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#today is the funeral and it’s going to be really difficult
harmonizewithechoes · 2 years
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We're going to a funeral tomorrow (my husband's grandma that he wasn't close to and I only met once) and I'm really anxious about it (which feels shitty because it's not my relative that died, it's not about me in any way. if I could just turn my anxiety off I would 😔)
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bg-brainrot · 7 months
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The Thousandth Time (Astarion x GN!Tav)
Featuring: Astarion x Rogue!Tav
Series: Fits into Love at First Knife, AO3 link here
Rating: Explicit, 18+
Summary: Astarion and Rogue!Tav make love for the thousandth time. In a bathtub.
Tags: Smut, Slice of life, POV Second Person, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Fluff, Spawn Astarion, Post-Canon, bathtub sex, sloppy sex, seriously just sickeningly sweet smut, Spawn Astarion, Post-Canon, Established Relationship, Domesticity is romantic, Hand Jobs, Blood Drinking
A/N: Some context-- I wanted to write soft, gender neutral smut. And by the gods is this soft. I tried to look at what it's like to love someone for so long. In my experience, when you've been with someone for so many years, you still find a lot of love in the little things. which I hope I hit? Anyway, enjoy!!
Word count: ~5.3k
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The thousandth time you make love to Astarion, you don't know it's the thousandth time.
It's a day like any other, really.
After a long day at the guild, you've arrived home, a sigh on your lips, a furrow to your brow.
"Whatever is the matter, my dear?"
You compose your expression and turn toward your lover. "Astarion," you start, a reflexive wistfulness to your tone. Gods are you glad to see him after a day like today. "Nothing is the matter. Nothing important anyway. Simply glad to be home."
Astarion gives you a look that says he doesn't quite believe you, but knows better than to pry too deeply into issues you'd rather not bring home. "Very well, darling. But you know I'm all pointy ears. Especially if Nine-Fingers has been difficult again."
"Ugh," you say, wincing in annoyance. "Do not say her name right now."
The vampire gives you a bright, toothy laugh. "That bad, eh?" You nod. He walks toward you, arms outstretched. "Mmm in that case, shall we call it an early night tonight?"
You dive into the comfort of his arms, holding him to you, inhaling his fresh, familiar scent. It feels like the day's troubles melt in his cold embrace, and the tension in your body finally relaxes. "That might be nice."
"Dinner first?" he asks, pulling away from you slightly.
You look into his warm crimson eyes, feel that same warmth reflected in your face. Of course, he’d check to see if your mortal needs have been met. "No need, I've eaten. How about you?"
Astarion brings a hand up to inspect your face, this way, then that. It’s as if he’s examining you for injury, not assessing if he can partake in a bit of your blood. "Mmm, you seem a tad tired, love."
"You know I'll manage. Besides, get my blood while it's still boiling with rage," you say, craning your neck for him in response.
"As delectable as that sounds,” he begins, letting go of your face, tracing his fingers along your neck. “I think a bath and bed ought to come first."
You want to argue the point, make sure he's fed to the best of your ability, but the yawn that escapes you is irrefutable. With nary another word, his hand is on the small of your back, guiding you toward the bath.
"Would you like to join me?" you ask him as you open the door. Your expression is calm, the question harboring no hidden intentions. Any other day, you may have raised an eyebrow at him suggestively, begun taking off your armor in a tease– but you're tired, simply not wanting to relinquish the feel of his arms around you.
"Certainly, if it keeps you from falling asleep in the tub…" he trails off, looking at you warily. He appears torn, somewhere between keeping you from drowning and keeping you from resting.
You give him a wry smile. “Imagine that. After felling all manner of beasts and men, finally succumbing to the tub.”
Astarion offers you a reluctant smile in return. “My love, I swear to every god above and below, if you die in any manner even remotely that ludicrous, I shall have to pretend not to know you at your funeral.”
“That’s fair,” you say, holding a hand out to him. “Best to make sure that doesn’t happen then, don’t you think?”
The man can’t argue with that, nor does he seem to want to. After an entire day away from each other, this closeness is exactly what the two of you crave. So he takes your offered hand, and follows you into the bathroom.
It has been years since you had added a tub big enough for the two of you in your house. While the two of you had accrued wealth enough for an entire bathhouse, you’d settled for a more modest setup. At least, modest in Astarion’s eyes.
The floor is made of the finest marble tiles, the walls of intricately laid and patterned brick. And in the center of the room, is the room’s main attraction: the enormous, magical tub. It’s long enough that you could comfortably lay down across the entire bottom, wide enough that you have to extend your arms to reach both sides. The outer edges are infused with enchantments to improve your bathing experience, and the tub itself is made of the highest quality crystal that gold can buy.
Once you enter the room, you activate the heat and water sigils along the basin’s edges and turn back to Astarion. “Would you mind grabbing some soaps from the shelf?”
He gives you a lopsided grin, eyes crinkling with amusement, but still moves to do as you ask. “Would you also like me to bathe you while I’m at it?”
“Oh, would you?” you ask half-joking. You begin to strip your armor off, piece by piece.
“Mmm,” he murmurs, picking out a few of his preferred scents from a shelf on the wall. He’s accumulated quite the collection now, enjoying mixing and matching as his nose guides him. “That could be arranged.”
You’re almost halfway through your armor when he returns, bottles of lemon, bergamot, and sage soaps in hand. “Ah, you know how much I love bergamot,” you say, smiling at it fondly, pausing halfway through undoing your leather straps.
“I know,” he says, placing them next to the tub before turning his attention fully to you. “I also know that you need help with that armor or we may be here all night.”
Holding your arms out wordlessly, Astarion starts to unbuckle each and every strap from the front of your padded armor. As he releases you from its confines, you take a deep, relieved breath and say, “Thank you, love.”
“It’s my pleasure,” he murmurs, leaving a long lingering touch along your now exposed collarbone. “While you strike quite the image in your armor, I think I much prefer you without.”
You laugh, feeling quite light in the now steaming room. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say your mind is straying quite far from rest, Astarion.”
The vampire shrugs, beginning to tug at your undershirt and small clothes with each of his hands. “Merely stating fact, my darling.”
With a few smooth movements, he’s taken off the last of your clothing, exposing every inch of you to the warmth of the room and the heat of his gaze. He seems just about ready to bury his head in your neck, begin covering every piece of you in kisses, when you speak, “Excuse me, are you planning to enter the bath in your house clothes?”
Astarion looks down at his own garb, the comfortable satins and silks of a man who spent the day lounging at home. When faced with your words and, ugh, logic, he says with a sigh, “Would you do the honors?”
You need no more invitation before your hands are on his soft, flowing shirt, running along it appreciatively. “Is this new?”
“It is,” he says, a hint of pride in his voice. “Do you like it?”
“It feels magnificent,” you respond, beginning to undo its buttons. “I may just have to steal it for myself one of these days.”
His lips purse at you. “You know, you could simply ask, darling.”
“Where’s the fun in that?” you taunt, pulling up on the shirt's edges, tugging it up and off of him. Now, faced with the plane of his ivory chest, your fingers act on instinct. They trail down his shoulders, trace the line of his pectorals, drop down the center of his stomach to the waist of his pants.
Astarion gives you a low, approving noise before asking you wryly, “Now whose mind is straying?”
“Not mine,” you respond, pulling his pants and underwear down in one smooth motion. “My hands are just so tired, I’m sure you understand.”
“Surely,” he responds, as he pulls each foot out of his pant legs. “How is the water?”
The bath is steaming by now, visibly fogging up the room, but still, you bend down to skim your hands along its surface. “Ah, it’s warm,” you say, gripping the edge with one hand. “Maybe too warm?”
“No such thing,” he responds, and one of his hands lands next to yours as he bends down to feel the water for himself. The man gives a happy hum before asking, “Shall we then?” Then his now-wet hand is smacking your butt, his head gesturing toward the waiting water. 
“Excuse you,” you say, indignantly, as you turn toward him. “I'm tired.” But you don't feel tired. Not after running your hands over his cold skin. Not after feeling the quick contact of his hand on your backside.
“Not to worry, darling. I’ll take care of you.”
As in, bathing or–? Luckily you don't have much more time to think about it before he’s lowering himself into the tub. Even with his quick movement, even with the water’s slight obscurity, you easily note that Astarion’s cock has stirred in interest.
Ah. While you hadn’t meant to illicit anything by inviting him… it’s certainly not unwelcome. It’s a good thing that your exhaustion is all but melting away under his loving touches.
Acutely aware of his sharp gaze on the length of your back, you turn to face away from him, grab the edge of the tub, and slowly enter its warmth. As was customary in your baths, he would start with your back, so you take a spot in front of him, leaving just enough room for him to settle behind you as he pleases.
Too much room clearly, as Astarion immediately scoots forward, extending his legs to each side of you. You feel his hardening length graze your backside as he does so and can’t help the smile that curves your lips.
"Astarion, dear,” you start, placing your hands on each of his knees under the water. “Are you certain you want to bathe me?"
“And why wouldn't I be?” He leans closer, planting a soft kiss along your spine.
You debate backing up into his groin to prove a point but instead shake your head. "No reason, I suppose."
He begins by lathering his hands in a mixture of soaps, carefully measured out by eye and feel. All the while, you sit before him, hands on each of his calves, thumbs repeatedly rubbing the ridge of his muscles. While he’d had a nice, calm day today, his calves are always so tight from sneaking about– and it’s the least you can do for the man that’s bathing you.
Then his hands get to work.
At first he drags both hands along your back, once, twice. Once he’s made sure that soap covers every inch of you, he starts massaging you, working the soap into your skin, kneading into your sore muscles.
Astarion knows your body so intimately and, after so many years of tending to each other, he rubs all of your tightest spots. His knuckles press deep into your neck. His fingers work around your upper back. His thumbs dig underneath the edges of your shoulder blades, working out the knots he knows lay beneath. And, by the gods, if you thought you’d been melting under his caresses before, now you’re practically a puddle.
You can’t help the noises that come out at the sensation of his nimble fingers at work. Your shoulders ache from a long day of sneaking, stabbing, and general tension of dealing with people– the relief is palpable in the way you relax into his touch, grip his legs, and release several breathy moans.
And with each moan, you can feel his cock growing firmer against you. After the first few, you can feel him shift closer with every noise he draws from you. Knowing your affect on him has always done something to stir the fire in you, and this time it has you shifting uncomfortably as heat blooms between your legs. The both of you spur the other’s building lust, all the while the fresh scent that Astarion’s concocted permeates the air.
Then, when it’s clear he’s done with your back, thoroughly satisfied with each gasping breath of pleasure, his hands drop from your shoulders. They tail down your back, playing along your spine. And, in an almost leisurely motion, they wrap around your torso, where they finally settle on your chest.
I don’t think this is a relaxing bath anymore, you think distantly. Yet you’re unable to resist leaning into his palms, arching into his touch.
Sensing your shuffles, Astarion curls further into your back, almost entirely flush to you now. His fingers feel their way to each of your nipples, first gently brushing against them, then thumbing over them each in turn. They respond eagerly, perking up under his delicate sweep.
“Astarion,” you begin, turning your head back to him slightly and raising an eyebrow. “What are you doing?” Your tone isn’t exactly admonishing– your voice comes out too quiet, desire muffling all other emotions.
His hands trail down your chest, past the surface of the bath water, settling on each of your thighs before he responds, voice low, lips inches away from your ear. “Making sure that every single centimeter of my beautiful darling is clean, of course.”
“Astarion, I thought you would be, ahh… taking care of me," you say, barely holding on to your trail of thought as his hands dip between your legs, brushing your sensitive core.
“I am taking care of you,” he whispers, finally closing the remaining distance between your back, his front. At the feel of his stiff cock pressing against your back, you give an involuntary gasp. He seems to enjoy your reaction, taking a moment to slowly grind the entire length of his hardened arousal along your backside once, before he settles between your cheeks. “Unless you’d rather leave all of this stress pent up, my dear?”
You’d been tired– been ready to bathe and head off to bed. But something about this man never fails to ignite the fire in your heart– or your loins. “I suppose not,” you murmur, releasing Astarion’s calf, running up his leg with your fingers, landing on his arm, gripping it closer to you.
“I knew you would see reason,” he says, taking your grip as guidance. His hand moves down to begin stroking your heat, building up steadily to the fast-paced rhythm he knows you like. In the water’s buoyant embrace, his actions feel a touch more fluid, his fingers more silken.
It has taken time experimenting together to reach this place– one of utmost security and intimate knowledge of each others’ bodies. But now that you’re here, you’ve found that Astarion’s agile fingers are obscenely precise in their movements. Like he knows exactly which pins to tumble to unlock your utmost excitement.
So you can't help the way you buck into his touch, nor the way the water sloshes around you both in response.
"Careful, love," he says, hand stilling. "We don't want to make a mess this time, do we?"
Somewhere in the back of your mind, you remember the last time this had happened, how the floor had been practically flooded. You should agree with him, make sure that such an incident doesn't occur again. But the front of your mind is wholly occupied, thinking only of how he's stopped moving his hand, how being careful may mean that he takes it too gently. "Mmm, we managed to clean it up well enough," you respond, jerking your hips back, pressing against him with need.
Astarion's laughter rings upon the bathroom's stone walls, before it turns into a groan as you roll your hips once more. His voice is a bit huskier when he responds, "You know we’re going to regret it later.”
You smile back at him, satisfied with the noise you’ve elicited. “Sounds like a problem for later, doesn’t it?” Then your hand squeezes his arm, motioning it back down to your now throbbing arousal. “For now, what was that about releasing my stress?”
“Oh very well… in that case, let’s find where you ache most, shall we?” Astarion murmurs, dipping his head, placing a kiss on the base of your neck. “Here?” Your shoulder. “Or perhaps here?” Then his hand settles back between your legs, fingers touching you in a rather delicate caress. “Or maybe here?”
You hum a noise of approval as his . “Oh, there.”
His fingers close on your swollen sex, rubbing languidly as he whispers in your ear, “Mmm, darling. So much tension…” A bit more pressure. “I must simply…” A bit faster pace. “Massage it all away…”
If anything, his touches cause you to grasp at his legs harder, all of the muscles in your body responding in kind to his ministrations. Your back arches instinctively, earning an exquisite groan from Astarion. So when his next stroke causes you to clench, you lean into it, grinding your ass back into the full length of his erection, sliding easily in the water’s low friction.
His other hand finds its way to your hip, helping you match his pace as you continue to rock into him.
The two of you fall into a beautiful, raucous rhythm, each open and generous with your vocal pleasure, the water’s regular splashes punctuating each movement.
“Yes, yes, gods, Astarion.”
“My sweet, you’re the only divine thing here.”
Then your words begin to lose sense, your rhythm begins to falter, and it’s clear that you won’t last much longer under his caring fingers.
You also know that Astarion hasn’t been tended to nearly as well as you have.
So you move to turn toward him. With how his full length twitches against you in urgency, your own nimble fingers ought to return the favor.
Astarion stops you, placing his unoccupied hand back on your chest to hold you in place. "Ah ah ah. Love, I'm here to help you."
"You are helping,” you start, pushing back against his hand. “But I don’t want to leave you like this.” ‘This’ is obvious as the man clearly exercises every ounce of self control he has judging from the visible veins on his arm, the way his legs squeeze reflexively around you each time he strokes you.
He gives you a reluctant groan, one that does nothing to hide his desire. “Must you always be so selfless?” His hand doesn’t release your chest though, and he begins tracing delicate, wet circles around one of your nipples, as he murmurs, “Fine, just let me continue.”
Staying in place for him, you reach back with one hand to feel for his cock. It’s almost unreal how naturally you slot around him, the way your fingers circle around its girth. The entire length, inch-by-inch, the pattern of his veins, the sensitive lip of his head– they’re all intimately familiar to you now. As is finding just the right grip, the right pace.
When you start to pump him in earnest, Astarion can't help but shudder, his movements losing their steady, pulsing beat. In losing his pace, he takes on a new one– erratic, a bit fumbling, but utterly intoxicating.
You're both stoking each other’s fires in tandem, wildly offset in your desperation to touch each other more and more and more. 
The water feels almost cool compared to your heated core, to the sweet friction you're building together.
Astarion's face tilts into your back, grunting as he strains to right his tempo– his forehead presses against you, his cool exhale grazes your searing skin. His chilled touch is a reprieve in the sweltering fog of steam and heady lust. Hearing your sigh of relief, he seems all too willing to make more contact.
His lips crash onto your back roughly, and his fangs nick your skin. An involuntary shiver runs through your body as you imagine the pleasure his drinking evokes from you. As you imagine the man behind you lapping at your neck, moaning in satisfaction, flushed pink with your very blood–
"Take some blood,” you offer, breathless. Imagining would never be enough, you find yourself craving the real deal. So when you say your next word, it comes out more pleading than you intend, “Please."
“Whatever my dearest desires,” Astarion replies, voice low and rumbling. He removes the hand from your chest and places it on your shoulder, holding you in place as he places his lips at the crook of your neck. His nose rubs gently against your fleshly washed skin. “Mmm, you smell so good.”
Then his fangs pierce you.
