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Little Women, Louisa May Alcott

Chapter 5-6

BEING NEIGHBORLY.

"What in the world are you going to do now, Jo?" asked Meg, one snowy afternoon, as her sister came tramping through the hall, in rubber boots, old sack and hood, with a broom in one hand and a shovel in the other.

"Going out for exercise," answered Jo, with a mischievous twinkle in her eyes.

"I should think two long walks this morning would have been enough! It's cold and dull out; and I advise you to stay, warm and dry, by the fire, as I do," said Meg, with a shiver.

"Never take advice! Can't keep still all day, and, not being a pussycat, I don't like to doze by the fire. I like adventures, and I'm going to find some."

Meg went back to toast her feet and read "Ivanhoe"; and Jo began to dig paths with great energy. The snow was light, and with her broom she soon swept a path all round the garden, for Beth to walk in when the sun came out; and the invalid dolls needed air. Now, the garden separated the Marches' house from that of Mr. Laurence. Both stood in a suburb of the city, which was still country-like, with groves and lawns, large gardens, and quiet streets. A low 59 hedge parted the two estates. On one side was an old, brown house, looking rather bare and shabby, robbed of the vines that in summer covered its walls, and the flowers which then surrounded it. On the other side was a stately stone mansion, plainly betokening every sort of comfort and luxury, from the big coach-house and well-kept grounds to the conservatory and the glimpses of lovely things one caught between the rich curtains. Yet it seemed a lonely, lifeless sort of house; for no children frolicked on the lawn, no motherly face ever smiled at the windows, and few people went in and out, except the old gentleman and his grandson.

To Jo's lively fancy, this fine house seemed a kind of enchanted palace, full of splendors and delights, which no one enjoyed. She had long wanted to behold these hidden glories, and to know the "Laurence boy," who looked as if he would like to be known, if he only knew how to begin. Since the party, she had been more eager than ever, and had planned many ways of making friends with him; but he had not been seen lately, and Jo began to think he had gone away, when she one day spied a brown face at an upper window, looking wistfully down into their garden, where Beth and Amy were snow-balling one another.

"That boy is suffering for society and fun," she said to herself. "His grandpa does not know what's good for him, and keeps him shut up all alone. He needs a party of jolly boys to play with, or somebody young and lively. I've a great mind to go over and tell the old gentleman so!"

The idea amused Jo, who liked to do daring things, and was always scandalizing Meg by her queer performances. The plan of "going over" was not forgotten; and when the snowy afternoon came, Jo resolved to try what could be done. She saw Mr. Laurence drive off, and then sallied out to dig her way down to the hedge, where she paused, and took a survey. All quiet,—curtains down at the lower windows; servants out of sight, and nothing human visible but a curly black head leaning on a thin hand at the upper window.

"There he is," thought Jo, "poor boy! all alone and sick this dismal day. It's a shame! I'll toss up a snow-ball, and make him 60 look out, and then say a kind word to him."

Up went a handful of soft snow, and the head turned at once, showing a face which lost its listless look in a minute, as the big eyes brightened and the mouth began to smile. Jo nodded and laughed, and flourished her broom as she called out,—

"How do you do? Are you sick?"

Laurie opened the window, and croaked out as hoarsely as a raven,—

"Better, thank you. I've had a bad cold, and been shut up a week."

"I'm sorry. What do you amuse yourself with?"

"Nothing; it's as dull as tombs up here."

"Don't you read?"

"Not much; they won't let me."

"Can't somebody read to you?"

"Grandpa does, sometimes; but my books don't interest him, and I hate to ask Brooke all the time."

"Have some one come and see you, then."

61 "There isn't any one I'd like to see. Boys make such a row, and my head is weak."

"Isn't there some nice girl who'd read and amuse you? Girls are quiet, and like to play nurse."

"Don't know any."

"You know us," began Jo, then laughed, and stopped.

"So I do! Will you come, please?" cried Laurie.

"I'm not quiet and nice; but I'll come, if mother will let me. I'll go ask her. Shut that window, like a good boy, and wait till I come."

With that, Jo shouldered her broom and marched into the house, wondering what they would all say to her. Laurie was in a flutter of excitement at the idea of having company, and flew about to get ready; for, as Mrs. March said, he was "a little gentleman," and did honor to the coming guest by brushing his curly pate, putting on a fresh collar, and trying to tidy up the room, which, in spite of half a dozen servants, was anything but neat. Presently there came a loud ring, then a decided voice, asking for "Mr. Laurie," and a surprised-looking servant came running up to announce a young lady.

"All right, show her up, it's Miss Jo," said Laurie, going to the door of his little parlor to meet Jo, who appeared, looking rosy and kind and quite at her ease, with a covered dish in one hand and Beth's three kittens in the other.

"Here I am, bag and baggage," she said briskly. "Mother sent her love, and was glad if I could do anything for you. Meg wanted me to bring some of her blanc-mange; she makes it very nicely, and Beth thought her cats would be comforting. I knew you'd laugh at them, but I couldn't refuse, she was so anxious to do something."

It so happened that Beth's funny loan was just the thing; for, in laughing over the kits, Laurie forgot his bashfulness, and grew sociable at once.

"That looks too pretty to eat," he said, smiling with pleasure, as Jo uncovered the dish, and showed the blanc-mange, surrounded by a garland of green leaves, and the scarlet flowers of Amy's pet geranium.

62 "It isn't anything, only they all felt kindly, and wanted to show it. Tell the girl to put it away for your tea: it's so simple, you can eat it; and, being soft, it will slip down without hurting your sore throat. What a cosy room this is!"

"It might be if it was kept nice; but the maids are lazy, and I don't know how to make them mind. It worries me, though."

"I'll right it up in two minutes; for it only needs to have the hearth brushed, so,—and the things made straight on the mantel-piece so,—and the books put here, and the bottles there, and your sofa turned from the light, and the pillows plumped up a bit. Now, then, you're fixed."

And so he was; for, as she laughed and talked, Jo had whisked things into place, and given quite a different air to the room. Laurie watched her in respectful silence; and when she beckoned him to his sofa, he sat down with a sigh of satisfaction, saying gratefully,—

"How kind you are! Yes, that's what it wanted. Now please take the big chair, and let me do something to amuse my company."

"No; I came to amuse you. Shall I read aloud?" and Jo looked affectionately toward some inviting books near by.

"Thank you; I've read all those, and if you don't mind, I'd rather talk," answered Laurie.

"Not a bit; I'll talk all day if you'll only set me going. Beth says I never know when to stop."

"Is Beth the rosy one, who stays at home a good deal, and sometimes goes out with a little basket?" asked Laurie, with interest.

"Yes, that's Beth; she's my girl, and a regular good one she is, too."

"The pretty one is Meg, and the curly-haired one is Amy, I believe?"

"How did you find that out?"

Laurie colored up, but answered frankly, "Why, you see, I often hear you calling to one another, and when I'm alone up here, I can't help looking over at your house, you always seem to be having such good times. I beg your pardon for being so rude, but sometimes you forget to put down the curtain at the window where the flowers are; and when the lamps are lighted, it's like looking at a picture to 63 see the fire, and you all round the table with your mother; her face is right opposite, and it looks so sweet behind the flowers, I can't help watching it. I haven't got any mother, you know;" and Laurie poked the fire to hide a little twitching of the lips that he could not control.

The solitary, hungry look in his eyes went straight to Jo's warm heart. She had been so simply taught that there was no nonsense in her head, and at fifteen she was as innocent and frank as any child. Laurie was sick and lonely; and, feeling how rich she was in home-love and happiness, she gladly tried to share it with him. Her face was very friendly and her sharp voice unusually gentle as she said,—

"We'll never draw that curtain any more, and I give you leave to look as much as you like. I just wish, though, instead of peeping, you'd come over and see us. Mother is so splendid, she'd do you heaps of good, and Beth would sing to you if I begged her to, and Amy would dance; Meg and I would make you laugh over our funny stage properties, and we'd have jolly times. Wouldn't your grandpa let you?"

"I think he would, if your mother asked him. He's very kind, though he does not look so; and he lets me do what I like, pretty much, only he's afraid I might be a bother to strangers," began Laurie, brightening more and more.

"We are not strangers, we are neighbors, and you needn't think you'd be a bother. We want to know you, and I've been trying to do it this ever so long. We haven't been here a great while, you know, but we have got acquainted with all our neighbors but you."

"You see grandpa lives among his books, and doesn't mind much what happens outside. Mr. Brooke, my tutor, doesn't stay here, you know, and I have no one to go about with me, so I just stop at home and get on as I can."

"That's bad. You ought to make an effort, and go visiting everywhere you are asked; then you'll have plenty of friends, and pleasant places to go to. Never mind being bashful; it won't last long if you keep going."

Laurie turned red again, but wasn't offended at being accused of 64 bashfulness; for there was so much good-will in Jo, it was impossible not to take her blunt speeches as kindly as they were meant.

"Do you like your school?" asked the boy, changing the subject, after a little pause, during which he stared at the fire, and Jo looked about her, well pleased.

"Don't go to school; I'm a business man—girl, I mean. I go to wait on my great-aunt, and a dear, cross old soul she is, too," answered Jo.

Laurie opened his mouth to ask another question; but remembering just in time that it wasn't manners to make too many inquiries into people's affairs, he shut it again, and looked uncomfortable. Jo liked his good breeding, and didn't mind having a laugh at Aunt March, so she gave him a lively description of the fidgety old lady, her fat poodle, the parrot that talked Spanish, and the library where she revelled. Laurie enjoyed that immensely; and when she told about the prim old gentleman who came once to woo Aunt March, and, in the middle of a fine speech, how Poll had tweaked his wig off to his great dismay, the boy lay back and laughed till the tears ran down his cheeks, and a maid popped her head in to see what was the matter.

"Oh! that does me no end of good. Tell on, please," he said, taking his face out of the sofa-cushion, red and shining with merriment.

65 Much elated with her success, Jo did "tell on," all about their plays and plans, their hopes and fears for father, and the most interesting events of the little world in which the sisters lived. Then they got to talking about books; and to Jo's delight, she found that Laurie loved them as well as she did, and had read even more than herself.

"If you like them so much, come down and see ours. Grandpa is out, so you needn't be afraid," said Laurie, getting up.

"I'm not afraid of anything," returned Jo, with a toss of the head.

"I don't believe you are!" exclaimed the boy, looking at her with much admiration, though he privately thought she would have good reason to be a trifle afraid of the old gentleman, if she met him in some of his moods.

The atmosphere of the whole house being summer-like, Laurie led the way from room to room, letting Jo stop to examine whatever struck her fancy; and so at last they came to the library, where she clapped her hands, and pranced, as she always did when especially delighted. It was lined with books, and there were pictures and statues, and distracting little cabinets full of coins and curiosities, and sleepy-hollow chairs, and queer tables, and bronzes; and, best of all, a great open fireplace, with quaint tiles all round it.

"What richness!" sighed Jo, sinking into the depth of a velvet chair, and gazing about her with an air of intense satisfaction. "Theodore Laurence, you ought to be the happiest boy in the world," she added impressively.

"A fellow can't live on books," said Laurie, shaking his head, as he perched on a table opposite.

Before he could say more, a bell rung, and Jo flew up, exclaiming with alarm, "Mercy me! it's your grandpa!"

"Well, what if it is? You are not afraid of anything, you know," returned the boy, looking wicked.

"I think I am a little bit afraid of him, but I don't know why I should be. Marmee said I might come, and I don't think you're any the worse for it," said Jo, composing herself, though she kept her eyes on the door.

"I'm a great deal better for it, and ever so much obliged. I'm 66 only afraid you are very tired talking to me; it was so pleasant, I couldn't bear to stop," said Laurie gratefully.

"The doctor to see you, sir," and the maid beckoned as she spoke.

"Would you mind if I left you for a minute? I suppose I must see him," said Laurie.

"Don't mind me. I'm as happy as a cricket here," answered Jo.

Laurie went away, and his guest amused herself in her own way. She was standing before a fine portrait of the old gentleman, when the door opened again, and, without turning, she said decidedly, "I'm sure now that I shouldn't be afraid of him, for he's got kind eyes, though his mouth is grim, and he looks as if he had a tremendous will of his own. He isn't as handsome as my grandfather, but I like him."

"Thank you, ma'am," said a gruff voice behind her; and there, to her great dismay, stood old Mr. Laurence.

Poor Jo blushed till she couldn't blush any redder, and her heart began to beat uncomfortably fast as she thought what she had said. For a minute a wild desire to run away possessed her; but that was cowardly, and the girls would laugh at her: so she resolved to stay, and get out of the scrape as she could. A second look showed her that the living eyes, under the bushy gray eyebrows, were kinder even than the painted ones; and there was a sly twinkle in them, which lessened her fear a good deal. The gruff voice was gruffer than ever, as the old gentleman said abruptly, after that dreadful pause, "So you're not afraid of me, hey?"

"Not much, sir."

"And you don't think me as handsome as your grandfather?"

"Not quite, sir."

"And I've got a tremendous will, have I?"

"I only said I thought so."

"But you like me, in spite of it?"

"Yes, I do, sir."

That answer pleased the old gentleman; he gave a short laugh, shook hands with her, and, putting his finger under her chin, turned up her face, examined it gravely, and let it go, saying, with a nod, 67 "You've got your grandfather's spirit, if you haven't his face. He was a fine man, my dear; but, what is better, he was a brave and an honest one, and I was proud to be his friend."

"Thank you, sir;" and Jo was quite comfortable after that, for it suited her exactly.

"What have you been doing to this boy of mine, hey?" was the next question, sharply put.

"Only trying to be neighborly, sir;" and Jo told how her visit came about.

"You think he needs cheering up a bit, do you?"

"Yes, sir; he seems a little lonely, and young folks would do him good perhaps. We are only girls, but we should be glad to help if we could, for we don't forget the splendid Christmas present you sent us," said Jo eagerly.

"Tut, tut, tut! that was the boy's affair. How is the poor woman?"

"Doing nicely, sir;" and off went Jo, talking very fast, as she told all about the Hummels, in whom her mother had interested richer friends than they were.

"Just her father's way of doing good. I shall come and see your mother some fine day. Tell her so. There's the tea-bell; we have it early, on the boy's account. Come down, and go on being neighborly."

68 "If you'd like to have me, sir."

"Shouldn't ask you, if I didn't;" and Mr. Laurence offered her his arm with old-fashioned courtesy.

"What would Meg say to this?" thought Jo, as she was marched away, while her eyes danced with fun as she imagined herself telling the story at home.

"Hey! Why, what the dickens has come to the fellow?" said the old gentleman, as Laurie came running down stairs, and brought up with a start of surprise at the astonishing sight of Jo arm-in-arm with his redoubtable grandfather.

"I didn't know you'd come, sir," he began, as Jo gave him a triumphant little glance.

"That's evident, by the way you racket down stairs. Come to your tea, sir, and behave like a gentleman;" and having pulled the boy's hair by way of a caress, Mr. Laurence walked on, while Laurie went through a series of comic evolutions behind their backs, which nearly produced an explosion of laughter from Jo.

The old gentleman did not say much as he drank his four cups of tea, but he watched the young people, who soon chatted away like old friends, and the change in his grandson did not escape him. There was color, light, and life in the boy's face now, vivacity in his manner, and genuine merriment in his laugh.

"She's right; the lad is lonely. I'll see what these little girls can do for him," thought Mr. Laurence, as he looked and listened. He liked Jo, for her odd, blunt ways suited him; and she seemed to understand the boy almost as well as if she had been one herself.

If the Laurences had been what Jo called "prim and poky," she would not have got on at all, for such people always made her shy and awkward; but finding them free and easy, she was so herself, and made a good impression. When they rose she proposed to go, but Laurie said he had something more to show her, and took her away to the conservatory, which had been lighted for her benefit. It seemed quite fairylike to Jo, as she went up and down the walks, enjoying the blooming walls on either side, the soft light, the damp sweet air, and the wonderful vines and trees that hung above her,—while 69 her new friend cut the finest flowers till his hands were full; then he tied them up, saying, with the happy look Jo liked to see, "Please give these to your mother, and tell her I like the medicine she sent me very much."

They found Mr. Laurence standing before the fire in the great drawing-room, but Jo's attention was entirely absorbed by a grand piano, which stood open.

"Do you play?" she asked, turning to Laurie with a respectful expression.

"Sometimes," he answered modestly.

"Please do now. I want to hear it, so I can tell Beth."

"Won't you first?"

"Don't know how; too stupid to learn, but I love music dearly."

So Laurie played, and Jo listened, with her nose luxuriously buried 70 in heliotrope and tea-roses. Her respect and regard for the "Laurence boy" increased very much, for he played remarkably well, and didn't put on any airs. She wished Beth could hear him, but she did not say so; only praised him till he was quite abashed, and his grandfather came to the rescue. "That will do, that will do, young lady. Too many sugar-plums are not good for him. His music isn't bad, but I hope he will do as well in more important things. Going? Well, I'm much obliged to you, and I hope you'll come again. My respects to your mother. Good-night, Doctor Jo."

He shook hands kindly, but looked as if something did not please him. When they got into the hall, Jo asked Laurie if she had said anything amiss. He shook his head.

"No, it was me; he doesn't like to hear me play."

"Why not?"

"I'll tell you some day. John is going home with you, as I can't."

"No need of that; I am not a young lady, and it's only a step. Take care of yourself, won't you?"

"Yes; but you will come again, I hope?"

"If you promise to come and see us after you are well."

"I will."

"Good-night, Laurie!"

"Good-night, Jo, good-night!"

When all the afternoon's adventures had been told, the family felt inclined to go visiting in a body, for each found something very attractive in the big house on the other side of the hedge. Mrs. March wanted to talk of her father with the old man who had not forgotten him; Meg longed to walk in the conservatory; Beth sighed for the grand piano; and Amy was eager to see the fine pictures and statues.

"Mother, why didn't Mr. Laurence like to have Laurie play?" asked Jo, who was of an inquiring disposition.

"I am not sure, but I think it was because his son, Laurie's father, married an Italian lady, a musician, which displeased the old man, who is very proud. The lady was good and lovely and accomplished, but he did not like her, and never saw his son after he married. 71 They both died when Laurie was a little child, and then his grandfather took him home. I fancy the boy, who was born in Italy, is not very strong, and the old man is afraid of losing him, which makes him so careful. Laurie comes naturally by his love of music, for he is like his mother, and I dare say his grandfather fears that he may want to be a musician; at any rate, his skill reminds him of the woman he did not like, and so he 'glowered,' as Jo said."

"Dear me, how romantic!" exclaimed Meg.

