#even with each other. porter doesn’t know a moment of peace | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

thewildwaffle · 4 years ago

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The Prisoner - Part 4

I was on a roll after part 3 and had this cute little scene pop up into my head. Plus, Garn really needed a moment to rest and take a breath, he’s been through a lot these past few days!

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

The ship was relatively quiet. Or at least as quiet as a ship can be while bumbling around in space. Perhaps the more appropriate description was that the ship was peaceful. Garn decided that he liked peaceful. He wasn’t sure he understood what it was that he was feeling at first, he’d had so few peaceful moments growing up and working under the Syndicate, but once he figured it out, he decided that it was quite agreeable with him. It seemed to be for Porter as well. His smaller human friend had been recovering quickly after their run-in with Maika the assassin back at the Tupiti Space Port. He could now walk on the leg, albeit with a noticeable limp. Thankfully, it hadn’t seemed to affect his bright and energetic personality, much to Garn’s relief.

Right now though, Porter was asleep. As was Embry, the ship’s medic of sorts. During his time on the ship, he’d been able to piece together a bit more information about his new companions. Embry, he’d learned, had never actually received a medical license. She had training but had never finished. When he inquired more as to why, Embry changed the topic and became much more curt with any further additions to the conversation. Porter was a lot more forthcoming with his backstory. The gist of it was that he’d taken part in some big trading agreement with a private Earth organization and a splinter group from the Bartu Sovereignty that went bad. There’d been some illegal business “under the table” as Porter put it, and he’d been set up as the “fall guy”. The fact that he was a weapons expert and many of the illegal going-ons had to do with the criminal trade of experimental weapons only helped solidify his “guilt” to the authorities that cared. Porter had spent a good part of an entire rotation explaining in great detail how he’d talked, bribed, and fought his way out of the hands of bounty hunters, angry crime lords, sneaking under the radar of law enforcement, and in general living life on the run before he stowed away on The Shasta, this ship, where he met Kaya and Tig.

Then there were those two. The elder human and the kloxan’s story were still a mystery to him. All he’d really gotten to know so far was that they’d been part of a Galactic Confederation crew together. Garn didn’t know much about the Galactic Confederation, other they were considered a continual, pestering antagonist of the Trinn-Har’rups. He’d guarded prisoners of the GC captured by the Syndicate before they faced an unknown, though likely grisly, punishment for the crime of standing in the Syndicate’s way.

Garn felt that among the ranks of guards and soldiers, the Galactic Confederation and those that aligned with them were thought of to be pretentious, power-hungry manipulators. He’d always been around that sentiment, so he never questioned it before. He’d had no need to. Now he was on a ship that had two of them as acting captain and first-mate. Granted they were former Galactic Confederation, so maybe that old profile didn’t fit them. After all, he was now a former guard of the Trinn-Har’rup Syndicate, the stigmas tied up with him probably no longer fit so well either.

And anyway, Porter stayed with them, so they couldn’t be so bad.

Garn rose from the small pile of blankets, pillows, and towels that was currently acting as his bed. Porter had Embry help him scour the ship for as many soft fabrics and items that could be spared to make a spot for Garn to sleep until they could install an actual bed for him. It was nice, but he’d never slept on anything so soft before. Comfortable as it was, between the unaccustomed softness and the overall unfamiliarity that surrounded him, he’d had a hard time finding sleep. As carefully and quietly as he could, he made his way out of the sleeping quarters and down the short hall toward the main hangar room he’d been in when he’d first entered the ship.

The ship was old, but he had to admit that it had been well kept and he’d almost say lovingly maintained. He gave a small half-smile as his eyes ran over the designs in and around the ship. They were outdated. He might even call them antiquated. He liked it though. It felt right and… well he wasn’t sure how else to describe it. Inviting? Warm? Graceful? It was… he felt… like he could belong here. And that made him all the happier.

As he shuffled into the main room, he stood for a moment before he sat down on a bench along the wall to continue processing his thoughts. He wasn’t sure how long he sat there like that, listening to the hum of the ship’s engines and systems when he heard a small quiet grunt to his left. Snapping his eyes open, he searched in the darkness for the source.

His eyes caught a glint of movement from a chair. He felt his fur rise as he instinctively anticipated having to defend himself from an attack. None came though. His brain finally took in what his eyes were trying to see. There was no secret attacker, just human Kaya sitting in a very regal-looking chair. His fur dropped back down and he sighed a breath of relief.

“Sorry I startled you,” Kaya chuckled quietly. Garn could see her shoulders bounce slightly as she shifted in her chair. His eyes ran down her arm. Or where her arm had been. He’d been right earlier that day they’d first met. She hadd stopped what she must have thought was him going to attack Embry. The prosthetic he’d seen her wearing that day and every day since was now no longer attached. Her arm ended just above where her elbow should have been.

After a few tries, he was able to successfully look away. It was hard though. He’d heard humans were capable of surviving attacks or accidents even after losing a limb, but it had seemed like such a far-fetched tale that he wasn’t sure if he’d believed it. The shock alone of having lost a body part was enough to kill many species, but humans, as he now knew, were hardy and stubborn when it came to staying alive and continuing on.

“I… I didn’t realize you were here. I’m sorry I disturbed you,” he murmured as he stood up, feeling like he had intruded on something he shouldn’t have.

“You’re fine, Garn. Sit back down.” It wasn’t a command, it came out softer, like an invitation. He paused and considered that. An invitation. He slowly nodded and sat back down.

“Having a hard time sleeping too, huh?” the human sighed as she leaned further back in her chair.

Garn nodded sharply, then unsure how well humans could see in the dark followed up with a curt, “Yes ma’am.”

Kaya laughed again. “I told you before, you don’t need to call me ma’am.”

“Sorry ma-... uh, sorry. I will try to remember better.”

“It’s okay. I’m sure it’s what you’re used to. I, for one, know old habits die hard.” Her tone was soft and quiet. So unlike the interactions and reprimandings he was accustomed to in his life up to this point.

He settled down a little more, muscles finally starting to drop their worried tension as the two of them sat in the darkness. He eventually relaxed enough that he felt comfortable to break the silence.

“Are you… are you having a hard time sleeping ma- uh, human Kaya?”

She didn’t laugh this time, but Garn could hear the quiet smile in her voice, “We’ll get you through all your formalities yet.” She sighed and stroked her hand over where her left arm ended. “I am. Just some old phantom pains acting up again.”

“Phantom pains?” That sounded serious. Should he go wake Embry?

The worry in his voice must have been picked up because Kaya gently waved him back down as she reached to the counter and picked up a dark mug and sat back in her chair. “My arm may be gone, but sometimes my brain forgets. Sometimes it feels like my arm itches, sometimes it hurts, or at least my brain thinks it does. It doesn’t happen as much as it used to, but still more than I’d like. Especially when I’ve got a lot on my mind.”

She sipped slowly from the mug in her hand. Whatever was in it smelled sweet and calming. Kaya noticed him watching as she lowered the cup and rested it on her lap.

“Mint tea,” she explained. “It helps. Or at least, enjoying a warm cup of it helps me take my mind off the pain.”

Garn nodded silently, not sure what to say. He wasn’t sure what the etiquette was for this situation. He couldn’t take his eyes off her arm and where it ended, but he also knew that for many species, staring for too long at a person could be considered a challenge to a duel, or at least considered rude. Kaya didn’t seem to notice though, more focused on the mug in her hand.

“I brewed it myself,” She continued. “We’ve got a room here on the ship that we’ve filled with plants. It helps keep the air fresh, takes a bit of the strain off the o2 systems. That and sitting in the room or taking care of all the plants helps keep star sickness at bay.”

“Star sickness?” Garn cut in, unfamiliar with the term.

“Void sickness, star sickness, planet separation anxiety, there’s a lot of names for it. It’s not so much a physical sickness, but a mental one. I don’t know how many space-faring races have to deal with it, but it affects humans pretty frequently. It can get pretty nasty too, if it’s not dealt with. I make sure Porter, Embry, and I each spend a chunk of time in the plant room pretty regularly. It’s grounding. And relaxing. Smells nice too. A lot of the plants are, of course, good at filtering the air of impurities, but quite a few of them smell nice. Like the mint, for instance.” She took another sip from the mug and chuckled. “Even Tig likes going in there sometimes. You would think he’d find the humidity levels a pain on the circuits, but he says it doesn’t bother him. I think he finds the plants interesting. Sometimes I notice him laser etching bamboo stalks on packaging scraps when he’s bored.”

Garn hummed and nodded. He’d seen the kloxan do that too. Thinking of him and the human next to him now, he again started wondering at how different they were than what he’d always expected of someone from the Galactic Confederation. Just even in the past few solar rotations, the hard, no-nonsense shell he’d immediately attributed to her when they first met was actually more just her being firm and strong when needed, but thoughtful and gentle at her base. He’d learned so much in such a short amount of time. The galaxy was such a bigger place than he’d ever thought, so much more detailed and nuanced. It had all been so cut and dry and simple when all he knew was what the Syndicate told him. He exhaled deeply as he leaned his head back to rest against the wall.

“That’s quite the sigh,” Kaya noted. “Got a lot on your mind?”

Garn grunted an affirmative. Kaya sat silently as if waiting for him to elaborate. When he didn’t, she leaned her head back to rest against her chair and they both sat silently for a while.

Garn’s mind was racing, and at the same time, it felt like it was stuck in a sticky zawki pit. His thoughts were starting to run into each other and stretch or slow down until nothing was making sense anymore. Maybe he should return to the sleep quarters and try again to get some rest. He looked over to the human who also looked like she was having trouble with her thoughts.

“If I may ask,�� he asked quietly so as to not startle her, “what made you want to leave the Galactic Confederation?”

Kaya tilted her head down to consider him a moment. Even in the darkness, he could see the lines around her eyes pull.

“I left,” she began and thought about it a moment, “I left to find my partner.”

Garn wasn’t sure what that meant, so he waited unmoving until she finally continued. Her voice was slow and deliberate, like she was carefully picking through every word.

“We… we were on a scouting mission and there was… an accident. We were separated. I was, well, I was recovered, but he wasn’t.” She paused again and looked down into her mug. Or maybe at her arm, Garn wasn’t sure. “I tried to convince them to go after him. They said he was gone. I appealed. I appealed again and again to higher and higher powers, but I kept getting nos. They told me he was gone and that trying to… recover him would… that it wasn’t worth the risk. He was a good man.” She frowned and looked up sharply. “He is a good man. I think he’s still out there. He survived. I can feel it. And I decided I was going to get him, by myself if I had to. Tig was on our crew as well. He’s been... a dear friend. Both to Ahmad and I before, and now. He believed me. He came along to help me find Ahmad.”

She looked back up at Garn. “Since we left the GC, we’ve found evidence that we were right, that he made it out alive. We just need to find him. And along the way, we’ve picked up a few other lost souls.”

Garn matched her gaze as he listened and thought on the information. She was on a mission. He, well, he was now for all intents and purposes, a fugitive on the run. Other than staying alive, he had no real plans, no goals. What was he going to do now? He must have spoken his question out loud before he realized it, because Kaya cocked her head and gave a small chuckle in response.

“What are you going to do indeed, dantum? I think that’s what everyone has to figure out. Until you do, though, I suppose you can tag along with us for a while.” She took another sip of her tea before she set it back down on the counter. “After all, it’s not like we’d be able to get rid of ya any time soon. Porter’s gotten attached.” She smiled and gave a short hum, “and I think you’d make a decent enough late-night conversationalist. Granted, you do need a little more practice.”

Garn felt a flicker of surprise and returned the smile. He’d like that. Here on this antiquated but cozy ship, surrounded by terrifying but welcoming aliens, he thought he’d really like that.

#humans are weird #aliens #space #humans are space orcs #prisoner #garn #galactic confederation #writeblr #original writing

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fallout4reactsblog · 4 years ago

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A Very Commonwealth Christmas: Year Two

“Are we seriously doin’ this again?” Gage griped from his place beside the window. “It sucked last year.”

Ada shook her head. “Actually, by my calculations, the endeavor was a great success. Sole’s enthusiasm and overall happiness was far above predicted values. As such, it is only logical to repeat the exercise.”

Cait (who still refused to even look in Gage’s direction) huffed. “So long as we do somethin’ fun this year.”

Preston smiled gently, showing his infinite patience once again. “Of course. I wouldn’t ask you to do the same thing twice, so we’re switching things up a little. Is everyone familiar with the concept of Secret Santa?”

A mixed bag of responses came back.

“Well, it’s simple. I’ve written down everyone’s name on a piece of paper and put them in this hat.” He tipped the hat to show them the neatly folded squares of paper. “Each of us will draw a name, and you’ll get a gift for whoever you draw. Sole was worried that we didn’t exchange gifts ourselves last year, so this year we’re going to make that happen.”

“And what if we don’t like whoever we get?” X6 asked, not looking directly at Deacon, but the subtext was clear.

“You’ll just have to pretend. Remember, for the next few weeks, we’re all good friends as far as sole is concerned. We all get along.”

To Preston’s credit, he did manage to not glare at Gage, X6, or any of the others that were deemed “troublemakers,” but they got the message. He’d made plenty of threats last year if people didn’t get along, threats that were not empty and, undoubtedly, very much still on the table.

“But what about sole?” Piper asked. “Is their name in there?”

Preston shook his head. “They’re not playing. According to them, the effort of us playing is enough.”

Ada took the hat from Preston’ hands. “We will go in alphabetical order to draw names. Cait, you will draw first.”

Cait was at least kind enough to wipe her hands off, freeing them of the looser flakes of dried blood, before snatching out a name. It seemed that the reading lessons between her and Piper had been going well, because she didn’t ask what it said. That, or she was too proud to admit it.

Slowly, they passed the hat around. Some people were better at concealing their reactions than others; Deacon might as well have been wearing a mask for the emotion he showed, but Curie didn’t even try to hide her distaste for whoever she’d drawn.

“Alright, people.” Preston clapped his hands. “Because of the game, I’ve called in some extra help from the settlers to get the other preparations done. You should have plenty of time to get your presents. You’ve got a week.”

Ada

It was a pleasant surprise to have drawn MacCready, in her opinion. Though he wasn’t someone she’d spent much time around, he was a fairly easy man to understand. Plus, it was unlikely he’d be expecting much from her. After all, he would put more effort into his own family celebration than this one, and wouldn’t expect her to do anything but the same.

Still, a part of her wasn’t content with just getting something easy and moving on. That wasn’t the spirit of the game, now was it? But she couldn’t well talk to MacCready directly, so she hunted down the closest person to him.

“What would I want?” sole asked, wiping their hands off on a dirty rag. “Ada, you know that I’m not playing.”

“Of course. But you know all of us the best, do you not? And you have quite a lot in common with my partner.”

“Well, alright.” They leaned back against the workbench to think. “I mean, anything at all is enough to make me happy. A new coffee mug would be nice, though. I’ve been looking for one that’s shatterproof so I can just toss it in my bag on the road and not have to worry about it getting chipped or anything.”

“That is a helpful insight.” Already, her mind was working, thinking about things that could make life on the road easier. “Thank you.”

“Sure, anytime.” They turned back to the workbench. “Good luck.”

Cait

The evening found Cait curled up next the fire, beer in hand, bitching with Hancock about the whole thing.

“How am I supposed to know what Deacon wants?” she said, glaring at the bottle in her hand as if it was to blame. “I don’t know shite about him.”

“No one does. That’s his whole gimmick.”

“Makes him a shitty person to find a gift for, then, doesn’t it?”

“Just get him a box of ammunition or something. It’s a good, generic gift.”

She glared at him. “Do you even know if he uses a gun?”

“Well, now that you mention it, no. But there’s gotta be somethin’ like that that’ll work. Rad-X, or RadAway, or RadSomethingElse that he needs.”

With a sigh, she took another drink. “You reckon sole’ll mind?”

“They’ve gotta know how he is, right?”

She shook her head. “Who did you get, though?”

He crinkled what was left of his nose. “Guess.”

“Someone you don’t want, by the looks of it.”

“I’ve got the ol’ tin can himself.”

She snickered into her drink. “Bad luck.”

He let out a long sigh. “Anythin’ for sole, right? I’ll dig up a gift for crew cut, you find somethin’ for shitty James Bond, they’ll be happy and we’ll move on.”

“Yeah, sure. Anythin’ for sole.”

Codsworth

Of all the people that could’ve drawn Hancock, it had to be him.

Most people, of course, would take the easy way out. A box of chems would be more than enough to make him happy, and would be easy to procure in the Commonwealth. But it just didn’t sit right with him. It just wasn’t his style, so he needed a new idea.

“And you’re sure you don’t want to just get some drugs?” Farenheit asked.

“Positive.”

“Shit.” She blew out a long trail of smoke. “That makes things harder. Do you mind gettin’ your hands dirty?”

“I’ve been known to get into the occasional scrap.”

She nodded. “A while back, John lost his lighter to some punk, a raider or somethin’. He said it wasn’t a deal, never went and got it, but if you could get it back, I bet he’d like that.”

“And where is this hooligan now?”

“Last I heard, he was hiding out in Dunwich Borers.”

Not the safest place, but he could probably talk sole into going with him. After all, if they heard raiders had moved back in, they’d want to take care of business.

It was better than any plan he had, at least.

Curie

She wouldn’t have called herself a mean person usually. She liked to think of herself as someone who was generally kind and understanding, someone who was forgiving above all, someone who wouldn’t judge others based on rumor alone.

Porter Gage was her one (and only) exception. Which made her current situation awkward, to say the least.

Worse was that there wasn’t anyone to ask, was there? Except for sole, no one knew much about Gage, and those she was closest to happened to hate his guts on principle.

But for the next few weeks, that wasn’t allowed. She could harbor no ill will toward Gage, and instead had to consider him as just another friend of sole’s. Of course, usually that meant she would go straight to sole, but they were off-limits for direct questioning. They didn’t want to know who had drawn whom, which left her with only her own critical thinking to figure this one out.

While her critical thinking had not failed her, it seemed her own ability might.

“Sacre bleu,” she swore under her breath, staring down at probably half a dozen mirelurks. This area was supposed to be peaceful, and she’d hoped to track down some pre-war bug spray. It was no secret that he was no fan of insects, and as much as she hated to agree, these mirelurks were really starting to get on her nerves. Damn giant water bugs.

At least she had found the spray, and she was safe hiding up here in the rafters for the moment. How she was getting down was uncertain, and how she was going to dodge the mirelurks without losing a leg was also up in the air, but she’d gotten what she came for.

Danse

At least he had luck on his side. Of all the people to get a gift for, Cait had to be the easiest for him. She may not have liked him, necessarily, but he understood her better than he understood most of the others. The only better pull would have been Preston, but he wasn’t about to complain.

“I’m glad,” Preston said over breakfast. “Maybe it will help her warm up to you a little.”

“I wouldn’t be certain. I understand her hesitance; it’s a wonder to have been so widely accepted by your Minutemen.”

“Our Minutemen, now.” Gently, Preston tapped his shoulder with a fist. “But speaking of the game, I don’t suppose you’ve spent much time around Ada?”

Danse turned to him, surprised. “I would have thought you were more than equipped to be paired with Ada. After all, she has been the other primary organizer for the holidays around Sanctuary.”

“Yeah, but that’s all business.” Preston sighed. “I don’t think I know much about her as a person.”

“She seems to have affinity for the same kinds of junk that sole does. Perhaps something related to that?”

“Good idea.” He glanced up from the fire and smiled. “Thanks, Danse. I bet you’ll get a great gift for Cait.”

“I hope so. You’ll undoubtedly make an excellent selection for Ada as well.”

Deacon

“You’ve known sole a long time, huh?”

“But of course!” Codsworth says, dusting off the top of the fridge. “I have known sir/mum since even before the war. Before young Shaun was born, even!”

“And you’ve just stayed here this whole time?”

“Certainly. A Mr. Handy never abandons his post!”

“Must be hard.”

“It’s certainly not the easiest work, but I am happy to do it for sir/mum. It was easier before the war, when we had such modern amenities as vacuums and indoor plumbing, but I will endure for their sake.”

“That kind of loyalty’s hard to come by,” Deacon said, leaning back. “Sole’s lucky.”

Codsworth made a noise akin to a scoff. “They’d be luckier if they ever remembered to bring a new feather duster as I asked. I’ve been waiting months now.”

