathe and trembles, and he stops before her to stare down at her menacingly. Erida watches, head held high, clearly no fear or regret in her over the man she chose to marry. Taristan tears off Corayne's cloak. Corayne tries to back away but the dagger the knight holds digs into her, and so she tells Taristan to get away from her. Dom says he'll kill Taristan. Taristan muses that Dom is so eager to repeat his mistakes. he then grabs Corayne's neck, his back to the rest of the court, so it won't look like he's threatening anyone or the knights are stabbing anyone. Taristan asks Dom if he should kill Corayne in front of him, too. Corayne wants to spit at him or struggle but finds her mouth dry and her mind empty of options, since there's no preparing for this kind of situation. she tells Taristan to get away, hands balling into fists, but Red/Ronin's magic is washing over her. Taristan shakes his head, keeps his hold on Corayne's throat, and reaches for the Spindleblade, saying it doesn't belong to her. she feels something break in her, "snapping clean," and feels a rush of cold push away the heat (idk what heat), and she reaches into her pocket for the Jydi charm she got on the ship, even though she doesn't know why she's reaching for it. she looks into Taristan's eyes and sees "flecks of crimson in them, scattered like blood around the iris," but he's not looking at her but at the sword as he slowly pulls it from the sheath, mouth moving around soundless words as he reads the runes on the blade. Corayne drags the Jydi charm with its branches down Taristan's face, he howls and leaps back while the sword slips back into its sheath, and Corayne expects to be stabbed, but instead the knight with the dagger against her ribs cries out as a golden gorget covers his throat. Dom and Andry leap into action, creating a "a hole in the Queen’s guard, even while the hall exploded in confusion and chaos." the queen shouts, Taristan fights to his feet, Red/Ronin sweeps across the dais, and Corayne nearly

faints but then someone grabs her and shouts at her to run, the voice familiar. Corayne starts to flee, and someone shoves her through the door at the side of the dais, though Corayne thinks there's no point running with the sheer number of guards. then one of the chandeliers crashes to the ground, crushing a few armored men. then all the chandeliers fall in a wave, one even landing on the dais and crushing the table. Corayne pauses to look for a sign that Erida was crushed, but Andry yanks her onward. Sorasa is last through the door and bars it behind them, and then looks over all three of them with a dagger dripping blood in hand before wondering if she has to do everything around here.

chapter 16: we're in Sorasa's POV now as she leaves the palace (we're apparently jumping a bit back in time, to after she leaves Dom and Corayne outside Andry's rooms), paid well by Dom. she sneaks into an apartment to change clothes even as she tries to forget the night the corpses attacked her, Dom, and Corayne. she tells herself that saving the world isn't her business as an assassin. she dresses in a gown, though she keeps her leather leggings and boots, hidden beneath the skirts. she knows she can pass as a lady's maid with her hair down. it's curiosity that leads Sorasa through the palace in a winding way toward the great hall where the feast is taking place. she's surprised by how easy it is to go through the palace unacknowledged, and figures that's why the Amhara assassins are often women. Sorasa looks into the great hall and notes how easy it would be to kill Erida up there on the dais. she walks to a gallery above the great hall. Sorasa wonders if Mercury knows who the queen is marrying. Sorasa thinks about how the leash Mercury has on her (and all assassins) chafes, even as she enjoys his favor, and loves and hates his attention. on the balcony opposite Sorasa's own, she sees two people and we get more description of Taristan and Red/Ronin. Sorasa recognizes Red/Ronin as a dedicant of Syrek, the god of destruction and creation, conquest and peace, a patron of Galland. neither notice Sorasa, but she feels icy dread looking at them. she tries to figure out who Red/Ronin is and what his purpose here is, considering the possibility he's another assassin from Amhara or perhaps another guild, or perhaps he's a spy, or even just a simple cutthroat. Sorasa watches Dom, Andry, and Corayne approach the queen, though she can't hear them. Sorasa wants Corayne and Dom to tell the queen about the corpses they fought and about Dom's scars, and then the man we know is Taristan but Sorasa doesn't says "Domacridhan", angrily. everything in Sorasa tells her to run. Taristan tells Ronin to look at Dom's face bc he thought Elders were supposed to heal, and Ronin says they do when cut with weapons of the Ward, but the Spindleblade, and weapons blessed by What Waits, are different and are why the Elders fear them and hide. Sorasa prepares to run. Taristan says that Corayne looks like him, like his brother, and Sorasa is glad that Dom is at least with her, since six knights against an Elder are nothing, and he's survived worse, and then Sorasa wonders what if he doesn't succeed, bc then Andry and Corayne will be easily killed, and the Ward doomed. Taristan says, "I must say, I'm still shocked she agreed to this." Sorasa thinks about how she can escape. Ronin says, "Ambition is in her blood." Ronin then says that it's good they found her "before the other could" and Taristan says it was a choice they didn't need to make bc "the witch" isn't with his niece. Ronin says, “Even so, we have a strong ally in the Queen of Galland. Corayne of Old Cor will be dead soon, and of no consequence any longer.” Sorasa takes her chance and looks around the pillar she's hiding behind and sees Taristan, and thinks that Corayne does look like him. Taristan says that if Corayne has his brother's blade, they just need to take it and lock her away, and Ronin says that dying now is a mercy rather than waiting for What Waits, and then says they should let the Elder live and watch. they laugh and Sorasa thinks she should run again, and gives herself five seconds of fear and indecision:

Her breath hissed through her nose, coming out hard between her teeth. One. Taristan was the Queen’s chosen. Two. Her army would protect his Spindle, the passage spewing a sea of corpses. Three. No kingdom could stand against Taristan and Erida, not alone. Four. Sorasa Sarn was no one. There was nothing she could do about the great dealings of the world. Five.

she walks to the edge of the gallery, where she can see the door that Erida led Corayne and co through. she cuts a square of cloth from her dress, and only her black powder remains after she used her "common powders" in Byllskos. she pours it onto the center of the square of cloth from the dress, makes a pouch, and ties the corners tightly but leaves one length of cloth free. below, Erida, Corayne, Dom, and Andry return, and Erida gives her speech. Sorasa uses her flint and steel to light the corner of the fabric containing the black powder. Sorasa throws the pouch with the powder at the chain holding the chandeliers. as Taristan enters, Sorasa wants the powder to do its job now, prays to ever deity she can think of to make the powder do its job now, but it doesn't. at the bottom of the stairs up to the gallery, she slows and grabs a flagon of wine to blend in, moving toward the dais. Sorasa takes note of Corayne and Dom, recognizing Dom is in a lot of pain. Taristan approaches Corayne. Corayne slashes Taristan's face with the Jydi charm. Sorasa attacks the first Lionguard, and then stabs the knight who has the dagger against Corayne's ribs. Sorasa tells Corayne to run. the powder finally explodes and the chandeliers begin to fall. the four (Sorasa, Andry, Corayne, and Dom) escape through the door by the dais as chaos overtakes the great hall. the dagger is still in Dom's side, and Andry tears off some cloth from his coat to hold to the wound. the door is already being pounded on. Sorasa asks Dom if he can run. he says it's nothing, that the Vedera heal quickly, and then pulls the dagger free even as Sorasa snaps at him not to. blood pours freely and Dom says "oh" and falls, though Corayne catches him. Sorasa says she can't believe being alive for 1,000 years and still being so stupid, and Dom says 500, and she says regardless, he's still bleeding to death. Sorasa grabs any cloth she can to shove into the wound to staunch the bleeding. Sorasa asks if he has any more brilliant ideas, and he abruptly stands over her, shirtless, and says "run". Sorasa says there's no way out, that she can get herself out but not the rest of them. Corayne snaps "well that's helpful" and the door continues to be pounded on. Andry approaches the window and looks out at the hedge maze beyond, and says they should try Syrekom. Sorasa scoffs "the cathedral?" and points out that claiming sanctuary only works in stories, not real life. there are few guards outside, and none in the hedge maze. Andry repeats "Syrekom" and says he can take them through the maze and hopes they can all swim. Sorasa eyes Dom, whose breaths come in "short, beleaguered gasps", and he says he learned to swim before her bloodline began and leads the way "with a stormy glare and a furious pace". he then kicks a door open, leaving it dangling on its hinges, and Sorasa thinks that maybe he'll drown, and to her it's a half-wish.

#kat reads r breaker #spoilers #r breaker recap

19 notes · View notes

jewish-space-laser · 4 years

Text

Miles & Black Coffee - Part One

“When you’re on a golden sea, You don’t need no memory, Just a place to call your own, As we drift into the zone...”

-Island in the Sun by Weezer

Hello, and welcome to part one of M&BC! She’s split up into parts, a day late, and a bit rusty... but she’s here! It’ll be my first new piece of writing since I rejoined tumblr, so it’s a bit nerve-wracking. Thank you to Kate @andwhenshesays, Anne @oh-honey-styles, and Anna @for-fucks-sake-h for organizing this entire challenge, you’ve brought so much joy to our little tumblr community. We love you all dearly ♥️ (4.5k words)

xoxoxox Tile

Warnings: mild drinking, mild drug use (just weed)

You and Harry would never be friends. You were up and down, night and day, oil and water. You just didn’t mesh. He was your roommate’s insufferable older brother, and that is all he would ever be. Well, at least that’s what you thought before….

the one with campfire conversations, cabin getaways, and enemies that were never really enemies after all.

