#the little ending part in the basement makes me teary eyed | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

grabyourpillow · 2 years

Text

Just saying

I mean both Dream and Hob have me going insane for obvious reasons because 600 years of dates with a stranger and flirting and yadda yadda we've been over this. But I am going equally insane over Dream and Calliope like. The forehead touch????? The Aknowledgement of Growth? The lingering tenderness??

Like obviously, Calliope needs time to heal. A lot of time. Which good cause that's what they all have plenty of. And Morpheus needs time to grow.

If there's one thing Hob is pretty good at — besides the pipe organ and claquettes — it's reading people. So he manages to push reluctant Morpheus to Orpheus's grave and to get Calliope there at the same time (he did so by sending Matthew to tell her Dream is finally ready go talk).

And he just leaves them there as they stand in awkward silence in front of the grave.

Eventually Calliope raises her head. "You wanted to talk?"

And they do. There are a lot of tears. Years of old resentments and bottled up guilt and grief spill out. In the end, though, they are nothing more than crumpled newspapers, burning in a fire place. Maybe they have forgiven each other some time ago.

In the beginning Calliope is weary of Hob – who now wanders freely about the Castle, the Library especially, under the watchful yet kind gaze of Lucienne — Hob Gadling, a man, just like the one that kept her locked up all these years, just like Roderick Burgess who kept Dream in his basement.

Hob seems warm, and it prickles under her skin and makes her uncomfortable, for warmth, for the last hundred years, has been nothing but a tool for humans to get what they wanted out of her.

Oneiros is glacier ice and frozen water from Mount Olympus, the absolute zero of the universe and he expects nothing.

"χαῖρε Hob Gadling, farewell," she tells the man everytime nonetheless, and disappears before he can even open his mouth to speak.

Hob starts to write. Because his heart is warm, and he holds so much love he needs to put it somewhere lest it threatens to burst out of him and swallow him whole. He wants to do a little something for his students. Most are like he is, still wandering about, some without the same joy he has. He wants to give Morpheus a gift.

He writes and writes but the right words just won't come, clumsy blotches of ink under his feather (nothing has yet to replace the scrapy feel of the tip of feather on paper). What he is writing about is bigger than what his words can express.

When Calliope visits The Dreaming, she takes Morpheus's arm, a gesture of intimacy and trust, and Morpheus inclines his head in aknowledgement and seems nothing but grateful for it. Even from afar, they look regal, a king and a queen wandering about, taking long walks through parts of the Dreaming Hob can only, well, dream about.

Hob watches them as Morpheus bids his goodbyes, kneeling, and softly kissing her hand, reverend. For, once Morpheus has started loving, he never stops.

He usually comes back from these encounters teary-eyed, but light(er)-hearted.

Morpheus kisses Hob in the throne room.

Under the scattering light of the stained glass windows, he tilts Hob's head upwards as Hob stands a step beneath him, as they can never be equals, but Morpheus, Oneiros, Dream of the Endless and King of Dreams loves him nonetheless and Hob explodes in colors under the weight of that love. Morpheus kisses him and kisses him until Hob gets dizzy and drops to his knees.

Morpheus looks upon him through half-lidded eyes. Distant, but not unkindly. Above, yet not judging. Not unlike a God standing as an elevated statue in a stone altar in front of a worshipper.

Slowly, Dream removes his cape, the smooth, dark, velvety fabric of the universe gliding across Morpheus's moonlight shoulders. His other clothes are gone in the same swift, movement, and he stands in front of Hob, bare, his unfathomably deep vastness barely held together by the shape of his physical form.

Hob leans his head against Morpheus's thigh, and presses a light kiss there. He rises slightly and presses a kiss on Morpheus stomach.

Gods need worshippers because they are lonely. But it never really helps, does it. So Hob Gadling can not be a worshipper only. He arrives at Morpheus' clavicle. He kisses Morpheus's jaw, as his friend stands there, unmoving. Then, finally, Hob stares Dream of the Endless in the eyes, and he dares.

Hob continues to write. He tries to write of colors, of light and dark, of a cold press of lips and sinewy skin, and of the warmth in his belly. Most of the words are botched, and ugly. Some things are missing, things he doesn't dare write about. Because they're scary. Because they're silly.

"May the muses bless my writing this time," he thinks tiredly.

Only the silence answers.

___

The next time Calliope is in front of him, she looks at him with assessing eyes. "You have a question, Hob Gadling."

Hob shifts awkwardly, and scratches his cheek. "I didn't know if, I didn't want—"

"One is always allowed to ask."

"Okay. Well I'm trying to write, you see, and" he laughs, "I have read, many, ohh so many many great things. I want the piece I write" — for him —"to be beautiful, too." He wants it to be perfect. He raises her eyes at her. "Can you help me?"

She gauges him briefly, and Hob is a pond in a glass container. Springy fish play hide and seek between green aquatic plants, rustling in clear waters. There are glistening stones on his shore, that children from there bordering fishermen's town are happy to play ricochet with. Hob is the town, from which laughter and music and dancing is coming from as well.

The thumping from the villager's feet gets louder, and louder, too loud, and Hob realizes, it's the beating of his heart. The villagers's steps are trampling the skulls of the corpses buried deep, so deep under the ground one could almost pretend they were never there. The plants draw their roots in murky waters, fed by the detaching particles of silently decomposing corpses. But the dead are wailing, and refuse to be forgotten. Calliope sees all of him, and Hob gasps when she stops looking.

"Answer is no," she states, then disappears.

Hob sighs and picks up his feather.

___

"I do not understand." Calliope tells Morpheus one time. "He is just like the others."

"He is," Morpheus replies. "They are, all, human."

"What is it he has that holds so much value to you?"

Morpheus considers it. He is silent for a long time. "Time," he answers eventually. "And will. To learn."

Calliope observes the answer in her mind. Humans are like double faced coins. No, like a dôdekáedros, not with two, but with twelve, with thousand faces. Maybe the good ones outnumber the bad, for most.

She nods.

She catches Hob writing one time. She waits until he leaves the small wooden desk he has been hunched on for hours, at the warm light of an outdated desk lamp, and can't resist picking up the parchment.

She bursts into laughter, and when Hob comes back and leans against the doorframe, for the first time she looks at him. Really, looks at him.

"This is not very good."

"No," Hob concedes. He does not look offended, simply amused by her own laughter. It had been a long time. "It isn't."

There is a pause, a comfortable one.

"Ask me again," Calliope commands, before she can think about it.

"Uhm," Hob startles, searching her face. She maintains her will, eyes blazing like gemstones.

"Okay," he inhales. "Can you help me?"

"I..." Her chest tightens. It hurts. Still. She hates what Richard Murdock has taken from her. The ability to trust. The ability to give.

"No," she answers, and turns away.

___

Hob goes a long, long time without hearing from her. He hasn't given up on his little project, but the muses have told him no, so he does not ask again.

Hob knows Morpheus sees her though. He reads to Hob stories in Greek more often than not.

___

One day, Hob finds a little note, written in clear letters, a cursive with the reader in mind.

"I enjoy Oneiros's taste, but I do find even his lacking in some areas. You may find hereafter—

It is a note with precommendations. Songs, books, plays, and much, much more.

Sad ones, hopeful ones.

The note ends on,

"Writing requires a great offering.

It requires Truth.

Be honest, Hob Gadling."

___

Hob writes as in a frenzy. He writes anything and everything going through his mind. He writes down his dreams. He writes different endings to his favorite books where everything ends up alright. Painful stories his students have told him. Stories that make no sense at all. When he reads them, he sounds like an overly excited child, and it makes him happy. He is having so much fun.

"You are smiling," Morpheus remarks. He is sprawled lazily in the bed of Hobs tiny Bedroom, only his hair sticking out from the mass of blankets and he has no idea how this makes Hob's heart leap in his chest.

It definitely means "What are you writing?"

Hob knows his stories do not show up in the Library of the Dreaming, Lucienne told him so. Hob lays down his pen and smiles.

"I don't know yet."

___

Hob's home is now as much in the Dreaming as it is in the real world. He has become accustomed to small creatures flying in through the windows, and strange happenings.

Still, when Calliope hums appreciatively from behind him, Hob almost jumps out if his skin. The first time.

Then, it her appearances happen so often he becomes accustomed to it.

Sometimes, her eyes will look like murderous lightning spears, and nothing Hob writes works no matter how hard he tries.

After a three-day-long struggle where she refused to talk to him, he regretfully strikes out entire paragraphs, and starts anew. She smiles at him in approval.

She still can't help him, not really.

But humans have always been able to create on their own.

___

"I liked this one very much," Hob tells Calliope, pointing to a title on the list she has given her.

They are in Napoli, for a work visit supposedly. Hob has a meeting with a wine producer for the his tavern, pub, guesthouse, café, – he really isn't sure, despite being the owne.

Right now, they are seated on the balcony of the AirBnB Hob has rented, and though the owner had seemed surprised to see three people turn up instead of one, he had graciously accepted the change.

And that is how, Hob Gadling finds himself on the balcony, enjoying the warm summer evening, the sun sinking over the vast yet still clear evening sky, and the row of vignes and olive trees on the sandy soils of rocky mountains, and most of all, the company of his wonderful, wonderful friends, Morpheus and Calliope.

The wine makes them lively, and Hob lets himself be drawn in a literary debate with the Muse of Creation he knows he has no chance of winning, while Dream listens intently, for he was never much of a talker.

Hob manages to slip in that Shakespeare was never that good anyway and watched in satisfaction as a horrified expression crosses Calliope's Features, while an amused smile tugs at Dream's lips.

Later, Calliope tells them of her travels through the worlds, uniting her sisters in assemblies, gathering knowledge and experiences to change the unjust laws by which one like her can be bound like property.

Hob and Dream are utterly silent as she talks.

Only the flicker of a candle flame lights their faces when she finishes talking, fierce and angry, and hopeful, and herself.

Hob looks up at her in admiration, as she stands there, blazing with creation, and she looks at him. Morpheus fades into the surrounding darkness, leaving space for the story to unfold.

Calliope pulls Hob Gadling up, plants a brief kiss on his lips — her gift, freely given, finally hers again — and hauls him to the tiny wooden desk on the room, and seats him, his hand next to his favorite fountain pen.

"Pick it up," she orders.

"And now, γρᾰ́φου. Write."

Hob Gadling does.

___

Hob writes the story of a little girl called Naïma who loses the ability to dream.

***

Naïma is 12 years old and 4'2 and has impossibly big dreams like building an airplane that looks like Leonardo Da Vinci's so she can fly, and teaching her sister how to fight with a wooden sword, as she chases the yelling kid around to do just that. Naïma reads a lot of books that feed her colorful imagination, and every night, she has the most vivid dreams, filled with the flutter of bird wings, the scent of flowers after the rain, and magical creatures fighting epic battles.

You're a good girl, Naïma's parents and teachers tell her. Naïma and her friends write stories — that weirdly resemble the latest movie that is all the rage among the kids their age —and it's so easy and their characters are wild and free and flawed and perfect and the stories just pour out of them. Naïma is inspired, and the Muse smiles.

They read each others' stories in awe and they already dream of the day they will get their books published.

Naïma is 16 years old and has big dreams, but she also has a path to walk. Surely if she follows the steps, she will reach the sky and be able to fly with the birds.

Naïma is 18 years old and 5'0 and is so little and in a world that is too wide, and so many voices talk over each other that she forgets the sound of her own. The paths mingle and suddenly she has no idea where to go. She picks one at random.

Her teachers tell her she is clever. She feels like she knows nothing. Along the way, the dreams get lesser and lesser, and the walls on either side of the path get higher and higher, more inescapable.

Naïma writes a poem about rain. "The world is bright," she writes "And I am grey."

Naïma is in her twenties when she loses the ability to dream.

Speaking of walls, there is one behind her called Time, who keeps pushing her forward, not allowing her to slow down and look back. Without dreams, every day is the same, and the rest of her life stretches before her in a bleak, empty nothing. She lays in her bed staring at the starless ceiling, thinking "is this really all there is?" And "If it is so, doesn't Death seem kinder than life?"

***

Hob briefly sets the pen down, his hand trembling. He goes to the kitchen and makes himself a cup of tea. He breathes out, taking in the cool air of the night. Dream is sleeping in Hob's – their — bed, or something close to sleep, as far as Hob can tell.

Calliope is nowhere to be seen, but Hob feels this unrest, this trepidation in his fingers and push to keep going, the need to empty his mind and spill all his thoughts onto the page lest he is driven insane. He sets his cup down onto the desk — his hand now more or less steady —, and grabs the pen once again.

***

Death stands before Naïma, maybe in a dream, maybe not, and smiles upon her kindly. She seems fair and just, exactly like Naïma had pictured. The shadow of her wings grows and stretches until it is all encompassing behind her, eclipsing the sun.

"Do you want to go?" Death asks, and her voice is kind, but it is absolute.

Naïma hesitates, shifts on her feet. But this is weird. "I didn't think we had a choice in the matter?"

"Well, it's not your time yet. So you do."

Naïma lowers her eyes. "I..." Death gauges her carefully. "I don't know."

Death gives her a minute, but Naïma doesn't come up with another answer.

Death smiles, as if Naïma had somehow come up with the right answer and her wings are gone and the sun is visible again, and she takes Naïma's hand. "I need to show you something."

A flutter of wings and they are in a dark room, no, not not room. Space. For there are no borders. No floor Naïma is walking on. No walls. In the center of the space, are square, vertical panes, each the size of maybe four records, set up vertically next to each other, forming a a circle. A circle of these glass slices, floating. As Naïma gets closer, she can discern shifting patterns of colorful smoke inside of each square, pinks and blues and aquamarines.

"Pick one," Death tells her. Naïma looks at her, uncertain, but Death just signals her to go ahead.

So Naïma extends her hand, slowly approaches her fingers and, as they come in contact with it... colors explode everywhere, and the space expands and she finds herself in a nebula of holographic colors and glistening stars.

"Whoah," is all she can say. "What is that?"

"He, is called Laurent." Death introduces him "She spreads two of her finger and zooms in on a spot of the nebula, as one would navigate a touch screen. "This is his love for gardening. This here?" A particularly bright star. "His favorite meal. This?" She points to a black hole. "His mother's death." Next to the black hole is a ring of light. "He rekindled with his sister and met his niece. She remained the joy of his life, for the entire duration of it.

"These," Death double taps the nebula, and it folds in on itself as if sucked into a vacuum, back into is original square shape and place among the others. "These are all the people that have lived. Are living."

Death presses on one and once again, colors spread across the room. "This is the one of a man called Hob Gadling."

Where the other had had one or two dominant hues, this one had all the colors of the rainbow. It also had darker—

***

"Writing about yourself? Slightly pretentious."

"Jesus Christ," Hob jumps. Maybe not that accustomed to Calliope sneaking up in him after all. "You scared me. Could you, could you not look? This time? It's" He scratches this cheek and chuckles. "Embarrassing."

"I will know it all the same," Calliope answers.

"Is all of this yours?" Hob deflates. "Do you know everything I'm going to write?"

"It is as much yours as it is mine," Calliope answers. "And I cannot know until it is written.

Keep going, Hob."

***

This, glass panel had all the colors of the rainbow— more colored than any of the panels Naïma could see. Some of the colors were uglier. Less harmonious. Some were darker.

Death swipes the color palette away and Naïma stiftles a cry, as she could have kept looking for an eternity, but Death is already opening another.

"Now this one, my sweet, sweet girl, this one is yours."

Naïma flinches, and turns her head away. Death waits, patient, encouraging.

Naïma forces herself to look.

And, of course.

Her color palette is... unremarkable. Unfinished.

There are tiny specks of color, that look like nothing much really. It could have been pretty, once, but the rest of the painting distracts because... "There is absolutely nothing here," Naïma gestures, and she cannnot hide the disappointment. Compared to the other ones, this one was... Not enough. Her life was no good.

"It's empty." This was same black she saw every night in the corner of her eyelids when she pictured the future. She didn't need to be reminded of that.

Death shakes her head. "It's not," and she punctuates the word, "empty, silly." She flicks Naïma's forehead. "Quite, the contrary actually. It's full. With potentialities. Endless potentialities. Who knows which color you are going to put on there tomorrow?"

And Death gives her a minute to let that sink in.

"I'm going to ask you again, Naïma Goldenberg. It is not your time. Do you still want to go?"

"No," Naïma shakes her head. "No I don't think I want to."

Death smiles. And behind her, someone else, a man with pale skin, huddled in a dark cape, smiles as well.

***

Dream stirs slightly. He seems content. A good dream, hopefully.

***

Naïma wakes up to her dark ceiling. She pastes glow stars on it and turns on her bedside lamp, and suddenly it's not so dark anymore.

She can't dream but she realizes, she can read. She grabs the first book on her shelf, and suddenly Naïma is twelve again.

A year goes by. Naïma hasn't found her dreams but she keeps searching. She reads books that make her feel like she's dreaming and fill her waking life, listens to stories that people are eager to tell her. She fills her life with the dreams of others, and even tries some of them out, like slipping on a different gowns. Today she is Naïma the rock climber, nature conqueror who sleeps in a tent – she gets a cold, and finds slugs in her clothes. Yesterday she was Naïma the fancy, mingling with some high-society people, laughing along with them in her glistening champagne and feeling like this dream didn't fit her at all. The day before that? She had been Naïma the poet, reading books in a warm-hued Café enjoying a scone and a cappuccino, while occasionally gazing at the raindrops splattering on the window and on the pavement outside.

She learns more about herself. Or re-learns really. She learns that she loves rain and books, that she likes rock-climbing occasionally, and with friends, and that she really hates sparkling events where people talk too loud. That she really likes listening to stories. She likes writing stories too.

Naïma is thirty when she falls in love with a girl called Ζωή that is completely wild and colorful. Zoé loves with all her heart and crashes deeper and flies higher and takes Naïma with her.

***

Hob writes of music. He writes of laughter, he writes of pain, he writes of joy. He writes of a desire to do better.

***

"Goldenberg." A voice she has known forever, a voice she had missed, calls to her.

And finally, Naïma dreams.

She dreams of which songs, which plays, which adventures Zoé will show her tomorrow. She dreams of magic. She dreams of writing a book.

***

Hob writes and there is space between the lines of his love that needs to be filled.

Until the morning hours, Hob writes alongside Naïma. He fills the path she takes with new Dreams, new Stories, and that is how she paves her way until she meets Death again, in due time. (Not everyone can be like Hob, not even his characters).

For Dreams, Stories, and Art, Hob has found, is what makes it worthwhile everyday, to live for another.

That, alongside the smell of freshly baked bread, wine that is warm on the tongue, and the smile of a friend.

Smile, his friends do, when months later, he hands each of them a copy of the finished book he has bound himself.

Some threads hang loose from the cover and he is pretty sure that — despite his best efforts — some spelling mistakes are left in, and it is far from perfect, but it's done, and it's his.

"It has been a long time since anyone wrote a song for me," Calliope speaks, eyes glistening.

"The Library, will be honored."

Thank you, Hob Gadling, they both tell him.

The book is called "Ζωή."

The book is called Life.

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johnsbleu · 3 years

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Hold My Hand: John Wick x Reader Chapter 120

warnings: none! hmh masterlist A/N: I’m sorry about my tagging lately. I don’t know what’s going on with it. Tumblr is being wack, of course. So, I’m sorry if you’re not being tagged or if you’re getting the notification weeks later. It’s just tumblr being tumblr, i guess.

It’s a beautiful day today, and you’re sitting in a lawn chair and watching John as he trims the hedges around the patio. John bought some new plants to compliment the gorgeous tulips, and he also got some new mulch for the garden. You were helping him plant some flowers in pots, but you stopped to take a little break since your back hurts.

The yard has always been gorgeous and well tended to, but since you’ve moved in, John has dismissed the lawn company. He always said he didn’t have the time and energy to do the yard work himself since he was usually helping Helen when she was sick, and when he moved back home after everything happened, he hired them again. Now that you live here and love working in the yard, he’s dismissed them again. The yard is large and would take forever to mow, but you surprised John with a riding lawn mower earlier this month, and you love to make fun of him when you see him riding around the yard on it.

“It’s so beautiful today,” you say, tilting your head back in the sun, then you look at John as he nods his head. You smile when you see a little bit of dirt on his forehead from where he’s tried to wipe away the sweat, and you get up to walk over to him. You kneel down and use your thumb to wipe away the dirt, then you smile at him, “I’ll go get you something to drink.”

John smiles, “Thanks, peach.”

You stand up to walk inside, then you look back at John as he digs a hole for the next plant. You open the door and head to the kitchen to pour some water into a cup for John, and you wince a little when you feel a pain in your stomach. Pushing it aside, you head back outside to John, then you sit down and take a sip of his water before you hand it to him.

“You okay?” he asks as he sits down next to you, and you nod. “Are you sure?”

“Just had a little pain in my stomach,” you say, then you look up at John, “I’m okay.”

John looks at you in concern, “Do we need to go to the hospital? We can go right now.”

“It was just a cramp, baby. Probably just some gas or something. I’m okay.” you reach over and cup his face in your hands, then you kiss him, “I love my protective husband.”

“I love my wife.” he whispers, then he leans over to kiss you again, “If we need to go to the hospital, just let me know.”

You nod your head as you sit back in your chair, then you take the water from John and drink the rest. You place your hand on your belly and smile when John leans down to kiss it, then you watch as he walks back over to finish planting the rest of the flowers.

Closing your eyes, you tilt your head back in the sun and smile to yourself. You’re so happy that the weather has been so nice lately, and there hasn’t been a day this week where you haven’t spent most of it outside.

John looks over his shoulder when he hears a car coming up the driveway, then he stands up, “That’s Jerry -- the guy to fix the pool.”

“We’re swimming tonight.” you say, and John nods as he walks over to greet Jerry. You put your hand up to block the sun as they walk past, then you smile when John winks at you.

Groaning a little, you get up from the chair and walk through the house to the backyard, and you smile when you see John standing near the pool as he talks with Jerry. You smile as you lean over the railing on the patio and look at John, then you look around the backyard, taking in the gorgeous view of colorful flowers and even John’s sweet little garden that he’s so proud of.

“I would say you can probably swim by tonight. Should be good by 5, just gotta let it cycle for a few hours.” Jerry says, and John looks over at you and smiles. “I can leave you a little test kit so you can test the water.”

“So, is the filter just broken or something? We use this pool all year round, but we only noticed how green it had gotten last week.” John says, letting out a small laugh, “My wife wanted to swim the other night, and we came out to find it like this.”

Jerry nods, “Every now and again, parts break on these things.”

“Well, good thing there’s guys like you around to fix it,” you say, and Jerry lets out a small laugh.

“Sorry it took us so long to get out here. Busy time of the year.” Jerry says, then he excuses himself so he can get his tools from his truck.

John walks over to you with his hands in his pockets, then he stands in front of you and smiles when you lean over the railing to kiss him several times. He takes his hands out of his pockets to pull himself up closer to you, and you laugh against his lips when he crawls over the railing to hug you.

“The stairs are right there.”

“I was being romantic, peach.” he laughs, then he smothers your face with kisses. “Mm, mm, mm!”

You lean back and smile at John, “You’re laying it on thick today.”

“I always do.”

“Yeah, true.” you laugh as you hug him, then you look over his shoulder when Jerry comes back into the backyard. “I think I’m gonna go lay down for a bit.”

John nods as he rubs your back, “If you feel that pain again, let me know. I’ll rush up to get you and we can leave.”

“I will, dad.” you smile as he laughs, then you lean up to kiss him before you walk over to the door.

“Hey,” John calls out and you look over your shoulder at him, “I love you more than anything.”

You let out a small laugh as you look at him smiling proudly since he really is being over the top affectionate today, “I love you too.”

Mill Neck always has great festivals every season, and you’re super excited to be able to actually go to the summer festival this year. The town square is packed with craft booths and food trucks, and John is practically eating everything in sight. He smiles as he walks over to you with a gyro, then he holds it up so you can take a bite.

“My goodness, look at you!” your mom smiles as she walks over, then she pushes past you and reaches out to hug John as you laugh, “So handsome!”

You playfully roll your eyes when your mom looks at you, “Sure, I’m just lugging around a baby, but let’s all comment on how handsome John is.”

“I’m teasing! You look beautiful, sweetheart.” your mom smiles, then she kisses your cheek, “I see John is already eating his way through the festival.”

John nods with his mouth full, then he hands his lemonade to you, which you decline since it’ll give you heartburn, “I’ve been working in the yard all morning. Worked up an appetite.”

“We got the yard all done, so we’re ready for our pool party tonight!” you smile as you look over your mom’s shoulder at Jimmy and Tess, then you lean down and lift up Finn, kissing his cheek over and over as he giggles, “Oh, got a little ketchup with that one.”

Tess holds up the last of her corndog for Finn, and he leans over so she can hold him, “We still on for our pool party?”