He shrugged. “They’ve got a lot on their mind. Little things lost in the mix. Happens to the best of us.”

It’s the nature of Mr. Handy’s to be talkative, which only gets worse when left alone for a couple hundred years. Still, at least it’s fun to stretch those interrogation muscles again. It’s been a while.

Gage

He knew this was rigged. It has to be. His luck wasn’t bad enough that, of all people, he drew Preston fucking Garvey out of that hat. Even worse, no one would trade with him; they said that it’s not the nature of the game. It was fuckin’ stupid.

So he was stuck with the one guy that hated his guts more than anything. Fuckin’ great. Worst part was, he would have to actually make an effort, because sole had been so thrilled he’d played nice last year, and the last thing he wanted was to get on their bad side. The Overboss’s anger was a dangerous thing, after all.

He hadn’t had much of a choice but to ask sole, despite their insistence on not knowing the pairs. An exception had to be made. After all, he wasn’t sure who else to go to, and they knew Garvey well enough to put him on the right track. Which left him here, digging around the catacombs in the Castle.

“Back in the day, there was a sword that the leader of the Minutement carried around,” sole had said. “Ronnie told me about it. I bet if you tracked it down and polished it up, he’d like that.”

So here he was, choking on dust, searching for some rusted-out piece of junk that probably didn’t actually exist.

“You’re doin’ this for sole,” he muttered, rummaging through a shelf that seemed to only have bags of cement.

Anything to dodge the Overboss’s wrath, even playing nice with fucking Garvey.

Hancock

The worst part was that he knew exactly where to start. He didn’t like it, oh no, in fact he hated it beyond belief. But he prided himself on giving good gifts, tin can or no, and this was a real easy one, if he could just make it work.

At least it was easy to convince sole. They’d gone out for a little bartering, he’d volunteered to come along, and from there it was easy enough to suggest they swing by the Prydwen to barter with Teagan and get paid for those technical documents. Both very time-consuming items, and both things that tended to draw attention once sole had their nice clothes on for bartering.

The nice thing about the Prydwen was that sole had keys to everything. All he had to do was “borrow” their key ring, find the right key, and he could stroll into Maxson’s living quarters like he owned the place.

His prize was easy to find. It seemed ol’ Arthur hadn’t moved on as well as he pretended; Danse’s holotags were sitting right on top of his desk, beside his terminal. They clinked as he picked them up. Sole had mentioned they’d had to turn them in to Maxson when Danse got exiled, and he’d noticed the former Paladin often reaching for a chain around his neck to find only empty air. Which made this gift the best anyone would be giving, hands down.

“Hey, there,” he muttered, turning them over to check the name. “We better get out of here before somebody sees us, huh?”

The nice thing about sole was that they were far too engrossed in bartering to even notice he’d been gone.

MacCready

What were you supposed to get a man that already had everything he needed? It wasn’t like coursers were supposed to want things anyway. Heck, did he even have use for anything except fusion cells?

Sole’s time being a precious commodity, it seemed, left him with three options (three fellow synths, if he was honest). One: Curie, the sweet scientist who had been a synth for about five minutes and had as little in common with X6 as anyone could, save for being a synth. Two: Nick, who didn’t like X6 and probably never would. Both bad choices which, tragically, left him with lucky number three.

Admittedly, since last years mutfruit disaster, he and Danse had upgraded from “I don’t like you, you don’t like me, and that’s fine by us” to “your presence around me isn’t the literal worst” which was a marked improvement. Still, he made the effort to catch Danse while he was working on his power armor, which meant he was probably in a half-decent mood and less likely to try to kill him.

“You sought me out for advice because I’m a synth?” Danse’s tone was not pleased. Surprise, surprise.

“Well, it’s not like you don’t have other stuff in common. You had your whole heart in an organization, too, and it gave you everything you needed.”

“When I was a Paladin, you mean.”

“Yeah. What would you have wanted?”

Danse sighed and shook his head. “As much as it pains me to admit, both Curie and I have observed that Generation Three synths seem to have a terrible fondness for Fancy Lads Snack Cakes. They were forbidden on the Prydwen due to their lack of nutritional content, and I would suppose the Institute is no different. If there is anything that X6-88 wants, that’s my best guess.”

“Snack cakes, huh? That’s... surprisingly easy.” He nodded. “I bet I could get my hands on a bunch in Diamond City, I bet. Thanks, Danse.”

“Of course. Happy to help.”

Nick

It seemed to be his lucky day, because his partner was someone he knew well, and had already planned on getting a gift for: none other than Diamond City’s favorite reporter. He’d gotten Piper a gift probably every year, and already knew exactly what he wanted and where to find it. Lucky him.

“Do you think I should do rose this year?” he asked Ellie, crouched to peer into the bottom drawer of a filing cabinet. He’d stowed away at least twenty years of perfume in there, specifically for Piper.

“You went floral last year,” she said. “Do you want to repeat yourself?”

“That was more lilac than rose,” he grumbled, but pushed the perfume in hand to the back.

“I don’t think we’ve tried anything citrus-y yet.” She hopped off the desk where she was sitting to look, too. “There’s a nice one somewhere in there. What’s it called? Fresh something?”

“Fresh Citron de Vigne.” He pulled the bottle out of the back. “This one was pretty popular before the war.”

“It might be nice to switch things up for her so she doesn’t smell like a florist all the time.”

He nodded. “All that’s left is to wrap it.”

“I’ll take care of that.” She plucked the bottle from his hands. “All you’re going to do is make yourself frustrated when you rip the paper.”

He glared down at his metal fingers, which tended to wreak havoc on anything delicate, especially wrapping paper. “Thanks, Ellie.”

“You can thank me by giving her my gift while you’re up there.”

Piper

The only real question was black or brown, but that was rapidly turning into one hell of a dilemma.

“He’ll like either of them,” Nat said from the couch. “That’s why you got them.”

“I know. I just don’t remember if I gave him a black tie last year.”

She couldn’t see Nat roll her eyes, but she could feel it. “Just ask Ellie. She’ll tell you.”

“Maybe I should give him the blue one to be on the safe side.”

“The one with the little cats on it?”

“Ugh, I forgot about the cats.” She tossed both ties onto her desk with a heavy sigh. “Why did I even get that one?”

“Hey, you don’t know that he won’t like it until you try.”

She shot her sister a scathing glare. “I’m not going to embarrass him in front of everyone with the blue kitty tie. If it was just us, maybe, but now it’s a whole event and I don’t want to make him uncomfortable. Which means it’s black or brown.”

Nat was unfazed by her sister’s glare. “Well, which one do you like better?”

“The black one.”

“So give him that one.”

“But I might have given him a black one last year.”

"So give him the brown one.”

“But I like the black one better.”

Nat sighed dramatically. “He’s not gonna care, Piper. It’s Nick and a tie. He’s gonna like it no matter what.”

“I know, but I don’t want him to think I can only get one color of tie.”

“You’re overthinking this. Here, give me both ties.”

Reluctantly, she handed them over and watched them disappear behind Nat’s back.

“Okay, right hand or left hand?”

“Right.”

“Brown it is.” Nat handed over the tie. “There, problem solved.”

She took the tie back and looked at it a moment.

“You know what, I think I’ll do the black one.”

Preston

Sewing was a nice, therapeutic exercise. After a long day of working on putting up lights and assembling trees and assigning cooking duties, it was nice to be able to come home and return to a project. Sole had told him about jigsaw puzzles once, and he figured this was probably a lot the same.

He’d designed this backpack specifically for Ada, less as an independent bag and more as something that could function in conjunction with the bags she already carried. It had been a uniquely challenging idea, and he’d spent quite a few nights on it before finalizing his pattern and beginning to actually cut into some leather.

Overall, it was coming along nicely. He figured it would be done well in time for the celebration. He hoped everyone else was progressing on schedule; if one of them showed up without a gift, well, he didn’t know what he would do. The idea that one of them would disappoint sole had crossed his mind more than once, and he swore to himself that if anyone failed to perform this year, they’d suffer the consequences. He just wasn’t sure what those consequences actually were.

He shook his head. No use in worrying about it before it happened. The best he would probably get would be a stern talking-to anyway, and maybe the chance to punch somebody in the face. Sole wouldn’t want him hurting any of their friends on their behalf.

Besides, depending on whoever their partner was that this hypothetical asshole had wronged, he might not have to do anything. He couldn’t see Cait letting it slide, that was for sure, and Danse believed so heavily in being a person of honor that he wouldn’t tolerate it either, no matter who had gotten screwed over.

In the end, he probably wouldn’t have to do anything, and that put a smile on his face.

“You want what?”

He tried to not let his face betray him as he stared down Dr. Holden in the corner of the Bioscience division.

“A full lab kit for above-ground experimentation. Orders from the future director.”

It wasn’t exactly a lie; sole wanted him to participate in this silly game, which meant they had essentially “ordered” him to get a gift. What could a scientist want more than a full, top-of-the-line lab kit from the Institute?

“But not Father.”

He peered down at the doctor. “If you are refusing, Dr. Holden, I will report back to sole. I’m certain they will be happy to come themselves, or send word along to Father of your refusal.”

Dr. Holden huffed, and he saw the tiniest spark of fear in his eyes. “I didn’t refuse. I just wish they’d go through proper channels when requesting equipment, that’s all.” He scratched a few words on a piece of paper and handed it over. “There. That’ll get you everything you need.”

He said nothing, just took the paper coldly. Not for the first time, he appreciated that sole had authorized him to act on their behalf. For one, it showed trust, and it also made getting around much, much easier. All he had to do was mention their name, which carried the full force of the director’s office, and everyone was willing to acquiesce.

All he had to do now was make sure nothing broke. Glass was a difficult thing to transport, after all. He could relay straight back to Sanctuary, but Curie might see him, and the point was that the gift was a secret, hence the name “Secret Santa.” He could relay to the nearby Red Rocket, but that left him further to go, and more at risk of things breaking.

Decisions, decisions.

The Exchange

Shockingly, everyone had managed to get their gifts wrapped. Granted, some were better than others; Deacon still dominated with his perfect, sharp creases and hand-folded bow, where X6 might as well have just put his gift in a trash bag, but in the end it was the thought that counted.

Everyone had gathered in the newly established meeting hall of Sanctuary Hills, where sole had spent the last few days placing enough chairs and tables for everyone to be comfortable, as well as a few rugs to make the place feel cozy. They’d even made a fireplace appear out of nowhere, no easy feat, and with the settlers’ decorations it really did feel festive. Sole themself was seated by the fire, curled up with Dogmeat at their feet, and their eyes sparkled to see the gifts their friends had brought.

“Well, go on.” They waved their hands encouragingly. “Let me see what you did. I might be more excited than all of you are. Who’s going first?”

“It will be alphabetical,” Ada said, standing. “I will go first.”

She made her way to MacCready, who looked honestly surprised to see a gift appear in his lap.

“Ah, thanks. I’ll just, uh, open this.”

He tore into the paper and opened up the generic cardboard box, furrowed his eyebrows, and pulled out a series of small plastic jars.

“I have noticed you have an affinity for cooking,” she said. “I thought you might appreciate some new spices to try while on the road. It will be very difficult for you to break or spill them while traveling, as they are all in childproof containers.”

“That’s... surprisingly thoughtful.” He shook a container of dried parsley as if trying to figure out what it was. “Thanks.”

“Okay, my turn.” Cait clapped her hands and stood up. “Thanks for not changing your look again, Deacon. I’ll at least be able to find you.”

She dropped the box in his hands unceremoniously. “Don’t complain if it’s not somethin’ you want. You’re not the easiest guy to get a gift for.”

“Well, I appreciate the effort at least,” he said, peeling away the practically mangled wrapping. “If you ever want some lessons on wrapping paper, though, I’m happy to- oh.”

He pulled out a leather jacket, turning it around so that sole could see Cait had made the effort to track down the Atom Cats. A smile quirked his lips.

“Actually been looking at one of these for a while.” He gave Cait a real smile, this time. “Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it,” she huffed, clearly embarrassed. “I mean it.”

“Which brings us to me! Here you are, Mr. Hancock. One present, as promised.”

“It’s light,” Hancock commented wrily, shaking the box. “You didn’t get cheap on me, didja?”

“But of course not. I simply went for something more personal.”

“Personal?” He raised what was left of an eyebrow as he unceremoniously tore through the wrapping paper. “How did you manage that little trick?”

Codsworth waved an arm dismissively. “I have my ways.”

“Well, shit, I guess you do.”

He pulled the lighter out twirled it in his fingers and gave it an experimental light. It flicked on with ease.

“I guess you refilled it too, huh? That’s really somethin’.”

“So that’s why you drug me out to Dunwich Borers,” sole said, laughing. “I knew something was up.”

“Certainly not,” Codsworth replied, but his tone betrayed that if he could have laughed, he would have.

“Ah, I suppose that means it is my turn, non?” Carefully, Curie picked her way over to Gage. “Happy holidays, Monsieur.”

“Thanks, I guess.” He took it uncertainly. “This isn’t a bomb or anything, is it?”

“Of course not!” She sounded genuinely offended. “It is a gift, and not one that is easy to procure.”

“Just bein’ careful.” He still shook out the can more carefully than was probably necessary.

“Bug spray,” she explained. “It should repel the overly large insects you so dislike.”

Gage actually looked surprised. “I.. shit. Thanks.” He turned his head to the wall, obviously embarrassed. “Whoever’s next...”

“That would be me.” Shockingly, Danse had actually ditched his power armor for the day, at sole’s request. “Here you are, Cait. I hope it proves useful to you.”

She seemed hesitant, but accepted wordlessly, peering into the box. There was silence for a long moment, then she said, “I thought you only knew how to mod energy weapons.”

“I made an exception. That should provide you with exceptional damage and a better rate of fire for your shotgun.”

Cait could only shake her head, say, “Thanks,” and wave for the next person to go.

Deacon took his cue and handed his gift off to Codsworth. “There you go, buddy. Happy holiday.”

“Mr. Deacon.” Codsworth sounded all too pleased. “I should have known.”

Deacon shrugged. “Don’t beat yourself up. At least you know you got what you wanted.”

“How thoughtful!” Codsworth turned to sole. “You needn’t search for a new feather duster any longer sir/mum.”

They nodded, impressed. “I had forgotten I was supposed to be looking for one. Good work, Deeks.”

“Hey, you’ve got a lot on your plate boss.” He shot them a quick set of finger guns. “I’m just helping out with the little stuff.”

There was silence for a long moment before sole said, “Gage, I think it’s you.”

“What, already? Alright.”

He stood up, and when he paused in front of Preston, the room froze. No one even dared to breathe as he handed off the box, waiting for the other shoe to drop. After all, Gage was the only person Preston seemed actively willing to shoot at any time. This could only mean a fight.

“Happy holidays, Garvey.” He almost sounded genuine.

Preston accepted, understandably cautiously. “Thanks, Gage. Happy holidays.”

But when the paper was off, and the box was opened, Preston’s hesitation vanished into thin air.

“How the hell did you even find this?” he breathed, slowly pulling the sword from its sheath. It glinted in the firelight.

“Ah, it was no big deal.” Gage’s face was smug, and he leaned back in his chair with confidence. “You guys shouldn’t leave important relics just sitting around.”

And to everyone’s surprise, especially Gage’s, Preston rose from his chair to offer Gage a handshake.

“Thanks,” he said. “For real.”

For a second time, Gage was stunned into silence before taking Preston’s hand and breathing, “Don’t mention it. That’s the game, right?”

Sole shot Gage a discreet thumbs-up as Preston settled back into his seat, and the poor guy could only nod.

“Well, ain’t that touching?” Hancock leaned over to pass off the small box to Danse, who had somehow ended up seated directly across the circle from him. “There ya go, crew cut. Don’t get your hopes up.”

Danse nodded. “I won’t.”

Sole shot Hancock a warning look as Danse carefully unwrapped it, and he winked in reply, as if to say, “Trust me.”

Danse quite literally choked.

As he pulled the chain out, the box fell from his hands, leaving the holotags in the open air. Sole gasped from their place by the fire, realizing exactly what Danse was holding, and Hancock let his smile widen.

“These should be on board the Prydwen,” he breathed, turning them over in his hands. “They should have been destroyed.” Teary eyes turned toward the mayor of Goodneighbor. “How did you...”

Hancock leaned closer to Danse, clearly enjoying his moment. “Well, it didn’t make much sense that they were on Maxson’s desk if they’ve got your name on ‘em. After all, they’re yours. What does he need them for?”

Danse leaned forward, too, pulling Hancock into a bone-crushing hug. “You could have died. If you had been caught...”

“But I wasn’t.” John Hancock truly looked like that cat who’d eaten the canary. “Happy holidays, Danse.”

“Thank you, John,” Danse replied, and his tone was sincere, without the hint of malice that usually accompanied any of his interactions with Hancock. “Happy holidays.”

Preston patted Danse’s shoulder as he let go, but still managed to shoot an impressed look across the circle at Hancock. Hancock made a peace sign at him, still grinning.

“Well, shoot,” MacCready said. “That makes me next, but I feel kinda stupid about my gift, now.”

He opted to deposit the clearly heavy box at X6′s feet instead of in his lap. It was by far the largest gift, and shockingly neat in its wrapping. He dusted his hands, said, “It’s heavy,” and returned to his seat.

“I admit that I have no clue what this is,” X6 said, prodding the box gently. “It looks too large to be fusion cells, which is what I thought it would be.”

MacCready smiled, just a little. “Maybe it’s a lot of fusion cells. Why don’t you find out?”

X6 carefully unwrapped the gift, and only just managed to open the box before his head shot up.

“Is this whole box full of them?”

“You betcha.”

“Holy shit,” he breathed. “I didn’t even know that was possible.”

Sole protested from the corner, “I can’t see what it is.”

“It’s snack cakes.” X6 held up a box indicatively. “They’re difficult for me to acquire, due to the Institute’s strict supervision of my diet, but a vice among gen three synths. I’ve never seen so many in one place.”

MacCready, to his credit, managed not to look too smug at the courser’s apparent wonder.

Nick stood. “Here you go, Piper. I suppose you know what it is. Here’s Ellie’s, while we’re at it, but you can open it later.”

She laughed and held out a hand to stop him from returning to his seat. He looked at her, bemused

“What’s so funny?”

She shook her head and reached under her chair to hand off her gift to him. “Some luck, huh? Happy holidays, Nick.”

He chuckled and shook his head. “Some luck, indeed. Happy holidays, Piper.”

They opened at the same time, Piper saying, “Oh, this is a new one,” at the same time Nick said, “Well, how classy.”

They held their gifts up in sync for sole to see, though Piper was still reading the label of her perfume.

“Citrus, huh? This’ll be nice for a change of pace. I haven’t had anything citrus-y before.”

“It’s been a while since I got a new black tie,” Nick replied, examining it. “I like the pattern. It’s subtle.”

“I can’t believe you both drew each other,” sole cut in, though they didn’t seem disappointed. “I bet you’d already planned to do gifts anyway.”

They nodded in unison.

“This does make things a little easier, though,” Piper said. “We didn’t have to set our own date this way.”

Sole shook their head. “Preston, we’re to you.”

“Sure. Here you go, Ada.”

“Thank you,” she said. “I have tried to predict what this would be, but had some difficulty, especially in the situation where you were the gift giver. I am curious, to say the least.”

“Well, I hope you like it.”

She cracked it open, albeit with some difficulty, before declaring. “This was not among the options I predicted.” She drew it from the box to examine it better. “How thoughtful. It even appears to be designed to work in tandem with my current storage.”

“That’s the idea. I know it’s not much, but I hope you can at least get some use from it.”

“To the contrary. You designed this yourself, and took the time to create it. I can see you’ve even stitched my initials along the straps, as well as the initials of those formerly in my caravan. The details and the effort make it quite touching.”

Preston knew Ada well enough to know that he had gotten the best possible response, emotion-wise, and turned to X6 with everyone else.

“Well, you all already know who this is for.” He carefully passed the box over to Curie, who beamed.

“Merci.”

He nodded, not entirely coldly, and she began to remove the paper with a surgeon’s precision, letting out a gasp when she’d opened the box.

“Oh, Monsieur! This is- I have not seen such fine materials since before the war. Where did you find them?”

“They’re top quality, designed for Institute scientists.” A hint of pride lingered in his voice. “I knew you would like them.”