MONDAY

Pine trees and cornfields flew by in a blur as you stared out the window of your roommate’s minivan. Every once in a while, there’d be a pasture of cows or a horse ranch. It had been exciting at first, but now you were just bored.

“How much longer?” You called over the music, trying to keep the whine from your voice. It had been hours since you left your apartment this morning, and you’d only stopped once to stretch your legs and take a bathroom break.

“The GPS says we still have an hour and a half to go,” Callie groaned, stepping a bit harder on the gas pedal.

Normally, you loved road trips, but this particular drive was more cramped than you’d bargained for. There were seven girls packed into the van, and you’d been unfortunate enough to get squished into the backseat with your twin sister and her girlfriend, who hadn’t stopped with the obnoxious PDA since the car got on the freeway.

You took a deep breath and closed your eyes, trying to will away your nauseating carsickness. This week had been marked into your calendar for months, and you’d be damned if you let this god-awful car ride ruin it for you.

Callie, your college roommate, had a cabin in northern Wisconsin that she’d been raving about for years. She’d been going there with her family for decades, every summer since pre-school, she’d said. According to her, it was a beautiful property, equipped with a private lakeside beach, fire pit, and a full bar.

It was going to be the perfect getaway. You and Callie had rounded up all of your girlfriends, packed all of the essentials for a spa night, junk food, board games, movies. You’d packed four swimsuits just in case; the weather forecast looked fantastic, high seventies and low eighties all week long.

It was going to be the perfect vacation. Well, almost perfect.

Harry was going to be there.

Harry, the constant thorn in your side. Harry, Callie’s older brother. Harry, the one who eats all of your food whenever he visits. Harry, the one who constantly picked fights with you. You and him had never gotten along, not even for a second.

There wasn’t a single person alive who got on your nerves more than he did. Generally, you got along with most people, but Harry was the exception to the rule. You couldn’t seem to shake him off.

You weren’t about to let him ruin this trip, though. There were going to be fourteen people staying at the cabin, so it should be a piece of cake to avoid him for a week; there were plenty of other people to interact with. And even if you couldn’t avoid him, you were going to let his inevitable snarky comments roll off of your back. Well, you’d try to, at least.

Perhaps that’s what annoyed you most about him, the reaction you’d have from the smallest fight. With anyone else, it was water under the bridge… with Harry, you thought about it for days afterwards, thinking of better comebacks you should’ve said or ways you could have changed your schedule to steer clear of him altogether. He made your skin prickle with irritation, and turned you into somebody you didn’t like very much.

It had been months since you’d seen him, not that you’d been keeping track. He typically visits Callie a few times a semester, but his senior year was more intense than he had anticipated, according to his sister. He just couldn’t spare the two hour drive from his university to yours.

But now it was summertime. Gone were the papers, projects, and responsibilities… it was finally time to relax and have fun. You only had one year of college left before graduation, so you and your friends wanted to make the most of it. Harry and his friends had just graduated, so they were at the cabin for their last hurrah before real life kicked in.

If you were being honest with yourself, you were excited that Harry was bringing some of his frat brothers along. You and your ex had just ended things recently, and you were finally feeling ready to get back into the dating game. Being trapped in a cabin with a handful of cute guys felt like a dream.

Finally, after what felt like centuries, Callie slowed the car down and turned onto a dirt road. The other girls in the car started desperately peering out the window to get a glimpse of the lake and surrounding forest.

The moment the cabin came into view, your jaw dropped. You knew Callie’s parents were loaded, but this hardly looked like the rustic getaway you were expecting. There were three buildings, each labelled with a birch bark sign. Two speedboats and a pontoon were docked at the beach, inflatable tubes and paddleboards littered around the sand nearby.

It wasn’t until Callie parked and shut off the engine that you heard a heavy bass thrum coming from the building marked MAIN CABIN. The other two buildings were labelled GUEST CABIN and SHOWER HOUSE. You were snapped out of it when Olivia and Jane, who had been sitting in the middle bucket seats, swung their sliding doors open and practically fell onto the ground.

“I don’t think I remember how to walk normally,” Charlie, a girl from your art history class, groaned, “like, we were sitting in that car for so long….”

“Oh, shush,” your sister, Morgan, scoffed, “at least you got to sit up front. I was crammed into the back between these two.”

Both you and her girlfriend, Isobel, huffed in protest, but it wasn’t worth picking a fight over. You’d have plenty of time to bicker later. For now, the fresh air and cool breeze were like heaven after a long road trip.

“The boys beat us here,” Callie remarked.

Sure enough, there were two other cars already parked in the driveway. Back behind the main cabin, a plume of smoke rose into the air. You could hear loud laughter, loud enough to drown out the trap music they had playing.

“They’ve started a bonfire!” Olivia squealed, clasping her hands in front of her chest. “I’m ready to get partying… it’s four in the afternoon and I’ve spent all day in a car. I need a drink.”

A few others were laughing and nodding in agreement, already making their way towards the boys, but you hung back. You’d party later, but after spending an entire day stuck with six other people, you just wanted to be alone. Plus, you wanted to drink tonight, and you’d never get around to unpacking your bag if you were wasted.

You managed to dig your duffel bag out from the pile of luggage in the trunk, letting it fall to the ground with a thump. Callie had just been finishing up with a phone call when you looked up.

“Hey, you’re not joining the others?” She asked. “I was about to head over, they’ve got a fire going. Just had to call my mum to let her know we made it.”

“I’ll join in a bit,” you promised “but I want to unpack my things first… where are we all staying?”

“You’re in the main cabin, I have you sharing a room with Charlie, is that okay?” She questioned. You nodded quickly, relief flooding over you. You liked all of the girls who came on the trip, but Charlie was by far the easiest to get along with. “Harry and I each have our own room in the main cabin, too, so you won’t be alone. Everyone else is in the guest cabin, though.”

“The guest cabin,” you giggled, slinging your bag over your shoulder as Callie lead you into the main building, “this place is swanky, Cal.”

“We host all of our family reunions here,” she shrugged, “we need lots of space. Plus it’s fun for occasions like this… we’re just lucky my dad is letting us use the boats. He treats those things like they’re his own children, only Harry is allowed to drive them this week.”

You made a face at the mention of her brother. “I’ll be staying far away from the boats, then.”

“Oh god,” Callie groaned, “I know you two don’t get along very well, but please try to be civil… we’re here for a whole week, after all.”

“I’m always civil,” you protested innocently, ��it’s him you need to worry about.”

“Always civil,” she scoffed, “we both know that’s not true, but I’ll let it slide.”

Okay, so maybe you had a slight temper when it came to Harry, but nine times out of ten, he was the one who started the argument. You were never the type to actively seek out conflict, but Harry seemed to thrive off of it. Whether it was eating all the food from your half of the fridge, throwing his dark blue t-shirt in with your load of whites, or playing his guitar in your living room until three in the morning when you had a test the next day… it felt like he was out to get you.

And he was never apologetic. Of course not. He probably got off on watching steam blow from your ears.

You took a deep breath as Callie led you up a wooden staircase, trying not to let yourself get worked up. The cabin was gorgeous from what you’d seen on the main floor. Though you hadn’t lingered, you’d noticed that there was a bookshelf that took up an entire wall, packed to the brim with books with faded spines, vinyl records with worn edges, and an assortment of candles and bookends sprinkled throughout randomly. You couldn’t wait to explore the entire property.

Photographs lined the walls of every hallway, snapshots of Harry and Callie running around as kids. There was a hilarious picture of a young Harry crying as he held a fishing pole, a bare hook dangling from the line. The Styles family clearly had a great sense of humor. You made a mental note to take a photo of it on your phone later; it would be perfect ammo for the next fight that Harry would inevitably start.

“This is the bathroom…” she drawled, “no shower though. We all just use the shower house, which isn’t really as bad as it sounds. Just make sure you bring clothes with you, otherwise you’ll have to walk across the lawn in just your towel.”

You grimaced at the thought. As she continued to lead you down the hall, you saw two doors, one with CALLIE’S ROOM written in bright pink bubble letters, and the second with a wooden plaque, the word HARRY written in what was clearly a child’s handwriting.

“This is technically my parents’ room, but we use it as a guest room if it’s just us kids,” Callie explained, stopping at the last door in the hallway, “they have a king bed, so I figured you and Charlie could just share.”

“That’s fine,” you assured her, not hesitating to drop your heavy duffel onto the side of the bed closest to the window, “this place is awesome, Callie.”

“Right?” She grinned. “I’m stoked for the week, it’s gonna be so fun.”

“You should go down to the bonfire,” you told her, placing a hand on your bag, “I’ll come join as soon as I’m done.”

Luckily, your roommate of two years understood that you needed alone time sometimes, so she left you without protest.

This was exactly the recharge time that you needed. You were the kind of person who loved being around friends, but there was only so much socializing you could handle before you needed a break to be on your own. Even though you hadn’t spoken much on the ride to the cabin, being squished into a mini-van with six other girls drained your social battery. Giving yourself a moment to breathe and relax was necessary if you were going to rejoin the group.