“Of course.” John nods, then he cracks up a bottle of water, “Gonna eat my weight in festival food first though.”

You laugh as you look at him, “I sure would love some mini donuts.”

“Then I’ll go get you some.” John smiles, handing the bottle of water to you before he walks away with Jimmy and your dad.

“How’s he holdin’ up?” your mom asks, and you laugh. “Still feeling nervous?”

You nod, “We both are. It’s getting so much closer, and we’re really starting to realize that it won’t just be us anymore. I had a little bit of a cry about it last night if I’m being honest -- still feel a little sad actually.”

“Why’s that?”

Shrugging your shoulders, you walk with your mom through the festival, “John and I have only been together for almost two years, so I think there’s this part of me that just feels like…I don’t know, I feel like it’s stupid, so I don’t want to say it.”

“I always taught you to talk about your feelings, didn’t I?” she says, and you nod your head. “So, talk about them.”

“There’s this part of me that worries that once the baby is here, John will just want to me fuck off or something.” you admit, then you let out a small laugh, “I know how stupid it sounds, trust me, but it’s just the way I’m feeling.”

Your mom wraps her arm around your shoulder and smiles at you, “It’s your feelings, so they’re not stupid.”

“I never realized how selfish I am when it comes to John until now. I don’t want to share him with anyone else. Of course I’m beyond excited to see him as a dad, and I’d never regret having this baby. I already love her to bits, and I’d do anything in this world for her. I just…don’t want John to stop caring about me. I don’t want to lose my best friend.” you look down as you grow sad, but you hear John’s laugh and it causes you to look up at him tossing Finn in the air. A smile spreads across your face when you see John kissing Finn’s cheek, and you give him a small wave when he looks over at you.

“I don’t think you’re selfish, sweetheart. It’ll be a change, it always is when you bring a new member into the house, but…” your mom looks over at John, then she looks back at you with tears in her eyes as you laugh, “I don’t think you ever need to worry about that man not caring about you. I know I’ve told you time and time again, but he is absolutely crazy about you. He still tells me how lucky he is to have you. Hell, he just told me the other night how happy he is to have found you. He just says these things, mind you. He’ll just randomly mention how lucky he is.”

You laugh as you wipe away the tear on your cheek, “He’s corny.”

“He’s in love.” your mom says, reaching over to cup your face, “And I think having this baby is only making him fall even harder for you.”

You smile as you continue walking with your mom, and you watch John as he playfully runs away from Finn chasing him. You look over your shoulder as he runs past, then you laugh when you hear him sneaking up behind you.

“I probably shouldn’t scare you,” he laughs, wrapping his arms around your waist, “Might accidentally push the baby out if I do.”

You laugh as you tilt your head back to look at him, “I’m not that far along.”

“You okay? I saw you talking to your mom.” he whispers in your ear, then he kisses your temple, “I’m always here if you need someone to talk to, though I’m sure you don’t always want to just talk to your husband.”

Tilting your head back, you smile at him, “You’re not just my husband, babe. You’re my best friend.”

The two of you start to laugh loudly since it was fairly corny, and you playfully shove John’s shoulder. His corniness is really rubbing off on you and he knows it.

“It’s true!” you laugh when he walks back over to you and reaches for your hand. “You are my best friend, you know?”

“You’re mine.” he smiles, pressing a kiss to the back of your hand. “You’re okay?”

You nod as you look up at John, “I am, just being a silly pregnant woman!”

“Well,” John laughs as he nods, then he smiles at you, “I love you.”

“I love you.” you smile, tilting your head back to get another kiss from him.

After the festival, there’s going to be fireworks, but since that isn’t happening until dusk, you’re having a little pool party with your family. The front lawn will have a perfect view of the fireworks since they’re set off right across the lake, so you’re all just hanging around until then.

Finn is wading around the pool in a little floatie with Jimmy and Tess, and your mom and dad are sitting on the patio furniture watching everyone and chatting.

John is sitting on the edge of the pool with his feet in the water, and you place your hand on his shoulder to help as you sit down next to him. He looks over at you and smiles when he sees you wearing a black swimsuit, and you immediately rest back on your hands when he leans over to kiss your bump.

“Just obsessed.” you laugh, and John nods his head. “I get it. I am too.”

John laughs, then he hops in the pool and stands between your legs, leaning closer to your belly so he can kiss it, “Hey, bug. I hope you’re okay in there.”

“I think she’s pretty good! She ate some good food today, and she’s going to have an amazing smoothie in a bit.” you say, cocking up your eyebrow as John laughs. “I mean, you’ve made them for months now, you can’t just stop.”

“Very true.” John says, then he flinches and puts his hands up when water is splashed at him. He turns around and smiles when Finn giggles and kicks his legs, and John disappears under the water so he can pop out and scare Finn.

You smile when Finn squeals loudly and kicks his legs, and you slip into the pool to help take some pressure off your spine. You float on your back as you look up at the sky to see a few clouds still lingering, then you smile when you feel John putting his arms under you so he can hold you.

“How’s your back?”

“Doesn’t hurt so much right now since I’m in the pool, but I wouldn’t push you away if you wanted to help hold my belly later.”

John nods as he sways you back and forth in the water, “Of course.”

You tilt your head back to get your hair wet, then you look up at John and laugh when you see him staring at your boobs, “My boobs are really popping today.”

“I sure don’t mind,” he laughs, then he leans down to kiss you before walking around the pool with you in his arms.

Laughter is filling the backyard as Jimmy and Tess splash one another, and you smile when you look over at your dad holding your mom’s hand and talking to John. You look up at John for a moment before you get down so you can swim with Finn, then you look over at John again as he leans over the side of the pool to continue talking to your parents.

Your heart always bursts with happiness when you see how well John gets along with your parents. It’s really sweet how John cares about them. Of course he cares about you, but he genuinely just loves your family as well and you know how much it means to him that they’ve really accepted him. The fact that he feels comfortable enough to take his shirt off and allow people to see his scars is huge, and it means a lot to you that no one even bats an eye. They all just love him.

John was always worried that your dad wouldn’t like him since usually dads are so tough on their son-in-laws, but Dan loves John and Jimmy, and they all hang out quite a bit. They have cute little golf days, and you always tease John -- lovingly -- about his two best friends.

Dan has thrown his back out recently since he’s getting older, and John has been going over every couple days to help out around their house. Your mom won’t allow anyone to touch the garden, but she hates mowing, so John and Jimmy have been taking turns doing it so far. On top of John just liking your parents, you know there’s a little part of him that thinks of them as his own parents, which you absolutely love since you know your parents love him. He really just wants to take care of them, and it melts your heart.

“Hey,” John smiles as he swims back over to you, “I think I’m gonna get out soon. Start some smoothies for everyone. Wanna join?”

You nod your head as you smile, then you make sure Finn is back with Jimmy before you get out of the pool. Reaching up for John’s hand, you smile at him and take the towel he’s offering you and laugh when you wrap it around yourself.

“I think I need a bigger towel.” you laugh, looking at the towel just barely wrapped around your body.

“Sweetheart,” your mom furrows her brow and leans closer, “You have something on your left side…”

You scrunch your eyebrows and look at your legs and stomach, then you look at your mom when she gestures to your chest.

“Oh!” you turn to the side and move your arm, “I got it last year. It’s a ‘J’ for John! I know, I know, a tattoo is permanent.”

“I wasn’t going to say that.” your mom smiles, then she gestures to John, “John needs to get something for you now!”

John laughs, “I’m planning on it. We said we’d get something after the baby is born. I already have an idea for what I want for my peach though.”

“My face. Just right across his chest.” you say, placing your hand on John’s chest, “Maybe a couple face tattoos as well.”

John scoffs and playfully rolls his eyes, “Yeah, right.”

You give John a little wink as you look at him, then you laugh as you look at your mom before heading to the house. John holds your hand to help you get up the steps so you don’t slip, then he holds the door open for you. You smile at John when you look over at him, then you bite your lip and blush when he looks at you.

“Mrs. Wick, are you checking me out?”

“Why, yes I am!” you smile proudly, then you walk with him upstairs, “You look so…fit lately.”

John scoffs, “Hardly. I’ve been stuffing my face all week.”

You smirk as you look at him, then you playfully shrug, “You certainly have.”

“And I like it that way,” he smiles, leaning over to kiss you. “Might have to have a little peach tonight.”

“Absolutely.” you smile as you walk over to your closet, then you quickly change into some clean clothes. You head into the bathroom and tie your hair up for now since you’ll shower later before bed, then you smile at John when he stands next to you to fix his shirt.

John stands behind you and places his hands on your stomach, then he looks at you through the mirror, “Ready?”

“Yup!”

You lean back against John’s chest and watch as he positions his hands under your belly, then he gently lifts your stomach up to help relieve some pressure on your spine and pelvis. You lean your head against his chest and close your eyes as a smile spreads across your face, and you feel John pressing a kiss to your head.

“Does that feel good?” he asks, and you nod your head. “Let me know when you’re ready for me to let go.”

“Definitely not yet.” you laugh, and John chuckles softly. You open your eyes to look at John through the mirror, then you laugh tearfully, “How the fuck did I get so lucky?”

John kisses your cheek before he looks at you, “How did I?”

After a few moments of holding your gaze, John kisses your cheek again, then he gently lowers your belly back down. You exhale when you move from in front of John, and you turn around to hug him.

“You have no idea how much relief that gives me.”

“Just here to help.” he whispers, then he reaches for your hand when you start to walk away, “Are you okay?”

You take a deep breath and nod, “Just--”

“Being a silly pregnant woman,” he says, cocking up his eyebrow, “You already tried that on me earlier.”

“Nothing gets past you, Wick.”

John lets out a small laugh, “Just let me know what I can do.”

“We’ll talk later. We always do.”

“You’re not mad at me, are you?”

You walk over to John and cup his face, “Of course not!”

John leans down to kiss you several times, then he takes your hand and walks with you back downstairs. He walks over to the fridge to get out everything he’ll need for smoothies, and you grab a few extra towels for Jimmy and Tess. You hand one over to Jimmy as he walks into the house, then he puts his shoes on.

“I gotta get Finn’s headphones for the fireworks. I’ll be back.” he says, then he stops when he sees John with the blender, “You makin’ smoothies for everyone?”

John laughs as he nods, “Yeah.”

“Hell yeah!” Jimmy pumps his fist, then he quickly leaves the house.

You laugh as you look over at John, “My husband, the smoothie maker.”

“How the hell does one fall asleep during fireworks?” John laughs as he stands next to the bed and lifts up the blankets to get in, then he sits down, “I know he’s a baby, but that was amazing.”

You smile as you lean against the wall, “It was so cute seeing him crawl over to you and just falling asleep in your lap. Made my heart melt.”

“He’s a cute kid.” John says, and you nod before you start to brush your teeth.

You mumble with your toothbrush in your mouth as John raises his eyebrows and laughs, then you roll your eyes and put your finger up before you walk into the bathroom to spit out the toothpaste. You wipe your mouth off and pull your wet hair up into a bun, then you head back into the bedroom.

“I said that he always looks so cute when he scrunches up his nose when he laughs like Tess.” you say as you walk over to the bed, “Tess always scrunches up her nose when she talks and laughs, and I think it’s cute that Finn does it. He looks so much like Jimmy sometimes, so I love when I see Tess in him.”

“I see Tess in him,” John says, and you look over at him, “When he’s bawling his brains out or when he’s being naughty.”

You playfully shove John’s shoulder, “Be nice.”

“I’m kidding, of course. Finn’s a great kid.” John inhales deeply and looks over at you as you get yourself comfortable by stuffing pillows around you to support your belly, and he smiles when you look up at him, “You comfortable?”

“I am,” you laugh as you nod, “For once. I just wanna crash.”

John smiles as he leans down to kiss you several times, then he holds your gaze, “I love you.”

“I love you too.” you whisper to him, then you lean up to kiss him again before you close your eyes and wrap your right arm around his waist.

“I’m gonna watch some TV, okay?” he says, and you nod your head as your eyes slowly flutter shut.

It only started raining about 15 minutes ago, so you assume John will be home soon. He went over to your parents’ house to mow for them, but now that it’s raining he’ll probably be home soon.

You grab a blanket off the couch as you walk past, then you head to the back patio so you can enjoy the rain. You smile at Bleu when you walk past him, and he hops up and follows you outside. He plops down on the deck and lays near the loveseat, then he perks his head up when he hears the garage door opening.

“Oh, your dad is home.” you say, and Bleu gets up and whimpers as he looks through the patio door, his tail wagging faster when he hears the front door open. You look over your shoulder into the kitchen window and watch as John walks in, and you perk up when you see flowers in his hand.

John sets the flowers down on the counter and rubs his hand over his beard, then he furrows his brow and walks into the living room. You peek through the window and watch him walk past the kitchen, then he stands in the doorway and looks around. A flash a lightning lights up the house for a quick moment, and John immediately looks over at the kitchen window and smiles when you wave at him. He waves back at you as he walks out onto the patio, then he laughs and pets Bleu for a moment.

“Knew you’d be out here as soon as I saw the lightning. Scoot over, lemme hold you.” John smiles as he sits down next to you, then he wraps his arm around you to pull you closer, “Gimme a kiss.”

You laugh quietly as you lean up to kiss John, cupping his face in your hand, “I love how you always say ‘gimme a kiss’, it’s so cute.”

“Keep kissing me!” he says against your lips, and you laugh even harder, “I missed my peach.”

“You were gone for three hours.”

John leans back and nods, “I know, I didn’t think I’d be gone for so long.”

You scoff quietly, “Three hours is not a long time, John.”

“I think so,” he pouts as he leans down to kiss you again. “Way too long. Hate being away from you.”

A smile tugs at your lips as you look up at John, “Really?”

“Of course. I’d rather be with you than anyone else.” he pulls you closer to him and kisses the top of your head, “You’re my girl.”

You lean your head against John’s shoulder as you look out at the rain falling in the backyard, and you smile to yourself when John kisses the top of your head over and over. He inhales the smell of your shampoo as he leans his head against yours, then he rubs your arm to warm you up.

“How long have you been out here?”

“Literally 30 seconds before you got here.” you laugh, then you look up at him, “How’s dad doing?”

John nods, “Good. He told me that he wants to be able to mow his own lawn, so he did mow the front. Your mom cheered him on, it was sweet.”

“I’m sure it’s hard for him to just suddenly not be able to do things. He’s taken care of his own lawn and ours since my mom met him.” you say as you shrug, “I’m sure next year when you’re an old man, you’ll be the same.”

“Oh, don’t even start with old man jokes!” John laughs, then he holds your gaze when you cock up your eyebrow. He tickles your stomach as you laugh loudly, then he leans down and tickles the crook of your neck with his beard. “You think I’m old?”

You laugh as you grab John’s wrists and push his hands away to keep him from tickling you, “No! Of course not! You’re my hunky hot husband, who literally has not aged a day since I met him. Seriously! You look exactly the same! No grays in your beard or hair, no wrinkles. Tell me your secret!”

“Happiness,” he whispers, and you playfully gag as you cross your eyes. “It’s true, peach.”

The rain is still coming down as you sit in John’s arms, and there’s a strike of lightning that’s so bright it lights up the entire backyard. Thunder rumbles a few moments later causing Bleu to sit by the door to be let inside.

“You want inside?” John asks, then he gets up and opens the door for Bleu before he sits back down. He groans a little as he sits back down, then he props his feet up on the table and looks over at you, “Can you believe it’s been a year since we were in Italy?”

“Oh my god,” you look over at him and gasp, “That’s true! One year ago, wow. One year since you scared the shit out of me. Twice, might I add!”

John lets out a small laugh, then he looks over at you, “I’m still so sorry about that. I can’t imagine how hard it must have been for you, seeing me like that.”

“Yeah,” you nod as you look at him, then you shrug, “I was just so worried about you. I finally met this amazing man who was everything I wanted, and I was scared I was going to lose him.”

“I wasn’t dying, peach.”

You roll your eyes playfully, “I know that, Wick. I think…there was always this part of me that thought after it happened, you’d get this…urge to go back to that life. Like maybe our life wasn’t enough since you got a taste of that other world again.”

John nods his head as he turns to face you, then he smiles and reaches for your hand, waiting for you to continue.

“But I think that night really changed it for me. I saw the way you looked at me when I saw you -- I saw your heart break.” you look over at him and shrug, “I think that was the moment I realized that you were truly ready to leave it all behind.”

“I’m still not even sure why I took the job there.” John admits, playing with your fingers, “Guess I just…thought it was what I was meant to do. At the beginning, it was really hard to turn off that switch, you know? But I think a lot changed for you and I after Italy. We finally decided on getting married that fall, you decided to come off your birth control, we wanted to start a family. I think Italy was exactly what we needed. Just the two of us away from all distractions. It was exactly what I needed as well because I realized that I just wanted to be with you. I didn’t care about that old life that I had.”

You smile softly as you look at him, “You don’t miss it?”

“Not at all.” John shakes his head as he looks out at the rain, “My life with you is so important and special to me, you know this. Putting myself at risk all the time isn’t worth it anymore.”

“It never was, Jonathan.”

John chuckles, “Agree to disagree. But I have a baby on the way with my favorite person in the world, a person who I couldn’t imagine my life without now, and I think that’s what is the most important thing now.”

You never got to have your conversation with John last night since you fell asleep and John has been gone for most of the day, so you figure you might as well have it now.

“You ready to talk now?” John asks, and you look up at him and smile. “Did I read your mind?”

“You always do,” you laugh, then you inhale deeply, “Obviously I’m beyond excited to start this new chapter with you, to be parents! I feel so lucky that I get to do it alongside you. We both have a lot of the same values, and I know we’ll both put her above anything.”

John reaches over and cups your face, “Just say what you’re feeling, mouse.”

You take a deep breath and sigh as you look at him, “I’m selfish because I still just want you to myself. It won’t be long now until we’ll have another person under the roof, and I feel so selfish because I’m going to miss the times when it was just us. I’m gonna miss having you to myself. We haven’t been together for that long, so it sucks that now I have to share you. I just want you to myself forever.”

“Do you really think I don’t feel that way too?” he asks, and you shrug as you nod. “I feel the exact same way. I love having you to myself, but I know I’m going to have to share you soon. I actually have been afraid to tell you about it, but I talked to Jimmy about it.”

“Really?”

John nods as he laughs, “Yeah, and he said he felt the same way too when they first had Finn. He said he felt a little jealous about not having time with just Tess, then he felt guilty about it because he thought that meant he didn’t love Finn, which we both know he absolutely does. Think about their relationship. They’ve never really had any time to just themselves since she got pregnant right after they got together.”

“That’s true, I shouldn’t complain.”

“Baby, that’s not what I’m saying,” John whispers, and you bite your cheek as you look up at him, “I feel the same way as you, and I know that she’s going to need you more than she needs me, that’s just a fact. I’ll miss when we could just do whatever we wanted, whenever we wanted, but I also don’t want a baby to hold us back from doing things. I want us to still go out and have fun, and that’s not something that should ever change just because we have a baby.”

You nod as you look at him, “We can have date nights.”

“Absolutely! Your mom wanted to be here so she could be near her daughters and her grandchildren, you know that she’d be more than happy to take the baby for us so we could have a date night. I absolutely love taking you out on dates and showering you with love, and I don’t plan on stopping.”

You shrug, “I just don’t want…ugh, never mind, it sounds so stupid.”

John smiles softly as you look at him, “You know that I am absolutely crazy about you. You are the most important person in my life, and you always will be. Every morning I wake up and think to myself how fucking lucky I am to have you. You know my past, you know what I’ve done, and when I told you, you didn’t bat an eye. Do you know how lucky I am to have that, to have someone truly accept me and love me?”

“I just love you a lot,” you laugh tearfully as you wipe away your tears, “I don’t want us to lose what we have.”

“You can’t lose something this special,” John smiles, and you lean up to kiss him, “I made a promise to you that I would do everything in my power to make you happy and to show you every day how important you are to me, and I don’t plan on breaking that promise. It’ll be different with a baby, but I’m still going to be just as crazy about you. I love you more than anything, I really do.”

“I love you too, Wick.”

John smiles as he kisses you, then he leans back and laughs, “Anyone would be crazy about you, and I’d be an idiot to not be in love with you. I would be a massive idiot to fuck up what we have as well, especially since this is something so rare. I’m always going to be crazy about you -- in fact, I’m even more crazy about you now.”

You cup John’s face as you lean up to kiss him, then you rest your forehead against his and close your eyes,”I’m sorry I’ve been so crazy.”

“You haven’t been.” John whispers against your forehead, “This is so new to us, of course we’re going to be having some different emotions and feelings about things. But what’s important is you coming to me so we can talk through it. I don’t want that to change.”

Letting out a small laugh, you lean back and smile at him, “How are you always so level-headed?”

“One of us has to be,” he jokes as you laugh, then he rubs his thumb over your cheek, “Is there anything else bothering you?”

You shake your head as you smile at him, “Nope.”

“Okay, well, if you think of something later on, don’t ever hesitate to talk to me. I’m your husband, it’s what I’m here for.”

“I love you,” you scoot closer to John, then you raise your eyebrows and smile at him, “I know you’ve purposefully avoided talking to Bug…”

John laughs, “I didn’t want you to think I don’t care about you, so I wanted to talk to you first and make sure that you were feeling better.”

“But now…”

John laughs as he pulls the blanket off of you and kisses your belly, “Now I gotta talk to our baby girl.”

You smile as you watch John whispering softly to your belly, and you rub his back as he leans down and kisses your stomach over and over.

“Is she sleeping? Usually she’s kicking when she-- never mind,” John laughs when he sees your stomach move, “There she is. Hi, baby.”

“She was stomping on my bladder earlier today for about 15 minutes when I was trying to lay down, so I never got to take a nap.”

John chuckles as he sits up, still keeping his hand on your stomach, “Well, how rude of her.”

“She’s probably kicking now because she’s hungry.” you say as a smile spreads across your face, and John lets out a small laugh. “I was waiting for you to get home so we could go get something.”

“What are you in the mood for?” John asks as he gets up and reaches for your hands, and you shrug and gesture to him, “Oh, you’re in the mood for me? Mrs. Wick…”

You laugh as you playfully shove his shoulder, “What are you in the mood for?”

“Well, now that I know you want me…” he teases, then he laughs as he leans down to kiss you, “I’m in the mood for anything. It’s up to you, peach.”

“I kind of want pancakes.” you say, and John nods, “But not your pancakes.”

John scoffs as he backs away, “Ouch!”

“I really want pancakes from the cafe, which is perfect because you can get a burger!”

“That does sound good.” John nods, then he wraps his arms around you and kisses you several times, “You don’t like my pancakes anymore?”

You laugh as you look at him, “I love your pancakes, but you gotta admit, the cafe makes amazing pancakes.”

“They do.” John nods, then he pecks you again before he walks over to the door to open it.

Wrapping the blanket around you, you walk into the kitchen and smile when you see the flowers on the counter, “What are these for?”

“Oh, I ran to the store and grabbed a few things for your parents and I saw these beautiful flowers, so I got them for you.” he says, and you smile at him as he leans down to get a vase under the sink. He fills it with water and starts to laugh when he realizes you’re just staring at him, “I bought your mom some flowers too, and I’ve bought you flowers before, this isn’t new.”

“I know!” you laugh as you walk over to help him put the flowers in the vase, “It’s just sweet.”

John wraps his left arm around your waist and kisses your forehead, “You’re very cute, you know that? Still get butterflies coming home to you.”

“Stop! You’re gonna make me cry again.” you laugh, then you huff when your eyes fill with tears.

“Best thing that’s ever happened to me.” John whispers as he moves closer, “Waking up next to you every morning is indescribable.”

You put your hands over his mouth and laugh, “Stop it, Wick! I’m already a mess! I’m gonna make you cry one of these days, though I’m not as romantic as you.”

“Yes, you are,” John laughs, and you roll your eyes as he wraps his arms around you and kisses your forehead, “I love you. If you ever feel like I’m slacking, just let me know.”

You scoff as you move out of John’s arms, “You slacking on being a good husband? Highly unlikely.”

“You’ll let me know?”

Looking back at John, you shake your head for a moment, then you nod, “Of course, but I know it won’t happen.”

“If it did, it certainly wouldn’t be intentional.” he says, and you smile at him.

You hold his gaze as you walk back over to him, and you reach for his hand and press a warm kiss to the palm of it. You place it on your cheek as you look up at him, then you close your eyes and smile, leaning into the warmth of his hand.

John shakes his head when you look at him, then he smiles, “You’re trying to get me to cry?”

“Maybe…” you say softly, then you laugh when John cups your face in his hands and kisses your forehead. You take his left hand and look down as you press it to your belly, then you laugh quietly. You tilt your head back as you hold his gaze, and you smile when John blinks a few times. You perk up and smile when you see his eyes growing glassy, and he lets go of you and turns around to hide from you. “Oh, my god! It worked!”

Keeping his back to you, John lets out a small laugh, “I’m not crying. Something flew into my eyes.”