“Yes, I like them very much! I cannot wait to work with new glassware again, it has been so long.”

Sole sighed contentedly from their chair, drawing their attention. “I’m so proud of you guys. I knew it was a risk asking you to do this, but I’m glad you could put aside your differences, at least for a while. Honestly, this has gone better than I could have ever imagined.”

“Anything for you, General,” Preston replied. “You’ve been more than helpful in putting us on the right track.”

They shook their head. “I was happy to do it. It showed me you were all really trying, when I thought we’d be seeing nothing but boxes of ammo. You all went above and beyond, and for that, I salute you.”

They picked up their glass and raised it to the room, smile still lingering on their face. “To all of you, for taking the time and energy, both physical and emotional, to indulge me. I’m beyond proud to call you my friends, and more proud to call you my family.”

“Happy holidays, everyone.”

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13-reasons-ideas · 4 years ago

Text

Can’t Go Back Part 15

Neither of us knew how to continue that conversation, especially when we were upset. We sat in an awkward silence for a while. We both seemed to unconsciously know that we couldn’t have it productively or honestly if we were both still this upset. “I uh… I need to go finish an essay so Mr. Jensen can proofread it. I’ll be at the table if you need anything.”

“Okay. Do you want to be alone or…?”

“Doesn’t matter. You can watch tv or something if you want. I’ll be in the zone soon enough.” Monty nodded and awkwardly kissed the top of my head. I sent Justin a quick text, just to update him so he knew I was okay. I told him. We are going to talk about it when we are both in clearer headspaces. It took a few minutes for him to answer.

How did he take it?

He’s upset. I mean obviously he was upset. But he agreed that we need to talk about it when we can have a rational conversation. I’ll let you know how that goes. I spent the night writing essays and finishing up a couple of writing samples. At some point Monty came over and slowly pushed a bowl of yogurt, berries, and granola over to me silently before going back to the couch. I accepted it silently. I looked at the clock a while after I finished my yogurt and yawned loudly. It was just before midnight. I saved my work, stood, and walked over to the couch. Monty didn’t seem to be watching anything exactly. More just… looking at the screen.

“Are you coming to bed?” I asked timidly, pulling the sweater I grabbed an hour or two ago around me.

“Are you sure you want me there? I’m fine on the couch.”

“No, I do.” I nodded. He nodded back and turned off the tv. I held my hand out to him and he took it gently. He seemed unsure if this was something I really wanted or not. I smiled and squeezed softly. For the first time in days, together we went and got ready for bed. I put on another one of his t-shirts while he brushed his teeth and crawled into bed. He joined me a few minutes later. When he didn’t pull me closer to him, I curled up against his side and laid my head on his chest. All is not forgiven but I really need the sleep. He ran his fingers through my hair. If you didn’t know what had transpired in the last few days, it would seem like we were simply going to bed like we had every other night since we got married.

“Night night Monty.” I muttered, halfway to what I hoped would be a peaceful slumber.

“Night night Addison.” He replied. For the first time since Wednesday night, I slept soundly through the night.

In the days that followed, it was much of the same as Sunday afternoon. We danced around each other at home. We were short but cordial at school with each other. Refusing to say more than single- or double-word answers unless necessary, spending as little time together before or after class as we could, and keeping quiet at lunch may have raised a few of our friend’s brows. They didn’t comment on it if they noticed though. It was uncomfortable. We may have been used to hiding and keeping quiet at school but that didn’t make it any easier. The whole point of telling people was to not need to do this anymore.

Monty pulled me aside after lunch on Tuesday. “I told Coach I have an extra PT appointment today because my knee has been stiff. Are you okay to talk after school?”

I stopped to think for a moment. Am I ready? I’ll take anything over this awkward silence and wedge between us. Even if I’m scared. At least he’s taking initiative to deal with it. “Uh, yeah. After school works for me. I’ll see you at home?”

“Okay.” I adjusted my bag and hurried off to class. This is going to be a very interesting afternoon. I tried my best to focus on my work, but my mind wouldn’t stop going over the possibilities of what could happen tonight.I don’t want this to be another screaming match. This could devolve so quickly. Am I ready to deal with him refusing to take responsibility again? What if I’m wrong? What if he really is ready to try and fix this? Maybe it could go well. It’s going to suck either way. But maybe if we have an adult conversation, we can move on and things can get back to normal faster. What if…?

Monty beat me home. Mr. Porter called me into his office during last period to give me a couple of documents to send along with my college applications. As a result, I was running late to get home. I burst through the door, clutching the files to my chest so they didn’t fly everywhere in my haste to get inside. “Hey, sorry I’m late. Porter had to give me some paperwork and I had some questions about it. Took a little longer than I expected.” I huffed.

“No problem. Get everything you need?”

“Yeah. I’ll stop at my parents place later this week to scan it all.”

“Sounds good.” I set my papers on the island and went to sit on the couch. Pulling the blanket around me, I settled in for what could be a very long night.

“Do you understand why I’m upset?” I asked when he joined me on the couch.

“I think so.”

“Can you explain why you think I’m upset?”

“You’re upset that I didn’t communicate with you enough?”

“I mean, yes. That is part of why I’m upset. But it’s not the only reason.”

“I think you’re upset because you know that” he paused and thought about it. “You’re upset because I acted without thinking about the consequences. And it’s impact on you and our relationship.” Wow. He was listening.

“Y-yes. You have it mostly right.”

“Mostly?”

“I’m also upset because I know you know better than to do that. I’m upset that it seems to be becoming a pattern. We’ve talked about it before. I have no problem with you going out with the boys and doing stuff. I don’t even really have a problem with you drinking a little. I have a problem with it when you come home trashed, and I have to clean up the mess.” I reached out and took his hand on mine. We are in this together. No matter what. We are a team.

“I know. It’s just… you know I’m not exactly used to having to answer to someone.”

“I know. But at some point, that stops being an acceptable reason. At some point you have to own up and accept responsibility for your actions.”

“I know I’m responsible for my actions Addison.” He seemed to be getting upset now. I didn’t want this to turn into another blow up fight.

“Hey, I never said you didn’t know that. But there is a difference between knowing that you are responsible and accepting responsibility.” He didn’t respond so I continued. “This is becoming a more frequent thing and it’s concerning. When I say that you need to accept responsibility, I’m not trying to attack you or say that you think your behaviour is okay. I’m sorry if that’s how it comes off.” He didn’t respond again. I watched him look into his lap. “I need you to say something. We can’t have a conversation about this and fix things if you aren’t going to contribute.”

“I don’t know what you want me to say Addison.”

“I don’t want you to say any specific thing. I want you to contribute to our conversation. I don’t want to just sit here and talk at you. I don’t want to sit and just tell you how I feel. I want you to tell me how you feel.”

“I feel like I really screwed up.”

“Okay. That’s something. What else?”

“I don’t know. And I don’t know how to fix this.”

I decided to take a risk. “Do you want to fix this?” He whipped his head up instantly.

“Of course, I want to fix this. What kind of question is that?”

Okay, maybe that was too much too fast. “It was just a question. I know you want to fix this.”

“Why are you so concerned about this?”

“About you overdrinking when you go out with your friends?”

“Yeah.”

“Because you’re better than this Montgomery. I know you are. And you don’t communicate with me when you do. It’s like you’re trying to hide it. The fact that you don’t seem to see this as a problem is also worrying.”

“I’m not trying to hide anything. I just don’t check my phone that often with the guys, you know that.”

“I do. But any other time you’re with them, you tell me where you are or when you think you’ll be home. And you tell me when you’re leaving. The only time you don’t is when you do something that you think would upset me.”

“I never noticed that.”

“I didn’t think you did. That’s why I’m mentioning it.”

“Okay.”

“It also worries me that you really only do it when you’re with certain friends.”

“You mean Bryce?” He asked, raising a brow.

“Yes. When you’re out with pretty much any of your other friends, you don’t act like that.” He huffed out a laugh.

“And it all comes back to Bryce.” He muttered.

“Apparently yes. Since he seems to be the common denominator when we talk about this. And I haven’t spent enough time with your other friends to know otherwise.”

“He isn’t this horrible person that you think he is Addison.”

“Well, that may be true to some degree, but he’s not this amazing guy you make him out to be. He encourages you to do things that you know aren’t in your best interest.”

“You mean aren’t good for you.”

“No. I don’t. You know that when you drink like that, it causes problems between us. You know that when he’s around you act differently. I mean, you said yourself that it was probably a good idea not to tell him about us when we were considering who to tell about our relationship. If he was as good a guy you think he is, why would you say that? If you’re as close to him as you say you are, why wouldn’t you want him knowing about me? You were more than happy to tell Scott about us as soon as we told Justin. But not Bryce. That isn’t strange to you?”

“Bryce and I don’t have the same kind of friendship that Scott and I do. We don’t talk about important stuff.”

“Uh huh. Okay. We’ll go with that one.”

“I told you before I’m not going to stop being friends with him.”

“I don’t expect you to. I just think you need to think about the kinds of people you want to surround yourself with.”

“Addison. Your best friend is a recovering heroin addict who abandoned you for months. You don’t really have room to be passing judgement about who I choose to surround myself with.” My mouth fell open and I stared at him. I cannot believe he just said that.

“Excuse me.”

“Tell me I’m wrong.”

“That isn’t fair. That isn’t fair and you know it.”

“How is it not fair?”

“Because unlike you, Justin takes responsibility for his actions. Justin didn’t do it because his friends encouraged him to do it.”

“I don’t see the difference between what you said and what I said is.”

“The difference Montgomery is that I would say what I said to Bryce’s face. You would never say what you said to Justin’s face.”

“How do you know?”

“Because even though for some reason you seem to have forgotten this right now, I know you Montgomery. I know you better than I know myself. I know you wouldn’t.”

“Fine.”

“So is this how this is going to go? We were doing so well. We were having a mature conversation. And when I presented you with logical reasoning as to why I have a problem with the way your friend influences you, you hit me with that low of a blow?” He was quiet for a while. I huffed loudly and rolled my eyes. Honestly.

“I’m sorry.”

“Okay?”

“I’m sorry for what I said about Justin. It was out of line and it wasn’t fair. I know it’s not the same thing. I just… Bryce is my friend Addison. You can’t expect me to sit here and be okay with you telling me what an awful person you think he is. You don’t even know him.” It was my turn to be quiet. Maybe I was being unfair. I had never really spent a lot of time with Bryce, not that I wanted to. I mean, Justin was his best friend for a really long time. And giving him a chance wouldn’t mean I have to ignore all of the terrible things he has done. I wouldn’t have to be alone with him. A chance can’t hurt.

“Okay. I’m sorry too. He’s your friend. I’ll try to be nicer to him. I can’t make any promises though.”

“Thank you. If it makes you more comfortable, I can cut down on the time I spend with him.”

“I’ll think about it?” I still wasn’t super okay with the idea of telling him who he can and can’t be friends with.

“And I’m sorry that I took things too far when I was out Thursday night and it hurt you. When you told me that it scares you when I come home like that….” I didn’t urge him to go on. I knew it would come out eventually. Instead, I inched closer to him and held his hand a little tighter. I waited quietly until he was ready to proceed. “All of the sudden I was a little kid hiding in my closet from my dad again. I never…” he paused again, “I never wanted that for you. And I don’t want that to be what our kids go through. I don’t want them to be afraid of me. I don’t want you to be afraid of me.”

“I know. I never really realized that that was the reason I got so upset until I was talking to Justin. He called me out on trying to say that it was just a Bryce issue, when it’s not. Hey, can you look at me?” He looked up. “I’m not afraid of you. Not really. I know that you would never do anything to hurt me.”

“It’s hard to hear the woman you love. No, the person you love most in this world, tell you that you scare them.”

“I can imagine. Can I ask you something? You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to. If you do, I want you to be honest with me though, okay?”

“Go ahead.” He nodded.

“Is there something going on with you that you aren’t telling me about?”

“How do you mean?”

“I don’t know, just something. Is there a reason you pushed so far past your limit on Thursday?”

“No. I can honestly tell you that I just got carried away. And I will concede that Bryce and a few of the guys may have encouraged it.”

“Okay. If there is, you know you can talk to me about it, right?”

“I know. I promise to tell you if there is. And I promise I’ll be more aware of what I do and how much I drink when I go out.” I nodded to him and leaned over to kiss him on the cheek.

When I had a moment alone, I texted Justin. Hey, so we talked for a few hours after school. I think we are at least on the road to getting back to normal. We kind of laid it all out and we both have things we can work on. Thank you for helping me figure things out.

That’s good. I’m glad to hear it Addy. What are best friends for?

Stealing French fries off of at lunch?

Hahahahhaha I knew it was you.

No comment. I love you.

I love you too.

By Thursday, Monty and I were starting to feel more like ourselves. Things were still a little tense and they probably would be for a while. At least until some of the residual tension went away. I was getting undressed when Monty got out of the shower that morning. “Uh Addison?”

“Yes?” I was trying to put on my pants while simultaneously clawing at my arms.

“Two questions.”

“What?”

“One, why are you scratching at your arms like you’re itching to get your next fix? And two, what the hell is all over your back?”

“Stress rash.”

“Why do you have a stress rash?”

“Well, it could have something to do with fighting with my husband for almost a week.” So itchy. Make the itchy stop. “And that coupled with trying to get my college applications in on time for early admission, has made me a little stressed out.”

“Is there anything I can do to help?”

“I don’t know. I don’t think so. It should clear up after I get my applications done.”

“Okay….” He passed me a sweatshirt from the closet. “Here, this is loose. Or do you want one of my shirts?”

“This is good. Thank you.”

I took a cool shower when I got home and decided to work on getting my applications finished. The sooner they’re done, the sooner the rash will go away. I merely grunted when Monty got home. I was too focused on my computer. He chuckled to himself quietly and turned on the tv. “That’s my girl.” He muttered. I smiled softly. A few hours later, I had done it. All the early applications for my choice schools were complete. I just had to submit them. Finally.

“Done.” I said as I hit submit.

“What are you done?” Monty asked, swiveling his head.

“I just submitted my last early application.”

“That’s good. How do you feel?”

“Like my entire future is traveling at light speed and is now sitting in someone’s inbox.” I put my face in my hands and groaned. Monty chuckled. I couldn’t stop staring at my computer screen. I heard him open the fridge and grab something. “Are you doing what I think you’re doing?”

“No.”

“That’s communal food. And no sex jokes.”

“I’m not.” I heard him puttering around the kitchen, opening and closing drawers. “Do we have… never mind I found it.”

“Okay?” He didn’t respond and continued whatever he was doing. The sound of a plate being placed next to me made me jump. I looked up and Monty was grinning at me. He gestured towards the plate. He made me a sandwich. “Thank you.” I said softly.

“No problem.” He ruffled my hair and went to go sit back on the couch.

The next morning, I had Montgomery put some lotion on my back to soothe the itch while we were at school. He left little kisses down the back of my neck. I tried not to smile but I couldn’t help it. Things were still tense, even after our talk. I wasn’t sure I had completely forgiven him yet. We were still walking on eggshells around each other. This wasn’t an issue we could just sweep under the rug and pretend didn’t happen. Slowly though, our relationship was shifting back to normal. “Can you grab the cream cardigan out of the dryer when you’re in the kitchen please?”

“Sure.” While he was gone, I got dressed in black jeans and a maroon lace crop top. He whistled when he came back in. “Those should be at home jeans.” I rolled my eyes at him and he slapped my ass playfully.

“Monty!”

“What?” he shrugged, obliviously. I rolled my eyes and flipped him off. He chuckled to himself, knowing he couldn’t do anything. You got yourself into this. I slipped on a pair of black flats and grabbed my travel mug as we left the house.

Justin was waiting for us when we got to school. He had two cinnamon twists and a cup of tea from Monet’s with him. Apparently with my name on them. “A rather large birdy told me you had an important night last night.”

“Ooooo.” Garrison teased.

“No.” Monty ground out.

“I submitted my last early application for school last night.”

“Oh. Not ooo then. Jeeze Addy, had to go and make the rest of us look like slackers.”

“Well, I unfortunately don’t have schools calling and sending pamphlets begging me to attend their institutions. Some of us have to rely on academics to stand out.” The small group laughed around me. I hugged Justin as I took a chunk off the muffin. “Thank you. Now I just have to wait for responses.”

“How long will that take?” Bryce asked as he joined us.

“Too long.” I stated. Don’t want to be nice. Even though I promised I would try.

“O…kay.” The bell rang before I could say anything that would get me in trouble. I did catch Justin’s lip twitch though. He knew my expressions like the back of his hand.

Geography was easily the most boring class of the day for me. I usually didn’t participate much. Today however, I couldn’t stop myself. I don’t know if it was the stress or the fact that I had been running on fumes for the last week and a bit, but I couldn’t hold back my laughter when a student made a less than thought out comment.

“But Ms. Carlson. When my family and I were in Brazil this summer, the Spanish sounded different.” Carter said. Oh my. I tried so hard not to laugh but it just bubbled out. And once it started, it wasn’t stopping. People turned to look at me. Zach and Bryce looked at me like I had officially lost it.

“I… I’m sorry. I-it’s not you Carter.” I started. “I submitted my last college application last night and,” I paused again to try to catch my breath, “my stress level has been just a little high.” I paused yet again and took a deep breath. “The reason the Spanish sounded ‘funny’ is because it’s not fucking Spanish.” He looked at me funny. “It’s Portuguese.”

“No. It’s Spanish.”

“No. It’s not.”

“Yes, it is. Ms. Carlson?”

“It’s Portuguese. Brazil was colonized by Portugal Carter.” Ms. Carlson told him.

“Oh.” I had finally caught my breath.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to laugh. I get a little loopy when I get stressed.”

“No, it’s okay Addy.” He nodded to me.

I relayed the story of the Geography incident to our friends at lunch. The boys, even Bryce and Zach who witnessed it firsthand, found it absolutely hilarious.

“So, do you like, know any Portuguese?” Ryder’s girlfriend, Taylor, asked. Monty cleared his throat and grabbed my hand, squeezing. I turned to him, seeking permission, before answering. He nodded. I turned my attention back to the group.

“I can curse and that’s about it.”

“Oh?”

“Let’s just say there’s a reason I haven’t spoken to my father-in-law since before I married his son.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to overstep.”

“No, it’s okay.” I liked Taylor. She was nice. She wasn’t a cheerleader or overly pretentious. I could see myself being friends with her.

“We’ve talked about it and we are both comfortable with the situation.” Monty added.

“Can we get that story sometime?” Connor asked.

“You have to tell them.” Scott said.

“They need to hear it.” Charlie and Justin agreed.

“Maybe one day.” I smirked.

11 notes · View notes

builtonashes · 5 years ago

Text

Water Me

Here it is! My most recent Heartman/Reader fanfiction. Yes, it’s fluffy and cute, I just can’t seem to write anything else for our lovable scientist. I hope you enjoy!

This time it’s an answer to a prompt by @mygoldenmile - I hope you like it hun! 💖

Pairing: Reader / Heartman

Rating: T

Word count: 3,629

AO3 link: here

„I can’t take this anymore. I’ve just about had enough.”

Sam eyed you carefully from above the plate, sitting on the opposite side of the table. You were at Heartman’s, enjoying a meal you prepared for yourself, the porter and the scientist. Even though you had the best intentions and planned to make this a peaceful experience, somehow you felt irritated and on edge since the very morning. Sam was definitely surprised to see that side of you.

„What do you mean?”, he asked, his mouth full of curry.

„I mean I’ve been doing everything for him. Like, going out of my way so that it would be at least a little easier for him. And what do I get in return? Him smiling at this biologist with little hearts in his eyes. Talking to her in this sweet voice. And don’t even get me started about inviting her over for tea.”

Sam blinked twice, obviously trying to process what you just said. You knew that what you were saying didn’t make much sense, but you just had to get it out of your system. Even if it mean making Sam uncomfortable for a while.

„You’re jealous,” he stated matter-of-factly, putting his spoon away for a moment. „Right?”

You sighed and shifted uncomfortably at the table. Of course you were.

„Yes I am, Sam! I’ve been there for him all this time and… well, it looks like he didn’t even notice.”

„I’m sure that’s not true.”

„Well, I wouldn’t be feeling so… like this if he did.”

Sam sighed and a little smile lit up his face. Even in your state you had to admit it wasn’t something you could see often.

