#I've gotten so attached to this dude it hadn't happened in months

[genericswordsmaiden]

I finished reading Buster Keaton's memoirs and honestly I loved this book so much that I miss it (it's been only two hours)

Highlights from the last two chapters include:

the way he defines his marriage to Eleanor as the best thing that happened to him in 1940

some anecdotes about Chaplin and thoughts on the situation he was facing at the time, since he was basically exiled from the USA

the way he narrates the reunion with his two sons, and the joy that transpires from reading about the regular visits he receives from them and their respective families - and being called grandpa (dear god it is so heartwarming)

and last but not least, the memory of being on a ship in the city of Genova where the sailors recognized him and called him "Booster". At first I laughed and thought "ah, typical compatriots in the '50s, greeting a foreigner and getting their name wrong" - then I remembered my own language's rules and realized that "oo" corresponds to the pronunciation for the letter "u" in Italian. They were calling him by his name, only using the so-called "pronunciation of a word as it is written" and that made me smile so much so much for some reason.

I wonder if he ever knew that we referred to him as "Saltarello" (I don't know if it can be translated, but it derives from the word "salto", that is "jump").

Anyway I strongly recommend this book for every fan out there if they haven't already read it. Beyond being parts of a life that changed cinema, it also contains a first-person point of view of what the film industry was like in the '20s and '30s, how it changed, as well as some comments about that slice of society.

10/10 would gladly erase this from my memory just to read it the first time again

[georgemackayhey]

Rules For Falling In Love: #3

summary: In which George wants to get married. But… you’re not dating. Why should you say yes?

a/n: So sorry I've been MIA! Here's the news. There are only two chapters left of this fun little story. And something else is in the works for which I'll be posting a sneak peek of very soon (bet ya can't guess what it is!) I hope you're all still just as in love with this plot, though, because I know I am. Let me know your thoughts as always, dudes

w/c: 3k

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"What the hell are you doing?" You hissed through your teeth at your very own reflection. You were dressed for any imaginable occasion. If folks noticed you waltzing down the street, they might assume you were on your way to lunch with friends. They might think you were headed to the market, or to the movies, or shopping around. But they most likely wouldn't imagine you were on your way to get married. But you were.

You perfected your lipgloss and fixed your hair, and when there was nothing left to primp, you stood there, still, waiting for the girl on the other side of the glass to reach through, grab your shoulders and shake some sense into your head. But she didn't.

///

"That's it? We're done?" You asked in a stunned breath. The cheery old fellow who'd walked you through the process of signing a bunch of papers and reciting a few promises smiled, but studied you for a beat before nodding.

"You're married, now. Congratulations!" He escorted you and your group toward the door, waving a bony hand from the entry before slamming the old wooden door shut, abandoning you in the massive marble halls.

"Oh, that's absolutely not it." George's sister whined. The girl yanked you and her brother out into the warm sunshine. She shoved some wildflowers in your hands, forced you to stand in place, and shoved her brother to your side. George draped an arm around your shoulder as you both grumbled for the girl to stop making such a fuss.

"Just think of all the things I was talked out of doing. The party I could have- no, should have thrown. Now smile!" She rose her phone camera and snapped a few shots, humming with satisfaction when she was decidedly finished. Bless her, she really did only want the best for the two of you. And you and George were due for some new photos besides the ones snapped of your forced smiles at the latest award show.

"Well, I forgot to bring cake as promised, but let me take you round the cafe uptown to kick off my stress eating. " Dean sighed as if someone was making him pitch the offer.

"Sounds like ya need it." You jested. Dean rolled his eyes and gave you a real, soft smile. George's sister left with a big wave and a dramatic congratulations.

Dean was excited to choose your celebratory treats himself, and was the first to dart inside the posh cafe when you arrived. You and George followed, laughing about how your friend had transformed into the classic "kid in a candy shop." You lost Dean to the winding line and moved to find some big comfy seats in the busy shop.

The reality of your latest achievement hadn't quite set in yet. George's laughter was such a familiar, comforting sound, as you settled beside him on some ridiculously oversized ottoman. Today was just... another day.

"Please tell me that what Dean just told me is a big fat joke." A familiar lilt pipped up from the other side of the paint chipped coffee table in front of you. George's agent was stood, slack-jawed with a big, whip cream filled to-go coffee in hand. How funny she happened to be here, you thought. Only her surprise greeting was much different from the times you'd bumped into each other and chatted in line at the markets, before.r

"It's nice to see you too, Donna." George laughed, watching as she set her drink down and moved to sit in the claw foot chair at your side. The woman reached for your hand in a flash, focusing on the ring you'd grown rather attached to over the week.

