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sunnyie-eve · 10 months

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14 | Birthday Girl

Series: Significant

Paring: Colby Brock x Original female character

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1.1k

| MASTERLIST |

"Rain or shine, we have made it to Cathedral Cove. And today is Penelope's birthday." Elton starts the video so the guys cheer them and sing happy birthday to her.

"Thank you, thank you." She blushes.

"Are we ready to get this hike done?" Elton asks the four.

The hike there was pretty easy and Penelope just enjoyed looking at the nature that she hardly paid attention to the guys playing around.

"I don't think any other birthday will outdo this." Penelope says standing with Colby and Sam alone looking out at the ocean.

"We still have many birthdays to try to outdo this." Sam puts an arm around her so Colby does the same.

"You got a better birthday compared to us this year." Colby pats her back so they go back to Elton and Corey.

The guys play around more so Penelope takes pictures with her phone of everything and a few selfies of the ocean behind her so Colby photobombs her.

"Must you?" She gives him a look.

"Duh!" He runs off.

Colby ends up in a tree so Penelope takes a picture of him and he gives her a big smile making her giggle, "Okay, now get down without hurting yourself more. I can take care of cuts and scraps but not broken bones." She points her finger up at him.

"Okay, mommy." He gets down the way he got up.

Once he was down, Elton suggested a photo shoot for them all to do, "Penelope, you're a model so give us some tips." He tells her.

"Be confident and don't be shy. Act like you own the world. It's all about you." She tells him what her first photographer told her when she started.

"You heard her boys." Elton claps his hands.

During their little photo shoot, they had a good time making Penelope crack up at how they were acting. When it started to rain they waited in the cave before heading back down for the day. After taking a few minutes to eat a snack, Elton drives wanting to go to the hot water beach.

Getting there Sam and Corey play around while the other three try working on making a hole but luckily someone gives them theirs when they leave.

"Guys we just spent an hour and a half making this." Sam says making Penelope and Colby look at him.

"You spent an hour and a half or we spent an hour and a half." Colby tells him.

"You two played around while we worked." She laughs at him.

"At what point did you touch this and put it in there?" Elton asks Corey holding the shovel.

"I did like..." Corey starts.

"The entire time did you not see him?" Sam asks.

"Yeah, the entire time." Corey agrees.

"So much footage of him with the..." Sam starts but Penelope cuts in.

"Oh, we must have been in an alternate universe for a bit then." She tells him, taking a seat in the water and it was warm like a hot tub.

"Hi." Colby smiles lying down while everyone sits in the hole. "Am I in your space?" He smiles up at Penelope.

"You tell me. You're halfway lying on my lap." She moves hair out of his face.

"I'm trying to stay warm so ignore me while I try to get all of me in this little pond."

"Well, I can tell you that my legs are warm with you on top of them." She laughs.

"Corey, are you cold?" Sam asks as Elton points at Corey's nipples.

"I'm freezing!" He covers himself, "Freaking Penelope has a Colby blanket." Corey nods his head at them.

"My upper half is still freezing." She says holding herself.

"Oh, is the birthday girl cold?" Elton baby talks to her.

"Yes!"

"We should head back to the RV soon. It's cold and looks stormy." He tells the group.

"I'm gonna go early so get off me." She rolls Colby off her legs.

"Bubba is coming too!" Corey jumps up getting his shirt and they rush back to the RV leaving the three. "How is your birthday so far?" He asks as they get in the RV.

"Great thanks to you guys, of course for bringing me along." She hugs him.

"Of course. You can rinse off first. Not only because ladies first but also birthday girl." He moves for her to pass him.

By the time the three joined them, they were already clean and dressed comfortably sitting at the table chatting about random things.

"You sissies." Elton tells them.

"For being cold?" Corey asks confused.

"Yes."

"Then I'm a sissy." Penelope smiles.

"We still love you though." Sam pats the top of her head.

"That's nice to still know." She nods her head, "What do I have to do to not still be loved?" She asks him.

"Break our hearts." Colby gives her a look.

"How would I do that?"

"You move out and leave us." Sam laughs.

"So I'm stuck with your two till we die?" She laughs at him.

"Honey, even when we die you're still stuck with us." Colby messes up her hair.

Her eyes widen thinking about her entire future till death, "I'm fucked." She gets up and goes to the bed to get on her phone.

The three clean up then Elton drives to a place for them to stop and sleep for the night. "Why are you laying up here alone? It's your birthday, Missy." Colby leans against the bunk.

"I'm tired because of the little hike to the cove. And since I'm the birthday girl, I'd love to get some alone time to rest." She rolls to face him.

"You still have to share a bed with us so technically you're not alone..." He says being a smart ass with her.

"I hate you." She turns away from him so he crawls up there to tickle her and she begs him to stop but he doesn't. "Help me!" She cries out to Sam and Corey.

The two look at each other and ignore Penelope begging them to help her. Corey plus out his phone to text Sam so no one would hear what he

Corey: He seems even more playful lately with her.

Sam: Trust me, I've noticed since the lunch thing, lol

Corey: Did something happened I'm missing out on?

Sam: Yep! To pisses Darwin off he kissed her twice but the second kiss made him realize something...

"No fucking way!" Corey shouts out loud making Colby and Penelope loom at him confused, "Oh, nothing. Just something on Twitter." He laughs.

"Well, you got him to stop." Penelope laughs as Colby sits back with the two.

"I'll get you back when you least expect it." Colby narrows his eyes on her.

When it was time to get some rest everyone sang Happy Birthday one more time for Penelope. Laying in the bunk, Colby watches Penelope on her phone going through her snaps. She often went through her saved snaps whenever she was bored.

"Oh, send me that one." Colby whispers to her.

"Are you just watching me?" She giggles.

"Maybe... Send me that please."

"Dude, you're not even in the picture. It's just me on a shoot." She looks at him.

"So? If you won't do it I will." He snatches her phone out of her hand sending the picture to himself.

"You're so odd." She takes her phone back from him.

"For wanting to support you?" She just looks at him before locking her phone to go to bed.

#sam and colby #colby brock #sam golbach #katrina stuart #jake webber #corey scherer #elton castee #tara yummy #colby brock imagine #colby brock ff #colby brock fanfic #best friend #friends to lovers #tfil

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starr-fall-knight-rise · 4 years

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HASO, “A bucket.”

I wrote this little fluff piece this morning because I didn’t have the energy to write anything else. Still fighting with my motivation right now, but I hope you all like it :)

The air smelled like fall, wet dirt, a chill, and the unmistakable tang of mouldering leaves raked into large yellowing piles. The sky overhead was blue, and it was just beginning to warm as the sun peaked higher into the sky. Standing on the sidewalk, he stared down the street of his childhood watching orange and yellow leaves fall to the pavement. In the distance he could hear the shouting of children, and watched decorative skeletons clatter and blow in a light wind.

A soft crunching noise jogged him from his musings, and he turned to see Sunny contemplatively staring at a yellowed leaf, only to watch her pop it into her mouth and crunch on it like it was a potato chip.

He frowned at her and she turned to look at him, “What?”

“Seriously?”

“What do you mean, Seriously?”

“Gonna go ahead and eat the fall ambiance?”

She frowned at him,” The trees aren’t using them anymore, and I don’t see you eating them.” He just shook his head at her, and turned to walk up the front steps and onto the porch. She paused to stare at the cluster of pumpkins on the front steps, and the grizzly faces that were carved into them. His father was a master at pumpkin carving, evidenced by the fact that Sunny made, “What the hell.” she turned to look at Adam and he shrugged.

“What are those?”

“Pumpkins/”

“That does not answer my question.”

“THey are a type of squash or gourd or…. Or something. People grow and eat them most of the time, but it is traditional, in october to carve scary faces on them for fun. Maybe mom has another one lying around and will let you try it out.”

“But why?”

“Back in the day people thought that doing this would help to fend off evil spirits, but now it is more of a contest to flex who is the most artistic. Dad wins every year.”

They stepped onto the porch where fallen leaves were still clinging wetly to the front steps and knocked.

“It’s open!” Came the voice from inside

The two of them slipped in, Adam taking off his shoes and Sunny wiping her damp feet on the entrance rug.

