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theewritingroomm · 3 years

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Happy’s Girl

Summary: Happy finally get the courage to ask out Y/N Telford, who happens to be the daughter of none other than Chibs Telford. But neither Happy or Y/N stopped to think about how Chibs would react. Pairing: Happy Lowman x Reader Word Count: 2,583 Warnings: Out of character Happy, kinda. swearing. A/N: Happy is probably written out of character but I just love the ‘he’s a bad guy to everyone but her’ trope. Also, for those that wanted a continuation of THIS Happy imagine, this is the whole one shot. Tell me what you think!! Text divider by: @firefly-graphics

Y/N was walking out of the garage office and making her way to her car when she heard someone calling her name. She figured it was one of the guys coming to ask her about something related to the garage or to ask her if she had seen Gemma. Which she had not. But what she was not expecting was to turn around and see Happy standing there, and not meeting her eye. It confused her, she was used to seeing the killer hold a stare with anyone and not back down.

“What can I do for you Happy?” she asked, “Need something from the office?”

“No, I actually just need to ask you something,” Happy paused, taking a second to look around for others. Y/N waited, hoping he would continue.

“I was just wondering if you’d let me take you out?”

As soon as the words left his mouth Y/N’s stomach erupted in butterflies. She had never expected one of the guys, let alone Happy to be asking her out. Especially considering her father had a seat at the same table and the repercussions for dating his daughter were always great. But Y/N could handle her father and his temper, and neither were going to stand in the way of going out with the guy she had been ogling at for as long as she could remember.

With a smile on her face Y/N replied, “Of course Hap, I’d love to.”

A wide smile broke across his face at her words. “Tonight? I can pick you up around 8.”

“That sounds great, I’ll see you then.” Y/N replied, the smile never leaving her face as she got into her car.

Y/N was putting her earrings in when her doorbell rang. She let out an excited gasp as she run out of her bedroom and towards her front door. Sliding to a stop in front of it she took a moment to gather to breath before opening the door.

“Hey,” she said breathless as the door opened to reveal Happy on the other side.

“Hi,” he replied, nearly as breathless as Y/N had been. “You look amazing.”

“Thank you,” Y/N mumbled as she felt the heat rise to her cheeks as she stepped out of her doorway.

Happy took a step back to let Y/N lock her front door. He took a moment to admire her figure in the jeans that she had chosen to wear, thinking to himself that she was the most beautiful women he’d ever seen, with the best ass he’d ever laid eyes on. But that was something he would tell her later.

“You ready to go?” Y/N’s voice broke Happy out of his thoughts.

Happy smiled and held his hand out for her to take. Y/N happily took it, letting him lead her to the motorcycle that sat next to her car. Happy handed her the helmet that was hung over the handlebars before mounting his bike. Y/N followed him shortly after, buckling the helmet as she slung her leg over the bike.

“Hold on tight,” Happy said over his shoulder, a mischievous twinkle in his eye as he revved the engine of the motorcycle.

Nearly thirty minutes later Happy was pulling his bike into the empty parking lot of what looked like a bowling alley outside of Charming. As the two dismounted from the bike Y/N sent Happy a questioning look, as if to ask why the parking lot was empty.

Happy seemed to catch on because he began to speak, “Buddy owns the place and owed me a favor. Figured we’d get a better chance to be more open if no one else was here.”

Y/N simply nodded, knowing better than to question him as to why he was owed a favor. But she also couldn’t fault his thinking, which is why she did not argue with him when he grabbed her hand and led them to the front door.

The door opened easily, indeed opening to an empty bowling alley. However, all of the lights were on and there was even a table set up at the start of one of the lanes piled with different types of food and drink. It shocked Y/N, as she had just been expecting a simple dinner or movie. She never expected Happy to put in so much effort to impress her.

“Happy, this is...” she began, but was quickly interrupted by Happy.

“It’s nothin’.”

Y/N shook her head with a smile on her face, knowing that this man wasn’t going to accept any compliment or praise from her. And she didn’t get the chance to argue with him as he led her to the table. Once there Happy took a moment to set up the scoreboard for their game while Y/N poured them both a small glass of beer from the pitcher on the table.

“And we’re all set.” Happy spoke as he turned around to face Y/N who was unable to wipe the smile off of her face.

Nearly four hours later the two of them were walking up Y/N’s driveway and to her front door. Y/N was still unable to rid her face of the smile that she had been sporting all night. From the surprise that was the bowling alley to the good food and great company she could not have asked for a better date.

“I had a great time tonight,” Y/N said as Happy walked her to her door after what she would consider a pretty good date.

She turned to face him when they reached the door, smiling up at him. He gave her a small smile in return, the emotion actually reaching his eyes.

“I did too,” Happy replied, taking a step closer to her so she was less than an arm’s length away from him. He reached up to brush a piece of hair out of her face, watching her e/c eyes flash to his lips.

Happy took that as all the invitation he needed to lean down and brush their lips together; not kissing her yet giving her the chance to pull away is she wished. But Y/N didn’t pull away, instead she placed on of her hands on the side of his face, casting one final glace into his deep brown eyes before pulling him the rest of the way to her, slotting their lips together.

It was a soft, deep kiss. One that knocked the breath out of Y/N’s lungs and had her craving for more. Despite the feeling deep within her she pulled away, smiling as she could still feel the kiss on her lips.

“Wow,” she breathed out against his lips, touching her forehead to his.

Happy chuckled, pulled back a little more to look her in the eye, “You wanna do this again sometime?”

Y/N nodded, “Pick me up next Friday at eight.”

As the weeks went on everyone could see the change in Happy’s demeanor, but no one was complaining. They all just wanted to know what girl had Happy so whipped. So, while sitting at the clubhouse bar a few weeks later Tig decided to ask.

“Hey Hap,” Tig started, waving the larger man over, “I’ve got to ask man, whose got you so pussy whipped?”

The handful of men around them laughed, including Jax and Chibs. Happy looked from Tig to Chibs, trying to come up with something to say that wasn’t going to anger the Scotsman. But he soon realized that that was going to be next to impossible as the woman he’s been seeing is none other than his daughter.

So Happy decided to bite the bullet and come clean. He’d rather Chibs knock him to the ground now rather than later, or in front of Y/N.

“Y/N,” he mumbled, knowing that they all heard him. That much was evident by the sound of a chair scraping against the floor.

“My fuckin’ daughter,” Chibs seethed as he got nose to nose with Happy. Happy nodded as the club house went silent. “Ya’ bangin’ my fuckin’ kid!”

“Dating,” Happy replied, not backing down now. “We’re dating.”

Chibs shook his head, anger pouring off the man in waves. “No, end it now. She’s not dating a Son, she deserves more than this life.”

“I couldn’t agree more,” Happy began, “She deserves so much more than I can give her, and I’ve tried to tell her than. But she’s chosen to stay.”

Happy took a deep breath, shocked with himself for feeling so many things about this situation and his girl, he wasn’t used to it. “I think I may love her,” he continued.

The clubhouse went deadly silent. No one dared make a sound as the anger rose in Chibs, rather many of them took a step back just as Chibs brought his arm back and slugged Happy across the face, sending the larger man stumbling back a step or two. Gasps and exclamations broke out of the men surrounding Happy and Chibs, waiting to see what would happen next. Many of them expected Happy to come back and lay Chibs out, none of them would blame him if he did. But Happy didn’t do anything but wipe what little blood escaped the cut on his lip.

“I’m not gonna fight you brother,” Happy said, putting his hands up near his chest. “It would kill her to know we went at it. But I’m not gonna lie to you brother, I think I love her.”

Chibs was seething, he didn’t want to hear anything Happy had to say especially when it came to his daughter. His daughter who he loved with everything in his heart, who he so desperately wanted away from the club life, his little girl. He wanted to hit Happy again but knew that he was right it would tear Y/N up. So instead Chibs turned around in a huff and walked away from the group of men, storming in the direction of the office near the garage.

Y/N was sitting in the office with Gemma working on paperwork for the garage when the door opened. Both women looked up from their desks to look at the person who had opened the door, seeing Chibs standing in the doorway.

“Gem, can you give Y/N and I a minute?” he asked with very little emotion in his voice.

The older woman got up from her desk without a word, shooting Y/N a smirk and knowing look over her shoulder. Once the door closed behind her Chibs took a step forward towards his daughter.

“Y/N Telford, how could you not tell me?” her father growled out trying to keep himself from yelling.

Y/N was stunned for a moment. Her father had not talked to her like that since he caught her sneaking out of the house in high school. But she also had no idea what he was talking about, there was a lot that she didn’t let her father know simply because it would give him a heart attack if she did. And she let him know that.

“Dad, I don’t know what you’re talking about,”

“Don’t play fuckin’ dumb wit’ me. I know,” Chibs let out a long, angry breath. “I know your screwin’ Hap.”

Y/N looked at him stunned, “And? We’re dating, what’s the big deal?”

Chibs stood there with his mouth open, stunned himself. He wanted to yell at her but refrained, knowing there was probably already a crowd of bikers standing outside the door.

“He’s a goddamned Son, Y/N! He’s done things that most can’t come back from. He’s just no good for you.”

Y/N shook her head as she stood up from her desk chair. She wanted to meet her dads eye, show him that she’s still the spitfire that he had raised her to be.

“None of that fucking matters Dad. You’re a Son, you’ve done the same things and I never look at you any different.” She took a step closer, “So why the fuck does it matter that its Happy? He’s more than proven that he will be able to take care of me, to keep me safe. And he makes me so happy Dad, isn’t that all you’ve ever wanted for me to be happy?”

Y/N let out a shaky breath, trying to keep the tears from forming or falling. She didn’t want to argue with her dad especially not over something like this.

“Of course, I want you to be happy,” he nearly shouted, “But not with a Son, not with someone who could be putting you in danger.”

“This fuckin’ club is my family because of you and that’s why there’s always a chance that I’m in danger. So why shouldn’t I find a guy who can make me happy and protect me against the people that are after me because of you?” Y/N sighed as she looked at her father. He stood in the same spot with the same amount of rage behind his eyes. “Forget it, I’m not going to keep arguing with you.”

Y/N pushed her way past her father, catching his shoulder on her way to the door. She ripped the door open and watched a dozen men outside attempt to look busy as she stomped through the parking lot. No one attempted to stop her instead letting her storm to her car and peel out of the parking lot. Everyone cut their eyes to Chibs who still seemed to be fuming as the roar of a motorcycle’s engine roared through the air. Signaling Happy had decided to follow Y/N out of the parking lot.

Y/N slammed her front door as she walked into her house her anger at her father coming to the surface. She was livid with her father; he had no right to be that angry at her for dating someone. She wasn’t sixteen anymore, she was an adult who was completely capable of thinking for herself and making her own decisions. She didn’t need her father to tell her want to do anymore, so why he thought he was still able to was astonishing.

“Babe?” Happy’s voice sounded through the house, reaching Y/N in the kitchen and breaking her from her thoughts. However, she did not respond to him scared that if she did she would end up crying or screaming.

“Baby,” he tried one more time as he stepped foot into the kitchen. Once in the kitchen he saw Y/N leaning against her countertop with her eyes closed, practically shaking. As he moved into the kitchen Y/N didn’t react to her boyfriend, not until he was directly in front of her and pulling her into his arms.

“Why does he have to be such an ass?” Y/N mumbled into Happy’s chest as she wrapped her own arms around Happy’s torso.

“Because he wants what is best for his baby girl.” Happy rubbed his hand up and down Y/N’s back as she tightened her arms around him. “And I’m not that.”

Y/N looked up at Happy with wet eyes, the fear of him breaking up with her running through her mind, “But you are Hap, you’re the best guy I could ever ask for even if you are a little rough around the edges.”

Happy cracked a small smile before leaning down and pressing a kiss to her forehead. As he did he thought to himself that they were going to be okay, the two of them would get through this and Chibs would pull his head out of his ass eventually.

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apocalypticbadass · 4 years

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I F**king Love You

Not my photo!

A/N: hi friends! here’s my first post lol, yes it’s a smut if that tells you anything about me. this one’s pretty light because i had the idea at work and thought it was cute, but plenty more hardcore stuff is coming ;) there’s never enough Cullen smut out there, so hopefully i’ll have the drive to keep writing more. let me know if you guys like this, or if you have any requests, i would be so happy to take those!

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Description: Reader comes home from work exhausted, Emmett knows just how to fix her up and make her feel alright.

Warnings: Light smut, fluff, cursing, ur fav himbo Emmett Cullen.

Word Count: 1.72k

Masterlist

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Emmett cradled (y/n) in his arms as she groaned, her phone alarm shrilly announcing that it was time for her to get ready for work. The girl nearly slunk off of her and her boyfriend’s shared bed. After she slipped on jeans and a work shirt, she turned back to her vampire boyfriend. (Y/n) straddled him and tangled her fingers into his dark hair, pulling him in for a sloppy kiss.

“Fuck, I don’t want to go to work.”

“I’ll make it worth your while when you come back, beautiful.” Emmett said suggestively.

“Yes please. Need you to fuck me really good, I can’t wait to feel your cock inside me.” (Y/n) whined, now 100x more reluctant to go to work.

He smirked and let his mind wander for a moment. “That I can do, babygirl. Just be good for daddy and go to work for a few hours first, then this cock is all yours. ‘kay honey?”

She smiled humorously, pulling him in for one last kiss. “Yeah, yeah. If it’ll get me fucked real good I’ll do anything.”

Emmett’s massive hands gave her butt a quick squeeze. “Your ass looks bangin’ in those jeans, babe.”

“Thank you, bubba.” She giggled, kissing the tip of his nose sweetly. “I love you, I’m off.”

“I love you so much, sweetheart. Have a good shift.”

Even though (y/n) ended up having a pretty routine shift at work, her feet were killing her and everything seemed to be getting on her nerves today. She barely had the energy to walk out to her car. Tears began to prick her eyes as she thought about Emmett and how he was probably getting ready for her arrival. She knew for a fact that she was far too tired to have the sex she promised tonight, but wanted to avoid disappointing her boyfriend at all costs. (Y/n) shut the door of her car and drove home listening to the radio, trying not to be too upset. After driving all the way home on autopilot, she parked and entered hers and Emmett’s home, dumping her bags by the door. She trudged upstairs before sighing and pushing the bedroom door open slowly.

There he was. Emmett sat shirtless on their bed with a warm smile on his features, ready to welcome (y/n) home. The way his abs rippled as he perked up at the sound of her made the girl’s mouth water, but her eyes began to do the same.

“Baby? What’s wrong?” Emmett was at (y/n)’s side in a flash, picking his girlfriend up like a child and hooking his index finger under her chin so they were eye-to-eye. “Talk to me, sugar.”

(Y/n)‘s lip trembled before she spoke “Em, I’m really tired, too tired to have sex. But I’m so angry with myself because I really didn’t want to disappoint you and I know you were looking forward to sex and I promised sex so I feel terrible not following through and I-”

Emmett cut her off gently with a sweet kiss, they could both taste the tears that had begun to stream down (y/n)‘s cheeks. “Sweetheart, please calm down. I’m not disappointed in the slightest. You really think I would be mad because you stood up for yourself and changed your mind? It was simply an incentive to go to work, just so if you needed something to look forward to, I would be there. We can have sex another time, my love, we do it almost every day.” He chuckled, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear and wiping tears away.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right. It was just stressing me out because the amount I want you isn’t even funny, I just don’t have the physical energy tonight.”

You could almost see the lightbulb that turned on above Emmett’s head. “I have an idea. If you’re stressed and you still want me to make you cum, I would be happy to put my mouth to work. Only if you want me to, of course.”

The change in (y/n)’s heartbeat and breathing told the vampire right away what her answer was. However, she wouldn’t give it to him that easy. “But then you’re not getting anything out of it! That’s what I’m upset about, I promised you pleasure and I didn’t deliver.”

“Are you kidding me? You think eating your pussy isn’t pleasurable for me? I could prolly cream my pants just eating you out and listening to the noises you make for me.”

(Y/n)’s eyes widened and her jaw fell slack. “That’s the hottest thing you’ve ever said.”

He smirked. “Is that a yes, princess?”

“Yes please, Em, that would be so nice.”

Emmett gave her a quick eskimo kiss and they teamed up to remove all of (y/n)’s clothing, besides her panties. He flashed her a wide grin before gently flipping her onto her stomach. His strong hands massaged circles down her back as he kissed her neck. She moaned almost immediately as his fingers worked the stress out of her body. Emmett’s thumbs came to circle the small of her back as he sucked marks into her shoulder blades. He cupped her butt with his two hands and felt that for a moment before placing her on her back and pressing his lips to hers.