When you first began your relationship, you hadn’t intended to enjoy his bites as much as you do, but after years and years of them, the pain hardly registers now. All you feel is close– So very close to the man you would gladly give your lifeblood to.
He draws a gulp, and you feel the blood course through you, into him.
Another drink, and heat builds in you as you feel his cock grow harder in your hand, his veins more prominent.
A third long pull of your blood, and you feel his fingers quicken at your aching arousal.
You jerk into his hand in reaction, trying to seek an outlet for your pleasure. Your mouth emits a whimper– you hadn’t been comfortable whimpering with Astarion at first, but after he drew one out of you, he couldn’t get enough.
He still can’t, and you feel his lips curl into a smile at your neck, his fingers move with more urgency.
All the while you continue stroking his length, fingers sloppy in your own hazy state. It doesn’t seem like you need your usual dexterity though, because Astarion is practically writhing with newfound reactivity. Drinking blood always leaves him especially sensitive.
One last shaky swallow and he removes his fangs from your neck. But not his mouth. His tongue begins lavishing your puncture wound furiously as he struggles to hold back his approaching peak.
With the way he haphazardly tilts his hips into you, it’s all too evident to you that he’s reaching his limit. He’s not afraid to tell you so either.
"My sweet," he all but moans into your ear. "I–I can't last much longer. May I?"
You know what he means, and you honestly can’t last much longer either– you’re positively light-headed from a mixture of bliss and blood loss. So you stop your movements, nod your addled head at him.
He removes his hands from your core and neck, reaching out to your legs. Pulling them out and apart, he shuffles behind you, moving impatiently.
Realizing he can’t do this alone, he gestures, motioning for you to put your legs up.
Still a bit dizzy, you carefully place each leg on either side of the tub’s edges, hooking yourself in place by the ankles. It feels a precarious balance, but you can hardly care when you’re this eager to have Astarion inside you.
Astarion seems just as eager, rubbing his length against your ass hungrily as you get into position.
Perched and ready for him, the man is quick to help once more– his hands grip your asscheeks and lift in a swift movement. You’re particularly buoyant in the water, and you rise higher than either of you had expected. Your hand instinctively reaches out, gripping the edge of the tub to brace yourself, and you hear Astarion give a deep chuckle from behind you.
Holding back your own almost giddy excitement, you try to compose yourself for him. Angling your hips up, you’re almost floating on the water for a moment as Astarion lines the tip of his cock with your entrance.
However, you’re instinctively clenching a second later when a pair of your lover’s fingers tease at your opening. You barely avoid clamping your legs back together at the sensation. 
Recovering from the tickling probe, you look back to see a lust-drunk fanged smile, lips smeared with red. "Astarion, please,” you mutter. “I can't balance like this all day."
"Come darling, I know you’re quite talented," he taunts, easily gliding his fingers back in, curling until you truly do begin to lose balance.
"Astarion," you breathe out, clutching the side of the tub even harder to stay afloat.
Then his fingers slip back out, replaced a moment later by the head of his cock. “No need to worry, I have a seat for you right here.”
His palms cup your backside, his fingers squeeze, as you lower your hips back down, taking in his entire, slick length effortlessly in the water.
“Now isn’t that better?” he asks, grabbing your hips with one hand, the other finding yours on the side of the tub for support.
“Mmm,” is all that you manage, as you adjust to the sudden fullness. You haven’t lain with anyone else in so long, it’s hard to remember a cock other than his. Still, you can’t help but feel like he settles in you just right. Especially when you both slot together neatly, you taking him to the hilt.
Astarion drops another kiss on your back. “Comfortable?”
“Mhm,” you mumble. Now that you’re securely held in place by Astarion’s hips flush to yours, your legs hanging off the tub’s edges, you place your second hand back at your aching arousal. You begin to stroke yourself back into the same fervor Astarion had you in moments ago.
After a small, deliberate thrust of his hips, testing how you rise and fall in the water, Astarion starts moving against you. It’s slow at first, the water rippling out from you both in small waves. Then his hips rock back, only to drive back into you with sloshing force. 
“A–ahh!” Sweet hells, he knows exactly how to hit your most sensitive spot. You had already been so heated, but now, with your lover’s full, hardened length pressing into you? You feel dizzy with pleasure.
Years of lovemaking, and you’re still in awe of how well he knows your body. It’s more than his previous experiences culminating in some kind of skillful paramour. No, this was built through time, trial, error, effort.
So as this gorgeous man you call love bounces you up and down in his lap, you feel yourself coming undone. Your breaths come ragged as you ride his cock, water spilling out of the tub with each and every buck. Your fingers clench the tub, barely holding on as you feel your pleasure coil tighter and tighter.
Astarion places kiss after kiss down your back, and you hear him murmuring, "Gods you're perfect." A harder kiss. "You feel so good." Another thrust. "Each." A nip at your skin. "And every." A thrust. "Time." Another kiss. "I–I love you."
For your part, you’re finding entire sentences difficult. With the feel of him throbbing inside you, the way his lips feel along your back, each roll of his hips, you're truly only capable of a few phrases. "Astarion." A splashing bounce. "I love you–" A loll back of your head. "Oh hells–" A dip of your hips. "I love you too."
When your peak finally runs through you like a shockwave, when you clench around him in ecstasy, those very same words are still on your lips. "I l–love you."
He moans at the sudden tightness, the muscles that now hold him deep within you. "Darling," he breathes. "Oh love. I can't–"
Astarion means to say that he can't hold on much longer. He'd already been so close, holding back only to keep your pleasure going. So you reach down to his fingers on your hip, as best as you can while still hanging on for dear life, and squeeze his hand. A wordless affirmation, a plea to join you, as he always has.
And it’s that silent communication that has his fingers lacing through yours, his neck craning back, his hips stuttering.
When he comes, there's no pretense or performance. There hasn't been for many years. So when you look back at his face in a hazy fuzz of emotion, the expression you see is utterly unbridled.
It's a look of sheer pleasure– his perfectly pale skin flushed a light rosy color, his usually impeccable hair stuck to his face in a mixture of sweat and water. His eyes are shut, his mouth agape as he spills into you.
So enraptured are you by the mundane beauty of his climax, that you’ve strained too far from your precariously balanced position. Your foot unhooks from the tub’s slippery edge and you fall onto Astarion’s lap with a large splash as he finishes. You’re both left panting and wet in the wake of both your and the tub’s peaks.
Water drips down your face, all of the soap bottles have been knocked from the edge of the tub. The high you’d felt just moments ago feels doused in the stark reality of making love in a bathtub. 
However, when you feel Astarion’s breathy laughter on your back, feel his softening cock twitch with his last few thrusts, you know he’s still in fine spirits.
You stay together for a few moments as you both collect yourselves. Water is wiped from eyes, your second leg comes back into the tub, and several deep breaths are had. Once you’re relatively sorted, Astarion pulls himself out of you with a long, happy sigh.
The man falls back from you, sitting against the end of the tub in a tired flop. Then he’s patting the water in front of him, motioning you to join him in some post-coital cuddles.
You don’t need much more of an invitation.
Floating through the now much lower water, you stop just in front of him. Movements relaxed, you wrap your legs around his waist, your arms around his neck, and scoot into his waiting embrace.
"So," you start, looking at the wasteland of water and strewn soap bottles around the tub. "Looks like we made a mess."
"I told you we would," he says, closing his arms around you, pulling you against his chest.
"I know," you say, leaning into him comfortably. Your body is truly exhausted now, but your mind is a buzz of joy. "It was worth it though."
He laughs into your shoulder, squeezes you tighter. "Feeling better, I take it?"
"Gods yes," you say, tilting your head into his silver hair. "Thank you."
"Oh my sweet, it was my utmost pleasure," he replies, and you can feel his smile on your skin.
You both lean back, grinning at each other like fools. The smiles stay, even when your lips meet in a soft, wet kiss.
You will need to clean the room, the tub, likely your bodies once again– but all you can truly feel right now is content. Enjoying Astarion’s gentle fingers as they trace a pattern onto your skin, the warm water all around you, you very nearly forget that today was merely a day like any other.
The thousandth time you made love to Astarion, it was messy and wet and silly– somehow, it was sweet, caring, and loving all the same.
The thousandth time you made love to Astarion, you didn't know it was the thousandth time.
Just as you hadn't known your tenth thousand kiss, nor your hundred thousandth 'I love you.' Were anyone to ask you about them, you might not even remember the days or events surrounding any of them.
What you do know is that each individual moment holds no less importance, that the affection shared between you doesn’t diminish with each recurrence.
You’re unable to quantify your love, nor would you want to. All you really want is Astarion– his soft lips, tender hands, and whispered words of love– until your dying breath.
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kidconsky · 5 months
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Okay.... Let's analyze what happened in dcmk these last few weeks. Obvious SPOLIERS will be commented so you know.
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> Appearance of Aoko's mother in Magic Kaito.
Where was she all this time? Why did she never appear or even show a sign of life? She didn't even call her daughter on her birthday... She appears so oblivious to everything, she didn't even know who Kaitou Kid was since her husband has always been obsessed with trying to catch this thief for YEARS. It seems like Gosho just randomly placed her in the story without trying to connect with the canon, it's almost as if she was a character outside of her original manga.
> Film 27 and its breaks in logic and common sense.
After all these years, Gosho decided to go against everything he had already said and made the Kaishin to be cousins, not only ruining a unique relationship (whether you shipped or not) but also bringing plot holes and contradictions in the story. If they are cousins ​​what's the excuse for them never trying to even interact before? Why was it that when Yukiko first met Kaito, she never acted like she was related to her? The same with Toichi, she always talked about him as just her teacher and NOTHING more than that, it doesn't make sense to put that in the story now. Why did Kaito never even have support from his family? Not even showing up at Toichi's symbolic funeral? How come Yusaku never went to talk to his late brother's family, even if he knew the truth KAITO DIDN'T KNOW...
No one even considered his feelings...
> All the bullshit involving Kaishin.
The biggest problem for me about them being cousins ​​is not just because of the ship but because of all the history and construction they had. It's as if everything that's different about them is summed up in the simple fact that they're related. But Kaishin has always had something unique, something that Gosho himself defined as "a mysterious bond". Them not having the slightest type of relationship made everything so unique, a connection that only the two of them could have together, one would easily understand the other even though they were complete strangers. Now I feel like they want to throw that away.
> TOICHI KUROBA AND MY HATE FOR HIM.
Gosho had already said that Toichi was possibly alive but the confirmation brought me a wave of anger and contempt that I had never felt for any other dcmk character (even bo). Let's think about Kaito in this whole story:
• lost his father when he was just a child and is still traumatized by it today.
• for 8 FUCKING YEARS he discovers that his father's death was never an accident but a murder.
• His father was actually an internationally wanted thief who was after a precious stone capable of bringing immortality.
• he steps into his father's shoes as KID and decides to try to find out for himself what happened to his father, who killed him and why.
• now there is a criminal organization that thinks he is the KID who didn't really die and they are trying to kill him once and for all.
• he decides to put himself at risk looking for Pandora, being something belonging to the organization and the police themselves.
• a lot of people hate him, regardless of whether he hurts people or not.
• more and more he becomes more and more removed from everything and becomes burdened with the KID charade.
• his own mother doesn't care about him, on the contrary, it seems like she likes to make things even more difficult for her son (she disguised herself as her dead ex-husband just to screw with her son's head, that's sickening to say the least).
• everything Kaito does is because of his father's murder, he never wanted to be KID, he never liked stealing, he doesn't do any of that for pleasure (except when it involves a certain mini detective but that's not the focus now ).
• and in the end his father was ALIVE all this time, doing who knows what while his son was risking his life because of him... BRO...
This whole thing is insane. And not in a good way.
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tlou-reid · 9 months
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Timeless ❆ Aaron Hotchner
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☃︎ SUMMARY: a timeline of Aaron’s and his soulmates’ love life.
☃︎WARNINGS: random asshole character at the beginning, aaron and jack being cuties, death and mentions of an undisclosed illness, a funeral :(
.。❅⋆⍋∞。∞⍋⋆❅。.
“We would have been timeless, ‘cause I believe that we were supposed to find this. So, even in a different life, you still would've been mine. We would've been timeless.”
Day One
“Aaron!” the barista called into the busy cafe, setting down a carrier of four drinks. His name was quickly sketched across all four, signifying his loss to the team.
Aaron, Penelope, JJ and Luke had made a bet that Aaron would have a home cooked meal for five out of the seven days they were in town. He’d caved on day four, getting home late and craving the acidic burn of pizza sauce and greasiness of mozzarella cheese. He couldn’t help himself, forgetting all about the silly bet he’d made.
He remembered in the morning when he came eye to eye with the Italian man on the pizza place’s logo. Aaron figured it would be easier to just come in with their prize, coffees from Penelope’s favorite local place, and accept defeat than have to confront each of them.
So, he picks up his tray with a sigh and continues his way to his car, hoping to get to the BAU as soon as possible.
However, this would prove difficult. Aaron is shocked to see a big SUV blocking him in, and a lady jumping out of it. “YOU FUCKING ASSHOLE!” She yelled into the open door, slamming it at the end of her sentence. Aaron could see the passenger side window roll down. He heard a man’s voice this time, with a much darker, violent tone, “YOU SHOULD’VE THOUGHT ABOUT IT BEFORE YOU GOT IN THE CAR, BITCH!”
The law enforcement officer in Aaron kicked in when he heard the foul names being thrown towards this lady. She was gearing up to retaliate, but he stepped in front of her. Aaron used his free hand to quickly pull out his badge. It was a bit clumsily, due to the weight of the coffees in his other hand.
Once he was standing protectively in front of the lady and had his badge on full display, Aaron spoke, “I’m going to have to ask you to leave before you cause a further public disturbance.” His voice was low, the same way he talked to suspect. “Oh, fuck you.” The man said one last time, making eye contact with the lady, before pulling off.
“Are you okay?” Aaron turned around to face the lady. “Yeah, the guy’s just an asshole. Fucking offers me a ride and thinks that means he’s getting laid?” You’re rambling at this point, aggravated at the entire situation. “Where are you trying to go?” His entire plan of getting to work quickly went out the window when he saw how beautiful your eyes were.
“I work at the office around the block. I usually drive but someone hit my car yesterday and it’s in the shop today,” Aaron was growing more and more concerned with your wellbeing as you spoke, “I’m just gonna walk. Thanks for taking care of that asshole, I can’t believe I’m gonna have to see him later.”
Aaron knows he should probably walk away, but he can’t stop himself from asking, “See him later?” You nod, “He’s my fucking neighbor. Sorry, I don’t usually cuss this much, he just really pissed me off.” Aaron laughs at this, seeing as the first thing he heard you say was “fucking asshole”.
“You’re sure you don’t need a ride?” He asks one more time. “No, I could probably use the walk to cool off some. Thank you,” Your voice trailed off, not knowing what to call him. He stuck his hand out for you to shake, “Aaron.” He filled in the blank for you.
You told him your name, shook his hand, and bid him goodbye. You made it maybe six steps before you turned back around, “Aaron!” You hollered, walking quickly to catch up to him. “I know this is bold and I don’t even know if you’re single, but you were very kind and I think you’re very good looking. Could I get your number maybe?”
Aaron meets you with a laugh. You’re wary, not knowing that a laugh from Aaron was extremely rare, and something a lot of people would kill to hear. Your nerves are eased when he says, “I’d love to give you my number.”
Day 16
The night was going wonderfully. Aaron was proving that chivalry was, in fact, not dead. Just lost in older men. He was comfortable meeting you at the restaurant, he pulled out your chair for you, ordered a bottle of the fancy wine the restaurant carried, and was currently sliding his credit card into the check holder.
The conversation between you two flowed beautifully all night, making it seem like time flew by. He signed the bottom of the receipt, leaving a very generous cash tip, and turned his attention towards you. “Ready to go?” Aaron asked, not wanting to rush you away. You gave him a shy nod, trying to figure out a way to say you want to see him again soon without sounding obsessed.
Aaron stood and you followed, interlocking your arm with his. You two walked out of the restaurant, only letting each other go when he held the door for you. “Which one’s yours?” He asked, wanting to walk you to your car. You held out the key, clicking the lock button to get it to light up.
Aaron walked you over, opening the driver’s side door for you. “Look at her!” You squealed, excited for him to see your car, “Fresh out of the shop!” Aaron laughed at your excitement. Once you were comfortable in your seat and buckled up, Aaron went to speak again.
“I had fun,” He smiled at you. “I did, too.” You replied. “Would you like to do it again, sometime?” He asked, fumbling over his word a bit. You couldn’t help but find the way you made him nervous adorable.
“I would love to, whenever you’re free.” He’d told you about how hectic his work life could get, which you understood. “I’ll call you.” He promised, getting ready to close the door. “Goodnight, Aaron.” He gave you once last smile, repeated your sentiment, and closed the door for you.
Day 102
“Why’d you pick him?” Aaron’s son, Jack asked. “Jack!” Aaron laughed, loading up spaghetti noodles on his plate.
