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dameronology · 3 years

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to make a house a home {agent whiskey}

summary: just a soft weekend away in kentucky w/ our fave cowboy {for @zazzysseoul - thank u so much for ur support and i hope you enjoy!}

warnings: i think one or two swear words? but nothing else!

enjoy,

- jazz

Jack Daniels was good at reading people.

It was part of his job. He had to be observant, had to have a working understanding of body language and non-verbal signals. He was especially diligent about it when it came to you; it wasn’t a purposeful thing, but rather an instinct to keep an eye on the person he loved most in the world. He could read you like a book and some days, it felt like he knew you better than you knew yourself, and maybe he did. There was really no telling with Jack. Every time you finally thought you had experienced every little quirk and trait he had to offer, he managed to pull something out the bag. Whether it was his ability to predict a bad mood before it happened or the way he remembered every tiny little detail of a conversation, he was constantly proving himself to be one hell of a partner.

It was no surprise; Jack thought you deserved the best and so, that’s what he tried to give you. He didn’t often let people into his life, especially not after so much loss, but from the moment you’d met, he knew he could trust you. He’d always been a brilliant judge of character and he’d been completely right about you. You’d turned his entire world upside down; taught him how to love again and reminded him that the things he’d lost could be found again, just with a little care and patience. The empty house he used to come to was filled with love and laughter and little marks of you and him; photos from your various trips, magnets on the fridge, that he brought home from all the countries his job took him to, the little notes you left on his nightstand when you had to slip out for work before he rose. The first time Jack had come through the front door and almost tripped over your shoes, he’d cried - not out of anger or shock, but at the realisation that he was no longer alone.

Jack had the innate desire to look after you. He knew you could handle yourself but that didn’t mean that you had to. You’d been there for him in every sense of the world, and he wanted to do the same, to make sure that you felt appreciated every second of every day. In his mind, if you ever questioned his love or loyalty, then he wasn’t doing his job right. That desire translated into little things, rather than grand displays of affection; he’d do your laundry when you worked late, sent you sweet texts through out the day and brought you flowers just because. It wasn’t uncommon to find that Jack had filled up your car with gas without asking, or to come home to your favourite take out.

His biggest way, however, was in how well he knew you. Every slight change in demeanour and every variation in the tone of your voice was caught by him; he knew when you were okay, and he knew when you weren’t. He could tell when you were half-way between, and he’d do his best to bring you back to the lighter side. You take comfort in the fact he always had your back, no ifs or buts.

When Jack woke up early one morning to find your side of the bed empty, he immediately knew that was something was up; the second his palm reached out for you, only to be met with a fistful of cold sheets, he knew. You never got out of bed early. There could have been an atomic war happening outside and you still would have refused to move, insisting on five more minutes before nuclear winter hit. The bathroom light was off and there wasn’t anything you could have found in the kitchen. After all, you’d only arrived at the ranch a few hours earlier. You were both tired from a few long weeks at work and escaping the suffocating fog of the city for the rolling hills and fresh air of Kentucky felt like heaven.

Jack sat up, pausing for a moment. There was a gentle creek coming from somewhere; it was steady and rhythmic, ringing from the porch. His shoulder slumped wit relief - you were outside on the porch swing. At 6AM on a cold, winter’s morning. The relief was shorting lived.

Pulling on his robe, Jack rubbed his eyes and headed out towards the porch. Sure enough, you were the first thing he saw, shoulders covered by the plaid shirt he’d worn the previous day and fluffy socks gently brushing against the floor with the movement of the swing. The light above you illuminated you in a soft smoulder, a golden glow cast over you, illuminating your tired eyes and disheveled hair. He would have lectured you about the cold, had you not had a knitted blanket around you.

‘Bit early for you, ain’t it?’ Jack leant against the door frame, gently smiling when your eyes met.

‘What’s early when you haven’t slept yet?’ You aimlessly joked.

Lifting up the blanket, you silently gestured for him to come and sit next to you. Jack obliged, dropping down beside you and winding a large arm around your shoulder. He pulled you into his chest, placing a kiss on your temple. His warm body was a welcome feeling against the cold of the January air.

‘What’s keeping you up?’ He softly coaxed.

‘I don’t know, to be honest.’ You replied. ‘It’s just been a long week.’

‘I get that.’ His voice was slightly murmured. He pulled you even closer, chin resting on your head. ‘But we’re here now, sugar. I think we both need the down time.’

‘Definitely.’ You said. ‘Plus, the view isn’t so bad.’

The ranch overlooked a large field filled with cows and horses; it stretched out for miles, fading away into the distance into a seemingly endless close. The edges of the green pasture were tinged with the pink of a tonic sun rise, pushing away the dark of the night sky. It wasn’t often that you got to watch the sun come up, and it felt a little refreshing to see a new day come. It was fresh; a clean slate, young and naive, but full of possibility. An ironic thought, given that you and Jack were probably going to lay on the sofa the whole day and order take out.

‘You’re right.’ He murmured from beside you.

‘Are you doing that thing where you look at me when I’m talking about a nice view?’ You peered up at him, thinning your eyes.

‘You said it was romantic!’

‘The first five times, Jack!’ You chuckled, leaning up to press a kiss to his jaw.

‘Nothing is sacred anymore.’

You settled back against his chest with a smile. ‘I like it here.’

‘Me too.’ He agreed. ‘It’s nice to get away from the Apple. Everything over there if faster than a knife fight in a damn phone booth.’

‘And it doesn’t smell of pizza and...pee.’

You loved New York dearly; it had been your home for many years, and it was also where you’d met Jack. But, whether it was your permanent home, you didn’t know. There were some days when it all got so much. The city never quietened down and you could never quite escape it, even in the comfort of your own apartment. Out here, you were worlds away from that. Crickets were gently purring in the distance, and the only other sound came from the rustling of the animals in the field across the road. It was peaceful. Serene.

‘What if we moved out here when I’m done at the Statesman?’ Jack posed, almost as though he were shy about broaching the subject. ‘We could get a couple horses. Maybe a dog. Heck, if you want a zoo, I’ll get you a zoo.’

‘I’d like that.’ You smiled. ‘I mean living here, not the zoo thing - but a dog and horses sounds nice.’

‘Then a dog and horses we shall get.’ He grinned. ‘Oh! I can teach you to ride.’

‘Or I could just watch you do it.’

‘There’s not a single person in this here town who can’t ride a horse.’ Jack said. ‘Unless a pony would be better.’

‘Why not both? We have enough room.’ You reminded him. ‘Maybe we can re-tile the kitchen too. It’s not that I don’t like the green, it’s just it’s...’

‘...dreadful?’

‘That’s a nice way of putting it.’

Because you didn’t live on the ranch full time, neither of you had put too much effort into making it homely. It was liveable, by all means, but the television in the living room dated back to the first Bush administration and the kitchen was a little too lime for your liking. The place had come furnished by the old owners, which had been a big selling point for Jack. He just wanted somewhere he could live whilst he was in Kentucky and this place had been practical. It wasn’t until you and your eye for interior design came along that he realised how retro it was.

‘There’s a hardware store down the road.’ Jack said. ‘We can get a couple hours sleep and head down there later to see what they got.’

‘Maybe we can find something less green.’

‘I sure fucking hope so.’

---

The next morning, you and Jack bundled up into some warmer clothes and piled into the Bronco, heading for the store downtown. The actual city was miles out, but there lots of little local and independent places. There were little cafes and restaurants, as well as farmers’ markets and fresh produce. You had thought about living here permanently before, but you hadn’t verbalised it until Jack had suggested it first. Given everything that had happened in the past, you’d wanted to do things at his pace, but so far, you’d been perfectly in tune with one another. That was a testament to your relationship as a whole.

‘I just smiled at that woman and she smiled back.’ You muttered to Jack, peering up at the store as you headed through the parking lot.

‘And?’

‘I once smiled at a stranger on the Subway and they told me to piss off.’

Jack chuckled, reaching out to wind his arm around yours. He tangled your fingers together, pulling you flush against his side. It was easier to show physical displays of affection here too. He was always a little paranoid in the city, given how busy it was and how easy it would have been to for an enemy to hide. That was another thing Jack did without thinking; taking tiny little precautions to protect you. He couldn’t even begin to think about losing you. And the thought never popped up here. Never. Only in the city, where everything was loud and overwhelming.

The store itself was pretty big - it was good for you, but confusing for Jack. You had Pinterest boards with inspiration for all your hypothetical future houses, whilst Jack couldn’t the difference between ivory and sand. So, true to character, he let you tighten your grip on his arm and drag him towards the kitchen section, eyes wide like a kid in a candy store. You had a green blank canvas to go wild on, because probably would have agreed to anything. It wasn’t that he was a walk-over, or because he was lazy, he was just genuinely terrible at interior design. Introducing him to build mode on the Sims 4 had been traumatic enough.

You didn’t have to decide anything immediately - after all, he’d said he wanted to move out here after he was done at Statesman. That was just as likely weeks as it was years. He did complain about his job giving him a bad back but you also knew that he enjoyed it. It was all he’d known for such a long time, and he’d worked hard to get to the top. Unbeknownst to you, he’d drop it all in a second if you wanted to relocate now. Even if he had the best job in the world and all the money he could ever want, the only thing Jack really needed was you.

‘Where do we even start?’ He asked, brown eyes staring confusedly at some paint samples.

‘We start with the most important rooms - living room, kitchen, bedroom.’ You replied. ‘I’m thinking something midcentury for downstairs. What d’you think?’

‘Midwhatnow?’ His brows furrowed.

You laughed. ‘Midcentury. So think...Bauhaus. Mid 60s sort of thing.’

‘Right.’ Jack nodded, getting a clearer idea. ‘How about you just to point to things and I’ll either shake my head or nod?’

Yeah, that sounded like a better idea.

And so, you began your trek around the store. Your Pinterest boards came in handy, especially for the kitchen - even Jack was grateful for them, because it meant you moved a little quicker. He did die inside a little when you grabbed a huge trolley and began piling it up with kitchen tiles, counters and cabinet doors, and even more so when you casually asked ‘you’re good at DIY, right?’

He didn’t complain though, not once. The sight of you rushing around the store, face lighting up at lamp shades and paint samples, was one of the best things he’d ever seen. Not only because it was hilarious, but also because it was the first time you really planned for your future. There was sort of an unspoken agreement that this was it, and that you were both in it for the long run, but neither of you had made any verbal plans together. You’d moved in together back in the city, but that had happened naturally. You’d started staying over and over more and more to sleep in his fancy Statesman bed and use his heavenly marble bathtub, and you came over one weekend and just never left.

After a few hours, Jack finally had to put a stop to your antics.

‘Okay, darlin’, I think we’ve reached the threshold now.’ He called. ‘We don’t need a new lighting fixture for the downstairs bathroom.’

You huffed. ‘Placing it back on the shelf.’

‘Fine.’

‘We’re gonna have a hard time getting in this car as it is.’ He held his arm out to you, signalling for you to come back to him.

‘I’ll have to come back for the upstairs then.’ You muttered.

‘We’ve gone from painting the kitchen to gutting the whole damn ranch, baby.’ Jack replied. ‘We’re only here for two more days anyways.’

‘Damn. I forgot about that.’ Your eyes widened. ‘I guess we better start today, then.’

This was supposed to be a relaxing weekend.