„Listen,” he said after a while, reaching for his cup of tea. „I think we both know that Heartman adores you. The way he speaks about you, I don’t think I’ve ever heard anyone give someone that much praise. And he’s very sweet around you too. If you… you know… want more than that, why don’t you just tell him?”

You suddenly felt a little out of breath. How could Sam know exactly what you felt even without you realizing it in the first place?

„I… I don’t want him to be uncomfortable.”

„How could anyone be uncomfortable knowing that somebody cares about them a lot?”

He did have a point. Still, you knew Heartman was a very fragile human being, not only in terms of his health. He lost everything he once had, his entire family gone in a void out that killed hundreds, if not thousands of people. You knew how hurt he was, you were there when it was the worst. But then, slowly but surely, he started coming out of his shell. One day he told you that he was ready to move on, that he wasn’t going to look for his family any longer. You were both sad and happy for him. Sad, because you knew how much he had to give up and how hard it must have been for him. Happy, because you wanted him to grow. You wanted him to enjoy life to the fullest, you wanted to see a smile on his face and you didn’t want it to be underlined with never-ending sadness.

And somehow you thought you would be his first choice. That it would only be natural for you two to get closer. Hell, you were sure you did. Until he told you about this wonderful, smart woman he met during one of the BRIDGES meetings, someone who was supposed to help with some research. The worst part was, she was actually nice and you couldn’t blame him for wanting to spend more time with her.

Except it made your heart hurt like hell.

You couldn’t exactly remember when it was exactly that you fell for him. Was it when he laughed during a phone call and you noticed how warm his true laugh was for the first time? Was it when you were working together and he nudged your leg with his, trying to prevent you from falling asleep? Was it when he hugged you after not seeing you for a week, burying his face in the crook of your neck and staying like this for a little while longer than usual? You had no idea, it was so hard to pinpoint the exact moment in time when you realized how important he really was to you.

Maybe it was all those situations at once.

„I don’t know,” you said, really at a loss. „I think that me telling him how I feel might make him uncomfortable because he doesn’t feel the same way.”

„You mean you’re worried he doesn’t love you back?”

You felt a sharp pull in your chest at these words. Love. Of course you knew you loved him. You were just afraid of calling it what it was in case you ended up hurt and broken.

„I… I think so, Sam. I think I’m afraid of rejection. And as much as I’m tired of pretending that my heart doesn’t do a somersault every time he talks to me, him being uncomfortable around me would be the last thing I ever wanted.”

Sam nodded, focusing his eyes on the plate in front of him. You could almost see the gears turning in his head while he was processing all this.

„But isn’t it more important now than it ever was? I mean, look at this world. Everything is falling apart. Hell, even if we survive long enough to grow old, isn’t it better to be honest with each other? Especially with the people we care about?”

Once again, he did have a point. You knew it. But you were so scared.

„You might be right. On the other hand, if he felt this way about me too, wouldn’t he have told me? Or, I don’t know, made it obvious in some other way?”

„Ha, like you told him, right?”

„Hey, there’s no need to be rude!”

„I’m not being rude. I’m trying to make you understand that in this time and place, you should make sure that people who are important to you know how you feel without a doubt. Because you never know what’s going to happen tomorrow.”

You sighed. When exactly did he turn so wise?

„I know, Sam. I know you’re right. Deep in my heart, I do. But I can’t just approach Heartman and tell him that I love him, that he’s the most incredible person I’ve ever met and that every second I spend away from him hurts me physically because I miss him so much. I don’t think he’d want to hear that, especially if he has… plans in regard to the biologist.”

„And what if he doesn’t? What if he’s just nice?”

„I’ve never seen him being that nice to anyone.”

„I have. Whenever I’ve seen him with you.”

You opened your mouth to speak but no words came out. You actually had no idea what to say. God, Sam was right. You knew that and you really wanted to believe him. But this little seed of doubt, this little dark spot would steal the sunshine away whenever you started thinking that this might actually work. You knew Heartman well enough. You didn’t want to be in the way.

„I guess it’s time to clean up,” you said getting up from the table, desperate to end this conversation. „Heartman will be up in a minute and we have to get back to work.”

„Sure,” Sam also stood up, putting his plate in the dishwasher. „Just… please, don’t worry about it too much. I don’t like seeing you like this. I’m worried.”

You smiled. Sam was a really good friend.

„I won’t,” you said after a while, trying to hold back tears welling up in your eyes. „I promise.”

***

The evening approached fast and you were soon done with your work, stretching behind the table you were working at and glancing at Heartman. He sent a warm smile your way, putting his tablet away.

„I see you’re done with your work,” he spoke softly as always. „Would you mind joining me for a cup of tea before you leave?”

You sighed. You were never able to say no to him. Especially since you had to go back to your shelter soon and you won’t be able to see him for the next few days.

„Sure,” you tried to make your voice sound as flat as possible, not wanting to show too much excitement over a simple invitation. „Let me pack this up and I’ll be upstairs in a moment.”

You always had tea in one of the rooms upstairs, the one with the most incredible view over the entire lake and some of the snowy mountains. Ever since Heartman’s heart has been fixed with a transplant he was no longer dying every twenty one minutes, but his body was still recovering and trying to get used to the changes. He still needed to rest every few hours not to put too much strain on himself. You were already used to his napping and meds schedule and even though it was pretty tedious, you had to admit it was much better than watching him die over and over again to be brutally brought back by a portable AED.

So you packed away your things, left your backpack in Heartman’s room and slowly went upstairs, not really knowing what to expect. When you sat down on the floor among soft cushions and right next to a short coffee table, Heartman was already there, pouring you a cup of something that smelled vaguely of roses.

„What tea is this?” You asked, lifting the teacup to your face and inhaling the scent.

„White tea with rose petals,” he answered, excitement obvious in his face, „I got it especially for you. I remember how you said you wanted to try white tea.”

You felt a pinch in your chest. You mentioned in once, not even being too serious about it, and here he was, serving you the tea that must have been incredibly expensive given the circumstances. He wouldn’t have done that if you weren’t important for him. Right? Right?

You chased the train of thought away and took a sip of the drink. It was very mellow, a little sweet, with a subtle hint of something resembling mint. Or was it chamomile? You couldn’t really tell but the taste was incredible.

„It’s delicious,” you said after a while. „Thank you. You shouldn’t have.”

„Of course I should have. You help me with so much around here and I rarely do anything for you. This was the least I could do, Y/N.”

You laughed. He was going to be the death of you.

„Well then, forget what I said after the thank you”.

He smiled at you too, curling the left corner of his lips upwards just slightly, barely showing his teeth. You adored his smile. God, you adored all of him.

„The truth is,” he spoke after a while, breaking the sweet silence between the two of you, „I wanted to talk to you about something. And I… figured I might do that today, you know.”

This surprised you.

„What do you mean?”

„I mean, I haven’t been entirely honest with you. And it occurred to me that I should have been. But I am… I just…”

You had no idea what he was trying to say. Suddenly you felt a giant lump form in your throat, spreading downwards fast and nestling in your stomach.

„You just…?”

„Well, as I already told you, I decided to move on with my life. Quite a while ago, for that matter. But I was never ready to take that… next step. A leap of faith, if you will. But… so much has changed ever since I made that decision. I have grown to see the world around me a little differently. And I suddenly realized that… uh…”

Oh God. You could feel it. There was so much worry in his eyes that he was definitely going to say something that would hurt you.

Well, it did have to happen sooner or later.

„I’m happy for you,” you blurted out, not even letting him finish. „I really am. You deserve everything that’s best in this world.”

His expression changed then, turning into mild curiosity mixed with worry and hesitation.

„Uh, I don’t think I understand.”

„Oh, but you do. I could see it coming for weeks. You like her, don’t you? You should go for it. I think she likes you too. You’ll be happy together.”

His expression turned to puzzled for a while, but apparently he caught on fast and actually started laughing. You almost felt like punching him in the face.

„I’m sorry,” he said, trying to contain his laughter a little. „But I just realized what that might have sounded like. No, that’s not what I wanted to tell you. I wanted to tell you that I finally realized that I should take the last step towards a new, real life. A life with you.”

You blinked and then frowned. You must have heard wrong.

„Excuse me?”

„Well…” he continued coyly, suddenly moving closer to you. „I’m not proud of what I did, but there was no time for me to react. I overheard a part of your conversation with Sam today.”

You felt like somebody just snatched a rug you were standing on right from under your feet.

„Wh… which part?”

„Uhh, all of it.”

You opened your mouth to say something, but no sound came out. You were so surprised that for a moment you even forgot that you had to breathe. What did he mean by all of it?

„Heartman, I…”

„I know,” he said, obviously almost as stressed as you. „I know I shouldn’t have. But when I heard you tell Sam that you loved me, I just… at first I thought I was still dreaming.”

„What the hell are you talking about?”

Heartman sighed and moved even closer, pressing his thigh against yours on the floor and taking your hand in his. You were so touched by this gentle gesture that it almost brought tears to your eyes.

„Y/N, I have been in love with you ever since I met you. I didn’t realize it at first, but as we grew closer together I just couldn’t help it. Your kindness, your selflessness, even the humor you would usually use to cover up your true feelings… I loved all of it. And spending time with you, even if it was just a few minutes every week. I waited for those moments, counting down hours, minutes and seconds until I see you again. And then when you were here, I just… I couldn’t say it. There was something stopping me from telling you the truth. Maybe it was fear, maybe it was the feeling that you didn’t feel the same way, or maybe…”

You sighed and reached upwards with your right hand, placing it on his cheek.

God, you were both so stupid.

„I thought you needed space,” you said, interrupting what he was saying. „I didn’t want to make you feel… uncomfortable. I figured that even if I could just be your friend, that would be enough. But I… I always wanted more. I knew you needed time to come to terms with everything that happened, but I… I was drawn to you. I still am.”

He smiled and leaned into your touch, placing his own hand on your neck.

„You know, I never actually thought that you’d want me,” he whispered, pressing his forehead against yours. „I didn’t think I was worthy of love. Especially yours.”

„But why wouldn’t you be? Heartman, you’re the epitome of lovable. You’re sweet, you’re caring, you’re smart. And you’re so strong. How could I have not fallen in love with you?”

He chuckled, his warm breath ghosting your lips.

„Do you really think that? About me?”

„Yes. You’re the most incredible person I ever met. But you already know that because of that conversation you overheard.”

„I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to!”

„Yeah right. I’m sure this wasn’t the first time you did that.”

„It was, I swear!”

You nuzzled his nose with yours, trying to absorb his warmth as much as you could. He really did feel this way about you. Looks like Sam was right after all.

He reached out and placed both hands on your cheeks, absent-mindedly caressing them with his thumbs.

„Heartman?” You said, almost as if trying to make sure that he was still there.

„I’m here,” he said, hands never leaving your face. „I’m just… overwhelmed. Every single moment I spent with you shaped me into who I am now. I was a husk of a human when we met, clinging to the dead with so much desperation it hurts to think about it now. But you… being around you made me feel alive again. Made me feel like there was something worth living for.”

You didn’t want to listen anymore. You didn’t want to start crying in front of him. So you did what you thought best at that moment; you pressed your lips against his in a heated kiss, hoping that it wouldn’t be too much for him.

He inhaled sharply, obviously surprised with this gesture, but melting into it nevertheless. It made you shiver and his touch covered your skin in goosebumps, every single brush of his fingers leaving a searing spark in its wake. You wanted to control yourself, to be gentle about this, but you couldn’t help it; you wanted him so fucking much.

You pressed against him a little more and bit his lower lip, trying to get him to open his mouth. He complied eagerly, letting out a soft moan that was like music to your ears. He was here, with you, and he was making these noises for you. You never wanted him to stop.

Sliding your tongue into his mouth you couldn’t believe how eager he was to kiss you back. His hands found their way to your back, moving up and down against your spine. You could feel the overwhelming smell of his cologne; he always used the same one and you have grown to associate the smell with him and him alone. Now you could almost taste it on his skin, breaking the kiss and pressing your lips against the crook of his neck. It was intoxicating, exhilarating - and it was so Heartman that just thinking about him, there, with you made your head spin and your mind go completely blank.

„I love you so much,” he whispered, placing soft kisses against your collarbone. You ran a hand through his hair, kissing the top of his head. „I love you so much, Y/N.”

„I love you too,” you sighed, eyes closed, breath still labored. „I really do.”

He pulled away from you then, just to look you in the eyes and smile again. When he dove in for another kiss you met him halfway.

You didn’t protest when he pushed you to the cushions on the floor, his kisses becoming more passionate and his hands sliding under your shirt. You moaned into his mouth, the heat almost unbearable where your bodies were touching. You wanted him so badly. You had to admit you thought about this many times - him kissing you, him pinning you to the bed… well, the floor would have to do this time, but the underlying connotations were exactly the same.

He explored your body inch by inch, following the trail of his fingers with subtle nips of his lips. As much as you wanted to just submit to every single ministration of his, you did have to watch his health. You knew this could have been too much too soon. And just thinking about having to stop this was heartbreaking.

„Heartman,” you whispered, sitting up a little to be able to face him. „Stop. Please.”

Seeing him flushed, his eyes half-lidded and cloudy with passion, you almost gave back in. But you knew better. It was about him and there was nothing more important than him.

„You… don’t like it?”

„I love it. That’s why we have to stop. You’re not well enough to… you know.”

„Have sexual intercourse?”

You couldn’t understand why you felt yourself blush.

„Yes. You’re too weak for that. It could be too… overwhelming.”

He sighed loudly and buried his face in your hair, nuzzling your neck at the same time.

„I know. I just… wasn’t sure I could stop. Thank you.”

„Don’t thank me for things like that. It was awful.”

You both laughed as you rolled over and laid back on the floor, facing each other and smiling softly.

„Do you think you could stay here tonight?”

You pressed your forehead against his and kissed the bridge of his nose.

„I think I could. If you make breakfast.”

„Oh, I’d love to. You’ll see, it’s going to be the best breakfast you ever had.”

You turned around and placed a hand on his cheek again. The way he was looking at you almost melted your heart.

„Heartman, I’m not that demanding. I can just eat a sandwich.”

„Nonsense! You’re my guest of honor and you’ll be treated as such.”

„What did I do to deserve such an honor?”

He placed a kiss on your cheek and smiled again, making your knees weak.

„You just made me the happiest man in this entire world.”

You couldn’t help the smile forming on your lips and the warmth pooling your chest.

Happiest man in the world, huh.

You could live with that.

#heartman #heartman x reader #death stranding #death stranding imagine #death stranding x reader #request #mygoldenmile

128 notes · View notes

hermannsthumb · 5 years ago

Note

Number 92 on the winter and prompt list doesn't scream winter to me but it just seems so perfect for your writing style I like desperately need to see it!! Pretty please!

92. we used to date years ago and run into each other at our hometown bar and damn, you look better than ever, are you single? let’s make out

from winter writing prompts here

GOD this one was so fun!!!!

--------------------------------

If Hermann believed in fate, he might say that was the reason why—after a long, tiring day at his chalkboards, and a long, tiring afternoon navigating through metro snow delays and crowded buses just to get even a few blocks from his flat—he made the spur of the moment decision to pop into a very particular pub for dinner. It was uncharacteristic of Hermann for a handful of reasons. Hermann rarely eats out. Hermann rarely eats out at pubs. Hermann has leftovers waiting for him in his refrigerator at home, a home which was no more than a ten minute walk away from the pub (fifteen, once you allowed for snow).

But his day had been tiring, after all. And the snow was coming down quite hard, and Hermann was quite cold, and his leg was getting stiff, and the pub looked terribly warm and inviting.

It is on the inside, too. If not a bit grimy.

Hermann’s server helps him out of his parka (despite Hermann’s assurances that it really isn’t necessary), brings him a pint of some holiday porter, and hovers over him while he flips through the dinner menu. “I recommend the stew,” she says. Hermann wonders how many times a day her contract requires her to say that. “It’s our specialty.”

“Mm,” Hermann says. He adjusts his glasses and turns a page. Across the pub, at a small stage Hermann noticed when he walked in, someone strikes up a song on an acoustic guitar. Hermann pauses. He’s not quite sure why.

His server notices. “We have open mics for local musicians,” she says. “This guy’s pretty good. He comes in about twice a week.”

Hermann can’t see the musician from here—he’s blocked by a wooden column—but his voice sounds terribly familiar. He shuts the menu. “I think I’d prefer a seat over there, if you wouldn’t mind.”

They relocate his pint and parka to a booth off to the side of the stage, and Hermann orders the first thing off the menu (a reuben and fries) so he can be left in peace to squint at the musician. It takes about three seconds to place him.

Newton Geiszler—Hermann’s old grad school lab partner, and more importantly, Hermann’s old boyfriend. He’s older now, of course, scruffier, his face less round, various piercings and pink hair streaks gone, more tattoos, but there’s no mistaking those perpetually crooked glasses or that perpetually messy brown hair. Nor that singularly...unique voice. It’s as if ten years and a mere ten days have passed simultaneously. It’s dizzying.

Newton is even more attractive now than he was back then. That’s dizzying, too.

Naturally, Hermann knocks his glass over.

It shatters on the floor. A few people around Hermann startle and laugh; Newton’s guitar playing comes to an abrupt halt; Hermann panics and ducks. When (blushing brilliantly, and clenching soaked napkins and a few larger shards of glass) he finally emerges from under the table, it’s to Newton looking as if he’s seen a ghost.

Hermann waves weakly.

“Uh,” Newton squeaks. It echoes in the microphone. He shakes his head. “Sorry!” he says. “Let me just—”

He finishes up the song, and—after a long, lingering glance at Hermann that has Hermann’s blush spreading to his ears—launches into another one even more familiar. Hermann thinks Newton may have played it one or two times for him, the girls switched out for boys just as he’s doing now. It’s...embarrassing, but also not unwelcome.

Eventually Hermann’s server returns with his food and a broom for the shattered glass, and Hermann finds an excuse to dodge Newton’s piercing gaze to make his apologies with her instead. “I’m terribly sorry,” he says. “I didn’t mean—”

“No worries,” she says with a practiced smile. “Do you want another drink to make up for it?”

“Ah,” Hermann says, “it’s really—”

“Make it two,” Newton says, tossing his guitar and a leather jacket into the seat across from Hermann and following. He must’ve finished his set without Hermann realizing. “On my tab.”

Hermann’s sever nods and walks off with the dustpan. Newton, meanwhile, gives Hermann a smile of his own. It’s still as breathtaking a sight as Hermann remembers—and Hermann remembers well. (Newton could always make butterflies erupt in Hermann’s stomach with a single brush of hands.) “Long time no see, dude.”

“A very long time,” Hermann agrees.

Hermann was not exaggerating about the decade. He met Newton when he was twenty-three, Newton twenty-two, and they were in the same engineering class for their respective Masters programs. The alphabetical nature of the roster ensured they would be assigned to work as lab partners for the entire semester. Mandatory laboratory work led to less-mandatory studying sessions, and then voluntary movie nights, and then purely self-indulgent necking everywhere from the lumpy couch in Newton’s flat to the physics department after hours. He was entirely infatuated with Newton.

Their explosive bickering caught up with them eventually, of course, and no amount of guitar serenades and kisses could make up for that, so when Newton completed his MA and applied for a PhD elsewhere Hermann did not follow.

Now a very, very shallow part of him, a part of him which is screaming about the biceps revealed by Newton’s t-shirt and his very, very tight jeans, was wishing he had. “You look, like, amazing,” Newton says. He laughs, disbelieving. “I almost didn’t recognize you. No mistaking that haircut, though. Still doing it yourself?”

“Ha,” Hermann says.

They receive their drinks before Hermann has to admit that, yes, he is. Newton starts on his fast; Hermann elects to simply run his finger along the rim of his own glass and study him. He was wrong about all the piercings—there are two black studs in Newton’s ears. There is, however, a distinct lack of a wedding ring on Newton’s left hand. Interesting. “You look very well, too,” Hermann says. “I enjoyed your playing.” He always did, back then.

“Aw, thanks,” Newton says. His face splits into another smile; there’s beer foam above his upper lip that Hermann longs to wipe off. “Yeah, I come in here every once in a while. It’s a good break from work ‘n shit. Plus, I always get awesome tips.”

“I’d imagine,” Hermann murmurs before he can help himself.

Newton stares.