It’s your first time meeting Jack. You were both scared and excited, not knowing how he would react to Aaron bringing home a new girlfriend. “He protected me the first time I met him, I felt like I owed him.” You joked as Aaron passed you the pasta. You smiled when Jack let out a loud laugh.
Dinner continued like this, with teasing and laughter. You felt incredibly welcomed in the Hotchner household, loving the energy both of the boys created. You fit like a missing puzzle piece, being able to help Jack team up on his dad, and be there when Aaron was feigning sadness at one his jokes. Plus, both of them were happy to have a home cooked meal for the first time in about a week. Jack even said you could come over whenever you wanted, as long as you cooked.
“I think he likes you,” Aaron said as he climbed into bed next to you, later that night. “I think so, too. We laughed a lot.” Aaron nodded, moving over to press a kiss to the side of your head.
“Welcome to the family,” He muttered as he wiggled down into the blankets, falling asleep quickly.
Day 1534
“I do.” You said as you slid the ring onto Aaron’s finger, missing the first time due the tears welling up in your eyes.
Everyone seated for the ceremony cheered as the pastor said, “You may kiss the bride!” Aaron pulled you in by your waist, pressing himself as close as possible to you. The kiss was appropriate, considering there was a crowd watching, but full of love.
After you pulled away, you moved yourself behind Aaron, pulling his best man in for a big hug. Jack smiled against your neck, squeezing you tight. You grabbed one his hands, and one of Aaron, walking back down the aisle with both of them by your side.
“Mr., Mr., and Mrs. Hotchner,” Jessica smiled, introducing you three to the reception. You were ready to dance and celebrate with the people you loved most in the world. And you were so excited to share their last name.
Day 12152
You had always hoped it would be you to pass first. Something easy for Aaron, Jack, and his children to handle. Passing away in your sleep, peacefully and free of pain.
But, wishes are rarely granted. You were sat next to Aaron when he passed. As hard as his battle with illness had been, he fought as best he could. You knew he’d spent his whole life fighting, so you, as sad as you were, you relieved to know he was somewhere safe and relaxing. Somewhere where there was no fight to be had.
He would be surrounded by people he loved, more than he had around him in his old age now.
Jack held you tight at the funeral, knowing you were heartbroken. Part of him was relieved too. His father was no longer in pain. When he knelt at his dad’s casket, he made one last promise to look over you. To take care of you, to love you, and to protect you, just as Aaron had done since the day he met you.
You weren’t too worried about it, though. You knew you’d join him when the time was right, and he would be waiting for you. You two were meant to be, even if you’d met late in life. No matter how long it took, or where you guys were, you and Aaron would find each other.
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seenoversundown · 13 days
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For Death Or Glory : Chapter Eighteen
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Jake Kiszka x Charlotte (Fem OC)
Warnings: Some vague spiritual mentions, VERY LIGHT spooky theme, yearning, pining (can you tell it's a jake chapter?) anxious themes, slightly tense conversation? (not an argument don't worry) fluff fluff fluff fluff, may cause butterflies, a lot of physical touch type of affection, and certainly important: Jake is the definition of 'if he wanted to, he would.'
Word Count: 6k 🤭 (couldn't stop yapping this chapter)
Summary: Jake has a cute little surprise for Charlotte, which is why he insisted on her spending the night.
Author's Note: FOLKS- this one is fucking cute. The words just kept flowing and I think we're at a point in the story where this is going to be a trend. (We're in the home stretch, which makes me want to cry, but also-there's just so much to say in the chapters, that I don't foresee them getting much shorter from here on out!) I can't wait to see how you feel at the end 🤭 ((I'm sorry in advance, don't yell at me))
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Crystal - Stevie Nicks "Like the love that had finally, finally found me, Then I knew, In the crystalline knowledge of you."
⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯
God, it’s early. 
I managed to carefully slide out of bed without her waking up, which was already difficult because I wanted nothing more than just to stay curled up around her. But I need to be awake for a little bit before I surprise her today.
She told me when she was upset that her best friend and she had a tradition of going to Salem for her birthday every year. She wasn’t super into the spiritual side of things, but she loves Halloween, and with her birthday only being a few days before, she’s a bit biased. 
Unfortunately, this year, they never made it, and my heart shattered watching her tell me that the funeral was just a week prior to her birthday. I’ve never wanted just to squeeze someone harder than her at that moment.  When I had gone and talked to Josh, I had asked if he minded covering the bar that night because she was so upset and I didn’t have the heart to just.. let her be alone after that. But I told him that I would stop by the bar before I came home so I could talk to him about today. Thankfully, he was happy to take care of everything for the day, with the help of Danny. 
I sip on coffee as I figure out what I’m going to wear for the day, assuming that she will probably look nicer than my typical outfits. I know it doesn’t really matter what I’m wearing, but I want to make sure she has a good day and that I can manage not to look homeless sometimes. 
Grabbing a few things from my closet quietly, I sneak back out of my room so she can sleep for as long as possible. I drop them on the couch, deciding to really just go for it today. 
I pull my hair back into a bun, stealing a little more of Josh’s shaving cream, it’s not super grown in, but I may as well. Taking the time to make sure my face is clean-shaven before waking her. Remembering the fact she said I looked cute on Facetime after I shaved reluctantly, but if this is what she prefers, then I don’t mind.  ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯
I sit on the bed next to her, just watching her sleep for a minute. She’s curled up with my pillow, which she must have stolen when I left the room. I don’t want to wake her up; she looks so comfortable. 
Softly, I run my hand down the back of her head, and she doesn’t flinch at all. I gently scratched her back, hoping that the contact would help, but still, she didn’t budge. 
I lean down, kissing her temple and then whispering. “Hey you,” into her. Pressing slow, soft kisses into the side of her face. 
“Mmm..” her sleepy little groan made me laugh. 
Peppering a few more kisses against her cheek, mumbling, “Goodmorning.”
It takes her a minute, but she finally opens her eyes slightly and looks up at me. 
I whisper, “There she is.” 
“Why are you up?” She mumbles, reaching her arms out to me. Wrapping her up in a hug, she tucks her little face into me. Maybe we can just stay like this instead. 
“You should get dressed and come with me. I have a few things I need to do,” I tell her, hoping she’ll not fight it. 
“How dressed are we talking?” 
I sit up a little to look at her, “Um.. we’ll be like.. in public.. Does that help?” 
She touches my face, ignoring my answer, “Did you just shave?” 
“Mhm,” I respond, choking back a laugh. “Come on, sleeping beauty, don’t get distracted.” 
”Your face is soft,” she says quietly, as she’s running her hand down my cheek and holding my chin. 
“Just for you,” I giggle before leaning down and kissing her. “I have coffee for you, too.” 
“What are you up to?” She squints at me; there’s no way she’s figured it out already. 
My eyebrows pull together, “What do you mean?” 
“You’re being extra sweet this morning..” her voice trailing off. 
“Am I not allowed to be nice to you?” I laugh. “I can be mean if you’d prefer.”
She laughed with me this time, “I can’t even imagine that.” 
“I don’t think I could be mean to you if I tried.” I would never. ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯
While she’s getting herself together, I pull on the outfit I had picked out earlier. Cuffing the bottom of my pants so they sit nicely with the boots I’m about to grab. Am I hoping that she’ll think I look nice? Maybe. Opening the drawer of my nightstand, the few rings that I have and my watch sit there. I slide on one of the rings and decide to actually wear my watch today. Staring at myself in the mirror, I feel like I look kind of put together? I don’t think I could tell you the last time I tried this hard with an outfit. 
I’m sitting on the couch, just scrolling through emails, when I hear her walking out of the bathroom. I glance up from my phone as she walks over to me. 
Her voice was so low when she finally let out, “Okay, I’m ready.”
I take her in, her sweater tucked into a little plaid skirt, leaving her legs on display even if they’re covered by black tights. Even with a coat over it, she looks so good. I just quietly stand up, still looking at her but unable to form words. 
“Oh,” she squeaks, looking me up and down. “You look cute.” 
“Hah, thank you,” I can’t shake the nerves from my voice when I say it. “You–” I hesitate, not even knowing how to compliment her at the moment. 
“I’m what?” 
“You just look,” I start, glancing down at her again. “Wow.” 
She giggles at me as I struggle to find words, “Stop it!” 
I shake my head as if it’ll help me refocus. I wasn’t prepared for her to be able to look like this on a whim. 
“Alright, you, let’s go.”  ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯
Once we’re in the car, I hand her my phone, letting her pick whatever for music. I had already put an address into my maps, just to at least get me to Salem– assuming that she would have something picked out by the time we got there. We hardly make it to the turnpike before I feel her staring at me. 
“Jacob,” she pauses, “Where are we going?”
“Well,” I glanced over at her for a second. “You said you always went to Salem around your birthday and that you hadn’t gone this year because of everything going on so..” 
“Wait- really?” Her voice was small. 
I reach over, resting my hand on her thigh, “Mhm. I figured it’s not fair for you not to do anything for your birthday, and I’m sure you already know some things you like to do there.” 
She leans over the center console, kissing my cheek a few times before letting a small “thank you” squeak out. 
“Of course,” I can feel my face warm, squeezing her leg a few times.  Her hand holds my forearm gently, and the little bit of contact gives me butterflies. 
“I’m assuming you’ve been to Salem?”
“Not in a long time, so whatever you want to do will basically be new to me.” Her eyes light up, and she quickly grabs her phone. 
She’s quiet for a few minutes, just buried in her phone until she holds it out in front of me, “Loook! We could do this!”  I pull it closer so I can actually see; it’s a video of people getting their aura photos done. 
“We can, if you want,” I tell her. 
She’s precious; the way her face lights up when she’s excited makes me want to just give her everything and anything she wants. 
She spent a lot of the drive there finding little things that we could do and excitedly telling me about them. Even if I had to keep reassuring her that whatever she chose was fine. I don’t think she’s used to people doing things for her.  ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯
Her voice is quiet when she asks, “Can we get coffee?” as if she thinks I’ll say no.
“Mhm,” I hum back. “Just pick where from.” The way she gets shy asking for things makes me laugh to myself. 
“Are you sure?” 
“Mhmm,” I giggle, looking over at her. “Whatever you want, Char.” 
After finding the one she had decided on, I listened to her try and decide which drink she wanted to try; the way she was tied between the two made me laugh.
“Whichever one you get, I’ll get the other one,” I whisper to her. 
Her head whips over, “Oh, you don’t have to do that.” 
“I don’t mind,” 
We finally move up to order; I make her go first so I can order the other drink she didn’t pick. Avoiding looking at her when I could almost feel the wind from how fast she snapped her neck to look at me. I pull out my wallet and quickly pay as her jaw slacks open, staring at me. 
“What?” 
“You just-” 
My eyebrows raise as she hesitates, “Don’t worry about it.”
“Well,” her voice is low, looking at the ground for a second. “Thank you.” 
“Of course,” I tell her, grabbing her hand and pulling her over to a table. “I’ll go grab the drinks; make yourself comfortable.”
I pull out my phone while I wait for our drinks to be made. Clicking on the app for our cameras, which I honestly don’t really look at often. I can just look real quick, so I don’t have to bug them. 
Switching between the few, everything seems normal, but I still feel compelled to check my texts. Nothing. 
Me: hey, if you need anything just let me know okay? 
Me: Also, daniel will be there around like 4pm so you won’t have to close alone
Josh: i know! don’t worry about us just go have fun with your lady! 
‘Jake’ gets called, and it pulls me out of my phone. I grab our drinks and wander back over to the table. Her hands reach out as soon as I get close to her; she’s almost vibrating with excitement over it. 
She sips on her drink, letting out little ‘mmm’s as she does. It’s unfair how adorable she is. Thankful that the drink I chose wasn’t terrible, I finally tried it, realizing that she had her eyes locked on me. 
“Here,” I hand her my drink, her eyes lighting up as she takes it from me. The fact she didn’t hesitate to sip on it gives me butterflies. You would think I’d never kissed her with the way my body reacts to basic things she does. 
Josh: do we have more downeast somewhere or is this it 
Josh: it’s not urgent just whenever you get a second 
Mel: do you want me to go in at all? I can just help out if you don’t want me to make drinks. 
‘Motion Detected’  notifications from Josh opening the bar sit on my lock screen. 
“Hey,” she says, bringing me back to reality. Her hand reaching up and tapping in between my eyebrows lightly, “What’s going on?” 
“Just have a bunch of texts from Josh about the bar,” I tell her, trying not to let my eyebrows pull back together. 
Her eyes look between mine as we sit there, “Everything is going to be fine. Danny won’t let the bar burn down.”
“You’re right. I’m sorry,” I tell her, sliding my phone into my pocket. “Where would you like to go first?”
“Do you want to see some of the witch trial sites?” She asks.  “Or is it too spooky for you?” Followed with a slight giggle as she looked at me. 
“Oh, don’t start with me,” I laugh before deciding to tease her back. “I’ll hold your hand if you get too scared, though.”  ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯
I can tell she really enjoys it here because she can just glance at her maps and then know where to wander off to. She really seems in her element getting to bring me to all these sites. Almost makes me wonder if this is what they would do every year. Telling me about everything that happened in each of the spots. She made sure to point out little details that she really enjoyed. 
My phone has vibrated a few times, and I’m genuinely fighting demons, trying not to look at what it is. Everything is fine. Dan is there. It’s okay. I spend a minute trying to shake the thought and refocus on her as we walk through a little bit of the cemetery. 
“Not too scared yet, are you?” she taunts. 
A slight grin sneaks onto my face, “And what if I was?” 
“Oooohhh, poor baby,” she teases me further, her hand running over my cheek. I know she’s trying to be funny, but hearing her call me ‘baby’ makes my knees weak. The way her lips pouted when she said it also made me wish I could just kiss her freely. 
“I offer to hold your hand, and you just make fun of me?” I let out dramatically. “I see how it is.” Hearing her laugh is worth having to be a bit dramatic. I pout my lip out at her as she giggles at me. 
“I’d take it back,” She starts. “But, you’re cute when you do this.” She taps my bottom lip gently, and I can’t stop the grin that forms when she does. Maybe I am scared. 
“Where else do you want to show me? Or are we just trying to pick up some spirits to bring home with us?” 
She finds a few that she hadn’t been to in a while, leading the way. I would gladly follow her around even if she were lying to me about every single thing. She kept touching my arm when she would tell me things, and it was taking everything in me to stay calm about it. It’s not that deep, Jake. Chill out. I try to tell myself, and then she tells me the history of the next place, and her hand lingers on my bicep for a minute, which makes all the hair on my body stand. 
I can feel my phone vibrating in my pocket as we walk to another spot that she’s excited about. It’s not important. They have everything under control. I try to ignore the feeling and focus on her. But the incessant vibration against my leg is making it difficult. 
Bzzt.
Bzzt.
Bzzt.
For fucks sake, what could be happening? 
I pull out my phone for what feels like the thousandth time, seeing a handful of notifications sitting there. 
Josh: imagine I just get super drunk because it’s slow!! 
Josh: i’m so kidding 
Josh: or am I? the world will never know.
Danny: Please just ignore Josh. He’s cackling like a witch behind the bar so I know he’s being a little shit. 
Josh (in the Caravel Chat) : Hear me out- We just close early today for fun!
Sam: why is josh asking me to come help him lol 
Quinn: Did you leave Josh alone at the bar? 
Danny: Everything is fine I swear.
Sam: actually if you pay me for the night, i’ll do it 
Staring at all the texts that have come in, I can’t fight the way my hand rubs over my face. As I’m trying to decide what to respond to first, I feel her hand grab my arm. 
“Babe,” she says, squeezing me gently. My heart is simultaneously pounding at her casual pet name but also aches at the look on her face. Get off your phone, you dumbass. 
Locking my phone and shoving it into my pocket, I look back at her, “I’m so sorry.”
She gently grabs my chin, forcing me to look at her, “I think it’s wonderful how much you care about your job, but they can handle it.” 
“No, no, you’re right. I’m still sorry, and I promise I’ll stop,” comes out a bit sadder sounding than I expected. She leans up, placing a kiss on my cheek. 
“It’s okay,” she says quietly, “I just want you to have fun too.” 
“I am,” I whisper. “Come on, the aura photos are calling our names.”
⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯
I pull open the door to the little shop that offers the photos, letting her excitedly go in first. She doesn’t go far, just waiting for me to come in with her. There’s someone already talking to the girl working there, so we just wander around looking at the selection of crystals and stones they have. She’s kept herself close to me while I pick up random crystals to look at them closer. Is she nervous? She has such a strong personality when it comes to her job, which I know is part of the gig for her, but it’s interesting to see how she acts when she doesn’t have to be in charge. The fact she has been attached to me from the moment we walked in is throwing me off. 
Hearing the door chimes ring, the girl behind the counter glances over at us. 
“Hi! Did you have any questions?” her voice was bubbly. 
I feel her gently tap my arm, seeing her stare at me from the corner of my eye. I have to fight the laugh when I realize she wants me to ask.
“Actually, yes,” I start. “Is there any chance we can get our aura photos done?” 
“Oh, absolutely!” She says. “Did you want individual ones?” 
“Please,” I tell her. “If you have time, obviously.” 