Relaxing!

And yet somehow, Jack Daniels was stood in the middle of his now half-demolished kitchen, a sledge hammer in one hand and a glass of his namesake whiskey in the other. He couldn’t deny that it had been fun to rip out the cabinets and tear off the tiles. He’d despised the colour of the kitchen for so long that it felt good to finally get rid of them, even if it meant that the tedious process of putting on the new ones came immediately after. You’d gone for simple black and white ones, with some mosaic ones for a...what had you called it? A feature wall or something. Apparently it added character (something he took your word for).

‘So what’s the paint for?’ Jack frowned, taking a brush as you handed it to him.

‘For the living room.’ You grabbed him by the shirt, dragging him out the kitchen.

‘But the kitchen isn’t done-’

‘- I’m bored of the kitchen.’ You said. ‘You don’t mind, do you?’

‘Course not, angel.’ He pressed a kiss to your forehead.

After grappling with covering the furniture up, you and Jack began to paint. It wasn’t too hard of a process; he just sort of whacked it on, whilst you had a much more meticulous process. So what if he got a splash of grey on the light switch? Actually, on second second thought, he should probably wipe that off.

Besides, it only took him five minutes to get sidetracked. The sight of you stood across the room, his red and black plaid shirt hanging from your shoulders, face screwed up with concentration and paint on your nose, was a distraction in itself. It was the sort of moment he wanted to get on a Polaroid, but equally, one that he wanted to savour. He always entranced by you, but sometimes that amplified. You weren’t even doing anything special - just...existing. But that was enough to capture his attention in its entirety.

He didn’t tear his eyes away from you - not until something cold hit him in the face, and a splatter of grey paint nearly hit his eye. The noise of your laughter pulled him back to reality, practically losing it as you doubled over, holding onto the fire place for support. You were lucky that it was his favourite sound but heck, you coulda dumped the whole bucket of paint on him and he wouldn’t have flinched.

‘That was rude.’ Jack folded his arms across his chest. ‘I’m gonna get you for that.’

‘No, you won’t.’

You dropped your paintbrush, suddenly leaping over the couch and sprinting out into the hallway. Trying to outrun a highly-trained government agent (a fact you sometimes forgot) might have not been your brightest idea, but you still managed to breeze past him and skid into the kitchen, almost tripping over a strewn tile as you did.

Jack was hot on your heels, arms reaching out to grab as you circled back into the living room. He managed to snatch you by the waist, pulling you down onto the sheet-covered couch - he was nice enough to use his own body to break the landing at least. You landed on his chest with a thud, still in a fit of giggles as he grabbed your face and planted kisses all over it. His lips were soft and warm, tasting of whiskey when they finally met yours. You tangled your hand through his hair in an attempt to bring him close, as though it were even possible.

You broke the kiss, rolling off of Jack and onto the sofa next to him, nuzzling into his side. The paint you’d managed to get on him was on you now as well, smeared down the side of your face and a little onto his shirt that you were wearing. Not that it bothered him all that much, because the sight of you in any of his clothes was worth a little bit of paint. You had a sort of rotation, where you would steal various garments and wear them until they lost his smell, before dumping them in the laundry and swiping some more. They were always baggy, scented with his aftershave and the faint smell of the leather from his car. When he was away on missions, it was the nearest thing you could get to one of his warm hugs.

‘Darling, d’you think, just maybe, that we should just pay someone to do all this?’ Jack gently suggested. ‘I can have a guy from the agency come in and be done in like three days.’

‘Three days? For the whole house?’ You peered up at him with a frown.

‘Their speciality is rebuilding places after we accidentally blow them up so this will be like a walk in the park.’ He explained. ‘Although, the kitchen isn’t far off. the place is lookin’ as messy as the farmers’ market after sundown.’

‘And Champ won’t mind you abusing Statesman resources like that?’ You teased.

‘The man is so rich that he buys a new boat when the other gets wet.’ Jack reminded you. ‘He ain’t gonna notice.’

‘You have a point.’ You nodded.

‘Besides, they’re better at decorating-’

‘- interior design.’ You cut him off. ‘It’s a house, not a Christmas cookie.’

Jack dropped his head against yours, letting out a groan. ‘You know what I mean.’

‘I know.’ You leant up to press another soft kiss to his lips. ‘I love you.’

‘I love you too, angel.’

Even though it was still a little far off, the glimpse that this weekend had given you into your future meant everything to him. He’d brought the ranch as a place to crash on business stays, and now you were helping to turn it into a home. At one point, he hadn’t imagine having a life to look ahead to or a house to decorate or somebody to love. Even though they were small, everyday things, you’d brought so much into his life, and he was never going to let you forget it.

#i want jack daniels to call me angel please #pLEASE #jack daniels x reader #jack daniels fluff #jack daniels x you #jack daniels x y/n #agent whiskey x reader #agent whiskey fluff #agent whiskey x you #jack daniels imagine #agent whiskey imagine

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ill-skillsgard · 5 years

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Ascent - Bill Skarsgård

Title: Ascent

Warning: 18+ voyeurism/masturbation/language

Description: A collection of scents and scenes strung together by strange sequences of secrecy and surveyance.

A/N: DAMNIT YOU GUYS. This is my 3rd time posting this fic. It will no longer include the image of the sexy Bill look-alike wanking because wE cAn’T hAvE NiCe tHiNgS. Also, please don’t ask me to send the image because I can’t be sure of ages and I won’t be dinged for providing pr0nz to potentially underage people. I’m so sorry. I tried!

ISO: Quiet roommate; preferably female. Males acceptable too if you're cleanly. Split rent loft in quaint & upscale Rosewell neighbourhood with everything included. 1200 upfront first and last and then rent can be negotiated. E-mail. Do not call/text.