“I love you so much.” He murmured, trailing his lips down her neck and collarbones, stopping for a moment to pay some attention to each nipple. He truly was the king of foreplay, making sure she was completely turned on before they started anything. As his lips made contact with (y/n)’s hipbones, his thick fingers brushed against her clothed core. He could feel just how soaked she was, and he internally jumped with excitement. No matter how many times he got the pleasure of making her feel this way, Emmett still reflected on how lucky he was that the beautiful woman underneath him loved and trusted him with her whole body. He was sure to never disappoint.

Emmett’s hand gripped her hips lightly, and he used his thumbs to stroke the skin underneath (y/n)’s waistband, teasing her slightly, before gently pulling them down her legs and off of her. His large hands smoothed out her inner thighs and spread her legs. He paused for a moment to take in the beautiful view in front of him, her pussy glistening and ready for his mouth.

“Emmett?”

“Yes ma’am?” “Would you please hold my hand?”

Emmett’s un-beating heart simply burst with love at this moment in time. “Of course I will, kitten.”

The fingers on Emmett’s right hand intertwined themselves with those on (y/n)’s left, and he placed his other hand on her hips to steady her.

He kissed her thighs a few times before licking a stripe directly up the center of her folds and plunging his tongue deep inside of her. This earned him a breathy groan, sending a jolt straight to his cock. He hadn't realized how hard he was until this moment, but stuck it out of his mind. He would be damned if he let anything get in the way of him giving his woman a mind-blowing orgasm tonight. (Y/n)’s free hand dipped into Emmett’s dark hair, pulling at it’s roots and scratching his scalp. The vampire moaned into the touch, sending vibrations through (y/n)’s pussy. He wrapped his lips around her clit and began to lick, suck, and nip at the bundle of nerves, quickly making her fall apart underneath his touch. Emmett continued building up the pressure, pushing the girl closer to her orgasm with every move.

“Fuck, Em, please. Please, God, don't stop.” Emmett smirked into her pussy and continued at a fervent pace, noticing again how his cock ached as she said his name. He realized how true his earlier statement was about to be, as he neared his own orgasm. “Jesus Christ, baby, please! I'm so close, fuck!”

This was all it took to send them both over the edge. (Y/n) squirted all over her boyfriend’s face, and he wasted no time lapping it all up and coaxing her through her orgasm. Emmett did, in fact, cream his pants listening to the way his name fell off of her lips and feeling her tug on his curls. “Look what you did to me, babygirl.” He chuckled sheepishly and pulled his sweats down to reveal his grey boxers. A dark spot was prominent on the front of them.

“Fuck, that’s really hot.” She smiled, eyelids half-closed, sleep fighting to overcome her.

“Ah ah, no sleep yet, honey. Go use the bathroom first, no UTI’s for you.”

“God, you’re such a good boyfriend.” She smiled, cupping his cheek, which was soaked in her own arousal. “Come with me and I’ll clean off your face for you. And your dick.” (Y/n) giggled, grabbing him a clean pair of boxers and herself one of Emmett’s smallest t-shirts, which (of course) she was still swimming in. She took his hand and dragged him into the bathroom, where she pressed herself into his bare chest and wrapped her arms around his neck.

“Look in the mirror, we look hot as hell.” His big hands slid down her back to squeeze her ass, making her laugh.

“We sure do.” He gave her a dirty kiss and slid his shirt over her body, removing his sweats and underwear as she went to go pee. Emmett used a cloth to first clean his face. Before he could reach for his cock to wipe it off, his girlfriend rushed over and sunk to her knees in front of him. Her doe eyes never left his as she sucked the cum off of his member, leaving it spotless. Emmett’s jaw dropped and he had to fight in order to not get hard again. (Y/n) tugged the boxers from his hand and tapped his ankles, asking him to step into them. She pulled them up and dropped the band low on his waist, dragging her hands up his chest before she kissed him.

“I fucking love you.” Emmett said, carrying her off to bed.

“I fucking love you more.”

#emmet cullen #emmett cullen smut #twilight #new moon #eclipse #breaking dawn #midnight sun #cullen #smut #the cullens #twilight imagine #emmett cullen x reader #emmett cullen imagine

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fuckyeahisawthat · 3 years

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Have you been asked yet to rank Trust eps? Cos I'm asking! But your the criteria for ranking I leave to you to decide.

Ahahahaha I’ll have you know I put way too much thought into this. :-D

Ok so first of all, there is no such thing as a bad episode of Trust. The whole thing is really tightly written, every character and plot thread has a purpose, and even the episodes that I haven’t watched over and over again are important to the overall story. And a lot of the impact of the show comes from things that are cumulative over multiple episodes.

That being said, I do have favorites. Since the definitive ranking of Primo’s outfits has already been taken care of, here is my ranking from least to most favorite based on some nebulous criteria of artistic/narrative effectiveness and emotional impact, my judgement of which is obviously highly subjective and also correct.

Under the cut because this got ummm unbelievably, ridiculously long.

10. The House of Getty (episode 1)

Sorry Danny Boyle and Simon Beaufoy, the pilot is my least favorite episode. Still think it was the wrong choice to open with a flashy (and, I can tell, expensive) sequence showcasing the death of a character we literally never see again. And, look, I’m an impatient viewer. If I don’t get someone to root for/emotionally identify with/otherwise catch my interest early on in a narrative, I’ll tune out. And Old Paul is not only unlikeable--far from a mortal sin in dramatic storytelling--he’s boring. I don’t care about any of his rich people problems, and I’m not the kind of viewer who can be kept engaged just by hating someone and watching them be terrible.

Some of the secondary characters in the Getty household do have interesting plotlines, but we don’t get to learn very much about them in the first episode. And I do think things get interesting once Little Paul shows up (although I maintain that the whole episode is more interesting if we understand what the stakes are for Paul getting the money), but if I had started watching this show with no context I wouldn’t have made it past Old Paul’s pre-coital erotica listening routine.

If this had been anything other than the first episode I might not have ranked it last, but extra penalty points for leading with your least interesting characters.

9. Lone Star (episode 2)

This episode is, I think, saddled by the fact that it has to do a lot of heavy lifting in terms of exposition and setup. It mostly works because Chace is an entertaining narrator, and once we get to Italy with Gail I think things zip along at a pretty good pace. Opens with an attempted rape to show how Bad the Bad Guys are, which is...not my favorite trope.

Once again, I think a lot of the information in this episode would have worked better if episode 3 had been episode 1. (We’d already know who Berto was when Chace meets him; we’d already know about the box of guns in the apartment; we’d know when certain characters are lying.) This whole show runs on the suspense of the audience being the only party who knows what’s going on with all the characters at once; I think trading mystery for suspense here was the wrong move. I also can’t help thinking there was pressure to front-load the well-known American actors in the beginning of the show at the expense of the strongest narrative choices.

Imo the best thing about this episode is the sort of...multiple competing images of Paul that emerge. His mom sees him as an innocent victim who couldn’t possibly have planned any of this. Chace sees him as a spoiled rich kid trying to swindle his granddad. Neither one of them has the complete truth.

Next we get into some episodes that are certainly not bad, but their greatness is more on the level of some bangin’ individual scenes than a whole package.

8. John, Chapter 11 (episode 6)

Again, this isn’t a bad episode. The main reason I put it near the end of the list is that the first time through I got sort of impatient during the first half. We, the audience, by virtue of our extra-textual knowledge, know that Paul can’t be dead, and we spend about half the episode before we know what really happened to him, which felt a bit too long to me.

This episode does have some fantastic individual scenes including: Leo talking Primo down in the farmhouse, Leo and Paul’s conversation about Angelo’s death, Gail being an absolute badass, and the meeting between Salvatore and Old Paul. A lot of these scenes are essential on a thematic level, but I don’t think the episode as a whole is the most streamlined.

7. Consequences (episode 10)

I debated for a while where to put this episode because the overall feeling of 57 Chekov’s guns going off in the space of one episode is SO satisfying, and the resolutions of some of the individual plotlines are delicious. Ultimately I would have liked more space for Paul and Gail and less Old Paul being grumpy about his substitute child museum’s mediocrity (although the scene with the bad reviews is hilarious). Once again I feel like the show creators felt they had to pull the focus back to Old Paul to wrap things up and I just. don’t care.

That being said. The resolution of Primo’s storyline? SO SATISFYING. And tbh I don’t dislike the scenes that exist with Paul and Gail; even the happy scenes have this poignant tone to them. I think they were trying to deal with the fact that his irl story is just...incredibly fucking tragic, and you can see a bit of the strain showing.

6. Kodachrome (episode 7)

I know episode 7 is not one of your personal favorites, but it’s the one where I think jumping between multiple plotlines/sets of characters is used to the most satisfying dramatic effect. It has this sense of dramatic irony that feels like some Shakespearean family tragedy. The whole episode, we are hoping that Paul Jr. will finally do the thing we want him to do, which is stand up to his father. And he does it--but at the absolute worst, most selfish and destructive moment possible.

Paul Jr. may be the literal worst, but I do have compassion for him in the flashbacks, mostly because it seems painfully apparent that no matter what he does, he will never be able to please his father. But he doesn’t seem to realize this, and he keeps trying, even as it’s destroying him and his relationship with his family. Credit to Michael Esper for his performance for making me feel a smidgen of compassion for this bastard.

I think the other thing this episode shows is how both of Paul’s parents keep putting him, a child, into roles and circumstances that he shouldn’t really be in. He’s wandering around through what seem like very much adult environments with his dad and Talitha in Morocco. In the Trust version of events he’s there when Talitha ODs and is the one trying to revive her while his dad is having a breakdown in the corner. Gail seems like the more responsible parent but there’s something about her bringing Paul as her “date” on a night out, and the understanding that this is a thing that happens regularly...to me the disturbing part is not so much bringing a young kid to a party with adults but the unspoken expectation that Little Paul will fill the void of companionship that his father has left empty. (Gettys expecting Little Paul to step in to cover for the failings of his father is a repeated theme, and it even plays into the ear thing. His family has failed to pay the ransom, so this is now a problem he has to solve himself.) Combine this all with Leonardo going, um, excuse me but what the actual fuck is wrong with your family? and I think it makes a very effective episode. And the last couple minutes had me yelling NOOOOOOOO GODDAMMIT because you can see what’s going to happen and you’re just watching it unfolding like a car wreck. Also has one of my hands-down favorite scenes, of Paul and Primo in the car waiting for the ransom.

5. White Car in a Snowstorm (episode 9)

The ~ D R A M A !!! ~ This episode is an opera. I mean this whole show is dramatique but episode 9 really leans into the vivid imagery--that snowy highway in the mountains above the sea, the all-white ransom exchange, Paul clinging to the pole at the shuttered Getty gas station, some Very Serious Mobsters throwing the ransom money around like idiots in a moment where you’re encouraged to be happy along with them.

This is also one of my favorite episodes for Primo and for Primo and Paul’s weird sometimes-alliance. Primo walking away from Salvatore to go tell Paul “they always pay in the end”? Primo and Paul teaming up to argue with Salvatore about why Paul shouldn’t die? Primo being all threateny to the doctor treating Paul because somewhere deep down he is worried (that’s my take and you’ll never convince me otherwise)? Primo dressing up to fake-scab on a postal strike in order to find a misplaced severed ear? All gold.

Fun fact: the letter Gail writes to President Nixon did happen in real life, but as far as I can tell the phone call did not. The real details of who convinced Old Paul to finally pay (some) of the ransom are considerably less cinematic. They’re the same amount of sexist though!

Ok now we are getting to the top tier...

4. That’s All Folks! (episode 4)

This is definitely the episode that took me from “ok this is fun” to “oh holy shit I’m invested now.” It’s the episode where we get introduced to most of the Calabrian characters and their world. It’s also the episode where we start to realize that Primo is not just a fun antagonist but is really a parallel protagonist to Little Paul, with his own set of relationships and motivations that we start to see from his POV. (I’d argue that, with the exception of his very first scene, we’ve mostly seen Primo through other characters’ gaze up until episode 4, and this is the point where we start watching him as like, the character whose pursuit of a goal we’re following over the course of the scene.)

This episode ranks high for capturing so much of the weird mix of tones that makes Trust work. It can be very funny. (I never fail to fuckin lose it when Fifty is on the phone with Gail the first time and when he’s talking to the thoroughly unimpressed newspaper switchboard operator.) It has this weird unexpected intimacy between characters you wouldn’t think would connect with each other. (Primo and Paul, Paul and Angelo; in retrospect the arc of the relationship between Primo and Leo gets started in that scene in Salvatore’s kitchen.) And it has one of the show’s absolute best record-scratch tone shifts when Primo gets the ransom offer. I remember saying “oh FUCK” out loud the first time I watched the end of that episode, when Primo comes back to the house, visibly drunk and clearly furious. We’ve seen him be violent plenty before now in the show, but always in a controlled, calculated way. This is the first time we see his potential for out-of-control rage-fueled violence and he’s terrifying!

3. La Dolce Vita (episode 3)

I stand by my claim that this episode (with a few minor continuity adjustments) should have been the pilot. Can you imagine a title card that’s like “Rome 1973” and then away we go with Paul snorting coke and taking racy photos and jumping on cops and fucking his girlfriend in what is definitely not proper museum etiquette, and then the smash cut to Primo intimidating and robbing and murdering people? And that’s the opening of the whole show? And you’re like how are these characters connected and then they meet each other and it’s the fucking sunflower field scene??

Anyway aside from the fact that I think knowing the information in this episode would have made episodes 1 and 2 more interesting...it’s just a great fucking episode. It’s kinetic and propulsive and funny and tense and violent and features Primo’s sniper skills and his ass in those cornflower blue trousers. I rest my case.

2. Silenzio (episode 5)

I’ll be honest, I went back and forth on the top two a bunch. Silenzio is definitely my personal favorite episode, and I’d argue that it’s the best written, in terms of what it accomplishes narratively, which is to keep you emotionally invested in both Paul and Angelo trying to escape with their lives, and Primo and Leonardo hunting them down. That’s so fucking hard!! And yes some of it is great acting but it starts from the foundation of the writing. It’s just such a perfect little self-contained horror movie, and it has this profound sense of fatalism to it, because you know from the beginning (if only by virtue of only being halfway through the series) that Paul is not going to escape, and you sort of know that there is only one way this will end for Angelo. And yet they escape by the skin of their teeth so! many! times!

It’s also the episode where you see how much power the ‘Ndrangheta has over people’s lives in this community: Salvatore is like God, calling his servants to him with the church bells. Combine that with the visuals of two characters running for their lives mostly on foot through this unforgiving landscape, and you really get the sense of this environment as a harsh place where most people have a very constrained set of choices, and the claustrophobia of that. You get the sense in this episode that everyone is trapped in these expectations of violence and duty and honor. Angelo did what anyone with compassion would do, and saved Paul from what seemed like certain death, and he’s doomed for it. At the same time Primo is doing exactly what anyone would expect him to do in response to a subordinate who disobeyed him. In some ways the end of the episode feels inevitable, unsurprising, and yet they do SUCH a good job of winding up the tension until the literal last seconds of the episode, and then releasing it with a big dramatic bang. It’s so good!!

1. In the Name of the Father (episode 8)

Ok I’ll be honest the ONLY reason In the Name of the Father edged out Silenzio for the top spot is that it is really clear they pulled out all the stops in terms of making this episode feel extra heightened in a show where everything is already heightened. Like, the cinematography is different? They still use handheld a lot but I swear there are more still shots and more extreme, editorial camera angles like that shot of Francesco looking upward in church where the camera is looking down from above him. I can’t tell if they actually tweaked the color grading or if the bright white and blood red just stand out against the Calabrian color palette which is mostly earth tones, browns and greens and blues.

There are just. So many layers to this episode. The imagery! The literal sacrificial lamb at the beginning, Francesco being guided by Leonardo through an act of violence against an animal, something that I’m sure they don’t even see as violence but just part of farm life, part of survival and in this case part of a celebration, but something that fathers teach their sons how to do as part of becoming a man in this world. Paul as the metaphorical sacrificial lamb later, drawing parallels to Jesus (the lamb of God), Isaac (a father sacrificing his son), any number of martyred saints, pick your Catholic imagery. The blood of the lamb on the tree stump and Paul’s blood on the stone. The communion wafer (the body and blood of Christ) and Francesco at the end with Paul’s blood and a literal piece of his body held in his hands the same way.

