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piastrinorris · 2 years ago

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An Unambiguous Love [7/10]: A Higher Love

1 :: 2 :: 3 :: 4 :: 5 :: 6 :: 7 :: 8 :: 9 :: 10 ::

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Pairing: Steve Harrington x Eddie Munson x f!Reader

Genre: fluff

Summary: Your favourite customers really make it easier returning to the town you never went to school in. If only your friends at work would stop trying to play matchmaker between you.

Chapter 7 word count: 3393

A/N: Content warning for use of marijuana in this chapter!

Over the next few weeks, you’re finally starting to feel as though Hawkins is your home. A steady group of friends, a good job that you (mostly) love. There’s a hell of a lot more foot traffic in the store, especially around lunchtime and just after school. There’s never any worry that it’ll cut into your daily time with Steve and Eddie, though, nobody seems to bother you whenever either of them are in. At first you wonder if Tiff’s told her friends about her whole theory about you and Steve being star-crossed lovers, or whether Ralph really cares enough about his constant joking about you and Eddie to recruit others to spy on you both, too. But neither of your colleagues seem to interact much with any of the customers. Not even a glimmer of recognition.

Whenever you had to close up the store, you were almost never on your own, even though your colleagues would mysteriously vanish. Sometimes Steve would show up, since Robin tends to convince him to close up early and also rushes out the door before Steve can do so much as offer her a ride home. Sometimes Eddie would show up, provided he wasn’t meeting his Hellfire friends or playing with his band. Sometimes, in glorious little crossfires, both would join you, though they were certainly no help in your closing process.

You’d introduced your family to the whole gang all at once, which certainly helped stop your brother’s insistence that Steve was some kind of boyfriend. They took to everyone well, even Eddie, though you’re again grateful that the others were there to help him escape your parents’ stereotype-based judgements. But ultimately, they liked everyone. Which means that even your nosiest neighbours would have nothing to gossip about if any of their cars were parked in your driveway while your family were away.

It’s a shame that neither Nancy, Johnathan, nor Robin can make it. Apparently, it’s Will’s birthday, so all the teens, Johnathan and Nancy are having dinner together as a “family”. Steve was starting to get upset at his lack of an invite, so you’d told Steve that as the pair of you happened to have the weekend off, he could keep you company instead. He agreed happily, but only once you could also guarantee that Eddie would be there, too. “You know. So the cat has options,” his explanation was.

“Right,” you nod slowly. “You mean your best friend who hasn’t slept on anyone else since that one time he napped on you.”

Steve shakes his head. “He’s recruited you! I’m telling you! This is a cat-spiracy, going all the way to the top!” He points up to the ceiling, a wild expression on his face and a gleam in his eye.

Thankfully, Eddie had arrived on the scene by that point to help you talk the tin-foil hat off of Steve, and formulate the plan. Eddie would pick Steve up in his van, and drive him over to yours. That was… Pretty much it. Steve added in a little extra bonus of promising to pick out some of the latest releases at Family Video to sneak out for you all to watch together.

Now that the day has arrived, you’ve spent so much time tidying up that you barely allow yourself any time to get yourself ready. By the time they show up, you’ve got a nice enough outfit on, but your hair is still wet and you haven’t prepared any food and if they wanted alcohol, they’d better have at least one decent fake ID between them because your family haven’t replenished their supply and your secret bottle barely has enough to mix a drink to your tastes, after that night at the Wheelers’.

You go out to the driveway to greet them, as Steve tumbles out of the van looking almost green in complexion, holding onto the van for dear life before practically running to you and hugging you close. “I’ve never been happier to see you,” he sounds shaken, as though Eddie’s driving has really shaken him up. In his defence, from what you’ve seen of how he drives, you’ve never accepted a ride from Eddie for the fear you’d end up the exact same way.

You can’t get mad at him for it, though. Especially not when, as you let Steve go so that he can sit down inside, Eddie strides over with that big, infectious smile of his as he pulls you in for an embrace, too. “There’s our girl!” he says into your shoulder, squeezing you tightly. “You smell good.”

“It’s just what I always use,” you mumble back shyly.

“Well, you always smell good,” he half-shrugs with a smaller smile as he follows Steve inside. Feeling that warmth inside grow, the one that always appears whenever you’re around your friends, you take a deep breath of pure happiness in, and head back in.

You find Steve sitting on your couch in a near-foetal position, clutching a cushion. You gently scratch the top of his head with your fingertips, like you would with Marvin. “You doing okay? You want some water or anything?”

“I’m fine,” Steve looks up at you with a reassuring smile. “Just… Settling.”

“Aw, c’mon, Stevie, I’m not that bad!” Eddie chuckles, throwing himself down on the couch next to Steve. “He’s just being dramatic.”

“I’m still not getting into that van with you anytime soon, Munson,” you shake your head. “Now, heads up, I might have sort of lost track of time and… Forgotten to make us any food. Sorry.”

“That’s cool! I’m not hungry right now anyway. And I don’t think Stevie’s keen on eating for a while, either,” he pats Steve’s shoulder.

“Say that again,” Steve mumbles, and you laugh.

“Why don’t we put on whatever Steve brought over then, first, huh?” you offer, and Steve looks up with a grin.

“Oh, you are going to love this! Double-feature special,” he takes two VHSes out from beneath his jacket. The Breakfast Club and Teen Wolf. “Hot off the shelves.”

“Dude!” Eddie leans his whole body against Steve excitedly. “You know how badly I wanted to watch Teen Wolf when it came out?!”

“And I didn’t have anyone to take me to see The Breakfast Club,” you reply wistfully. “I always wanted to. I even saw it on your shelves the other day when I was there.”

“Yeah, I know,” Steve smiles. “Wanna watch this first?”

“Oh, I mean, Eddie also wanted to watch -” you start, but Eddie cuts you off.

“Host’s choice first, I insist! I - uh-oh, look who’s here,” he himself gets cut off at the distraction - Marvin excitedly hopping up onto the arm of the couch next to Steve, who leans away. “Aww, hey, Marv!” Eddie sits on the floor, blows little kissing noises between his lips and wiggles his fingers until the cat jumps down and curls itself up near Eddie’s legs.

“You know your way around a cat, huh,” you smile affectionately, hearing Marvin’s purrs from where you’re still standing by the couch.

“Yeah, there was one I befriended at the trailer park, before I was living with Wayne,” Eddie recalls as he pets Marvin. “All black, used to call him Jet. No idea if he actually had a name, or a family. But he always came running to me whenever I’d come over.” Eddie’s expression turns more morose. “But then people would whisper, and stare, and pull their kids away from me. Talking about how I must be… Summoning familiars now. Then one day, Jet was gone,” he shrugs. You look horrified, but he comforts you quickly, “Oh, no, no, he was fine, Wayne just took him to the plant and gave him to one of his coworkers. I’ve seen him since,” Eddie nods. “Closest I’ve had to a pet.”

“I had a dog,” Steve pipes up. “Yeah, a Labrador. Called Cheese. Dad said it was a stupid name for a dog, but he and Mom always said if I was gonna get a dog, it would be all mine. Kinda like your deal with - with that,” he points at Marvin, looking disgusted. You push back a giggle. “I loved Cheese so much,” Steve smiles. “Best dog a boy could have. Until one day, Mom and Dad said he’d outgrown the house. Not sure what that means, our house is huge,” he let out a defeated chuckle. “But… Yeah. I didn’t want to get another dog after that. Who’d compare to Cheese, you know?”

You sit on the arm of the couch and hold Steve, resting your chin on his head. “There’s plenty of other dogs out there!”

“I know. There’s one at the shelter I’ve been keeping a close eye on. Parents are around even less than usual, and I’m a grown-ass adult now. But it’s a lot of commitment,” Steve taps his fingers together.

“You know, Marv’s pretty damn low-maintenance,” you point out in a singsong tone, and Steve laughs again.

“C’mon, you know how it is. You’re a - you’re a cat person, or you’re a dog person, right? And that’s it.”

Eddie frowns. “I dunno, dude. I like ’em both just the same. I don’t think it’s that arbitrary.” He turns to you, not noticing the existential stare coming from Steve. “You want me to put the tape in now?”

“Yeah, sure. Hey, big guy,” you nudge Steve, “you wanna be in the middle this time?”

“It’s big boy, for starters, if you’re gonna keep stealing my nicknames for him, at least get them right,” Eddie points at you, making you laugh. “And second, I’m calling dibs on being the middle one again!”

The three of you watch The Breakfast Club together, you curled up between Eddie’s legs as he lays across your couch, leaning against Steve, whose arm drapes down past Eddie’s shoulder enough for you to hold his hand, occasionally playing your fingers between his anytime you need to fidget. It’s comfortable, and safe, and just… Nice. Natural. Like every time you all hang out.

As you’re watching it, seeing the characters getting high, you grow more and more curious. You know about Eddie’s… Side business. You know Steve’s gotten high before. You wonder if they’ll laugh you off for asking, but you bite the bullet anyway. “Hey, guys?” you ask as the credits roll, to a pair of half-asleep grunts. “Is that… Really what getting high is like?”

Both boys sit up, causing you to almost tumble. You regain composure to look at them as they stare back at you incredulously. “You haven’t ever been stoned?” Steve asks.

“You shake your head, suddenly shy. A grin slowly spreads on Eddie’s face. “I have some of my supply in the van, if you wanted to give it a try.”

You look back at him in horror. “Oh my god, Eddie, what if you were pulled over? That’s so dangerous!”

He shrugs, “Nobody’s done it, yet. And since I’m a Munson, if they haven’t done it by now, they clearly don’t care enough to. So, did you want to try?” You nod, and he smiles widely. “I’ll go get it out.”

“You mind if I use your phone?” Steve asks, and you shake your head. “I’ll call for pizza, my treat. Trust me, you’re gonna want food in the house.”

You head out with Eddie to see for yourself that he was at least being safe with how he stored his… Supplies. He moves several boxes around until he sees one that says “merchandise” and pulls it over with a satisfied “ah”. Digging through some shirts, he picks up a steel lunchbox and holds it high. “Here she is,” he taps it lightly. A shirt falls out of the box in the process, and you pick it up and read it out of curiosity.

“Corrode-” You interrupt yourself with a gasp. “Are you making T-shirts now?!”

Eddie blushes slightly. “Well, y’know. Just trying out designs…” He holds his hand out to take it back from you but you check the label and flip it over your shoulder.

“It’s in my size and it happened to fall into my hands? No way, dude, I’m keeping this. It’ll sell for millions when you kids make it big!” you call over to him as you run back into your house.

Before long, you’re sitting on your bed, both boys either side of you, pizza box out on the foot of the bed. Eddie rolls a blunt as Steve explains what he and Eddie plan to do with you.

“So, you directly smoking this could be… Bad, if you don’t do it just right, so you let us deal with the joint itself,” he starts. “We’ll take it in turns to take a hit each - that means we’ll breathe it in first - and then we’ll blow the smoke into your mouth. You’re gonna make this face,” Steve opens his mouth slightly, but keeping his lips taut, “and we’re gonna just put our mouths on yours. As soon as we start doing that, you’re gonna breathe the smoke in, okay?” You nod, swallowing hard. Steve smiles, “That’s our girl.” You’re used to Eddie saying that, that’s just his way of joking around, but hearing it in Steve’s voice sounds… Strange, but not in a bad way. Just different. “So then, you hold that smoke in, keep breathing in, until we tell you to blow it out again, okay?”

Eddie lights the joint up, then looks over at you. “Sure you’re ready?” he asks, and you nod again. He places it in his mouth, and you watch the end of it glow brighter as he breathes in. He pulls it away, handing it to Steve, and you try to replicate the face Steve made. Eddie nods with a reassuring smile, confirming you were doing just right, and holds your jaw in his hand as he presses his mouth against yours. You feel the warmth of Eddie’s breath mixed with the citrus-y taste of the smoke and breathe it all in together. You feel the smoke start to hit the back of your throat and reduce how intensely you breathe in to try and stop yourself from coughing it all out. It seems to work. Eddie taps your jaw and you assume that’s a sign he’s about to pull away. You close your mouth as quickly as possible, and he starts counting you down. When he reaches zero, you slowly blow out. “You sure you haven’t done that before, sweetheart? You’re a natural,” Eddie smirks.

“How’re you feeling?” Steve asks gently.

You contemplate for a second. “Not sure. Don’t think it’s doing anything yet.”

“Yeah, this’ll take a few puffs to really kick in, especially since you’re getting it second-hand. All yours, Stevie,” he gestures.

At first, you’re so focused on getting things right, you don’t have any mental energy to spare to think about the intimacy of this situation. And when you’re finally accustomed to it enough, your brain starts to feel… Fuzzy. Like it has to buffer a little every time you move. When you relay that to the boys, they decide that’s a good time to take a break. Eddie takes an ashtray out of his steel box and puts it on your nightstand, extinguishing the half-smoked blunt and leaving it to rest there.

As he sits back on the bed, he muses, “You know, Stevie, you know a little too much about this game for me to not recognise you as a customer.”

Steve scoffs, “Please, like I could risk my own rep taking a hit back then.”

“But think of how much better your life would have been sooner if you’d known me!” he grins, shuffling over and resting his head on Steve’s shoulder.

Steve rolls his eyes, looks over at you and laughs. “How’s that pizza coming along?”

You stare at the slice in awe. “I know… You ordered from the same place we always do two blocks down… But… Why does it taste…”

“Better?” Steve asks with a smirk. “That’s the weed at work.”

“Oh my god, I get it now,” you say in a hushed tone as you take another bite, to Steve and Eddie’s amusement. You start to feel very warm, though, wafting your clothes and blowing air up against your face. “You guys getting hot, too?” you ask.

“A little, but it is still pretty smoky in here,” Steve shrugs.

“I might just get changed into some PJs, is that okay?” you ask, and the other two nod. You quickly take out some shorts from a drawer in your dresser, and the shirt you’d previously thrown on top of it, and head into your bathroom. You get changed in no time, and return to be greeted by a low whistle from Eddie. “Alright, maybe we could get Corroded Coffin shirts to sell.”

You blush heavily. “Well, you’d want more than one model, right? How about you, Stevie?” You ruffle his hair. “You’re a couple inches away from being headbanger materi- oh my god,” you groan as Steve and Eddie side-eye each other and start snorting with laughter.

Steve goes to the bathroom to rearrange his hair, naturally, and Eddie takes his jacket off. You notice the distressed band shirt he was wearing has the sleeves cut off, you can see the majority of his tattoos. You start tracing them with your fingertips, and he hums happily. “You like ‘em?”

“Yeah,” you muse. “The dragon’s my favourite, I think.”

He hisses through his teeth, “Actually, since there’s only two legs, it’s technically a wyvern, but I’ll let you off. Just this once,” he scrunches his face up at you, and you pull one back. You both laugh, and you end up collapsing to lay so that your head lands on his shoulder, just as Steve comes back.

“Oh, cuddling without me, now?” he asks jokingly.

“Of course not, Harrington, get over here, sweetheart,” Eddie waves over. Steve climbs onto the bed to spoon you, and Eddie frowns. “I thought I called dibs on being the middle one!”

You giggle, “Aww, Steve’s kissing abilities really did a number on you at Nancy’s, huh!”

Eddie shrugs with an upside-down smile. “I think all of that night was fun.” He looks at both of you, and Steve makes a sound of agreement from behind you.

“Surprised you’re not all over us now you’re under the influence again,” Steve mumbles in your ear, and you gasp sharply.

“I only kissed you in the game! You started kissing me once we got outside, thank you!”

Steve and Eddie both laugh, until Eddie props himself up on his elbow, taking your jaw in his free hand. “So does that mean it’s my turn to start, to make things even?”

You’re still in that slight state of delay where you’ve heard what he’s said but you haven’t quite processed it until he’s close enough that, once you’ve realised it’s definitely something you’d like to do again, his lips are already on yours. It’s not the hard, fast-paced kissing you remember from that night at Nancy’s - it’s soft and affectionate. It’s exactly what you need right now.

You’re taken out of the moment by something tickling your neck, which you soon identify as Steve kissing just below your ear. You giggle, “You good there?”

Steve hums in agreement, “Yeah, just got impatient.”

“By all means, Stevie, don’t let me interrupt,” Eddie smirks, rolling away slightly to give Steve room to bend down and kiss you, too. It’s just as sweet and tender as Eddie’s. The gentle thrumming of your brain on its high amplifies in the best way as all three of you embrace each other. While any combination of two of you are sharing kisses, the third kisses every part of exposed skin they can. Necks, arms, shoulders, faces. Eddie, especially, likes to nibble on yours and Steve’s earlobes when he’s not an active kisser; Steve prefers to have his hands all over the both of you the whole time. You’re just happy to be sharing new experiences with your two best friends.

Eventually, as the three of you finally rest, laying in each others’ arms and staring at the ceiling, you realise something and burst into laughter. “We still haven’t even watched Teen Wolf yet!”

#steve harrington x eddie munson x reader #steddie x reader #steve harrington x eddie munson x you #steddie x you #steddie imagine #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fic #stranger things imagine #stranger things x reader #fluff #aul #*myfics

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2hoothoots · 2 years ago

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Hiii Riley, I have a few questions 👀 Does Dogen still like hats? 🤔 Also it seems like he’s gotten control over his blastokinesis just fine (so proud of him) but are there still things that will set him off and cause him to, yknow, explode if he doesn’t keep his emotions in check? I’m also wondering how other’s perceive him if that’s the case.

Lmao I just think Dogen is neat I wanna know more about him in regards to your au 👁👁

oh my guy LOVES his hats. number one hat fan. he wears his beanie with like casual wear and his fedora is for work or special occasions when he's in his suit, but i imagine he has like a whole wardrobe of them.

moooore rambling under the cut

i think the hats are also partly a sensory thing, and partly serve to dampen his powers. i think in the au, he's got enough of a handle on his blastokinesis that he wears them mainly for the former reason than the latter? he shaves his head for sensory reasons, and he just feels more comfortable with something against his scalp.

(i have this whole semi-related headcanon about psychic pressure points/leylines on the scalp, which is why the hand-to-the-temple pose or the forehead-touch vibe check are a thing. anyway i imagine because of that a lot of psychics are very picky about like sensory input around the head/scalp, so hats can help with that as well as being a fashion thing. like i hc raz is very picky about it and that's why he wears his helmet, but also he can't stand light pressure, it has to either be like a firm squeeze or nothing at all so normal hats don't do it for him. if you see him pressing his palms against his scalp it's a big tell that he's really stressed lol)

uh but also, like I allude to in Face Thy Doom, i think a lot of his hats have a little tin foil liner. he doesn't need the full foil hat like he did as a kid, but sometimes his powers can get a little leaky, especially on a bad day. and that can make it hard for other people to be around him (well, except for raz, whose skull is thick enough that he doesn't notice lol). so he wears that to help dampen it, and i also imagine he works in like a small private, psychoinsulated office in hq, both to reduce outside stimulus and to stop him from messing up anyone else's day.

i think he doesn't accidentally blow up people's heads any more lol, but i imagine that getting his powers under control is kind of a lifelong thing. like we see in a memory vault, even in adulthood Compton struggled with his blasto when he was feeling overwhelmed. i think Dogen has enough help (psychotherapy, good support structures, etc) that he doesn't have those kinds of accidents, but it's still something he struggles with.

i kinda think that's one of the reasons he does fieldwork, actually. once he learns to weaponise it, he finds it's actually really helpful to have an outlet like that for his energy. blowing stuff up in his work life means he's less likely to blow stuff up in his personal life, haha. (plus, i think he was definitely... not cajoled, but certainly encouraged to become an agent. he's a real asset to the Psychonauts, and a complete powerhouse – out of the au trio he's by far the one with the most raw power. he can get some really impressive stuff done, as long as he has someone with him to help point him in the right direction.)

anyway for the other stuff (like how other people treat him and what can cause him to blow up), i wrote like a whole fic about this haha. the tl;dr is it's a blessing and a curse! he's learned to harness his powers enough to do some amazing things with them, but also it's a big strain on him, and something that he's probably going to be learning to deal with his whole life. it means that the ways he moves through life are markedly different to how a "normal" psychic would, but it's something he's learned to deal with by using coping strategies and having a supportive network around him and being aware of his limits/triggers. (also, if it wasn't obvious, this is all extremely allegorical hahahaha)

#psychic powers as allegory for neurodivergence go brrrr #tsym for the ask rem!! i am ALWAYS down to ramble about dogen i love him.#if dogen has a million fans i am one of them etc etc #future superstar agents au #if this is very long and rambling it's because i wrote it on the bus home and didn't proofread it before posting #this is just straight from the heart lol

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thecarnivorousmuffinmeta · 3 years ago

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What if paranoid Bella told Carlisle what's going on and enlisted his help? Like if she overheard/learned something that made her think he might help, or if this is the Bella who's stuck in a time loop and figures it's worth a shot and at worse she'd be yeeted right back to the beginning of the loop if the vampire doctor is in cahoots with his scary son?