“Oh, yeah, both of them?” you scoff, then you walk over to him and smile when he faces you, “You got a little teary eyed, don’t lie.”

“I did,” he laughs, and you raise your eyebrows in curiosity, “I genuinely didn’t mean for it to happen.”

You throw your hands up in victory as John laughs, then you dance in place, “I did it! I did it!”

John chuckles as he pulls you back to him, then he hugs you tight as you wrap your arms around his waist, “Can’t tell you how happy I am to have met you.”

“Oh, no, we’re not doing this again.” you laugh as you push yourself out of his arms, but he tightens his grip on you and smiles. “I’ve cried enough tonight.”

John hugs you tight in his arms as the two of you share a sweet kiss, then he kisses your cheek several times before burying his face in the crook of your neck. You hug him tight in your arms when he lifts you up to sit on the counter, then he kisses your nose before he walks over to the freezer.

“I ate all the ice cream last night.” you say, looking over your shoulder as he opens the freezer. “I woke up at like 2 and came down to eat it.”

“Without me?” John laughs, and you let out a small laugh as you nod. He walks over to you and helps you off the counter, then he kisses your forehead, “I made my girl cry a few too many times, so I think you deserve some ice cream.”

You nod, then you shrug, “They were happy tears though.”

“Oh, so you don’t want ice cream? Okay.” John jokes, letting go of your hand as he walks into the living room, and you run after him as you grab his hand.

“Hey! I still want some ice cream!”

John grabs his keys off the table and smiles when you look at him, “God, you’re so cute today. Come here!”

You laugh as John pulls you closer to him so he can kiss you, and you hug him tight around his waist. You tilt your head back to catch your breath for a moment, then you kiss him again and smile when he shakes his head.

“How the hell are you my wife? My wife?” he asks, and you playfully shrug, “So damn lucky.”

“What is going on with you today?”

John chuckles, “I don’t know. I think being around your parents made me…realize that that’ll be us someday. Your mom cheering on your dad, just like you cheer for me. Your dad is so in love with your mom, just like I am with you. It was nice.”

“They’re pretty cute.”

“They are,” John nods before leaning down to leave a sweet kiss on your lips, “I’ll tone it down for now, but just know that when we get home, it’s gonna get cranked up to ten.”

You laugh, “Oh, this isn’t ten?”

“You know this isn’t ten.” he laughs, and you smile as you look up at him.

“Hey,” you smile as you get to the bottom of the stairs, then you walk over and sit down when John pats the stool next to him. You lean over to see the book he’s working on, then you set your phone aside and prop your head up on your fist, “I love this cover, baby. It looks great.”

John takes a deep breath and nods as he sits back, “Yeah, it’s been fun to work on. A bit tedious with the gold flakes on the spine, but it’s a good one.”

You reach over to carefully move the book so you can see the gold on the spine, then you gasp, “This is gorgeous. They’re gonna love this.”

“Thank you. Got quite a few books done for clients. Some live not far from here, I thought you could ride along when I drop them off.” he says, and you nod your head and smile. John pats your thigh, then he leans over to kiss you, “How was lunch with Amanda? Kid-free?”

“Nope, Harper tagged along, but it was good!” you lean back and rub your belly, “Baby Wick is very happy because she got some amazing chicken -- a chicken salad. I ate like shit this morning so I figured I should eat a salad for lunch.”

John chuckles, “Balance.”

“Balance, yes. Balance because I…” you grimace as you look at John, “I so badly am craving a cheeseburger. I feel like these days all I can think about is food.”

“Hey, you and me both, and I’m not even pregnant.” John laughs, then he leans down to kiss your belly. “I’m glad you had a good lunch, baby.”

“Have you been outside today?”

John shakes his head and looks over, “No, I haven’t. Is it hot?”

“It’s like 100 degrees out,” you say as you grab your phone and look at the temperature, “Okay, not really, but it is like 80 something and there’s no breeze.”

“Wow, you must be dying.” he laughs as he gestures to your belly.

Nodding your head, you exhale loudly, “I’m certainly not thriving. Tess called me while I was out and wondered if she could come over and swim. I said yeah and told her I’d text her when I was home.”

“She knows that she can just come over and let herself in, right? I don’t mind. She even has a key to our front door. No sense in having a pool if we can’t share it with our family.”

“I told her that, but I don’t think she believes me when I say that you’re okay with her just coming over and using the pool without your permission.” you smile as John looks over at you and laughs, “As if anyone needs your permission. I’m the boss of this house.”

John leans over and kisses you several times, then he pats your cheek, “Yes, you are, baby. Hey, have you checked out the tank lately?”

“Ooh, I have not.” you get up from the stool and walk over to look at the fish tank, then you kneel down a little and look at all the bright colored fish swimming around. You grab the fish food and sprinkle a few flakes in, then you look at John to see him watching you, “They look good.”

“Yeah, I think we should get some more. How many do we have in there?”

You purse your lips and bend over to look in the tank, “Uh, I’ve counted 6.”

“Yeah, we definitely need some more.” he says, and you walk back over to sit next to him, “Maybe get some this weekend.”

John turns back to continue working on his book, then he glances up and smiles when he realizes you’re watching him. He gently brushes away the remaining gold flakes on the book and smiles as he looks at it, then he looks back at you again.

“Sorry,” you laugh as you shake your head, “I just love watching you work. I forget how…calming it is.”

“I don’t mind.” he smiles, then he leans over to kiss your cheek.

You watch John for a few more minutes as he finishes up the gold on the book, then you smile when he presses his stamp to the inside of the book. It’s always been one of your favorite parts, and you’re unsure as to why. It’s just really cute.

“Do you remember the other day when you were making me cry over everything?” you ask, and John laughs as he looks up at you.

“And you were trying to get me to cry, yes, I remember.”

You smile and grab your phone, “Well, when you were at work yesterday, I thought to myself ‘why don’t you vocalize more to John how much he means to you?’ So, I opened up my notes on my phone to write everything that came to mind. We both know that you’re good with words. You’ve always been honest with me and always told me that I make you so happy--”

“You do that too.” John says, furrowing his brow, “Baby, I know how much you love me. You tell me every day.”

“But I feel like I don’t say it enough.” you hold his gaze and smile, “I want to start being more open and vocal about it, saying cute things like you say to me. You deserve it. You deserve to hear it.”

John puts his utensils down and turns to face you, “Okay…”

“Look, you and I are number one when it comes to having our deep conversations and talking about how important we are to one another, and I love that. I truly think it’s what keeps us close.” you nod, then you laugh, “But when I opened my notes yesterday to write something to you. I noticed a note that I had written. We met in September; I wrote this about a month after we met. I didn’t even remember that I wrote it, and I hadn’t read it since I wrote it. Until yesterday.”

John sits up a little as a smile grows on his face, “Oh, I’m intrigued.”

“Keep in mind, I didn’t know everything at this point. You and I hadn’t even told each other that we loved each other yet.” you laugh, and John widens his eyes jokingly. “Yeah. Also keep in mind, I am not a poet. You wanna hear it?”

“I do. I absolutely do.”

You take a deep breath as you look down at your phone and unlock it, then you smile when John places his hand on your knee. You exhale nervously and prepare to read the note to John, and you let out a small laugh over how corny it is.

“I hung out with John again today. He’s incredible. I can’t quite put my finger on it and I can’t quite read him yet, but I like him. I like him a lot. When I’m with him, I feel…different. It’s a feeling that I’ve never felt before, it’s butterflies in my stomach from just a little glance or the softest touch, it’s my cheeks burning red when he smiles at me, it’s feeling my heart bursting in my chest when I hear his laugh. It’s…terrifying. I cannot breathe until I’m with him, and I’m quickly realizing how important this man is becoming to me. I want this feeling to last forever, and I have a feeling it will.” you look up at John and laugh when you see his eyes glassy with tears, then you look back to read it again, “I’m terrified and excited all at once, and I already know…that he is absolutely the man I am going to marry.”

John smiles when you set your phone aside, and you shrug bashfully as you hold his gaze. He leans forward and cups your face in his hands, then he shakes his head before he kisses you repeatedly.

“You wrote that about me after knowing me for a month?” he laughs, nodding his head, “Soulmates.”

“Soulmates.” you smile as you nod, then you kiss him again. “After reading that, I decided to have another little moment when I just write what comes to my head, so I gave it another go.”

John immediately nods his head and smiles, “I’d love to hear it.”

You grab your phone again, then you look up at John, “I feel like so many times we focus on whether or not I’m happy and whether I know that I’m loved, and sometimes we overlook you and whether or not you’re happy and know that you’re loved. It’s something I really need to work on, because you should always know how much I love you and how much I appreciate you and how happy you make me. Making you happy is all I truly care about, so if sometimes I don’t do a great job, just know that it’s not intentional. Just like I know you would never intentionally slack on being a good husband. We’re so lucky to have one another, and the flame that we have is never gonna fizzle out because we constantly-- sorry.”

John reaches over for a tissue and hands it to you so you can wipe away the tears on your face, and he smiles when you look up at him. He places his hands on your thighs and smiles, just waiting for you to keep going.

“The flame that we have, this love that we have, it’s never gonna fizzle out because you and I are constantly doing things to keep it lit. We’re lucky that both of us want to put in the work and both of us want to be with one another and make one another happy. Jonathan Charles Wick, you are my absolute best friend in the world, and I am so fucking lucky that I get to wake up and be loved by you, but I am even luckier because I get to wake up every day and love you.”

“Wow,” John laughs as he sits up, then he reaches over for a tissue, “Yeah, you got me.”

You smile proudly, “Yes!”

“Can I see?” he asks as he takes your phone, and you smile when he looks up at you, “It’s gone…”

Shrugging bashfully, you tap your temple and smile, “Maybe it just came off the top of my head.”

John wraps his arms around you to pull you close to his chest, then he kisses your cheek repeatedly before he sighs contently with you in his arms.

“Was all of it off the top of your head?”

You nod, then you shake your head, “Well, not the first thing I read. That really was in my notes. Along with a grocery list where I wrote that I needed condoms, which is weird since we’ve never used condoms, so the grocery list must have been before we slept together for the first time.”

John smooths your hair away from your face as he kisses you, then he smiles, “See what I mean? I am so damn lucky to have you.”

“We’re lucky to have each other.”

Nodding his head, John leans forward and presses a kiss to your lips, then he smiles softly, “No doubt about that.”

#john wick x reader #john wick x you #john wick imagine #john wick x y/n #fic: hold my hand #the tagging system is being really weird so i hope they fix that #anyway enjoy some cutie pies #the little ending part in the basement makes me teary eyed #they're so sweet with each other #ok byeeeee love yall

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americxn · 3 years

Text

Run (part 4)

wordcount: 2.8k

a/n: alright, so this was meant to be smut but I didn’t want to ruin the pacing by moving on too quickly so think of this as a little filler to the story. part 5 will be out sometime tomorrow, and it’ll be a spicy one.

Kai allowed you to distance yourself from him and the rest of the cult in the week following Liam’s death. You knew that he felt absolutely terrible for what he had forced you to endure and although he hadn’t verbalised it in the time since you had been unleashed upon Liam, the little glances and tentative smiles he passed you whenever you returned to the house were all the confirmation you needed. Kai had been quiet, thoughtful almost. And you had let him, resorting to keeping yourself busy and out of the house during the day, sometimes even spending the night elsewhere, minimising the time that you usually spent with Kai. To be honest, your own feelings were all over the place and you often found yourself gnawing on your lip, deep in thought about Kai and what he had accidentally confessed to you: “Why the fuck would I kill someone I love?” Maybe it would have been possible at one point, for you to love him. But you were angry, a sickening feeling of betrayal unfurling deep in your gut whenever you thought about him, about how he had chosen to believe a seventeen-year-old boy that he had know for two weeks, over you. Though, it was undeniable even to you that, throughout this inner conflict with yourself, Kai’s face spent far too much time occupying the front of your mind, each time you saw him, your brain emptying completely, Kai’s name being the only thought resonating throughout you.

Kai had let you take the week off attending cult meetings, and you knew that with each additional meeting you missed, his patience wore thinner and thinner, his guilt dissipating and giving way to irritation. And if there was one thing that you had learnt from this whole ordeal, it was that Kai abandoned any sense of morals and restraint that he may have when pissed off. And so here you were, stood at the top of Kai’s stairs that would lead you to the basement. His deep voice was already echoing through the closed door to meet you. You sighed; you were late. Taking the stairs down to the door, your hand paused on the handle. The last time you had gone down these stairs was to take someone’s life. You hastily pushed the thought aside, suppressing a shiver before pushing the door open and stepping into the room. Kai stood just before the little beige couch he usually took his spot of leader at, another cult member who you weren’t too familiar with sat to the side of him. Your spot at the other end of the couch was empty. Kai paused as you entered, trying in vain to ignore the entirety of the cult sat on the floor before Kai, stretching the entire length of the room. He looked at you, his mouth still open in paused speech, his hands frozen in gesture in the air. You stared at him, willing your shoulders to remain pushed back ever so slightly, the gazes of everyone else in the room burning into you. “What?” You snapped, turning your head to address the other members who stared at you wide eyed. “You want me to bow or something?” You demanded in irritation. From across the room, leaning against the wall with her arms crossed was Beverly, sporting a small smile at your unchanged attitude. A sea of heads turning hastily back to Kai was your only response, causing you to grind your teeth as you lowered yourself to the floor, crossing your legs under you. “No.” Kai said quietly. Your eyes flicked to his, watching as he extended a pointed finger to your old spot on the couch. “You sit here.” He demanded coolly, leaving no time for you to respond before he continued on with his speech, his gaze leaving yours. Several lips curled at this as Kai’s command crushed any hope that he would re-elect another member to take your place as his favoured follower. You stared with cold eyes out at the group upon reclaiming your rightful place beside Kai, a sense of cruel satisfaction filling you at the way a majority of the crowd cowered from your gaze, trying their best not to make eye-contact with you. The rest of the meeting passed slowly, dragging along until you had gone from perching on the couch straight-backed, to lounging against the soft surface, your head rested in your hand. You weren’t even listening to Kai’s dismissal, jolting in alert as everyone rose to leave. You moved to do the same, praying that Kai wouldn’t say anything to you and you would just be able to blend into the group filing out of the room. But of course, that was a fool’s hope. “Wait.” Kai said, looking to you as soon as you made a step to leave. “I want to talk.” You exhaled deeply, not feeling ready to talk to him yet. You swallowed your hesitation, forcing yourself to respond. “Yeah, sure.” The wariness filling your tone was obvious as you fell back down onto the couch, Kai waiting until everyone had left the room, the basement door slamming shut, before joining you. “How have you been?” He asked coolly, angling himself on the couch so that he faced you, his knees brushing yours. You hated the way the accidental touch momentarily emptied your mind, every nerve of your being surrendering to his close proximity. You swallowed. “Yeah, I’ve been fine. I spent a few nights with friends and stuff... that’s why I haven’t really been here.” You shrugged, your words trailing off awkwardly. “You don’t need to explain yourself.” He interjected, causing your gaze to drop to your clasped hands on your lap. His own eyes followed yours, landing on your hands. He stared at them for a moment whilst his jaw worked, causing your skin to prickle beneath his scrutiny. “Here.” He said, holding his pinky finger out to you. You cringed away, shaking your head. “Kai, I don’t -” “Well I do, take it.” You groaned quietly but lifted your arm to begrudgingly loop your pinky with his. “You know how this works so I won’t explain it again. I want to know what you’re feeling right now.” You sighed, glancing at him as his finger tightened around yours. His eyes searched yours with unflinching intensity, trying to sort through every glint of emotion that shone there. “I don’t really know how to feel.” You answered simply, shrugging. Kai shook his head. “No. It’s more than that. Tell me.” He said flatly. You tipped your head back at his unyielding tone, knowing full well that you weren’t leaving this room until Kai knew exactly where he stood with you. “I was angry. Obviously,” you began, breaking Kai’s scrutinising gaze to instead stare at your pinky entwined with his as you continued: “But now, I kinda just want it all to go back to normal. I killed someone Kai, the others aren’t going to forget that.” “Yes, but a sick part of you enjoys the power that gives you.” You cut him a silencing glare at his interjection, his words illuminating a truth that you had already come to know but tried to ignore. “I don’t know. I feel like I’ve thought about it so much that it doesn’t really seem to matter anymore. But that’s not true; you hurt me Kai, you almost killed me.” Pain flashed across his face. Pain and understanding. But he stayed quiet, letting you verbalise your thoughts and organise them into some sort of coherence. “For a while I thought I wanted to leave. I even thought you might let me.” You huffed a laugh at your own stupidity. “But then I realised that I wouldn’t want to leave even if I could. And it’s fucking sick of me, but I’m... for some reason, I wouldn’t want to distance myself from you anymore than I already have.” Kai’s frame went completely still beside you. You plowed on. “It’s like the moral... I don’t know, human, part of me is terrified of you, but some weird, primal part of me just wants to give myself over to you entirely.” At their verbalisation, your words seemed to come to grow into their full meaning, striking you with how starkly honest they were; your eyes prickled, a slight ache radiating from the back of your throat. “Like, I don’t know.” You mumbled, your chin beginning to wobble. You were aching to pull your pinky from his and cover your face with your hands but you refrained, not wanting to upset him. “Can you... can you say something?” You asked him in a quiet plead, your other hand rising to swipe at your eyes before any tears had the chance to fall. “I want you to keep talking.” His voice was so low it sounded like a growl. “I want you to keep talking about what you think of me.” You raised your chin to look at him, but his gaze was so strong that you couldn’t keep eye contact with him. “I feel like the longer I’ve known you, the more I’ve wanted to know you. Fuck Kai, there’s just something about you and I don’t know why it’s so scary but I ache to give myself wholly to you.” Kai’s eyes darkened beside you. “And then when you said that shit in the car, that you loved me,” you finally gathered enough courage to look at him, needing to scrutinise his face in order to determine the truth of his answer to the question you were about to ask him. Your eyes were red and teary, but you indulged in it, laying yourself out before Kai, willing him to pick your words and emotions apart to truly understand the depth of your stark honesty. “Did you mean that? Did you mean you love me in the way that you love everyone else in this cult? Or, did you mean it in a way that just applies to me?” “You’re a clever girl, y/n.” He said simply. “How do you think I meant it?” You huffed a sigh of irritation at his cryptic responses, but delved into his question. “I think -” you took a shuddering breath, struggling to put your response into a coherent answer. “I think that if you had meant it in the way that it means for everyone else here, then I would’ve been dead the second you slammed me to the concrete of that road.” He nodded slowly. “And why do you think that?” You sucked in a breath, knowing that he was goading you into dangerous territory. “Because...because you killed Winter.” You finished slowly. Kai sat back, seemingly pleased by your answer. “Exactly. See? You’re a clever girl.” “Okay,” you sat back, disconnecting your pinky from Kai’s. His hand dropped onto his lap as you wiped at your eyes. “And what exactly does that mean for me?” He studied you unblinkingly. “It means that you can take this in any direction you want. If you decide you hate me for what I did to you, then fine. Tell me to fuck off and I promise I’ll oblige you.” You processed his words, sucking on your teeth in thought. “Or, you can decide to give me a chance to make it up to you. I meant what I said, y/n. I’ve felt that way for a long time, and I will do anything for you to reciprocate that feeling.” He stood, sparing you once last glance before striding for the basement door. Pausing before the door, he threw his parting words over his shoulder: “Just whatever you decide, please stay in the house. The guest room is still set up for you. I hate not knowing who you’re with.”

You couldn’t sleep that night, mulling the conversation over and over in your head until Kai’s voice was the only thing occupying your brain. You tossed onto your side for the twentieth time, your eyes staring at the small line of light shining in through the crack under the door of the guest room. It was unsettlingly familiar, taking you back to the confined darkness of the closet Kai had thrown you in. You flipped onto your back once more with a huff, throwing the covers back so that the upper part of your body was exposed to the cool air. Kai’s room was just down the hall. Your stomach fluttered in forbidden possibility. Would he be asleep? If you went to him, would he kick you out? You turned your head to the little digital alarm clock on the bedside table. The red numbers flashed, notifying you that it was 2.30 am. Your hands fell onto your face. Stop fucking thinking about him, you urged yourself for the hundredth time, sleep evading you a little bit more with each time that your mind circled back to your earlier conversation. You bit your lower lip harshly in irritation, your arms flopping onto the pillow above your head. A flurry of butterflies swirled about in your stomach. Just go to him; he wants it more than you do. But it shouldn’t be so easy to forgive the man that almost killed me? Almost. And he would’ve if he didn’t want to keep you around. Yes, how flattering. He’s Kai Anderson, killing is like second nature to him. “Fuck.” You whispered into the dark room, interrupting your conversation with yourself. “Talking to myself? I’m going insane.” You didn’t give yourself a chance to reconsider, flinging the covers all the way back and lowering your feet to the cold wooden floor. Padding with bare feet to the door, you paused, looking down at yourself. Are tiny pajama shorts and t-shirt too much? You shook your head, forcing your inner voice to shut up. He’s probably asleep it won’t even matter, you reasoned with yourself, quietly pulling open the door and looking out into the dark hallway. Kai’s door was right across the hall and you crossed the space quickly, the intensity of your butterflies momentarily causing your nerve slip. You reminded yourself once more that it was just Kai and that, even if he wasn’t interested in you, he probably wouldn’t give a shit if you decided that you wanted to spend the night in his bed. You pushed open the door, not daring to breathe as you stepped into the darkness of the room beyond. The dim light flooding into the room fell over Kai’s large bed, his form a lump huddled under the covers on far side of the bed. You looked at him for a moment, at how small he looked huddled at the very edge of the otherwise empty bed. His breaths were deep and even as you eased the door closed beside you, skirting carefully around the bed to the other side and slipping onto the mattress beside him, turning so that you were back-to-back. His breaths faltered slightly at the movement beside him and you froze, slowly lowering your head to the pillow. “Y/n?” He mumbled, the words accompanied by a shuffling sound that notified you that he had turned over to look at you. You craned your own neck to look at his darkened face, swallowing. “Sorry,” you breathed, “I couldn’t sleep.” “That’s fine.” He reassured you quietly, his voice softened by sleep. “Here, get under the covers, you’ll get cold.” Your heart ached at his gentle command and he watched you carefully as you maneuvered your way under his covers, sighing at the immediate warm the thick duvet provided as it settled over your bare legs. “Goodnight, y/n.” Kai muttered as soon as he was sure you had settled, turning back around to snuggle deeper into the covers. “Goodnight, Kai.” You replied quietly, his pillow significantly softer than the one in the guest room beneath your cheek. Your eyes drifted closed, a sense of stillness and peace finally settling over your mind in the warmth of Kai’s bed. “Y’know,” Kai began, his voice muffled by his pillow, “I just can’t stop thinking about you.” A grin spread over your face at his words and you pushed yourself backwards slightly, sighing when your back came into contact with Kai’s. “That’s the reason I came in here.” You admitted to Kai, who merely grunted in acknowledgement, your words lost on his sleep-addled mind. You were asleep within minutes, Kai’s warmth leeching into you, the sound of his soft breaths lulling you into a satisfying sleep. taglist: @kitwalker02 @three-eyed-snail @forevercountess @kitwalkerangel @milly-louise @thecountessesglove (if you wanna be added or removed to let me know)

#american horror story #ahs #ahs cult #cult #kai anderson #kai x reader #continued #evan peters #evan peters ahs

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drabbles-mc · 4 years

Text

Protective Detail (5/?)

Nestor Oceteva x Reader

Warnings: language, stubborn lil cuties denying their feelings

Word Count: 3k

A/N: Okay so this has 110% become a comfort fic for me to write. But I promise if y’all can hold out for another chapter or so there is gonna be some payoff for this ridiculously slow burn. Pinky promise lmao

Chapter Index

Protective Detail Taglist: @masterlistforimagines @sillygoose6969 @mydaiilyescape @lovebennycolonmiguelgalindo @the-radical-venus @gemini0410 @garbinge @slutformayansmc @paintballkid711 @chibsytelford @yourwonkywriter @sesamepancakes

You woke up the next morning and instantly smelled coffee. You smiled to yourself despite the soreness in your neck and sides. How he had the energy after yesterday to wake up early and get coffee ready was beyond you. You made your way to the kitchen and were pleasantly surprised to see that he wasn’t dressed up. He was still in his sweatpants and t-shirt. Your smile grew as you saw that his hair was still in a bun on top of his head.

He turned around, a small smile on his face as he handed you a mug with coffee already in it, “Let me know if I made it right.”

You chuckled to yourself as you took a small sip, smiling and nodding, “You’re a quick study, Nestor.” You hefted yourself up onto the counter, “Oh, I let Jade know last night that I wasn’t going to be in at least for today and tomorrow.”

“You sure?”

You nodded, “Yea. I could use a couple days at home.”

“You can just say you miss my car,” he smirked as he sipped on his coffee.