And then there is like, the suspense of watching everyone marking time through the steps of this community ritual that’s supposed to be a joyful, communal celebration, while we know that there is a secret ticking away under the surface. The slow unfolding of the lie told to one person spreading to everyone in the village, and then the knowledge that Salvatore knows spreading to all the people who’ll be in trouble for that. The relationship arcs between the main Calabrian characters...not resolving, but sliding into place for the final act. Primo finally being done with Salvatore. Primo and Leo’s alliance being cemented and Leo physically stepping between Primo and Salvatore, to protect Primo. (No one ever protects Primo!! Still not over it!!!!) The confirmation celebration as a mirror of the Getty party in episode 1, the parallels drawn between the 3 Pauls and Salvatore-Primo-Francesco and how Primo reacts to being passed over as heir vs. how Paul Jr. reacts. Little Paul having two whole minutes of screen time and managing to break your heart with them. Regina! Just...Regina’s whole everything. The music going all-instrumental for an episode and having this haunting, dreamlike but still tense quality to it. And the fact that we never cut away from Calabria to another plotline gives the whole episode this hypnotic, all-encompassing quality. It’s just. SO GOOD!!!!

#fadagaski #asks answered #trust fx #long post #so so long omg #i can't believe how long i spent writing this but HERE IT IS #trust alternate watch order

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arsonforcharlie · 4 years

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would you be willing to drop a recipe for that bangin’ okra tomatillo curry? it sounds bomb

ok so heads up this is not much of a recipe- like, this is one of the things i make that i just sorta do whatever with. i’ve made it with paneer before and it fucking ruled. tonight, i might add some ground beef since that was hella cheap at the supermarket this week. who knows. i am pretty sure this is not faithful to, like, any cuisine. this is literally just me putting things in a pan and going “ehhhhh tastey and will not kill me probably.” absolute bachelor food. one pan, one utensil, cooks up pretty quick. i’m a mess. also spices in particular i don’t tend to measure because i am pretty okay at going

ingredience

oil (i use either olive or vegetable depending on which is closer to my hand at the time. it doesn’t really matter too much. maybe you could use butter. i’ve never tried. live your best life)

onion (chopped)

turmeric

tomatillos (however many the farmer at the market gives you. husked and rinsed so they’re not sticky. cut in quarters or eighths depending on the size of the tomatillo.)

okra (again, however much you have. this is why you gotta make friends with the farmers! slice it in bits of about a half inch or so but this is not an exact science)

tomatoes (about two decent handfuls worth. chopped.)

whatever hot peppers are on sale at the grocery. i think mine are serrano right now. (chopped.)

ginger (a wee bit. you can use fresh or ground.)

garam masala

how to do it

in a large skillet (my big frying pan is like 12 inches and not super deep and it’s usually a SQUEEZE, i’d use my wok if it wasn’t fucked up) heat about a tablespoon of the oil to medium. add in the onions and a decent amount of turmeric. cook them for about 5 minutes or so.

add tomatillos and okra. stir it up, cook that, stirring when you remember, until the tomatillos start to soften and it looks a bit more like a curry than a whole bunch of veggies. this can take 5-10 minutes depending on your tomatillos.

add in the tomatoes, peppers, ginger, garam masala, and about a quarter of a cup of water. maybe a bit of salt. stir, bring down to low heat, simmer until the okra is nice and most of the water is gone.

make rice or whatever. serve with rice or whatever.

that’s it, it’s relatively easy, tastes awesome, great for when i’m feeling low energy, and a good way to use the tomatillos i keep buying

#food #oh shit i have a food blog i guess i should put this there #parpatarts

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parisian-nicole · 4 years

Text

Adore: A Garvez Fic (Pt. 10/?)

Read the Previous Chapter here: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13117133/8/Adore-A-GarVez-Fic

***

Author’s Note: Now that Garvez is canon and endgame, I have been inspired to start working on this fic again. I hope you enjoy and please let me know what you think!

***

They had stayed in the park after the fundraising race had ended and their friends had said their goodbyes. They walked about slowly and enjoyed the warm day, and watching all the people having fun around them, but mostly they enjoyed each other's company. They had been laughing and talking about everything that had come to their minds. Whenever other runners came across their path they would hurriedly step aside, huddling together to the grassy side of the graveled path. When a small group of women ran by them, all eyeing Alvez appreciatively while ignoring Garcia's presence entirely, Alvez noticed how Garcia would distance herself from where she had been walking right at his side. He frowned up a bit at her sudden coldness towards him. After a moment to reflect he realized where it was coming from. So, when Alvez noticed that same group of women had done a U-turn and were coming back through the path he made it a point to stop in the middle of the path. He grasped Garcia's hand, lifted it and placed a kiss across her knuckles. He then pulled her flush against his chest and kissed her lips slowly, deeply, and sweetly, while the group of women ran around them. For a moment they had both gotten lost in the feel and taste of the other. They finally pulled back with a sated sigh falling from both of their lips.

"Wow," She spoke as a bashful smile graced her face. "What was that for?" She continued as she bowed her head a bit to avoid his eyes, but he was having none of it. He reached down, cupped her face in both of his hands, and made her focus up at him.

"That was to show you how much I want to be here with 'you'," He answered. "I want you, no one else. Those women could run pass here completely naked and I still wouldn't give them any regard," He proclaimed and Garcia arched her brow to challenged his words. "Okay, not in any sexual or romantic regard," He corrected with a smile. "But I am an officer of the law so I would have to arrest them for being indecent. Look, I don't know about all of the past relationship you've been in but I can promise that I am nothing like any of those guys, so please don't compare me to them. Or judge me and our relationship by what may have happened to you in the past, okay?"

"Okay," Garcia agreed with a nod. "I will try and I'm sorry … It's just that," She paused as she dropped her eyes to the ground and took a deep sigh. "Guys that look like you don't usually go for the girls that look like me."

"Says who?"

"Says every guy I have ever met who looks like you," She replied.

"Well they were all stupid fools," Alvez declared. "And for your information, I find voluptuous women sexy as hell."

"Oh really, so you have only ever asked out plump women?"

"No, not just," He answered. "I have been attracted to a variety of women of all shapes, sizes, and color. And I've never excluded a woman because she's, as you put it, 'plump'," He defended. "Look, Penelope, I think you have a beautiful bangin' body but it's not the only thing that attracted me to you. I mean, yeah, initially it was. I did try desperately not to gawk when this gorgeous blonde bombshell shared the elevator with me on my first day. But then I got to know her, though she tried her damnedest to keep me at arm's length. I fell in love not just with your body, but also that genius mind of yours, your deliciously wicked wit, as well has your humongous kind heart," Garcia stood silently staring up at him with her mouth agape and a shocked look on her face. "Yeah, you heard me right," Alvez continued as he gripped his hands securely about her waist. "I've fallen in love with you, and it's okay if you don't feel the same or-"

"I've fallen in love with you too," She quickly cut in and her words brought a relief within Alvez and a wide smile to his lips.

"So, I guess that would make us an official couple then?" Alvez questioned still not wanting to over step any boundaries with her, but he truly wanted to know.

"All the things we did last night and part of the morning pretty much made it official, Luke," Garcia proclaimed and his smile simply widened at this news.

"Good to know," He said with a nod as he turned her, wrapped an arm around her shoulders, and moved them back along the path they were on. "How about we head back to your place and make it official some more?"

"Race you to the car," She said around a giggle and then took off at full speed. Alvez took off after her and although he knew he could have beaten her, he was enjoying the view too much to try.

The next work day:

The team had finally wrapped up a local case they had been working on for over a week, and hoped they would get a few days of doing just some mundane desk work before some new case came in to take them across the country.

"So, who's up for drinks? My treat," Rossi offered as they all stood around the desks in the bullpen.

"I'm down," Tara was the first to reply. "It's been awhile since we got to get out of here during normal hours, plus free drinks, yay," She joked as the others, save Prentiss, laughed and nodded in agreement.

"I'm in too," JJ chimed in. "Will and the boys are still visiting his family in New Orleans until tomorrow."

"I can't, sorry," Reid said as he stood and started to pack up his bag to leave. "I have a couple of visitation hours remaining today and so I am going to go see my mom."

"Send her my love and remind her that I will be coming this Wednesday so we can work on our knitting," Garcia said as she rested her backside against Alvez's desk as he sat in his chair beside her.

"I will, she really enjoys and looks forward to your visits," He stated. "Goodnight," Reid then made his way to the exit.

"All right, that's three of us so far, since Prentiss has an evening meeting with the director," Rossi said. "So, how about you two?" He then looked to Garcia and Alvez.

"I can't either," Garcia replied. "I still have work to do here."

"What work?" Alvez asked as he frowned up a bit. He was disappointed as he had hoped she was turning down hanging out to spend some alone time with him. "We wrapped our case already."

"Oh, newbie," She teased and he couldn't contain the smile that spread across his face at hearing the word he had confessed to her would slightly arouse him whenever she said it. "Do you really think I am only at your beck and call? I am an 'FBI' technical analyst, and I help all departments with my skills. So, when any agent needs my help I am at their service."

"Oh, I like the sound of that, Belle," A male voice with a southern drawl and a hint of a Cajun accent, boomed from behind where they stood chatting. "So, does that mean 'any' services I need help with?" He added with a wink and a smile. Both Tara and JJ giggled a little as they were familiar with this agents' antics, but more so they were laughing at the sour look that was on Alvez's face in that moment.

"Only if they're work-related services, Agent Broussard," Garcia replied as she pushed herself from Alvez's desk.

"Well, a man can still dream, right, Cherie?" Agent Broussard asked with a charming smile.

"Yes, and it also saves me the trouble of telling you, "only in your dreams'," She threw back at him as she smiled playfully at him.

"Oh, how you wound me," He said dramatically as he raised one of his hands which held 2 drinks up to his chest. "And I had even brought you dinner and drinks to woo you," He added as he raised the other hand to show what looked to be a bag of Chinese takeout and Garcia, Tara, and JJ all giggled and shook their heads slightly to his antics. Alvez's current scowl instantly turned into a hard glare as he looked at this slightly younger man who appeared to be his same height and build.

"Hey, I'm working off hours just to help you out, so feeding me is the least you could do, sir," Garcia stated as she moved to where he stood. "Let's go to my office. The sooner we start the sooner we can get it done," He bowed dramatically at her as she stopped at his side and again, she giggled. Besides Morgan, Broussard had been the only other agent who would openly flirt with her. Unlike Morgan she was sure that Broussard meant every word and that it wasn't just banter to him. If given the chance he would happily act upon every lewd innuendo he spoke to her. But she also knew of the many rendezvouses he had had with several female agents which made Garcia steer clear of him. She didn't mind the flirting and easy banter, but she never let it venture into a personal realm as she had with Morgan. As they moved to the exit Alvez quickly moved from his seat.

"Hey Penelope," He called out to her purposely using her first name as he hurried over to her. She stood just on the other side of the glass door that she held open while she waited for him. "I'm going to be working down here late anyway, so just call me when you get done. We can grab some snacks, head to my place tonight, and watch a movie," A Cheshire cat grin graced her lips as she quickly nodded her head.

"Okay," She said as she gazed adoringly up at him, both were so engrossed in the other that everyone and everything else seemed to fade away, until Agent Broussard who had stood a few feet outside of the door cleared his throat a little. "Oh, right, uhm … Well, what I have to do to help Agent Broussard shouldn't take more than an hour or two. I can just come back down here when we're done."

"All right, I'll be here waiting for you," Alvez stated as he shot a glance to the man standing behind her just before he swooped in and placed a quick chaste kiss on her lips.

"Luke, we agreed not at work," She chastised him in a lowered voice even though the pleased look and smile never left her face.

"Technically, we are off work now so it's okay," He offered as he tossed her a wink. She silently nodded and then walked out and continued on her way with Agent Broussard. Alvez stood at the door watching them for a moment.

"So, exactly when did that start?" Rossi questioned as he arched a brow at JJ and Tara.

"Oh, I think just this past weekend," JJ answered with a smile as she watched Alvez who was making his way back to them.

"Damn, I owe Prentiss twenty bucks," Rossi said around a chuckle.

"Wait you and Prentiss had a bet running on when Garcia and Alvez would hook up?" Tara asked.

"Say what, now?" Alvez chimed in as he now stood back at his desk.

"Well, yeah, watching you two sometimes is like watching softcore porn," Rossi claimed and the ladies nodded their heads in agreement and Alvez chuckled at this news. "We knew it would eventually explode into something more hardcore, but I was thinking in another couple of years, but Prentiss was sure you two wouldn't last out the year," He ended with a shrug. "Oh well, ladies, shall we?" He moved in between where they stood at their desks and held out his arms to them. With a smile they each looped one of their arms in his and allowed him to move them to the exit. "Goodnight, Luke."

"Night," Both Tara and JJ said in unison.

"Goodnight and have fun, but not too much, we're back at it first thing in the morning," Alvez said as he watched his friends and co-workers walk out. He then turned with a sigh and started working on some paperwork. All the while his mind kept drifting to Garcia and Broussard, as he thought about what they were doing alone in her office.

Later that night:

"Mmhmm … it would … mmm … work better if you … hmm … stopped kissing and groping me," She panted out around his tasteful and near mind numbing kisses.

"But … mhm … you taste and feel … mmm … mmm … too damn good," He replied and then latched his mouth back against hers while his hands caressed and squeezed at her body, which he had pinned to his locked front door.

"Mr. Alvez," The screechy voice of an elderly woman snapped the lovers back to reality and they quickly jumped apart.

"Mrs. Torres," He replied as he wiped at his lips as if trying to hide the evidence of what they had been doing.

"You should be a shame of yourself young man, carrying on like that in the halls. There are children in this building, you know. And young lady you should have more self-respect and self-control," Mrs. Torres said as she shifted her eyes from Alvez to Garcia, and Garcia bowed her head a bit under the other woman's heavy gaze.

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Torres. I promise it won't happen again," Alvez rambled out as he made quick work of unlocking his door and pushing it open. He ushered Garcia inside first.

"You see that it doesn't," They heard the older woman speak out as they crossed the threshold and shut the door behind them. Alvez, quickly locked the door and then rested his back against it as if afraid Mrs. Torres would come through to get them. He watched Garcia's back as she stood slightly hunched over with her head down. "I'm sorry about that, I didn't mean to embarrass you," He began to apologize but then heard Garcia's soft laughter and noticed how her shoulders shook from it. A smile instantly spread across his face when she finally turned to face him with the hugest smile on her own face. "Well, I'm glad you think it's funny. Mrs. Torres met my mother the first time she visited me, and they have become great friends ever since. She's probably home calling my mother right now to let her know her niñito was accosting some woman in the hallway," He chuckled out though he was being serious. He reached into his pocket, grasped his phone, and shut it off before he tossed it on the table by the door. He didn't want their night interrupted by a call from his mother which he was sure was on its way, thanks to Mrs. Torres.

"First we get busted by a cop and now your elderly neighbor," Garcia giggled out. "And why are you so ravenous all of a sudden, that you couldn't wait until we got inside?" She questioned as she regarded him with a smile.

"Because I have a gorgeous and sexy girlfriend," He answered as his eyes involuntarily raked over her form appreciatively, which brought a deep blush to her cheeks.

"And it had nothing to do with Remy?" She continued and he frowned up a bit in confusion and the look made her rephrase the question. "Agent Broussard."

"Oh, Agent 'Remy' Broussard, is it? Alvez countered. "So, you two are on a first name basis?

"Oh my God, are you jealous, Luke?" Garcia questioned him in a teasing fashion.

"What? Hell, no," He spat out unconvincingly. "Should I be?" He asked and his insecurity shown through his demeanor and tone.

"No, you shouldn't be because I only have eyes for you," She said with a more serious tone that she hoped spoke to how true she was being with him in that moment. He smiled and nodded his understanding. "But I have to tell you, you kind of suck at the whole sneaking around and making out stuff. I mean, c'mon, caught twice in one week," she went back to teasing him.

"Then I probably need to practice more," Alvez offered as he waggled his brows at her "Lots and lots of practice," He added as he rushed to her and enveloped her into his strong embrace. He traced his right hand that was grabbing her ass, up her back until he grasped the clasp of the zipper to her dress and pulled it down. Too impatient to get it all the way down, he quickly moved the same hand to her left shoulder and tugged down the top of the dress along with her hot pink satin bra strap. He then leaned down and latched his hot mouth over her left nipple before the cool air got the chance to chill it. He suckled her greedily as if she gave him nourishment to live.