I only had 900 dollars on me but I figured if I e-mailed the person that had put out the ad and set up a time to meet the following week then I could earn enough in tips to cover the rest. Easy as that. Breathing became a little less laboured once I sat back on my futon and realized that I wasn't quite as fucked as I initially thought. Then I wondered how in the hell somebody could use the words quaint and upscale to describe the same neighbourhood. Which one was it? Quaint or upscale? How could it be both? All I was sure of was that I had to find a roommate quickly. The new landlord of my apartment building had decided that I had something to do with the junkies shooting up in the storage unit behind the building, as though I had knowledge of it the whole time and failed to make a report of it, therefore, making me part of the problem. But it wasn't just that; this guy was a jackass of ultimate proportions- a seedy little rich momma's boy that had inherited his parents' sense of self-entitlement and strings of real estate offices spanning across the city and surrounding counties. We did not click at all upon first meeting when he made his rounds to see exactly what kind of tenants he would be dealing with. In fact, the moment I opened the door to my apartment and he peered in to see the apparent cluster-bomb that had gone off in my bachelorette pad, he set his sights on destroying me, or at the very least, evicting me. If only I hadn't answered the door in my stained sweatpants and wrinkled t-shirt from a decade ago when my taste in music remained under-developed. If only I hadn't had the day's worth of crusted mascara stuck in the inner corners of my eyes like black boogers. If I had thrown my hair up in a semi-cute messy bun, rolled down the waistband of my stretchy pants and tossed on my only reputable sweater maybe things could have gone differently. But I didn't. Instead, I let him catch a glimpse into the trash-covered world of crooked posters, laundry and pizza boxes. His prissy, Gucci-wearing ass got one whiff of my body odour and my fate was sealed. Whatever though, shit happens. Even if Millennial pretty-boy newbie landlord hated me, I didn't quite hate myself. Sure, I had had better times in my life but there had also been much worse. I was just going through my annual depression when the Summer was long gone and the scent of leaves rotting in the gutters rang in the impending frost. Who wanted to do anything but sit around and play video games or watch TV for six straight hours after work? Certainly not I. I e-mailed the guy living in Rosewell because I had been through that area once or twice and remembered that it was one of the nicer neighbourhoods; its remnants of old city charm and decadent architecture still intact. That's when I gave it a second thought. 1200 for first and last month's rent was not that much, considering the location. My brain caught up with me and I recognized that there would probably be dozens of people replying to the listing and that my chances were diminished to almost nothing. Oh well, I read on and circled more potential ads with the tip of a fresh permanent marker that was starting to give me a headrush. By some grace of luck, I received an e-mail back the next day from the person that had put out the Rosewell advertisement. It dawned on me that I also didn't know whether he or she was a he or a she or a they. It seemed mundane to ask but the person didn't include their name in the reply and their email address was an obscure reference that I wasn't sure I understood. My imagination decided to take a jog and came upon the silly little notion that perhaps this was one of those things when serial killers lure in unsuspecting victims with promises of rent so cheap in a gentle neighbourhood where nobody would think to look for a body. It was classic of me but I couldn't pretend like I wasn't thinking about it. At least death would help put a stopper in my rut. I didn't know what to expect, walking up to the building with a face sectioned off into quadrants- each with their own tiny glass door and artful wrought iron laced balcony. What kind of a person lived inside? Was it a peppy university student with a small dog and a knack for pulling off an active-wear-is-all-I-wear look? Could it be another snotty, uptight rich boy like my fuck-bag of a landlord? Or perhaps it was a nice older lady that fancied her wine and lived in an effortlessly baroque den, lined with books and trinkets from her travels abroad. Either way, I just hoped they approved of me since I had taken the time to shower, put on a bit of makeup and dress like the clothes I owned weren't questionably clean or variably dirty all the time. The door was painted black and nobody could see through the glimmering panels of stained glass that made up an intricate checkerboard of red and blue with two cantaloupe roses coiling up and away from each other, petals agape and ready to fall. I gave the door a good look over with a smug grimace that was just a feint for my awe. The place was definitely too nice for me but I soldiered on and smiled when I heard the door being unlocked. A man opened the door and the scent of wood and something else immediately wafted out like a ghost casually passing by. Not only was he a man, but a looming sculpture dressed in a sagging brown wool sweater that threw me off from my rehearsed speech. He was tall, pale and had such striking eyes behind his glasses that I couldn't quite meet them without feeling some hint of discomfort. It was like somebody had tossed a limp rug on the statue of David the way his knitted sleeves hung loosely around thick veiny wrists. "Hi. Bill," he motioned to himself. "Won't you come in?" "Um, yeah. Sure." The mud room was painted in tarnished blood orange and was home to a wooden rack full of men's shoes. There were trainers with hints of dirt on the toes and soles, leather dress shoes with the fancy gold buckles on the front, more dress shoes, stylish suede ankle boots, and beaver fur lined moccasins. I could taste the transition from the cool Autumn air to the musky inside of the home. The floors were all wood, the banister leading upstairs was carved from another expensive type of tree and the shelving units were solid oak stretching from floor to high ceiling. Every wall was home to some kind of meticulously placed decorative object. But there were also family photos to lend the place a warm and happy glow. Or it could have just been how the sun shone through the clear bay windows. I was led through the house, past a large cupboard tucked beneath the staircase and a small writing desk that was home to a vintage typewriter cased in filigrees of polished silver. It was then I noticed all the framed book pages lining the walls. We entered a kitchen and I was blown away by how roomy it was compared to the tight, warm front that made up the mudroom and what I had determined was a living room that had been converted into a reading room. There was no TV but there was a chaise lounge with a stack of old books reaching up to a cascading hand-carved armrest. "This is the kitchen. The fridge will be mostly yours. I just use the bottom shelf and the crisper on the left. I just ask that you keep your section clean." "Right," I nodded. "The stove is gas, the fireplace is gas... Everything is gas in here. Um... It gets kind of cold in the winter because the electric baseboards don't really work. If you turn them on it makes the whole place smell like burning sawdust. So... You can use a plug-in heater in your room but... Just wear slippers on the floors." "Oh, okay. Good to know." "Uh... Yeah. The laundry room is through there. I also keep my bike back there. There's another rack mount for a bike if you have one." "No, just my car." "Hmm," Bill pondered with a grimace. I bit my lip and hoped that he wasn't biting his lip from derision. He took in a breath through one of the daintiest noses I had ever seen on a man and adjusted his glasses for a moment before pulling them off completely to wipe the lenses on the hem of his brown knit sweater. "Parking can be kind of a bitch around here," he warned. "Yeah, " I chuckled. "I probably pulled around the block six times before something opened up." "You'll have to get used to that... Or just get a bike like everyone else." With a forced laugh, I attempted to hide the odd sense of shame that he had instilled by suggesting that nobody around these parts bothered with silly things like motor vehicles. Fuck, that could mean he was some sort of health nut that would turn his nose up if he saw the types of meals I made for myself and how lazy I could get. Aside from his alarming curtness, Bill seemed to be calm and easygoing. The house was a wooden ladder of a place; stacked with his worldly possessions and Scandinavian accouterments. It was easy to conclude that he was a single man that kept to himself and I did my best to show him that I fit into the same category. Although, it seemed as though he had already decided that I was moving in. He referred to everything as his, mine or ours and led me through the rest of the house like both our minds were already made up. "Here's the room. It's right next to mine. You have an en-suite bathroom. Toilet kind of acts up once in a while and the shower drain is prone to clogging but it's all easy fixes. Oh... And the walls are kind of thin. I ask that if you have guests over in the evening to keep the socializing downstairs. I suppose I can't really stop you from having people in your room but... I do enjoy my quiet." "That's okay. I don't really hang out with too many people," I said. Bill strolled into the center of the empty room, the soles of his shoes hitting the floor echoed off the bright white walls. He had his hands shoved into the pockets of his trousers as he spun on a heel to face me. His shoulders drew up to his ears and for the first time, he cracked a smile. It didn't last long and was accompanied by a shrug of closure. "What do you think?" He asked. "It's nice. I like it. A lot. It's very... Homey." Bill nodded, "yes. So will you take it?" "Uh... You don't have any questions for me? Or anyone else to show the place to?" His full lips set into another grimace as though my question scratched the scab off of a wound that had yet to close. Swallowing hard, I immediately began to regret my inquiry. I should have just been grateful that he saw fit to trust me without so much as delving into my history. "To be frank, I'm not really interested in knowing a lot about you. The less we know about each other, the better. I just need a quiet tenant that won't bother me much and you seem like a sensible woman with your own distractions." "Oh." "I don't mean to sound insensitive." "It's okay. I get it." "You have a job, of course?" "Yes." "Well, that's all I need to know. Just make your rent payments on time and we'll get along." "Not a problem. Sounds good." The entire moving process took a little over a month to complete. I gave my notices where they were due, rented a small truck to pack my things into and drove it across town after handing the keys to the fuck-bag landlord who seemed more than thrilled to watch me departing. Bill had already given me keys to the house and when I arrived the first of the month he was nowhere to be found. Luckily, my possessions didn't extend further than my bed, wardrobe, futon and a couple of side tables that had collected more dust than I thought. After hauling up the ripping black trash bags I had stuffed full of clothes, I tried to decipher a way to get my bed up the winding stairs without scratching the wood or getting myself stuck in a corner. It would have been easier if I had another set of hands and I wanted to clear the halls of all my things before Bill came home and saw the clutter in the front hall. Something told me he was not a fan of mess and I had left a heaving trail all over the mudroom, halls and stairs. With my bed frame already stuck on the first few steps, I decided to sit down and reevaluate my strategy. It was definitely a two-person job that I would not be able to complete on my own. "Fuck, " I cursed as I pulled out my cell phone to make a call to the only person I knew that would be willing to give me a hand; my cousin. On the third ring, I heard the sound of the door opening and footsteps coming through. I was sat on the stairs pouting, my cell clutched to my ear and my breath hitched in my throat. Bill looked up at me from the first-floor landing through the rails of the staircase and smirked at me. "Need some help?" He asked. I immediately terminated the call to my cousin before he could pick up. Shooting up from the fifth step up, I smoothed out the front of my shirt and tried to make it seem like I wasn't about to burst into tears of frustration. "Um, yes. Sorry. I thought I could do it by myself." "No worries," Bill said as he lifted the edge of the bed frame that was hanging off the first step. We dislodged the frame and slowly carried it upstairs but not without a few grunts of effort and sighs when we finally made it to the top floor. Bill's arms were bulging with the strain and when he helped me gently lay the frame down on the floor I couldn't help but stare at the muscles I never knew he had. We had only had a handful of encounters and each time he had been wearing baggy clothes that veiled the true form of his body. Bill helped me bring everything else I had upstairs and once the last of my belongings arrived he evaluated the mess that I would have to organize myself. Half my clothes were spilling out of bags and my furniture was yet to find a proper place. "Well, I'll leave you to it. Unless you have anything else?" "No. This is it. Thanks for your help." "No problem," he nodded with a small pointed smile that brought out a sweetness in his face before exiting the room. I heard the sounds of his footsteps drumming down the stairs but before I had the chance to get to work unpacking, Bill came back. When I looked up at him he had a peculiar look on his face that I couldn't read. It may have been a cross between uncertainty and embarrassment. "You um... These were on the stairs," he showed me what he had clutched in his hand and the moment I realized that the black material in his hand was a pair of my underwear, I paled. "Oh my god," I laughed uneasily. "I'm so sorry. They must have fallen out when I was dragging the bags up the steps. My panties looked crumpled and insignificant in his large hand as he dangled them between two fingers for me to grab. When I caught them I stuffed them in my pocket immediately and blushed even harder than I had when he had come home to see me flustered on the stairs. "It's all right. Could be worse things to find," he pointed out. "I guess so," I chuckled. Bill smirked at me, eyes darting to the pocket that contained the stray panties and gave me one last glance before leaving me to stew in my mortification. Once I was certain Bill was gone, I took the panties out to evaluate just how embarrassed I should have been. The last thing I needed was for my new roommate to have already discovered a pair of my dirty underwear on the floor. They were generic and made of stretchy faux lace that covered next to no ass cheek but I would have considered them to be a good go-to pair nonetheless. Based on visual inspection and a quick sniff, I was assured that everything checked out and Bill hadn't had the displeasure of picking up a pair of my period panties with the permanent stains in the crotch. If anyone had to have found a pair of my underwear I was glad it was a sexy pair and not ones that I had been hanging onto since high school. But because it was a man that had found them, I felt a strange yearning for approval. I thought about what he could have been thinking about for a long time as I set up my bed and unpacked my necessities. It was going to be weird having a roommate.

~*~

Bill was a strange man. Bill had an office in his room and a writing desk stacked with papers and manuscripts. Bill was a writer. When I asked him if I could read something he had written he said nothing. He only peered at me warily over his wire-framed glasses. We were in the kitchen at the same time and I figured it friendly to strike up a conversation. I had seen all of his papers and looked at all of the stuff he had in the house by then and deduced that he had to have been a writer. All I got from him was a gentle shrug of his stately shoulders and a mumble that I couldn't hear. "You're a writer, aren't you?" I continued. "Yes. I suppose, in a way I am." "Ever had anything published?" Bill rapidly shook his head and muttered, "not here, no. Back home... In university. But not here." The subject of him being a writer seemed touchy so I left my line of questioning at that while I boiled water to make tea. I couldn't help but watch him on the other side of the kitchen preparing his lunch because he was comically lanky yet carried himself with graciousness and poise. His side profile was vexing to me as well. It was then that I realized that Bill was not just commonly handsome, but sculpted in a way that I wasn't used to seeing. With a cute boyish nose and arrestive eyes that shone light green through the lenses of his glasses, I felt that old familiar pang of a crush plunging its way from my chest to my gut and all the way down to my groin. He didn't speak much and I hardly ever saw him because he was always in his room with the door shut. I had a feeling that me bringing up his writing had alarmed him into keeping the door closed at all times. It must have been an adjustment for him to go from living alone to having somebody sleeping in the room right next to him. I tried not to make much of the crush but the times that I did see Bill I always tried to stare for as long as possible. He was a mystery to me; a person living in the very same quarters but with a totally separate life that I had no windows into. Bill had pictures of him and a lot of other people that looked kind of like him so I tried to piece together what his family was like without asking him personally. The family photos were all in chunky brass frames and placed in a strategically sporadic way on the wall shelf. There were many books and three different runs of encyclopedic information stacked side by side with their brightly dyed leather spines displaying a prestigious title and the volume number, but it was the pictures that intrigued me most. By the looks of it, Bill had a lot of brothers and a sister. The longer I analyzed each shelf the more I managed to paint a picture of him for myself based on his belongings. There was a photo of Bill next to some other men of similar heights and facial structures, all dressed warmly and huddled together, each with his own version of a charming smile on. It was amusing to see pictures of him smiling since he had hardly tossed more than a crooked smirk my way. I wasn't sure if Bill was standoffish or if he thought me a slob because of the first day I arrived. The house was cleaner than any place I had ever had by myself and I gathered that he liked to keep it that way. I remembered what it had said in his ad about cleanliness. Maybe I had disgusted him. He had been so sold on having me as his roommate but that was weeks ago and he hadn't tried to engage me much since. It didn't weigh heavily on my mind for long. After all, even though I was the crusty definition of a bachelorette, I could put it together that trying to fuck my roommate that I didn't know was probably a surefire way to complicate things beyond repair. And the place was nice. I wanted to stay and I wanted Bill to like me.

~*~

I walked into his room when I knew for certain that he was gone. I don't know why the sudden urge overtook me and steered me to his bedroom door. I opened it and a waft of his scent came over me. It was like fresh cotton and chopped wood or an old book that had been kept in pristine condition. His writing desk beckoned me so I went without hesitation to cast my eyes over the papers on its surface. There were some printed pages full of words with hand-written notes scribbled in the margins. One of the most eye-catching pieces was a mostly blank white page that had been the last of the bunch to be placed upon the altar of his creative expositions.

I can't get enough of the scent that she left behind.

After reading that one line, I snapped out of my mindless intrusion and left his bedroom at once. Why I had gone in there in the first place was a mystery and I was overcome with guilt that pushed me in the direction of avoidance. I felt somehow he would know that I had gone into his room without permission.