You rolled your eyes, “You got me. I get teary-eyed every time I think about it sitting all alone at the body shop.”

He shook his head slightly, “So, what’s the plan?”

You shrugged, “There isn’t one. Lazy day today,” you looked at him, “For both of us.”

You were camped out on the couch for most of the morning while Nestor did laundry. He turned his music on again and all you could think was that it breathed a whole new life into the house. You smiled as you played games on your phone, hearing the music get louder and softer as he went up and down the stairs to and from the basement.

“Mind if I use the coffee table to fold?” he asked, hamper perched against his hip.

“Go for it,” you pulled your legs up underneath you so that you weren’t taking up the entire couch.

He sat down next to you and started pulling out clothes one item at a time. You were trying not to stare but you were entranced by how meticulous he was with his folding. If things weren’t lined up just right, he would start over again. He’d dramatically shake out his shirts before restarting the folding process and you fought the urge to laugh.

“They make those little contraptions that make folding easier, you know,” you chuckled.

He looked at you, an unamused expression on his face, “Those wouldn’t fold them right.”

“Apparently you don’t fold them right either. You’ve redone that shirt like three times already.”

“I don’t remember asking for your opinion.”

You smiled, shaking your head as you returned your attention to your phone, “You never do.”

Nestor was almost done with his laundry. Everything was stacked in neat little piles according to the type of clothing. You tried not to let your smile grow too wide—opting to grab your controller and pull up a videogame to keep you from staring at him. He grabbed two of the piles and walked them back to his room to be put away. You kept the volume of the television off since he had yet to turn his playlist off. Most of the music was mellow and it helped give the house a calm energy which was a nice change of pace after how the previous day had gone.

Once he was done putting his things away, he took his seat back on the opposite end of the couch from you. You smiled to yourself over the fact that he wasn’t trying to stay as far away from you as possible—now he at least let you share the same piece of furniture. He watched you make your little character run around farming land for a few minutes before grabbing his laptop.

You didn’t really notice the time ticking by as the two of you stayed there like that. You could get lost in your games for hours without noticing, and whatever Nestor was working on was keeping his attention locked in. A few times you fought the urge to try and peek over to see what he was even doing, but you didn’t want to ruin the peace.

Once you felt your stomach starting to growl, you looked over at Nestor, “Can we please get pizza delivered?”

He shook his head, “Definitely not.”

“Why not?” you flopped over onto your back so you were on his end of the couch looking up at him, “If you answer the door, they wouldn’t even recognize you with your sweats and your man-bun. We would be totally safe.”

He looked down at you and closed his laptop, “My face is the same face. We’re not getting delivery.”

“But I don’t wanna cook,” you whined.

He set his computer off to the side, “I can cook.”

The statement made you pause. You had been doing all of the cooking since Nestor started staying there solely because that’s what you were used to doing. Living by yourself it was either ordering in or cooking, and delivery had been taken off the table. You hadn’t given much thought to whether or not Nestor could cook. You were more than willing to find out, though.

“You know how to cook?”

He chuckled, “I’m an adult, Y/N. Of course I know how to cook.”

“You live by yourself?” when he didn’t answer you sighed, “I only ask because I’ve found that people who live by themselves either get really good at cooking, or they completely avoid it and depend almost solely on takeout. I’m just trying to figure out which one you are.”

There were a few moments of silence before he nodded, “Yes, I live by myself.”

“In a house?” you raised your eyebrows.

He looked down at you, smiling, “Still don’t need to know that.”

You wanted to make a smartass remark but he didn’t give you the chance. He stood up off the couch and went to the kitchen. You watched from the couch for a few moments, and by the way he knowingly grabbed things out of the fridge and cabinets, you had to assume that he used the mornings when he was up before you to go through all of your cupboards. He took out a cutting board and set a pot of water to boil, and you were instantly interested to know what he was cooking.

“Can I help?” you offered as you peaked over the back of the couch.

He shook his head, “Thought you didn’t wanna cook?”

“I also don’t want you to burn my house down.”

He turned around and faced you, “You can help by staying out of my way.”

“Yes sir,” you said dramatically.

Staying out of the way didn’t mean that you weren’t going to try and lurk closer to see what he was up to. You made your way over and tried to see what he was doing from the edge of the kitchen. He waved you off a couple times, a smile tugging at the edges of his mouth despite the fact that he was telling you to get the fuck out of the kitchen.

You attempted to grab yourself something to snack on while you were waiting for Nestor to finish taking over your kitchen, but he body-blocked you from getting to the cabinets. You sighed heavily, “You’re not my father, you can’t tell me that I can’t have a snack before dinner.”

“I never said that.”

“Then move.”

“No,” he smirked, “I told you to stay out of the kitchen.”

“It’s my kitchen!”

“You said this is my home for now too, so technically I think that makes this my kitchen as well.”

You opened your mouth to argue but came up with nothing. You huffed and went back to the couch. You heard him chuckling from the stove and you called over, “If I die of starvation you’ll have to explain it to my father.”

“I’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.”

As much as you hated to admit it, dinner was phenomenal and well worth the wait. The two of you were sat on the couch and every time you looked over you could see the smug look on Nestor’s face. Even though you hadn’t said anything, he knew that you were definitely contemplating splitting cooking duty as well as driving duty.

“Hey, Y/N?” he kept his eyes on the television.

“Yea?”

He kept his expression neutral but you could see the light in his eyes, “You’re welcome.”

You laughed and reached behind you, grabbing one of your decorative pillows and throwing it at him, “Fuck you.”

He dodged it with a laugh, “I’m not cleaning up any messes that you make.”

Once you were both done eating, you collected up your plates and brought them over to the sink. Nestor wasn’t really paying much attention until he heard you turn the sink on. He glanced over the back of the couch.

“You’re actually doing dishes?”

You laughed, “You cooked, I’ll clean.”

He nodded and you could see that there was a hint of a smile on his face as he returned his attention to the television. He was only sitting alone for a few moments though before he stood up and wound up next to you, drying the dishes as you set them in the rack.

“Seriously, I got this,” you laughed, “I usually do all of it by myself.”

“Feels weird just sitting there doing nothing while you’re cleaning,” he shrugged.

You didn’t want to argue about it, and you weren’t going to turn him away if he wanted to be a little closer, so with a small sigh you handed him a plate to dry off. The domesticity of it felt nice, but a little strange too. Part of the strangeness came from the fact that you knew you were reading way more into it than he was. You couldn’t help but to steal glances when he was reaching up to put things away.

You had no idea how long he was going to be staying with you, but you knew that you were a timer slowly counting down the minutes until you slipped up and got yourself into some kind of trouble with him.

“It’s still kinda early,” you said as you dried off your hands, “Wanna watch something?”

He raised his eyebrows slightly, clearly interested, “Like what?”

You thought about it for a moment, “You ever seen the John Wick movies?”

He chuckled, shaking his head, “No. But the fact that it’s plural makes me nervous.”

You rolled your eyes, “You got something better to do tonight besides have a movie marathon?”

You could see it in his eyes that he wanted to come up with a quick remark, but he couldn’t. You tossed the towel at him before walking off to pull up the first movie. You smiled to yourself when you heard the unmistakable sound of popcorn popping in the microwave. You left him to finish getting that ready while you disappeared into your room, reemerging with a few large bags of candy. He heard the rustling and looked at you as you walked into the kitchen, instantly shaking his head.

“Where were you stock-piling all of that?”

“If I told you, it would no longer be a secret stash, now would it?”

The two of you were about twenty minutes into the movie, each perched on your own end of the couch. You had your legs stretched out on the cushions, and Nestor had his feet propped up on the coffee table. The giant bowl of popcorn rested between the two of you, along with the candy you had brought out from your room. It was second best to being able to go to an actual movie theater.

“So you’re telling me,” Nestor looked over at your for a moment, “That I’m about to sit through three movies about a guy who goes on a killing spree because someone killed his dog?”

You chuckled, nodding, “Essentially, yea.”

“Three fuckin’ movies?” he laughed.

“Yes!” you threw a piece of popcorn at him, “Now be quiet or you’ll miss stuff.”

He smiled and settled back against the couch. He racked his brain, trying to remember the last time he got to just exist and be a regular person, and do regular things like stay in and have a movie marathon. It felt foreign and it took a little bit to get comfortable to settle into it. His eyes still darted to the windows and door, not forgetting why he was there in the first place. But even so, it was the most human he’d felt in a long time.

You woke up the next day to the sensation of your phone vibrating against your stomach. You forced your eyes open to see who was calling, hitting accept when you saw that it was your father, “Hello?” your voice was groggy.

“Ah, that’s the daughter I know—still asleep at noon.”

You chuckled as you sat somewhat upright, leaning back against the arm of the couch, “I called off today—I could sleep until four if I really wanted to. What’s up?”

“Just calling to check in. How are you? Estás segura?”

“Claro que sí. You worry too much, Papi. I’m fine.”

“And things are going alright with Nestor?” despite the fact that you had reassured that given the circumstances, you and Nestor got along just fine, he was still worried that you might actually drive the man to quit.

You looked down to the opposite end of the couch where Nestor was laying passed out still, legs entwined with yours in the center as his head leaned back, mouth open as he slept with the bowl of popcorn still resting on his stomach. You smiled to yourself, “Things are fine, I promise.”

“You would tell me if they weren’t?”

“Remember how stupid I thought this whole plan was?” you laughed quietly, “Of course I’d tell you.”

He laughed, and you could picture him sitting in his office shaking his head at you, “Alright. I’ll let you get back to your nap. Te quiero, mija. I’ll talk to you soon.”

“Talk soon, te quiero,” you hung up and set the phone on the coffee table.

You shifted so that you were completely upright, but somehow your legs were still tangled up with Nestor’s. You didn’t necessarily mind—it was probably the only physical contact you were going to have with him. It was nice, and it had the added benefit of helping to keep you warm.

Your fidgeting was enough to stir Nestor. He lifted his head up slightly as he opened his eyes. You chuckled to yourself, enjoying that you got to see a side of him you had never seen before. This was a different kind of vulnerable.

He pressed his palm against his forehead, shutting his eyes tight for a moment, “Morning.”

“Afternoon,” you corrected with a laugh.

“What?”

You showed him the time on your phone, “It’s almost 12:30, Sleeping Beauty.”

“Fuck,” he ran his hands down his face.

He looked around the room and it was only then that he realized that the two of you had been, and still were, sharing the couch the way you were. He instantly shifted so that his feet were on the floor, fumbling slightly so he didn’t spill what little popcorn was left in the bowl.

“Now I know your weakness is movie marathons,” you laughed as you pulled your legs so that you were sitting cross-legged, “This is the only time I have ever woken up before you.”

“Don’t get used to it,” he stood up and stretched, rolling his neck with a pained look on his face, “Fuck that hurts.”

“Want a neck rub?” you offered up with a laugh.

He shook his head, a tired smile on his face, “And give you the opportunity to snap my neck? You can’t make me watch all those movies and then try to put me in that position.”

“No faith, Nestor,” you smiled as you got up and started cleaning up the mess the two of you had created the night before.

“None at all,” with that he made his way down to his room to get a fresh set of clothes and a towel so he could shower and get ready for the day.

When he came back out to the living room, it had been restored to its former glory. You were just finishing straightening up the pillows when he walked in. You turned around to face him, your expression faltering a little when you saw that his hair was back into its two pristine braids. He still looked good, obviously, but you already missed the mess of curls.

He tucked his hands into the pockets of his sweats as he stood in the living room. It was the first time you had ever seen nerves of any kind show on his face. His brows furrowed as he tried to find the right words, “I know you said I’m not company,” he chuckled slightly, “but, um, thank you.”

You smiled, tilting your head in slight confusion, “For what? You’re the one keeping me safe, I should be thanking you.”

“I just mean, you know, thanks for treating me like a regular person. It’s been a while since I’ve had that.”

Your heart sped up a little bit, and you shook your head, “Don’t thank me, Nestor,” you laughed, “You can just say that I’m a cooler boss than Galindo. I won’t tell anyone.”

He laughed and you saw the way the tension dropped out of his shoulders. There were more words dancing on the tip of your tongue, but before you could say them, Nestor grabbed his laptop and made his way back to his room, slowly shaking his head as he went. You stood there for a moment and watched him walk away, heart still racing inside your chest.

#mayans mc #mayansmc #mayans fx #mayans mc imagine #nestor oceteva #nestor oceteva x reader #nestor oceteva x you #nestor oceteva imagine #my writing #fanfiction #protective detail #multichapter #chapter 5 #drabblesmc

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dem-khuya · 3 years

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rewatching “an autumn’s tale” 1987 has been on my to-do list for a long time now, but i never get around to doing it. instead i end up watching compilations of scenes from the movie on youtube instead because otherwise i get too emotional. i was a sobbing mess at the end of that movie, i don’t think i’ve been like that for anything else lol.

there’s a little part where cherie chung walks into chow yun-fat’s in the basement, though. and she sees all the effort he’s ever put into living and working in america. i remember so clearly the text he wrote on his mirror--his english name, how old he is, etc. i hate that scene...because it always makes me feel so teary-eyed lol. it reminds me of my dad. my dad has been in this country for who knows how long now, and he’s making it pretty well for himself, but he’s crazy. mom says he’s tau hoa nhap ma (chn eq is 走火入魔 or qi-deviated lol) because of all the electric currents he works with as an engineer. he flies into disgustingly abusive and angry moods, he has no sense of self-reflection, etc. and it reminds me of when L told me her mom is khung (crazy. but like... when she told me, she said khung. and i feel like that’s important somehow) now bc of all the years she’s spent into making money as a salon owner here.

there is no sympathy to be had for the petty bourgeoisie of this country. that’s not what i’m getting at. i just feel bad for my dad and L’s mom for putting so much work under this oppressive and capitalist system that has warped them as human beings and it’s like, for what. you’re crazy and miserable now. and as for my dad, he’s a source of so much misery in this household. the way that i imagine L’s mom is a source of sadness for her too. it makes me remember a little part in douglas coupland’s short story collection, life after god, where he talks about this little parrot that learned very hard to recite sentences to humans and he says how it’s sad how much we work so hard to do certain very meaningless things to make someone else happy. that’s how i feel about it all.

#xiaoshuo

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kindofcashton · 4 years

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𝕕𝕚𝕤𝕔𝕠𝕟𝕟𝕖𝕔𝕥𝕖𝕕 • chapter 11 (Calum Hood AU)

THE NEXT MORNING was spent consoling Hannah. She hadn’t heard from Ashton since the big blow up, which left her distraught. Whenever they fought before, they always called or texted to let each other know everything was gonna be okay. But Ashton was radio silent, and so it was my job to make sure my teary-eyed, emotionally wrecked best friend would be okay.

“Michael didn’t even look at me before he left,” she sniffled, rubbing her swollen eyes and pouting. I winced; this fight had been huge, and spilled over into everyone else in the house. I could tell Michael was feeling a little betrayed himself, and Luke probably shared similar thoughts. Calum, of course, I had no idea about. I only hoped they all wouldn’t hold a grudge against Hannah and make things even harder for her.

“He’ll get over it, Han,” I promised her. “Trust me. Once this all blows over you’ll be stronger than ever.” She shook her head, eyes cloudy and filled with misery.

“I don’t know, Scarlett,” she said in a weak voice. “It’s really bad.” I bit my lip, unsure of what else to say. I didn’t want to lie and say it wasn’t bad, because lying would help no one. But I also didn’t believe this was the end of her relationship with Ashton. They could mend the broken bridges between them, if only he was willing to try. I think time was the only remedy needed, and once enough time passed things could start improving.

We were joined at that moment by Calum. I avoided his eyes, still wildly confused about how to feel after last night. He’d shown a deep understanding that he’d never displayed before, and it stunned me. I thought Calum of all people would relish the opportunity to expose and humiliate me, but instead he chose to respect my plea for distance. As he sat down next to me, I felt the heat of his body so close to mine and shifted uncomfortably.

But apparently he wasn’t feeling uncomfortable at all, because there was a relaxed smirk on his face. He nudged his box of frosted cereal towards me. “Here, have some since I know you’d just steal it later.” His tone was jovial, causing me to finally meet his gaze. It was light and innocent, making my brows raise in disbelief.

I took the box and gladly dug my hand in, enjoying the sickly sweet cereal as Hannah distractedly scrolled through her phone. Calum shuddered beside me.

“I don’t know how you eat it dry,” he told me, pouring milk into his bowl. I wrinkled my nose.

“Because soggy cereal is disgusting, that’s why.” My expression was coy as I took another handful, and he rolled his eyes. I liked the way we could play off each other and actually joke around, the usual tension missing for some reason. I figured last night probably had something to do with it, but if this was the new normal I was completely on board.

Hannah looked up from her phone. “Do you have work today?” she asked. “I was wondering if we could spend the day watching bad movies and eating unhealthy food.”

I pursed my lips. “Actually, yeah, in an hour. But later we can totally--”

“No, no.” She waved her hand, heaving a sigh and staring off into the distance. “Maybe a little solitude would be good for me. I’m way too codependent.”

I frowned. “Hannah--”

“Don’t tell me it isn’t true, Scarlett, we both know it is. I’m overly dependent on people and you’re obsessed with fixing them. We both have flaws.” I blushed a deep red as she exposed our relationship problems. I felt Calum’s hand still above his bowl as he listened, and I suppressed a grimace. He had definitely began figuring out just how much I liked to fix things, how I obsessed over little details until I thought it was perfect.

Hannah pushed her chair away from the table and stood up, shoulders sagging and face crestfallen. “I think I’m gonna wallow downstairs all day. You’re welcome to join in the fun, Calum.” He gave her a small smile as she trudged towards the basement door, and when she finally disappeared downstairs I let out a sigh.

Calum pushed the cereal around in his bowl, frowning thoughtfully. “You think she’s gonna be okay?” His question was sincere, and I could detect behind the words just how much he cared for her.

Rolling my lips into my mouth, I shrugged. “I hope so. She’s been through a lot of shit recently, and I’d hate to see Ashton abandon her over it.” I briefly panicked that I had gone too far, made it seem like Ashton was entirely in the wrong. But if Calum thought this, he didn’t show it. Instead he just nodded, finishing his cereal quietly.

I checked the clock on the wall. “I ought to get ready, I have a bus to catch.” I closed the cereal box and began to get up, but then Calum reached out his arm to stall me.

“Why don’t I drive you? I have nothing better to do, and you’re probably really tired of riding that dingy bus.”

My lips parted in surprise, but his expression was earnest. I blinked a few times, at a loss for words. He merely rolled his eyes and stood up beside me, leaning in close as he said, “What, I’m not allowed to be nice?” His breath was warm and I felt my body tense up at the proximity of his face. But then he pulled away with a smirk to put his bowl in the sink. I exhaled, fidgeting a little as I considered his offer.

“Fine,” I accepted. “But you better be picking me up, too.” I quirked my lips up challengingly, and he chuckled at the counter.

“You’ve got yourself a deal,” he replied. I smiled before turning to head upstairs, thoroughly confused but pleasantly surprised. I told myself it was only because I didn’t have to catch the bus, not because a certain curly-haired boy was finally being nice to me.

I got ready fast and joined Calum by the front door, following him out to his car. It was another beautiful day weather wise, and I sighed happily as we climbed into his mustang.

“You better not complain about my music,” he warned as he put an old-fashioned tape into the cassette player. The car was vintage and had all the old features, something I found charming and very much in character with the owner. Soft guitar sounds drifted out, and I vaguely recognized the band. I didn’t say a word as we drove off, enjoying the way the music seemed to match our peaceful mood.

I was almost disappointed when we arrived at the cafe, wishing I could keep driving for hundreds of miles with just Calum and his music and the comfortable quiet. But this was reality, and I thanked him quickly for the ride before heading in.

Mack had realized a few weeks ago how well Roger and I worked together, and decided to schedule us with the same shifts since we had similar availability. This meant seeing him every time I worked, something the two of us were definitely fine with.

“Did I see you climbing out of a cherry red sex mobile this morning?” he asked innocently, and I choked on the water I was sipping.

“If you mean Calum’s mustang, then yes,” I told him, rolling my eyes at his insinuation. “He offered me a ride, how could I have said no?”

Roger smiled evilly. “I know a perfect way you can thank him,” he said, batting his eyelashes. I flipped him off with a laugh, trying not to imagine all the possibilities he had in his head. They were surely all dirty and seductive, and thinking about Calum in a dirty and seductive way was not going to help me do my job.

It was a quicker shift today, ending in the early afternoon. When I had about a half hour left, I began wondering what Calum was up to all day. I always wondered this; he didn’t have a job, didn’t go to school. What did he do all day? Where did he go? Did he have other friends, a different life away from us? I could tell he was full of secrets, and my mind drifted to what they could all be when the front door opened.

“No way,” Roger whispered, causing me to snap out of my daydreaming. Speak of the devil.

“Hey, Scarlett,” Calum greeted when he walked up the counter. His smirk was cool and his eyes were hooded, and I bit my lip. “Thought I’d try some of this coffee your always screwing up.”

I scoffed, and Roger shook his head as he butted into our conversation. “Oh no, she hasn’t screwed up an order all day. I want to see how long it will last.”

“Hey!” I protested, smacking his arm. “I didn’t mess anything up yesterday, either.”

Roger narrowed his eyes. “Debatable. The amount of whipped cream you put on that poor man’s hot chocolate yesterday was almost criminal.”

I folded my arms at him. “You can never have too much whipped cream, Roger.” He just flipped me off and got back to cleaning the display case. Turning back to Calum, I flushed. Having him here was overwhelming; he’d stepped into a part of my life that was entirely my own, and I almost felt like he was invading my privacy.

“Do you know what you want? Should I recommend stuff?” I didn’t know why I felt so nervous all of a sudden, trying to tell myself it wasn’t because of the deep brown eyes studying me so intently.

“I like the sound of that whipped cream,” he started. “Why don’t you pile it on top of a mocha.” I nodded, punching in his order and accepting his cash with a small smile. He went to sit at a table by the window, and I forced myself not to stare as I focused on his drink.

I’d made a hundred mochas by now, but this one I really wanted to get right. I made sure to add the perfect amount of steamed milk, and tried way too hard to make the whipped cream swirl as even as possible. Roger watched me work, clicking his tongue disapprovingly.

“You sure this is the drink that’ll get you in his pants?” I almost threw the hot coffee on his face, fighting a smile at his stupid jokes. I approached the counter and called Calum’s name, presenting the mocha proudly.

“I hope this is satisfactory,” I said as he took the mug and raised it in a mock cheer. I was slightly disappointed when he sat back down without saying anything, but pushed this feeling aside as I finished my shift.

Calum was waiting for me when Roger and I emerged from the back room after clocking out. My smile was shy and I hooked my bag over my shoulder nervously. But Calum’s smirk was oddly comforting, and he held the door for me.

“I thought we’d make a quick pit-stop at the grocery store for more beer,” he informed me, and I knitted my brows together.

“Didn’t you just get beer yesterday?”

“It was only a six-pack,” he defended with a laugh. “And besides, the guys all needed one after the blow up.” I nodded, understanding him completely. If I were Michael or Luke, I’d want to drown my worries too.

Roger appeared behind my shoulder. “Am I invited on this little road trip?” My jaw dropped, but he cackled and gave me a good-natured shove. “Totally kidding, go have fun on your grocery store date.” I almost tripped him at saying the word date, terrified that it would rub Calum the wrong way. But I don’t think he even heard, and I breathed a sigh of relief as we got back into his car.

“How was the beer I suggested yesterday?” he asked me, one hand on the wheel and the other resting on his rolled down window. I admired the way the sun struck his profile, the relaxed posture he drove in.

Licking my lips, I answered, “It was actually really good, probably the best beer I’ve had. But I’m not that picky when it comes to beer, though.”

He smirked. “What are you picky about?”

Smiling at his oddly personal question, I considered my answer. “Well, cereal, as you already know. I refuse to ever have it with milk. Other than that...not much, I guess. I’m fine with most things.”

Calum thought about this for a second, a distant smile on his lips. “So you’re just so easy-going and carefree, huh?”

I laughed, propping my feet up on the dashboard to reiterate this point. “Oh, totally.”

We arrived at the store and immediately went for the beer. Calum pointed out a few good brands, and I pretended to take meticulous notes on his suggestions. He picked out a case of the kind I bought yesterday, and we brought it back to the car.

He paused after stashing the bag in the backseat. His expression was clouded, and more protective than it had been all day. Clearly his walls were back up, but I didn’t know why. When he finally spoke, my question was answered, “Want to take this somewhere and crack it open? I don’t know, the park or something?” He was scared to ask me this, worried I’d say no. Fear of rejection, I thought. Interesting, considering all of his arrogant bravado.

I nodded eagerly, hoping to ease some of his nerves. “That sounds great. And it’ll give Hannah more alone time I think she really needs.”

