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dammitadolfnomorecake · 2 years ago

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**Cultivating Love**42**

Shiro was surprised by Lance’s invitation to bathe with him. He knew not to get his hopes up, especially when both Lance and Keith had seemed better after their talk. Undressing himself, he forced himself not to fuss as Lance struggled to do the same. The fox wrapping a towel around himself before shooting Shiro a look that verged on pride over having been able to accomplish the task himself. Forcing himself again not to appear too keen, he wavered with folding his clothes, before finally following Lance around the screens and into the warmth of the bath.

He didn’t know what to say. Lance and Keith had had months to speak and mend things… a time he was jealous of. He was jealous that Keith could have that special time with Lance, when all he’d done was waver. Sinking into the water, Lance smiled as he leaned back against the edge

“It’s good, isn’t it? Unless you’re lucky, a lot of the water in the demon realm is red. The plant life absorbs the demonic energy, and the sky isn’t blue…”

Lance started strong then his nerves made him waver. Shiro nodded, knowing Lance wouldn’t leap into whatever he wanted to talk about

“I can’t imagine it. The human realm is much like this one. Blue water. Green grass. The sun high in the sky. Though this realm has many more varieties of tea”

“You have to kill the herb in the demon realm then grind it. I think I would have gone mad without a good cup of tea to start my day. Shiro, I owe you an apology. I spoke my feelings with Keith in the room, not allowing you to be utterly honest given he was there. I owe you the same respect. I am sorry that I up and left. I am. The palace rumours were… well, they weren’t they only thing on my mind, but they did not help and…”

Shiro shook his head

“No. If I had been honest with you. I should have been honest with you. I promise upon my very soul, should heaven strike me down if I lie, that I do love you. That it was not a lie”

“I know. I know you do. I had a lot of time to think about it over there. And I mean a lot of time because you know it was two years for me. I shouldn’t have been so angry”

“No. I turned a blind eye to your suffering because I thought it was better. Not so much better but… I did not want you to hate me. I started taking things for granted. I wanted you and you to stay even as I wavered”

“I think I understand. I wore my hair ties as a public sign you were both mine… but also worried that you would leave”

“No. My actions… I hate myself for them. I’m not saying this for sympathy. Things between me and you weren’t the same as me and Keith. I feared hurting you so damn much that it makes me sick that that fear did just that. With you I wanted to be gentle. To show you the love you deserve. I was ashamed that I lost control of my heats. I’ve even hit Keith before because of it. We’d get territorial in bed, our love canceled by the need to breed no matter how much we loved and we understood that. I didn’t want you to feel that way. We’d fight, bite, scratch and kick. You would have accepted it but I couldn’t. I couldn’t imagine doing that to you and you living with that mental scar. That was belittling you. Showing a lack of faith”

Lance scowled at him

“It was. I didn’t remember having sex with Keith. My memories were an utter mess that I didn’t even notice. I remembered nursing you and hating that the world could be so unkind to the man I loved. I didn’t get them back completely until I got my soul fragments back. The mermaids helped open my memory, yet it was all a puzzle with gaps between the pieces. I wish you had told me. I also wish that night had never happened. I wished nothing had changed. You and Keith… I… I took the utmost pride in us… but… but then you never asked for me to come with you. You never let me do anything which you deemed dangerous. I found meaning in other ways but I always envied when you’d leave me behind. I thought it was because I had… I had to stay there. That maybe deep down you thought I could no longer handle myself. That because… that because of that blemish I was weaker. That Keith was more deserving because I was not at your level. Those nights when we’d once sleep together in your bed, me and in the hold of both you and Shiro, they were my everything. They made me feel so safe and loved”

Shiro too had loved it. Sometimes he and Keith would wake before Lance, the pair of them would share a few morning kisses, the watch and wait for Lance to wake

“I loved them too. To hold you in my arms. I could someone other than the me expected of me. You would always bring me tea and scold me for working too hard and I admit sometimes I did simply to tease you, knowing you’d laugh and smile when I pulled you into my hold. I loved that you were able to be so gentle then so accomplished on the battlefield. Fierce and gentle like a storm. Many night we talked all night. We drew plans for battle and teaching plans with such ease. Together we would point out the faults of each other’s plans and I know how competitive you would get”

Lance laughed softly, covering his mouth as he did. Shiro wished he wouldn’t. He loved Lance’s smile. That he could even smile again after it all showed how incredible Lance was

“I cannot be blamed alone. Keith had his moments”

Now Shiro was laughing too. Everyone knew not to give Keith bad news without either of them being present or it may result in smouldering robes in public and a distressed Keith in private

“He did. I remember more than one scroll smouldering due to his temper”

“And even after all this time he is yet to grow out of it. Shiro, I am mad at you. I am mad at me too. I loved you so much I feared it. I mean. I feared losing you. That’s a toxic love. They say obsession is wrong. Yet love is a form of obsession. You hope and pray with all your heart for the happiness of your partner but you are supposed to hope and pray for that happiness together and for the both of you… or the three of us. I wasn’t really jealous before. Not until the rumours made me think. I knew you loved both me and Keith. I knew I couldn’t understand being a wolf because our clan has different traditions and I was loved as a child. I was bullied mercilessly as a child by my siblings. Still, I never faced the pain Keith did. I never was human to begin with. Keith needed the extra support and we both gave him all the love we could. He’s such a good man and that is because you pulled him out of the darkness”

Shiro didn’t deserve Lance’s kind words. He was supposed to be the more mature one, yet Lance was leaps and bounds ahead of him there. Lance shone so bright that the moon and stars would surely be jealous of him. Still…

“You did more than you give yourself credit for. Declaring Keith your rival annoyed him enough to work all that harder. I did use to worry that you two would never see eye to eye”

“I was petty and jealous. Keith is a rare soul, so talented and so unsure. I would get so mad when Iverson would compare us. I wanted him close and I wanted him gone. I very much would like to go back 30 or so years and hit myself for some of the things I did. I still regret that. Being a snotty brat. I regret so much, Shiro. So much between us and him. To have hurt you both… and to have not confronted you. It’s closer to three years that we were apart. I thought of you often but… it would confuse me and I would get quite mad. I forced things to change and made it so we couldn’t go back. I’ve told Keith over and over, I am to blame for my part in it and I am not oblivious to your pain. I also hear that I owe you thanks for looking after me. I’m sorry I cannot remember”

Lance hung his head, Shiro turning in the water before cupping his face in his hands

“Lance, I can never apologise enough. I can only do my part to make things right. You’ve always had a gentle heart and spirit, and you are a good man. I love you. That is no lie. To me you and Keith are utterly irreplaceable. Our memories… I will always treasure them. I will. So even if we cannot go back to what we were once, we can build something anew. Nothing would make me happier than to see you smile again”

Shiro didn’t expect his words to have an immediate affect as Lance smiled at him, explaining

“I was told that earlier by Keith. You and he have punished yourselves more than enough. We are all sorry and we all hurt. As I told him, I will support your decision. I do love you, my feelings simply did not die no matter how much time had passed… but I do not think I can be with you. Not to be cruel or to punish you. By my nature I am devious and mischievous, but I’m not about to toy with you. When I look in my own heart… I… I sincerely wish you the best in the world but I don’t think I love you how I did and I hate myself for it so much. It hurts, Shiro. It hurts so much and I am so tired…”

Gathering Lance against him, Lance’s hands were flat against his chest as he cried softly. Lance had been so courageous in his honesty

“I love you and I was blessed by the heavens to have you. Even if only for such little time. You should be with Keith, if that is what your heart desires. I’m the one who…”

“No. No. I don’t want to be with him because you say. I want him to find his happiness and I am…”

“You’re amazing. The most amazing mate I could have never of dream of after Adam… When this is done, I think I will wait for him again. I should not have been tempted by the past but I was. Adam is very much a part of me, like you and Keith always will be”

“I refuse to accept this as it is. I’m a horrible mate who caused you so much pain”

“No. I loved you too much and failed to show you. I kept your soul with me because I wanted you with me forever. I would have had to tell you if I left for Adam and it scared me to know it would hurt you. I am a coward”

“And I am not?”

“Then I guess we both are. By heavens, I wish I could take your pain. I wish I could make you the happiest man in the realm”

“You did… you did, Shiro. I loved you. I loved when you and Keith would get competitive for my hand. I loved when I could beat Keith to win you a prize at the lotus festival. I loved how you fell asleep in my arms. This great master called a prodigy of our times. If only I had kept my mouth shut”

Shiro shook his head as he pulled Lance as close as possible

“No. You would not have been happy. I much prefer your honesty, love. I will do all I can to support you too, as you support this coward of a man”

Lance sniffled hard. He was shaking like a leaf in Shiro’s hold and Shiro could feel how exhausted Lance was

“You’re not a coward. You kept the times I lost temper at you knowing that my memory was affected for my sake. I vaguely remember we fought and fought. I vaguely remember I said some cruel and horrible things. I need to apologise for that. For lashing out because of my frustrations. I was horrible in wake of what happened. I wish I had known that I hurt you sooner too”

“Idiot. What soldier wounded does not have crass words for their feelings of failure?”

Lance let out a wail, completely defenceless in his hold. If he had been any weaker he would have kissed Lance, smothered him in love and undone all the talking they’d done

“I loved you. I loved you so much”

“I know. I know and you are not to blame”

“I want to still love you”

“I know you do. Lance, I am proud of you. I am proud of you having the strength to survive in that realm. I am proud that you have come home”

“Even if I did horrible things to do so? Even if I allowed people to die?”

“No commander wants to sacrifice his men. You kept going to be sure to see this to an end. I’m sure you gave them every bit of fierceness you had”

“I tried. The demon realm is amazing. They have this thing called television… but that doesn’t matter now”

“On the contrary, I would like to hear more”

“Are you sure? You may not like what you hear from me”

“Lance, I can assure you, I want to know. Please tell me what those years were for you and all that the demon realm holds in the way of wonders”

Out of nowhere Lance leaned back a little, then his lips were finding Shiro’s. The kiss a little too deep for parting lovers and Lance’s cheeks were red as they parted, his gaze dropping as he looked remorseful

“I’m sorry…”

“Do not be…”

“I… I don’t know why I did that…”

“Lance…”

“I know I should not… I know and yet… Shiro, can you forgive me?”

“Lance, I will always forgive you”

Sensing what Lance was also feeling, he wasn’t surprised this time when Lance’s lips met his, his left hand gripping Shiro’s hair as the kiss turned deeper, Shiro as eager to respond. A parting of lovers always came with measures of regret. This was their regret. The times he should have been there and the times he should have showed Lance more physical love. And this was Lance’s so clumsy and desperate way to show him just how loved he’d been.

Lance had talked himself to sleep, with the help of a little magic from Shiro. The demon realm had sounded as if made of dreams. Things called cars that were faster than horses and inorganic. Talking picture boxes that you could change the picture and story on. Electrical things you could plug in to create fire and cook. Shiro knew all realms advanced and Keith, and Krolia, had told him of many things that seemed impossible, but neither of were Lance. He’d given Lance his full attentions, Lance in turn had patiently explained things repeatedly between breathy pants. The thing called a television seemed heavenly. The idea sitting down and watching a show to clear the mind sounded like a luxury he could happily go for.