~*~

A man from work had asked me out on a date and I stood in the shower vigorously washing the shampoo out of my hair. I was already late and had to scramble to put together an outfit out of what little clean clothing I had. There had been no time for me to do any laundry so I made do with an old sundress that I had worn the shit out of the Summer before, a pair of black nylon leggings with a hole in the crotch and the only pair of underwear that I could find that wasn't stretched out from me wearing them. I had laid out everything on my bed and bustled around trying to find my good face moisturizer and the only high-end lipstick that I had been coveting for the better part of two years. When I got dressed, I had somehow lost pieces of my attire along the way and rushed around looking for the underwear that I had dubbed acceptable to wear out on a date. My phone went off with a notification from my date saying that he was circling around the block again because he couldn't find a place to park. I quickly messaged him back and told him I would be down in five short minutes. Forgoing the panties, I hiked on my nylons and hoped that the skirt of my dress would manage to cover me enough all night that I didn't accidentally flash my pussy while getting in and out of his car. The date was boring and I didn't find myself connecting with him as we had at work. Maybe it was because we were co-workers or maybe it was because he was smiling too much at me the whole time, but I decided to put an end to the night after a dessert and the last of a bottle of cheap wine. When I got home, I shut the door and pulled my vibrator out of my empty underwear drawer.

~*~

In the morning on one of my days off, I stood in the kitchen making myself a pathetic breakfast of two pieces of toast with a slice of tomato and chunks of a too-ripe avocado splattered between them. First I was focused and calm and then suddenly I felt like something had materialized behind me. When I turned around, I let out a gasp as I noticed Bill standing next to me with no shirt on, his hair a mess and his eyes half-closed. "Sorry," he breathed through his nose. "Need a glass, please." I got out of his way and watched as he opened the cupboard that I had been standing in front of and took out a clean glass to pour water into. My eyes were drawn to the burgeoning of hair from his armpits when he reached to the top shelf. Without saying a word, he filled his glass from the tap and then walked back upstairs casually sipping his water. I don't know how he had managed to sneak up on me without me hearing the floorboards protesting beneath his feet but it had happened and my heart continued to race until I heard him enter his bedroom right above the kitchen.

~*~

I had tossed my laundry into the dryer and let it run while I left for work. When I got home my laundry was all folded and put back in my basket. My jeans and work pants were on the bottom, my shirts the second tier and then several pairs of my panties had been folded neatly in halves and placed on top. "Um... Okay," I whispered to myself, lifting the basket off the dryer that was still rumbling full of Bill's laundry.

~*~

A nap was on the immediate horizon for me when I got home from work. I kicked my shoes off as soon as I got in the door and made right for my bedroom. Bill must not have heard me climbing the stairs as I hadn't heard him come up behind me the week before because his door was open and what I saw halted me in my place and robbed me of the abilities to breath or think. There he was, laying on his bed naked with his right hand wrapped around his dick. But it wasn't that he was stroking himself that caught me completely off-guard, it was what he clutched to his nose and mouth with his other hand; the pair of my panties that he had discovered on the floor all those weeks ago when I first moved in. Rooted with panic and intrigue, I covered my mouth and watched on from the third-to-last step at the man taking deep breaths of my underwear while he pulled on his cock and massaged his balls. When I heard a faint groan leave his mouth I felt my floodgates crashing open. The tingle I felt budding from my clit grew so strong that my hands went numb and my face turned red-hot. There was no way that Bill hadn't heard me coming in the door and ascending the steps. But if he knew that I was there watching him play with himself, he didn't acknowledge it. He was in his own world of pleasure, getting high off the fumes that I had infused into the fabric of the underwear he was meddling with his fingers. I wanted to watch him shoot his cum from the tip of his cock but I was so scared that he would see me that I cowered back so that if his gaze did travel beyond the walls of his bedroom, perhaps he wouldn't catch me staring. Another long, deep moan left him and the sound of it somehow filled every sense I had. It was as though I could smell what he was smelling, feel how he was feeling and the taste left behind in my mouth was wetted with saliva being over-produced by my own sexual appetite. I pictured him kissing my clit, pushing my legs back and using his tongue to bore into me, letting it run down, down, down so he could taste every inch of me. A gasp nearly escaped me when I saw him push the crotch of my stolen panties into his mouth. His head dropped back into his pillows and his slow, languid strokes of his cock turned erratic. "Fuck!" He emitted after spitting the panties out and dragging them down his body to wrap around the base of his shaft. "Fuck, fuck, fuck... Mmm, my god." After a minute of every muscle in his body flexing, it looked like he was inches away from coming and I leaned forward with my hand out on the last step to balance myself so I could watch the end result. It took a bit longer than I expected but I watched on unblinkingly until he finally managed to pump out an orgasm that ripped through his body and exited him in a glorious spurt of cum. Then there was another spurt and another, all landing in a perfect sticky mess over his stomach and chest. The sun coming in through his window glittered over his spackled body while a dryness hardened my tongue. I gawked as he moved to mop up his own mess with my black lace panties. What he was going to do next was as much a mystery to me as the last ten minutes I had spent as a voyeur. His cock laid over the top of his thigh and shrunk with each passing second while he rolled my panties up into a ball with his fist. All of his muscles relaxed and he sank further into the bed, closed his eyes all the while my stolen cum-soaked panties remained clutched to his chest like a cross. I could almost smell the musk permeating from the open door. Slowly, I descended the stairs one by painstaking one.

#bill skarsgård fanfiction #bill skarsgard fanfiction #fanfiction #bill skarsgård smut #bill skarsgard smut

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geniuscloud · 7 years

Text

Bad Liar- Chapter Five (JB GOT7)

Surprise! I got sick so I had the day off of work, and had the inspiration to write since i’m so bored! Sorry for mistakes, and let me know what you think :)

***********

Genre: Fluff, Angst, and a little suggestive.

Jaebum/JB (GOT7) X Original Character

Collage/University AU

Warnings: Swearing. May cause slight heart break, and rage towards characters.

May contain: Brief mentions of BTS members.

***********

“So, she lied to you?” Jimin asked, while picking at some chicken while it was on the grill.

“Yeah, it appears that way.”

“Do you know why?”

“I think maybe because we left to the car without telling her. I don’t think that is a huge deal though, but all people are different.”

“Do you think it’s maybe because you two are ex’s and left to the car together. She might have taken it the wrong way, or maybe she doesn’t trust you two around each other alone?”

“Why wouldn’t she trust me?! I told her we’re over, splits Ville, done!” I groaned while slamming my chopsticks on the table.

“Maybe it’s not you she doesn’t trust.”

“Well their relationship isn’t going to go anywhere without trust! Anyways, thanks again for meeting me on such short notice. I didn’t really know where to go or what to do in case they were home. I have a feeling I should stay away from the both of them for a while.”

“No problem at all. Anything to help out a friend,” Jimin smiled.

“I also wanted to say sorry that things didn’t really click as a couple on our first date. I’m just not use to dating and I was really awkward.”

“Hey, it may take time for you to properly see me as a man, rather than just a friend. Don’t take that as I’m giving up though, I want to ask for another chance to see how things go.”

“Oh wow, someone is being a little flirty. Are you sure this won’t make things awkward between us?”

We grabbed our coats before walking along the dirt path across the campus grounds towards my dorm. The air was thick and chilly, feeling a slight frost in the air as we continued our conversation.

“Micah, you’re one of my best friends on campus, and they always say you should marry one of your best friends… Not that I’m saying I want to marry you, but like… I want the chance to at least try to date you because… Well, I mean I.”

“Ha-ha, don’t hurt yourself Jimin! No, I understand what you’re trying to say. I think it’s sweet that you want to find someone who you click with on a personality level. Not going to lie; I want to say something cocky and be like “Oh well since you asked nicely, I guess I’ll give you a chance” but that sounds like a total bitch move, and in all honesty, I’m surprised you even like me. You know you’re really attractive right? Like, you can find someone way better than me? You do understand you’re super out of my league, right? Like 10/10 could be a model, and date famous people.“ I stared at him a little puzzled.

“Do you know you have a natural talent of complimenting other people enough that it makes them feel really awkward?”

“I’m sorry! I’m just really good at tearing myself down.”

“Don’t tear yourself down, you really don’t give yourself credit. You’re beautiful, smart, funny, and you also are extremely selfless. I mean, you’re letting your roommate date your ex. I’d kill someone before letting that happen to me.”

“That’s a fresh wound you just picked at Jimin, fresh wound” I gulped, still regretting letting them date. I made my life almost 100 times more difficult because I couldn’t admit the fact that I still have… I mean that I had feelings for JB.

“Sorry. Anyways I better get going, I’ve got to be early for work in the morning. Stop by the shop when you have a chance. I’ll have an iced coffee and a blueberry muffin with your name on it.”

“You sure do know the way to my heart… Through my stomach.”

“Ha-ha, have a good night!” Jimin smiled walking off across campus in the other direction. I waited until he cleared around the other side of the building before pulling on the door handle to the lobby of the dorms. I shuffled around my purse looking for my keys, but they were nowhere to be found. I pulled out my phone and debated calling Amie. It was late and she was probably still mad at me, but I needed to get in so maybe I should call her anyways? I decided just to not bother her. Instead I just called my parents, but they didn’t even answer. Of course not, it’s 11:56pm, they’re probably all asleep. I debated for a moment and then decided to call up someone who was defiantly still awake.

“Hey Youngjae! How’s it going?”

“Good, I’m just playing some video games. How about you?”

“Could be better… I have a favor to ask. Can I crash at your place? I got in a bit of an issue with my roommate, she needs space, and I left my keys in my room so I can’t even sneak in.”

“There are currently 6 dudes in one house, are you sure you can handle it?”

“I’ve slept there many of times before, I don’t see how this is any different,” I asked.

“You had the protection of one of the guys before, and you had JB’s room to sleep in so you were protected from wild beast-like boys.”

“Youngjae, you act like your house is the jungle during mating season and I’m the only female for miles.”

“I was talking about pranks… If you sleep in the living room Bambam or Yugyeom are definitely going to try and pull something on you,” Youngjae said. I could physically hear his confused blinking through the phone. Sometimes I forget that Youngjae is actually really innocently minded and usually looks for the best in others. “Actually, JB isn’t coming home tonight. He said he’s staying with Amie, so I guess it’s a trade for a trade. You can just sleep in his room for the night, he won’t mind.”

“Oh… Okay, well I guess I’m on my way” I mumbled.

The bus ride wasn’t all too long, and Mark met me at the bus stop with a flashlight, walking me back to their place. Mark and Youngjae were playing games together, while almost everyone else was asleep, including coco, the little white dog who was fast asleep upside down on the couch.

“We’ll be up for a little longer and then we will head to bed. You can stay in JB’s room, and if you need clothes he just did laundry so you can just pick something out to wear to sleep,” Youngjae offered.

“How insensitive are you? You can sleep in my room, I’ll stay in JB’s room for the night. I have some clothes you can borrow as well,” Mark huffed.

“It’s okay, I can sleep in his room. There is no need for you to do any of this. We’re still friends, it’s okay.”

“Are you sure? I want you to be comfortable. You haven’t slept over here in almost 2 years.”

“Thanks for your concern, I’m okay Mark, really…” I assured him.

“If you change your mind just come get me, even if I’m sleeping.”

I thanked him one more time and walked into JB’s room. Not much had changed. His blue walls still met the same dark wooden floor, decorated with the same old shag carpet from his home. He still had black bedding, and everything was still in the same place as before. The only thing that really changed were the photos and a few decorations. I glanced over some of the photos on his desk. He had pictures of his parents, the guys, and other friends that I recognized from outside of our circle. On the bedside table he had a picture frame that sat empty and picture-less. It was a little odd, but he was probably waiting to fill it with a photo of him and his new girlfriend.