"Surprise?" You laughed, a twinge of worry settling in your stomach as the woman glanced up to you, eyes full of shock.

"Why on earth did you get married?" She asked in a slow squeak, turning to George as you drew your hand out of her clutch. "More importantly why haven't you told me?"

"Well, it's only just happened. Like half an hour ago." George looked to you, then back to his agent. Donna let out a laugh, and you understood her shock, but her reaction was a bit unnerving. She continued to ask a string of rhetorical questions, how, why, where, why, why?

That was about the time Dean emerged from the line that was now flooding out of the doors and around the building. Was it filling up in here, or was the place closing in on you? A nagging unease settled at the base of your lungs as George told Donna some of the things you'd discussed and what led you to signing some papers, together.

Your favorite third wheel plopped down a tray of little bite-sized cakes, decorated in different shades of pretty pastel icing. They reminded you of the macaroons George brought home from the last award show after-party, and never shared.

"Care to join in the celebration? Tea is on it's way." Dean spoke in Donna's direction before casting his gaze to you, sitting across the way.

"Unfortunately, I've got to get going, but I do wish we could continue discussing what the hell you two have gotten yourselves into." Donna stood, with a wavering smile, grabbing her condensation covered to-go coffee, and spinning toward the door to the tune of your crew's goodbyes.

You glanced down to the cakes Dean had picked out, as he piped up to explain their fillings and flavors. George reached over to place a hand on your knee, as he nodded along to his friend's excited dessert-themed rambles. All the worry that had sprouted at Donna's confusion was swiftly put at ease when you noticed the ring on George's finger. This was your decision, together. You'd talked it all the way through and back. Anyone else's worry over the matter didn't hold value over that fact.

When your tea came, you had managed to ask Dean about the girl he'd been seeing. The three of you noshed on divine desserts and listened to your friend gush over the girl he'd taken on a fourth date, just the night before last. His eyes sparkled and you couldn't help but smile when he paused to think up just how to describe his new beau. He was lucky to have found someone who brought a blush to his cheeks at the mention of their name. Hers, was Claire.

You'd been enraptured by Dean's rose-colored chatter, so much so that your phone's sudden rhythmic buzz in your pocket made you gasp aloud.

"Oh shit." You muttered, past a bite of cake. "We're gonna be late for that thing." You turned to George whose face lit up in recognition. He had an interview today, one for a late-night talk show that would be on air long after you'd settled in for the night.

George thanked his friend for the desserts and for being there today, for the both of you. You knew George meant it, you knew how important it was to him. But to hear his genuine appreciation in his goodbye to Dean made your heart lurch.

"I know I've been giving you both a hard time about this, and I'm still a bit confused by the whole thing, but honestly, I'm happy for you both. And I'm glad you let me come along today." Dean shrugged as you all stood to head your separate ways. Now your heart was a puddle, as you flung yourself to the fellow, wrapping him in a hug and thanking him for being too good a friend. You were lucky too, you figured.

///

It was almost actually funny how uncomfortable these things made George. He was so keen to be a movie star, in the most romantic sense, of course. He could go on for days (months, even, you suspected) about the magic of storytelling and all the lessons to be learned from his chosen career.

But promoting his works, promoting himself, wasn't something he was fond of in the very least bit. So once, you tagged along to some garish dinner party that was really just a competition for best dressed, in disguise. He mingled with the people he knew, and the people he was meant to know, trying with all his might to make genuine connections because if he'd failed to learn at least one person's life story on a night out, he considered the evening wasted. And when they asked about him, he'd get it over with in a flash before turning his attention to you, introducing you, asking you to tell that one story. And when you were left alone to await the next celebrity encounter George begged you with his hands clasped together to come along with him to all of the ridiculous Hollywood shindigs he was ever required to attend. And of course, you couldn't tell the boy no.

So tonight was another one of many. You went home, tossed on a dress, and spun out of the door again without a second to breathe. All your focus was spent reminding George that this would all be worth it in the end. How selling his latest film to millions of viewers would ensure the story he was so proud to have been a part of would effectively become dear to most everyone who tuned in to hear his interview.

