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sicparvismorrigan · 3 years

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Long Last - Chapter 14

Friends. Foes. Lost treasure. One Samuel Drake.

The librarian is in too deep to back out now, and higher stakes means further to fall.

Uncharted/Sam Drake/Post-U4

Viewpoint: 3rd person female OC

Warnings: language, Sam and Chloe do be droppin them swears

Word count: ~23.2k (14 Chapters) [incomplete]

Finally I’m back y’all! I missed Sam, Gee and the gang!

Read on Ao3

Chapter 13 | Chapter 15

“Alright, fine.” Georgia chewed on her lip. “On the condition that you, all of you, promise not to leave me alone with her. Not even for a second. She bloody well creeps me out.”

“Fabulous. We’ll run lines, practice a little, I’ll come up with something good.” Chloe nodded her head, looking smug. “I’m going to enjoy this.”

More one-on-one time with Chloe. Great.

“Now let’s crack this egg, hey? See where it takes us to next?” While they were talking Nadine had retrieved the dark red orb from her bag and was unwrapping it again.

“You lot haven’t looked inside yet?” Georgia was surprised, she wouldn’t put it past several of them to simply smash it apart with a blunt object.

Chloe smiled. “Oh, we’ve already opened it sunshine-“

“With some persuasion.” Sam reminded her.

“Indeed, with persuasion, bloody thing was rusty as hell. Broke a few nails prying it open.”

Georgia waited. “Right, and…? What was inside? Oh God, it wasn’t empty?!”

“No, no, no.” Sam took over. “Chill out. So the Romanov Fabergé eggs normally have some kind of hidden surprise. A pendant, a little sailing ship, a clockwork figure, so on and so forth. A separate piece that functions on it’s own, they can be pretty elaborate.”

“But I’m guessing that wasn’t the case this time?” Georgia asked.

“No, this one’s surprise is missing. It’s not unusual, a few of the other eggs are missing theirs too. It has been a hundred years and most of them survived a revolution. Six of the eggs are actually completely AWOL, and have only been seen in photographs from the time period. But they’re out there, somewhere. They pop up in auction houses every now and again. One or two ended up on the black market. You know how it is.” Sam shrugged.

She didn’t know how it was, and she didn’t want to find out how much Sam knew about the black market, so Georgia just nodded and tried her best to look sympathetic.

“However, all hope is most definitely not lost. Missing does not mean gone forever.” Chloe said.

“A-frickin’-men.” Sam continued explaining. “What’s unusual about this one is the surprise must have removed before it was buried in the wall. It hasn’t been separated by mistake. Someone took it. There was a reason it’s this particular egg.”

“So that would have happened before the Russian Revolution, before Nicholas abdicated? Somebody knew a storm was coming?” Georgia mused out loud.

“Right. Backs up the theory that Rasputin is our man. If we’re right-“

“-the Mauve egg was always intended to be a way-marker, like you said, it was chosen for a reason.” Georgia finished his sentence. “Not to be a downer guys, but there’s been an awful lot of ‘ifs’ so far…”

“It’s the best we’ve got, we made it further than last time and everything’s turned up where it was supposed to. I say, we keep following this trail, whoever left it for us.” Chloe insisted. “It’s working.”

“Oh, also this egg’s surprise eventually turned up. It’s on display in a museum in St. Petersburg. It’s a photo frame, with 3 miniatures of the royal family. Cute.” Sam concluded.

“So, we go there?” Georgia asked.

“Not so fast, Peach. We reckon we’ve got one or two stops in Moscow first of all. And there’s just the small matter of what we found in the Mauve egg in place of the frame.”

Nadine passed her a scrap of ancient paper, yellowed, ragged at the edges and with faded ink. There was a seemingly random collection of dots scattered across the surface, some were slightly bigger than the rest. Georgia ran a finger over the paper, feeling the indent where the artist had pressed the nib down into the material.

“We’re a little stumped.” Charlie butted in. “We’ve tried everything, folding it up, shining a light through it like you did back in the library. Sweet eff-all.”

“Russian landmarks?” Georgia offered. “Ley lines? Course of a river?”

“Good guesses, but it doesn’t match up to anything we can find on a map. We tried the blueprints of the Kremlin Armoury, Dormition Cathedral, the Winter Palace, every important building. Nothing works.” Sam confessed.

“I don’t always appreciate this clue-hiders sense of humour.” Nadine muttered. “Just say where the next thing is, is that so difficult?”

“You saw the documents in the library, is it a-ringing any bells, Georgia?” Chloe tapped her fingernails on the enamel surface of the egg, in a rather irritating rhythm. “Did Bessarion also annotate his copies of the Greek epics with random polkadots?”

Georgia chewed her lip again, trying to concentrate as she turned and gently folded the paper in every possible direction. Something was there, at the back of her mind, but she couldn’t put her finger on it. So tantalisingly close, but just out of reach. She knew this, she’d seen it before, but where?

She eventually shook her head. “I’m sorry. I really feel like I know this, but I can’t place where it’s from.”

“Ja, we kind of all felt the same. Like we should know what it is.” Nadine said. “Maybe it’ll come to us.”

“Oh, for sure. Probably in the middle of the night.” Chloe snorted. “Or maybe we should really push the boat out. Let’s get wasted and see if we can transcend. I know a guy.”

“Now you’re talkin’.” Sam grinned at her. “If nothin’ else works…”

“So, what do we do now?” Georgia asked. “Get…wasted?” Right that second, it was awfully tempting, even at this early hour. She could do with a drink, she might even stoop to one of Sam’s cigarettes. Steady her nerves, she must be trembling like a little terrier dog. “Do we have any other leads?”

“There are 10 Fabergé eggs here in Moscow, all in the Kremlin Armoury Museum.” Charlie said. “We thought maybe they could help point us in the right direction.”

“Yeah, but 4 of us on the government’s radar as not-really-here-on-a-travel-visa?” Chloe shook her head. “We don’t exactly fit the bill of oblivious tourists. We gotta be careful.”

“We will be. It’s worth ruling them out, at least. We should check elsewhere in Moscow for this weird dot pattern before we move on. Go back to a couple of the main landmarks.” Nadine immediately buckled down into strategy mode. “We split up. Cover more ground faster, and if one group’s compromised, the others can make a getaway. Volkova and her troops will be expecting us to stick together, at least I would if I was her, hey? It would be a stupid idea to divide our resources.” She finished with a sigh.

Chloe nodded slowly “Then we should do exactly that. Less attention drawn to 2 people than 5. And nobody in the city knows Georgia yet, so it should be her and just one other person checking out the museum. Maybe something will jog her memory. God knows ours remain unjogged.”

“I volunteer.” Sam said, raising his hand.

Nadine glared at him across the table. “Georgia and someone sensible is our best bet, domkop.”

“Hey, what- I can be sensible! Chloe?” Sam entreated her.

“Don’t look at me, sunshine.”

“Cutter?”

“Piss off, mate.”

“…Peach?” He asked her, as a last resort.

“I have to go with the majority, Sam.” Cutter winked at her, and Georgia gave him the tiniest smile back. “Sensible is definitely not how I’d describe you.”

“The goddamn crap I put up with in this here team…” Sam started grumbling unintelligibly, slumping down in his chair.

“Although-“ Georgia spoke up, surprising everyone, including herself. “We did pretty bloody well in Venice.”

“Ja, that’s true.” Nadine said, narrowing her eyes. “You’re an unlikely pair, but sometimes...” Her eyes flicked to Chloe. “I’ll think about it.”

Georgia’s hand went to her side automatically, reaching for her phone. She huffed when her fingers closed around thin air. Silly to be so dependent on technology, but she really needed to do some research. Those dots were important, and it was annoying her that she didn’t have the answer they wanted.

“Something wrong, dear?” Chloe noticed.

“Just missing my phone, I wanted to look stuff up while we were out and about.”

Cutter got up to pass her his phone. “Take it darlin’. I hardly use the bloody thing anyway. The pin is 1-2-3-4.”

“Oh Christ.” Chloe smacked her forehead.

Georgia hesitated. “Will you be alright without it?”

“I’ll offer fantastic insight regardless.” He replied confidently.

“Of course, how silly of me.” Georgia said, smiling at him. She liked Cutter more and more by the minute. She wondered if he always lived in London. If, no, when they got through all this she’d like to take him out for a meal, which might very well consist of pies on rolls scarfed down on a park bench.

In the meantime, it looked like she was about to do a little sightseeing. Maybe she’d even see St. Basil’s Cathedral in passing. That would be a glimmer of light in this whole ordeal. The monument that had convinced her to follow Sam, the picture on her laptop screen urging her for once to not get left behind. She briefly thought back longingly to her lovely warm apartment in Italy, her cat, her drawers full of clean, dry clothes.

Georgia reached over and felt the sleeve of her coat, half-draped over the radiator. Damp, it hadn’t helped that the heating was cut halfway through the night. She was pretty sure the socks she’d been wearing for her hike through the Russian wilderness were actually still dripping meltwater, even after she’d wrung them out in the sink. No gloves, no hat, nothing. They were in her long-vanished suitcase.

Shit. Won’t last long outside without extra layers.

“Sorry to be a pain, but I really need some dry clothes before we head out.”

Chloe’s face lit up. “Oh, hell to the yes. I’ve got just the thing.”

”Frazer, no-“ Nadine tried to stop her.

***

Thanks for reading!

Notes etc at the end of Chapter 1, full notes when I’m done. Oh there’s a thought.

Sorry for the long-ass break in updating this. I’ve been working too much and had to visit family which killed my soul a little. This is my happy place and I didn’t want to write it if I was in a bad headspace. Hopefully updates more often from now on!

#uncharted #naughty dog #sam drake #chloe frazer #nadine ross #samuel drake #charlie cutter #long last #the golden library #my writing #my fanfiction #sam drake x female oc #sam drake x oc #uncharted smut #eventual smut #villain oc #female antagonist

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incarnateirony · 4 years

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I just wanted to say that reading some of your posts about disregarding subtext and wanting queerness in media to be more explicit has really changed my perspective. Sure, queerbaiting is a thing and explicit queer representation is important, but when I watch supernatural I perceive destiel as romantic, way before 15x18, but even after the confession I felt sad, not just because cas died or because I really want dean to reciprocate and I still doubt if he will... cont.

But because I’m not sure cishet people will get it, and if they get it, that they won’t be okay with it. By cishet people, I mean my parents. They’ve watched shows with very explicit lgbt characters before, but only in the past 3-4 years. When they started watching the show they were not in the same mindset and my worry is that since I assume they’ve read dean and cas as straight they will react differently. cont

Part of me didn’t want destiel to become canon because I feared what my parents would think, after 15x18 I still worry about that but I also worry that if they don’t somehow bring up dean and cas’ relationship in the last episode they’re gonna dismiss it, because maybe they didn’t get that the confession was romantic. cont

What I’ve realised is that I care more about cishet people’s perceptions and opinions than I do my own, actually, in general I value what other people think more than what I think. I can watch any movie or show with queer characters by myself and enjoy it but when I watch it with my parents I get second hand embarrassment and I think that’s really messed up.

This is important, and it’s a hard habit to unplug from--heteroconformity is a hell of a drug. But if you look back in history, one very loud message embodies queer culture: FUCK what the straights think.

The only time the straights literally matter is if they’re standing between us and like, human rights and shit. And then they’ll also tell you to be calm and civil and take it like a gentleperson and yet again, fuck that. Which is also one of the reasons I tell anyone that tries to tone police me to sod off. And I don’t care if they carry an LGBTQ card. The most basic gloss of history does show heteroconformity among LGBT people; in fact, it’s a topic Bobo ranted about in regards to Pete Buttigieg--that polished, “acceptable” queer look and behavior can fuck right off into the wind on a pony.

Queer culture is taking what you want. Like, I can not explain, beyond even the obvious with the confession and Castiel’s history and the love and all of it, how irreversibly fucking queer that entire moment was in 18. We licked it. It’s ours. We don’t care. Straights can still try to argue that the “I’m coming out” song means something else (protip, they still do, check the youtube comments, it’s a fucking tire fire), but the point is, their opinion doesn’t fucking matter, and we’re not going to conform or even give bullshit arguments the time of day. Take what’s yours. Own it.

That’s another thing I feel this fandom has done a major disservice to. In the area of roving goalposts on “canon” that are all everybody’s individual nonsense, the endless tire fires, the idea that every argument needs to be silenced, it literally made this fandom shred at building queer text that they couldn’t even accept for the simple fact that it was in fact at that point even text. It wasn’t high visibility text, and yes, we deserved more, but somebody might argue!! Better walk back my point of view to not offend the masters and let them redefine their words however they want!! and then THAT enters the mainstream. which unironically turned into young people shredding queer content on end, questioning how anybody KNEW about intent, not wanting to listen to the answer to that, and ultimately, everybody pikachu facing at 15.18 when some of us goddamn told you for years Berens was fighting to get us there.

Be very careful what digital herd mind coaxes you into doing to your own disservice.

In short: fuck the hets. Lick it. It’s yours. Stop caring about how others perceive you and instead care more about how you perceive yourself and your own value.

Can you imagine if everyone in this fandom learned to stand up and say, wow, that’s queer text and canon. I expect more out of my canon, such as this specific landmark, but this is ours. Imagine. Imagine drowning out all the noise, instead of chasing everybody’s personal goalpost and hearing “gee I hope we go canon for the 17th time this year”. I M A G I N E the P O W E R of not rolling to the hets.

#lgbtqia

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grownups-are-the-real-monsters · 4 years

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(There's No Place Like) Jake's House for Christmas

{I’ve decided to post some Holiday one-shots during this Holiday season!! Leading up to Christmas, I’ll post a one-shot for a few different King Ships so be on the look out!!}

Summary: Cuthbert’s toes were going to break off in a few seconds if he didn’t switch positions but the glittering Christmas lights would never get put up that way. He continued to stand on his tip-toes, pressing the green wire of multi-colored bulbs against their wall.

He glanced over his shoulder to spot his husband digging through the box of dusty decorations with something like pensive curiosity on his face. Almost as if he had trouble seeing the point in decorating at all, which Cuthbert knew was a very likely possibility. It might irritate him if Roland didn’t flash him genuinely warm smiles every twenty minutes.

Fandom: The Dark Tower

Ships: Roland/Cuthbert, Jake/Benny, Susannah/Eddie

Word Count: 6,773

The year of Jake’s 13th Birthday had so far been the busiest one in the Deschain-Allgood household. The husbands had finally managed to gather a regular crowd at their own bar which they’d opened just the previous year (despite all obstacles from outside and inside sources). And just a few weeks shy of Jake’s big day, their old, ‘We’re Homophobic but won’t say it out-loud’ neighbors moved out of the sweet brick house to their right. Roland had helped carry out boxes just to make them uncomfortable one last time. Loving Father and darling son had played an extra long game of catch there in the front-lawn while the old sweethearts ‘politely’ hid their scowls.

From that point on, dead silence was all that came from next door. Roland had been pleased with the idea of having no obnoxious neighbors coming to replace them but just days before Jake’s birthday, a large moving truck rolled down the street. It had hiccupped like an old man before parking up against the Robinson’s old curb. Cuthbert had just enough time to spy on them through the safety of their large Livingroom window before he was due to open their bar for the night. “Young enough to be our kids, maybe.” He’d wrinkled his nose as Jake observed the couple for himself.

“You sure that one isn’t yours, dad?” Jake bumped Cuthbert’s arm and gestured to the skinny long-haired man pushing his girlfriend up the walk-way in her wheelchair. They’d stayed silent again for a moment or two, father and son kneeling on the breaking couch. The neighbor turned to get a box then, showing off a t-shirt which read ‘Somebody who hates me went to Colorado & all they got me was this dumbass shirt’.

Cuthbert and Jake fell into eerily similar sounding hysteric laughter while Roland finally attempted to sneak some glances.

They’d had to order in that night because Roland burned their dinner.

More time began to pass and Jake realized he’d have to save himself from the embarrassment of having 1 one incredibly recluse father and 1 overly-social dad and make the first neighborly move all on his own.

That had been accomplished by playing out in the backyard with Oy on the finest of autumn afternoons. He kept himself busy until he suspected someone on the other side of that wood fence had come out to enjoy the weather. So...

He picked up his catching ball and ‘accidentally’ tossed it over.

What he hadn’t known was that his neighbor, later introduced as Eddie Dean, had been sitting in a lounge chair positioned perfectly for him to get popped in the shoulder.

However, Eddie of New York hadn’t cared. He played about 15 minutes worth of catch with Jake until gathering his girlfriend, Susannah, for a formal family introduction.

Jake didn’t get to hear much of that first conversation they’d had with his Father’s but he didn’t need to. For he’d always had a knack for sensing certain things. What he felt from Eddie and Susannah was an outpour of warmth and determination for life...Jake supposed that was exactly what tied Roland to them so instantly.

: : : : : : : : : Time had slipped through young Jake’s fingers like the fluffy snow which now fell from the gray clouds hovering above the neighborhood. Silver bells were ringing out for Christmas and the upcoming New year.