Pressing the shuffle play button on your spotify, you smiled when the soft melody of your favorite folk song thrummed through your headphones. You swayed from side-to-side as you unzipped your bag, which had been packed to perfection.

Four swimsuits, a different outfit for each day (plus a few extra items… overpacking is better than underpacking), sunscreen, bug spray, all of your toiletries. It was fun to organize everything into the empty wardrobe by the window; looking at all of your stuff just made you more excited to be here.

Time flew by as you danced around the room. Most of your things were put away, and you’d stashed your empty bag under the bed. The one thing you hadn’t put away yet was your assortment of swimsuits. It had been difficult picking out which ones you wanted to bring, but you’d settled on three bikinis and a one-piece with the sides cut out. You were itching to change out of your leggings and t-shirt; they felt gross against your skin after sitting in the van all day.

Just as you went to pick up your navy blue sequined bikini top, a hand abruptly clamped down on your shoulder.

“Holy shit!” You spun around on your heels, hand flying to cover your beating heart. You were less than pleased to find Harry standing there, wide-eyed and trying to mask his amusement by biting down on his lip.

“Didn’t mean to sneak up on you,” he chuckled, “forgot how jumpy you are.”

“I’m not jumpy,” you frowned, pulling your headphones out of your ears and crossing your arms over your stomach, “what are you doing in here?”

“Nice to see you too,” he scoffed, dimple indenting into his cheek, “I was just using the loo, then I was gonna go back to the party, where we’re having fun. Foreign concept to you, I’m sure.”

You rolled your eyes, turning around so he couldn’t see how hard you were scowling. He always knew just what to say to get your blood boiling.

“Are you implying that I don’t know how to have fun, Harry?” You asked sarcastically.

“Ah, I knew you were smarter than you looked,” he grinned. “Cute swim top.”

It was only then that you noticed his attire. Well, lack of attire. He was wearing the smallest swimming shorts you’d ever seen, his chest tanned from the sun and completely bare apart from a single cross necklace that hung over his sternum. His hair had grown out since the last time you saw him, and it looked a bit ridiculous with his sunglasses on top of his head.

He looked good, not that you’d ever admit it. Luckily, you were fantastic at masking your wandering eyes; he had a tendency of walking around your apartment in his boxers during visits, so you’d had plenty of practice.

“Shut up,” you groaned, throwing the bikini top back onto the bed. You’d been planning on wearing that one, but Harry ruined it with his gross comment, just like he ruins most things for you.

“I’m quite incapable of shutting up,” he mused, throwing himself down onto your side of the bed, “you should know this by now.”

“Trust me,” you were completely unamused, still standing with your arms crossed over your stomach, “I’m well aware.”

“You should come join the party,” he continued speaking as if you hadn’t said anything, seemingly unfazed by how visibly irritated you were, “it’s the first day and you’re already being a buzzkill. Maybe you should try like… try stepping out of your comfort zone, just for the week.”

“Thank you so much for that lovely unsolicited advice,” you said sarcastically, “now if we’re talking about comfort zones, you laying on my bed is definitely out of mine.”

“Please, you love me on your bed,” he smirked, closing his eyes, “this is a dream come true for you.”

“Are you delusional?” You were running out of patience. “Did you hit your head?”

“Why?” He said innocently. “Are you thinking about playing nurse? Because I hate to break your heart, but I’m not into wet blankets. Maybe if you loosened up a bit.”

If he wasn’t gone in thirty seconds, you were going to scream. He seemed to be enjoying himself, arms crossed behind his head with a twinkle in his eye as you stared daggers at him.

“Are you quite done?” You spit. “I can feel my IQ dropping every time you speak. Plus, I need to change before I come down.”

“Ooh, can I watch?” He waggled his eyebrows.

That was it. “Harry, get out, okay?”

“Jeez, okay, fine,” he grumbled, rolling clumsily off of the bed, “so bossy, you are.”

You pointed a finger towards the door, leveling him with the steeliest glare you could muster. “Out,” you repeated.

“You should come down sooner rather than later,” he said, completely unbothered, “I’m sure you’ll be much nicer once you’ve had a drink or two.”

He was gone before you could think of a response. The annoyance bubbling inside you was so intense, you felt like you wanted to break something. Instead, you punched your pillow a few times to release some tension, taking a deep breath to compose yourself after.

You wrinkled your nose at the blue bikini top, choosing to wear an orange floral patterned one instead. You’d never give Harry the satisfaction.

~~~

The fire was absolutely roaring.

It was perfect. The fire pit was lined with wooden logs, the tops shaved off to make benches. There was hardly enough space for all fourteen of you, but you managed to squeeze in as you all roasted corn and hot dogs over the fire. It wasn’t too windy, so you didn’t have to worry about smoke blowing into your eyes, but the bugs were relentless.

The air around you smelled of smoke, bug spray, and good food. There were a few different conversations happening, and every once in a while, a few people would break out into loud, contagious laughter.

Harry had tried to talk to you when you came down, but you’d avoided him like the plague. You had absolutely nothing nice to say to him after his snarky comments in your room, and any further interaction with him at this point would just end in disaster. Thankfully, he was quickly distracted by some of his frat brothers, and he hadn’t tried to approach you again all night.

Now, you were chatting with Olivia and one of the boys, Luke. By the time you’d gone down to the bonfire, everyone was several drinks in. You’d been forced to play catch-up by way of tequila shots, so you had a pleasant buzz running through your veins.

“This is a perfect summer night,” you sighed happily, pulling your skewer from the flames to keep your corn from burning.

“Almost perfect,” a boy named Archie corrected, “we haven’t been out on the lake yet.”

Harry and three of the other boys had arrived a night early to get the boats ready, and now that Archie mentioned it, the pontoon was looking mighty tempting. The sun hadn’t fully set, but dusk was beginning to settle in, blanketing the forest with pink and orange hues, a gorgeous reflection of the sunset above you. It was the perfect time to go out on the water.

“How do we feel about the pontoon?” You wondered out loud. There was no way you’d all fit, but you could go in groups.

“It’s too buggy to be on the water,” Callie wrinkled her nose, “I’m getting eaten alive as it is.”

“I’m down, as long as I can smoke a spliff while we’re out there,” James, one of the other boys, shrugged, “obviously I’ll share, I brought tons.”

A few others around the circle chimed in with their interest, and before you knew it, people were standing up to make their way over to the docks. You weren’t the best with names, but much to your relief, you’d introduced yourself to everyone going on the boat. Obviously, you already knew Morgan and Isobel, and were somewhat friendly with Jane, Archie, and James.

“I’ll come along, too,” a voice behind you yawned. When you turned around, you immediately felt yourself melt. Ryan, a boy you’d had a single class with freshman year, was stretching his arms out as he stood up, and he was looking directly at you with a flirtatious smile.

You’d had a major crush on him for the entirety of your class together, but you’d been too shy to say anything to him. He was a whole year older, after all, and that had been intimidating when you were eighteen.

You returned his smile, biting down on your bottom lip shyly.

“I guess I’m going too, then,” Harry sighed, shoving the last of his hot dog into his mouth before dusting his hands off.

Immediately, your face dropped. Harry snorted when he saw your expression, digging around the pocket in his swimsuit to retrieve a key.

“I’m the only one allowed to drive the boats, remember? Dad made me promise.”

Your shoulders slumped. You’d completely forgotten that Callie had mentioned it to you earlier. You weren’t about to turn down a sunset boat ride though, especially now that Ryan was coming along as well.

Everyone scarfed down the rest of their food in a rush as Harry went over to untie the boat and make sure it was good to go. You watched as he leaned far over the edge of the dock, so far that nearly fell face-first into the water before righting himself and trying again..

“Hey,” Ryan had walked next to you, following your line of sight, “he’s gonna fall in, isn’t he?”

“I hope so,” you giggled.

“You were in my History 204 class, weren’t you? Sophomore year?” He asked.

Your entire body flushed. You didn’t think he’d noticed you at all, let alone enough to remember you years later. Having Ryan up at the cabin, talking to you, felt like a dream come true.

“I was a freshman, but yeah, I think so,” you nodded nonchalantly, “I hated that professor.”

“Oh god, same!” He laughed, shaking his head, “such a drag, just constant pop quizzes!”

“Ugh, yes!” You turned your body towards him fully. “And that midterm assignment….”

“Don’t even get me started,” Ryan pretended to shiver in fear.

You laughed loudly, and from the corner of your eye you saw Harry turn to glance in your direction. Upon a closer look, he’d managed to wrangle the boat so it was right up against the dock.

“All aboard!” He shouted.

You rolled your eyes at his ridiculous antics. He always thought he was so funny, especially when you were the butt of his jokes. You hoped he’d be too busy driving to bother you.

Luckily, Ryan seemed keen to stay by your side, even helping you step into the boat by taking your hand to keep you balanced, so Harry didn’t have much of a chance to say anything. By the time the boat was moving, everyone was sitting in a circle on the floor, clipping in the life jackets that Callie had forced us all to wear.

As soon as the wind blew through your hair, you tilted your head up and closed your eyes. Lakes didn’t smell great, but you’d always loved it. It was classic, nostalgic. You’d spent every summer of your life swimming in Midwest lakes, so it felt just like summer.

James was true to his word, and pulled out four fatly rolled joints, passing them around with a lighter. You didn’t do this often, but it felt like the perfect moment. The sun was disappearing fast, and soon enough you’d be able to see the stars.

At some point, Harry slowed the engine down to a gentle hum when the boat reached the middle of the lake, getting a couple of the others to help him throw the anchor over the edge. Afterwards, he moved back over to the driving console and fiddled with a few buttons until quiet, staticky music sounded out. He then sat down across the circle from you, immediately accepting one of the joints from Archie.

You stood up on your knees, and looked around. Water lapped lightly against the sides of the boat, so it took you a moment to find your equilibrium. The silhouette of the tall pines surrounding the lake were awe-striking.

Nobody wanted to break the silence, so you didn’t. The weed was starting to take effect, making your body feel heavy and your head feel light. You started to lay down, unclipping your life jacket to use as a pillow. Slowly, your friends followed your lead, the sounds of shuffling and buckles popping open momentarily interrupting the tranquil silence.

You watched the sky change from pink to a deep blue, only turning your head away when the first stars became visible. Morgan was laying next to you, staring straight up at the sky. To anyone else, she looked like she was lost in thought, but you knew her better than that. There was a slight frown, watery eyes, a little crinkle across her forehead... she was worried about something.

“What are you thinking about?” You asked, trailing a hand down her arm. She let out a long exhale.

“This is gonna sound so soppy,” Morgan sighed, “but I can’t stop thinking about like… how different I would be if I could just, change things about myself.”

“I like you the way you are,” Isobel frowned, sitting up slightly to look at her, “plus, you can change things about yourself. People do it all the time. New hairstyles, piercings, clothes. You could completely rebrand yourself anytime you want.”

“She’s not talking about her appearance,” you said softly, squeezing Morgan’s hand, “she means… like, changing who you are, at your very core. Things you can’t help.”

“I get that,” Ryan chimed in, “I think about that, too. If I could change one thing about myself, I would make myself more motivated. My life would be so different if I could just… alter one tiny thing.”

“Exactly!” Morgan nodded. “I would… make myself less impulsive, I think. I have so many regrets, and it’s all because I never properly think before I act. I’d be so much better off if I could just learn to be more careful.”

“I like how spontaneous you are,” Isobel hummed, “but I think I know what you mean. If I could change anything about myself, I’d make myself less anxious. Anxiety has always held me back so much… I mean, fuck… I haven’t even come out to my family yet, even though I know they’d support me. I’d be so much happier if I could appreciate the good things in life, rather than stress about how to keep them.”

“I’m with Isobel,” Harry spoke. He’d just taken a rather large pull from the joint, so his voice came out rougher than gravel. “Anxiety is such a bitch, and it’s like, out of our control. It’s kept me from talking about my feelings so many times, and I feel like I’ve missed out on some really good friendships because of it.”

Despite the heaviness of the conversation, you felt happier than you had in a long time. You’d smoked just enough to feel numb, and the waves were rocking against the boat so gently that it felt like you were floating. You took a deep breath in through your nose, feeling the crisp forest air fill your lungs before exhaling. The stars were shining in the cloudless sky, crickets were chirping along the shore, and soft music was filtering through the cheap boat stereo. It was peaceful, listening to your friends pour their hearts out.

Each person took a turn sharing what they would change about themselves. Archie would get rid of his bad temper, James would become a better listener, and Jane would be less self-conscious.

“What would you change?” Morgan turned to look at you.

You and your twin sister were very different people. So different, in fact, that you sometimes forgot that you were identical. In moments like this, when her eyes were watery and hooded, voice thick with sadness and hope, that you were reminded of how similar you could be.

“If I could change anything about myself….” you mused, closing your eyes. “I think I would… let things go.”

“Let things go?” Archie echoed.

“Yeah,” you nodded, “like, let go of the past. Whenever something bad happens to me, I let it really get to me. Negative memories and feelings just… constantly eat away at me. I wish I could just wake up in the morning and think about the future… because thinking about the past is exhausting.”

Nobody spoke after your confession. Nobody tried to assure anyone that they would be okay, or convince anyone that they didn’t need to change. There was something comforting about lying in a circle with your friends, your sister… even Harry, because you were all flawed, and none of you knew what the future would bring. You all found solace in the fact that you were here, right now, laying in a circle on a boat, with an old jazz song ringing through the air.

And who knows… maybe someday, you’ll all find a way to change the parts of yourselves that bother you. Maybe you’ll learn to appreciate them. Maybe your flaws will end up helping you in the long run.

But for now, none of you were alone. And that was enough.