"Luke," She gasped out as her eyes closed, her mouth fell open and her head back, while she gripped at the back of his head with her left hand. "God, that feels so good," She moaned out as her head fell forward and she rested her cheek against the top of his head while she snuggled him close to her bosom. When she noticed the familiar sound of a distant ringtone, she snapped her eyes open and shoved at Alvez to release her, which he was not too willing to do, and instead clutched at her more tightly. "Luke, let go, that's work calling," She hissed out and he instantly let her go, and she rushed to grab the phone from her purse that had been tossed to the floor with the bags of snacks they had bought.

Alvez stood silently watching as Garcia spoke with Prentiss. He raked his hands through his slightly tussled hair in slight frustration because he knew they had a case and they would have to likely put off their love making session. When she ended the call, Garcia turned to him again. "Let me guess we have a case, wheels up in 30, and I'll have to get a rain check on tonight?" He nearly grumbled out.

"Yes, we have a case. But wheels up in 1 hour, which gives you 10, 15 minutes tops to get us both to happy land," She replied as she arched a brow and smirked up at him. "Are you up for the challenge Agent Alvez?"

"Oh yeah, challenge accepted," He said with a sultry smile and a nod. He quickly pulled his shirt over his head and off his torso and then moved back to her. He already knew which technique he would use to give her a mind-blowing orgasm in under 3 minutes, which would leave them plenty of time to shower and head back into work.

More to come....

Read of FF.net: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13117133/9/Adore-A-GarVez-Fic

#Garvez #garvez fic #GarvezCanon #Garvez4eva #Garcia x Alvez #Penelope Garcia #Luke Alvez #Criminal Minds

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haruki-ya · 6 years

Text

Precious Equilibrium

Summary: Tetsuo has always looked to Kaneda for comfort. Largely because Kaneda knows him well enough to give without having to be asked. Similarly because he knows what Tetsuo needs when he himself doesn’t.

A/N: Fair warning, this is p gay. It’s more subtle than anything honestly, maybe lowkey unrequited but you gotta look deep into the parallels here....fridge you know what I’m talking bout. Also, continuity?? From movie, manga, or even in reference to my other story which this is picking up from? ? Yeah none of that here lol

Tetsuo is bored.

From the open window of Kaneda’s flat, he can hear the distant rumble of cars in the street below. The synthetic voice of a holo-advertisement programmed to drone on about tonight's special lottery wins has talked through its fifth cycle. Footsteps are pacing on the floor above him.

A fly buzzes by his ear.

How annoying.

The old woman in the apartment parallel fell asleep with some gaudy soap opera on her giant T.V., a cheesy melodrama that Tetsuo can imagine Kai and Kaneda would find entertainment in assigning character backstories and devious plot twists while watching through her window. Tetsuo can all too vividly imagine his own brain melting if he watched anymore than he sees through darting glances.

If it isn’t already melted, that is.

He’s been staring at the ceiling for an awfully long time now.

Kaneda has gone to fetch bandages, clean ones to change the wrap around Tetsuo’s head which pulses in time with his heartbeat, aches something fierce that even the two capsules Kaneda had begrudgingly forked over doesn’t mask.

His eye twitches thinking about a brain aneurysm, blood clot, tissue damage. Maybe he’s dying, but honestly he’s probably okay (if he ever has been okay.)

There’s an unfamiliar feeling in his body though, something new but not quite foreign. Like a cold: his body is thrown out of homeostasis, navigating a new set of conditions. Only slightly different than normal. He really doesn’t know how to explain it, tried as much with Kaneda and ended up being laughed at.

Whatever. He’s too stupid to understand anyhow.

Tetsuo doesn’t feel quite right though and it really isn’t due to a cold at all. It’s probably not the pills either.

It’s an airy, weightless feeling, something similar to free falling. Like balancing carefully along rusted support beams of a felled building in Old Town, one step away from a fatal fall. Or riding passenger on Kaneda’s bike, arms wrapped tight around a strong torso. Hitting max speed, a higher high than any pill could hope to achieve.

That thing really rides like the wind.

If Tetsuo closes his eyes, he feels like he’s spinning, like the world is falling away around him and opening up into this vast empty place in his head, a previously inaccessible space that speaks to him in nonsensical images.

Akira, his mind tells him, but honestly who the fuck is that?

Maybe he shouldn’t have drank those beers Kaneda offered. He’s usually smart enough to avoid the consequences of mixing booze with pills on an empty stomach, but tonight he’s a little too much of everything (anxious stressed upset scared) to really care about how his body will react, about what kind of weird places his mind will travel to under their influence.

Akira, sure. Whatever. Just a name, nothing more. A name that vaguely rings a bell in the back of his mind though.

Tetsuo doesn’t care to try and figure out why.

Right as Tetsuo is about to push up off of Kaneda’s bed and move into the living room, maybe check out those mags he saw Kaneda hide under his jacket earlier out of sheer boredom, Kaneda bursts through the doorway in a flourish.

In one hand he holds a crumpled wad of thin wrapping bandages and a packaged gauze pad. In the other, a big bottle of chilled Lager. There’s a sly smile on his face too, eyes bright with excitement. Tetsuo perks up at that and maneuvers into seiza.

“Man, you won’t believe who Daichi was bangin next door! I coulda sworn it was Haruko since they’ve been goin’ steady for a while, or well, not anymore, but he has Satsuki Nakamura screaming his name to the high heavens! Whatta dog that guy!”

Kaneda plops down on the bed next to Tetsuo and throws the materials in his lap. He naturally has a bottle opener within a foot of his person at all times and is quick to pop the cap and take a long gulp. Kaneda offers it to him after he belches loudly, gross, but Tetsuo simply pulls a face and starts opening the gauze pad instead.

“Satsuki from math?” Tetsuo asks idly, because he thinks Yamagata used to have a thing with her. It was fleeting, more a one night stand than anything, nowhere near as meaningful as the looks Tetsuo has caught him sending Kai. He practically eye fucks him across the bar at Harukiya’s and Kai just kinda plays dumb about it like he doesn’t know when they all know.

He’s really not surprised about those losers, they have a lot of history.

“Yup, the one with the blonde hair and huge ass. Man...what I wouldn’t give to spend a night with her.” Kaneda sighs dreamily, a lost look on his face as he crosses his arms behind his head and settles down on the mattress, taps his foot to some unheard beat. Tetsuo scowls and rolls his eyes.

“Would you give up your bike?” Kaneda blinks and doesn’t even really seem to think about it before pulling a face.

“Hell nah. Her ass is nice but not that nice.”

“Right. That’s the only way you’d be able to give her a ride worth remembering anyway.” Tetsuo takes joy in seeing the dreamy look on Kaneda’s face drop into something similar to a pout.

He kinda missed Kaneda’s expressive face and exaggerated movements when he was at the hospital. Everyone was stiff faced and moved methodically, mechanically. He felt like he had been a test subject rather than a patient.

“Rude, Tetsuo. Anyone would be lucky to have a piece of this! You’re just jealous cause you can’t get anyone but that boring chick to look at you and see more than just forehead.” Tetsuo flushes and glares at Kaneda suddenly over the mention of Kaori (and his forehead too honestly.)

“Shut up.”

She’s sweet. She isn’t put off by him. She likes his company just as he likes hers. Just cause she’s a little more simple and shy than the loud girls Kaneda and the Capsules like and she never stays the night or asks him over to hers and they haven’t even kissed let alone fucked because she said she thinks she doesn’t like him that way and he’s strangely okay with that doesn’t mean there’s anything wrong with her. Or him.

There’s definitely nothing wrong with him.

“You want me to see if Junko knows any girls desperate for a ride?” Kaneda’s voice is leering, lecherous, and Tetsuo’s flush burns hotter in his cheeks as Kaneda laughs loudly, a gleeful look on his face all at Tetsuo’s expense. He doesn’t like it.

Tetsuo rips off the bandages on his head clumsily and throws them at Kaneda, who yelps and moves out of their range. Which means he falls off the bed with a loud thump.

“Shut up!”

“Fuckin’ gross man!”

Kaneda climbs back on the mattress with a scowl after pushing the used bandages on the floor. Tetsuo turns away from him and tries to align the gauze pad over the deep cut on his forehead by touch alone. This leads to a lot of flinching and pain on his part. He can do this, especially without stupid Kaneda’s help. He doesn’t need a girl and he doesn’t need help.

Kaneda sighs after a moment of watching him struggle.

“Here.” Kaneda holds out a hand, probably for the gauze pad and medical wrap, but Tetsuo holds fast to them, keeps working on aligning the pad with his injury, using pain as an indicator of closeness so he must be pretty damn close.

“I got it.” His voice is flat and level. Kaneda clicks his tongue at him immediately afterwards.

“Dude, you’re like way off target. Ever heard of X marks the spot? Come on, lemme’ do it.” Tetsuo grits his teeth and continues to fumble with holding the gauze pad to his forehead while simultaneously trying to wrap the bandage around his head. He doesn’t need Kaneda’s help.

“I said I fuckin got it.”

His hair is getting in the way. His palms sweat. He can feel Kaneda’s eyes on him.

There’s a moment of silence between them, broken only by Tetsuo’s heartbeat echoing like a drum in his head, by the wail of a distant police siren in the night, by the sudden and very loud scream of Daichi’s name from the next apartment over.

Tetsuo’s hands start to fumble harder. The silence stretches on. He suddenly wonders what it would be like to hear someone call his name like that.

Tetsuo thinks of Kaori and then Kaneda and sighs out his nose sharply. His body feels drained all at once. Resigned.

He can still feel Kaneda’s eyes on him.

“...will you help me?” Tetsuo’s gaze is averted when he asks, and thankfully Kaneda doesn’t say anything annoying in response. Keeps his snickers politely muffled. Just holds out his hand again for the gauze and wrap and takes them easily from Tetsuo’s shivering hands. His head is really starting to hurt again.

The pain ebbs and flows.

Kaneda scoots closer on the mattress until his knees are flush with Tetsuo’s thigh.

“Turn my way.” He says, easy as that, and Tetsuo naturally obliges.

Their knees touch before Kaneda scoots closer and brackets his legs around Tetsuo’s. His hand very suddenly pushes back the short fringe that hangs over his forehead and Tetsuo’s breath punches out of his chest in a shallow exhale.

Kaneda’s hand feels so good against his hot forehead. He nearly melts at the feel of it, so much more intimate than the clinical touches that linger in his mind from that cold, creepy hospital. Most of the visit was a blur, but he can’t get the sterile smell out of his mind. The faint beeping of machines and stiff, stark white lab coats. Waking up, alone, on an operating table. Tetsuo shudders.

Number 41? Fuck that.

“Man, you’re burning up. You been drinking water?” Tetsuo’s gaze has been fixed on the shallow dip in Kaneda’s collarbone peeking out from the lip of his thin shirt, but now he drags it up to trace along the planes of his neck and trail along the curve of his strong jaw. Tetsuo’s throat feels tight. He can’t quite meet Kaneda’s eyes.

“Didn’t know you had any, thought you lived off of beer.” Kaneda’s hand pushes through his short hair and his nails rake teasingly down Tetsuo’s scalp, along the back on his neck. His warm palm settles there comfortingly. Goosebumps dance along his skin and Tetsuo fights a shiver.

He closes his eyes and that airy feeling washes over him, makes him feel like he’s about to topple over right into Kaneda’s chest, maybe right through him. He swallows dryly.

Tries to think of Kaori.

“Not true. I live off soda too.” Kaneda’s voice is low and warm, sounding much closer than before. Tetsuo starts and opens his eyes, finds Kaneda just inches from his face, eyes squinted in concentration, trained on the gash in his forehead. Kaneda’s hand squeezes for a moment on Tetsuo’s nape and his stomach flips.

Tetsuo stares at the deep brown of Kaneda’s averted eyes. They carry just a hint of green in them, little smatterings of mossy freckles particularly dense around the iris. There’s a darker brown splotch near the pupil in his left eye, shaped almost like a star.

Tetsuo closes his eyes again and floats.

“Man those assholes at the hospital couldn’t ‘ave given you some painkillers or something? Did they say anything about risk of concussion? This looks pretty rough.” Kaneda’s fingertips ghost over the cut and Tetsuo twitches involuntarily at the pain that blossoms in their wake, at the flash of an image that bursts behind his eyelids for a split second, a blank face that’s not quite new, not quite recognizable…vaguely familiar.

“It doesn’t hurt anymore.” Tetsuo says, but the words don’t feel right in his mouth because he does hurt. Somewhere, somehow. A shameful ache in his gut often accompanied by a wholly pleasant flutter.

Triggered at the sight of red.

He doesn’t need a girl, but nothings wrong with him.

Kaneda makes a disbelieving noise, “Uh-huh sure”, and presses the gauze to his forehead, starts to carefully wrap his head up. Maybe keep it from falling apart (or be the reason it does). Something in Tetsuo wants him to wrap it tight.

When he stops feeling the rhythmic motion of Kaneda’s hands winding around his head, brushing carefully over his temples, he tentatively opens his eyes. Finds himself face to face with Kaneda, who is watching him intensely, something guarded and serious in his usually open expression. His head tilts. Tetsuo goes on offensive.

There’s always been something dangerous about Kaneda when his mind is set on something.

“Are you okay, Tetsuo? You’ve been acting kinda different lately. The boys have noticed too.”

Tetsuo’s mind flashes back to the past week, the past month, hell, the past year. A lot has happened, a lot has changed. Maybe he has too, but he’ll feign ignorance. There’s always a loophole in that attitude with Kaneda. He likes to believe that everyone is honest with him, something Tetsuo secretly thinks makes him weak. But maybe it makes him weak to be the only one lying. To be taking advantage.

“Of course I’m fine. I just got back from the hospital dumbass, they wouldn’t have let me go if I wasn’t okay.” And Kaneda squints his eyes as an easy smile spreads slowly to his lips. Tetsuo’s always envied those easy grins (always loved em’ more though.)

“Not what I meant. Yamagata thinks you’ve been quiet lately. I guess I’ve noticed it too if I’m being straight with you.” Tetsuo tilts his head back slowly and doesn’t respond. Kaneda waggles his brows, pats his thighs idly with his hands. Tries to keep this lighthearted.

“You got somethin’ on your mind lately?”

Someone, he wants to say, I have someone on my mind lately.

That name once again comes to mind.

Akira.

“Nah, just the usual.” It’s a bullshit answer, he took too long to respond, a dead give away. And Kaneda sees right through it too.

Tetsuo deflects with a yawn but he doesn’t have to lie about that, as a tiredness sweeps over him like a wave. Crashing from his busted head all the way down to his tingling toes.

“Ok, ok, I see. Just the usual nothingness running through that empty skull of yours. No wonder they didn’t keep you longer for observation, you got no brain to worry about hurtin’.”

Kaneda often relents, but never shows mercy.

Tetsuo scowls and tries to swat at Kaneda, but he seems to see it coming from a mile away as he grabs Tetsuo’s arm and yanks it towards him with a shiteating grin. Tetsuo collides into Kaneda’s chest with an “oof” and almost head butts Kaneda’s chin as they fall back onto the mattress, Tetsuo’s body landing precisely within the valley of Kaneda’s legs.

A sharp pain stabs into his head abruptly and makes him clench his eyes shut, instinctively bury his face in the soft cotton of Kaneda’s shirt. He’s suddenly very dizzy.

Tetsuo’s groan is muffled into Kaneda’s rib cage, his arm tense within Kaneda’s grip. Kaneda makes a questioning noise and lets his arm drop, pokes softly at the crown of his head and begins to carefully massage at his scalp.

“Phantom brain pains? Can you feel hurt over something you never even had?” Tetsuo groans again and a pair of dull grey eyes glare in his mind.

Yes.

“No.” He says, but he doesn’t know who he’s talking to. Tetsuo opens his eyes. He’s starting to feel confused.

“Well hey, you said it man, not me.” Kaneda’s voice rumbles against his forehead and Tetsuo shifts his head so he’s looking up at Kaneda, chin digging into his sternum. Kaneda’s hand is warm on his head.

He’s crossed his free arm behind his head again and is staring up at the ceiling like Tetsuo had been not too long ago, looking strangely lost in thought. Maybe he’s trying to decide if that water stain on the ceiling looks more like a dog or a dragon.

Tetsuo bet’s he’s thinking dragon.

“Are you really worried about me?” He says, and his voice is low, quiet. Kaneda’s eyes don’t drift towards him, but his brows shift downward and his shoulders shuffle on the mattress. A dead give away. They know each others tells but make a game of keeping them secret anyway.