When you crept through the studio doors, hand in hand, the welcome George received was perplexingly warm. Interns offered both of you snacks and drinks, directors passed through the green room doorway with beaming smiles, and instructions for George to follow. Writers breezed in, covering the last of the bases, and a friendly old makeup lady fussed over his look just in time for George to float to the stage. When he did, he dragged you along with him. You let go behind all the cameras, promising you'd be near the door's he was meant to exit- near enough to give him the odd thumbs up and dash away when it was all said and done.  

A small audience murmured as the set changed, and cameramen fluttered about. And then it was off. A man in a casual suit sped through a nauseating, over-rehearsed introduction and you wondered how many of the audience members were laughing for real or because they'd been told to.

And then, out of nowhere, without any warning, the interview took a turn you hadn't prepared for in the least. After the usual quick nice to see you again greetings had been passed back and forth, the host asked George a question he already knew the answer too and presented a photograph you hadn't even gotten the chance to see yet.

It was the one his sister had taken this morning, with the wildflowers, out in the midmorning sun. She'd posted it to her Instagram, tagging you in the caption that featured some long-winded sentiment. And you knew that the girl only had you in mind. She probably wasn't dreaming of George's next interview when she uploaded the photo for the world to see. She most definitely probably wasn't thinking of a moment like this coming true, and how her brother would hate it. In the blink of an eye, you envisioned George angrily phoning his sister and her dramatic defense, and a big unnecessary row breaking out.

But then you zoned back to life and watched George answer the interviewer's question with a small smile. He confirmed that he was officially married, and glad to be. George swiftly moved the conversation toward the film he was meant to prompt, which didn't sway the host on a strict schedule to cover all sorts of topics in the next three minutes. But George wasn't dismissive of the subject. He didn't squirm when the aspect of his personal life was spoken aloud to a room full of strangers. He smiled and caught your eye from the stage. You were too stunned to give him the usual thumbs up from where you waited, you just watched as he grinned, and nodded when the host offered his congratulations.

Then it was over, and the audience flooded away, and you and George hurried to collect yourselves and leave in as big of a hurry as you could without seeming rude. He held your hand like a vice, and you led the way out of the exit, toward the car park.

Before you could reach sweet freedom, a small crew of George's fans had been waiting near the back, with hopes of catching a moment of the guys time they'd come to watch get interviewed. The three young girls held out a marker and asked for his autograph in a shy manner. You noticed most of the fans George encountered over the years were just as meek and mild as the guy himself.

So he smiled and agreed with pleasure, as you awkwardly shifted on the sidelines, unable to flee to the car across the way because he had the keys.

"We're really happy for you, by the way." One of the girls piped up, facing you. "You guys have like, always been our favorite couple."

"You restore our faith in love." Another one of the girls giggled, approaching George with movie posters in hand.

All the complex feelings in your gut the rose at the girl's comments didn't matter. It was entirely too sweet of them to say something. So you thanked them with a smile, and waved goodbye when the last of them had their selfie with George. He said goodbye and turned toward the car with a sigh. You could practically see the weight of the evening's events fall off of his broad shoulders.

You piled into the passenger seat, debating on what to have for dinner, already knowing he dreamed of nothing more than a self-indulgent end to the long night. When you both agreed on what to have, a silence fell over the two of you for the first time all day.

It was heavy with different versions of the same question, the same subject. You'd woken up in one era, one that ended around ten this morning. And neither of you had much of a chance to talk about the fact that you were married now.

"Are you... happy?" You spoke up, at last, watching the world float by on your drive through the city.

"I am. Are you?" George smiled, turning to catch your eye, glancing back at the road ahead a couple of times.

"Yeah." You laughed a little. You wouldn't have agreed to any of this if you weren't dead sure you'd be at peace when the decision was made. And you were filled with that same calm that filled you in the cafe, this morning when George rested his hand on your knee. You'd made the right decision for the both of you, and you were very glad for it indeed.

///

Three months had passed. They were quite busy, and filled with all the usual stress that any typical trio of months held. But as the days passed by, you found George was right, somehow. Things... were easier. Maybe you'd talked yourself into believing so, but you noticed celebrities had stopped leaving you out of chit chat when they breezed through after-parties. You notice stranger men had stopped pestering you at the bar, half of the time. And when you met new people and wound up in new places, you didn't have to go through the long spiel of who Geogre was to you, and why he was always around. He was simply your husband, now.

It was strange to get used to the tile at first, but by the time you'd made it to month four, it rolled off your tongue like melting butter. George seemed most keen to use your unity to get out of other plans.

"Sorry I'll have to miss the next gala, my wife wants to go kayaking." You'd never kayaked. You didn't know how, and you'd never brought it up.