They walked into the living room to find his mother, Martha sitting on the floor at the center of an explosion of pictures, and a couple of open binders.

Adam and Sunny walked in very carefully stepping over the pictures.

“Sorting the photo album again?” “Again, the last time I did this was almost ten years ago.”

Adam wantered closer to his mother and Sunny curiously examined some of the photos, until one caught her eye.

A very tiny, chubby human barely able to stand on his own, and with bright green eyes.

She picked up the picture gingerly in one hand, “Awww is this you? You and your fat little cheeks.”

Adam turned, and Sunny held up the picture. Adam blushed and Martha laughed, Sunny looked at the next picture in the line, which seemed to be paired to the first, but now the small boy had a large bucket on his head, his feet sticking out from underneath. The bucket had holes in the side.

“What are you doing.”

Martha laughed again, “We were playing hide and seek.” Adam was still blushing madly as she continued, “He grew into his intelligence late in life.”

***

Martha walked slowly from the back room into the living room, “Ready or not here I come.”

The house was mostly quiet. The rest of her brood was out with their father on a hike for the day, but their littlest had woken up with a slight cough so she had decided to keep him home. He had spent the first half of the day lethargic, but around lunch time after some strawberries he had perked up and become his usual exhausting self.

“Come out come out. I’m gonna get you.”

It was the giggling that gave him away, but when she turned to look she paused, sagged a bit and rolled her eyes covering her smile and laugh with a hand. The living room was completely clean, aside from a round laundry basket sitting dead in the middle, and two chubby little legs sticking out from under it. Not to mention that since it was a laundry basket it had holes in the side, and she could see him looking at her from inside.

She discreetly took a picture and quietly to herself Lord child i hope you grow into your brains soon

But instead of calling him out on his hiding spot she wandered around the room hands on hips, “Now where could he have gone…. Could he be under here?”

Giggling

She kept up the pretence for the longest time until he seemed to have gotten tired of her charade. She heard the bucket tip over and he ran over on his stubby little legs grabbing her by the leg.

She acted surprised, “OH there you are!. I have been looking ALL over.”

He grinned and hugged her leg again.

She reached down and picked him up and he rested his head against her shoulder.

That was another thing about her youngest. He was VERY VERY cuddly, and she idly wondered what that would translate to when he got older. She patted his back and tried to fix his unruly blond hair which stuck up from all sides of his head, but it was no use, she sighed and gave up.

Oh well, she tried her best.

***

“You know honestly sometimes he is STILL as dumb as a pile of bricks.” Sunny mused setting the picture back down.

Adam rubbed the back of his neck, “I got my masters in aviation and orbital physics.””

“And yet who is the one who insists on putting strange alien plants in his mouth without knowing i they are safe or not.”

Martha frowned at her youngest.

He frowned back, “That is hardly fair, you eat them.”

“I also eat leaves, doesn’t mean you can too.”

She sifted through the pictures and barked a laugh at one that caught her eye, she picked it up, what are you doing. She turned the picture around, and Adam blushed madly. Martha laughed, “Oh yeah, we had to call the fire department for that one.”

“No, no no we are not going to be telling that story.”

A firefighter and a cop framed either side of the picture both giving exaggerated thumbs up with a young boy\ mabe seven or eight in the background stuck, backside first in a bucket of some sort, looking very embarrassed.

Martha grinned, “I think you were seven or eight maybe.”

“IT was Jeromy’s fault.”

****

“I dare you.”

The four boys and one girl stood at the top of the hill staring down.

Maya, who was fifteen years old, older by five years than Jeremy who was eleven, frowned down the hill, “What if he runs into one of those trees.”

“He's got a thick skull, he’ll be ok.” Thomas said ruffling Adam’s hair viciously so the younger boy squirmed protested and ducked away. Adam was a very small boy, shorter than average and very thin. His clothes always seemed too big, his shirts baggy, and the shorts he was wearing were forced to stay on only by the belt his father had had to poke three more holes into to make it fit.

Even his sneakers seemed too big flopping around on his feet with floppy untied laces.

“Who is even going to fit in that?” David asked.

Arguably the smartest of the three brothers, it hadn’t occurred to the others that none of them would fit.

That’s when all their heads turned to look at Adam.

Adam frowned, “But I don’t want to.”

“Chiken.” Thomas said

“Come on your the only one small enough.” Jeremy urged.

“I see your chances of dying as very low, “ David interjected helpfully.

Maya tossed her braid back over one shoulder, “We should at least put some padding down at the bottom. Because if he gets hurt mom will kill me.”

Maya was technically supposed to be babysitting them, and keeping them out of trouble. But as was common with their family, she was not immune to the pull of a hair brained idea especially not when she was just to curious to see how it turned out.

Adam stomped his foot, “But you guys ALWAYS make me do it.”

“Because the buckets are ALWAYS too small for us, “Come on don’t be a chicken.”

Adam sighed and walked over to the barrel. He tired crawling inside it backwards, and when that didn’t work he attempted to go in face first, but every time he was just to tall.

He shook his head, “Too small.”

David looked at him very thoughtfully, and then an idea seemed to jump into his head.

“Not if we fold you in half.”

Adam frowned at him.

“Come on, hold the barrel upright.” The other boys did as told, while David instructed Adam to sit inside butt first.

Adam frowned, “But that doesn’t sound very comfortable, and how am I going to get out.”

“We will tip you out, don’t worry.”

Adam frowned but then allowed himself to slide down into the barrel. It was immediately very uncomfortable.

He wanted to tell them to pull him out but by that time he had been tipped over onto his side, “Ready?”

“No.”

They ignored him.

Adam was near panicking now, it wasn’t exactly easy to breathe.

“Three, two, one.”

And then the world was spinning around him. He rocked and bounced and spun so fast his eyes rolled inside his head. He screamed but the scream was cut off as he slammed painfully into something.

Dazed and sure he was going to vomit, he heard voices.

“Oh no, Adam!”

“Adam are you ok!”

Footsteps raced down the hill.

“Oh no we killed him!”

“Shut up He’s still alive, look.” Something kicked his foot, and he groaned.

He’s still breathing.

“Let him out.”

Something tugged on his feet. But it only managed to pull him and the barrel with it.

“Here you guys hold the bucket and we will pull him out.

Wat ensued was a horrible tug of war on his legs and on the bucket neither of which seemed to want to let go.

“STOP!”

They dropped his legs.

“Um, what if we tipped the bucket upside down?”

“Ok.”

The four of them tried really hard, and at one point almost succeeded until someone’s hand slipped and Adam crashed into the ground very painfully. He was near panic now, “Guys! Get me out of here.”

David patted his foot, “Its ok, ill get you out, ‘we just need science.”

Science turned out to be a shoddy pulley system that went over the swing set and was designed to let them lift the bucket by way of rope and shake Adam out onto the ground.

The problem was the rope kept slipping off the bucket.

“Oh… no.”

A car rolled over gravel.

“Oh no, dad’s home.”

They heard a car door slammed shut, and Adam felt as the others hurriedly rolled him behind the swingset.

A door opened and the jangle of keys followed their father around the side of the house.

“There you all are, glad to see everyone is still in one piece, you didn’t burn the house down.”

“Nope.”

There was sudden silence, “Where is Adam.”

“Uh, he…. He is us, around here somewhere.” Jeremy had always been bad at lying

Their father turned his gaze on Maya, “Maya what is going on.”

“Uh…. nothing dad, we….”

“Don’t even try it….”

She sagged a bit, “We got Adam stuck in a barrel.”

There was a moment of silence, he heard the shifting of footsteps, “You got Adam stuck in a-” The light filtering into the barrel was cut off and he saw the silhouette of his father’s head, “Huh, you weren’t kidding. You are okay in their kiddo.”

His muffled reply came.

“Yeah…. I guess.”

Their dad grabbed the barrel by one end, tipped it over and shook Adam a few times. WHen nothing happened he gently set him back down, “Huh.”

“I hold and you pull his feet, “” They tried again but it didn’t work the second time either.

“Well, I have some tools in the garage.”

Adam began to panic as he thought of his dad's circular table saw.

“NO!”

“Ok ok.”