Anon is referring to Paranoid Bella. Now, Paranoid Bella has tried something like this once before, sort of, Billy called Carlisle on her behalf. It went places so awful I refuse to put them down in words.

Here the question is what if Bella asked Carlisle herself.

Why Paranoid Bella Would Never Do This

She can't trust any of the Cullens, for all she knows, they're in league with Edward. Bella's wearing her tin foil hat and that tin foil hat has kept her alive, dammit. For all she knows, this Dracula's Bride thing is just what vampires do and she's the latest victim.

She would never, ever, trust any of the Cullens. Ever.

Dr. Cullen seems nice as he stitches her up? IT'S A TRAP!

As For Time Loop Bella...

Anon's referring to this post, which... You really want this AU, don't you? I think that's conflating things a little too much here, and gives us way too different of a set up.

That Bella would probably try anything and everything, but she's also reached a point of nihilism where she just doesn't care anymore and might just do it to fuck with these people.

Even if she tells Carlisle, she probably keeps looping, and is well aware of this. Life is misery, pain, and endless.

Kind of misses the spirit of your post (which I assume is to get Paranoid Bella out of the miserable hole she's stuck in).

Bella Takes a Leap of Faith

But alright, Carlisle Cullen seems unusually cool and rational as he stitches her up. Maybe it's the pain talking, or Bella's own increasing desperation with her latest brush with morality, but she realizes just as Edward does that this is untenable.

If Bella keeps hanging around these people, as Edward insists she does (Edward having insisted on this goddamn birthday party at his house), then she will die sooner or later. Either Edward or his family will eat her.

This cannot go on and, as of that moment, Bella doesn't know that Edward is going to attempt to leave her within a few days.

This is the first time she's alone with Carlisle, the head of the coven, and probably the only time she ever will be. This is the only chance she'll ever have to ask for help from someone who can actually do something about it.

Bella interrupts Carlisle's "Edward's just weirdly religious" explanation and tells him that Edward's a lunatic. She needs help.

Carlisle has a, "Wait, what?" moment. He knew she was jumpy, very nervous, but she'd seemed very happy with Edward. Also, from his perspective, Edward is a very noble spirit if very young. Edward went on the human diet and came back, presumably understanding the inherent worth of human life. Edward voted not to murder Bella after the truck.

Yes things have been... weird, and Carlisle was concerned, still is about some parts, but it seemed to be going so well.

It's not.

He sits there in numb horror as Bella tells him all about the times Edward snuck through her window (greasing it to make it silent), to stare at her while she sleeps, the time he threatened to kill himself upon her inevitable death, how he has admitted to following her everywhere and spying on her through the thoughts of those around her, and all about that time he contemplated the murder of his entire Biology class to eat Bella: his personal brand of heroin.

Carlisle's listening to someone talk about a completely different person.

But Bella's insistent, Edward Cullen is Ted Bundy in the making, and Bella now has no other recourse but to turn to Carlisle. HELP. ME.

Well, they don't have much time left.

Edward will be back any moment and Carlisle... there must be some misunderstanding, right? Except, with some of these details, there's no misunderstanding this. If Edward actually said and did all of this: then this is horrible.

Regardless, it's very clear that Bella wants nothing to do with the Cullens and especially with Edward. That makes things very clear: Carlisle has to talk to Edward on Bella's behalf and get him to back the fuck off.

Though Carlisle does warn Bella that, as she knows the secret, she and the coven are technically breaking the law. If she's found out, Bella will either be murdered or turned. It's not necessarily likely anyone will find out but... It's not exactly a great position for the coven to be in, or Bella for that matter.

This is news to Bella.

Bella says she'll think about this vampire business (she's not thrilled) and really doesn't want to join the Cullens, and Carlisle will talk to Edward.

The talk doesn't go well.

Edward denies, denies, denies, and... admits some of it might be true were you to look at it from a the naive angle of a pure young woman who knows nothing of the world. Edward wasn't sneaking into Bella's room to rape/eat her, no, he was protecting her! From spiders! And that time he forced her to ride home with him, he was afraid she wouldn't be able to drive after fainting! And that time he almost murdered all of Biology... That was out of context, Carlisle.

Carlisle grows increasingly horrified as Edward's every answer confirms that he is, in fact, horrifying. This is someone who cares nothing about human life, not truly, and is a predator.

Carlisle immediately tells Edward it's over. Consider this a restraining order from Bella, he is never to speak to her, never to be near her, never to see her ever again.

Edward implodes.

Carlisle now hates him, this is terrible, Bella his true love doesn't love him at all and poisoned Carlisle against him, and she's ruined everything!

Spiraling further into madness, as one does, Edward concludes that Bella was a vile villainess: that this was her plan the entire time. She faked her love for him, faked being this utterly wonderful and perfect being, so that she could destroy his family as well as Edward himself? Why? Because she's the type who wants to see the world burn.

Edward's love turns to utter hatred, he's back in Biology again where this little girl dares to disrupt his life, only it's 1000 times worse. Bella Swan is the greatest evil that has ever walked this Earth.

And now he's a man with nothing to lose.

Carlisle's love for him? Already gone. Carlisle's faith in Edward's humanity? Gone. Why should Edward hold back anymore? Why shouldn't he have what he wants?

Within a few days, by the time Edward was originally going to leave, he sneaks into Bella's house and murders her in her bedroom. He then likely desecrates her corpse so she's unrecognizable, to make her as ugly in death as she should have been in life.

Edward then flees, leaving the coven for good, and returns to his diet of people. Not murderers and rapists anymore though, that pretense is done, because he's fully embraced being a monster.

I imagine out of pettiness he kills women who look like Bella.

Conclusion

Congratulations, anon, you have lost the Twilight Yandere Simulator.

#twilight #twilight meta #twilight headcanon #twilight renaissance #bella swan #paranoid bella #carlisle cullen #edward cullen #anti edward cullen #edward/bella #meta #headcanon #opinion

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let-them-read-fics · 4 years ago

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BP Headcanon / One Shot: Raising A Kid With Lisa

Requested By Anon: Lisa / Reader while they're raising a kid

Quote Requested By @ssamssamu: "I knew I did from that first moment we met. It was… not love at first sight exactly, but- familiarity. Like: oh, hello, it’s you. It’s going to be you."

Pairing: Lisa x Fem!Reader

Warnings / Misc. -- Fluff, Slight Angst, Happy Ending

Disclaimer: This writing is a work of fiction, and no disrespect is meant for those mentioned herein.

A/N: This one's kinda long, guys 😳 I hope you enjoy, though. Thank you for the requests!

PS ~ Your child is female in this

♡ Happy Reading ♡

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

Dear lord... 🛐🤰

Let's get started

First off: milf

Second off: you'd either come home to find her, your child, and your 5 cats passed out, or chaotically playing with one another

WHEN YOU'RE NEW PARENTS:

If you give birth, she's literally the most supportive wife ever

Getting you any and everything you need, no matter the time of day or night

"Lis?" You ask into the darkness, voice coming out rough as it slips past your sleepy lips. Her soft snoring is cut off in an instant as she wakes up, ready to help.

"I'm here, my love." She yawns, quickly stretching before reaching forward to take your hand into her own.

"Can you get me some ice chips?" You wince, hating to make her trek all the way down the hall when she was comfortable and sleeping so well.

"On it, baby." She stands and brushes her lips against your forehead, reassuring you that she doesn't mind the task.

"Thank you; I love you," you call after her as she walks towards the door. She turns to you just as she reaches it, pressing a kiss to her fingers before holding a finger heart up for you.

"I love you more."

----

"Here you go," she says, helping you sit up in the hospital bed. "I got you a little water with it, just like you like." She raises the cup for you, tilting it so that the cool liquid can slide towards your lips, soothing your dry mouth. The styrofoam squeaks lightly, momentarily accompanying the sound of the beeping monitor that's keeping track of your vitals.

You gently push the cup away after you're satisfied, wrapping your arms around her waist as she puts it on the bedside table. She cuddles you back, kissing the top of your head.

"Thanks again, babe. I don't know what I'd do without you." You mumble against her, still exhausted from all that you went through earlier today. She crouches down beside you, taking your hands within her own as she looks up into your eyes.

"You've made me the happiest woman in the world, Y/N/N; I have you and our cute little baby girl now. I think that's more than a fair trade for getting ice chips at 3 in the morning."

You laugh, leaning forward to rest your forehead against hers.

"We did pretty good, didn't we?" You ask after a moment, gazing over at the clear bin your daughter is laying in, resting peacefully.

"We sure did." Lisa says, feeling tears prick at her eyes. She raises a hand to your cheek, cupping the soft skin as she looks at you tenderly.

If she gives birth, you'd do everything for her as well and take good care of her as she recovers

She'd try to be a bit more independent, though, just because that's how she is

She secretly loves when you surprise her with just what she wanted, but was too shy / stubborn to ask for

You come back into the bedroom with a pint of ice cream and two spoons in hand, clad in one of her oversized shirts.

"I got your favorite," you smile, saddling up next to her on the bed. She sits up with a shy grin, feeling beyond lucky to have someone like you.

"Thank you baby," she says, taking a scoop of the sweet treat as you stick it out to her. She sighs as the flavor coats her tongue, reminding her of all the reasons it's her favorite.

"You know," she starts after a minute, grabbing your attention mid-bite. "You taste even better than this."

She smirks as you nearly choke on the ice cream, coughing a bit as it trails an icy path down your throat.

"Yah, jagi! Are you trying to kill me?"

She doesn't want to feel like a nuisance

You reassure her that she isn't at all, and eventually she listens to you

Lets you help her more and cater to her needs

Repays you in the form of cuddles and millions of sweet kisses

As soon as she can safely take care of herself, she's back to normal (aka, being a crackhead)

If you adopt or have a donor, oh boy

That child is spoiled the moment you lay eyes on it

Raising her as your own

You agree to tell her about her past when she's older, if she wants that

Constant reassurance of your love for her

Telling her how proud you are of her

---

She'd be teaching your kid dance moves before she could even walk

"Lis, baby, she literally just bent her knee."

"I don't know what you're talking about. She was definitely practicing the move I taught her last night."

Almost always making a mess when she feeds her (though that's not entirely Lisa's fault... babies are messy)

Seriously, both of them completely covered in baby food and milk when you walk in

Lisa asking if she can buy a hazmat suit for when it's her time on diaper duty

Pouting when you say no

She decides to wear goggles, gloves, and a face mask instead

Singing softly to your daughter as she rocks her to sleep

Sometimes falling asleep in your rocking chair with your baby in her arms

And you find them and just 🥺

WHEN YOUR DAUGHTER IS A TODDLER & UP:

Visiting Lisa's family and your own when you can

Very wholesome memories being made with them

Food fights

She is 110% down to act silly and do anything your kid wants

You unlock the front door of your shared home, tiredly rubbing your neck after a long day of work. The sound of one of your daughter's favorite movies playing on the living room TV brings a smile to your face, and you quickly set your things on the kitchen table before joining them.

Upon stepping foot into the room, you comically narrow your eyes.

"What are you wearing?" You ask both of them as an amused smile grows on your lips.

Lisa turns to you now, appearing to have been so invested in the movie that she hadn't even heard you come home. You start to wonder if maybe she was the one who wanted to watch the movie all along.

A tin foil hat rests atop her head, matching the adorable, mini-sized version that your daughter is modeling. Lisa's grin widens cutely as she looks you up and down, happy to finally have you back home.

"Here mama, we made one for you, too!" Your daughter says excitedly, giggling as she hops up and runs towards you, cap in hand. You crouch down so she can put it on you, feeling your heart melt at the happy look in her eyes; she's proud of herself, and so are you.

"Thank you baby, it fits just right." You praise, lifting her into your arms as Lisa stands up and approaches you.

"We missed you, lovey." She presses her lips to yours, humming against them when you bring a hand to her hip to pull her even closer. You pull away before you can get too invested and scar your child for life, opting instead to cuddle into the cozy embrace that Lisa offers to the two of you.

The warm material of her sweater brushes against your skin as she brings her arms around both of you, protecting you from the slightly chilly air of the room.

"You know, I still have no idea what the hat's for..." you smirk, feeling your daughter raise her head from where it previously came to rest against your shoulder. She scoffs, sounding offended that you don't know the answer.

"It's to protect us from aliens. Duh," she rolls her eyes, making you and Lisa chuckle. Clearly Jennie has been giving her some sass lessons lately.

"My most sincere apologizes, princess," you bow your head in mock shame, doing your best to conceal your smile.

"Let's go sit back down. I wanna hold my girls," Lisa declares softly, kissing your temple as you go to agree.

The three of you make your way back to the couch, snuggling up close as Lisa presses play.

Very affectionate

Constantly squishing your cheeks and gushing about how cute you are (she does the same thing to your daughter too)

Spoils her (and you) rotten

Matching onesies

Matching outfits, totally coordinated (usually Celine or some other designer brand)

Pillow / blanket forts

"Queen Y/N, requesting entrance." You announce with a smile, hands full of snacks for the three of you as you sit back on your knees in waiting.

From inside, you hear Lisa say, "Your Highness, there's a guest at the door. Would you like to see her?"

Your daughter's faux royal voice almost makes you crack up. "Oh, alright. Open up." She commands, sounding British.

Lisa parts the front two blankets, doing her best to conceal her grin as she locks eyes with you.

"SNACKS!" Your daughter shrieks, completely breaking character.

"No no no! Wait--" She eagerly rushes over to you, knocking you over in the heat of the moment. Your mom skills kick in and allow you to angle the bowls correctly and keep most of the food in, though a few stray pieces of popcorn fall out and land in your hair.

"Oops... sorry mommy," your daughter says, snickering softly.

Lisa leans over you, peering down at where you now lay on your back. She smirks as she picks some of the popcorn out of your hair.

If you're preparing a meal for the three of you, they'd turn on some music and come hang in the kitchen with you

Dance battles everywhere

Lisa doesn't always let your daughter win, either, and it makes your little girl all the more competitive

Taking your daughter to street markets to introduce her to new foods and develop her palate

Betting on what foods she'll like more

Lisa getting sulky when she loses, and never shutting up about it when she wins

PICTURES PICTURES PICTURES

Lisa's always taking pictures of you all to add to your family photo book

More like photo books

Seriously so many pictures. She just can't get enough of how cute her little unit is

Taking trips to local cat cafés to let the gang play

Lisa convincing you to let her get another cat

"Pleaaaase?" She draws the word out, wrapping her arms around your waist. You glance over to where your daughter is surrounded by a sea of fluff balls, almost unable to be seen. She's laughing her head off, filling the room with her cute giggles as the kitties brush against her.

"Just one more. Last one." Lisa says, gathering your attention again.

"You said that last time," you quip.

"I mean it this time."

"I feel like that's a lie..."

"If you let me get this cat, there'll be a reward for you later." She husks the last part out, letting her fingers trail to the back of your neck to rest there. She leans forward to press a kiss to your cheek, then your jawline, smiling against your skin when she feels your heart beat a little faster.

"Fine, Lisa. But this is the last one," you point a finger at her, pushing her back slightly.

"Thank you, my love. You won't regret it." She smirks, head held high as she slaps your butt and goes to the crate to pick her cat of choice.

Roadtrips

Sightseeing and exploring

Teaching your daughter how to take good pictures, too

"My little prodigy" - Lisa (🥺🥲)

You and your daughter go to Lisa's performances anytime you're able

Cheering the girls on, fully decked out in BP merch

"BLACKPINK IS THE REVOLUTION!" Your daughter screams, bonking her light stick against her head wildly. From the vantage point of your front row seat, you lock eyes with Lisa before glancing down at the little human with an amused smile. Lisa laughs when she notices her, leaving only the backing track to play for a second. She giggles again and points to you before picking back up with the song, a wide smile on her lips.

The other members look down and laugh, too, clapping for her.

Your baby has too much energy for her own good -- something she definitely got from your wife.

Visiting the girls often

They always love to see both of you

Jennie makes food for her and spoils her with lazy days, Jisoo teaches her how to play video games and be more of a crackhead, and Rosé teaches her to paint and sing (and also speak with an Australian accent)

"Nœř"

They all have a secret handshake with her, different for each member

Which you think is absolutely adorable

They always take such good care of her

Always showing up for her school recitals and performances

When you pack your daughter's lunch, Lisa will usually sneak extra sweets into her bag, thinking you don't notice. You do, but you'd never tell her that. Seeing her think she's actually being sneaky is cute

Your Relationship With Lisa

Playful banter

She still makes time for you

Likes to be connected in some way as often as possible. Holding hands or pinkies, back hugs, kisses, gentle caresses, cuddling, etc. -- anything she can do to constantly remind you of her love.

You both always look forward to date nights

You drop your daughter off so the girls can watch her, or you call a sitter

Lisa takes you wherever you wanna go

Some past places: the park (to stargaze), the roller rink, fancy restaurants, art museums / galleries, couples dance classes (when you want to practice a new style and have an excuse to dance the night away together), or even just the couch

Sometimes both of you are too exhausted to go out, so you opt to stay in instead

Other times she wants to get all fancied up and see how gorgeous you look in your outfit of choice

She loves to show you off

"Damn, baby. How do you get hotter every time I see you?"

You look over at her with an incredulous expression, still clad in your oversized shirt with you hair pulled back.

"I haven't even gotten ready yet..."

"Still sexy," she coos, coming up behind you to give you a hug. You settle back into her arms, sighing softly when she trails soft kisses along your shoulder, towards your neck.

"I have to shower," you inform her, releasing the words gently. Part of you knows you'll be late for your reservation if you let her continue, but you can't find it in yourself to care. You've been aching for her touch lately, both of you caught up with the stressors of life. But she's here now, letting her hands roam to the places she knows they shouldn't be.

"Lis..."

"You know," she pecks the mark she just finished making on your neck, feeling satisfied as it darkens before her eyes, "I'm in need of a shower, too." Her fingertips flirt with the waistband of your panties, dipping underneath the material to caress your skin.

"Didn't you get in a couple hours ago?" You ask, furrowing your brows in genuine curiosity.

She laughs at that, letting her head fall against your shoulder as she stills her movements.

"Y/N, can't you just go along with it? Jeez, let me flirt with you."

Both of you chuckle together now, giggles mixing together as they fill the air of the room.

"Alright, alright. Go ahead."

"You look-- No, you know what? Let's just get in. I'll show you instead."