The park wasn’t crowded at all, and we found a nice spot up on a hill a little ways. The shade of a tree provided us relief from the late afternoon sun, and at our vantage point we could watch the people roaming around below. I laid on the grass, propped up by an elbow as I watched Calum crack open the beers. As he handed me one we clinked the cans together in a toast, and when I took a sip I felt all of the past few days’ stress leak right out of me. The breeze, the sun, the fresh air; it was all so cleansing, and I couldn’t harbor any negativity in such a serene place.

Laying next to Calum, I inspected his face, unafraid of him catching me staring. I took in his full lips, thinking about all the different expressions they produced. His curly hair fell across his forehead, and I imagined what it would feel like to run my fingers through it. His eyes were definitely my favorite feature of his; rich brown in color, reflecting light in the dark depths. If I could, I would gaze into them all day, just to uncover whatever secrets they protected. Calum was an enigma I was itching to solve, and every day I felt a little bit closer to the truth.

Just as I thought, he caught me staring. But I didn’t look away, bravely holding his gaze as he confronted me with a look. A brief smirk crossed his face, before he took a swig of beer and sighed.

“What are you trying to find, Scarlett?” The question was innocent, but it set off butterflies in my chest. I liked the way he said my name, almost like it was music on his tongue. Blushing, I finally did look away and focused instead on the people in the park.

“Oh, I don’t know,” I responded. “Just trying to figure out all your little secrets, that’s all.” Something about the atmosphere had me feeling daring, and I hoped he felt the same way.

He laughed. “You don’t think I’m doing the same thing?” We met each other’s eyes for a second, and then he added, “Alright, fine. You tell me something and I’ll tell you something.”

“How democratic of you,” I joked, and he laid back on his elbows. I thought about what to tell him, sifting through the multitude of secrets in my arsenal. Deciding to take advantage of what little bravery I had right now, I said, “Okay, I’ll tell you something.” He shifted his position to face me better, and suddenly I felt nervous. But I pushed this away, determined to be honest, no matter how much his eyes burned into me.

“You’ve known something is up about me being home from school for a while now, and you’re right. I’m not on a break: I had to drop out.” I paused for a second to let him soak this in. His smirk faded to a frown, but I pushed on. “And the reason I had to drop out was because I was stone-cold broke. I couldn’t pay the tuition, so I had to leave. And the reason I’m broke is...” I trailed off, wondering if this was taking it too far. But I wanted Calum to know this. I didn’t know why I felt this way, why I trusted him all of a sudden. But I needed him to know what happened to me. “My parents both died recently, in a car crash. Everything went to the medical bills to try to keep them alive, but it didn’t work. And now I’m here, alone, broke, and...” I laughed morosely. “And with no idea what I’m doing.”

Calum’s face fell, his eyes filling with sympathy as he opened his mouth to say something. “Scarlett, I--”

I waved him off. “I don’t want any pity. That’s why I kept it to myself, because I didn’t want to be the poor sad girl with dead parents.” Already I felt Calum’s view of me shifting, and I only hoped he wasn’t seeing a weak, pitiable basket case in front of him.

He sighed, brows low on his eyes as he seemed to be waiting for me to look at him. When I finally did, he tilted his head. “Pity and support aren’t the same thing, you know. Everyone needs help when they go through something hard, it doesn’t mean people see you as weak or pathetic.”

My mouth felt dry as his words soaked in. I’d never looked at it this way before, and his fresh perspective actually made me feel better. I guess I hadn’t really let anyone just be there for me, I pushed everyone away. Smiling meekly, I said, “Now where were you two months ago when I needed to hear that?”

He chuckled. eyes dancing with amusement. I liked that even though we were talking about such a heavy topic, we kept it light. For someone I’d always thought was so brooding, Calum had a gentler side that was exactly what I needed in this moment.

I lightly pushed at his arm, leaning on my hand as I faced him. “Alright, since I just poured out my soul it’s your turn.” The anticipation of finding out one of his secrets was killing me, and I bit my lip to contain my enthusiasm.

Calum rested the back of his head on his hands so he was gazing up at the cloudy sky. His lips parted, and I held my breath.

“You’ve probably noticed the lack of shit going on in my life,” he started, and I nodded with a small smile. I was pleased that this was what he was going to talk about; it was what I was most curious about. “The reason I’m able to live this way is because of the checks my mother sends every month. She feels guilty for screwing up my childhood or something, I don’t know. The money is good so I don’t complain.”

This was a lot of information to process. I’d had a hunch for a while that Calum’s life was more complex than he let on. It was interesting to hear about his mother and their apparent estrangement. My fingers toyed with a few blades of grass as I waited for more of an explanation.

“I haven’t actually talked to her in months,” he admitted, sounding a little surprised himself at the confession. “Not that I don’t...care about her.” I noted the way he stumbled, avoiding the word love. “I do, I want her to be happy. I just don’t think me being around is good for either of us.”

Even though I had an entirely different view of my parents, this made sense to me. Sometimes distance is the best thing for a relationship. I was always close with my mother and father, but that was because they’d supported me my whole life. I had no idea what Calum went through with is mom, or how they ended up so estranged.

I hadn’t realized he was looking at me, expectant for a response, and I blushed. “Sorry, I just...it’s nice that you’ve found what works for both of you. So many people try way too hard and just end up hurting each other.”

He smiled, brows lifting. “Gotta say I’m surprised. With all of your psychology books and deep analysis I thought you’d try to tell me to reach out.”

Shrugging, I let a smirk twist across my lips. “I’m full of surprises,” I replied jokingly. Truthfully, I did think that Calum reaching out would be a good idea. Maybe not right now, but in the future when he was more mature and ready to confront his mother he should definitely do it. He deserved to have a mother, someone who loved him unconditionally. I wanted him to have a family.

When I glanced back over to him, I gasped lightly. The way he was looking at me took my breath away; it was as if his brown eyes had pulled back all of my defenses and were staring straight into my soul, my thoughts, my body. A gravitational pull was tugging at my chest, and for a second I contemplated closing the short distance between us and connecting our bodies. I was sure he could hear my thunderous heartbeat, and I wanted to reach out and feel his own.

His eyes flitted to my lips for a brief moment, and then he whispered, “We should go.” He rolled over onto his back and sat up, ending the moment just like that.

We were silent on the drive home, but it was a comfortable quiet I found myself sinking into. The image of Calum’s face, so close and illuminated by the setting sun, was burned in my eyes as I stared at the road in front of me. I wanted to kiss him. I wanted to be the one to make a move, to reach over and do what we’ve both been yearning for. But I also knew how much it would complicate things, and in a moment that was so blissfully simple, I didn’t want to ruin it.

I thought once we got home we’d both part ways and say nothing. But as Calum parked in the driveway, switching off the engine and engulfing us in total silence, I held my breath. He was going to say something, that much I knew. But about what I couldn’t possibly comprehend.

The interior roof lights cast a thin veil of yellow on his features, and in the small car it felt impossibly tight. I twisted in the seat, lips pressed together as I waited in suspense. Calum pushed a hand through his hair, letting the curls bounce above his forehead as he rested his arm on the headrest behind me.

He licked his lips, watching me closely. “Remember when you said I knew nothing about you?”

I blinked, remembering the night clearly. I’d hurled the words at Calum in the hopes he’d back off, leave me alone. Instead he seemed to want to get closer, and now here we were together in his car after spending the whole afternoon together. “Yes,” I said plainly. “I remember.”

He looked away, out into the dark distance beyond the window. “Well, you were right,” he declared, suddenly turning back to face me. “I don’t have a clue who you are. But the thing is...I want to find out.”

All of the oxygen had seeped out of the car. Blood was rushing in my ears, my fingers tingled with nerves. I felt like I was tilting in the seat, like gravity had flipped and suddenly I was fighting not to float away. A million thoughts spun through my mind, none of them making sense. Only one stuck out: I need to get out of this car.

And so I did. I stuttered something incoherent and slammed the door behind me, practically running to the door then up the stairs to my room. I tore my jacket off, then my shirt and jeans. I felt suffocated by the constricting clothes, and pulled on soft shorts and a big tee shirt. I began pacing across my floor, wondering if I’d just made a huge mistake. Calum had said something I’d been itching to hear for weeks, without even realizing it myself. But I couldn’t wrap my head around how we got here. We fundamentally disliked each other, but somehow we’d poured our hearts out today and crossed into new territory. I liked the territory, but I was terrified of it blowing up. All it took was one wrong move for Calum and I to disintegrate, and I was scared of crumbling because of him.

I flopped onto the bed, staring up at the dark ceiling. The stairs creaked in the hallway, and I felt the door to Calum’s room next door shut. Having him so close but so far was driving me crazy and not helping me get over my anxiety. I tossed and turned for what felt like hours, only thinking of him. His eyes, his lips, his voice.

Before I knew what I was doing my body took over and brought me to my door. I twisted the door knob, expecting to walk into the pitch black hallway. Instead I opened it up and was faced by the exact person I couldn’t get off my mind.

I hadn’t even heard Calum come to my door. But here he was, clad in only a pair of black joggers. I could barely see his face but I could make out his eyes boring into mine

I don’t know who leaned in first, but within a millisecond our lips connected. My whole body reacted to his touch, lighting on fire with every skim of his fingers. My hands went to his neck, his face, his hair. I pulled him tightly against me, feeling his bare shoulders and running my fingers across his wide back.

His lips molded to mine like clay, his tongue teasing at my mouth as I breathed hard. Our foreheads bumped together, teeth clashing and tongues dancing as the kiss deepened even more. His hands ran along my sides, igniting the skin as he went. I felt his fingers hook under my shirt, sliding up my skin and causing a string of moans to fall from my mouth. The sounds only encouraged him, and I felt his thumbs brush my exposed breasts.

Our lips tore apart for a second, and I exhaled lightly. “Calum,” I murmured against his cheek, and he attached his mouth to my jaw. The sensation was overwhelming as he dragged his lips down my neck, finding a sensitive spot below my ear. I couldn’t control my heavy breathing, and my knees weakened as he sucked gently on my skin. I wrapped my arms tighter around his neck for support, melting into his body like butter.

He peppered kisses across my neck to my jaw to my face, kissing my cheeks before reconnecting with my lips. The kiss had slowed down, softening into a sweet caress that calmed my racing heartbeat. I traced my fingertips down his neck, resting finally on his bare chest as we disconnected once and for all. My forehead bumped against his collarbone, his larger height making him rest his chin on the top of my head.

His hands rubbed up and down my arms, and I pressed a feathery kiss to his chest before leaning back. I tangled my fingers into his, pulling him back into my room.

“Stay,” I whispered, and I heard him close the door behind him. I fell onto the bed, pulling him beside me so we laid face to face. He brought the covers up around us, encasing us in warmth. I was finally breathing evenly again, sleep beginning to pull me under. The last thing I felt before I went under was the feeling of his arm hooking around my waist and pulling me into him.

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fritzllang · 5 years

Note

#7 for Pink/Orange?

Thank you so much for the prompt, and also for your amazing art which partially inspired this.

This is actually the longest piece of fanfiction I've written, so there's that. And I still have a couple of ideas about it, so who knows, maybe I end up writing a second part.

Hope you enjoy.

7. “Everyone keeps telling me you’re the bad guy.” + Pink/Orange

"Well kids, that's it for today. I've got places to be, should I drop ya off?"

White is half-turned in the driver's seat of his car to look at Freddy in the passenger side. Pink occupies one of the back seats; the three of them have just spent the entire afternoon staking out the diamond's place, eating junk food and listening to White's amusing but intentionally vague stories about his past jobs.

Before Freddy can say a word Mr. Pink answers for him:

"Actually… Orange, I was wondering if you wanted to hang out for a while?"

Freddy is surprised by the question, but he sees no good reason to say no; he can even justify himself saying it's good for his assignment to spend time with the guys. Still, he looks at White as if he's asking for permission. White looks back at him with a raised brow but says nothing, so Freddy shrugs.

"Yeah, sure. Bye, Mr. White."_ Shit, I sound like a fucking school kid_. He tries not to cringe as he gets out of the car and shuts the door behind him.

"Bye, boys." By the sound of his voice, White seems to find the whole situation entertaining.

As the car drives off the curb Freddy finds himself standing on the sidewalk along with Pink and suddenly feels self-aware, so he lights a cigarette and starts walking without direction, just to keep his feet occupied. For a while, Pink just follows beside him. Freddy's not exactly sure what it is that the man wants to do.

"So…" he starts, but he doesn't really have anything to say.

"Yeah, right. So, I was wondering…" Pink seems twitchy, but that's not out of the ordinary. "I heard you say you like action movies? There's this one I want to see…" Pink's fumbles with something in his pocket and produces a rolled cigarette, lights it with nervous hands. "Just came out. It's called Point Break. Wanna go see it?" Pink looks like it took him a lot of effort to get the words out.

Freddy ponders the question for a moment. Is this guy really asking me out on a date? He's not sure if he's reading the signs correctly; but if he is, well, he's not really opposed to the idea. Admittedly, Pink's not the nicest fella he's ever met, but at least he's pretty sure there's more to him than that coat of assholery he seems to wear for an armor. And then again, probably Holdaway would congratulate him for fraternizing with one of the guys. Sure Freddy, probably the man would also be glad to know you've been checking the boy's ass (not bad, for a man so scrawney).

In the end, he chuckles and nods. "Yeah, why not. I haven't been to the movies in a while."

Pink seems to light up. "Great. Uh… there's a theatre this way…"

They find themselves in an old, dusty-looking, two-screen movie theatre; Freddy buys a small tub of popcorn, and the movie hasn't even started when he's already regretting not ordering the large one, because Pink is stealing them and even has the nerve of complaining about the lack of butter. He thinks he might be starting to find the guy adorable. Freddy wonders if Pink's gonna try any kind of move on him during the movie, and the thought makes him nervous. What if he takes my hand or some shit like that? He already has enough with feeling like a fucking lovesick teenager around Larry, doesn't need the trouble of getting involved with another guy from the team. He decides to make an effort to keep his hands on his lap, staring straight ahead at the screen, and immerse himself in _Point Break _for the next two hours. (*)

Pink doesn't make a move; Freddy spends the whole time squirming and fidgeting in his seat anyway. He couldn't have picked a worse movie to watch if he had tried. Pink's constant hushed commentary doesn't make it any better, either. Fucking Hollywood movies with their fake-ass sexy FBI undercover agents and their homo plots. Fuck. Is the universe trying to laugh in his face? Has Pink discovered he's a cop and this is his fucked-up psycho way of telling him? But when the credits roll and the lights come back on Pink is staring at the screen teary-eyed and looking like he's ready to suck Keanu Reeves off. He doesn't blame him, either; he might have enjoyed the movie if he hadn't spent every minute of it expecting the man by his side to turn to him and say "Hey, could you imagine if there was a fucking undercover pig in our group, Orange?"

He's not telling Holdaway about this.

So as Pink is turning to say something Freddy gets up rather quickly and goes straight to the bathroom, ignoring the man behind him. He takes a couple of minutes to compose, wash his face and throw looks at himself in the mirror. He even whispers to himself, quietly, after making sure no one else is in the stalls.

"He doesn't know shit. You're super cool. You're fucking Beretta. You can do this Freddy. Shit. You can do this."

When he gets out of the bathroom Pink is waiting for him outside, absolutely oblivious to Freddy's nervousness (thank the man for his lack of social skills). "Was that a good fucking movie or what?"

Freddy gives him a lazy smile and agrees, and doesn't have to do much else because Pink starts going on a full review of every scene in the movie, with analysis of the subtext and innuendos, and he only has to nod and hum from time to time for the guy to be content.

By the time Pink is wrapping up his critique, they've been walking around for half an hour and Freddy's feeling a lot better. Pink seems to have been too enthralled by Reeve's and Patrick Swayze's intense relationship to give any thought to a possible rat in their job. It also clears any suspicions Freddy might have had about the man's tendencies. He definitely finds him adorable. Suddenly Pink stops and looks at Freddy with a smile on his face, he's taking something out of his pocket. "Hey, back there you seemed a bit on edge… you want to relax, for a bit?"

Pink opens a small tin can and shows it to him. There's a few rolled cigarettes and a joint inside.

This time Freddy lets out a big laugh, because if that isn't an advance then he hasn't seen one. But the truth is, he's starting to have a lot of fun with Pink.

"Yeah, let's go."

"Wait, I wanna grab a coffee first." He signals to a cafe on the corner.

"I thought you wanted to relax."

"I want you to relax. Anyway, I'll order decaf."

They order two to go and when Freddy goes for his wallet Pink puts a hand on his arm and smiles nervously.

"I'll pay. Owe you one for the popcorn."

Freddy lets him, but when the waitress brings the change back and Pink picks it all up Freddy lets out a chuckle and fishes a single from his pocket for the girl. Pink doesn't notice, he's too busy sniffing his coffee suspiciously and taking a cautious sip.

"Are you sure this is decaf?"

The waitress is trying to reassure him but Freddy's already on his way out, tugging at Pink's arm.

"I'm sure it is, leave the lady alone."

They sit side by side at a solitary part of the pier, almost sprawled on the wood planks. Pink takes the neatly rolled joint from the tin can and lights it up, huffing it a few times and then passing it to Freddy. He brushes Pink's fingers when he takes it, just to see if there's a reaction (there is, a twitch of the hand) and gives it a tentative puff. He hasn't smoked weed in a long time, almost since high school, and wants to be careful; the only thing he needs now is a high-induced burst of honesty or something like that. He doesn't want to look like a rookie either, he's supposed to be a dealer after all.

Stop it, Freddy, you're thinking too much.

Almost immediately he starts feeling the old-familiar dizziness and knows it's affecting him more than he wished.

The sun is starting to settle and the sky is tinted with orange and pink hues, it's like they've bled their code names into the dusk. Freddy stares at the clouds and is torn between finding it enchanting and terribly corny. The truth is, it does cast a beautiful light on Pink's face, softens his sharp edges. The guy's smiling too, in a way Freddy had never seen yet. Pink talks first.

"So, are you nervous about the job? Your first big thing, isn't it?"

Don't be too honest, Freddy. Don't be too honest.

"Uuuh… I mean, yeah, but just a little. The normal amount. You?"

"Nah. Well, I'm always nervous. But not about the job. I feel confident about it, we're supposed to be professionals."

"Yeah, I guess…"

"I mean, I wouldn't pick any of those guys for a friend, but if Joe chose them he must've had a reason."

Freddy lets out a soft laugh, he feels a bit lightheaded. "You wouldn't, uh?"

"Of course I wouldn't. Have you ever been alone with Mr. Shit?"

"Brown? Can't say that I have."

"Never met anyone more obnoxious in my life. The man can't fucking shut up." That sure sounds a bit like someone. Pink takes another drag before talking. "Always going on and on about Nancy Sinatra or The Breakfast Club or whatever thing he saw the night before in his mom's basement. And they say I'm annoying? What a nerd."

Freddy bursts out laughing, and Pink looks at him surprised but then does too. It takes them a minute to calm down.

"What do you say about Mr. Blue?" says Freddy, "is the man eighty or what? Always looking like he's about to take a nap."

"Yeah, totally. Sure, the guy must be old school, probably has a ton of amusing anecdotes about serving in the Second World War."

"Maybe even the First."

Pink wheezes, a cloud of smoke coming out of his nose and mouth at once. He passes the spliff to Freddy again. "And don't even get me started on Mr. Blonde, the psycho. Every time you so much as bother him a little he looks like he's ready to break your nose."

Freddy couldn't agree more. He won't say it, but that Mr. Blonde guy scares him; reminds him of some of his worst colleagues. He takes a long drag, longer than he intended, and returns it.

"And what about that "Nice Guy" Eddie?" Freddy makes the quotes with his fingers. "Yeah I get that he's the boss' son, but does he do anything? Is his job to babysit us or something?"

Pink shakes his head. "Nah, he's there for when Blonde's stressed and needs his dick sucked."

Freddy chuckles. "Whoa, you're so right. Can't believe you just cracked "Nice Guy" Eddie's."

The sun's long settled now, and the shadows of dusk have overtaken the pier, surrounding them in a bluish darkness stained by the yellow light of a distant streetlamp. The bright-red end of the joint shines when Pink takes a last drag and passes it to Freddy, almost finished.

"You know what, you're so right." Freddy says.

"Uh?"

"You're a bit of a punching bag, aren't you?"

Pink stays silent. Freddy stares at joint in his fingers before huffing it to the butt. It's late, he should be getting home.

"They all joke you're such a bad guy. Well, I don't think you're so bad." Freddy says. He doesn't say My real boss wants me to look at a bunch of mug shots and find your face. He doesn't say If everything goes right in a few days you'll be going to jail and it'll be my fault. He doesn't say I'm scared shitless but I don't know what to do.

Pink doesn't say anything, either. Freddy reaches with his hand to his side to let the finished spliff fall between the wood planks, and then keeps reaching, until his fingers brush Pink's and his hand in resting on top of his.

He can feel Pink is trembling, only a little.

(*) Point Break is a very extra 1991 movie about an FBI agent (Keanu Reeves) who infiltrates a gang of surfers suspected of commiting bank robberies. He ends up becoming friends with them and developing a very intense (very gay) relationship with the leader (Patrick Swayze). Drama ensues. And when I say very extra, I mean there's a scene in which, after finding out the truth, Swayze sky-dives off a plane to get away, and Keanus jumps without a parachute, catches the other midair and points a gun to his head shouting at him to open the parachute. That extra. Please watch it.

#my writing #reservoir dogs #pink/orange #ficlet #fic #anticmiscellaney #ratweasel

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canid-slashclaw · 5 years

Text

The Outliers - A Guildwars Love Story

Chapter 4

Amalthia adjusted the acetylene/oxygen regulator of her welding torch as she attempted to fuse the final piece of her rifle scope together. All of the components fit together perfectly except for the rear sighting post that stubbornly refused to seat properly.

"Just about... there!"

With the final spool of flux, she managed to solder together the last piece of her custom made handiwork. But just as she was about to shut down her workstation, she heard some rustling downstairs followed by a couple of guttural voices.

"Amalthia. Come down here now!" Her father called from downstairs. Once she had shut down her welding station, her nostrils immediately picked up the strong stench of rotting flesh.

Crap! I forgot to take out the refuse barrels last night. They're probably all maggoty by now.

She opened the window to her upstairs room hoping the fresh air would dissipate the scent. The room was already hot and stuffy due to her metallurgical hobby.

If only this place had an actual work shed, she pondered as she slipped on a pair of grungy open-toed boots that somewhat accommodated her clawed digitigrade feet.

"Did you forget to take out the rubbish barrels, again? The entire cutting room smells like a mortuary." Her father's voice carried to her upstairs room in his characteristic bellowing tone.

Padding down the spiral staircase, she looked across the living den and noticed the presence of another individual who happened to be a charr like her.

"Silly me. When I looked down I honestly thought the smell was coming from that woman other there. Oh. Hi mother. I thought I recognized your odor," Amalthia said while glaring at the female charr that was standing near the service counter.

Siri Blastfuse turned towards her smart-mouthed daughter giving only a slightly raised eyebrow as her slitted green eyes narrowed with contempt. "So the little cub deigns to disrespectfully greet her generous mother in spite of having a serious hangover. I am delighted that you had enough initiative within you to even make it out of bed, runt."

Amalthia rolled her eyes, pursed her lips then nodded with a half-cocked smile. "Well, I just had to verify where such a foul odor was coming from. At first I thought it was from the overripe meat in the cutting room, but then I saw your face and now I'm not so sure."

Ludrick growled with anger. "That's enough out of you both. Amalthia - your dam came here to let you know that she's been actively searching for warbands who may be willing to take you under their wing. Siri - give her the details... not the snark."

"Amalthia. My only surviving lush and shriveled-runt-of-a-lame-sire - I have some news that I thought might bring a ray of sunshine into your otherwise shameful existence," Siri said mockingly.

"I heard the legions have set up an all-volunteer regiment of suicide bombers. Were you the first to raise your paw when the call of duty was issued?" Her daughter replied with a smirk.

"That would make you too happy, now wouldn't it? No runt. I'm offering you a chance to make something of yourself. I've taken valuable time out of my busy schedule to search out a warband who might be interested in taking your sorry, alcohol-laden carcass into their ranks."

"You are so sweet, mother. You would almost have me believe that actual blood pumps through that heart of yours, instead of ice. Tell me there's not a catch behind all of this." Amalthia looked at her mother skeptically.

Her mother cocked her head slightly. "No catch. I'm just sick of hearing it through the rumor mill as to what a pathetic loser you turned out to be. Your current miserable state is bad for your sire's reputation as well as my own."

"Do you mean to tell me that you actually care for someone else other than just yourself? Father - she just may a spark of light in that otherwise inky black heart of hers," came Amalthia's sarcastic retort.

"If the two of you cannot speak to each other like civil adult charr then perhaps one of you should just leave. Either way, Siri came to say what she needed and that's all fine by me." Ludrick s hobbled on his cane towards the dining room chair in the hopes that sitting for a bit would help take the pressure off his already throbbing foot.