Drying Lance done, Shiro skipped redressing him entirely. He’d been sure to carefully knock Lance out so he’d sleep long enough to rest properly. Lance had been fighting falling asleep for his sake, but his health was still precarious to be pushing himself too hard towards the end. Shiro could feel the difference in Lance’s soul with the absence of that piece of Allura. He was weaker than he’d let on, probably more fatigued and plagued with a general feeling of illness, yet it wasn’t as bad as it could have been. There were gaps, but those were showing the barest of signs that were indeed filling, like the raised dirt of a mushroom soon to slowly push its way towards the heavens. Trace amounts of Shiro’s own soul lingered within from the time he spent carrying the fragments, which would be pushed out slowly over time once Lance had healed enough.

Carrying Lance to Keith’s room, Keith was lying on his bedding, his adopted wolf pup happily sleeping slayed across the bed beside him on his back. Raising his gaze, Keith sat up as he noticed Shiro watching

“Is he okay? What happened?”

Trust Keith to panic. The expression on his face was filled with worry. Lance, on the other hand, was completely out to it all. Snoring lightly in Shiro’s arms

“He fell asleep. He tried to fight it, but he needs his rest. I may have helped him a long a little. Do you know if he’d prefer to sleep in his own room or Hunk’s?”

Keith saw right through him. They both wanted to watch over Lance, but both knew they shouldn’t. Though, after his talk with Lance, what Shiro actually wanted was to not be alone

“You didn’t bring him here to really ask me that. We both know Lance would sleep alone than with us right now. Take him to his room and let him sleep”

“Alright. I will get him settled then…”

The moment between them turned awkward, Shiro backing out the door, careful not to knock Lance out. With a heavy sigh, Keith scooped up his wolf pup and rose to his feet

“Wait. I’ll help you. This may be the royal palace, but they couldn’t even manage something better than bean filled pillows. You hold him and I’ll organise his bed. I’m not taking the blame should he sleep wrong and wake with a stiff neck. I don’t he will be pleased with you for making him fall asleep”

“Unlike him I lack his talent for singing. He needs his rest. His eyes were sliding closed and he was trying to fight it, so it only took the barest of manipulations for him to drift off. He should have to worry over nightmares tonight”

A flicker passed over Keith’s face, Keith then slipping past him to take the lead to Lance’s room

“He’s been having nightmares?”

Shiro had misspoken, now Keith thought Lance was keeping it from him

“Not that he mentioned. He said they happened in the demon realm a fair bit to begin with. Are you mad that he and I talked?”

Sighing, Keith shook his head, yet didn’t turn to look at him as he let himself into Lance’s room

“No. I told him that you both should and that it was important that he made himself clear. Did he ask you about Red?”

Why would Lance him about Red when Red belonged to Lance and Keith? Was it because Lance had surrendered Blue to Allura, who’d come straight to him in a panic

“No, was he meant to?”

“He said knowing you, you’d have brought our weapons and we need to retrieve them as soon as possible. I did say I would talk to you, yet it was left without clarity. He said to take Pidge for the distraction”

Lance really was one of the smartest men Shiro had ever met

“He’s correct. They are outside the palace gates and well hidden. I’ll go tonight under the cover of rain. Though… I’m not sure I want you to handle Red”

Keith began fussing with Lance’s bedding, Shiro watching rather than focusing on the warm comforting weight of Lance in his arms. He had to let him go… Lance wanted him to let him go

“I won’t be. Lance is passing Blue to Allura and will take Red as his sole weapon. He asked me about how I was able to pass Red to his ownership, but as I gifted it to him I had not thought of it. We’d better get him settled, then leave him for the night. You do understand we no longer have the right to force sleep upon him”

“I do, but he was already mostly asleep. He simply needed that little push and he was too stubborn to give in. Think of this as my way of singing him to sleep the way he did for us when we refused rest. His soul might be better than it was, yet it will take a long time to reform completely”

Keith’s head whipped up, his brow drawn

“You looked at his soul?!”

“I did?”

“He didn’t want us doing that. He told me that… Did even you think of asking his permission?!”

Shiro could see why Keith was angry… Trying to explain

“No. I did not. I see…”

Instead, Keith snapped at him

“No you don’t. If you did you wouldn’t be acting this way”

Shiro left snapping back in a yelled whisper. Lance would not wake yet he still didn’t feel right raising his voice

“Then how am I supposed to act? I don’t want to lose him yet he’s told me to let him go. I cannot shut my feelings off…”

“It wouldn’t be the first time you did. We don’t have the right to pry deeper than the surface without his permission. He’s wrecked himself with guilt over us and he asks for this one thing. Do not do it again or I will hit you myself in his stead. Lance will tell us in his own time in his own way, and no, he will not hold his tongue on this as he has given me his word. Now bring him over, he needs rest and we need distance. Our selfishness is what caused all of this”

Keith’s words felt like bitter medicine as Shiro found himself swallowing. Keith had certainly stepped up, now acting as if he were Lance’s legal guardian instead of his ex mate. It was Keith’s way of showing how unalright he felt over the situation and Shiro had to admit he did deserve the scolding

“You are right. If I am not back by morning light, Allura knows the place in which I have placed your weapons. If she cannot create a pocket realm for them, you will need to, lest the elders take them”

“I’ll keep that in mind. I have a fair idea now how to do it, Lance created one at his home to speak to me honestly. Not that I heeded his words”

Lying Lance down with care, Shiro moved Lance’s legs as Keith manoeuvred his head

“Keith. Lance told me of his time and there and of yours. I wish to apologise. I know I apologised when we spoke, and I will continue to in the future, yet as I told Lance, I swear that I do love you. Please keep watching over him. If you choose him, I will support the both of you”

“Don’t go saying things such as that now. My head is enough of a mess”

“I need to. It has stuck in my mind what Lance told me, that he does not want to die with the regret of not saying the things that should have been. I love you deeply and I love him deeply. I was a bad mate to the both of you and intoxicating fed my silly pride. You are more loved than there are grains of rice in all the realm. By him and by me. Choose for yourself what you truly wish and I will assist you. Whether it be this life or the next, I hope that no matter the outcome we will find each other again. Even as friends your happiness is my happiness”

“Don’t preach at me as if you won’t return. I’m not letting you off that easily. If you do not return I will not be held accountable for my actions. Keep this in mind”

Turning, Shiro knelt before Keith, taking his hand and kissing the back of it. Keith’s expression utterly confused

“I swear I will be back as soon as possible. And I swear that I am sorry. I’ll take my leave now”

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theladyofdeath · 4 years ago

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The Ranch {6}

An A Court of Thorns and Roses, Nesta x Cassian, Modern AU, fanfiction.

Collaboration: @throne-of-ashes-and-beauty x @tacmc

Summary: Nesta had spent years in Paris, living her dream and drowning in riches as a gourmet chef, capturing the hearts of the city and its people. But, after her father passes away unexpectedly and leaves his cozy, countryside B&B to his oldest daughter, Nesta is moving back home to the tiny town of Velaris, where the ranch, her sisters, and her father’s unfulfilled dream, awaits.

Sidenote: Being posted between two blogs, it is too chaotic to keep up with a tags list, so all chapters will be tagged with “#TheRanchNessian” & “#SharaCollab”.

A/N: The fact that you all love this so much makes me so happy - bc it’s my favorite thing shelb and i have EVER written. Let us know what you think! x

The Ranch Masterlist

When Nesta received Feyre’s texts to go out for drinks, rather than coffee, she’d be lying if she said she didn’t hesitate for a minute. But she and Feyre really had made progress during their family dinner, enough that she’d even hugged Nesta on the way out. So she’d replied that drinks sounded great, and Feyre sent her an address and a time.

Now, as Nesta got out of her car, she scanned the surroundings of the small dive bar she was at. She didn’t recognize a single vehicle, but knew that wasn’t likely. The air was thick, so close to the Sidra, but the breeze cooled whatever heat was present before it could settle on her skin.

She felt ridiculous for being nervous, but she couldn’t control herself. Those nerves crept into the pit of her stomach, making her rethink everything as she slowly stepped toward the entrance. The door creaked as she pulled it open, and music had been blaring before she’d even stepped inside.

Spotting Feyre, seated at the bar, right away, Nesta pushed through the small crowd of people. Planting herself on the barstool right next to her littlest sister, Nesta called for a drink.

Feyre grinned, then said above the music, “I’m glad you found it! I assume you’ve never been here.”

She was right, Nesta hadn’t, but it definitely had a certain charm to it. “It’s cute!”

Feyre gestured behind Nesta, to where the music was coming from. “I come for the entertainment!”

Nesta looked over her shoulder and found herself surprised, although she probably shouldn’t have been. Feyre had mentioned that Rhysand was a musician, which is who owned the soothing, melodic voice that filled the bar. What really surprised Nesta, though, was the guitar player behind Rhysand, strumming away.

Cassian had already spotted Nesta, and he was watching her with narrowed, amused hazel eyes.

“I didn’t know Cassian played guitar,” Nesta said, turning back to her sister.

“I think there’s a lot of things you don’t know about him that will surprise you,” Feyre said, a secret smile on her face.

Nesta wanted to turn back around to look at the man strumming the guitar on stage, but she wouldn’t let herself. She was in awe of him, every time she turned around he was doing something else extraordinary.

Nesta sipped the glass that the bartender set down in front of her and asked, “Is Az hiding somewhere up there, too?”

Feyre chuckled and said, “No, Azriel plays a different type of music.” When Nesta looked at her with a raised eyebrow, waiting for an explanation. “You’ll have to ask him.”

Nesta groaned. “What is up with you all and secrets?”

Feyre shrugged and put her bottle to her mouth, but it was so utterly obvious how amused she was - how amused they all were - with their little secrets.

“How have things been between you two?” Feyre asked. “Since the other night.”

Nesta didn’t have to ask who the other half of you two was. But, she had nothing to hide. Everything had been simple since Nesta apologized...and completely freaked out in front of Cassian the few nights before. They had been polite toward one another, had made conversation and joked around when they crossed paths. And, the morning before, Nesta had a mini lesson in ranching from the rancher himself. If she was going to be around for a while, she may as well pick up on a few basic things so she could help out when possible.

“It’s been good,” she answered, finally.

Feyre raised a perfectly sculpted brow as she set her bottle back on the bar top. “That’s all I get? It’s been good? Last time I was creeping on you two out of the kitchen window, you two idiots were grinning like fools.”

Nesta’s eyes narrowed. “Did you just call me an idiot?”

Feyre’s eyes rolled. “I’m just saying, you two were actually being friendly.”

Friendly.

Nesta guessed that was the best way to describe what she and Cassian had been the past couple of days. She glanced over her shoulder, back to the stage, only to find those hazel still on her.

“We’ve got a table down front,” Feyre said, flagging down the bartender. “Let’s get another drink and move down there.”

Nesta ordered her drink and as Feyre ordered two beers for her and Rhys, she had an idea. “Excuse me,” she said, catching the bartender before he moved to make their drinks. “But you wouldn’t happen to have a maple bourbon back there, would you?”

By the time Rhysand had finished his set list, Cassian was sweaty, tipsy, and wound up tighter than a rattlesnake ready to strike. Rhys hadn’t told him Feyre was bringing a guest. He definitely didn’t mention Nesta was coming, so he was pretty sure Feyre had set this one up without telling him. And from the look on Nesta’s face when she turned and saw him, he’d have guessed she didn’t know he’d be here either.

He wasn’t disappointed, just caught off guard.

He had watched her as he played, while Rhysand sang, and every time their eyes connected, she had quickly looked away and found the contents in her glass overly interesting.