“Maybe. A little bit. But I know you’ll talk to me if you need to.” And there’s nothing more he says. No confirmation, no follow up, no ,“Right, Tetsuo? You can always count on me!”, because Kaneda knows that Tetsuo knows. Always has, always will.

Kaneda will have his back until the end. He knows that. Doesn’t listen to the part of him that’s always whispered it’s too good to be true. The little voice that’s been getting louder lately.

Tetsuo feels like he’s floating again, but it’s not a dizzying feeling this time and his eyes are open and all he sees is this stupid guy with his fast smiles and easy affection who can read him like an open book and make him feel better without even really trying.

“Hey, Kaori was askin’ around for you after the bell yesterday. You should really make a move before she gets bored of your boring ass.”

Tetsuo doesn’t want to think about Kaori right now. He doesn’t need a girl.

“Yeah. Okay.” Tetsuo says, and rolls off of Kaneda’s chest to lie on his back next to him: their sides are flush together and Kaneda radiates a comforting warmth that Tetsuo shifts into, his other arm a pillow underneath Tetsuo’s head. They lie in the quiet for a minute before Kaneda says, “Hey,” leans down towards him with a smile that spells trouble and burps Tetsuo’s name loud and long right in his ear.

That starts a wrestling match that Kaneda was stupid to start because while Tetsuo’s head feels kinda hollow, his body relies on muscle memory for these games and there’s no Yamagata or Kai to play referee and keep either of them from fighting dirty.

Kaneda laughs the whole time they grapple, even after letting Tetsuo pin him down to the bed.

Tetsuo smiles triumphantly though, even knowing Kaneda let him win, and feels his stomach flutter at the look on Kaneda’s face. His grin is lopsided like he’s trying and failing to contain it, eyes bright with an emotion Tetsuo can only think to name as joy. His cheeks are flushed, his chest heaving, and Tetsuo suddenly becomes aware of all the many points of contact between their bodies.

Kaneda’s hand is on his chest, his legs and hips pinned between Tetsuo’s thighs, his other arm pressed down hard into the lumpy mattress. Tetsuo’s got Kaneda boxed in underneath him and his heart jumps into overdrive at the revelation.

Kaneda’s hips twitch a bit as if testing the weight of Tetsuo’s body against his, but his smile has turned teasing and his eyes...Tetsuo releases his hand instinctively and pulls back. He’s flustered by the change in demeanor and Kaneda is quick to take advantage of this. He fists his hand in Tetsuo’s shirt, drags him slowly down towards Kaneda again and his smile twists into something foreign as Tetsuo’s breath stutters, he stutters, his heart stutters. Kaneda’s hand tightens in his shirt slowly, his mouth curls into a soft, sweet thing, and then he pushes Tetsuo away and off of Kaneda completely.

Tetsuo flops down next to him, breath frozen in his chest, what the fuck, until Kaneda pulls him into a headlock and tells him in a sing song voice to say uncle. Tetsuo yells obscenities at him, “Let me go, you stupid fucking asshole!”, suddenly furious and flustered and all kinds of things that only Kaneda can make him feel.

Tetsuo eventually does say uncle.

Kaneda’s answering grin burns like fire.

It’s been a while since he’s stayed over and indulged in Kaneda’s childishness, played along with his dumb, immature jokes and jibes. Kaneda saves the most infuriating insults for Tetsuo, the roughest play for his oldest friend. Tetsuo can handle it after all.

Even though he won’t admit it aloud, ever, he missed this.

(He would miss this.)

After a while they finally settle down on the mattress, move onto less boisterous play and into casual conversation, “So was your nurse hot or not? It’s an important questions, Tets, trust me”, and Kaneda’s breathing gradually evens out as Tetsuo’s head stops pulsing in time with his fast heartbeat. Tetsuo glances at Kaneda out of his peripheral after a long stretch of silence between them. His eyes are closed and his face relaxed.

Their legs are still intertwined.

Tetsuo winds up staring at the ceiling again for what feels like hours. Occasionally he glances over at Kaneda, just to make sure he’s still there, and watches him sleep. Wishing, like always, that he could follow.

He tries to relax and let sleep take him, but doesn’t like where he goes when he closes his eyes, doesn’t feel quite right enough to fall asleep yet. But with Kaneda snoring softly by his side and strange images occasionally popping into his head, at least he’s no longer bored.

Tetsuo is eventually lulled asleep by the thrum of a heartbeat in his head, not entirely sure if it’s his own.

#akira #kanetetsu #there be gayness here #can you feel it mr. krabs?#LMAO #peep that yamakai #wow #my writing #kaneda shotaro #tetsuo shima #this cured my own depression honestly #SO GAY HJDJNSL #another long one hnng sorry

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viv-adair · 5 years

Text

Let Me Blow Ya Mind || Solo [Prompt]

Date: March 3rd, 2001

Location: A vacant lot near Sourland Mountain Preserve

Word Count: 1390

Triggers: Death, Blood, Violence, Torture, Needles, Organs, Assault

In all aspects of life, we take on a part and an appearance to seem to be what we wish to be–and thus the world is merely composed of actors.

― François de la Rochefoucauld

“Hey, pretty girl. Why don’t you slide on over here, hm?”

Vivienne was no stranger to the condescending tone Tommy used. It was the same that so many had spoken to her with for her entire life. Her father, her classmates, teachers, men who wanted to get the quiet girl to “let loose for once”. But they were all the same. They were all monsters in their own right, incapable of seeing Viv for what she was. Though she couldn’t really fault them for it, not anymore. Not since she’d shoved who she was into a corner deep, deep within herself, so far down it was unlikely there was any real part of her truly left.

Sugar was the last one to see that little girl, but that was years ago. That was middle school, two high schools, and college ago. That was a billion insects, a hundred neighborhood cats and dogs ago, an entire cupboard of snakes and rats ago.

Drop your glasses, shake your asses Face screwed up like you having hot flashes Which one, pick one, this one, classic Red from blonde, yeah bitch I'm drastic

Viv’s nose turned up at the R&B beats blaring from Tommy’s radio. She reached out to turn the knob when Tommy caught her hand, placing it instead on his knee, raising an eyebrow suggestively. Vivienne smiled, cocking her head to the side. “Did you really think I’d be that easy?”

The boy laughed. The sound that boomed around the inside of his brand new Dodge Neon wasn’t filled with joy or warmth, but something more sinister and more empty. Viv almost recognized it, sensing the familiarity to her father’s laugh. He had never seemed to find anything truly funny, not in the sense that anyone else did. Viv learned to pick up on that, the lack of sincerity in someone’s voice, in their laughs.

She had to learn how to fake it in her own.

“Of course not, Vivy baby. Not after the chase you put me on just to get ya out here!” He laughed again, pulling her in for a long kiss. This time she let him, pressing herself against his body, feeling how his muscles pulled against the restraint of his skin. Tommy was a jock through and through, his incessant workout schedule showing in his incredibly toned triceps. Viv’s fingers tightened on the muscles, tracing the ligaments as if she were in Mr. Johansson’s class.

Tommy moaned against her mouth. Viv rolled her eyes. It wasn’t hard to play the part. But to what end? She was already growing bored with their little play. Tommy’s hands explored her back, crawling under her shirt with more desperation now. His fingers fumbled over the clasp of her bra, ripping the fabric when it wouldn’t bend to his brutish will.

“Okay, Tommy. That’s a little much, don’t you think?” But Tommy seemed to be growing bored with their campout at First Base as well, though not in the same way as Viv. He ignored her question, choosing instead to force his hand up the front of her shirt, grabbing haphazardly at her breasts. Viv couldn’t imagine this would be pleasurable to anyone, not even the gaggle of cheerleaders Tommy usually brought out here to the middle of nowhere. But Viv didn’t have anything to compare him to. She had never felt the need to date before now, but it was becoming increasingly apparent by her classmate’s stares and her roommate’s comments that she was meant to.

Honestly, she didn’t see what all the fuss was about.

“Tommy, I’m so sorry but could we table this for a moment?”

Now I got my foot through the door And I ain't goin' nowhere It took awhile to get me here And I'm gonna take my time Don't fight that good shit in your ear Now let me blow ya mind

Instead of obliging her request, Tommy quickly flipped on top of her, growling into her ear. “C’mon baby, lemme get a good look at that bangin’ body of yours…” Tommy sat back, admiring her as if she were a fresh kill, ready to be sliced open and gutted for dinner.

Instead of shying away in fear, however, Vivienne smiled. She recognized that look and no longer had any qualms about hiding her own hunger. She stretched out in the back seat, pushing her chest forward to entice her prey. Once distracted, Viv played one of Tommy’s moves. In a fluid movement that caught Tommy’s breath in his throat, Vivienne was on top of him, straddling his narrow hips. His eyes lit up, feeling as if he’d finally unlocked the secret to the weird girl in class. No doubt he was already planning his celebration speech for his bros back at the frat house.

Nimble fingers traced up his torso, paying special attention to Tommy’s overly defined rectus abdominis, her hand grazing each perfect separation of his six pack.

Question, tell me how you feel about this Try to control me, boy, you get dismissed

A sadistic smile flickered onto Viv’s face. Holding a finger to her lips, she signaled for Tommy to keep quiet and let her work, a position she had a feeling he rarely got to enjoy. Leaning into the front seat for her purse, Viv quickly withdrew a size 11 scalpel she’d swiped after Mrs. Johansson’s class last Thursday. Tommy’s eyes widened, unsure of where Viv was going with this.

“So you uh, like a little pain, huh?” He chuckled nervously. The uneasiness as he realized the potential danger he was in just now dawning on his handsome, oafish face.

“I thought you wanted to have a little fun,” She questioned, drawing the blade carefully down her own cheek, careful to keep the blade from slicing her own skin. “I think we’re going to have quite a bit of fun tonight, Tommy.”

Girl I didn't know you could get down like that Charlie, how your Angels get down like that Girl I didn't know you could get down like that Charlie, how your Angels get down like that

Lifting the scalpel in front of her face, Vivienne examined her reflection in the freshly stained silver. She pulled out her lipstick, touching up the bits where Tommy had smeared the color off her lips and onto her porcelain skin. Smiling to herself, she wiped off the blade and placed it carefully back in her bag.

“Well, I certainly had fun.” Vivienne grinned down at what used to be Tommy, his skin peeled back, revealing all the intricacies, faults and perfections of his anatomy. Delicate muscle strands, perfectly juicy organs, aside from his liver which showed considerable damage for a 19 year old. “And I think we both learned so much, don’t you think?” Viv cocked her head, examining her handiwork. The cuts could have been cleaner, she had nicked a few arteries before she had intended and sliced through some extraneous soft tissue, but altogether a brilliant first attempt.

Sitting there in Tommy’s car, Viv finally felt alive. It was like all those moments in her father’s shed with neighborhood cats and rabbits had been preparing her for this exact moment. She felt complete. She felt seen. Even if the only one to witness her unmasking was a corpse of a subpar, second string football player. She ran a finger over the well defined sartorius muscle. At least he was a beautiful specimen. A quick glance at the radio clock told her it was getting late, soon it would be dawn and once Tommy’s frat bros peeled themselves off the floor, they’d be looking for their star idiot. Viv sighed, wishing she had more time with her subject. Before setting to work, she sliced off a piece of Tommy’s perfectly cultivated rectus abdominis and placed it gingerly in an evidence bag. Her classmates always gave her strange looks for keeping supplies in her everyday bags, but at moments like this, she did well to be prepared.

R&B tunes boomed through the radio and Vivienne never felt so free.

I got things on my mind, I never thought I would I, I want to be bad, you make bad feel so good I'm losing all my cool I'm about to break the rules I, I want to be bad

#tw: torture #tw: death #tw: assault #tw: violence #tw: dissection #tw: gore #tw: excessive use of r&b lyrics #maledictus.prompt #solo #let me blow ya mind #prompt6

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fluidsf · 5 years

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Various Artists: Classics from the Bluweirdo (2015) Reviewed format: DIY Limited Edition CD package released on FULLFRIDGE MUSIC Hey everyone, it's Christmas now but as I like to be productive and do my best always even during the holiday season I'm doing another review now. This one is one of my Christmas gifts this year, it's an excellent compilation released on FULLFRIDGE MUSIC in 2015 titled Classics from the Bluweirdo. The format I'm reviewing is the rather neatly designed DIY Limited Edition CD package. The package is a cardboard sleeve that folds out with a flap that locks or opens the packaging through a die cut hole. The compilation tracklist is printed on the lower flap, whilst the album credits are spread over the left and right flaps underneath. Inside there is a card that features the FULLFRIDGE discography up until that point, as well as the CD. Now as for the music on this compilation, I was really pleasantly surprised at how different this music sounds on this compilation. From start to end this compilation has this really interesting mysterious (Middle Eastern) vibe to it that blends experimental hazy atmospheres with often very bassy grooves and is often also pretty progressive both melodically and rhythmically. While I've come across experimental bass music before, hearing these artists on this varied compilation CD as a full 1 hour 8 minutes listen was quite a unique experience that feels quite beyond club vibes but goes into pretty surreal psychedelic territory actually. First track Chantal by Lokom is a track that's mostly beatless, though there are some drum sounds in the mix. It's a hypnotic piece full of tumbling mid frequency synths, synth bells and quirky synth squelches and sounds quite like an analog modular system, there's some noise in the track too, both used as part of the composition to build an intense climax as well as background noise that reveals a likely analog production of this track. Very nice progressive electronic droning piece that introduces us into the mysterious spacy sound of this compilation, both calming as well as unsettling in a subtle way. Then we have Hangoverkill by Don't DJ, a track that's mostly focused on Tribal sounding percussion, with bassy kick sounds. It's got a relatively slow pace and sounds very "live" performed, rather than programmed, which is particularly enhanced by the reverb. Its rhythms build slowly and progressively to include various bells, woodblock, delay effects in a hypnotic pattern. It has the atmosphere of a kind of prayer ritual to it, though the delay effects also add a quirky trippy edge to the piece, very nice. How to be good and complacent by Hasan Hujairi is the next track, the track features this rather quirky high synth melody that's got some nice portamento to it, as well as some nicely abstract "flapping" synth pattern over a slow sliced and stuttered breakbeat. Quite like a sonic picture of the title How to be good and complacent, sitting in a comfortable chair in a room, just chilling, being good. The quirky synths add all these notches of daily weirdness to it, the way every day has new fun impressions in it, even though you might just indeed be chilling in a chair. Peaceful comfort, having fun on your own. Next track Titre by Ahmed Saleh starts with a cool looped vocal sample with a great Middle Eastern sound to it over a synth drone that's layered with a glitched up synth, then an organ like resonant bass moves in and the piece slowly builds to the droning distorted notes of the main melody, which gives the piece a great influence of Shoegaze, sounding quite like a blend of drone, Shoegaze and Middle Eastern folk music as the drums enter in the second half of the piece. Quite an epic sounding composition and it's great how the bass varies in the second half, adding yet another layer of variation to an excellent, entrancing and richly detailed piece of music, quite dramatic and captivating too. Then we have Interceptor by Mock The Zuma which again has Middle Eastern influences in it, the string instrument melody, bass, vocal samples and beat all carry it in themselves. Interceptor is more of a bass music kind of track that blends swing laden drum patterns with a deep atmosphere, smooth warm bass and influences of Dub (Techno). It's continually grooving but also progressive, always changing and unfolding into new sonic branches over time, great stuff. Then we have the track Indo by Bombé which feels influence quite a lot by early Aphex Twin in its heavily percussive drum programming and mixture of atmospheric pads with Techno grooves, a kind of Ambient Techno that has added "tropical island vibes" with the sung vocal samples, very nice driving beats and a lovely progression in this track again too, both club ready as well as very suitable for home listening, great music. On the following track Cos, Dogboy chops up Dub Techno synth stabs in a kind of glitchy "minimal" techno variation of that sound, very minimal yet at the same time also very deep with the stabs and progressive in the constantly changing beats and manipulations, quality stuff right here. Warned Off by A Taut Line has a more Asian sound to it, with a lot of intense percussive elements and Asian pipe instrument drones throughout the track which are mixed with totally boss electronic beats. Quite a lot of details in this intense glitchy but also surprisingly atmospheric high tech club music piece, very good. Reutrn by Lindus Phrasen moves into to my ears more recently familiar territory with an Industrial Techno piece full of really cool dubby delayed percussion and distortion clangs and bangs with thick bassy kicks. Reminds me of music from the UNIDENTIED TECHNO LABEL I reviewed some time ago, but here are also some added atmospheric stabs which make the piece more chill in a way, a great mashup of Industrial and Dub Techno vibes as well as particularly musical Industrial rhythms. The next track Broken TV (Shinigami San remix) is part of a trio of tracks that form the last part of the compilation and are the most groove and bass focussed track on the compilation, they're not quite as progressive as the pieces before but are especially great in their sound design. In Broken TV (Shinigami San remix) this especially apparent in the hollow tones, metallic tones and glitchy percussion being used that gives the track a kind of mysterious sci-fi vibe. The 808 beat has a very detroit techno kind of sound to it tho the melodic content itself is very abstract and more resonant than melodic, a great groover with a unique futuristic sound. Tron by Synaptic is very bassy and has got some excellent catchy bass music vibes in it full with tasty clap rhythms, 808 hihats and triplet synth chops, pretty simple in arrangement but very catching and enjoyable beats. Closing track Syrup by Zoltan is shamelessly "trash-fi" in its production aesthetic full with phasing and distortion effects and a massive almost distorting bass, it's however also expertly crafted and very enjoyable and brings back the Middle Eastern percussive influences, pure bangin' wild bassy fun, great closer of this compilation. Classics from the Bluweirdo is a very enjoyable and varied compilation that blends experimental bass / club music vibes with Middle Eastern atmospherics and further experimentation to create a listening experience that's both mysteriously cinematic and club ready grooving. An excellent recommended listen for both fans of experimental and underground club / bass music genres and also anyone looking for a release of some really unique and fresh electronic music from a greatly varied selection of international artists. DIY Limited Edition CD package available from the FULLFRIDGE MUSIC Bandcamp page here: https://fullfridge-music.bandcamp.com/album/classics-from-the-bluweirdo-perspectives-on-sounds-with-a-world-fi-tribe