"Ah yes, I am that guy from that one movie but sorry I can't come back to your motel, I've got to help my wife pick out dinner." He had rushed you along grocery store stalls in a hurry to escape the odd, unnerving encounter.

That's how your week started, avoiding the scary fan who kept stalking through the market, stopping George with strange questions around too many corners. It wasn't his most unsettling encounter, but one that left the poor guy on edge for another day or so. You'd get home after fifteen-hour shifts, too tired to talk about it. Too tired to ask what he'd been up to all day.  

By the end of your week, you'd barely seen George, and he'd been just as busy. You ended your last, hellish never-ending shift with tears in your eyes from the thousands of little things that had piled up and left you stressed till it was time to clock out.  

You got home to find George in the living room, reaching for the remote. He left the thing on the coffee table when he twisted to see you in the doorway, worn down, strung out, over it. He asked if you were alright as you kicked your shoes away and hung your coat up in a hurry to decompress.

You demanded George wait to watch whatever film he had in mind for you to join him. You desperately needed to shift your focus from your own worries to an unrelated fictional realm. In a hurry, you showered the day from your achy body and slipped into your comfiest nightclothes.  Then you piled up your best blankets on the sofa, using a couple as faux pillows while you and George shared one big, massive quilt, and flipped on the film.

"What'll be tonight then?" You asked, sinking into the cushions at long last.  

"That one my mum won't shut up about. About that couple who gets divorced? WOn a bunch of awards." George muttered, clicking on Netflix. He'd always made it a point to watch the films the public raved over, to find out if the fuss was worth it.

"What if this kick starts our own divorce." You joked, the thought escaping your lips as soon as it passed through your head. Regret might have seeded itself in you if George wasn't so quick to laugh.

"I solemnly swear I will not let a fictional couple's marital issues affect my promise... no, my genuine desire to continue working at being with you for better or for worse."

Where the hell did that come from? You gapped at George as he queued up the film.

"Damn. You're getting good at this whole husband thing." You let out a small, stunned laugh. It made the dull ache in your head hammer. George noticed as you drew a hand to your brow, waiting for the thrum to settle.

"I'm sorry you had another bad day," He whispered.

"Thanks, You softened, knowing he truly empathized.

George lifted his arm and bobbed his head, beckoning you closer. You took the invite to curl into his side with a sigh. He was warm, and comforting, and his bicep was the perfect pillow. You relaxed for the first time in forever, it seemed, closing your eyes in to soak up the calm, quiet evening. The sounds of the film faded as you fell into an accidental nap.

You were jarred awake by a dreadful buzzing coming from the coffee table. George's phone was ringing, and when he twisted too slowly to reach for it, you realized he'd fallen asleep too. You noticed Dean's name flash across the screen as George answered, lackadaisically holding the cell in the hand that wasn't still closely wrapped around you.

"You're on speaker," George warned, as you stayed lethargically content at his side.

"Good! I have a question for both of you." Dean 's voice crackled through the telly. His assumption that you were already wherever George was, made you chuckle.

"Claire and I are staying in that quaint little seaside town, this weekend. Fancy coming along? In fact, it was her idea to invite you both to join us." Dean explained, it sounded as though he was walking through the city, shouts and clangs passing through the call.

You glanced up to George from where your head still rested near his shoulder. Neither of your expressions held signs of disinterest so when George carefully responded to Dean that the idea sounded nice, and asked for more details, you grinned and relaxed back into place.

Dean listed off some more information as George hummed and murmured in response. When the call had ended and new plans were made, George tossed his phone back on the table, and settled deeper into the sofa, shifting the weight of his arm beneath you, but hardly disturbing your peace a bit. The sun was peeking through the cracks of your curtains, and the movie must have been nearly over. You both drifted back asleep without another word, and all seemed well. It must have been.

You and George were closer than ever before- and you had already been classified as inseparable. But you'd hardly gotten to enjoy each other's company since making whatever you had official. Rule number three of this marriage enforced you must take every opportunity to for a bit of fun, as possible. It was time for a small getaway. A peaceful sleep would have to do, till then.

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taglist: @whenthe-smokeisinyoureyes​ @andux @imaginationandlove @velvetgoldsilver @queen-bunnyears @maria-josefin @dearevansamham​ @belledamsceno @nilletellsstories @loulouloueh @visionsofmelodrama @haileymorelikestupid

[ma-gic-gay]

So this is a new one of these and the other one is probably over so yeah

It's a weird Christmas.