~~~

Thank you for reading! I love getting feedback, so let me know what you thought! xoxoxoxoxoooooxxxxxxooooooxxxoooo Tile

#harry styles #harry styles fanfic #harry styles imagine #harry styles fic #harry #styles #pypfc #pick your poison fic challenge #enemies to lovers #m&bc #miles and black coffee #multi-part fic #part 1

448 notes · View notes

reversecreek · 3 years

Text

snickers feverishly at myself for bringing in a 5th... who do i think i am? unstoppable? invincible? suddenly ripples my titanium plated pecs. maybe so. u can find her pinterest here n her playlist here.

* margaret qualley, cis female + she/her | you know bradley milligan, right? they’re twenty-four, and they’ve lived in irving for, like, all of their life? well, their spotify wrapped says they listened to looking for knives by dyan like, a million times this year, which makes sense ‘cause they’ve got that whole snow angels trampled through by your father’s footprints, casually reading a newspaper that’s catching flame & stubbing a cigarette against the wing mirror of a parked cop car thing going on. i just checked and their birthday is november 11th, so they’re a scorpio, which is unsurprising, all things considered. ( nai, 24, gmt she/her )

HISTORY:

bradley has this memory of meeting her grandmother for the first time n everything in the room was frozen still. even the air. she didn’t feel like she cld move n she got the impression this is how it’d always been in the milligan lineage. the only thing that was allowed to act of it’s own accord was her grandmother’s eyes as she tracked every slightest flinch of muscle. when her father left the room her grandmother reached out and took bradley’s hand n bradley looked at this like it was smthn she’d never seen before until her grandmother leaned close and all she could stare at was a nicotine stain on one of her front teeth. “he’s cold, isn’t he? he’s always been cold. i don’t think he’s mine.” bradley could tell from how tight she held her hand that he was. she could tell by the way she smiled as she said it, too. the way she felt obliged to smile back.

growing up in a huge white house in aquila drive w pruned hedges sounds idyllic n looks it too. swanky cars w tinted windows in the long driveway. always men filing in and out under the cloak of night wearing expensive suits n smiles worthy of a politician’s billboard. bradley’s mum alyssa thought so too n that’s hw she got into this whole mess tbh. tony milligan is very good at advertising. he cld package a jarred human heart as strawberry jam and convince u to spread it on ur toast if he wanted to. he could make u smile politely as u ate ur own.

alyssa ws this very pretty blonde kind of mysterious presence in a room. everyone wanted to kno her story or fk her but noone rly treated her like a person more just like a puzzle to solve. john green syndrome alert..... literally manic pixie dream girled bt on turbo charge. there were vague whispers she’d run away from home when she appeared in town out of nowhere bt nothing concrete. tony decided he wanted to crack the case n once he set his mind to something there was no changing it. they wound up embroiled in a whirlwind romance. head over heels. he came at romance hard and fast as a freight train. alyssa knew he was into shady things but not quite the full extent of it n honestly she didn’t care bc she wanted security n a family to call her own n tony promised that. they were married within a year.

tony came frm money bt he wanted to carve his own path n make his own legacy. destined fr greatness he’d tell her. we’re destined for greatness. it sounds nice doesn’t it! alyssa thought so too.

(drugs mention tw) slowly over the yrs he essentially forged his own crime organisation tht only grew. he opened a strip club down the seedier side of irving called ‘no angels’ n this became the front thru which his gang ran drugs in the back (predominantly coke n they pride themselves fr having a Superior Blend apparently) as well as laundering cash n this also was kind of their home base to hang

(abuse tw) their marriage increasingly lost it’s shine n alyssa came to realise she’d been sold a lie n she didn’t rly know this person or what he was capable of right around the time bradley was born. by then it was kind of like Wow i am rly in this n there is not an exit door huh. i won’t go into details bt things were not good at all. bradley witnessed n experienced a lot of things she shouldn’t have growing up. she didn’t understand why other kids drew home in all these different coloured crayons like they were bright places to be. she didn’t understand why everyone got so excited when the bell rang at the end of the day bc she just felt sick. she rationalised tht this was normal when she was younger bc sometimes kids talked abt the monsters under their beds giving them nightmares n she thought mayb they were talking abt their dads too. as she got older she realised tht actually her world wasn’t the same as anyone else’s n she also realised no-one wld ever be able to tell her why. she started becoming friends with the angry feeling in her chest tht she used to try and swallow around this time. often she’d wander the mall for a while to put off going home. smoke on random park benches. watch trains rattle thru town from the vantage point of a random rooftop.