"Fine. I will haul those maggoty barrels to the back. Just so long as I can put as much distance between me and that woman..." Amalthia huffed.

"This place reeks of piss, rotten carcasses and cow shit. Come to think of it, I actually kind of regret pawning her off on you, Ludrick. Had I known she would have turned out to be this sarcastic, drunk and lazy, I would have..."

"ENOUGH!" The old charr's raged climaxed. He then fixed his gaze upon his daughter then pointed towards the staircase leading to the basement butchery. Amalthia gave her parting snark before disappearing down the staircase. "Very well, then. I will have this place smelling like a basket of freshly cut roses in no time flat. In the mean time, would you like me to scoop out a mound of fresh wiggly maggots for your take-out lunch, mother? Word has it they really aid in digestion."

Siri looked her former mate, crossed her beige clouded leopard spotted arms then shook her head. "Where does that scrawny little sack of fur and bones get that mouth of hers from? If it were up to me, I would have ripped the cub's tongue from her throat a long time ago. Why you allow her get away with so much is beyond my comprehension."

Ludrick pointed directly into her face. "Look into any mirror and you'll find your answer, Siri. She's the only lineage I have left. All of the other cubs I fathered are dead."

"Oh yes. How could I forget? You sired," Siri said as she began to count on her long, clawed hand, "just two litters? Why didn't you continue to knock up more kittens after our relationship? Were your loins just not up to the task or did something vital get lopped off?"

"Reasons, Siri. Reasons..." Ludrick lowered his head choosing to ignore her personal insults.

Siri looked him squarely into his eyes. "Look. I honestly don't care if that runt lives or dies, so long as her actions do not in any way sully my reputation."

"There was a time when you did care for our cubs; including Amalthia and her twin sister even though she died shortly after birth."

"My capacity for caring died along with our other three. You are too softhearted, Ludrick. And that softness is going to eventually be the doom of our people. You do know that, right?"

Ludrick looked at her then shook his head. "No Siri. Compassion is not weakness; it's a strength."

"What in the hell have you been sipping on, you old fool? You've obviously been hanging around humans too long. Now you're sounding sappy as well as sentimental."

"Open that poisoned tongue of yours once more and I'll show you just how much of a charr I still am. Now get out of my house, now! Otherwise I just might crack that skull of yours wide open with this cane!" Ludrick roared as he held his wooden crutch aloft.

"Ohh. Now that's the big, old hairy beast I used to know and adore. Keep talkin' like that and you and I may end up getting frisky and pop out a new litter together... just for old times sake of course, " Siri said with a devious grin as she slowly strode towards the front door.

"Out. NOW!" Ludrick's voice thundered with rage.

Within the span of fifteen minutes, Amalthia emerged from downstairs.

"I assume that evil woman has left the building. The air already smells less foul," she said while glancing around the dining area.

"She's gone... at least for the time being. Amalthia - I wish things were... oh, never mind."

"Oh my. The effects of inebriation are beginning to wear off. Talking like a teary-eyed human is a sure sign of this condition," Amalthia quipped.

"Bah! Please tell me you didn't finish that last liter of mead when you went downstairs."

"I would never be that cruel to you, sire. There's just enough for each of us to have one pint. I kept it in reserve for situations just such as this."

Amalthia helped her father down the flight of stairs as he hobbled trying to avoid putting undue pressure on his right foot. Once they were in the cutting room, father and daughter split the remaining contents of the liter between them.

"Yanno. I don't think there's a charr on the surface of Tyria who can match wits with my Amalthia," Ludrick said as he offered a toast.

"To a life of loose lips and brooding loneliness."

In spite of her inebriated state, Amalthia raised her stein then clashed it against his partially empty mug.

"I'll certainly drink to the first part, father."

#tyriaslibrary #gw2 fanfic #charr #the outliers #amalthia steelblade

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jackredfieldwasmyjacob · 5 years

Text

SONGS GAME PART 4:

(the title is a wip tbh)

So, here we are with another Songs Game, this time with all of the Skams I’ve watched, i.e. Skam, Skam España, Skam NL and Skam France.

If you don’t know what I’m talking about, here I explain it better, but basically, I’ve just paired a random song from my Spotify playlist to a random character, and I’m playing situations that could happen involving the song (think of it like in Glee or in a Music Video).

Of course, this means a lot of characters aren’t going to appear because their songs don’t match with them. Also, for this one, I did two rounds, so I could see if I could get better matches. Here is all the characters so you can see it for yourself:

(I know I’m missing some characters)

Also, before starting, some of the scenes will get played in a metaphorical karaoke / concert / gathering of all of the Skams I always imagine during this game, I picture it like in a basement of a bar or something like that.

Hope you like it, and please, feel free to do it yourself :)

Cris Soto - “Comiéndote a Besos” (Rozalén)

Holy shit we start strong my dudes. The song title translates to “Eating you by kisses” (it’s a Spanish saying, it feels weird in English), and I already made a post about the singer, if you like the song. So, speaking of the karaoke / concert setting, I imagine this song replacing the “Minuto a Minuto” clip. Basically, the Girl Squad (without Cris) lure Joana into this place, where everybody is gathered, and out of nowhere, there appears our girl on stage. Joana, confused, looks at her, and Cris, after a long breath, starts pouring her heart out with this song, practically crying in the end. Joana then runs up to the stage, also teary-eyed, and they hug and make up.

This are some of the translated lyrics, so you can see how perfect this song is for them:

“And today I bless the random reasons that made you / choose my bench to wait, to find. / It was your touch, it was your aroma, waking up my hormones / What made me close my mind and breathe” (flashback to s2 first clip)

“You are who stirs me up / you are who I fall in love with / you who makes me a better person. / And if I have to shout out what I feel / I tell you that I love you with your luck, with your shit / With past, with present, with or without illness” (this is the chorus... brb sobbing)

Lucas Rubio - “Hakuna Matata” (The Lion King)

(I couldn’t let Cris be the only Skam Es character to get its song you know)

So yeah, this would be a fun little song performed by all the boy squad, not only Lucas, for funsies. It would be amazing seeing Hugo and Dilan in Timon and Puumba costumes, and then Jorge and Lucas could both be Simba, having fun. Y’all know the lyrics, so let’s move on.

Noora Amalie Sætre - “Jinny Bingham’s Ghost” (Frank Turner)

Again in the karaoke / concert setting, I just think this song fits perfectly with Noora’s voice and style. This would be just a normal performance, her sitting with her guitar in the middle of the stage, and around her the girl squad and maybe other Skam characters too reenacting all of Jinny’s story as she is telling it, all with ridiculous costumes and barely capable of maintaining the beat, laughing and receiving an ovation when Noora finishes.

Vilde Lien Hellerud - “The Phantom of the Opera” (The Phantom of the Opera)

I imagine this taking place during s1, when Vilde is all crazy over William. She’s maybe looking through the window at school, watching William, when he looks up at her and sees her. She then gets red, and starts fantasizing, of course, with this song, William being the Phantom and Vilde Christine. All is very dramatic and dramatic, just like in the play, and it ends with Vilde’s fantasy being interrupted by Chris, who was worried she seemed like spacing out. Some of the lyrics, in case you don’t know the musical for some reason:

“Sing once again with me / our strange duet. / My power over you / grows stronger yet”

“The Phantom of the Opera is there / Inside my mind”

Isak Valtersen - “Heaven’s On Fire” (KISS)

In the karaoke / concert setting, Isak and Even are discussing how Isak is very little romantic with Even, and how Even’s the only one who does cute things for him. Isak then, accepting a challenge, tells his boyfriend to wait a minute, grabs his friends, and on he goes into the stage, giving it all, while Even looks with his jaw dropped. At the end, Isak comes back to Even, smiling, like nothing’s happened.

Some of the lyrics:

“I look at you and my blood boils hot, I feel my temperature rise / I want it all, give me what you got, there’s hunger in your eyes”

“Paint the sky with desire, angel fly, Heaven’s on fire”

Even Bech Næsheim - “The Only Exception” (Paramore)

So, this would be the sequel to Isak’s song. Even says that he said a “cute” song, not a “sexy” one, and then tells Isak it’s his turn, and he’s gonna show you who the king of romance is. Isak, petty, isn’t convinced, but then Even grabs Noora’s guitar and goes onto the stage to perform this fucking amazing song. Obviously, by the end Isak is crying, and when Even comes down, smiling, Isak tells him, fakingly mad, that Even’s won, and then they proceed to kiss and embrace how much they love each other.

Here are some lyrics:

“And that was the day that I promised / I’d never sing of love / if it does not exist, but darlin’ / you are, the only exception”

“And I’ve always lived like this / keeping a comfortable, distance. / And up until now / I had sworn to myself that I’m content / with loneliness.”

Emma W. Larzen - “A 1000 Times” (Hamilton Leithauser + Rostam)

This would take place after Isak and Even’s first kiss, when they abandon their girlfriends. Emma is walking home after she was left alone with Sonja, that just shat on Even and Isak, depressed and broken-hearted. She starts singing this song, first quietly, and then more and more expressively, pouring her heart out and crying profusely. When the song ends, she’s at her house door, so she wipes out her tears, puts on a fake smile, and enters.

Some of the lyrics:

“I had a dream that you were mine / I’ve had that dream a thousand times”

“My eyes were red, the streets were bright / Those ancient years were black and white”.

Alexia Martineau - “Set Fire to the Rain” (Adele)

Same as in Noora’s case, this is just a normal concert in the karaoke / concert place, so she can show off her amazing vocal skills and how she is one of the most powerful voices in the Skamverse. When she ends, everybody cheers and applauds her. From the crowd, she can clearly distinguish Cris, Chris and Janna, all looking proudly at her, which feels her with pride she has never experienced before. I’m pretty sure everybody knows the lyrics to this song.

Sofiane Alaoui - “Tu Canción” (Alfred García & Amaia)

The title translates to “Your Song”. I imagine this scene happening when Sofiane invites Imane to the fair place, and they are having fun while cleaning up. For some reason there could be a piano lying around, so they both sit up and then, organically, start playing this song while basically eye-fucking each other. When they finish, they look at each other, blush, and then awkwardly Imane says she’s gotta go, both with their hearts rushing.

Some translated lyrics:

“I feel like I’m dancing for the first time / You are the art that sweetens the skin / of my travelling mind that follows your feet. / I feel like I’m dancing for the first time”

“I can’t / make it up / I just want / your song”

Isa Keijser - “Welcome to the 60′s” (Hairspray)

Skam NL is perfect for scenes from musicals like this one, with their tendency of making random fantasies for the girls, so this could just be one of them. All of the girls would be dressed like in the 60s, dancing and singing around a characterized Utrecht. Isa would be the main singer, but the others would be the second voices. Some lyrics from the song:

“Hey mama hey mama look around / Everybody’s groovin’ to a brand new sound”

“So let go, go, go of the past now / Say hello to the love in your heart”

Janna Mertens - “This Means War” (Marianas Trench)

Again, this would be another fantasy / sketch, imitating the Music Video for this song, with Janna being Josh and then the other Skam NL characters being divided into the two gangs (I don’t know who the love interest could be, maybe we can all imagine she’s the love interest for the Janna season they definitely made T_T) Anyways, it could be a cool idea! Here is the music video so you can see how it would be:

youtube

And here are some of the lyrics:

“So nice to see ya here / Impolite would only be beneath us / It’s been what? Half a year? / Like nothing ever happened in-between us”

“I hate to admit it but I missed the war”

Ralph Hansen - “Monsters” (Saara Aalto)

Again in the karaoke / concert, Ralph is a bit bored because everything is “not enough gay”, so he calls upon the other Eskilds and puts on this song, being amazingly fabulous and everybody loving the shit of it, specially the Isaks and Evens, in the front. Some lyrics:

“So tonight I’m making friends / with all the creatures that are hiding there under the bed”

“It’s my life, I’m ready to lead it / I’m gonna roll the dice, you better believe it”

And that would be all!!!

Make me know if you liked it and your opinions, and please, feel free to make other scenarios for other shows and songs!!!

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flowers-for-flamingos · 5 years

Text

My Sunshine

Ok so... Here we go. My first That 70's show fanfic. Jackie and Hyde have so much untapped potential and it makes me mad the writers never gave them that chance. Plus season 8 was just a big NO.

Anyway, I adore the song "You are my Sunshine" and just thought this up the other day, because I love depressing stories for some reason. This is two parts because it's so long so don't get confused by the title.Will hopefully post the rest soon and maybe put it on AO3. So here we go...

Steven James Hyde never slept well.

Of course, looking at him you would have never guessed. Sure, sometimes he had some bags under his eyes. To be expected after late night circles.

Hyde never really remembered sleeping well.

When he was a kid, maybe 5 or 6, he would wake to the sounds of yelling. Screaming and fighting about nothing and everything. His mother and father would stand in various rooms throughout their cruddy house, not yet as destroyed as it would later be, and yell at each other. Hyde would sometimes listen as Edna called Bud a deadbeat and Bud would call Edna a whore.

They were both right, but that didn't make the yelling better.

He would take to covering his head with the pillows and blankets he had on top of his little matress. Humming made up songs to himself to try and keep out the horrible crash as dishes were thrown around the house.

It was eerily quite after Bud left.

That didn't mean that Hyde slept any better. The few days of quite following his father's abandonment left him sweating in his small room. He didn't sleep at all.

That was the first time he met Eric. Maybe the reason they ever became friends. Hyde was so tired from staying up, waiting for something to happen, that he fell asleep at his desk.

He woke to Forman shaking him awake. "You okay?" He had asked. "You fell asleep two hours ago. School's over."

He never said why he was so tired, but he kind of thinks that Forman figured it out by himself. Especially after they walked to his house together.

It wasn't till a week later that Hyde wished he'd taken advantage of the silent nights.

His mom would come home drunk, more drunk than he had ever witnessed. Drunk and yelling and fists swinging. She'd hit him, hit him hard enough to bruse. She was drunk, but always knew not to hit him in obvious places.

He never told Forman about that either, but Eric somehow knew that too.

He would stay with Eric as long as he could. He'd stay until Red came clomping down the stairs yelling, "Eric! Your friends better be out of my house in five seconds!"

He'd still get caught.

When he cried she hit him harder. Yelled that she had a no good, bastard of a son. That he was the reason for all her misfortunes. He sobbed in his bed that night. She had hurt him more than usual.

He never cried after that.

It slowly became less worse as Hyde figured out her schedule. What time was a good time to come home. Edna would be passed out on the couch and he'd sneak to his room, unscathed as long as he didn't wake her. He sometimes did.

Sleep still didn't come easy. He was safe from Edna's fists, but nightmares haunted him in her place.

He'd sometimes dream that she'd wake up, and had come to find him.

Other times Forman hated his guts. Never wanted to be his friend again. Didn't protect him from his mother's rage, and he was forced to go back home to her again.

Because that's what Eric was doing, protecting Hyde from Edna. Maybe Forman knew that too.

He spent a lot of nights at the Forman's. Sleepovers with him, Forman, and Kelso. Was nice not to have to go home, didn't stop the nightmares though.

As he got older, Hyde's nightmares seemed to get worse. The more people he befriended, the more he had to loose, the more nightmares took place. Red kicking him to the street, Kitty turning her back on him, Donna finding him repulsive, Kelso hating him forever.

It was one of the reasons he wanted to get his own room when he moved in with the Formans. He'd jerk awake from restless dreams, sometimes waking Eric in the process. He didn't want him to know. So he moved to the basement.

His worst nightmares were of Jackie.

They started off small, not so much nightmares as bad dreams. He'd see her in the basement and she'd ignore him. She wouldn't give him a kiss goodbye, intead she'd sneer at him. She'd hit him when he'd try and give her a kiss. He realise how much he'd miss her.

They slowly became worse the more he fell in love with her, and man was he in love with her.

He would sometimes dream that she left him, that she realised that he wasn't good enough for her and took off. Never even told him she was leaving. The dreams would be so real and so cold that he'd wake up with wetness on his cheeks and the desperate urge to call her and make sure she was still there.

Other times she never existed at all. Those were vivid too. Jackie never existed and Hyde was in jail and never knew he was missing something, something that made him whole.

The worst ones were when he hurt her. Those were the ones that felt the most real. He'd dream they had some stupid argument and he'd gotten so worked up. And SLAP! it would happen, just like that. He'd hit her, he hadn't meant to.

The shock, the hurt, the fear that came across her face made Hyde feel sick. So sick. She'd back away as he apologized, reaching out to her. Tears would stream down her face and she shake her head, desperatly trying to keep him away.

She'd call him a monster. Scream for him to get away from her. To leave her alone.

The dream always ended the same way. His friends would come running in. Donna would tuck Jackie under her arm, Fez stood in front of her. Hyde kept trying to see around him, to tell Jackie he was sorry. Kelso had this look on his face, one that Hyde had never seen before on him, rage. He told Hyde to never come back. Then Eric punched him in the face.

Hyde would always jerk awake, the dream leaving him teary eyed, sweaty, and nauseous. Sometimes he would throw up.

When Jackie would spend the nights, the dreams weren't as frequent, but they still happened.

He'd calm down, pull her closer to him. Breath in the sweet smell of her hair and promise himself he wouldn't loose her. Couldn't loose her. Because if he did, he didn't know what he would become.

#part 1 of 2 #ill finish it up #thanks for reading #please tell me if i messed anything up #that 70's show #steven hyde #jackie burkhart #eric forman #donna pinciotti #fez #michael kelso #kelso #hyde #jackie and steven

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thevampirediariesdiary · 6 years

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2.04 Memory Lane

A good episode - in fact, a very good episode. This is where TVD really starts to hit its stride.

We open on the Lockwood Mansion, the first founders party in 1864; Stefan and Katherine are doing the Simple-Intimacy-of-the-Near-Touch dance. Stefan goes in for the kiss, Katherine holds a finger in his face and teases, “Ah! No touching, Mr. Salvatore, those are the rules!” “I thought you didn’t believe in rules,” Stefan answers. She giggles. Stefan glances over her shoulder, says, “My brother is still upset you chose me to escort you.”

Yup, that’s pretty upset. “Well,” Katherine says, “Damon needs to concede that his younger brother is a better dancer.” If they hadn’t yet established that Katherine is an inveterate liar, this line would cinch it. She completes the next turn, looks back at Damon and says dispassionately, “Ah, it looks like he found someone to occupy his time.” Stefan looks – it’s Elena, looking odd in the middle of 1864 in her usual jeans and tshirt. She and Damon smile at each other, he takes her hand in both of his. Elena glances over at Stefan, who finally recognizes her, says her name. “Stefan, don’t,” Katherine warns, placing a hand on his chest, but he follows his brother, who’s leading Elena away, hand in hand, just as he did at the Miss Mystic Falls pageant. They step outside, Stefan follows them and finds himself in the middle of the Mystic Grille – Elena is posed with a pool stick, grinning. “It’s your turn,” she says. Stefan smiles back, relieved, and steps forward, only for Damon to step out in front of him, sing-songing, “Be prepared to lo-o-ose.” This is no longer fluffy-haired flashback Damon, whom Katherine called “sweet, sweet Damon” – this is the Damon of the present, clad in his usual black button-down and smirk; Elena’s smile was for him. He leans down to kiss her; Stefan watches, looking lost and a little defeated.

Damon breaks off the kiss and attends to the game, as if this is all commonplace, as if he’s used to these little moments – he doesn’t see the way Elena is smiling at him, he doesn’t need to. “It hurts, doesn’t it.” Stefan turns around, Katherine is standing behind him in full founders party regalia – she, not Elena, is out of place. “Now you know how I feel,” she tells him. Stefan turns back to the happy couple, who despite Damon’s competitive trash-talking are leaning over to make the shot together, wrapped up in each other and laughing. “Don’t fight it, Stefan,” Katherine says, “you loved me once, you could love me again.” He turns away from her, caught by the picture in front of him, perplexity turning to horror as his brother kisses Elena on the cheek.

He moves forward, but Katherine stops him. “I love you, Stefan,” she repeats, and they’re back in 1864, alone. “We’ll be together again, I promise.” She kisses him, folds herself into his arms – and then Stefan wakes up, in his bed in the Salvatore mansion, Elena sleeping next to him – except then he remembers that Elena didn’t fall asleep there last night, and flies out of bed. Katherine sits up and smiles at him, self-satisfied. “Katherine,” Stefan says, sounding annoyed with himself. “You have to admit, I am getting better at this,” she says.

Do you think I’ve spent too long on a two-minute dream sequence? Think again, because I’m about to break it down even further. First of all, I’m taking for granted that Katherine is working with Stefan’s real memories here, and that alone is fascinating. What we briefly see of their dynamic before the trippy stuff starts happening feels very familiar, since it’s basically how Stefan and Elena interacted during their MMF rehearsal – Katherine’s little “no touching, those are the rules” is the same way Stefan chose to flirt during the dance with Elena. As much as he claims he hates her, as much as he insists none of it was real, Stefan learned romance from Katherine – and the effects of that are still very much lingering. She’s a part of him. Then, even more fascinating, compare this to the other nightmare sequences we’ve seen: in 1.03, Damon gets into Elena’s mind and causes her to dream that Stefan turns into him while they’re making out. And in 1.04, Damon shows Stefan his deepest fear: a stoic, unfeeling Damon stalking and killing Elena. Now? The fear that Stefan is shown is specifically that the casual, comfortable affection that has somehow always been there between his brother and the love of his life will blossom into the casual, comfortable belonging that he sees in front of him. It’s not the fear that Damon will kill her (even after Jeremy!), and it’s not the fear that Damon will seduce her into bed – because even if Damon is a black-wearing, smirking vampire, Stefan knows that floofy-haired human Damon is still somewhere inside of him, and this is the Damon he fears is going to lead Elena away from him – whom, tragically, is also the Damon he loves. Just because it’s Katherine showing it to him doesn’t make it any less real. This scene is absolutely brilliant, as a demonstration of how far we’ve come, and a foreshadowing of 2.08 and 2.22. Oh season two, how I do love thee.

Well, it’s high time I moved on.

Katherine tells Stefan it was easy to get inside his head, asks, “Have you completely forsaken your nature?” This is more or less what Damon said to him in 1.04; Stefan attacks her and is thrown aside. He asks her what she wants; “I wanted to see you, I missed you, Stefan,” she answers.

Elena, meanwhile, is studying in the Mystic Grille, joined by – surprise, surprise – Damon. He vamp-speed appears in the seat next to her (really subtle, dude), she gasps. “What do you want?” she asks flatly. “So this is where you spend your time when you’re not stabbing people in the back,” he answers, making a very dramatic show of looking around as if he’s never seen the place before. “I tricked you into telling me the truth, that’s not stabbing you in the back, that’s using your own tactics against you,” she answers, rapidly packing up her books. “Where are you going?” Damon says. “I made myself clear, Damon,” she says, “I want nothing to do with you.” “Okay,” he says, lightly, “see you at Jenna’s barbecue.” Elena turns back around slowly; “How did you know about Jenna’s barbecue?” “It was my idea,” he says. He wants a social gathering to get to know Jenna’s old high school buddy Mason Lockwood, and so told Rick to tell Jenna. “What are you up to?” Elena asks. “I’m gonna put some silver into Mason Lockwood and prove he’s a werewolf,” Damon says, leaning in closer than necessary, as per usual. “See you at the barbecue.”

Tyler pesters Mason to explain why he turns into a wolf; Mason assures him it won’t happen to him because he won’t “trigger the curse”, and then refuses to explain any further.

Back in the Salvatore house, Katherine is reading Stefan’s diary while she waits patiently for him to get her a drink...which he does?? She confirms that a werewolf bite kills a vampire, and then points out that the push to rid the town of vampires in 1864 was led by the Lockwoods. We return to the original founders party, before the boys knew what Katherine was – Katherine and Stefan laugh together over a glass of champagne, Damon makes a toast to George Lockwood to show off how not-bothered he is by their being together. “So you’re saying that all the Lockwoods are werewolves?” Stefan says, sounding bored. “That the werewolf gene runs in the Lockwood family, not that they’re all wolves,” Katherine corrects. “My turn to ask a question,” she says, then pulls her portrait out of Stefan’s diary and asks why he kept it. “You wanna know why I came back?” she says. “Well, I have a better question. Why did you? For Elena? No. You came back here to fall in love with me all over again, didn’t you?” He struggles with that for a moment, then vamps over and cups her face in his hand. “What is it about you that makes me still care?” he asks. She goes to kiss him; for a moment it really looks like he’s going to kiss her back – and then just before their lips touch, he stabs her in the back with a vervain dart, and carries her into the basement to chain her up. “Now where were we?” he asks, coldly. “That’s right. You were going to tell me why you returned to Mystic Falls.” “You didn’t have to do this,” she says, voice shaking. “Answer the question,” he says. “I came back for you,” she insists. He walks to the other end of the cell, puts gardening gloves on, and then picks a vervain blossom and presses it to Katherine’s cheek. She screams. “Are you gonna torture me now?” she asks, teary-eyed. Yes. Yes, he is.