It marks a year since anyone last saw Sonny, a year since Julian's death, and a year full of drama, as one would expect.

Michael and Willow had had another child, a girl this time. Her name was Ophelia and Wiley loved being a big brother to her. The pair had also burned their annulment papers when they'd realized she was pregnant and finally admitted their feelings for each other. Watching them together had probably been the highlight of the year for their family.

Sam had started hooking up with Dante much to the chagrin of, well, everyone. It had started as a few random hookups but changed quickly into an actual relationship, testing several familial bonds.

Luckily, that disaster on wheels had been halted when Lulu had woken up from her coma. Lulu and Dante got back together and fell in love, again.

Sasha and Brando had formed a relationship as well, which was quite a surprise at first glance but made sense after a few weeks.

"Carly? You okay?" Jason asks. Surprisingly enough, she hadn't completely broke down yet, or ran away. The furthest she'd ran was the island and even then, it was only a few hours no one knew where she was, since he couldn't teleport and it took that long to get to the island.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just thinking," she responds, faking a smile.

"Tell that to the tears in your eyes and obviously fake smile," he says to her. "What are you thinking about?"

"It's been a year since any of us have heard from Sonny. For all we know, he's dead. Hell, he probably is. I know I should give up and just agree to a funeral, but it feels wrong to do that without a body," Carly sighs, head in her hands in an effort to hide her tears. "It feels wrong for him to not be here. Last Christmas, we were convinced he'd be home by now and now it's like we've all resigned ourselves to him being dead."

"If it doesn't feel right to have a funeral, don't have one. I've known you for a long time, and your instincts are right a lot of the time. Just because Sonny's not confirmed dead doesn't mean he's not," Jason frowns, putting his arm around her and rubbing circles along her back.

Sonny's "death" meant he had to step up in more ways than one. This had marked the year of Jason running the mob, which he'd practically been doing before but was actually doing now. He'd also had to become sort of a surrogate husband to Carly to the point he practically lives there by now. The kids hadn't questioned it; they'd asked a few times if there was anything going on there but after getting a firm no there hadn't been anything else from them in forms of questioning their relationship status. It was what it was and that was the same friendship they'd always had.

There had been times even Danny had questioned why they were at that house so much, to the point he once asked Carly if they were together or not.

You know it's reaching an odd point when a twelve year old is asking if you're in love with your best friend.

Of course, they didn't take into consideration the fact the whole town thought they were together. Again. Everyone had assumed, based off of how much time they'd been spending together- surprisingly more than normal- and the fact that he'd all but moved into the house that they were together.

That was a fun one to realize when he'd gotten shot and everyone had assured her that her boyfriend would be fine.

It just wasn't happening, they were friends. Anything more could complicate it and complicated almost always meant that there would be fights they couldn't go to each other to uncomplicate.

"I know that, but I just don't want to live knowing that there's a chance he could be alive somewhere and he's been kidnapped or forgotten his name or something. It's like I'm stuck in this neverending circle where there's barely any hope but I can't pretend there's none either. Sometimes, I wish that the police would show up with a body and I would have to confirm that yes, he is dead, just so that I could get out of this loop," Carly sobs. "And then I feel terrible for wishing he was dead because I love him, you know, but then at the same time, I can't help but feel like I need closure."

"That's not a bad thing, to need closure. None of us get any closure when it comes to this, Carly. You're not a bad person for wanting some," he reminds her. "You've been grieving for a year a man you don't even know for sure is dead. It doesn't make you bad to want to have something definite."

"But wanting my husband dead? That's dark," she argues with him.

"You want to know if he's dead or alive, something to confirm what's happened to him. I hate to break it to you but you don't qualify as a terrible person," Jason chuckles. "You've never killed someone, never hurt a kid."

"I shot a dude in open court, I almost killed AJ. I've done a lot of questionable things in my life, Jason," Carly fights back.

She's not wrong, persay, but she's not right. "That stuff doesn't make you a bad person. Morally grey? Yes. Bad? No. You do what you think is best and you're impulsive. If something's not going your way, you'll tip the scales. It's just how you are. None of that makes you a bad person. Some people might not like it, but you've never killed someone or hurt a kid, so in my book you're a good person."

Carly's head comes out of her hands for a minute and he smiles, wiping away the tears. "Well you're not a bad person either. You'd never hurt a kid and you only kill in self defense or if the person's really bad and threatening someone you care about. It's not like you wake up and go kill someone for shits and giggles. You mourn the people you kill and feel bad about it. Only a purely horrible person wouldn't feel bad about their murders."