He passed through the cold, dead eyes of many Snowmen on his walk home from the last day of school. He pulled aimlessly at his heavy coat (old and comforting, passed down from Cuthbert) when he felt a sudden jolt of shock that took a bit of his breath away. He didn’t have to look to know who that was.

There against the white fuzzy sky and curling Jake’s back in a forward hunch was Benny Slightman and his familiar toothy grin. “Merry Christmas Jake!”

“Gee, thanks Benny.” He did his best to hide his amused expression, trying to look back at him as best as he could. Benny shifted and looped his arms around his neck with ease. “Happy Holidays, here’s a broken back.” He huffed yet hiked the slightly smaller boy up to keep steady.

Benny only chuckled happily, he felt the breath on his ear as he wiggled his feet. “This isn’t the way to your house...?”

Jake rolled his eyes as he started to turn around. “Astute observation Benny.” He reached up to move his friend’s hand down to avoid being choked. “I was going to walk past your house to see if I’d run into you and....”

Another laugh. Benny tightened his grip and enjoyed the sounds of crunching snow under his friend’s feet. He nuzzled his face into the dip between Jake’s cheek and shoulder.

Those same snowmen from before, with eyes of dull black, watched again as Jake padded back with a boy caught on his back. They, of course, said nothing but stared one. Sometimes from under knit hats but more often they sported simple bald heads. “I have a question for you, Benny.”

His friend hummed but spoke nothing.

“My dad’s are having this Christmas party tonight.” He shoved the boy farther up his back, gently. “Our neighbors are coming and everything. Do you wanna come?” The slight hiccup of nerves in his voice was obvious only to him.

“Sounds fun to me!”

Jack smiled, holding onto the boy’s legs a bit tighter. ‘Yes. Benny could come. Yes, he could come and play.’

Benny had yet to actually come over to his home. He’d never even seen Roland or Cuthbert--not that Jake had been afraid for such. Benny was purely sweet. Older in years but younger at heart. Jake had no doubt that the boy would be impressed by his fathers. There weren’t very many people in town these days that weren’t. It sounded braggy but Jake took pride in his family. He just didn’t want them to think...-

He’d mentioned his buddy to his parents a few times...at least enough for Cuthbert to insist he invite him over. But for an odd reason, Jake kept on keeping Benny to himself like his own special secret friend. Cuthbert sensed as much considering he gave Jake mini-looks whenever the subject came up. He liked for his son to let-go and behave like a carefree boy and if getting to spend some time away from home with a new friend was the way to this, he’d be ok with that.

Benny sniffled into his mitten as snow continued to flurry down all around them, standing out against the colorful strings of lights around the streetlamps. Christmas was upon them now but would be over just as quickly. Boy boys silently hoped for a long stand-still pause; one to make the Holiday last much longer.

“Wanna walk to the Dunkin’ Donuts for hot chocolate?”

Jake attempted to look back again. “Yeah! I’ll even buy you a doughnut.” He looked both ways once they reached the busy street and allowed Benny to slide off his back and plant his feet on the concrete.

“What did I do to deserve that?” He teased but Jake just shrugged.

“Nothing.” He looked off down the distant right and felt a knot of pure joy hit his gut.

: : : : : : : : :

Cuthbert’s toes were going to break off in a few seconds if he didn’t switch positions but the glittering Christmas lights would never get put up that way. He continued to stand on his tip-toes, pressing the green wire of multi-colored bulbs against their wall.

The humble green tree had been set-up in their living room for a week previous to the day Cuthbert announced he wanted to have a Christmas party. Roland had lifted Jake off the floor to hang the star.

The home--their home--was sort of small but fleshed out with the strapping personalities of the men who’d bought it years ago. It shined during each Christmas season because they had a young boy--who was now a ways past young...

Slowly, he lowered himself down and came upon his husband to kneel next to him. He briefly admired the box which turned out to be filled with the ghosts of Christmas past; macaroni noodle ornaments made by the hands of a boy not too much younger than Jake. “Our son is a teenager.”

Roland scoffed, thumping his hands past several tongue depressor reindeer. His eyes--heavy with sleep--blinked thoughtfully.

“Seems like just yesterday he was following you wherever you went.” Cuthbert gently reached for Roland’s hand. “Remember him walking around the house with your boots on-?” He paused, feeling that memory deep in his chest. “I look at him and I see you, Roland.” He began to rub his thumb in smooth circles against the rough skin of his husbands palm. “Being a father looks good on you.”

“Better on you.” Roland gently slapped Cuthbert’s hand. For a moment they just leaned on each other. “I’m gonna miss driving him everywhere. I already don’t get to tell him stories at bedtime anymore-” Roland shrugged, to anyone but his husband he would only look indifferent but Cuthbert knew he was broken up.

“There’s time left, Roland. Lots. Do you good to remember that.” He kissed him quickly. “We’ve done good. Combing knots out of his hair...taking him to school.” This time he had to stop himself with a purse of his lips. “You’ve come a long way from the boy who told me he didn’t know he could be a father.”

Roland looked a mixture of touched and sad. “I still think about that day I dropped him.”

Cuthbert rolled his eyes but his stomach dropped at the memory-echo of little Jake’s screaming mixing with Roland’s horrified gasps. It’d been shortly after the adoption process. That baby had wiggled his tiny body right out of his new father’s arms and tumbled to the floor. Carpeted but still just about the scariest sound in the world. “That was a long time ago. You wouldn’t ever let him fall again.” He teased but with a genuine smile.

Roland only smiled back, kissed Cuthbert’s temple and continued to sort through the box. Together they separated what was worth keeping out & what needed to be thrown away. Cuthbert’s dancing snowmen were in the garbage pile for two-minute intervals every twenty minutes before Roland finally gave up.

“Bert?” Roland frowned as he watched his husband carry the snowmen into their bedroom. No answer. “Cuthbert?” still nothing. He frowned, hopping up to chase after him.

Cuthbert was rooting his hands through their sock draw and occasionally pulling out a few pairs and folding them together. The snowmen were dancing and singing just at his eye-line. It was obviously very amusing to him which Roland couldn’t help but admire.

Cuthbert’s broken nails caught on threads every few minutes so he’d pull and pull until the thin string would just snap. But on the eighth time he grew a little bit restless and snapped the string. Quickly shutting the drawer afterwards. “Roland?”

He turned to his husband, who was still lazing around behind him like he wasn’t sure how to decorate without direction. He gave him a small smile and walked towards him, putting his hand on his back. Roland looked up at him, waiting for him to speak whatever was on his mind. “Do you think-” he paused for a second before shaking her head. “Never mind, it’s stupid.”

Roland smiled up at him and chuckled. “You say a lot of stupid things, I won’t mind.”

Cuthbert gave him a look that he’d seen a lot of wives give their husbands when they were younger and felt a genuine thrill that he had a husband to be annoyed with now. It was a look of amusement and familiarity. “Well, I was just wondering…” he began again, going back over to the drawers to root around for Christmas socks. “Do you think Jake has something to tell us?” he asked, a little unsure of himself.

Roland cocked his head to the side and looked lost. “Like what?” He asked, swirling an extra mini string on dead lights in his hand. Cuthbert sighed and leaned back on the drawers behind him. Clasping his hands together, he spoke again.

“Well, he’s been spending a lot of time with that Benny kid….” he trailed off, waiting to see the glaze of realization in his husbands eyes but Roland just smiled.

“Yeah, that’s great. Isn’t it? I’m glad he’s got someone to hang out with, I was getting worried-”

“Roland!” he crossed his arms and the corner of his mouth raised into a small grin. “I mean, do you think the boys….”

Roland still had that clueless look on his face so Cuthbert tried to specify with a look what he had actually meant. “….like each-other?” he finished.

“No.” Roland answered, definitively. Just like that. Cuthbert was actually a bit hurt by the quick rejection. He raised his brows.

“That was decisive.” His head shook just the same as the snowmen behind him. “I was only asking because he’s just seemed so happy-”

“Because they are friends.” Roland shrugged.

“Yes but he keeps him away from us-”

“Jake probably doesn’t want us to embarrass him.”

Cuthbert scowled at the contestant interruptions. “Yes but they go down to the woods all the time-”

“And? We used to do that all the time too.” Roland shrugged again which defused some of Cuthbert's anger into laughter.

“We’re married now! We snuck down there to make-out! Don’t you see my point here?” He hunched over to get the last of his hearty laughter out but Roland looked completely annoyed by the whole show. “I’m not laughing at you.”

“Good.” He rolled his eyes, shoving the string-lights aside so he could leave the room.

Cuthbert followed him like a lost puppy, same hurt expression too. “Why is this making you so uncomfortable?”

Roland turned, just now noticing that Cuthbert had stuck an old (probably rusty) Christmas pin through the earring hole he’d first given himself in the sixth grade. He sighed with a soft expression, now reaching over to unclasp the damn thing before it got infected.

Cuthbert just moved back as if burned. The pain that cause Roland was obvious on his face.

“I don’t want to think about him growing up right now, Bert.” His partner’s voice was uncharacteristically soft. There was more to the issue, that they both knew, but it was have to wait for a later period. Now, Cuthbert just brushed his hand against his love’s face and smiled.

Outside the snow pelted down harder and covered their lawn in a cold blanket of slush. The picture of their son’s growth would surely not freeze but the air surrounding their home most defiantly would. So, Cuthbert decided it was time to make some hot chocolate and cuddle with the man he’s been enamored with since they were small.

“You want a candy cane in yours?” Roland asked, as if reading his thoughts.

“Yes please.”

A few kisses and a laugh later, the men were guzzling down their warm drinks and waiting for their company to come.

: : : : : : : : :

'Chestnuts roasting on an open fire, Jack Frost nipping at your nose …’

Benny’s nose twitched almost as if taking cue from the song and Jake thought it had to be the most adorable thing he’d ever seen...He looked back down at his sad little doughnut and sighed. Hot chocolate burned it’s way down his throat while he wondered just what his parents were doing.

The two boys sat in the lonesome corner of the Dunkin Donut’s where he knew for a fact Benny had once spilled a bottle of strawberry milk all over himself when he was nine. The picture of the incident in his mind made Jake want to giggle. Instead, he watched Benny pull his sweater sleeves over his hands and drink tiny sips of his hot drink.

“Quit your looking at me.” Benny chuckled almost self consciously--though he needn’t be--and tried to flip Jake off with subtlety he never had. It only made Jake feel alive with joy; he kept looking. “You can get a cup of whip-cream for dogs, look-!” Benny cast his eyes over at a couple feeding their little furry-friend at the counter. “We should’ve brought Oy.”

Jake loved the way Benny absolutely adored his dog just as much as he did. It almost made him feel like they were part of a little unit. “I think you only like me for Oy.”

Nat King Cole changed to Paul McCartney and Benny bounced a little atop his stool. “He’s a nice bonus.” He chuckled. “But you’re my honest favorite.” Benny leaned in closer over the table.

Jake surprised himself by letting a blush bled into his cheeks. He quickly looked away.

Benny, as carefree as ever, didn’t seem to notice. “What are your dad’s gonna think of me?” That question shocked Jake. He nearly choked on his doughnut.

“I guess what they already think of you.” He finished chewing and swallowed carefully under Benny’s watchful eyes. He wanted more, obviously. Jake pounded his fist to his chest. “I’ve never been very good at making friends, to be completely honest Benny. My parents are pretty happy with you.”

That earned him a smile as white as the snow. “And they haven’t even met me yet!” He struck a bit nervous to Jake in that moment.

Honestly, Jake couldn’t see how anyone in their right mind could dislike Benny. There was so much the boy found to love in his friend--his openness, appetite for fun, his willingness to work hard when there was chores to do. And there was that yodeling laugh of his--to name just a few things. “I have your Christmas present ready for tonight.”

Benny was aglow at just the mention. “Me too.” He tapped his bag, which was currently close to sitting in a puddle. Jake chuckled lightly and allowed himself to admire his friend.

He thought back to the time not so long ago when they’d met. When Jake had been introduced to Benny’s kindly personality. He’d been deeply afraid he would only lose the friendship they had developed so quickly. He’d been a boy who constantly lived in his head and not many kids his age liked him. But surprisingly, Benny had grown quite attached to Jake. Reminding the boy of that John Denver song that Cuthbert sometimes sang around the house... ‘Follow me where I go what I do and who I know. Make it part of you to be a part of me’

Jake let a quick release of air pass his lips in the way Benny used to do when they slept close together at the Slightman household. He was growing attached as well...

“Jake!”

The boy did not jump...not in the slightest. But Benny nearly jumped to the ceiling, it was quite funny considering the man who shouted was just Father Callahan. The man from Salem’s Lot who now lived here in town with them.

He was dusting powdery snow from his shoulders and juggling a few bags as he strolled past the counter (for now) to say hello. It looked like a scene straight from the print of a Christmas card. “Good afternoon.” Jake hopped off his stool to help the man set his bags on a nearby table.

“Oh, thank you.” Callahan smiled, taking off his gloves with an appreciative expression.

“No problem, Father.” He shrugged then looked back to Benny, looking a bit...shy. Which was a bit odd. “This is my friend, Benny Slightman.”

Callahan held out a hand and shook with the boy before digging through his bags. Jake watched him with amusement. “Would you like to come to our Christmas party, sir?”

The man turned, looking a bit touched. “If your parents would have me.” He nodded to himself. “I believe I carry a gift for your Roland in one of these bags.” He huffed.

“I hope you’ll promise not to have one of those long religious debates with my dad.” Exasperation was hard to keep from his voice. Benny looked like he wanted to chuckle but...he held back for whatever reason.

Donald Callahan held up his hands in mock surrender. “I promise.”

: : : : : : : : :

The twenty-three year olds had much more energy than Roland imagined he even had left. He watched--gleefully if you asked Cuthbert--as Susannah and Eddie Dean made their way up the walk to the door.

They were chuckling already, Roland could hear Eddie singing ‘Santa Claus is Coming to Town’. He smiled and opened the door before they could even knock.

‘Life was funny. Sometimes it delivered you two of the greatest friends a person could have. But it also gave you the inability to voice your genuine thankfulness for their being.’

“Merry Christmas!” Eddie leaned in to smack a kiss against Roland’s rough cheek before moving on to Cuthbert. Roland did not have the time to playfully shove him back before Suzie approached with that special little smile just for him.

“Happy Holidays old man.” She smiled and accepted a gentle hug before wheeling herself in the open spot next to Cuthbert’s rocking chair.

Eddie Dean was admiring the tinsel surrounding the kitchen while mixing himself some kind of Christmas drink. Roland watched his friend for a few moments, only meeting his eye when he spilled the eggnog into the sink. He took the time to be grateful that he could share Eddie’s laughter.

“Where’s Jake?” Suzie craned her neck towards the bedrooms. As she did so, Oy padded his way out of Jake’s and scampered over to jump into her lap. He didn’t usually take to strangers but Eddie & Susannah seemed to be exceptions.

“Out with his friend, Benny.” Cuthbert took the same drink order which Eddie handed to him without hesitation. “Think he probably invited him over for the party.” He hushed his voice like the topic was a secret.

From the kitchen, Eddie noticed that with ease as he stirred Roland’s hot chocolate. Standing there in his neighbors--friends--house with his fuzzy snowmen socks pressed against the cold tile, Eddie Dean felt at home. “You ok, big guy?” He slapped the back of his hand to Roland’s hard chest.

The big guy in question wiped down the splash of eggnog he’d gotten on his shirt and shrugged. He would speak nothing of the stirring inside him, that much Eddie knew.

“I brought a classic Christmas movie.” He changed the subject for him, popping some kind of snack he’d found into his mouth. He pulled free a DVD case from his back pocket.

“Star Wars...” Roland squinted like an old man to read “Is not a Christmas movie. Put that away before Cuthbert thumps you.” He chuckled, sipping hesitantly at his drink.

“Star Wars: The Empire Strikes Back, thank you very much.” Eddie scoffed. “It takes place on a snow planet. That’s close enough.” He shrugged. “Plus, I’m still mad at your husband for saying the Prequels are better.”

Roland smiled at the mention of that long debate the two similar men had during their mini Thanksgiving get-together. Eddie had decided the time had come to share his fondness of the movies with his older friends. Jake had gotten a real kick out of watching them go back-and-forth for nearly two hours. “If it were up to me, I’d let you.” He rolled his lips together to taste some more chocolate as he set down the mug. “You know I thought those movies were kind of...cool.”

Eddie chuckled. “You were a real riot, Roland. Something to say about every scene.”

“I just like the idea of...a spiritual force binding us together.” His eyes seemed to gloss over. “One that directs us...has a will of it’s own.” He clinked their mugs together before turning around to join his husband and Susannah.

Eddie pursed his lips together. “I just like the lightsaber fights but whatever.”

“Come on, Eddie! We’re watching ‘A Christmas Story!’“ Susannah called.

“Can’t we watch a Christmas movie that isn’t overplayed like...‘Home Alone’ or ‘Scrooged’!” He pretended to pout. “Oooh or ‘Gremlins’!” He bounced on his slippery socks as he plopped right next to Roland.