"How silly!" said Jo. "Let him be a musician, if he wants to, and not plague his life out sending him to college, when he hates to go."

"That's why he has such handsome black eyes and pretty manners, I suppose. Italians are always nice," said Meg, who was a little sentimental.

"What do you know about his eyes and his manners? You never spoke to him, hardly," cried Jo, who was not sentimental.

"I saw him at the party, and what you tell shows that he knows how to behave. That was a nice little speech about the medicine mother sent him."

"He meant the blanc-mange, I suppose."

"How stupid you are, child! He meant you, of course."

"Did he?" and Jo opened her eyes as if it had never occurred to her before.

"I never saw such a girl! You don't know a compliment when you get it," said Meg, with the air of a young lady who knew all about the matter.

"I think they are great nonsense, and I'll thank you not to be silly, and spoil my fun. Laurie's a nice boy, and I like him, and I won't have any sentimental stuff about compliments and such rubbish. We'll all be good to him, because he hasn't got any mother, and he may come over and see us, mayn't he, Marmee?"

"Yes, Jo, your little friend is very welcome, and I hope Meg will remember that children should be children as long as they can."

"I don't call myself a child, and I'm not in my teens yet," observed Amy. "What do you say, Beth?"

72 "I was thinking about our 'Pilgrim's Progress,'" answered Beth, who had not heard a word. "How we got out of the Slough and through the Wicket Gate by resolving to be good, and up the steep hill by trying; and that maybe the house over there, full of splendid things, is going to be our Palace Beautiful."

"We have got to get by the lions, first," said Jo, as if she rather liked the prospect.

VI. Beth finds the Palace Beautiful.

VI.

BETH FINDS THE PALACE BEAUTIFUL.

The big house did prove a Palace Beautiful, though it took some time for all to get in, and Beth found it very hard to pass the lions. Old Mr. Laurence was the biggest one; but after he had called, said something funny or kind to each one of the girls, and talked over old times with their mother, nobody felt much afraid of him, except timid Beth. The other lion was the fact that they were poor and Laurie rich; for this made them shy of accepting favors which they could not return. But, after a while, they found that he considered them the benefactors, and could not do enough to show how grateful he was for Mrs. March's motherly welcome, their cheerful society, and the comfort he took in that humble home of theirs. So they soon forgot their pride, and interchanged kindnesses without stopping to think which was the greater.

All sorts of pleasant things happened about that time; for the new friendship flourished like grass in spring. Every one liked Laurie, and he privately informed his tutor that "the Marches were regularly splendid girls." With the delightful enthusiasm of youth, they took the solitary boy into their midst, and made much of him, and he found something very charming in the innocent companionship of these simple-hearted girls. Never having known mother or sisters, he was quick to feel the influences they brought about him; and their busy, lively ways made him ashamed of the indolent life he led. He was tired of books, and found people so interesting now that Mr. Brooke was obliged to make very unsatisfactory reports; for Laurie was always playing truant, and running over to the Marches.

"Never mind; let him take a holiday, and make it up afterwards," said the old gentleman. "The good lady next door says he is studying 74 too hard, and needs young society, amusement, and exercise. I suspect she is right, and that I've been coddling the fellow as if I'd been his grandmother. Let him do what he likes, as long as he is happy. He can't get into mischief in that little nunnery over there; and Mrs. March is doing more for him than we can."

What good times they had, to be sure! Such plays and tableaux, such sleigh-rides and skating frolics, such pleasant evenings in the old parlor, and now and then such gay little parties at the great house. Meg could walk in the conservatory whenever she liked, and revel in bouquets; Jo browsed over the new library voraciously, and convulsed the old gentleman with her criticisms; Amy copied pictures, and enjoyed beauty to her heart's content; and Laurie played "lord of the manor" in the most delightful style.

But Beth, though yearning for the grand piano, could not pluck up courage to go to the "Mansion of Bliss," as Meg called it. She went once with Jo; but the old gentleman, not being aware of her infirmity, stared at her so hard from under his heavy eyebrows, and said "Hey!" so loud, that he frightened her so much her "feet chattered on the floor," she told her mother; and she ran away, declaring she would never go there any more, not even for the dear piano. No persuasions or enticements could overcome her fear, till, the fact coming to Mr. Laurence's ear in some mysterious way, he set about mending matters. During one of the brief calls he made, he artfully led the conversation to music, and talked away about great singers whom he had seen, fine organs he had heard, and told such charming anecdotes that Beth found it impossible to stay in her distant corner, but crept nearer and nearer, as if fascinated. At the back of his chair she stopped, and stood listening, with her great eyes wide open, and her cheeks red with the excitement of this unusual performance. Taking no more notice of her than if she had been a fly, Mr. Laurence talked on about Laurie's lessons and teachers; and presently, as if the idea had just occurred to him, he said to Mrs. March,—

"The boy neglects his music now, and I'm glad of it, for he was getting too fond of it. But the piano suffers for want of use. Wouldn't some of your girls like to run over, and practise on it now and then, just to keep it in tune, you know, ma'am?"

75 Beth took a step forward, and pressed her hands tightly together to keep from clapping them, for this was an irresistible temptation; and the thought of practising on that splendid instrument quite took her breath away. Before Mrs. March could reply, Mr. Laurence went on with an odd little nod and smile,—

"They needn't see or speak to any one, but run in at any time; for I'm shut up in my study at the other end of the house, Laurie is out a great deal, and the servants are never near the drawing-room after nine o'clock."

Here he rose, as if going, and Beth made up her mind to speak, for that last arrangement left nothing to be desired. "Please tell the young ladies what I say; and if they don't care to come, why, never mind." 76 Here a little hand slipped into his, and Beth looked up at him with a face full of gratitude, as she said, in her earnest yet timid way,—

"O sir, they do care, very, very much!"

"Are you the musical girl?" he asked, without any startling "Hey!" as he looked down at her very kindly.

"I'm Beth. I love it dearly, and I'll come, if you are quite sure nobody will hear me—and be disturbed," she added, fearing to be rude, and trembling at her own boldness as she spoke.

"Not a soul, my dear. The house is empty half the day; so come, and drum away as much as you like, and I shall be obliged to you."

"How kind you are, sir!"

Beth blushed like a rose under the friendly look he wore; but she was not frightened now, and gave the big hand a grateful squeeze, because she had no words to thank him for the precious gift he had given her. The old gentleman softly stroked the hair off her forehead, and, stooping down, he kissed her, saying, in a tone few people ever heard,—

"I had a little girl once, with eyes like these. God bless you, my dear! Good day, madam;" and away he went, in a great hurry.

Beth had a rapture with her mother, and then rushed up to impart the glorious news to her family of invalids, as the girls were not at home. How blithely she sung that evening, and how they all laughed at her, because she woke Amy in the night by playing the piano on her face in her sleep. Next day, having seen both the old and young gentleman out of the house, Beth, after two or three retreats, fairly got in at the side-door, and made her way, as noiselessly as any mouse, to the drawing-room, where her idol stood. Quite by accident, of course, some pretty, easy music lay on the piano; and, with trembling fingers, and frequent stops to listen and look about, Beth at last touched the great instrument, and straightway forgot her fear, herself, and everything else but the unspeakable delight which the music gave her, for it was like the voice of a beloved friend.

She stayed till Hannah came to take her home to dinner; but she had no appetite, and could only sit and smile upon every one in a general state of beatitude.

After that, the little brown hood slipped through the hedge nearly every day, and the great drawing-room was haunted by a tuneful spirit that came and went unseen. She never knew that Mr. Laurence often opened his study-door to hear the old-fashioned airs he liked; she never saw Laurie mount guard in the hall to warn the servants away; she never suspected that the exercise-books and new songs which she found in the rack were put there for her especial benefit; and when he talked to her about music at home, she only thought how kind he was to tell things that helped her so much. So she enjoyed herself heartily, and found, what isn't always the case, that her granted wish was all she had hoped. Perhaps it was because she was so grateful for this blessing that a greater was given her; at any rate, she deserved both.

"Mother, I'm going to work Mr. Laurence a pair of slippers. He is so kind to me, I must thank him, and I don't know any other way. Can I do it?" asked Beth, a few weeks after that eventful call of his.

"Yes, dear. It will please him very much, and be a nice way of thanking him. The girls will help you about them, and I will pay for the making up," replied Mrs. March, who took peculiar pleasure in granting Beth's requests, because she so seldom asked anything for herself.

78 After many serious discussions with Meg and Jo, the pattern was chosen, the materials bought, and the slippers begun. A cluster of grave yet cheerful pansies, on a deeper purple ground, was pronounced very appropriate and pretty; and Beth worked away early and late, with occasional lifts over hard parts. She was a nimble little needle-woman, and they were finished before any one got tired of them. Then she wrote a very short, simple note, and, with Laurie's help, got them smuggled on to the study-table one morning before the old gentleman was up.

When this excitement was over, Beth waited to see what would happen. All that day passed, and a part of the next, before any acknowledgment arrived, and she was beginning to fear she had offended her crotchety friend. On the afternoon of the second day, she went out to do an errand, and give poor Joanna, the invalid doll, her daily exercise. As she came up the street, on her return, she saw three, yes, four, heads popping in and out of the parlor windows, and the moment they saw her, several hands were waved, and several joyful voices screamed,—

"Here's a letter from the old gentleman! Come quick, and read it!"

"O Beth, he's sent you—" began Amy, gesticulating with unseemly energy; but she got no further, for Jo quenched her by slamming down the window.

Beth hurried on in a flutter of suspense. At the door, her sisters seized and bore her to the parlor in a triumphal procession, all pointing, and all saying at once, "Look there! look there!" Beth did look, and turned pale with delight and surprise; for there stood a little cabinet-piano, with a letter lying on the glossy lid, directed, like a sign-board, to "Miss Elizabeth March."

"For me?" gasped Beth, holding on to Jo, and feeling as if she should tumble down, it was such an overwhelming thing altogether.

"Yes; all for you, my precious! Isn't it splendid of him? Don't you think he's the dearest old man in the world? Here's the key in the letter. We didn't open it, but we are dying to know what he says," cried Jo, hugging her sister, and offering the note.

79 "You read it! I can't, I feel so queer! Oh, it is too lovely!" and Beth hid her face in Jo's apron, quite upset by her present.

Jo opened the paper, and began to laugh, for the first words she saw were,—

"How nice it sounds! I wish some one would write to me so!" said Amy, who thought the old-fashioned address very elegant.

"There, Beth, that's an honor to be proud of, I'm sure! Laurie told me how fond Mr. Laurence used to be of the child who died, and how he kept all her little things carefully. Just think, he's given you her piano. That comes of having big blue eyes and loving music," said Jo, trying to soothe Beth, who trembled, and looked more excited than she had ever been before.

"See the cunning brackets to hold candles, and the nice green silk, puckered up, with a gold rose in the middle, and the pretty rack and stool, all complete," added Meg, opening the instrument and displaying its beauties.

"'Your humble servant, James Laurence'; only think of his writing that to you. I'll tell the girls. They'll think it's splendid," said Amy, much impressed by the note.

"Try it, honey. Let's hear the sound of the baby-pianny," said Hannah, who always took a share in the family joys and sorrows.

80 So Beth tried it; and every one pronounced it the most remarkable piano ever heard. It had evidently been newly tuned and put in apple-pie order; but, perfect as it was, I think the real charm of it lay in the happiest of all happy faces which leaned over it, as Beth lovingly touched the beautiful black and white keys and pressed the bright pedals.

"You'll have to go and thank him," said Jo, by way of a joke; for the idea of the child's really going never entered her head.

"Yes, I mean to. I guess I'll go now, before I get frightened thinking about it." And, to the utter amazement of the assembled family, Beth walked deliberately down the garden, through the hedge, and in at the Laurences' door.

"Well, I wish I may die if it ain't the queerest thing I ever see! The pianny has turned her head! She'd never have gone in her right mind," cried Hannah, staring after her, while the girls were rendered quite speechless by the miracle.

They would have been still more amazed if they had seen what Beth did afterward. If you will believe me, she went and knocked at the study-door before she gave herself time to think; and when a gruff voice called out, "Come in!" she did go in, right up to Mr. Laurence, who looked quite taken aback, and held out her hand, saying, with only a small quaver in her voice, "I came to thank you, sir, for—" But she didn't finish; for he looked so friendly that she forgot her speech, and, only remembering that he had lost the little girl he loved, she put both arms round his neck, and kissed him.

If the roof of the house had suddenly flown off, the old gentleman wouldn't have been more astonished; but he liked it,—oh, dear, yes, he liked it amazingly!—and was so touched and pleased by that confiding little kiss that all his crustiness vanished; and he just set her on his knee, and laid his wrinkled cheek against her rosy one, feeling as if he had got his own little granddaughter back again. Beth ceased to fear him from that moment, and sat there talking to him as cosily as if she had known him all her life; for love casts out fear, and gratitude can conquer pride. When she went home, he walked with her to her own gate, shook hands cordially, and touched 81 his hat as he marched back again, looking very stately and erect, like a handsome, soldierly old gentleman, as he was.

When the girls saw that performance, Jo began to dance a jig, by way of expressing her satisfaction; Amy nearly fell out of the window in her surprise; and Meg exclaimed, with uplifted hands, "Well, I do believe the world is coming to an end!"

#hellsitesonlybookclub #Alcott #Little Women #bookblr

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supercantaloupe · 5 years

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this oklahoma fucks

my thoughts on the oklahoma revival (6/8/19 matinee) under the cut!

this show. i was absolutely blown away. i see a lot of shows (one glance at my theater page will tell you that much...) and at this point it’s rare that i see something which i feel in my gut from start to finish how incredible it is, but, wow, oklahoma lives up to the hype. it’s 2 hours and 45 minutes plus a 15 minute intermission, and i swear i didn’t stop grinning or giggling for that entire 3 hours.

it’s also sometimes a rarity now for me to go into a show blind. i certainly was familiar with oklahoma before today -- i knew the basic storyline, i’d even heard some of the songs from this cast, and hell, the musical’s almost a century old (it basically founded the modern broadway musical!) -- but i didn’t know it very intimately going in. from the moment i entered that theater, though, i was enraptured.

the show has a comfortable feel to it, with its old-timey wild-west drawling dialect and a loveable-as-always rogers & hammerstein score, but it’s reimagined in a way that makes it feel both completely new and completely familiar at once. it’s an intimate theatrical experience, one i haven’t really felt since great comet took its final bows. i’ve always been a fan of intimate and innovative productions but this show really excelled. playing in the round is the perfect way to welcome an audience into your world on a personal level, but oklahoma takes it a step further. there isn’t even a shift in lighting from the beginning of the show; it looks the same from the momeny you walk in and sit down through the first two numbers. it’s a small detail but it really works wonders in creating a world that the audience feels a welcome part in from the get-go. and that’s not even mentioning the tables onstage, the crockpots full of chili, the table of yet-to-be-made cornbread (all of which gets to be enjoyed by the audience during intermission!). and the string band right there on stage! with pedal steel and mandolin and banjo! what better way to welcome your audience into your world than to incorporate real elements of americana: a barnyard hoedown, a cultural centerpiece in american mythos and identity. (plus, i’m always a sucker for country twang in my music and a band onstage. pit musicians never get enough love!)

and man oh man, the cast. they are all phenomenal. my selected and personal commendations go out to mary testa, whose aunt eller COMMANDED the room and oozed a lovable familial flavor; ali stroker, for her charming, bubbly, and completely endearing brand of wildness in her portrayal of ado annie; patrick vaill, for his deeply chilling performance as jud; rebecca naomi jones, for the surprisingly deep layers of thought and emotion she brings to her laurey; and to damon daunno, for his downright enchanting vocal performance, southern drawl, and ass-waggling swagger all the way to the drama of his more serious scenes, like in “poor jud is dead” and the wedding (dudes got raaaaange. just sayin.). i need a cast album immediately!

it needs to be mentioned how much personality and charm put into every aspect of each actor’s performances. the choreography was just wonderful, from the corn-shucking “many a new day” to curly and will prancing around the stage slapping their thighs (there’s a lot of chaps and a lot of ass wiggling in this show. make your peace with that right away.) to the delightful hoedown-style group dancing in “farmer and the cowman”. i’m absolutely delighted at how seamlessly integrated the wheelchair-bound ali stroker is in every aspect of choreography -- it’s skillful, it’s full of personality, it’s unique and fun to watch. really the only choreography (and really the only scene in general) that i failed to fully appreciate was the dream ballet: as cool as it was, i personally am just Not A Dancer in any shape or form and such an interpretive, almost contextless solo dance kind of flew over my head. i still appreciate the artistry and skill involved in it but i’m sure there are other people out there who got a lot more out of that scene than i did.

to take a moment to appreciate the more technical aspects of the show: firstly, i was impressed by the subtlety employed in the sound design. i’m pretty sure all the actors were all wearing body mics (pretty much standard practice nowadays), though they were either very hard or downright impossible to spy. (nice job to the costume and hair departments for concealing those even from audiences so close!) my theory is that the mics were placed higher up on the actors’ heads, effectively concealing them in their hair and distancing the mic from their mouths -- thereby lessening their ability to pic up the actor’s voices. in a huge, proscenium-style theater, that’d be a problem, but here, in a theater and a show where intimacy is the name of the game, that works. you still heard the actors’ voices from where they were onstage, not just pumped in from speakers (if they were at all!). effects were used sparingly but to great effect: i noticed even in the opening number the reverb effect used only at the ends of certain words or lines to evoke the echoing of a voice over the prairie, which i thought was a very nice touch. and in addition to body mics there were handheld and stage mics, which indeed functioned as handheld and stage mics, with a clear auditory difference between when the actors used them and when they didn’t. again, this built up the believability and intimacy of the world, as well as contributing another layer of coolness to certain scenes (like “poor jud is dead”, which is done almost entirely in the dark and almost entirely on one handheld mic between curly and jud. the upped volume and closeness evoked using the handheld mic brought the entire audience in that much closer into that small and intimate space of the smokehouse and heightened the tension masterfully.)

and, oh my god, the lighting. the biggest snub of the tonys this year is oklahoma not even getting a NOMINATION (atw turn on your location i just wanna talk). i mentioned before those house lights not changing from when you enter the theater through the first few numbers but when they do -- when curly and laurey lock eyes and really consider each other -- there’s a sudden and unexpected shift, going from the bright full house lights to dark everywhere, with the stage lit completely in a dreamlike green. and just as quickly as it came it goes, snapping back to those full house lights again. what a simple but very strong way to convey a message! the show also makes really great use of directional lighting, projection, and colored ambient lighting, with the latter i find particularly notable in the late part of the barn party scene when laurey has her encounters with jud and curly (with these interactions lit a cool and creepy red, mostly by the colored fairy lights strung from the ceiling among the streamers). also an effective surprise is this show’s use of blackouts, its use of complete darkness. i’ve seen a lot of shows but i’ve NEVER seen a show use a blackout like this before.