One of the best showers of your life ;)

You somehow managed to make it to your reservation on time

Lisa had to help you walk, though

Cause, ya know

Wöbbĺý łəğ§

Flirted like crazy at dinner

But was also very romantic

As a plane blinks by in the distance, merely a speck on its journey across the dusky sky, Lisa ponders on what her life would've been like, had she not met you. That lonely looking plane symbolizes what she'd probably be doing right now: flying somewhere for tour or brand deals. Every flash of its lights is like a call out to the universe, searching for something it doesn't yet have. It reminds her of how she felt before she met you -- like something was missing.

"I love you, Y/N/N, so much," she says out of the blue, looking over to you. "I'm lucky to call you mine." She says sincerely, gazing into your eyes with a big smile. You turn her into a lovesick, giddy teenager just by being yourself. One look from you is capable of sending her falling all over again.

Her fingers intertwine with your own, hands resting on the table.

"I'm so proud of us. There's no one I'd rather grow old with." You bring her wrist to your lips, kissing it tenderly. Her heart melts at the action, and she cups your cheek in her palm.

She takes you to the park after dinner, right back to the place you met

It leads to a big sentimental talk about when you fell for one another and realized you were in love

You take a bite of the froyo you got as desert on the way here, looking over to her as she begins explaining.

"I knew I did from that first moment we met. It was… not love at first sight exactly, but- familiarity. Like: oh, hello, it’s you. It’s going to be you."

She looks so sweet after she says it that you almost melt right then and there. You put the container down on the bench beside you before turning back to her. Curiosity shines in her doe eyes as she waits on your answer.

"Oddly enough, it was the same for me," you start, feeling your cheeks tug up into a smile as the memories come flooding back. "As soon as I made you laugh that first time -- when I saw your face light up after I told that stupid joke -- I knew it was you. I never knew what I was missing until I met you."

She cups your cheek, rubbing the pad of her thumb across it as tears begin to well up in her eyes. Years ago, when both of you happened to be in this very spot at the same time, you had no idea what life had in store for you. She had no idea that when she accidently bumped into a complete stranger, that that person would become her world.

She wouldn't feel complete without you, and neither would you without her. The life you've created has taken sacrifices and courage, but you know you'll always have one another no matter what. She makes the hard days bearable, and the good days unforgettable. She's your reason, just as you're hers.

"I love you--"

Both of you say the phrase at the same time, laughing when you realize it. It's a sweet moment, plucked straight out of a romcom.

She leans forward after a few seconds to kiss your lips, reclaiming them for her own.

Holding hands as you walk through the city

Not wanting the night to end

You stop in a couple other thrift shops and take some pictures together before deciding to go home

You catch up on some movies / Netflix / trashy TV that you've been wanting to watch together, finally having enough time to do so

She holds you close, snuggling up against you and not letting you go

Fights

Of course, they're inevitable

Never fun

You both communicate well, though, so they don't happen too often

But when they do, they usually start over little things, your annoyance only heightened by the stress you're constantly under

It's tough on Lisa, being an idol on top of everything else, and it's tough on you to have to raise your daughter alone sometimes

You don't fight in front of her (your child), and you don't say things to attack each other's character. Sometimes you just get loud because you're frustrated and trying to get the other to understand things from your point of view

You usually take time to cool down and then come back together later, once you've had time to think and reflect

After putting your daughter to bed, Lisa comes to your shared bedroom.

"Y/N/N, baby, I'm sorry. Please open up, I need to see you." She says quietly, resting her forehead against the door. She's beyond disappointed in herself, baffled by the fact she could treat you in such a way.

You look over to it, weighing your options as you toy with your wedding ring out of habit. This was a particularly nasty fight, and you hated every second of it; the anger in her eyes broke your heart.

She hears shuffling from inside, and she stands up straight. When you open the door and lean against it, eyes red and cheeks puffy from crying, her heart sinks. It's not surprising that her words hurt you so much, but knowing that she caused you pain in any way is almost too much to bear.

She purses her lips as she gathers her thoughts, and you momentarily look down to the floor, scuffing your foot to busy yourself.

"I never should've said any of that to you. Work has just been stressing me out lately with the comeback and all, and I took it out on you. I was wrong," she says, fresh tears spilling out of her eyes. She quickly wipes them away, not wanting the moment to be about her. She knows if she breaks down in front of you right now, you'll be forgiving her in an instant and wrapping her in the embrace that she's been in dire need of all evening.

That's exactly why she doesn't give in; now isn't the time to be selfish. She sniffles, willing the tears away as she finds the words she wants to say to you. She has to make things right.

"You're everything I've ever wanted, and I treated you like that? I'm ashamed of myself, Y/N. I'm not asking you to forget about this; I just want you to know how sorry I am."

You let a shaky breath out as you look into her eyes, deciding on what to do. You can tell she's being genuine; her fear of losing you is real, and she's doing everything she can to prove how guilty she feels.

You drop your hand from the knob and step through the threshold of the door, wrapping your arms around her neck. The second you do, her tears finally begin spilling out again. Your hair tickles her nose as she nuzzles her face into the crook of your neck, securing her arms around your waist like her life depends on it. You cry together, letting out all of your stress and frustrations while muttering out strained apologies and I love yous.

"I forgive you, Lisa." She sobs a bit harder at that, and you feel her lip tremble. You stay like that until you both calm down, your sniffles fading to hitched breaths every now and then.

"Come on, let's go take a bath."

She decides to take over, wanting to make it up to you. She has you sit down and relax while she lights some candles and fills the tub with your favorite scents and oils

She comes back out into the bedroom to get you as the tub fills up

She carries you back to the bathroom, cradling you lovingly in her arms

You get in and cuddle, massaging the pain and tension away from each others shoulders

Very soft way to end such a stressful day

She reassures you that she'll be better for you and that she never wants to lose you or jeopardize what you have

You believe her, and to this day she's never been like that again

You still argue from time to time, but you both listen more and stop things before they can escalate

When All Is Said & Done

At the end of the day, Lisa always makes sure you know how happy you make her and how much she loves her life with the both of you

Even though things get hard sometimes, you wouldn't want to do it with anyone else

One day, when your daughter is away at school, Lisa and you are snuggled up on the couch, watching some TV

"Y/N/N?"

"Yes, my love?"

"Let's make another baby."

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feverinfeveroutfic · 3 years ago

Text

chapter twenty-eight: “chuck, there’s a worm in your soup”

Sam hung up the phone and ran her fingers through her dark hair. She had waited until five days following the announcement in order to tell her parents about the accident as she had no other means to do so. She knew that they would not react to it well, even if she was thousands of miles away. Add to this, she never liked the idea of one of her parents being in an exorbitant amount of pain.

The tears in Ruben's voice and his telling Esmé what had happened: she bawled off in the background. She had invited them to the funeral over in the Bay Area, but he told her that they had too much to do with themselves.

“It's not really a funeral, though,” she clarified, “we're just scattering his ashes at Maxwell Ranch near Vacaville. But—I'll be out there this weekend, though.”

“Okay,” he had told her with a shuddered sigh, “be safe—I'm so sorry, sweetie.”

She poured herself a cup of coffee and, before she could pour in the cream, a knock on the door caught her attention. She padded into the living room, past the vase of yellow tulips, which still stood strong and high even well after Cliff had picked them out for her.

Aurora stood there before her with a glass square covered with a sheet of tin foil and a deep violet velvety sweater about her body.

“Hey, Aurora,” she greeted her, and she eyed the little square dish cradled in her hands. “Thank you. What's this?”

“Blondies courtesy of Emile,” she said in a low voice. “And I told him I'm going to have to spend a lot more time with you, though.”

“Thank you,” Sam repeated as Aurora handed her the blondies which then allowed her to put her arms around her best friend.

“I'm so sorry,” she whispered into her ear. Sam sighed through her nose and then she stepped back for a better look at the blondies: she took off the foil and she revealed the square of that soft yellow top, complete with bits of white chocolate mixed in.

“So when do we go back out to San Francisco?” she asked Aurora, who strode into the apartment.

“Friday, in two days—we leave the day of, too, real early. Jon gave me the week off, though. It's getting kind of stressful, you know?”

“Oh, yeah. I couldn't hardly focus in class this week so far. I'm glad we're leaving on Friday, too—I don't know how much more I can take it. I just want to get it over with.”

“Well, as you know, it's not a technical funeral,” she pointed out.

“Right, they brought him home over the weekend and then they had him cremated,” Sam recalled as she strode into the kitchen and she put the blondies in the fridge. “Ray and Jan said they want him scattered over Maxwell Ranch near Vacaville. I actually had to look that up because I didn't know where that was.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.” Sam surfaced from the kitchen to find Aurora had stuffed her hands into her sweater pockets. “By the way, what're Metallica gonna do now?”

“Look for a new bassist,” she replied with a shrug. “Even though they're on a different label now, I'm going to oversee it with them. Speaking of which—did you get a copy of their new album?”

“I haven't, no.”

“We'll have to do that when we go out there,” Aurora vowed, and Sam sighed through her nose again and she lowered her gaze to the floor. Aurora padded over to her with her arms wide open and she held her close: she lay her head against Sam's chest.

“I don't like seeing friends in pain,” she said in a muffled voice. “Especially if it's my best friend.” She lifted her head for a better look at her. “My parents endured a lot of it when they were back in Korea.”

“I can imagine,” Sam confessed with a break in her voice. Her eyes burned with tears again.

“They were almost separated at the demilitarized zone—the mines were activated and my father almost lost his legs to an explosion. Had my mother not held his hand and ran away from there with him, he would've been a goner and I wouldn't be here right now.”

Sam brushed away a tear as it burgeoned from her right eye.

“My father had a death wish then, too. He believed there was no way they could run away from Korea, especially the North. But they managed to escape. My mother and the grip of her hand saved him, from the line of fire and from himself.”

“If we were there in Sweden, Cliff would still be here,” Sam recalled those words from that night.

“I have no doubt about it.” Aurora lay the side of her head against her chest again and Sam closed her eyes to keep the tears at bay. She knew it was going to be a difficult weekend, especially when she still couldn't hardly focus in class the next day. She expected Cliff to be there on the sidewalk upon her emergence from the school building, but she took the subway alone, and with that hat rested upon the crown of her head. Every so often, she caught a whiff of the way his hair used to smell once she removed the hat. If only there was a way in which to preserve it for eternity.

She and Aurora left for the airport at four o'clock in the morning: any homework that she had would have to wait a few days because there were more pressing matters to tend to. She thought of Cliff during the whole flight: it didn't help matters that they were seated at the front of coach class as well, two rows behind first class. She sat there for the first hour of the flight with her arms folded across her chest, such that when Aurora woke up from her nap, she peered over at her with her tired eyes in a daze.

“Is everything alright?” she asked her.

“Just thinking,” Sam replied in a soft voice. “When we visited my parents, we sat near first class.”

“Oh, damn,” Aurora muttered and she cleared her throat.

“Yeah. We can't move, though.” She sighed through her nose yet again, and they landed San Francisco before the sun even rose there, right through that thick bank of fog from the Bay itself. They were greeted by Lars, who had showed up to the airport in a long black overcoat and a pair of black leather boots.

“I like this,” Aurora told him with a gesture all about his body. “I like this a lot.”

“Something a little a propos, dare I say,” he told her as he guided them out to his car.

“Thank you for picking us up, by the way,” she continued.

“There was no way I was going to let the two of you stay in a dingy hotel,” he said, but Sam tuned out their words. She gazed out the window to the thick dark fog as it blacked out the inlets: off in the distance, she noticed the dim lights of the Golden Gate Bridge. It almost didn't seem right, that Cliff had died in a place so far away and yet he was so staunch on staying in the Bay Area. He even put a bet on something that felt as far away as Sweden itself in order to be with her, which meant if it didn't happen, there was no way it would last.

And yet she couldn't stay angry at Cliff for that.

This was his home. This was where he needed to be, away from the darkness of Scandinavia and on his own soil. If it was to be long distance until she finished school, then she could make it happen. But that was the belief, and it had vanished into the blackness of the Bay fog as it greeted them outside in the dim parking lot.

Lars drove them to his small house up in Sausalito, and Sam wondered when Marla and Zelda would be there with Anthrax given she didn't see either of them on the plane. She even brought this up to him.

“They got here late last night,” he told her as he served her and Aurora fresh cups of coffee. “Well, Charlie and Marla did, anyways. He called me last night and said they had checked into their hotel at around eleven o'clock last night. No idea about the others, though.”

“Thank you, by the way,” she said to him as she took a sip of the coffee. Like a warm gentle hug from the inside. She thought about what he had told her in that room. Even though she couldn't hardly focus on class, she did however feel an itch to draw something in her journal, something outside of class. That time around, it was a mistake for her to not take her journal or any of her paper along with her. She thought about the ink drawings she had made the last October and she made a mental note to do it again at some point.

But by the time the ceremony came about, she knew there was no way she could focus on anything that needed to be drawn up on paper.

The fog had cleared out to pure blue sky but it straddled the Golden Gate Bridge as well as the inlet there before Maxwell Ranch. A small stretch of land fitted by a handful of lush green trees and a small building that made Sam think of a church given there was a small painting of Jesus next to the front door when they walked inside. Everyone had donned themselves in solid black: she peered across the room to find Legacy had showed up themselves, as did Exodus given she recognized Zetro's head of hair next to Chuck's long black smooth curls. Alex towered next Eric, Greg, and Louie, complete with a yarmulke on his head: that little gray sliver poked out over his forehead.

Meanwhile, five more unfamiliar men congregated at the far end of the room and they looked as though they had just come from a nearby high school.

“Nice to see Death Angel here,” Lars declared right next to her as he took off his sunglasses. “Kind of expected them to be, but it's always nice to see them, though. Armored Saint, too. And Metal Church. And Exodus and Legacy—everyone's here! Well, not everyone, I don't see Dave or Slayer.”

“Brought the whole Bay Area scene here with us,” Zelda's voice crackled from their left: she emerged from the corridor in a fitted black dress with white polka dots and a black silk bolero over her shoulders. Her short bob of black hair had been combed and styled back with a bit of gel.

Sam then felt a tap on her shoulder and she turned around only to be met with another head of black curls piled atop a round head and a slender body wrapped in black leather. His face had grown fuller with the extensive touring but she knew it was him by the soft brown tone to his skin alone.

“Hi, Joey,” she greeted him and he put his arms around her and he held her close to his slender little body.

“Remember if you need anything—absolutely anything at all—you can call me,” he told her, and he ran his fingers through his thick inky black curls. “I'll always be there, rain or shine, day or night, on tour or not. Call me regardless of the barrier.”

“Yeah, me and Marla, too,” Charlie joined in behind them, and he greeted her with an embrace as well, so did Frank, Dan, Scott, and of course Marla.

James and Kirk emerged from the corridor on the left, in black shirts and matching pants: the latter had a small black lace band around his upper arm. He gestured for Lars to join them there at the corner of the room. Sam, Aurora, and Zelda gathered on the wall adjacent to the door; Joey and Dan stood right behind them. The latter set a hand on Sam's shoulder to comfort her and she showed him a warm smile in return.

“Thank you, Danny,” she told him.

“We've got each other, you know,” he said with a wink. She returned her attention to that corner of the room, and she noticed a little gray urn in between James and Kirk. The room fell silent, even with Ray, Jan, and Connie not even being there. She wondered about them if they were doing alright with it all.

Joey rested his chin on her shoulder, and she caught a small whiff of his soft soapy cologne on the side of his neck. Oh, the smells. Cliff still riddled in her memory but she knew Joey would never be too far away from that point onward.

“Can't believe we're here right now,” Kirk started with a little break in his voice and his hands clasped together before his toned stomach. “I mean, if anything, we should still be over in Europe right now. But—here we are. Back home.”

“That bus sucked, though,” Lars added. “The beds were hard as a rock and they were uncomfortable. It was why Cliff and Kirk drew cards in the first place.”

“They were small, too,” James continued, “they were even small for you. And—you know, if it's small for Lars—you know it sucks.”

“As everyone might notice, Cliff's family couldn't make it,” Kirk said, “even being his biggest fans and everything. They just—they just couldn't do it. I mean, it's hard on the three of us, but they pretty much broke down, though. So—we have to act as his family.” He flashed Sam a small but sad smile and she could feel her eyes burning with tears yet again. She gazed out the window with Joey's chin still rested upon her shoulder. She tuned out their eulogies as she thought about Cliff's family. She pictured the three of them congregated in their living room together. They didn't have much, but they had each other.

She knew he and his older brother had been reunited somewhere beyond the window, somewhere beyond those low pale yellow hills, somewhere beyond the vast blue.

Somewhere beyond the veil.

She knew she had to pay attention because she was the grieving girlfriend but she couldn't. All she could think about were his parents and his sister.

“He was like 'we should just kill 'em all, man,'” Kirk pressed on and he brushed away a tear from his eye. “And the bunch of us were like, hey, let's make that our album name!”

She had to get her hands on that album that Aurora had told her about. If she had to go to a nearby record shop for a copy, then she could do it for herself.

“Sam?”

Lars' high pitched voice caught her offguard. She glanced over at his holding the urn in both hands.

“Would you like the final word before we release him to the earth?” he asked her, and she nodded her head. Frank set a hand on her shoulder and she could tell that he held back the tears, even as she ambled up to the corner of the room. She held the pale cold urn in her hands, about the size of a coffee mug.

He was in there. She had to set him free. She had to let him go.

Her bottom lip trembled as she brought the stone closer to her face. She closed her eyes.

“I love you,” she whispered into the crack between the urn itself and the lid. Kirk set a hand on her upper back and leaned in closer to her. She then handed James the urn to do the duty.

He led them outside to the cool crisp October afternoon, around the building to a stretch of flat field lined with tall scraggly dark trees. Two evergreens stood near the back door, and she wondered if that was the reception area. She spotted two large black speakers near there and she wondered what was about to happen once James let the ashes fly.

“Alright, Lars,” he called out to his left. They all congregated there under the cold sun and a gentle breeze from the ocean made them all huddle together like a bunch of penguins. Lars knelt down before one of the speakers and he pushed a button. Against the wind, Sam could hear music.

The hard, rising riffs emerged from the speakers from complete silence: it made her think of the depths of space, or the depths of the ocean behind her.

“This was his favorite,” Kirk told her in a low voice, “from our new album. It's called 'Orion'.” She thought of the little indent on Cliff's hip, which made her think of a true belt. And with that, Joey put his arm around her again. Sam watched James hold up the urn, and he turned away from the winds. When the music picked up, he unscrewed the lid and he tilted the urn on its side. Some of Cliff's ashes billowed out in a cloud against the wind and towards the field.

He became part of the earth yet again. Orion's belt.

Sam bowed her head but she couldn't bring herself to cry. Joey rubbed his hand upon her shoulder.

It was a long song, one that included a small section where Cliff's bass stood alone, and another plume of ashes billowed out in light wisps. It made her think of fire flies, or fairy dust, especially when Chuck muttered, “ashes to ashes, dust to dust—until we meet again, Cliff” right behind her.

It faded out as James gave the urn one last shake and the rest of the ashes scattered about the earth before him with the wind. He lowered the urn and screwed the lid back on, and bowed his head. Lars ambled over to him as he brought a hand to his face.

Some soft acoustic guitar played out right then.

“'Fight Fire with Fire'!” Zelda declared from Sam and Aurora's right. “I love this song!”

“This was Cliff's last song,” Kirk told her. “The very last song he played.” She brought a hand to her chest and her face softened. That was the softest Sam ever saw Zelda, given she was always in such a punk rock mood and a mood for trouble.

“Alright, who wants lunch?” Lars called out as he let go of James.