“Since when is Home Alone not overplayed?” Susannah rolled her eyes fondly. Delicate flakes of snow continued to fall and press against the glass of the window behind her head.

“And we can’t watch Gremlins, it scares Roland!” Cuthbert smirked and was immediately rewarding with a hard kick to the ankle. The attempt to hush him did not even phase him. Eddie burst into hysterical laughter.

Susannah even fell victim to the giggles, leaning over the arm of her chair to try and conceal it.

“He’s lying. It doesn’t scare me.” Roland thumped his husband on the arm and leaned back on the couch, ignoring his husband mocking him. “Ask Jake.” Cuthbert pretended to nod in agreement but sipped his eggnog suspiciously.

: : : : : : : : :

Jake gulped down his hot chocolate without considering that Benny might be staring at him. Father Callahan went on to his own table with a peppermint tea to finish sorting through his gifts. They could still hear the shuffling of gift wrap and bags upon bags.

“Jake?”

The boy finally set down his drink and wiped his mouth on his sleeve. The foamy residue was erased in a half-second. Benny had to fight away the thought of tasting that chocolate. Deep down there was a part of himself sparring against the naivety which he’d lived with for years. “Should we wait to walk over with Father Callahan?”

Jake paused, noticing the tonal shift within his friend. “We could...” He glanced over at the man before going back to Benny with a gentle grin. “But we don’t have to. He could just meet us all there.”

Benny tried not to look too pleased with that answer but found it hard to stop his shy smile as he hid it behind his cup. He watched as Jake went over to say his goodbye to his old friend with nerves building up.

“We’re good to go.” He threw away the empty cups and grabbed for Benny’s wrist, pulling him out of the Dunkin’ with something like excitement. The touch burned pleasantly at the boy’s skin with hot intensity. For a ridiculous moment, Benny worried Jake might catch the way his pulse was thundering and drop him from his grasp with disgust. He didn’t dare to look at the Father as they darted out.

Together, they walked a little over a block before either of them spoke again. Benny kept his heart to a calm flutter and thought briefly of the Christmas song Jake was crazy for...‘The moon and stars seem awful cold and bright Let's hope the snow will make this Christmas right...’

The snow was at that point, a thin blanket coating the wet ground. It would soon be the same kind of dangerous ice that his Father had despised. It’d make it hard for him to drive to work, he’d complain with a shaking fist.

Abruptly, Jake turned to face him with his nose a bright color to rival Rudolph’s. He pulled softly at the end of Benny’s sleeve, truly making him all the more endearing. ‘My friend the world will share this special night. Because it's Christmas...’

His eyes were glowing like the festive sparkling bulbs across each house’s rooftops. If he knew of the stunning beauty it made him, Jake showed not. Instead, he just kept swaying their arms in the cold air.

“Jake?”

The boy blinked. “Sorry. I was just-” He waved his spare hand by his ear. “I wrote some stuff on your card. But I think I’d rather just say it to you...before we get to my house. If that’s ok?”

Benny raised his brows but nodded quickly. “Yeah-yes. I’m ok with that.” He smiled, kicking himself for sounding so stupid. Jake smiled, looking confident in a way that Benny couldn’t imagine for himself. His heart thumped down to his gut.

“First of all, Merry Christmas.” He chuckled, looking embarrassed for the first time in a while. He wiped his free sleeve against his cheek when hot color blossomed underneath. “I’m glad you’re my friend, Benny. I really needed a good one and you’re the best.” He swayed their hands again but did not meet Benny’s eyes. “I really like you.”

Benny couldn’t even begin to convince himself that he didn’t hear Jake’s special inflection or see the way he’d widened his eyes. “I really like you too, Jake.”

His friend blushed fiercer and let his hand fall from Benny’s sleeve to fully grab onto his hand, interlocking their grip. For a second, the boys couldn’t manage much else but giggling there in the middle of the sidewalk.

“I’ll race you home?” Jake challenged.

Benny smirked and hugged the boy’s hand tighter, their palms were a sweaty and warm relief from the bitter cold. “You’ll have to let me go.” The party seemed a weary idea now compared to their new found discovery. But as the snow continued to poor down on them, Jake seemed suddenly eager.

He hesitantly slipped his hand free and blinked up at Benny with curious eyes before launching forward and placing a surprise kiss against his cheek. He pulled back and stood for a mere second before taking off towards his house.

“That’s cheating, Chambers!” Benny called out, catching a few snowflakes on his lips before chasing after the boy.

: : : : : : : : :

Eddie was curled up against Susannah with a look of pleasant shock at the scene unfolding in front of their eyes.

Cuthbert lounged right onto Roland’s lap and was heavily making-out with the man in such a...relaxed state. Neither neighbor had ever seen Roland so...open or frisky before. The guy was downright playful in the way that he ran his large hand through Cuthbert’s tangled hair and knocked off his obnoxious Santa hat.

Susannah smiled for a moment before throwing the DVD case at their heads. “Quit that, will you?” She chuckled when Cuthbert tumbled onto the floor with a smile. She pretended to ignore her husbands thumbs-up directed to a now more in-character Roland, who was looking stern once again. “Your boy will be home any minute.”

Cuthbert leaned against Roland’s tall leg and grinned.

As if on cue, the front door creaked open to reveal two red-faced boys as they piled into the home, wiping their boots on the mat. “Hey guys.” Jake bounced inside, greeting Oy with rushed excitement. His friend stayed back by the doorway with a shy expression. Eddie waved, hoping to ease the kid.

“This is Benny Slightman.” Jake reached out for his friend from his place, kneeling in front of Oy, and urged him forward.

Roland shifted in the arm chair, both Eddie and Susannah noticed the uncomfortable look on his face. Eddie felt a sudden urge to go over and ask him about it. However, Cuthbert crossed the room to shake the kids hand before anyone could do anything else.

“Cuthbert, Jake’s Dad.” He grinned, the beautiful one of his. He pointed to his Husband. “That’s Roland, his other Dad. Over there are our neighbors, Susannah and Eddie Dean.”

Benny nervously shifted on his feet and nodded. Susannah smiled kindly and was close enough to offer her hand to shake. “Nice to meet you, Benny. You boys want to watch ‘Home Alone two’ with us?” She asked kindly, not knowing this had immediately endeared her to the kid. Benny decided just then that he really liked her.

Jake gave Oy a final pat before stealing a glance to Roland. “Maybe we’ll join later. Benny and I are gonna go exchange gifts in my room.”

Roland seemed to consider the statement with some kind of tension hanging in the air. Nothing necessarily bad...just a bit awkward though for once in his life, Jake didn’t seem to notice anything was off. “Alright.” He took a long sip of his coffee and smiled back when Jake rewarded him with one.

The boy ushered his friend into the other room and quickly shut the door behind them.

“And what did I say?” Cuthbert asked, a smirk on his face but Roland didn’t seem too amused. He looked blankly at the closed door before excusing himself for a refill. Eddie watched Cuthbert deflate and felt a pang of sadness for him.

He got up, Susannah urging him to follow Roland, and went straight for the kitchen to chase the pacing man. “What’s up with you?” He asked, sparing his own look to Jake’s closed door.

“Nothing.”

Eddie rolled his eyes and dug his fingers into an open bag of cookies left on the counter by Cuthbert earlier. He wasn’t the biggest fan of Peppermint but the taste was actually quite nice on his hot tongue. Ignoring his friends obvious attempt to shut down the conversation, Eddie blocked the doorway. “I’m not an idiot, you know?”

“Nothing that concerns you, Eddie.” Roland corrected himself with that special classy asshole tone of his. Nothing couldn’t possibly piss Eddie off quicker than that voice.

“Just when I think we’re getting to be close, you shut me down.” He scowled and swallowed a particularly minty chunk of cookie. “I wonder how Cuthbert feels being married to someone so...”

“So what?” Roland’s wise eyes crinkled with anger.

“So guarded...so solitary.” Eddie flicked his tongue accusingly and nearly choked on the cookie crumbs lingering in his mouth. Part of him found it disgustingly strong and wanted to spit up the remnants into the silver sink. But he held that back in favor of appearing non-idiotic.

Roland huffed and blew past his skinnier friend and treaded his way back to the lounge seat.

“Oh no, Don’t waltz back in here if you’re all worked up.” Susannah’s voice came from a ways off, making Eddie smile despite the annoyance flaring up inside him. He could always count on his wife.

Eddie followed in shortly after and plopped down next to Cuthbert who was looking just as irritated when he leaned over to whisper; “Suzy thinks Roland has some internalized homophobia to work-out.”

Eddie raised a brow. “The dude is married to a man, how can he be homophobic?” He asked, feeling that dreaded idiotic feeling again.

Taking another invisible cue, the doorbell rang and was used as Roland’s next distraction.

Father Don Callahan & a handsome friend entered behind a small pile of Christmas printed bags.

: : : : : : : : :

Benny ran his hand through his hair, feeling through the soft curls. He found that he did that more and more, especially when he was nervous. The heat from just his nerves alone was getting close to unbearable. He shed his larger coat (finally) and placed it awkwardly in his lap.

Though, Jake simply reached out to swipe it and threw it across his bed (blue sheets) with a smile thick with teeth. “Merry Christmas, Benny.” He placed a delicate present (silver wrapping) between their criss-crossed legs.

His hands shook but his smile never faltered because Jake was just about the cutest Benny had ever seen him. He watched nervously as he playfully shook the gift.

Unwrapping slowly, bending the paper under his curled fingers and enjoying that attention…was NOT of his nature. Not at all. Benny tore open the gift with anxiety pouring out of him like sweat.

Laying atop a bed of fluff was one of those spinner rings he’d talked about just a couple weeks ago. It stared up at him, shining into his eyes.

“You said you wanted to try one of them to help with your fidgeting.” Jake grinned before scooting closer to pick it from the bed and hold it out for his friend. Benny slowly slid his ring finger into the cold silver with a warm blush taking over his cheeks.

“I got one with paw prints on it...cause you only like me for my dog, you know?” He chuckled, backing off slightly to watch Benny’s reaction.

“Rad.” A horrible word really. But it was just the one to pop into his mind like a dumb old jack-in-the-box. Benny cringed but quickly laughed it off. “I mean, Thanks, Jake. I love it. Thank you!” He spun the metal and watched the prints blur. “Your turn, now!” He reached into his own bag and handed over a medium sized green box. The red ribbon glittered under the light.

The boys had gone for the same theme, it seemed. Jake pulled free a silver ornament in perfect likeness to Oy by it’s velvety red loop. Though Benny felt a renewed sense of inferiority as he spun his ring, Jake’s eyes light up. He cradled his hands under the ornament with that shy smile of his.

“It’s lame, I know, to get someone an ornament for Christmas...” Benny frowned. “Your gift-”

"It's not a competition, Benny. Besides..." Jake turned back to look at the ornament that was now laying in the tissue paper. "I love it, you know me so well." He chuckled before biting into his cheek and turning slightly, to face Benny fully. He opened his mouth to say something but Benny was quicker to voice his own thought.

“Do you want to go back to watch the movie...?” He gestured to the door.

“Do you?” Jake countered.

No. He did not. Benny really wanted to keep their illusion of privacy up for just a little longer. His heart was doing flips in his chest just at the thought of it. “No...” He giggled. “But I get the sense that you’ll be missed, Jake.”

The boy shrugged. “Ok. We’ll go watch.” They set their gifts onto Jake’s nightstand and went for the door but before either of their hands could curl around the gold, Jake leaned over and gently kissed Benny’s cheek.

It was quick and devastatingly soft. But very, very important to both of them.

: : : : : : : : :

The two boys ended up on the couch with a blanket tossed over them by Cuthbert, only one so of course they had to squish together or else one of them would be too cold.

Jake had somehow found himself with Benny’s sleeping head resting on his shoulder by the second movie. Not that he minded it at all. Benny had a candy cane hanging out of the side of his mouth that he occasionally twirled around. But was now slipping from the corner of his lips.

Roland watched Jake, who was watching Benny, with a feeling of...discomfort(?) that even he didn’t understand.

“Please free that cane before it goes down the kids throat, Jake.” Susannah chuckled. The boy chuckled and when he slipped the red & white candy out, Benny shook himself awake.

“Sorry.”

“S’fine.” Jake grinned and let his gaze linger. Benny looked around for that Father Callahan, who’d been in the kitchen when he fell asleep, and found him basically curled up with that friend he’d brought; Lupe.

Benny widened his eyes. “Is he gay?” He snapped his head over to whisper to Jake, who’d started to cackle.

“Yeah, he is.” He wiped his sleeve across his mouth to settle down. “We’re you worried he was...homophobic?” His brow raised as he remembered how off his friend became in that Dunkin’ when ol’ Father Don Callahan came over.

“Yes!”

The boys dissolved into a privately shared laugh as Oy jumped onto the couch next to them.

Cuthbert plopped down into Roland’s lap and gently ran his fingers down his shoulder as they just watched their son. “Are you alright?”

Roland nodded, pulling his eyes away and towards his handsome husband who was cuddling down next to him despite the limited seat room. It would be annoying if it were anyone else on earth but for Cuthbert, Roland loved like Cupid.

He kissed the top of his head and hid behind it slightly as the intro to ‘Gremlins’ played on their small TV. “I hate you.” He mumbled into Cuthbert’s hair.

He hummed. “I love you too.” He leaned back and kissed Roland’s jaw. “Merry Christmas.”

Outside, the snow had slowed considerably but the ground was not visible under the thick blanket given from the sky.

#used an actual jake quote when he was talking about what he likes in Benny #his openness and appetite for fun etc..#The Dark Tower #my fanfiction #jake chambers #benny slightman #roland deschain #cuthbert allgood #eddie dean #susannah dean #stephen king #holiday fics

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roseyserpents · 5 years

Text

The Best Year of My Life

Summary: you and Sweet Pea are soulmates, but over and over obstacles try to stop you from being together

Warnings: like two swears, mention of sex

Word count: 5,655

A/N: sorry y'all lmao

Posted: February 7, 2020 9:25 P.M. CT

"I'll be over your house later, bye." You smile at Veronica before you both wave at each other and walk down the nearly empty halls save for two or three people to your fifth period classes. You didn't notice the looming shadow over you until someone's arm laid over your shoulders, a smile painted on your lips as you squeeze his hand.

"I was thinking we skip study hall and head to Pop's for a milkshake." Sweet Pea says, taking your books from your hands and carrying them for you.

"As long as you're buying." You smile up at him.

"I was planning on it."

The two of you slipped out the front doors of Riverdale High and walked to Pop's with small conversation and laughs, oblivious to the fact someone had seen your secret relationship. It wasn't as if people hadn't seen the two of you with each other before but as far as everyone else knew it was just simple small talk in the hallway. Sometimes it hurt Sweet Pea that you tried so hard to keep him a secret but every time it happened he saved the conversation for another time. You of course felt bad for it but your family name had already taken enough punches last year; your parents would murder you if they found you with a Southside Serpent.

"I'll go get the milkshakes." Sweet Pea says as you sit down. You nod as he walks away, your face falling and losing colour once you see your grandfather stepping inside and looking around before he approaches.

"Opa, what are you doing here?" You ask, no with your eyes for Sweet Pea to stay at the counter.

"Trust me I'm as happy to see you as you are to see me." He says sarcastically, causing your expression to harden, "But tell me Y/n, what are you doing here during school? I don't believe it would portray us well if our only hope for our future after your brother was seen skipping."

"But who would tell them?" You question, standing up so you're level with him, "certainly not the man who is seeing a woman slightly older than me for sure."

He's silent for a few moments as if trying to figure out his next move, "You've been acting high and mighty for too long. Soon enough you'll slip up and it will be the end of it." With that he walks out of the restaurant leaving you to let out a breath you didn't realize you were holding.

"You okay?" Sweet Pea asks after finally sitting down across from you, passing you your pink milkshake across the table.

"For now." You reply, giving him a smile that doesn't quite reach your eyes. Though your grandfather was older, he certainly still had connection and a burning hatred for his grandchildren that he claimed took the family business from him, and now that your brother was gone that fury was directed upon you. You didn't really believe he was capable of loving anyone, even his family. No, if he had the chance he would without a doubt kill you and make it look like an accident.

You're pulled out of your thoughts by Sweet Pea gently grabbing your hand under the table and giving you a small smile. You return it and push away thoughts of your Opas threat and direct your focus to aiming the straw of your wrapper at Sweet Peas forehead.

The next day the second you walked into school everyone's eyes were on you as they whispered and gossiped in their groups. You were confused but pretended not to notice as you continue your walk to your locker before being pulled aside and into the bathroom.

"What is this?" Veronica exclaims, shoving a paper in your face.

"Sorry, recovering from whiplash, what?" You ask while squinting your eyes. She hands you the paper she was previously trying to put in your mouth and gives you a chance to read it. A picture of you and Sweet Pea walking down the hall from yesterday is the biggest picture in the center with other ones showing you both surrounding it. At the top in bold words reads COUPLE OF THE YEAR

Your face loses colour and your mouth goes dry as you stare blankly at the picture. You clench your jaw and rip it before turning back to Veronica.