Now, as they both meandered off the stage, he decided he could definitely use another drink.

The last time he and Nesta had been in a bar, with alcohol, the night hadn’t turned out all that well.

Rhys had gone straight to Feyre, as he always did, lifting her into the air and kissing her. He did it for a few reasons, the most obvious because he loved her and the two of them could be barely be apart for more than ten minutes before one of them began whining about missing the other. But the other reason was the group of ogling women who always seemed to show up for Rhys’ set. He wanted them to know that he belonged to someone else.

It didn’t stop them from trying.

Cass’ boots thumped down the wooden steps and made his way to the bar. He didn’t even have to ask for anything, the bartender already knowing his go to drinks, depending on his mood. A cold bottle of beer and a shot of whiskey appeared in front of him. He gave the bartender a wink and tossed back the shot. After grabbing the bottle off the bar, he began to make his way, begrudgingly, to the others.

He reminded himself to think before he spoke, reminded himself not to admire how sexy Nesta looked in her jeans and tank top, reminded himself to keep his distance. Things had only just become okay between the two of them, he wouldn’t mess it up.

Feyre was sitting on Rhysand’s lap and whispering something into his ear when Cassian got back to the table. Nesta was already watching him as he took a seat next to her.

“Are they always like this?” she muttered.

Cassian grinned, putting his bottle to his lips. “Annoyingly so, yes.”

The silence between them wasn’t a true silence, not with the music and chatter and laughter around them. But the space between them was…awkward.

Nesta cleared her throat. “I didn’t know you played guitar.”

There were about a hundred and one ways he’d like to answer her question, but instead, he gave her a polite smile, and said, “There’s a lot you don’t know about me.”

He couldn’t read the look in her eyes as she took a sip of her drink and said, “You’re really good.”

“Thanks,” he muttered, nodding, and he continued to nod as the silence came, once again, because he had no idea what else to say.

Feyre was sticking her tongue down Rhysand’s throat.

Nesta, following his gaze, scrunched her nose, and Cassian couldn’t help but laugh. “Do you dance?”

Nesta hesitated.

“I’ll keep my hands in appropriate places,” he promised.

Nesta’s hesitation turned into a small smile as she said, “Alright. Why the hell not?”

Anything was better, Cassian assumed, than watching Feyre and Rhysand makeout for the next ten minutes. Cassian pushed his chair back and held out his hand. After another second of hesitation, she put her hand into his.

He led her out into the small dance floor, the song that was playing through the jukebox ending up and a slower song began. He once again held out his hand and she moved in closer, placing her hand in his and letting the other rest on his shoulder. His arm snaked around to the small of her back and at her sudden intake of breath, he moved it up slightly.

“Sorry,” he said, as they began to move in small circles.

Nesta huffed a laugh. “It’s okay. I don’t- I haven’t- it’s...been a while since I’ve danced. With a man.”

Cassian came to the ultimate conclusion that it had been a while since she’d done anything with a man.

“Too busy being a badass boss the last few years?” he asked, trying to keep the conversation light.

“Something like that,” she said, eyes bright. “What about you? Do you ask women to dance often?”

Cassian liked to think there was a little bit of jealousy in her voice, when, in reality, it was most likely nothing more than a curious question. “No, not really. Usually, by now, I’m drunk off my ass, sitting next to Rhysand and Feyre while they make a public love scene. Unless Azriel and Elain are here, of course. Then, I’m sitting in the middle of both couples while one makes out, and the other stares into each other’s eyes with such adoration that I literally am tempted to set myself on fire.”

Nesta’s laugh was bright and beautiful as she shook her head. The sound of her laughter alone made Cassian want to grab her face into his hands and press his mouth against hers. Shaking the thought away, he cleared his throat and continued to spin her in slow, gentle circles.

“I’ve never seen two people that are so…” Nesta let the sentence fall away, and Cassian tried to help her finish it.

“In love?” He asked.

Her eyes fell back on him as she said, “Happy.”

He didn’t know why that made his heart ache as badly as it did. “You haven’t told me what it was like when you were younger. Why exactly you wanted to leave.” When she looked down, when he felt her tense up, he added, “You don’t have to tell me now. You don’t have to tell me ever. I just…” He sighed. “I want you to know that I’m not just a pretty face, with a ripped body, and a badass bond with animals. You can talk to me, about anything you need to.”

She started laughing again, which was his main goal. But there was also a light shining in her eyes, and he decided right then that he would do anything to keep it there.

————

The next morning, Nesta was in the kitchen of the main house just after sunrise. She couldn’t sleep, especially once she had planned out her agenda before she went to bed the night before. She would work on landscaping, planting flowers and cleaning off the B&B sign out front. She also wanted to put in a front porch swing. She was hoping Cassian would help her with that part, although he had been working on the new stables lately.

First thing first, though, was breakfast. Nesta loved any excuse to try out the new kitchen, even if it was technically meant to be for preparing food for guests. Although, until the grand opening and guests began to come again, Nesta would take full advantage of it, cooking for herself. And, maybe, the ranch hand.

She hadn’t seen him yet that morning, even having awoken so early.

It occurred to her that she didn’t know what he liked, whether he was a fan of sweet or savory, how he liked his eggs. Then she remembered that he could loosely be described as a human garbage disposal and would probably eat anything that was put in front of him.

She threw together a few breakfast sandwiches, poured a fresh cup of coffee in her travel mug, and set out for the front yard.

The sun had been up for nearly a full hour and Nesta had a pile of weeds in the grass and dirt caked under her nails when she finally heard footsteps through the pasture. But they weren’t the heavy steps she was used to hearing from Cassian. No, these footsteps were light and quick.

And they were coming right for her.

She turned just in time for Beau to barrel into her and knock her from where she was perched on her knees.

She laughed as the over-excitable puppy licked her and nuzzled into her neck. She scratched behind his ears.

“Good morning, boy.”

He licked her face in response, tail wagging wildly.

“Alright, alright,” a deep voice said, coming up beside them, “Down, boy.”

Beau did as he was instructed, hurrying to Cassian’s feet and sitting. Cassian held out a hand, which Nesta humbly accepted. After she was pulled to her feet, she chuckled. “No offense, but you look like shit.”

He did, too. Cassian looked completely exhausted, eyes heavy, skin pale. “Oh, I’m offended.”

“How many times did you puke this morning?” Nesta asked, trying not to grin.

Cassian groaned, then yawned. “Serves me right. I know better than to drink that much before an early morning.”

“Isn’t every morning an early morning for you?” Nesta asked, and it was obvious how amused she was. “And I’m pretty sure I’ve seen you highly intoxicated on more than one occasion.”

Cassian reached out and shoved her gently in the shoulder. “Be nice.”

Nesta laughed, shaking her head as she picked her travel mug off the ground. “Here, coffee.”

He sniffed it before putting it to his mouth as if he didn’t quite believe her. He took a drink and sighed. “How did you know I like my coffee black?”

Nesta shrugged. “Lucky guess. Are you hungry?”

He glanced at his watch. “No, but I know I need to eat, or I’ll be puking all over the western pasture later. But I need to head into town and pick up a few things. I don’t have time to cook. I’ve wasted enough time this morning with my head in the toilet.”

“Bacon or sausage?” Nesta asked, walking to the picnic basket beneath the tree. “Or both?”

“Both?” Cassian asked, not trying to hide the suspicion in his voice.

She reached into the basket and pulled out two sandwiches. “I hope you don’t mind, but I didn’t feel like waiting to eat.”

Cassian took the two sandwiches she held in her outstretched hand. “You...made me breakfast?”

Nesta nodded, not expecting the soft tone of his voice, the sincere surprise he felt at having someone do something for him. “You said you’re going into town? Any chance you need to stop at the hardware store? I was hoping to pick out some paint colors and maybe even start on the flower beds since it’s so nice out.”

“I can,” Cassian said, opening the wrapped sandwich and taking a bite. He looked impressed. “Fuck, that’s good.”

Nesta snorted. “Why is everyone so surprised after they take the first bite of something I make? Feyre nearly kissed me after I cooked her a simple pasta dish.”

Cassian grinned, taking another bite. “Maybe we’re just surprised something so delicious could come from someone so…”

“Perfect and polite?” Nesta implied.

He laughed, quietly, as he swallowed. “Yeah, sure, perfect and polite. My words, exactly.”

Now it was his turn to be shoved.

“I’ll pull the truck around,” Cassian said, walking away, backwards as he grinned at Nesta. “Come on, Beau.”

The pup jumped up from the spot where he was sprawled out on top of the soft green grass and followed Cassian around the side of the house. Nesta brushed away the sweat that was glistening on her forehead with the back of her hand. She suddenly wondered what she looked like. She rolled out of bed, brushed her teeth, put her hair in a pony-tail before slipping on shorts and a tank-top, and hauled ass out of the little house out back. But then, she felt ridiculous. She wasn’t trying to impress him, anyway.

She remembered the makeup and hair products she’d left in the master bath when she was getting ready to go out. The same night she’d seen Cassian in nothing more than a little blue towel. The same night she and Cassian had nearly…

She shook her head and ran up the porch stairs and into the house, wondering how long she had before he made his way back up to the main house.

———

Cassian stopped the old truck in front of the house, cutting the engine and silencing the deafening roar of the idle.

Nesta was nowhere to be seen. The picnic basket was still under the tree and her cup of coffee was on the porch rail where it’d been when he walked up.

“Nesta?” He called, looking towards her house, down the dirt road.

When there was no answer, he climbed the porch steps two at a time and opened the front door. He said her name again and waited. “Nesta?”

No answer, but there was a creak from the second story.

With a sigh, he took to the stairs. “If you’re upstairs, please be decent, because I don’t need you yelling at me again for being inappropriate!”

Nothing.

On the second floor landing, Cassian thumped down the hallway, glancing into her old bedroom as he passed. She wasn’t there, so he continued on, where the light was coming out of the master bedroom.

He knocked on the door, even though it was wide open. “Nesta?”

“Sorry!” she called, from the bathroom. The door was cracked, and he could see her shadow moving across the tile. “I’ll be right out!”

“You okay?” He asked, not quite moving away from the door to give her privacy, but still half worried about her. She sounded...frantic.

“Yeah, I just...need a minute.” She didn’t offer any other information.

He gave a couple of light raps on the door. “Alright, well, I’ll be in the truck. Lock up on your way out, yeah?”

She poked her head out and he could see that a chunky braid held most of her hair off her face. “I can handle it,” she laughed.

He looked at the makeup covering her freckles. “Are you putting makeup on to work in the yard?

A look of guilt crossed her face. “Maybe.” He tried not to smile, but clearly, he failed as she said, “I’m liable to run into people I haven’t seen in ten years! I can’t go out looking like this.”

“Like what?” He chuckled. “Beautiful?”

The words hung in the air around them.

Cass mumbled, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to- Fuck.”

But Nesta was smiling, softly. “It’s okay. I can take a compliment from time to time.” She trailed back into the bathroom, out of sight. “Just don’t make a habit of it.”

Cassian chuckled. “Alright. Well, take your time. I’ll be with Beau in the truck.”

She said nothing else as Cassian made his way back out of the house. The word had slipped out. Beautiful. He couldn’t help it, though. She was beautiful. It was his first thought when he’d come up on her, knees in the dirt, pulling out weeds, sweating, her hair up.

Beautiful.

Natural.