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saintmccann · 6 years

Text

Pacifier song preference 5/4

an angsty!Van tries to prove to himself that he doesn’t need his ex-gf

Bondy finds out something that changes his life, and calls you on the phone upset.

bestfriend!Bob has a shoulder for you to cry on

you’ve got a crush on Benji and the guys are being annoying about it

Larry's taken you on a roadtrip and at the end there’s a surprise

[read under the cut]

Van

Obligatory wine Evidently proves that I don't need you

His words were slurring as he spoke to the bartender. You watched him from afar, curious as to how his life has been without you. You hadn’t expected to see him at a bar so far from home, but then again - you used to come here with him sometimes when he’d stay over at yours. Maybe he’d come for old times’ sake. But this time, he’d come alone.

You debated on whether or not to speak to him - you thought it rude not to, (that’s just how you were raised) but you paused and thought about how it might feel for him, to have his ex girlfriend approach him as he’s pissed drunk in a bar in your territory.

The wine glass was almost toppling in his drunk hands, sloshing a bit too much for elegance. He took a big gulp, and slouched his shoulders into himself. He checked his phone for notifications. You could tell from your point of view that there were none. He sat back on the barstool, tucked his phone back into his pocket, and took a deep breath, setting the glass of wine on the bar. He looked around, head turning, and then locked eyes with you.

His blue orbs were wider and rounder than you’d ever seen them. He doubted you’d be here. He’d probably expected to get some inspiration by coming to a place you and he used to come to all the time, now abandoned by him as a consequence of the breakup. He was probably looking for an isolated time alone with his thoughts and memories, putting himself through misery in order to get some kind of artistic creation. You knew Van’s songs were about pain. Never about happiness.

You decided in that moment to come up to him, because he’d not made any moves to leave the barstool. You were surprised he was standing his ground.

“Hi Van,” you said, not letting the awkwardness he was projecting seep into your skin. It had been a year since the breakup. It wasn’t affecting you anymore to look into his baby blue eyes and speak to him. You were almost hoping for closure.

“Hello, Y/N,” he said in that cocky voice of his, the one he put on when he needed a confidence boost. Only you knew about this quirk.

“What brings you to this side of town?” you ask him, genuinely curious.

“Well, not you, that’s for sure.”

“Alright then. I was just trying to be nice.”

“You know, Y/N, I never needed this,” he gestured around to the bar, between you both, and to the general atmosphere. “I never needed it,” he whispered to himself before taking another large gulp of the red wine.

“You hate wine, Van.”

“Not tonight.” He sat up to ask the bartender for the check, and when it was handed to him, you gasped at how much wine he’d been drinking.

“Need it for my lyrics,” he muttered.

“Van.... are you... like.... are you okay?” you asked him, tilting his chin up to look at you. His eyes were sunken, the premature wrinkles above his eyebrows were a little more prominent from a lack of sleep, or alcohol, or both. He looked like shit.

“I’m alright, Y/N, I don’t need you to tell me how I’m doing,” he snapped, moving his chin away from your hand quickly. He signed the check and retrieved his credit card. He put it back in his wallet, slid his wallet in his back pocket, and hopped off the stool.

You grabbed his arm to steady him, and he looked back up at you with something -- was it tears? -- glistening in his eyes.

“Goodbye, Y/N.”

And with that, he was out the door.

Bondy

Oh but babe, you know I've tried and failed But you just don't know how it feels To lose something you never have and never will

Bondy’s hands shook as he dialed your number. On the third ring, you picked up.

“Hey babe, not a suuuper great time to call - I’m kind of at work right now, remember? I can call you in 10 though, when my lunch break starts.”

“Y/N, this can’t really wait.” You could hear the distress in his voice and immediately your back stood straighter in your chair.

“Oh. Okay, let me, uh, let me tell Julie I’m stepping out for a second.” The worries in your head started bubbling up as you asked your boss if you could take your lunch break early.

Bondy heard shuffling around and muffled conversation on the other line, but soon you were back on, and sitting in your car for privacy.

“What’s wrong, John?”

A long pause.

“I.... Y/N... remember how we’ve been having the most bangin’ sex ever? And like... how we’ve been trying to have kids?”

“John, did you call me to tell me I’m pregnant? Because I’m pretty sure I’d know before you did. And I’m not,” you chuckled, hoping to lighten the mood.

“I know, I know..... I kind of..... did something behind your back.”

“W-what?”

“I went to the doctor, and--” his sniffles became audible “I got tested and -- I found out I’m not fertile” he choked out.

Your heart dropped. You’d never experienced anything like this before. The image you’d held in your mind of what your future would be like with him slowly melted away. You found a tear slowly leak out your eyes. You’d never be able to have Bondy’s kids. He’d never be able to have yours.

He broke the silence by crying harder into the phone. “I’m -- I’m so sorry baby -- I never expected--”

“Shhh,” you cooed into the phone despite your own tears rolling down your cheeks. “We’ll find a way to make it work.”

“But I’m fucking broken! My dick is actually broken! I can’t even give you what you want most!” He yelled into the receiver.

He’d held the phone away from his face after that, sobbing into the denim covered knees he’d drawn up around himself on his couch.

“I’m coming home, John. I love you. And..... we can always adopt, right? I love you. I love you so much. I’m coming straight home. I love you. Everything’s going to be fine.”

Bob

I’m her pacifier

“And cookies for the lady!” Bob exclaimed proudly, putting a hot tray of cookies down in front of you on the coffee table.

“Thanks, Bob.”

“And don’t forget the cup of almond milk to dip them in!” his singsong voice proclaimed as he set down a glass of milk next to them. You smiled in thanks.

He sat down next to you, curly hair brushing your cheek as he wrapped you in a bear hug. “Everything’s going to be okay, Y/N.”

“Are you sure?”

“You’ll get over him eventually. He was a piece of shit. A manipulative piece of shit who didn’t deserve someone so kind and loving. He’ll get what’s coming around,” he whispered on top of your hair.

You pulled away to get a good look at him. “I love you, Bob. So much. Thanks for letting me stay over.”

“Hey, I said nothing about staying over!” he feigned. “But of course you can. You’re my best friend, and I’ll do anything for you. Stay as long as you need; I’ll be here.”

Benji

She said "I'm feeling like it's putting on When you say you don't need me And you want nothing of me."

“Come on, Y/N,” Larry laughed around a mouthful of chips. “You’ve got to like him. You know you do.”

“Nope.”

“The way you look at Benji is the way I look at Lou. And we all know how I feel about Lou,” Bondy said, blowing smoke out of his mouth as he precariously leaned back in his chair. The rest of the Catfish crew laughed.

“Oh! There he is! The man of the night!” your cousin Van said as Benji re-entered the room. All night, ever since you’d hinted to Van about your crush on Benji, the news had spread like wildfire in the group. Every time Benji would get up to leave, the conversation would recommence.

“And why am I the man of the night?”

“Hopefully later you’ll see,” Bondy winked, and Benji rolled his eyes. He was used to supposedly mindless banter.

“Hey everyone, why don’t we play an old favorite of mine, a game of spin the bottle? There’s enough of us here!” Van said, winking. The winks from everyone were getting annoying and you regretted telling them anything about your crush on Benji at all.

“I don’t mind kissing Van,” Larry piped up, and settled himself in front of Van. You laughed, and still didn’t understand what Larry saw in your cousin.

“Actually, could I just speak to Benji for a second?” you asked. They definitely weren’t expecting that.

“Sure, Y/N,” Benji said, to the happiness, and dramatic irony, of the group.

You led Benji outside onto Van’s back patio, and from inside, the boys could see you discussing with him about something, your smile slowly growing wider and wider as you spoke frantically, and then as Benji spoke. At last, through the window, the guys saw you both stick a middle finger in the air, and your lips met for the first time of many.

“Guess we don’t need to play anymore, then?” Bondy snickered, shaking so hard that he fell over in his chair.

Larry

There's always some kid to snide

It was your first roadtrip with Larry, and it had gone magically well so far - the cities you’d gone to were swathed in sunlight, the weather was good all week, and you’d slept well every night with Larry by your side despite being in motels. Even getting snacks was fun; Larry always told you that you could have anything you wanted, and you both laughed hysterically at the strange local items you could find at a gas station.

It was the last stop of the trip, and the last gas station you were at was just by Larry’s place. You figured you’d still get snacks for when you got home, because you’d had to clean out your fridge before leaving so things wouldn’t go bad.

Larry’s hand wrapped around your shoulder as you both stepped out of the gas station, iced tea, chips, and candy in Larry’s hand and an ice cold Coca Cola and a chocolate bar in yours. He pressed a kiss to the side of your temple, and you smiled back up at him lovingly.

Suddenly, something icy cold hit Larry’s leg and he stumbled over the sidewalk.

“Oi! Bastard!” he yelled, reclaiming his footing.

You looked down and Larry’s pant legs were soaked from a stream of water as a hooded figure ran away laughing.

“Wasn’t expecting assholes to run around my hometown with fuckin’ water guns!” Larry exclaimed.

You peered harder at the hooded figure, who was now walking up toward you both with a cheeky smirk.

“Wait.... Van?”

#some of these could definitely have spinoffs so let me know if you're into that too

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itwas50yearsagotoday · 3 years

Audio

3/7/21: It was 50 years ago... well two days ago (barely missed this one), March 5th, 1971 the ghost of Jimi Hendrix would release ‘The Cry of Love’. So why am I linking a different Spotify record? Because over the last 50 years the post-death material has been released and re-released under various titles, including ‘The Cry of Love’. ‘The First Rays of New Rising Sun’ released by the Hendrix estate in 1997 seems to be the best post-death compilation, including the material from ‘Cry’ but several more tracks. Too bad this stuff didn’t get released in Jimi’s lifetime, as the tracks are thankfully mostly finished and pretty decent... however, there is a mild lack of spark in the songs, and that may be because of under-production, but I am not an expert. Anyway, some songs I think would be familiar to listeners, as the Hendrix estate (presumably) released some of these songs for commercials like ‘Ezy Ryder’ and ‘Freedom’... these are great songs, but not quite the level of the original three albums (not counting the aberration of ‘Band of Gypsies’... nope)... they would be near-filler deep cuts on those previous records, IMHO. But near-filler Jimi is much much better than the usual outtake crap from deceased artists, or just outtakes in general. My favorite of these songs is the linked ‘In From the Storm’... the production mix is really the only thing that flaws it, but that bridge when everything accelerates is one of my favorite Jimi moments on any record... just an awesome solo, leaving my head a-bangin’. Probably my second favorite here is a rare Hendrix ballad ‘Angel’... just SO pretty... has a little ‘Hey Joe’-ish feel, but more upbeat. Some other songs worth seeking out from this material: ‘Night Bird Flying’, ‘Dolly Dagger’, ‘Astro Man’ and ‘Belly Button Window.’ If you’re even a mild fan of Hendrix, these tracks are worth hearing in whatever compilation you can find.

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satanicstormcloud · 6 years

Text

Satan’s In My Dressing Room!

Summary: You’re trying on lingerie and Lucifer decides to bloop in.

Word Count: 1,023

Warnings: Some cussing because I just… can’t not cuss, Lucifer is kind of intruding so idk if that counts for anything?

A/N: YALL THIS IS MY FIRST ONE-SHOT EVER SO… please go easy on me (but also give me feedback but… word it as nicely as you can because I’m a bean). If you have any ideas for a way I could re-write this one-shot to make it more “spicy” or whatever you’re into lemme know, I was gonna make it more “spicy” but… the direction totally changed.

This is also kind of short because it’s a tester to what response I get- not that I only write for a response, but I want to give you guys a chance to give me feedback before I nosedive into something long.

Also, I’m only on season 2 of Supernatural (I’m terrible I know) but I pretty much know majority of Lucifer’s plot lines. Let’s pretend that this is like, after he’s going after Sam and now he’s just chillin’ at the bunker. Idk. —

Today was one of those days where you didn’t care what was on the price tag, nor did you care if what you were purchasing was “sensible”. You just wanted to buy shit, and that’s what you were gonna do.

As you grabbed your purse, you glanced at Sam, stating,“I’m heading out to Torrid to try on some stuff, I won’t be long.” He nodded back in response, mumbling,”have fun!”

Lucifer was leaning on the counter behind him, and he didn’t say much but he watched you leave, a thoughtful look on his face. He’d been staying at the bunker the past few weeks, and his interactions with the boys always amused you. Sometimes he pushed their buttons, but that’s only because they allowed him to. He never bothered you, but he always seemed to be staring at you with his arms crossed and his finger on his chin as if trying to solve some complex problem.

—

You were in the dressing room, shirt and pants off, leaving you only in your undergarments. Shuffling around the somewhat large room, you decided to try on a lingerie set which consisted of a pink brallet with black lace and matching underwear. Matching lingerie? FUCK YEAH.

As you rather ungracefully pulled on the bralette and the underwear, you could’ve sworn that the room had gotten just a little bit colder.

“Huh. Weird. They probably turned on the AC…” You thought to yourself.

You studied yourself in the mirror, judging how much you liked the lingerie set. Did you look hot as hell? Yes, but was it worth spending $80 on? You couldn’t decide, so you pulled out your phone, snapping a pic to send to your bestie to help you judge.

However, when you looked at the photo, you realized something was off. There was a blur, almost like a shadow that was moving, to your right.

You turned, eyes widening when you saw who was there.

“Ooh, hey pretty girl. You look… bangin’. Is that the term they’re using nowadays?”

You sighed nervously, facepalming to hide your embarrassment as you whimpered,”Fucking hell, Satan’s in my dressing room!”

He let out a deep, throaty chuckle, sending shivers up your spine. You moved your arms away from your face, shielding your tits instead of your blush- the brallete was sheer, so your nips were 100% out and about.

Lucifer suddenly shifted closer to you, reaching for your arms as he joked,”Aw, come on. You don’t have to be so self-conscious around me.”

You backed away slowly, absent-mindedly crossing your legs as well as you leaned against the wall behind you.

“Lucifer, what do you want?” You groaned, sending him a displeased look.

He shifted closer to you once more, taking your phone from your hand and setting it on the chair in the room whilst keeping his eyes locked on yours.

“I’m just visiting you-You said you were trying on clothes and I wanted to see what you picked,” He finished, stepping so close to you that you could feel his breath hitting your cheek.

You huffed in frustration, blurting,”Listen sweetcheeks, I don’t know what’s going on with you or why you’re acting like- whatever this is-“

He cut you off by running his thumb along your lower lip, biting down on his tongue in a focused manner. “I don’t know what it is about you, but you’re… precious and I can’t stay away,” he responded in a thoughtful voice, his thumb running along your cheekbone to your ear.