for example, in the scene leading up to “poor jud is dead”, when curly goes to talk to jud in the smokehouse, the lights suddenly cut out, entirely, like we’ve stepped into a dark and sordid little corner of the world, jud’s domain. the whole beginning of this scene is played ENTIRELY in the dark, with naught but the sound of the two men’s conversation to tell us what’s going on. it’s creepy as hell and so effective. and then, as curly sings, a projector comes on, shining onto the back wall of the theater, an extreme black-and-white closeup, first of jud, then of curly, and of the two of them together, literally being broadcast from a camera held right up then and there. and after the song, after the projection fades away, we get a single spotlight, a pinpoint of light streaming from above; it shines onto the table directly between the two men, illuminating that patch of space, casting an eerie glow on the scene. and then, finally, the end, when auntie eller walks in, and the lights fade up just a bit, like would realistically happen if someone cracked open the door in a dark room. everything about the lighting in this scene plays up the creepiness of jud, the unpredictability of his madness, it plays with the suspicion and nerves of the audience by literally depriving them of information in the form of visuals. it plays similarly to jud’s and laurey’s encounter in act ii, when the lights cut to complete black again as he kisses her. we can’t see them, but we hear everything: kissing. metal clinking. footsteps, retreating. and then, those red party lights fade in, just enough to see laurey retreat to the opposite end of the stage, just enough to see jud’s unbuckled belt and confused, angry expression.

yeah, this oklahoma doesn’t pull its punches when it comes to jud. they make it crystal fucking clear who he is and what he’s trying to do. the lights, the sound, the whole production works to this end. and it doesn’t pull its punches with its finale, either. those of you familiar with the original show know that jud shows up to the wedding with a knife, and after a skirmish with curly, ends up falling on it and dying. this oklahoma did something else: jud shows up, asking only for a kiss from the bride and to give a gift to the groom. inside the box he brings is a shiny pistol, thrust into curly’s hand and trained on jud, standing open and ready for death, a forced assisted suicide. and after several long, tense, silent seconds, curly pulls the trigger. (i actually wasn’t even sure if they were going to go that far, but, yeah, they did that.) and the blood that splatters both on jud’s shirt and on the faces and white wedding outfits of laurey and curly is copious, and raw. it stays there for the rest of the show, a reminder. the finale ultimo is no longer a happy, triumphant reprise of the title number. it’s sung, powerfully and communally, by everyone with dead-fucking-straight faces.

this isn’t your grandmother’s oklahoma, that’s for sure.

what it is is a fantastic new staging of one of the biggest, most familiar classic pieces of american theater ever written. it’s simultaneously a back-to-its-roots retelling and a refreshing new take of classic material. it manages to be fresh and nostalgic, old and contemporary, mythologized and contemporary all at once. it’s not quite a masterpiece, but it’s damn near close to it.

in short, i haven’t seen a show this good in a long time. if you get the chance, you should too. it’s not one you’ll want to miss.

#sasha reviews #sasha speaks #i wanna talk about me #oklahoma #broadway #THIS TURNED OUT SO FUCKING LONG LMAO ENJOY IF YOU ACTUALLY READ ALL OF IT #i had so much to say!! i had so many thoughts!! this didnt even cover everything!!#but the stuff i left out wasnt as relevant to a review #ALSO UH. SPOILERS FOR OKLAHOMA #if anyones into that #either if you care about spoiling the plot of a 75+ year old musical or this production specifically #big spoilers #i didnt even get to mention it because i didnt know where to fit it in but !! will + ado annie + ali are so fucking funny they have #some of the best interactions in this show #laurie and curly are so soft #will + ado annie + ali hakim are all completely fucking over the top all the time #and its a great foil to the drama wit hjud without being Too Much #i didnt even get to talk about all great lighting cues in this #GIVE THIS SHOW ITS RIGHTFULLY DESERVED TONY ATW YOU COWARDS #and there were some hilarious little details in the acting that i didnt get to mention either #like when will just fuckin laid down on a table and when ado annie took too much of a liking to ali hakim #he just sat right fuckin up with a crock pot between his legs and lifted up the lid and wafted the fucking steam around his crotch #god. the assless chaps he and curly wear emphasize the crotch and the ass so fucking much #theres a lot of cute and just-this-side-of-racy little touches to the acting that add to the charm and humor of everything #and. god.#i love this fucking show. alright.#oklahoma!#ok19

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zeppelin-and-unicorns · 3 years

Photo

So, as I said in a previous post, I spent the whole night yesterday making picrews, and I thought: “Why not make picrews of the fictional family that I love more than everything in this world?”

Anyway, here they are! This is a close representation of how I picture the Hyde family whenever I think about the TSG universe (I am going to come up with a different name for this universe one day I promise). I am also going to give you guys some glimpses about their quirks and their personalities, so, click on the thingy if you’re interested on reading that.

Unfortunaly, it was impossible to make Jackie and Gracie’s eyes the way I picture them (mismatched, lol. I know this is a controversial topic but every single time I see the show I notice how Jackie’s eyes are different colors and I add that to every single one of my fics. It’s one of her little flaws that only makes her more perfect). So just pretend that one of their eyes is blue-ish, and the other one is green-ish.

Oh, and as I post more and more picrews, you might notice that out of all the adults characters from the TSG universe, Jackie’s the only one who doesn’t have any wrinkles. Years of a very strict skincare routine payed off really well for her.

Hyde grew his beard back, mostly because I always picture him with a beard when he’s older. Oh, and sorry for the lack of sunglasses, he stopped wearing them everyday when Dylan was a baby (he kept taking them off his face and throwing them at the ground lol).

On the left, we see Layla, the eldest and the wisest from all the three kids. The age gap between her and her siblings is big, so they always run to her when they need advice about something.

Layla’s a lot like Jackie, she cares about her looks, she’s a social butterfly, and she’s probably the most popular girl in school. She’s not shallow though, nor does she have the superiority complex Jackie had in the first few seasons of the show, Hyde and Jackie made sure to raise her well.

Layla’s also a bookworm, and a big romantic at heart. One of her dreams is to publish an epic romance novel, and writing is probably one of her favorite things in the entire world. She has this little red notebook filled with heart stickers in the cover where she often writes poems -- and Jackie is the only person allowed to read said poems.

Her hair is naturally wavy (as showed in the picture), but she starts to straighten it when she’s older. She grew up in the 90s after all.

Then there’s Dylan, or as I like to call him, the Hyde’s little evil spawn.

Don’t get me wrong here, Dylan is literally so sweet, and he cares about his family more than anything in the world. He’s a sucker for his mom’s hugs and he wants to be like Hyde in the future, but he also has a lot of pent up energy, which tends to put him into some pretty funny situations.

Dylan has a partner in crime, his name’s Jordan and he’s Fez and Laurie’s son (I’ll post a picrew of him later too). I’ve based Dylan and Jordan’s friendship on the Weasley twins from Harry Potter, they are natural pranksters and they drive Laurie and Jackie insane. Red helps the duo out with their pranks sometimes, claiming it’s “payback” for all the years he had to tolerate his son and his dumbasses friends mooching off him and making his life “miserable”. Dylan and Red also have a cute bond, we’ll see more of that in the sequel.

As he grows older, Dylan gets tall. Like, Jackie’s a midget next to him, guys (that doesn’t stop her from coddling him though). No one knows where he’s got that height from, and he uses that to his advantage (by placing Jackie and Layla’s Pop music CDs on high places that they couldn’t possibly reach just to mess with them. Oh, and he also joins the basketball team lol).

He’s very protective of his family, like, really protective, and he doesn’t take shit from anyone. He has a special soft spot for Hannah (Eric and Donna’s younger daughter). Hannah is a year older than him, and she’s hearing impaired. One day a guy from school stole her hearing aid to mess with her, and he got the beating of a lifetime. Dylan was suspended and Jackie went to the school to yell at the principal and defend her son, because she’s that kind of mom.

Don’t get any wrong ideas about Dylan and Hannah though, they were raised like siblings.

Dylan’s very into cars (another thing in common he has with Red), and when Hyde finally gives him the Camino, he babies the fuck out of it.

And last but not least... Gracie. Or Erica, as Eric likes to remind everyone about it.

Gracie will only be three years old in the sequel, so we won’t see a lot of her personality, but as I said many times, I do plan on writing one-shots about the kids when they’re older once the sequel is done, so...

Hyde has a special nickname for her, he calls her his little “Goldilocks” because her hair is curly and it’s almost a golden color. She’s a very smart kid and she’s always drawing.

Seriously, Jackie and Hyde’s fridge is filled with Gracie’s drawings, it’s the sweetest thing. They never threw a single drawing of her away, they always keep them, and they incentivize her as much as possible when she’s growing up.

She grows up to be an artsy person, and she’s very talented. She’s not a social butterfly like Layla, nor is she a “badass” like Dylan, she’s an introvert, she likes to stay home with her parents (she loves her parents so much) and have movie marathons with them on the weekends instead of going out to party.

She hangs out a lot with Katie (Fez and Laurie’s youngest daughter), who’s her best friend and her complete opposite, they have a bunch of sleepovers where they watch a ton of horror movies together and stuff their faces with ice cream. Their friendship is really something else, and she’s the first person Gracie comes out to (yup, Gracie’s a lesbian).

Gracie and Eric are very close, and she gets him very into Harry Potter. It’s funny, because Eric insists that he’s a Gryffindor, and Gracie tells him he’s totally a Hufflepuff, which makes him mad and they end up bickering because of it. But overall, they love each other a lot, and Eric’s a father figure to her.

Her relationship with Jackie and Hyde is beautiful. She’s not afraid of asking them for cuddles when she’s feeling down, and they are literally her biggest supporters. When Layla moves out for good (insert very sad Jackie and Hyde noises), they turn her room into a mini art studio for Gracie, and she spends most of her days there, listening to music and painting whatever comes to her mind.

Wow, I got really excited and I ended up talking waaay too much, but well... I love this family so much, I couldn’t help myself.

If you have any questions about the TSG sequel or about the characters in general, please feel free to send them to me!

Posting picrews of the Forman family next!

#the sweetest gifts #picrews #jackie burkhart #steven hyde #layla hyde #dylan hyde #gracie hyde

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playwright-fate · 3 years

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Nights at the clinic (act I)

Anders/f!Hawke (Valia Hawke)

2182 words

Summary: Act 1. Anders is having a difficult day at the clinic. Hawke shows up. And strangely, everything gets better.

“Anders. Something terrible just happened.”

He whipped around, recognising the voice instantly.

Hawke.

His gaze examined her quickly, but she looked completely fine. No blood, no tears, no desperate expression on her face.

She pointed her thumb back at the clinic door she had just entered through. “I walked into the milk bowl in front of your clinic. Broke it. Milk everywhere. It’s a catastrophe.” To illustrate this, she lifted her right foot towards him. There were indeed some white drops on her boot. “I’m terribly sorry. Mind if I stay here for a while? There’s no way I’m getting back out now,” she added, making a few steps forward.

READ IT ON AO3

Administrating a clinic for refugees in Darktown and being its main and often only healer, was never easy.

But some days were definitely more difficult than others.

Like today.

“Open wide,” Anders said as he tried once more to make Conor drink his anaesthetic so he could put his dislocated shoulder back in place and treat his broken arm. The injuries were apparently the result of a nasty fall which had happened in circumstances still very obscure to Anders as the eventful story had been interrupted three times already without anyone deigning to pick up exactly where it was left off and its main tellers, Conor and his eldest brother, Angus, kept disagreeing on the details. Anders was still waiting for the final word on whether Conor had slipped from this height or that height (which diverged from a few centimeters only) or if the neighbour’s son had been wearing a red or a green tunic.

“Conor, open your mouth, please.”

“Nooooo.” The boy–too busy fighting with his brother Angus over a wooden figurine–shook his head vehemently, avoiding the spoon Anders had been holding in front of him for the past five minutes.

Angus usually took his role of eldest brother seriously. With all the chaotic authority of an eleven-year-old boy, he had brought Conor and their younger brother Laurie down to the clinic an hour ago already but had since served more as a distraction and an added challenge for Anders now that he was trying to treat them than as any kind of authority figure which could have helped him manage them.

Or more particularly manage Conor.

The boy kept wincing as he flailed his broken arm around, but that did not seem to stop him from fidgeting constantly and trying to grab things. If not the toy figurine, then grabbing Anders’s staff or swishing around his vials. One bottle already lied broken at his feet.

“Do you want to feel better?” The boy nodded eagerly, but his eyes were fixed on the wooden toy his brother had secured for himself again. “Great, then open wide.”

“No.”

“Maker’s–” Anders stopped himself before saying something he would regret in front of children. He looked at the ceiling.

He knew the boys well. They were one of the poorest family in Darktown. Their father had died a few months ago, leaving their mother and eldest sister to work day and night to feed them.

So Anders really wanted to help them.

But Anders had also been woken up at five that morning, not even an hour after he had gone to bed, by a panicked man and his very pregnant wife about to give birth. The delivery had been difficult. And then the rest of the day had been a blur of incessant comings and goings of patients, each one sicker than the last. He had not even sat down once since he had gotten up that morning. So right now, saying he was starting to lose patience was an understatement.

He put down the spoon and turned to Laurie, the youngest, quietly shivering on the clinic’s bed, looking all sick and ready to nod off. Only his eyes followed from time to time and with some envy the trials and tribulations of the wooden toy. His state looked worrying enough to calm Anders’ nerves a little.

“So, what’s happening to you?” Anders asked gently, touching his burning forehead.

“It’s Tom that gave it to him, I saw–” Conor exclaimed.

“Nah, he just ate something rotten,” Angus cut in.

“Who’s Tom? Is he ill too? And what did Laurie eat?” Anders asked, trying to listen to everybody at the same time.

Angus shrugged. “Dunno. Something.”

“No, it’s Tom that gave it to him! I saw him! He wiped his nose on Laurie’s shirt yesterday! I saw it!”

“Who’s Tom?” And could someone stop him from wiping his nose on people’s clothes, Anders thought distractedly.

But the boys weren’t listening to him.

Angus shoved his brother. “Stop lying! You didn’t see shit. We did not even see Tom yesterday!”

“I’m not lying! You’re lying!” Conor said as he tried to push back and pry the wooden figuring away from his brother’s hands again.

Taking his hundredth big breath of the day, Anders thought he might just set fire to the wooden toy and be done with it when he heard some noise outside the clinic.

If the templars entered the clinic right now to arrest him, Anders thought, he would not even be surprised. That was certainly the kind of day when those things might as well happen.

Wait, was that a hissing sound?

He grabbed his staff as he heard someone step into the clinic.

“Anders. Something terrible just happened.”

He whipped around, recognising the voice instantly.

Hawke.

His gaze examined her quickly, but she looked completely fine. No blood, no tears, no desperate expression on her face.

The boys stopped quarrelling to look at her. Anders scratched his forehead. “That’s the terrible news?”

With her curly dark brown hair tumbling down to her waist, her dark olive skin and those sparkling dark brown eyes, she truly offered a striking sight.

She’s pretty, he thought. And that wasn’t the first time this had crossed his mind. And he was getting a bit worried about it.

“Well, try to tell that to the cats outside. I just got hissed on Anders and I don’t know much about cats, but that looked serious enough.” She lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper, “there’s a whole gang out there, Anders.”

Anders stared at her, then shook his head, amused. “Ok, ok. I’ll put some milk back again in a minute. And I will try to plead your case if they’re willing to listen,” he added playfully.

“Thank you.”

Their eyes lingered on each other.

He cleared his throat, trying to focus back on his patients and get their attentions again, but they were visibly fascinated by Hawke who winked and waved at them as she approached.

“Hey boys.”

They waved back at her.

“So,” she said, sitting in the chair next to where Anders was standing, himself back to facing the three boys who sat next to each other on the same bed, “come here often?” She crossed her ankles up on an empty bed and wiggled her brows at him.

Maker, he almost blushed now.

“Hawke, please, I need to focus.” He tried to sound stern, but the corner of his lips twitched.

She hummed and her eyes sparkled as she looked around the clinic. “Can I help? I could cut something! Skin, tendons, bones, I’m your girl,” she said with a bright smile as Anders tried to look at Connor’s arm again.

The boy gasped at Hawke’s words and threw a pleading stare at Anders. “You’re not gonna cut my arm, right?”

“Nobody’s going to cut anything,” Anders reassured him, “but you have to let me look at your arm now.”

“Or I’ll have to cut it,” Hawke added, not even trying to sound menacing as her smile widened.

Connor held his arm tighter against him.

“Hawke, no–“ Anders started but stopped as he caught her grinning at the boys. Angus giggled.

Maker, he really was tired.

He tried to relax as he saw Laurie break into a small smile. Conor, though, took the spoon out of Anders’ hands and gulped down his anaesthetic.

Anders put his hands on his hips and stared at them. “Well.”

“So, you sure you don’t need my help? These can truly cut through anything you know.” She unsheathed two of her knives out of their scabbards.

They were dirty and still stained with dried blood from a previous fight.

Anders stared at the knives.

She stared at the knives.

Then they stared at each other.

“No, thank you,” and “I can clean them if you want,” they said at the same time.

Hawke shrugged. “As you wish, but that’s your loss, really. My cuts are very precise.”

Anders chuckled. “Oh, I know.” He had seen her kill someone with just one throw of her knives the last time they had fought together.

She grinned and again their eyes lingered on each other. Anders forgot what he was doing for a second, stupidly standing in front of her.

Maker, Anders, get a grip.

He turned back to his patients, while she distractedly twirled her knives in her hands, chatting with them as she did so. The boys were hypnotised. Perhaps letting her do this in front of impressionable young boys wasn’t the right thing to do. But they were Fereldan refugees from the Blight living in the poorest area of Kirkwall after all, they had probably seen far worse than that.

And while she did so examining and treating them became much, much easier.

“Can you throw one?” Angus said suddenly, excitedly pointing at one of her knives.

“Yeah, sure!” she exclaimed and without pause started to take aim.

“No!” Anders dropped Conor’s arm and jumped to stop her before she could do it, just as she was aiming vaguely at the back of the clinic where one of his assistant was probably preparing some potion right now.

He grabbed her hand and her skin was soft and warm against his palm. He swallowed while she looked at him, surprised. “No, Hawke, you can’t,” he managed to say before letting go of her hand.