At the Gilberts’ house, Elena is putting chips in a bowl. There is nothing about this gathering or this group that makes me think anyone here is barbecuing anything. She thanks Jenna for letting her invite Caroline; Jenna says Caroline isn’t the plus-one she’s worried about. “Why is Damon coming?” she asks Elena. “Because Alaric is a pity-taker,” Elena says, “Come on Jenna, be nice.” “I’ll be nice,” Jenna answers, “when Damon learns to keep his paws off you.” Remember: Jenna has no idea Damon invited himself into Elena’s room, forced a kiss, and then murdered her brother. She’s still working under the assumption that Damon and Elena shared a passionate kiss on the porch which merely had the unfortunate effect of leaving Elena confused and uncommunicative. Caught between these realities, Elena looks uncomfortable, but is given a chance to slip out by Mason’s exuberant entrance: “Good news, I found the shot glasses!” “You’re here ten minutes and already I’m back under the bleachers at the pep rally,” Jenna teases. Mason pulls her into his side, both of them beaming. “It’s just like old times!”

I like them. “Ohhh,” says Alaric, coming in bearing steaks, which now that I think about it makes sense. “The expensive stuff, I like you already!” he tells Mason. “I’m just happy to be invited,” Mason says, looking like he’s trying not to be suspicious. “Well, thank Rick, this was his idea,” Jenna says. “Really?” Mason says, increasingly worried. “Yeah, I thought it would be nice to meet some of Jenna’s high school friends,” Rick says easily, “dig up a little dirt.”

Beautiful people, beautiful people in looooove. Oh, I’ve got dirt, I’ve got dirt,” Mason says, laughing. “I have no secrets,” Jenna says, “only dirty, dirty shame.” Honestly, Jenna is so, unfortunately relatable. They toast to dirty shame just as Damon walks in.

You can see precisely how he’s ruined the mood. Jenna is annoyed he’s there, Alaric is sad that she’s annoyed, and Mason just wants everyone to be friends. Jenna hands Damon her shot glass and escapes; Rick follows her. “She doesn’t like me very much,” Damon tells Mason. They introduce themselves; Mason tells Damon he’s heard great things about him. “Really?” says Damon, genuinely thrown off his game. “That’s weird, ‘cause I’m a dick.”

Katherine asks Stefan if he pretends to be human with Elena; he claims he doesn’t have to pretend to be anything with her. This is some seriously selective forgetting of large chunks of season one. “Does she know that you love me?” Katherine asks. He leans closer, says simply, “I don’t.” “That’s where you’re wrong, Stefan,” she says, struggling with her chains. In 1864, Stefan tells Katherine at her door after the party, “I know we’ve only known each other a short while, and I know I’m in competition for your affections, but I’ve never met a woman quite like you. I look at you and I see an angel. I touch your skin, and my entire body ignites. I kiss you, and I know that I’m falling in love.” They kiss, he repeats, “I am in love with you.” “There’s just so much you don’t know about me, Stefan,” Katherine says. “More to learn and love,” Stefan answers. “I must say good night,” she tells him, and disappears into her bedroom, where she is promptly kissed by Damon. “What are you doing?” she asks, pushing him off. “I told you I would come,” he says, in all his soft-haired innocent glory. “Well, I’m tired,” she says. “Did my little brother’s confession overwhelm you,” Damon says teasingly, kissing her hand. She snatches it back, snaps, “You shouldn’t eavesdrop.” Damon looks at her more closely; his brow furrows. “Is my love not enough?” he asks. “I told you, I’m tired,” she says, and then compels him: “I wish to be alone tonight, please leave.” He wishes her a good night and obeys; left alone, she touches her lips where Stefan kissed her and smiles to herself in quiet wonder. (This is a far cry from the story that Damon taunted Stefan with – we knew Damon was waiting for her in her room, we didn’t know she kicked him out, and we especially didn’t know she compelled him.) “Go ahead, Stefan,” Katherine tells him in the present, “torture me, keep me captive, drain me of my blood until my body turns to dust, it will never change the truth. I never compelled your love. It was real.”

“And so was mine.”

“It wasn’t real,” Stefan tells Katherine. “I remember you compelling me.” “Only after you learned the truth of who I really was,” she says. “You were so scared of me, I had to take away your fear.” “Well, whatever feelings I had back then, they’ve all turned to hate,” Stefan says. Katherine is unimpressed. “Love, hate, such a fine line. I can wait. Anyway…” And she proceeds to tell Stefan that George Lockwood had blamed the vampires to cover his own tracks, but was willing to strike a deal. They’d rid the town of vampires – but he’d help Katherine escape. “You knew that they were going to burn the vampires in the church?” Stefan asks. “I practically lit the match,” she says. “They were your friends,” he says, “they were your family, and you just sold them out?” “Without blinking,” she answers. “So you sent twenty-six of your friends to their death just to fake your own?” he asks. “No, you were running from something, what was it?” She sighs, shakes her head. “Everyone has a past, Stefan. Mine needed to stay far, far away.” She goes on, saying that the plan was almost ruined by Giuseppe poisoning Stefan’s blood, and Damon pulling her out of the cart. “We came for you,” Stefan says, tears brimming over in his eyes, “we tried to save you.” “I didn’t want to be saved,” she answers. “Then Damon and I died for nothing,” Stefan shouts, “for nothing!” “No, Stefan, you died for love,” Katherine says. It’s worth pointing out that this meltdown of Stefan’s is long overdue – Damon went through all of this when he found out the tomb was empty, and had pretty nearly processed it all by the time Katherine ever came back. But Stefan was so deep in denial that he couldn’t admit finding anything out about Katherine would ever mean anything to him – but it does, as we see here. He died for her – and that was poisoned by the realization that she compelled him, but now it’s been completely shattered.

A very wholesome game of pictionary is taking place at the Gilbert residence. Damon draws a dog in a tutu, Mason correctly guesses Dances With Wolves. Elena has secluded herself in the kitchen away from the game, which is also unfortunately relatable. “Aunt Jenna is getting tipsy,” Damon tells her, entering. “Will you stop plying her with alcohol?” Elena answers. “Well, I want her to like me,” Damon says. Elena asks about operation Lockwood, Damon tells her he’s his new bff. Jenna wanders in just as Damon is speaking directly into Elena’s ear and Elena is glaring at him. “There you are!” she exclaims, I think to Elena. “Isn’t this fun?” “Yes!” Damon says, imitating her level of inebriation. “Thank you so much for inviting me.” “Did I have a choice?” Jenna says, resentful. “I know what you must think about me,” Damon starts, but she interrupts, “No! You don’t. You have never dated you, I have dated many yous.” “Well,” Damon says, not quite sure how to respond to that, “I’m a work in progress.” Elena meets his eye over Jenna’s shoulder; she’s not impressed. Damon gets distracted by silverware; Elena pretends to ignore his stabby, stabby shenanigans. Damon offers peach cobbler to Mason with a silver serving utensil; Mason fishes a piece out with his hands and then says jovially, “I apologize, I’m an animal.” Alaric asks about Mason and Jenna’s history, he says she was too busy with Logan Fell to ever date him. “He had the girls lining up,” Jenna says fondly. “Really?” says Damon. “I always pegged you for a lone wolf.” “Well,” says Mason, maintaining eye contact, “I’m sure I wasn’t half the lady-killer you were.” Okay guys, we get it, you’re very cool and clever. Mason proposes a toast to new friends.

In the other room, Caroline and Elena are cleaning up pictionary, and Elena asks if it’s okay if she goes over to Stefan’s – he hasn’t gotten back to her all day, and she has a bad feeling about it. “I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Caroline says. “Damon has it under control here,” Elena says, which is the most insane sentence ever spoken. Caroline offers to drive her, and then lets the air out of one of her tires. Up until this moment, I’d totally forgotten her little meeting with Katherine last episode. Poor Caroline.

“Jenna’s bringing out guitar hero,” Mason tells Damon, “it might be time to mutiny.” “Well I just happen to like guitar hero,” Damon says, “so you, my friend, are barking up the wrong tree.” “Okay, enough with the innuendos, you win,” Mason says, “you’re hilarious.” “Thank you,” Damon says. “Come on, man,” Mason says, half-sadly, “you think I don’t know what this barbecue is about?” “How do you know about me?” Damon demands. “Doesn’t matter,” Mason says, “I’m not your enemy, Damon.” “You tried to kill my brother,” Damon says, flatly. Mason explains he has no control once he shifts, and just hadn’t been able to chain himself up in time. “What, no obedience school?” Damon snarks. “I’m serious,” Mason says, “let’s not spark some age old feud that doesn’t apply to us.” They shake hands; Mason looks grateful. Damon steals the Gilberts’ good silver knife.

Elena and Caroline drive off to the Salvatores’; Elena accuses Caroline of being snippy, Caroline says it’s her own drama. “I’m sure you two will beat the odds. Not that there’s any study to pull odds from…what is the ratio of success for vampire-human couplings? I’m guessing nil.” “Okay, Caroline,” Elena says. The tire blows, and they pull over. I’d honestly agree with Caroline – success for ‘human couplings’ is determined by those who die of old age, married, probably with grandchildren. There are literally only tragic endings to vampire love stories - breakup or murder, with no one to carry on your legacy.

Mason wishes Alaric and Jenna goodbye, tells Alaric they’ll catch that game. Damon follows him out. “You are a wonderful hostess,” he tells Jenna, kissing her hand. “And you are a terrible artist,” she answers. “Is that the only thing that makes me terrible?” he says, surprised. “Still deciding,” she admits. “Good enough for me!” he says. “Alaric?” Alaric smiles at him. “Let’s not catch that game next week,” Damon says. Awww. Bros.

Elena and Caroline are still waiting for the tow truck, the sun fully set. Elena says they can walk; Caroline says she can’t leave her car, and finally snaps, “Why are you in such a hurry to get to a relationship that’ll never work?” Elena accuses her of projecting her feelings about Matt onto her and Stefan; “I’m not projecting anything!” Caroline answers. “He’s a vampire, you’re not. You’re gonna be seventy and in diapers and he’s still gonna be smoking hot. And – you will never have his children, Elena, and you are too maternal to not have children!” Elena’s eyes widen. “Where is this coming from?” she asks. “I’m just trying to be your friend,” Caroline says. “Well, do me a favor and stop trying,” Elena answers. The tow arrives, Elena decides to walk, but Caroline grabs her. “Don’t leave me alone,” she begs. “What’s wrong with you?” Elena exclaims.

Damon catches up with Mason in town square. “What, more dog jokes?” Mason says. “Nah, those got old,” Damon says, and stabs him. But of course, it turns out the silver thing is just a myth and Mason was trolling him with the cobbler. “Now you’ve made an enemy,” Mason tells him.

Stefan asks Katherine what she’s doing in Mystic Falls. “Have you not listened to a word I’ve said?” she says. “I’ve answered that question five times over now.” “Make it six,” he says. “I want what I want, Stefan. And I don’t care what I have to do to get it,” she says. “My list of victims is a long one and I have no problem adding one more name to that list.” “Come on, Katherine,” he says, “if you wanted Elena dead you would have killed her by now.” “I still could,” she says, “I could snap her neck like a twig and you know it.” He grabs a stake, poises it to kill her, and then backs off, growling. “Guess you don’t hate me as much as you thought you did,” she says, amused. Then, authoritatively, “I don’t want you seeing Elena anymore. If you don’t remove her from your life I will kill everyone she loves, while she watches, and then I will kill her, while you watch.” The stake comes back up, “Don’t think for one second that I won’t kill you,” Stefan says. She throws him off her, and one-by-one, effortlessly, breaks her chains. “I have been sipping vervain every day for the last one hundred and forty-five years, she says, standing over him where he fell. “You caught me by surprise once, I wasn’t gonna let it happen again. It doesn’t hurt me, Stefan.” “What?” he says, “why – ?” “I told you, Stefan,” she says, in what’s eerily close to baby-talk, “I missed you. I just wanted to spend some time with you.” Upstairs, Elena enters and calls for Stefan – he and Katherine look at each other, she stakes him through the leg and vamps upstairs. Elena turns and finds herself face-to-face with herself. “You must be Elena.” To her credit, Elena completely skips fear and heads into problem-solving: “How is this possible – how do we look exactly alike?” But Katherine only leans closer, examining her, until Elena starts to realize the danger she’s in. “You’re asking the wrong questions,” Katherine says. Stefan appears, calling Elena’s name. She spins to face him, and when she turns back around, Katherine’s gone.

Katherine corners Caroline in the Mystic bathroom. “Occupy her, that’s all I asked.” “I told her her relationship was doomed, and all that mortality stuff,” Caroline says, “I really think I got to her!” “Let’s hope so,” Katherine says, “I already killed you once, I can easily do it again.”

Mason tells Tyler that the way to trigger the curse is to kill somebody. He didn’t want that to be hanging over Tyler the rest of his life, but Tyler admittedly caught him on a pretty bad day and he caved.

Elena and Stefan run into Caroline in the Grille; Caroline apologizes. “Everything you were saying was right,” Elena admits, “it’s just hard for me to hear.” She and Stefan sit down and have a fight about whether she should be afraid of Katherine. “If she had her way we’d be breaking up right now,” Elena says. “And if today taught me anything it’s that Katherine is used to getting her way,” Stefan says. “This is what she wants, she wants us to fight, she wants to get between us,” Elena says, her voice quavering. Stefan sighs, turns to her, says, “She already has, Elena.” Elena nods, silently, and then gets up and leaves him sitting there. Caroline, listening in, really does look sorry.

And Damon looks…?

Confused? Conflicted? He was there for Elena the last time she and Stef were on the outs, but now they’re barely on speaking terms. He leaves the bar, runs into Katherine. “Bad day?” she asks him. “Bad century,” he answers, then adds, sounding strained, “Heard you were on the loose.” “What’s the matter?” she says, “jealous I spent the day with Stefan?” “I don’t do jealous,” he says, “not with you. Not anymore.” “Then why so pouty?” she asks, following him. “Tried to kill a werewolf and failed,” he says, “and now I feel like I’m not living up to my best self.” “Well, werewolves aren’t easy prey,” she says. He stops, looks at her. “What do you know about werewolves?” “Why don’t you ask your brother?” she says, then adds, “don’t try to be the hero, Damon, you’ll end up dead.”

“Been there, done that,” he says. “At least this time it’ll be worth it.”

He, it seems, really has made his peace with all her betrayals. And something about this new life - his love for his brother, who he tells Mason he wants to protect, or perhaps something else? - makes even the possibility of a hero’s death worth it. He only wanted to turn into a vampire to be with Katherine, and would have chosen death without her if it weren’t for Stefan - but he’ll die for Elena.

Elena gets home, finds Stefan waiting in her room; they faked their fight for the benefit of eavesdropping-Caroline, whom Elena realized was behaving strangely. “I think Damon heard us fighting, too,” she says, “are you gonna tell him it wasn’t real?” “The only way Katherine will believe it is if everyone believes it,” Stefan says. “All this, just to get you back,” Elena says, shaken. Stefan scoffs, smiles at her, says, “It’s not why she’s here, okay? No matter what she says, I know her. Katherine doesn’t care about anybody but herself. She never has, she’s incapable of love.”

In the square, Katherine looks up at the moon and is thrown back into 1864, seeing the Salvatores’ bodies on the road the night of her escape. She runs back, brushes Stefan’s hair from his lifeless face, speaks the words from his dream: “I love you, Stefan. We will be together again.”

This episode is the Friday Night Bites of this season. Stefan soliloquized then about how Damon was a monster incapable of love, while we watched Damon tenderly brush Elena’s hair off her sleeping face. Here we are again – the question of the show is becoming clear: is anyone really only a monster? Or do we have to look again, even at someone as vicious and manipulative as Katherine Pierce?

Music Moments: Tyrone Wells’ “Time of Our Lives” plays while Stefan and Elena ‘fight’, and Sara Bareilles’ “Breath Again” plays over Stefan’s monologue about Katherine, and her memories of her last kiss with Stefan.

#tvd #2.04 #memory lane #rewatch #long post sry

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michael-hearteyes-wheeler · 7 years

Note

can you please do this prompt for lumax? “My biggest fear is drunkenly saying something I wasn’t supposed to say.” “Oh, like last night?” “…What?” xxxxxxxx

Okay! So this took me really long time to write and I am sorry about that! Also its painfully fluffy. Like so bad?? So be careful before diving into this one unless you actually want a toothache.

Also! I don’t write fluff very often so i’m not sure if its my best work, but I like it and think its fun, and I hope you do too!

Its bright. It’s so god damn bright. Why the hell is it so god damn bright!?

Max turns over in her bed to hide from the sun shining through her window. When she does, her head pounds against her skull and she groans. Her hand reaches out and feels cool hardwood floor, not the soft fabric of her sheets. So she groans again. It feels like she got hit by a bus, and now she was dying on someones floor. Great.

“Good morning, sleeping beauty.” A cherry voiced came from above. Max turned and opened an eye to see El’s blurry smiling face come into focus.

The night before slowly came back to her, bit by bit.

The party invite no one was expecting. Getting ready with El at her house. Showing up when the party was in full swing. Shitty music. Shitty people. Shitty booze. And then… nothing.

“El? Why do I feel like i’m dying?” Max’s voice was hoarse and shaky.

“Because you got super wasted last night, and refused to drink any water or eat anything.” El smirked. Her voice was quiet even if it sounded like screaming to a very hungover max, and she was already dressed for the day. How long has Max been sleeping?

“I did? I honestly don’t remember anything after you and Mike went into the basement.” Max grimaced, moving to sit up and squinting tightly as her head pounded even harder.

“Holy shit dude, you don’t remember anything? I guess that makes sense. I came upstairs and found you competitively taking shots with a group of cheerleaders. It was curtains from there.” El laughed.

“God, cheerleaders? Did I win at least?”

“Yeah you kicked their asses, but then you threw up and Lucas took you outside.”

“Ugh I feel like shit.” Max thought back on the bright red colors liquid everyone had been drinking all night. It tasted like pure sugar, and she was positive that that had been what pushed her over the line. Just the thought was enough to make her stomach churn.

“I’ll bet, but you need to put some pants on.” El said with a grin and stood up. “We are meeting the boys for breakfast.”

Max groaned for the hundredth time, but begrudgingly slipped on her jeans from the night before and borrowed one of El’s sweaters. She may have felt like complete garbage, but some greasy food just might make it all better.

Hopper dropped them off at Benny’s, and they saw the boys sitting and laughing at a table as soon as they walked in.

The guys had all crashed at Mike’s house (because he had a basement they could hide how drunk they were in) and Lucas hard driven them all over. Mike looked pretty much normal, his hair was a bit messier than usual but El actually thought it was kind of cute, so she sat next to him and ran a hand through it. Will looked perfectly fine, but knowing him, he probably didn’t actually drink anything anyway. Dustin looked just as bad as Max felt. He had his hat pulled low over his face, and his shirt had a few red juice stains on the collar from his inevitable spilling the night before.

Max took her seat next to Lucas, who had been the designated driver. He only had one beer that he sipped all night, and the kid held his liquor pretty well anyway.

As the others chatted amongst themselves and looked over the menus, Lucas and Max slumped back against the soft vinyl booth behind them. Max liked the way the warm sun beat down on her neck, it helped subdue the chills that kept sweeping over her arms and the bile bubbling in her stomach.

“Hey there party animal.” Lucas smirked at her. “How are you feeling?”

“Never better.” She sighed. “I actually blacked out. It’s pretty embarrassing.” Max grimaced, sipping Lucas’s glass of water.

“You blacked out? That’s not good. Like you don’t remember anything at all?” He wore a look of strange disappointment that Max couldn’t quite place.

“Nope. The last thing I remember is Mike and El walking downstairs… and I have like a really vague memory of Dustin dancing on a table.”

“Yeah that happened alright.”

“I hope I didn’t do anything dumb like that. My biggest fear is like… drunkenly saying something I shouldn’t have.” Max chuckled. She looked up to see Lucas staring back at her with a wry grin and wide eyes.

“You mean like last night?” Lucas chuckled back.

“What!?” Max hissed, dread instantly knotting itself in her gut. What if she told someone about the Mind Flayer? Or El’s powers? Or got into a fight with someone? She was panicking. “What did I say?”

“Oh I don’t know…” Lucas smirked, looking at his nails nonchalantly.

“Lucas Sinclair, you tell me what I said right now!” Her voice was a harsh whisper, if she really had said something embarrassing, she didn’t want the others to hear. They were all too busy lost in their own reminiscence of the night before to hear anyway, but she wasn’t taking chances.

“You really want to know?” Lucas teased.

“Yes you ass, tell me.”

“Okay okay fine. So basically, after you threw up, I took you outside for some fresh air. We walked to the edge of the yard and sat on this little bench. You were going on and on and on about El, and how much you loved her, and how much you loved all of us but mostly it was about El. I mean mostly it was nonsense, but the parts that were actually English were about that. You get really sappy when you are drunk.”

“That’s it? I mean, that’s kind of lame, but it isn’t exactly a secret.”

“Oh no, that was only the beginning. After we sat for a little while, you asked me if I could keep a secret from Lucas.”

“I asked if you if you could keep a secret from yourself?”

“Yeah, and obviously I said yes. I was worried you were going to say you had cheated on me or something crazy like that-”

“Why would you ever think that? I would never do something like that!”

“I know I know, but it was weird that you forgot you were with me, and you were talking about me so cut me some slack.”

“Okay fair. Continue.”

“So I said yes, I can can keep a secret from Lucas, and then you went on to tell me.” He blushed a bit, and smiled. “You kinda… sorta… told me that you loved me. Like a lot. So much that you started crying.”

Max stared back at him in stunned silence with wide eyes. They had admitted they ‘loved’ each other a couple of years ago, when high school started, but it wasn’t something they said often. It was kind of an unspoken truth that they both just knew.

“That’s…. That’s pretty embarrassing but I mean… it’s still not a secret.” She tapped nervously on the table, becoming more aware that he wasn’t finished.

“Yeah I know, but it was kind of funny to see you all teary eyed and swooning about me like I wasn’t even there.” He chuckled. “And then, you continued and told me that you wanted to run away with me and uh… get married and live in California.”

This time Lucas was the one who looked bashful. In all honesty, she had thought about those things with Lucas. She never ever thought she would fall in love, or want to be somebody’s spouse one day, but here she was. It wasn’t serious, and she didn’t want it to be anytime soon, but it was something she thought about. Obviously drunk Max thought it was more pressing than sober Max.

“Oh…” She said, turning pinker by the minute. Lucas was still smiling, but he had to think she was a freak now. He just had to. “I’m… um sorry I said all that.”

“Did you mean it? Do you want to like… be together forever?” Lucas suddenly turned serious, he looked directly into her eyes and held her hand lightly.

She bit her lip, not wanting to lie, but also not wanting to freak him out more than he probably already was. “I mean… Yeah. Of course I do. We don’t need to like… get married or anything crazy like that but… you are my best friend and I love you so…”

His face shifted back into a massive grin, from ear to ear. “Aww, Max, you totally love me. You wanna be Mrs. Sinclair one day, that’s so sweet.” He teased, pinching her cheeks and gushing.

She giggled and rolled her eyes, swatting his hands off of her face. “Or maybe I want you to be Mr. Mayfield.” She jabbed a finger at his chest. “And you totally love me back, which is super lame.”

“Oh just admit it.”

“Admit what?” El asked from the other end of the table. Clearly everyone had stopped chatting and tuned in on their conversation at exactly the wrong moment.

“Nothing!” Max said quickly.

“Admit that she wants to marry me.” Lucas sung, fluttering his eye lashes and dramatically clasping his hand to his chest.

“God! I do not, shut up.” Max shoved him playfully and blushed even harder, if that was possible.

The rest of the group stared at them like they were crazy (aside from El and Will who added to the embarrassment with a collective ‘Awwwww’), but it was kind of sweet. Max didn’t let herself be very sentimental or romantic, even when she wanted to be. It was nice to see that somehow drunk Max had gotten her feelings out in the open, even if it was disgusting.

“I think i’m going to throw up again.” Dustin said completely deadpan, with his head still in his arms resting on the table.

Everyone paused, not knowing if he was serious or not. Then he lifted his head and had that signature Dustin grin that only meant he was joking, and he laughed. Laughed hard. So hard that it made the others start laughing too. Soon they all snorted and wheezed, and slapped their hands on the table and made a real ruckus in the middle of Benny’s at 10:30 in the morning.

Max was relieved that no one seemed to care too much about her embarrassing admission, because truthfully, she meant it. Every word. She turned to see Lucas chuckling beside her with that big dopey grin, and her heart twisted.