She laughs boisterously, “Lucky for the two of you– after Halloween, we die off so quickly! I have so much time; I don’t know what to do with myself.” 
She brings us to the area they have set up, explaining the process and how it works before having Charlotte sit down first. She’s so graceful as she gets situated. So, she carefully made sure her hands were in the right place after adjusting her hair a few times. The girl working here was so friendly and was talking her through it to help make sure that she was relaxed, so she got an authentic reading. 
I don’t know what it is about her that is so incredibly captivating, but the entire time, I can’t look away from her. I stand far enough out of the way that she can’t see me, but all I can think is– she is effortlessly beautiful. The feeling I get when I look at her scares me; my heart races, and the way my stomach turns. The witch trial sites could never compare. 
It only takes a few minutes before we’re swapping spots. She, on the other hand, stays within eyeshot for me. Doing everything I can to focus on the employee and not her, I feel myself calm down a bit. The girl leans down to take the photo, and I can see Charlotte in my peripheral. With the soft smile on her face, as she watches, I find myself unable to hold back the full smile as I hear the shutter of the camera.
“If you want, I can give you guys a little explanation of what your colors mean!” The girl offers, and we have the time to kill, so we obviously take her up on the offer. 
  We follow her back up to the counter, where she slides both of our photos over to us. My eyes go to her right away; our colors are not the same at all. 
“Ladies first,” the girl says, nudging Char’s photo forward a bit. “You have quite a bit of red in here, dear. Red typically represents a passionate, intense, loyal person. Depending on the shade of red, it can also have some romantic representations as well.” 
I glance over as Charlotte is just beaming at this girl while she explains. “You also have a little bit of a deeper purple in there, which means you may have something that is bothering you. Some sort of obstacle that you need to overcome.” 
Oh no. My hand finds hers, lightly tapping just to let her know I’m still there. She so softly wraps her hand around my index finger, squeezing a few times, almost like a ‘thank you.’
“And now for you,” the girl taps my photo forward. “You have majority green, which is usually characterized by the person’s nurturing disposition. You embody compassion and understanding. Since yours is also more of a mint green, you must be someone who just radiates peace and serenity to those around you.”
Charlotte’s soft laugh, “Sounds about right.”
“You’re obviously welcome to look up more about the meanings behind the colors! I just figured I would give you a baseline of what they mean,” she tells us.
“No, thank you so much for that, actually,” Charlotte finally chimes in.
The girl chuckles as she runs my card for everything, looking at me as she hands it back, “You know it’s kinda cute; your aura colors complement each other well.” Shooting me a wink as she glances down at the photos. Why is she trying to torture me?
There’s no way my face isn’t a little red at her comment, and then I glance over at her; the subtle pink in her cheeks makes me feel less insane. But is she just embarrassed, or is she into that? 
“Thank you again,” I tell her as we go to leave, pushing the door open for Charlotte to go out first.  ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯
“Where to next?” 
Her excitement is palatable, “Oooo, I have an idea!” 
I watch her as she leads me to another little shop that she likes to look through. My heart feels.. different as I watch her. Seeing her get excited over these things that she looks forward to year after year, the way she just beams back at me like I’m the one who founded this town. She keeps holding my hand, and even when she lets go to show me something, she always finds her way back to it. She walks so close that she bumps into me constantly. Okay so.. I have a crush on her.. But how could I not? 
Her sweet face when she turns to me with something that she’s found. I don’t know what’s worse, the soft sparkle in her eyes or trying to focus on anything beyond how perfectly painted her freckles are over her nose. Her little voice every time, ‘Jacob look!’ she would whisper, made me laugh to myself. 
“Do you want it?” I whisper after she’s shown me just about everything in the store. 
And she’s suddenly shy again. 
“No, no, it’s just cute,” she tries to backpedal. 
I take the dainty chain bracelet from her, “It’s very cute.” Inspecting it closer, knowing I’m going to just hold onto it even if she tries to fight me on it. She can’t just show me a million things and think I’m not going to offer to get one of them, at the very least, for her.
I go to set the bracelet back in its place, “Do you want to keep looking around?”
She nods quickly, grabbing my free hand gently. As soon as she turns her head, I pull the bracelet back to me, keeping it tucked in my hand so she doesn’t see it. 
We spent a few more minutes wandering around with her, continuing the same routine of finding something she liked and turning to show me. 
“We can go,” her soft voice rings as we’re walking towards the front. 
I look over at her, fighting the urge to smile, “Give me like two minutes.” 
Walking up to the counter, I hand the bracelet to the employee, knowing there’s no way she isn’t going to notice. Her hand tightened around mine as they dropped the bracelet into a little paper bag, handing it over to me with my receipt. 
Tugging her behind me as we leave, I turn to her, holding out the bag, “For you.” 
“You’re so–” She starts, but pouting her lip when she’s stumped for words. “Thank you, babe.” 
Please just keep calling me that. If I thought her pet naming me woud be bad, I was severely unprepared. 
“Can you help me?” She sweetly asks, holding up the ends of the bracelet to me. 
I grab them from her, and she holds out her wrist for me. Something about the motion of clasping this little chain on her feels like time has slowed. The look on her face, her skin is so soft, and the dainty bracelet looks so perfect on her. I turn it around to see the little charm that’s on it, just holding her wrist for a second. ‘Crush’ may not be the word anymore.   ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯
We spent a little while wandering in and out of shops throughout the little street. As we walk further, the iconic Witch House comes into view. A giant black house with three distinct peaks in the roof, it’s hard to miss, but she still points it out to me. 
“Ooooh! We used to take cute pictures in front of it every year.” 
“Are you saying that you want a picture?”
“Maybe,” She grabs my hand, tugging me along with her. She pulls her phone from her bag, and I reach my hand out, thinking that she just wants me to take it. “No, come here.” 
She pulled me close to her and reached out to take a picture of us. She wants.. a picture of the two of us? My arm wraps around her waist gently as she tucks herself into me; she beams at the camera; her smile could light up a room at this moment. 
“You better show off those teeth, Jacob,” she says, making me chuckle to myself. Smiling but looking at her, I can see her clicking the shutter button out of the corner of my eye. 
“Um, do you guys want me to take one for you?” a stranger quietly interjects as they’re passing by. 
“Oooh, yes!” she quickly hands them her phone. Okay, we’re doing this now, haha, that’s so fine. 
She comes back to me, leaning into my side and letting her hand rest on my stomach. Oh, uh.  My arm pulls her into me, and my hand sits on her lower back; I can feel her staring at me, so I glance over. Her lips pulled into the cutest smile; I swear she could feel my heart pounding. Her eyes dropped to my mouth and then back up, making me fully smile at her. 
“Perfect,” she whispers as she looks over at the person, but I don’t want to stop looking at her. I force my head to turn away from her. I looked over to the camera and felt her leaning against me slightly. It takes two seconds before they start walking back over with her phone. She clicks on her camera roll, quickly swiping through them and thanking the person for helping. She turns to me as she looks through them again. 
“Stop, this one’s so cute,” she turns it to me. They caught me looking at her.. We look like a couple; my stomach tenses at the thought. I... Watching as she sends me a bunch of them, taking a second to favorite a couple of them so she doesn’t lose them. “Oh wait, this one too!”  The one moment of her looking at me, her hand sitting on my stomach and full teeth smile on display, looking right at her– my heart flutters at the sight of it. I hadn’t considered how we look together.. from someone else’s point of view. I look like I’m in lo—.
She cuts me off, “Do you want to get some food? I don’t know how late you planned on being here, but at least then, we aren’t starving on the drive home.”
“Um, yeah, we probably should,” I stumble over my words for a second. “Was there somewhere you had in mind?” ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯
We wandered around for a bit trying to decide what we wanted. It probably would have gone quicker if we focused and weren’t talking about all the things in the window displays as we passed them. But the way she hardly let go of my hand the entire time, I wasn’t about to stop her from doing whatever it is she wanted. 
We almost walked past the restaurant she decided that she wanted to try, but I think if you looked hard enough, you would have seen the smoke from how fast she hit the brakes when she realized it was next to us. It was a treat for me to see her so.. joyful. 
The server dropping off our drinks and taking our order, we have time to just stare at each other and I listen to her tell me how she’s been looking at this place on instagram for a while. 
I finally ask, “Was this a good surprise at least?” 
“Are you kidding? Of course it was,” she said, leaning forward with a sweet little grin on her lips. 
“I know it’s not the same, but—“ 
She stops me quickly, “If I didn't think she’d hear me, I’d say it might be even better.“ Don’t tell me that. 
“I don’t know about that,” 
“Hey,” she almost scolds me. “It was very sweet of you– no but’s allowed.” 
I giggle at the tone of her voice, knowing she would absolutely yell at me if I kept going. The server dropped off our food quietly as we kept talking about the little things we saw today. She kept asking what I liked most, and I couldn’t be honest because it was just getting to be with her.  She told me about how she and Cass would always try to find new things every year, but they also just enjoyed wandering through the same historical sites because it was just interesting to see. 
“Are you still panicking over the bar?” She asks, scooting her plate away from her. 
It hits me that I’ve been distracted enough that I hadn’t even looked at my phone. 
“Actually.. I hadn’t thought about it,” I tell her. 
She fakes a gasp at me, “Well, look at that.”
“Growing up so fast,” I giggle.  Or it could be the fact I spent the whole day getting to watch a beautiful girl smile at me for bringing her here. 
“Proud of you,” she whispers with her foot grazing my leg. 
She’s absolutely killing me. 
Our server came over with our bill, and I had just held my hand out for the little black folder. I slid my card in without hesitation and handed it back to them. I quietly let out a small ‘Thank you’ as they took the small folder away from me. I look back over to her, and the pink tint to her cheeks is more noticeable than I’m sure she’d like. What is she blushing over? 
“You okay?” 
“Mhm,” she hums back.
“You sure?” 
“Yes,” she laughs. “..just you.” 
The server comes back with the folder, taking my card out. I can feel her stare as she watches me sign the receipt and slide cash into the folder for their tip. I look up at her and softly ask, “You ready?” Letting her lead the way out, my hand found its place on her lower back, trying to keep her close to me. 
⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯
“It’s so cute here when it’s dark out,” she says as she’s looking at all the shops lit up now that the sun is set. 
I just watch her take everything in, the pure joy on her face, and my heart feels like it’s melting for the hundredth time today. She slides her hand into mine, leaning into my arm and wrapping her free hand over my bicep as we walk. What is she doing? 
“Thank you for everything today,” She squeaks out. 
I look over, placing a kiss on the side of her head, “You’re very welcome.” 
She stops walking, tugging my arm lightly. I turn around to face her when she closes the gap between us. Tilting her head back slightly as she leans into my chest, leaving a few sweet kisses against my lips. 
“I’ve been waiting for that all day,” she mumbles into me. She’s been waiting? I COULD HAVE DONE THAT SOONER?
“I’m sorry, hun,” I mumble back. “I’ll just have to make up for it now.” Earning the biggest smile out of her, making me laugh at how eager she just got. 
“In that case,” she laughs, wiggling herself out of my arms but grabbing my hand instead. “Let’s go, baby!” 
After a lovely little walk filled with giggles and a few more pit stops that she insisted on just to give me a kiss, we finally made it to the car. I can see her trying to readjust to be more comfortable, moving her legs around every which way. 
I look over at her, letting out a small ‘hey’ before patting my leg. I reach over, carefully grabbing her ankles and pulling her legs out over my lap. We sit in the comfortable quiet for a bit, whatever song she’s chosen playing softly while she just looks through her phone. My hand hasn’t left her since I moved her legs. Rubbing little circles on her ankle or just sliding up the side of her foot. Anything to keep some sort of contact, and she doesn’t seem to mind. 
She reaches over, lightly running her fingertips over my cheek. It’s hard not to smile at it; she’s so fucking cute. 
“Your face is still so soft,” she giggles. 
“I wanted to look nice,” I admit. 
She rebuttals quickly, “You always look nice.” 
“Mmm,” I start. “But standing next to you all day, I wanted to make sure I at least looked half as good as you.”  ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯
The drive home felt short in comparison, but the lack of anxiety I felt this time probably helped. We immediately head up to the apartment, surprisingly avoiding the bar.
“Sooo..” I start, keeping my voice low as I sneak up behind her, sliding my arms around her waist. “The bar doesn’t close for a couple more hours..” 
She twists around in my arms to face me, “Jacob, you’re not about to go to work right now.”
“That wasn’t my thought, but thank you for that,” I let out in the most monotone voice. 
“Oh! Are you turning a new leaf already? One day of me pestering you to stop working is all it took?” She teases me with a little smirk plastered on her face. 
“You really don’t have to make fun of me,” I say, letting my hands settle on her hips. “But, yes— maybe it helped.“
Her hands held the sides of my face, “It is nice to just enjoy you outside of the bar.” 
I mumble back, “Is that so?” 
“Mhm,” Her body leans into me. “I don’t have to share you with anyone else this way.” You’re not sharing me in there either, trust me. 
“Are you trying to say you want more attention?”  I question her. 
“From you? Absolutely,” her voice is so sexy; my body feels like it’s on fire. I want quite literally nothing more than to do that.
Pulling her into me, I whisper, “What kind of attention do you want, hun?” 
“Mmmm…” She hums, before her head tilts slightly and with a delicious little smile on her lips. And then she whispers, “You’re full of surprises today; why don’t you decide, babe?” 
⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Nineteen
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icallhimjoey · 1 year
Text
short bit of writing to help me process a deeply personal current situation - slight chance more of these will pop up in the upcoming few days as i move through all of what needs moving through Wordcount: 1.2K
---
Suddenly Gone
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“Hey, it’s me, let me in,”
It sets you off immediately, face scrunching up and everything tensing from your stomach up until it builds too much and sobs slip out. You hold the buzzer down and see in the intercom how Joe needs to turn to push the door open with his shoulder. He’s carrying bags of shopping and, fucking hell, you’d just stopped crying and calmed down enough to maybe go for a big food shop yourself.
It’s been tears and tears and tears. In stupid places. Normal places too.
Just, all over, really.
It's waking up and crying over breakfast because you forgot for the first twenty minutes of the day. It’s yoghurt slowly going salty because you suddenly remembered.
It’s wet cheeks after seeing initials hidden on a number plate when parking outside a supermarket.
It’s kindly unaccepted apologies as you try to croak through a bunch of them for not being able to answer the phone with an unhitched voice.
It's dark clouds but somehow also sunbeams that break through sporadically, because isn’t it all so stupid? Seeing something that you know they would find hilarious, and instead of it making you laugh, it does the exact opposite?
It's stupid.
It’s also people offering and offering and offering.
“Let me know if I can do anything!”
“If there’s anything I can do...”
“Call me whenever, all’s fine, just let me know,”
But you don’t even know what needs doing. What you want. What you need. You know, besides distraction. And your fridge filled. But, that’s weird to ask. It’s polite for people to say nice things but what do you actually ask for? What do you say without burdening someone? Do you just text? With words?
“Hey,”
Bags get put down and you quickly find yourself stood in an embrace, arms wrapped with tenderness and strength, pulling you into a safe haven of solace. Encircled in his arms and surrounded in his warmth, a cocoon of security is created. You’re protected. Understood. Shielded from all the absolute shit that’s found you over the past couple of days.
“How was today?” Joe speaks into your hair.
“Long,”
Leaning into the hug more, Joe allows you a brief respite from the heavy weight of grief. It’s difficult to feel vulnerable for such a long time, for so many consecutive hours. Really drains you.
“Did you get everything sorted?”
“Nearly,”
You feel emotions surge once more, but Joe remains steadfast in his hold. Stable anchor in the storm, keeping the whole ship from drifting, from tipping, from sinking.
You stand there for a long time, and when you start to think of the bags on the floor that hold items that might need a fridge or a freezer, you also notice that the tightness in your chest has eased. Breaths have become deeper.
Joe notices the shift, and pulls back, but only to use both hands to cup your face and connect with you beyond arms embracing and bodies being pushed together.
“Funeral’s Monday,”
And fuck off, just saying wild crazy insane outrageous shit like that gets you. Makes you tense your mouth to keep the whole thing from wobbling, but corners get pulled down as far as they can go anyway. Makes you frown hard to somehow try to keep tears from spilling, which obviously, they do anyway.
Joe uses his thumbs to swipe. Kisses just below your eyes. Presses your head into the crease of his neck below his chin to hide you there, away form the world. Lets you burrow there.
The hug lasts a long time, and you try to convince yourself that it’s not too long. That Joe probably is glad that he gets to help by just holding you a couple of minutes. People keep saying they want to help, and that you just need to let them know.
It’s nice that Joe didn’t wait for you to ask for anything.
He’s just there.
Here.
“I brought food,” he says after a little while, and you’re reminded of the bags once more.
“I’m not hungry,”
It’s not a lie, but you know Joe won’t have it as an answer.
“That’s all right, you can just eat without feeling hungry,”
Kisses get pressed to your forehead, and after one last tight squeeze, bags get taken into the kitchen. You want to help, keep hands busy. Focus on a task. For a moment you’re scared Joe’s going to tell you to let him do it, to go sit down, but Joe knows. Distraction is a welcome temporary escape from overwhelming thoughts and emotions.