“Ok.” She shrugged at the boys and then resumed her conversation as if nothing had happened. “So you guys are all brothers, right?”

They nodded.

“I used to have a brother too.”

There was a small silence as she seemed lost in thought for a moment. Anders glanced at her, surprised at the sudden wistfulness of her tone.

“What happened to him?” asked Laurie.

Anders’ gaze was still on her. He was curious too. She had never told him about a brother.

She sighed before she composed herself and turned to smile at them. “Let’s just say we didn’t make it to the clinic in time.” She stopped twirling her knives for a second. “Well, in my defence there was no clinic around, really.” Shadows flickered over her face and Anders found that he had unconsciously taken a step towards her. “You guys are pretty lucky Anders is around. So better be nice with him then, right?”

Hawke winked at him, and this time Anders blushed for real.

The boys looked down at their feet, momentarily embarrassed and timidly nodding.

“So, anyway, how are you boys going back home? Want me to escort you?”

Conor, who had warmed up to her quite easily after his initial fright, almost bounded out of his seat. “Yes!”

But his eldest kept him in place. “Our sister is coming to pick us up. Mom said we shouldn’t follow strangers.”

“And she’s right,” said Anders.

“Oh cool! My sister’s coming to pick me up too.” They all looked at Hawke. “What? ‘Ts true. Hey look! She’s here! Oy, Beth!” And indeed, her sister had just walked into the clinic. “Look, that’s my sister, Bethany! And oh, there’s my boy!” Byron, her huge mabari, bounded in her direction as soon as he saw her. Hawke dropped to her knees to meet him. “Who’s a good boy? Yes, that’s you! The good boy!” She scratched his offered belly. “Yes, you’re the best boy!”

Byron barked in approval, twisting happily on the floor.

If the brothers were fascinated by Hawke before, they were now completely enthralled.

Anders tried to keep them in place, but he had lost them. In an instant, they leaped from their seat and crouched on the floor next to Hawke and her dog, asking questions about him and scratching every last corner of his fur. Even Laurie was beaming, seeming much better than when he had walked in, and Anders wasn’t sure it was all due to his own healing abilities.

“Why is there milk spilled all over the clinic’s entry?” Bethany asked, looking at Anders, “I had to fend off a gang of cats to come in and I almost cut my foot on some broken glass pieces.”

Hawke opened her arm in her direction, pointing at her and looking at Anders. “See what I’m taking about!”

–

The boys were still buzzing with excitement minutes after Hawke, her sister and their mabari had left.

“Whoa Anders, is she your girlfriend?”

“She’s so cool.”

“Can we come and see her again?”

Anders let out a long sigh and shook his head fondly.

Two new patients entered the clinic.

And he thought that he too was already missing her presence.

#anders x hawke #anders x femhawke #anders x f!hawke #handers #fhanders #dragon age #anders #my writing

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heartbreakgrill · 4 years

Text

Circles; Harry Styles

a/n: welcome to a new mini-series! Probably wont be more than 3 parts, but we’ll see! I watched This is Us and got major inspiration. Enjoy!

description: in which your visit the bakery you frequented as a child and run into an old face to stir up forgotten flirtations.

It was a bitterly cold day in Holmes Chapel, the wind whipping wildly across the fields and through the small town streets. You were dressed for the weather, peacoat collar flicked upwards to protect your neck from the chill. Sure, you probably looked like a psychopath with your eyes and part of your forehead the only bits of skin visible to any passerby. But, you didn’t care.

You were used to the cold weather, having just flown home from London, where it was already pouring buckets of freezing rain. At least here the air was dry. However normalized cold weather was, however, your body was obviously still affected thanks to being a warm-blooded mammal with thin layers of skin, easily frost bitten and frozen.

You licked your lips, having gone chapped from the chill, as you turned a street corner. Up ahead was your favorite bakery, one you frequented a lot before you moved to London for university. It had been two years since youd been home, having left as soon as you graduated secondary school. Of course, a certain someone had worked there whenever it began to be your favorite place, but after he left, it was simply because of the sweet elderly women and the delicious treats.

Now, you were back in town for two weeks, on winter break, before heading over to New York to visit a friend from university. You had been aching for a chocolate chip muffin from your favorite bakers for nearly two years now. When you walked in, the smell of the baked goods made your knees weak. A grin indented your face as you began to take off your scarf, earmuffs, hat, and mittens.

Sharon, the loveliest of them all, spotted you from her spot behind the counter, where she was counting cash. “Oh, my Lord! [Y/N]?!”

You stuffed your things into either pocket of your coat, feeling the warmth of the store when the door shut softly. “Hiya!” You waved as you stepped towards the glass displays.

“Laurie! Sue! [Y/N]’s here!” She rounded the counter, arms open for you. She was much shorter than you, so you bent at the waist slightly to hug her shoulders. It was the same routine with Laurie and Sue. They gushed over you, your hair, you smile, your height!

“You look so grown! So old! My heart!” Sue twirled a lock of your hair around her fingers, eyeing the color. “Did you dye it?”

“No, Sue, dont worry,” you sat at your table, in the back by the window. “It’s just damp because I got a shower this morning.”

“Oh,” Sue nodded firmly.

They took seats around you, ready to question you all about your life for the past two years. Laurie began with, “How’s uni?”

You smiled, reminiscing the good times youd made in London, “So wonderful. I absolutely love the city. Its busy and it rains a lot, but I love it.”

“Have you made any friends?” Sharon held lightly to your hand, her wrinkled skin soft and warm against your frozen fingers. “I know you expressed your concern with that whenever you left us.”

“Yeah, actually,” you squeezed, “I’m here for two weeks then heading over to New York to visit her. She was my roommate my first year, and now were renting an apartment together.”

“Oh, lovely,” Sue commented.

This continued for a few minutes, the questions and answers rolling back and forth between the four of you like waves. That was until a loud beep and holler came from the kitchen area. Sue stood quickly, muttering someone’s name and shuffling back to the kitchen.

“You hire somebody else?” It was your turn to ask, giggling lightly at her silly run.

Laurie shook her head, “No, love, it’s Harry.”

You blushed deeply, the name like a trigger to set off leftover butterflies from pubsecent you. “What?”

Sharon flinched, throwing her hands up, “Oh! Of course! We forgot to tell you!”

Laurie sighed, “Oh, yes! Harry’s here, love! He has a break from tour and he decided to visit us! Imagine, us being prioritized by a superstar!”

Sharon set a hand over her heart, smiling so sweetly, you wondered if the baked goods were seasoned with sugar or her love. “Whatta sweetheart.”

Your hands became clammy, and you removed them from the table to run them down your jeans. Laurie stood, noticing you running your hands through your hair and over your face. “Pretty,” she winked before moving to the counter, “How’s a vanilla hot cocoa and muffin sound, love?”

“G-good,” you choked, eyes flickering between her, Sharon, and the door that led to the kitchen.

Sue’s voice came into the room, louder as she came into view. “I’m sure you two would like to get acquainted again. Consider it a ten minute break like how you used to! When you’d insist I let you go when she came in. Aw!”

She grinned over at you, your eyes moving from hers to- Harry. Taller, handsome, older, curlier hair that was more controlled than it used to be. His face noticeably flushed, pupils dilated from the light- you- and his lips quirked open. You grinned, facial features experiencing the same flirts.

You stood from your chair, feeling the girl’s eyes on you although they tried to make themselves look busy. He took a few steps towards you, fingers raking through his dark brown curls.

“Wow,” he breathed, eyes widening once he realized he voiced his thoughts. “I mean, uh, hi?”

“Hey,” you chomped onto your bottom lip, withholding giggles at his maneurisms. Your hands stretched out in front of you, unsure of whether you should hug him or shake hands. You waved, “How are you?”

“I’m...okay,” he hesitated, and as your eyes let themselves flicker over his face, you noticed the bags under his eyes. “You?”

“Yeah, okay, um,” you stepped to the side and gestured to your table, “wanna sit? Catch up?”

“Sure, yeah, apparently I have a break, so,” Harry tugged his apron over his neck and balled it up. He sat down across from you as Laurie placed your muffin and drink down in front of you.

You shakily grabbed the fork, nervous under his watch, “So, how’s the superstar life?”

He chuckled, “Oh! Can’t I just be Harry for a day.”

You knew his joke held underlying meaning, so you shrugged and chided, “I never said I was a fan. Just curious as to how it’s going.”

“So, you’re not a fan?” Harry propped an elbow on the table and cradled his chin in it.

You swallowed bits of the muffin, “I dont listen often. I know your singles, of course, and that one- uh, what’s it called, ‘Same Mistakes.” Gotta admit I cried over a boy to that song once.”

“Ah, so there’s boys in your life?” Harry quirked a brow.

You blushed lightly, taking a chance as you held eye contact, “Not presently, no. But, over the past few years, yes, Ive seen a few lads.”

“Are London boys better than what we’ve got to offer?” He continued.

“Nah, I prefer homegrown boys,” you giggled before asking, “Are there any girls chasing after your heart?”

“Oh, millions,” he urged a laugh from you. “But, like you said, I’m single as of right now.”

You sipped some of your cocoa, face scrunching when your tongue faced the immense heat, “Ah. Uh, sorry-“

Harry giggled at the expression on your face, causing you to grin in return. He bit his lip and leaned back in his chair, “How long are you in town for?”

“Two weeks, you?”

“The same.”

“Nice,” you nodded. “So, since we both have a lot of time on our hands, do you maybe wanna-?”

“Lunch tomorrow? We always such a blossoming friendship within these walls, but never really saw each other outside of ‘em. I never liked it,” Harry admitted.

You pursed your lips, thinking back to your high school years, “Well, you were pretty popular, Harry. The cute, curly-headed boy who could sing, had nice teeth, and baked? Gosh, you were like the boy who killed girls.”

He chortled at the reference, “Cute, huh? You were pretty popular. Straight-A’s, sickly sweet, a gorgeous smile even with your braces and awfully done eyeliner.”

“Harry Styles, are you backhandedly flirting with me?” You pressed a hand to your chest in mock shock, “Just because youre famous doesnt mean your suddenly able to walk all over me!”

“I’m just glad youre finally able to call out my flirting.” He glanced at the watch on his wrist and noticed his ten-minutes were up. Of course, he could have stayed, but where’s the drama in that? “Ill swing by at noon to get you. See ya.”

Your mouth fell open in genuine shock as he turned into the kitchen. “Finally able...? What?”

“Shut your mouth, you’ll catch flies,” Sharon slid into the seat across from you.

Laurie stood behind her, “Two years, sweetie, two years of relentless flirting and neither of you ever made a move.”

“If something doesnt happen within the next two weeks, I might just drop dead from exhaustion, love,” Sue admitted, swinging a dish towel over her shoulder.

“Well, I guess I better get home and find an outfit.”

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles blurb #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfiction #this is us #harry 1d #one direction #one direction imagines #harry styles fluff

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starscream197 · 4 years

Note

cute you write some fluff hurt/comfort for Laurie/Kate 👉👈 please :)

((Mun; I am so sorry this took way much longer then what it should’ve ;n; I’ve been dealing with family and friend issues, but I hope this suffices <3

Fluffy hurt/comfort | Laurie x Kate

Laurie groaned as she looked around the broken hallways of Lery's, her blue orbs spotting a familiar blonde who seemed to be more happy at her sudden situation in the freezing cold building. Laurie made her way towards her girlfriend, embracing her tightly with a big smile.

"At least we're in this together, right Katie?" Kate's smile turned wider at the small line from Laurie.

"Yup! Wanna go work on the generator in mid? It's better to get it out of the way." Laurie nodded her head as they began to walk to the middle, Laurie cuddling into the curled hair of Kate, making her giggle a bit. Dwight just awkwardly looked at them as they all worked on the generator, hearing the sound of the Oni's grunts in the distance. Kate suddenly shivered, making Laurie raise a brow.

"This place gives me the heebie jeebies."

"Heebie jeebies?" Laurie snickered.

"Yeah, it's creepy here!" Kate grumbled back. Laurie smiled and leaned over to gently kiss her lover.

"It'll be okay, Katie. I'll keep an eye on you."

"I can still handle myself!"

"I know, I know, you should know me at this point." Laurie rolled her eyes.

"I know, and I thank you." Kate cuddled against Laurie as the generator dinged complete, Dwight running off towards a locker to hide in as the heartbeat grew in their ears. Laurie's look suddenly turned firm as her and the other blonde rushed off upstairs, hiding behind a small bench. Kate cuddled against Laurie slightly in fear at the large, demonic man who growled below them.

Laurie carefully ran her fingers through Kate's hair as they finally began to walk downstairs, hearing him walk away swiftly to chase after Steve. They began to work on another generator together, but quickly noticed something was wrong. Steve was fine, Dwight was fine, where was the Oni?

It wasn't until Kate got grabbed off the generator did they realize the Oni had Tinkerer, throwing Laurie into a fit of rage as she watched Kate get carried off. She hid behind a wall and covered her ears as the screams of Kate suddenly echoed Lery's, the Oni's heavy footsteps beginning to pound away from their location. Laurie hurried over to take her lover off the hook, watching Kate whimper as blood poured from the large wound in her shoulder and blood orbs floated around them.

"It's okay Kate, I've got you…" Laurie whispered softly as she began to patch up Kate, quickly noticing the increased heartbeat. She sucked in a breath and looked around before taking a broken piece of glass off the floor from a broken window and handing it to Kate. "For protection, be safe." She whispered to her, making the curly haired girl nod.

The Oni arrived soon enough to see them finish healing, immediately going after Kate. Laurie flinched as she followed with them slowly, aiming for an opportunity to save her girlfriend. She knew it was only a matter of time until Kate was downed, and was looking for every opportunity to save her.

She watched as Kate vaulted a window and fell down as the Oni's sword was slashed across her back, making Kate howl and whimper in pain. Laurie flinched at the sounds, she never wanted to hear her beloved in pain.

"You've got this, Katie." She mumbled a bit as she watched the female get picked up. Kate swiftly brought the glass piece down onto the Oni's shoulder, running off towards Laurie quickly. The blonde quickly got in the way between the Oni and Kate as they ran off quickly, trying their best to thwart off the demonic man.

Laurie and Kate nearly fell over as they hear his roar echo the cold, broken down building, running off towards the office part of the building. Kate ran off and hid down in the basement, quickly noticing that Laurie wasn't beside her. She began to panic slightly as she shakily began to wrap herself up with whatever she had, which was just a torn piece of her shirt as she heard the high pitched screams of Laurie.

Two of the generators dinged off in the distance, giving Kate a moment to breathe a sigh of relief before she quickly got back onto the situation at hand, Laurie was in trouble. She dug around the chest for a few moments before pulling out a flashlight, a mischievous smile growing over her lips as she realized she was going to be the saviour Laurie needed and immediately ran off to follow her plan.

As she walked through the building, the coldness and tidbits of snow nipped at her showing skin, making her shiver. But as soon as she heard the faint heartbeat grow in her ears, she knew it was time. She gave a silent prayer that Steve and Dwight were doing their jobs and working on the generators as she stepped in over to the middle, watching as Laurie fell off the top floor. She still seemed calm, which only made Kate swoon more as she watched the bravery of her lover.

She quickly snapped out of her daydreams as Laurie was slashed to the ground, Kate flickering the flashlight for a moment before appearing from behind the corner. She shined it quickly into Kazan’s eyes, making him growl as Laurie was dropped. Laurie had a look of surprise as she ran over to embrace Kate quickly, holding her as they ran. Surprisingly, he switched his focus over to Dwight, ignoring the females as they both healed themselves up. Kate and Laurie embraced each other, a loving kiss landing Laurie’s lips from the panicked blonde.

As the fourth generator dinged off in the distance, Laurie and Kate put themselves to good use and began to work on the final generator, since Steve and Dwight had begun to run Kazan around. After a bit, the generator dinged complete and the couple ran off to an exit gate, sudden panic growing as Steve ran over with the Oni quick behind him. As the exits opened, they forced themselves out the gate, giving a sigh of relief as they were finally back at their camp, hearing the forgiving sound of the campfire crackling and the happy talk of their fellow survivors.

Kate was quick to rush Laurie into their tent, shoving the other female onto their cot. The texan surprisingly began to shake a bit as she shoved herself into the arms of her lover, her face nuzzled in the neck of Laurie. Laurie’s eyes widened at the sudden affection, making her sigh as she gently placed her hand on the back of Kate’s shirt, her warm hand rubbing across the soft cloth of her lover to try and soothe her.

They laid there in each other’s arms for a while, just in silence as Laurie softly rubbed Kate’s back and Kate just rested in the lovingness of Laurie’s arms. Laurie lifted up Kate’s head suddenly, beginning to gently pepper her face in soft kisses.

“Katie,”

“Yeah?”

“I love you.” Laurie placed another kiss on her lips, enjoying the feeling of her lips against Kate’s. Kate closed her eyes and very gladly kissed Laurie back, keeping her tight in the embrace. Kate pulled away after a moment, her cheeks dusted a soft pink as she smiled.

“I love you too.”

#dbd headcanons #dbd #dead by daylight #laurie strode #kate denson #dbd ships

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rigorwh0retis · 3 years

Text

I'll Take Care of You (NSFW)

Pairing: Michael Myers/Adam Francis

Tags: Genlte sex, Bottom Michael, Talking Michael and slight dirty talk.

Co-written with @knite-jin

"You're nothing but a nice hole for us to use. Look at you, enjoying us fucking your slutty ass. You stupid whore."

Evans words seared across his mind like a roaring fire as The Shape limped and stumbled. His fellow slashers were relentless when it came to fucking him, using him like their personal fuck toy that they tossed around to one another. Their cum leaked from Michael’s poor abused ass, uncomfortably sliding down his legs and staining his blue jumpsuit. Hot throbbing pain coursed through his body, screaming for him to rest but Michael's hunger wouldn't subside. He needed more cock. He needed to be fucked until his body couldn't physically take anymore of it. Michael continued in his carnal haze until he saw a bright beam of a flashlight flicker off into the distance. He knew that had to be one of the survivors.

Their camp resided in these thick maze-like woods filled with unnatural, twisted trees that they used as protection from any slashers that tried to enter their domain. He didn't care who they were, it didn't matter which one of who he's gutted several times over and over, Michael needed their cock. He stalked over to them, tunnel vision focusing on the bright beam as it grew bigger and brighter until it almost blinded him. He stood there, eyes trying to adjust as he gazed at the familiar figure of the older man.