"Where did you get that?" You ask through your teeth.

"They're all over the school," She answers, "so you two are together?"

"Yeah." You sigh, running a hand through your hair, "no one was supposed to find out, though."

"I think you should go talk to him." She says, holding your arms. You nod before taking a breath and stepping back into the stares of your classmates who you now realize are holding the same posters that Veronica had. You try to ignore them as you find Sweet Pea at his locker with Fangs looking as if they're having the same conversation you had with Ronnie.

"Sorry Fangs." You say quickly before pulling Sweet Pea into the nearest classroom and closing the door. You're both silent for a while, leaning against desks across from each other as you try to figure out what to say.

"Somebody was watching us." Sweet Pea starts, looking up at you through his lashes.

"Oh wow I didn't realize." You say sarcastically, "the pictures of every date we've ever been on totally wasn't a dead give away. Thank you for clearing up that information."

"I'm so sorry I don't know what to say." He spits back. "There isn't anything I can say. Somebody caught us, oh no. Isn't it really that big of a deal?"

"Yes, actually, it is. This wasn't supposed to happen. Nobody was supposed to figure out!" You yell.

"I realize that you were too embarrassed to be dating a Serpent from the Southside to let even our friends know about us, but just because it might get you in trouble with Daddy doesn't mean you're going to scream at me." You says in a voice just under a yell before standing up and storming out the door. After he's gone you let out a frustrated yell and kick a desk, fighting the tears that sting the back of your eyes. You know you shouldn't lash out on him for something neither of you could control but the panic of knowing your grandfather would find out as news spread and utter fear of what he would do clouded your thoughts.

You walk out a few minutes after Sweet Pea trying your best to look normal in a situation that was everything but.

The day dragged on with people yelling things at you as you walked the halls and whispering loudly behind you in class before finally ending. You're thoughts had cleared enough to let you realize you had screwed up by fighting with Sweet Pea when the two of you needed each other. After school you went and got his favorite candy, a bag of Reese's Pieces, and let yourself into his trailer about ten minutes before he gets home.

The last thing Sweet Pea was expecting after the fight earlier that day when he walked into his house was to find you sitting on the couch. His hard expression stayed and his jaw was still clenched but for a moment it softened.

"Hey," you say quietly, "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have freaked out on you like that."

"Yeah, you shouldn't have." He agrees, taking off his jacket leaving him in a plain white T-shirt and jeans before leaning against the wall and crossing his arms over his chest.

"And I shouldn't have made a big deal about people knowing. I'm in no way ashamed of you." You continue but his expression doesn't change. "And I got you candy."

Sweet Pea pushes off the wall and walks towards you with his face made of stone until you're standing in front of each other. You brace yourself for another fight but before you can say anything he wraps his arms around you in a tight hug, snatching the Reese's Pieces out of your hand. You laugh and let out your nerves as you wrap your arms around him, both of you swaying slightly.

"I'm sorry too." He mumbles into your hair before pulling away to face you.

"Mhm." You hum before pressing your lips against his, a smile on a smile. "I love you, Sweet Pea."

"I love you too." Sweet Pea responds in a whisper deepened by the low sound, his voice vibrating in his chest felt in your own. "I think we should head to bed."

"You think?" You giggle before snatching the bag of candy from his hand and running into the bedroom where Sweet Pea throws you on to the bed and climbs over you, successfully getting his Reese's back. After throwing them on to the bedside table he lays down on top of you forcing a groan as the air escapes your lungs.

"You feel like a boulder," you groan trying to wiggle out from under him.

"Gee thanks." He laughs, rolling off after pecking your lips.

"I mean it in a good way."

"Sure."

Sweet Pea wraps his arms around you and pulls your back into his front, the two of you seeming to curl perfectly into each other. He presses a kiss to your shoulder before settling again, saying a quick "love you" before drifting off into sleep.

That day at school after your relationship had been revealed to every student of Riverdale High and probably spreading to the corners of town you and Sweet Pea walked into school with his arm around your shoulders just like in the picture on the posters with confidence radiating off of you. You ignored the stares similar to yesterday's and continued on as if nothing had happened; which, in technicality, was true. Nothing changed except for the fact you were now in the open. It was a little scary but you believed as long as you and Sweet Pea showed you were strong, no one could touch you.

"So Sweet Pea when were you planning on telling us you had a girlfriend?" Fangs asks as him and Toni approach, walking on the side of Sweet Pea you weren't.

"I was getting around to it," He answers with a half smile, "Y/n, Fangs and Toni, Fangs and Toni this is Y/n."

You give them a warm smile that they return, Toni looking over the boys to talk to you, "I have no clue how you put up with Sweet Pea that much but props to you."

"Honestly, I don't know either," You laugh before turning to him, "I have to go talk to V, talk to you later." You peck his lips before waving to the others and walking off, your hair bouncing on your shoulders.

"You have a lot of explaining to do man." Fangs says.

"It's a long story."

"We have time."

Sweet Pea sighs and walks into an empty classroom that happened to be where it all started. "About three or four weeks since we got here. I sat there and Y/n sat there." He points to two seats next to each other in the back right corner, "wasn't a great start as you already know and that day we were all getting paired for a new project and we were partners. She turned to me and said"

November 18th, 2018

"I'm not doing all of the work." You cross your arms over your chest as you stand in front of one of the new students desks. You see a Serpent tattoo on the side of his neck sending a small chill of fear of him down your spine.

"Did I say you were?" He spits back standing up so he towered over you.

"I'm just saying. I've heard you aren't good news." You say making yourself seem unbothered by his otherwise intimidating stance.

"I get that you come from some high and mighty Northside family, but just because I'm from the South doesn't immediately put a lable on me." He says in a voice low so the conversation is only the two of you.

"Oh, I'm not discriminating about where you came from, I'm saying I've heard about a Serpent with raven hair, a neck tattoo and who seemed to be a human skyskraper that was trouble. I'm going to assume that's you unless you have a twin."

He stares at you for a few moments as if looking for a chink in your armor, looking you up and down. You shift slightly under his gaze which seemed to be enough for him as he sits back down with a huff.

"Let's get this over with."

The entire time you worked you hardly talked, doing your best to avoid it at all costs. Right before the teacher let everyone out of class, the bell chiming outside, she announces that you wouldn't have anymore class time to finish this and would have to complete the project out of school. You inwardly groan at the thought of spending your free time with Sweet Pea and figuring out a way to hide it from your family.

"I'm not happy about it either." He says before walking past you and shoving your shoulder, nearly making you drop your stuff.

That night you texted Sweet Pea after trying to find other ways to complete the project but only finding one.

Almost as soon as the clock struck five there was a knock on the door which you scamper to open before anyone else heard. Sweet Pea has a look on his face that says it took everything in him to get himself to actually show up and pass through the metal gate.

"Hurry up." You say, pulling him inside and up the flight of stairs that split in to two. You ignore his attempts to talk until you're in the library, a place where no one except you went.

"Think you could not drag me up stairs anymore?" Sweet Pea asks with an annoyed look, fixing his leather jacket.

"Of course you wore that," you sigh and gesture vaguely in his direction.

"Got a problem, Preppy?" He asks with a raise of his brow.

"How many times do I have to tell you I don't care about where you come from. My family, on the other hand, does. If they saw you in here they'd hang us from the chandelier." You tell him, his expression softening slightly. "There's books on the project on that shelf over there if you need one."

The atmosphere between you both is slightly less tense than at school but still few words were exchanged as the night went on. After nearly finishing and working for three hours, the slides suddenly turned blank.

"What just happened? Where's all the work?" You question, trying to get it back by spamming buttons.

"I don't know I didn't touch anything." Sweet Pea says, turning away from his book to his laptop and spamming the undo arrow. Both of you get more and more frantic as the hours of research don't appear again, eventually accepting the reality it was gone.

"What the hell happened?" Sweet Pea exclaims, standing up and pacing. "We just wasted five hours!"

"How am I supposed to know?" You say as frustrated as he was, "but unless you want to be up until sunrise, we need to redo everything."

He stands tense for a while and for a few moments you think he's going to storm out but he sits back down in the leather chair next to you, reluctantly pulling his laptop towards him and starting to fill everything back in.

You finally officially finished the project at exactly 2:37 AM. By then you were exhausted, eyes heavy from staring at a screen so long.

"I sent it to the teacher," you say, turning to look at Sweet Pea, "oh you've gotta be kidding me." Sweet Pea is slouched in the chair with his laptop almost falling off of his lap and a notebook under his hand. You move your stuff into your bookbag and set it by the table before taking his off of his lap as carefully as possible. As much as you pretended you were repulsed by the raven haired Serpent, there would be no way for him to leave quietly. You see a pen woven into his hair that he'd put behind his ear and gently pull away the locks and get it out. You glance down before looking back up and doing a double take. His expression was soft and unjudging, lips slightly parted and chapped. He looked calm; kind, even. You shake your head and stand back up, returning to your own chair and fall into a restless sleep.

You woke up to pounding on the front door, panicking for a moment before realizing your parents and grandfather were out for a "meeting" for the rest of the week. Sweet Pea is up and standing next to you, confusion displayed on his face as he realizes where he is.

"Who's that?" He asks as both of you walk down the stairs.

"I don't know." You admit, slightly nervous by the violent pounding on the old wood of Clover Cliff. You open the doors and your face falls upon seeing your brother standing there. "It's not a good time M-"

"What the hell are you doing on this side of town Malachi?" Sweet Pea asks, stepping into view behind you.

"I could ask you the same thing," he replies, stepping inside, "Got yourself some Serpent arm candy? Does dear Opa know about that?"

"We're working on a project for school." You say stiffly, witnessing the two boys staring each other down. "Look I know you guys have Ghoulie and Serpent beef but not here, not now. What do you want Mal?"

"Just came by for my stuff Dad is keeping away from me. I'll take it and be out of your greasy hair." He says, not removing eye contact with Sweet Pea causing the two to try to jump at each other but you put a hand on both of their chests. Fifteen minutes later Malachi walks out the door letting you let out a breath.

"How the hell do you know the leader of the Ghoulies?" Sweet Pea asks, his jaw clenched and hands balled in to fists.

"He's my older brother." You reply, running a hand through your hair and walking into the kitchen with him right behind you.

"You kind of failed to mention that." He says.

"It doesn't matter. Sorry I didn't think oh Sweet Pea is coming over, maybe I should go into depth of my every member of my family."

It's silent again in every corner of the mansion as you walk around, grabbing a bowl of fruit for breakfast.

"I wasn't asleep." Sweet Pea says after you sit down on a bar stool.

"What?"

"I wasn't asleep." He repeats, "you know, when you put all my things on the table. And the pen when I'm pretty sure you were watching me."

"I wasn't watching you, you're the idiot who got a pen stuck in their hair." You retort, stuffing a blueberry in your mouth.

"Why do you keep doing that?" He asks, looking at you through the hair that'd fallen on to his forehead.

"Doing what?"

"Insulting me every time I try to have a normal conversation."

"Because we're not buddy buddy. We're classmates. I've known you for hardly a month. Need anymore?"

"We're opposites and we're not really friends. I get that. But it's pretty annoying when everything I say to you gets shut down." He says, his voice genuine and the way his face was last night, gentle.

Why didn't you say anything when I may or may not have been staring at you?" You ask, trying to look him in the eye but his never quite meet yours.

"I don't know, maybe I kind of liked it." He answers quietly, finally meeting your gaze. He was nervous, maybe a little scared. From the way he talked and those feelings in his eyes you could tell he wasn't lying. You slide off of your stool and stand in front of Sweet Pea, your hand reaches up and cups his cheek your thumb rubbing over his cheekbone. He jerks away momentarily as if he's not use to physical contact but his posture returns to how it was before, his eyes anxious and almost scared.

"You okay?" You ask him quietly, eyes scanning his face.

"Yeah." He breathes as your hand moves up to his hair, swiping away a lock of hair on his forehead before moving back down, his head leaning into your touch as if he'd been craving it. You pull him down to you, your lips meeting in a gentle kiss and his arms wrap around your waist to pull to closer. You pull apart and look into his eyes, the corners crinkled by a smile.

"This is-" he starts before you hum in response and press your lips to his again.

November 11th, 2019

"So you two started dating because of Mr.Lake." Toni summarizes.

"Sort of," Sweet Pea shrugs, "I have to go to class, see you guys later."

"When did he become such a Loverboy?" Fangs asks as the door closes behind Sweet Pea.

"I don't know," Toni replies, "but I do know that girl is good for him and that's enough for me."

"Kevin, I don't know why you're freaking out so much, he's just a boyfriend." You sigh, closing your locker and starting to walk with him by your side.

"He's not just a boyfriend, he's a Serpent!" Kevin exclaims.

"So? You dated one."

"Exactly! That's why I know they're not good news!"

"Well while you go off on all the reasons I shouldn't date Sweet Pea, him and I will be celebrating our anniversary next week." You smile before walking into Mr. Lakes classroom and take your seat as in the story.

"Hey Sweets." You smile as he sits down next to you, "how'd it go with Fangs and Toni?"

"They're happy about it." He replies. "How about yours?"

"Well Kevin warned me about dating a Serpent but other than that, we're in the clear with the people who actually matter." You smile, "Oh and you should come by later, I have a little surprise."

"What--" Sweet Pea tries to ask but before he can Mr. Lake walks in and starts teaching forcing him quiet and to wonder what you meant.

Around six thirty after school Sweet Pea made the walk up the winding drive way of Clover Hill and knocked on the doors he's only passed through a handful of times.

"Hey," you smile after letting him in, placing a chaste kiss to his lips, "So you wanna watch a movie?"

The two of you sit on your bed with the movie Scream playing on the TV in front of you. You sit between Sweet Peas legs with your back to his chest, his arms tucked around you making sure you stay. Your hands fold around his on your stomach, every now and then your thumb rubbing over the top of his palm. Half an hour in Sweet Pea moves your hair over your shoulder and presses soft lips to your now exposed neck sending chills down your spine. He pulls your shirt over your head before you turn around and face him, straddling his lap. You discard his shirt and press a kiss to his lips that quickly turns heated, your hands in his hair as he slowly lowers onto the mattress. His hands move to your thighs, the two of you smiling into the deep kiss.

A small whiles later your standing out on your balcony with nothing but your underwear and Sweet Peas shirt that dropped to your mid knee, leaning against the stone fence around the space. The wind picks up your hair as he walks out of your bedroom in his sweat pants, coming to stand behind you with his arms wrapped around you and he places a soft kiss to your cheek. Something in you seemed to click, like this was it. This is where you were supposed to be. You've known for a long time now that you and him we're going to last, but this feeling was like looking into your future and seeing you both standing exactly like this in some future with a house of your own. A future where you weren't shunned for being with someone from the other side of the tracks. A future where it was and always will be you two.

"I love you Sweets." You say, watching the sun sink behind Sweetwater River.

"I love you too Y/n."

November 18th, 2019

"I love you Y/n, please wake up." Sweet Pea says urgently, holding you on the floor of Pop's after you'd suddenly collapsed, a milkshake in a takeaway cup slowly seeping out of the lid in a puddle a foot away. A minute ago - fifteen seconds ago you were fine, smiling by his side. Then you were on the floor bringing his heart down with you.

"Call an ambulance!" He yells at the few people in the diner who'd gathered around. A bell signals the door opening and Archie Andrews joins the scene, pushing his way past people to see the commotion.

"Oh my God," he says after seeing you laying motionless on the floor. "Hurry I'll drive." Sweet Pea doesn't waste anytime picking you up as gently as he can and running out the door with Archie, sliding into the backseat with you in his lap. Archie speeds out of the parking lot proven by the sound of breaks screaming and other honking cars. The entire ride Sweet Pea isn't sure if this was some kind of fucked up dream, time freezing and he's left with you unresponsive in his arms; your fingers are not squeezing his back even though his hand grips yours as if it's a lifeline for both of you.

Everything in the interior of the Andrews truck lurches forwards as Archie slams the breaks, already five steps behind Sweet Pea who was up the stairs of the emergency entrance.

"Someone help!" He yells, voice strained with the threat of tears behind his eyes. Nurses pull over a gurney and have him lay you down on it, saying words to each other Sweet Pea didn't understand.

"Miss can you hear me? What's your name?" One of them asks.

"She's Y/n. Y/n Y/l/n." He answers her question, following the people around you, trying to figure out what's wrong based off the medical terms they're spitting out.

"Sir, you can't pass this point." The nurse says, blocking his way from you as you're moved onto a table.

"Bull," Sweet Pea says, trying to push past her but he's stopped again.

"Sir, if you go in you'll distract us and we won't be able to help Miss. Y/l/n." She says calmly. He stops at these words, not being able to handle the fact that if he went in you were at a greater risk. He steps away and sits down in a chair, holding his head in his hands and looking at his lap. How could this happen? How did he end up here with you in a hospital with a sudden episode? How did this happen to you? You were untouchable, nothing could come near you if it intended harm. This wasn't supposed to happen. He's supposed to protect you.