She wanted to spend the rest of her life with that dorky little Stalker. It was a plan she made then and there, silently, while she laughed with her friends, that they all belonged together. Every last one of them, and she couldn’t wait to spend the rest of her life with her favorite people in the world. Drunk Max obviously knew it to be the case, so maybe it was time for sober Max to own up to it. She loved them, this little band of misfits, with her whole heart. Apparently so much that she cried.

And she couldn’t wait to marry her dorky, nerdy, totally a loser, painfully sweet, adorable, dweeb of a boyfriend.

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spencerreidsmiles · 7 years

Text

My Girl Pt. 1

Written by: spencerreidsmiles

Fic request by: @lovers-on-call-13

A Reid POV fic where the reader and Spencer have been kidnapped by the Unsub who only gives them water once a day. Spencer gives up his water for the reader.

Send asks, feedback, and requests!

Trigger Warnings: bordering on sexual content, mature language, mentions of death

Word Count: 1064

PART TWO PART THREE

MASTERLIST

You were so pale, fragile, deathly frail. Dehydration was the worst kind of dying. It drained every ounce of living hope from anyone that it came in contact with.

I couldn’t bear to see you like that anymore. You were usually a radiant girl with a smile that rivaled the brightness of the sun. But now you were struggling to keep your eyes from closing and your body from shutting down completely.

I knew that I looked horrible too. You could barely face me anymore. My face was gaunt and thin with a scraggly beard to top it off. But still, you looked even worse.

“Hello, hello, my dear kidnappees! Is that a word? Ah, no matter,” Joseph announced as he skipped down into the basement that we were trapped in. He scanned us and squinted angrily. “I said hello.”

“H-hello,” you managed to spit out. Even though you were in immense pain, you still had that spiteful fire in your voice.

“Oh that’s my girl,” he growled lowly. He crept up to you like a predator approaching his prey. He forced his lips on yours but you bit his lip, drawing a ruby teardrop of blood. He glared at you and wiped the blood away.

“Now that’s just rude,” he chastised. He pressed his entire body onto yours into the brick wall, making it impossible for you to move. He whispered something to you that made you visibly shudder. I had never despised anymore more than him. He finally pulled away after a long lasting minute. Joseph noticed how tense and angry I was getting and chuckled.

“What’s wrong, Dr. Reid? You couldn’t possibly be uncomfortable by the fact that I’m kissing your girlfriend? That would be completely ridiculous. Because you remember what happens if I end up with a single scratch on my impeccable physique, right?”

He waited for me to answer. “You kill her,” I said. A tremble began to appear in the back of my throat. Joseph clapped happily.

“That’s right! You are such a smart man, Dr.!” He patted my cheek affectionately like a kind old grandmother might to her darling grandchildren. “Now where were we, sweet thing?”

“You were about to get the fuck outta here and get arrested by my team,” you assured with a dark glower.

“Now baby doll, don’t be crude,” he sneered as he kissed your chin. “I think we were right here.”

I couldn’t look at this. Every touch that he placed on your body turned into a searing pain in my heart. You were my girlfriend, and nobody had the right to use you, to objectify you, to hurt you.

“My my my, kitten. You’re looking awful pale and thin today. Oh, that’s right! I need to give out the water like the gracious god that I am,” Joseph cheered. He picked up the bottle and presented it to us like a prize on Jeopardy.

“Whose turn is it today? Dr. Reid, I believe. My poor sweets, looks like you’ll just have to wait until tomorrow. No hard feelings, I hope. Well, except for the one that I’m feeling.”

I wanted to punch that son of a bitch.

“I don’t want it,” I decided.

“Excuse me?” Joseph uttered. It was the first time that I had ever seen him confused and shocked by anything. The sheer uncertainty in his face was the best thing I’d seen in years.

“I don’t want the water. Give it to Y/N. She needs it more,” I repeated.

“Spencer. I can wait. I’m fine,” you insisted.

I looked over at you. You weren’t fine. You had been having muscle cramps for the past few hours and you began to look feverish. Your breathing was irregular and your eyes were sunken in and had dark circles underneath from your constant exhaustion.

“Y/N, please. You need this more than me. You’re displaying all of the forms of severe dehydration. I’m still in my early stages. You need it more.”

“Well, you’re just going to make me cry from that beautiful display, Dr. Reid. Oh my, I’m getting a little teary-eyed just thinking about all that. Alright. I’ll give in. After all, giving my girl more water just means that I can play with her for an even longer time. Isn’t that right, Dr.?” Joseph conceded.

“Just shut up and give the water to her,” I demanded.

Joseph strutted over and began to pour the water into your mouth slowly. Soon, it overflowed and began to spill out before you could swallow. He licked it up and sealed it with another kiss. I shook the chains violently, foolishly attempting to break free.

“I thought I said no more funny business,” Joseph said icily. “I don’t appreciate it when people ruin my time with my girl.”

“She’s not your girl.”

He pulled up a chair and sat in between us.

“Hm. You’re a man of logic, aren’t you, Dr. Reid? Well, I’m going to put forth a proposition. If you’re smart, you’ll agree.”

I stood there, stoic and disgruntled.

“I propose that if you don’t do any of your little attempts to escape, then maybe-just maybe- I won’t fuck your girlfriend right in front of you. How does that sound? Good?” He laughed to himself psychopathically.

“You son of bitch! Get the fuck away from her!” I screamed. The chains holding me back clamored loudly as I tried to strangle him.

“Well. I thought you knew better, Dr. Reid. I suppose I just have to fuck my kitten now. How does that sound, darling?”

“Please…” you whispered hoarsely.

“Maybe tomorrow. I think I’ll let you wallow in what you just did, Dr. You’ve condemned your sweet little girlfriend. I’m not going to let you forget that. Trust me. I don’t forgive or forget. Good night!”

Joseph turned around and walked out of the basement door, locking the door. I could hear him cackling even after the door was closed.

“I’m so sorry. I wasn’t thinking. I wasn’t thinking,” I pleaded. You began to weep quietly, avoiding all eye contact.

What had I done?

My head hung low, eyes closing slowly. The sound of your tears were drowned out by the sound of my overwhelming guilt. I had condemned you to pain that you would never be able to lose. What had I done? Oh God, what had I done?

@hanny-bananny

#spencerreidsmiles #spencer reid #reid #reid x reader #spencer reid x reader #mgg #mgg x reader #matthew gray gubler #criminal minds #cm #criminal minds fanfiction

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reivenesque · 7 years

Text

Fic: Safewords (Shadowhunters/Malec)

Title: Safewords. Word Count: 3808 Words. Summary: There are abs on his screen, sweaty glistening, toned abs. So toned it’s almost an 8-pack instead of a 6-pack. Slick with sweat and almost shimmering under the vintage lighting of Magnus’ loft, staring back up at him like it’s a piece of juicy meat and he’s the hungriest predator in the vicinity.

Tags: Humor/Romance. Magnus/Alec. Alec and Lydia Brotp. Lightwood Family Feels. .

[ao3]

After twenty plus years of suffering through hours of repetitive, boring official meetings filled with monotone ramblings and a lot of dead air, Alec has perfected both the art of detached interest and incognito texting. Although through the years the incognito part of the texting has become more and more difficult to successfully pull off. He isn’t like Izzy and Max whose fingers fly through the touch screen keypads like people with far too much experience for their years, or Jace whose fingers fly through the keypads just the same but with far less accuracy and far less concern over the spelling or grammar. Alec thinks he’s become far too fluent in Jace-text-speak than is normal. Unlike his siblings though, when he doesn’t have a bow in his grasp the fingers of his hands spontaneously turn into all-thumbs. He misses the days when phones had actual buttons.

His first phone was a Nokia 3315 and he’s convinced it’s secretly a magical artefact not unlike his own bow. He was once stupidly caught cornered by a couple of demons in an alleyway by himself, his weapons knocked clean out of reach and the only thing he had on his person was the phone. It was a spur of the moment decision to throw it at the demon closest to him and somehow that distracted them long enough for Alec to make an all or nothing leap for his bow. Unfortunately the phone did not come out of that battle unscathed. It was ruined, but even before it expired it managed to accept one last call from Jace asking Alec where he was.

Alec still keeps the remnants of that phone in a special commemorative box in a drawer at his desk.

What was his mom saying again? He decides to do a mental check-in.

“—once again I am left sorely disappointed at the incompetence—”

Well nothing new to report there.

At least his mom has stopped referring to Magnus as the abomination. She’s gone past the actively trying to talk him out of it stage into the silently seething stage which is truthfully a breath of fresh air. Nowadays she actively tries to not talk about him or acknowledge that he exists at all unless it’s inevitable that their paths cross or she absolutely has to refer to him for one reason or another, only then does she actually call Magnus ‘him’with accompanying spittle containing at least 17 percent venom.

He really thinks that Magnus is starting to grow on her.

“Do you have anything to add, Alec?”

Yes. The Clave is stupid. Their rules are stupid. This whole meeting is stupid. What was it about again? He can’t even remember. He wishes he was at home tucked into bed with Magnus as the little spoon under a heap of blankets on Magnus’ golden Egyptian cotton sheets because it really was made for the Pharaohs.

“No, mother. You’re absolutely right.”

He thinks it’s the right answer because she doesn’t glare at him and subsequently moves on to another subject. Anything that doesn’t dispute her indubitable rightness is never the wrong thing to say.

He feels the vibration of an incoming text from the left side pocket of his jeans and with the skills befitting a synchronized swimmer and the grace of above water goose, he manages to slide the cell phone out of his all of a sudden far too tight pants while keeping his visible self absolutely aloof and at-attention. He’s so slick even Izzy and Jace who are sitting on either side of his position at the foot of the table, directly in his mother’s line of sight don’t notice a thing. Lydia and his father are in mirror positions at the opposite end of the table. Alec’s pretty sure the only one who actually wants to be at this meeting is his mother. His dad looks like he’s pining for the company of his pillow. Jace is outright yawning and Izzy looks impeccably dishevelled as only Izzy can look. Even Lydia’s looking around at all the disgruntled faces in the room like she’s having the exact same train of thought as Alec. When their eyes meet from across the length of the table, the silent acknowledgement that this meeting is utter bullshit goes absolutely without saying.

How’s your meeting, my dear? The text is surprisingly unsurprising from Magnus. Surprising considering that it’s barely 8 A.M. and Magnus doesn’t usually leave the company of his bed until at least 9.30, unless Alec stays in late, then sometimes they don’t leave the bed at all. Unsurprising since it is Magnus and Alec had dragged away the blanket before he left because if he couldn’t be curled up nice and comfily in bed then Magnus wasn’t allowed to either.

Kill me now. Or at least magic some coffee into my stomach and patience into my soul. It takes him far too long to type out that message after having to backspace multiple times because his thumb keeps on hitting the S instead of the A and he M instead of the N. He hates touch screen keypads so much.

That enjoyable huh? Alec can almost see the feline grin on Magnus’ face and he kind of wants to punch that expression right off his being, and then kiss him right on his stupid face. What was his mother saying again?

“—ashamed!”

I regret all tge choices I’ve made in life tgat has leaf me up to tgis point.He doesn’t even care about spelling anymore. Spelling doesn’t even matter when he’s likely to get nettled to death by his mother’s silent disapproval and vocalised shame.

You wound me Alexander. Followed by a series of sad and teary eyed emojis.

You know what I mean. He’s lying, he still cares about grammar and spelling, he isn’t an uneducated mundane.

No, I don’t think I do.Followed by a couple of streaming tears emoji.

I LOVE YOU STUPID.

Yes, I think I may have a vague idea now.Magnus continues his abuse of emojis.

“Am I boring you, Alec?”

Yes.

“No, mother, I’m seriously reflecting on my past actions.”

“Good.”

He feels Izzy’s grin before he turns to look at her, just in time to catch her mouthing, ‘ass kisser’ at him.

He whispers back when his mother has her back turned to them. “Not the ass I want to be kissing.”

“By the angel!” Jace exclaims from his left side, his tone one of horror and attracting all the attention to him.

“Yes, Jace? Is something wrong?” Maryse asks concerned. Looking intently at Jace and not noticing both Alec and Izzy almost sputtering trying to contain their laugh.

“Wha—N—No, Maryse. What I mean is…uh, by the Angel, only now…uh, I…only now I realise what trouble Clary and I have caused you and Alec and the Clave and we’re…uh, really sorry.”

His explanation is so unconvincing even Maryse looks sceptical at her Golden Boy Jace.

Need safe-word for when I need you to come rescue me from boring meetings.

How about ‘canoodle’?Alec tries hard not to physically roll his eyes.

How about ‘medium rare’?

…you’re never going to let me live that down are you?

Depends.

On what? It’s the first time Alec’s got Magnus in the text version of being speechless.

The level of canoodling.

How about this?Magnus texts back and Alec has to wait a few seconds until whatever it is Magnus is sending him comes though.

He looks away from the phone for a split second while waiting for the text to come in, determining that his mother has moved on from Jace’s half-ass explanation with barely a suspicious glint. Izzy keeps on glancing at him with a teasing look that he does his best to ignore. Jace has not made eye contact with him or anyone at the table for the last 7 minutes which counts as almost a record. If Alec wasn’t Alec and Jace wasn’t Jace, he’d think that his parabatai was even blushing.

His phone vibrates in his hand, signalling that whatever Magnus has deign to send him has finally come in. It’s a picture file that he opens without a second thought.

He lets out a sound that’s somewhere between a strangled choking sound and someone stepping on a cat; both the person and the cat, attracting all the attention to him. He tries to cough to cover up his shame but it’s too late.

“Yes, Alec. What is it now?”

He tries not to choke on the oxygen he’s inhaling. “N-Nothing, mother. I just swallowed a fly.”

“There are no flies in the institute,” Izzy says unhelpfully. Alec glares at her.

“Only ones named Simon,” adds Jace, equally unhelpfully. Alec wonders if it’s too late to put in a request for a new sister and a new parabatai.

Lydia shoots him a questioning look and he tries to telepathically beg her for help. “I have been getting complaints about bug infestations in the Institute. I think it has something to do with the crypt in the basement.”

Alec wants to buy Lydia shots, and lots of it. Maybe even a mundane house in the suburbs.

His mother lets out an ever suffering sigh but decides not to continue her line of questioning.

And the meeting once again resumes. At this point Alec doesn’t know head nor tails or what’s going on or what his mother is even talking about and he isn’t even pretending to. He dares a glance at the picture again.

There are abs on his screen, sweaty glistening, toned abs. So toned it’s almost an 8-pack instead of a 6-pack. Slick with sweat and almost shimmering under the vintage lighting of Magnus’ loft, staring back up at him like it’s a piece of juicy meat and he’s the hungriest predator in the vicinity. Medium rare indeed.

I didn’t mean actually kill me. I’ve grown pretty fond of being alive thanks so much.

Are you impressed, my dear?Alec can almost hear the smugness in his tone.

No. Not even a little bit. Not even at all. What the hell are you doing anyway? Please tell me you’re not doing one of those fake candid selfies of yourself.

I love you Alexander and I love everything you love, but I truly am going to throw out 10 Things I Hate About You if you don’t stop quoting it every other conversation. And to answer your questions. 1. I’m working out, if you must know. You think his dazzling physique maintains itself my love? And 2. No I am not doing one of those fake candid selfies, don’t worry your pretty little head off. A selfie is just a selfie.

At this point Alec has given up trying to look even remotely interested in what his mother is saying.

Like the way that hell is just a sauna?

Magnus texts back some devil horn emojis but with no text. After a few seconds, another text with an attached picture comes in. Alec is almost too afraid to look.

But not afraid enough.

His heart starts palpitating. His palms become clammy. He forgets how to swallow or breathe. His boyfriend truly is the devil.

There are biceps on his screen. Rippled, muscular biceps gleaming with still dripping sweat. Slightly veiny yet toned and taut and shining like a sexy beacon calling Alec towards the deadly rocks and his almost certain doom.

All of a sudden he doesn’t feel too well. His head feels light and his heart is thundering in his chest.

“Alec, are you okay?” He hears Izzy ask through the muddled haze that used to be his somewhat competent mind and constitution. He thinks this must be what the sailors in Greek mythology felt like when they heard the songs of the Siren.

Unwanted attention turns to him once again.

“Alec?” he hears his mother and the concern in her voice is unnerving.

“Sorry. I-I just…I just felt a little light headed for a minute,” he says, trying to cover up the four shades of pink his face has probably adopted. Both Jace and Izzy look at him in concern. But Lydia has a knowing look on his face that he neither likes nor appreciates. Alec thinks at some point his father actually fell asleep with his eyes open because he isn’t reacting to anything at all. He’s just sitting there silent, arm crossed over his chest and eyes wide open. Like, eerily wide.

“I think this would be the best place to end this absolutely enlightening and engaging meeting, don’t you, Maryse?” The emphasis on the two words make it apparent that Lydia is neither enlightened nor engaged. “Everyone’s been running ragged these past couple of days trying to deal with the influx of demon activity. I think they deserve the day off. Unless there’s some pressing matter at hand, of course.”

Maryse glowers at Lydia, but doesn’t refute her words. “Of course.”

“Well that’s that then,” Lydia says, getting to her feet. Alec doesn’t like the look she keeps sending his way because it’s the same look Izzy has on when she thinks she’s discovered some huge secret of his. He especially hates it now because Izzy is looking at him with the same exact expression and the same lopsided grin. He doesn’t appreciate the look Izzy and Lydia are exchanging with each other either. He wishes there was a way to go back to the time when everyone hated and didn’t trust Lydia at all. But then again, she did just give him the day off.

He almost leaps to his feet, startling Jace out of his happy place where he isn’t envisioning his beloved parabatai kissing anyone’s ass on loop and all is right in the world. Jace still can’t look him in the eye without seeing Magnus’s ass in the very next frame. He wants Clary to hug him and pat him on the head and kiss the nightmares away.

Alec is startled when Jace suddenly jumps up and even faster than regular Nephilim speed, disappears out the door and down the corridor like he has a hoard of Drevak demons on his ass.

No one knows how to react.

“Well. I think I’m going to go lie down,” Alec says after a while and begins his retreat. If he’s fast enough, he can get out of there before Lydia or Izzy can make—

“Try not to overexert yourself while doing all that laying down,” Izzy says.

“Being able to lay down in bed is such a magical activity,” Lydia says.

Alec feels betrayed by them both.

“Oh by the angel!” Maryse exclaims, her face in her hand. She points one manicured finger out the door and turns to her son. “Alec, go do what you need to do. I don’t want to know about it, I don’t want to hear the insinuation of it. Next time we have a meeting we’re leaving the phones at the door. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Alec can’t get out of there fast enough. He whips out his phone and frantically types out, MEDIUM RARE MEDIUM RARE MEDIURM RAR MEDIUM RARW MWDIUM TARW CANOODLING CACCNOOLDING MEDIUMRAARW.

He slams open the door of his room just in time to see a purple portal open up at the far end wall beside his closet. He doesn’t speed up his gait at all. Nope, not at all.

He exits on the other side to the welcoming atmosphere of Magnus’ eclectic loft and the sight of Magnus in an absolutely offensive sleeveless grey hoodie. And he’s actually doing reps with a dumbbell on a bench that he’d probably magicked out from nowhere in particular. Actually it looks suspiciously like the workout bench in Jace’s room. How dare he? He upped the ante of the candid selfie of himself. This is an accidentally on purpose intentional work-out walk-in. How very Magnus. And how dare he?

“Alexander,” Magnus says, looking up with a wide smile as if he’s at all surprised to see Alec standing there looking all flushed and absolutely scandalised. This just won’t do.

Alec struts towards Magnus with a purpose in his gait and mission in his heart. At this point Magnus has dropped this entire farce of a workout and put down the dumbbell.

Sweat is trickling down the center of his glistening heaving chest, between his tanned, perfectly sculpted pecs peeking out over the precariously zipped up hoodie. Alec hates that hoodie. Since when did Magnus actually own hoodies? They seem far too innocuous and plain for his taste. But maybe that was his plan all along. Either way, Alec hates that hoodie and he needs it to come off, right now.

He grabs his shocked boyfriend by the undone lapels and in one swift move, rips it open. This time it’s Magnus’ turn to look absolutely flustered in shock and unconcealed glee. He can’t even concentrate enough to keep up his glamour. His cats’ eyes watch Alec like a predator, but in that moment no one can really tell which one of them is the predator and which one is the prey.

One obstacle out of the way for Alec when he finally gets the offending article of clothing off his boyfriend’s exquisite person and lets it fall to the floor in a heap. He feels Magnus’ hand fiddling with the buttons of his own shirt before he reaches into his pants and pulls out his stele, dropping it to the floor without care.

Magnus has a look on his face that’s half experienced 400 year old warlock and half 7 year old child in a toy store that’s made entirely out of candy. Alec likes this side of him. He likes it even more when he backs Magnus up against couch, the back of his knees hitting the footrest and stopping them both in their tracks. Alec spares a glance down Magnus’ now shirtless torso and the way his sweaty shoulders and chest are almost luminous under the warm light and the glowing crescent moon hanging in the night sky. The taut, lean muscles of his biceps and his well-defined abs usually hidden under layers of expensive fabric and precious jewels.

For the first time since they met, Alec actually realises that this is his. Magnus is all his. He doesn’t have time to contemplate the meaning of it all before he feels himself subconsciously grasping Magnus by the side of his face and plating a kiss on his lustrous, glitter gloss covered lips. The kiss lasts a good minute before Alec pulls back and shoves Magnus back onto couch when he lands an unceremonious, scandalised yet tantalised heap. His sparkling cat eyes never once looking away or even blinking. He hasn’t said anything the whole time but his gaze speaks volumes in surround sound.

Alec’s not exactly sure what he’s doing or where he’s going with this, it almost like his body is moving of its own accord regardless of how ridiculous his brain is telling him he probably looks right now. All of a sudden he feels all of his 20 plus years of virginity greeting him like that one annoying jokester in class everyone only pretends to like but then rolls their eyes at when he’s done walking away.

What is he doing?

Taking off his shirt evidently, a completely vulgar and unsanctioned act and he’s pretty sure he didn’t verbally permit his body to do such a thing. But he’s unbuttoning the last few buttons on his unsurprisingly monotonous long sleeve black shirt and Magnus is looking at him like the sexiest awkward virgin in all the land. Magnus’ gaze is more inspiring than Shia Labeouf entire 30 minute motivational spiel. Alec only knows about that because Jace watches the video on repeat to psych himself up before a mission. But why is he thinking about Shia Labeouf and Jace when Magnus is shirtless and dishevelled and sprawled out right there?

He whips his shirt off his back and to the side, this time watching as Magnus’ glittering eyes rake hungrily across his own body.

Alec takes a deep breath, all while his brain is still yelling at him about what a bad idea this is. Monumentally bad. Walk of shame back to the institute bad. Even worse than when he and Magnus only had drinks because Izzy and Lydia will know. His mother knows. Oh god, Alec cannot get over what a bad idea this is and starts contemplating how he managed to get himself into such an awkward situation. He was having a really good day too. And he still owes Lydia some shots and a nice beige house in the heart of suburbia.

Magnus on the other hand doesn’t seem to share Alec’s insecurity and embarrassment as he reaches over before Alec can react and grabs onto the buckle of Alec’s belt, dragging him back onto the couch where they land a sandwiched heap.

“Nice of you to join me, my love. It was getting very lonely and very cold on his sofa by myself.”

Alec can’t seem to find the words, or even remember how to form actual words. “Medium rare,” he says instead.

Magnus smiles, one of those small but genuine ones where his eyes sparkle like they’re reflecting the stars in the solar system all at once. “Have I ever told you that you’re the most adorable person I’ve ever met in my 400 years of life?”

Alec would have been even more touched by Magnus’ words if he wasn’t feeling so awkwardly long on the couch, draped over Magnus in a rather uncomfortable position, propping himself up by the elbows on either side of Magnus’ head and his legs hanging uselessly over the edge. “I’m sure you say that to all the boys.”

“No, I don’t,” Magnus replies simply, his expression still easy going and playful but the glint on his eyes hardened and serious. “I love only you, Alexander Lightwood.”

Alec answers Magnus’ heartfelt confession with his lips. He feels Magnus’s hands fiddling with the buckle of his belt, but this time it’s Magnus who suddenly pulls away. He locks eyes with Alec, his face and entire body language serious yet understanding and comforting. “Only if you really want to,” he says, looking deep into Alec’s eyes.

And for the first time today Alec’s mind is clear and unwavering and he thinks, yes, he does. “I really do, Magnus. Only with you.”

Magnus smiles and it’s the most gorgeous sight Alec has had the pleasure to behold.

In the meeting room back at the Institute, Robert Lightwood with his eyes still open, his arms still crossed and his posture still rigid, sleeps on without a care.

#shadowhunters #malec #shadowhunters fics #alec lightwood #magnus bane #fic: safewords #i just realized i never posted this fic on my blog #it was on a writing challenge #reiven fics #anyway #obligatory #shameless self promotion #reiven shadowhunters fics

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