Adam Francis. He stood wide eyed, gripping the flashlight tightly in his hand as he appeared ready to run to the campsite. Michael didn't want Adam to go. He needed him now. Lunging forward, he dropped to his knees in front of Adam, hands grabbing the tight belt around the man's waist. Adam, hesitant at first, finds the courage to slowly kneel down on one knee. He looks for that awfully dreaded knife that his skin has tasted multiple times, and when he doesn't find one, his hesitation slowly diminishes.

Adam reaches for the mask, and when he finds no fight coming from Michael he pulls it off to find tears and cumstains littering his face. Michael, being so cock drunk, starts to try undoing Adam's belt but is stopped.

"Follow me, let me clean you up first, Michael."

Adam leads the younger man to a little creek that the survivor's use to clean themselves up. It's decorated with strange glowing orange like flowers, almost illuminating a path for them around the shore. Adam has an arm behind Michael's back, guiding him to the pond. Michael immediately strips down, feverishly ripping his clothes off as Adam takes off many of his layers still leaving on his shirt and pants before he rolls up his sleeves. Michael slips into the shallow area, the cool water touching his burning skin. Adam's hands submerge in the water before wiping off the cum stains on Michael's face.

They both start to thoroughly wash off the cum that coated his skin. Eventually, Adam's hands start to travel as he begins to scrub him down even further. His hands naturally followed the curves of muscle on Michael's body. He swallowed a thick blob of saliva that got caught in his throat. The more his hands trailed over his hot skin, the more difficult the task became. His cock twitched in his pants as his hands glided over Michael's wet skin. Adam's hand trails down to Michael's ass. Fuck. . . Adam softly speaks, "Get on your knees, Michael. Let me do this for you." His fingers easily enter Michael's ass. Adam slowly pumps his fingers in and out of Michael's ass, his lips kissing Michael's bare shoulder as Michael grips onto his shirt. Michael pulled him into the water, getting Adam’s slacks wet. The killer is panting, teeth gritting as his ass still burns from pain caused earlier by the other killers. Adam keeps kissing his skin, his tongue gliding to Michael's clavicle while praising him. "You're doing so good for me Michael."

"That's it...relax yourself around my finger." "Good boy."

Michael looks down to see Adam's cock straining in his pants. The Shape reaches down to palm his erection through the soaked slacks. Adam gasps and let's Michael free his cock from its clothed prison. Precum is heavily leaking from his dick. Michael moves closer to Adam until their cocks touch and Michael runts against him, fingers gripping onto his shirt. Adam moans and moves his hand from Michael's ass to their cocks, wrapping his fingers around both and pumping them both at the same time

Adam is moaning and thrusting up against Michael too as he jerks them both off. He manages to sneak one of his hands back around to prod and tease Michael's hole. At this point Adam is in the water but he ignores the soaked clothes. Adam's lips brush against Michael's as he gasps and Michael grunts before roughly kissing Adam. Their teeth clank and Michael is shoving his tongue into the other man's mouth in an almost feral way. Adam kisses him back and starts to stroke them faster. He feels Michael's ass clench around his fingers as he cums all over Adam's hand and clothes. An almost growly moan escapes his mouth. Adam pulls away, still hard as he hasn't came yet, and peers down to see the cum all over him. "Did that feel good Mic-", he's cut off as Michael crashes into him. Adam tumbled backwards and smacked his back on the shore of the pond. He jarred his back and head from the full force of Michael ramming into him. The killer is on top of Adam, heavily panting as he positions himself on Adam's cock before sinking down on it. He starts to ride Adam, his body still burning but he wants more. Adam's hands find themselves gripping tightly at Michael's hips, helping the killer find his rhythm and keep the pace.

"That's it Michael...oh god yes, you're doing such a good job"

As Michael continues to ride Adam, he can't help but notice the softness and gentle nature of Adam. He's not hitting me, slapping me . . . he's not hurting me. At this point Michael begins to slow till he gradually stops. Adam massages his side, "What's wrong, Michael?" Adam attempts to sit up but Michael's weight is definitely an obstacle. He raises his hand to stretch them out, but notices how Michael minutely flinched. Oh, I see . . . Adam whispers to Michael to get off and to lay flat on his back.

Without a second to waste Michael obeys Adam's words. The soft grass tickled his hot skin, as he got as comfortable as he could. He watched with lidded eyes as Adam came over and leaned his body over his. Dark, tender eyes making contact with his own. He hasn’t seen this from anyone before. It was foreign to be treated with care, gently tended, and especially to have his own pleasure being a priority for once.

"Michael? Michael hey, hey Earth to Michael" Adam was stroking Michael's thighs.

The curly brunette looked back up at him with a slight flushed look spreading across his face. "I'll make you feel good, Michael." Adam slowly kissed down Michael's abdomen - leaving small bruises as he sucked gently at the skin. Adam looked back up at Michael who sat up on his elbows now. There was a slight questioning nature in the way Michael's brows knitted.

"Do you trust me?" Adam asked as his breath touched Michael's cock.

Michael stares intensely down at Adam, unsure if he truly trusts the man in front of him. His killer instincts are snarling inside of him, clawing at his brain to stop Adam and rip his throat out. Yet, the small humanity that clings onto Michael soaks in the soft touches and tender words that drip from Adam's mouth like sweet honey.

Michael nods, soft brown curls bouncing softly. His heart is pounding in his chest, the thrum of it loud in his ears. Michael's body shudders in pleasure when he feels Adam's warm tongue swipe against his tip. His fingers claw at the dirt and wilted grass beneath them as the other man starts to run his hot tongue around Michael's throbbing cock. The appendage running along the veins that pulse beneath it. Adam laps at the precum leaking from Michael's cock

Michael's entire being began to shake as Adam began to swirl and suck at his sensitive tip. His chest began to rise and fall - his breaths becoming stuck in his throat as the overwhelming sensation of his orgasm began to peak once more. That familiar tightness in his abdomen began to grow, but at the last second Michael reached forward and pushed Adam away before he came.

"Ah, shoot", Adam slightly groaned as he brought his hand up to his nose. It was bleeding.

Michael can't explain why he felt a sudden sense of guilt. It chewed at his skin when he watched the small droplets of blood drip from Adam's nose. He's going to punish me echoed through his head, but that blood-lust in his head also rang loud. Make him bleed more, make him hurt, make him-

Adam got up and walked on over to the body of water and splashed his face with the cool liquid. "Was it too much, Michael? You could have just told me to - oh, right . . . sorry." Adam had remembered from Laurie's stories about how Michael never uttered a single word. That he chooses not to; Adam respected his decision. He pinched his nose one last time before turning around towards the latter. Adam nearly jumped out of his skin when he came face to face with Michael.

Kill him kill him kill him-

Michael grabbed Adam's forearms and led him back to the wilted grass. He brought Adam to lay on top of his chest, taking in the slightest lingering smell of his blood. Adam leaned down to his ear and whispered, "May I fuck you, Michael. I want to show you how good I can make you feel." Adam bucked his hips, rubbing his cock against Michael's, causing a deep lustful moan to come from the both of them.

Michael tilted his head back into the grass, inviting Adam to do as he pleases to every inch of his body. Adam once again peppered his skin with small kisses, biting at his clavicle and the crevice of his neck. His legs began to spread wider, allowing Adam to comfortably align himself with his entrance.

"Shit . . ." Adam mumbled against Michael's ear. He hissed as he felt whatever cum was still deep within Michael's ass slowly dribble out, causing his cock to easily slide deep within him.

Although his hole has been used as the others slashers personal fuck-doll, his abused hole ached and burned as Adam entered him slowly. Adam moaned once his cock was fully sheathed deep inside of Michael. Grunting at the delicious hot tightness that hugged his cock. His hands gently, almost romantically, trailed down the curves and dip of Michael's navel and scarred hips. Michael looked absolutely handsome, even if he was a bloodthirsty killer that brutally killed Adam several times during trials. In this moment, he saw that sliver of humanity still in Michael as it lay defenseless before him. Adam moves ever so slightly, causing the man under him to whine.

"Are you ready for me to move, Michael?" Adam asked, one of his hands trailing up to cup the soft, supple flesh of Michael's chest.

Michael's eyes looked away, peering off into the far distance where a tiny spec of light glimmered. That must be where the other survivors -

"Hey", Adam said softly as he brushed away a strand of curly hair, "I promise no one will come out this far. Trust me." That was the second time Adam had told him to trust him.

I trust you. . . Michael spoke it out-loud with the deep sigh that escaped his chest. He didn't know where to place his hands. He was used to them being bound and tied till his hands nearly turned purple. An electrical sensation of heat ripped through his core as Adam thrust himself deep within him. His arms in an instant found their home wrapping around Adam's back - pushing the older man's bare chest against his own.

With Adam unable to sit up due to the tight embrace Michael had him in, he focused all his movement and strength in his lower half. Fucking Michael with steady, deep thrusts. Their foreheads were touching one another in this tight embrace, sharing the same breath as they synced their breathing as one.

Michael wanted more, he needed more. His strong embrace loosened around Adam's back. His scarred hands found themselves cupping Adam's ass. He bucked his hips forward as he forced Adam to penetrate him harder and faster. His fingers dug into the meaty flesh of Adam's ass, knuckles turning white as he gripped onto the older man as if he might disappear.

He didn't want Adam to leave. He wanted, no, needed the older man more than he needed anything ever. Michael felt as if all his troubles melted away. As though the scars of the past that sunk its canines deep into his soul and the bloodlust of the entity, had temporarily vanished as Adam thrusted into him. His dark eyes pulling Michael into a loving ecstasy as Adam's cock stretched him, hitting his prostate as ways of pleasure shot through his body that made Michael see stars.

"God, you feel amazing Michael," Adam panted. His lips brushing against The Shape's while his hips snapped into him as a hand reached down to stroke Michael's cock. Everything burns, like a wildfire burning through his veins as their bodies rub and brush against each other. The sensation of their skin gliding against each other, the feeling of Adam's fingers brushing against his skin, Adam chanting his name like a prayer as he continues to fuck Michael. He drowned himself in that euphoria.

A low sob escaped Michael's lips as Adam's hand stroked his cock even faster. At this point he didn't care if he made noise, he didn't care that Adam could hear him sob and moan like a "wanton whore". As the Trapper had called him multiple times while he fucked him out of spite. But Adam did none of that. His gentle voice had ebbed those rancid memories and visions as he praised him - almost lovingly calling him by his name.

Sweat dripped off the tip of Adam's nose, sliding down into the equally sweaty flushed neck of Michael's. His hand slowly cramped as he continuously stroked and pumped at the same speed as his thrusts. The facial expression sitting on Michael's face had created a pang of sorrow deep within his heart. I won't treat you like they treated you. I promise, Michael.

"Does that feel good, Michael? Do you want more?", and he meant it. He slowed this thrusts as he slightly sat up back on his knees to look at him better.

" . . .y-yes. . ." a low raspy voice filled the silent pocket of sound between their panting. Michael froze. He looked away as though Adam was the sun ready to burn his eyes. He shielded his face with his arms. No no no no - what is he doing to me? Kill him, kill him now!

Adam gave a very soft chuckle, "Of course, Michael." Adam's heart raced as he heard the ruthless killer's voice fill the air between them. He knew how out of character that must have been for him, so he left it as is. Paying it no attention for the sake of Michael and his comfort. Adam grasped Michael's waist with his left hand, steadying himself before he nearly pulled his cock out. In one fluid motion he snapped his hips forward - directly hitting Michael's prostate. The cry of pleasure and pain rang sweetly in the air as Michael grasped at the grass. Adam fucked him with intent - but of one to bring him pleasure. With every thrust, Michael's core throbbed - his entire soul drunken with the euphoric sensation of Adam's cock.

Adam peppered kisses across Michael's scarred back, mementos by the other slashers littered his skin like an animal markings. Bruises, bites, scratch marks and fresh cuts from knives scattered across his back and Adam felt a pang of sadness and pity wash over him. Even if Michael was, as some might crudely call him, a monster he was still like the rest of them. A pawn forced to play a sick game to an abomination that forced them into a never ending hell.

It made him angry, hell these marks downright pissed. But right now all the older man wanted to do was worship Michael like the beautiful creature he was. Teeth gently nibbled on the sensitive skin of Michael's ears as he continued to thrust faster into the younger man as he almost sang praise to him.

"You're so lovely Michael," Adam cooed, his hand moved down to fondle The Shapes balls. He felt the younger man's body start to tense and shake as he came closer to his climax. Adam was not far behind. "Will you be a good boy and cum for me?"

Good boy . . .

He doesn't know why that name had sent chills down his spine - that turned pleasurable the more he chanted those words in his mind like a prayer. Fuck, he wanted to hear those words again - he wanted Adam to call him a good boy . . . to praise him and shower him with his suffocating gentleness. Michael closed his eyes, picturing Adam cumming on him as he sweetly praised him for doing good. Picturing Adam suck and stroke his cock until he came undone; being rewarded and called a good boy.

The Shape steadied himself as he reached down to unite with Adam's hand that fondled his balls. He gritted his teeth as he fought his weakening body from collapsing to the ground.

"God, you feel so good around my cock, Michael". Adam's thrusts gradually became sloppy as his climax began to swell. "Fuck!" Adam bit down on Michael's shoulder causing The Shape to moan out and pump his cock harder in response. "God, please cum with me - be a good boy and cum with me Michael", Adam began to ramble. "Can you be a good boy for me Michael?"

A breathless yes escaped Michael's mouth.

"Yeah?"

". . .yes, please" Michael closed his eyes as he lost himself in Adam.

Adam smirked against his earlobe, "Then cum for me, cum for me now like the good boy you are." Michael cried out as his orgasm spilled into his hands, coating his fingers and slowly dribbling down into the grass below. Hearing Michael cry out easily sent Adam over. With a loud "Fuck", Adam pulled his cock out from The Shape's ass and spilled his cum across Michael's lower back.

". . .Michael . . . good boy. . ." Michael crashed onto the wilted grass below. His eyes had grown heavy, and before he knew it he had lost himself to a heavy, and well needed slumber.

Adam chuckles softly at Michael's glowing, sleeping body. For a killer, even Michael has his soft moments. Adam moves his body close to Myers, still feeling the heat radiate off his body before reaching over to softly play with the soft brown curls of Michael's hair. His knuckles gently brush against his strong jawline.

Adam looks off into the distance to the campsite, the flickering light of the fire sways between the trees. He knows it's not before long another trial will start as their never-ending loop of violence starts again. Yet, as he glances down to Michael's peaceful face, all those thoughts seem to disappear as he stares at the younger man. He bends down to peck a kiss onto the scar that runs across his left eye before pulling him close to Adam's chest. For now, the only thing the older man wanted was to drift off into slumber with Michael in his arms.

#my writing #adam francis #Michael Myers #dead by daylight #RISQUE

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fangirl-tc27 · 4 years

Text

T.C Always Chapter 1

His curls sit messily on top of his head, his green eyes looking at the papers in front of him as he read the words quietly out loud. He and I two separate people, but yet still very alike. He let out a small smile as I was making omelettes for us for breakfast. I poured him a cup of coffee and gave him that and the bagel before the omelette was done. I let out a small smile when he kissed my forehead as I placed the food in front of him.

“So, how is the script?” I asked as I placed the omelette in front of him. He looked up at me and gave me a look.

“It is good. I mean Little Women is always good. I just--I will be gone in Paris for some time. You know nothing will happen but I just want to tell you. This looks good, thank you ma cherie,” he said, kissing me gently. I smiled as I sat next to him eating my food.

“I am glad you are enjoying it. Paris sounds fun. You know, I know nothing will happen. I trust you. So who would you be playing?” I asked as he bit into his food.

“Laurie. I don’t know if I will take it though,”

“You should. I think it would be good for you. For us,” I said as he nodded. I grabbed his hand and we finished eating.

“So, how is your writing coming?” he asked as I shrugged. It hasn’t been going the best.

“Oh you know, it is going. I haven’t been able to sit and concentrate for a little bit. But yeah, it is going okay I guess,” I sheepishly said. I let out a small sigh. For doing this for a living, it isn’t so bad but doing it freelance and just to get out there sucks.

“Well, maybe I can help you a little. You know like a bit of inspiration,” he smiled. I nodded.

“Sure, I guess. Good luck,” I sighed as I got up, cleared the table and I bit my lip. He smirked and kissed my cheek, joining me by the sink.

“It will work. Now, what are your plans today?” he asked as I picked at my nails.

“Writing and filming. You know, gotta get out my weekly video. What about you?” I asked as he shrugged.

“Hmmmm I am not sure. Maybe some video games, maybe some reading. I will help you with whatever you want,” he said wrapping his arm around me.

“I will let you know. I gotta go do my article for the paper. Je t’aime,” I said kissing his cheek and walking to our office. I sat down and began to write.

A Few Hours Later

I hit send on the story and did a small stretch. I looked around to see Timothee now standing in the doorway. I let out a small smile as he walked over. He began to rub my shoulders as I groaned from stress. I looked to my notes for the next article, and rubbed my temples.

“Take a break, ma cherie. You have been working on your laptop for a few hours. Just come take a break. I don’t know what you want to do but you need a break. This will be here later,” Timothee said as I nodded and he kissed the top of my head. I stood up, he took my hand and we headed out to the living room. In our six months of dating, he has been the best and I feel like I am not worth it or that he is too good for me.

“Could you read to me?” I asked as he nodded and he grabbed a random book from the shelf. We sat on the couch, I placed my head in his lap and he began to read the book. It was partially in french, and after he read the french bits, he would translate it to English, even though he didn’t have too. My family is French, he knows this.

“You don’t need to translate it,” I said simply.

“I know, but I want too,” he said as I nodded and closed my eyes. His voice being the only thing I heard. The way the french left his lips, his voice got a little more soft as he did so. One of his hands was brushing through my curly hair, scrubbing my scalp gently as he read.

“You know that I love you right,” he said simply, as he continued to read. I nodded and he kissed my forehead.

“And I love you. I always will baby boy,” I said as he smiled. I let out a small sigh as I closed my eyes, again. His voice, soothing as I felt myself falling asleep.

#timothee chalamet #timothee chalamet fic

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nastybuckybarnes · 5 years

Text

Distrust - Seven

Pairing: Steve Rogers X Reader

Summary: After Bucky gets ‘taken’ on a mission gone wrong, Steve blames you for it, casting you out. HYDRA takes advantage of your vulnerable state and is quick to capture you, the team knowing nothing of anything that’s happened.

Warnings: Fluff (Rare fluffy chapter), Mentions of Eating Disorders

Word Count: 2K (She’s short)

A/n: I’m exhausted, Emotionally dead, and a little tipsy. Enjoy.