(abuse, missing person implied, murder implied & grief tw) when bradley was 12 she woke up and all of her mum’s clothes were gone frm their drawers. no shoes anywhere. a framed photo of them at the beach holding bradley as a baby vanished from over the mantelpiece. when bradley asked her dad what was going on, tony essentially said “it was exhausting her. being here. being your mother. she didn’t want to do it any more, so now she’s gone” n then he hugged her. little details leaked into the mix over the yrs. at one point tony dismissed her as having flown overseas to a foreign country to drink in the sun like she’d always wanted even tho alyssa always told bradley she liked the snow best (once she even walked outside as it fell in a thin lace nightgown when tony was out n when bradley said “mom you’re gonna get cold” she only tugged her down and made her do snow angels until her lips looked blue). the most significant memory bradley can never shake from her head is her mother cupping a yellow tulip at the park n saying she hated them. when bradley asked why she only turned and smiled at her as she stroked the hair from her face n then said “because they look so happy”. after bradley’s mum vanished a long flower bed at the bottom of the garden was suddenly overrun with dozens of freshly planted yellow tulips. whenever bradley looked at them out of her window she got this sickly feeling in the pit of her stomach like she was visiting a cemetery. she suspected what had happened to her mum (especially as rumours circulated within tony’s organisation abt alyssa being unfaithful with someone tht used to work fr him) bt she cld never bring herself to truly accept it. thus she ws stuck in this strange purgatory state of not-quite-anger at her mum for “leaving” and not-quite-grief.

bradley rly started to transgress in school after her mum was gone. alyssa was always kind of a character when she’d pick bradley up (wasn’t doing well n acted kind of ‘eccentric’ i suppose u cld say) so tony managed to spin it all as a child acting out in the wake of an unfit mother uprooting n abandoning. bradley became........ interesting. JKHGFSSKJGHFSGHSKFGHFG. she’d snap n resort to violence very easily. very desensitised to it. students were kind of scared of her tbh. as this progressed into proper high school she got in w the more rowdy popular crowd solely bc she was so fking.... wild for lack of a better word. rly would just do anything fr the thrill. had no sense of ‘i shouldn’t do this bc it’s dangerous’. partied harder than anyone. bit back harder than anyone. no filter. hung w a lot of guys honestly bc they had less morals n either found her scariness cool or wanted to fk <3

(hospitalisation, depression & drugs tw) she’s had. a few stints in psychiatric institutions fr various reasons tbh. missed a small chunk of her senior yr fr this but it wasn’t widely known just kind of rumoured. she showcases a lot of similar symptoms to her mum who struggled w severe depression (which was difficult to cope w when ur husband was often pouring ur prescription down the drain fr kicks) n in order to compensate fr the lows she takes a lot of things to kick them into highs. drinks n snorts too much. bradley i love u bt i’m begging u to seek healthier coping mechanisms......

as the yrs went on (especially once alyssa had gone) tony rly started trying to integrate bradley into the business side of things...... she literally. is named bradley bc he was expecting a boy n he was like well let’s still call her bradley. n had in mind she’d still fulfil the role he wanted her to of being his little protege so to speak.... both sexist n ugly all in one fell swoop...... an example of this is he literally. bought her a mint green switchblade for her 14th birthday n named it tinkerbell bc it would “die without attention” aka using it. tht sounds like a healthy gift to give a child tony congratulations sis <3

in an ideal world bradley wld have gone to uni to study psychology bc she jst wants to know how the fk her dad is literally like that bt she probably stuck around n is now managing no angels along with billy n marco (billy’s in her dad’s gang n is, u guessed it, a cunt, n marco is his sort of right hand man so to speak) bc tony’s in the closest neighbouring city overseeing a second ‘no angels’ opening up there to expand into a franchise n widen their income margins. bradley wld also be sort of used as a honey trap type deal once she got older if they needed to lure ppl places n sometimes still is bt it depends. the guys in the club all know not to mess w bradley bc she’s tony’s daughter n literally kind of scary herself sometimes bt there’s also this certain allure tht comes with being the boss’ daughter n it kind of comes across in how they act or talk abt her. yes i will kill them all n no i won’t feel bad abt it <3

think that’s kind of all u need to kno history wise... blinks one eye out of sync w the other..... runs to personality

PERSONALITY:

a phrase i wld always use to describe bradley in old intros is “like a cup of black coffee with one grain of sugar that u don’t taste until the last sip”. also dark chocolate. lime. liquorice. she’s an acquired taste n i feel like u either love her or u hate her.

cannot express how unpredictably chaotic she is..... frequently throws a drink in a stranger’s face jst to start something bc she’s bored. loves to hurl cheese slices across the room so they slap onto someone’s face out of nowhere. likes smashing things. stubbing cigarettes out on faces in framed family photographs. will literally pick a lock n then smash the window besides it to defeat the whole purpose just bc she found how neat it was boring. does anything fr the adrenaline n thrill. gets into far too many fights n fights dirty. probably been thrown out of every bar in town at least three times. banned from a bunch too.

she’s witty bt she has a dark sense of humour..... can be quite mean.......... loves to roast ppl for no reason........ honestly has some nathan young frm misfits aspects in that sense like jst seems untouchable emotionally n like she doesn’t take anything seriously n is fking outrageous about it.....

has this quality abt her tht kind of scares herself sometimes. it’s like she recognises parts of her dad in her. she’s very perceptive (bc she’s had to be over the yrs trying to read every micro-expression of her dad’s to predict what’s next) n like emotionally intelligent in a way which is ironic bc her own emotions r just an absolute minefield.... bt. she can read people quite well. gets this eerily calm look abt her sometimes n it’s jst like god what’s. she thinking. what’s she’s gna do. i’m shaking. a cool n controlled kind of rage can often be scarier than the explosive type n bradley does that well. grits my teeth n tugs on my collar....

very strong on the surface. hates being vulnerable. has this ingrained idea that crying is childish or rly any kind of emotional display within herself. 50% not taking things seriously 50% angry. tht’s how she comes across....... internally? whole different story. bt ppl don’t see that.

very cavalier abt some things. will flash her tits n not even think abt it. jst very out there...... one of her closest friends is a homeless man named joe who wears neon purple fishnets on his head n loves to spit on ppl from over an underpass. finds eccentric ppl like this funny n surrounds herself w them. loves to be kept on her toes.

LOVES driving stolen cars down the wrong side of the highway. it’s a lot.

fiercely loyal to a fault to a select few bt if u wrong her personally this can switch pretty quick. quite a force to b reckoned w n will hold a grudge. bt like. if ur a Chosen One she’d bury a body for u no questions asked.

WANTED CONNECTIONS

deals to u: bradley isn’t like full time into dealing bt she does do it sometimes.... treats it kind of like a hobby bc the lesser ranked can do tht shit as far as she’s concerned bt.. sometimes also jst gets bored n is like. why not. might be chaotic. mayb they’ll try to rob me <3 we love the thrill <3 or like..... if ur friends w her she’ll deal to u n no she will not do a friends discount <3 or if she does there will definitely be some sort of stipulation attached <3

high skl crew: if ur muse is local n ws an absolutely demonic hell spawn in high skl tht went to 1974547254 parties n was outrageously chaotic n rude then. bradley probably was friends w them <3 her friendships tend to be surface level bt they’d definitely go out a bunch bt whether they actually knew a lot abt her life is debatable bt we could explore options fr this

people who work at no angels: no angels is her dad’s strip club in irving that she kind of helps to run now. it’s kind of a shifty environment. the place where ud have an outrageous bachelor party. u go for the first time w a fake id n u get served bt u also get ur wallet stolen n ur convinced someone spat in ur drink n u also kind of think there might b a hit on u now after u made eye contact too long w a broad shouldered man smoking in a back booth. scary environment. testament to her dad as a person. maybe ur muse is a dancer there or works the bar or security or whatever u name it....

ma’am are u ok?: ur muse found bradley passed out across two bus seats one time in smudged dark eyeliner a silver slip dress n the world’s chunkiest combat boots this town hs ever seen. sometimes she winds up in spots like this when she goes too hard n it’s absolutely dangerous n reckless bt that’s jst bradley <3 mayb they forged an unlikely friendship frm this strange meeting or maybe even? dare i say it? a romance? opposite worlds colliding? good influence? let’s go crazy. release ur inhibitions. feel the rain on ur skin.

hook-ups: bradley’s cavalier abt this stuff..... very unemotional typically..... mayb we cld do an unrequited thing that wld be angsty n fun altho i won’t lie i don’t kno if she’d be the one to catch the feelings.... she rarely sleeps over bt once when she woke up in someone’s bed she hiked over to straddle them carefully as possible so they wldn’t wake up n then pressed her knife to their neck as a fun little surprise where she said boo when they opened their eyes.... she’s a lot clearly.

watermelon slugger, hiiii: bradley has this habit where she gets a bunch of watermelons n then goes to a rooftop n throws them over the edge to watch them explode when they hit the pavement.... maybe ur muse almost got hit by one once n were like WTF???????? another quirky meet cute moment like the bus one <3 can’t stop w them <3 maybe she randomly invited ur muse to do it w her when they were like. a stranger of f the street. she was bored. decided to adopt them as a science experiment. we cn elaborate on this probably....

ouch charlie: similar territory bt she also sometimes shoots pedestrians w a bb gun from rooftops. mayb ur muse wld always get hit by one on a certain route they walked n finally one day they saw her head ducking down behind a ledge n then they see her in the street one day n are like HEY IT’S YOU............. WTF? n bradley’s like ya i’m christ risen again it’s a lot to take in i know...

rly jst anything... mutually destructive friends... exes.... in one rp a character tried to get close to bradley so he cld write an expose all book about her n her family which i found so fking funny so i’ll request that again.... people she’s fought.... ppl whose gf/bf she’s fk’d n it’s caused enemy status.... someone whose place she broke into and shaved their eyebrows off in the night only to draw them on again in crudely thin permanent sharpie lines.... roommates cld be fun n sexy i’d love that actually.... jst anything rly. go wild. kisses everyone tenderly on cheeks.