I tipped the frame down and tossed my purse on the table before walking over to his closet. Automatically I grabbed a black cotton shirt and grey sweat pants and put them on before walking to his full-sized mirror which rested against one of the walls. I looked at myself in the eyes, seeing the dark circles peeking out after I washed my face. I scanned over my body, seeing the sweatpants drawn up tight over my hips when I lifted the shirt. The black shirt cascaded over my shoulders, nodding at the fact that this shirt was meant for someone much broader in the back, especially since the shirts shoulders had actually been stretched a little as well. My eyes met back at its own reflection, seeing my vision blur a little at my tears which were now starting to build up. I asked myself why was I crying, but I already knew the answer. I was wearing the clothes I always wore when I stayed here. When we cuddled for hours and talked the night away.

It was automatic for me, something that had felt natural. I was wearing the clothes that contained so many memories for me, but now ultimately felt more of a burden to me. The clothes that once were a sign of comfort, were now a sign of feelings that shouldn’t exist. I felt like I was forced to let go of everything, and the way the shirt would brush against my torso now felt like nails against my skin; like I was a sinner, because I was wearing something that no longer was welcomed on me. Every part of my body wanted it off, wanted the feeling to stop. The feeling of pleasure and comfort were not mine anymore, and an immense amount of guilt started to build within me. The worst part of it all was that there was a part of me that wanted to lay in his bed, wearing the clothes I always had, and suffer, because there was a part of me that didn’t want to let go…Didn’t want to admit, that it was over, and the left place on his bed wasn’t mine anymore.

“Mark…” I called out into the living room.

“Yeah?”

“Can I sleep in your room tonight instead?”

“Do you need my clothes too?” He asked.

“Yes please.”

____________

When morning arrived, my eyes were met with a foreign room. Pale walls, white bedding, and the smell of clean laundry. I shuffled out of the room to see Jackson and Jinyoung in the kitchen, the only two who were awake at the moment.

“Oh, Micah. I didn’t know you were here? Where is Mark?” Jinyoung asked.

“Mark slept in JB’s room, I crashed here because I locked myself out at night, and I had a little problem with Amie…”

“She wouldn’t open the door for you?!”

“No, I didn’t want to bother her while she was angry with me. She needs space so I thought I’d give it to her.”

“Wait, so where is JB then?” Jackson asked.

“He’s uh… At my place with Amie.”

“Oh boy,” Jinyoung rolled his eyes.

“Morning” Mark mumbled, rubbing his eyes while crossing the living room.

“Good morning, thanks again for letting me use your room, and your clothes.”

“No problem,” he smiled. We were all sat at the table when the front door swung open and closed with a loud bang.

“Morning guys!” JB cheered walking in, “Oh hey Micah, when did you get here?”

“She got here a little after midnight” Mark replied.

“Oh, you stayed the night? Why didn’t you go home?”

“I left my keys in my room and I didn’t want to bother you two,” I muttered.

“So, you decided to stay in a house full of irresponsible guys instead of going to your own home?” JB started to sound a little annoyed.

“They’re my friends too; they said I was welcome, and I just was trying to be respectful of you and Amie. Fuck sakes JB, just because we aren’t together doesn’t mean I’m going to hoe myself out to my own friends.”

“I didn’t say that!”

“That’s what you implied though, right? Just because I’m not dating you doesn’t mean I’m low enough to try and hit you where it hurts and start going out with people who are basically your brothers, and my friends. The only person who’s low enough to go after someone’s friends… is you.”

“Woah, I wasn’t saying any of this! You’re blowing everything out of proportion now. By the way remember that you were the one who gave your ‘almighty blessing’ for Amie and I to start dating. You said we could still be friends, but you’re actually kind of acting like an asshole right now!” JB yelled.

“I said we could be friends, but I guess I was wrong. I wish I never fucking fell in love with you.”

“Micah, stop. You don’t mean that…” Jackson muttered grabbing my arm.

“No, I do mean that. Falling in love with JB was the worst mistake I ever made in my life. I don’t regret being friends with him, but catching feelings for him was a problem on my behalf. I shouldn’t have been so foolish.” I looked at him dead in the eyes, pure anger written on my face. I wasn’t going to cry, and he knew it too. My face wasn’t showing any signs of sadness, only pure fury. I started grabbing my stuff and headed out the door. That’s when I think something clicked for JB, as I tracked down the walk way, I saw JB in my peripherals running after me.

“Micah, wait!”

Silence.

“Wait a second! I’m not letting you leave like this, you’re my best friend. I fucked up, okay?! I know I did. Can you please just come back inside so we can talk about this?”

I was so angry I just kept walking, and after about a block or two, JB gave up. There was nothing he could do right now to make me change my mind.

When I arrived at the dorms I saw one of my neighbors leaving the building, and noticing the opportunity to get into the building, I started running. “Hold the door!”

Luckily, she heard me because she held the door and waited, “You lost your key or something?”

“I left it inside, but hopefully my roommate will let me in.”

“Oh, by the way there was one of your friends sleeping in the common room last night. The guy with black hair, and the two moles by his eyebrow? Uh your singer friend that goes to the neighboring university? Your roommate kicked him out of your room last night probably because you weren’t there. I think he was looking for you though, also she was pretty mad at him, woke up the whole floor.”

“Oh? Well thanks for letting me know. Have a good day.” I was a little confused as I started marching up the stairs towards my dorm. When I got there, the door was already unlocked. It was still early In the morning so I opened the door with caution, only to find Amie sitting on the couch looking probably the worst I’ve ever seen her.

“Uh hey…” I greeted.

Her hair was a mess, she was wrapped in a blanket, and her under eyes were dark. She looked as if she had been crying, but as if the tears had run out. “Are you okay?”

“No, I’m not fucking okay!”

“What happened?”

“I was with JB last night, and I was trying to start something with him but he was really reluctant. At first, I thought maybe he was just nervous, but we were making out and he fucking moaned your name; are you happy now?” She shirked.

#Bad Liar GOT7 #got7 #got7 scenarios #got7 fanfic #got7 reactions #jb #jb got7 #jaebum #im jaebum #im jaebeom #mark tuan #jackson wang #park jinyoung #choi youngjae #bambam #kim yugyeom #park jimin #bts