He heard his dad quiet for a minute and then, “Hey Joe, yeah this is Jim Vir….. doing good, and you, how about the family….. Glad to hear it….. Yeah anyway, my kids got my youngest boy stuck in a barrel like the geniuses they are, and I can’t seem to get him out. You want to send me a firefighter or two with something that can help….. Yeah thanks joe.”

Adam was relieved.

Of course as it turned out it was a slow day at both the police department AND the fire station, so what came rolling up was a motorcade of emergency vehicles. Adam was so embarrassed he wished he could melt through the barrel and into the ground as a group of cops and firefighters walked over to peer down at him from above.

“That looks comfortable.”

“How are you doing there son?”

There barrel was tipped back over, and he even saw his father sna a few pictures as the firefighters and police went to work surrounding the barrel. Of course since the entire towns emergency crew were here that drew curious neighbors who couldn’t help but laugh along with Jim at the antics of his children.

The wors part is when Martha showed up, and ran from the car scared out of her mind assuming something horrible had happened, only to find her husband laughing and taking pictures with the local emergency response team, and her youngest stuck in an oversized bucket.

At the end of the day they were forced to cut him out, but the sweet relief when he tipped onto the ground free at least was almost worth the embarrassment. He might not have thought that if he had known there was still a picture in both the police department and the fire station of him as a kid stuck in a barrel.

***

Sunny was laughing at him by the time Martha was done with her story.

He grimaced, “Why do you only keep finding the embarrassing pictures.

“Oh what is this,”

“What are you wearing?”

Adam covered his eyes.

“Oh yeah, I couldn’t get my other boys to wear it, but he would model anything for me when I needed it. This was when I was doing a commission for a Seventies themed party. Isn’t he adorable.”

“Is that a jumpsuit, and what is with those glasses.”

Adam looked up at the sky.

“And of course when Maya moved out, and I didn’t have the money for a mannequin….”

Sunny picked up another picture, “That is one big ass dress.”

“Ah yes the bell skirts, doesn’t he look nice.”

Adam grunted and cleared his throat, “I think you'll find corsets are surprisingly comfortable. Second of all, I rock the regency and victorian periods, and no one can tell me otherwise.”

He might as well own it.

This was the 41st century, dresses weren’t just for women anymore, and some of them had been quite comfortable.

They would never really be his style, but he could see why someone else would find them appealing.

By this point both Sunny and martha had migrated to the couch where they looked through embarrassing pictures of him as a baby and shared embarrassing stories. Sometimes gross stories as he sat on the other side of the room and suffered silently. Sunny seemed to be enjoying herself though, so he let it slide.

Seeing her happy was nice, since it hadn’t been very common over the past few months.

He blamed himself for that, and wondered idly how long it would take for her to fully forgive him.

He hoped not long.

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luke-patterson-owns-my-soul · 4 years

Text

Unsaid Emily

Title: Unsaid Emily - Charlie x Reader

Words: 4,698

Summary: Y/N is one of the songwriters working on Julie and the Phantoms and cowrote Unsaid Emily. When she has to work with Charlie, sparks fly.

Requested: Only by my idiot brain

TW: None

Author’s notes: I mean no offence to the writers of Unsaid Emily, but I needed it to be this way. Also, I know Charlie just got his car, but it fit my timeline. I hope you like it.

Credit: @nikascott

Receiving the call from Netflix to write a song for a kids’ TV show about a ghost band, you were hesitant, but your friend Dan talked you into it. You had written as a duo before – you wrote lyrics while he conjured up what you personally considered the most beautiful melodies – but this job was just for you.

The brief you’d been given by the show runners didn’t give much away. A song for a runaway son to perform for his estranged mother after his death. The only other information given was that his mother’s name is Emily. Usually, you like vague briefs such as this, but without knowing more, you struggle.

After speaking to one of the showrunners, you’re invited to meet the writers for more information, so you drive down to where the legendary Kenny Ortega is putting the cast through their paces at a band bootcamp. You’ve worked with Kenny before, so when you arrive, he welcomes you with a smile and a hug before the two of you disappear to discuss the song you’re struggling with.

“Why don’t I introduce you to Charlie who’s playing Luke. He’s had intensive discussions with the writers and myself about his character and may have some insight on what kind of things Luke would want to say to his mom.” Kenny suggests rather than only speaking to the writers.

“That would be great, but only if you can spare him for a few minutes.”

“It’s not a problem. Hey, come and grab some lunch with me, I’ll introduce you, and then you can get the information you need.” You loved Kenny and wanted to write the best possible song for his show you could. Standing, you grab your bag before following him out and over to catering.

As soon as Kenny enters the large room, he’s called out to and waved at. With a wide smile, he responds to everyone as the two of you grab some food and sit at an empty table. While you eat, you discuss the show, and Kenny’s hopes for it.

“It may be aimed at a younger demographic, but I want it to appeal to all ages.” He stated as you’re joined by a group of kids so good looking, they can only be the cast. “Hey guys, this is Y/N. She’s one of the songwriters we’ve commissioned. Charlie, once you’ve finished up with lunch, could you spare her ten minutes to chat with her about Luke?” The cast members all say hi before returning to their food. It’s clear to you they’re all creating friendships as they laugh together. But Charlie isn’t getting involved as he looks at you. You can’t help but stare at the actor as his hazel eyes lock onto yours, a small smile on his face as he nods.

“Sure, no problem.” He smiles wider and you almost choke on your food. Kenny looks over at you, a strange smile on his face.

:: ::

“Hi, you needed to talk to me?” Charlie moves along the table once everyone has left to get back to work. You look over at him, noticing how young he looks. From what Kenny’s told you about the cast, you’re not much older than him, but with his short hair and boyish smile, he looks a lot younger than he is.

“Hey, yeah. I just want some insight into the character of Luke.”

“Which song are you writing?” He asks, genuinely interested. He leans his chin on his hand waiting for you to answer.

“The one he writes for his mom after he runs away.”

“Oh, wow. Tough break.” You can’t help but laugh.

“Yeah, I guess.”

You pull a notebook out of you bag and open it to a page where you’d scribbled some questions about the character.

For half an hour, the two of you sit, chatting about the show, about Charlie’s character, and by the time you finish up, you’re pretty satisfied that you can head home and make the song work. After thanking Charlie for his time, you pack your notebook away, ready to go out to your car and drive home.

“Do you fancy coming and watching a rehearsal before you leave?” He asks, rubbing at the back of his neck with his hand. You really shouldn’t, you need to get back home to start working, but you’re intrigued by him. Throughout your talk, you were impressed with the passion he has for both music and acting, but more than anything, the character he’s going to be portraying.

“Sure, but I can’t stay long. I have a song to write for you.” You grin as you follow him out of catering and into the rehearsal space. Immediately, Kenny calls you over where he’s sat with the young girl playing the lead role. She’s listening to a piece of music you don’t recognize.

“All good?” He asks when you join him.

“Great. I should be able to get a rough cut over to you by the end of the week. Is that okay?”

“Fabulous, I look forward to hearing what you come up with. Ready to see these amazing kids rock out before you go?”

“Am I ever.”

“Guys, let’s run through Now or Never.” Kenny calls out. Charlie and his bandmates grab their instruments while the young girl you now know as Madison turns the music off and leaves the stage area.

As the three guys rock out, you can’t help but watch Charlie. He’s a natural lead singer who commands the stage, even in rehearsal, and you know his fanbase is going to explode once the show airs. You take note of his singing range, mentally adding it to the notes you made earlier.

“Kenny, you’re onto a winner with this show,” you tell the director as the song ends. “I’m gonna head out and get started. I’ll let you know once we have something for you.”

Kenny hugs you before turning his attention back to the actors and starts directing them to lead into another track as you exit the room. As you reach your car, you hear footsteps behind you.

“Y/N, are you leaving?” You turn to see Charlie standing behind you.

“I have a song to write, the final one y’all need if I might add.” You smile at him, pulling your keys out of your bag.

“I can’t wait to hear it.”

“Well, I better make it a great track then, huh?” Your words made Charlie grin widely again and you couldn’t help but think how beautiful it was.

“You’re the only one to ask about the characters, so I have no doubt it’ll be amazing.”

His words didn’t surprise you. You were a bit of a method songwriter, needing to get into the correct headspace when writing emotional songs.