Sure, she was sexy as hell all dolled up, but Cassian liked her that way. Natural. Even so, he had to keep such thoughts to himself. He couldn’t risk anything that would piss her off again, especially when they had begun to get along so well.

Had started to become friends.

Less than five minutes later, Nesta was pulling the door shut behind her and rounding the truck to the passenger side. She pulled the door open to find Beau sitting in the seat.

Cassian whistled, which usually would spur the pup into motion, but instead he looked back at her and whined, before looking back at Cass. “I’m not making you get out, you big dummy. I just need you to scoot over.” He sighed and pulled the dog onto the middle seat, and Nesta hopped up into the cab. Beau laid down and rested his head on her leg, his whiskers tickling her skin where it skimmed her thigh. She gently pet his soft head and smiled.

“Not taking the fancy truck today?” She asked, after they’d pulled off of the property and were headed into town. The windows were rolled down and the brisk morning air felt amazing on her face.

“We’re working today. This,” he said, affectionately patting the dash, “is a working truck. That’s a play truck. We can’t drive that today.”

Nesta blinked. “A play truck?”

“Yeah,” he said. “Work and play stay separate. Besides, I can’t get my play truck all muddy and shit.”

Nesta huffed a laugh and shook her head. “You’re so weird.”

“I’m not the one who put on makeup to do yard work,” Cassian muttered.

Nesta was watching him, eyes narrowed. “At least Beau is on my side. Aren’t you, boy?”

Beau’s tail started wagging, hitting Cassian against his thigh. Nesta laughed, rubbing Beau’s belly.

“Well,” Cassian sighed, “at least we had a good run, Beau. I see you’ve found a new favorite.”

As if he was confirming what was just said, Beau began to lick Nesta’s leg.

She pet his head and he stopped, looking up at her. His tongue was hanging out of the side of his mouth and Nesta couldn’t help but lean down and give him a kiss on the top of his head. She caught Cassian watching her when she looked back over. “Confession time,” she announced.

Cassian’s brows were raised. “Okay?”

She sighed. “I love dogs, but they’re just...messy.”

“Messy?” He asked.

“Yes, messy. They slobber, like to play in mud, which they then track into the house. Dogs are...a handful.”

He looked at her and then back out the windshield. “Oh gods, no. Don’t tell me.” Nesta glanced at him and he took a deep breath. “Nesta, are you a cat person?”

She burst out laughing and Beau, startled, sat up and leaned on Cassian across the cab. “And if I am?”

Cassian shook his head and groaned. “That’s it. That’s the deal breaker. I don’t think I can work for you anymore.”

Nesta laughed, reaching out to Beau to scratch his head. “You don’t like cats?”

“Cats don’t like me,” he corrected, remembering when Azriel’s childhood cat jumped on Cassian and attacked his face. After that experience… Cassian had to admit that cats weren’t his favorite.

“Maybe I’ll have to get one,” Nesta said.

Cassian glanced at her through his side eye.

“What?” She asked, smiling. “It’ll stay in my little house and keep the mice away from the B&B.”

“And make a nice snack for this one,” he said, indicating the pup who had resumed his dozing between them as Nesta scratched behind his ears.

“Oh hush, he wouldn’t,” Nesta said, giving him a belly rub. He rolled over and kicked Cassian very close to where it would have hurt.

“Oh, he absolutely would,” Cass said, adjusting himself as they pulled up to a red light. “Cats and dogs, especially the ones like Beau who are bred to still be a little wild, didn’t get their bickering reputation for no reason.”

Even though it was still relatively early, only a few minutes after seven, the city was awake, alive. People walked down the streets, stopping at the stalls and shops that were open this early along the way. The breeze from the Sidra cooled the morning down, but she knew eventually it would heat up.

People called out to Cassian, who’s window was rolled down the whole ride, from everywhere they could: in other cars, on the sidewalks, coming and going from store fronts.

“You know everyone,” Nesta observed.

Cassian waved to an older couple who’d been entering a cafe when they saw him. “I wouldn’t say that I know everyone.”

“Well, it seems like everyone knows you.”

“I get around,” he said, shrugging.

Nesta gave him a look.

Cassian laughed. “Not like that. I’ve waved at at least five elderly women, if I meant sexually, my taste in women is interesting, to say the least.”

“No judgement,” Nesta muttered, and Cassian grinned as he pulled into the parking lot of the hardware store.

“Alright,” he said, pulling into a spot and putting the truck into park. He hopped out and whistled for Beau to follow.

“They let him in?” Nesta asked, following his lead.

“Oh yeah,” Cassian said, hands in his pockets. “He stays close. Most shop owners around here like him more than me.”

Nesta looked over at him as they entered. “Is that so?”

Cassian shrugged. “Went through a shoplifting phase in high school. Some people never forget.”

Nesta rolled her eyes.

They entered the store and Cassian said, “I have to go over to the pro desk, pick up some plans they were drawing up for me. I assume you’re going to be doing some actual shopping?”

“Mostly looking, but certainly not at the pro desk,” she said, laughing. “Do you just want to call me when you’re done?”

He said, “I would do that, but I don’t have your number. I can page you over the loudspeaker like you’re a misbehaving child?”

Nesta rolled her eyes and said, “Give me your phone, you idiot.”

Cassian laughed and handed it over. She input her name and number in his phone and then handed it back after calling herself. When her phone went off in her hand, he took it before she could end the call.

“Hey, that one is mine,” she said, laughing.

“I can’t input my own contact details?” He winked at her, and continued typing. He locked the phone and handed it back as he started walking backwards. “I’ll call you when it’s time to go. Beau!” He whistled and the pup ran right to him, looking up in pure adoration as they headed to the other end of the store.

Nesta made her way to the paint section and looked at the wall of samples. She wanted something light, but something that stuck out, too. The shutters needed a good coat, but Nesta was trying to keep away from the mustard yellow her father had picked out in the late eighties. It was horrid. And she needed something to repaint the B&B sign, which was worn and chipped. Maybe she would paint the front door, too. She may as well, if she was planning on painting the rest.

She gathered multiple shades of blues and reds and yellows before she heard, “Nesta?”

She spun around and froze, unable to form a single thought as Tomas Mandray grinned.

“Shit, it is you,” he laughed, and he gave her a hug, although she was too frozen in place to react. She hadn’t seen him in a few years, but he had been her whole world.

“I didn’t know you were back in town,” he said, standing in the way of the aisle next to her. “Sorry to hear about your dad.”

“Thanks,” she said, finally remembering how to use her words. “And yeah, it was somewhat sudden.”

He plucked one of the paint chips from her hand and held it up, comparing it to what Nesta didn’t know. “Last I knew you were in,” he paused, humming. “Paris? How’s your restaurant doing?”

“Sold it to move home.” She felt like the walls were closing in around her, felt like she was too hot and too cold all at once. She felt like her skin was too tight. She needed to get away, needed to get outside and get some fresh air or she was sure she was going to pass out. “If you’ll excuse me-.”

“I miss your cooking, Nes. I miss you.” He smiled, and though it was handsome, it made her stomach turn. “You should make me dinner sometime, we can catch up on the last few years.”

“I….um….” she hesitated, feeling as if she may pass out. In her back pocket, her phone vibrated, and she quickly pulled it out. Her screen read Sexy Ranch Hand. “Sorry,” she muttered, “I have to….Hello?”

“Hey,” Cassian crooned from the other end. “Where are you?”

“I…” she hesitated, looking back at Tomas, who didn’t take the hint and was standing in the exact same spot, watching her.

But she didn’t have to say anything else, because Beau rounded the corner, coming straight toward Nesta, Cassian right behind. He saw her, looking pale and terrified, no doubt, and his smile faded as he slowly put down his phone.

“I have to go,” Nesta said, looking away from Tomas, but he turned around to meet Cassian’s gaze.

“What do you want, Nazari?” It was practically a snarl.

It took him a moment, but Cassian put his usual smirk back into place. “Nothing. Just came to see if Nesta was ready to go?”

Tomas wheeled around, making Nesta flinch in a way that Cassian didn’t miss. “You’re here with him? Nes, he’s trash.”

She didn’t look Tomas in the eye as she said, “I have to go,” and tried to push past him. He gripped the top of her arm.

Cassian growled, “Take your gods damned hand off of her.”

Nesta’s head shot up at the venom in that usually sarcastic tone. She carefully, but firmly, pulled from his hold, and said, “Goodbye, Tomas.” She walked past Cassian, but he didn’t follow. She breathed, “Cass, please.”

Something shifted in his gaze, and she could tell he really didn’t want to follow, really wanted to stay, really wanted to kick Tomas’s ass right there in the middle of the hardware store, but he didn’t. He listened to Nesta. Nodding subtly, Cassian backed up, keeping his eyes on Tomas’s for one second too long.

“Come on, boy,” he whispered to Beau, who was snarling at Tomas.

The three of them left the store in complete silence. There were already supplies in the back of Cassian’s truck, supplies that looked like they were meant for the stables he’d been working on, per Nesta’s request. He must have put them in before he called Nesta.

Nesta climbed up into the passenger side and Beau must have noticed her discomfort because he laid his fluffy little chin on her lap.

Cassian got behind the wheel and started the engine before asking, quietly, “Are you okay?”

Nesta nodded, unable to trust her words.

“Good,” Cassian whispered. “Sorry my alphahole personality came out.”

Nesta, despite herself, chuckled, but she still didn’t say a word. She hated Tomas, loathed him. He was the one person that she was hoping not to run into when she got back to town.

So, of course, he’d be the first person she’d see.

She was silent on the way home, not a single word or sound from her. She idly scratched Beau’s head while she stared out the window. When they’d been on the road about three minutes, Cassian asked, “Do you want to talk about it?” Nesta simply shook her head. Cassian understood, so instead, he turned the radio on and let the music play.

When they got back to the ranch, Nesta was out of the truck before it was even in park. The paint chips were forgotten on the seat and Cassian let her go, watching as she walked, but not down the hill to her small cabin by the river. He watched as he walked up the stairs and into her childhood home.

#sharacollab #theranchnessian #collab #nessian #fanfic #fanfiction #acotar #acomaf #acowar #acofas #acosf #ranch au #modern au

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blueymoons · 4 years ago

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Hey boo! Here's a bunch of numbers for that music meme: 1, 5, 6, 15, 20, 26, 28, 35, 38, and 50 🥳❤️ Looking forward to your answers, I love your music taste!

OOOoh this is so exciting!!! @kenzthepea...I adore you and I haven’t told you that enough lately. ❤❤❤

OK..Here goes:

1. Current Favorite Song: This is hard...Because I love so many songs. But the one I kept repeating today was Cardigan by Taylor Swift. I like the melody, and the lyrics that are so intricate. I especially love the bridge and I think my brain is formulating a fic with this song...but I have to wait and see what percolates. But it feels like that’s about to happen.