You blinked in surprise stuttering,”O-oh, that’s… that’s great, I guess?”

“How do you feel about me?” He asked in a soft voice, almost as if he were afraid of your response.

Wrapping your arms around his neck to invite him in more, you responded,”I… I like you allot, I suppose. I wasn’t really prepared for this, so I didn’t really think about how I felt about you beforehand but… you’re great, you really are. You make me very happy, even when you’re being an asshole sometimes.”

He snorted at the last part, and you were thankful he didn’t skin you for it.

Laying his head inside of the crook of your neck and taking a deep breath, he mumbled,”You smell great. And you need to buy this- I meant what I said. You look amazing.”

You giggled in response, relaxing into his hold.

—

See, I told you it was short! I’m feeling my oats, or whatever they say. Once again, please comment/send me feedback through an ask or a message or whatever you’d like! I’m not necessarily taking requests, but if you have a fun idea/prompt feel free to send it to me and I just might write it!

-Tema

#lucifer #lucifer x reader #lucifer x you #spn #supernatural #satan #one-shot #first fanfic #sam #sam winchester #luciferxyou #luciferxreader #luci x you #lucixyou #satan's in my dressing room

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ventrue-rosary · 6 years

Text

A Mothers Love

Short snipped of my latest dnd OC, a drow elf rogue Belladona Thornhill

A mother’s love is irreplaceable, and sometimes a tough burden to bear

Belladona peered out through the window, watching the snow lazily drift to the ground. Already it lay several inches.She couldn’t see it herself, but in her minds eye, deep in the midst of town, the adults celebrated with music, dancing and mulled one whilst their children chased each around the stalls, throwing fistfuls of snow at one another with breathless glee.

She rested her chin on her forearms. She so wished she could join them. With a sigh she hefted herself away from the window, in time to see Octavia entering. She had a coy smile on her face, and her hands were behind her back. Belladona watched her cautiously. The last time someone approached her with their hands behind their back was when her siblings pelted her with handfuls of pebbles.

Octavia must have sensed her trepidation as she presented what she was holding--a completely transparent pendant with a small feather inside, dangling from a silver chain.

‘You know what this is?’ she asked. Belladona shook her head. ‘It’s an owl-bear feather. Had to get it enchanted to fit in the pendant. But the best part--’ Octavia popped open the pendant and emptied the feather out on her palm. Once she did, it grew to twice the size of her palm. ‘You can use it as a quill, or braid it into your hair.’ Once the tip touched the pendant it shrunk again so she could easily drop it back in. ‘Happy Winters Crest festival.’

‘Mother will disapprove.’ Belladona recalled when Octavia snuck her a bowl of bread pudding on her tenth birthday. Her mother found out and beat her senseless.

Octavia shut her chambers’ door. ‘Mother does not have to find out.’ Octavia smoothed Belladona’s long, blue hair to one side and fastened the pendant around her neck. ‘There! Now we just need a gown and you’ll look just like a princess.’

Belladona caught sight of herself in the vanity mirror. All she could see was her ghoulish ice-blue skin, tresses of dark-blue hair and her black eyes tinged with crimson. She closed her eyes and heard the rabid screaming of her mother, felt her blows pelting down on her skin, and saw the sneering, mocking faces of her siblings. When she opened her eyes, she saw the monster they all despised so much.

‘I’m not a Princess, nor will I ever be.’

‘You are the daughter of a King and Queen, my dear.’

‘I don’t think family means much to them.’

Octavia squeezed her shoulder. ‘Well, no matter what happens, always remember you have a friend, and family, in me.’

Belladona wanted to ask why she was always so kind to her, but the question withered in her mouth. She was afraid the answer, afraid this was another of her family’s cruel japes, or that Octavia had some ulterior motive. So she remained quiet, and turned in her seat to wrap her arms around Octavia’s waist. For now, she would take whatever comfort came to her.

Dinner was a quiet affair. It was luxurious, a crackling pig, vegetables roasted in wine and herbs, and potatoes with the crispy skin on. But Belladona remained on alert. She noticed Malena and Adries stealing glances on her direction and snickering. It damaged her appetite somewhat. Her mother gave Belladona a glare when she didn’t touch her meal, so she grabbed her fork and drove it into her pile of creamed potatoes. When she pulled it out, she saw her meal was riddled with worms, maggots and centipedes. She flung the fork down with a shriek. Malena and Adries burst into laughter, bangin the edge of the table and clutching at their sides.

Olivia rounded on Belladona. ‘What, pray tell me is your excuse for all that noise! I have the kindness to extend you an invitation to my family’s meal and you start screaming like a banshee.’

Belladona pointed wordlessly to her plate. She couldn’t bring herself to look at it. Olivia sighed and strode over towards it. She looked up at her children, who were overcoming their laughing-fit and shook her head with a smile on her face.

‘This is rather a cruel joke,’ Octavia interjected, removing Belladona’s plate.

‘Children will be children. It’s what they do. Belladona could learn to have a sense of humour.’ Olivia stood, staring up at Octavia. ‘And never speak ill of my children ever again.’ Olivia spared Belladona a glare. ‘At least my children aren’t little monsters. Get her out of my sight.’

Octavia handed the spoiled plate to one of the kitchen staff and ushered Belladona out of the dining room and back to her chambers. Belladona sat at her vanity, miserably spinning Octavia’s gift between her thumb and index finger.

Octavia leaned against her door silently. It wasn’t like her to be so quiet. She always had a nugget of wisdom or inspiration to share. Belladonna glanced at her in the vanity mirror and saw she had her face pointed at the floor, hiding her features. She saw the tears splashing on the floor at her feet.

Belladona approached her then reached up and threw her arms around her shoulders. Octavia stilled, then returned her hug, her silent tears now audible sobs. They sunk to the floor together, Belladon awkwardly cradling the grown woman in her arms.

‘She’s just so...so horrible,’ Octavia rasped into Belladona’s hair. Octavia pulled back wiped away her tears and placed her hands on either side of her face. ‘How about we leave? The two of us. Blood be damned, we could be a family.’

Belladona couldn’t summon her words, so instead she just nodded. Octavia laughed through tears, hugging her briefly before standing. ‘We’ll pack light, that way it’ll be easier to slip past the guards and we’ll be able to move fasters.’ Octavia was already getting a pack together.

‘You mean...now?’

‘No time like the present. Your parents will be black-out drunk and the twin-terrors no doubt subjecting some poor animal to their cruelty.’ Octavia paused and resumed a seat besides her. ‘Are you afraid?’

Belladona nodded.

‘There’s no reason to. Soon we’ll be far away, Bella.’

‘You know I hate it when you call me that.’

‘That’s exactly why I do it.’ She ruffled her hair. ‘Come, help me pack. Let’s be away from here before midnight.’

It was still snowing outside. Belladona shoved her hands into her armpits in attempt to keep them warm. She hung back at the palace entrance as Octavia snuck ahead to check the coast was clear, and waited. Eventually Belladona became worried and decided to follow after her, rounding the corner into the courtyard.

‘Octavia, what’s--’ She stopped when she saw Olivia holding a fistful of Octavia’s hair, a dagger pressed to her throat.

‘It’s just me, I swear!’ she said.

‘Then why are that creatures clothes in your pack? And two of everything? Where is she!?’

Belladona quietly creeps forward, hoping the wind howling through the surrounding forest masks the crunch of the snow underfoot. Octavia hold up her hand in surrender to Olivia.

‘I...I admit, I stole them. Such fine clothes fetch a pretty price. I couldn’t start over without any coin.’

Olivia’s laugh is as bitter as the cutting wind. ‘You know, I might even believe you if I didn’t know you wasted your love on that brat.’

Belladona pulled out the dagger she had smuggled from the armoury and prepared herself for what she was about to do. Octavia’s eyes met Belladona’s. She shook her head slightly. Olivia mistook it as a response to her words, slightly relaxing her stance.

‘I’m not without mercy. Just tell me where she is and I will ensure you lose a hand, and not your head. But then again, you wouldn’t be as good a servant. So perhaps an eye, or maybe your tongue. I don’t like how you speak to the girl.’

Belladona leapt forward, and thrust the dagger into the exposed nape of her mother's neck. There was a horrific bubbling noise as air was sucked into her opened throat. Olivia lived long enough to turn and behold her killer. Her expression shifted from shock to hatred, and her hands reached out, groping for her daughter before collapsing face-down into the snow.

Octavia gingerly stepped over the body and took Belladona’s hand.

‘It’s ok, it’s ok,’ she whispered. Belladona didnt know which of them she was reassuring. ‘We should go.’

Belladona took one last look at the castle she grew up in. But she knew this would not be the last time she saw it. One day, she would return and finish what she started.

#belladona thornhill #dnd #my writing

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bloomsoftly · 7 years

Text

a place to rest my head

a thank you fic for @typhoidmeri. ❤️❤️❤️

pairing: darcy/steve (shieldshock) rating: g word count: 3748

(a million thanks to @ragwitch for her mad beta skills. xoxo)

The first time it happened, Darcy was absolutely positive it was an honest mistake on Steve’s part. Due to strange circumstances that were well above her pay grade, there was some hasty shifting of apartments in Avengers Tower. Well, of two apartments in particular. Completely out of the blue, Tony had demanded that Jane and Darcy switch apartments. But they couldn’t exactly argue with the man who owned the building, and so they were rather unceremoniously booted out of their home and ‘asked’ to trade with Steve Rogers, Captain America himself, all in the span of a couple of days.

To be perfectly fair to Jane, Darcy didn’t think anyone could say no to Captain Rogers’ earnest expression. Except she was pretty sure that the Captain wasn’t involved in the ruckus at all; he was out on a mission at the time. It only took a quick word from Tony, and they were moving apartments. It wasn’t like either of them was going to complain—for once they had access to all the high-quality, cutting edge equipment their little science-y hearts could desire (and the coffee was bangin’, too)—but Darcy was more than slightly bitter about the entire thing.

When she was woken up by the thump of something heavy falling onto the floor of her new bedroom, she was disoriented and extremely grumpy about the noise. Rubbing at bleary eyes, she shifted over onto her back and peered at the doorway. For a moment, her eyes struggled to adjust to the inky blackness and she couldn’t see anything at all.

“Jane?” She tried to ask, only to choke on a mouthful of hair. Huffing to herself sleepily, she realized that she’d forgotten to braid her hair back and there was a tangled mass of dark hair smothering her face. With heavy-weighted limbs—she and Jane were coming off a three-day science binge, and she’d really been looking forward to a full night’s rest—Darcy lazily swiped at the messy locks covering her face.

By the time she’d removed the obstruction to her vision, the room had fallen silent again. Darcy blinked blearily a couple of times into the darkness, but the room was still. To be honest, she was too exhausted to be truly scared, so she only grumbled to herself silently and rolled toward the middle of the bed. All she wanted to do was go back to sleep. She nuzzled her head into the pillow, already sliding into the welcoming arms of slumber—only for her eyes to jerk open again as the bed dipped with the weight of another body.

“What the hell—” she croaked, lurching upright and blinking into the dark. A soft snore answered her, and she was just able to make out a long, firm body stretched out on the bed next to her. She rubbed her eyes, but couldn't make out anything other than a vaguely male shape. Slightly scared and altogether sleepy, Darcy reached out with questing hands to examine the form. When her fingers met warm, slightly sticky skin, she opened her mouth to scream bloody murder. But then the unknown man shifted, rotating toward her. He let out a soft, exhausted groan, chest rising and falling beneath her tentative touch.

Darcy recognized that deep timbre; she’d fantasized about it more times than she’d ever admit. “Steve?” She whispered, foggy and wondering if she was still asleep. Her voice was hoarse and loud in the silence of the room, but it didn't seem to fully wake him up.

He did shift again, rolling his nude body—she was afraid to check if he was wearing underwear, wasn't sure what she wanted the answer to be and decided to leave it alone, as if his clothing situation was Schroedinger’s cat—to face her. A grumble escaped his throat again. “So…tired,” he slurred, punctuating the sentiment with another snore.

Clearly, the super soldier wasn't going anywhere until he'd gotten his rest. And Darcy should probably leave, go find a couch to crash on or something. She was exhausted, though. Besides, it was her room and her bed. A small, sadistic voice also pointed out that she'd been fantasizing about Steve in her bed for weeks, and she'd be a fool to pass the opportunity up. With a mixture of guilt and defiance churning in her gut, Darcy rolled back over and fell into a deep sleep.

Super soldiers were warm. Extremely warm, she found out. So warm that Darcy actually woke up thinking she was back in New Mexico, taking a sunbaked nap on the roof of the lab. Instead, it was Steve's chest pressed against her back, his arm a steel band around her waist. She took a moment to soak in the contact, then realized a couple of things in quick succession. One, that Steve was going to wake up any moment and it was going to be extremely Awkward™. Two, which she hadn't noticed before, was that he'd clearly fallen straight into bed immediately after the mission. Which meant no shower, which in turn meant that after several hours the room was smelling a bit ripe. Not quite enough to ruin the entire experience, of course, because she was being sleep-cuddled by Steve Rogers. She was definitely going to need a thorough washing of her sheets, though.

Despite the sense of impending doom, Darcy must've fallen asleep again as she waited for Steve to wake up. Next thing she knew, she was waking up to yet another loud thud. She bolted upright, and a muffled groan drew her gaze to the side of the bed. “Steve?”

His head popped over the edge of the bed frame immediately. “Darcy?” He scrubbed a trembling hand over his face, like he couldn't believe what he was seeing. Which, ouch. “What are you doing—” He cut himself off, looking around the bedroom that clearly wasn't his. “Where am I?”

“My bedroom,” she snapped, feeling guilty, as though she had somehow taken advantage of him. “To be fair, it was your bedroom first, I think. Tony made us switch apartments while you were gone.”

Steve sat on the ground, rolled up in the sheets from her bed that he'd taken with him as he toppled over the edge. When he still didn't say anything, she hugged a pillow to her chest and added defensively, “I didn't do anything to you. I would never. But you came stumbling into my room while I was sound asleep and I couldn't get you to wake up and I was so tired and—”

He blinked at her diatribe, then hastened to say, “No, I didn't think that. Not at all. I just—Tony never said anything and I—” He scraped a hand through his grimy hair, then looked with total horror at where his uniform lay crumpled on her floor. “Oh my god, I didn't even shower. I'm so sorry, Darcy.” He stumbled upright, and she tried to avert her eyes, she really did. But she caught a glimpse of dark fabric and knew that at least her nudity question had been answered. Probably for the best, really, considering his already-profound embarrassment. If he'd been naked, he might well have refused to ever look at her again.

She waved his apologies away. “Seriously, it's okay. I'll just put my sheets in the wash today, everything will be fine.”

Nodding distractedly from where he was attempting to break the sound barrier with the speed of his dressing, he mumbled, “Okay, if you're sure. I'm sorry, so sorry.” Without even looking at her, he headed for the door.

“Steve?” She called before he could disappear altogether.

His head snuck back into view, like a puppy waiting to be punished. She sighed, and let go of what she'd wanted to say. “We're good?”

“We're good,” was his response, unconvincingly delivered with a flat grin and tight lines around his eyes. As he vanished, she couldn’t shake off the sense that she'd lost something—something sweet and precious that hadn’t ever actually had the chance to begin.

When she stumbled out of her bedroom a few minutes later in desperate need of some coffee, Jane was already in the kitchen.

“Was that Captain America I just saw doing a walk of shame out of your bedroom, Darcy? Still in his uniform, no less.” Jane tsk’ed with an evil grin.

In reply, Darcy groaned and let her head fall forward to thud against the counter.

-:-

Steve avoided Darcy like the plague after the incident, as she and Jane had taken to calling it. Not that they’d ever had much reason to see each other in the first place, but still. It only took two or three times of him fleeing a room every time she walked in for her to get the point, and the other residents of the Tower were starting to give her odd looks. She tried not to take it too personally, figuring that he was probably still feeling awkward and embarrassed.

That hunch was proved correct when Tony himself stopped by the labs, mumbling some kind of vague apology for making them change apartments—not that he offered to let them change back, she noticed—winking at her, and then disappearing into his void of a workshop. Of course she knew that Steve had put him up to it; there’s no way Tony would ever apologize for something like that on his own. (He regularly hacked into her phone to ‘expand her infantile musical tastes’ and regularly refused to say thank you to any of the techs in the labs. The man was not the type to apologize on his own.) Steve continued to avoid her, though, and it hurt.