"Sweet Pea?"

He looks up and sees Toni and Fangs with worried expression on their face that they had a right to, they've never seen him like this. He's gone through rough patches of course just like everyone else, but no one has seen him looking like he's standing on the edge of a cliff, ripped in two and messy.

"I don't know what happened." He says quietly, his hands in front of his mouth. Veronica, Betty, Jughead, and Kevin arrive with the same expressions as Toni and Fangs. "We were heading out of Pop's and she just... Collapsed... I don't know."

"Guys." Veronica says, making everyone follow her direction of sight to the newest addition to the people in the hospital for you; your grandfather. His expression is blank, maybe even a little pleased by the situation as he approaches the group of teenagers.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Sweet Pea asks, now standing up to face him.

"I heard the most terrible news about my granddaughter and I've come to visit," He says doing a poor job at hiding a smile.

"Yeah of course you did. Right after you did whatever's wrong with her!" Sweet Pea yells, pointing at the room you're in.

"Preposterous. For all I know you did something, you're the gang member boyfriend of a well respected figure of our town." He spits back.

"Son of a-" Sweet Pea tries to lunge at the older man but he's held back by Fangs and Jughead.

"He's not worth it dude." Fangs says. Sweet Pea sits back down, squeezing his eyes shut in frustration.

"Don't worry, you all won't be here long. I'm sure of it." With that your grandfather walks back out of the hospital with body language that said he'd won a battle and he had no regrets on what he may or may not have done.

As feared by everyone, he was right. Half an hour after the human embodiment of Clifford Blossom mixed with Hiram Lodge left a nurse came out into the waiting room.

If you were an outsider looking in on the situation, perhaps one of the people just there for a check up or the cold, you'd pity those people. As the doctor explained something quiet enough so only they could hear you could watch as all of their expression fell from looks of hope and fear to loss and sorrow and anger and pain. You'd see the Lodge girl fall to her knees and cry into her hands and you'd see a tall Serpent collapse with her but inwardly. His face twisted as tears leaked out of his eyes though he tried to restrain them and his fists balled up into fists. You'd see his head fall so he didn't have to look any of his friends in the eye before he ran off. If you were one of the people in that group who'd received the news, you'd hear the doctor tell everyone that while they tried everything they could they could not save the previously untouchable Y/n Y/l/n. You'd hear him say she'd been killed by a foreign substance in her blood that'd worked it's way through her system and shut down her heart by weakening the flow of your blood. You'd be filled with your own emotions as you watched Veronica fall and Sweet Pea crash before he stormed away with a look of utter devastation on his tear streaked face.

For the days leading up to your funeral, Sweet Pea laid in bed and distanced himself from everyone. He locked the door and turned off his phone, sticking to sitting in the darkness of his bedroom alone. He looked back on all of the happy memories you and him shared leading up to your one year anniversary that you hadn't even gotten to fully celebrate. He barely put himself together enough to attend the funeral but he went, uncaring if your family didn't want him there. Everyone tried to talk to him when he arrived, but he just gave simple answers that shut down the conversation. It was just too hard for him to keep talking and keep pretending everything would be okay because he knew it wouldn't.

Before everyone left the service Sweet Pea made his way to the stand in the front by your casket, everyone stopping to see what the last person to see you alive would say.

"I... Y/n and I were the closest people in each of our lives." He begins, his face screwing up for a moment but his friends give him a supporting look and he continues, "we spent almost every day with each other. Every time she knew I was sitting alone at home she'd show up with an old horror movie and sit with me." There's a few sad laughs in the room.

"She took a chance on me when no one else would. She was the kindest, brightest, most caring and most beautiful person to walk this Earth. Every time one of us were going through something no matter how small, she was by their side supporting them through it all. We've lost another part of Riverdale. Another teenager who didn't get to live out their dreams; another hope of innocence returning to this town. I've lost... I've lost the love of my life. Y/n was and will always be the only person on this planet who could ever make me feel the way she did. She made me feel important and loved and like I was here for a reason. Like if I could make her happy, then I'd fulfilled my purpose.

I remember a week ago sitting with her on the balcony just upstairs and thinking this is where I'm supposed to be. We were going to stick with each other and maybe have a family of our own. But if I don't get that, if I don't get to spend the rest of my days with you in the life we had planned out for after high school, I just want to thank you, Y/n. Thank you for the best year of my life."

#sweet pea smut #sweet pea imagine #sweet pea x reader #sweet pea fanfiction #sweet pea #riverdale moodboard #riverdale cheryl #riverdale imagine #riverdale fanfiction #riverdale #fangs fogarty #old fangs #veronica lodge #archie and veronica #betty cooper #archie andrews

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dotthings · 5 years

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After 15.07 ended I had to sit there crying for about ten minutes, marinating in my Dean feelings. So that’s how things are going here.

[[MORE]]

Dean sure is drinking a lot. Oh sweetie. Sure he’s fine. He’s just fine. Perfectly fine. It’s not just Cas weighing on him but Cas is gone yet still out there. But away from him, and he’s feeling alienated from Cas, and Dean’s got this existential crisis about the meaning of his whole life, and he’s just not fine.

Domestic Sam and Eileen cooking together in the bunker kitchen and acting like they’ve been married for 15 years or so I CAN’T EVEN. Those moments of domesticity are important to give this story texture. It’s never going to be all about cooking in the bunker kitchen being adorable but these are complex characters with layers and whole lives and soft marshmallow centers underneath their harsh, monster-hunting shells and I LOVE IT.

Dean likes Eileen (and she made bacon, thus winning a thousand points) and the only point during these scenes Dean showed really any lightening of his burdens was seeing Sam and Eileen together and teasing Sam about her. He just wants Sam to be happy, and Sam is worried about Dean, and oh my heart *squishes them*. “That’s progress, right?” Sam tells Eileen all hopeful, because Dean went out on a hunt. Oh Sam, honey, Sam you know better than that but you want Dean to be okay as much as Dean is posturing to be okay so you’re trying to roll with it. Dean fleeing from his life into a hunt isn’t really a good sign though.

When Dean finds Lee, it’s the first time all season we’ve seen him all the way through happy. I’m not sure I’ve seen Dean look that kind of happy well...ever. My heart is SHATTERING HERE. It’s like this is the Dean that could be, if circumstances had been less brutal, if the monsters, and heaven, and hell, and God himself, had been less brutal, if his mom hadn’t died when he was four, if John had been well...not the way John was to him, and even with all that, the capability is still in Dean, that sense of joy in being alive, in being open.

This ep is kind of underscoring how important different kinds of relationships are. No matter how much I love the relationships of Team Free Will, none of them can be all the things for each other, even if it’s three instead of just two. Eileen and Sam’s rapport shows it in this ep and Dean’s rapport with Lee shows it. It doesn’t mean Cas and Sam are less important to Dean. And I think Dean and Cas really belong together and are suited, if they can climb over being their own worst enemies, and Sam and Dean are Sam and Dean, but Dean and Lee have their own thing too and it BREAKING MY HEART SEEING THIS.

Oooh Eileen makes her move and Sam seems interested and—-LOLOLOL Cas cockblocks Saileen.

Sam is so damn pissy about Cas not getting back to him I am loving it.

“Yeah, I got better.” This should be a crest on a stone shield over the bunker door at this point, everyone in it died at one point or another...but then they got better.

Cas IMMEDIATELY demanding “Where’s Dean?”

He’s so put out that Dean isn’t there akdlfjkl;asjg;lahf even though Cas doesn’t want to talk to him right now. WHERE’S DEAN. The song of the Castiel.

Dean assuming that Lee probably died after they lost touch because “I mean that’s how this usually ends” is the most hunter most sad thing ever.

But no he didn’t die, he retired and bought a bar, he’s living Dean’s Rocky’s Bar dream and everything hurts.

So Eileen realizes that whatever Sergei is planning to do about Sam’s God bullet wound is a bad idea, while Sam and Cas jump right in because they just want to get Chuck and of course it goes badly. This is peak Team Free Will dumbassery. Eileen is such a reasonable, sensible voice here but it doesn’t stop them.

Cas finally calls Dean on purpose because Sam is hurt, I mean nothing brings bickering husbands together like mutual worry over one of their kids. Also Cas is so distressed about Sam, maybe he wants Dean there, it’s almost not quite a flip on Dean praying to Cas needing Cas there personally when he’s scared for Sam.

“If you don’t help me tonight I will find you and burn you alive.” Fierce Cas protecting Sam. I’m all tingly.

So Dean asks Lee “who’s going to kill the bad guys”

“Somebody else” says Lee.

At first, Lee’s ideas about retirement sound like not a completely terrible idea, there is more to life than hunting, and maybe Dean should have the chance to explore that. Oh and it sounds like this friendship with Lee was something Dean had while Sam was an Stanford and I have so many thoughts on that, those years are left unfilled in by canon, we can only surmise and piece together. The idea that Dean was fully lonely the entire time, completely lost without his brother...maybe not so much. Much as it was also hard on Dean having Sam leave him and John behind so completely and I’m sure it hurt. But here’s the thing, they spent years apart, and both had their lives, and this look into a friendship from Dean’s past, while Sam had Jess...interesting. Again, gee it’s like more than one relationship in people’s lives matter.

Eileen looking after Sam who is suffering from a wound “down to his very soul.” Eileen’s worried little face. Cas’s worried face.

Okay okay I knew Lee could turn out to be evil, I knew that, I still shouted NOOOOOOOO. Figured ahead of time this ep could go one of three ways. 1. Djinn dream and Lee wasn’t real 2. Lee is real but good 3. Lee is real and was a friend but turns out to be a betrayer or a monster or dies (ooh fun times we went with a triumvirute on number 3)

I was actually getting annoyed at Cas for trusting Sergei in the first place but then Cas, the tactician, the smart ruthless angel, is holding a captive over Sergei. He knew Sergei might screw them over all along and was prepared.

Eileen pinning Sergei angrily up against the wall by his throat, threatening him for Sam’s sake. SAM THIS ONE IS A KEEPER.

Also Eileen reminds me a lot of Cas. They can both be soft but have this ruthless streak, this warrior fury that comes out.

Oh welp here we go, Lee let the darkness eat his heart. He wasn’t turned into a monster, and he doesn’t do it for greed, it just...ate him up, all he wanted, after his trauma, was some peace but there are costs too high and he gave up what was good about him to get some minor good fortune, his dream bar.

“If evil like that exists int he world, guys like you and me, we aren’t ever going to win”

“No one’s innocent”

“Are we owed a little happiness”

“Good or bad, the world doesn’t care. No one cares, Dean.”

So while Dean is facing this existential abyss about whether anything he’s done, all the trauma he’s gone through, had any meaning, because he found out God was outright manipulating events around him his whole life, on purpose, for entertainment, there’s his old friend, someone Dean clearly connected strongly with and cares about, spilling his own abyss out onto the table in front of Dean and the abyss in Lee is a lot darker and danker and rotted than Dean’s, and Dean’s the one who has to contend with actual freakin’ GOD screwing him over, personally, his whole life.

“Well I do.”

This is probably where I started crying during the episode, because of Dean. Because of all the trauma, all the losses, all the unimaginable horrors he’s faced, including his own inner demons, and he never gave up and he never lost his caring for the world and for others. He often doesn’t care much about himself but he never stopped CARING. And his spirit and his heart are as fierce and butt-kicking as his monster-fighting and hand-to-hand combat skills (I so enjoyed this bamf Dean fight scene) and that is why I love Dean SO SO MUCH.

*pauses to cry again*

“I am you. That woke up and saw the world was broken.” But Lee doesn’t know that Dean knows the world is broken. He knows eactly how broken the world is, how literally broken, that it’s just one of Chuck’s many drafts, and how uncaring Chuck the creator really is. It doesn’t get more world-breaking than that, and Dean knows, and IT DIDN’T BREAK DEAN. Lee’s projecting, he just can’t understand how someone who is like him, who’s witnessed horrors like what he’s witnessed, isn’t broken the way Lee is. But Dean is Dean, he isn’t Lee.

“Why do you care so much Dean?”

“Because someone has to.”

Oh hey because I haven’t made this post painful enough yet with Dean analysis, let’s take a look back at 2.20 What Is and What Should Never Be (transcript courtesy of superwiki)

“All of them. Everyone that you saved, everyone Sammy and I saved. They're all dead. And there's this woman, that's haunting me. I don't know why. I don't know what the connection is, not yet anyway. It's like my old life is, is coming after me or something. Like it like it doesn't want me to be happy. Course I know what you'd say. Well, not the you that played softball but... "So go hunt the Djinn. He put you here, it can put you back. Your happiness for all those people's lives, no contest. Right?" But why? Why is it my job to save these people? Why do I have to be some kind of hero? (begins to cry while talking) What about us, huh? What, Mom's not supposed to live her life, Sammy's not supposed to get married? Why do we have to sacrifice everything, Dad?”

But Dean is way past this, he’s gone through that stage of questioning and come out the other side. He tells Lee nobody owes him anything. He isn’t owed a reward. He just cares because he does and that’s...well, that’s kind of how life is. As fans, we talk about what our favorites deserve, and of course they deserve some peace and happiness. But that’s not always how it works...still they can keep hoping and we can keep hoping for them. The story isn’t over.

Whereas Lee, when he asked those questions about “why us, why do we have to be the heroes” came out the other side completely broken and corrupt.

The way Dean’s eyes went dead inside when he had to stab Lee. Like a light went out in Dean as Lee died. The contrast between that and his light-hearted pure joy at seeing his old friend again. JUST STAB ME TOO OKAY

Oh my goodness Dean’s return to the bunker and that awkward awkward face to face with Cas and neither of them seems angry any more even but there’s so so much negative space between them and Dean seems like he wants to maybe bridge the gulf but now Cas shuts Dean out, cuts him off, and walks out of the room, a flip on what Dean was doing in eps 1-3 to Cas. And the STARING oh my god the staring. Despite their problems, despite everything, Dean and Cas have a powerful bond and bonds don’t have to be trouble free and perfect to be good ones. They’re going to fix this, if they can climb over their walls and their issues and find their joy together. Because they are both worth it. They are also similar. No matter what’s been thrown at them, how much suffering, how much trauma. Cas, like Dean, keeps getting back up, and hasn’t lost his caring. “Too much heart was always Castiel’s problem” and it’s actually Dean’s problem too and by problem, for them on this, we actually mean great big asset.

Both of them, Cas last week, and Dean this week, undergo something separately that shows them why they have to get back into the fight, and not run away from everything (or each other, I think, that’s tacit). “If I stay here nothing changes” Cas said in 15.06. Cas was able to prove to himself, for himself, that he could save people, that he wasn’t an entire failure, and Dean went through an experience in 15.07 that jolted him to connect with his own sense of caring again, to feel the meaning in who he is and what he does, and how much he cares. Despite Chuck’s nonsense, he still cares about everything, so much it hurts.

#Sam Winchester #Dean Winchester #Castiel #Eileen Leahy #Destiel #Saileen #Lee Webb #Sam and Dean: a work in progress #Sam and Cas #Dean and Lee #me x Dean feelings #spn #supernatural #supernatural spoilers #meta

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vintagedaydreams · 5 years

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Girl Talk

So, I am a horrible procrastinator, and figure if I want to get over writer’s block, I’d better have someone(s) holding me accountable. Posting to a website seems like a good way to get someone(s). (Even if it’s all in my head.)

I have a lot of scenes and snippets rattling around in my brain, and on my phone, so I’m going to start randomly posting them to try and see if that doesn’t start the creative juices flowing again.

This one is a James Bond short.

James Bond x Female Reader

1,133 words

Enjoy!

You glanced up as the door opened and then promptly groaned. “Oh, please, Eve, not today.”

Moneypenny smirked at you and you briefly contemplated letting your head just slam down onto the table you were working off of. Full of nice, sharp pointy things too.

“I just thought I’d come down and tell you that 007 will be here in a few minutes,” she said with a smirk.

“Well hooray for him,” you deadpanned, giving yourself a mental pat on the back for your steady voice. It wasn’t like there should be anything for you to be excited about. The man just needed another gun probably. He wouldn’t be down here for any other reason, and you knew that, but you still couldn’t help the jump your insides made hearing he’d be in the same room as you, talking to you, in a few moments.

You really needed to kill that little part of you that hoped. It was a bloody nuisance.

“So, since he’ll be here, I’ll wait until tomorrow to give you a bad time about him,” Eve continued and you glared at her.

“Gee, you’re too kind,” you growled and then glared some more at her laugh. Last time you told her anything about your feelings! Since you’d confessed, (she’d actually tricked it out of you), that you thought Bond was attractive and possibly had a crush on him, she hadn’t left it alone.

It was just a matter of time before someone else found out. With your luck, it’d be Bond himself. And wouldn’t that just be fun? You refused to be a one night stand and since Bond had ‘Commitment Issues’ practically plastered on his forehead…well, there really was no hope for you.