5. A Song That Reminds You Of Another Time In Your Life: I’m going to with It’s Been Awhile by Staind. I don’t know why...but every time I hear this song I think back to the first guy I fell in love with. It literally never played while we were together, or featured in our relationship at all, and has nothing to do with either of us...but it makes me think of him because I feel him in it. I think it’s maybe that during the time I met him, and fell in love with him and was held by him...I was dealing with some serious things in my home life. My mother was abusive, and I felt worthless and like a complete fuck up...but all of that didn’t matter when he hugged me. None of it mattered when we were talking. It makes me feel the way he made me feel and I love that. Because I still love him. Just differently, though 15 year old me is still deeply in love with him...But I am happily married to a man who adores me, who listens to me, and who makes me feel seen...which is exactly what Daniel did for me all those years ago. We’re still very good friends and we sing karaoke together (not currently obviously) and he still gives the best hugs and he’s still as sweet and dreamy and magnetic as he was the day I met him. And I feel grateful, so damn grateful that the first man I ever loved, taught me that I was worthy of that love, so that I could recognize when my husband felt the same way. That was long...but worth it. And you knew I’d be wordy. 🤣

6. A Song That Reminds You of A Place You’ve Been: I cannot hear the Hawaiian version of I’m Yours by Jason Mraz without instantly being transported to the beach house my husband and I were married out of a little over 11 years ago. That song was played multiple times during our stay, and the Hawaiian version is so much more lovely than the radio version. It wasn’t our wedding song...but it is our unofficial wedding song. So much so that it’s the song my husband set as my ring tone when I call him. 🥰🥰🥰 I can’t seem to find the Hawaiian version but the version I linked is very damn close.

15. A Song That Makes You Want To Fall In Love: This one was really hard...Because I’m already very much in love with my husband...But I’m going to give you two...by the same artist, on the same album, because both give off some serious sex appeal to me and both would make me ache to have someone to feel that way about if I didn’t already have my Husband-Man. Wolf Like Me by Lera Lynn ft. Shovels and Rope, and Lose Myself by Lera Lynn, ft. John Paul White (you knew he had to be in here somewhere). Both are on her Plays Well With Others album, which was co-produced by John Paul and Ben Tanner (of the Alabama Shakes) at their Sun Drop Sound recording studio in Florence, Alabama and is on their label Single Lock Records (I’m a huge fan of pretty much every artist on Single Lock’s label) and these two songs are just straight up magic. Wolf Like Me is like...a werewolf love song. It’s literally her begging someone to be a wolf like her, and understand her, and I believe its a cover...but I choose to ignore that because I don’t ever want to hear anyone but Lera and S&R singing it. It’s haunting and sexy and just...ooof. So good. Lose Myself is sexy AF as well because it’s a duet with John and they’re basically singing about being in love with someone who they know is bad for them...and it’s just so painfully sexily delicious. I dare you to listen to their voices melding and not melt into a puddle. It’s almost impossible.

(This damn post is going to be really long...I hope you don’t mind. 🤣)

20. A Song You’ve Listened To On Repeat Recently: Rattle by Penny and Sparrow (I think you already know this one) has been on repeat for me lately. This song has been many things to me...But It’s become my worship song. When I REALLY need to talk to God (I’m spiritual...I hope this isn’t something that bothers you. Apologies if it is...I won’t preach...I promise) I turn this song on and I always feel closer to Him. When I first heard it I heard it as a romantic song. But the more I listened to it, the more I felt Him in it and the lyrics really called to me. “Because I’m not proud, I’m not proud, I’m not proud of me...so how could you, how could you ever be?” really nails me on the head. I feel like I fall down on being a light for God quite a bit. I try, always, to be a beacon of love and acceptance and grace to everyone. I want to understand my fellow humans...and love them despite their flaws and foibles...but it’s hard. And so this song reminds me that I’m not alone, and that I’m not the only one who occasionally feels that I’m not making Him proud...but the last lines, “I'm gonna work on waiting, If it's true you wanna say you love me every day. And I'm sorry (that it took me so long to realize) you've always felt that way”, are a beautiful reminder that God’s love for me is something he wants to give me everyday, no matter how much I’ve failed at being His beacon on Earth. So it’s my worship song, because I don’t go to church, but hearing this song is feeling a wash of his love over me and that helps me on really hard days. (I hope that wasn’t too preachy)

26. A Song That Reminds You Of Your Favorite Fictional Character: GOD SO MANY!!! Like...everyone I’ve ever written a fic about...and there are MANY. I guess the best way to find this one is to go to my AO3 series The Music Made Me Do It

28. A Song That Represents Your “Aesthetic”: I don’t really know what my “Aesthetic” is...maybe uptight, bohemian, plant loving, boy and dog mom, who over thinks everything constantly? Is that an aesthetic? LOL. So i’m not sure how to answer this one. But if “aesthetic” means what I would have playing in the house all the time, no matter what, no matter who comes over...It would be THIS entire playlist. It’s called Relaxed Jams (which is the EPITOME of an original title...I’m not good with titles...leave me alone 😂) and it’s pretty much playing nonstop in my house and car...Unless I’m listening to Hamilton...which is also constantly playing. So...there you go...My “Aesthetic”...Hope that works for you. 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

35. A Song That Sends Chills Down Your Spine: In the fall of 2018 I was dealing with the knowledge that my oldest son was planning to move to Florida. And I was NOT handling it well. To be honest...I still am not handling it well. I don’t like my baby being so far away and I miss seeing his face, hearing his voice, yelling at him to clean up after himself...I just miss him like I’d miss a limb. We’ve been together since I was 18 and he’s going to be 20 in a few weeks and so, I’m sure you can imagine, over half of my life has been spent loving him. My two boys are the air in my lungs and the blood in my veins. They are EVERYTHING to me and that’s not hyperbole. It’s FACT. So, the idea of him moving away from me made me feel like I’d done something wrong, something to chase him away. And I was listening to a random Jason Mraz playlist on Spotify when I heard a song of his that I’d never heard before (which, in itself was a fucking miracle). That song is God Rests In Reason (yes...another God song...sorry) and it’s lyrics were so utterly perfect for the way I was feeling that I had to literally pull over on the side of the road because I couldn’t see where I was going for the tears in my eyes. Those lyrics were: “Well your children will not be your children They are the daughters and the sons a beginning They'll come through your womb but not be coming from you They will be with you, but they do not belong to you You can give them your love but not your thoughts 'Cause they'll arrive with their own hearts They're the coming of angels this blessed season Undone they’ll sing, Oh how God rests in reason God rests in reason Isn’t reason enough to prove how God moves through you God rests in reason And thank God you can direct the course of love itself of love itself Directs the course of life Believe not God is your heart child But rather you’re in the Heart of God” And it just SPOKE to everything I felt. I’d been asking myself why my child, who I love beyond everything else, who I’d lay down and die for if he asked me to, would want to leave me. Why would he want to go so far away...and God answered with this song. Because Michael has his own heart...and his heart is pulling him to Florida. And in those moments I started to feel a measure of peace. And I started to cope a little better. I stopped crying and feeling like he was telling me I’d done something wrong, and I started being proud that I’d raised my son to feel strongly enough about his own intuition to follow his dreams and reach for the things he wanted in life. I still miss him. I still hate that he’s gone. But it’s eased. And when it threatens to suffocate me, I go to this song. I realize it isn’t spine tingling in the manner that this question probably meant...but it tingled my spine that a song I’d never heard, by an artist I adore and thought I’d heard everything from, shuffled through my phone at a time that I really needed the message in it. I hope that makes sense...and fills the request.

38. A Song That You Think Is Underrated: I really think pretty much everything Penny & Sparrow has done is horribly underrated. These two men deserve at least the same amount of accolades that Hozier has. And I’m sure Hozier would agree with me if he’d listened to their catalog. I’m never NOT going to promote these guys and I know y’all are tired of it but they mean a literal shit ton to me and I NEED everyone to know their music and recognize their brilliance. They’re better than Ryan Adams, and all the other sad bastards of folk...and they’re complete and total sweethearts who really give a damn about their fans. I will not rest until I’ve told the entire world about Andy Baxter and Kyle Jahnke and that’s that about that. You can find a playlist of their entire catalog of music songs here. I listed them in order of release...and I recommend listening to them that way. At least for the first listen. But be prepared to be hooked because they’re addictive.

50. Free Slot! Any Song You Want To Share: I feel like you just had me create a playlist for you...And I’m totally OK with it. But I can tell you that...the song Green Eyes by Joseph will be featured in a forthcoming work of mine...The chapter has already been written...I just need time to finish the chapters before it. I guess this is a spoiler for the fic...but it isn’t really because if you know anything about my #1 ship...you know where I want it to go...and this song, is perfect for it.

Goodness Kenz...I hope this was what you were expecting because I feel like I wrote you a book.

Thanks for asking me for all of these songs...You know I love talking about my favorite musics. And I hope there are some songs that you just fall in love with here. I’d love to hear about it if you do. Hope you’re well.

Love you!

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moiraineswife · 7 years ago

Note

Adronitis + Molly/Caleb

Adronitis: Frustration with how long it takes to get to know someone: Molly/Caleb:

“Do you think you could just…Tell the truth to us? Just once?” Caleb snapped, suddenly.

Molly blinked, glancing towards the wagon that he’d been riding beside as they made their steady way along the road towards the next city. He had been chatting animatedly with Jester, who had been asking him things about himself for the better part of an hour, and he’d been doing as he was wont to do and giving her ever more ridiculous, and utterly bullshit, stories.

He hadn’t even been aware that Caleb had been listening. His head had been buried in one of his books, as usual, and he seemed as oblivious to Molly’s conversation as he would have had been sitting at the bottom of a lake while it took place.

“Excuse me?” Molly replied, mildly, raising his eyebrows at the wizard, who was staring up at him, book still open in his lap, but for once not holding his entire attention.

“Everything that has ever come out of your mouth from the day we met you has been a lie,” Caleb said.

Out of the corner of his eye, Molly could see Beau muttering something to Jester, while Fjord watched on, quiet, but with a keen interest. None of them made any move to interrupt. “Whenever we ask you a question, or whenever you tell us anything about yourself, or your past, it’s all bullshit. Why say anything if you’re not going to say the truth?”

Molly felt that this was rather rich coming from Caleb who, by all accounts, had been more tight-lipped than a thousand years dead ocean clam.

However, not wishing to cause a fight on the road, knowing from experience how painful that could make things for everyone, he simply cocked his head to one side and said, easily, “In my experience, people don’t often care about the truth. Particularly not when they’re on the road, passing the same scenery as they have been for the last twenty miles,” he added, with a sidelong look at Jester, who nodded vaguely in agreement.

He shrugged again.

“At the end of the day, we care about stories. We remember stories. They’re the things that make us laugh, make us cry, make us love them and live for them. Compared to that, whether or not the story is true is of little consequence.”

“It is of consequence to me,” Caleb replied, stubbornly.

Molly stared long and hard at him, then manoeuvred his horse to trot closer to the wagon, so that only Caleb could hear his next words, “Why does it matter to you?” he asked, staring at the wizard intently.

As usual, Caleb didn’t quite meet his eyes, but Molly had rather quickly learned this had much less to do with honesty and lies than it had to do with Caleb simply being Caleb.

“Why do you care whether I tell the truth or a pack of lies? My past doesn’t matter to you, doesn’t matter to any of this. It’s got nothing to do with why I’m here, or who I am, or what we are. it’s just a story.”

“It matters,” Caleb gritted out, “Because…”He hesitated, for just a fraction of a second, then said stoutly “It matters because I am travelling with you, and Nott is also travelling with you. We are putting ourselves in dangerous situations with you, and our lives in your hands.That is why it matters.”

Molly laughed, a soft, silky, dangerous thing, “It doesn’t matter for that, either,” he said, smoothly. “All you need to know for that is that I know how to handle a sword,” he drew one of his scimitars in a single, fluid motion, and tossed it into the air, catching it with ease and deftly spinning it through the air around him before slipping it deftly back into its sheathe. “And you know perfectly well I can handle myself. It’s saved your life on more than one occasion, don’t forget.”