Hermann clears his throat. “You, ah, moved back after all, then?” he says, louder. The same part of him that wishes he’d trailed after Newton also wishes he’d known. Perhaps they could’ve met up earlier; perhaps Hermann could’ve bought him coffee; perhaps Newton would’ve invited him to one of his shows.

“Sure did,” Newton says. “I kinda missed it. Lots of good memories, you know? And they were looking for a bio professor, and I was looking for a job, and it just seemed, like, perfect.” He shrugs, then reaches across the table and steals a fistful of Hermann’s fries. “You never left?”

Hermann nods. “I’ve been working in robotics nearby since I completed my PhD. Please don’t choke on those.”

Newton stops in his efforts to cram all the fries into his mouth at once and (sheepishly) settles into a more respectable half-fistful at a time. He swallows them down with more of his beer. “You look amazing,” he repeats, and sweeps his eyes over Hermann, drumming his fingers on the table. “Are you, like—are you seeing anyone? I know that’s weird to ask, but…”

The corner of Hermann’s mouth twitches up. “How very forward of you, Geiszler.”

“Hey, that’s Dr. Geiszler now, Dr. Gottlieb,” Newton says.

Hermann leans in and stills Newton—his tapping’s gone frantic. “I am not,” he says, and enjoys the way Newton lights up. “I was planning on asking you the same.” He squeezes Newton’s hand. “I was also planning on asking if you would consider taking me home so we may catch up properly.” He doesn’t intend for any innuendo, but if Newton wants...

Newton jumps to his feet and tosses his leather jacket on. “We should do that,” he says, quickly, and breathlessly. “We should—yes.”

#newmann #maria's fanfiction tag #Anonymous #the song newt serenades herm with is brown eyed girl (*boy) :)

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unikornu · 4 years ago

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🌹, 🍂, 💐, 🌺, 💫, ☄️ for Lucy? 🍁, 🌸, 💦 for Harrison?

Thank you kindly for the asks! Let’s go:

Lucy:

🌹 Where in the world does your OC feel most at home? Is there any reason why? If it’s not the place they were born, where were they born? Is there a certain somebody that makes them feel at home where ever they may be? What does home mean to them?

Home for Lucy is whenever she is sure no one from the fair distance and within same walls wants to stab her in her sleep. Nuka World under Harrison protection will be the most home-ish and safe place since also after the disciples wiping she did prove her worth and loyalty to the raider’s goals and now they no longer need to sleep with one eye open with Gage since Harrison is patrolling and staying up all nights and gang leaders might not have such a strong urge to betray her. Later eventually she will set up base back in Sanctuary in her mother’s home since they will need second solid base in Commonwealth and somewhere deep in the woods still lies a pre-war secret lab section that will be important for Harrison in order to understand the experiment and maintain his power as well as his body. A place where she can put down her guard, where she can sense presence of her boss and be sure Gage is also nearby will always be worth calling home but there are few places like this since later on her reputation will be more knowledgeable to wasteland folks and she will be on wanted list of sort.

So yeah what can i say...away from Nuka World home announcement for them would sound like so: A small blond lady along with a raider thug and tall grumpy old man looking for a warm cave to duck in without worry of being pitchforked by angry local settlers and half of the commonwealth. Ain’t many places they can call home, poor fuckers.

🍂 Does your OC enjoy hugs? What do they do as a show of affection for: their friends, their family, their significant other(s) or for strangers? Over all what are they like with receiving affection from others?

Oh she secretly loves hugs and affection of any kind but keeps in mind its better to leave them for very few and private moments. Besides how the hell that would make her look in society she is stuck with. Harrison and type of her job forced her to strip her mind from emotions as they were useless and making her weak but once the events calmed down they do come at peace and leave that part behind. With friends in public like Lizzie she will bump against their shoulder with a smile or chuckle, its safe in public and still reflects that she feels good in their company. With Harrison she will just bury herself in deep fatherly hug when gone for a few days, especially he is very tall and big so its like hugging a yao guai just in a brown thick coat. And because she never had a good father experience that hug will mean a world to them. With Gage she knows he has a hard time to be soft fucker but as the time goes on, the affection switches from small things, like checking his patch out and forcing to help taking care of his wounds too, not just hers, into letting down the bitch tough face and raider stiff attitude. Inviting him for the drink, just two of them, closing the distance and ending up just resting against his chest or sleeping hugged to his back. If the urge is strong and rules can go fuck themselves she will just charge at him and let all that sweet stuffed in her chest love drown him.

As for people who didn’t reach yet friend level any kind of touching contact which doesn’t involve knife is for her a way to show affection. Be it soft fist bump in their arm, fast shoulder shake or very split millisecond side hug. Hell, even if she smiles at them its already a good sign, and in a humane soft manner, not the smirky bitch one. If her resting bitch face goes away its already a fantastic sign and promising future she won’t stab them later on.

💐 How does your OC handle being unwell or forced to rest in bed? Who cares for them and in what ways? Does your OC enjoy being doted on or are they a terrible patient? Reversed: is your OC good at taking care of others who are ill or in need?

If you tell her to do that when there is shiet to be done and there almost always is in her mind you will see a constant middle finger, raised from the bed and the moment you turn around or leave she will be gone, sneaking away to get at least her knife and try to leave outside. She was raised to fulfill mission, no matter what so a stupid cold or broken bone is suppose to nail her in place. Fuck no, she can’t right? She can’t be that weak even if pain sweats her eyes. Gage learns slowly her urges as with each park taken he sees her taking extreme solutions to many situations, not thinking about possible bad outcomes so when the really bad cold catches her or she got badly wounded again he will be the one yelling at her to stop that shit. Aside from usual care like shoving injections or closing wounds and occasional cooking he will be constantly ensuring her that she can close both eyes shut and get an actual restful sleep, that he is on the watch and nothing out there waits to kill her when she ain’t looking. World neither will fall apart in flames if she will be gone in dreams for few hours. With Harrison come back that part is becoming easier as the simple sharp look in his eyes of mixed care and threat is convincing enough to put that knife down and shove her ass back in bed. With Gage guarding the Fizztop and Harrison overlooking the rest of the town there is no way of sneaking out and in this case it would be a bit ungrateful since they both put so much effort for her.

She is better at taking care of others than herself tho if these are in her social circle. She doesn’t need to force herself, it comes natural to her. She will switch in a second from a vicious bitch to a caring bitch. Trying even to overcome her lack of cooking skills to deliver something warm and edible to that person if need. If she can’t get that fucking soup perfect for shit she will threaten and kidnap a local masterchef of sort to make and teach her how to do it. She means well but...ya remember her empathy can have weird and extreme outcomes.

Lol imagining like someone being under her care when sick and they go to the bathroom and spot a chef cook in a kitchen chained to a fucking stove cooking some good shit and Lucy siting at the table reading a cooking recipe and pointing a pistol at them.

🌺 What does your OC do to calm down when they’re scared or after a nightmare? Do they have any special comfort items or need to be reassured by a specific person? How do they handle this if they’re alone?

Normally she would drink or take calmex right away but she slowly tries to give up on that addiction as they do more harm than good. Having Gage or Harrison around will help to break that thought if she can either crawl up to Porter’s bed or wake him up to ensure that everything is real and alright or kindly ask Harrison to watch over her as he doesn’t need to sleep. Maybe he looks like a nightmare in a dark but its her nightmare she is familiar with.

If alone tho she will struggle, she hates to be alone for too long. If fear strikes her at battlefield she will try to cover her fear and damp it down with anger instead, psycho or fury could help and she isn’t addicted to it as to calmex so that’s one way out but stupid. If its just a nightmare in a middle of a night she won’t go immediately to sleep but walk around, talking to herself and convincing it was just a dream, grab a mannequin, do a silly dance with it, anything silly to relax a mind and take it off the stress and that nightmare. A shot of booze won’t hurt as long as it ends up on just one but it rarely does. Reassurance is her best ally in these beside she is too big of a girl for comforting items like an old plush puppet found in some certain treehouse back in Sancturary....right...riiiiight? ._.

💫What is your favorite fact about this character and why?

I think the simple fact that she is kind of evil oc and she knows about it. I don’t think there is many characters of this kind out there but i might be wrong. Since childhood i was trying to strike best - peaceful outcomes in games and so on but later on i started to sympathize with actual villains, be it games and stories. They can be full of surprises and complex in a interesting way, prove to be actually powerful allies as well and in general they talk to me more than a basic superman trying to strike for a world peace.

☄️ Does this OC deserve better treatment from you? Do you make them suffer just a little bit too much? Be nice to them!

Oh ye, ofc she deserves better, she wants hugs, friends, she is bad but she wants a warm treatment too from time to time, she still have emotions ;c Me, the creator, Uni, i’m horrible to her. I burned her hands too, like noooooo you can’t just wear gloves all the time for no reason, lets do smth bout it that will fit with all that dedication ya willing to push yourself in a fight no matter the consequences. Get burned bitch. Anyway, i’m taking her off the calmex addiction, giving her Harrison back as a better man who wants to protect her and do braids on her hair and softening the stinky to a level of a warm wet piece of trash, maybe getting some actual friends on a way. The pages on a start were focus more on a action and game lore kind off and just parks themselves but now with last page i finally get to actually break down and slow the shit to get to more emotional level, at least i hope to get it that way.

Now Harrison time:

🍁 Where does your OC go when they need to have some time to themselves? Would they ever have their own “comfort corner” filled with all the things they like? Do they have a favorite spot outside that feels like its theirs and theirs alone?

Sadly he will be very lost at the start to find this kind of spot as he popped into the world from nowhere, just finally doing the separation from Lucy to a nearby old synth skeleton in a heat of a fight situation. Since the disciples base got a vacancy and cleaning it up feels too much of an effort for the rest of gangs he decided to make this place his comfort zone as its fairly close to Feit base but still separated behind walls, no windows to peek in for curious ones. He can’t sleep so he has a plenty of time to make it his corner. The only things he posses are his memories so he will just meditate there and surround himself with all the good moments from the past, adding the new ones to the collection, keeping his humanity on check and all the urges balanced. Also trying new tricks with his powers feels safe to do it there, the telekinetic ones especially since the place is spacey and there ain’t much to break. He doesn’t want to go too far away even if he needs a moment, he always has in the back of his head the need to be close when problems arise.

Personally on a side note i struggle to think of an explanation to the Nuka World leaders and overall people there as to how Lucy will explain to them...who the fuck he is and why he is there and where he came from and why give him a disciple base. Like...saying a truth to Gage is easier since they run together but the rest? She can’t even say he is her lost-found father since they don’t even look like family.

🌸 What are some of their favorite things and why? List as many as you can think of!

There won’t too many as he just got off but some basic stuff i know for now:

- sweet snacks, whiskey and smokes as he still remembers these tastes from pre-war: just being softie for these small habits and diet sins

- being in charge, keeping order around due to his profession, even if times changes he still keeps the attitude and he just likes it

- training the newbie raiders, pointing out mistakes to Porter, advising Lucy on some combat moves and tips: it might feel like he is being proud, all knowing but he actually is hell of a experienced smart fighter, don’t get fooled by his age either, he just enjoys training people under him and see them improve

- proving Porter wrong: oh boy they really don’t like each other at the start

- doing dem braids, he starts to have a soft spot for going father mode

- even if he isn’t fully human he takes care of his “shell”, perfectly shaving, keeping his shirts clean and smooth, overall he enjoys that “self care” routine even it it might feel silly in the wasteland and due to the fact who he is

💦 If you as the writer could erase one traumatic event from this OC’s life what would it be and why?

Probably killing his son. The experiment would get to him one way or another since he would get suspicious what kind of shady business is going on in police department and asking too many questions and stuffing nose in corners he shouldn’t would eventually lead anyway to his assassination and still giving his body for that experiment resulting in same outcome but the sudden trauma and speed of events is what pushed him out of there, taking control of himself and situation also resulting in his nature softening and toning down, knowing he doesn’t have much left and it can be lost at any moment.

#rockshortage #soft ask meme #thank you!#lucy feit #harrison #been a while but its a good warm up every time

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awesomeswimmingtimemachine · 4 years ago

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What Next? (l word gen q fanfic)

Decided to give fanfic a try since quarantine doesn't seem to be ending anytime soon. Since I am most impatient for the l word season, Ive created my own continuation of events from the end of the first season. Enjoy :)

Chapter 1

“Im here”

The crowd turned their heads and a light appeared. Nat was making her way towards the stage. Alice had been telling her guest, Roxanne Gay, that she was a bad queer for trying so hard to be “outside the box”. Alice admitted that she ruined the best relationship she had ever been a part of by adding her partner's ex-wife, Gigi, into the mix. But now, Nat was coming right for her, their eyes had met from across the room. Alice called for the cameras to stop rolling, but Sophie saw the potential of this moment and urged them to carry on. Nat professed her love for Alice and only Alice. The two embraced each other in front of the studio audience and were left happier and more in love than they had ever been.

Meanwhile…

Bette Porter had suffered a devastating loss in her campaign for mayor of Los Angeles. She felt not only the heartbreak of loss, but the disappointment of knowing she would be unable to effect change in her city. However, this was not to be the first heartbreak Bette had suffered, in the days leading up to the decision she had learned that Tina planned to remarry. There was a part of Bette that always believed Tina would find her way home, the two had a tendency to find each other despite what trials of life got in their way. Bette was coming to terms with the fact there would be no way home for her this time. Even for a woman of Bette’s fortitude and resilience, the events of the previous weeks had taken their toll. When the time came, she found herself alone on her couch yearning for peace and quiet.

Angie, never one to see her mom sulk, told her mother grab her shoes because they were going to go for a hike. Bette voiced her reluctance, but eventually gave in to her daughter’s request. Angie took her mom to a spot that she often hiked to after her Aunt Kit passed. Bette, overwhelmed by the moment she was sharing with her daughter, shared her own experience of relief and restoration. She told Angie about a time years ago when she decided to attend a silent retreat. Angie laughed at the mere thought of her mother being silent for an extended period of time. Bette smiled, but then told her of the amazing catharsis that comes with screaming after holding everything in for so long. After a beat, Bette asked, “wanna give it a try?”. Angie smiled and said yes. “Okay, but you have to do it, you have to commit and let it all out”. The two women took deep breaths and then screamed at the top of their longs until there was no more breath left. When they were done, the two looked at each other and embraced, ready to make their way back down the mountain.

As they headed back down the trail, Angie caught sight of a pup that drew her attention. “What a cute dog!” she exclaimed as she knelt to say hello. The owner smiled and then quickly noticed Bette. “Maya?” Bette exclaimed as she noticed the owner. Maya smiled.

“I know I’m supposed to be impartial, but I was pulling for you”

“Thank you” Bette responded with an embarrassed smile. The two exchanged some more pleasantries and, sensing the end of their encounter, Maya asked her if she would like to go to dinner. Bette, assuming she was looking for an inside scoop on the election, quickly rebuffed Maya explaining that she was not ready to make any official comments. Maya smiled and explained that the dinner would be “off the record”. Bette realized she was flirting and was admittedly caught off guard. It's not often she is speechless. “You have my number” Maya said before walking off. Angie and Bette continued on their way, all the while Angie teased her mother about finding “The love of her life.”

Across town…

Shane was packing up a number of baby gifts she and Quiara had been given. Quiara had refused to get out of bed since the miscarriage the day before. Shane wasn't sure how to react or what to do. She felt for Quiara and the loss, but truthfully had a sense of relief. Shane had always been honest with Quiara, kids were not a part of her plan. But when Quiara showed up at her front door professing her love and telling Shane she didn't need her but wanted to be with her, what else could she do? Shane was so in love with Quiara and she was willing to put aside her desires to share a life with her.

Quiara, still reeling from the events, finally made her appearance. Shane could see how broken she looked, and wanted nothing more than to take care of her, but once Quiara saw what she was doing she began to let out her frustrations. Quiara accused Shane of being relieved and happy with the way things turned out. Shane was taken aback, overwhelmed and speechless. She knew nothing she could say would help, but she didn’t need to say anything. Quiara threw her ring at Shane and stormed off. Shane picked up the ring and sat on the floor, trying to understand what had just happened.

“No one is ever going to love you because you are incapable of loving anyone but your fucking self”

The words rang in her mind, repeating themselves, taking a piece of her every time. She couldn’t think about anything else as she sat on the floor clutching the ring. “I need a drink” she said to herself, grabbing her keys and making her way to the jeep. While driving to Dana’s she realized that the last thing she wanted was to be around people. She parked the car in the alley, grabbed a few bottles from her office but decided to drive around a bit to clear her head before heading home. While she was driving she came across a mutt rummaging through some trash on the street. She looked into its sad eyes and felt a connection. She heard the words Quiara had said once more, “incapable of loving anyone but yourself.'' There was a deep ache in her heart, was she broken? She looked out at the lost dog once more and in a moment of desperation led the mutt into her jeep. She looked at him, and he looked back at her with kind eyes. “What the hell am I doing?” she asked herself before driving back home.

Chapter 2

The next morning, Shane was stirred from sleep by the sounds of someone in her kitchen. She sat up in bed, feeling the blood rush to her ears and a headache pounding in behind her eyes. The empty bottles by the bed indicative of her activities the night before. Shane willed herself to get out of bed and make her way towards the kitchen. As she came out of her room she could see Alice.

“You have a dog Shane”

“Yeah Al, I know”

“Why do you have a dog” she asked, emphasizing the word dog, “and where is Quiara?!”

Shane knew she would have to tell Alice what happened eventually, but she pictured herself a little less hungover. Shane poured herself a cup of coffee, seemingly ignoring Alice who was impatiently waiting for answers. Shane, now facing Alice, leaned against the counter before taking a slow satisfying sip of her coffee. Another moment passed before she said it, “Quiara left me..”

Alice stood there, trying not to let how shocked she was show on her face, but not doing very well. Shane continued to sip her coffee while Alice collected herself. “She left you…. And you got a dog?” she said confused. Shane recounted the night's events, telling Alice only what she needed to know and nothing more. Alice listened attentively, but plopped herself down the couch. When Shane was done, “wow” was all Alice could manage. Silence hung in the air for a moment before Alice spoke again. “So what's his name?” she asked.

“His name?” Shane responded

“Yeah Shane, dogs have names”

Shane turned to look at the mutt who had chosen a small corner of the kitchen to sleep in last night and was still lying there. His big sad eyes looked up at her, but he did not move. “Dog, his name is Dog” she said in a dismissive manner.

“You can’t fucking name a dog Dog”

“Why not?” Shane asked hungover and a little annoyed by how much energy she had already spent this morning.

“Because Shane, ‘Dog’ is not a name”

Shane turned to face the dog who looked at her again, “okay what about.. Bud”

“Bud?! What are you five?” Alice asked with a slight mocking tone in her voice

“Well I don’t know Al, what am I supposed to name him”

“I don't know!” she responded with a higher tone in her voice, “what about Lou”

“Lou?” Shane asked in a flat tone. Suddenly there was a deep banging noise. She looked over to see the dog had begun to wag his tail. “Lou” she said again and he lifted his head to attention. “OH MY GOD. I’m the fucking dog whisperer” Alice exclaimed causing Shane to roll her eyes and say, “Lou it is.”

Over the next couple of days, Shane spent a lot of time at Dana’s trying her best to keep herself busy. She paid Finley to buy some dog food, a bed and even to walk Lou. Finley was happy for the extra cash and goodies she could swipe from the house.

Shane had gotten the dog to prove to herself that she could care about someone other than herself, but the truth is she wasn't sure she could. She spent her nights out on the terrace underneath the night sky, trying not to think about Quiara. As she continued to pour the drinks she would begin to think about all the times she had let someone down. Shane had always felt like a disappointment, and had a tendency to be self-destructive. She believed she had outgrown that, but maybe she was just good at hiding it.

And then there was a knock at her front door. Her heart stopped for a moment remembering the last time someone came to her front door at that time of night.

She made her way to the door, but found Lou standing guard. His stance ready and his eyes fixed on the front door. “Stay,” Shane said as she caught a glimpse of who was on the other side. She opened the door to a big smile from Bette. “Hey you,” she said to Shane, catching a glimpse of the dog. “ I hear you are keeping busy these days.” Shane smirked and invited Bette into the house. “Bette, meet Lou.” Bette smiled at the dog and looked back at Shane with concerned eyes.

“Im fine, I promise”

“I know,” Bette said, knowing better than to try and tell Shane what she is feeling.