So the part that still got excited to see him needed to go. You glanced down at your table full of tools. Maybe one of them was sharp enough to just cut it out…

“Afternoon, ladies,” Bond’s suave, smooth voice cut in and you resisted the urge to shoot Moneypenny a warning glare. Bond was a secret agent. He’d see it and you’d be screwed.

And not in the good way either.

“007,” Eve greeted and you were relieved to hear her voice sounding normal. She didn’t hate you after all.

“Sup, Bond,” you greeted as casually as you could, looking back down at the Berretta you were fooling around with to keep him, hopefully, from seeing your blush until you could get it under control.

“Am I interrupting something?” Bond asked, looking from you to Eve and back again.

Eve laughed, “No. We were just having a girl talk.”

Bond rose a brow. “Do I want to know?”

“Probably,” Eve smirked at him, “but you can’t. Girl talk.”

“Really,” you sighed, finally looking up and almost getting lost in beautiful blue eyes, “nothing too important. Somebody,” you shot Eve a glare, “just got bored and decided to bug me.”

The smirk that stole across Bond’s face had you looking back down at the Berretta quickly. Bugger. This was so not good…

“Well, I’d hate to bug you as she is, so I’ll make it quick,” his deep voice rumbled.

“Oh, I’m leaving now anyway,” Eve cut in, “so no rush, 007.” She flashed you a wink behind his back and sauntered out the door.

You barely resisted the urge to throw something at her retreating form.

“Q said that he sent down some schematics for a new gun for me,” Bond stated, walking a few steps closer to the table. You frowned in thought for a moment before nodding.

“Right. Almost the same as last time, Bond, palm print reading and such,” you started explaining, grabbing the gun from under the table you were working at, “but with a few changes: a bit bigger, longer barrel, and more rounds that fit in it.” You handed it over the table to him, watching as he held it up and tested it.

“Do try not to let it get eaten this time around,” you grinned after a few moments of silence, “it did take me quite a while.”

Blue eyes that sparkled in mischievousness shot to your own. “I’ll give it my best shot.”

You rolled my eyes at the pun, trying to hide a grin.

There was silence again for a few moments before Bond suddenly asked, “Is everything okay?” When you looked up at him in confusion, he added, “Today with Eve. It seemed a bit…tense when I walked in.”

You mentally despaired over secret agents and their awful, but amazing ability to freaking know everything at just a glance.

You gave as normal a smile as you could. “Everything’s fine, Bond. She was just down here messing with me.”

“Messing with you about what?” the double-oh asked casually, though his eyes were focused intently on you.

You rose a brow and smirked, tying to direct the conversation elsewhere. Like, now.

“Girl talk, Bond, girl talk.”

The man didn’t even crack a smile, eyes still serious and boring into yours.

“I can take care of that for you, you know. Get her back for that crack shot at me on the train.”

You gaped at the blonde for a moment before barking a laugh.

“As much as I appreciate it, Bond, I happen to like her. And if you get her shot off a train, I’d have to find a new friend. And we all know how I hate meeting new people.”

“Oh, I think I’d be a good substitute,” 007 purred, suddenly inches away from your table and you.

You gulped, unable to hide the blush from creeping across your face and neck.

“Uh, well, well I think you’re, uh, you’re a bit…bit underqualified?” you finally squeaked out.

Bond gave a smile, a small thing that made his face brighten and the corners of his eyes crinkle, just the slightest bit. It didn’t seem to have any of the usual snark or sarcasm, just plain amusement.

“I’m a sucker for cheesy movies, a fair nail painter, can put away ice cream and cake like no other and am an excellent listener. Now, surely you wouldn’t judge my qualifications based on my sex? Not at least without me having a chance to prove myself?”

You just stared at him, blinking in confusion. …What? Just…what?

When you didn’t say anything, just gaped in obvious bewilderment, Bond leaned over the table and gently closed your open mouth with calloused fingers.

“So, darling, dinner tonight? We can have some girl and boy talk, hm?”

You sputtered a minute before choking out, “So…you’re, you’re not going to…to shoot Eve?”

Bond laughed, a sound that made your knees nearly buckle. Honestly, this man was going to be the death of you.

“No, darling, I’m not going to shoot Eve. Not today at least.”

#James Bond Imagines #James Bond x Reader #James Bond #Moneypenny

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chyrstis · 4 years

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I won’t ask for much (but just this once, I’d like you) 1/10

I’ve held out for a while now, thinking it’d be silly to post this here after finishing edits to this on AO3 back in February (and having an older version of this already up at the FC5 Holiday Exchange), but I think the only thing that was being silly was me. Because extra edits were badly needed, I’d love to add this to my FC5 masterlist, and to anyone that read the original and powered through the whole thing in one go back in December? Kudos to you, because it was always meant to be posted chapter by chapter here instead.

So, without further adieu, here’s Ch. 1 of 10 of the romantic comedy I didn’t plan on writing for them, but am very glad I did. ...Just with 100% more accidental arson and singing fish involved.

And also, many, many thanks to @finefeatheredgamer for being the lovely person to prompt this over at the Exchange to begin with. <3

Pairing: Sharky Boshaw x John Seed Rating: E (but only for Ch. 10, the rest are a solid T) Word Count: 4.1K

Link to AO3!

Ch. 1 / Ch. 2 / Ch. 3 / Ch. 4 / Ch. 5 / Ch. 6 / Ch. 7 / Ch. 8 / Ch. 9 / Ch. 10

---

Sharky steals a boat. It just happens to be John’s boat, and when it’s damaged along with his boathouse, John proceeds to lay out a means of having Sharky pay him back. [No Cult AU]

-----------

Hurk was his bro. His blood. One hell of a stand up guy, and the person Sharky knew would have his back no matter what.

The one he could depend on no matter what for damn near anything, and the only one right now that he could say to, with his whole heart, “I love you, man, but you can piss up a fucking rope” for getting him into his mess to begin with.

And okay, maybe he was being a bit harsh about it. And maybe he’d wanted the excuse to do it to begin with, but Hurk had dangled the opportunity so perfectly in front of him. Framed it so beautifully, there was no way he was going to say no to it, no matter what.

Especially not with both drinks and two smoking hot women involved. He’d hit a real dry spell, and the temptation to get lucky hit hard.

So, when beers at the Spread Eagle turned into beers down by the river, Sharky had agreed immediately. And when beers at the river turned into the possibility of beers on the river, he’d agreed to that too.

But he didn’t have a boat. Hurk didn’t either.

Maybe they could’ve winged it by borrowing one from the Marina. They would’ve been skinned alive the next morning after his aunt found out about it, but after mulling it over for a few, Hurk had a better idea.

In his words, a better, sexier idea. 'Cause nothing said sexy like a little speedboat ride and some roguish repatriation. Also Hurk’s words, though Sharky was sure on some level that wasn’t supposed to be pronounced like that either.

John had a boat.

John Seed had both a boat and a boathouse. Rich assholes like that always wanted to flash their cash in the most high-profile ways possible, and for whatever reason having his own personal goddamn plane wasn’t enough. He had to have a boat too.

Surely he wouldn’t miss it for a night. And Hurk’s promise to slip him two-hundred bucks on top of that? Really just made the idea all the sweeter.

Things sped up after that. Blurred and blended into the kinds of things he’d see in an action movie, what with him being the sexy hero going behind enemy lines as a means of infiltrating it – and he’d even streaked some mud across his face to seal it.

But somewhere between snagging the fancy speedboat, riding it out, and getting not one but two kisses of gratitude, he’d let himself get sloppy. And on the way back afterwards, with more beers under his belt, and a decent hard on from some over the clothes action, he’d misjudged a few things.

Not the least of which involved just how close of a fit it was to park and settle the boat. It was a square peg meant for a square hole, but he couldn’t see it that way. Not right now, especially not while belting out words to what he’d think a collab between ABBA and the Bee Gees would sound like.

That’s where things blurred again. Grew unclear and muddied as he tried to keep the boat steady. His head pounded as he misjudged the distance - or was it speed? Both were likely - of his approach, as he leapt into action again, this time wondering if his call to Willis his way out was the right one.

Cold water rushed up to meet him, knocking sense into him just long enough to start paddling, but he bobbed down low. Felt things go black, as like an idiot he gulped down a lung and a half full of water as he fought against it.

That’s when he felt hands grab him. A force dragging him up and out of the cold only for the ground to rush up and smack him in the face.

Hacking it out, he blinked down at the pebbles underneath his hands, his face all but numb at this point as water continued to dribble out of his mouth. That had been close. All too close, he’d realized, still sloshed, but aware enough of the person crouching next to him.

So, he babbled out what he hoped was thanks. Followed it up with more thanks after that, and when he flipped over to maybe even throw a hug or a hearty handshake their way, he froze.

Because he wasn’t ready for the kind of cold fury waiting for him. He also wasn’t ready for John Seed to be the one wearing it either; the kind that he was sure meant he was about to be murdered on the spot.

In that moment, not even two-hundred dollars richer for it, he knew he’d fucked up, but as to how much? He couldn’t say. That was for the morning to tell him, provided he’d make it there.

And right now his odds weren’t looking all that great.

---

Pounding. Endless pounding went off, shaking him out of the comfortable space he’d settled into.

The sound echoed again, making him shift around to muffle it. Pulling the blanket around him, he sighed at the silence only to tense when it was broken again.

“Motherfucking balls, man,” Sharky groaned.

So, he wasn’t dead, just felt like it. That he wasn’t, was a relief as he pried his eyes open. The pulsing, pounding pressure building in his head, not so much. Crawling over to the bed’s edge, he pushed himself up and nearly tumbled to the floor.

Knocking. That’s what the sound was.

Leaving his room, he dragged his feet as he walked over to the door, and jumped when his foot came into contact with something ice cold. Not bothering to check, he shook it off, swearing loudly only to notice it was a pair of jeans. Damp, and just as wet as the hoodie draped over the kitchen table.

When had he- Pointing at it, then at the jeans, he scratched at his head as he stood in the kitchen. Skinny dipping gone wrong, maybe? Gone right? He’d have company if that were the case, but it didn’t stop him from hoping.

He raised an eyebrow, only to start when the knocking began again. “Hold your fucking horses! Seriously, I’m coming.”

Dragging on a nearby pair of pants, he popped his head up in front of the peephole and took a look.

It was John.

John Seed.

That couldn’t have been right. He rubbed at his eyes and peered through again. “The fuck?”

Nope, John was still there, arms crossed as he waited, and he checked his watch before going for the door. Knocking with a heavy hand, the door was almost rattling, and Sharky stepped back.

Something was up. Something that he couldn’t remember right off the bat, and if it put John of all people on his doorstep, it had to be serious.

But he hadn’t pissed off anyone bad enough to put a lawyer on his porch. Or had he? Maybe the F.A.N.G. Center was finally sick of taking his calls and decided to slap him for it. Or hell, his Moonflower disco party never had that many admirers. That could’ve gone south too.

Not remembering sucked, but it was a Tuesday. Probably found a way to piss off somebody in the county without even trying that much.

Yanking the door open, he regarded the man waiting on the other side with a bleary look. It was bright outside, the clear blue of the sky hurting his eyes as he blinked against it, and felt his headache start to pulse as he narrowed his eyes into a squint.

“Charlemagne Victor Boshaw.” The smile John wore was cold as he stared him down. “I’m sure you know why I’m here.”

He scratched his head, scrubbing a hand through his hair as he waited for John to continue. When he didn’t, and was actually seeming to want some kind of feedback from him, he grunted out a short, “Maybe. Maybe not.”

“Well, I was afraid of that. Considering how impaired you were late last night, and considering the great lengths I had to go to keep you from drowning on my property, it seems it’s up to me to enlighten you on what exactly happened.”

Drowning?

He did remember water. Coughing out enough to make him feel a little sick on recalling it. The part before that, when he was whooping it up, and kissing the hell out of his date, was a lot nicer to focus on, and he let his eyes slip shut as he leaned against the doorframe.

Yeah, that was much better. Better than the light searing into his eyes, and better than the asshole camped out on his doorstep.

“Boshaw.”

He cracked open an eye. Squinted right at John’s pinched, irritated face, and considered closing the door on him. “What?”

“You don’t understand the true extent of any of this, do you?”

“Nah, that’s what the whole enlightening thing’s for. Shit, Johnson, where the hell have you been?” he threw out, hating how the pounding in his head was only intensifying. “So if you could get the hell on with it, I could go back to spending my day how I want to. In bed, curled up and doing nothing, not out here listening to you tell me how I…” Sharky let the words trail off. “How I what now?”

“How you owe me,” John hissed, baring his teeth as the temperature in his tone dropped ten degrees and counting. “You. Owe. Me. For a boat. For a boathouse, and for an assortment of damages all tying back to your little alcohol-soaked ride through my property.”

Saying each word through clenched teeth, John paused, drew in a breath through his nose as he closed his eyes, then settled back into the same smile he’d initially greeted him with.

“Then when caught, you panicked, confessed, and forged an agreement with me to fix it. Is that ringing any bells now?”

“Look, look, look, I get it. This looks bad, right?” Sharky held up his hands, still coughing out leftover traces of water, and tried backing away from him. “Just let me say my piece, okay? Let me say it, and get it out there, and we can go back to-“

“Back to what?” John asked, his voice smooth as he stayed on him. “Back to the smoke? The fire? The wreck I bothered to drag you out of?”

“Yeah, yeah, all of that.”

“Oh, good. Because I’m still waiting. Still wondering why of all things, you haven’t given me a single reason at all not to do what anyone else would’ve already done in my position. You know what I’m talking about, don’t you? Tell me.”

“I, uh, I don’t know about-“

He snarled as he crossed the distance between them. “Tell me!”

Sharky paled.

Some of it was coming back in batches, none of it painting a good picture at all. And the longer he focused in on that period of time, the more he felt inclined to drop everything and book it towards the woods. At least then he’d have some kind of a fighting chance. John didn’t look like a runner, but if he did head after him he’d make sure to wing him with a branch or two along the way.

He wet his lips, and let out a long breath. “Okay, so say I did.”

“You did.”

“Okay, so…say I did all of it.”

“You did!” John repeated, his voice rising. “How can I make this any clearer to you? We are here to talk recompense. What you rightfully owe me for, and more importantly, what you’ve promised given the alternative. Or should I repeat myself, yet again, but this time using language that you’re guaranteed to understand?”

Now, Sharky had tried to ignore it before. Maybe even give him the benefit of the doubt, but he’d put up with his fair share of people talking down to him like an idiot, and like hell was John going to get in a shot as well.

“Yo, I was trying to be civil here. Civil and about as respectful as I can get seeing as I’m here, wearing actual pants, and listening to you spouting nothing but shit at me. And I get it! Something was broken that shouldn’t have been taken to begin with, but you’re talking deals that I don’t remember agreeing to, and I don’t like being told I’m a fucking moron on top of that!”

“Fine.” John pursed his lips, losing some of his anger, but not all of it. “You’ve made your point, and…maybe I did speak out of line.”

”You did. No maybes there, dude.”

“But that still doesn’t settle any of the business between us. So, here’s my offer. What I outlined to you last night, and to which you enthusiastically agreed to.”

Sharky bit back the knee-jerk response that he wanted to give, and crossed his arms. “So? Spit it out.”

“You will repair it. Rebuild the damaged boathouse with materials I will supply you with, and under my supervision. This will ensure that the work will be completed, done to my standards and specifications, and to also ensure no further damage will be done.”

“Your standards?”

“That’s correct,” John said, with a glint in his eye. “If it’s not to the quality I ask for, you will tear it down and start over. From scratch.”

“Hey, now. You back it the fuck up, 'cause last time I checked you’re not the fucking boss of me.”

“On the contrary. Yes, I am,” John replied, holding up his cell phone. “And If you don’t want any of this getting back to the local authorities, you will take this deal. Now listen closely, because there will be no second offer, and I’m already being generous.”

Keeping as calm as he possibly could, the voice on the phone outlined this in painstaking detail. Too much detail for a drunk man to take in and consider, but just enough for it to be played back to him while sober.

Including the last detail. One that had John’s expression settle into that of pure satisfaction.

“And you agree to do this? To-“

“Yeah, yeah, whatever, I’ll do it. Whatever you want, building this shit up, building another big-ass boat to cart both you and your bullshit to fucking Aruba, I’ll do it. Just don’t send me to jail, man. Me and the po-po just don’t mix, and…shit, I’ll do anything.”

“Anything,” John repeated, ending the recording. “And looking at the damages done, the cost to avoid a sentence can be upwards of fifty-thousand dollars. That’s no small fee to have to shoulder, and unless you have that to give me, I think you’re better off taking this.”

He was fucked. Fucked beyond question, all because he’d had the piss-poor sense to believe Hurk’s boast that Sharky could commit Grand Theft Boat while sloshed just past his maximum.

Leading to the current dilemma.

Not wanting to go to jail was always at the top of his list. So was having the ability to light shit on fire. Going to jail interfered with both of those things directly, and as much as he could fight or run from it, John had two big things going for him.