They all doubled back inside, through that back door into a vast rec room that smelled as though it was just cleaned. Sam and Aurora took their seats at a table on the far side of the room, and Lars joined the two of them with a pair of plates absolutely full with potatoes au gratin, baked ham, and steamed vegetables.

“There's a big quiche Lorraine and some pho over there, if you'd like, Aurora,” he said as he took his seat next to Sam and he handed her the plate in his right hand. “Both courtesy of our friends in Death Angel.”

“Oh, thank you!” said Sam. With a little nod, Aurora climbed to her feet right then, and the two of them were left alone. Lars handed Sam a fork.

“So what happens now?” he asked her with a grave look on his round face.

“Don't know,” she confessed as she dug into the potatoes. “I go back to New York and continue being the artist.”

“You know how Joey and Charlie both said to call them if you needed anything?” His green eyes wandered over to the neighboring table, and she spotted Charlie, Frank, and Scott clustered together with their backs to them. Scott burst out laughing about something: Sam spotted a comic book plunked in front of Charlie. Of course!

“Yeah,” she replied.

“Well, I extend that to myself,” Lars told her, “especially if it has to do with art.”

“That's right, you're the art guy.”

“I can perhaps help you out if you wish,” he quipped with a raise of an eyebrow, and he picked up a potato medallion.

“Aw, that's so sweet!” And then she had an idea. “Would you like something from me?”

“Would I like something from you—yes, please!”

“It can be totally on me, too.”

“Oh, no, I don't want to do that to you, Sam,” he said as he brought a forkful of broccoli up to his little lips.

“No, I insist!” she said with her mouth full. She swallowed before she spoke again. “What would you like? What medium would you like?”

“What do you feel most comfortable with?”

“Ink.”

“Ink! Like—black ink?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay.” He paused. “I don't believe I have a photograph of my parents with me, but I do have one at home, though. You might find it interesting when we get back there...” His voice trailed off and the two of them ate in silence, given Aurora had taken a bowl of soup for herself and found herself distracted by the men of Exodus as well as Zelda on the other side of the room. Sam lifted her head at one point and she watched Zelda pick something up from the floor. She turned to her right, away from them, and she raised it over her head, clenched inside of her fist.

Charlie muttered something about the comic book store there in San Francisco being expensive, but he was interrupted by Zelda's strident shout.

“Hey, Louie! Catch!”

Louie's smooth head of hair emerged on the side of the room, about ten feet from Sam and Lars' table, and he extended his hands out before him. Zelda threw the thing at him, a glimmer of silver across the room. The guys from Legacy cheered out when he caught it.

“What even was that?” Lars asked Sam.

“Looked like a spoon.”

“A spoon or a knife. What better place to play 'catch the knife'!” And Sam burst out laughing at that.

She and Lars both helped themselves to seconds, as well as plates full of desserts, a slice of cake, a blondie, and a handful of cookies. She was amazed by how much she had eaten right there, but then again, she had put on a bit of weight over the course of that year and she needed to move on from Cliff. It was time to tend to herself, and to nourish herself, even if it meant eating a great deal.

“Chuck, there's a worm in your soup,” she overheard Zelda say, and it made Scott almost fall out of his chair from laughing so hard. Frank caught him and Louie clapped his hands with laughter; she turned to Lars, who picked at his teeth.

“Have you seen where Joey went?” she asked him.

“I was just gonna ask you that,” he admitted. He turned his attention to the other side of the room. James and Kirk sat with Aurora and Marla and they had their backs towards them. There was something else about that otherwise joyful room. Something else missing, and it didn't help matters that he knitted his eyebrows at it, either.

“I'm going to sit with Alex for a second,” Lars told her.

“Where is he?”

“Right over there.” She followed his point to the door on the other side of the room, and Alex had taken his seat outside on the step. All she could see was that thick blanket of jet black curls at the back of his head: some of them sprawled down his shoulders and his upper back. He had moved the yarmulke more on top of his head but it still stood strong and high like a crown.

“Just going to check on him, you know?” She nodded her head and Lars stood to his feet with his free hand on his stomach. He strode across the floor and slipped his plate into the trash can next to the wall. He then stood next to Alex, who then lifted his head and gazed up at him. Lars said something, but Chuck and Zelda bickering about something drowned him out. Alex nodded his head and Lars took a seat next to him on the step.

Sam peered behind her to another door. Perhaps it was from merely all the food she had eaten, but that room felt so much warmer than when they first arrived there. She slid out of the chair with her empty plate in her left hand. She adjusted the band of her dress slacks and she walked out through the other door, to the clear and crisp afternoon that awaited her. The sun hung high in the school still, despite it being fall. The air was so fresh and the sky was so blue. For a split second, she missed California right there, but she knew her life was back in New York City. She stuck the plate in another trash can next to the door and, careful not to upset her stomach, she walked at a slow pace around the side of the building.

She caught the sound of Lars' laughter on the other side, near those evergreen trees. Alex's big striking voice followed. She rounded the corner and there the two of them were on the step, with the sunshine on their heads.

“Not really how I wanted to celebrate my eighteenth birthday,” Alex was confessing, and he gave Lars a shrug of his slender shoulders. Those loose tendrils near the base of his head brushed against his shirt. He turned his head into her direction and the cold sun shone upon the side of his face: it accentuated his aquiline nose and the round soft shape of his face. Sam thought about one of the dreams she had had about the mysterious man with the streak in his hair, the one with the plane crash and the fire. Maybe it was the way in which his face was shaped, how he looked a little rounder from the last time she saw him over Christmas, but she couldn't help but think of that man.

Those deep eyes wandered into her direction. Deep and cold. Lars followed his gaze in her direction and he grinned at her.

“Samantha!” he called to her with his arm extended out for her, and Alex raised his eyebrows.

“Samantha?”

“Yeah. Cliff's girlfriend.”

Alex hesitated, and then his face lit up.

“Oh, Samantha!” He wagged his finger at that. “I remember now. I made that thing for you by Cliff's request!”

She fetched up a sigh and she ambled closer to them with her arms behind her back; she lingered right next to Lars. He adjusted the yarmulke on the crown of his head. She swore she had seen him a few times in New York City, off in the background, and he seemed like such a shadow to her all the while. But here he sat before her, wrapped in that little black velvet jacket, and with that little yarmulke upon his head as well. He looked as though he needed to attend a bar mitzvah rather than a funeral.

“How do you like that, by the way?” he asked her, and she never realized how soft spoken he was until he spoke to her up close and personal like that.

“I love it to death,” she told him as the tears welled up again. “I put it in a safe place so the graphite doesn't fade away.”

“That's good.” And she brushed a tear away from her eye. Lars caressed her hand and Alex showed her a small smile but it also looked like he wasn't smiling at all. He took the yarmulke off of his head and he shook it about: the little sliver of gray over his forehead shone in the hazy sunlight so it actually resembled to a little pearl. She was so close to that little sliver, such that she couldn't stop looking at it. Lars turned his head in his direction.

“So you were talking to Greg a little bit ago?” he asked Alex. “You guys' Greg?”

“Oh, yeah—I was talking to him and he told me he might audition for Cliff's position.”

“Hope he can get it,” Sam blurted out. “I think he'd kick ass with that position.”

“Yeah, but also understand we'd need a new bassist if he got the part, though,” Alex pointed out with a blank expression on his face.

“He can pull double duties, though,” Lars quipped. “Ronnie James Dio did it. I can envision Greg putting his horns down and going crazy with it.”

“You're just saying that 'cause I do that,” Alex scoffed.

“You're quite the worker bee, Alex,” Lars assured him, and he shrugged in response to that. Sam frowned at his body language. “You are, though!”

“I got out of school by the skin of my teeth, though,” he declared.

“Hey, at least you graduated. I practically dropped out to become a tennis player.”

“Yeah, and I had to take a break for a little bit afterwards,” Sam joined in. Alex stared up at her: those deep eyes swallowed her whole. He seemed so much colder than she had imagined, and so much more distant in comparison to when Cliff got that rice paper from him over Christmas. She figured it was because Cliff himself was gone.

“I still wanna be the best, though,” he told them in a low voice. “I knew from the very second I picked up a guitar when I was eight years old that it was for me. My brother told me to run with it once I got out of school.”

“Playing since you were eight?” Sam was stunned by that.

“Yeah, but my parents were rather reticent towards it, though. My parents are older than that of my friends so—they don't really understand it.”

He never smiled once, such that it made her squirm in that spot next to Lars. She knew it wasn't from the loss; as cool as a cucumber and those deep eyes seemed to stare right into her foggy mind.

“Complete diametric opposite of Cliff's parents,” Lars remarked, and the sound of Cliff's name made the tears well up again.

“Hey, little man!” James called from inside the reception hall, and Alex scoffed at the sound of that. But he turned around and clutched onto the yarmulke as if it was about to get away from him. Sam leaned forward for a look at Kirk and the slice of birthday cake cradled in his hands. Zetro stood next to him with a lighter in hand.

“Oh,” he breathed out with a raise of his eyebrows.

“I see a candle,” Lars told him; Zetro left a tiny flicker of a flame on the little blue candle on top of the layer of white frosting.

“I do, too—happy birthday,” Sam said with a sniffle.

“Thank you.” Alex showed her another small smile. Those deep eyes resembled to the sliver of ocean near there. He was cold, much colder than what she remembered from that show over Christmas break. Maybe it was his being so young and already having a band around him that made him mature with such haste, but the whole feeling made her grimace a bit, especially when he doubled back into the building for the cake. Kirk gazed on at her and gestured to the cake, and she shook her head. He pouted and cocked his head to the side as if she upset him.

“Maybe later,” she mouthed to him as she patted her stomach, and he nodded at that.

“Me, too,” said Lars, “so unlike me, though. I’m like you, I like to eat.” And she watched them all congregate around Alex, the birthday boy, like one big family. Cliff had omitted so much from her. Maybe he really was that out of touch with the rest of them, more so than he had originally told her. And she knew from that point on out that Zelda was right. They needed to act in order to be a bigger part of the whole community.

He would have wanted her to move on. In the brief pocket of time in which they knew each other, she knew that he would have wanted her to. And if it meant she had to be more forth going like with Kirk there, then she would do it for him. She would do it for him in her words, and her art as well.

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pendragonsandbuckleys · 4 years ago

Text

When The Dust Settles

Summary: The fight at CrashCon had been a mess.

Michael had found that his genius really did increase when he was pissed off and he had managed to build the fateful bomb in just over ten hours - with little thought to his own safety, to be honest, when the fate of someone else far more important had been looming over him the entire time.

But nothing had gone as planned. Or, in a way, everything had gone as planned. That is, if the plan was to make sure that everyone he loved was still alive by the end of the evening.

Word Count: 1,821

[Also on AO3]

The fight at CrashCon had been a mess.

But nothing had gone as planned. Or, in a way, everything had gone as planned. That is, if the plan was to make sure that everyone he loved was still alive by the end of the evening.

CrashCon was in full swing by the time they arrived. Hundreds of people in tin foil hats and homemade alien costumes, so unaware of what was about to unfold.

Helena had cruelly made Michael hand the bomb over to Jesse himself. Hand over his life to the one man who was so hell-bent on destroying it.

But despite being promised, he still hadn’t seen Alex yet. Hell, since Helena had handed him the specs for the device, he’d wondered if maybe he was simply clinging to some naive hope that Alex was even still alive. That the Manes men hadn’t already wiped out the flaw in their bloodline.

He had been so tempted to up and run with the bomb when he noticed Alex in the distance. Alive and whole and if Flint hadn’t have been standing far too close to him to be natural and Alex didn’t have that heartbreakingly pained expression on his face, Michael could believe that the entire kidnapping hadn’t been real.

But no, Alex was still clearly in danger so Michael wasn’t going to risk anything.

And that’s when it all went to hell.

First Jesse had the bomb. He was keeping it safe in his possession until the opportune moment which had given Michael enough time to escape his captors clutches and find Max and Isobel to warn them of what was going on.

Then from some quick thinking and a distraction from Max, Michael had ended up with the device, then the failsafe that he had secretly installed failed, then Helena had managed to grab it, then Michael lost track of it completely for a good thirty minutes, then Flint had it, then maybe Jesse again?

Then Alex.

And it was like Flint saw red. A traitor, that’s what he’d called Alex. With no sign of regret or remorse he had completely disowned his own brother when Michael had mentioned his name the day before.

And now, Flint showed no hesitation when he opened fire on the enemy.

Michael barely had a second to register what was going on when the screaming began and he was suddenly caught in the middle of the huge stampede of terrified alien fanatics rushing to safety.

There had been gunfire and smoke and explosions from a hit power transformer and it was impossible to tell who was where and who was hurt.

But it was over quickly. Police trucks and ambulances arrived in record time and soon everything was quiet again.

The injured were tended to and fairground employees returned to their rides to take stock of the damage and through the still smokey haze Max had jogged over him.

“Flint and Jesse are down, Iz has the bomb, it’s safe.” Max told him, the words sluggishly reaching his brain through the ringing in his ears, but he didn’t care about that right now.

And like Max could read his thoughts, he placed one hand on Michael’s shoulder and gave it a reassuring squeeze. “He’s over by the stage. He’s okay.”

Michael barely let out a ‘thank you’ before rushing to the wooden platform that was supposed to play host to the biggest event of the evening.

Just the sight of Alex made Michael freeze, his chest heaving with relief.

The airman was sitting on the platform, his legs hanging over the edge with his feet just grazing the grass. He was fiddling with his hands and he just looked…lost.

From a distance it seemed like he was unhurt, physically, but Michael could only imagine what was running through his mind. He had almost just been killed by his brother, not to mention the whole being held captive by his own family for almost a week.

Michael wanted to hug him, he wanted to literally cry with joy at the fact that Alex was not only alive, but actually safe now in front of him. But he also didn’t want to overwhelm him. Being casual was key if he didn’t want to spook the man who was so clearly wrapped up inside his own thoughts right now.

But it’s like his brain was trying to process so many emotions that he wasn’t sure whether to show or not, that he blurted out the first thing that came to mind.

“So, you still think there’s some good in everyone?” He playfully nudged Alex’s shoulder with his own as he took a seat next to him.

Alex’s withdrawn expression quickly crumbled as his eyes filled with tears. Looking to the ground with a shaky inhale.

“Oh my god, no Alex, I’m sorry, that was a really dumb joke.” He frantically tried to backtrack, turning to face Alex properly as he placed a reassuring hand on the other man’s knee.

He watched as Alex bit the inside of his cheek for a moment before letting out a self-deprecating huff of laughter.

“You’re right though.” Alex whispered, “It was stupid of me. My blind optimism, my naivety. It almost got you killed.”

“Alex…”

“If I hadn’t have been so trusting, none of this would have happened. You, Max and Isobel, you wouldn’t have nearly died.”

Up close Michael could see how exhausted he looked. The moonlight accentuated his tired eyes and pale cheeks and the fine tremors running through his body were easy to miss if you weren’t looking close enough.

Michael ducked his head to try and get Alex to look at him properly, the corners of his mouth rising slightly when those tear filled eyes met his own.

“I lied, you know.” He smiled gently, “What I said in the bunker. Your ability to see the good in everyone, even after all the hurt you’ve gone through. I’ve never stopped loving that about you.”

Alex’s lips parted as if to speak but Michael didn’t want to give him a chance to write off what he was saying.

“I didn’t say it was stupid because it’s naive. It just- It scared me, hearing you say it. Just the thought of how easily people could take advantage of you and your faith in humanity. How easily you could get hurt because of it.”

“It serves me right,” Alex shrugged, turning back to look at his hands, “What my dad and Flint did to me, it’s my own fault.”

“Hey, hey, no that’s not- you know what, can we start over? I’m really fucking happy that you’re alive.”

“You are?” Alex asked, the words coming out quiet and shaky.

Michael spluttered in surprise and was unable to hide the confusion on his face even if he wanted to. “Alex, I just made a bomb that could wipe out what’s left of my entire species, in less than half a day might I add, because there was no way in hell that I was going to let you die.”

Alex looked up once more as Michael spoke and it was clear that he’d failed in his mission to hold back his tears as they feel silently down his face. He had gotten so good at hiding his pain recently, so to see it written so raw on his features was a surprise to Michael.

The cowboy was happy to admit that he was the first to shy away from those big emotions. When things got tough, he’d smash things - create a mess or create a scene. He’d say and do things to sabotage his own happiness and the happiness of the people he cared about. But right now, for the first time in a long time, there was no urge to start an argument or walk away - but the exact opposite. It was so clear that Alex needed reassurances and Michael wasn’t going to start letting him down again now.

“And I would do it again in a heartbeat if it meant keeping you safe.”

It was like those words were the magical key to opening the floodgates because a second later a breath caught in Alex’s throat before he was racked his sobs. Michael didn’t hesitate to tenderly guide Alex’s head to his chest and held him tightly as his shoulders shook and his cries were muffled by Michael’s shirt.

He could feel the checkered flannel getting wet but he couldn’t even begin to care. He squeezed his eyes shut as he rubbed one hand up and down the length of Alex’s back, content to stay there for as long as it took for Alex to let it all out.

“They really hate me that much.” Alex hiccuped, turning his face slightly so that his words could be heard but he didn't break the contact with Michael’s chest.

“Forget them, okay? They’re not important, they don’t mean anything. They’re not your family Alex, they never have been. But we are, Liz, Maria, Isobel…me. And we’re not going anywhere.”

He could feel Alex nod slightly and for now that would have to do. He’d learnt a long time ago that he couldn’t make Alex believe anything he didn’t want to, but Michael just really hoped that his words had been convincing.

He could still feel Alex crying as he repositioned his chin on top of the other man’s head. He took a deep breath as he felt his own eyes begin to well up.

“You know the whole where’s-Alex-scavenger-hunt thing was quite therapeutic actually, I even hit your dad over the head with his own crutch.”

Alex couldn’t hold back his disbelieving chuckle and Michael’s chest warmed at the sound.

“I did that once too, with my own crutch.” Alex whispered as he clung weakly to Michael’s shirt.

“Wait, what??” Michael laughed. “You never told me this!”

He felt Alex chuckle again but the man said no more.

It was quiet between them for a moment. Alex’s shaking began to slow as Michael continued to hold him.

“You shouldn’t have built that bomb…but thank you for trying to save me.”

A thank you instead of a lecture? Michael chalked it up to the exhaustion but received it gratefully nonetheless. He’d probably get an earful from Alex tomorrow once he was more rested and could form actual unemotional, coherent thoughts, but right now Michael couldn’t ask for any more.

I’ll always save you he thought to himself as he closed his eyes once more and held Alex just a little bit tighter.

#i just really need these two to hug okay #roswell new mexico #alex manes #michael guerin #malex #alex manes fic #michael guerin fic #malex fic #my fic

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themurphyzone · 4 years ago

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104 Words for 104 Days: Lemonade

It’s Candace appreciation hours! I wanted to do a Candace and Vanessa conversation because of CATU.

Jeremy looked so cute in his Slushy Dawg uniform. Well, he looked cute in any outfit, but the Slushy Dawg hat just added an extra layer of adorableness. Candace snapped a photo on her phone while Jeremy took a customer’s order, ducking behind the wall against her table before he could look up.

“Total keeper,” Candace giggled, unable to stop the high-pitched squeal that made people stop and stare like they’d never seen a teenage girl in love before. “The sunlight bounces off his hair perfectly in this one.”

She raised her phone again as Jeremy bagged several hot dogs, all wrapped neatly in tin foil. No wonder every Slushy Dawg manager in Danville and Mt. Rushmore fought over him. He was the best guy for the job with that award-winning smile.

“Hey, Candace. What’s up?”