But it’s all tricky, isn’t it? It's all fickle things.
You don’t notice how deep you’re lost in thought until you get pulled from them by Joe taking the jar of spaghetti sauce from your grip. You’d been staring at it after pulling it from one of the bags.
“Oh, sorry,”
You watch Joe place it where it goes. You’re not even sure if it’s the brand that she liked, but she fucking loved spaghetti.
“Actually,” you stop Joe from closing the cabinet. “Can we do a bolognese tonight?”
Joe smiles, pulls the jar back from where he put it and leaves it out on the counter.
“Of course.”
Before you know it, there’s hot tears stinging the raw skin once again. And it’s so frustrating. Had you been alone, you would’ve called yourself a stupid bitch out loud because who the fuck cries over the prospect of dinner?!
But you’re not alone. Because Joe’s there, even though you hadn’t asked, hadn’t let him know like everyone asked you to in all their kind messages.
And so tears are just... they're just part of you now.
And you manage to not hate yourself for it.
S'okay.
And Joe doesn’t even really mention it which is exactly right.
“And can we do it with chicken instead of beef?”
“Absolutely,”
It’s how she liked it. Something about the texture of ground beef she hated.
“I know it’s weird,” you start, but before you can finish your sentence, Joe places a packet of diced chicken breast onto the counter.
It’s a gesture that shouldn’t get to you as much as it does, and yet...
“You ok?” Joe asks when Joe giving you want you want, the thing you asked for, has the opposite effect it would usually have – more tears instead of less.
“No,” you shake your head, big wet eyes looking into concerned ones.
“But I will be,”
You’re not sure if it’s happy tears, or maybe if you’re just tired and drained, but you know you’re right. Not all right. Not yet. But you will be. Joe’s there, with hugs and kisses and, you will be.
“S’just a lot,” you shrug, and Joe frowns at you, says, “Of course it is,” like he’s almost upset that you even have to say it. Like he doesn’t understand.
He does.
“But I’ll be fine,”
And he knows you’re right. Doesn't question it. Doesn't say shit anyone else would tell you, that you don't have to be, that you are allowed not to be. Accepts it for the truth, and says,
“But you'll be fine.”
And hearing it from him sets it in stone. Makes you smile, even if only for a second. You will be fine.
the end
---
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writersblog20 · 1 year
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Let’s start the Narcos off at episode one
Pedro Pascal x female reader
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Summary: In moments of crisis, Pedro always finds his way to cheer you up. Sharing the same love for SZA, obviously helping with that….
Warnings: FIRST half of the story:  Grief, loss of a family member, mention to a toxic family, mention of trauma, crying, FLUFF, Next half of the story: Pedro being an angel/sunshine as always, quick mention of smoking weed, maybe hints to romantic feelings, petnames, 
Words: 4K
A/N: I do not consent to copying, translating and/or reposting my story on
Let’s start the Narcos off at episode one
It was a tough day today. It was the funeral of your uncle and your ‘family’ had kicked you out, right before you got to say your goodbyes to your uncle. You were indecisive of what to do now. Go with your mom to the church or not. So like I said, a difficult day and all you wanted was your Pedge. Aka Pedro Pascal. You’ve became very close after filming together and when things got rough, he was always there for you with open arms.
After a conversation with your mom, you made the unbearable decision to stay home. You just couldn’t do it after what they’ve done to you. you had to protect your inner child and this was one of the most difficult decisions to make and there was no good in whatever you decided to choose. So you choose the thing that would protect you even though you couldn’t say your goodbyes.
Your mom left and you were a sobbing mess. Unable to stop crying, knowing that it was going on right now and you felt so extremely alone, it was out of this world. So the only thing you could do was cry right now. Not only did you lose your uncle, you’ve lost your, what you thought was, family the same day. And here you were right now. all alone in your own misery and grief. And boy, the grief was huge, not even being able to get closure as they took that from you as well. ‘
You heard your doorbell and your alarm bells went off and you felt a pit in your stomach at the possibility of more pain if it was one of your family member (If they were already done in the church). With heavy feet, you walked to the door, trying to wipe away the tears but to no avail. You opened your door and much to your surprise, Pedro was standing on your doorstep with some bags and a sympathetic look on his face. As if his heart broke into a million pieces by seeing you like this.
“you didn’t really think I was going to leave you alone in such a time like this, did you?” he gave you a soft and loving smile. You felt your eyes water and quickly put your arms around him. “Oh baby girl, I’m so sorry.” He told you while holding the back of your head for comfort. You just sobbed into his chest, feeling relieved that somebody cared and came to you. Pedro carefully stepped forward so he could close the door for more privacy. He placed his arm around your shoulder and stepped inside your house. He placed his bags on the ground and sat on your couch with you so you could just throw it all out.
His arm went underneath your legs and he pulled them over his lap so you could be more comfortable as he cuddled you. You finally felt safe and secured from the evil world outside because of how Pedro held you and gave you the time to let it all out since you were a sobbing mess right now. The pain started to feel unbearable. Pedro’s heart broke the moment he saw you breakdown. He couldn’t help it but cry for you as well. The pain so huge that he could feel it from you. Pedro wiped his tears away and pulled you in even tighter in a strong hug. As if he tried to glue all the broken pieces  together. “I’m so sorry baby girl. I’m so so sorry this happened to you. You never deserved any of this in contrary, you deserve the whole entire world.” Pedro wiped away his tears before you could see it but you saw how his eyes started to water and how his voice softly broke. You both held each other until you finally calmed down. You felt mentally so exhausted and had for obvious reasons, a major headache. The door went open and your mom stepped inside your house. She knew how close you and Pedro were and you saw her let out a sigh from relief that you weren’t alone and Pedro was taking care of you.
Pedro moved your legs for a moment so he could stand up and gave your mom a hand. “My deepest condolences.” He told her sincerely and she gave him a soft smile, it was obvious it wasn’t a real one but she wanted to be polite. She walked over to you and gave you a hug.
You all had a cup of coffee and heard about the drama in church. How a part of the family had your back and the other, despised you. It was hard to even hear it. You never did anything wrong. Always the good girl because you wanted to be loved so bad, wanted a family so bad that you would take anything. Even if that meant that you were treated so shitty. But this crossed your line and you were done with it all. You finally saw them for who they were and never in your live do you want to be associated with people so toxic like them. Maybe it was a good thing after all.
While your mom explained some things that happened, Pedro kept a close eye on you. You were an open book for him so he could tell that this hurt you in a lot of ways. When your mom left, she looked at Pedro. “You’ll make sure she’s alright, right?” Pedro nodded profoundly. “Yes, of course I will ma’am! If I don’t trust it, I’ll make sure to call you.” he told her. She chuckled “Just call me Y/M/N. And thank you. For everything!”
Pedro smiled “No problem! It’s my pleasure, really.” And with that your mom left. Pedro walked over to you and pulled you into a hug after the hard information you just heard. You were cleaning up the kitchen just so you could do something while the tears started to slip again but silently this time. Pedro kissed the top of your head and pulled you out of the hug. His hands on your waist, hinting for you to jump on the kitchen counter. “I need you to listen carefully to me, okay baby girl?” he made eye contact with you and gently wiped your tears away with his thumb.
“I need you to know how strong you are. Because baby, you don’t search for the light in a dark tunnel. YOU are that light. And we need people like you, who carry the light for people who are in the dark. You sweetheart, help people just by being the real you. You are a sunshine, even after everything that happened, you still shine. You can lift a city with the pain that you have to carry right now and it’s nearly impossible. Yet, you still carry it and take care of yourself. Do you know how strong you are for doing that? Not a lot of people can pull off, what you are pulling off right now. We need you. I need you, the world needs you, who knows how to find light in the most darkest and longest tunnel. You are that person baby girl. You hold up that light for others who can’t seem to find the light! I know you did it for me in my darker days. You showed me the light and you did that for so many other people, even though you have to carry the pain of the world on your shoulders right now. That’s impressive, hell, that’s strength from out of this world and I am so, so incredibly proud of you. Of the person who you are and the things that you do. You keep surprising me with your strength and I need you to know… People see the strength you have. They are scared of you because you are so much stronger and see through bullshit with ease, and trust me, those people, have a LOT of bullshit. They’re scared of you and your strength but don’t you dare to dim that light of yours because of them.”
You teared up at his words. You finally felt seen, heard and acknowledged for who you really are. You put your arms around his shoulders and hugged him. “Thank you Pedge! You have no idea how much that means to me.” you started to feel more empowered. Like you cut the cords with all the negative and let that flow out of your life. “I truly mean that, baby girl.” You smiled, and for the first time in weeks, a genuine smile. “I know. Thank you Pedge.” You let go of Pedro and he kissed your cheek, making you feel flustered and shy. He could see that you felt a bit lighter than before and it made him even more proud of you. He knew it was going to take a while with ups and downs but the fact that you even had a up now, was something he didn’t see coming. It was like you shrugged it off now and continued like you always did.
You jumped off the counter and Pedro just looked mesmerized at you while you cleaned up a bit more. “I have so much admiration for you, you have no idea. I wish I had just a bit of the strength you carry.” He told you honestly. You smiled softly “Pedge, you have no idea how strong you are, yourself. Don’t forget that I learned a lot from you, including being a sunshine. My life got better the moment you stepped in. so thank you for that and I really need you to don’t forget how strong you are yourself okay?” Pedro smiled and blushed a little, unable to make eye contact right now from feeling praised.
He finally looked up at you, eyes watery, clearly a bit emotional what you told him. “Stop, you’re making me emotional.” He chuckled through his tears. This time you walked up to him and pulled him in a hug. “We’ll get through this together.” He told you. “And we’ll get through, whatever life throws at us. We always do.” You told him and you saw him wipe away some tears of his own. “C’me here.” He told you and cupped your cheeks. “I love you!” he told you and pulled closer so he could kiss your forehead, lingering his lips there for a bit. “I love you too, Pegde.” You told him as you softly held onto his wrist that cupped your cheek.
“I actually got a surprise for you but I don’t know if you’re up for it, but I thought it might be nice to go together.” He told you and gave you an envelope. You looked quizzingly at him. “Still for your birthday and something to cheer you up hopefully.” He told you a bit nervous as he scratched his head. You smiled and opened the envelope, only to see two VIP tickets for SZA. You looked in shock at Pedro. “Is this serious?” you held your breath unknowingly in.
Pedro couldn’t really read you right now and his nerves got even bigger. “Yeah…. Do you like it?”  he asked you carefully, afraid of the answer you gave him. “Like it? I love it!!!!” you exclaimed and hugged him tightly.  “Let’s get dressed! What are you waiting for? Let’s go!” you told him excitingly and ran upstairs. Pedro chuckled and was proud to make you happy in such a disaster of a week. Pedro quickly followed you with his bags.
You and Pedro shared the love for SZA. You always loved to listen to her and definitely when you smoked some weed. But now you got to hear the music live with your favorite person in the whole entire world. “Can you help me pick out my outfit?” you questioned when you poked your head around the door. Pedro chuckled and smiled at your enthusiasm. “Of course! I’d love to!”
You and Pedro stood next to each other in front of your wardrobe. “You know what, I might have something for you that you could wear tonight.” He told you “Stay here and close your eyes sweetheart.” You felt excitement flow through your body as you closed your eyes.
Pedro came back “Okay, open your eyes.” you blinked a couple of times to get your vision back and saw that he was holding a gorgeous dress in front of him, for you. “I went to your favorite store to get the dress you’ve been eyeing for a while and thought that this was the perfect time for the perfect occasion.” You smiled as bright as the sun, infecting Pedro with your happiness. “And I got you some DR. Martens to go with the dress.” He told you as he nodded next to him, towards the new shoes. You smiled happily and hugged him again. “I can’t believe you did this all for me. I can’t thank you enough!” Pedro smiled “It’s okay! Like I said, you deserve the world and some cheering up now.” you chuckled “Well, it definitely worked, thank you Pegde.” He smiled and gave you some room to change and so he could get changed as well.
You got into the dress and the shoes. You knew you were going to get blisters from the shoes but it was worth it. You did your make-up and looked in the mirror. For the first time, in a long time, you felt confident and happy in your own body. You felt sexy in the dress and just round and about happy with how you looked right now. You couldn’t wipe the smile off of your face when you excited your room to show Pedro your outfit.
He was already waiting patiently downstairs as he scrolled through his phone. He looked up the moment he saw you and his mouth hang open. “You look absolutely incredible.” He told you with lights in his eyes as he got up and walked towards you, his hands on your arms and gave you a delicate kiss on your cheeks, as not to ruin any make-up. “My god, you look gorgeous.” He told you again as he scanned you up and down, making you feel flustered. “Well, you look quite handsome yourself!” you told him making him giggle and blush as he readjusted his glasses onto his nose. You smiled at how cute he was right now.
Pedro’s phone went off that the taxi driver arrived at your place. He showed you his phone. “Just on time. You ready gorgeous?” he asked you, making you smile. “More than ever! Let’s go!” Pedro smiled and followed you to the cab and opened the door so you could get in. You softly thanked him and got in. Pedro sat closely next to you. Pedro looked at you and the smile you couldn’t contain.
When you finally arrived, you got out and Pedro held your hand as you got led into a different door. The tickets got scanned and 2 guys from the security escorted you to the area. You heard people scream Pedro’s name and you looked at him with a smile on your face while he had a big smile on his face. He squeezed your hand a bit tighter, probably from nerves. You squeezed softly back that you were there. He looked at you when you squeezed his hand and smiled softly at you which you duplicated.
You finally arrived at the area. You and Pedro cheered with your drinks and took some pictures before the concert started. “Thank you Pedge, really for everything and always cheering me up. Thank you.” Pedro smiled shyly “You welcome sweetheart. You know that right?” he was flustered at your words and it was the cutest thing ever. He took your hand in his and kissed the back of your hand gently with a soft smile before the lights started to dim and people started screaming.
You could still see Pedro from the stage lights, illuminating his face. His smile ever so bright, intoxicating you as you smiled brightly as well and started cheering along. You sang all the songs along and when Drew Barrymore started you looked excitingly at Pedro and got your phone out. You got it into selfie mode and started filming. Pedro singing along in the camera with the lyrics :”Somebody get the tacos. Somebody spark a blunt. Let’s start the Narcos off at episode one” You both screamed out and laughed after. You ended the video in a fit of laughter with Pedro.
You finished singing the song along and both cheered loudly when the song ended. You had a blast throughout the evening. Both singing your voices away and dancing together. It was one of the best nights in a very long time. You both pouted when it ended but still very much awake and happy, chatting about the concert. 2 security guys came back to escort you out and you both held hands again, walking towards the exit until Pedro let go of your hand. “Wait, I have to go to the bathroom real quick but I’ll be back in a sec!” he told you and the guys, already walking off. You frowned a bit but decided not to question it and wait.
Pedro came back but held something behind his back. You tried to look but Pedro didn’t let you as he swung his arm around your shoulder and led you towards the exit. The taxi driver was already waiting and he opened the door for you again. You smiled and again, softly thanked him as you got into the car, Pedro next to you. You started to get more tired so you slouched a bit into Pedro’s side and let your head rest on his shoulder. You felt that Pedro leaned his head against yours too. You smiled softly to yourself and closed your eyes for a second, just focusing on his touch.
“Baby girl, wake up” you heard Pedro softly say as if not to scare you. You didn’t realize that you fell asleep. “Oh shit, sorry.” Pedro smiled “It’s okay, don’t worry sweetheart. Let’s go inside.” He helped you out of the car since you were still groggy from sleep. He got the keys from your hands and opened the door for you. You stepped inside of your house and put on the kettle for tea. “I’m going to get into comfortable clothes.” You told Pedro. “Wait, I got you something.” He told you with a soft smile as he got something from behind his back. A smile started to creep up on your face as you saw that he held a hoodie. You got it from his hands and saw that it was a hoodie from SZA. You looked back up at him with the brightest smile. “Got it when I said that I needed to go to the toilet.” He smiled, making you chuckle. “Thank you! I really can’t thank you enough for everything.” Pedro laughed as he held you into a hug. “Baby, stop thanking me. I want to do it.” you smiled and shrugged. “And I will always keep thanking you for it.” Pedro chuckled. “Love you too princess.” He told you and let go of the hug, seeing the big smile on your face. “Love you too Pedge.”
You got upstairs and took the dress off, stepping inside of joggings and put the hoodie on. He got it one size bigger, knowing you liked oversized hoodies. You smiled at the small detail that he remembered. You walked out and took your make-up off, putting your skincare on. When you were done, you walked downstairs and saw Pedro already chilling on the couch with comfortable clothes. He smiled when he saw you wearing the hoodie. “I really like it” you told him with a smile while you made tea. Pedro smiled. “I’m glad.” He told you with a smile.