Needless to say, she was utterly surprised when he showed up in one of the common rooms at two o’clock in the morning as she was eating ice cream and watching trashy television. Even more surprising was that he plopped down next to her on the couch instead of running away. He was wearing a wrinkled pair of sweatpants and a soft t-shirt—stretched too tightly over his chest, as always. She tried, and failed, not to think about how much better he smelled this time. It was the kind of warm, inviting smell that made her want to cuddle up next to him and forget about her nightmares.

Resisting the urge, she focused on shoveling another bite of ice cream into her mouth. “I’m surprised you’re not immediately running away,” she mumbled, gaze boring into her innocent spoon. It gleamed dully up at her, taunting her with her cowardice.

She could practically feel his cringe. The sigh that escaped him vibrated through her body; she hadn’t realized he was sitting so close to her. “I’m sorry, Darcy. I panicked, I know. I was so embarrassed, and I didn’t know how to face you after that.”

With a rueful laugh, she pointed out, “But it’s been like two months. I never even blamed you for any of it. And yet,” she said, pointing her spoon at him, “you still leave the room every time I enter.”

His face fell. “I’ve been an idiot, I know. And I’m sorry. Can you forgive me?”

The man knew how to pull off the apologetic pout, she’d give him that. Chuckling to cover her weakness, she joked, “Can I get that statement on record?”

Grinning in relief, he said, “Sure. Just—can you please not show it to Tony?”

“No promises.” She bumped his shoulder with hers. They settled into the couch together, leaning back against the comfortable cushions.

“So. What are you watching?”

“Whatever’s on. Sometimes my brain is too loud. Trashy television seems to work.” Something about the late hour made her confess, “I still have nightmares, sometimes. From New Mexico. And London.”

“I know all about those.” As he spoke, his eyes were dark with remembered pain. Not knowing what else to do, she dropped her head to his shoulder. His arm came up to cradle her against him, wrapping around her shoulder and pulling her into his body.

“Well, maybe trashy TV will help you, too.” Darcy gently rubbed her cheek against his shoulder, hoping fervently that he couldn’t hear the thready thrum of her heartbeat.

“Maybe.” His chin dropped to rest on the crown of her head, and neither of them moved an inch.

She woke up sometime in the middle of the night surrounded by Steve’s body heat yet again. They were horizontal, now, with Darcy’s torso draped over his. It was warm and comfortable, and she had no intention of moving. He’d just have to suck it up this time, and get over his embarrassment before it even started. With that defiant thought, she nuzzled against his chest and allowed herself to drift off again. Before she fell asleep, though, she felt something soft running through her hair over and over, from her scalp down to the middle of her back. It was soothing, and she was lost to the gentle pull of the rhythm within moments.

When she woke up, her face was mashed into one of the couch cushions and her sleeping companion was gone.

-:-

Honestly, part of her expected that Steve would go back to avoiding her again, but he didn’t.

Instead, the opposite seemed to be true. More often than not, he found his way into Darcy’s path. It was like he had a homing beacon for when she was avoiding her nightmares, snacking on some kind of junk food in the middle of the night. It made sense in a weird, lonely sort of way, that one insomniac would find another. Like there was some sort of glaring signal screaming ‘I’m afraid and alone’ that guided him to her.

Their mutual insomnia increased in frequency, until they found themselves tangled together almost every night. What his excuse was, she didn’t know. But Darcy found it hard to sleep alone in her own bed when she knew that he was probably awake somewhere in the tower, ready to be cuddled. If that made her pathetic, she didn’t really care.

More often than not she woke at some point in the night, wrapped in his arms. He'd have her cuddled to him, her head pillowed on his firm chest, one arm around her back and the other stroking her hair. The first couple of times, she wasn’t sure it was happening, wondering if it was her sleep-deprived imagination. It kept happening, though, and eventually she became sure. She wanted to say something, anything about it, but never had the energy to figure out the perfect words. And every time she woke up again, he was already gone. The smell of his aftershave lingered on the cushions, otherwise she might've thought she really was going insane.

The next night, though, they were right back at it, and the routine started all over again.

The unspoken rule of silence surrounding their little dance began to wear at her, deepening the dark circles under her eyes and gouging permanent worry marks into her lower lip. Darcy felt as though she was caught in a loop of impossible choices: she couldn’t stay away from him, her heart wouldn't let her. Yet, every night she spent cuddled up next to him was followed by a day of pretend ignorance, and she felt as though it was tearing her apart.

On one such morning, Darcy lingered in her position stretched out on the common room for a few minutes after she woke, eyes kept firmly shut against the growing light of day. She didn’t want to face the emptiness of the room. But her fantasies of how the night could’ve gone couldn’t hold her forever, and eventually she had to force herself to move. You’re being ridiculous, Darce, she chastised herself. It’s not like you have any claim to him, no matter how hard you hold onto him at night. Rubbing at her eyes tiredly—she deserved extra caffeine today, she decided—she reached for her glasses and frowned in confusion.

There was an unfamiliar leather-bound book resting on the table. Curiosity got the better of her, and before she could decide whether it was a good idea or not, the book was falling open in her lap and she was thumbing through it with fascination. Her jaw dropped at the talent captured within the pages; they were Steve’s sketches, that was clear. Images of the Brooklyn of his youth, people he’d known and never talked about. Not to her, at least. This was clearly a huge invasion of his privacy, and Darcy shoved the journal away from her with a heavy, guilty heart. She pushed too hard, though, and it toppled to the floor.

With immediate remorse, she bent to scoop it up and deposit it gently on the table. She froze halfway through the motion, staring down at the book in awe. There, staring up at her from its careworn pages, was her own likeness. Brushing a fingertip over the charcoal lines, Darcy blinked around the tears welling in her eyes. She was beautiful. He’d drawn her in a million different poses: blinking heavily over a steaming cup of coffee, sound asleep and wrapped in a knitted blanket, staring out a rainy window. The thing that struck her the most about it, though, was the care with which he’d drawn her face. In every image, the lines were precise and tender, as if he’d spent hours memorizing them. Her fingers lingered, tracing the flow of the sketches across the page.

Her heart pulsed against her ribs, hard and quick, suffusing her veins with an intolerable warmth. With color rushing to her cheeks, the weight of her revelations leaving her faint and dizzy, she asked, “FRIDAY, is Steve in the Tower?” Surely he wouldn’t have left something precious within easy discovery of other people, not on purpose. Darcy had certainly never seen it before.

“No, Miss Lewis. Captain Rogers was called to assemble early this morning.” The AI sounded vaguely apologetic, and Darcy wondered whether it was capable of feeling sympathy. Suddenly, she was curious what this strange dance between the two of them looked like to the AI, then shook away the fanciful thought. “Would you like me to relay a message to him for you?”

“No,” the young woman answered thoughtfully. “But thank you.”

“You’re welcome, Miss Lewis.”

Carefully, Darcy closed the journal and put it back where she’d found it. With a brain full of half-formed plans and ideas, she left the room.

-:-

Although Darcy made her way to the common room—to their couch, as she’d begun to think of it—every night, she didn’t see Steve again for almost another week. When she did, he’d beat her there. There was a bowl of half-melted ice cream on the coffee table (no journal in sight, she noted with interest), and some kind of cooking show quietly broadcasting from the TV.

He looked up with a tired grin as she entered the room, a strange expression flitting across his face. She almost wanted to call it relief, but didn’t know what he had to be relieved about. He looked exhausted, and she told him so. “Damn, Steve. What happened? You look like shit.”

Steve’s grin morphed into a huff of quiet laughter, and he shrugged in acknowledgment. “Wasn’t the best mission,” was all he said, lifting his arm so that she could slide into her usual spot cuddled against his side. “But we’re home now. I haven’t been getting much sleep.”

With her heart beating like a drum, so loud it was drowning out her own thoughts, she leaned away from him. His eyes were blue and curious, and she almost lost her nerve. “Well, I imagine sleeping on a couch isn’t gonna help with that.”

His face was blank for an excruciating second as he suppressed a flinch of hurt. It was brief, a flash of emotion before he shielded it and started to pull away. “You’re right, I’m sorry—”

“Luckily—” It was hard to get the word out over her pounding heart, lungs seizing and collapsing around what little air she’d taken in. She was too loud, trying to hear herself over her racing pulse, and he fell silent. “Luckily, we already know that my bed is big enough for the two of us.”

Standing on shaky legs, she held a hand out to him. He stood, but didn’t take it, leaving it to hover in the air between them as he examined her expression.

“Darcy, what are you saying?”

Expelling the air she hadn’t realized she’d been holding, she took a deep breath. Her heart still wouldn’t settle, so she took another. Finally, she was in control of herself enough to murmur, “I’m tired of being in limbo, Steve. And I want you to come to bed with me. What—what do you say?” Her tongue was tacky and heavy in her mouth, thick and clumsy and choking on her words.

All of a sudden, his entire demeanor relaxed. The rigidness of the Captain persona was gone, and only sweet, earnest, sassy Steve was left.

“I’d say—” he grinned, something wicked and playful and light, “—that I’m glad you’re braver than I am, sweetheart. And that I hope you’ve cleaned your sheets since the last time I was in your bed.”

She snorted at that and looked away, hiding her expression as he finally took her hand. “Give me some credit, Rogers. When I say that I love the way you smell, that doesn’t actually include your sweaty grossness after missions, okay?”

Ignoring the important part of the statement, Steve stepped closer—so close she had to tilt her head to look up at him. “You love the way I smell?”

Rolling her eyes, Darcy started down the hall. “I do. Is that a problem?” It was strange, feeling so shy around him. As though everything had changed. Her insides swooped and fluttered, over and over until she couldn’t tell up from down. She felt disoriented and giddy all at once.

Steve pulled her to a stop, swinging in front of her. He tilted her chin back with a knuckle, waiting silently until her eyes met his. “Darcy, there is absolutely nothing about this that could even remotely be considered a problem.”

And then, as she was parsing through that statement to try and understand his meaning, his head tilted toward hers.

She rose to her tiptoes to meet him halfway, and their lips brushed for the first time.

#shieldshock #darcy x steve #darcyland #thank you fic

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artificialqueens · 7 years

Text

Be Cruel to Me, Because I’m a Fool For You (Vatya) 3/3 - Honey

A/N: So this is the last part. Sorry it took so long to write, I was busy. I went to drag con and met Violet, so that was cool. Send me requests on my blog if you want me to write a Vatya story for you, if it’s interesting I’ll do it. Thanx. Leave a comment or whatever.

“I have to get up early tomorrow,” Violet said as soon as Katya entered her room. She was sitting on the edge of her bed, facing away from Katya. He watched the rise and fall of her bare shoulders as she breathed. The muscles in her back looked tense, and she was gripping the bedsheets tightly.

“Great. I don’t care.” Katya’s tone made her flinch ever so slightly. She was used to him ignoring her brattiness and putting up with her sass. “Do you wanna tell me why you’re mad at me? Huh? Because I’ve combed through all my memories, several times, and I can’t think of anything that I did to piss you off.” He realized that he was raising his voice, growing louder with every word. “You didn’t do anything wrong, Katya,” Violet said with a sigh.

“Violet, please just tell me what I did. You know I would never want to hurt you. I- I- I’ll do anything to make it up to you, I swear.” Violet remained facing away from him. She continued her silence as Katya walked closer to the bed. “Violet, look at me. What’s wrong?”

Violet stood up and turned around, facing Katya. “I don’t know what’s wrong, okay? I don’t know. I’m just… tired. I’m so tired. Katya…” Her voice cracked. Katya stared at her. This was a side of Violet that was rarely seen by anyone. He didn’t quite know how to handle it; should he hug her or give her space? Was she going to cry?

Violet sniffled, and then turned away from him once again. She absolutely hated letting anyone see her cry. Taking a few deep breaths, she tried to calm herself down.

“Violet, it’s okay. You’re allowed to cry.” She froze for a few seconds, and then sat down on the edge of the bed once again and covered her face with her hands. Katya walked over to the other side, so that he was facing her. He grabbed her wrists gently and pulled her hands away from her face, and then pulled her in towards him so her face was pressed against his stomach. The position was pretty awkward, him standing over her while she cried into his shirt, but he continued to hold her head against him tightly.

After a few minutes, Katya released her and bent down so that they were face to face. He wiped away some of the wetness on her cheeks with his thumbs, gently cupping the sides of her face. Violet hiccupped a bit and looked down at her knees.

“Violet, I miss you. I miss texting you, and talking at night, and waking up with you. I barely ever get to see you and when I do, you don’t wanna hang out with me anymore. I’m sorry for whatever I did, but if you don’t tell me why you’re mad at me, I might make you mad again.”

Violet looked up at him and sniffled. “I’m not mad at you.”

“You’re not?”

“Of course not. I’m just… sad.” Katya sat down on the bed next to Violet. Although he was relieved to find out that he hadn’t done anything to anger her, he was still puzzled and wanted Violet to explain her behavior.

“Yeah, it’s nice when we’re together, but you always have to leave. Or I have to leave. And not to sound corny, but my heart like… hurts. After you leave, I mean. It makes me sad for, like, a week. Sometimes longer. I thought… I guess…” Violet turned her head and looked at Katya in the eyes. “When we spend the whole night together and talk, and laugh, and cuddle, it makes me feel like I have a normal life. Because those are normal things to do with someone you… care about. But I don’t have a normal life, and we don’t have a normal relationship. I’m never home, I can barely see my friends, I can’t even think about dating someone. It’s better for me to just cut everyone off and focus on work for a while.”

“Then why do you still call me to come over and fuck you?”

Violet looked away. He could tell she was trying to keep her tears in again. “I can’t help it. I like you too much to stop,” she whispered. Katya hated seeing Violet like this. He could tell she was torn up inside, trying to fight off her feelings and keep her guard up. She was always so focused on proving that she was strong, but Katya already knew this. He didn’t want her to try and prove anything to him.

Wrapping his arm around her, he grabbed her head and gently tilted it until it leaned on his shoulder. “I like you too much to stop, too,” Katya said with a sigh. “And I do miss you when I leave, but it’s okay because I always know there’s going to be a next time. Or I thought I knew that. Until you kinda started acting different. And then I wasn’t sure. And that made me really sad, Violet. I like you a whole lot. We get along so well, and I really admire you. Plus, you’ve got a bangin’ body and a tight little ass.” Violet giggled, for the first time that night, and pushed Katya off of her.

“Bitch, shut up!” The two shared a laugh, and then fell into a comfortable silence, before Katya spoke again.

“Look, Vi, I really do miss you. I’ll do anything to make you feel better. I don’t think you should fight your feelings anymore. It’ll wear you out. Why don’t you just tell me what you really want from me?” Violet’s face fell. She frowned and looked down, and then took a deep breath.

“Katya, I want more. I’m sorry, but I want more. I wanna see you more often, and I wanna eat dinner with you, and I wanna talk to you all the time, and I wanna kiss you when we aren’t having sex, and… I wanna do cheesy shit that people do when they’re… umm… when they’re…”

“A couple?” Katya finished for her. Violet looked up at him with the saddest expression he had ever seen her make.

“I’m sorry Katya. I’m so sorry. I know you don’t want all that with me. I’m not tryna make you feel weird. I- I don’t know. I just…” She trailed off. Her bottom lip began to quiver again.

“Whoa whoa whoa, when did I say I didn’t want that with you, Violet?” Katya asked. Violet looked at him, her mouth hanging open.

“But… but… I thought… I just thought you liked what we had because there were no strings attached, and you didn’t have to commit?”

“No, I liked what we had because I got to spend time with you. And have sex with you. That was a big part of it too.” He grinned at her until she was smiling slightly as well. “Listen, we can work something out. I can come see you when I don’t have a gig, and you can come see me when you don’t. You can text me whenever, and when we’re far apart, we can FaceTime. I’m totally fine putting effort in for you, because I like you a lot. Seeing you so sad kind of breaks my heart, Violet.” Violet just stared at him for a second. Katya couldn’t read her expression; he wasn’t sure if she was going to laugh or cry. Suddenly, she lunged at him, pushing his back down so he was laying on her bed. She climbed on top of him and started kissing him all over his face. Katya laughed, and then grabbed her face and brought her lips to his, kissing her hard. She pulled back and looked into his eyes.

“Okay, I need to go to bed now. I really do have a fitting tomorrow morning.”

“Well, can I still stay the night?”

“Yeah.”

“Good, I wasn’t gonna leave anyways, even if you said no.”

#vatya #honey #violet chachki #katya zamolodchikova #rpdr fanfiction #bctm #canon compliant

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