UNEDITED Series Masterlist

~*~

Your arms heal in a few weeks, and in those few weeks you become very comfortable in your new home with your new friends.

"So, what's on the menu today?" Amara asks while plopping next to you in the cafeteria. "I convinced Laurie to get Tacos for me with June. Want one?" You offer her a soft taco, watching as she eyes it skeptically.

"What's in it?" She asks, eyes flashing up to your face. "Meat, cheese, lettuce, sauce... other stuff. I don't remember." She scrunches up her nose then looks over her shoulder at Angie, the nurse who watches her like a hawk.

"I'm sure if you take a small bite she'll be a bit more relaxed around you," you whisper, taking another bite of the taco. She sighs deeply and takes the soft taco, slowly and hesitantly bringing it up to her lips.

She takes a tiny mouse-like bite, chews it almost thirty times, then swallows.

"I hate you so much," she groans, taking another bite of it. "I know. But I'll be here when... you know... you want to get rid of it." She nods, taking a third bite then setting the taco down.

"I don't think I'll be too upset over three bites. How've the nightmares been?" You look down and swallow the food in your mouth. "Bearable. I've been taking some stuff lately."

The first time you asked for sleeping pills was the best day of your new life. It was the first night in over two years that you slept for longer than five hours. Since then you've been on and off with them, using them on rougher days and sticking through the nightmares on better days.

"That's good. Pretty soon you'll be outta here." You laugh softly, shaking your head at her. "Let's keep in mind that I haven't even talked about my issues with anyone yet. Don't go and discharge me so quickly." She giggles and raises her hands up in surrender, her eyes flashing down to the taco.

"You think you don't want it but we both know you do," you whisper sadly, wishing she was better already. "I know. But it's... so hard. The entire taco is like, 350 calories. And it's tiny." You nod, looking at the taco in question. "And if you have a 500 calorie limit, hypothetically of course, then this is fine to eat. What if I eat some of it first, and you just have the rest?" She purses her lips then nods, accepting the terms.

You take two large bites of the soft taco then give her the rest, a small smile on your face as she eats it slowly.

~*~

"Checks. Oh! (Y/n) why are you still up? Would you like anything?" June asks, a worried frown on her face when she pops her head in the doorway.

"I... I need..." She walks into the room and sits beside you on the daybed. "Someone to talk to?" You shrug then nod.

"I... suggest calling one of your emergency contacts. I know you've given them little updates every week, but I think you should try talking to one of them in person." A weight settles on your chest as you think of calling one of them.

"But you certainly don't have to. Now, I'll be back around shortly. I hope you get some peaceful sleep tonight." With that, she stands up and walks out of your room, leaving the door open like always.

You pace around for a few minutes, fingers lost in your hair as you hyperventilate. Eventually, you give in and grab your phone, fingers trembling as you press on the familiar icon.

The phone rings a few times before connecting, a voice you haven't heard in weeks answering.

Bucky's reading a book in his room when his phone rings.

He's surprised, not having anyone who would call him at this time.

Well, he might have one person.

"Hello?"

There's a hesitation on the other line before the person speaks.

"Bucky? It's (Y/n)." Relief floods him. Although he's been checking in with the doctors and nurses regularly, hearing your voice makes him feel ten times better.

"(Y/n), hi. Are you okay?"

Another pause before you reply, "yeah... um, no. I really don’t know. Can... can you come get me? I don't want to be trapped inside tonight. You can bring me back in the morning or whenever you get tired of me. And if you don't want to then-then that's fine too. I shouldn't have called. Sorry to wake you. Bye-" "No don't hang up! I'll be there in five minutes and then we can drive around all night. I'll call the nurses and tell them. I'll be right over, okay (Y/n)?" He hears you take a few breaths in.

"Okay. Thank you, Bucky." He smiles while pulling on a pair of pants, the phone tucked between his shoulder and ear. "Anytime, Doll."

You hang up the phone and pull a hoody on, leaving your sweats and slippers on as you wait for Bucky to come pick you up.

True to his word, he takes five minutes. When he walks into your room with two nurses trailing him, you feel a strange type of relief.

"Have her back no later than eight," June says, smiling at you proudly. "I will, ma'am." His rough voice makes you shiver in a way that you haven't in years.

"You ready to go, Doll?" You nod and stand up, following him out of your room and out of the clinic.

It's quiet for a few moments, almost awkwardly so, but when you leave the clinic and are outside under the stars, you forget about that.

"Thank you for coming to get me," you whisper after a moment, not looking at him as he opens the car door for you. "Anytime, Doll." You get into the car and put your seatbelt on, staring out the window as he gets in beside you.

The start of the drive is silent, you thinking about what to say while he notices the changes in your appearance.

Your eyes were the first things he noticed. They're more vibrant and alive than when he saw you last. The dark circles underneath them are less prominent and your skin has regained some of its natural glow. You've gained some healthy weight back and look more like yourself, and your voice is more gentle and less afraid.

"I'm so sorry. About... that day." Your voice pulls him from his thoughts and he glances over at you. "You scared me really bad for a little while there. But you pulled through. Just like I knew you would."

You smile slightly then look over at him.

"How's everyone doing?" He sighs heavily then shrugs. "Good. Everyone's good. We all miss you like crazy but... you're doing much better now. Which is all any of us really care about anyway." You look away.

"Where do you wanna go now?" You shrug, "anywhere. I just... need a break from the clinic for tonight. I called you because... I need someone safe. Someone I can trust." He feels his heart swell at the fact that you chose him.

"Well, I think I know just the place. But you've gotta promise you won't tell anyone about it, okay?" You nod, sticking your pinky out towards him. "Pinky swear." He smiles and hooks his pinky around yours.

The secret place is an old baseball field in the middle of nowhere. It has an amazing view of the sky and is actually quite calming.

"Bucky... Can I ask you something?" You ask while walking around the grass, eyes on the stars.

"Anything."

"Do you think I should forgive Steve? Do you think that... integrating him into my life again is something I should work on?"

He's quiet for a few minutes, thinking about this thoroughly, then huffs out a big breath of air. "Honestly, seeing the progress you've made away from him, away from us... no. I think you should focus on you and nothing else. Steve's decisions landed you in this.... 'mess' and he has to live with what he's done. If that means he’s lost you for the rest of his life, then so be it." You nod and sit down on the grass, slowly laying back until you're looking straight up at the starry sky.

"At the clinic... I have a friend," you whisper, glancing over to where Bucky stands. He smiles at you and lies down beside you, looking up at the stars.

"What's her name?" He asks, looking over at you when you look back up to the stars.

"Her name is Amara. She's turning nineteen soon. She's got these beautiful brown eyes and this curly hair. But she's so so skinny Buck. She has an eating disorder, but she's getting better."

He nods and looks up at the stars again. "What's she like?" You smile as you think of your friend.

"She's... tiny, for starters. Around five foot four. No more than eighty pounds at most. But Bucky she's got a heart of pure gold. She's sweet and kind and compassionate. And she didn't know me before everything happened. I'm not 'an Ex-Avenger' or 'a shell of who I was' to her. To her, I'm just... me. And I really like that." Bucky finds himself staring at you again, saddened slightly but happy that you have this friend.

"That's good. I'm glad you have someone like that." You look over at him and smile, feeling light and fluffy.

Slowly, so slowly you're not sure you're actually moving, you bring your hand to his, interlacing your fingers.

He's shocked by the sudden physical touch but decides against commenting. Instead, he squeezes your hand gently and looks up at the stars with you, telling you stories every now and then.

“Can we go back to the car now, Bucky? I’m tired,” you whisper, eyes hardly opening as you push yourself to sit up.

“Of course. Do you want me to take you back to the clinic?” You look up at him as he stands up then shake your head. “No. I wanna stay with you. Don’t take me back yet.” He nods and pulls you to your feet, your hands staying clasped together.

You walk back to his car in silence, you almost falling over with exhaustion.

When you sit down, you can’t help but start shivering, the car cold from having been off for so long.

“Here, you can use my jacket as a blanket for now.” He shakes off his leather jacket and drapes it over you, surrounding you in his almond and mahogany scent.

“Thank you.” He nods and starts the car, smiling over at you as you lean your seat back. “Bucky... can you come visit me more often? Tonight was good.”

He starts driving, sparing a quick look down to where your hand is reaching for his. “Of course. Whenever you need or want me, I’ll come. I swear. You just call or text. Hell, email me if you want to. I might not be super good with technology, but if it’s from you I’ll figure out how to answer.” You chuckle softly and Bucky basks in the sound, having missed it after all this time.

You fall asleep in the car in no time, your hand in his as he drives around aimlessly, carefully avoiding potholes in the road so that you stay sleeping peacefully.

~*~

PERMANENT TAGS:

@smolbeanbucky @wildefire @inumorph @impalatobakerstreet @nanna022 @mummy-woves-you @m-a-t-91 @wtfholland @bookgirlunicorn @beautifulwisdom2001 @deep-sea-glitter @mrhiddles-81 @iamwarrenspeace @bitchacho25 @escapetheshackles @i-know-i-can @buckyssoul @swoonhui

MARVEL:

@fallenangelfangirl @look-to-the-stars-and-wish @maladaptive-ninja-returns @cliffordasparagus @april-14-blog @potteritis

DISTRUST:

@sthorkronstrangy @baebeepeach @phoenix-whiskey-tears @canumoveurseatup-no @marvel13princess @aplolomq @crist1216 @its-ray-bae @littledeadrottinghood @justendlesssummerfeels @whitewolfsnow @multireality @a--1--1--3 @some-random-stranger-007

#distrust #Steve rogers x reader #angst fic #Steve rogers x reader angst

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jurassicsickfics · 1 year

Note

I'm always a sucker for your Halloween sickfics, hardened caretaker Laurie makes me so so happy

Ok! Your wish is my command!

I'm using Annie Brackett as the sickie, even though she was killed in the first movie, I know their ages don't make sense as occurring at the same time but older, hardened soldier Laurie and teenage Annie is a combination I find adorable and I hope you agree. Enjoy!

It was a stormy night in Haddonfield; pitch black with occasional bolts of lightning illuminating the sleepy suburban streets. Laurie was seated at the kitchen table, sporting a teal tank top and leggings as she cleaned her rifle. It wasn't like it needed it, she cleaned it all the time, but, she needed some way to hide how worried she was, so, she opted for cleaning the weapon.

On the couch, bundled under blankets with a cold cloth on her head, was Annie. Her curly dark hair the only thing that proved there was more than just a pile of blankets on the couch. She hadn't felt quite right for some time, ever since about noon. She felt cold and hot at the same time and her stomach felt funny, but she couldn't really place the feeling, or label it. As Laurie finished pampering her beloved gun, she put it back in the rack and went to check on Annie.

"How are we feeling over here?" She asked, her husky voice tinged with sympathy. Annie shrugged.

"Ok I guess...Hey, um, Laurie?"

Laurie turned to her, "hm?"

"I know you're not much of a cuddler but...um...can you hold me for a while?" Annie asked, her voice sheepish as she hid her face in the covers.

Laurie gave a small smile, "of course. " She responded.

Laurie laid down next to Annie, and Annie scooted over to lay on top of her. Laurie squirmed into a more comfortable position under the smaller girl's weight, but quickly settled and laid her head back on the arm of the couch.

Annie sighed, her belly gurgling against Laurie's, as if calling for help. She was shaking a bit, and she buried her face in Laurie's chest. She didn't feel right at all, but she just couldn't figure out what exactly she was feeling.

Laurie gave Annie a series of back pats as she flipped through channels on the TV. The older woman wasn't really paying attention, until she heard a strangled whine come from Annie.

"You ok?" The older woman asked, running her fingers through Annie's hair.

"I-I don't know..." Annie replied, her voice shaky.

"What do you mean you don't know? Are you hurting?"

"I...Laurie..." Annie was crying now, her face a mask of pure misery and an awful feeling that she couldn't get a grasp on.

Laurie's expression softened greatly from her usual bravado, and turned to more of a motherly look. "Oh Annie, it's ok, just take deep breaths."

"Laurie... I don't feel...hrk..."

Laurie's eyes widened a bit, "Annie, honey do you need to-"

It was too late. By the time Annie realized what was happening she was throwing up down Laurie's front.

Laurie cringed, but, more from sympathy than disgust as she sat up, making a bowl with the bottom of her shirt in attempt to contain the mess. Annie stayed put, as she wasn't about to leave the comfort of her friend's lap, especially not right now. But Laurie didn't mind, she just held the shirt-bowl in place until Annie had finished emptying her upset stomach.

"I-I'm...*cough* So...sorry..." Annie sobbed.

"Don't worry about it, it's not your fault. " Laurie crooned in the softest voice she could muster.

As Annie coughed up the last of the stomach acid, her entire body relaxed.

"Mmm...Oh that feels so much better..." she breathed.

Laurie gave her a soft smile. "Good, I figured you'd feel better if you puked." She said.

Annie sighed, and gave Laurie an apologetic smile, "sorry about that..."

Laurie kissed her forehead in a loving, motherly way that she hardly ever showed. "It's fine, Annie. Really. You just go get yourself cleaned up, and I'll do the same, then we'll watch a movie, ok?"

Annie nodded. "You're the best, Laurie."

#sickfic #laurie strode #annie brackett #halloween 1978 #halloween 2018 #stomach bug #hurt/comfort

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ziracona · 5 years

Note

in living memory is my favourite dbd fic! seriously feels like it could be it’s own novel series. and i absolutely would purchase the hell out of it if it were asdhsfsff. i was wondering if you had any headcanons regarding the physical appearance of survivors (or killers, too!) since the in game models are... questionable and hard to rely on. if not, no worries!

Awww! Thank you so much! That is an incredibly meaningful thing to me, and I really appreciate it. And sure! I enjoy doing asks.

In general, I think I headcanon the characters as similar to their models, but obviously there’s some decent room for artist interpretation there, and I definitely have my share of #takes. I tend to fluctuate and like a whole lot of art interpretations of the characters, but I really, really love how @xmafiacatx draws Philip especially, and their picture of him saying he’s sorry was one of the first pieces of art for the game I saw and where I get all my own mental images of him from as base inspiration, and the way @dwightfairfields draws Jake and Dwight is exactly how I see the both of them. For the characters in films as well, like Quentin or Tapp, I think I see them as they looked in the film (Kyle Gallner/Danny Glover) and not their in-game model at all (there’s also a Tapp ask blog w a super great style). Although of course, Quentin and Laurie would both be a little older now. Michael and Laurie are a bit more complicated, but @lauriecynthia had a take I really loved for the sibs. I know Michael has had a lot of height/size iterations, and I dig the like 6+ feet tall for him, but while I think he’s obviously strong, I don’t think he’s like, Kronk from the Emperor’s New Groove jacked or something. He was in Smith’s Grove forever. He’s a little bit more lean than he tends to get drawn, but while I keep that from the og film canon and take my height more from the game and rz canon, I do go with more of a dirty blonde for him (like first film and like Laurie herself). I really like the sibs having the same hair color and somewhat similar faces—where you would definitely be able to tell they were related just looking at them beside each other, because that’s kind of heartbreaking. I think I see dbd Laurie as a little more dbd art specific than filmic interpretation, but with some obvious Jamie Lee Curtis inspiration drawn in. Especially eyes and that fantastic chin.

(putting the rest under a read more bc this got long)

While I am aware neither Meg nor Susie have freckles in their models, I see both of them with those. I’m also aware of canon heights, but Meg Thomas should not be as tall as she is, and I cannot be swayed. Do love her legs though—as a runner myself, that really be how runner legs look. Thighs like a log and calves like a brick. Regardless, Claudette, she, and Feng should all be similarly short. I also probably see Susie as bigger than her model intends, like a little bit plump and definitely not buff at all, and to my credit with that sweater you really can’t tell. There’s also not a whole lot of body diversity in the dbd character models, like you’ve really just got Jane and Jeff for any kind of plus-size representation at all, and that’s a huge shame. I think of Claudette as probably a little less tiny than she is in-game, and kind of soft all over and incredibly sweet and cute, but with really tough and calloused hands from all the work she does with them regularly, and very similar/close to her model. Jake as a lean kind of buff. I like the way people draw Kate a lot more than her model, so I see her as the kind of person who just looks like a nice person, tall, and muscular (now, after all that work she’s been putting in). Nea’s model also isn’t very kind to her, and I can never see her that well, :’-] , so I see her more based on how she tends to be drawn—punk, and the kind of person who looks like they’re about to tease you when they grin. From the game models it looks like Nea and Meg both have cutting scars, and that makes sense to me for both of them, and that’s such a common thing for people to go through as a teenager and young adult, I think it’s important to have characters that have definitely been through that too. I constantly forget how tall Quentin is, so I think in fic he probably hasn’t hit that last growth spurt just yet. It’s coming for him later, and he’s still a bit shorter than his game model.

Also, while I get Adam is a serious character and person, I don’t like that he’s perma-scowling in his in-game model, and that doesn’t fit how the game itself wrote him, so I see him looking a lot more relaxed-serious than that, and reliable. I think he gives off an air of being a lot older than he is, but if you took a hard look you’d be like, “Oh wait. You’re in your twenties damn.” I think he, Laurie, and Kate are especially tall among the young adults, with Dwight, Quentin, Jake, and David being shorter (David at the tallest of those), then Nea, then Meg, then Susie, then Feng, then Claudette. I see Jeff and Jane pretty much how they look in-game, because those designs are nice, and same for Ace. He looks like a nice guy always about to crack a joke and a bottle of champagne for the whole team. I think of Tapp as very tall, Jane and Jeff as pretty tall but shorter than him, and Ace as shorter than all three and more like Laurie/Kate/Adam height. I’m not sure why I see Laurie as tall so much—I think it might be the bellbottoms. They just have that effect on legs. And then of course, Philip towers over the others at over 7 feet. I also can’t think of a good way to describe this, but I think of Susie as both cuter and a lot more interesting looking than her in-game model. For Joey, I’d say pretty similar, and Frank, but I think of Julie with her hair grown out longer again, like about chin length, and curly/wavy. For Anna/the Huntress, I see her like her game model, but (most of the time anyway) with human eyes instead of the full-pupil thing. Which will actually get a little bit of elaboration next chapter, coincidentally. For David, I see him as a little bit probably younger looking than a lot of his model skins, and more like he tends to be drawn/his base skin, and like a tough but also nice dude. Also, with the sort of 12’oclock shadow, but no beard.

Sorry if this wasn’t what you meant and you meant more like, dress style or something, but I hope this is of interest at least. : D Thanks for the ask!