You got a cup of tea for Pedro and yourself and plopped on the couch next to him. You had posted the video of you and Pedro online and some websites used it. He showed you an article which he found funny. You let your body rest against his side. Your head resting on his chest while he held the phone. You chuckled “Yeah you’re right, that is indeed funny.” Pedro put his phone aside and went with his fingertips over your sculp. He started massaging your head softly, putting pressure on the sore spots as he worked his way down to your neck. “How’d you know?” you asked him while you leaned more against his touch. “You started moving your neck and shoulders more.” he told you, concentrating on removing the headache. “Sit between my legs sweetheart.” Pedro helped you get up because you could get dizzy from the massage and helped you sit down again. Your back resting against his chest, completely molding into his body.
“You okay sweetheart?” he asked you and you softly nodded “Yeah, because of you.” Pedro smiled out of your sight from your words. You were very tense, not very surprising since all the events earlier but still. Way too tense for his liking but it needed time for you to relax. “I need to do this more often. You’re way too tense. It’s going to take a while to ease the muscles.” You nodded and let out a soft: “Okay”.
He softly rubbed your shoulders and neck where he just massaged you so it would get less sore and stay warm. He got your hoodie more up so your neck was covered and would, indeed stay warm.  He kissed your covered shoulder and you handed him his tea, while sipping yours. You let your back rest against his chest again. Pedro softly rubbed your arm with his hand as you both sat in comfort.
After tea and watching some things back from the concert, you decided to go to bed. You let out a yawn and Pedro smiled lovingly. You both got freshened up and before
Pedro could walk into the other room, you stopped him. “Can you maybe stay with me tonight? I don’t want to be alone yet.” Pedro didn’t say anything, he just smiled and walked behind you to your room. You both crawled into bed and got comfortable. You cuddled together and you felt so calm and relaxed. It almost felt like you just got out of a spa day. You cuddled more into Pedro’s’ side with a smile. “You comfy baby girl?” he whispered. He could feel you smile on his chest. “Yeah, very much. You?” “Me too. Goodnight princess.” You could feel his arms tighten a bit around you. “Goodnight Pedge.” Your eyes, already closed and sleep wasn’t far behind. After that massage Pedro gave you, you felt even more lighter than before and with that, more fuzzy and sleepy and you knew this was going to be the best night of sleep that you had in weeks.
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No. 1 Party Anthem - Mikey Berzatto x F!Reader - Chapter Five
Past!Mikey Berzatto x F!Reader
Carmy Berzatto x F!Platonic!Reader
Richie Jerimovich x F!Platonic!Reader
Summary: The past seems to repeat itself and this awful memory seems to provide some much needed context to your actions.
Warnings:  All my fics are 18+ regardless of the content. Heavy spoilers. Mentions of death, funerals, toxic relationships, grief, angst, strained relationships, minor injuries, arguments/yelling matches, details of anxiety/panic attacks, bad coping mechanisms, mental health issues, running away, addiction, interventions. This is literally just pure angst again im so sorry (not really (: ).
Word Count: 5k (sorry, she is a long one!)
A/N: I wrote this while procrastinating packing to move into my dorm LOLLL i move in a few days but im too anxious to even start packing <3 anyways this one is another heavy one and a long one too, so fun ! I hope you all enjoy because she was surprisngly difficult to write and edit bc my imposter syndrome and chronic perfectionism is out to get me ! ! Have a slay n gay day ily all ! 
Taglist: @marysucks-blog @shinebright2000 @jadeittic
MASTERLIST
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It was a cold and cloudy day in March, fitting for a funeral. There was snow on each corner of the sidewalk, partially melted, but the cold air that made your lips burn when you stepped outside threatened more snowfall to come.
Today marked two weeks since you got the phone call that changed your entire life.
It was only two weeks after Mikey was found dead on the State Street Bridge and they already got him ready to be put into the ground. 
You stared out the window, silent, and watched the life that occurred outside. A man helped his son get out of their car, both in matching hats and scarves, a teen with a backpack passed by with their friends, laughing and jumping, a tree swayed, leaves still gone. 
“Hey, sweetheart, are you ready?”
You didn’t respond.
Your father placed his hand onto your shoulder, “Are you ready?”  
You sighed, letting your breath fog up the cold window pane in front of you. 
Most days, you sat on the only wooden dining chair that was saved from your and Mikey's apartment and looked outside the window. You noticed things you normally took for granted, like the view of snowfall during sunset and the way the trees swayed when a gust of wind blew. 
Finally, you stood up, feeling your dad's hand slip off your shoulder. You didn't bother to smooth out your black dress, letting the wrinkles set in the fabric. Meanwhile, the stockings you wore under pinched you as you moved, but you didn’t care enough to adjust them either. 
"Yea…” you responded at last, voice thick and scratchy.
Your parents mumbled quietly to each other as they locked the door, stealing not so subtle glances over to you as you stood in the middle of the path down the front door, looking at the now empty street. 
Everyone around you just seemed to keep on asking you the same question: "Are you ready to…" but you didn't know. You didn't know if you were ready to face death. But you did know that you felt no panic, sadness, guilt, fear, anger, happiness, or… anything really. 
‘I guess it’s better to feel nothing than something,’ you thought to yourself.
“Let’s get in the car now, okay?” 
You looked over to your mom, who approached you and gently grabbed your forearm, starting to lead you to your parents’ car. But you dug your heels into the ground making your mom jump as she suddenly jerked back. 
“I want… I want to drive myself.”
Your mother looked at you, eyes pleading. She then glanced at your dad, who softened and sighed. 
“Sweetie, i don’t think that is a good idea-”
“Please… i just… I need some time alone before I go in…”
Your parents shared a glance before your mom slowly loosened her grip on your arm. You slowly began to walk away from her, pulling your arm out of her grip. 
“We’ll follow you,” your dad said, voice steady but still anxious. 
You nodded and headed towards your car. The thought of being alone terrified you in general since the news of Mikey broke, but having a small moment alone in the car sounded heavenly after not being left physically alone, at all, for the past two weeks. You didn’t sleep alone, eat alone, or even shower alone; someone was always there either right next to you or right outside the door. While it was nice to have people around you during this time, you started feeling suffocated and pitied rather than supported. 
The drive was silent. You didn’t bother to turn on the radio or take off your thick coat or even play any of the cds Mikey had burned for you as teenagers like you normally did. Nothing was normal anymore anyways, so why bother?
But regardless, the silence was, in some way, comforting. It granted you the smallest bit of breathing space you knew you needed before you would face death itself.
After parking outside the funeral home, you sat in your seat. The car was off and it was silent as you sat there, not feeling particularly anything, just sort of numb. And for the first time in a while, you felt like you would be okay. It didn’t hurt anymore, just felt numb, and that seemed like progress to you. 
A knock outside your window made you jump and turn around. You expected to see your mom or your dad waiting for you, but was surprised to see Richie instead.
You cleared your throat and rolled your shoulder back, holding your head up high like you normally did, before you got out.
As you started to step out, you smiled at him, “Well don’t you look fine as a peach.”
Richie smiled softly for a brief second before it fell back down into a frown that made the wrinkles around his mouth deepen. He looked unwell, with heavy bags and a gaunt face, making him appear sick. 
While you analyzed him, he did the same for you. He scanned your face and body, seeing the way you continued to be the person he knew you as, even during a time in which nothing made sense anymore for anyone. Your shoulders were square and your head was high, making you look less like a grieving girlfriend and more like a CEO. This made him shiver. 
But regardless, he held his hand out for you to take, helping you up and out of your car. As you locked your car, he began to talk.
“Drove here alone?” he said, voice gravelly. 
“Yea… I needed to be alone.”
He nodded silently. He then took your hand, still in his own, and wrapped it around his arm. He led you to the sidewalk, toward the funeral home, steps slow and purposeful. 
“Everyone is here but you… you don’t have to talk to anyone, okay? If anyone bothers you, come to me.”
You chuckled dryly, “Thanks, but don't worry about me. I know this is hard for you too.”
Before he could retaliate to your words, you cleared your throat and walked a little faster. 
You watched as your parents, who were up ahead of you, greeted Natalie and Pete. You saw the way they moved inside after speaking to her, as if stuck in mud, around the sister of the man you loved. 
They both briefly turned back to look at you, eyes watering and drooping, before anxiously disappearing into the awaiting crowd of family members.
You paused, making Richie also pause beside you, turning to look at you. He saw the way your eyes scanned up the bricks of the building and then back down to the wilted ferns in pots next to the front doors. Your eyes, for a brief second, filled with tears, making him open his mouth before shutting it upon seeing you blink them away. 
You cleared your throat and began to move again, seemingly fine, until your heels began dragging on the pavement. So Richie silently moved his arm up to support you and looked away, staring off to the side. He didn't want you to see the way his eyes had started to tear up as he saw through your facade.
Natalie had focused her gaze on you just after your parents left, face in a permanent concerned frown that made her look more like a mother than anything else, before nodding softly to you, “Hi sweetie… are you ready?”
Were you ready?
“I just…” you began, mouth drying up the second you began to talk.
Natalie nodded at you anxiously, reaching over to take your hand in her own. The calluses she had from years of cleaning up after everyone rubbed soothingly into your own hand.
You shrugged, “...I just feel numb.”
Beside her, Pete winced. Natalie shot him a small glare before softening up as she turned back to you, “It’s okay, you're free to stay out here if you need some space, okay? Whatever it is that you need, let us know and we can help…”
Wordlessly, you rubbed your thumb into her hand and turned to look inside the hallway. A couple family members had already spotted you, their once staring gazes averting themselves from your frame as they noticed you caught them watching. Hushed voices that whispered to one another died down to either silence or near silent whispers as they stole glances at you and Richie walking inside.
You turned and gave Natalie a small smile, "Don't worry about me, are you doing ok-"
"Oh, there you are!!!!" A voice interrupted you, exclaiming loudly. 
You reeled around to the noise and made eye contact with Donna, who was pushing through the crowd and rushing forward to you. Fast.
Your eyes widened. 
Too fast. 
Her body was a blur as she approached you. 
Like a bullet.
In an instant, that moment of breathing space you had in the car disappeared and all that numbness flew out the window, being replaced by intense panic. 
The room started to spin, making your eyes widen as she stood in front of you, speaking what seemed to be gibberish. 
"Shit," Richie mumbled, but his voice was invisible to you. 
All you saw was Donna, hair wild and clothes wrinkled. Her hands moved wildly as she talked, voice so loud in your ears that it felt like your eardrums would pop.
"Mom!" Natalie yelped beside you, finally taking you out of the trance you were in by pushing her body in between you and Donna. 
Donna gasped, speaking hushed but angrily at Natalie, "Natalie, what are you doing? Don't you see I'm trying to talk to her- What do you mean I'm overwhelming her?! She's fine, if she had a problem, she would tell me, isn't that right?"
You saw her peek over Natalie's shoulder, eyes searing a hole into your face, "Right?" 
Your throat tightened. 
"Donna, how about we go ahead and sit so the services can start, okay?" Your mother had rushed over and behind Donna, putting her hands on the erratic woman’s shoulders before steering her away from you. 
Your mom cast you a concerned glance as she redirected Donna away from you, letting her blabber on and on to her about the decor being different and the beautiful flowers they got set up for the service. 
But all you did was stare back, breaths staggered and eyes focusing back only to see all eyes on you. 
Natalie let out a shuddered wheeze, taking the initiative to redirect everyone watching into the room where the services would be taking place. Slowly, their eyes turned away. 
"You ok?" Richie's voice seemed to finally register in your brain. 
You whipped your head to him, "Uhm yea… are you?"
In front of him, he saw the way you rearranged your body language back to its "normal state". Your shoulders rolled back again and your head was held high. But this time, your face was blank and did nothing to show emotion. 
Richie nods, "Let’s just, uh, wait until everyone goes in, ok?"  
You took a shallow breath and blinked your eyes, adjusting to the dim, warm lighting of the building. The entire place felt warm from the artificial fireplace on the left wall, facade made of rich brown oak. The furniture matched in wood, feeling dated but comforting, like a grandmother's house. It made the panic in your body slowly melt away, being replaced by the numb feeling again.
You looked at the yellowish-orange patterned wallpaper and brown wood trimming on the walls and snickered to yourself, catching Richie's attention.
"This place looks like a small, hole in the wall restaurant that's maintained by a family. Mikey loves this kind of family style decor…" 
Richie squeezed his eyes shut, "Yea… he does." 
You watched as everyone filed into the next room, recognizing familiar faces like Fak, cousin Michelle, and Uncle Jimmy. You continued to scan the crowd, not seeing the way Natalie nodded towards Richie, signaling him to take you inside with everyone. 
You let yourself be guided behind the crowd, watching everyone who knew Mikey sit down in the chairs that were set up. Donna was sitting in the front next to your parents, still talking. Beside her were empty seats. There was one, two, three, four, and five; one for you, Richie, Natalie, Pete, and Carmy.
Carmy.
You paused.
"Where's Carmy?" 
Richie stopped moving and grimaced. 
Next to you, Natalie linked your free arm into her own, "He uh… he might come by later." 
"Did he ever respond to any of you? I sent him a photo of the service paper but he never responded to me." 
"Uh…" Richie was seemingly at a loss for words. 
Natalie sighed and looked at Richie before responding, "He didn't to me either. Didn't pick up any of my calls."
The panic started up again, slowly swirling deep in your belly, making you suddenly start to speak at the speed of light, "What? Why? Who wouldn't come to their brother's funeral?"
Natalie gulped, voice shaking as she tried redirecting you, "Hey sweetie, how about we go inside and then wait and see if he comes-" 
"I mean, everyone tried to get in contact with him so it's not like none of us didn't try." 
"Yea, your right, but maybe he is running late and was busy-" 
"If he was running late he would've let us know, i know he would." 
The panic made your breathing pick up, making you lightheaded as you took in gulps of stuffy, warm air. It was perfumed like flowers and mothballs, making you cough lightly. 
Michelle, who was seated towards the entrance of the room, turned to you, as did a couple others, as your voice started to increase in volume. It was unbeknownst to you that you began to speak louder and louder, loud enough that people around you could overhear. 
Richie said your name, stern but still worried, "Hey, take a breath and lower your volume."
"What do you mean? I'm fine?" 
Natalie just shook her head, "This was a mistake, we shouldn't have forced her to come."
You jerked your head to her, "Natalie, it’s fine. Besides, I wanted to come." 
Her shoulders sagged, "If this is too much for you, you are free to go-" 
"Please, I'm fine!" You responded, speech getting faster and faster, "You don't have to worry about me like you're my mom." 
"I know I know, but I worry about you regardless, you're my best friend!" 
"Natalie, I'm okay I swear-" 
Richie whisper-yelled at you two, "Let's take this back out, neither of you are okay right now."
"Richie I swear I'm fine, I just want to see my dead boyfriend in his casket!" You whisper-yelled back as you stomped a foot down.
At this point, others had begun turning to look at you. Natalie flushed, noticing the stares while Richie groaned softly, taking your arm and dragging you away from the entrance and to the front door. 
"Your obviously not okay, just stand here and take some fucking breaths." Richie whispered, voice stern. 
You blinked, letting yourself get pulled like a ragdoll. You stumbled as you leaned into the doorway, feeling shame set in your body. 
That was a new feeling. 
"I'm… i'm…" you began, blinking wildly as your face flushed and your chest tightened. 
"Listen, I know this is hard but don't force yourself to do this for any one of us, okay? You can sit out here and none of us will blame you or be upset. We all have our own ways of grieving and if staying away is yours, then do it. You don't need our acceptance in order to grieve in your own way." 
The tangent Richie went on felt so out of character for him that it made you go silent as you watched him enunciate every word. Natalie trailed behind him, holding onto her body with wide eyes as she too listened to his speech, both moved and confused.
With a choked breath, you responded, "Okay, I'm sorry."
Richie's tensed shoulders and furrowed brows softened. He saw the way you looked down and away from him, body drooping. For a split second, he saw through the demeanor you had been putting on since you got out of the car and saw who you really were: the grieving love of Mikey's life, terrified of what life was going to be like moving forward without him. 
Natalie reached over and rubbed your arm, before turning to Richie, "It's starting, you can go in if you would like…" 
Richie nodded grimly, looking at the floor for a brief second before reaching forward, taking your cheeks into his hand and giving your hairline a small peck. 
"You're not alone with this… we are here." 
You looked at him, a cross of confusion and relief written all over your face, making him hold back a laugh when he noticed it. Upon hearing his laugh mixed with a cough, you chuckled softly to yourself. Natalie was the only one not laughing, but still had a small smile on her face as she watched you two. 
“God this is so weird, are you a wise old man now or something?” You joked, gently pushing Richie’s shoulder.
Richie snorted and looked away, rubbing the back of his neck, “Ah it’s nothing, just something i learned… don’t think it’s gonna be this way all the time!”
The three of you smiled at one another, right up until Fak interrupted the sweet moment. 
“Hey guys… uh, the service is starting…”
Richie rocked his jaw, the smile he had disappearing from his face. He turned to Fak, annoyed already by him interrupting, “Listen man-”
Natalie loudly cleared her throat, narrowing her eyes at Richie for a second as a warning, making him trip up on his words. 
Richie coughed again and looked away, mumbling to himself about how annoying Fak was. Natalie just rolled her eyes and turned to Fak, smiling sweetly at him.
“Thank you, we’ll join you in a sec.” 