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batesmotel · 7 years

Text

Ferb A: Bates Motel Final Fan Fic

Norman slammed the trunk of the car before looking around the Bates Motel parking lot. It was empty. Nothing but leaves scooting along the empty gravel space. His eyes shifted towards the office where he spent so many hours of the past five years of his life. Going through the mail, typing up the motel newsletter, making coffee every morning and all his manager duties. The many times he stood behind that counter and greeted his guests with a smile as they signed the guest book. How it felt to hand over that room key. He was somebody. This motel made him someone. From student to employee, to manager and to owner. This motel has seen it's days long before the Bates moved in but, it saw it's best days these past few years. They made this place into a home. Mother made this place a home and together they built this little paradise. The motel helped them just as much as they helped it. Norman reached up to place his hand on his chest where his Manager pin use to sit. He would always trace the letters with his finger and feel so proud of himself. He remembered his first day. Norman Bates was so excited he wanted to make such a great impression. He had a sense of real responsibility. He wasn't sure how many different blazer combos he went through. He had to look the part right? It was representing this motel and his mother. When he didn't feel the pin there he felt this sort of emptiness fill his chest. His eyes skimmed down the line of room. Each one held it's own story. Each one had a customer that Norman would never forget. Gunner and his band of stoners, the spooky man in Room 9, the lovely family who had the puppies, Annika Johnson, Alex Romero, Marion... He could go on. They were gone and they wouldn't think of this place ever again. The sun was slowly making its way down the sky threatening to disappear at any moment. Norman could hear the soft song of birds as he walked across the driveway. Entering the office he looked around a few times. The smell of coffee and freshly sharpened pencils lingered. It was nice. His hand moved along the front desk and over the guest book that hadn't been touched in many weeks. He remembered the last person to sign it and she would always have a spot in his brain. Moving his way into the back office he let out a heavy sigh. He remembered when this place was filled with boxes upon boxes of dusty old files and old photos and newspaper articles. Norman had completely gone through all of them and turned those dusty boxes into a few simple little files. That contained the history of this place along with those old photos that new sat in the filing cabinet. Turning his head he smirked a little when he saw that old picture on the wall. The peep hole behind it had been filled in and now it was just a regular old picture. He dropped his head as visions of what he's seen on the other side of that wall popped into his mind. He got that chill as he flipped off the light and made his way back to the front office. Reaching out he hit that switch and the Bates Motel light flickered on. The low hum of it's lights was all he could hear as he stepped out into that still evening air. A deep breath left his lungs as he watched the sign bring life to this place once more. Closing his eyes he could still hear the sounds of his guests. Cars pulling in and out of the drive. Dylan sitting over there in that empty chair enjoying an evening beer. The sounds of children laughing and the TV's turning on just loud enough he could slightly hear it from his post behind the desk. "It's such a nice place you have here." "We've been driving for hours so glad we found you." "You're really cleaning this place up kid." "Our stay was wonderful." "I'm going to give you a good review on Yelp!" "Thank you Norman Bates." It all made him smile till he opened his eyes and it was just him. Norman made his way up towards the long set of steps that reached all the way up to that damn old house on the hill. The windows lit up looking alive as he climbed those steps. God how many times did he run up these stairs? If these damn steps could talk. The time him and Dylan had to carry Mother's mattress all the down to the dumpster. He stopped and looked at the faint stain where Shelby bled out all over the place. That time Dylan slipped on the frost and nearly broke his neck. That time Norman gave Emma a piggyback ride all the way up because she was having a bad day with her breathing. The fights that went on, on these stairs. The hugs that happened. The stories that were told. How many times he sat there on that step and just had his Norman thinking time. "She can't do this! She can't leave me!" "Norman let her go!" Climbing that last step as he crossed the porch he reached out and opened that front door. The moment he closed it he was met with complete silence. This house has never been that quiet. There was this twist in his stomach and he had to take a moment to get a grip. Norman looked to his left into the living room. That old fireplace and that couch where he spent many evenings watching TV or reading or doing his homework. Norman stepped further into the room and his hand moved along the back of the couch. Feeling the material against his skin he gave a small smile. The room was dim except for a small light on the side table in the corner. The walls that were filled with photos were now taken down. Removed. Norman looked at that piano sitting in the corner and for a split second he thought he could hear it play. His heart skipped a beat as he remembered that time Mother forced him to sing Mr. Sandman with her. Their many duets and he couldn't count how many times he sat there with her as she played. Trying to teach him here and there but he could only manage to get Twinkle Twinkle Little Star just right. She was the piano player in this family. Reaching out he debated hitting a key and decided against it. The last sound that piano would make was the last song Mother ever played. Instead he moved his hand to the left and turned the light off. Norman walked down the short hall into the kitchen. Dishes use to stack high in the sink and on the table. Piles of old newspaper stacked on one of the chairs. The counter wasn't cleaned. The stove was a mess with pots and pans littered all over it. The fridge was empty and the floor hadn't been swept. Norman let this place go and he was ashamed of that. That's why he took it upon himself this morning to clean every inch of this kitchen. Just how she wanted it. Just how she left it. He could hear the sizzle of the frying pan and the smell of pot roast in the oven. The table was set and decorated with fresh flowers. He could hear that hum as Mother moved along the room. This was her work space. This was her happy place. It made Norman smile before he turned to head down into the basement. The basement flooded with light with that flip of the switch. Norman's steps echoed as he climbed down those old wood steps. Looking around the place was pretty dusty but Norman didn't touch too much down here. Just his work space and new repaired furnace on those chilled evenings and the freezer. Looking over his work station everything was cleaned up. A faint dust rested upon the table's surface where his taxidermy equipment use to sit. Boxes of old junk filled the shelves and after all these years Norman never touched any of it. Opening the freezer it was now warm as it had been shutoff. None of the freezers worked anymore and there was still that old yellow caution taped strung here and there. That sickening crime scene tape that only made his stomach burn. There was still some of his creations hiding down here. They would be left behind. Just as Norman was about to leave he stopped seeing a dusty book just under the step. Curious he reached down and pulled it from it's hiding spot. Blowing the dust off the cover it was that old taxidermy book Mother had gotten him years ago. He wondered where it had gone. He felt his heart swell as he exited the basement and turned the lights off one last time before shutting the door. He walked past the laundry room that was all cleaned out. Passing the kitchen he set the book down on the table before going upstairs. He was met with the memories of all those fights they had. The stomping of steps met his ears and the shouting echoed around the house. "Norman please!" "I don't trust you anymore and that changes everything!" "Stop it Norman." "The game was we were devoted to each other. That no one could ever come between us. We loved each other more than anyone could love another person." Norman could hear it all. The crying and the slam of the door. These doors slammed a lot in this house. The stomping of steps and the anger that would fill the upstairs. Norman was met with his bedroom door wide open. Standing in the doorway he skimmed as everything looked to be in place. Bed was made. The desk was cleaned off. The bookcase was empty. He could still hear the pitter-patter of Juno's paws as she ran through the house. How many times was Norman confined to that bed? After one of his blackouts or being sick or after being stuck in a box for a few days. The room still faintly smelled like books and laundry cleaner. Norman looked at the door connecting the two bedrooms. This door still didn't shut or lock right ever since he broke it that one day. Despite the upstairs having so many horrible moments it had it's good. Norman turned off the light and shut the door. Walking by the bathroom that smelled of bleach he went to Dylan's old room. It was kinda how Dylan left it except Norman did go in and straighten things up. Few things on the walls. Mainly pictures of cars and hunting photos and girls. Random football and gun magazines on the floor. He left behind a couple shirts and a hat or two. Norman gathered up the left behind trash and tossed it into the bin near the door. It had that Dylan musk mixed with dust lingering in the air. Dylan... "I'm a man now not her little boy and I wanna be a good man. I trust your judgment if you think this is the right thing to do. You're my brother, you know? I wanna be there for you. We're a family and we love each other we'll work through it." "Get her back, Dylan! Get her back!" "Calm down! You have to!! She's coming back!" "She's not gonna come back! She hates me! She hates me Dylan and it's all your fault!" "Please, Norman.. Everything I've built with Mom, it'll, it'll all be destroyed." "You wouldn't actually hurt anybody though, would you Norman?" Norman stood in the doorway of Mother's room. The last room in the house he wanted to be. The light near the window was on and there was this welcoming glow to it. Hands in his pockets he stepped further into the room. This warm air wrapped around him and he could smell her perfume. Norman closed his eyes and got lost for a moment. He could feel her. Her arms wrapped around him so tightly. Pulling him in for a hug as she kissed his cheek. He could feel her warm embrace as she ran her hand through his hair. That smile on her face. A smile that was burned into his mind. That bright beautiful smile of a woman who was finally happy and finally at peace with the craziness around her. A woman who overcome everything life thrown her way. She was a warrior and she was his hero. "I love you, Norman." "I love you too, Mother." "You mean more to me than anyone in the world." The voices echoed in his head she was still there. Smiling brightly at him as she took his hands and gave them a firm squeeze. There was this bubble building up in his chest. This emotion was building and it was making it's way into his throat. "Hey.." Her voice was soft and comforting. "You're a good boy, Norman." She bit her lip and thought for a second. Norman's misty eyes were focused on her as she spoke so softly. "You're everything. Everything to me Norman." She leaned in and pressed another kiss to his cheek. "There's a cord between our hearts." Those memories of that night on the lake came flooding back to him at her words. He couldn't form any of his own at the moment as tears fought to fall from his baby blue eyes. He suddenly didn't want to let go. He couldn't let go. He couldn't let go of her. That familiar pull and power she had over him all these years was slowly creeping back into him. His hands grasped hers tightly and she gave him a sad smile. "It will be okay. Got it? YOU can do THIS." Norman softly nodded his head and she pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth as she playfully added. "Now get the hell outta here." Norman's eyes flew open and frantically looked for her. The bed, the closet, near the window, behind him. She wasn't there. His hands shook as he brought them up to his face. Taking a moment to collect himself. That warm embrace he had felt was gone. The smell of her perfume was no longer in the air. It just a still room that held so many memories that were now put to rest. Forcing himself he crossed the room and turned the light off. He took a second to brush his hand over freshly washed bedspread. The silence in the room was making his ears hurt. Looking over towards the closet where all her dress use to be.. You can do this Norman. With that Norman walked out of the room and shut the door behind him. Making his way quickly down the stairs he dropped by the kitchen again. Reaching out and collecting the book he had set there. One last look around he gave a firm nod. As he headed for the front door he stopped suddenly. There it was. He could hear that old record player turn on as Bobby Darin faintly filled the house. There it was again. That pull. That desire to stay with her. His hand grasped the door handle and he got his grip again and walked out of that old house on the hill. Locking it up behind him he could still hear that old tune as he climbed down the stairs. The sun was nearly down casting the sky in this pinkish orange. He looked out at that parking lot, the Bates Motel sign lit high above. The For Sale sign stuck just below the No Vacancy sign. He would never see this again. His heart pounded so hard in his chest as he made his way towards the car. Tossing the book in through the window. "We came here to start over, I am starting over." "We've been through a lot and this is our chance to start over." Norman Bates looked up at that old house that had been his home as well as his prison for the past years. Piling in this damn car with whatever it could hold and moving to White Pine Bay was an adventure. A town full of weirdos who at first didn't welcome the Mother and Son but then found them worthy to be apart of their community. Moving here and running this motel was a fight for survival, a fight for acceptance and a fight to succeed. Behind all this fighting was just a family trying to find their place in the world. Trying to start over and along the way only grew strong and bigger. Many had doubted them and they hit a lot of roadblocks. This wasn't your average family. Just a confused, loving boy and his Mother trying to make a life for themselves. Sure this rundown motel and that old house might have seen it's share of tears and blood and bodies but also laughter and undying love. This old house. This old motel. Was just a spot on the road but it was a dream. It was her dream. "We own a motel, Norman Bates!" A few tears fell from Norman's eyes but he quickly brushed them away. Suddenly he couldn't hear that old record player anymore. No longer could he feel the soul that had been dancing her heart away in that old house. For the first time in his life he was alone. Truly alone. Mother was gone. Giving the Bates Motel sign one last smile Norman climbed into his car and pulled out of that drive way, never looking back. The End..

#bates motel #batesmotel #fanfic #final season #tv #aetv #norma #norman #psycho

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yesterdaysdreams · 6 years

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40 Fabulous Graduation Gift Ideas

Graduation Gift Ideas

With my baby brother graduating this year, I was stumped for gift ideas. Although I tried to remember my favorite graduation gifts, let’s just say my memory was a bit rusty. Plus, my one of my favorite gifts was a camera that took actual film (ah, the good old days)! Times have definitely changed.

So I turned to YOU! We {heart} our Facebook fans; you are a plethora of creativity! I asked for the best graduation gifts ideas you’ve ever given or received, and boy did you respond. So with your help, here are 40 fabulous graduation gift ideas that are gender neutral and perfect for every grad in your life!

Money/Gift Cards for Graduation Gift Ideas

Although impersonal, money and gift cards can be exactly what a poor new grad needs to tackle the big world. On the other hand, if you’d like to be a little more creative than just a bill tucked in a card, check out these creative ideas!

1. Money rolled in a tissue box

Take out the tissues in a tissue box and roll up bills instead. Then add a cute saying and you will quickly alleviate any homesickness.

2. Write a check for their graduation year

While a check written for $20.17 might get an initial quizzical look, it will be followed by a good laugh. You definitely get points for being creative. Bonus points if the check is for $2017.00.

3. Dave Ramsey’s “Graduate’s Survival Guide”

So many of you raved about this gift set that I am tempted to get it for myself! In a world ruled by credit and over-spending, many new grads can find themselves drowning quickly. Give them a head start by learning about credit cards, part-time jobs, and student loans.

4. Shell Silverstein’s “The Giving Tree” with a surprise inside

Once there was a tree…and she loved a little boy. If you’re tearing up already, this poem turned into a book about friendship, sacrifice, and generosity is the perfect gift for your special grad. Stick a few surprise bills inside and they have a gift to treasure forever.

5. Gift cards to local restaurants

One of a mother’s significant worries, among many, are “Will my child starve?” Give your grad a few gift cards to local eateries where they will be going to college or settling down.

6. Grocery store gift cards

Just enter any college town grocery store and they are milling with malnourished students hovering around the ramen noodles. When living on a tight budget, a grocery store gift card can be a lifesaver.

7. Gas cards

Another necessity for every new grad. Give them a gas card with the expectations that they are to visit home often!

8. Gift card to the college store

If you know where they are going to college, help a new grad buy those over-priced textbooks, or get some fresh new collegiate gear to wear on game day.

9. Movie tickets

The post-high school dating scene can be tough when you have about $5 to your name. Give your grad a slight advantage with two movie tickets for a special date night.

10. Stock shares

A creative and smart investment, buy your new grad shares in a company of their choice. They will love having ownership and watching their money grow.

Practical Gifts for Graduation Gift Ideas

They may not be the most exciting or glamorous gifts but guaranteed your grad will appreciate those gifts looong after the tassels are turned and the caps tossed in the air.

11. Luggage

Our Facebook fans’ number top gift recommendation, so many of you share the tradition of gifting luggage for graduation.

12. Toolset

This gift was one of my personal favorites and many of you agreed. Getting a toolset, although lackluster at first, has come in “handy” throughout life.

13. A car kit with jumper cables:

This gift, plus a free lesson in basic car maintenance, is perfect for both guys and girls headed out on their own.

14. First aid kit with medicine

We all want our mommies when the slightest sign of the sniffles hit. But when mom’s not there, what better than a first aid kit loaded with medicine to treat every ailment.

15. Cookbooks

Don’t let them use “I don’t know how to cook” as an excuse for fast food three meals a day.

16. Cooking lessons

If you combine this gift with #15 above they will {hopefully} avoid that freshman fifteen.

17. The Pampered Chef Micro-Cooker

Many of you raved about this little cooking beauty that made dorm cooking so much easier. For $20, a novice chef can cook a gourmet meal right in the microwave.

18. Scentsy warmer and scent packs

Dorm rooms literally stink. Mask the musk with a plug-in warmer filled with delicious fragrances that will smell like home sweet home.

19. A nice set of clothes

For job interviews, work, or formal engagements that require a professional look.

20. A quality backpack

A person could count toting around college books as their daily workout. Those things can be heavy! Therefore a quality backpack is a must for any college-bound grad.

21. Global Positioning System (GPS)

Many smartphones already have them, but a GPS is a great idea for anyone heading out for adventures of their own.