Candace shrieked, slapping her hand against her mouth and almost losing her grip on her precious phone. She whirled around, her knee banging painfully on the table rim. Luckily for her, Jeremy was too busy to notice.

Vanessa was holding two medium-sized cups of lemonade, a purse and small wallet tucked in an awkward position under her arm. Despite that, Vanessa just radiated casualness.

Caught by the coolest and most mature girl she’d ever known. Candace mentally apologized to Stacy, wondering if she was breaking some BFF-practically sisters code for even thinking that way.

Candace leaned against the table, propping her head up with her elbow. “Yo, Vanessa. ‘Sup with you?”

She cringed as soon as the words left her mouth. Maybe that was too casual.

“My dad’s scheme involves chicken and waffles, so I got out of there before he could make the entire place smell like poultry,” Vanessa said, thankfully not commenting on Candace’s failed attempt at casualness and making things more awkward. “Mind if I join you for a while? I’ve got time to kill and a spare cup of lemonade here.”

“Sure thing! I’m just waiting for Jeremy’s shift to end. Then we’re going out for dunch. It’s like brunch, but it’s a cross between lunch and dinner,” Candace said as Vanessa settled on the opposite side of the table. Vanessa set the cups on the table, sliding the spare lemonade and a wrapped straw to Candace. She tucked her wallet into the purse, setting them in the space between her and the wall. Even Vanessa’s purse was goth with purple highlights. Just enough to get the point across without being overly edgy.

“That’s nice,” Vanessa said.

Candace glanced at the rest of the packed food court. She prided herself on people-watching, but she didn’t see anyone who looked like they’d hang out in the same clique as Vanessa. “So why do you have two lemonades anyway? I mean, it’s a great drink but-“

“-you thought I was a black-coffee-just-like-my-soul kind of person?” Vanessa finished. There was a tiny mischievous smirk on the corner of her lips.

Candace laughed, maybe a little too loudly. She caught herself just in time. “HA! I mean…no way! I would’ve totally pegged you for the latte type! Cause lattes are cool! And trendy! And hip! And…I’m gonna stop talking now.”

To her surprise, Vanessa laughed. “Joke’s on you. I prefer cappuccinos.”

“That was my second guess.” Candace covered her lie with a long sip of lemonade.

Please don’t call me out on not knowing the difference between lattes and cappuccinos. Please don’t call me out on not knowing the difference between lattes and cappuccinos…

“Anyway, there’s a new lemonade kiosk and I was thirsty,” Vanessa said. “Buy One, Get One Free deal this week to celebrate the grand opening. Tried telling the cashier I was by myself, but he insisted on giving me the extra cup because he didn’t want the owner-slash-mascot to accuse him of stealing corporate secrets for the orange juice empire, whatever that means.”

“Owner-slash-mascot?” Candace echoed.

Vanessa pointed behind Candace. Shrieks erupted from several families as a large man wearing a hat decked out with lemons jumped onto their table, disregarding the half-eaten burgers and fries. Whatever lunch was left was quickly snatched away before the man trampled them underfoot.

“BOO-YAH LEMONADE IS IN BUSINESS, BABY!” he screeched, pumping his fists into the air and being oblivious to the crowd’s general annoyance. “GET ‘EM WHILE THEY’RE COLD AND FRESH! LEMONADE RULES, ORANGE JUICE DROOLS!”

“Mall security team to food court! Code Yellow! The owner-slash-mascot of Boo-Yah Lemonade is being annoying again! I repeat, Code Yellow!”

As a mall security team thundered up the escalator, the man leapt off the table and shoved people aside in his hurry to get away.

“I’M A PUBLIC NUISANCE FOR THE GLORY OF LEMONADE!” his voice faded away as he ran into the nearest department store. The crowd parted to let the mall security team through, then went back to their regular weekend at the mall schedules as if nothing had ever happened.

Vanessa swirled her lemonade with her straw. She was probably too used to craziness to be affected much. “So have you watched any of my DVDs yet? Have you gotten to Le Coeur Noir De Douleur et de la Tristesse Douce?”

“Is the goat head supposed to visually indicate the woman’s headstrong nature?” Candace asked. She wasn’t mentioning that she couldn’t pronounce the foreign film titles at all.

Vanessa shrugged. “I thought it represented her childhood on the farm before the loan shark took away the goats as payment for her father’s debt, but your guess is pretty good too.”

“Real art is so confusing,” Candace admitted.

“Yeah, but that’s why it’s so fun,” Vanessa said.

Then Irving passed by their table, holding several large posters with two very familiar faces printed on them. Candace snatched a poster from the top of the stack, startling Irving into dropping the rest.

“Hey, what gives?” Irving grumbled, but Candace and Vanessa ignored his protests.

The poster featured her brothers, an elaborate outdoor battle arena as the bustworthy project of the day, and their backyard as the location. The three prerequisites to any bust.

Dunch would have to wait. It was busting time now.

“Could you tell Jeremy I need to go bust my brothers? He’ll understand,” Candace asked. She tried to fold the poster for easy carrying, but it was too large for her purse and her skirt lacked pockets. Then she crushed her empty lemonade cup and dropped it into the garbage can. “I’ll come back when I’m done.”

“Alright. Nice hanging out with you.” Vanessa waved, and Candace almost tumbled down the escalator in her haste to return the gesture, keep the poster from being ripped, and call her mom at the same time.

But she managed to speed-dial her mom, cackling maniacally as she tore through the mall and weaved around shoppers, only managing to lose a third of the poster in the process.

“MOM! PHINEAS AND FERB ARE HOSTING A HOLOGRAPHIC BATTLE ROYALE BETWEEN ALL FOUR PLAYING CARD SUITS!”

o-o-o-o-o

Vanessa walked up to Slushy Dawg once the line of customers thinned. Jeremy wiped a spot on the counter, smiling brightly before she even got to the register.

She could see why Candace was so enamored with him. Jeremy was either a really good actor or just oddly calm when it came to retail. No wonder Candace felt comfortable enough to push back the time on short notice.

She never could’ve done that with Johnny, and she and Monty needed to coordinate timing on their dates to avoid parental outrage.

“Welcome to Slushy Dawg! May I take your order?” Jeremy asked.

Vanessa shook her head. Slushy Dawg would never get any better, but she kept that comment to herself. “I’m not ordering. Just here on Candace’s behalf. She’ll meet you for dunch once she’s finished busting her brothers.”

Jeremy chuckled. “That’s Candace for you.”

“She’s really running all the way to the suburbs?”

“Candace has a lot of endurance.”

“That’s really cool,” Vanessa said.

“I know, right?” Jeremy beamed.

Candace was so lucky to have an understanding boyfriend. It was definitely a breath of fresh air from what she usually dealt with.

#phineas and ferb #candace flynn #jeremy johnson #vanessa doofenshmirtz #fanfiction #104 words for 104 days #canderemy

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nehswritesstuffs · 5 years ago

Text

The Thick of UNIT - Part XLVIII

Here’s a chapter that’s much shorter than the previous, but still plenty fun.

Chapter Index - FFN - AO3

Someone on Malcolm’s staff comes back from Christmas a whiny wreck. Three guesses as to whom. [Malcolm/Kate, a Malcolm Tucker working in UNIT AU]

Christmas was a success after all was said and done. Keeping each other off the topic of why Lex and Euan were there despite prior plans as to otherwise, the collective Stewart-Tuckers and their offshoots shared stories and laughed throughout the day, all while making certain Florence and Malcolm didn’t want to murder one another. Those who needed to return to work the following day were able to without issue or worry… at least nothing that came from home.

“Mister Tucker, sir, can I have a word with you?” Malcolm glanced up from his computer to see Shaw standing awkwardly in the doorway to his office.

“What the fuck is wrong this time?” he deadpanned. The Communications Head went back to the piece he was reading over for any auto-correct errors and dropped words as his staff member walked into the room. He heard Aparajita snicker manically as she shut the door behind Shaw, trapping him with the pathetic man-child.

“I, uh, learned something interesting over the holiday,” Shaw began. He sank into one of the chairs in front of Malcolm’s desk and attempted to not shake from nerves.

“Go on—we don’t have all day to be faffing about and swapping stories like there’s nothing better to do.”

“I was at Granddad’s for the holiday and his sister was over.”

“…and…? Get to the fucking point.”

“Why is my Great-Aunt Elizabeth coming to work for UNIT after the year’s end?”

“See? Now was that so hard to ask?” Malcolm closed the lid of his computer and folded his hands atop it, lacing his fingers together as he stared down Shaw. Fuck… why was this sniveling shit in his department, let alone related to who he was? “Wouldn’t this be something you should be taking up with your auntie? HR? My wife?” Yes, drop all the fucking hints that he should go bother someone else over this trivial thing and that he was connected enough to say so. “No one needs to ask your permission if your auntie wants to work, let alone work for the same organization you do, that she had been hired into first, by the by. She’s an adult; go bother someone who might actually be able to give or do a fuck about it.”

“I’m asking you because she said that you specifically were the reason she’s coming back to UNIT,” Shaw elaborated. “Do you really hate me that much?”

“This is why you’re constantly wallowing in a sty of self-pity and angst,” Malcolm fired back. “It’s not about you, it’s about her and what she can contribute to this organization. UNIT recruits where and when it can, and I’m fucking ecstatic to admit that yes, I sniped one of Cambridge’s premier academic minds and noteworthy members of faculty from right under their posh arses and there is nothing those fuckers can do about it.”

“Why though?”

“You’re her kin, you should know more than me how fucking brilliant she is.”

“She swore off UNIT though—why would she come back?”

“There are opportunities here now that weren’t available back when we were little more than a rent-a-Ghostbuster in tin-foil hats and decommissioned military gear. Some reminding of that was all she needed.”

“…but why did you go?” Shaw wondered. Fuck he wasn’t going to let this go easily. “Do you know how awkward it is to not get more than a dozen words out of her one Christmas, then the next she can’t shut up about my boss? It’s completely disorientating to say the least.”

“You’re thirty-fucking-seven years old—are you telling me that you can’t handle talking to your auntie once a year at Christmas?”

“Considering that dozen words from before was an all-time record that was also disturbing? Yes! If she could barely be bothered once or twice a year, then I hate to see what you’ve unleashed because now she’s going to be here all the time.”

“You won’t even be in the same department as her.”

“…which goes back to my question of why did you—my direct boss and supervisor—go to recruit my Great-Aunt Elizabeth from the most prestigious position she could possibly be in, for a job that is not only a step backwards for her but not even in our department?”

“I went because it’s easier to get past the secretary meant to screen visitors when they think you’re the most shaggable silver fucking fox on the planet,” Malcolm quipped. He relished watching Shaw turn an uncomfortable shade of green, knowing that he put precisely the images he wanted in the other man’s head. If the shit was going to insist on being like this, then it was the least he could fucking do to make things as horrifying for the lad as was Tuckerly possible. “Now why don’t you go look at some midriffs on your mobile and wank off in the loo to relieve some of this immense stress you’re under, because you’re even less of use to me while panicking over what shall amount to nothing.”

“…but…!”

“Get the fuck out of my face,” Malcolm sighed in exasperation. “Rajit! Get the cumstain out of my chair please—he’s being annoying again.”

The door opened and Aparajita poked her head in; the shit had clearly been listening in the entire time. “You heard the boss—time’s up, buttercup.”

“Oh, yeah, I should probably get this out of the fucking way,” Malcolm scowled. He stood and walked out of his office before Shaw could find the gumption to do so, heading down the corridor to where the rest of the department had their large, shared office that was divided up into relatively-spacious cubicles. Most everyone there seemed to be in varying states of sleep-deprived and hung-over, so he decided to be gentle. “Any of you fuckers know why Shaw came a-whining at my door?”

“Not really,” Jenkins frowned. His crusty arse seemed to be in the worst shape, wearing his middle-age poorly. How they were the exact same fucking age baffled Malcolm to no end.

“It’s a real fucking lark this time around, but now that I think of it, you all probably should be in the know, since that is sort of why we exist,” Malcolm said. “Shaw’s auntie is coming back to UNIT to haunt the other, more scientific, departments and keep everyone generally in-fucking-line. He’s crying because he found out yesterday and she’s mean or some bullshit of the like. Personally, I like the ol’ bag; seems like her head’s on straight.”

“Why should we be made aware of this, sir?” Sanchez asked. “Isn’t this Emmett’s problem?”

“It’s because Cambridge is probably not going to let one of their prized, long-time possessions out of its sights without so much as a cursory fucking glance,” he explained. “She’s here to get shit done that she couldn’t back in the Iron Age and there might be a curious journalist or two that wants to sniff around where they shouldn’t because of it. Be sure to run it past me first, but at least now we won’t be caught with our pants at our ankles.”

“‘An academic realized that she needed to shake things up and a change in employment was one of the best ways to do it, so what?’” Hart shrugged in a supposed response. “‘You try being in the same office for forty years and see what that does to your psyche.’ How’s that?”

“Needs a bit of work, but not a bad start,” Malcolm nodded. Younger than Shaw, sure, but the man was much sharper. “Janina, you got anything?”

“How about ‘Bloody fucking ask her, or are you so strapped for news you’re nosing around the fucking Oxbridge gossip columns’?” Husak offered.

“We’re getting somewhere—definitely workshop a bit before the end of the year, but know that it’s low priority because it’s genuinely no one’s fucking business,” Malcolm said. It was then that Shaw finally walked into the office, cringing at the fact that it was still under the jurisdiction of Tuckertown. “That was fast for a wank, you lightweight.”

“I don’t do that sort of thing at work,” Shaw grumbled.

“That implies you do it at all,” Hart mentioned.

“Ugh, gross.” Shaw put a massive pair of headphones on and began to sift through his email in an attempt to ignore everyone.

“He’s just cross because I was the one who caught him actually stroking off in the loo,” Hart scoffed. Malcolm chuckled at that—again, how this Shaw and Thin Lizzie were related, he had no idea.

After making sure that everyone had their assignments for the next few days, Malcolm went back down the corridor towards his office, stopping at the kitchenette to make himself and Aparajita some cuppas. He returned to his PA’s desk with the offering, which even included a biscuit clinging onto dear life thanks to a tiny napkin-hammock stuck between his fingers.

“You enjoyed that a bit too much,” she said, taking the caffeine-and-sugar-laden treat.

“It’s the little things in life, Rajit,” he replied. “If you don’t have the little things, then what the fuck are you doing with yourself?”

“I caught a bit of what you said in the main office; what are you going to do if Shaw attempts to file some sort of misconduct injunction against you?”

“Misconduct injunctions are for the sloppy and irresponsibly-randy of us,” he said. “Nora knows that anything I say or do is after having served prison time for perjury and being caught up in my own ego for two seconds too long—anything he whines about, he deserved.”

“Only you,” she smirked. They both raised their tea in silent regard before heading back to their respective attempts at doing as little work as possible—at least they were on the same page there.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Finally, after Hogmanay came and went, it was 2016. As the calendars turned over towards the new year, the newest member of upper-level staff was starting to get comfortable in her position. A flat-type office was seemingly conjured from nowhere for Dr. Shaw, making it that she could live on-mainframe and not have to worry about leaving whether it be during emergencies or if she couldn’t be arsed to do so. She was nearly settled when it was time for the first heads-of-staff meeting of the year, where all department heads and advisors were required to be there. The only one who could not show up was Benton, as he had a bad cold and his wife barred him from leaving the house.

“Before I start this meeting,” Kate began, looking at the others gathered in the conference room, “I would like to formally introduce the newest member of our staff. While some of you have already met her, for those who haven’t, towards the end of the table is Dr. Elizabeth Shaw, our new Scientific Advisor. Due to the instability we have experienced in relying on a certain someone as our main advisory scientific mind, she shall instead be the main person assisting us in matters of varying importance and difficulties across multiple departments, with the Doctor being put on an utmost-emergencies-only basis. Dr. Shaw’s previous positions involve a few decades at Cambridge after a prior stint in UNIT. This makes her Old Guard and I would like to see her treated as such.”

The conference room was deathly silent as everyone glanced towards the new person to their ranks. Dr. Shaw took the opportunity to stand, towering over all those who were seated.

“I’m eager to see how things have changed since I last left,” she said. “Back when I took up my position at Cambridge, I left this place not as a Mainframe, nor as an underground compound, but an office complex and a few rented warehouses haphazardly spread throughout multiple counties. I did not take this position to sit back and coast my way towards death; impress me.”

She then sat down, letting her speech settle in the room. No one seemed to want to respond, until Group Captain Arwell cleared his throat.

“With all due respect, ma’am,” he said, “while it is admirable to come back to us after so long and fill a void that is sorely needed, why is the best course of action to call you specifically instead of attempting to get a firmer rein on the Doctor? I imagine you already answered this question before you came on, though I would like to hear the answer for myself.”

“Would you question things if it were me?” Captain Blythe asked from across the table. Arwell nodded respectfully at his colleague.

“I should hope that everyone would question if it was me, so yes,” he replied. “Dr. Shaw? Ma’am?” The newest member of staff cleared her throat—she was going to have fun with this.

“The best course of action is to call on me instead of the Doctor is because not only did I survive him in analogue, by the way, I also turned down staying with him long enough to go on a spin around the galaxy,” Dr. Shaw responded firmly. “I denied him. I was able to get out before I was killed in his recklessness. How many people can say that? He can’t even say that based on how many regenerations he’s gone through, let alone since then. I am the best one for the job because I beat him at his own game.”

“Then that is all the convincing anyone should need,” Arwell said. “It will be an honor working with you, ma’am, for what I hope is a long time to come.”

“That does seem to be something that not everyone has a lot of around here, isn’t it?” Dr. Shaw noted. “Retirements are one thing, but working Mainframe UK tends to be a danger to life and limb from what I’ve gathered.”

“No more than in any other paramilitary organization,” Scarfy shrugged. “It’s the risk we take.”

“That is true,” Kate cut in. “Now that introductions are out of the way, let’s get onto our normal minutes. I believe that Tech and Maintenance has some announcements regarding the general upkeep of and our planned improvements to the power grid. Ji-Yu?”

“Yes, thank you ma’am,” the Tech Head nodded. She brought up a file on her tablet and projected a complicated diagram to the whiteboard on the other end of the room. “As you can see, we are slowly reaching our overall goals to be completely independent of the Greater London power grid, with our projected completion time still on-track for the second quarter of next year…”

“That went over well,” Malcolm muttered lowly, leaning over so that only Kate could hear. He shifted in his seat as he felt her foot go up his trouser leg, the feel of her sock against his skin in such a public place making him harden quickly.

“It’s as good of a start as any,” she reminded him. Without stopping the contact underneath the table, she pointed with her pen towards the presentation and silently nodded: pay attention.

That was easy for her to fucking say.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

A week or so passed, how long was only really discernable by looking up when precisely the last meeting was (which no one actually cared to do) and life in Mainframe UK was going smoothly. It was only when their most venerable member of leadership was healthy enough to check in, did anything remotely interesting happen again, even if it was momentarily.

“…Liz…?!” Benton gaped. The military relic’s eyes went wide at the sight of his former colleague standing in the atrium. It was in the early afternoon, on a day that wasn’t spectacularly active aside from some meteor monitoring. That being said, there weren’t many molemen who were milling about in the area, and a vast majority of those who were had the luxury of being completely engrossed in their varying duties. “I haven’t seen you since…!”

“Alistair’s memorial, I know,” Dr. Shaw finished for him. She finished looking over the contents of a report and handed the tablet to Kistane, the Silurian taking it with him back to his department. One glance at Benton and she knew conditions had been even more prefect for her grand re-entrance than she originally thought—he was completely floored. “What…? Did you think that the next time we saw each other would be when another of us dropped dead? I haven’t resigned myself to such a fate just yet.”