You watched them all interact with one another, some of the closest people in Mikey’s life that ended up becoming some of the closest people in your own life, but in this moment they felt so far away, emotionally and physically. The random moment of peace between you, Natalie, and Richie was fleeting and reality brought you back down to the present moment, reminding you where you were and why you were here. 
Just seconds ago it felt like a regular everyday moment where the three of you talked, waiting for Mikey to turn around the corner or come in from another room and join you, smirking like he always did. He would wrap his muscular arm around you, pulling you into his side and start to joke around with Richie. He would tap Natalie on her shoulder, acknowledging her, and bring Fak over with a laugh, joining all of you together with ease. Any annoyance and discomfort would just disappear around Mikey; he just knew what to say and what to do to bring everyone, even those with differences, together. 
But that would never happen again. 
Mikey was dead and that would never happen again. 
He would never hold you, pressing his body warmth against you, he would never kiss you, gently guiding your face with his large hand, and he would never love you, ever again. 
Your body seemed to finally catch up with the cocktail of emotions you have been feeling for the past weeks and settled on one to focus on: panic. 
It crawled up your throat, squeezing it in a way that made you feel as if any second now, you would be on the floor, clawing at the rug as you struggled to breathe. But you knew that as long as you didn’t let it overwhelm you, convince it that everything was ok, you would be fine. 
So you were going to do anything you needed to do to not let it overwhelm you again.
“Uh, you two head in, okay? I need a second alone.” you said, making them turn to you. 
With a clearing of your throat, you perked up, smiling, as if nothing that had just occurred even happened. Natalie looked at you, taken somewhat aback and concerned, but didn’t push further. Richie was the same, confused but didn’t want to say or do anything that would make you break down. 
“You sure you don’t want any of us here, we are more than happy to-” Natalie began, but you interrupted her by gently moving a strand of hair from her face and tucking it behind her ear.
“I’m okay, I'll join you in a second. Thank you both for being here with me.” you then brought them both into a gentle embrace, speaking clearly. 
Natalie and Richie exchanged a worried glance behind your back, both struggling to put on a smile to face you when they pulled back. 
Richie began to move to the room where the service had started, “Let us know if you need anything. Text us or call us or just say our name and we will be there.” 
You nodded and shooed them playfully off, leaving yourself standing against the doorway. The doors of the room where service had started closed behind them with a dull thud, leaving you truly alone in the entryway of the funeral home.
Your shoulders and smile dropped, eyes glazing over as you did so. With your heart continuing to race in your chest, you had no choice but to start pacing back and forth. The panic was starting to become too much to control so you tried your hardest to count your breathing, desperate to get it back into control. 
“Fuck…” you whimpered to yourself, feeling tears start to well in your eyes. 
You furrowed your brows and bit your lip, hard. You didn’t want anyone to see you cry, you didn’t want to be pitied. 
Suddenly, the doors opened wide, making you gasp and jump back, cold hands reaching to wipe any tears before you turned to see who was exiting. 
Donna came stumbling out, shushing someone inside, before closing the doors behind her. She sniffed loudly, pushing away her hair from her face right as she locked eyes with you. 
She frowned, continuing to stare at you as she walked forward to where you stood with red rimmed eyes and untouched makeup. She then moved to rifle through her purse, digging for something. 
You watched her silently, feeling your bottom lip quiver as she swayed back and forth.
You continued to watch as she pulled out a cigarette and a lighter, placing the cigarette between her red painted lips and lighting it aflame. With a deep drag and smoke sigh, she finally turned away from you.
She looked outside, staring at the gray clouds and half melted snow. It was getting colder and colder as the evening progressed, making her breaths of smoke even smokier as she breathed out. 
You turned, deciding that it was better to go inside than stand awkwardly around the mother of your boyfriend, whom you didn’t have the greatest relationship with. But right as you took a step, Donna called your name.
You glanced back at her, seeing her stumbling away from you but holding an unlit cigarette out. You were frozen to the spot, unsure whether or not to grab it and join her or go inside. But she seemed to answer that for you when she spoke up.
“Come on, I know you smoke. I’ve seen you and Carmy sneak out to smoke together sometimes during family dinners.”
You winced, feeling your cheeks heat up at having your behavior noticed by the one person you didn’t want to know, but moved forward to accept it regardless. 
As you placed the cigarette on your lips, she reached forward and lit it for you. The deep drag you took filled your lungs, making the chilly air from outside feel much more bearable. 
The two of you just stood there, side by side and silent, together, smoking. 
You burned about halfway through your cigarette before Donna spoke up, making your heart stop at her words. 
“You know… my son died, so I don't know why you are acting like you're the only one who is hurting.”
She threw the stub of her cigarette on the ground and stomped it with her shiny patent leather heel. With arms crossed, she looked at you and, with a low voice, she continued, “Everyone is just flocking to you and when no one gives you attention, you just make a scene and get them all back to you.”
Your entire body went cold.
“My poor Natalie is dealing with the death of her brother and all you do is make her wait hand and foot for you.”
Upon hearing this, all the fear in your body melted away and was replaced with burning hot anger. You knew her words were bullshit, but hearing her talk about Natalie like that, knowing how she treats her, made you clench your jaw.
In a surge of bravery, you retaliated, “Donna, how can you say that?”
She scoffed, “Please, stop acting like you are an angel who has done nothing wrong. You don’t have Mikey or anyone else here to protect you.”
Your mouth drops silently open letting the cig fall from your lips and to the ground, snuffing itself. You scanned her face with your fists balling against your side, seeing nothing but a smug look on her face as she ridiculed you.
With a sharp breath, you began, “You have never treated Natalie like a daughter. You're the one who made her the maid of your family. She practically raised Carmy and does everything for everyone. You made her act like an adult ever since she was a kid and, like everyone else, I had kept quiet about it for so many years just so we wouldn’t upset you. But I'm tired of it, this is the last straw.”
Donna rolled her eyes, “Oh puh-lease-”
But you interrupted her and continued, “So don’t act like you are suddenly concerned with how she is being treated, you never cared when you yelled at her over every little thing, so don’t start now.”
Donna looked at you, dropping her arms and glaring, “I bust my ass constantly for my children, I don't need someone like YOU pretending like you know everything-.”
“Donna, I've been around you since I was in elementary school. I grew up with your kids and around you. I know EXACTLY how you are.”
She clenched her jaw, eyes narrowing. 
But you didn’t stand down, not anymore, “None of your children are saints, but they try so fucking hard to be the best they can be given they had you as a mother. But it’s not like you would ever see that, huh?”
“All Mikey ever did was stress out, because of you! He tried to self medicate with pills and drugs and got addicted, because of you!” Donna suddenly screeched, quickly trying to divert the blame onto you.
You laughed out loud, “I’ve seen him do a couple things once or twice but Mikey was not an addict!”
Donna cackled, shaking her head furiously, “He was!! Ask Richie! Ask anyone! He was an addict, all because of you!!!”
You stepped back, eyebrows furrowing, taken aback at her words. Sure, Mikey was a bit erratic and loud, but that was his personality. He was just that type of person. And yes, he had tried a couple things before and even told you about his experience with them, but he never once did them around you or even mentioned doing them multiple times. He had vices, like smoking and having some drinks, but he wasn’t an addict.
Before you can further question, the doors were pushed open and Richie came rushing out, “What is going on?!”
You opened your mouth to respond but stopped when you heard Donna sob.
You flipped your head around to look at her but were greeted by a sight that made all that panic come barreling toward you again, replacing the anger. Donna was curled into herself, clutching onto her arms, with fat tears rolling down her face. Her sobs shook her body so violently that Richie rushed over and wrapped his arms around her to steady her. 
"What happened!?" Richie repeated, voice softer this time but just as worried as before. 
He looked at you with wide eyes as Donna sobbed, barely speaking through her gasps, "I tried to be the best mother for my children. I don't need you blaming me for my mistakes on the day of my son's funeral." 
As you watched her speak, your veins filled with ice. Only one phrase repeated in your head over and over as Richie looked between the two of you with wide eyes, ‘You fucked up, you need to leave. You fucked up, you need to leave. You fucked up, you need to leave. You fucked up, you need to leave.You fucked up, you need to leave…’
Richie called your name, making you look at him, "What happened?" 
Nothing came from your mouth but a strangled wheeze. You were frozen to the spot, pinned there by Donna's crying and Richie's stare. 
You fucked up, you needed to leave. 
Behind you, the door swung open again and your parents came rushing out with Natalie in tow. A couple peering eyes tried to look out from their seats inside, but the door closed on them before they could put together what was happening. 
"Mom!?" Natalie gasped out, rushing forward to Donna. 
Richie repeated what he said before, but you didn't hear his words. The only thing you could focus on was the way his eyes looked while staring at you, like you were a stranger. 
Donna continued to speak, saying something that was drowned out from your ears, replaced by silence and the deep throb of your heart beat. 
Right before your Mom could reach out to grab your arm, you spoke, "I need to leave, I need some time." 
You pulled the car keys from your jacket pocket and ran. 
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yeetus-feetus · 11 months
Text
incorrect quotes (pt16?)
Steph: How are you today? Tim: Please don’t make me think about my life.
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Dick: lifting weights Steph: Wow… he's so intense? Tim: I wonder what drives him. Dick, internally: Oh I am going to be SO good at giving hugs!
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Tim: Damian is a little bitch. Steph: Why? Tim: Number one, he's little. Number two, he's a bitch.
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Jason: You deserve a reward for putting up with me. Dick: You are my reward little wing. meanwhile Steph: You deserve a reward for putting up with me. Tim: True, you can be really difficult at times.
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Steph, at Jason's funeral: I need a moment with him. Everyone: Of course. They leave Steph, leaning over Jason′s coffin: Okay, listen here you little shit. I know you’re not dead. Jason: Yeah, no shit.
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Tim: Thought I was meowing back at Alfred the cat for the past hour, but it was just me and Damian meowing at each other from different rooms in the house.
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Note
hmmmmm how about villain trying to calm down hero (who's so fed up w/ their job, snapped and tried to kill v nearly 5 minutes ago)?
“You’re a bit of a psycho, don’t you think?” It only added fuel to the fire which the hero was right now, forming two very, extremely, small pupils and a death stare that was in the last stage of actually working on the villain. They held up their hands in defense. “Just saying.”
“Psychopath doesn’t even mean crazy, you dumb fuck,” the hero spat before they punched the villain again, this time harder, hard enough for them to take a few steps back and hold their bloody nose. It wasn’t enough to wipe that smirk off their face, though.
“Gosh, someone didn’t have a good night,” the villain said, laughing as the blood ran down their fingers. They probably looked a little unhinged like this but they had also shot some politicians on live TV earlier this year…it couldn’t really get worse than that, could it?
“I’m gonna skin you alive,” the hero promised.
“I doubt you have the expertise to do that, but it would be cute to see you try.” The bleeding had only just begun but the villain lowered their hands and grabbed one of the many hidden knives their suit offered. “This is fun.”
Though the hero delivered another hard blow, the villain managed to block and twist their arm, putting enough force into it to make the hero hiss in pain. The villain smiled to themselves when they managed to disarmed their enemy and hold them close, arms pinning their bodies against each other. The hero was strong but they were also a very simple person. Predictable fighting patterns usually occurred after a while in battle.
Adorable, really. But not beneficial for winning.
Blood from their nose dropped onto the hero’s shoulder.
With a hum, the villain pressed a blade against the hero’s throat but despite the struggle, nothing happened, the hero’s back was touching the villain’s chest. Cursing, the hero tried to wiggle themselves free.
“You’re a feisty kitten today. Love it.”
“Fuck off,” the hero replied. However, the villain only chuckled and pulled them closer.
“So tense today, darling. What’s gotten you all worked up?” The hero continued to struggle but the villain could tell their fight lost its spark as exhaustion overwhelmed them. Weakly they clawed at the villain’s arm and let the back of their head rest on the villain’s shoulder. It was more like their fingers dug into them to stay on their feet but the villain thought that to be quite impossible right now.
“I hate you,” they whispered.
“Congrats, get in line,” the villain joked but only silence echoed. The hero stopped the theatrics and stilled, somehow holding onto the villain in a desperate manner.
“They killed my sidekick,” the hero said and the shaking of their voice turned into a broken melody. “Suicide mission. They killed them.”
Oh.
“Christ—” The villain let go of them and when the hero turned around, the villain saw the tears rolling down their face. “Holy shit, I’m so sorry.”
“I don’t want this,” the hero said. “I don’t know if I want to kill every single person in this city or if I want to forget and move on. Eating is difficult. Stop eating is difficult. I don’t know what’s going on. I feel this anger all the time and it makes me sick and it exhausts me.”
The villain knew that feeling all too well. After losing their first sidekick, they had decided to never work with anyone ever again. They knew the hero had successfully trained two sidekicks already.
One for sorrow, two for mirth, three for a funeral.
“I’m sorry,” the villain said. “I’m really sorry.”
“I want to quit.”
“I don’t want you to.” The hero shot them an evil gaze.
“It’s not about what you want. It’s about what I want.”
“But if you’re quitting, I’m quitting and then I won’t have a job anymore,” the villain said. The hero seemed agitated again which was definitely better than being sad. Grief was messed up and the villain preferred being angry. “I need this job.”
“Then don’t quit?!”
“You know I can’t do that.”
“Not everything is about you.”
“Alright. Revenge. We kill those who killed your sidekick,” the villain suggested and the hero…froze. Eyes wide, mouth open, very much quiet. “We work together and make them pay.”
They had never thought they’d say these words ever again.
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Ooh how about 19 please? 😍
Absolutely! Also this made me check under my bed for cameras or you because I had in fact not eaten today because I am ill and hadn't psyched myself up to go make it, but I have since rectified that fact dfklgjdflkgjfd
ANYWAY, on with the prompt!
prompt list here!
19. “Have you eaten anything?”
It had been a long and hard week in Seattle for Beca. The call had come in the middle of the night, leaving her to scramble out of bed and hastily cram some clothes into a bag before heading to the airport.
Her mom was in an accident. It looked bad, really bad. Her aunt had told her that she had to get here just in case. So she did, she put all her flight anxiety to oneside and sat in the metal death tube for five and a half hours, flagged down a cab, and went straight to the hospital.
She got there just in time to say goodbye to her mom, sat squeezing her hand tightly as the life support machine was turned off, sobbing into her shoulder as she lost her mom for good.
As her next of kin, Beca now had to figure out what to do with all her mom's stuff, organise the funeral, inform the members of her family what had happened. She emailed her professors to explain she needed a few weeks off and they were thankfully very understanding, the Bellas had offered to drop everything and come out to help her but she turned them down. This was her responsibility, her mom, she had to sort this whole mess out.
"Have you eaten anything?"
Beca sniffed softly as she shook her head. She had been sat on the front porch of her childhood home, staring vacantly out at the street, barely noticing the chilly wind that bit at her skin. She had grown up in Seattle after all, she was used to this kind of cold.
"No. I'm not hungry."
There was a soft sigh from above her before the porch creaked next to her, turning her head slightly to look at the woman now sat beside her. Chloe gave her a small, sad smile, tucking a loose lock of hair behind Beca's ear. It was limp and a little greasy, Beca having been far too busy and lost in her grief to even entertain the idea of a shower since she'd arrived in Seattle.
"You need to eat Becs. You've barely had anything since you got here."
"I know." Beca swallowed thickly, subtly shifting closer to Chloe so she could rest her head on her shoulder, "But everything makes my stomach turn."
"You want to try some soup?" Chloe offered, winding her arm around Beca's shoulders, giving them a gentle squeeze.
"Maybe." Beca nodded a little, "That could be nice."
They sat in silence for a few moments, Beca curling more into Chloe's embrace, slowly trying to get as close to her as possible. Chloe didn't mind, it was one of the reasons she had insisted on coming with Beca. She knew how difficult Beca found it to open to people, to be emotionally vulnerable with anyone, the only other person in the world that Beca would be this close too, figuratively or literally, was her mom.
"I don't want to go tomorrow." Beca's voice was thick as Chloe felt the side of her neck where her face was buried start to grow damp.
"I know baby..." Chloe sighed softly, rubbing small circles on Beca's back and kissing the crown of her head, "But you have to. You'd never forgive yourself if you missed the funeral."
"But if I go then it'll be real..." Beca whispered, "She'll really be gone Chlo, I... I don't want her to be gone, it's not fair."
"It's not." Chloe shook her head, feeling Beca start to shake as her gentle tears turn into sobs, "You're right, it's not fair that she's gone. I wish I could change it for you."
Beca didn't say anything for a while, simply sobbing in Chloe's embrace. Chloe stroked her hair, shushing her softly but letting her cry herself out. She hadn't cried since the hospital, and that had been five days ago. Beca was really good at bottling her emotions up until they exploded out at the wrong moment, and with a loss of this magnitude, if she crammed it all down it would destroy her. So Chloe would let her feel everything that she needed to, let her be angry or sad or irritated or tired, or even a combination of the above, and not take it to heart, because at the end of the day at least Beca was feeling something.