One, he was a lawyer.

Two, he had money.

If he wanted to sink him, he’d send him straight down to the bottom of the ocean’s largest, deepest trench without any hesitation.

Clenching his teeth, then unclenching them, the smile he gave him was more of a grimace. “Uh, so…about that whole helping shit.”

“Let’s establish some ground rules, shall we?”

John raised his chin as he gestured towards the door, and Sharky groaned. Stepping to the side to let him in, John stalked on past, and he nearly fell off the front step.

He was going to need a cigarette.

Lots of them.

---

“This should be simple. Straightforward,” John told him as Sharky sat across from him with a cigarette and a roaring headache.

He was to be on the property two times a week.

Each time he would text him in advance making sure that John was available first, then once the time was agreed on, would expect him there promptly.

No work would be done alone. He would pick John up, then take him down to the boathouse to supervise. From there, he would work – some bare minimum that John rattled off, and he half-tuned out – and would drive John back up before heading out for the day.

And then would repeat it again, and again, and again until John was satisfied.

“So, as I said, simple. Easy enough for anyone to follow,” John stated, folding his hands in front of him on the table.

Already on cigarette number two, Sharky let his head sink into his hand. Passed on enough of a response to satisfy John for now, and had to agree to an actual starting date to even get him out of the door.

He was on cigarette number five when he called up Hurk. Spent a good ten minutes trying to get some kind of answers out of him about the rest of the night while also yelling about the shit he’d royally stepped in by messing with John to begin with.

But Hurk talked him down. Helped him to see this for what it was.

One, not a jail sentence. He could still get out of this, even if it looked like John had all but boxed him into doing a shit-ton of labor for free.

Two, he’d done enough odd jobs to be able to swing this. Had built and burnt down a million sheds in his lifetime, so what was building another one going to hurt?

And three, if all else failed, Hurk was set and ready to see about lighting up another part of John’s place just to give him a means of escape. What was a bro if not the kind ready to throw himself into the line of danger so his cousin could exit stage left?

He could give him that. Even if more fire wasn’t the solution to the problem for once. Much as he needed it, and loved it, it wasn’t going to get him out of this.

Sighing heavily, he let Hurk go and went back to bed.

The next day, however, he pulled his shit together and readied himself for what was going to be the beginning of a very long and painful process.

John’s specific list of guidelines chafed bad, like a pair of jeans that were just the wrong side of too tight, but he couldn’t take them off or return them. He just had to deal, and hope that sitting down or bending over wouldn’t lead to the kind of blowout he’d get run out or yelled at over.

So, he played by the rules. Hated every second of it as he jabbed at his phone and gave John the shortest messages he could manage. Then picked him up and tried to grin and bear it as John tapped at his watch while giving his ride the hairy eyeball, and Sharky proceeded to take them both down to the boathouse.

Seeing it during the day painted the whole thing in a different light. From what he’d relayed to Hurk in a delirious call the night of the accident there had been a whole hell of a lot of smoke and fire. Boatloads - pun intended - as he took in the charred shell of the building.

Guess that extra fuel Hurk told him he’d jacked but didn’t toss did more harm than good. Who knew what he’d planned on using it for, but he was lucky he hadn’t been toast himself.

That did mean his work was cut out for him, however. Tearing the whole thing down and rebuilding it was going to be a pain, and John guided him over to the picnic table nearby to go over the blueprints he’d brought from his house.

Spread out, he followed the dimensions outlined, and where he would need to start once the foundation was set. Saw it broken down into smaller pieces, smaller sections, and having it all stripped down like this helped him see it for what it was. Doable, and not even half as complicated as he thought it’d be. Yeah, it was going to be intense, but wouldn’t be impossible.

Now, his version of things allowed for some leeway. That would help to speed things up along the way, but that was where John came in. He said that there would be no ‘cutting corners’ and ‘eyeballing it’ like he was sure Sharky might do.

“This requires care. Precision. Delicacy.”

John kept on going, rattling off a few more things he was in need of here, and Sharky barely held off from pretending to jerk off in the middle of it. But John eventually cut him loose, telling him to get a feel for the area, and pointed him towards the boathouse.

It had been calling to him, in a way, and he let curiosity finally guide him there.

Walking inside, Sharky let out a low whistle.

He’d done a real number on it. Sidestepping the remains of the support beam overhead, he peeked up at the blue sky above him, and took in the blackened wood and ruined equipment. Trying to play guess who with the burned odds and ends was looking to be a game for another day, but while some parts of the building were well past trashed, other items were surprisingly okay.

Like the photographs hanging on the walls.

Both focused on nature – and he liked nature shit; skulls, antlers, pictures, the whole nine yards – but the fish on display didn’t look like they’d been caught. Not by John, or by any of his family, and they felt more out of place than anything else.

At least that’s what he thought until he turned, and saw it. Saw the big, beautiful, borderline majestic fish hanging on the wall, and burst out laughing.

He was still laughing when John finally joined him. “What could be so-“ John’s voice trailed off, and the resigned groan that followed only made him laugh harder.

Swiping at his eyes to wipe the tears away, Sharky framed the singing fish with his hands. “Big Mouth Billy is hanging right on your wall. Here. On your wall.”

“And?”

“And? Dude, that’s like the best shit ever! I haven’t seen one of these since I was like, this tall,” Sharky said, holding his hand to his knee. “Like, I thought they’d stopped selling them.”

“They should’ve.”

“But they didn’t, and that’s pretty damn great if I may say so myself. You’ve gotta tell me who gave you this to begin with. Broseph?”

John sighed, his mouth twisting as he remained silent.

“Ol’ Jake-n-bake then? Dude’s pretty serious, but maybe he gave you this to be nice. Or funny. Shit, maybe both.”

“You had it right the first time,” he admitted, eyeing first him, then it with distaste.

Joseph Seed’s doing? The thought of that made a wide grin break out on his face. “Well, shit. Guess I need to thank him then. Otherwise, I think it’d get pretty lonely out here.”

“What?”

“Well, you’re not gonna sit there and talk my ear off the whole time, so I was thinking I’d need to start talking to myself just to make shit interesting, but Bill here’ll be a fucking hoot once you get him started.”

The offended look that crossed John’s face shifted straight to horror when Sharky waved his hand in front of the fish’s sensor. To his delight, it sprang to life, singing enthusiastically, and when Sharky joined in, John visibly clenched his teeth.

“Still works too! Come on, it’s catchy.”

Picking up on the tune only to mangle it further, John kept on staring at him the entire time. Through one full cycle of it as Sharky snapped his fingers, through a few of his claps, and through at least one hop.

Still, nothing. “Seriously? Feeling none of the magic of that little guy?” Sharky shook his head, giving him a disappointed glance. “Shit, better go one more round to be sure. Maybe that’ll help, and you can join in whenever you like.”

John turned on his heel and promptly left.

Eyeing the bass, he gave one of its fins a small fistbump, only to nearly knock it off of the wall.

Maybe he’d be able to get through this after all.

#far cry 5 #sharky boshaw #john seed #john seed/sharky boshaw #with the snippet I posted yesterday referring back to this it's only fair to post the actual story #just in easier to read chunks at a time #and if I can finish up the other fic soon after posting Ch. 5 even better #FC5 fanfiction #fanfiction #fic: I won't ask for much #fic series: we could make a home out of this

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imagininglotsofthings · 5 years

Text

New Story: Part Two

Title: TBD, Part Two (Still No Name, Any Ideas?)

Pairing: Steve x Reader, Tony x Reader

Rating: TBD

Word Count: 1.411

Notes: Errors, first draft. Tense changes several times. I’ll fix it before the final one, I just wanted to share what I do have. Sort of part two. I want to break it up better and post it again more polished, but I really want to share it with you all.

Enjoy!!

Two weeks later, holed up in my room, Tony’s offer is looking more and more appealing. It has been such a long time, and I’m not one to sleep with strangers, but Tony isn’t a stranger. I’ve worked with him and the other Avengers for almost three years now. I’ve lived in the compound with them for two. But Tony isn’t the one I want to be with. He’s attractive, and I’m sure he has more than his share of experience in bed, but the feelings I have for that someone else are so much stronger. The type of feelings that I know aren’t going away, I just know it. Feelings that would make sleeping together so much more than just sex. And make it so much better than just a one time time thing. I hope. If he even feels the same for me. I don’t know if he does, even though sometimes I think, hope, he might. I close my eyes and see his cerulean blue eyes, full pink lips, sweet smile, soft blond hair….my stomach flips and my heart races just thinking about him. Stupid bastard. I didn’t mean to fall in love with Steve Rogers, but that’s exactly what I’d done.

“You did what?” The rest of the team is either out or already gone to bed. Tony and I stay in the lounge area, drinking, talking and laughing. Sam already came out and told us to keep it down. I’m too tipsy to tell if we are. Actually, I think I’ve gone past tipsy. Just a little, though. Tony’s arm slings over my shoulders and we laugh more.I lay my head back against his arm. Somehow, later in the night, I end up with my legs slung over Tony’s lap, his hand resting on my thigh. I lean over to put my glass down, I’m not fall down drunk, but my balance is a little precarious. I nearly lunge headfirst into the coffee table. An arm slings around my waist and pulls me back up. The glass falls to the floor, but neither of us notice. We laugh as Tony pulls me back into his lap. Tony’s tolerance for alcohol is certainly higher than mine, but we’re so close I can smell the liquor on his breath. I’m not sure who moves first, but the next thing I know, our lips are pressed together. It’s a been a long time since I’ve even been kissed, so my heart does a little flip, and I don’t pull away. It’s nice, Tony’s a good kisser (no surprise here) and I’m kissing him back. When we pull away, there’s still hardly any space between us. And then Tony whispers, “So, any chance you’d reconsider my offer?” I think about it. All the reasons not to flying through my head. But then another voice flies through my head saying., Why not? Why shouldn’t you? You’re not cheating on anyone. Who says you can’t? And I find myself nodding, whispering, “Uh-huh.” “Is that a yes?” “Yes,” I whisper. Tony smirks and kisses me again. His hand tangles in my hair, and after a few minutes I half expect to lay me down on the couch and just do it right there. But then he stands up and tugs on my hand, leaving the empty bottles and glasses. By the time we get to his room, his lips are on mine again, and he fumbles with the door. Finally he gets it open and locks it behind him. We stumble farther into the room, his shirt somehow flying off in the process. My knees hit the back of the bed and he climbs on top of me.

Steve I ruffle my hair as I walk down the hallway. My room’s down the hall from Tony’s. Still, I thought I heard him stumble into his room late last night. Early this morning, more like. I think it was around 2:00 a.m. We were all up in the common area together for a while, but that doesn’t mean much. Tony could’ve went out and found a girl, like he usually does. Y/N was up with him when I turned in. I offered to walk her back to her room. I smile at the memory of her sweet grin and the blush dusting her cheeks. And nearly walk into Bucky. “Hey,” he laughs. “Watch where you’re going, punk.” “Sorry,” I mutter. He looks at me a second too long. “Gee, I wonder who you’re thinking about.” “Shut up,” I grumble. He chuckles and I glance sideways at him. “Does everyone know?” “Hell no,” he says. “I know, of course. I think Nat might.” “And…Y/N?” “Y/N? Oh, well, she’s more clueless than you are. Look, one of you needs to say something already.” “I-I will, I just…” “You’re afraid she doesn’t feel the same, yeah, yeah, I know.” I frown at him. “She does, Steve, I swear she does. She just…she has no idea how you feel. Somebody has to make the first move already.” I nod, I know he’s right. I look toward her door, picturing her asleep behind it, thinking about how much I want to hold her, just as Tony’s door opens a few doors down. I expect to see him come out with his hair rumpled and clothes a mess but who I do see freezes the breath in my lungs. I swallow as Y/N walks out of Tony’s room. Nothing on but one of Tony’s shirts, the first couple of buttons undone so that her some of her cleavage peeks out from beneath it. I try to avert my gaze but end up looking at her bare legs. Tony’s shirt coming down about mid-thigh. “Oh,” her soft gasp of surprise makes me look up at her face but I avoid her eyes. “Morning, doll,” Bucky says beside me. “Morning, Bucky. Steve…” she says my name and just hearing it breaks my heart. After she was in Tony’s room, in his bed, in his arms, last night. She was the girl he stumbled into his room with at 2 in the morning. Bucky nudges my shoulder. “Good morning, Y/N,” it comes out more formal than I’d meant it to. She does up another button on Tony’s shirt and my jaw clenches, desperately wishing it my clothes she was wearing, not his. “Um. I was just about to make some coffee. Do you boys want some?” “Sure, we’d love some. Thanks. Y/N.” She smiles and walks away, the blush dusting her cheeks this time making me furious. At her. But also at Tony. “That wasn’t the move I expected…” Bucky mumbles and I clench my fists and walk back the way I came. “Steve!” “What?” “Look, you don’t know the whole story here, so don’t go writing her off because…” “Because she slept with Stark?” “I know she feels the same way you do, I know it.” “Oh yeah, she’s made that pretty clear.” “Come on.” He grabs my arm and turns me to face him. “If you won’t talk to Y/N about it, talk to Stark?” My eyes dart toward his room and I nod. “But maybe calm down first.”

Y/N Steve never came out for coffee this morning. Bucky said he was going to train. I meander down there to see Nat, Clint, Bucky, Sam, and Bruce all watching something from around the sidelines. I hold out the tray of coffees I brought down. Steve and Tony. That’s who they’re watching. They’re just sparring, though, what’s the big deal? “What’s going on?” I ask Sam. He takes a coffee and sips it before answering. “I think Steve is trying to kill Tony.” “What?” I frown and turn toward the pair. “Why?” Bucky comes up on my other side and takes a coffee, his eyes boring into mine significantly. I blink and turn back toward the two men. Because Tony and I…? No…. Steve lands a hard punch to Tony’s jaw. He falls back onto the mat. “Jesus! What the hell, Cap?!” Natasha’s eyes catch Bucky’s. He must have told her? Bucky gently takes my arm and leads me out with the rest of the team. “Wait, what are you-?”

Steve “Sorry, Stark,” I mutter before reaching my hand out to him. “What the hell is your problem. Capsicle?” You are, I think, jaw clenched tight.

#marvel fanfiction #tony stark x reader #steve rogers x reader #bucky barnes x reader #natasha romanoff x reader #fanfiction #fanfic #marvelfanfic #fanfictionromance #marvelromance #marvelromancefanfiction #marvel angst

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wheremytwinwatches · 4 years

Text

[Where My Twin Watches]: Full Metal Alchemist Brotherhood Episode 40

Last time: Our protagonists put on a play for Kimblee, Yoki actually proved to be useful, and Al lost his map. Onwards!

Really digging the new intro. And hey, just noticed that Al’s still got his “hair” cut short from his run-in with Buccy’s chainsaw. Continuity! Hey, you’re the Central jerks who told Armstrong the Great to go south while you took her chair! Boo! I mean yeah, she did kill Raven like you suspect, but he totally deserved it! In Central Armstrong the Great’s walking along when she oh ho! She’s run into her rival, Colonel Roy Mustang!

They snark at each other for a bit, although Armstrong the Great’s not that wrong when she accuses him of getting the post for being “well-connected”. Further attempts at flirting are shot down (she’s both an Armstrong and lives in freezing weather conditions, do not offer to buy her food if you value your bank account), as well as a final attempt to pass off his Flower Mountain. Oh yeah, she should visit her grandmother while she’s here! Here we go, Fuhrer King Bradley vs Major-General Armstrong the Great. He gets right down to it, demanding to know what she’s done with Raven. Knowing she can’t completely lie, Armstrong the Great plays it off as doing Bradley a service, cutting down a blabbermouth who spilled all sorts of secrets like immortality, the plan of the country, and Bradley’s true nature. And knowing all of that, she still came within striking distance of this monster. Because heck, she hears that there’s an empty General’s chair… Wow. Ok, that’s badass. From being summoned for killing one of Bradley’s men, she’s spun this into a seat of power to strike against the Goths. Sure, she has to play along for now, and put her troops in the center of the trap, but damn if I’m not impressed. You go, Ice Queen. Slightly less impressed with Bradley though, while he’s normally all composed and menacing he’s gone all Glowing Red Eye and Smirking At Wordplay here. Still better than Kimblee. Anyways, give it up for General Armstrong! While she’s in Central, her troops are still up north, glaring at those pompous Central officers swanning around like they own the place. Pfft. Their boss might not be in the area, but the soldiers of Fort Briggs still act as one, and when the moment comes to do more than glare at the Centries’ backs… [Buccy]: “From here on, the bears will fight the tigers.” Episode 40 - “Homunculus (The Dwarf in the Flask)” ...ok, I was misled before with thinking “The First Homunculus” would be about Uncle, but second time’s the charm! Gimme Big Bad Backstory! Hey Riza! Hope you’re feeling better after that run-in with the creepy kid. Still have that cut on your cheek? Roy takes a seat at her table and damnit Bradley, why’d you have to go and split up the power couple, with the whole hostage situation hanging over their heads it’s just awkward work conversation with hardly any good banter. I mean, all Riza can say is that Roy is a slacker, I know she’s got way better insults than that. Yeah, especially after the Selim encounter she has to be careful what she says. But she taps her mug to get Roy’s attention? Twice? And the Plotting Music has started up as Roy double-taps his own pen, and oh my Leto they’re talking in code yes. Now Roy’s in a bathroom going over his papers, listing off oh I see, the code is she says a name and he uses the first letter. Clever! Roy’s listing off the names, starts getting shocked as he goes along… yup, I’d say that SELIM BRADLEY IS HOMUNCULUS is something to get shocked over. Roy immediately destroys the paper, wondering what the heck’s about to happen in Central. Down below Uncle’s lounging in his Pipe Chair, taking a nap? Uncle Flashback! To a young man, being yelled at by an electronic voice? Looks like a guy in ratty clothes with a broom, an Alchemist’s Apprentice?