#In Living Memory (fic)#In Living Memory #ask #anonymous #dead by daylight

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freddiesaysalright · 5 years

Text

My Man Part IV

A Ben!Roger Taylor x Reader Fic

Summary: Reader is a Broadway actress currently starring in a West End production of Funny Girl. She’s a widow, thanks to the Vietnam War, but it’s a well-kept secret. She also wants everyone to think she doesn’t care for rock music. She met Roger Taylor when he brought his date backstage. They didn’t start off great, but a party at Freddie’s turned them around. Now, they’re friends.

Word Count: 2.1K

Tag List: @bohemian-war @kittygirlno @rebelrebelyourefaceisamess @rockyroadthepastryarchy @goodoldfashionedloverboyy @jennyggggrrr @discodeacygotmorerhythm @x1975sos If you’d like to be added, let me know!

Part I Part II Part III

Over the coming weeks, your time with Roger became as sacred to you as the hours you were on stage each night. He was so open and fun and passionate, and he brought that out of you whether you realized it or not. In the years after losing George, you became a ghost. A shadow of a woman who went through the motions. You only showed energy on stage. With Roger, you were alive. You were an active participant in your spirit flourishing. Even Gary told you that your Fanny Brice was improved. You sang more soulfully, your jokes hit harder, and your tears meant more.

You could not place when exactly Roger had done this for you. But you guessed it was the slow chipping away at the wall around your heart. It had taken years to build. Now came this idiot drummer with a good smile and wicked humor. It made you incredibly happy but more conflicted than ever.

You could not deny your attraction to him after that first of several erotic dreams about him. Even when you were awake and he touched your arm or hugged you, you thought about what it would be like. Not only to make love to him, but to be his. To give him your heart completely.

Then you remembered George. True, it had been years, but he was the only man you’d ever been with. And you thought the love you shared with him was once in a lifetime. When he died, you told yourself there was no way you could ever feel that again. But with Roger, you felt the butterflies and the happiness. It was less hopeful than with George, since you were terrified of being hurt more than ever. Your heart was beaten and battered and you did not think you could take it if you lost Roger too. All the emotions would hit you at once and you’d get so overwhelmed. Weirdly enough, the person to calm you down was always Roger.

You also hung out with the band a lot. They were always popping over to each others’ places and spending time, even outside the studio. It was very sweet.

One day, you were at Roger’s and he was playing around on the drums. You liked to watch him play because his focus was incredible. You got to see how seriously he took his craft. It reminded you of all your late nights going over lines or pushing your voice to hit a note just once more. You had never realized how much went into drumming before.

“How do you do that?” you wondered aloud.

He stopped. “Do what?”

“Look so effortlessly talented.”

His brow furrowed. “Are you joking?”

“No!” you assured him. “You just make it look so easy.”

“It’s not,” he replied, smiling a little. “But don’t you think you do the same thing?”

“I don’t look like I’m having nearly as much fun,” you said.

“I disagree.”

“Could you teach me?” you asked suddenly.

His face lit up like the Fourth of July. “Hell yeah!”

He beckoned you over and let you take a seat behind the drum set. He stood behind you and guided you through a couple beats from Queen songs. You struggled through it, often doing the same thing with both hands.

Chuckling, he said, “Let me help you.”

He wrapped his hands around yours and moved them for you, slowly. His touch was soft and warm and you could feel his breath on your neck as he leaned over you. It sent a shiver down your spine.

Then he watched you attempt it again. You couldn’t help but notice the way he bit his lip watching you play. After a few more tries, you got it on your own.

“I nailed it!” you cried, excitedly. “But seriously, I don’t know how you do this.”

“Years of practice,” he returned. “Just like you, I expect.”

“That’s true.”

“Can you teach me something?” he asked, a sly look on his face.

“What could I possibly teach you?” you returned.

“Teach me to dance,” he said.

“I suppose I can try,” you agreed. “Move the couch back and I’ll move the coffee table.”

You did so, and it left ample space for the pair of you. He met you in the center of the room, and you were barely a foot from one another. You moved to adjust his arms for his frame before coming to stand in front of him again.

“Have you ever done the foxtrot?” you asked.

“Never in my life,” he told you.

“Okay,” you said with a laugh. “It’s not too difficult, I swear.”

You showed him the basic steps; what to do on which count and how to hold his frame. You felt a bit flushed at times when he was holding you so close. You took a turn about the room, and he finished with dipping you, causing you to laugh.

“Very good!” you praised as he led you upright again.

“Have I swept you off your feet?” he teased.

You rolled your eyes.

“I’ll just have to keep working on it then,” he said.

“Let’s put the furniture back,” you said.

Just when his living room was returned to its usual state, the door burst open. In walked Freddie, John, and Brian. They looked at Roger expectantly.

“What is it, guys?” he asked.

“Did either of you read the latest issue of In Tune?” Brian asked.

In Tune was a gossip magazine specifically about musicians. It was generally considered garbage, and yet they still sold out on shelves. Even a fake scandal was better than nothing, apparently.

“No,” you answered. “My eyes happen to be attached to my brain.”

Roger sniggered. John tossed you the magazine.

“You two made the front page,” he said.

“What?!” you gasped, looking at the cover.

It was true. There was a photo of you and Roger leaving a movie theater. The headline read, “Roger Taylor’s New Flame! A Secret Wedding?” In the corner, they had placed a close up of your left hand where your wedding ring was visible.

“Alright, Y/N, front page!” Roger joked, offering his hand for a high five.

You gave it to him, grinning. “Tony’s be damned, this is the greatest accomplishment of my life!”

They all laughed.

“How did you find this?” you asked.

“Saw it on the news stand,” Brian explained.

“I was just so thrilled they weren’t talking about me for once,” Freddie added.

“Did you read the article?” you wondered.

“No, we figured we’d wait and share that with you,” Freddie said.

You checked the cover and saw that the story was on page thirteen. Eagerly, you flipped to it and began to read aloud; “Roger Taylor, drummer for the infamous rock band Queen, was spotted coming out of a London cinema with a mystery lady last weekend. We suspect the pair eloped and have been together for months, as Taylor has not been seen in public with the usual amount of bimbos around him - now, that’s rude - for several weeks. Also, the new woman wears a plain band on her left ring finger. Could it be the playboy drummer has settled down at last? We intend to find out more! - Ugh it just goes on about women you’ve taken out before.”

“Do they really not know you’re the star of a West End show?” John wondered, taking the magazine and scanning it. “That seems rather ignorant.”

“That’s In Tune for you,” you said. “All about the rock stars and disco divas. Nothing about us poor, untalented Broadway performers.”

“It does mention you were seeing Grease,” John pointed out.

“Well, that is vital information,” Brian said.

Freddie looked at Roger. “Really? Grease?”

“She likes musicals!” Roger returned indignantly. “Also it was a cheap, late night showing.”

“A right Prince Charming, you are,” Brian remarked.

“Shut up,” Roger retorted.

“Really, you’d think you could splurge for the new Mrs,” you chimed in.

“Alright, next time I’ll take you to Paris,” he said. “How’s that for romance?”

“Can we still go see Grease though?” you said through a laugh.

“Sorry, but John Travolta’s head is too large for his body and it freaks me out,” he replied.

You giggled. “What the hell?”

“It’s just a thing,” he said with a shrug.

“My darlings, we’ve got to be at the studio,” Freddie interrupted. “We’re already late.”

“Only ‘cause we picked you up first,” John said.

Freddie grinned and then looked at you. “Would you like to come along?”

You shook your head. “I’ve got to get home before I head to the theater.”

“Want me to walk you home, Y/N?” Roger offered.

“No, thanks, I can make it,” you said.

“Have a good show,” he told you.

“Break a leg, darling,” Freddie said. “And come have dinner with us when it’s over.”

“You’ve got it, Mr. Mercury,” you promised.

You left after hugging them all. As you walked, you reflected. Each time you left Roger, your guilt subsided a little. You felt lighter than air as you entered your own flat. But your thoughts were interrupted when your phone rang.

“Hello?” you answered.

“Y/N,” the voice on the other end of the line was your agent, Stephen. “Are you busy?”

“Not at all, what’s up?” you asked.

“I’ve got incredible news for you,” he said. “There’s a production of Oklahoma in the works for here on West End, and the director is in town today. He called me and asked if you’d be willing to try for the part of Laurie!”

You nearly dropped your phone. Laurie was your dream role. The one that made you want to be an actress in the first place.

“You still there?” he asked.

“Yes,” you said, a little breathless. “I’m just - you know how I feel about that role!”

“I do, dear!” he returned. “I’m so excited for you! Can you meet him tomorrow at his hotel room?”

You froze. Meeting a stranger at his hotel room seemed odd. It was far from professional. You normally met a director or producer at a theater if they didn’t have an office.

“Is everything okay?” Stephen asked. “I know it’s a bit unorthodox, but he’s heading to America in three days to meet with the guy he wants for Curly. If you want me to tell him you can’t - ”

“Don’t be silly, I’ll go there,” you said, trying to sound more easy about it than you were.

“Great, I’ll let him know,” he said. “He wants to meet at two.”

He gave you the address and you wrote it down. You thanked Stephen and when you hung up, you squealed.

“I’m going to be Laurie!” you cried, pumping your fist in the air.

Later that night, you met up with Roger and the guys for dinner like you promised. As soon as you got to the restaurant, you ran to Roger and leapt into his arms. He spun you around and kissed your cheek.

“What’s got into you?” he wondered.

“I got the best news before the show tonight,” you said.

You explained to them what your agent said and they congratulated you. Roger was silent, though.

“What?” you asked.

“I don’t like the idea of you meeting him in a hotel room,” he said. “It’s sketchy.”

“Come on, Rog, you heard what she said,” Brian said, comfortingly. “It’s an unusual circumstance. I’m sure they’ll meet again properly, but she’s got to get her foot in the door.”

“Thank you, Mr. May,” you said, and then turned back to Roger. “Can’t you just be supportive?”

He frowned but agreed. “Of course. Congrats, Y/N.”

“Thank you,” you returned, but the tension remained the rest of the night.

When dinner was over, Roger did walk you home. As you fell in step beside him, his silence made you crazy. It felt childish but you refused to be the first one to speak. If he had a problem with how you handled your career, that was on him. You had nothing to apologize for.

“Can I see that address again?” he said, coming to an abrupt stop.

It was an odd way to begin an apology, but you obliged. You fetched the slip of paper from your bag and handed it to him.

“This is right around the corner from the studio,” he said. “Will you come by afterward and tell me how it goes?”

You beamed. “Of course I will!”

“Wonderful,” he returned and then gave you the directions. “You will be careful, won’t you?”

“You know me,” you said. “I’m always careful. Plus, I’m a grown woman. I don’t need protecting. Okay?”

With an irritated sigh he said, “Okay.”

“Thank you,” you returned. “Now, get me home, I’m getting cold.”

He didn’t reply, but took you under his arm for the rest of the walk.

#queen #roger taylor x reader #ben hardy x reader #ben!roger x reader #bohemian rhapsody #borhap #ben hardy #ben!roger taylor #ben!roger imagine #roger taylor #roger taylor x you #queen fanfic #queen imagine #freddie mercury #brian may #john deacon #rami malek #gwilym lee #joe mazzello

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forhelvede · 5 years

Text

Where the Storm Meets the Ground Ch.2

I have no idea what I’m doing.

Chapter 2- Before Dawn

The smile Alexei gave her when she said she’d help was enough to probably melt her cold heart. He was an adorable kid. She wasn’t sure why she kept calling him kid. Maybe it was her way of distancing herself from the adorable, curly haired genius sitting on the couch near her.

Kind of hard to believe he was capable of ending the world, or at least Hawkins.

“Okay, great, so where do we start? What do you recommend miss Special Agent?” Jim said sarcastically.

Laurie felt her warming heart turn to ice again but she bit back an angry comment. Now wasn’t the time to delve into their past and certainly not in front of Murray or Alexei. She did want to sit down with Jim and talk, but there was the pressing matter of impending doom.

“Oh yes!” Joyce said excitedly, ignoring the obvious contempt in Jim’s voice. “You’re in the FBI, you can get agents or the military or whomever to come help, right?”

Laurie grimaced. “Um…probably not?” she said, listening to Murray translate in the background.

Joyce’s face fell. “Why not? The Russians are trying to kill us!”

“Yeah, but…it’s going to take a while to convince my superiors and they’re going to want more evidence than Alexei, your, forgive me for saying, paranoid delusions, and some drawings on whopper wrappers,” she said honestly and she tried to use a soft voice. “I believe you, but convincing the FBI proper is a different story. We frankly don’t have time for that. Sorry.”

Joyce looked disappointed and Laurie didn’t blame her. She had kids in Hawkins, a life. Russians opening a gate and unleashing some monster, or even if they just blew up the city, wasn’t good.

“But don’t worry. I’m good with a gun,” Laurie joked, winking at Joyce. The older woman managed a weak smile.

“We’ll call Owens. He can get the military,” Jim said, matter-of-factly.

“Who the fuck is Owens?” Laurie asked, looking at Jim.

“Dr. Owens. Works for the Department of Energy. He was involved in some stuff last year in Hawkins. He gave me a number to call if we needed help.”

Laurie threw up her hands as anger began to course through her. The Department of Energy? A conspiracy and cover up in Hawkins? All of it was too much in too short of time. “The fucking Department of Energy can call in the fucking military?” she yelled. “I fucking hate this government! Fucking kill me,” she muttered as she stood up from the chair. “Fucking Russians and monsters and now the Department of Energy was doing experiments? I mean,” she muttered to herself angrily as she stalked around Murray’s sad excuse for a living room. “Six years. I’m so close.” Laurie balled up her fists and ground her teeth together. “I’m gonna die in fucking Hawkins!”

“Uh, Laurie?” Jim said from the couch. “Are you okay?”

“AM I OKAY?” she yelled as she rounded on the group. “This is insane, Jim! MONSTERS? ANOTHER DIMENSION? What the fuck!” Alexei, though not understanding what she was saying, looked terrified at her outburst. His eyes went wide and he leaned away from her, though she was nowhere near him. Murray looked somewhat baffled.

“Oh no, she’s freaking out,” Joyce said, her motherly instinct seeming to come out. She stood up from the other couch, trying to appear calming and kind. “Laurie, it’s okay. Go ahead, freak out.”

“Wait-what? No, she shouldn’t freak out!” Jim yelled. “She needs to calm down!”

“She needs to freak out, Hop! We’ve had years of this stuff, she’s found out all of this insanity today in like an hour! Let her freak out. She’ll be fine.”

Laurie wanted to scream. She wanted to hit something. All of these years she had carefully crafted a career that was leading to one end point. She did her job, and did it well, she didn’t make enemies at the FBI (though there was always some man that thought women shouldn’t be Agents, let alone field agents), and she kept her cover. When she hit 20 years she would retire and find some lazy job that didn’t require going undercover or spending days researching whatever or investigating. Just lazy days.

But this? This could ruin her plans. Maybe she’d die today. Maybe she’d go to prison for killing Jim. Maybe this Russian would ruin everything.

Laurie spun on her heels to look at Alexei, trying to figure out if she had made the right decision to help him. He looked helpless; looked like a young man that knew nothing and could help no one. And yet…yet he was a Doctor and a scientist and dangerous.

What if he was playing them all? Using his boyish looks to lull them into a false sense of security?

Yet, as Laurie stared him down, furiously glaring at the Russian man, he continued to look terrified and she felt like she could see through him. Her initial thought of helping may be the correct choice.

And who would she be if she walked away?

I hate you, Laurie thought to herself as she looked at Murray, blaming him for the fact she was here and involved. “Alright, I’m fine,” she said tersely. Letting her hands relax, Laurie felt her shoulders drop. “So, you can call the fucking Department of Energy, which is fucking insane, but okay. Make the call and then we go to Hawkins. We’ll take Alexei to Starcourt Mall, we’ll infiltrate the Russian’s underground bunker, shut off the key and the Department of Energy can arrest the Russians. Okay?”

“Sounds like a plan,” Jim said, still reeling from her freak out. He stood up and walked over to Laurie. “How about we speak outside first?” he suggested in a quiet voice.

Laurie almost said no, but she nodded instead. The pair headed outside, leaving Joyce with Murray and Alexei. As the heavy bunker door shut behind them, Jim quickly rounded on Laurie.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” he said, a little angrier than the sentence would imply.

“I’m fine, Jim.”

“That didn’t sound fine,” he said, pointing back to the house. “That sounded like you don’t want to be here.”

“Right, and you do? Fuck off.” Laurie waved him off and walked around him, absentmindedly walking around the driveway. “It’s just not how I envisioned this little visit going.”

“Lore, listen, you could just walk away.”

It was her turn to round on Jim, her jaw clenched angrily. “I should punch you for that. This is my job, Jim! I can’t just walk away and then lie to my boss! I’m not putting my job on the line for you,” she said angrily, poking him in the chest. “You aren’t worth that.”

Jim looked hurt, frowning deeply. “I don’t want you to do something you don’t believe in. I believe in this.”

She rolled her eyes. “I work for the FBI, Jim. That’s nothing new.” She sighed. “A kid?” she questioned.

He shrugged. “El…she needed a family.”

Laurie narrowed her eyes at him, noticing his shirt was floral but actually had fucking flamingos on it? She shook her head. It wasn’t that Jim had been a bad dad or husband, but the way he was when she last saw him…it perhaps had clouded her overall view of him. “Are you happy?” she asked after a moment.

He crossed his arms and his body seemed to tense. “Its tough work being the father of a teenage girl,” he admitted.

Laurie chuckled. “I remember those days. Diane, Emily, and I were assholes, for sure. Our poor parents.” She smiled as she remembered all of the times all three girls snuck out of the house in high school. Emily was always the worst at it, somehow managing to knock over something or shut the window too loudly. The memories faded away and she softened towards Jim. “I’m sure it’s not as bad as you think. If you treat her like a prisoner she’ll never forgive you. Set boundaries but let her live, Jim. There’s nothing wrong with her making mistakes. You can’t protect her from everything.”

Jim stared at her for a moment before nodding. “I just know teenage boys.”

Laurie smirked. “But do you know El?” she questioned.

He nodded. “I think so.”

“Then let her live.” Laurie tapped Jim lightly on his arm. “You look like shit, by the way. Take a shower.”

He narrowed his eyes at her. “You stopped dying your hair,” he commented.

“Too much upkeep. I’m getting lazy in my old age.”

He guffawed loudly. “Yeah, 35 is just so old.”

“36, actually, but I’m touched you were close.”

Jim chuckled, rubbing his hand over his beard. “You happy, Lore?” he asked after a minute of silence.