“Let’s hope I don’t disappoint.” You bit at your lip as the ever-familiar seed of doubt began to grow in your mind. It happened every time, but you always managed to ignore it.

“I’m sure you won’t. Hey, I was wondering if you’d let me hear it before you send it to Kenny.” That did surprise you. You’d been hired by Netflix, yet the lead actor was asking you to share something with him first.

“Er… I’m not sure if I’m allowed. I mean, what if they don’t like it and don’t use it?”

“Oh, right. Okay. Anyway, it was nice to meet you.” He held out his hand for you to shake. When your hand was in his, he lifted it and placed a soft kiss against your knuckles. A flicker of heat shot up your arm and your eyes shot to lock onto his. Judging by how wide they were, he’d felt it too. Eventually, you withdrew your hand from his, even though you didn’t particularly want to.

“You too. Good luck with the show.” Unlocking your car, you climbed in, and started the engine. With one last look at Charlie as you pulled the door closed, you forced yourself to pull out of the parking lot and drive away.

:: ::

|@charles_gillespie started following you

You stared at the notification on your Instagram account. It had been two days since your trip to meet up with Kenny and the cast – well, Charlie in particular – and you’d been working hard on the song. Intrigued, you clicked onto his profile and scrolled through his photos. He clearly loved the outdoors and spent a lot of time hiking or camping. You can’t help but smile when you see photos of him with his family and friends.

You follow him back and put your phone down to pick your guitar back up to continue working.

|@charles_Gillespie sent you a message

Hey

The app indicated Charlie was typing, then he wasn’t, then typing again, but no message came through. Shrugging, you put your phone back down and continued working. You had a title, a melody, and had almost finished the lyrics. It was full of emotion and if asked, you’d totally admit you had cried more than once while writing it.

How’s the song coming? Another message from Charlie. It made you smile, but you needed to finish working. You turned your phone off and focused.

Finally, the song was finished. All you needed to do was to record a rough cut to send over to Kenny and the writer so they could see if it needed any amendments before sending over the final version along with the chords and lyrics. You head into the tiny studio you have set up in your apartment and record the song. It takes three takes for you to get through it without crying, but once you do, you send it straight over and stop working for the night.

Turning your phone back on, it buzzes insanely with a slew of notifications. Friends checking up on you, your parents inviting you to dinner, an email from Kenny telling you they love the rough cut and asking you to send a cleaner copy tomorrow, and a couple of messages from Charlie on Instagram. Now you’re able to respond properly, you open the app.

Sorry if I’m disturbing you.

I hope the song’s going well.

Hey, sorry. I turned my phone off while I was finishing up. Kenny has the rough cut, so I’m about to chill out and watch a movie. Hope all is well at bootcamp.

You worry the message you reply with is overly formal, but it’s too late as it’s showing as being seen. You busy yourself making some food and picking out a movie to watch. Settling on your couch to watch the first To All the Boys movie, your phone begins to buzz.

Charlie 👅🍀

Instagram video

With a slightly trembling finger, you accept the call and soon Charlie’s face fills half of your screen.

“Hey, Y/N.” he smiles brightly at you.

“Hey.” You’re a little confused about why he’s calling you, but you decide to go with it.

“Kenny played me the rough cut of Unsaid Emily. I just wanted to tell you it’s beautiful and I can’t wait to sing it.”

“Thanks, I’m glad everyone seems to like it.”

“Y/N, we didn’t just like it, we all loved it. So many people were crying when they heard it.”

“I would apologize, but my mom taught me not to tell lies.” His laugh burst out of the speaker on your phone.

“Don’t, it’s great. It’s gonna be a great addition to the show.”

You grab the remote for the TV to turn the volume down as the film you’d picked to watch was starting.

“Hey, what movie are you watching?” he asks when you apologize for the interruption.

“Oh, To All the Boys I’ve Loved Before.” You can’t help but notice he scrunches up his face, and you also can’t help but notice how adorable it looks. “What was that face for?”

“I didn’t think you’d be a chick flick kinda girl…”

“Oh, I don’t watch it for the story.” You can’t help but laugh as he tries to work out what you mean.

“What’s the point of watching it then?”

“Because Noah Centineo’s pretty to look at.” You don’t add the fact he’s not as pretty as Charlie. It’s not exactly something you can admit on a first Instagram video call – not that you’re expecting there to be more.

“I’m not going to disagree, but is he prettier than me?” You laugh and roll your eyes at him.

“I’m not going to answer that question on the grounds that I barely know you.”

“I can see you blushing, Y/N. I think you think I’m prettier, but don’t want to admit it to my face.” He’s full on laughing now and you can’t help but join in.

“Carry on teasing me, I’ll end this call.” You threaten, making his eyes widen slightly.

“I’m sorry. So, tell me about yourself?” You see him getting comfortable on what looks like a bed. He’s soon lying sideways on the screen in front of you. You decide to mimic him, propping your phone against a glass candle holder on the table next to you. You lie on your side facing both your phone and the TV.

“What do you want to know?”

“Well, for starters, how old are you?”

“I’m twenty-five. You?”

“Twenty-one.”

For two hours, the two of you throw questions back and forth as the movie comes to an end without you noticing.

“Do you think you’ll come to set?” He asks you, surprising you.

“I think it’s doubtful. Once I record a cleaner version of Unsaid Emily, my job’s done. I’m not needed anymore.”

“Oh…” Did you detect a hint of disappointment in his voice? No, you didn’t.

“Well, this has been fun, Charles Jeffrey Gillespie, but I have an appointment in the morning, and I really need to get some sleep.” You sit up, take hold of your phone, and walk out of the lounge to your bedroom.

“Taking me to bed, already? Haven’t even had to buy you dinner.” Charlie jokes, making you roll your eyes at him. “Okay. Maybe we can do this again? Bootcamp lasts for a while longer yet, then we’re going to film in Vancouver.”

“That would be great. And thanks again for being nice about the song.” You both say your goodbyes and once the call has ended, you collapse back on to your bed, unsure exactly what has happened.

:: ::

It’s been three months since you had Unsaid Emily accepted by the show, and in that time you and Charlie have video called on Instagram a few times, but you’re both crazy busy. You’re working on a score for a videogame while he’s finished up with bootcamp and has relocated to Vancouver to start filming. The entire time, neither of you suggested meeting up even though you both lived in L.A.

You’re just leaving your parent’s home when your phone rings in your bag. Not recognizing the number on screen, you debate not answering it, but brush your thumb across the screen anyway.

“Hello?”

“Y/N? It’s Kenny. Are you okay to talk?”

“Hi Kenny, I’ve always got time for you.” You hear him laugh down the phone. “What can I do for you Mr. Ortega?”

“I was wondering, because you did such a great job with Unsaid Emily, if you’d like to come on set to watch it being filmed? See how we’ve adapted it?” Well, that wasn’t what you expected to hear.

“I’d love to. When do you film?”

“The day after tomorrow. I’m sorry it’s all so last minute, but I’ve been busy.”

“I can just about manage it. I’ll book a flight when I get back home, then I’ll message you for directions to the studio.”

“Sounds great. See you soon, and I really think you’ll love what we’ve done with the song.” You reassure him you will and end the call and get into your car to drive home.

After juggling a few things around, you’re able to book a flight to Vancouver for the next afternoon. When You message Kenny, he reassures you there’ll be a car waiting for you. You decide to book a hotel for two nights and a flight back the next day. You’ve never been to a TV set, and don’t know how long these things take. As you pack an overnight bag, you realize you’re excited, not only about seeing your work come to life, but seeing Charlie again, in the flesh.

:: ::

Arriving in Vancouver, you walked through the airport and out into the arrivals lounge, looking for the driver Kenny had sent to pick you up. You were able to bypass having to wait for your luggage thanks to only having a small carry-on bag so made it through the crowds pretty quickly. When you emerged, you saw a row of drivers holding signs, but none had your name on. Deciding to find somewhere to sit and call Kenny, you move past the drivers in black suits. Directly in front of you is Charlie wearing a wide grin.

“Hey you. Moonlighting as a chauffeur to make ends meet?” You tease as you approach him. He surprises you by pulling you into a hug.