“I don’t forget that,” Caleb said, keeping his voice a little lower, too, so the others couldn’t hear, though Molly noticed Nott’s ears twitching slightly from where she sat up front driving their wagon. “But I feel as though I have been travelling with you for months now, but I don’t know a single thing about you, and that troubles me.”

Molly smiled easily at that, “That just makes life more fun, Caleb. A little mystery, a little uncertainty, a little danger.”

“Yes” Caleb replied drily, “Because we all need more danger in our lives.”

Molly laughed. “I’m not a danger to you, Caleb” he said, letting his voice soften, “If you know nothing else about me, know that. I will never hurt you. Or Nott. I’ll protect you both as best I can. And likely die some day, riddled with arrows, to stop you becoming a walking hedgehog again. I’ve made my peace with that. Make your peace with me. That’s all you need to know to travel with me.”

With that, he dug his heels into his horse, and trotted ahead, out of earshot of the wizard, up to the head of the party to chat to Fjord a little.

***

Later that night, when they had made camp and settled themselves, Caleb was interrupted by the soft crunch of boots on stone.

He glanced up to see Molly picking his way towards him, deliberately making noise so as to alert Caleb to his presence and not startle him. Which was annoyingly considerate of him.

Molly was a riddle of contradictions, and had been from the day they had met. He was so relaxed, and unconcerned, and uncaring about seemingly everything…Yet he would also take care to signal his approach so as not to startle him. Pull him back to himself in the middle of a battle and kiss him gently on the head afterwards. Stand in front of him and use his body as a shield to take wounds that would otherwise have been meant for him.

Caleb couldn’t understand him. His world was governed by structure, and order, and information. Once he understood something he knew what he could do with it, how he could use it, whether or not he should avoid it, whether or not he should keep it around. Molly stubbornly refused to be neatly placed into a box in Caleb’s mind, where he could be filed away and understood. Instead he flitted from point to point, like an insect, resisting all attempts at capture.

And now he marched up to him out of the darkness with a rather alarming air of purpose around him.

“Can I help you?” Caleb asked because that what you were supposed to say, not because he actually felt any inclination to help Molly with anything at the moment, absorbed as he was in his studies.

“We’ll see,” Molly replied cheerfully, plonking himself down on the ground beside Caleb, leaning casually against the broad-trunked tree at their back.

“Uh,” Caleb began, frowning slightly, “Do you mind? I’m rather busy at the moment,” he gestured towards the books that were spread out around him, “Perhaps we could do this another time?”

“Oh I’m sure we could,” Molly replied, evenly, “But we’re going to do it now. I promise not to take up too much of your precious study time.”

Resigned, Caleb sighed, and waved his hand for Molly to get on with it. The sooner he said whatever it was he had come here to say, the sooner Caleb could return to his reading.

“You don’t like liars,” Molly said, boldly, apparently just getting right into it, which he appreciated.

“What gave me away?” he deadpanned in answer.

A wry grin spread across Molly’s face at that, but he continued as though Caleb hadn’t said anything at all. “But you lied to me earlier, back on the road, when I asked you why it bothered you that I had lied about my past. You don’t give a fuck about making sure I’m a worthy travel companion. I’ve proved my worth on that front a hundred times over. So what ‘s the truth, Caleb?”

Caleb blinked, rather shocked by the bluntness of this statement, but rallied quickly. “If you thought I was lying to you back then, why didn’t you challenge me then?”

“Oh, well,” Molly said, shifting slightly, angling himself away from the tree, planting his hands behind him in the long grass, and stretching back, head tipped up towards the star-strewn sky.

Caleb licked his lips, unable to stop his gaze drifting over the sweeping, delicate lines of the tiefling’s body. The shirt he always wore was parted in that deep, slashing v down t he front, revealing his light, lavender skin, criss-crossed with scars, flowing up into the strong column of his throat, the angled jaw, those beautiful, elegant lips.

He gave himself a little shake as he realised Molly was talking again.

“I thought the others had had enough of a show as it was,” he said, jerking his head lazily in the direction of their main camp, “And besides, I wanted to discuss this matter with you more privately.” For some reason, the emphasis he put on that last word made Caleb shiver. Molly widened his eyes innocently at him, “That’s not a problem, is it?”

“No,” he ground out, automatically, even though it was.

Molly let out that soft little laugh again, “More lies, Caleb?” he challenged, arching forwards now, red eyes gleaming in the glow from the dancing lights Caleb had conjured earlier to light his reading. “I promise I don’t bite…Unless you ask nicely.” He laughed again, and Caleb shivered once more. “What’s the problem with being alone with me, then?”

What was the problem? The problem was that his heart had gone into a frantic gallop the moment Molly had settled himself beside him. The problem was that the intimacy of this situation was raking its claws down every raw, shredded nerve he possessed. The problem was he didn’t trust himself alone with Molly, didn’t trust himself to have the self-control he needed to have, the self-control he always had for everyone but this gods-damned tiefling.

The problem was that Molly’s proximity, the heat that burned from his skin, the smirk curving his beautiful lips, and the fact that there was no-one around to see made Caleb want nothing so much as to slam into the tree behind him and kiss him until he couldn’t breathe, much less utter any of those clever comments of his.

“The problem is,” he said, because he couldn’t very well say the truth, for all his desire for it from Molly, “That I was busy reading, and you interrupted me for apparently no reason.”

Molly’s smile just broadened at that, as though he knew precisely what Caleb had been thinking, and had decided to respond to that as opposed to the load of bullshit that had just come out of his mouth.

“I’m feeling generous this evening,” Molly said, settling back, his tail swaying lazily back and forth, like a snake before a charmer, “So I’ll let you answer again. Why do you care, Caleb?”

He stared for a long moment at Molly, idly tapping the point of the quill he was holding against the parchment balanced on his lap. Finally, he gave the answer as close to the truth as he could, “Because I do not know you. And I want to.”

Molly stared back at him, the silence enveloping them both, clearly unsure how to respond to that, apparently not having been anticipating it. Caleb felt a ridiculous rush of pride at the idea that he might have actually managed to unbalance Mollymauk, when he was usually so composed and unflappable.

Finally, he said, “You’ve been travelling with me for months now, Caleb. We’ve fought, and killed, and brushed death together. I think you know me.”

Caleb shook his head, the frustration he’d been feeling for weeks now biting off the end of his patience. “You cannot someone if you don’t know their past. We are all a different pattern of scars. We are all a messy patchwork of the things that have happened to us, stitched together with the things that we’ve done. Your past defines who you are, and I know none of yours, so I know nothing of you.”

“No,” Molly said, a strain to his voice that Caleb couldn’t place, a deep emotion stirring in those red eyes, something that seemed like sadness when he looked at it. “We’re not defined by our pasts, Caleb,” with that, the usual ease, the casual charm and confidence all returned, so smoothly that he wondered if he had ever seen that flicker of…Something else from the tiefling. “We’re defined by our actions. We’re defined by the choices that we make. The things we protect. The things we pursue. The things that we love. That is what makes us who we are right now, in this moment. That’s all I care about. And you’ve seen more than enough from me, Caleb to know who and what I am.”

“I have,” he murmured softly, “But I have also seen you lie to me.”

Molly smiled humorlessly, looking away from him and shaking his head. the jewellery in his horns caught the edges of Caleb’s dancing light spell for just a moment, and they burst, sending a shower of stars spattering across the small clearing he had settled himself in, with Molly at their centre.

Then he said, quite suddenly, “Do you trust me, Caleb?”

he wanted to say that of course he didn’t. He didn’t know him. How could he ever trust what he didn’t know? How could he trust someone who lied to him, who considered stories more important to tell than truth? How could he trust someone who did the things that Molly did to him with seeming ease and abandon?

But he didn’t.

Instead, he let a single, raw truth spill from his lips before he could call it back, “Yes.”

And that was the true heart of the matter. Molly had given him every reason, every reason in the world, not to trust him, not to let himself get close to him, not to spare so much as a second thought for him. But he did. He trusted him. And it terrified him.

A slow, satisfied smile bloomed across Molly’s face, and his eyes danced with victory as he moved in closer to him. “The truth at last,” he said, softly, “You trust me in spite of it all.”

“Yes,” Caleb whispered again, his eyes closed, his head hanging as shame flooded his lungs, and heat flooded his cheeks.

Molly slid a clawed finger beneath his chin and gently but firmly tilted his face up again. He licked his lips, dragging his eyes slowly, deliberately, up, and then down, Caleb’s body.

He leaned forwards, until his scent was almost overwhelming Caleb’s senses, and the heat between them was nearly too much to bare. Then he whispered, mouth so close to his ear that his fangs gently grazed the shell of it, “Prove it to me.”

He drew back, his eyes gleaming hungrily, and Caleb knew what he wanted. Knew what they both wanted. He knew what Molly was asking for. He knew, and he gave it to him without thought.

Cupping his cheek in his hand, Caleb kissed him.

It wasn’t a thing of gentle confessions and timid feelings. It was a thing of furiously bottled emotions, of burst dams, and finally released explosions. It was everything that had been building inside Caleb for weeks. It was hunger, and it was passion. It was instinct, and it was fever. It was desire and need tangled together. It was truth. And it was beautiful. It was divine.

When they broke apart at last, Molly was as flushed and breathless as Caleb had always pictured him, and he couldn’t help the faint smile that curved his lips at the realisation.

“Was that proof enough?” he asked, breathing hard himself.

“We’ll see,” Molly breathed back, then leaned in to kiss him once more.

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ecotone99 · 6 years ago

Text

Contains profanity and references to religion

(with the humblest of apologies to John Malkovich)

It was somewhere out on Riverside

By the El Royale Hotel

When a stranger appeared in a cloud of smoke

I thought I knew him all too well…

Excerpt from: In the Garden of Allah, ��Don Henley et al.

Somewhere in the depths of an emphatically Acheronian dream it spoke:

“Let me put it in terms that even you, notwithstanding your anorectic human capacity for discernment, may grasp. Consider for a moment a scenario something like this: Somewhere in the warp and weft of the space/time continuum, some cosmic sick-fuck entity... envision a pasty-skinned, frighteningly overweight, greasy-haired slacker-type who hasn’t bathed or changed his food-stained T-shirt and track pants for a couple of weeks and smells so rank his dog steers well clear of him… a degenerate knuckle-dragging exemplification of moral atrophy who, to the misfortune of anything under his dominion, possess a certain degree of omnipotence… (someone like you perhaps? Minus the omnipotence).