She smiled largely. “Nope.” She winked and turned on her heel to go back into the house. Happiness, her sometimes partner Agent Floyd Tomlinson always said, was a fleeting emotion meant to placate people into a boring life with a white picket fence and a spouse that barely tolerated you. Nobody was ever really happy and there wasn’t anything wrong with that.

When Laurie walked back into the Murray’s sad attempt at a living room (finally noticing the dozens of TVs on one of the walls, stacked precariously) she was shocked to see that Alexei had curled up on one of the couches, already asleep. He had taken off his glasses and set them on the table with his pocket protector. Without his glasses, sleeping, he looked older. She looked over at Joyce in confusion. The woman shrugged and then walked over to the far side of the living room where Murray was leaning against a desk.

Laurie and Jim joined the other two, curious what they had planned.

“Now,” Joyce said, picking up Murray’s phone and shoving it into Jim’s chest, “call Owens.”

Laurie was still confused by the whole Department of Energy thing, but she figured she could unpack that later, presumably when she meets this Dr. Owens.

Jim quickly dialed the number as Murray hovered close by, Joyce by his side. Laurie stood away from them, watching the comical scene in front of them.

“Two minutes, Jim. It’s a secure line but anything long than that and they can trace you,” Murray said, the paranoia coming back out.

“Yeah, I want them to trace me,” Jim replied.

“What?” Murray said. Even Laurie was surprised. This was going to upset Murray, big time.

Laurie watched, the scene growing more comical by the second as Jim stumbled through the conversation, not prepared to give an identification name. He got off the phone, casually heading into the living room to sit on the free couch, lighting up a cigarette. Murray had fallen into a chair, giving up on everything.

But Joyce was not happy. She snapped at Jim.

“How are you so calm?”

“I’m not calm!” he said through a cigarette.

This is the best day of my life, Laurie thought, enjoying the whole scenario. She kept quiet as Joyce now took the phone and called back the number that Jim had just called. Joyce started off calmly, but the person on the other end had clearly insulted her in some way because she suddenly went off, yelling at the person on the other end of the phone.

Laurie stood, arms crossed, watching Joyce scream into the phone. She grimaced, pulling her neck muscles taut deciding then and there she would never get on the woman’s bad side. Curious, Laurie turned around to see that Alexei was still deep asleep. She figured the Russian probably had learned to get sleep whenever he could, even when things, or people, were being loud around him. It was a talent that Laurie had never really learned.

She turned back to Joyce as she finished yelling at the poor soul on the other end of the phone. She slammed the phone back onto the receiver and set the phone down on the table. Poor Murray looked absolutely distraught at what had just transpired, sitting bewildered in a chair, hands up in the air.

Clearing her throat, Laurie leaned closer to Murray. “I guess I’m not going to need to delete your address from the FBI database, huh?” she whispered.

Murray pushed himself up from the chair, grunted in her face, and then turned away, walking away from the group. Laurie was left, smiling awkwardly. They were a delightful little group.

“How long have you known his address?” Jim asked, momentarily ignoring his annoyance at Joyce.

“It took a few months, but we’ve known for almost as long as he’s lived here,” she admitted.

Jim seemed almost impressed, apparently believing that Murray was some master at staying hidden. He just wasn’t a priority for the FBI. They weren’t worried about him. “Wow. I-”

“Hopper!” Joyce yelled, pushing between Jim and Laurie. “We’re leaving!” she ordered them, heading straight for Alexei.

“Aww, let the kid sleep a little longer, Joyce!” Laurie heard herself saying. Her heart seized in her chest. What was wrong with her?

Joyce stopped, standing over Alexei’s sleeping body, looking over at Laurie. Jim turned slowly, looking at her in confusion.

“I’m sure you’re all tired,” she added awkwardly, trying to hide from this growing concern for the Russian. “We really have to leave now?” she asked.

Joyce nodded angrily. “Yeah. We’ve got to get to our kids.”

“Well, then. Maybe…you could just let him sleep until we’re actually leaving?” Laurie suggested softly.

“Why are you so concerned?” Jim questioned. Laurie could hear the accusation in his voice.

“Because….Jim, he’s the genius. So let him sleep so he can be on his A game. Ya know?” She hoped she was convincing. She certainly didn’t want him to sleep because he looked so cute sleeping.

That definitely wasn’t it.

Joyce and Jim exchanged a look before Jim shrugged. Joyce threw her hands up in the air, but moved away from the sleeping Russian. Laurie took a seat in the chair next to the couch, staring decidedly at the smattering of notes on the table and not at the sleeping Russian. One page grabbed her attention. She pulled it closer on the table and stared down at the few words of Russian on the page.

It looked to be the final page of notes and Alexei, presumably had ended it by writing “Destroy the machine and then I can live the American dream.”

Laurie smiled sadly before looking over at the sleeping Russian. She had helped three Russians defect before and she hadn’t liked them. She had barely trusted them, but the FBI had wanted to take the risk. Alexei, however, was one that Laurie might actually trust. He might actually benefit American society.

Yeah, she was definitely going to help him.

And it definitely had nothing to do with him being cute.

#Stranger Things #Stranger Things Season 3 #ST Season 3 #Alexei #Alexei Smirnoff #Murray Bauman #ST Fanfic #Where the Storm Meets the Ground fanfic #Jim Hopper #Joyce Byers

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boshawbearclaw · 6 years

Text

Flames In The Ashes Chapter 6

Warning in general, smut for days bruh,

@kittywolfy

9 hours after they crashed into the wonderful world of dreams, Lucas woke up layin' in the middle of Raw dog and Randy, their limbs entangled around Lucas like a safety blanket. Lucas had his arms around each of their shoulders, subconsciously pulling them closer, he leans a little to each side to pepper kisses onto their foreheads.

For once in years, he feels content and happy, but that moment was short lived because his alarm went off, "Goddammit, fuckin' loud piece of shit." He grumbles as he reaches over to his grab his phone with his right hand, bringing it closer to his face, his eyes harshly adjusts to the screen, squinting his eyes he makes out the time, 08:00AM. he shuts that shit down by tapping the on the part of the screen where it says 'cancel'.

Raw dog burries his face into Lucas' neck, grumbling about not having the stamina to run in gym class, Randy woke up at the same time as Lucas so he was just staring at his lovers face while smiling softly and stroking Lucas' little stomach hairs.

Lucas' phone buzzed 20 times during the night but they were out like a light, as he scrolls through the texts the more frustrated he becomes with each word he reads, there is no reason as to why they need to be so damn rude to him.

Lucas huffs and tosses his phone onto a random pile of clothes, "What's wrong, Lucas?" Randy asks softly, making Lucas look at him, he leans forward and rubs his forehead against Randy's at an attempt at affection. Randy smiles then leans in closer to fill in the space between them with a chaste kiss.

"I have to go to work, I'll be back later. I love you both." Lucas states as he gets up, raw dog unwillingly detangles his limbs with soft grumbles, the man scoots closer to Randy and wrapped his arms around him nuzzling his chest. Lucas watched the display with a smirk on his face.

''S good to be back, now to get dressed'' he thinks to himself, he turns back to face his closet and grabs random shit and puts them on, a black def Leppard shirt with a worn flannel and worn jeans with holes in the knees.

Lucas shuffles tiredly into the kitchen to make himself breakfast, a simple sandwhich really, he'll eat anything he can get his hands on, the music playing on the radio in the kitchen droned on as he finished making his sandwich, he ate quickly and when he was done eating he put up his dished then shuffled to the door and put his boots on before leaving.

He jumped down his steps, grunting a little when his booted feet his the ground harder than he intended, he walked over to his truck and got into it, he grabs the keys from the sun visor and stuck them into the ignition, turning the keys to start the car.

Lucas smiled at the sound of the engine roaring to life, he then took off down the dirt road towards the entrance to the trailer park, passing the gate he speeds down the road until he starts passing cars, he then grabs his phone from his pocket that he grabbed and stuffed into there before he left.

Lucas searches his texts for the directions on where the fuck to go, he grunts in annoyance when he reads the part where it says he needs to go to Atlanta for the table reading. Lucas turns on the radio and switches over to the hair bands station and turns up the volume.

As he entered city limits he was met with lots of people and cars everywhere, he was overwhelmed to say the least. Lucas sat at the first stoplight of today, the car next to him had a blonde soccer mom and her little shits in the back of her little mini van, already he was showing signs of his frequent aggressive behavior today.

He stared and rolled his eyes as she was on the phone with some fuck he didnt care about, her pink and purple yoga pants were obnoxious, his mind wandered absently as ge continues to stare. Lucas thought of what itd be like if he ate her flesh.

The rest of his thought was interrupted by the car behind him honking their horn, he retaliates by flipping them off and speeding off towards the offices, when he gets to the parking lot of the building he finds a random spot and parks there, shutting off the truck and plucking out the keys, he gets out and stuffs them in his pocket.

Lucas walks into the building and was met with a security guard and metal detector checkpoint, 'Fuck this shit' he grumbled as he walked over to the line, he stood out in this type of crowd considering everyone else wore professional clothing but he wore something a redneck would wear.

"Sir, empty your pockets and put any items in the tub then step through the metal detector, please." The guard said, Lucas snapped out of his stupor and did what the guard said, emptied his pockets then walked through the detector, beeps were heard as the guards computer monitor highlights Lucas' head, chest and crotch.

"Do you have any jewelry that cant be removed like piercings?" The guard questions, Lucas blushes and nods, "oh, ok you can head on in then." The guard motions twoards the hall just past the metal detector, "mhm." Lucas said simply, grabbing his shit that sat in the tub thing, he then head twoards the room that the table reading is being held.

"234, no, 235,no, ah 236." He knocked on the door with the shave and haircut tune, he waited there a moment before the door opened and the cute bear greeted him with a smile, "Lucas your here! Thats great, come sit down we're just about to start." Kirkman moves outta the way enough for him to get into the room, he shut the door behind Lucas, ushering him to his seat in between two guys, one guy had short curly hair and an angular jaw and the other that straight choppy hair with chin fuzz and sunglasses on.

"Everyone this is Lucas Boshaw, our own piece of Georgia history for the show, hes a little shy so be nice." Kirkman announced as Lucas got seated, they all looked at him with curious stares, the raven haired man shifts uncomfortably under the heavy gazes of the people at the large table.

"Lets get started, so, the episode starts with rick showing up at a gas station walking around, he then encounters a little girl, he calls out to her then she turns around and he finds out that the little girl was a zombie, in a panic he pulls out his Python revolver and pops her in the head, then the intro scene starts."

Everyone looked intrigued, even Lucas as he nodded his head slightly in agreement, "And then it starts as if everything was normal, Rick and his partner Shane sitting off to the side of the road eating lunch when they get a call on their radio about and hit and run turned full on high-speed chase, when they get there there's a shoot out. Then Rick gets shot, it shows him in the hospital getting visited by Shane but unbeknownst to him that a few months go by,-"

Everyone is so focused on what kirkman is explaining that theyre all staring at him like zombies looking at fresh meat, "- The camera starts at the ground following some roughed up boots, Lucas', and music starts playing, preferably something that came out before the 2000s, he continues walking when he stumbles across Rick calling for help. The music then cuts fades out when lucas takes off his head phones." The boss continues to fill everyones head with the script.

In the middle of Jon Bernthol's question about his character a ringtone shouted from someones pocket, "country roads take me home!" Some of giggled at Lucas' ringtone he rushed to answer it, "shit sorry hoss hold on, what do you want? No i havent seen him...well if i do later ill tell Stanley your looking for him,....ok Lamar, bye." Lucas shuts off his phone as he apologized for the disruption.

As the meeting went on they introduced themselves to each other, apparently the british guy on Lucas' right was named Andrew Lincoln who plays Rick Grimes, and to his left was Norman Reedus who plays Daryl Dixon, and the rest of the actors and actresses are Melissa McBride as Carol Pelletier, Chandler Riggs as Carl Grimes, Steven Yeun as Glenn Rhee, Lennie James as Morgan Jones, Laurie Holden as Andrea, Sarah Wayne Callies ad Lori Grimes, IronE Singleton as T-dog, Michael Rooker as Merle Dixon, Jeffrey DeMunn as Dale Horvath.

Apparently kirkman had the whole first season written out and planned already, the actors, actresses and extras and crew already. At the end of the table reading they were told to come in tomorrow to start shooting, when everyone left to go towards the parking lot, Lucas had stopped next to his truck and sat on the hood and pulled out his virgins slims and a lighter.

Norman appeared in his peripheral vision, Lucas jumped slightly, he turned to look at the squinting man. "You're Lucas right? How You uh adjusting to your new life so far?" Norman asked as he leaned against the trucks bumper, "It's going way better than i thought it would, to be honest."

Norman nodded with a smile, scooting closer to Lucas he started whispering, "your friends with Robert kirkman right? If you tell him to not kill off my character in the first season ill let you fuck me." Norman begs, Lucas raised his eyebrows, "Really? You'll let me fuck you if i convince kirkman to not kill off your character? Christ you're bold, Mm alright I'll talk to him." Lucas said softly, Normans face lit up when the other man agreed.

The older man shot forward and hugged Lucas, he gasped softly in surprise, "Thank you so much Lucas, oh god you have no idea how happy it makes me to hear you say that." Norman squeaks into Lucas' stomach, "Do um do you wanna fuck me now? Or later." Norman said quietly as he let go of Lucas, the man nodded and hopped down from the hood.

Norman smiled sweetly at Lucas, "Get in Bubba, we need to make a stop before i go to town on your ass, heh." Lucas said as he rounded the side of his truck and got inside it, Norman got in the passenger seat as Lucas started the truck. They start their destination back twoards the trailer park.

A mile or 2 after they drove past city limits they stopped at a truck stop for some cigarettes and dill pickle flavored sun flower seeds, the heat of the Georgia sun showed as beads of sweat dribbles down the sides of their faces, Lucas parked the truck and got out, Norman following behind him closely.

On their way through the parking lot they spot an expensive looking green mini van, Lucas scoffs and continues on. Once they enter the shop Lucas immediately figured out who that mini van belong to, a rich suburban family wearing matching clothes were in the candy section picking out their selection of sugary snacks.

By the looks of them they're obviously tourists.

The mother with the 'may i speak to your manager' haircut turns to look at who walked in the store, once she spotted them she got uncomfortable as she stared at the tattooed man who stands over 6 feet with a muscular body and handsome but dangerous look about him.

Lucas sticks out his split tongue and flicks it lewdly in her direction, she blushes and looks away which causes Lucas to smirk, he strolled down the same candy isle, staring at the possible goodies Hangin' on the rack.

Norman scampers over to him, huddling close to him, "C'mon sweety lets see what your dad found." The mom said, Lucas glanced behind him and smirked when the mother blinked in his direction. Once they grab what they want they head over to the cash register, little goodies grasped in their hands.

They dropped 'em onto the counter with a clang, the cashier jumps slightly, the young girl behind the register starts checking out their items and puts them in a plastic bag, "Your total is $21.98." She states, Lucas nods and grabs a 20 and a 5 from his wallet that was previously in his back pocket, he waved her goodbye and leaves with the bag of goodies in his hand, Norman follows him back to the truck.

Soon the pair were on the road heading twoards their destination, 5 miles before the trailer park is when Lucas remembered that he has his best friends waiting for him, with that in mind he pulls over to the side of the road and shuts the trucks engine off. "Why are we stopping?" Norman questions, Lucas didn't say anything as he got out of the cab and rounded the side over to the passenger side.

He opened the door and pulled Norman out of the seat, using his large body to press against Normans smaller one, Lucas kisses his lips softly and nibbles on them with care, Lucas' lanky hands grasped at the mans ass. Moans escaped their throats as they hump each other feverishly, Norman undoes his own button and zipper so he could push down his pants and briefs.

Lucas stared hungrily at Norman, an animalistic look in his eyes that frightened the older man but made him even more turned on, Lucas flipped him around and undid his jeans as well, he also grabbed some lube from underneath the passenger seat and squirted some onto his aching cock, he chucks it onto the floor of the truck before he spreads the mans ass apart and slides his cock against the other man's hole.

Norman whines, "Please Lucas, fuck me already, i cant wait any longer.", Lucas smirked before sinking his large pierced cock into his winking pink hole, Norman winces a little but gets used to the fullness moments later, " Aah fuck, you're fucking cock is so big, i feel like im gonna split apart!" Norman reached out behind himself and holds open his cheeks.

Growls are heard as Lucas plunges his cock into Norman, nothing was on their mind besides the feeling of intense pleasure and heat swirling around in the pits of their gut, not even the fact that they might get caught by the highway Patrol or the families coming in or out of Atlanta, "Hnng fuck Norman, you feel so good,,." Lucas moans as he leans over the other man, biting the soft fleshy junction between his neck and shoulder.

Norman starts starts to get wrigley as he nears his climax, Lucas drools on his back as his own mouth hung open while he pounded Norman's ass, minutes of multiplying heated pleasure later, Lucas' thrusts became more erratic as he neared his own climax, "Argh fuck fuck fuck!" Lucas shouted as he came inside Normans hole.

They stayed like that for a minute before Lucas hucked his pants up and knelt down onto the dirt, he spread Norman's sore hole and started to lather the winking pink hole with his split tongue, soothing the slight bruising and miniscule tears while slurping up the cum that leaks out.

Lucas reaches through Norman's legs and grabs his aching dick, jerking him off at an agonizingly slow pace, "Aahh, fuck me, mm im gonna cum!" He yells into his fore arm, Lucas smirked before he began pushing his tongue in and out of Norman's ass.

Moments later the man was pushed over his edge, he came with a shout immediately after, his whole body shivered as cum spurted out of his cock. Lucas was done with licking him up a moment later, he got up off his knees and sucked on his fingers while Norman pulled his pants back up and buttoned them close.

Lucas stopped his finger licking to make a joke about how the mans ass is, "Finger lickin' good!" Norman turned around with a cute smile on his face, Lucas smirked at his face before kissing his lips softly while grabbing his bruised hips gently.

Lucas pulls away first and helps him into the truck before walking around the cab to get into the truck and starts the engine.

"Im gonna drop you off at the office so you can get on your bike and ride home, i don't think youd like my abode, heh." Lucas says before making his way back to Atlanta, the ride was mostly quiet save for the hair band playing on the radio, they made it back before sundown so that gave Norman to go home so he could do everything he needs to do before bed time.

An hour later Lucas was eating dinner with Randy and Raw dog, they later go to bed tangled in each other's limbs

"Sweet dreams, boys."

#flames in the ashes #oc #norman reedus #smut #my fanfiction #my fanfic

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