#irvingintro #abuse tw #missing person tw #implied murder tw #grief tw #hospitalisation tw #depression tw #drugs tw #death tw #i think tht's all of them....... cor blimey......

15 notes · View notes

copias-thrall · 3 years

Text

There’s Something About Mary

A day in the life of our crusty Mr. Goore

Mary POV chapter bc I want to and I can.

⬅️ Previous

*public masturbation, kinda*

Mary wakes up horny.

He must have been having a pleasant dream, because his cock is hard and throbbing where it rests heavy against his thigh. He shoves a hand down into his undone jeans to give his cock a squeeze—just for a moment of relief—and, as the touch wakes him up fully, he realizes he can hear the distinct sounds of sex from one of the rooms. A thump thump thump and a squeak squeak squeak, all punctuated with blatant moans.

Fuck it, he thinks, and he begins to jack it to the sex orchestra going on, not 10ft from where he lies on the couch. Once a place they sometimes took turns on, the couch has become Mary’s de facto room—a subtle punishment for his supposed defection. So, he has no qualms about masturbating in his room, and if any of the other guys have an issue with it, Mary has no problem making his display more public, just for spite.

He pauses only to spit in his hand when his dry palm begins to chafe. It doesn’t even matter when the noises from the other room cease (and later Mary will have to tease them about their staying power), Mary just scrolls through his mental Rolodex until he brings up the memory of his dick in between Suey’s tits, how they jiggled despite being held together, how shiny they became once covered in his jizz, and how she looked up at him as she contorted one to bring it up to her mouth to lap some off.

“Shit, shit,” he exclaims as the memory of her pink tongue lapping up his cum causes him to release. Some shoots up his bare chest, but most of it lands and pools in his belly button. Eyes still closed, his free hand shoots out and fumbles for the box of tissues on the table, encountering instead a stack of thin takeout napkins.

As he does his best to clean himself up with the napkins—whose integrity is suspect—he can hear the low rumble of male voices and a high, feminine giggle from the sex room. Just to be a jackass, he gets himself up so that he can have first dibs on the bathroom.

Making sure to lock the door behind him, Mary turns on the hot faucet, willing the water to warm up sooner than later. He takes the opportunity, while he waits, to piss in the toilet; it’s already open—toilet seat up—even though it’s supposed to put it down when they have guests. They’re out of TP again, so a roll of paper towels rests on the lid of the tank.

Once the water is warm enough, Mary uses a couple pieces from the roll to clean off the jizz drying and to give himself a brief wipe down. His face is still half crusty with makeup, and he’s tempted to just add to it, but he’s learned from hard experience how that can fuck up your face, so—even though it’s a goddamned pain—Mary washes his face. He even uses the harsh Dial hand soap, even though the acrid smell will get up into his nose for hours.

He thinks of the nice-smelling scrub Suey has and her drugstore face cream he sometimes rubs into his skin.

In the soap- and toothpaste-speckled mirror, he starts to apply his “Day Face” (as Suey calls it) from the communal box of makeup (his better stuff is in his backpack): a light dusting of white powder; some eyeliner all the way around; a dull, red lipstick; and black shadow on his cheekbones.

He’s just starting on his hair when there comes a pounding on the door

“Fucks’ sake. C’mon, Goore.”

Mary turns his head upside down in the sink basin so he can haphazardly splash some water into his hair.

“Fuck off, douchebag.”

He starts to work his fingers into his locks, coaxing the glue already in it to activate.

“She’s gotta pee, man.”

He fluffs his forelock in the mirror as his other hand searches for the blood tube in the box.

“We have a kitchen sink.”

A small voice tells him not to take his annoyance with his friends out on the girl, and he sighs.

“Stop being a di—”

The voice cuts off as Mary swings the door open. Brendan's angry face smooths into one of minor irritation. The girl—Lisa?—stands, thighs crushed together, in an oversized kitten t-shirt. She looks at Mary, wide-eyed; her gaze darts to his bare, wet chest before snapping back up.

“Lis,” he says, winking as he saunters out.

Her face crumples a little.

“Lizzy,” she says, and Mary’s stomach swoops a bit when he realizes he’s probably slept with her before.

He makes himself smile as she moves past him to the bathroom.

“That’s what I said: Liz.” He shoots her a finger gun at her as Brendan scowls at them both. When the door closes and Brendan is still glaring, Mary lets out a “What?”

“You sticking around for breakfast, man?”

Mary rolls his eyes. “I’m here, ain’t I?” He starts to paw through the plastic shelving drawers next to the couch for a shirt.

Brendan shrugs. “Thought your pussy-whipped ass might need to get back to that uptown princess of yours.”

He glares at Brendan. “Stop being dick.”

“She’s fucking slumming it, dude. I’m warning you.”

It’s not a new argument, so Mary just ignores him, instead trying to apply a bit of blood to the tip of his forelock using the heart compact Suey gave him.

Titus emerges from the shared room, yawning, in his terrible leopard print robe that’s way too short.

“Morning, asswipe,” he says to Mary as he walks by. “What’re we bitching about?”

Brendan says “uptown girl” as Mary says “nothing.”

Titus sighs.

“Jesus, Brendan. You gotta get over that. That’s Mary’s mistake to make.”

“You know what? Fuck this shit.” Mary starts getting his backpack in order.

“That’s right! Blow off another band meeting!” says Brendan, and Mary spins on his heel to stomp back.

He jabs a finger into his chest. “I’m here all the goddamned time, more than I am at her place. I come to every meeting you tell me about.”

“I shouldn’t have to tell you about anything. You should just be here. You should be committed,” hisses Brendan.

“I’m going to make some toast,” says Titus as he swishes toward the kitchen.

Mary rifles through his plastic draws and slams a notebook and loose papers onto the table.

“There’s mine, dude. Lyrics. Composition. Where’s yours?”

Donnie and Jamie wander out of their room.

“Not this shit again. It’s too fucking early,” says Donnie.

Brendan vibrates. “What about funds, man? A social media presence? You think all that happens by magic?”

“So I’m supposed to write, and compose, and do the budget?” snarls Mary.

“Guys,” moans Jamie.

“And our Insta is shit, by the way.”

“Fuck. Can we not?” moans Donnie.

Mary again jabs a finger at Brendan. “Then tell him to can it. I’ve already been exiled to the couch. I don’t need him picking fights because he doesn’t like my girlfriend, who—by the way—has never fucking done anything wrong.”

“You haven’t been exil—” Jamie starts.

“We were supposed to fucking share those rooms,” Mary hisses as he gesticulates. “I pay the same amount of rent, and yet I come home one day to find all my stuff in a pile in the living room. I have to wait for you guys to stop playing video games because ‘this is shared space’ to fucking sleep.”

“We all agreed—”

“No. You guys agreed. I didn’t get shit to say about it. So you’ll forgive me if I’m not too fucking keen on being pleasant.”

They all stand there, glowering at each other until Donnie says, “I need to take a goddamned piss,” and finds the bathroom door locked. At his soft The fuck? the lock clicks, and Lizzy opens the door cautiously.

“I’m sorry. It just. Seemed like you guys were getting into it.”

Brendan sighs. “C’mon, babe. Let’s get your stuff.”

The fight isn’t a new one, and—with no resolution in sight—they all drop the subject so they can get on with the breakfast of eggs on toast Titus brings out and the subsequent band meeting. The Brick—a cheap, overworked laptop—is brought out so they can go over band business: the budget; the van maintenance and parking costs; the gig and practice schedule is outlined so that they can align their work shifts; new merch ideas are bandied about; and they talk about how to improve their digital sales.

Mary’s leg jiggles impatiently.

The meeting breaks nearly 5hrs later; Jamie goes back to sleep because he’s got the night shift at the Quik•Mart; Brendan heads out for his afternoon shift at Target; it’s Donnie’s day off, so he cues up Mario Kart; and Titus decides he’s going to go pound on the drums in the practice space they rent, since his dad pays his bills.

Mary has been saddled with stopping by the local record stores to see if any of their physical CDs have sold to prove he’s “committed,” even though he’s got the closing shift at Sixes & Sevens.

As he’s leaving the building, he encounters Brendan, who is leaning against the brick, smoking a cigarette. Mary’s fingers twitch.

“So you’re not coming back tonight, then.”

“We have band business?”

“No.”

“Then, no.”

Brendan lets out a puff of smoke.