“It’s weird not seeing your face on a small screen.” He jokes as he leads you outside, taking your bag from you. You can’t help but notice he’s been working out and his biceps are looking impressive. Well, you knew he had anyway thanks to his constant posting on Instagram, and from your video calls, but seeing it up close makes your mouth go dry.

“I’ve had to put make-up on. No filters in real life, Gillespie.” He rolled his eyes at you as he unlocked his car, an orange Nissan Juke.

“Some car there…” You struggle to hold in a laugh and his mock hurt look.

“Look, it may not be pretty, but it’s great for camping and heading out of town to go hiking.” He was almost pouting when he finished speaking.

“Okay, okay. I give in.” you climb into the car. “Why aren’t you on set?”

“I wasn’t needed for a couple of hours, so I offered to come and meet you. I have to be back once you’re checked in at your hotel. Sorry it’s a bit of a rush.”

“Don’t worry about it. I can go out sightseeing while you’re working hard.” You grin at him. “I’ve never been to Vancouver, or Canada, before.”

“You’ve clearly lived a very sheltered life.” He’s teasing so you just stick your tongue out at him before turning your attention out of the window as Charlie maneuvered the car out of the parking lot. “Have you even left California?” Again with the teasing.

“Not only have I left the state, but I’ve also even left the country.”

“That’s cool, where did you go?”

“I studied in London for a year, then I backpacked around Europe for another, before coming home and becoming a functioning member of society.”

“That’s actually pretty awesome. I’d love to do that, just travel around for a year and get to see so many amazing places.” There’s a look in his eyes you recognize. Wanderlust.

Before long, Charlie’s pulling up outside your hotel and helping you out of the car.

“I would make sure you get checked in okay, but I need to jet. I’m sorry, shall we meet up later, I can introduce you to the rest of the cast.”

“That would be great. Message me so I know when to be ready and where to meet y’all.” He agrees, places a soft kiss against your cheek and gets back into the car. You watch him drive away before going to check in.

:: ::

When you took the job of writing a song for a TV show, you never expected to find yourself out to dinner with the cast of said show, watching them do karaoke. All of them have included you, which made you feel as if you’re part of their circle, despite their many in jokes and stories from set. Madison greeted you like an old friend, telling you she’d head a lot about you from Charlie. That surprised you because you hardly knew him beyond the few video calls you’d had.

“He talks about you all the time, and Owen says he can hear his side of the conversations. He teases him about it all the time.” You stare at her, confused.

“That’s crazy. We hardly know each other.”

“Doesn’t stop feelings from happening.” She laughs at you, before dragging you up to perform with her.

The entire evening is a blast, but you all have to call it a night early thanks to their early call to set. You plan to call an uber back to your hotel, but Charlie insists on making sure you get back safe. As you say goodbye to the others, Madison give you a look you don’t even attempt to try and decipher.

“Thanks for tonight, I had a great time. You’re lucky you guys are so close.” You tell Charlie as your uber moves through the dark streets.

“Yeah, they’re great and we’re like a family. I know it sounds corny and cliché, but it’s the truth. I think that’s why Kenny set up bootcamp. It makes going to work so much easier.”

Silence falls over you, but it’s a comfortable one, and all too soon, you’re pulling up outside your hotel.

“Thanks for making sure I got back safe.” You say as you get ready to climb out of the car. Charlie surprises you by following you. “Oh, you don’t need to see me inside, I’m a big girl.”

“I know, but my mom would kill me if I didn’t. I was taught to make sure pretty girls got home safe.” You laugh but are filled with warmth at him calling you pretty.

“I bet you use that line on all the girls.” You give him a nudge with your shoulder which makes him laugh.

“Not really.” He holds out his elbow for you to tuck your hand through as he walks into the building.

Once you’re outside your room, you turn to face him and thank him for inviting you out again.

“It was a pleasure. I just hope you had a good time.”

“I really did. I’ll see you in the morning, then.”

“Yeah, see you.”

:: ::

The following morning, you’re up at what feels like the crack of dawn. You’re regretting the shots you had the night before as you climb into an uber to head over to the studio. The closer you get, the more excited you become. You’ve seen your songs brought to life on screen before, but you’ve never been there for the filming.

As you climb out of your car, you hear someone call out your name. You turn to see Madison and her dad walking toward you.

“Hey Y/N. How are you feeling after last night?” She asks, giggling slightly. You’re more than a little jealous of the fact she’s a minor and is unable to drink any alcohol.

“A bit delicate, but nothing a strong coffee won’t cure.” You smile as she introduces you to her dad as the three of you walk inside. They stay with you as you’re signed in and given a visitor’s pass.

“What do you know about this scene you’re watching today?” Madison asks you as you follow her through the hallways.

“Not a lot if I’m honest. I know a little background to the song and Luke as a character, but nothing else.”

“Woah, you’re in for a treat. I hope you didn’t wear any eye make-up.” Mr. Reyes laughs at his daughter’s words as you reach the catering tent. The aroma of coffee is calling you. “Well, I’ll see you soon, I’m first in hair and make-up.” The young girl gives you a tight hug and leaves you to fuel your need for caffeine.

By the time you’ve finished your drink, and a bagel, the tent is filling up around you. You spot Kenny entering and he makes a beeline for you.

“Y/N, it’s so good to see you again.”

“Thanks for having me. I’m honored to be invited. I know this is a bit unusual.”

“Honey, you don’t need to thank me. It was this guy’s idea.” He stepped aside to reveal Charlie, in full Luke costume.

“Oh…”

:: ::

Standing next to Kenny, you’re silent as the opening bars to your song start to play. A lump has already gathered in your throat as you watch Charlie as Luke singing to his mother who can’t see him. You knew it was an emotional song, but hearing it sung live and in context of the show, you can’t quite believe it’s yours.

You know they have some scenes to film that will be cut into the scene, but you can’t help being mesmerized by the tone of Charlie’s voice as he sings a song of regret.

You feel tears pricking at your eyes as rounds a corner of the set, belting out the final pre chorus, the rasp to his voice, and tears flowing down his face. Kenny takes a look at you and grabs hold of your hand, giving it a squeeze.

“You did good.” He compliments you. Wiping at your eyes, hoping your mascara isn’t running, you shake your head.

“No, that was all him.” Once filming’s over, you make an excuse to Kenny and head outside for some fresh air. You’re feeling overwhelmed and in awe of what they’ve done with your song.

“Are you okay?” Charlie’s voice is soft as he walks up to stand next to you.

“I’m fine, just a bit overwhelmed. I never expected it to… to be that good.” You realize you could have offended him and begin to stumble over your words. “Not that I mean… you’ve got an amazing voice, and you injected so much hurt and pain into the song. It sounded better than I ever imagined it to.”

You feel like a bumbling idiot and turn away from Charlie so he can’t see the embarrassment on your face. He moves to stand directly in front of you, using his hand to gently lift your chin so you have nowhere else to look but directly into his eyes.

“If the song wasn’t right, I wouldn’t have been able to do what I just did, so it’s all on you too.” It feels as if his hazel eyes are looking deep into your soul.

“Thank you.” You finally accept a compliment, making him smile. “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

“Why did you ask for me to be here today?”

“Because the moment I heard the rough cut of Unsaid Emily I felt it was only right you be here. There something in your lyrics and melody that will truly have an affect on the audience, and I felt you needed to see that for yourself.” He suddenly let go of you and looked away.

“Why do I feel like there’s an ‘and’ coming?”

“And… the moment I heard that rough cut, I needed to know more about you. That’s why I followed you on Insta and started the video calls. I needed to know you.”

You don’t know what to say, not that there’s time for you to. Charlie looks back at you, places his hands on your waits, and bends his head to capture your lips in a soft kiss. It’s quick, but gets your pulse racing. He pulls away, slowly.

“Is Noah Centineo still prettier than me?”

You laugh before crushing your lips against is again, this time not so softly.

‘

Tags: @dream-a-little-bigger-x @xplrreylo

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#charlie gillespie #fic #imagine #charlie x reader #real person fic #Mich writes fic

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thejakeformerlyknownasprince · 4 years

Note

The gang on their wedding days

[Been meaning to post this one for a while — since I’m applying to get married today, now seems like the time.]