“Kids, behave,” Kate warned. She had been escorting Benton through the mainframe so that he could make inspections on the overnight barracks and armory, as per one of his rare, actual duties to ensure standards and uniformity. “Do I need to leave you be for a moment, or…?”

“Why didn’t you tell me you were coming back?” Benton asked, completely ignoring their boss. “You could’ve stayed with Nancy and me as you got things settled this way…”

“Thank you for the belated offer, but I’m already set,” Dr. Shaw said. “You should stop by sometime, John. Does Nancy still make those meringues?”

“So then you’re back for good?”

“Yes. Why else would I be here, in Mainframe UK, going over plans for an updated transporter prototype?”

Benton then thought for a moment, furrowing his brow. “I thought Peg was the new R&D head…”

“The Osgoods are still in charge of R&D—for goodness’s sake, John, I came here to be useful, not decide on which project to fund.”

“…but you were useful before…”

“Don’t you give me that horseshit,” Dr. Shaw hissed, eyes narrowing as her mood snapped, letting Benton know he hit a sore spot. “You should know more than most how completely useless everyone is around the Doctor, and that you don’t get multiple top-level degrees and accreditations and clout in your chosen fields just to pass some alien git test tubes while looking pretty.”

“Well, now that I think of it, the girl who came after you didn’t even have an A-level in science…”

Dr. Shaw’s nostril’s flared, her temper instantly inflamed. “So then you admit you knew I was grossly overqualified and wasting my expertise!”

“Liz, I…”

“…and you even insinuate I should have languished in that pompous Time Lord’s shadow for longer!”

“Elizabeth, please…”

“Don’t you try to pull anything, you puttering old fool,” she growled. “I not only returned to this Quatermass-cum-Thunderbirds pit of nonsense as one of the top names in all of contemporary science, but I do so in order to be everything that space-time bohemian is too unreliable to ever realize. Now, next time you see me there better be a box of meringues in your hand and an apology on your lips and your wife right there to smack you upside the back of your thick head.” Fuming, Dr. Shaw stormed off, leaving Benton and Kate on their own again.

“Something tells me I should have been expecting this,” Kate quipped.

“Do me a favor, Tiger,” Benton grumbled. “Not a word of this to anyone else; don’t need discontent in the ranks because of it.”

“No rank is going to be discontent because a couple members of Old Guard had half a row about something they’re too young to understand,” she assured. “Now go ahead and take a peek inside the men’s loo to make sure it passes inspection. I almost forgot something here.” She waited until Benton shuffled out of sight and then turned to a moleman, who attempted to hurriedly stash away his mobile. “You.”

“Uhhh… yes ma’am…?”

“I need that entire recording you just took.”

“I wasn’t going to show anyone… no one who matters, anyhow…”

“I didn’t tell you to delete it. I simply want it. Now.” Kate dug in her pocket and pulled out a USB drive, which she handed to the moleman. “Don’t compress it either; largest you can manage.”

“Yes ma’am.” He plugged in the drive into an adapter, then the adapter into his mobile, and transferred the video file. After it was finished, he immediately ejected the drive and handed it back. “Does the Captain’s wife do email?”

“Do email? She was emailing before you were,” Kate laughed. The moleman chuckled awkwardly at that, both of them laughing until her face dropped into a hard line. “Now delete it.”

At least this time she didn’t have to threaten with a mindwipe.

#The Thick of UNIT #Malcolm Tucker #Kate Stewart #satstewart #bollockingUNIT #Malcolm x Kate #Aparajita Khan #Elizabeth Shaw #John Benton #Doctor Who #The Thick of It #fan fiction #it is PCap's birthday in my time zone as I post this #so Happy Birthday Peter Capaldi #you are a real role model and excellent Doctor and I write weird fan fiction of your characters #what an adorable muse and life goal you are #thanks to Mrs. PCap (Elaine Collins) for sharing him with us

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cultofbeatles · 5 years ago

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Heya! New to this fandom, and sorry if you’ve answered this before. I was just wondering what your opinion is on Yoko and her relationship with John?

my opinion on yoko is the same opinion I would have for a stranger. I don't know her personally, so therefore I think it’s unfair to fully judge her or hate her. I understand she did some bad things back in the day (don't know about now. don't keep up with her), but in my life I choose not to actively hate on someone.

the only problems I ever have with yoko is how she started controlling his life, introducing him to harder drugs, extremely jealous, over bearing, dealt with all of his finances, and basically didn't treat him like someone she loved. she was nasty to cynthia and julian. she came into the picture, took control of john’s life, and john let it happen.

if I'm putting a tin foil hat on, I'd assume that she knew how weak and easy John was to get with and took advantage on that. because the story they (ono and lennon) always tell is that john met yoko at her art gallery in 1966 and then fell in love with her. she didn't know anything about the beatles; only that ringo meant apple in japanese. but that’s been proven not to be true.

how they really met was in 1965 when yoko was compiling music scores for a book john cage was writing at the time, and she asked paul for any manuscripts to use. paul said no, but said that John might giver her some. John ended up giving her the handwritten lyrics to “the world.” yoko did know of the beatles as she basically pestered the shit out of paul, and once she realized that wasn't going anywhere she moved to john.

I don't recall it being love at first sight either bc those close to John would see yoko as a stalker. she would send big, long love letters to him about how he was her “inspiration.”sometimes asking for money, and sometimes john would give it. cynthia would claim that yoko would stand outside of their house sometimes for hours; even in the rain. when cynthia asked john about it he claimed she was a weirdo. in wasn't until 1967, when brian epstein died, that things started to change a little bit. and then John started to claim yoko at the motherly figure in his life. calling her his mother.

during the 70′s there was a period known as the “lost weekend” and basically yoko and john split for a while. but yoko made john stay with may pang because yoko didn't see her a threat to the marriage. but around the time of john’s death yoko and him were close to a divorce. so they weren’t this happy love story they've been led on to be.

so it’s odd how dodgy their first interaction were, and how the two of them tried to rewrite history. it’s not nice of yoko to take advantage of john (if she knew what she was doing). I think john got a grip on himself later on and took more control over his life, however it was too late. I don't think she broke up the beatles. the beatles broke up the beatles. but I do think she deserves happiness just like the rest of world, and I hope she’s doing okay.

#hope this okay for you #asks #shaiapitou #sometimes I hate answering asks about yoko or John bc it makes me sad #its always questions about negative stuff or I have to explain negative things #and I wanna be a positive blog #I say that when I'm the most passive aggressive person I know lmao #drink water #John lennon #yoko ono #John lennon and yoko ono

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neverwatchedonepiece · 6 years ago

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635-637: "The Fateful Reunion! Bellamy the Hyena!", "A Super Rookie! Bartolomeo the Cannibal!" and "Big Names Duke it Out! The Heated Block B Battle!"

Luffy’s entire experience of Dressrosa so far.

If I had two words to sum up these episodes, they would be: new characters.

New characters everywhere.

And, if @mrkashkiet is right, some of them should not be immediately written off as battle fodder. I have done my best to keep track of all the new names and faces (let’s face it, Dressrosa has not yet descended into HxH War of Succession level madness).

But I think I have a better handle on the competitors now. Who knew paying close attention would work wonders?

Oh, and I forgot to mention that the influx of new characters is not limited to the Colosseum.

Trafalgar Law: Supplier of Tea and Shade

Yes.

It is the return of Cipher Pol. Except this time, the World Government have unleashed the Big Guns.

The Caesar Handover Team (Law, Robin, Usopp and Caesar) had camped at a pavement cafe near the Long Bridge they must cross to reach Green Bit. They were indulging in a bit of recon because the bridge, to put it mildly, was in a state of disrepair.

A rickey, rusting wreck is what I want to say.

A conveniently chatty waiter was only too happy to furnish them with intel. Apparently, people used to freely cross the bridge two-hundred years ago, but an influx of fighting fish ruined everything. The people tried to reinforce the bridge with iron but it never worked. Yes, people still try to cross. The waiter himself knew people who’d made the attempt. But no one ever came back. (I bet the Smile factory is on Green Bit.)

Caesar and Usopp were not keen on making the crossing. Law told them to pipe down and pulled the “we’re here now, anyway” card. The lack of unrest in Dressrosa was what worried Law. (Sanji noticed that too.) Their king had abdicated suddenly. Why was everyone so calm?

Then something awesome happened.

Robin saw something out the corner of her eye. She cringed, pulled her hat down further over her face. Caesar caught on too.

Three sinister, white-robed, masked people walked down the street like ghosts. They were heading in the direction of the bridge.

It was CP0. According to Robin, they are even deadlier that CP9 and are charged with only the highest level intelligence missions. “When they’re on the move,” Robin said, “nothing good happens.”

Except plot, Robin. Good plot happens.

I mean, come on! First Fujitora is hanging about, supposedly to deal with all the pirates in the Colosseum. Now CP0 have crawled out of the woodwork but they are lurking about the bridge. They are all in on something. They must know or suspect something is going on in Dressrosa. I’ll bet they have intel Luffy and Law don’t.

I wonder if Fujitora wants Luffy to draw out Doflamingo (or at least the proof something is going on). He definitely knows Luffy is behind the beard and he let Luffy go. Why? The plot chickenz.

Zoro , Sanji and Kinemon: Technically All Chasing After Precious Things

Elsewhere on Dressrosa, Zoro, Sanji and Kinemon have all gone their separate, chaotic ways.

Zoro has finally laid hands on Shusui again, but - and I cannot believe I am saying this - a small, thieving, invisible creature *was* behind the disappearance of Zoro’s belongings. And they referred to Zoro as a “human”, which means... I mean, are we really talking fairies here? Why do they need to steal stuff? Are they raising funds for Doflamingo? I have no idea what’s going on. I am at the point of tin-foil hat speculation so I’ll quit before the hat is fully on.

Sanji managed to take out a sniper sixteen metres above ground with one kick. Why the need for a sniper kicking spree? He was being targeted while walking with Violet. I am still suspicious of her. I think she’s in on the whole thing and she is only just beginning to realise that, uh oh, she’s snared a really strong fighter, how do we get out of this one?

Also, Kinemon found himself surrounded by chuckling thugs who threw Kanjuuro’s location in his face. They recognised him by the “top-knot-shaped hat” (lmao). There was a, “If you don’t cooperate, we will kill you and your friend,” moment. Not super interested in this plot point, but looking forward to seeing how Oda weaves it into the wider storyline.

Meanwhile, on The Event Horizon Sunny...

A portal has opened to another dimension.

In the grand scheme of things, everyone who went to Dressrosa got the better end of the bargain because this... this is some weird shit.

(Plus, there was another Momonosuke clue. While Momo was playing at being shogun (and Brook refused, saying he “Only takes orders from Luffy-san”) Dr Chopper observed Momo’s behaviour. Apparently, Momo is putting up a good front, disguising some sort of trauma. What happened to him a Punk Hazard could be a good bet. Maybe there was something else we didn’t get to see.)

Bellamy Is A New Man! Sort of...

Back at the Colosseum, the main event was underway: Block B’s battle! We still haven’t reached the end of it yet but that’s because a lot was happening backstage.

The action picked up where it left off. Luffy’s reunion with Bellamy did not go quite as I expected - in a good way. A lot has happened since Luffy kicked Bellamy’s ass at Jaya. For one, after ridiculing Luffy for his ambition to visit Skypeia, Bellamy made his own trip. He lost his crew in the attempt (I think?) but brought back a huge golden souvenir, which he presented to Doflamingo.

I didn’t quite understand his connection with Doflamingo before. I figured he was part of Doflamingo’s crew and worked exclusively for him. But it turns out Bellamy had his own crew? Maybe they were allied with/working for Doflamingo?

At any rate, since he returned from Skypeia, Bellamy has become a changed man. He has obsessively worked for Doflamingo - who was Bellamy’s pirate hero since he was a kid - in hopes of being promoted to an executive post in the Donquixote family.

That is why he entered the Battle Royale. Not to win the Mera Mera fruit, but for a promotion.

I have the funniest feeling he won’t be getting it.

His spring power is cool, though. Luffy was right. He’s definitely become stronger. The way he took out Abdullah and Jeet was pretty stylish. I also like the character development Bellamy has undergone. Oda has morphed him from a loathsome, one-dimensional mook into someone with ambition who will do anything to achieve his goals. Nice.

Bartolomeo

Now, this guy was a surprise.

When Oda introduced Maynard last episode, I never thought for a minute that the badass Marine who held a knife to a pirate’s throat and took him out so easily would become instant fodder in the very next installment.

That’ll teach me for trying to predict Oda’s intentions.

Bartolomeo acts like an Edgy Edgerson (that’s a bit of an understatement, to be honest) but he does look out for his crew, as all good captains should. The guy who was murked last time by Maynard was part of his crew. Unfortunately for Maynard, Bartolomeo is the revenge type. Maynard was left crumpled in a bloody heap. It was interesting that Maynard had planned to take part in the competition. Was it for intel or were the Marines seriously thinking they were in with a shot at the Mera Mera fruit?

Bartolomeo is also one of the rookies Cavendish loathes. When the commentator introduced him, we learned it only took Bartolomeo a year to become (in)famous in the New World. Apparently, he roasted a crew of pirates and broadcast the footage and bombed some innocent civilians. As you do. He also won the coveted spot of #1 Most Annoying Pirate Who Should Just Go Away (lmao).

This was backed up by the crowd. They booed him like a pantomime villain and pelted him with trash. The bomb prank did nothing to salvage the tatters of his public image. Even Dagama was like, “They hate you so much, brat.”

But Bartolomeo didn’t care. He is super edgy. “Don’t even want them to like me.” (If he met Eustass Kidd, the amount of Edge would reach critical mass and cause some sort of singularity).

I have the feeling Bartolomeo will win this fight.

Why?

He has barely lifted a finger the entire time. When the gong was struck, he lay down like Slaking, took a nap. Then he woke up, pissed in the moat (lmao) and somehow took out Hack the Fishman Karate Master with little effort. He must be a fruit user. I wonder what his power is?

It’s testament to how One Piece stretches the limits of your morality when you find yourself laughing and cheering for a guy who literally roasted his rivals and broadcast the footage over the OP equivalent of YouTube.

And the Award for Most Hostile Leading Question Goes To...

While the fighting was underway, Luffy and Cavendish watched from a balcony. Cavendish gave Lucy the low-down on who the most likely winners would be. Apart from Bartolomeo and Bellamy, there was Elizabello II, his tactician Dagama, Ricky (a mysterious Gladiator), Blue Gilly from the Longarm Tribe, Tank Lepant of Dressrosa, Abdullah and Jeet, and Hack (a Fishman Karate specialist and fan of Jimbei).

Elizabello II, Dagama and Tank teamed up with a cadre of random fodders to protect Elizabello. It turns out Liz has a King’s Punch ability that can take out entire fortresses. The only thing is, it takes ages for it to power up and he can only use it once a day. They must want the Mera Mera Fruit badly, as the restrictions of the King Punch make it pretty damned useless in this context. Even if he did get through to the next round, he might be one-on-one against Jesus Burgess. Burgess does not need to wait an hour to power up a punch. Even if it’s four fighters all in the ring together (I bet Luffy will team up with Rebecca), I don’t see Burgess helping him out.

Blue Gilly is a kick fighter with oddly hypnotic knee pads.

Ricky is a mystery. He is a gladiator other fighters have never seen but some random in the crowd claims he might have once - a warrior who fought with no shield.

The Middle Eastern trope fighters Abdullah and Jeet were taken out by Bellamy, Hack was defeated by Bartolomeo.

All very exciting. I love a Battle Royale.

But most of the action was taking place backstage.

While Luffy and Cavendish watched the battle, a hulking, craggy, mountainous figure approached. I knew he was big because Toei had given him the “Big Guy Clown Shoes” sound effect they use for guys like Moria and Kuma. He had the number 12 tattooed on his forehead. It was Don Chinjao.

He stood beside Luffy and Cavendish and said, “Hey, lovely view we’ve got here. Btw, how is Garp-san doing?”

Luffy, the honest soul, never saw the trap coming. “You know grandpa?”

Uh oh.

Well, the situation escalated hilariously quickly after that.

“Garp was like a real demon to us pirates back then. My wound still hasn’t healed, you know. I need you to pay for what your grandpa did to me. If I’d heard about Garp’s son, Dragon, sooner, you would never have been born.”

Ooft. That’s a heavy grudge.

Of course, Cavendish was like, “WHAT? YOU ARE LUFFY!”

And poor Luffy was still desperately clinging to his Lucy disguise, wondering why everyone was blaming him for things that really were not his fault. “no, really, i misheard. i am lucy, honest.”

“YOU DON’T MISHEAR YOUR OWN NAME!!”

Now both Cavendish and Don Chinjao were steamed. They ended up in a skirmish where Cavendish’s Shiny Sparkly Sword, Durandal, was shown off (to be fair, it does look awesome) and the endurance of Chinjao’s Mighty Skull was tested. Neither were going all out, which was nice.

At any rate, Luffy is now hanging from a window ledge. His promise to Franky is not working out well so far.

Ahhh, that was a good tinkle.

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fortunatelylori · 6 years ago

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Why the Jon/D*any romance doesn’t work (Part 5)

Hey, guys! This last part of my “Why the Jon/Dany romance doesn’t work” series was taken down in the great Tumblr purge and I am now reuploading it. I got a few messages from people wanting to read it and I’m really sorry it’s taken this long to get it back up again. But here it is! :)

This is actually the second part of the “More than 2 is a crowd” section of the series but since it got very, very long I split it up.

Welcome to Days of GOT, the soap-opera where your captor turns into your lover only to turn into your aunt:

The “we’re fucked but not in a good way” scene

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As a general rule, I’ve decided not to take into consideration what any of the people involved in this TV show say in interviews or behind the scenes. They very willingly and intentionally mislead the audience and lie to our faces. I don’t hold it against them but I’m not going to spend my time analyzing and commenting on something that may very well be the writers screwing with me.

However, I find it very interesting that Kit Harrington said that he thought this was the scene where Jon and Dany started liking each other. Because this is, by far, the nicest, friendliest conversation they’ve ever had. It’s almost, dare I say it, human-esque.

Here, I’ll even give you some examples:

Jon: No one is less happy about this than I am.

Dany: I know. I respect what you did. Wish you hadn’t done it but I respect it.

Wow! Appreciation and respect … where have you two been for the duration of this plot?

Dany: […] We weren’t extraordinary without them (dragons). We were just like everyone else.

Jon: You’re not like everyone else.

Hello, validation! Nice to see you again, old friend.

See? Even I’ve been generalized into submission. He’s lucky he’s cute. That’s all I got to say.

Dany: I can’t have children.

Jon: Who told you that?

Dany: The witch who murdered my husband.

Jon: Has it occurred to you she might not have been a reliable source of information?

Dany, you lucky girl! You’ve just been struck by the ever elusive Jon Snow joke! Revel in it for it only comes out to play once a season.

So, all of this is very touching … I mean, I say very …. Mildly, in the near vicinity of touching. It would have been even better had this happened earlier and not in their last private conversation but at this point, beggars can’t be choosers.

However, once you strip away this veneer of friendliness, you do find some quite troubling things in this scene.

Firstly, there’s the main issue they are discussing:

Dany: This place was the beginning of the end for my family. […] A dragon is not a slave. They were terrifying, extraordinary. They filled people with wonder and awe and we locked them in here. They wasted away. They grew small and we grew small as well.

The problem with this speech is that it creates a conundrum for both the audience and Jon. Because Jon’s already heard the flip side of this particular coin, directly from his BFF, Jorah:

Missandei: Why did they build it? (the Dragonpit)

Jorah: Dragons don’t understand the difference between what is theirs and what isn’t. Land, livestock, children … Letting them roam free around the city was a problem.