Bette had brought groceries and proceeded to the kitchen. “I figured you could use a home cooked meal, and I could use a friend. What do you say?” she said, turning to look at Shane as she unpacked the bag. Shane smiled, simply responding with “You want a drink?” The two friends took the time to get into their usual rhythm, allowing the first round of drinks to settle before opening a bottle of wine to have with dinner. They ate their meal with a casual and playful atmosphere, but as the bottle was finished and another opened, the conversation found itself veering into its intended territory.

The two sat across from each other, plates nearly clean and the second bottle of wine half empty. “What happened?” Bette asked, knowing Shane would put up her usual bravado. Shane sighed. “I’m broken,” she responded so matter of factly that Bette was taken aback.

“You are not broken”

“Yeah I am, she was right Bette. I was relieved. I didn't want a kid but I wanted her. I was selfish and she left me because … I’m incapable of love.”

Bette let the words sit there for a moment. “Is that what she told you?” she finally asked. Shane didn’t respond. “Shane, you are not broken. Humans by definition are imperfect and we all have our own tendencies to self-destruct. Me included.” Bette said that last part with a little extra weight. Shane looked at her friend who was so good at putting on a brave face for the world but, ever so often, would let her guard down. She reached across the table and held Bette’s hand. Bette looked up across the table to Shane and managed a slight smile.

“I know you are capable of love because I see the way you love Angie, and she adores you. You are a great friend because you love us and we love you. Don’t let the words Quiara said to you in anger question the beautiful person you are.”

“It's different. Cheri, Carmen, Molly …. Quiara… I always hurt the people who love me, because I am not built to love them back, ” Shane said with defeat in her voice.

“I don't believe that” Bette replied without hesitation. “You loved all of them, but maybe you weren't built to love them the way they wanted to be loved, and that is okay.”

Shane let the words weigh on her for a moment. Silence hung in the air.

“So a dog huh,” Bette said teasingly

Shane sat back and looked at Lou who was laying in bed but watching them attentively.

“How are you holding up?” Shane asked, hoping to change the subject. Bette could see what she was doing, but she pursed her lips and didn’t fight it. “Well Tina is getting married,” she said with the slightest pain in her voice. “I know,” Shane replied, “She asked if she could use Dana’s for her engagement party.” Bette flinched and then sat there for a moment before reaching for the dishes and making her way to the sink. Shane was quiet, watching her, knowing that she would speak when she was ready. Bette hung her head, took a deep breath and turned to face Shane. “She deserves to be happy, even if it isn't with me.” Bette was being honest, but Shane knew this was still hurting her. “We are quite the pair,” Shane remarked as she picked up the remaining dishes from the table and walked them over to the sink. The two women cleaned the kitchen together in silence, working in harmony, each with something weighing on their mind. As she was drying the last plate, Bette broke the silence, “I went on a date a couple of nights ago.”

Shane poured the last bit of wine into her glass and smiled, “With the hot reporter I bet.”

Bette put the plate down in utter disbelief. “How on earth could you possibly know that?” she said almost laughing. She looked over to Shane who had a knowing smile. “Because, I’m me. And she was into you at that campaign event. How was the date?”

#the l word #the l word gen q #the l word generation #alice #shane #bette #fanfic #chapter 1 #chapter 2

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colonel-insomniac · 5 years ago

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The Thief's Prince (part two

A/N- ok guys part two is here and part three will be up at most by next weekend though I'll try and get it up before then. Read all my other one shots on AO3 here

“I am so dead.” Are the only words that managed to exit the boy sitting naked in the tub.

“Uhm, I’m sorry but you just came out of a locket and I’m naked. So, uhm, who are you exactly?” Bobby asks, trying to stay calm, thankful for the bubbles covering his less appropriate areas.

“Ah, excuse me, Mr Porter. I am Sheldon Copepod, and I am the powerful being that haunts this locket. I am a genie and I am here to grant you three wishes of whatever you may desire, whenever you desire.” Bobby has to think about this one.

“Wait. I’m getting major vibes that you’re the type of genie that takes everything literally. And doesn’t copepod mean shrimp?” The genie looked a little bothered, at Bobby’s questions, but answered them regardless.

“Yes, and yes. If you absolutely have to know, the last genie of this lamp had a curse put upon him, and I was foolish enough to trade spots with him, and then the curse moved to me.” Bobby hates the feeling of being enclosed in a space, and so naturally he feels bad for Sheldon.

“How long have you been stuck in there?” Maybe he’s being too forward, but he really feels bad.

“Two decades.” Twenty years? That’s only one year older than Bobby, meaning that Sheldon has been stuck there for the entire duration of Bobby’s life.

“So I get three wishes?” He’s already thinking of what he might want, but he also knows that if he were the one trapped in there, he’d want his freedom. He’s gonna free Sheldon. But he isn’t going to tell him that just yet, just in case he tries to pull something.

“I believe that is what I said, yes. Now, do you wanna make your first wish or not? I’m a very busy genie.” Bobby contemplates asking exactly how someone trapped in a locket could have so many things to do, but he thinks better of it; pissing off something more powerful than you probably isn’t the best idea.

“I’m not exactly sure what I should wish for.” Sheldon sighs, and Bobby swears he hears him mutter “how did I get stuck with such a stupid kid?” which makes bothers Bobby a little. He is not a kid anymore, he’s a criminal. And criminals are too weathered to be considered kids, regardless of age.

“Kid, I can do just about anything you want me to do.” Sheldon is quick to add on when he sees Bobby’s eyes widen with all the possibilities. “Within limits, of course. I can not and will not kill anyone, bring anyone back from the dead, or make anyone fall in love with you. That last one would just be cruel.” Bobby’s cheeks flush at the last part, instantly thinking of the prince, even though that’s just stupid.

Everyone knows the prince would never love a criminal, it’s just plain strange. And yet, Bobby still can’t help but fantasize, even if it would never work out. He’s going to get hanged for his crimes if anyone figures out his true identity, and even though prince Patrick knows, Bobby figures he’s probably the safest one to have found out. Childhood friends, and all.

“Okay, well I don’t need anything now, and it seems wasteful to use a wish on something when I could be in danger later, so I don’t have a wish right now.” The glare sent his way by the being makes him add a ‘sorry.’ He’s really not trying to be cursed tonight.

The genie disappears back into the locket, accidentally knocking something over. It clatters on the floor, and Bobby cringes each time it makes contact with the floor. Bobby next hears footsteps rushing towards the door, and three and a half knocks. “Are you alright?” The prince asks, his voice slightly muffled by the door.

Bobby nods, head still whirling from everything going on, and it takes him a moment to realize Patrick can’t actually see him. “Uh, yeah! Just knocked something over accidentally.”

He decides he’s probably been in there long enough, so he drains the water out of the tub and dries himself off and redresses in his dirt-stained clothes. When Bobby exits the bathroom, he sort of just stands awkardly in the room, freezing but not wanting to say anything. He’s taken enough, he thinks. A locket, a bunch of semi-valuable to valuable items, he literally robbed Patrick the second he turned away and was able to. Bobby’s such a bad person.

His stomach feels as though it’s in knots, and he’s kinda concerned he’s gonna throw up, but then Patrick looks over, and leaps out of his bed excitedly, a gleeful look in his eye. “Yay, you’re back—wait, are you okay? You look like you’re gonna be sick. Come, lie down on my bed?” He asks, pushing the shorter boy towards the bed, a hand on Bobby’s back, and it burns Bobby through his shirt; it makes him feel even worse.

So he walks. Not because he thinks he should lie down, but because it’s the only way he can stop himself from either freezing up completely, or bolting out the door, away from here, from this kingdom. Maybe he ought to do that anyways. Rid the kingdom of the petty thief known as Acro.

Bobby’s mom used to tell him that he was born with an extra sensitive heart; she told him that the emotions people felt, he felt on a deeper level. But for a majority of his life, he’d only felt happiness. He felt that glittering emotion, sparkling like a diamond submerged in a lake in the afternoon. And this feeling of overwhelming guilt is choking him from inside his body. He’s repelled by it, and even though he just bathed, he feels dirtier than he did before.

The bed is indescribably soft, and the pillows even softer, and Bobby knows if it weren’t for his current predicament, he’d be out cold in a matter of minutes. He’d give anything to fall into that peaceful oblivion right now. “Why are you being so nice to me?” He asks. “I’m a thief, and I’ve deceived so many people.” Patrick sighs, but his back is towards Bobby, so he can’t see the prince’s expression.

“Doing whatever you must to keep you and your loved one’s alive is hardly a crime. In my mind, it cancels out the crime.” Bobby turns around, cheek pressed to the pillow, and closes his eyes. That statement won’t hold when Patrick finds out they were robbed. He’s going to instantly know it was Bobby, and then probably have the king sentence him to life in the dark dungeon.

He mutters something along these lines, and Patrick whirls around. “Did you say something?” He asked, and Bobby gets the feeling that the prince is ready to argue with Bobby on this.

“I said that wouldn’t be your outlook if you were one being robbed.”

“Maybe not, and you’re right because I’ve only ever lived with money, I’ve never been robbed—” Oh, the irony, “—so maybe you are right. Maybe I would hate you then. But I have the money, I have everything I need and more. I don’t see why we don’t give money to the people, to be honest. It really doesn’t make sense.”

Bobby’s left speechless for a moment. He’s never met someone who was so nonchalant and uncaring about his money. He really should have asked, but that would have been embarrassing. Bobby has to go get the stolen items and return them before anyone finds out. But how can he just excuse himself? He slides off the bed, “I need to go, I forgot I had to do something for my boss.” He imagines the words spilling over his shoulders as he rushes out the door. A knot is in his gut as he runs, his feet pounding on the pavement, pushing him forward. Each step fills him with more and more hope.

The doors to the Krustie Krabbe clang open, but Bobby barely flinches. “Mr Krabbes!” He calls out. Surely he’s left the restaurant, it’s late in the night. He checks his office anyways, hoping against all odds that Krabbes is there.

No luck. He grabs a couple of burgers and bags them before heading back out. He's gotta check out Krabbes' house next. The house is small, painted black and white, and Bobby knocks on the wood door. He knocks every couple seconds, desperate to fix his mistake before it gets noticed.

"What is it, boy? You be knockin like some Savage beast be nippin at your heels."

"Mr Krabbes, we made a mistake. We need to go return all the stuff from the palace. The prince—" Krabbes cuts Bobby off quickly, pulling him in the house harshly.

"You got found out by the prince? And yer here, compromising me situation?" Bobby inwardly groans.

"You don't get it, he's not like the king he said he'd give people money if they needed it. We can just ask him for money!" At the mention of money, Krabbes pauses, giving Bobby hope that his boss will give in.

But then he shakes his head. Because of course he would. "No me boy! It's a good idea in theory but he won't be that open with his money once you ask." Bobby's head drops and he looks at his shoes, silently angry.

"Besides, it wouldn't keep us going for long. We got mouths to feed, boy-o, and we can't keep asking the prince for money." He adds in a softer tone.

Bobby sighs and watches as locks of his strawberry blonde hair bounce. "Alright." He replies, turning on his heel. He leaves with a muttered goodnight, and doesn't look back.

The bag of burgers is still clutched in his hand, forgotten but not unwanted, and Bobby keeps his eyes carefully trained on the horizon, pushing out all his thoughts. The palace looms over him, looking more daunting than it previously had, but Bobby scales the wall anyways, miraculously unseen yet again.

He trudges toward the prince's room, heart in his stomach. He could always rob it back from Mr Krabbes, but he doesn't know whether he'd want to risk his job or not. "Patrick," he calls through the door, "I'm back. I brought food too!" He tries to keep his tone light and happy despite not feeling like it. He really is a deceiver.

When the door opens, Bobby walks in, chattering to avoid the gnawing guilt he feels. It isn't until he's seated on the floor, waiting for Patrick to join him that he realizes the prince hasn't said a word. He looks up at Patrick, who's looking at him with a frown, eyebrows scrunched together. "Do you know what happened while you were away?" Is the first thing the taller of the two asks.

Bobby shakes his head, gulping. "The guards found that there were things missing from the palace. Some silverware, some jewelry, some gold. We were robbed. And y'know the name I heard from the guards?" Bobby stays completely still, stiller than he's ever been in his life. The prince continues: "Acro. That's what they said. They said they were sure it had to be Acro because like all of Acro's thefts, everything was put back the way it was, neatly. Almost as though trying to hide that a theft had occurred."

It's true. When he's stealing from the vendors he can't necessarily afford to be meticulous, but on the small handful of home robberies that he's done, he's always made sure to neaten everything up. He looks away from the prince. "Why'd you do it?" He asks, voice laced with sorrow.

This makes Bobby sadder but it also angers him. That's exactly what he was saying to the prince earlier. "I told you you wouldn't get it." Bobby stands up, decreasing the distance between them. "You didn't listen. You have no clue how it is out there or what it feels like to go to bed with an empty stomach, trying to make the best of it because your friends need it more. You don't know how impossible it is to make money out there, you don't know what it's like to essentially be forced to rob and run for your life because you grew up with money, you grew up comfortable."

Bobby's suddenly of his rising voice, his finger poking Patrick's chest, the prince's breath hitting his forehead. He has to contain himself. "I should call the guards." Patrick states icily.

"Do it." Bobby snarls. "I dare you."

The prince narrows his eyebrows, and shouts the word at the top of his lungs and moments later, four guards rush in, grabbing Bobby by the arms. "This boy bothering you, your highness?" One of them states. His voice is deep, smooth like velvet.

"That boy has confessed to me that he is none other than Acro." He States, maintaining eye contact with Bobby.

Bobby can feel the blood leech out of his face, suddenly numb. He can't hear the conversation amidst his shock, and he hardly feels them dragging him away. He's looking at Patrick, who's looking at him. Both of them broken.

The dungeon is cold and damp. It feels grey, sucking out the color of the world, leaving it hollow. The way he feels on the inside. He's curled in a ball in the corner of his cell, trying to piece things together.

He's going to be executed. Day after tomorrow. It's off with his head. He's past crying now, he's just thinking and thinking and thinking. Bobby wishes he'd done everything different. He's hugging his knees to his chest when something clatters to the ground, startling him. The locker.

He face palms. Of course! Why didn't he think of it sooner? Hurriedly, Bobby picks the necklace up, secures it around his neck and rubs it. "What, what do you—where are we?"

"We're in the dungeon and I'm gonna have my head chopped off. They found out I'm the thief they've been searching for. Can you help me?" The genie blinks in surprise. Maybe it's the wild look in Bobby's eyes, or the desperation in his voice, but the glare that was fixed on him by the genie melted off Sheldon’s face, and he nods. “It’ll take a wish, though.”

“Yeah, but I figure that my life is at stake here, probably a good way to use my first wish.” Bobby would smile, but he’s feeling so numb. So empty. So broken.

Sheldon nods, snapping his fingers. When Bobby opens his eyes, the two are in a sandy setting, and in the back of his mind Bobby thinks of the word ‘desert.’ “Where are we?” He asks, fingers digging into the soft grains.

“See that building that’s just barely visible?” Sheldon points into the distance, and if Bobby squints his eyes, he can just barely see a structure. He nods, and Sheldon continues: “Well, that’s where we need to head to. When we get there, I think we’ll find someone who might be able to help.” The mismatched pair head off towards the unknown. Well, unknown to Bobby.

Hours later, they reach their destination, and strains of music hit his ears. There are people flitting to and from, chattering above the music in a tongue he can’t understand. He’s not sure where he is, but he’s relieved he isn’t home for the moment. He’d be a sitting duck, waiting for his demise to come at last. He could just never return, now that he thinks about it. He could stay here, lonely, unable to communicate with those around him. He would be safer.

“Quit your sulking and get a move on.” Bobby’s companion had quit his floating, now walking beside him, dressed in clothes similar to his own.

“I think I earned the right to sulk.” Bobby remarks sarcastically, rolling his eyes.

“Why, because some guy you knew once upon a time ratted you out and he just so happens to be the prince and love your life?” Sheldon bats his eyes at the last part, mocking Bobby lightly.

“Oh be quiet, you wouldn’t understand what it’s like to finally reunite with an old friend you have feelings for only to mess it up because of who you are.” Bobby sighs, blinking back tears.

Sheldon’s face closes off in the span of a second: “Maybe I understand better than you think.” Bobby studies his companions face for a moment, eyebrows scrunched in thought. “Anyways,” The genie changes the subject, attitude flipping on a dime as they approach the doors to a castle, “Here we are.”

Bobby isn’t exactly sure where here is, but the genie knocks on the wood doors, and when they swing open, the genie and Bobby walk in, greeted by a giant fountain. Sheldon guides Bobby around the fountain, almost as though he knows exactly where he’s going. A couple minutes later, the two reach a door, and Sheldon knocks the door before swinging it open. Bobby’s about to protest and insist they wait for a response, but all his thoughts disappear when he sees the one and only Aladdin lounging on a fainting chair. He sits up when he sees the pair. “Hey guys!” He swings himself off the chair and stands in front of them. He’s a head or so taller than Bobby, and when Aladdin looks at Bobby he appears pained for some reason. “You’re so young.” Are the only words he appears to be able to communicate.

Bobby’s the first to break eye contact. “I’m Bobby Porter. I got into some seriously hot water. I’m scheduled to be executed day after tomorrow. I don’t know what to do, but can you maybe help me?” Aladdin nods, sympathy written on his features.

“I’ll try everything I can, but I don’t know how much help I’ll end up being. My circumstances worked out in the best way possible for me, but that might have been pure luck.” Bobby nods, wishing this didn’t even have to happen at all.

"Alright, so have you tried winning the hand of the princess?" He begins, and Bobby flushes.

"Actually, it's a prince, but yeah, I tried. Kind of. It backfired though.” Intrigued eyes meet Bobby’s sad ones. "I kinda robbed him and his father and he found out it was me and ratted me out." Bobby's cheeks burn, but mostly because it seems so stupid. Why would anyone risk robbing the royal family?

"Oh, that makes things a little tougher." Is the response he gets and Bobby nods somberly.

"Well, you could get him away from the palace and talk things through with him?"

"I tried that already." Bobby replies, irritated and sad.

"Did you try that or did you get defensive? 'Cause it isn't uncommon for thieves like us to get defensive when confronted.” Bobby looks away, which gives the answer off.

“Okay, that answers that,” Aladdin claps his hands, startling Bobby a little. “The good news is I’ve got a plan. But for it to work I need to come too.”

Bobby nods, “I don’t wanna use my second wish to get us back in case we need it for something later.” He’s still so shaken from the thought of his head getting chopped off, the feeling of the cold metal they bound his wrists with on the way to the dungeon burned into his skin, and he can feel the phantom nick of a sharp object caressing his neck. He pushes those thoughts away and focuses on his breathing only. He can’t break down here, not now.

Aladdin seems to sense Bobby’s thoughts veering onto a much darker path, and he interjects into the noise in Bobby’s brain. “We can use my carpet.” Is the simple response given, and Bobby’s vaguely aware of a warm hand on his freckled forearm.

He nods, focusing on that warmth as he stands up and puts on a brave front. “Right, let's get this thing started.”

#the spongebob musical #the spongebob musical live on stage #spongebob #patrick #sandy #mr krabs #squidward #volcano #patbob #spongerick #patbob spongerick

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jamlally · 5 years ago

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Merry and Bright

This was written for the 25 days of Christmas Challenge that is hosted by @panicfob . The Day 22 Challenge prompt was Favorite Christmas Song

Warnings: Fluff, soft kisses and mushy feelings

Pairing: Tony Stark x OFC (Belle Porter)

Summary: There is meaning in even the small things

Retiring back to Tony’s apartment after watching Holiday Inn Belle felt content. Usually by the end of the movie she was left feeling a little maudlin and in her own head, but tonight by sharing her feelings with the others, she felt lighter. Tony turned on the lights to the Christmas tree they had put up before heading to one of the consoles and tapping away.

Coming back towards Belle he smiled at the wonderful woman that had come to mean so very much to him. Tonight his heart had broken a little at her story, that her favorite movie was about not being as lonely as she usually was. Thinking on it he supposed that his story had a little of that in it too, as did some of the others. It was funny that even though they had each other they still all felt the same loneliness.