"Neither of us are bad people, let's just agree on that at least."

"Fine," she relents finally. That only took a year. "I miss Sonny. Especially this time of year. Last year, he read Donna and Avery the Grinch and he had the world's worst Grinch voice. I practically begged him to read another book because of how bad it was. But this year, I wish he would be able to read it to them."

"I miss him too," Jason admits. "It's been a hell of a year without him."

"That it has. So much has changed," she agrees with him, shifting her position on the couch so she's lying her head on his lap.

That's probably why the kids thought they were dating.

He plays with her hair as she laughs, remembering some obscure detail about his telling of the Grinch and decorating for Christmas.

Scratch that, this is definitely why everyone thinks they're together.

"Hey Mom, Jason," Joss greets them, coming in from the kitchen. "I'm going to Trina's. Donna's with Ophelia at the Quartermaine's and Avery's with Ava."

"Alright sweetie, have fun," Carly bids her daughter goodbye, sighing. "Why is she so adult now? I mean, I can remember when she was born and it feels like yesterday. Hell, Michael's birth feels like yesterday. And they're both so grown up."

"Time flies when you're having fun," he answers.

"Where'd you get that? A throw pillow or some advice of my mother's?"

"A card someone sent me back when I was in the hospital. Needless to say, that card got tossed in the trash as soon as you'd let me stand up to go to the trash."

"Who the hell sent that to you of all people?"

"No clue. It didn't have a name attached."

"Huh. Well, it's a terrible expression. Too throw pillow. The real answer would be that we're aging, sadly," Carly sighs again, equally as dramatic. "Granted, I still look like I'm 27, but somehow I've aged."

"Age is but a number."

"You sound like a Hallmark card."

"Rude."

"You do!"

"Well, if it makes you feel any better, I'm aging as well. You're not in this whole getting old thing alone. Provided, of course, that you agree to age," he smirks.

"I don't have anything better to do, sadly, so I suppose I'll agree to getting older. But I refuse to have a gray hair."

"Then go to the salon when you notice one and dye your hair."

"I plan on it," the blonde smiles at him before changing the topic. "Do you think we're weird?"

"That came out of nowhere."

"Answer the question."

"No?"

"That sounded like a question."

"Carly, how am I supposed to answer this one? I don't know, maybe?" Jason says, though most of it comes out as a question.

"Well, I mean, think of it. Sonny's been presumed dead for a year. You've been in charge of the business and been there for all of us in more ways than I can count. Seriously, I think Donna sees you as a father," Carly chuckles. "And you've listened to me crying and losing it. Hell, you spent a month and a half at the island just so I wouldn't be alone."

"Hey, you're family. I was happy to do all of those things. Besides, you wouldn't leave my side when I got shot. Or for a very long month after that," he jokes.

"I know but you didn't have to do that. You didn't have to step up and parent the kids. You already had Danny and Scout and the breakup with Sam to deal with, that's a lot at once. Not to mention, taking over the business and grieving Sonny. And dealing with me. All at the same time," she smiles. "Don't get me wrong, I'm grateful, but you had no obligation to do any of that."

"Carly, do you think I'd be here right now if I didn't want to? You know me better than that. I love you and the kids and want to be there for all of you. So far, I've only gotten shot once and that was unrelated, so I'd consider this a pretty good experience."

The blonde scoffs at him and he chuckles. "Not funny. You could've died."

Rolling his eyes, he reminds her, "I didn't."

"Well you're not allowed to get shot for a long time."

"I'll take getting shot off of my to do list."

"Don't you dare joke about this!"

"Alright. Look at me. I'm not going to die anytime soon. I promise. It takes a lot more than a measly bullet to kill me, after all. Not even Russian madmen could do it," he says seriously.

"Good. Because if you do that to me again, I'll have no choice but to resign myself to a life in either prison or Ferncliff," she says half seriously, getting a laugh out of Jason.

It's not entirely unrealistic she'd end up in one of those positions, especially given that it's already happened. Repeatedly.

Maybe there's a sign she should stop doing dangerous things.

Almost as though she's being told to by something inside her, Carly connects her lips with his.

to be continued

why do i get myself into these things smh

[staytiny-angel]

Safe Haven 4/?