And there’s a bottled-up flask with a shifting black cloud inside, I’m guessing that’s the titular Homunculus. Flask seems disappointed that Apprentice isn’t shocked at being talked to, but is pleased at the lack of fear. Apprentice is apparently #23, oh so he’s a Homunculus working for the Alchemist. Or a slave? So wait, is Apprentice human? Flask is explaining what “deeded” means, says that Apprentice isn’t very bright and wonders how he was born “from someone as stupid as you”. Ok, so the Alchemist used some of Apprentice’s blood in an experiment, that created Flask. Flask is grateful, and decides to give Apprentice a name. Something noble-sounding, but not too complicated for his stupid little brain… how about Von Hohenheim? Oooh, so we’re getting Beard backstory which should lead into Uncle backstory. Hmmm. I see what you’re doing Flask, offering to teach Beardless, raise him up from his life as a slave. I mean yeah, slavery is awful and everything, but I’m getting the distinct impression that your goals aren’t exactly Good. The little arms and Red Eye and manic grin you’re sporting aren’t helping your case, either. [Flask]: “I’ll tell you what, Von Hohenheim, you can call me “The Dwarf In The Flask”, Homunculus.” Eh, I think I’ll stick with Flask for now. Time is passing, suns and moons flying past an hourglass that’s picked up by Beardless while a man in blue robes scribbles away in the background. There’s talk about how All Things Are One, Beardless standing on a cliff with Blue Robe to the side carrying Flask. Wait, is he giving Alchemy lessons to Beardless? For a guy who has numbered slaves to do the drudge work, that’s a surprising act. Unless this is just so Beardless can be a more effective worker for him, so jury is still out on Blue Robe. Beardless seems to impress his boss by talking about how if All is outside the One then it is Nothing or somesuch, Blue Robe says he passed and that Von Hoenheim is now an Alchemist. Really? You give your slave lessons and name him your equal? I really don’t know what to make of Blue Robe. Regardless, Beardless is humble and says he’s still only a servant. Flask chuckles at that. Later Beardless is thanking Flask for his life being improved with the knowledge the Homunculus gave him, earning his Master’s respect. Heck, maybe he’ll even get a girlfriend one day! Flask mocks humanity needing to procreate in order to continue existing, Beardless argues that it’s the bonds of friends and family that people live for. That leads to the question of what makes Flask happy. [Flask]: “Well… I’d hate to be guilty of asking too much, but I think I’d be happy if I could just leave this flask…” Mid-ep pictures of a scuffed-up Beardless (Slave Number 32) wielding a stick, and The Little One Inside The Flask with his huge grin.

Uh oh, creepy music in a darkened hall. Flask is resting on a cloth stand, asking why “someone with so much power and prosperity” would need immortality. Uh oh. Blue Robe snaps at Flask to mind his manners when in front of royalty, seems the noble that Blue Robe works for wants to be immortal. Blue Robe even threatens to smash Flask’s flask (so would that set them free or kill them?), but Flask talks back saying that he wouldn’t dare destroy such a source of knowledge. King certainly looks old enough that mortality is a pressing concern, he demands the secret from Flask who remarks on the age of the King of Xerxes- oh dear, that’s a name that we recognize. So for one we know that this will not end well for the kingdom, and also GOOD LETO Beard is freaking old if he’s from the Precursor civilization to our modern characters! So I think it’s safe to say that the little black-and-red grinning ball of smoke is Evil, it looks like the King’s ordered his people to dig “irrigation canals” all around the country. No sooner do they go to bed after a hard day of standing around and talking about how awesome their King is, that a bunch of soldiers come riding in and slaughter the workers to “carve out a crest of blood”. Dude, not cool. Later Beardless is carrying Flask around as townsfolk murmur about how villages have been getting wiped out, Beardless remarks that it’s an awful tragedy. [Flask, being totally sincere]: “Yeah, real tragic.” A couple more slaughtered villages later, an hourglass runs out and the King is woken up by Blue Robe, along with another Robe Alchemist and Slave Number 32 who is now rocking the Beard. The King just snarks that the TC took long enough. Time to get some immortality all up in this royalty! (Gee, I wonder if it’ll work…) The ceremony begins, the King giving some blood to an urn ask Beard looks on in awe, so happy to see his ruler achieve immortality oh gosh look at all that black smoke and red lighting, looks like things aren’t working out so well. Spindly black arms rise up from the ground to freak out the Xerxians in the circle, the King has just enough time to realize that this isn’t immortality before he and his flunkies start dying. Turns out the real center of the circle is where Flask and Beard are, Flask used the blood of his blood-brother to open the doorway for both of them. A great eye appears below a shocked Beard before enveloping him and growing to encompass the entire city, dozens of giant shadow arms erupting across a screaming nation before they descend on the eye. In the Whitespace Flask and Beard are Deconstructed and the light show ends. In the morning, Beard wakes up next to a broken flask, calling out for his Majesty and his Master before stumbling outside to a city of corpses. [Beard]: “Somebody… there must be someone left…” [Uncle]: “It’s no use. All of their souls have been taken from them.” Beard thinks that the one standing above him is his King and bows, but looks up to see his own face. Uncle says that he created a body using Beard’s blood, now he can walk on his own two legs. [Uncle]: “To thank you for your blood, I’ve given you a name, and I’ve given you knowledge. And now, I’ve given you a body that will live forever.” Yup. Beard’s immortal, carrying half of all the souls of Xerxes in his body. You know, I can kind of understand why he calls himself a monster now. Beard springs back to the waking world on a train, seems he dozed off. So where are you heading now? Finally going to join your boys and be useful, or are you still kicking around Amestris doing whatever it is you do? Ooh! Teacher! Looks like Izumi and Sig are on the same train as Beard! Wait, have they ever met before? Ok, Teacher’s talking about how she finally gets to meet Papa Elric, and Beard finally gets to meet the teacher of his sons. Uh oh, Izumi’s having some stomach problems, Sig goes to get her medicine before Beard offers to take a look. Right, he’s got his Philosopher’s Stone blood, he can patch her up. Sig is sent to “get a car” so he can talk to Teacher privately, he confirms that she’s seen the Truth and she sacrificed her internal organs. Ok, now he can WHAT WHAT NONONONONONONONONONONONONONO BEARD WHAT THE FUCK YOU JUST STABBED TEACHER WHAT THE FUCK I FINALLY SETTLED ON YOU BEING A GOOD GUY (barring you abandoning your family) BUT NOW YOU’RE KILLING OFF THOSE WHO HAVE SEEN THE TRUTH IS YOUR PLAN SERIOUSLY TO KILL OFF UNCLE’S POTENTIAL SACRIFICES SO HE CAN’T USE THEM FUCK THAT, FUCK YOU, KICK HIS ASS SIG wait Teacher is ok? She’s breathing easier? There’s no wound? Ah. Ok, well aside from Beard’s deplorable bedside manner and scaring the living daylights out of me, he’s done a good thing. He apparently can’t replace Teacher’s injuries as they were “a testament to her sin” (so is that the reason you haven’t fixed your kids yet with your Philosopher Blood?), but he did rearrange her organs to allow better blood flow. [Teacher]: “You’re the boy’s father, but who… who are you?” [Beard]: “Who am I? I am a Philosopher's Stone, in the form of a man. That’s what I am.” Post credits has Ed explaining Philosopher’s Stones to Sideburns, who’s skeptical about so much power being held in such a small package. Ed says he’s never seen a Stone larger than that, to make one you’d have to kill thousands. Cue image of Beard eating dinner with the Curtises. [Ed]: “Maybe it’s possible, but I would never want to see it.”

#wmtw #where my twin watches #full metal alchemist #full metal alchemist brotherhood #fmab #fmab 40

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thesearchforbluejello · 5 years

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Alright, here’s another minific prompt cause I’m greedy and indecisive: Frankie and Susan, a fistfight, and breaking glass

Frankie's losing her patience.

"But, anyway, that's when I bought my second boat."

"Cool," she says flatly.

He's managed to fit himself between her and Susan at the bar, and he's trying to chat up whichever of them will bite. She's about ready to bite, but not in the way he'd like.

"I love to take you ladies out on it sometime."

He's the kind of guy she'd have had a one night stand with in a second flat before. Handsome, late twenties, with an amount of cologne that betrays an insecurity she could play to her advantage. Susan was having fun flirting with him, but Frankie can tell that she's finally getting bored of him too.

"Sorry," Susan says, "but uh, she's-- she's married."

"Oh," cologne says. "Sorry ma'am." He turns to Susan. "What about you?" he asks with a smile.

"I, uh, no, I'm-- afraid I'm committed too," Susan stutters, trying very obviously to hold back her laughter.

"Okay, well, uh, you ladies have a good night."

Cologne disappears and Frankie finally looks at Susan and lets her jaw drop. "Ma'am? Ma'am?! I went from being invited on a boat to being ma'am? When did I get boring."

"As soon as you say the m-word, you just become, like, poof, undesirable."

"Ugh."

"It's super useful," Susan says.

"Yeah, well, thanks. I think?" Frankie pulls a face. "He was like Will's sprinkler guy cover, except... real."

Susan laughs. "Will and I used to play the married card all the time when we were in Quantico. Super effective. And hilarious. These guys think they're all something and then they turn around and see Captain America behind them and the reaction is priceless," Susan laughs.

Frankie snorts. "Well, if Will's not around, just tell them you're married to me."

Susan laughs again, a pitch higher than usual that tells Frankie she's just as drunk as Frankie feels.

The rest of the night passes marked by shots (three?) (four?) and Frankie is about ready to go stumbling home when something almost intangibly shifts near her and she feels herself sober up a bit as she tries to follow the feeling.

"You okay?" Susan asks.

Frankie turns, listening.

"No, I'm sorry," a woman says.

"Come on. Don't be like that." He's in her personal space, leaned imposingly toward her with his elbow on the bar.

"I just, I should really go home."

"Nah," he says, running a hand along her thigh, "you should come home with me."

Frankie sees the woman shiver, but it's not the kind of shiver that comes from arousal. It's the kind that comes from fear. The man's hand closes around the woman's wrist and his fingers have barely met when Frankie forces herself between them, shoving him back a step.

"She said no."

"The fuck do you care," he snarls. The woman that's behind her has the sense to slip off the stool and edge out from between Frankie and the bar.

"I care because I don't want to see some asshole like you putting your hands on someone who clearly wants nothing to do with you."

"What's your fucking issue, you frigid bitch?"

Frankie actually, genuinely laughs at that.

"Are you fucking laughing at me?" he seethes.

"Oh," she says, "absolutely."

That's really all it takes. He grabs for her and she knocks his hands away before he can get ahold of her shoulders.

"Sweetie, you should leave," Susan says to the woman who's moved further away from Frankie. "Are you okay? Do you need me to call you a cab?"

"No, I'm-- I'm okay. I was supposed to be meeting a friend here; she's on her way. We'll just go home. Is-- is she gonna be okay?" she asks, looking back at Frankie.

Susan laughs. "It's not her I'd be worried about."

Frankie is mad as hell, but if there's one thing she's ever learned it's how to play a situation to her advantage. She waits for him to swing first, takes the hit to her shoulder, and then he's fair game.

She punches him in the solar plexus to knock the wind out of him before she throws him over her hip and onto the wooden floor hard enough to rattle the bottles behind the bar. Then Susan's beside her, suddenly, blocking a punch she didn't see coming. Apparently Asshole brought friends.

After that it's just a straight up brawl.

The guys are drunk but enthusiastic and really it's not a hard fight but Frankie was just looking forward to a quiet night out with Susan.

Somebody throws a bottle and it shatters on the bar, spraying glass into Frankie's face. She feels blood running down her cheek and knows a sharp edge caught her somewhere, but she's a little bit too drunk and a lot too hyped on adrenaline to really feel it.

It isn't until she hears the sirens outside that she realizes Will is going to be pissed.

It's really the last thing Will wants to hear on a Friday night.

"Hey, can you come pick us up?"

He rolls over on the couch so he's laying on his back. "Can't you get a cab?"

"Mm yeah, probably."

"...Okay?"

"Except they don't believe Susan's really an FBI agent."

Will sits up. "What? Where are you?"

"I just texted you the address."

He pulls the phone away to look. "That's a police-- did you guys get arrested?"

"No," Frankie says quickly. "Just... detained."

"Tell me I don't need to post bail."

"I mean... probably not?"

Will scrubs a palm across his face and reaches for the remote to shut off the cheesy Hallmark movie he was just starting to get invested in. "I'm on my way."

Frankie's smiling at him like he's her prom date come to pick her up when he walks in.

"Good to go?" she asks.

"Uh, no. Susan is, but that's because she apparently had a little less to do with the barfight that the two of you apparently got into. Ray's on his way to take her home." She shrugs. "Are you-- are you drunk?"

"Not enough to lose a fight," she says with that smile that's more edge than humor.

Will flips the lid of the first aid kit open. "Definitely drunk, though."

"Only a little, why?"

"Because you get all smiley when you're drunk."

She rolls her eyes. "I don't need that," she says when he starts pulling stuff from the kit and her smile disappears.

"You're joking, right?"

"No," she huffs.

"Have you looked at yourself, then? You look like something out of a horror movie."

"Oh, thanks."

"Sit still," is his only reply.

"Ow, Will."

"Well, sit still." He cleans her up as best he can with the wetwipes from the first aid kit, until there's no longer quite so much blood down the side of her face. "What did you get hit with?"

"Piece of glass."

"Mm." She watches him as he cleans the wound, which is, in essence, just a scratch that had bled a lot as most head wounds do. Seeing it clean finally alleviates the worry that he'd have to talk her into going to get stitches. He puts a butterfly closure on it to make sure it stays closed and finally looks back down at her. "What?"

"You're so cute," she says, wrinkling her nose.

"Gee, thanks."

"Are you mad?"

"Mad?" He flips the kit shut. "Why would I be mad? I love getting called down to a police station on a Friday night because my best friend and my wife got in a barfight."

"But I did not start it," Frankie points out, using her hands to emphasize the "not." The one solace, Will figures, is that at least they didn't handcuff her. Though maybe she'd be less self-righteous about the whole thing if they had. He hates the thought as soon as he thinks it.

"Yes, and I'm proud of you for that," he says. There's only a little sarcasm; he really is proud that she hadn't started it.

Frankie smiles at him and he wonders if that smile will ever stop giving him butterflies. He sure hopes not.

"I'm going to go try to talk these guys into letting you go."

"Will," she says as he turns to leave.

"Yeah?"

"It was for a good reason."

Will sighs. "I know. And I'm sorry for being mad. I just hate worrying."

"I know," she says.

Will waits outside the door when they release her. She slips her hand into his and the city is chilly when they walk out of the station.

"What really happened?" he asks.

Frankie pauses, stopping. "As Standish would say? A fuckboy."

Will can't help himself but laugh at that. She kisses him on the sidewalk in front of the police station and the sheer hilarity of it shouldn't equate to happiness, but it does.

"Thanks for coming to get me," she says.

"I'd bail you out anytime."

"You didn't have to bail me out," she corrects.

"Well, even if I had. And I did, that one time."

"Which time?"

"In Belgium."

"Oh, I was thinking about that time in Nice."

"Oh, no, but I did then too. So twice. Unless you count Argentina."

"Okay, but that one wasn't my fault."

"That is so debatable."

"Please. Like it wasn't your fault you got arrested in Portugal?"

"It wasn't!" Will insists.

"Bullshit," Frankie says, but it's on a laugh.

"Oh sure, and Argentina wasn't your fault. Okay."

She wraps her arm around his waist, tucking herself against his side, and looks up with a smile. "It wasn't."

"Clearly you're too drunk to remember."

Frankie laughs because it's obviously not true. She pinches Will and he knocks his hip into hers to push her a step away but pulls her back to him with a laugh and his arm around her shoulders. She kisses him on the cheek.

"You haven't gotten me that drunk since London. But even that I remember."

"Yeah," Will laughs, "It'd be a shame if you forgot."

"I wouldn't want to," she says.

#this is NOT a minific and im not sorry #asked and answered #minific #my fic #whiskey cavalier #otp: citrus?

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