“You think I’m being a dick, but that girl does not care about you. She’s a tourist. Us—the band. That’s what’s real, Mary.”

Mary knows he should keep walking, but even after counting to 10, he’s still pissed, so he spins on his heel.

“You don’t know anything about her or her goddamned life.”

“Neither do you.” He finishes the smoke, then tosses it to the pavement to grind under his combat boot. “We’ll be here when it all explodes in your face, Goore. But you’re going to have to rebuild a lot of bridges.”

And then he’s off down the sidewalk. Mary stands there, seething, waiting until Brendan disappears round the corner since he’s also headed in that direction.

He’s not really in the best of moods when he hits up the first store, but by the 4th, he’s back to his plucky repartee. The owner of his favorite shop intimates that a vinyl version of their LP might sell much better than their DIY CD, and Mary enthusiastically thanks the dude as if it’s the first time such a concept has been considered.

The whole route honestly doesn’t even really take that much time at all—maybe 2 hours—so he chances stopping by Suey’s. Worst case, he’ll take a nap; best case, she’ll be there to bitch at him.

Like everything else today, however, circumstances are just not on his side, and he opens the door to her tiny fucking apartment to find it empty. The mail is bad again, and he rifles through it, plucking out anything that’s obviously junk to toss and anything that looks like a bill to put on her counter. There’s only a bowl in the sink, so he leaves it.

He’s hoping that she comes home before he has to leave—maybe she’ll even give him a blow job—as he wraps himself up in the afghan that smells slightly of her.

She doesn’t.

His alarm wakes him up at 4:15pm for his shift at 6. Groggily, he stumbles to the fridge to see what there is to eat, and finds a pot crammed in haphazardly amongst the other food items. Mary’s not really sure what he’s looking at—Suey tends to just throw shit together when she can’t be bothered, but most of the time it’s edible.

It ends up being some sort of cheesy potato stew and actually isn’t that bad. He eats the whole thing out of the pot before scrubbing it and the lone bowl clean. He waits as long as he dares to watch her come clomping tiredly through her door, but he really does have to leave. He leaves a kiss on her mirror after he reapplies his lipstick. (He should probably redo his face but: eh.)

Work is work. It starts slow—with Mary taking down the chairs and wiping off everything with the disinfectant spray. Sometimes Mary finds this kind of Zen—a time to hum out chords and roll around lyrics in his head—but today he’s just tired. It gets a little better when Mickey and the other bartender show up to do citrus prep. It’s a weekday, so there’s only a moderate crowd, and Mickey leaves them to it so he can do business manager-type things in his office.

And then there are the girls. Most of the girls who come to Sixes & Sevens aren’t the type to be put off by Mary’s whole shtick—and there are obviously the ones who come here expressly to flirt with him—so he has no qualms turning on his charms. Mickey lets him do it because customers are customers, and if girls want to come and spend money on drinks while they purr at Mary, who is Mickey to stop them? Len or Mika don’t give a shit because tips are pooled.

Used to be Mary could have his pick of a warm body for the evening—some girl (or occasionally some guy if Mary deemed him beefy enough) who’d take him to her nice-smelling, clean apartment … who’d let him spend the night on her soft, downy pillows after he pounded her into next year, before kicking him out at dawn. But now he’s got a girlfriend—one who makes sure he eats and yells at him to wash his face—waiting for him in her stale apartment with her flat, polyester pillows, and Mary hopes he’s not fool enough to fuck that up.

Not that his dick has gotten the memo.

No matter how many times Mary tells that fucker that he’s not going to fuck any of these women, his dick still twitches in interest whenever plump lips are wrapped around straws or fingertips trail over his hand. Tonight is especially bad for some reason, and Mary has to stick close to the walls of the bar so that no one can see his semi. A girl in a furry, white shrug seems particularly on his dick, and he does his best to flirt just enough for a good tip, but not enough for a proposition.

When he gets his break, Mary takes it out back in the alley by the dumpster. The air is chill, but it feels good after the humidity of the bar. He was hoping maybe his dick would go down, but it’s like it’s trying to spite him. Leaning his head back on the wall, he can’t help but close his eyes and run his palm lightly over the outline. It’s a fool’s errand—it’s not like he can get off without it showing on his pants—but that doesn’t stop him from touching.

A voice clears, and Mary startles. He’s out here by the rancid garbage so he can be alone, so he wasn’t really expecting to find anyone else.

“I can help you with that,” says the girl with the white fur that may or may not be real. She’s standing across from him, and he can see that she’s in a dress so simple that it must be hella expensive. She’s holding an unlit cigarette.

Mary jerks his hand away from his crotch, shifting so that he can surreptitiously adjust his jeans.

“The fuck are you doing out back here?”

She shrugs. “Needed to get away from my bitches. I love them but: drama city. You got a light?”

He knows it’s a ruse, but he still fumbles out his Zippo because he’s a goddamned gentleman. She, shockingly, takes the opportunity to move in closer to his body as he holds out the flame … close enough to blow the smoke of the first drag in his face.

“So,” she says, eyes darting down to his semi. “You want me suck that?” She gesticulates with her chin, posture nonchalant but eyes hungry.

His dick gives an answering throb, but he shrugs. “Nah. I got a girl.”

She looks at him, assessing, before half crossing her arms and taking another drag. Smoke pours out her nose.

“She’s not here.”

Mary doesn’t respond immediately, not knowing how to get out of this. She hasn’t said anything untrue. He’s horny, Suey’s not here, and she wants to suck his cock.

He reaches his hand up and taps his breast where he thinks his heart is.

“She’s here,” he says, and he’s glad Suey’s not present because hoo boy would she give him shit for that winner.

The girl just tilts her head at him, this time blowing smoke out the side of her mouth after she inhales. It occurs to Mary that he wants her cigarette more than his dick wants to be sucked. If she thinks this is some kind of elaborate game of hard to get, she’s sorely mistaken.

“You got a picture?”

“A … what?”

She gesticulates impatiently. “A picture. Of this girlfriend.”

Mary thinks, then pats around for his wallet, even though he only ever puts it in his back pocket. When she sees the wallet come out, she laughs.

“An actual picture? That’s old school.”

He shrugs as he rifles. “I’m on my break.” He doesn’t tell her that his ancient flip phone doesn’t take pictures. Well, not good ones.

The photo of Suey he has is relatively new—slipped in behind the old, worn one of his mum—but its edges are starting to soften. In the image, Suey stands, hip popped, as she gives him the finger with a snotty look on her face. She’s in one of her weird 90′s outfits—a micro mini and tied up band tee—and the cute pudge of her belly hangs over her waist band a little. Her hair is pushed back from her face because she’s just lifted up her sunglasses—there’s still a little mark on her nose where they were resting.

She hates this picture, but her attitude makes him smile.

“You gonna ogle it all night, Mary?”

Mary’s attention snaps back to the alley. He ignores the intimacy. Carefully, with a stern look on his face that he hopes conveys how much the photo is not to be fucked with, he hands the picture over.

White Fur looks at the picture for a long time. Then she looks up at him. She gives the image one more glance before handing it back to him.

“Yeah, ok,” she says as she crosses her arms again.

Mary tucks the photo back into his wallet.

“The fuck does that mean?” he scowls. He’s just about had it with people insulting Suey today, and some random-ass girl in a back alley is the last person he’d let get away with it, even if she is a fan.

She takes her last drag before flicking the stub in the direction of a dumpster.

“Dunno. You seem like the type to have some scene girl with more legs than brains hanging off your arm.”

Mary thinks that’s a little uncharitable: he’s always been an equal-opportunity lay.

“She seems legit though,” the girl continues. “Makes sense.”

“Uh. Thanks?”

“Yeah, no problem.” She heads for the door, but stops to smirk at him. “Looks like I helped after all.”

As she swings back inside, Mary looks down to realize his hard-on is gone.

Mickey doesn’t cut him early, but he doesn’t make him stay past closing either. Even so, it’s still after 3am when he gets to Suey’s. The bills are gone from the counter, but there are no new dishes in the sink. He opens the fridge to find a pizza box crumpled into the top, balanced precariously on the other items. Mary takes it out and inhales the cold pizza right from the box; he knows they’re all for him because Suey fucking hates pepperoni. (Though it doesn’t escape his notice that she’s put one piece of pineapple in the center to mess with him.)

He leaves the box by the trash (he’ll flatten it tomorrow), and then makes his way to her bathroom to wash his face and brush his teeth, lest he incur her wrath.

When he finally wiggles into her twin bed in his boxers, he’s bone tired. His dick still kinda wants some action, but Mary thinks he’d probably just fall asleep in the middle, and Suey really would bite his head off if he woke her up for no reason. He wishes she’d just sleep nude, but finding her in one of his well-worn shirts is the next best thing. He doesn’t mean to wake her up, but he can’t help himself from running his hands all over her—this girl who sees him and not his “image.”

“Mare?” she says in a quiet, sleepy voice.

He kisses her head.

“Go back to sleep, baby doll.”

She doesn’t speak again, but she squirms around until she’s sprawled across his chest. He’d prefer to have her caught up in a little spoon, but having her pressed into him—body sleep warm—is nothing to wave a stick at.

This is all he wanted, anyway.