So how does Jon resolve this issue? He doesn’t. He simply listens to Dany, looks around the Dragonpit and keeps his mouth shut.

Are we to understand that Jon Snow simply doesn’t care about children being burned alive because he wants Dany and her dragons to be as terrifying and awe inspiring as possible?

Isn’t it more likely to assume that Jon simply does what he’s always done in conversations with Dany, essentially keep his thoughts to himself and allow her to think whatever she wants? Which can only mean that despite their pleasantries, their dynamic is essentially the same it’s been since the cave scene. Which, by extension, means we’re just going round and round in ever increasingly polite circles.

Great! I got all excited with no rose petal covered way to go.

Then there’s this:

Dany: You were right from the beginning. If I trusted you, everything would be different.

Jon: So what now?

Dany: I can’t forget what I saw North of the wall. And I can’t pretend Cersei won’t take back half the country the moment I march North.

Remember when I said that Jon had no reason to bend the knee because Dany had already promised to help him defeat the Night King?

Tin foil hat: You know nothing, fortunatelylori!

Shut up, you!

Yes, Jon! You heard that right! A near death experience by either zombification or drowning, a dead uncle and a bent knee later and all you have to show for it is a better placement on Dany’s list of priorities. It used to be -100 before but now the goddamn apocalypse is neck and neck with Dany and Cersei’s competition for a piece of furniture. Enjoy!

The “what is fear of assassination anyway when my hormones are out of wack” scene

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I could analyze every line in this scene but I prefer to cut through all the boring travel arrangements that no one paid attention to and cut to the chase:

Jorah: My queen, love of my life, end all be all of my existence, your safety is paramount to me. Please fly to Winterfell and not risk getting blood all over your pretty blond wig.

Jon: Aaa ... I mean it’s your choice, obviously, but ... would you rather fly and be safe or get on a boat and possibly have sex with me?

Dany: Sex with Jon on a boat, definitely.

However, I will say this is a very interesting line:

Jon: It’s your decision, your Grace. But if we’re going to be allies in this war, it’s important for the Northerners to see us as allies.

It sort of feels like Jon is not giving Dany a choice at all. It’s more of a “my way or the highway” type of proposition but again Dany’s too far down the rabbit hole to notice the difference.

The “this better be good, guys! The whole of Westeros is watching” scene

I’d love to link to b0atbang here but Tumblr hates that scene as much as we do. So for your convenience, I have decided to put my considerable artistic talents to good use and I have drawn what I believe is almost an exact representation of it:

Guys, I spent almost 30 seconds in Paint doing this so please show me some love. Tread carefully, Tumblr, for you are treading on my dreams!

We started this section of the series talking about the “more than 2 is a crowd” rule so it seems only fitting that we should end with this: the most crowded sex scene since whatever porno film you watched last night.

There are 6 people involved in this scene and that’s excluding the actual two people that are having sex! Six people, most of them related to one or both Jon and Dany.

We have Jon’s mother but also Dany’s sister in law, Jon’s uncle but also adoptive father, Jon’s real father but also Dany’s brother, Jon’s brother who is actually his cousin, Jon’s best friend and also family member to the victims of Dany’s latest dracarys incident and lastly Dany’s closest adviser and also ex-husband to Jon’s sister/cousin/the current possessor of a “part of him”. This is Days of our Lives gone terribly, terribly wrong.

I don’t think I have to explain why this is romantic plot suicide. A sex scene between a romantic couple is supposed to be intimate, tender, sometimes steamy. It not supposed to be the smallest part of an elaborate montage designed to tell us that the people currently engaged in the devil’s mambo number 5, are actually related as well as de facto rivals for the Iron Throne.

A lot of people have commented on the inherent issues with the set-up of this scene, from the lack of a first kiss (an absolutely crucial part of any romantic pairing), to the lack of conversation before or after , to the horrible transition from a dying, blood soaked Lyanna to Jon and Dany in the midst of physical abandon and up to Jon’s strange expression:

Jon: I don’t think Tinder is working out for me.

What I would like to do instead is show you a scene that has quite a similar setup to this: it starts off in a bed and also includes the dreaded body flip. This is incidentally one of my favorite sex scenes. I am, of course, talking about the sex scene between Achillies and Brisies in 2004’s Troy. When I uploaded this the first time, @lostlittlesatellites mentioned in the comments section that this film was actually written by David Benioff, which I had forgotten. So not only did the D reuse this set-up for the Jon/Dany scene but actually is well aware of the salient differences between the two scenes, since, you know, he was involved in writing both of them. Another nail in the “Ds suck at their job which is why they couldn’t write a better romance” coffin, I guess.

I would love to put this scene up here in all its glory. However, since Tumblr is a prude that can’t handle the gorgeous physique of one Brad Pitt, I can’t. Just type Achillies and Brisies into youtube because it’s a more liberated platform, incidentally with far fewer Nazis lurking around. Also here is a pic of Brad’s gorgeous abs. Tumblr, eat your heart out!

The body flip:

The body flip in the Brisies/Achilles is counterbalanced by the knife. These kinds of flips are awkward when filmed in a wide shot but the fact that she’s holding a sharp object to Achilles’ throat moves our focus towards the character’s faces and not the awkward body movement.

Focus on details:

When you watch this scene, you’ll notice that a large portion of it is Achilles pulling up her dress and slipping his hand underneath the material. That becomes a very intimate movement that, in turn, creates expectation … And expectation creates interest. It has a much slower build-up than what we get with Jon/Dany and it’s that prolonged moment that makes it sexier.

It tells a story:

This is very important. Words in scenes aren’t there just to make the writer feel important. They set the tone, the level of intensity and make the audience feel like they’re a part of it, instead of being kept at arm’s length because they don’t have access to the character’s thoughts.

The Troy sex scene is a whole story in itself: We start with Brisies trying to kill Achilles but hesitating. We have Achilles admitting he will kill more men and daring her to go through with her plan. We have him flipping her and then tentatively kiss her as she finally gives up and drops the knife to the floor. This is an intimate, character driven scene that marks the transition of these two from enemies to lovers.

That’s not to say that Jon and Dany’s scene isn’t telling a story. The difference is that the story it tells is plot driven, not character driven. What makes their scene inherently interesting are the revelations we receive about Jon and how that will affect the plot moving forward. In that sense they become secondary characters in their own sex scene, just gilded cogs in a much larger plot wheel and far from breaking it, their sex scene is advancing it. To what end, I guess we’ll find out in season 8.

And that’s it, you guys! Hope you enjoyed this series. I do have a few ideas on what to write next but if there’s something in particular you’d like me to cover, let me know.

In case you haven’t read the other 3 parts of the series, you can find them linked below:

Part 1: Are D&D really idiots?

Part 2: Repetition and generalization are the death of romance

Part 3: When everyone and their mother has a different take on the same line of text

Part 4: More than 2 is a crowd

PS: none of the artwork in this meta belongs to me. Except for b0atbang which is the only piece of art worth mentioning anyway and which shall be hanging in a museum near you very, very soon.

#asoiaf #got meta #got s7 #anti-jonerys #my got meta

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spotlightonmringenue · 6 years ago

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Hurting Henry Hidgens’ Feelings: A 3-Part Series

This is also kinda Tedgens but if you’re not into that just please read it for Professor Hidgens and skip over the gay bits

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Part One- Here It’s Safe and Sound

Summary: Henry doesn't mind the silence anymore, but he really needs a break from it.

It's gotten to a point where the continuous silence no longer bothers him.

It's not like he had been totally alone anyway, he had Alexa there to talk to him in case he felt particularly lonely or it got so quiet that the ringing in his ears became too much to handle. Even an AI with limited responses and answers was much better than living completely alone.

Then again, living completely alone and safe was better than living among others and in constant fear of death or destruction. It wasn't like he was alone all day, every day either. Most people wouldn't have their day job double as their main source of social interaction, but Henry Hidgens was not most people. Even though he teaches a room of rarely interested students, he couldn't exactly call it thorough communication. They all thought he was just the kooky old teacher who was one more conspiracy away from joining the league of tin foil hats.

Emma Perkins seemed to be different, though. Not exactly an instant friend, but still was kind enough to respond to his greetings when she entered the classroom and even brought him groceries once, which was a godsend because if Henry had to eat one more package of rehydrated noodles before the end of the world actually arrived, he was going to lose it. But still, mere acquaintances proved to be just enough for him. Besides, he couldn't handle more than that anyway.

Not anymore.

~*~

Henry takes a drag off his cigarette as he paces the floor. His mind is somewhere hazy, but his attempts to clear it and evaluate the situation at hand are proving to be quite difficult. He quickly thinks about how easily he had taken up smoking. He used to be disgusted, knowing how the chemicals royally fucked up the human body and vowed to never touch a cigarette in his life. But after everything, it became all too easy to go through the familiar motion of hand to lips to lungs to mind, and every tremor to still from the nicotine buzz.

This new outbreak...he wonders if it's really all that bad. The infected are happy, no conflicts or arguments. They sing and dance in harmony but still maintain a sense of individuality. Humanity had yet to find a way to create mutual peace among every member of its society, and it had thousands of years to do so. How was this all so bad if it's to create global calm?

He's stopped pacing and remains stuck in such a daze of his swirling thoughts that he doesn't notice the door open, or the footsteps that follow it. It's only the words that cause him to jump out of his thinking to allow his ears to readjust to the sound of someone else's voice besides his own.

"Everyone's asleep. They're beat after all the shit that's happened."

The professor turns his head to glance at Ted, standing there with a demeanor that looks slightly different than it did when he'd arrived. He looks almost...scared. Not entirely, but as if he's so unsure of the future or his own fate than he can't help but display even the slightest bit of uneasiness. Henry can see it. He notices little things like that.

"That's understandable. You've all had a rough day," he responds in his usual matter-of-fact tone, taking another drag off the cigarette he nearly drops when the tremor returns. "Aren't you tired as well? You've been through as much as they have today."

Ted just shrugs and leans back against the wall, watching the other smoke and stare blankly at the floor. "I usually go to bed late anyway. Guess my sleep schedule doesn't give a fuck about the end of the world."

Henry chuckles slightly in return, before taking a moment and extending his pack of cigarettes to offer up one to him. Ted shakes his head and softly declines as he sighs and glances around the room. "...Do you think it really is the end of the world?" Henry asks, his voice barely above a whisper as he talks through an exhalation of smoke.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, what if it isn't the end of the world? What if it's the new beginning?"

"...Are you seriously defending murderous aliens right now?" Ted asks, the tone he uses to ask the question cutting deep into Hidgens' subconscious. "They killed Charlotte. The only thing they're beginning is the fucked up apocalypse nobody wanted to be a part of."

Henry doesn't have a response. He just sighs and smashes the finished cigarette into the ashtray. He has an overwhelming urge to go for another one, but he needs to pace himself, or even more, his supply of cigarettes.

"So why do you stay cooped up in this giant panic room?"

"I'm not cooped up, I'm safe. As I told you all, I predicted this scenario thirty years ago-"

Ted looks at Henry with an expression that makes his heart stop. One with no trace of light-heartedness, one that's familiar and reminds him of things he doesn't want to think of. "I know I just met you today, but I can call out bullshit when I see it. There's gotta be some other reason."

The older man has to look away, and the nerves culminate in him pulling another cigarette from the pack and lighting it as soon as it hits his lips. "There's just...a lot of things I've learned over the years. There isn't some other reason. There are many other reasons. If I can keep myself alive, then there's no point in taking risks."

"I don't think being a part of society is taking a risk, professor. That's just stupid."

Henry has to bite his tongue to keep from snapping at Ted. To keep from explaining that the reason he keeps his distance is because of his first and last best friends. "You can't lose your friends if you don't have them to begin with," he says with finality, signaling that he was ending the conversation right there.

After a few passing moments of silence, Ted pushes off the wall and feigns a yawn. "I'm gonna go get some sleep." He turns and makes way back to the door. "Goodnight, Professor Hidgens." The footsteps tapping on the floor sends Henry back to his thoughts. He thinks about the conversation, about his refusal to make friends...but sometimes he wants so badly to have connections with other people again. Maybe it's not as simple as he thinks it is. Maybe he can't just refuse to have people in his life because he's afraid to lose them again. Sometimes he longs for just someone, anyone, to at least call him by his first name. Hearing Emma call him Professor Hidgens reminds him of all he's accomplished and worked hard for, but he'd give anything to hear someone call him Henry again. To have that simple fucking connection of a first name basis.

Maybe that could happen. Maybe that's the first step he needed to take.

"...Henry," he says quickly before he can hear the sound of the doorknob turn. "My...you can call me Henry."

There's a brief pause and slight tension that hangs in the air, and Henry moves to take another drag before he notices to his dismay that he had let the whole cigarette burn down to the filter.

He doesn't look back at Ted. This whole interaction was making him stress enough. He can't add to it by looking back at what he's sure is the man's smug grin. He doesn't have to look back though, because the man quickly moves to stand in front of Henry, looking at him with a blank stare before a slight smile shows up. It's something new to Henry, something he hasn't seen from the man all day. He'd naturally assumed he wasn't one to display emotions...or at least, the positive ones.

"Alright...goodnight, Henry," Ted replies to kill the silence, patting Hidgens' shoulder as he walks back to the door.

And in an instant, Henry Hidgens is thrown back into the typical silence. The silence that doesn't bother him anymore, but now...neither does the sound.

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Part Two- Still The Dance Goes On

Summary: Showtunes help Henry with whatever emotion he feels.

**Author’s Note: I’d recommend listening to “Rememb’ring You” from Yank! the Musical while listening to this, since it’s the song I’ve quoted and will give you the feel I was going for with this part**

Henry's passion for musical theatre never really left him. If anything, it only got stronger as the pressures of science caused him to seek the comfort of showtunes. He often listened to act one mind blowing numbers to pump him up and motivate him to continue with his work, or sang both parts to sappy duets as he double checked the security cameras surrounding his home. They never failed to help keep him in a high energy mode.

But right now, Professor Henry Hidgens was not in the mood to stay high energy.

He's staring straight up at the ceiling, laying flat across a bare table in his lab as he mindlessly lets the cigarette dangling between his fingers burn down without so much as acknowledging that it was in his hand. He's beginning to no longer need them anyway. They're mostly there as a force of habit, or to remind the man that he was holding something he couldn't drop and therefore kept him grounded.

Soft music is playing in the background, thanks to Alexa, who he'd asked to play his rainy day playlist. It's comprised of soft ballads or songs he often listened to when he needed a break from the dulled silence he was accustomed to. Something calm, quiet, slow. He often sang along under his breath, or gently swayed his foot to the slow beat. Today, however, he's barely even paying attention to the words.

Something's happened to him as of late. He would've wondered what it could be that changed, but he had caught on as soon as it had begun. The way Ted didn't grow annoyed or worried when he talked about musicals, but instead watched the professor with intrigue and genuine interest. The way he smiled and never snapped at him out of habit or in self defense. The way their connection had gone from mere acquaintances to a deep friendship in a matter or weeks, and he knew that's the exact reason that he no longer had the urge to chain smoke.

Because the shaking hands are gone, the racing thoughts are slowed, and he no longer feels panicked by a strengthening connection. He knows that these things should be silly, he's a grown man for God's sake, but it's really not that simple. None of it is, but he can't keep dwelling on it. If he does, he's sure it'll kill him.

It's later than he thought, he notices when he sees a digital clock reading "2:47 AM". He figures everyone else is asleep, and he should be too. But the sound of the doorknob and familiar footsteps make him sit up and take a deep breath. "I know you said your sleep schedule is different than most people, but I think this is a little extreme."

Ted chuckles in reply and stands in front of the other, crossing his arms but in a way that feels welcome and not intimidating like he usually acts around others. This is different, a side of Ted that only the professor gets to see.

"Says the only other person who's also awake," he says smugly, turning his head to the sound of the soft music playing. "Something wrong, Henry?"

He still can't quite get used to Ted calling him that, but the way he says it carefully and never in a harsh tone makes Henry feel so relieved. After a quick pause to register what song was ending, he looks back to the man in front of him and shrugs. "I suppose not. I was just thinking."

"You're always thinking whenever I come to talk to you. Do you ever take some time to not think about anything?"

Henry thinks about it, then shakes his head. "There's no time to stop thinking during the apocalypse, Ted."

The song that begins makes the professor perk up. A song he hasn't heard in so long, one he forgot he'd put in the playlist. He stands up and moves over to the speaker, unable to take his eyes off it.

Ted doesn't know what to do. Henry's behavior is rarely normal so he's not usually phased by anything odd, but this was slightly confusing. He watches as the man turns away from the speaker to face him, taking a few steps forward and reaching out his hand.

"I know you can't sing at all, but I think it's time for me to find out if you have enough coordination to dance," he says with a hopeful smile, praying to any deity that Ted couldn't see the tinge of sadness in his eyes. His smile grows wider when the man accepts his offer after a few seconds of hesitation, and they stand together with Henry's hand placed gently on Ted's waist and the other man's hand on the professor's shoulder, slowly moving along to the song.

I can't seem to fall asleep, my darling I keep rememb'ring you

Henry doesn't notice how they get closer as they move, until he can feel Ted's hand move and his head replace it to rest on his shoulder. It's nothing too much, it's just comforting and real and something Henry was missing. Physical contact was an aspect of a friendship he missed. As much as he'd hate to admit it, he craved it more than any other form of contact.

It's at the point when the song ends and they're still holding each other that something happens to Henry. His brain feels like it's exploding, and he lets out a cry of pain as his knees buckle, and he can feel Ted quickly move to keep him upright before he thankfully regains his strength and steps back. Through blurred vision, he can tell Ted looks worried, and he knows he's trying to hide it from him. Ted was really good at that, hiding emotions so he wouldn't look soft around anyone so nobody could hurt him. Henry noticed that. He noticed the little things.

He can't really hear what Ted says to him as he helps him sit in a nearby chair, but he thinks the man was questioning if he was alright. Just like that, the pain disappears as quickly as it had appeared, and Henry nods to allow Ted to calm down. "I'm alright...nothing to fret about."

"You can't say that after you almost passed out in my arms."

He's right, but Henry doesn't know what to say. The pain was quick, and excruciating, but it's gone now, so it's fine. It's just fine. "...You should get some sleep. I'll be heading to bed soon myself."

It was clear that Ted wants to say something back and argue about what had just happened, but he's growing tired and Henry's so adamant about being okay. He trusts Henry.

"Okay...goodnight, Henry."

"Goodnight Ted." The professor watches the other walked out from the chair, before he finally feels safe enough to stand up without getting dizzy. He sighs and stops the music, letting himself return to the quiet. In those moments of dancing with Ted, he realized he needs to talk about it. He needs to talk about the reason he's so afraid of connection, why he had said you can't lose friends if you don't make them.

He needs to tell Ted about the boys. He needs to tell the story.

Henry shifts from looking around his lab to stand in front of a mirror, sighing at the man staring back at him before something catches his eye. Or, rather, something in his eyes catches his attention.

Flashes of bright blue, appearing and disappearing like lightning.

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

Part Three- Everything is Perfect/Nothing’s Real

Summary: Henry theorized this exact scenario thirty years ago. But what if wasn’t simply a theory?

Henry Hidgens is fucked.

He's got it under control, but he's still fucked.

As he paces the floor, he's thankful that everyone else is upstairs getting drunk and he has time to temporarily return to isolation and figure things out. He had made some excuse about needing to go to the lab and do some more research on the blue shit, which just made the others nod and let him walk out of the room. He quickly checks everything over. The gates are locked, the security cameras are perfectly placed to cover every spot of the perimeter of his home, and just in case, he's fully equipped in case all else fails.