Somewhere in the warp and weft of the space/time continuum this error of empyrean phylogeny eventually gets utterly and totally bored with pulling its theoretical wire and decides to write a new program. It creates something uniquely their own and for their exclusive amusement, something to hopefully stem the never-ending tsunami of their ennui... if only just for a metaphysical moment. It conjures up a perfect little mise en scene out in the back forty of what you refer to as the Milky Way... in a simple, modest but nonetheless nifty solar system with a curious collection of satellites circling a pulsating power-plant which keeps them all alive... gives one of those planets an interior dynamo which generates a magnetic field to deflect the radiation put out by that pulsating power-plant so it won't be burned to crisp... covers two thirds of that planet with vast oceans teaming with nigh incomprehensible varieties of life which (and this is of the utmost importance to you, dear reader), hosts a blue/green pottage of photosynthetic phytoplankton... whips up and shapes the land-masses into majestic towering mountains and lush fecund valleys, Brobdingnagian tall-grass-covered steppes, breathtaking canyon panoramas and gently rolling verdant hills... fills this planet with a fantastical assortment of lifeforms, virtually uncountable in number and diversity… all existing within the harmonic perfection of a wholly self-sustaining system. Some would call it... Paradise!!! And some have. That annotated book of fairy tales you humans call The Bible refers to it as The Garden of Eden. Ring any bells for you? But then that execrable empyrean entity, being the sick-fuck that it is, figures it’ll make things a little more interesting on that beautiful blue and green ball circling the Sun by adding a jolt of adrenaline to the whole equation. It gives half of the creatures on that planet a taste for oozing blood and still warm, quivering flesh... it programs the one half to hunt, kill and devour whatever it can run down of the other half, while that other half is programmed to do everything in its power to avoid such a fate. BOO-YEAH!!!! And just like that “Paradise” is transformed into a barbarous and terrifying place for those hunted and eaten... their lives become one of constant heart-pounding horror punctuated by a hideous and sanguinary death… not a particularly pretty picture is it? Sure fun to watch all the action though! But being so easily bored, our sick-fuck cosmic joy-stick pilot cranks-up the entertainment factor another couple of notches and introduces yet another life-form... a quasi-cretinous beast possessing a large brain but an oh so tiny intelligence and a sequence in its DNA making and forever keeping it violent, arrogant, paranoid, fearful and best of all, totally and abjectly insane... and then our fat, foul-smelling and regrettably omnipotent sick-fuck vulgarian of an entity leans back in its Cosmic Barcalounger, reaches for a fistful of Hosetess Twinklies, cracks another can of Diet CokaPepsi Cola and, with a stream of drool slowly marking a path down its pimply unshaven double chin, watches with a dolt-like smirk as those naked, upright insane apes really fuck that beautiful little blue-green planet up... but good!!!!! So-ah... sleep well little human.”

‘No! No, not again! Jeezuz, not again! … Huh? What? Where… where am… I? I? Oh yeah, I remember… oh fuck, that freakin dream again! I gotta get a little more sleep… just a little longer… I’ll explain it all after a bit more shut-eye…’

And... sometime later...

‘OK, OK… I'm awake now… sort of. So… guess you wanna know what's goin on huh? OK then, here it is. But pay attention cuz I'm only gonna tell ya this once…’

That dream…? The one woke me up earlier? That was the dream I first had one night, after a hefty lower-colon cleansing dinner of habañero-slathered burritos and many, many beers… so many beers… and thought little of the next morning, once I struggled to reach the surface through my leaden hangover and regained what might possibly pass for consciousness… I mean, bizarre dreams often do occur subsequent to a massive Mexican alimentary trial-by-fire such as the one in which I like to indulge from time to time.

That first time I had the dream, I came-to bathed in a cold sweat, smelling like the floor of a 99¢ taco-joint that had been mopped with stale Tecate and feeling like a gang of Lincoln Heights homies had done the Jarabe Tapatío on my head (for anyone not familiar with the home of Acapulco Gold’s colourful culture, that would be the Mexican Hat Dance). Or maybe in my head. A perfectly normal morning-after after one of my frequent Friday night-befores. I was lying there wondering who the Hell had filled my mouth with extra-spicy sawdust when the dancing homies decided now was a good time to have street-fight in my guts. I jumped up and hit the floor running, reaching the Temple of Release with not a second to spare and sent Ruben and the Jets back down south of the border. It was a damned close call though, let me tell you. I won’t bother you with the sordid details but suffice to say that yes its true, Mexican food, like firewood does heat you twice. Ooh-whee, does it ever!

After fifteen or so minutes of squatting on (or more like clinging to) the throne, panting like a whipped and winded greyhound, the second searing sting of the hot pepper lash let-up enough so that I could walk again. Sort of. I pulled myself up and shuffled ever so gingerly over to the medicine cabinet for a deep pull on the trusty bottle of Pepto-B I keep on hand for those colonic seismic aftershocks that always follow the initial eruption. Jesus but that stuff tastes gawd-awful! Comes as a rude jolt every time. But it works like a hot-damn to settle a squeamish belly and it sure rinsed the searing hot sawdust out of my throat right-quick. I knocked the bottle back and drained it, catching myself just in time from going back too far and hitting the tiles. Straightening up again, I caught sight of my face in the mirror. Now I’ll be the first to admit it ain't a pretty face at the best of times, and this was definitely not the best of times, but it wasn’t the face that not even a mother could love staring back at me that shocked me to my very depths. Don’t I wish. No, it was when I looked into those bloodshot beady little eyes which my genes have cursed me with that I remembered the dream… in minute detail and with crystal clarity, a clarity that I never ever expected to experience again, not since alcohol and recreational drugs became my constant companions back at the tender age of twelve, or maybe eleven. A cold shiver raced up my spine and back down again, stopping regrettably short of the blast-furnace door between my butt-cheeks, and I had to grip the side of the sink to steady myself.

“Sleep well little human”… those final four words the voice in the dream had spoken… chilling words… they seemed to hang there suspended in the putrid air of the bathroom as I stood staring into those bloodshot eyes staring back at me from the mirror. Those eyes blinked hard a couple of times, but precise focus was still slightly beyond their capability for the moment. Fuck it I scowled as I splashed cold water over my face, it was only a goddamned dream and went to the kitchen to crack my first hangover-chasing brewski of the day. Only a goddamned dream I thought as I downed that beer and reached for another. Maybe I should ease-up on them habañeros next time…

But then, much to my increasing dismay, I had the exact same dream every night for the next month. The same freakin dream, each and every night! Same voice telling me the same story, ending with “Sleep well little human”… each and every night! Even after all I had for dinner was a grilled cheese sandwich and a glass of milk! (I do like to play it safe on occasion.) But each and every night for a month…? The same dream…? I started to wonder… exactly what the fuck is going on here. Hey, who wouldn’t? Each and every night? For a month? Had I ever been in full possession of my sanity I might’ve wondered if my grip on said sanity had begun to loosen, but after so many years of free-falling into substance-abuse, there wasn’t much left to wonder about.

Unless I happened to pass-out, which to be honest is getting to be the case more often than I care to admit, hitting the sack soon developed into a tense finale to my day. Night after night I tossed and turned and chewed my lip raw waiting to slide into a fitful slumber, knowing what would inevitably go through my tortured mind as I slept. And then, just like that, I stopped having the dream… went to sleep one night and it didn’t come. Woke up refreshed and well-rested and even made a slew of life-changing promises to myself I knew I’d never keep. Man was I relieved. I slept like a baby night after night, no more of that snide voice sounding like John Malkovich telling me things I DID NOT want to hear. NOT! EVER! Over… finally!

I shouldn’t have been so quick to jump to conclusions. Yeah well, wishful thinking always has been a cheap and easy form of entertainment for me, eh?

After a week or so, the dreams started up again. Well, not exactly the same dream as before, more like a continuation of the first one, as in chapter two of God only knows how many, but it was sort of the same dream, if you catch my drift… same snide John Malkovich voice telling me things I DID NOT want to hear. I could almost picture the prick’s sneer and that look in his eyes that says, “You are an utterly worthless piece of dog-shit. Fuck off and die.” That look… nobody can do that look like Malkovich. I don't even think the guy’s acting when he does that. Chapter two goes something like this:

“You have in fact been set-up, suckered as it were, by a sick-fuck cosmic entity with too much idle time on its hands and nothing better to do than to create something to torment… You and the rest of the pathetic creatures in the world in which you live! Its sad, its sick, but its true. An incontrovertible fact. I suppose you just may find a modest degree of solace in the knowledge that its all beyond your control… that the world is as it is, with or without your presence or contribution. But any solace you may cling to must surely evaporate with the realization that the miserable state of affairs on your pitiful little planet is like a thirty metre monster wave carrying you inexorably forward and that you can do about as much or as little to stop that wave as can a dead fish floating belly-up on the surface of the ocean. All you can do is float there and wait till some seagull swoops down and makes a meal of you, reduces you to your component parts in its gut and shits out what's left of you.

But I suppose I'm being a bit harsh. I mean you are nothing more or less than a victim: the victim of some sick-fuck cosmic entity with too much idle time on its hands, aren’t you? You and your cohabitants of Planet Earth. You are all being used, and I don't mean for just the entertainment value of watching you all squirm either. Did you know that you are in fact being farmed for the fear you produce? I'm not joking, it’s true. Fear, as you may or may not know, is a boundlessly powerful form of energy. What's more, it’s a renewable resource to boot. And its absurdly simple to generate in you creatures. You are afraid of everything, some of you of even your own shadows. You're all programmed to fear, fear, fear… incessantly so. Haven’t you ever wondered why that is? Well, I’ll let you in on a little secret: the capacity to fear is built right into the DNA of all living organisms on your planet, with the exception of some viruses that don't have their own DNA. A bit of a glitch in the system. Oh and also those rare individuals who have no fear, but they're genetic mutations. Another glitch. You cannot and never will overcome your fear: fear is as intrinsic a part of you as is everything else about you. And for certain interested parties in the vast endless cosmos, that's a good thing, because as I pointed out, fear is a source of energy. It drives things out there beyond the stars, things of which you, with your infinitesimal intelligence cannot even begin to conceive. As such, the fear you produce without end is not left to waste. Oh no. You are in fact being milked for your fear as surely as a barn-full of dairy cows are milked daily for the creamy white liquid you pour over your morning helping of Colonel Crunch.

In the simplest of terms, the fear you produce is siphoned off by a mechanism known to you humans as the moon. The moon, as you are aware (or perhaps not), has a light side and a dark side. The light side, being the side which always faces the earth, collects the fear while the dark side beams it to the outer planets of your solar system, which are nothing other than relay stations. Those relay stations then send your fear on to an assortment of cosmic fear-farmers who use it to fuel those… those…lets just call them engines, which they employ for purposes you cannot even begin to grasp. It’s a fairly complex system, but it has to be in order to process the humongous volumes of fear produced by you beings non-stop. So, for certain interested parties in the vast and endless cosmos, your planet is an extremely valuable commodity and those parties see to it that nothing ever occurs to hinder, obstruct or eliminate that energy source, regardless of how diligently and repeatedly you try to off yourselves and the planet you inhabit.

I imagine it must warm the very cockles of your heart knowing that, in spite of how utterly contemptible you terrestrial life-forms truly are, you do actually serve a purpose other than for merely an entertainment factor.

But, try as you may, you will never ever be allowed to destroy yourselves and your planet. Not completely or permanently at any rate. Oh sure, you're heading there at this very moment, toward destroying yourselves, and at a tremendous speed I might add. But though it is now a foregone conclusion that all life as you know it on your planet will soon be gone, let us not make hasty or unfounded assumptions. Lets focus on those five key words, life as you know it, shall we? Only life as you know it, not life itself will soon meet its end at the filthy un-washed hands of you humans yourselves.