Gift Baskets for a Graduate Gift Ideas

Gift baskets are fun to give and fun to receive. Plus they are loaded with really useful stuff!

22. Laundry gift basket with quarters

There is a reason why this is one of the most popular grad gifts. It is packed with every laundry supply you could imagine–towels, detergent, fabric softener, dryer sheets, bleach, stain removal, and especially rolls of quarters for those laundry machines. (Many schools now use student cards as payment, so check with the school first. You could also load money on the card for laundry.

23. Food essentials kit

Because moving out on your own can be overwhelming. So make the transition easier by stocking that new grad up with all of the food essentials he or she may need.

24. Kitchen essentials kit

Dish towels, dish cloths, scrub brushes, dish detergent, utensils, plastic plates, bowls, glasses, etc., and maybe the caution: don’t put dish soap in the dishwasher (not that anyone ever does that!).

25. Bathroom essentials kit

Towels, washcloths, bathroom cleaners, *shower sandals (for those nasty dorm showers), shaving gear, shampoo, conditioner, shower gel, toilet paper, toothbrush, toothpaste, makeup for girls, etc.

26. College supplies kit

Notebooks, a planner, pens, gum, study snacks, energy bars/drinks (for procrastinating studiers), stapler, three-hole punch, calculator, white-out, etc.

27. Themed gift baskets

“Things that stick” (3M hangers, super glue, gum, etc.), sports themed baskets (golf, basketball, football, wrestling, track, motocross, swimming, tennis, dance, etc.), state themed baskets (based on where they are moving to or going to college), beach themed baskets (flip flops, beach towel, sunscreen, frisbee, sunglasses, etc.), candy bar basket with sayings (“You are a real Starburst!”, etc.), fan themed baskets (favorite professional or college teams), fruit themed basket (everything strawberry: soap, lotion, drinks, treats, etc.), Starbucks themed basket, Movie themed basket (favorite DVDs, popcorn, soda, movie treats), hair themed basket (great if going to Cosmetology school), picnic themed basket, and much, much more. The possibilities are endless!

College themed basket: includes apparel and gear from their new school

Sentimental Gifts for Graduation Gift Ideas

These gifts come from the heart and are treasured forever.

28. Special quilt or afghan

Because everyone needs something to snuggle in while they are far from home. Many of you agreed that a handmade quilt was and is one of your greatest graduation treasures.

My dear grandma made this for my graduation. She cut out blocks from some of the shirts my dad wore when he was a boy. It is one of my prized possessions.

Even if you don’t have the time or know-how to make a quilt, a nice, comfy blanket is a gift everyone can appreciate. Love this Graduation Gift Idea!

29. Photo books

Include pictures and personal messages that document just how far they’ve come.

30. Keepsake boxes

If you are the sentimental type that saves everything from their first kindergarten watercolor painting to newspaper clippings that even mention their name, then give them a keepsake box. We LOVE these memory boxes.

31. “The Places You’ll Go” by Dr. Suess

Congratulations! Today is your day. You’re off to great places! You’re off and away! Best graduation book. Ever.

32. Monogrammed gifts

Including towels, pillow cases, money clips, etc.

33. Digital picture frames or memory books:

Then load them with pictures that will remind them of friends, family, and all of the great times.

34. Letters from friends and family

Have close friends and family write a special letter to the graduate that he or she can read throughout life. Put them in a special book or memory box.

35. Postcards addressed to you, redeemable for homemade cookies

When I went off to college, I dearly missed my grandma’s homemade cookies. Send your grad off with postcards that they can mail back to you anytime they need a little home baked goodness.

Splurge Gifts for Graduation Gift Ideas

Life is too short not to spoil them just a little, right?

36. Travel

Take them on a special trip to Europe, DC, or a destination of their choice. The memories made will last a lot longer than any physical gift will.

37. iPad/laptop

38. A nice watch

39. Special lessons

Maybe there is something they have always wanted to try…flying lessons, culinary arts classes, professional golf lessons, etc.

40. A special valuable coin

One reader’s grandfather gave him a special gold coin that has multiplied in value today. However, he will never spend it because it is too special.

Graduation Gift Ideas Perfect for Any Graduate

Hopefully, you’ll find something on this list perfect for your special grad with these 40 Graduation Gift Ideas. And feel free to share any other brilliant ideas for the perfect graduation gift!

If your graduate is leaving the nest, make one of these awesome message boards out of a pair of old shutters for them to display cards/letters from home.

You can also help your grad stock his/her dorm room with some great stuff from the dollar store. See our tips for what is actually worth buying at a dollar store, and what to avoid.

Another really meaningful gift for your grad – whatever their age – is a “Box of Love” filled with cards and letters from loved ones. Find out how to make one here:

The post 40 Fabulous Graduation Gift Ideas appeared first on How Does She.

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lady-luka99 · 6 years

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Space has a plan for you.

Pidge always wondered if space planned her becoming a paladin ever since her father and brother left for the Kuberos mission. Shes always thought she was the one living in her brother and dad's shadow , that she'd never do anything remotely impressive compared to them. It only takes her waking up to Keith and Lance fighting like brothers and Shiro being the typical space dad one morning and an old family photo to realize how much space had changed her life since they left earth.

One shot Song Fic based off of Swedish House Mafia's song "Don't you worry child"

Read on my A03: http://archiveofourown.org/works/12714762

Pidge POV

I remember my life before they left .

The early mornings when i used to wake up to my father shaking me awake , id always wake up to his happy smile and bright eyes whilst he tried to coax me out if bed with the promise of waffles and ice cream . Wondering down the stairs to my mum singing to 'Dont stop believing' in the kitchen. Matt running after our dog Rover , who's stolen a random piece of Matt's robot and started to run around the house with it thinking its a toy with Matt racing behind shouting with a handful of dog treats trying to trick Rover into letting the robot go. Dad sat drinking coffee and completely ignoring to Matt's protests at Rover, sat on his favorite armchair reading out random newspaper articles regardless if everyone whether they wanted to hear them or not. Its a weird morning routine but i wouldn't change it for the world

I still miss those mornings. Even though mornings in the castle are equally as entertaining, it never compares to the familiar of mornings i loved at home. My mom's homemade waffles were replaced by Hunk making different 'foods' out of the space goo , Matt and rover’s shenanigans were replaced with Lance and Kieth yelling at each other over the stupidest stuff in the early hours of the morning. This mornings argument was about how Kieth's jacket and t shirt somehow made its way into Lances wardrobe after laundry day and Lance hadn't mentioned it until Keith found him wondering around the castle in his t shirt.

"Why would you keep it?. Red isn't even your colour " I could hear Kieth shout

"Why cant it be!. I'm controlling red now , so i thought id give it a try become one with her" Lance retaliated , both boys getting progressively louder trying to drown out the other.

"NO RED IS MY THING LANCE. HOW WOULD YOU FEEL IF I RANDOMLY STARTED WEARING BLUE .... OR YOUR JACKET!"

"You wouldn't dare Mullet....."

I could hear their voices getting progressively louder even through my headphones.

The only thing that sort of resembled life back home was Shiro , who could always be found on the couch sipping coffee with a look of pure frustration , reading the ships space log as he listened to Lance and Keith argue on and on , but never bothering to actually stand up and split them up. Some mornings listening to Keith and Lance's stupid arguments was funny , but mornings like these, where i especially missed my family and wanted to cry i just collected some of Hunk's food goo from the fridge , plugged my headphones back in and listened to 'Don't stop believing' as i wondered round the castle back to my lab.

...................................................................................................................................................................................................................................

It was the photo on my lab wall that finally made the lingering tears flow.

It was taken a week before they set off . We'd been searching for new alien frequencies on the hill near the lake in our village when he told me about his and Dad's mission to Kerberos. I remember how exited and proud he sounded as he layed back onto the grass and rambled on about what an amazing opportunity this is and how exited he was to see more of space whilst doing something he loved. But the more he rambled about this amazing opportunity , the more negatives were building up one by one in my mind. We were all so proud of what he's accomplished in the space of the year; he made it into the Garrison, created a new code for communication, passed his scientist training with flying colors and even became the garrisons youngest to ever go on an extended mission ,along with Dad and another cadet named Shiro.

I couldn't take away everything hes trained a year for from him because his little sister had a few doubts about her brother and dad leaving, but inside my heart broke soon as they stepped onto that spaceship.

I didn't want anything to change , i wanted things to stay how they were. I wanted to wake up each morning to my dad's happy smile , the smell of waffles and my mums singing coming from the kitchen , being met by Rover's playful barks and Matt's laughter as I tottered down the stairs . Sure everyday was a routine but it was the routine I've become conformable with . The morning after they left for Kuberos was the only morning i didn't want to leave my bed. The photo always made me cry , it just had to much emotion behind it .

I was meant to be a paladin of Voltron , a legendary warrior who puts everyone before themselves and protects the galaxy selflessly everyday. But one piece of paper could reduce me to tears - guess i haven't really grown up from being that little girl who cried for hours the day they left.

Since they left i've kept and tinkered with small pieces of their belongings , i've even tried to re-construct Matt's Garisson communicator just in case i could hack into their communication system. I was never able to get the right parts to amplify and unscramble the signal on earth, but now i'm surrounded by altean tech i'm so happy i brought my box of trinkets with me.

Dad always said i had a thing for tinkering and messing with things I shouldn't , which somehow made him call me the family "techy little gremlin" , even though i hated the nickname at first it was settling now that my dad saw so much potential in me , even from a young age. He always said space had big plans for me, I've always expected id be helping from down here on earth at the Garrison or something but i guess the space had different ideas.

I guess he was right , space did throw huge plans at me.

I definitely though i'd changed from the little Katie i'd left on earth , the girl who was too shy to show off her intelligence because she didn't want to stand out or be judged . The girl who masked her intelligence behind frilly dresses , long hair and sarcastic comments . The girl who never thought she'd even make a dent in science compared to what her brother and Dad were doing , so never showed anyone outside her family her inventions.

Well now i'm looking at the same little girl in the mirror only with a new haircut and a pair of glasses , 2 years later.

I've done my best to become a different kind of girl , id become Pidge Gunderson. The super geek who could hack random robots whenever she wanted and always had the perfect sarcastic comment under her belt whenever needed. Pidge Gunderson, paladin of the green lion . The photo on the wall reminds me that i can never let Katie Holt fully go , she will always be a part of me and its taken me a few years to realize i never actually wanted her to disappear.

He was right space has big plans for me. Space had plans to turn me into an improved version of Katie Holt , a girl who wasn't afraid to speak her mind or show off her intelligence. A girl who could rule the world with just her intelligence.

Id wondered back into the common room for some fresh air , all those screens and junk in my lab made it difficult to think straught, but I still kept the tattered old photo clenched between a closed fist as i heard Lance and Kieth still bickering in the other room along with Shiro failing to try resolve their stupid argument. Even tough it was different than back home , this everyday routine made it seem like we've already conformed into family roles:

Allura was the serious mum who was secretly really sweet if you got her on the right day or did some random chores around the cattle

Shiro was of course the dad who tried to be serious but was really one of the kids, he always tried to teach us how to resolve arguments but usually ended up in the muddle of them.

Hunk was like the protective older brother we'd definitely all die without , he was one of the sweetest people id ever met and would drop everything they were doing if one member of the team was upset.