Jake steps into the room like a child wandering into his parents’ dinner party. His bow tie is askew, seams of his jacket misaligned for all that it’s a custom-tailored tuxedo. If the buttons of his shirt aren’t one hole off from their intended placement, they still manage to convey that impression from across the room.

Rachel feels a rush of affection for him, her first best friend. The boy who’d run and fought and splashed through mud with her, back before adults started telling her to be careful of her dress and him to be careful of her. Only he could show up to his own wedding looking like he’s ready to be expelled at any moment. Only Jake.

And yes, she gets mushy at weddings. Sue her.

Tom steps up next to Jake, far more elegant in an off-the-rack suit. Some people actually got the fashionable genes in this family.

Rachel surges across the room. Tom gets a quick hug, and then she turns all her attention on Jake.

“You only have to look nice for the next three hours,” she tells him briskly.

“Three. Hours,” Jake repeats.

With expert motions she realigns his… everything, until at the very least the clothes are sitting the way the tailor intended. She tries to finger-comb his hair, thankful for the heels that put her at an inch above his height, but it’s obvious that he has also been running his hands through it and the style is hopelessly deformed.

“You can survive anything for three hours,” Rachel says as she does all this. “I’ve seen you do it.”

“But if I mess it up—”

“Then stop, go back, and do whatever it is over. We’re not exactly on a time pressure, here. Nobody’s gonna die if you trip at the altar or forget your lines.”

“Okay.” He stuffs his hands in his pockets, deforming his jacket again. “Okay.”

She can see him starting to relax as he glances around, shoulders coming down. Cassie’s place isn’t quite like they remember — it’s been repaired since the war, the Wildlife Rehabilitation Clinic expanded to nearly five times its original size — but it still feels as close to home as any place does.

“Have a glass of water,” Rachel says.

“But what if I have to pee during the ceremony?”

She rolls her eyes. “Babysit him,” she mouths at Tom.

Tom gives her a gesture in response that approximates What do you think I’ve BEEN doing? Whether he means the last four hours or the last twenty-six years is, really, a moot point.

Rachel leaves him to it, and charges off to go check on the others.

************

Marco leans against a tent pole, trying to roll one of the rings across his fingers the way Vegas poker players do with chips. So far it’s not going well.

“Canapé,” Ax is saying carefully. He attempts to lean next to Marco, nearly going all the way over. “Can-nap-peee?”

“Uh, no.” Marco catches the ring as it makes its third or fourth bid for freedom, stuffing it back into his pocket. “That…” He tilts his champagne flute to point. “…is a canopy. Or a chuppah, I guess. Canopee. Canapay is the little pastry thing you’ve already filched in bulk, don’t think I didn’t notice.”

“Ah,” Ax says. And then, “This temperature and rate of precipitation is within optimal survival parameters for humans, is it not?”

“Nuh-uh, Ax-Man, I will not be pulled in by your smooth small-talk skills.”

“Did you not wish to make conversation?” Ax frowns. And then he stuffs another canapé in his mouth. “This is making conversation,” he adds through the mouthful.

Marco squints. “Is it, though?”

“It is indeed. Did you know that the rotating-wheel can opener was patented in 1870?”

Marco’s response to that one gets cut off when Rachel comes charging across the open tent space like a small freight train. Tobias is balanced on her shoulder, flaring slightly as she runs. She yanks the champagne flute out of his hand. Marco makes a squeak of protest, but Rachel just sets it firmly on a bussing tray and turns back to glare at him.

“What did we agree?” she asks sternly.

Marco rolls his eyes. “That I’d stay sober-ish for the toast, and not do anything too embarrassing.”

“You’re the best man. You have one job, Marco.”

“Excuse you, the best man’s one job was that banger of a bachelor-slash-ette party we did Wednesday night. Did you like the part where we all dived out of a helicopter and flew clear through the lower atmosphere to that rooftop bar? Because—”

“So you got the drinking out of your system. You promised.”

“Sober-ish, come on, it’s just one wine-spritzer-thing!”

Rachel turns away from him, looking Ax over. “You realize you’re going to have to demorph and remorph at some point before the ceremony, right?” she asks. “And that when you do, someone’s going to have to go through the whole kit and caboodle of getting you into that tux all over again?”

“Yes,” Ax says. “Yes, I do.”

She stares at him. He stares back, looking as innocent as it is possible to look while also chewing three jalapeño pastries at the same time.

«You should probably just listen to her,» Tobias suggests. «By the way, where’s your date? Not that I quake in fear for the wedding cake or anything, but, uh…»

“Menderash has been instructed not to eat anything on a human plate without seeking my opinion first,” Ax says, somewhat stiffly.

“Yeah,” Marco says. “So far he’s only eaten two earthworms, a candle, some decorative sand, and part of Collette’s bouquet. You two have nothing to worry about.”

“Part of Collette’s bouquet?” Rachel demands. “We can’t send a bridesmaid up the aisle without—”

“Already replaced it, I am on top of this.” Marco flips his hair back from his face. “I am a flower master.”

«So where is Menderash now?» Tobias asks.

“Helping Cassie’s mom,” Marco explains.

«And Cassie’s mom is…?»

“Delivering a baby cow.”

Rachel makes a noise like she’s choking on air. “Doesn’t Michelle have vet techs for that kind of thing? She’s supposed to be getting ready, not, not…”

“It’s cool,” Marco says. “She’s got her makeup on, her hair is done perfectly, she’s got an apron-thing to keep her dress nice and gloves over her nails, it was a breech birth so they needed a real doctor and Walter was busy supervising the caterers, she’s got Menderash and Steve helping her out—”

“She kidnapped Jake’s dad?” Rachel demands overtop the continuing babble.

“He said he had never delivered an offspring outside of his own species before, and expressed deep curiosity on the subject,” Ax offers. “Menderash is a certified medic with andalite training, so they should be well-equipped to assist.”

Marco makes jazz hands in the air. “It’s a free pre-dinner show! Cow birth. Better than icebreakers.”

There’s a very long pause. Rather than dignify that with a response, Rachel turns and stalks away.

Marco watches her go, halfway awed at her ability to navigate an open yard so well while not only wearing six-inch heels and a multi-layer floor-length dress, but also balancing an enormous updo on top of her head and a red-tailed hawk on her left shoulder.

“Is it just me, or did Jake and Cassie make a monster when they asked her to be maid of honor?” Marco says.

«You wanna take over her responsibilities, then?»

Of course Tobias heard that. Stupid hawk hearing.

“No thank you!” Marco yells after them.

Cassie, meanwhile, is currently picking her way across the open space under the tent, bunches of dress hiked up to above her knees. This last is, of course, the source of Rachel’s consternation.

“Here.” Rachel attempts to pull the wads of skirt out of Cassie’s hands and drop them back to the ground. “You’re going to wrinkle it.”

Cassie stubbornly refuses to let go. “You told me not to let it drag on the ground. If I let it down, it’ll drag.”

“Cassie, Cassie. That is a hand-tailored Christian Dior gown that I commissioned to be custom-fitted to your measurements. There is no way that it is too long if you let it…”

Cassie drops the bunches of tulle. The end of the skirt falls all the way down, where the bottom two inches rest, unmistakably, on the muddy ground.

Rachel somehow manages to wince with her entire body while also not moving at all.

«It’s a look,» Tobias suggests, by way of consolation. «Kind of.»

“How…?” Rachel peers closer at Cassie. “Wait, where are your shoes?”

Cassie shrugs, embarrassed. “Uh, inside somewhere. I was having trouble balancing in them.”

“Well that’s why!” Rachel’s emphatic gesture almost dislodges Tobias. With years’ experience, he dodges her waving arm and retains his perch. “The dress was tailored to fit you with shoes on.”

“They were getting stuck in the grass—”

“They’re kitten heels!”

“Yeah, and they’re still heels.” Cassie looks stuck somewhere between amusement and embarrassment. “I don’t really do heels. Sorry.”

“Hey Tobias?” Rachel says, as if to thin air.

«Nuh-uh, leave me out, I want no part in—»

“Remember me telling Cassie that we should really try the whole outfit on before the wedding?”

«Uh. Yes?»

“Do you also remember Cassie agreeing to it, and then the day of, haring off to go try and save a bunch of vultures instead? Remember how we tried to reschedule, and there was that ALF mission on the same day so she never showed? Remember that?”