He checks his reflection in the mirror again, and nothing's changed. His eyes are still flashing bright blue, and it's more prominent than before. It's impossible to hide now. He needs to think of a way to explain without causing chaos. But then again, this isn't something he could talk about with ease. He still has trouble understanding it himself.

There's a knock on the door, and his eyes return to their natural color. He's relieved, but he knows it's only a matter of time before the flashing returns. As he crosses the room to open the door, he hopes it's not who he thinks it is. That hope fades when he sees Ted standing there, hands in his pockets.

"Alice is making them watch Moana. I decided to duck out."

Henry laughs softly and steps aside to let Ted in before shutting the door behind him. "You should've stayed, it's a good movie."

"I don't really like kids' movies," Ted replies with a shrug, looking around the room. "So, what's going on with the blue shit?"

It takes the professor a second of confusion before he remembers he was supposed to be in the lab running tests, so he immediately fumbles over a response. "I've got a few tests that I'm running that need some time before I'll have the results, but I'm convinced that there's quite possibly a way for the aliens to infect us without entirely doing so, allowing it to hide in our subconscious for years, even decades, before finally spreading to take over."

Ted listens to Henry talk and looks more perplexed with each word. "So they can just hide in our bodies? That sounds crazy."

As if on cue, the excruciating migraine returns, this time for the third time that day. He groans loudly and collapses, feeling as though he's being electrocuted from the head down. It's another few passing seconds of pain and blurred vision before it dissipates, and then he can tell that Ted is yelling out his name in horror.

"What the hell is going on?! You can't brush this shit off again!" he snaps, and Henry knows it's because he's scared.

"I...okay," the professor starts, regaining his strength and getting up from the floor to take a seat. He grabs his cigarettes from the table and lights the first one he's had in weeks. He had pretty much quit, but this occasion was acceptable for him to just smoke that one. He doesn't think he can get through the story without it. After a couple drags and seconds of silence, he sighs and looks at the floor, too scared to look at Ted in fear of the flashing color returning.

"Remember the musical I'm writing? Workin' Boys?"

Ted nods enthusiastically, the mention of the show making him grin. He loved hearing the other talk about it whenever he had the chance. "Yeah, why?"

"...Well, it's based on a true story. All of those boys were my closest friends. My best friends."

"Were?" Ted asks, his brows scrunching up as he sat in a chair in front of Henry. "What happened?"

The man takes another long inhalation, wishing he at least had enough common sense to go grab some booze to take the edge off before he had started the story. "Do you also remember how I said I theorized this exact scenario thirty years ago? And how Paul was skeptical about that?" Ted simply hums an agreement and Henry can no longer hide.

"There's a reason for that. And it wasn't so much a theory as it was a prediction."

~*~

Henry Hidgens looked at his watch for what felt like the thousandth time. He had been early, but now it was 5:09 and he was still the only person there. He knew full well that the other boys weren't as picky about time as he was, but they also knew he would never let them hear the end of it if they arrived much later. Nevertheless, he just sighed and pushed his sleeve back down over his wrist, looking around the football field. Not a single person was in sight, which was admittedly different than the usual few people walking around, but he figured they were all most likely stuck in afternoon traffic. That's probably where the others were too.

He decided that waiting by himself was getting too boring and decided to take a stroll on his own. He couldn't really go very far though. No matter how many new stores or diners that opened up around town, Hatchetfield felt so incredibly small, but was also the whole world to Henry. It's the place he had grown up, and despite how tiny it was, he could never see himself leaving. He had all he wanted right there. A stable business job, close friends, regular musicals playing at the Starlight. What more could he want?

As he circled back to where he'd been, he could see someone walking toward him from a distance. He could tell who it was right away, the ugly tie giving the man away. Stu always wore the most atrocious ties, but Henry couldn't help but laugh at them. "How are you supposed to play in that suit?" he asked the man with a chuckle, but as he got closer, Henry noticed something different about Stu. The way he was walking towards him, with a slight smile that just didn't look right.

And when he finally got close enough, he realized that Stu was humming. That was definitely different. Stu didn't hum. He didn't like doing things like that, singing or dancing. So when he began to sing, and his expression turned to something more sinister, Henry went from confused to frightened.

"What's going on? Stu, what are you doing?!"

"I want you to join me, Henry! We can sing together forever! Doesn't that sound great?"

As he began to back up, Stu only walked closer to him, until he finally grabbed him and covered his mouth. Henry's mouth began to burn, and the sharp taste of metal made him squirm to try and get out of his friend's grasp. The burning sensation moved down his throat but still lingered in his mouth as he managed to push the other away and take a step back.

The sound of a gunshot made the man flinch, and the sight of his friend laying on the ground made him feel like he was sinking.

~*~

"...I assume that Stu was their trial run because no outbreak happened, and the government organization that covered up his death told me there were a few other casualties, but since the population in Hatchetfield was so small and spread out back then, they had been able to catch on and contain it. They told the public that Stu had been killed while being robbed. The other boys...they knew I was with him when he died. They blamed me for not being able to save him. He was the youngest of all the rest of us. Super smart, skipped a few grades. He needed someone to protect him...and I couldn't do it. Everyone took his death hard...including me. I haven't seen the other boys since his funeral. And since then, I've been preparing for it to all happen again. To find out just what happened to Stu. I suppose I got my answers."

There's silence when Henry finishes speaking, and he lifts his hand to quickly wipe away the tears threatening to spill. He finally arrives at the part of the story that he's worried the most to tell Ted. The part he knows will scare him.

"I think Stu infected me. Partially, at least."

Ted quickly stands up, the fear evident in his eyes. "No, but you're-"

"Still physically conscious, yes. I believe it hasn't developed enough to make me a part of the hive, but it's trying to evolve. That's what's causing the pain I'm experiencing, and my spontaneous bouts of humming to myself. Most of the time I can't control it, but I don't mean to startle you all."

The other man begins to pace, shaking his head as he tries to process everything he was just told. It's a lot, and Ted doesn't know what to do. Eventually, without saying anything, he starts to walk back to the door.

But Henry can't let him walk out. Panic rises in him because he can't lose another friend. He'd lost so many so quickly. He can't lose another friend, not to these aliens again. Most of all, he can't lose another friend, especially when he thinks he just might love this one more than a friend should.

"Ted, wait!"

"Get away from me! You've been keeping us locked up here with you when you've been one of them the whole time! You're probably just waiting to infect us all! And I fucking trusted you!"

The words hurt him. I trusted you. Words that were all too familiar. He trusted you, Henry, and you let him die.

This can't happen again. He'd die before he lost Ted.

He quickly stands from his chair and rushes over to him, and before he can fully assess his actions, he pulls him close and kisses him. It's a little awkward since Henry's not used to kissing someone and isn't used to leaning down. He can tell that Ted's shocked, but he still kisses him back. It's not the spark-flying fireworks that his hopeless romantic twenty-two-year-old self had thought of, but it's real and it's comforting above everything else, and he loves it all the same.

As he pulls back and looks at the man in front of him, he knows that Ted can see the bright color flashing in his eyes. And he knows he can also see those same eyes welling with tears.

"I can't lose another person to this, Ted. Please. I can figure out how to stop it. I will figure out how to stop it. If I can't...you can," he says firmly, looking over at his stock of shotguns, all lined and prepared for any aliens that managed to get through the gates.

Ted follows Henry's gaze and quickly shakes his head. "No. We're not talking about that. We...we gotta get everyone else in here. Six brains are better than one, and we need every idea we got to figure it out."

Henry had never seen the other so determined before. Or so genuine. It was as if kissing him had flipped a switch in him, or had made any walls he'd built break down.

Perhaps Ted had done the same to him.

As the professor just nods and watches him leave, he gets another flash of pain in his head, but not so bad that he can't stand it. It's pain he can manage. Pain he's managed for twenty-seven years, that he just passed off as headaches for far too long.

He knows he lied to Ted when he said he could stop it, but he needs to buy some time. He needs this time with him. To have one last lasting connection with someone before he goes. If anyone's going to kill him, he'd rather it be Ted when Henry's so far gone that he's no longer conscious of his own actions.

It's getting stronger, and he knows it. But he can hold on for just a little longer. He has to.

----

WELP THAT’S THE END I’M GONNA GO DIE IN A HOLE AND NEVER WRITE FANFICTION AGAIN OK BYEEEEE

#starkid #tgwdlm #tgwdlm fic #tedgens #tedgens fic #hurting henry hidgens' feelings #professor hidgens #Now that I'm no longer in Writing Mode I hate this so much #it's so bad #I'm so sorry

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emospritelet · 6 years ago

Note

Ok , christmas prompt: #19 for "sugar and spice", and maybe #36 for vampire gold and belle (make it smutty or not, whatever inspires you)

19: “You know it’s traditional, right?”

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4]

AO3 link

Lacey listened as the shower started running, and put her hands on her hips, looking at her ingredients and reminding herself what she needed to do. She pulled out her phone, adjusted her hat, started the Christmas music, and set to work on preparing the new batch of eggnog.

Weaver seemed to be in the shower for a long time, and she had finished the eggnog and put it in the fridge to chill by the time the bathroom door opened. The turkey was next to be done, and so she hunted through his cupboards for a suitable roasting tin, finding nothing. Sighing to herself, she tugged at her lip with her teeth. Surely he had something.

She wiped her hands on her apron and trotted off to see where he was. The bathroom was empty, the open door sending out steam that smelt of pine resin, mint and herbs. She poked her head around another door, and her eyes widened as she sucked in a breath with a tiny squeak.

Looking back, she supposed that she shouldn’t have been randomly looking in rooms when she knew he had just gotten out of the shower, but there again he should really have shut the door. Weaver’s bedroom was as neat as the rest of his apartment, and he was standing by the window with his back to her, using a towel to get the water off his shoulders. He was naked, droplets of water running down his back and over his backside, and she took a moment to appreciate it. He had a surprisingly pert butt, and she could feel herself grinning as she looked him over.

“You got anything to roast this turkey in?” she asked, and her grin widened as he flailed with the towel and tried to get it around himself.

“Jesus, woman!” he snapped.

Lacey almost giggled as he turned to face her, the towel now wrapped messily around his waist and his eyes shooting daggers at her. A nice chest, too. Just enough meat there to make her want to bite down.

“Well, if you will leave your door open,” she said lightly. “You got a roasting tin?”

“Top cupboard in the corner,” he said coldly.

"Well, why did you put it there?"

"As opposed to?"

"I don't know, somewhere logical, like near the bloody oven?"

"When I need help in rearranging my kitchen I'll let you know," he said. “Now bugger off and close the bloody door, would you?”

She obeyed, and sauntered back to the kitchen, grinning to herself. It was a little while before Weaver entered the kitchen, now fully dressed in jeans and a white shirt with the sleeves rolled up. The scent of shower gel and cologne was drifting into her nose, and his hair was still damp and a little messy. He had shaved, his eyes a little less tired, and she sent him a bright smile.

“Chase your hangover away?” she asked.

“Yes,” he said grumpily. “At least I had until I came in here and had to listen to that bloody racket.”

“It’s Christmas Day, I’m making Christmas dinner, so you have to put up with Christmas music,” she said flatly. “You know it’s traditional, right?”

“Traditional, my bloody arse,” he groused. “Some of those songs I’d never bloody heard of before yesterday.”

“Then I’m happy to have expanded your horizons,” she said, with a grin, and his mouth flattened.

“And you wonder why I finished the eggnog,” he said. “Oh, and by the way, that stupid Christmas hippopotamus song? Still going around in my head at three a.m., so thanks for that.”

Lacey burst into giggles, and he rolled his eyes and picked up the kettle.

“You want some coffee?”

“Wouldn’t say no.”

He started making the coffee, leaning back against the sink with his arms folded as he waited for it to brew. Lacey cut onions, carrots and celery into thick pieces and dropped them into the tin before setting the turkey breast on top, tied up with string to keep its shape. She hummed along to the music as she worked, wiggling her hips in the elf outfit, and could sense that Weaver was watching her from the sink. Probably thinks I’m losing it.

“You like roast potatoes?” she asked, turning to face him.

“Who doesn’t?”

Lacey had to agree with that. She seasoned the turkey and put a tent of foil over the tin. The oven was hot, so she slid in the turkey and straightened up, wiping her hands on her apron.

“Okay,” she said. “Should take a couple of hours. I’ll make a start on the veggies.”

“What are you gonna cook?”

“Roast potatoes, glazed carrots, the red cabbage I made yesterday, and Brussels sprouts,” she said, and wagged a finger at him. “No complaining about the sprouts, they’re essential.”

“Who’s complaining?” he remarked.

“You, ever since I set foot in your apartment.”

Weaver sighed, looking a little weary.

“Well, I’m not used to company,” he said. “Don’t exactly play well with others.”

“Good thing life’s full of opportunities for personal growth, then, isn’t it?” she said tartly, and he chuckled.

“Is that what this is?”

Lacey pursed her lips, looking him up and down very deliberately, which made his eyes narrow suspiciously.

“It’s an opportunity of some kind,” she said finally. “Haven’t decided what yet. How’s that coffee coming?”

Weaver turned away and poured her a cup, handing it out to her wordlessly, and Lacey wiped her brow, tucking a strand of hair back behind her ear.

“You got any cream for this?” she asked, and one corner of his mouth pulled up.

“I’m sure there’s eggnog.”

She shot him a look at that, and crossed to the fridge, finding the last of the cream she had used to make the eggnog and pouring it in. She added sugar and stirred, and Weaver sipped his coffee, setting down his cup and reaching for the plastic container in which she had put the cookies. He handed it to her.

“Sit down,” he said. “Recharge for a minute or so.”

“No, I have things to do,” she insisted.

“Well, if you tell me what you need, I’m sure I can cope,” he said. “Just drink your bloody coffee, I can handle peeling some potatoes.”

He pulled out a chair for her, and she sat down, smirking to herself as he reached for the potatoes. It was nice to cook with someone. It was nice to have some company for Christmas Day, however grumpy Weaver might be. Music playing, excellent coffee in her hands and the prospect of a delicious meal. Things could definitely be worse.

#ficlet: sugar and spice #woven lace #sprite's festive ficlets #ctdg #woven lace fic #my fic #my ficlets

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writinanon · 6 years ago

Text

Weather!

So if you all remember I’ve mentioned a few times that I live in the Midwest, and in a shocking turn of events it’s really fucking cold tomorrow, Wednesday Jan 30th. I mean it’s January, the middle of Winter, but the weather people are all shocked that it’s gonna be cold (I understand that this is unusually cold but we’ve had periods like this previously this isn’t the first time a ‘polar vortex’ has hit) I see a whole bunch of posts about if you have to go out, if you have pets don’t let them out especially birds, and such but I haven’t seen anything about keeping your house warm without raising your heating. So I’m gonna take a stab at it and hope this helps some other people, who like me can’t afford to raise their heat too far above 68 degrees. And a few things to help keep from drying out in all that warmth.

So while you’re inside because I’m pretty certain all schools and many establishments are closed tomorrow (Both my school ISU and my place of work are closed tomorrow, hell even the local community college Heartland is closed and community colleges rarely if ever close) here’s somethings you can do to keep warm.

‘Seal’ your doors and windows. Either through a pool noodle, some towels, or some blankets any cracks in your doors or windows should be closed up. We have the pool noodle on both our front and ‘balcony’ doors because they weren’t sealed properly. With windows cover them with a plastic shower curtain if you have one or some plastic wrap to keep the head in and the cold out, you can also line them with tin foil for better effects.

Candles! If you don’t already have some candles to burn run out and get some while it’s still bearable/places are still open. Get ‘warm’ smells, things either you associate with baking or with summertime. Apple and cinnamon are the two most common scents. They’ll help to trigger your brain’s sensory memory and while the warmth from the small flames isn’t gonna do too much it’s the smells that are gonna help out.

Exercise! Put on a work out video, play Wii fitness, dance with your roommates and have a roommate party, whatever you wanna do, do it. You’ll be moving and burning calories and will be keeping you body warm through working out. Just make sure you’ve got the space for it and make sure if you’re burning the candles too that they’re in safe locations as well.

Snuggle up! Whether with roommates that you’re comfortable with or with stuffed animals or pillows, snuggle up on the couch or in bed under some nice heavy blankets in comfy jammies. Not only will the blankets help but the other body heat will help, if you are like me and don’t like to snuggle much unless you know the person very well stuffed animals make a good substitute just add some more blankets.

Use your dryer if you have one! Toss those blankets/jammies in the dryer and warm them up before putting them to use. You can also do this with your stuffed animals if you don’t have a cuddle partner. A quick burst of heat is nice and feels great.

Hot water bottle! If you can’t use your dryer (because your roommate who left for a few days put laundry inside it said she was gonna take care of it before she left and didn’t)/don’t have one get a strong water bottle, or one of those ones that are silicon/rubber if you happen to have been given one/bought one because they’re actually very useful, and fill it with hot water from the tap. Place it in the foot of your bed because toasty feet are the best, if you happen to have multiple or have made multiple because you have several 2 liters lying around, putting them up your bed is wonderful as well but always do feet first.

Bake! You’re now hungry and need food. Bake something. Cookies, rolls, meats, veggies, finish off a pasta dish as a pasta bake! Baking is great, it usually makes things pretty tender, and the oven warms up your house/apartment. There’s a wide variety of foods to bake.

Cocoa! Hot cocoa is great, hot coffee/chocolate is good, hot tea is okay, I say this because you want something to warm you up and fill you up. Hot Cocoa is made with milk and so it’ll linger a little longer and gives the best warm fuzzies in your tummy, yes even when you make it with almond milk. It’s the heavy feeling of the milk that something like water doesn’t have. That’s why coffee and chocolate are good, you can add milk/cream to them to make them heavier, and tea is okay. Not many people in the States drink their tea with milk so it’s okay. Add a pinch of cinnamon to your coffee/chocolate/cocoa for a nice warmth too.

Humidify! If you’re like me and can get a nosebleed at the drop of a hat you know winter is dry and you need moisture. I’m lucky and my parents bought me a fantastic humidifier for Christmas two years ago that doesn’t need a disposable filter, has a demineralization cartridge so I can fill it from the sink, and does both warm and cool mist. I’ll have it set to warm mist just to help ease my breathing tomorrow but you don’t have to, cool mist isn’t going to make your room colder it’s just not going to open your lungs (think about the steam in a shock it opens up the airways of your nose and lungs that’s what warm mist does for a humidifier). Now if you don’t have access to a humidifier grab the largest pot you own, fill it completely with water and then set it on the stove. Put it on low and make sure to check on it to make sure it hasn’t boiled dry. Once you’re low on water refill it and start anew. This will put water in the air through steam.

Moisturize! Grab your favorite lotion/butter and slather it on. Put on a nice extra thick layer on your feet/legs and then put on big fluffy socks and nice warm fuzzy pants. Rub a lighter layer on your upper body and then pull on your warm fuzzy sleepy shirt. Make sure to get your neck and face as well, a light layer here you don’t want to cake it on. Rub the back of your hands and make sure it’s all absorbed before you go do stuff. Reapply every couple hours to make sure you’re not drying out your skin while trying to keep warm!

Water! Hydrate! Make sure that you’re drinking water. If you can’t drink your water tepid/sink cold, fridge water is fine too. Ice water is gonna undo all your hard work so don’t stick any ice in any of your drinks. If you have to have ice water work out! Make sure you’re moving and not settled because then your body is already there (but ice water isn’t really good for you while you work out so really please don’t drink ice water at this time).

#Cold weather tips #I hope that this helps some people #I know that I learned a lot of this from my parents #Just don't let the cold get the best of you and keep active #it's easy to sleep through it #but keeping active and staying positive really helps fight the cold

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