Rating: E

Pairings: Drew McIntyre/Becky Lynch, Eventually Drew McIntyre/Becky Lynch/Seth Rollins, Jon Moxley/Renee Young, Sasha Banks/Bayley/Charlotte Flair, Mandy Rose/Trent Seven, Jordan Devlin/Millie McKenzie, Ruby Riott/Liv Morgan

Warnings for this Chapter: mentions of violence

Chapter Summary: Drew and Becky get to know their new mate better while meeting members of his unorthodox family, Plans are made to rescue Roman from Heyman's evil clutches.

Taglist:

@hitory--chan @sethsevolution @finnsauroraborealis @the-beastslayers-queen @pikapuff316 @writinglionqueen @writtingrose

"SETHIE!" Seth hadn't even made it back to town before being tackled by a overly hyperactive blonde girl.

"I missed you too Liv" Seth groaned, slightly out of breath.

"You're lucky I'm here and not Rubes, she's very mad at ya"

Seth grimaced at the thought of seeing his older sister.

"Hey! Redhead!" Liv yelled at Becky. "Is this too basic" she gestured at her hair.

"Um-"

"You're right, too boring" Liv pulled out a compact mirror and smiled at it, Becky and Drew staring in shock as her hair turned bubblegum pink.

"How?" Drew asked Seth.

"Liv's a chaos fairy. Hyper 24/7, pranks everybody. C'mon brat" Liv squealed and hopped onto his back..

"Hey Livvie, Mom conjured my clothes..would you mind?" Seth asked his sister's girlfriend

Drew and Becky watched curiously as the unremarkable clothes Seth's mother had put on him morphed into dark-grey skinny jeans and a blood-red t-shirt.

"Hair too?" the fairy asked

"Yes please."

Seth shook his head and a quarter of it immediately went blond "There ya go Sethie! You look like you again, only bigger!" Liv giggles, patting the wolf on the head.

"Thanks Livvy" Seth grinned. "You're still small though"

"I'm still bigger than Millie!" Liv managed to kick Seth in the hip. "Good luck apologizing to everyone. Trent's mad because you made Tyler cry!"

"Tyler always cries!"

"Okay true, but you also made Mandy upset!"

"How long have you been away from home?" Becky asks

"I haven't lived in Haven in 8 years. I lost contact with everyone 18 months ago." Seth explained

"Dude the only reason we didn't completely lose it was because we still felt you through the pack bond" Liv tells him "We knew you weren't dead but...it was hard, anyway so why are you with the newbies?" Liv asked as they made their way to the main house.

"They're my mates." Seth said simply.

"Oooooh, Sethie's got two mates!" Liv said excitedly. Becky looking at her with caution. "I need to see Sarah, you are making me coffee later!" Liv hugged him and skipped off, Becky and Drew watching her.

"I've only heard of chaos fairies, she was...unique" Becky said.

"I need to remind Ceasero she's not allowed any caffeine" Seth said shaking his head

The three mates walked along the path back to the town in silence after Liv left. None of them really knowing what to say.

"So you guys have had this town for a long time?" Becky finally broke the increasingly uncomfortable tension

"My grandparents founded Haven. Grandfather...used to run a circus and all of the acts were different beings. When he retired, everyone just settled here. Haven was these old fairgrounds and some of the woods surrounding it."

"A Circus?" Drew exclaimed

"Grandfather was a warlock, especially skilled in persuasion and he figured it would be a way for him and his friends to not only use their abilities for profit, but to not have to hide as much. Normies will ignore most Supe shit if they think its a trick"

"Absolutely true, they're dense as hell" Becky replied.

"So, you knew Finn?" Seth asked.

"Sort of, his name was Prince back then, always wondered what happened, not surprised that vampires had something to do with it...when they helped save you. I can't believe I just said that" Becky facepalmed, remembering what Mox and Stephanie had said.

Seth smiled and shook his head "I know Haven is an odd case. Weird even amongst the weird. I mean, I'm the Wolf/Warlock hybrid that claims a Lion, a Witch, a Vampire Queen and a Vampire thats the vessel for a literal demon king for parents. Weird is kinda my thing"

"Do you remember that night?" Becky asked. Seth looked down, toying with his amulet before sitting down.

"A little. I remember being in a car with my mommy and daddy" Seth said in a faraway voice "The was a big flash of light and loud noise, and then I was flying through the woods. I had bite marks on the back of my neck. Knowing now what I know about my bio parents, I think my Mom shifted and was carrying me through the woods by the scruff of my neck."