Cassie clears her throat loudly. “I think it’s a very nice dress. It’s fluffy and also comfortable, and look!” She tucks her hands away. “It has pockets.”

«Vultures are actually fundamental for waste disposal in ecosystems all over the world, and the poisons used on livestock—»

“Do you think you could at least wear the shoes long enough to go up the aisle?” Rachel asks. “And maybe even for a few photos as well?”

“Uh. I’ll try.” Cassie hikes her skirt back up (Rachel full-body winces again) and starts picking her way across the lawn back toward the house.

“There’s no way I’m going to be able to un-wrinkle it in time,” Rachel mutters.

«Yep. So you’re just going to have to live with it.»

“I hate living with it.”

«Wanna go check on whatever monstrosity of a replacement bouquet Marco probably inflicted on Collette?»

“Fine, fine.”

**************

Cassie walks up the aisle in a custom-tailored gown, an edelweiss and valerian flower crown, and slightly muddy Timberland work boots. The sole on the boots is apparently tall enough that the skirt does, not, in fact, drag on the ground or get tangled in her feet.

«Somewhere out there,» Tobias comments, «Christian Dior is crying into an overpriced silk handkerchief and doesn’t even know why.»

Marco has never more deeply felt the utter unfairness of Tobias being able to use thought-speak while human, because they’re currently standing at the front of the aisle and he can’t even respond.

But Rachel should still count this one as a win. The gown looks stunning on Cassie, lacy and princess-ruffled while also having the kind of practical cut that allows her freedom of movement. And, Marco notes with a smirk, freedom to wear her morphing leotard underneath; the purple spandex is just visible peeking out from underneath the white silk neckline. He’s got morphing clothes under his own tux — never leaves home without ‘em — so really, he can’t judge.

Plus, Michelle’s got her dress and just her dress on by now, and her locs are still tucked into their silver-beaded updo. Really, the cow birth was just a momentary inconvenience.

“Hi,” Jake whispers, when Cassie reaches him.

She grabs his hand. Then she stuffs her bouquet into one of his jacket pockets, and grabs his other hand. “Hi,” she whispers back.

“This is pretty exciting, huh?”

“Yep.”

Ax clears his throat delicately, and they stop talking.

“There is an Earth tradition,” Ax says to the entire assembly, “that the captain of any ship may perform a wedding ceremony at will.”

In the front row of seats, Michelle laces her fingers through Walter’s.

“Although there is no legal precedent for this custom,” Ax continues, “it is nevertheless possible to become ordained as a wedding officiant if one just completes the proper applications.”

One of Jake’s great-aunts mutters something loudly about the lack of rabbi. Sarah leans over and kicks her in the ankle. Rachel beams her approval.

“Therefore, I am here to make official through human custom that which has already been forged through affection and respect.” Ax looks from Jake to Cassie and back. “The bond between warriors who have fought and faced death together can be neither lessened nor improved upon by mere ceremony. The honor shared between two such beings who have chosen to risk loving each other in spite of knowing the reality of loss is one that we recognize today. We can recognize it, but not sanctify it beyond the sanctity of what these two humans have already shared.”

Rachel lets out an audible sniffle. Marco does his best not to smirk at her. It’s not that sappy a speech.

“I have been assured that the bond between two humans who like each other far exceeds the bond between those who merely enjoy each other’s company,” Ax says.

And now Marco has to fight the urge to bang his head against the nearest support pole.

“I have witnessed this myself.” Ax stares around the room. “I have witnessed compromise and forgiveness, compassion and challenge between these two. I therefore believe it is correct and proper that this bond be formally recognized by the State of California. Is there anything you would wish to add?” he says to Jake and Cassie.

Cassie leans up on tip-toe. Jake bends to meet her.

She whispers her vows into his ear, not bothering to share with the rest of the gathering. After a moment, tears on his face, he leans in and whispers back.

Recognizing his cue, Marco grabs the rings and passes them over. They’re boring-looking, in his opinion, plain silicon bands without anything shiny. But they’re also easy to morph, easy to shovel manure while wearing, easy to wear without catching on anything. Very Cassie. Very Jake.

Speaking of which, the Timberlands prove to be a good call. When the time comes, Cassie stomps the shit out of that ceremonial glass.

**********

In a slight break with tradition, Rachel and Tobias are actually the first ones to go back down the aisle. Then Marco wheels Collette out, followed by Tom and Melissa, then Jake and Cassie go. That way, Rachel’s got time to sprint back over to the main tent and check on the banquet.

Most of the tables are arranged correctly, the centerpieces in place and the cards arrayed. Rachel does a mad sprint of the room, straightening decorations and confirming with the caterers that they got all the instructions about who needs what in their diet. Between the number of kosher eaters on Jake’s side and the number of vegetarians on Cassie’s, Rachel made the call to go all the way to a fully vegan buffet. That’s probably going to get some of the relatives complaining about kids these days and rabbit food, but there’s no pleasing everyone.

Rachel deftly switches a few of the placecards, thereby putting Jordan on point to deal with their great-aunt and grandmother who have both already overindulged at the open bar, muttering an apology as she does. She puts Tobias to work making sure the bows on the backs of chairs are straight, and rushes up to the long table at the front to confirm that the armless chair meant to accommodate Cassie’s bulky skirt is in the correct place.

D.J. is here, playlist at the ready. Dance floor is clear of grass. Weather’s holding, but tent covers are on standby.

Slightly sweaty, she rushes back out with a chair under each arm just in time to catch the guests coming across the lawn.

“Everyone except the parents, head off to the cocktail hour!” she calls. “Jake, Cassie, moms and dads, with me.”

While Marco’s date (a photographer named Dakota) sets up the camera, Rachel goes into a flurry of motion straightening bowties, adjusting hairdos, and touching up makeup. Steve’s got a spot of cow blood on his forehead, she discovers to her horror, and by the time she’s done scrubbing that off Jake’s managed to get his tuxedo jacket misaligned again. Finally she steps back, breathing hard, and nods to Dakota.

Everyone smiles. The camera goes off.

“Okay.” Rachel claps her hands loudly, because Jake and Cassie are looking ready to stand up and go join the reception. “That’s one down, just twenty-three to go.”

********

Rather than tossing her whole bouquet all at once, Cassie picks it apart and gives a single flower to every single guest she can find. When the bouquet itself runs out, she disassembles her flower crown and hands that out piece by piece until everyone’s got at least one blossom. It just seems fairer that way, she says when Rachel asks.

Several of the traditions, Rachel reflects, seem to be lost on Jake and Cassie. They cut the first piece of cake… and immediately hand it to Ax. And then they cut the second piece, and the third piece, and keep right on cutting slices of cake and handing them out to people until Rachel has to step in and wrest the knife away. She’s grateful that they refrain from any of the food-fighting nonsense, since both their wedding outfits are headed to a charity auction first thing tomorrow morning, but honestly. They’re supposed to eat the first two slices, not drop half a tier of cake into the black hole of hungry andalite.

Cake served, Marco clinks a fork against a glass. “Ladies, gentlemen, and proletariats!”

There’s a general murmur as people look around, trying to spot who’s speaking.

With a hand from Jake, Marco climbs bodily onto the banquet table. “Everyone!” he shouts, and now they’re all looking at him. At him, and at the champagne flute in his hand. “Jake and Cassie!”

It gets a polite round of applause.

“Gotta start at the beginning, right?” Marco looks around the room, grinning. “So there I am, some snot-nosed three-year-old, minding my own business. And this chubby, dorky-looking little white kid comes running up to me and is like…” He leans in. “‘You wanna be my best friend?’”

He grins at Jake, who is flushing bright red.

“I shit you not, that was his opening line. ‘You wanna be my best friend?’ So I’m like…” Marco pantomimes reeling back in shock. “I dunno man, seems like a lot of commitment to make to a total stranger. You want explore our options first, maybe get a prenup, see if we’re compatible? I mean, for all I know five years from now you’re gonna find some younger, hotter best friend and then there I’ll be out on my ear with nothing to show for it.”

There’s a smattering of laughter throughout the room. Marco visibly draws strength from it.