Though your lovely little blue and green marble hurtling through space will presently resemble one of those charcoal briquettes with which you people like to ruin a perfectly good cut of meat, say within fifty years max, it’ll all start over again soon enough. Relatively speaking. And sooner than you may suspect. This fear-factory you call home has done so innumerable times and will continue to do so for all eternity. It will probably surprise you to hear it but what you creatures so preposterously refer to as civilization has come and gone on your little planet time and time again. The whole shit-heap goes poof and then gradually rebuilds itself. Happens every 100,000 years or so, give or take a few. Don't believe it? I understand, you are chumps after all and insane, crazier than a pack of shit-house rats, n’est-ce pas? But consider for a moment: by your measuring the planet is 6.5 billion years old. Lets say it took all of 5 billion years for complex life systems to appear and establish themselves, that then means the world as you know it could very well have come and gone 15,000 times. That's right, 15,000 times. A sobering thought is it not? Even for a piss-tank such as you. What!!!? You thought you were the first? You really want to believe that don't you? Just as some of you want to believe that this God of yours created the world and everything on it a mere 6,000 years ago. Don't flatter yourself: you are as dumb a fuck as the entity that created your world is a sick-fuck, you know that? And you know what else? Every single one of those 15,000 times you got snuffed? Save for two occasions, none other than you yourselves were the responsible party. Talk about a bunch of brats breaking their toys! You creatures are a riot… in every sense of the word.

But the best part of all is the fact that you humans call this sick-fuck cosmic entity who wrote the program within which you find yourselves God!!! Hoo-hoo-hoo-hoo-hoo… that's rich! You’ve all convinced yourselves and each other that this GOD is to be worshipped, obeyed and feared! Feared…? Absolutely. Obeyed? You have no other options. Obedience is embedded in your DNA as is fear, about which I have just enlightened you. But worship? How could you and why would you worship something like your creator? And that's creator with a small ‘C’ by the way. Well, the lot of you are insane after all, irreversibly so, so that could just explain it. And what's more, you are all pieces of dog-shit, though not entirely worthless. The best thing that you could do for yourselves is to fuck off and die, each and every one of you. The sooner the better. Sleep well little human.”

It got so I couldn’t bear to watch another Malkovich film. Every time I saw his face, with that sneering mouth and fuck off and die expression, my nerves started to do the shimmies… bad. I was expecting the dude on the screen to look straight at me and start talking to me like the voice in my dreams. I just couldn’t take it anymore. So no more Malkovich films for me. Sorry John, its nothing personal. I mean you sure have made some stinkers in your time, haven’t you? Hell, who in your line of work hasn’t, eh? But all in all, I think you're a damned fine actor, way better than most of those sub-normal man-bun hacks who figure they’re some kind of particularly gifted thespian. As if they even know what the fuck that means

But its those dreams John, if you could just stay the fuck out of my dreams, I could maybe reconsider... Like... fuhgedabowdit, ya know?

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#Blogger #Story

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bearhyog-blog · 7 years ago

Text

{ OOC }

So... I’ve been missing. I needed some time for myself, I was really down and I just wanted to take a break from existing basically. I haven’t kept in touch with anyone, not even picking up the phone from grandma. I don’t know why specifically but I can tell you what has been happening in my life lately.

But before all that, I just want to take the time to thank you for keeping me up to date with your life and for always remembering me. I received your present last Friday and that made me sooooooooooooooooooooo happy. You have no idea, my favourite thing to colour is animals ^^ also, mom LOVED her calender, she hung it up on our living room and told me to thank you while complimenting your kindness and “foolishness” from wasting money on her. So thank you, thank you very much for your words, your actions and the postcards! They’re really well thought out and it makes my heart warm to know that I have someone who loves me, even if we’re far apart.

Where do I begin though.

As you know, I’ve been promised a job. I’m still waiting for it because the guy is so utterly busy he just can’t find the time to make videos with me. I don’t know, I’m disappointed I guess. Again. Mom also talked to the lady who was going to give me a ton of work and she also said she’s too busy. I might have a shot at teaching english 101 but the burocracy is crazy and idek how to handle situations like that, its all so complicated, my god. So I’ve been a little sad regarding that. But hey! I finished my portfolio if you wanna check it out. I’ll be adding stuff to it as I make more stuff. Here’s the link: https://marquesara.wixsite.com/portfolio

What else is new? Ah! Since I’ve been feeling so lost and just down, I took on a little project. At first, it was going to be a turtle but the money to keep one is sooooooo much that I decided on dwarf hamsters. They’re very cute. They’re also kinda boring because they don’t interact with us but eh they’re nice to look at and feed and stuff. At first I got two: Francis and Sebastian. I read online that males are usually more calm than females so I decided on two males. AND I build their cage out of a plastic storage box, that wood flooring they have, cardbox as bed and stairs a wheel, a bird nest and feeding / drinking objects. It gave me a purpose, you know? And I was a little happier for a little while. They now live in my closet because my cats are crazy killers and they don’t leave the poor things alone. So during the day I leave the door open from the closet so they can see sunlight while I keep the door to my room closed so they can’t get in. At night I close the closet and leave the door open for the cats if they want to sleep on my bed. Oh! But that’s not all. I went back for a third mouse because the box was just so big for 2 little creatures. When I got to the store I said I wanted to take one more and the lady went. “We have two here but one is not for sale because he doesn’t have a leg so we can’t sell that one.” but I had noticed that one of the hamsters I had home had a limp so I told her that and she apologized and said I could take it back and they’d give me the money back for it. I said no way! The creature is no less of a creature because it has a limp! So the lady said she would offer me one hamster instead. I agreed to that (duh) but I saw that there was only one left in the cage so I told her I’d take that one too so he wouldn’t be alone. So now I have four hamsters living in my room. Oh! The others’ names are Aiden and Josh. They’re all named after characters from shows I love hahaha

Still on the animal train, we have Lolita! Lolita is a very pretty, young cat who gave birth to three kittens last month. She belongs to a friend of grandma’s and the poor cat got pregnant basically because the woman won’t sterilize her and she didn’t want to hear the cat whine so she let her free. Someone found her on the street, shaking, quivering in fear under a car and with major weight loss. Instantly, I wanted to take Lolita from that woman. And I might. I’m going to propose to her that I take her to the vet and do an aids test on her. I can’t add an aids cat in my family but I can help with the kittens. Mom wants to adopt one so we might just do that. Or take them all to the vet for responsible adoptions, because wtf... People are so selfish. I spent a whole hour in her house with Lolita and her kittens. Lolita is so gentle and thin and her cubs are still so small they can’t even meow sometimes. One is black and white, the other is white with brown spots and the other one is white and bege. They’re ALL adorable. But this kind of thing triggers me. I know I can’t be the super hero, saving all the animals but that makes me sad and just bleh.

Moving onward, in a talk with mom she said I had my savings from my childhood in the house and not in the bank anymore and it was a decent amount so instead of just worrying about the future all the time and seeing mom getting so stressed about money, I took her with me to the mall nearest, to Primark so we could both get some new clothes. She was really happy so we went once again days later. I paid for all of it. It wasn’t much but it was something we could never afford if it wasn’t for the savings since mom isn’t doing so well in her job. Anyway, I got sunglasses from dad that cost 25 CENTS!!!!!!!!!!! Yes, that’s how cheap that store is. You can get amazing deals. He was so happy for the random present hahahaha. I also then took a little more cash out of the envelope and told mom to come with me to a store nearby where the supermarket is, she was confused and asked why so I asked her “black, white or gold”? She was even more confused but on our way there she yells “YOU’RE NOT BUYING ME A PHONE ARE YOU?”. Let’s just say mom’s phone belongs in the 1700s and it has a lot of issues. So I searched online and I got a great deal from that store. Mom was FLOORED. It was nice to see. She’s been so down too so I wanted to cheer her up a bit! And it worked, she loved the phone. It’s no Terminator but it works fine, so ^^

I also got you a couple cute things but idk when I’ll be sending them because our post office is working like SHIT!!!!!!!!!!! I’m super mad at them. Remember when I told you I had some stuff from ebay coming? ONE IS STILL NOT HERE DUE TO A TECHNICAL DIFFICULTY. I was so pissed at them I emailed them to insult the crap out of them. Sigh. I hope it comes back soon or I’ll destroy the company with my screams.

Mom bought me an aloe vera plant.

I started washing my hair with shampoo after 1 year of flour. It’s organic, biologic and plant-based blah blah so that I can finally not have flour in my hair all the time but still don’t damage it with chemicals. I didn’t even know such things existed LOL but at the mall I saw this store glowing green and checked it out and NOW I AM FREE OF FLOUR HAHAHAHAHAH

In the meantime, I went to two funerals. No one I knew personally but they were family of family, you know? It made me remember to pray, I had forgotten the words hahahaha. And I like churches, they look old and historical and smell wooden-y hahahaahah I’m an idiot.

Anyway, basically I just dug myself a hole and covered it. I’m ready to resurface now, bit by bit. Thank the lord for TV series. Spoiler alert, Jon Snow sleeps with a very hot woman. LOL But what’s really got me going is this series called Being Human and it’s SOOOOOOOOOOO good. It’s about a vampire, a werewolf and a ghost who live together. They’re all friends against their species “rules”. It’s so dramatic and violent and romantic and emotional and omg I just want to marry Josh, he’s my little Teddy Bear. You should check it out! I think you’d like it. Don’t watch the UK version, that SUCKS. Watch the US remake. Ughhhhhhhh. I even wrote fanfiction about me and Josh HAHHHAHAHAHAHAHA It’s silly but when you’re by yourself that’s what you do.

I just... I really can’t explain it. I fell like Alice in Wonderland (idk if you’ll get the reference or if you saw the movie) but she falls down this hole in the ground and there’s all sorts of things she sees around her like tea pots and chess tables and singing butterflies AS SHE FALLS (more like floats down). And then I felt trapped, I didn’t know which way to go. Should I wait for work here, should I just pack my things and go to Ireland? It’s all so blurry and I think the anxiety of it all caught up to me.

Which reminds me! I upped my meds and they’re working well :)

What else...

Hmmm, oh I have the flu -_- I think I caught it from a kid at dad’s house the other day I went there to have dinner with them. I feel like I weigh 1000000000000kg but it’s all physical, you know? Clogged nose, horrible dry cough, bit of a fever. Nothing that won’t cure itself.

I think that’s all there is to tell, actually. The rest of my days I just spend watching shows with mom, sleeping the day away because the meds make me sleepy, walking Mel, taking naps, and more naps. Oh right! And I’m doing therapy too. They stopped the OCD therapy for now because I believe I’m in a good place right now, controllable state that I don’t need a doctor to continue with my treatment for that. But now we’re going all the way back to my childhood and why I only have nightmares and why do I dream of the same guy over and over who I didn’t even date but like... it was a crush in MIDDLE SCHOOL. She basically said I’m emotionally damaged (what a surprise) and that led to consequences such as not liking men unless they’re fictional. But we just started on that so we’ll see where this goes. I think that put me down too, I had to write about every guy I had been involved even at 12 years old and I hated remembering all those times and people and that ALSO contributed to me not being in the brightest of mood.

Then I tried joining a RP as JB from GOT7 because he’s a hot piece of ass. I was on like 7 different dates, not even kidding but I lost interest because they were too easy. I left and joined as Yeeun. No one talked to me so I left again and came back as Ken and his ex from a rp like... two years ago is there and it’s so awkward I just stopped showing.

And that has been my life!

You have no idea how much I’ve missed you and I wanted to talk to you but I just didn’t have the strength... I’m sorry about that and for not being there when you needed me, I truly feel so bad. But I’m here now okay? And I’ll even rewind here so that we don’t clog the messenger feed (which we tend to do a lot)

#ooc

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