Next ➡️

#mary goore #feral cats fic #gutter punk #mary pov #my writing #original post

37 notes · View notes

ezrastokes · 3 years

Photo

[ CODY CHRISTIAN, HE/HIM, CISMALE ] — [ EZRA STOKES ] is a child of [ HEPHAESTUS ] with the power of [ TECHNOKINESIS ] . they were born in [ 1995 ] and have been in nemean lion since [ 2010 ] . with the change, they [ HAVE GRADUATED FROM ] the [ TECHNOLOGY ] role which makes sense since they’re usually [ FIRING POTTERY IN THE KILN AND BREWING A THIRD CUP OF COFFEE ] . if you’d like to meet them try the [ MOON ] building . — kati / she & her / est / 18+

links: stats / pinterest .

background

most of ezra’s early years were spent not fitting in and for most of that time, he didn’t know why. he didn’t understand why his father seemed to hate him so much, why his younger brother, caleb, seemed to get all of the attention. ezra chalked it up to just not being quite good enough, maybe because he wasn’t into sports the way caleb was, coming home with paint on his shirt instead of grass stains.

for a while, ezra tried to fit in, went out for baseball to try and garner his father’s approval, but it was never really him. over time, he began to isolate himself instead, because it was easier to be on his own than face rejection and disapproval.

his mom was loving, but only behind closed doors. it always seemed like she was scared to show her affection for ezra in front of his father, like she felt GUILTY about loving him, about caring about him. she’d sneak into his room at night and read him stories or they’d spend all day together when his father was out of town. “ why does dad hate me so much ? ” he’d ask, and his mother would smile sadly and say, “ i’ll explain more when you’re older. ”

ezra started developing his powers when he was about twelve years old. his mother had hoped it would never happen. it started small, realizing he could do things like make the toaster pop up without touching it or turn on the television with what seemed to be sheer willpower. his parents started noticing this too. he overheard them talking about it one night, fighting. ezra didn’t know what it meant, but over time, he’d listen at the top of the stairwell as the arguments got more and more heated, resulting in broken glass. caleb would sit with him sometimes. “ what are they always fighting about lately ? ” ezra would ask. “ you, ” the dreaded answer, but he’d already known. he just needed to hear someone say it. “ it’s because you’re a freak. ”

anxious during a test at school, ezra set the printer going so hard that it started smoking and set the fire alarm off. to most people, it was nice to get out of the test, but ezra went home demanding answers. “ just tell me what i am, please ! ” rising frustration, appliances in the house whirring to life. ezra was getting more powerful, it was not just a PHASE that he could outgrow. his parents had to tell him the truth.

his mother sit down and told him about an AFFAIR she had once, with the god hephaestus. he had been able to forgive her for it, but his father had never been able to get over the living manifestation of her disloyalty, the obvious misfit in the family that stuck out and didn’t belong. every day, ezra seemed less and less like he could be his father’s son. everything seemed to click into place for ezra, but it didn’t make him feel any better to be the product of circumstances he couldn’t control ; things would have been easier if he’d been born normal like caleb.

his mother expressed concern for the way his powers were growing and that modern society might not be the place for him. she’d been told if such powers ever developed, that there was a place that he could go. so, at age fifteen he packed this things and began training at nemean lion.

ezra naturally assimilated into the technology track with his powers, it seemed to make the most sense for him. in terms of helping heroes, he is most comfortable beneath the hood of a car, developing advanced transportation technology and essentially providing heroes with the best possible support. he also built his own motorcycle and car from scratch, they’re named thelma and louise respectively, his pride and joys. ezra is a quiet person but get him talking about his hobbies / geeking out and you’ve hit the sweet spot.

recently graduated and working, though he feels like he’s in no position to mentor the newbies…he’ll try. he would’ve been happy to be a student forever, but due to nl’s new status, he felt the need to rush his graduation and work a little harder so that they’d have the tech help they need for the heroes on the field fighting monsters and such.

personality

PERSISTENT. essentially, when ezra sets his mind on something, he will accomplish it. in some ways, he can be pretty one-track minded when it comes to things, like he’ll start a task in the garage or at the kiln and he won’t speak to anyone for days until it’s done. balance ? he doesn’t know her. but achieving his goals ? yes, king. sometimes i think ezra believes that people are to be measured on accomplishments and his value only exists in terms of what he can do for others. however, you can definitely count on him to get a job done.

PRACTICAL. ezra is a pretty realistic person, not the type to get caught up in a daydream or set an unrealistic expectation for himself. granted, he knows he can accomplish a lot, but he would never expect more of himself than what is tangible. he’s definitely not a naive person and is more inclined to believe actions over words every time.

INDEPENDENT. ezra is the sort of person who has always felt like he’s had to fend for himself and is pretty mature. he’s good at taking care of himself and has never felt like he NEEDS other – not that anyone’s really need him. he’s very self-sufficient as a person basically and doesn’t rely on others to get things done. you’ll literally never feel like ezra’s a mooch, but he would let others mooch off him tbh.

PESSMISTIC. as a result of that practicality, he can come off as rather negative in conversation or in ideals. essentially, ezra can be a real downer to be around sometimes because he will always anticipate the worst case scenario ! he’ll tell you he’s just being prepared though.

SENSITIVE. although he comes off as tough or even unapproachable sometimes, this is actually because he’s EASILY hurt. he puts on a front like a badass but seriously he is a sensitive baby and if you say something that rubs him the wrong way he will legit never forget it. can literally hold a grudge for 8092390482 years like if you cross him slightly he will bring it up until you die.

headcanons

if he’s not working with vehicles, he’s making pottery. he has a wheel in his room and is really passionate about art and ceramics. so, when he’s not working, he’s probably firing something.

yes, he has an etsy store <3

has a little black cat named soot that is genuinely his best friend

has a natural affinity toward all things fire and smoke, developing the nasty habit of smoking cigarettes – american spirits, too, because he has no class. however, since he started dating his current girlfriend, he’s pretty much quit smoking to make her happy – and like, to be more kissable.

genuinely, his girlfriend cecilia baum ( y’all know her ? ) has been a super positive influence in his life because he used to drink, smoke, and isolate himself a lot more before getting to know her but honestly the act of developing a crush and trying to impress her all the time got him into better habits and her caring about him has made him care a bit about himself more too.

granted, it’s not JUST cece. making better friends and meeting people that care about him has been a positive influence on him overall

don’t ask me too much about cece, strud and i are mid-plotting but they are dating.

you’d probably think like mechanic, artist, he must be super messy? however, ezra is really meticulous and organized, i would say he’s always been really mature and independent. he has his shit together, but he’s also fueled by a ridiculous amount of coffee in order to do so.

though he does often smell like gasoline from working in the garage so much, though he personally loves that.

really likes thrifting? like browsing thrift stores for hours and finding weird shit or interesting art pieces. he’ll treat thrift stores like museums, could spend hours walking around, but he’ll also spend hours walking around museums.

wanted connections

best friends, bros, etc !! i’m looking for the people he really vibes with in a number of ways, his squad, his fam, the wholesome shit. the scott to his stiles, the schmidt to his nick, all of these things.

but i would especially love to have like his DAY ONE, i will simply go crazy go stupid for a best friend connection and i feel like that person who supported him from the start and made him feel less alone on his first days at NL prob means the fucking world to him.

like, someone he’s protective of? maybe a little sister type connection, essentially someone that’s probably softer and more naive and he feels like he has to look out for them and keep them safe and such.

someone to test out his vehicles and inventions. ezra is always tinkering away in the garage and he comes up with cool stuff for the heroes to use out when they’re saving the world, it would be nice if he had someone who was always down to literally come through in the middle of the night and be the elastigirl to his edna mode and all.

someone that he really clashes with. give me enemies for god’s sake, or anything, i feel like especially when he first arrived at NL he was a bit rough around the edges, hard to get to know. ezra definitely comes off as grumpy and standoffish around people he’s not super comfortable with and he’s pretty introverted, so they might have gotten a bad impression of him.

or honestly if you play a char that’s kind of ? stuck up ? full of themselves ? that would really rub him the wrong way. tho he’s probably just jealous bc he lacks that confidence like damn.

an almost? like a case of bad timing where they were hitting it off or maybe there could have been something between them but he started dating cece instead. maybe your character read into it more than it was and felt really hurt by it. OR he told them he didn’t want a relationship/do relationships and then started dating cece right quick like that’s gotta hurt.

someone who is good w money. help him manage the finances of his etsy store and how to run a business because he doesn’t even know how to properly price his own goods, probably undersells himself. gimme the business mind to his art mind.

drinking buddies! sitting around w a good glass of scotch talking about life after a hard day. ezra doesn’t drink so much but honestly their work is hard and ppl die so like, a lil something to take the edge off.

roommates? is that a thing here? he is in moon building.

naturally also down to vibe and plot anything, exes, family members, enemies, besties, all the things, this is just off the top of my head !!!

#nlintro #* ☕⠀ / ⠀ 𝙁𝙄𝙇𝙀𝘿 𝙐𝙉𝘿𝙀𝙍 ⠀ ﹕ ⠀ ❪ ⠀ intro. ⠀ ❫#one down .. !

14 notes · View notes