Lance is most like Matt out of all the paladins, he'd constantly have really bad puns he'd spout out even at the most inconvenient times but they'd always leave everyone laughing. Hes definitely the most protective over me other than Shiro when were on missions or when random aliens get to close. Hes always the first one to ask me about new inventions or if he could help with anything.

Keith's like the emo cousin that you don't really know too well until you manage to hit a common ground, which funnily enough for us was conspiracy theories (We know your out there mothman!). Then they end up being really funny but still have a short-arse temper. He always has to one up the eldest cousin (Lance) and would threaten playing his emo music way to loud around the castle if anyone annoyed him. Lastly , Coran was the weird uncle with fabulous hair that let you get away with too much behind your parents backs.

They all made me feel like i was with my family. Space has big plans for me , but those plans brought me into a group of people I've grown to love and admire , a group of people id now happily call my family away from home.

Even though now i had another mix matched family in a totally different world and i went by a different surname, i still had the mind of a Holt and i was gonna save the world with it.

#voltron #vld #vld text post #klance #pidge gunderson #vld pidge #katie holt #takashi shirogane #vld lance #pidge and matt #pidgeangst #song lyrics #spacekids #random songs #vld keith #keith kogane #keith (voltron)#voltron pidge

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marylcony · 7 years

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Story of how I almost died and returned in time

After spending few wonderful days cruising in Halong Bay and resting at the beautiful coast of Cat Ba Island, completely different experience was ahead us. Mountains of breathtaking north region famous as "Sapa".

Sapa is actually a city lying among of hills and terraced rice fields. Views there are supposed to be breathtaking, although the city is quite often hidden in the fog. Nevertheless, this part of the Vietnam is truly a special experience.

I was looking forward going north probably too much. Too much excitement is never good and I ended up with travel sickness. My stomach was floating, I spent quite a lot of time at the toilet, plus I was really weak after not eating at all. And 8 hours bus ride to the mountains ahead! Moreover the bus company we took was the disaster itself.

The deadly bus ride

Not only they sold more tickets than seats, so some tourists ended up lying at the floor between the seats, the bus driver decided to stop for each-one passing by. So, once the driver spotted someone standing near the road, he stopped and asked if he/she needs a ride. Can you imagine how annoying it was? Luckily for me, the bus has a toilet so I was rescued.

The sickness wasn't unfortunately getting any better so once we arrived to the Sapa, I was exhausted and my stomach still dangerously floating. And the idea of trekking whole day made it all just worst. Fortunately, our local guide was just sweetheart. Unfortunately I don't remember her name, but she was sister-in-law of Mao, who is probably one of the most famous guides in Sapa. She comes from Sapa minority called Black Hmong. We were to soon find out, that these people are the most sincere, generous and friendly people we have ever met.

Lets call our young guide Susie, I slightly remember, that could be her English name (cause the Vietnamese one was impossible to pronounce for us). First of all, Susie took us for a breakfast. You cannot start the whole day trekking with an empty stomach...Ha, what an experience the breakfast was! If you weren't at the market in Sapa, you didn't see anything in your life!

Trekking in Sapa- dying in the mountains

Let's get it straight. You can choose almost every meal there! And I mean it. The smell there is not any better and you can imagine what it was doing with my stomach. So I just went with the plain rice together with my mother. My resilient father had some strange looking meat and soup, which he told us tasted awesome. I was looking tired at my rice and couldn't imagine how I would make it that day...

Soon after we started our trekking. Me, my mum, dad, our local guide Susie and one American girl. She was nice, maybe too much talkative and all cheer up style, but I put all my energy focusing on my survival. Days before when I was organizing our trip in Sapa with local travel agency from Hanoi, I chose the harder trek for us. The easier one was supposed to be full of tourists. Now, feeling like a complete shit, I was cursing myself for that choice.

The beginning of the trek was the hardest. To reach the mountains and the small villages there, we had to climb up first. And it was really just climbing steeply up. Fortunately Susie soon understood my condition and made a lot of breaks but we had to continue to make it till the dark.

Honestly, I really thought I am going to die, especially at the beginning when climbing up. I didn't take any photos just focused on my steps and try to restore my last energy. Finally, after about 2 and 1/2 hours we made it up, reaching some hill on the top, so we can enjoy beautiful scenery. The temperature wasn't so hot and there was a little breeze so I managed to breath steadily again. I wasn't able to make photos still, but at least I was able to enjoy the scenery and view.

The best Pho Chay of my life

After the short break we continued walking towards our lunch. Vision of lunch made me little bit more optimistic and maybe I started smiling a little. But only till we met some local children. They were barefoot, wearing some dirty old clothes, selling some colourful bracelets. They knew some few sentences in English like "Buy from me”, or “Three for two". Heartbreaking. I must confess, I felt sorry for them although I knew that it is not right. Our guide Susie didn't seem to be anyhow distracted by them, as it was a common part of her reality.

After some time we reached our lunch stop. Building in the middle of the mountains with sheet roof and colourful plastic chairs. Locals together with tourists enjoying their lunch. Honestly, I was little bit suspicious at the beginning, but the hunger was stronger.

I chose a vegetarian Pho and we shared it with my mum. It was a huge bowl with a tons of veggies and rice noodles, so it was more than enough for both of us. And, it was so delicious! Seriously, it was the best Pho Chay I have ever had! Hot, fresh, delicious taste and smell. Wau.

Susie, strongest girl I have ever met

We spent about an hour there, eating and resting a while, our young guide Susie chatting cheerfully with other locals, mainly tour guides as well. As I became later understand, Susie was somewhere about my age, 25 or something, married to the brother of Mao, so far no children, working as a travel guide in Sapa and learned her English only from the foreigners! Wau. I was amazed. Her English wasn't the best neither fluent...but still we were able to communicate, have a decent chat and she understood almost everything! It was unbelievable.

Susie was dressed in the national costume of the Black Hmongs, consisting of rock, blouse, everything in dark colours with beautiful embroidery. Everything of course made by hand. They dye the fabrics themselves with some local herbs, which is why they have constantly little bit blue fingers. Every time we made a break for a while, Susie took out some fabric and did embroidery.

She was making her a new scarf, never resting a while. I cannot forgot how beautiful she was, the combination of friendly playful eyes full of kindness and warm, welcoming smile. She was supposed to be around my age, but I could feel from her eyes, she's much more mature than me. I felt little bit ashamed- how I am pitting myself while my life is so much easier than hers!

Returning in time...back to my grandma stories

The lunch and great meal gave me little bit energy, so I was able to start chatting with our company and look around me more. We reached the top of some mountains, going more straight than up. We were crossing some rice fields, local villages or rather say some colonies. I had a feeling, that I returned in time. I felt like in stories of my grandma, when she was telling us, how it was in the first half of 20st century right before 2 WW, when she was young child.

“We were 9 children, but only 3 of us made it till adulthood. We didn't have too much, but luckily we had a huge garden, grew many vegetables and fruits and bred poultry and pigs. As children we didn't have any shoes, we went everywhere barefoot, there was no washing machine at that time, so we made laundry in the nearby river or stream,” her tales resonated in my head. It was like I was living my grandma stories. People in the north Sapa were living the life from her stories...

The simple house of love and joy

We reached the house of Mao, where we were supposed to sleep in the night. I must say, I was so happy, tired and nostalgic at the same time. Looking at my mum, I knew she was having the same thoughts about my grandma stories as me. She has passed away just 2 years before and it was still a heartbreaking and sad memory for both of us. But being there, in the Black Hmongs village, somehow didn't make it sad, but on the contrary. We became quite cheerful, greeting with Mao and her old parents.

Mao and her parents immediately started taking care of us. They brought us warm fresh herbal tea and water and showed us their amazing ad beautiful handmade products. Scarfs, jackets, rocks, blouses, all sewed, dyed and embroidered my themselves! They also showed us handmade jewellery, which was done by the old man. They didn't know too much of English, but we understood each other.

I was amazed in what humble but still beautiful place they live. Their house was completely wooden just the roof was from the asbestos wavy sheets. With the no thermal insulation between the roof and the walls, we were shocked, how they can make it during the winter, when the weather drop down normally to minus 5 degrees Celsius or maybe more. Their house may looked simple, but it was nice, tidy, with traditional style, western toilet and shower with even hot water.

Later that evening we had a wonderful dinner prepared my Mao´s niece. She was just 15, but prepared the whole dinner by herself! And I must confess, even after the stomach sickness, I couldn't resist the delicious food. Mao and her family didn't want to have a meal with us but we encouraged them to join, so we can eat, talk and enjoy the time together.

Unfortunately we had to say goodbye to Susie, cause she had to return home and still had about 10 km walking ahead! And there I was, complaining about my feet to hurt. After the meal, we shared our home-made schnaps we brought from Slovakia and laughed a lot. It had crossed my mind at that time, that no origins, country, language, nationality, culture or religion is important. When it comes to basics, we are all the same. Just humans, earthlings from one planet.

The darkest darkness and sky with too many stars

Tired from the whole day adventure and sickness I went to bed quite early together with my mum. I felt better but weak, so I better got myself a good rest. We slept right under the roof on they comfortable mattresses with mosquito nests. I fell asleep easily and fast, waking up in the middle of the night with strange feeling in my stomach. And it was a total dark there! Normally, your eyes get used to the dark after some time but...here was just more dark! I made some light with my phone and went to find out bathroom with my mum.

It was a funny experience, cause first, my mum almost fell from the ladder which led from our bedroom downstairs and made a huge noise. Than, I wasn't able to find the exit, cause the main entrance was locked. Luckily we made it to the bathroom just in time. And there I saw it! Actually not at the toilet but outside on the sky! The most beautiful night sky in my life. So many stars! I have never saw so many stars in my whole life. It was then I realized in what kind of light smog we live everyday.

Wondering around rice fields in the rain

In the morning another surprised was waiting for us. Delicious pancakes with local honey and delicious sweet bananas. And of course local herbal tea and coffee. The ideal way to start another trekking! Because it was our last day in Sapa and we still felt little bit tired from the last day, we decided to take it slow. Just some wondering around nearby villages, we visited some rice fields, local church and got completely wet from the sudden rain.

We stopped for a lunch in one restaurant on our way back down to the Sapa town. The restaurant had a small terrace but due to the rain, we were sitting indoors. Right in middle of the living room and bedroom of the owners. There was a big wooden bed without mattress, small wooden chairs, wooden table, big TV and of course WiFi. You get use to this very fast in Vietnam. They may have small and simple houses, but you bet they all have big TV.

After refreshing vegetable Pho, we headed down to the town. We were sad our Sapa journeys had to end, but we were more sad, that we had to travel another 7 hours with that horrible bus company again! Fortunately my stomach sickness seemed to be much better and we found a nice cafe in Sapa town to have a rest in.

While waiting for the bus and resting, we were tired and so full of new experience, that I had a feeling that it would take me at least a week to process everything. But you know, we were traveling and many other exciting places were waiting for us. And honestly, I am not sure, if I have processed it already, even 6 months after our journey. But one thing I am sure: I have to return to Sapa again! If you are ever going to Vietnam, you cannot skip this place either! Because, you know, in Sapa time has stopped and magic happens...

#/.#./;'#Vietnam #vietnameseculture #sapa #Vietnamsapa #sapamountains #blackhmong #ASIA #vietnamesejourney #marylcony #travelcony #travelling #traveller

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