"I'm really glad you're here." Beca croaked as her sobs subsided, sitting up a little as she wiped at her face with her sleeve and resting her forehead against Chloe's, "I... I wouldn't be able to do this without you. Thank you for coming."
"Of course." Chloe smiled at her brushing her hair from her face again, "Even though you insisted on me staying at home?"
"Yeah." Beca managed a small grin in return, "I'm glad you didn't listen to me."
"C'mon." Chloe took Beca's hands in hers, gently encouraging her to her feet, "It's cold out here, your hands are turning red. Let's get you something to eat inside."
"Okay." Beca nodded, "Would you be mad if I said I wanted pizza and not soup?"
"No." Chloe grinned, arm around Beca's waist, "What made you want pizza instead?"
"Mom and I really like this place a few blocks away, they do these insanely good cheesy garlic knots." Beca shrugged a little, expression getting watery again, "I just... I thought it would nice to share that with you."
"That's really sweet Becs." Chloe beamed at her, "I'd like that."
"Cool." Beca swallowed thickly, eyes roaming over the familiar interior of the home she had grown up in, feeling that ache settle in her chest again, "I wish she got to meet you Chloe. She would've loved you."
"Me too." Chloe nodded sadly, "I never got to thank her for giving me you."
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oneshotnewbie · 1 year
Text
Emily Prentiss - The littlest hero
Part II
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⚠️Trigger Warning⚠️ This one-shot includes the topics of abuse, trauma, child neglecting, punishments and the plots are presented. If this triggers you too easily or you just can´t handle the subject, I urge you NOT to read this work. I am NOT embellishing this topic under any circumstance. Read at your own risk.
ᕚ---ᕘ
Exhausted, Emily headed towards the kitchen. The day started early for her, it was going to be a long day at work and she just wanted to spend the day at home. Happy to have a refreshing hot cup of coffee, he walked past a room and heard a quiet murmur through the door.
She carefully went to the door, placed her ear against the ajar door and listened. That was not really the special agent's style, but she had been through it many times over the last few years. She could hear you from inside, but you did not speak clear sentences, just fragments and could clearly hear the word "dad" pronounced several times. Then she realized that you had to experience another difficult dream.
She poked her head through the crack as she heard you getting more nervous and louder. Nightmares like that were no joke and when you suddenly started calling for her name in your sleep, she had to come to you. Your cries became more and more irritated and desperate. By now tears were streaming down your face too and it was hard for her to imagine the hell you had to go through in your past.
You tossed and turned restlessly in your bed, sweat glistening thickly on your forehead. With quick steps, Emily bridged the last few meters between her and you. She gently shook your shoulders, "Y/n, sweetie. Wake up!" you jumped up, breathing shallowly and quickly, trying to find your bearings in the darkened room you were laying in. "You are safe, I am here."
A hand placed itself on your chest, feeling your heartbeat drilling into it. You nodded, your gaze wandering around the room disoriented before your sight stopped at Emily´s face reliefed. "Your father can not hurt you anymore. It is all good," the black-haired woman sat on the edge of the bed, her hand still firmly on your chest. "That was just a nightmare."
Exhausted and looking for support, you let yourself sink into her protective embrace and were glad that she was with you now. "Do you want to talk about it?" she asked, brushing through your silky hair. You silently raised your shoulders and let them fall again. "No, I do not know."
You looked over at the window. The first rays of sunlight penetrated through the shutters into your pink room and you realized she must have just gotten up from her own sleep- her hair messy while her tired features were soft and relaxed. The sight alone made the storm inside you slowly subside.
You were safe. You had always been safe since you came into the care of the black-haired woman. It was just a dream of your past that you did not seem to push aside as quickly as you wanted. " That is okay, you do not have to talk about it," she spoke softly and began to move into the tiny space under your duvet, but rested her head on her hand and looked at the little penguins skiing on your pajamas. You nodded and pushed yourself into the far corner of your princess bed to make more room for her.
Emily knew nightmares, there was hardly a night where you did not get any and slept peacefully, but you both worked on it with a psychologist. The dreams were actually always just about your father or the white wardrobe. Depending on what your subconscious was processing, it tormented you even in your own childhood dreams.
And today was an especially hard night. Your father's funeral was yesterday and you could hardly stand the thought of saying goodbye to your father. In your eyes, he deserved to finally die. You had discussed it openly with your adoptive mother and she had decided with you that you had no obligation to be seen at his funeral. It would probably cause you more pain and reopen old wounds than it would provide you with any kind of release.
You wanted nothing more to do with your father and your past. You finally wanted to live and arrive, in the here and now, without being constantly chased by the ghosts of the past. You needed time to process all of this and come to terms with it. It would take time, after all it was a long-term trauma, but your new life together with Emily taught you courage.
After a few minutes of silence, in which you enjoyed her closeness and your heart calmed down, you spoke up again. "Can you maybe sleep with me today?" You asked sheepishly and smiled, watching as Emily began to grin mischievously.
She graced your stomach with one finger, before dropping down and starting to tickle you like crazy. Your laughter lit up the entire apartment in a cheerful and happy atmosphere as you loudly tried to get out of her grasp. The nightmare disappearing from your memory.
"There is no more sleeping here, princess. It is time for school, math is calling."
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strayheartless · 7 days
Text
So you’re not alone:
Alrighty, have a little bit of platonic CloudGeal for your soul because I felt like Angeal needed a a friendly cuddle for some reason!
****
Usually around his Dads anniversary, several of things happen every year without fail:
Genesis and Sephiroth camp out on his couch the night before and look after him all day.
Zack does everything he tells him to the first time around and when his attention wanders he apologises quickly and tries again.
He’s not left alone at any point in the day.
This year, things are going a bit differently and it’s nobodies fault that it is. Sephiroth had been called away to mideel; Genesis was still in Wutai and Zack was on a second class training exercise that did not “require Angeals presence,”. Angeal thought Lazard had stated that specifically to spare him the heart ache, and while he appreciated the gesture, it actually ached a bit more to be left on his own than to be busy.
Maybe he should have headed back to Banora for a week, but his mothers stiff upper lip approach to his fathers death made being around her difficult in a way that Angeal felt immensely guilty for. He’d call her this evening, he always did, but being there… it was more trouble than it was worth.
Apart from anything else there was nothing in Banora to visit. Angeal had been a Third class when his dad had died and as a result of that he’d had a third class wage. There was very little he could do to help pay for a funeral and even less he could do to pay for a headstone. His father had been cremated not buried and his ashes were scattered along the beach. There was nothing left but the Buster sword.
… some days that sword felt like a grave marker on his back.
Laying in bed, Angeal stares vacantly at the ceiling, wondering if he should just go back to sleep, when a sound from his kitchen catches his attention. It sounds like butter hitting a hot pan. As he tries to concentrate on it the corresponding smell tells him he was right. There was another sizzle.
What on Gaia? Who was in his apartment?
Getting up Angeal grabs his hoodie off of the back of his chair and shuffles through the hall to the kitchen. The lamps were on rather than the overhead light which suggested Sephiroth, but as he rubbed the sleep out of his eyes it was blonde hair that caught his attention not silver. The person was standing in front of the cooker pouring what looked like pancake batter into a hot pan. The smell was Devine and it takes Angeal a second to realise there was bacon going too.
“Um… hello?” He said, making the blond jump.
Cloud Strife turns round to look at him, doing his best not to look too sheepish.
“Hey” he muttered.
“Hey” Angeal blinks a few times. “Don’t think I’m being ungrateful for you cooking breakfast, but er, why are you in my apartment?”
Cloud blushes a little, but to his credit he squares his shoulders against the urge to duck his head. He’s been part of their merry little band for a few months now. Zack had been insistent that he join them for most things, and in actual fact Angeal quite enjoyed the kids company. He was quiet but he listened. The kid was still a little nervous around them at times though.
“Oh, er, Zack said you’d likely be having a hard time today… so I figured I’d come keep you company,” he gestures to the food as if it was the definition of company.
Angeal blinks again.
“You didn’t have to do that. I would have been alright,”
“Yeah I know, but my Mom doesn’t really like being alone during my dad’s anniversary and Com- I mean Genesis mentioned you found it hard to be on your own so I just… I figured I could help.”
Cloud scratches the back of his head before seemingly remembering that he had Pancakes to flip. As he turns away Angeal places his hand on the back of a chair to steady himself.
“Don’t…” he croaks out. “Don’t you have work today?”
Cloud shrugs.
“Na, took a days leave. I usually have some spare that I loose out on so it’s cool.”
Angeal sits down heavily. Why on earth would he do that for him? That was such a kind thing to do. They barely knew each other. Sure he liked Cloud, but to go out of his way to make Angeal feel better on his worst day of the year? That seems…
Cloud drags his attention back by placing a plate in front of him with a glass of Orange juice. There’s a percolator full of fresh coffee too and Angeal feels embarrassingly like he might burst into tears.
“Look,” Cloud says. “When my Dad died I was real little, so I can’t really commiserate on that front. But I’ve spent most of my life watching my Ma get real low because people just expect her to be fine. So I had this little ritual I started to try and make her feel better. Even if she didn’t smile, I just wanted her to know she wasn’t alone. So making breakfast and then taking her out for a walk or something was just what we did.”
Clouds leg is bouncing nervously under the table. It’s not hitting the wood but Angeal can see it in the tiny way his left side moves. He wants to know if he’s overstepped. Angeal is more than willing to let him know he hasn’t. Getting out of his seat Angeal gestures for Cloud to stand, and when he does, he crushes the younger man in a hug.
He hadn’t wanted to be alone today. He’d thought he was just going to have to deal with it, but Cloud Strife decided that wasn’t what was going to happen. He’d been kind enough to consider Angeal when he got up this morning and honestly it was overwhelming.
“Thank you,” he whispered into Clouds hair. “Thank you for being here,”
Cloud finally lifts his arms to hug back.
“Your welcome Angeal. I’ll be here all day if that’s what you need.”
And he was.
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So usually, I will discuss posts from reddit and provide screenshots but today I just wanna discuss the post itself. Most of the commenters are calling her out anyway
I'm reusing this throwaway to again avoid connection to my main.
I (38F) have been dating my current boyfriend (36M) for about 2 years now. It's very difficult for me to make long term commitments like this because of issues I've had growing up and with past relationships - however we've been making things work despite my baggage for the most part.
We hit a roadblock in our relationship a week and a half ago. My bf has his own familial baggage: to sum up without going into the nitty gritty his biological mom left him when he was young. They reunited half a year or so ago - and I guess things went ok there? A little bit over a week ago she passed away, and surprisingly he's taken it way harder than I expected. This is the first time I've seen him cry - and to be honest I hate it. I've done my fair share of crying over my years but I've grown past that phase and in the present I'm not sure I enjoy having that energy around.
Things got worse when he found out his bio mom's family would not let him attend her funeral. Because of this, he hasn't worked since to "take his own time to mourn". I've tried to talk to him about it as I don't get why he's exahausting so much effort to mourn someone who has barely been in his life. He's gotten angry with my reaction but he does know I'm not fit to deal with what he's doing at the moment because of my own experiences.
Now that it's been over a week I've grown both worried and annoyed about the situation. I had a sit down with him and another friend two nights ago to talk to him. I'm not one to hold back so I outright told him to just get over the whole thing already and how it isn't normal to react this much to someone who had wronged him so much. Our mutual friend wasn't expecting that - and to be precise she completely failed to mediate the talk from then on.
Some time into our fight he started crying - yet again. I was really uncomfortable and I outright demanded he stop. He had to be removed from our home. He's been staying with our friend since then and I've been really confused on how to approach further. Our friend has told me I was being harsh but again he knows how I am and how I deal with negative emotions. Still talking with her further has gotten me thinking about how I handeled things.
Edit - clarifying things.
This isn't about my bf's masculinity. The way he's acting triggers something in me. It brings me back to a dark place - that's the negativity I can't be around.
My boyfriend has been my emotional rock for most of our relationship - this sudden shift in his attitude is also contributed to my reaction to the whole ordeal.
I'm not heartless, as I said I have a very rough way of displaying my emotions. Genuinely I feel concern about how my boyfriend is acting.
This is so messed up
First of all, she had no business judging him for crying. If it truly brings her to a dark place(/her not being fit to deal with it) then she needs to get herself some help (and I'm not saying that to be snarky) instead of being in a relationship. You can't be in a relationship with someone, having them be there for you (in this case, emotionally) but you can't be there for them. It isn't fair at all. He can't just be her emotional rock while she doesn't do anything in return.
She also has no business judging him for why he's mourning. He's obviously torn up about it. Maybe he's mourning for the relationship he didn't get to have. Maybe they planned on further patching things up. Whatever it is, she has no right to act like he shouldn't be grieving, especially when she knows he isn't even allowed to attend the funeral.
And then for her to become annoyed--not cool, not okay. How do you just tell someone, a week after their loved one passed, to get over it? How? You don't just suddenly become okay again after a little bit of time passes by. Grief is hard and can be overwhelming. It's harder if you're in a situation like this with an unsupportive S/O.
The kicker is that she demanded him to stop crying and kicked him out. That is abhorrent.
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alltingfinns · 11 months
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TEH, part 3
I wasn’t sure how much there was left after the bonfire scene but apparently there’s about a half hour left, meaning these parts are in neat thirds.
I write as if anyone else knows what I’m talking about when these drop randomly once a year or so.
Sherlock remained more in focus from John’s perspective.
Still so cute how Sherlock immediately must hustle his parents out when his crush heterosexual former roommate shows up.
Mum putting her foot in the doorway in case there was any doubt who’s the “sherlock” of these two.
“Your parents? Your parents? Those were your parents?”
John who desperately wants to understand Sherlock. How much he would have wanted to interrogate them, I’m sure. But then he has to giggle at the absurdity of the Holmes brothers having such (seemingly) ordinary parents.
And then the hurt. “Did they know too?”
“So that’s why they weren’t at the funeral!” Because if they had been, John would have recognized them now of course. But also he probably thought they had died or something, making their existence as ordinary people even more shocking.
“Wasn’t working for me.” If Molly and John not mirrors then why this exact line. Why not “Well, everybody hated it” or “Didn’t fit me” or “Kept tickling my lips”.
Just saying. Plenty of options.
“Last night” “Too nebulous” goes on with the case.
There’s all the likelihood that, like with Sherlock’s survival, the writers just didn’t care who put John in the bonfire. They just wanted John in the bonfire. So that Sherlock could heroically rescue him.
And yes I was thinking about how this episode takes place “today” as in 5th November as in Guy Fawke’s Day. (Though the cool kids call it John Johnson’s day.)
Am I just that Johnlocked that I find it adorable that Sherlock angled the laptop so that John would see more/be more included?
Sumatra road is 28 minutes by car from Westminister. Definitely not below it. Gotta take some creative liberties for those sweet canon references.
Why hasn’t Moran just left town entirely? Oh well.
A bit of illegal breaking and entering as people walk by without giving them a second glance. That’s big cities for you.
I forgot how far they have to go through this.
Love that John got to comment on the demolition charges.
Ah, I get it! Moran still has to be in like radio range or something.
“Why do you think I know what to do?” Really, Sherlock? Really?
“And a soldier, as you keep reminding us all!” Sherlock why are you being so petty, you love him being a former soldier.
051113 is the bomb code.
I just love the line “Use your mind palace” because it makes me think of how intelligence is weirdly used as a superpower in media.
Also that you can vaguely hear Sherlock saying “off” as he’s panicking with his hands around the bomb.
John is so fucking smart but also maybe he also just has faith in Sherlock being clever enough. But anyway just cutting through the bullshit, this is a trick.
Maybe Sherlock is underhanded here. But John finds this sort of stuff difficult.
So here we get John Watson’s version of Dean Winchester’s purgatory prayer. “Of course I forgive you”
This explanation is definitely unreliable narrator. Sherlock wasn’t quite as in control as he likes to portray himself so of course he makes it out otherwise. But he’s convinced that Moriarty died but again: A. Singular. Body.
This explanation means that it was John that most importantly had to buy it. Possibly because close friend, with medical certification who Sherlock nonetheless felt he couldn’t trust the acting skills of.
I think this scene happened (more or less) and sometime after the proper end to the episode. But like even Anderson(Philip) noticed that the explanation is lacking.
Sherlock laughing like the utter little shit he is.
“There’s always an off switch.” Say that to the undefusable bomb. Although technically it did have an off switch, it was just too complicated to be tried without knowing the proper sequence.
Getting John to laugh even when he’s angry with him.
They really are the right kind of wrong for each other.
Mycroft being les miserable. XD
“Weddings. Not really my thing.”
You’re going to be planning and arranging the whole thing you miserable bastard!
A difference between Molly and John. She went for the suspiciously similar substitute, he went for (what he believed to be) the exact antithesis.
Oh my little lestrolly heart at Lestrade asking if Molly and Tom are serious. Although he is likely doing it because he is the one who would comment on the elephant.
“Real life is rarely so neat.” The goddamn bonfire.
They’re literally saying that the one true explanation for Sherlock surviving is that John asked him to.
“Time to be Sherlock Holmes.” *wears the damn hat*
Sherlock’s mind palace is certainly nicer than Magnussen’s.
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