Becky hesitantly reached over and touched the top of Seth's bowed head. Drew looking on silently. It seemed like his spitfire was already growing attached to the younger man, while Drew himself was more hesitant. Seth lived...by Drew's upbringing, an unnatural life. Haven was a lot to get used to and he'd had Becky to himself for so long.

"Do you think it's possible that your mom changed you?" Drew asked. "To protect you?"

"Could be I don't know" Seth pulled his hair. "I don't like thinking about it"

"Hey brat" A girl said, materializing next to the three. She was holding a coffee cup and had red lowlights and was so pale, Drew thought she could be a vampire.

"Hey, Ruby." Seth said quietly, "Guys this is one of my sisters."

"Yo." The girl greeted them easily and handed her brother the Chicago Bears to-go mug "One Double Chocolate Cappuccino, courtesy of Cesaro. Figured you could use it, heard you haven't had coffee in a year or so."

"No espresso?" Seth groaned.

"You know he puts too much in" Ruby said, "Besides I want to be able to sleep tonight. Your howling was obnoxious" she turned to Drew and Becky. "If either of you hurt my little brother, I will rip out your eyes and shove them down your throats"

"Ruby."

"What it's true. We lost you once, brat. Never again" She replied with a smile

"Did anyone mention that Seth is the baby?" Ruby asked

"Millie is younger then me thank you very much" Seth said rolling his eyes and taking a sip of his drink

"Millie hasn't been missing for 18 months, and gone for 7 and a half years before that. So excuse us if we're all a bit concerned about all this" she says waving a hand at Drew and Becky.

"Excuse me, who's Millie?" Becky asked.

"My baby cousin" Seth replied fondly. "She's my Uncle Shawn's kid"

"She's a fire siren, sneezes out fire like crazy" Ruby added, drinking her coffee.

"She doesn't have much in the way of control yet. So she sets shit on fire a lot...luckily her mate is a water sprite. Jordan is really great st putting out flare-ups" Seth explains "Please don't threaten my mates. Honestly, I'm a hot mess. I doubt they even want to be with me anyway"

"Nonsense" Ruby waved her hand. "Mates are mates always. Do you think I would have gotten with Liv by choice?" Seth chuckled and blushed when Becky smiled at him. " Does anyone know about Ro?" He asked.

Ruby's face fell. "Mom is working on a tracking spell, since you don't remember exactly where Heyman's compound is located. Dad is making her rest before she casts it though so that won't be done until tomorrow, the good this is that Heyman can only do his enslaving curse during the full moon...so we have 6 days to find Ro."

"Fuck" Seth pulled at his hair. "None of this would have happened if I hadn't ran away"

"Stop it" Drew said, gently pulling Seth's hands down.

Drew had sat there quietly listening to the exchange between Seth and his sister, trying to learn more about the odd man the fates had bound him and his firecracker to. From what he'd gathered so far Seth was well-loved by his mismatched pack and had been sorely missed while on his journey of self-discovery.

"Don't beat yourself up. You couldn't have known any of this would happen" Drew says softly, still holding Seth's hands in his larger ones. Seth's brother had been right. Seth did look amazingly...like a slightly smaller version of himself, less so now that part of his hair was platinum blonde.

"He's my big brother" Seth whimpered. "He doesn't even know I'm not mad at him anymore, if Paul's spell works on him, he'll be gone for good" Drew unknowingly wiped away a tear that had trailed down Seth's face.

Becky wrapped her arms around Seth's waist "That isn't going to happen, sweetheart. We are going to get your brother back and Heyman will pay for everything he's done to both of you." She says fiercely. To which Seth nodded but said nothing.

"Forgive me for asking but are you his sister from the witch side or vampire side?" Drew asked Ruby.

"Stephanie and Hunter, can't be around Finn and Violet, my blood is toxic and Bálor hates me" Ruby answered

"I only have one sibling from Finn and Violet and that's Jordan. He's the last of Finn's pre vampiric bloodline. His parents died when he was a baby, and an old woman from his clan brought him to Haven shortly after" Seth tells them.

"Is this the same Jordan that's your cousin's mate?" Becky asked. "Yeah, thought my uncle was gonna kill him, then Finn was gonna kill him" Seth shook his head.

"Haven is completely integrated? " Drew asked, he and Becky hadn't realized just how many different species of Supernatural inhabited the small town.

"Unless they can't be around each other for a physiological reason, yep" Ruby answered "One of our cousins is a sun sprite, and she glows with actual sunlight. So she can't be around Finn and Violet."

"No one gets turned away unless you give our father a reason to" Seth said, "The pack is a family"