The opening of White Christmas came through the speakers and he held his hand out to Belle becoming her to come close with his fingers. Her smile warmed his heart as she stepped forward and rested her head on his shoulder. He tightened his grip and started to somewhat waltz around the room with her held close to him. He hummed as they danced, his mind for once blissfully quiet as he relaxed in her warm embrace. He was coming to realize that this, being close with Belle was what home was. It didn’t matter where he was, when he was close to her this was home

“So tell me then is this your favorite Christmas song?”

He felt the smile he couldn’t see “No. It’s a beautiful song and I will always think of it at Christmas time, but it’s not my favorite”

“Oh really , let me guess then, it’s something more modern and bouncy. Maybe have a holly jolly Christmas, or I saw Mommy kissing Santa Clause ?” He had joked. He was sure that those wouldn’t be er choices. She was an old soul and would pick seething more classical

Belle laughed pushing her face a little more firm against his chest “Not quite no”

Tony rested his cheek on the crown of her head “Oh is it a mystery that I need to work out. Well now let’s see - your movie choice would suggest you like older things, as does your friendship with the ice pops, so I am guessing that it’s an older song. How am I doing?”

Belle pressed a kiss to his chest, feather light but still there

“Ah ha - I must be on the right track - a kiss can’t mean anything else. An older song. Oh god it’s not that awful drummer boy song is it?”

Belle gave a soft chuckle “No it’s not that, though it is a fun song. Tell me are you just going to work your way through every song that you can think of or do you have a plan ?”

“I was thinking if we could keep dancing then I would work my way through as many of the songs as I could knowing that they wouldn’t be your choice”

Belle lifted her head and looked him in the eye. The warmth he saw there made his heart pound in a most pleasant way. This would be the way to live the rest of his life, dancing peacefully with the woman that he loved

Lowering his head Tony brushed his lips across hers gently, softly once and then again before pressing more firmly and using his tongue to softly coax her mouth open. Her moan encouraged him to deepen this kiss further, a warmth starting to grow in his belly. His hands releasing hers and pulling her closer, before one moved up to support the back of her head, while the other went south and grabbed a handful of her ass. His own answering groan had Belle’s arms looping around his back, and her fingers carrying through eh shorter heals at the back of his neck.

If you asked him how long they stood like that he honestly couldn’t have told you, minutes, seconds, hours - It didn’t matter. All he knew was that he could have stood there with her in his arms forever. He was sure that the smile he gave her was all soft and sappy, but he could be that with her. She was his safe place. Kissing her forehead softly he stepped back and took her hand pulling her over to the bar where he filled a glass with a little ice and a large shot of scotch for them to share, before then heading to the sofa and pulling her down next to him.

When she curled into his side he marveled for just a second at how well she fit there. It was like she knew how to curve her body just so to make it fit perfectly with his, Holding the glass to her lips he had her take a small sip, before he did the same, enjoying the slight burn and the rich malty taste. They sat for a moment, taking sips, and watching the lights on the Christmas tree.

“White Christmas” Tony’s voice broke the peaceful silence “That’s my favorite. My folks - well my Mom would sing it every year. I like the idea that even though things are good, the singer is always talking about his dream of what Christmas could be. For a long time that’s how I felt but more recently I’ve found that what I really want for Christmas I’ve had. It’s why I don’t want gifts usually. The stuff doesn’t make Christmas any better, being happy with people and sharing wit them, that’s the Christmas’ that I really wanted and now I have them”

He felt Belle tilt her head back and then her soft lips were kissing just under his chin

“For me it’s Have yourself a Merry Little Christmas when it is sung by Frank Sinatra. I always felt comforted by the words. It gave me hope that there would be a Christmas where I could be happy and not worried or lonely. Even if it was only for a day. That was always the feeling that the song gave me, that for that one day things would be better”

“Do you think you’re any closer to having that feeling for real” he couldn’t help but ask. He knew that if she said no a piece of his heart would be broken

“I think I’ve achieved it, and probably not just for Christmas. Being with you all r, I have relationships and friends that I never even dreamed of. You know I wondered if having siblings would be a good thing. I used to dream of having them you know, when I was younger. I use to wonder if I would have been less lonely, but then I would worry what if my Mum loved them more. or what if I resented having to look after them. In the end I figured that it was better that I didn’t. With these guys I think that friends and siblings might have been cool”

“Well I’m going you don’t think of everyone here as a friend or sibling”

“Well you are my friend as well as a lot more besides. You know the this year I think the final line now means something to me. I guess its a hope more than anything”

“Through the years we all will be together, If the fates allow?” Tony asked

“Yeah, I know that things won’t always be like this but I hope that there is always a group of us that can be together”

“There is a lot I can promise to give you Snowflake, but that one is not in my control. I promise I’ll try though”

“Tony I don’t need you to promise me things like that. It’s just nice that for a chance I can have that hope”

They were quiet again for a time before Tony broke the silence again “We could make it so we all felt like we were closer, so no one was forgotten”

“Well that is an interesting idea but other than video calls I am not sure how even the great Tony Stark can manage that”

“The ornaments. The ones on the big tree. I’ll get a full set for everyone, minus their own. Then no matter where they are they can have a bit of us with them”

Belle moved turning her body and rising on her knees, both hands coming up to bracket each side of Tony’s face. Her eyes seemed to bore into his, there were tears forming then spilling over before she pressed her lips against his in a slightly desperate slightly sloppy kiss. When she puled away they were both a little out of breath

“You Tony Stark are the best man I know” She pressed another kiss to his lips before snuggling into him, chest against chest, her head resting on his shoulder, her lips kissing and occasionally sucking on his neck.

Tony let out a contented sigh closing his eyes for a moment before reaching a hand out tp put the scotch glass down and wrapping both arms around Belle. “I’ll try my best to always make your days merry and bight Snowflake”

#panic's 25 days of christmas #oneshot #fluff

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luvs2smile · 5 years ago

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Celestial Heart: prt 85

A warm breeze brushed against my face carrying a lovely scent along with it. I felt comfortable. Peaceful and comfy. I took a deep breath debating on getting up or not, but the peace I was feeling was too tempting. I was nearly pulled back into the deep void of sleep til the faint sound of birds and children’s laughter filled my ear, reminding me I was still in the park.

“Tori, hey, Tori, are you awake now?” I opened my eyes to find Ethan poking my nose. “What are you doing?” I asked with a groggy voice, letting the rest of the sleep filter from my eyes. “Trying to see if you were awake,” he let out a little laugh as I sat up. I wiped my eyes, gathering myself and asked, “Where’s Edith?” “With your sister and Grandmother,” He answered simply. It was as if everything came into focus when he said and I immediately reacted…a little too much, “She’s where?!” I whipped my head around and finally realized they were right in front of me the whole time. “The sleepyhead has arisen I see,” Grandma Sage was the first one to speak up. Her voice was playful and teasing just as I had known it to be. It was like being home. At the same, somewhere in my brain, I felt a small panic. Edith was here, they were meeting her. I spared a glance at Ethan almost as if he could gather and straighten the feelings I had in my chest. All he did was nod in their direction and stood up. “I’m just going to the bathroom,” he declared in a whisper.

I joined Grandma Sage along Leann, who handed a squirmy Edith to me, just as he stalked off. “What are you guys doing here?” I asked with a mixture of joy and caution my voice. “Aw, you don’t sound excited to see us” Leann teased. “Of course, I’m happy to see you, Lee, I’m just…” “Nervous for us to see Edith?” my grandma quickly stole the words that were hanging at the back of my throat. A sheepish smile flashed on my lips then quickly disappeared. “Well, yeah I-“

“Why would you be so nervous about us seeing her; I mean even if she was like ugly or something, we’d still love her cause she’s still our family,” my sister interjected. For a moment my younger sister’s words brought me a bit of comfort, but it quickly faded. Leann didn’t truly understand everything about Edith, she didn’t know how the words ‘ugly’ would fit this situation. I worried that perhaps she could never really understand. Because of that, I worried her words wouldn’t exactly uphold. At the same time, I couldn’t help feeling a bit of happiness from it. “I was nervous cause Edith’s just…very… special ya know” I finally said. Leann let out a girlish giggle as she reached out to pinch Edith’s cheek, “Of course she’s very special, she came from my favorite sister and she’s super cute.” Edith gave her a grin that made her pacifier fall out. Granma Sage smiled back before saying, “So what’s her name and when’s her birthday; I need to know what to put on her first birthday cake.”

I looked at the sincerity in their faces, feeling the warmth block out the insecurity for once. “Her name’s Edith, Edith Eaton-” “She doesn’t have a middle name?” Leann interrupted “Ah, no. I couldn’t think of anything.” I said almost absent-mindedly before continuing, “she was born October 31, she seems to really like the color yellow, and she’s really advanced for her age,” “I heard these new youngins are learning things quicker now,” Granma Sage joked purely. “The new models are always more advanced aren’t they Granma?” Leann added, which gained a giggle from Edith, which in turn, brought warmth to my chest. After that, they continued to ask things about Edith, and I continued to tell them. I hadn’t realized that at that moment I had become the very thing I told Rachel I couldn’t be. The parent that happily jabbered on about their kid.

Eventually, we became absorbed in each other’s company. It was like old times, like nothing very changed. However, we were soon pulled out of the warming world we put back together when Ethan returned and shyly said, “S-sorry to interrupt but, I think it’s going to rain soon…” We all turned to him and it felt like the outside world had become real again. I looked up at the sky noticing the grey clouds rolling about, “Ah, yeah, it looks like it.”

“Well, I guess that’s our cue to be heading home,” Leann yawned. “Ah, yeah, I guess we should too,” I mumbled glancing at Edith. We all stood up and Ethan began to gather our things. I quickly went and placed Edith in her stroller and returned to say goodbye.

“Ya know, I’m actually kind of upset with you because Ethan got to meet her before I did,” Leann pouted. “I’m sorry, it was honestly an accident,” I offered. “I’m also upset that you guys are hanging out without me; it’s kinda boring at home especially when Granma Sage goes to hang out with her friends,” “I’m sorry about that too, I’ll make sure to include you next time ok?” my sister and I shared a smile for a moment before Leann immediately launched herself into my arms and mumbled “It was nice seeing you today,” I smiled softly, feeling a bit of sadness seeing them leave. “You too”

When Leann let go, I turned to my grandma. Without much of a word, we embraced. “Babies are gifts from the stars, I hope you treat her preciously,” I nodded, her words reminding me of Porter, “I will I promise.” “You too are precious, remember that,” she said, planting a kiss on my forehead, “We love you very much, remember that too.” I felt a warmth growing my chest along with a lump in my throat so all I could manage was a nod. (I will)

#sims 4 #sims 4 story #sims 4 teens #sims 4 baby #ts4 #ts4 teen #ts4 story #Celestial Heart #Tori Eaton #Ethan Clark #Edith Eaton #Leann Eaton #Sage Eaton

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nicest-of-spices · 5 years ago

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Miru Nhule - Music Playlist!

For many of us music is a source of inspiration for our characters, so I want to know what songs inspire and/or relate to your muse! Choose between 10-15 songs, compile them into an album and tag some friends to share the beat!

Who I am is not who I’ve been

All the King’s Horses - Karmina There is a reason I’m still standing/ I never knew if I’d be landing/ And I will run fast, outlast/ Everyone that said no.

Little Me - Little Mix Tell you one thing I would say to her/ I’d tell her to speak up, tell her to shout out/ Talk a bit louder, be a bit prouder/ Tell her she’s beautiful, wonderful/ everything she doesn’t see

The Cave- Mumford & Sons So make your siren’s call and sing all you want/ I will not hear what you have to say/ ‘Cause I need freedom now and I need to know how/ To live my life as it’s meant to be.

Shelter - Porter Robinson & Madeon And it’s a long way forward, trust in me / I’ll give them shelter, like you’ve done for me/ And I know I’m not alone, you’ll be watching over us/ Until you’re gone

Blessing of Light, Curse of Light

Hope of Morning - Icon for Hire When the hope of morning starts to fade in me/ I don’t dare let darkness have its way with me/ And the hope of morning makes me worth the fight/ I will not be giving in tonight.

Ocean Blue - WRLD ft. Laura Brehm The light from the winter sky/ The moon is beginning to bring the tide/ And all this time/ I’ve been trying to heal alone

Gurenge - AmaLee ver. (english cover) I can hear the lightning/ There’s not a song more frightening/ And like a storm you can’t control some things in this world/ Not everything can be protected/ I already know that

Rose of May - Erutan War leaves its trail in moonlight so pale/ Its shadows they flow in rivers, in rivers/ So put on my mask, I’ll go where they ask/ So I might once again see the roses of may

Will you stand by me?

Inside out- The Chainsmokers ft. Charlee

I’m gonna pick your brain and get to know your thoughts/ So I can read your mind when you don’t wanna talk/ And can I touch your face before you go?/ I collect your scales but you don’t have to know

Graveyard - Halsey

Oh, ‘cause I keep diggin’ myself down deeper/ I won’t stop ‘til I get where you are/ I keep running when both my feet hurt/ I won’t stop ‘til I get where you are/ Oh, when you go down all your darkest roads/ I would’ve followed all the way to the graveyard

Something Just Like This - The chainsmokers & Coldplay

I’m not looking for somebody with some superhuman gifts/ some super hero, some fairytale bliss/ Just something I can turn to, somebody I can kiss/ I want something just like this.

I will forge my own future

You’re Not Alone - Erutan When the storm draws nigh/ Dreams will shatter before your eyes/ Know that you’re not alone/ When the battle starts/ I will comfort your restless heart/ You’ll know that you are home

Shatter Me - Lindsey Stirling ft. Lzzy Hale If I break the glass, then I’ll have to fly/ There’s no one to catch me if I take a dive/ I’m scared of changing, the days stay the same/ The world is spinning but only in gray

Holding onto Heaven - Foxes )The Chainsmokers remix ‘Cause I’m holding onto heaven/ Lights fade, but I won’t let them

Face my Fears - AmaLee Ver. Let me face, let me face, let me face my fears/ Won’t be long, won’t be long, I’m almost here.../Watch me cry all my tears

Sincerely - TRUE I’m living my life, I’m never giving up/ So that you can take pride in these current days

tagged by: @gatheredfates a really long time ago, I’m so sorry I took a million years to get this done! @windupnamazu I saw her post for her character and it reminded me. >.<

My music taste varies a LOT depending on which muse I’m writing for, and to be honest making a playlist for Miru took me months. So many song swaps and finding which lyrics I wanted to use. If I could post the whole song I would but that’s what the next part is for XD I’m sorry if it’s bland or silly, but I really wanted to do it.

Who I am is not who I’ve been is basically Miru’s childhood and coming of age. Losing her father at such a young age, learning that death isn’t something anyone should take lightly. All the King’s Horses is reminiscent of the childhood innocence that everyone has before it’s taken away. She’s not a princess that’s about to be saved, that’s in fairy tales. Little Me is a more towards her teenage years. After being taken in by Zirnwyda, Miru struggled a lot with self-confidence and self-esteem. The blame of her father’s death, the anger and disdain from his comrades, even how her eyes are exactly like her father’s is a grim reminder. The Cave fits Miru pretty well since it’s about seeing the world from a different perspective, but it feels like more about being open to change. Being flexible enough to change and keep an open mind but rebellious enough to know what she wants and not compromise. Shelter is truly Mozah’li’s song. He’s the one who brought Miru to Limsa Lominsa, raised her as a single father, but always made sure she never felt like a burden and that she was safe. Though his death shattered her world and her perceptions, Miru wants to be that shelter (pun intended) for others. To keep them safe, just like her father did for her.

Blessing of Light, Curse of Light is kind of self-explanatory I think? The Warrior of Light has been through a lot so I wouldn’t be surprised that most of them had some kind of trauma or ptsd. Miru definitely has had her own fair share, starting from when her father died to now in the First. Hope of Morning is how she’s finally acknowledged that she does, in fact, have these self-doubts and insecurities and she doesn’t want those close to her and those she loves to know. That when the “darkness threatens her” she won’t give in. No matter how hard it is she has to keep moving forward. Even when she feels like she can’t take another step. Ocean Blue is kind of her song. Like her theme song. I don’t have anything super deep for it, it’s just when I write her it’s the song I go to. Gurenge and Rose of May are both kind of like her coming into her own. She’s the Warrior of Light but she’s so much more. She wouldn’t be anywhere near where she is without her friends to support her. She may have lost her childhood innocence, and lost all hope. But she’s found it again in the hands and hearts of those she helps and those who fight alongside her. She’s been given this chance to help make the world a better place and she would not squander it.

Will you stand by me? Honestly? This is Miru and Urianger’s playlist. When I write for them these are the songs I listen to. Something Just Like This is perfect for them because she’s not looking for anyone special, she doesn’t need someone who’s a hero or who will save her at a moment’s notice. She just needs someone for her to love and love her in return. Someone to support her and be at her side even at her worst. Inside Out embodies her love for Urianger, I think. Out of everything he’s done, she can understand each and every reason. She might not agree with him on some of what he’s done but that doesn’t stop her from trying to get through to him. Graveyard definitely speaks of Miru in terms of her loyalty to someone she loves. Even if she feels like the whole world is telling her that its a bad decision, that maybe it hurts. She’ll keep going.

I will forge my own future. This is Miru’s character development playlist. I tried to put them together in such a way that You’re Not Alone and Shatter Me were put together at first. Miru really is one to fight for what she believes in, and even though change is terrifying at best, she has learned to keep putting one foot in front of the other. Holding onto Heaven and Face my Fears kind of represent how, out of everything, she wants to grow. Not as a Warrior of Light, not as a Scion, but as Miru Nhule. Daughter of Mozah’li and foster daughter of Zirnwyda. That, out of everything, she’ll hold her head high. Finally, Sincerely is...a letter to her father. I loved this song after I had watched Violet Evergarden and, to be honest, found quite a few parallels between both Miru and Violet. I like to think of this song as a final farewell letter Miru wrote to her father when she finally makes peace with his death. She’s not defined by her past, but she can use it to grow.

tagging: everyone! If you want to tag me in it so I can see your muse’s playlist I’d love to see it, but I really just want everyone to have a good time so absolutely no pressure. I’m still new to the whole posting and tagging about my muses so I’d hate to leave out anyone by accident.

#ffxiv #Miru Nhule #music playlist #muse playlist #i'm sorry if my taste is bad #but I love her #warrior of light #miqo'te #aether #adamantoise #sorry if I make no sense in explanations #I swear it made sense in my head

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radreactions · 6 years ago

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How would romanced companions react catching female Sole singing, and sounds amazing? Include Maxson please! ❤️

Cait - Despite what the brawler says, she falls in love with Sole’s voice quicker than a Deathclaw would a freshly made kill. She’d sit and listen discreetly, probably while cleaning her gun and rolling her eyes whenever anyone spotted her, but she’d listen and love every damn moment of it.

Codsworth - He never tires of hearing Sole’s voice, not even after listening to his private recordings for the 200 years Sole was in the vault. Hearing the real, live thing was so much more special to him though and he knows beyond a doubt that if he could, he most absolutely would start crying.

Curie - The little synth would instantly become Sole’s number one fan, always ensuring that she’s there for every single note, every word, every octave. She’d desperately search for some recording device so that she may listen to that lovely voice whenever she pleases.

Danse - Although it made him uncomfortable at first, Danse quickly realizes that the feeling is actually a fondness for Sole’s oddly pleasing voice and he finds himself trying imprint the way it sounds into his mind for when things get quiet and when painful memories decide to surface. He’d take Sole’s soothing voice over that any day.

Deacon - With Sole’s consent, Deacon records a few of their songs and claims that he’s preserving them for when the Railroad eventually decide to come up with a theme song, alleging that their voice and their songs could give them some much needed inspiration. In truth however, he listens to Sole before falling asleep every night.

Gage - He doesn’t like singing, not at all. Not Redeye, not the Inkspots and certainly not Cole Porter, but Sole? He could make an exception for them. They weren’t awful…and that’s pretty much the closest thing to a compliment they’ll ever get from him.

Hancock - His absolute most favourite thing to do is to record Sole singing, get high with them and have them lipsync the same songs while they play them from the Pipboy. Whenever they break off into laughter or miss or screw up in the timing, he always ends up giggling like a child.

Maxson - Hearing Sole sing is something he wants to remember in his final moments when his time eventually comes, knowing that if he should hear that voice hitting those notes inside his head, peace would have no trouble settling within him.

MacCready - Although he’s not much of a fan of music, he can appreciate the way Sole can sing and low-key wishes he were that good himself. Why spend your life wondering around getting shot at when you can set up in a bar, sing a few songs and get paid for your time? Oh and that one time Sole’s voice ‘apparently’ made him tear up? Bullshit. It was totally raining.

Nick Valentine - Being the literal old soul that he is, no one aside from Codsworth appreciates Sole’s voice more than Nick. It transports him back to a happier time with happier memories and although they belong to another man, he nevertheless appreciates the wonderful gift however unknowingly given by Sole.

Piper Wright - She loves Sole’s voice and always, always tries to listen to it for however long she can hold out without tearing up, but they never fail to pull on her heartstrings with that wonderful, haunting voice from another world, another lifetime. Despite that, her and Nat plonk themselves down in front of Sole and completely devote their attention to them whenever they begin, each smiling so earnestly despite the tears.

Preston Garvey - His love for Sole’s singing is perhaps borderlining on obsession, especially when one of the other companions caught him with his ear pressed against the door with a tender smile on his face while listening to Sole singing in the shower. Only the much too innocent Preston could away with doing that, that’s for sure.

X6-88 - Ever since he first heard Sole’s voice, they’d had him hooked completely. They probably wouldn’t know it at first, considering he would stand silently and not give any indication that he was listening at all, but little would Sole know that he was imprinting that beautiful sound into his mind permanently, accessing the memory of it whenever he’s missing them or whenever he needs that little bit of extra comfort.

#fallout 4 #cait #codsworth #curie #danse #paladin danse #deacon #hancock #gage #porter gage #maccready #maxson #elder maxson #nick valentine #piper wright #preston garvey #x6-88 #companions react

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13-reasons-ideas · 5 years ago

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Finding Peace in Another Part 17

I’m so sorry for the break you guys. Life got in the way and then I had writers block because Monty was being a cranky cranky man and not giving me any information as to what was going on in his head. This chapter went differently than I expected but it turned out really well I think. TW: discussion of the aftermath of death and suicide. Please note the ways of dealing with death in this chapter are from my personal experience and they vary from person to person. Feedback is appreciated. Much love!

Word count: 2640

I met him at home after school and we spent a relaxing hour or so making dinner, joking around with each other. It was nice that after the last few days, we were able to fall back into the lighter side of our relationship. From the way he wrapped his arms around me when I stirred the pots and pans to the soft hip checks while we prepped ingredients, we seemed to be falling back into our usual habits. Our silence was once again comfortable rather than tense and awkward as it was this morning.

I deliberated when to bring up dinner with Scott while we cooked as well as when to ask what Zach had said to him earlier. As we sat down to eat, I decided to broach the Scott topic first and deal with his temper rather than have a civil conversation and then rile his temper again. I began cutting my pork tenderloin as I again deliberated how to best broach Scott and my plans for tomorrow evening. He took another bite and I decided to take my chances at that moment, “hey so this morning Scott walked me to class and we made plans to go for dinner at Rosie’s after practice tomorrow.” I said casually. Monty coughed slightly before he took a second to ensure what he heard is in fact what I said. His face set into a blank stare.

“Why? And when exactly were these plans made?”

“Because he asked me, and I want to go. Like I said, this morning when he walked me to class. You were cooling off and talking to Zach about stuff.” I replied in a bored tone while I pushed my food around.

“Do you know why he asked you Becks? Did you consider my feelings when you agreed?”

“Uh, I guess because he can?” I replied, trying to keep my tone in check. I ignored the latter question, which he didn’t seem too pleased with.

He sighed before responding again, “Well did you? Or do you not remember when we talked about if we are exclusive?” His tone was beginning to become clipped again. Jeeze. Its dinner. Its sandwiches for crying out oud.

“I remember, yes. What I don’t remember is agreeing to not see people of the opposite sex outside of school. Which, might I add, you don’t seem to have an issue with when it’s Tony or Justin and Clay. You don’t even comment when I go to Alex’s place anymore. What makes Scott so different?” I knew I was egging him on but at this point I didn’t care.

“Because Becca, it’s Scott. He’s my best friend.” He told me, as if that explained anything.

“So? He’s my friend too. It’s just dinner Monty, it doesn’t mean anything.” I countered.

“Does he know that?” He asked, his brow arched. So that’s what this is about.

“Yes Montgomery, he does. Besides, I think he’s beginning to suspect something is going on between us. If he’s your best friend, do you really think he would make a move if he even suspected there was something going on between you and I?”

He made a noncommittal sound and was silent as he ate for a moment. His silence only intensified my annoyance. “You know, I only told you because it’s courtesy. I didn’t have to tell you at all.” I told him shortly. He dropped his fork and looked at the ceiling shaking his head.

“That’s not the point Rebecca. You really don’t think Scott has a thing for you? Because he does. We talked about you before you and I became a thing.”

“Okay? Well I have some news for you. If I was interested in Scott like that, I would be with Scott. But I’m not interested him like that. I’m interested in you Monty. I like you.” I huffed. He sighed but did not continue. “I thought you would be happy I’m trying to get to know your friends. I don’t think Scott would make a move or anything if he suspects we have a thing.”

Monty was silent for a while as we ate, the only sound was the metallic scrape of our cutlery against the tempered glass plates.

The silence was beginning to get to me, so I decided to be the bigger person and apologize first, “look, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to catch you off guard and spring it on you. It’s honestly just a dinner between friends. He knows I’m not interested in being anything more than friends with him. And besides, it’s you I am coming home to at the end of the night.”

Monty didn’t look up from his plate but I caught a small smile, which he tried to hide. My man and his lack of ability to emote. He really is adorable. “Okay. I’m sorry I snapped at you. I just wasn’t expecting that. I trust you.” Woah. It was my turn to be taken aback. He had never actually said that to me before. Sure, he had done things to show that he trusted me, but he had never said it outright, in as many words. I wasn’t sure what to say so I reached out and took his hand, squeezing it a couple of times, firmly. He looked up then and smiled a very shy smile at me.

“I trust you too. Completely.”

The Scott situation now sorted; we finished our meals in a once again comfortable silence.

It wasn’t until after we were relaxing on the couch that I brought up the fight this morning and what he and Zach talked about. “Monty? Can we talk about what happened this morning? With Tyler and Zach?”

Monty sighed and I was worried I pressed too hard too soon. “We can talk I guess, yeah.”

“Okay. Do you want to tell me what the fighting was about?” I asked, moving to sit so I could face him.

“Nothing really. Like I said at lunch, I was in a bad mood.”

“So you gave Tyler and them a hard time because…?”

“They were there? I don’t know. I can’t take it out on you or the guys so I don’t know what else you expected? I go talk to Porter? I’m not sure if you have noticed, but the guy isn’t the greatest at his job.”

“No, I don’t expect you to talk to Porter. But you could have talked to me. Or Zach. Or Scott, if you left out the me being your girlfriend thing. Or hell, if it meant you would have talked to him about it, tell him about us.”

“I could have talked to you? And said what?”

“I-I don’t know Monty. That’s the thing. I don’t know what’s going on in your head. I’m trying to understand. But I can’t do that if you don’t let me in. You tell me whatever you need to tell me. I’m here for you. No matter what. You can tell me anything.”

Monty sat silently for a whole five minutes, absorbing what I was telling him. Finally, he spoke, “Okay. I guess… yesterday was a lot of information Rebeca. When I asked about a shirt that morning and you said… I just wasn’t exactly expecting that to be the situation. And I don’t want to call it a situation because that’s not what it is. I really don’t want to say the wrong thing here. And I know you’re probably sick of hearing this from everyone, but I am sorry for what happened and your loss. So trying to process and make sense of that was a lot. And then Zach just showing up kind of… set me off? I knew I couldn’t really do anything about it then, but I also knew it was only a matter of time before I snapped.”

I nodded and put my hand on his knee, urging him to continue. This is good. He’s talking. When he didn’t, I decided to speak up, “that is all fair but Montgomery, you can’t just hit people or lash out when you have an emotional response to something. It’s not healthy.”

“I know. And I am trying, I swear. It’s just hard. But anyway, I didn’t know how to react or what to say to you. And I knew you and Zach were close, I guess it just never occurred to me that you were quite that close. He has a freaking key to your house Becks. Before you say anything yes, I understand why, and you explained it well enough yesterday. That’s not the point. The point is it was a shock and I didn’t know how to process it. So yeah. I lashed out. And it just happened that Tyler and them were around and hell, they’re easy targets. The kid doesn’t fight back. So I took it out on them.”

“Alright well, I guess that makes sense. Chad said it wasn’t as bad as it normally was. Is that because of me?”

“I mean, I guess yeah. You… you make me want to be better. No one has ever made me feel this way. You make me feel so… important. I matter to you.”

I nodded, afraid that if I tried to speak that I would cry. I took a moment to collect myself before asking the question that had been plaguing my mind all day, “What did Zach say to you this morning? I saw him pull you aside after you took a breather. I wanted to ask earlier but I never got the chance.”

“Oh that. He just explained some stuff to me is all. Helped put things in perspective.” I nodded again, wondering if he would continue. “Do you really want to know what he said?”

“Yes.”

“Alright then. He told me to get my shit together first, but then he explained some of what he went through when his dad died. The closest thing I can compare your loss to is maybe when Jeff died, but even then, it’s not the same. That team is my family and he was my brother but it’s different than what you went through.”

“I’ve never said it before and I know I didn’t know him and he was before my time, but I really am sorry that he died.” I interjected, feeling a need to say something, anything to convey my feelings for him, to show him that he isn’t wrong to trust me. He smiled at me before continuing.

“Zach explained that you not telling me about Jake and what happened, wasn’t because you don’t trust me or that I did something wrong, but because you are still working through it in your own way. I knew it wasn’t an easy thing to talk to people about. He said that when you lose someone suddenly, it’s something that knocks you off kilter and you need to work harder to right yourself than when you expect it in some ways. I’m scared I’m going to say the wrong thing here so if I do, I don’t mean to but I’m just going to say it. The most experience I’ve had with,” he paused, unsure of how to continue or how to phrase his thoughts in a kind way.

“You can say it. It’s not a dirty word. It’s a fact. It was suicide.” I cut in.

“Right. I wasn’t sure. The most experience I’ve had with suicide was Hannah Baker and if I’m being honest, it didn’t really affect me that much. I didn’t like her. I didn’t care to know her when she was alive, so it was just… a thing to me. I know people deal with death in their own ways. Zach explained to me that part of how you process it and deal with it, is by not talking about it. Or when you do talk about it, you’re very blunt about it. When I asked if it was like you were moving on, he said no. You just see it as a fact that cannot be changed, so there is no need to tiptoe around it. Which is fair. Not… not that a different way of processing it is not fair as well. Just….” He stopped and looked at me, scared that he had just ruined everything.

“No, no its okay. I know what you mean. Zach is right. We have talked about it in the past and I think that’s part of why we connected and got along so well. We have both experienced tremendous and unspeakable loss, that can’t be explained or understood by other people. He lost his dad, I lost my mom and my brother. Losing her sucked but I had Jake to help me get through it. And then I lost Jake and suddenly I didn’t have my person anymore. My friends and stuff tried to understand and talk to me about it, but the only person I wanted to talk about losing Jake with was Jake. And the thing is, for Zach and you and the team, his dad and Jeff died in car wrecks. Still extremely tragic. I hate that he lost his dad and that you lost your friend and its awful. But when someone dies in a car wreck or they’re sick or anything like that, people don’t have opinions on it. But when someone commits suicide, suddenly everyone has an opinion they want to share with you. The first reaction in both situations is ‘I’m sorry for your loss.’ With a wreck, the next question is ‘can I bring you a casserole?’, with a suicide, the second question or comment is along the lines of ‘the person was selfish and didn’t think about their family or friends’ or, and someone did in fact say this to me, ‘you’re better off it seems like. Now they won’t bring you down with their mood.’ As though my brother didn’t just die, and my dad didn’t just lose his son. The grief and pain you feel, gets minimized and discounted because of people’s perceptions and preconceived notions about suicide and mental health. That’s part of why I don’t tell people. Like I said last night, it’s not because you have ever made it seem like that is how you would react or anything, it’s just in my experience, that’s what happens.” I explained, hoping I conveyed my point appropriately. He nodded at me and checked his watch before standing up and leaning down to place a kiss to my lips and pull me off the couch with him.

“As much as I don’t want to leave right now, I should probably head home soon baby girl.”

“Okay.”

He pulled me into his chest and enveloped my tiny frame in his arms. He placed a gentle kiss to the top of my head.

“Thank you for explaining stuff to me today.” I spoke into his chest, my voice coming out muffled against his shirt.

“No problem. And I’m sorry for making the Scott thing such a big deal, even if I’m not exactly thrilled at the idea, I understand you have your own friends too.” Montgomery took a step back before leaning down and kissing me deeply. “I should get going before my mom sends the cavalry to find me.”

“I know. Just wish you didn’t have to. My bed is so cold without you now.”

“I know Becks.” He hugged me tightly again, before we walked to the door together. “I’ll see you in the morning. Our spot?”

“With a black coffee with your name on it, promise.” After we parted, I watched him drive down the street and got myself ready for bed, thinking of just how important the last few days were going to be to our relationship going forward.

#finding peace in another #monty x reader #monty de la Cruz fanfic #monty imagine #montgomery de la cruz imagine #montgomery de la cruz x reader #montgomery de la cruz #montgomery de la cruz x oc #monty x oc #13 reasons why #fanfiction #fanfic #trigger warning #FEEDBACK PLEASE #zach dempsey #Please be kind #please be respectful

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thesimplyluxuriouslife · 6 years ago

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225: Trust the Transition: How to Step Through and Embrace the Change You Seek

“Times of transition are strenuous but I love them. They are an opportunity to purge, rethink priorities, and be intentional about new habits. We can make our new normal any way we want.” —Kristin Armstrong, three-time Olympic gold medalist - road cycling

As September arrives I find myself torn between the schedule I love during the summer months and the rigorous schedule I know that awaits me with school's commencement.

It doesn't mean I don't enjoy what the new school year brings - new students, new connections, an energy of excitement and curiosity that is a large part of why I love teaching, but when any transition knocks on our door, if we are happy with where we are, it is hard to welcome it in. No matter what amazing opportunities it may be bringing as a hostess gift.

In such a scenario where there is the gift of what we have loved and the potential for something awesome to be revealed as we go through the transition that is letting us know, that just the way it is, if we shift our perspective to one of gratitude, the moving through and forward becomes easier.

How fortunate are any one of us to not remain stagnant? Think for a moment about a stagnant individual. They may feel safe, they may feel certain, but such certainty is false. After all, as children the reason it is imperative that we learn how to communicate, how to care for our bodies and feed our minds is to initially survive, but then to thrive and enrich our lives. This momentum, this way of life is a good way to live our entire lives. Why? Because the world never stops shifting, progressing and offering opportunities to improve. Never.

It can be tempting as adults when we think we have figured it all out to slow down, and even stop and just be. This is not to say we shouldn't relax from time to time, find a healthier balance, etc., but so long as a new generation is graduating, growing up and trying to find their place in the world, there will always be new ideas, and often, so long as we remain nimble, we can benefit from them as well, and even partake in the sharing of knowledge.

Part of a civilized society is knowing how to move and work together with a diverse breadth of people, and along the way enabling all to find their way without taking away the basic rights of any human being who is living consciously and respectfully of others.

With all of this said, transitions can be scary or exciting, exhilarating and even full of learning opportunities. It is simply a manner of how we view them. Today I'd like to share with you eight ways to step into and through any transition that you may be confronted with at the moment, and even go so far as to embrace it.

Grasp the reason for the difficulty

Psychologist Shannon Kolakowaki points out that a significant reason for the difficulty of any transition in which are lives are changing as we once knew them is because our identity, how we may have defined ourselves or were seen by others, is changing.

Recognize the power you are giving the transition to affect your emotions

Psychology Today reminds that there isn't a predefined type of transition that is harder than another. We give a transition the power of either being difficult or easy to maneuver through. In other words, our minds play a crucial role in how we approach the changes we are going through.

If we choose to see the transition as an opportunity or a goal we have worked long and hard for, such change would be reason to become excited; however, if it is a change that is thrust upon us, we can drag our feet and make it even more difficult by fighting what is inevitable.

Honor the transition

Any life transition, whether it is relocating to a new city, moving through a divorce or going through menopause benefits being recognized for playing a role in our life journey. As Sonia Choquette shared in our conversation about her own divorce after more than 20 years, she wasn't angry at her ex, but rather appreciative for the love and time that was shared, but also observant that it was time to move forward.

One of the hardest transitions in nearly everyone's life has been found to be the relocation from a home we have felt safe in or found great peace. During such times of transition, pay homage in your own unique way in order to provide closure, but also to celebrate the time you spent and the memories that will forever be with you.

Become a great student of the transition that awaits

When you know a transition is in your future, perhaps transitioning from college to a career or from a career to retirement, become a student of the transition you will inevitably go through. By learning all that you can, you maximize the experience, enabling it be as positive as possible.

Reflect and remind

Everyone goes through some type of transition throughout their lives, and often many. If we take a moment, we probably have moved through some transitions quite effortlessly because we didn't think twice or try to fight it. But on the flip-side, there were inevitably transitions we can remember vividly - during adolescence, making career changes, making relationship changes, making lifestyle changes.

As you go through the transition you are in at the moment or will be in due time, reflect on those transitions that went well for you. And even regarding those that were hard, assess why they were hard and how you can change what was in your control to improve the next transition in your life.

Celebrate the opportunity for a rebirth of sorts

Whether the transition is something you want or something you'd prefer not to have to go through, shift your perspective. Something as common as getting older, shift how you perceive "getting older". As we are seeing today, those in their fifties and sixties are far from what I recall of generations past in the same decade. With more knowledge, comes better ways of living and improving the quality of one's experience. In such an instance, celebrate all the experience and knowledge you have acquired and keep using those tools to learn more, explore more and enrich your life even more as well.

Surround yourself with positive energy

Maybe you have children who are leaving home for college which opens up your schedule, maybe you are moving into a different line of work - taking on more responsibility, maybe you are returning from a life-changing experience and want to transition into a new way of living. Whatever your transition is, step fully into it and spend time with those who will support you along your new path.

As there will be times of excitement where new adventures and experiences have your full attention, there will also be times when you question what you have chosen to do (or if not chosen, question if you can be as happy as you once were). In these moments, having people that will be understanding of your journey, but not wallow and wax nostalgic about the past, wishing in some small way, that the way it was would return, is imperative to navigating successfully through these hiccups that are inevitable.

The good news is that they will subside, but perhaps never entirely disappear. After all, that is a good thing, in my opinion, as it means your journey has been rich, memorable and deeply and intensely lived fully.

Trust that what is not being revealed is worth seeing and experiencing

Even when we do step eagerly toward a new way of living, we can begin to doubt that we made the right decision. When in fact, what you are feeling is probably fear rather than doubt (read this post - The Difference Between Being Scared and Having Doubts). And if you are feeling fear, it is actually good sign as it an indication that you are indeed living a life that is true to your most authentic self. Why? Because what you are feeling in that moment is a deep ache for what you wish you attain, or a way of living you wish to make your own. If you didn't want it, if you didn't believe in it, you wouldn't be fearful that it wouldn't happen.

The universe will not tell us how it will all work out. Nope, that is where faith in yourself, trust in your instincts about what is best for you and what you are willing to work for comes into play.

Transitions are opportunities. If we shift our perspective to accept this, the journey through them becomes far easier to navigate and even at times quite pleasurable to enjoy.

SIMILAR POSTS/EPISODES FROM THE ARCHIVES YOU MIGHT ENJOY:

Why Not . . . Extinguish Self-Doubt?

Why to Do When You Don't Know How the Future Will Unfold, episode #205

How to Let Go of Self-Imposed Limitations, #186

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Petit Plaisir:

~Visit your favorite local bakery to pick up a fresh loaf of bread for the week.

Whether you enjoy toast in the morning (such as avocado toast), bread for sandwiches for lunch or bread with dinner, knowing it is homemade and a varietal you love welcomes a simple extra flavor to your week.

-my weekly fresh bread pick-up at a favorite local bakery in Bend (I often pick up my loaf bi-weekly as I freeze half of the loaf)~

~my favorite loaf from the bakery - Black Butte Porter - in use with my breakfast avocado toast (recipe here)-

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