“But you know what?” Marco leans down to look around, smiling like he’s got a secret. “Little dork kept right on showing up to my house and letting me use his television and getting his mom to give me fluffer nutters, and next thing I know it turns out he really is my best friend. I think he was onto something.

“Anyway, you think that one was bad…” He raises his eyebrows. “Couple years later, there we are in first grade, and this girl in teeny-tiny first-grader overalls comes into the room like…”

Marco claps one hand over the top of his champagne flute and clamps the other under the base, and actually walks a few steps down the table with the determined air of a very small and klutzy version of Cassie.

“And her opening line is…” Marco raises the flute to his mouth like it’s a microphone, dropping his voice. “‘You wanna see my moth?’”

Again, there’s a smattering of laughter. Cassie has a hand over her mouth, halfway doubled over in giggles at the memory.

“Now, us being minuscule and all, I’m like ninety-nine percent sure that there was no double entendre going on here,” Marco says. “And I have to admit, no one has used that line on me since. So I say ‘sure,’ because I’m like six years old and this seems like a reasonable question. She lifts her hand up…”

Marco accompanies this with a pantomime of peering through his own fingers into his champagne.

He looks up. “And it’s not even a freaking moth!” he cries out. “Turns out, it’s just some little worm thing. So I tell her.” He puts on a snotty voice, mocking his younger self. “‘That’s not a moth, that’s just some little worm thing.’”

There’s a pause. Marco glances around the room. “See if you can tell where this story’s going.”

Marco and Cassie glance at each other. Cassie’s grinning smugly.

“She puts it in the classroom’s terrarium,” Marco drawls. “It turns into a rock. Two weeks later, rock cracks open and out pops a moth.”

The room cracks up again.

“So fast forward another few years, and she’s standing there holding this eight-eyed, venom-fanged thing. And she’s all like ‘just touch the spider, Marco. Don’t you want to be a spider, Marco? Isn’t it cute and fuzzy?’ As if she is completely unaware that she’s holding a giant-ass eight-legged freak.” Marco takes a sip for strength. “And right then, I look at Jake. And I’m thinking Jake, don’t ever let this girl go. Because if she doesn’t even think wolf spiders are ugly, then she’s got no idea about you. So here’s to Jake and Cassie. Made for each other, because no one else will have ‘em.”

Jake pokes Marco in the ankle, but he’s laughing as he does it.

“All right,” Marco says, “brace yourselves, and someone get some more tissues for my second mama, because I’m about to get sappy. I love you, Jean!” he calls. “I know we all gotta cry it out sometimes.”

She laughs and flaps a dismissive hand at him, but she’s also misty-eyed already.

“Dudes, I gotta be honest.” Marco is looking at Jake and Cassie. “I didn’t think we’d get here. I honestly did not believe, for a good long while there, that there were gonna be any weddings or graduations or driver’s licenses in any of our futures. Just seemed like a good idea not to bet on any of us having any futures, you know? Seemed like it might be the surest option.”

Cassie laces her fingers through Jake’s. Silently, her mouth pressed into a line, she nods.

“So, uh.” Marco sniffs, spinning back around and thrusting his champagne flute into the air. “Here’s to me being wrong, yeah?”

“To Marco being wrong!” Jake echoes, and tosses back his glass.

“To Marco being wrong!” the entire room calls back.

Marco jumps back down, Cassie and Jake catching him as he lands.

**********

After everyone but Menderash and Ax has finished eating, it’s Tom who becomes the next one to tink a fork against a glass for attention.

“In the spirit of full disclosure,” he tells the room, strolling slowly toward the head table. “I promised my brother there wouldn’t be a horah.” Tom stops, directly next to Cassie. “But what he didn’t know is that I’d already made a promise to my new sister-in-law that there would be. So what’s a guy to do?”

He snaps his fingers.

At this cue, several things happen at once. The DJ switches to “Hava Nagila.” Several people mob Jake at once. Tom grabs Cassie and lifts her bodily over his head, carrying her chair and all to the middle of the dance floor.

With a squeak of laughter, Cassie grabs the top of Tom’s head for balance. Jake is being hauled out next to her on a chair of his own, supported by Tobias and Menderash and Rachel and James. Marco and Ax are herding the rest of the gathering, shoving people into a circle and linking arms together as they go.

“I hate you!” Jake calls over the sound of the music and his own fit of giggles.

“Gotta keep the in-laws happy!” Tom yells back, unrepentant.

*********

“You sure you’ve got everything you need?” Rachel asks.

Cheyenne, the head caterer, gives her a double thumbs-up. The staff are tipped and most are ready to go, having divvied up the several extra schaeffers’ worth of falafel and butternut squash puree and other entrees that Rachel’d set aside for them. Melissa is set to take over tending bar from here, as planned, and she’s going to keep the groomsmen after for a few minutes for cleanup duty.

“Okay.” Rachel glances around at where the last of the countertops are getting a quick once-over with disinfectant. “Okay. If anything comes up…”

“I have your number.” Cheyenne smiles and nods.

Pushing back out of the room, Rachel heads for the gift table. Everything looks like it’s in good order, but she wants to make sure it all gets packed up properly and that none of the cards get lost in the kerfuffle. It’s mostly donation receipts, at Jake and Cassie’s request, but some of the traditionalists on both sides came with soup tureens or the like —

“Hey.” Jake catches her by the arm.

Rachel turns to look at him. “What’s wrong? Is it the great-aunts?”

“Nothing’s wrong. It’s all perfect.” He’s smiling shyly. “Thanks.”

“I need to check on the gifts,” Rachel says, because she’s a coward who doesn’t know how to do mushy conversations, especially not with Jake.

“The gifts are fine,” he says. “It’s all fine. Because you made it that way. So… thanks.”

When he pulls her into a hug, Rachel can’t resist straightening his hair one last time even as she returns the embrace. “You realize I do this for fun, right?” she asks, holding him at arm’s length and looking him in the eye. “Like, I could’ve hired a wedding planner, but honestly why bother?”

He shrugs. “Doesn’t mean I don’t appreciate everything. All of it. Without you, Cassie and I wouldn’t even…”

Then, because this is all getting too honest, Rachel links her arm through his and drags him onto the dance floor for, he’s about to realize, their middle school gym class’s favorite godawful square dance.

*********

When she has do-si-doed Jake within an inch of his life, Rachel tosses him at Cassie. She pivots around and gives Tobias a flourishing courtesy; he returns it with an equally ridiculous bow.

“It is marvelous, how well they have adapted their balance to compensate for their lack of legs,” Menderash comments to Ax.

“Very true.” Ax leans next to him against the bar. They are currently sharing a delicious beverage Melissa has made for them, simply by unscrewing the lid from a nearly-empty jar of olives and handing over the remaining liquid.

It is true, some of the dancers are more talented than others. Michelle and Walter are synchronized with each other and the beat of the music, even if their choice of moves is not nearly as audacious as the spinning thing Marco and Dakota are doing. The bride and groom, meanwhile, are looking at their own feet and keep bumping into each other as they move. Between their relative unconcern with anyone but each other and the broad hem of Cassie’s dress, the other couples are giving them a wide berth.

“Do you wish to attempt such feats?” Ax asks, glancing at Menderash.

Menderash gives a full-body shudder. He flaps one hand in an andalite gesture that, if translated to English, would approximate fuck that.

Ax grins, drinking more olive juice.

“Have you done such a thing?” Menderash asks.

“Never for very long,” Ax says.

Jake and Cassie have given up on dancing entirely, descending into a giggle fit in the middle of the dance floor as they both attempt to disentangle Jake’s cuff link from the lace of Cassie’s hem. Rachel swirls by, briefly blocking their view. She’s switched partners. Dakota is doing their best to teach Tobias how to waltz while Marco and Rachel are now swing-dancing their way across the dance floor.

As both andalites watch in awe, Rachel spins Marco in a circle, swinging him out and then drawing him back close to her body. Marco pirouettes, throwing his head back so that his hair flares around his face, and then throws himself backwards. Rachel catches him neatly around the waist, dipping him nearly to the floor. Marco braces on her shoulders and she flings him upward with her whole body so that she actually lifts him off the floor for a second before gracefully sweeping him back down. They separate until just the tips of their fingers are touching, and then spin back together until Marco suddenly swoops under Rachel’s arm, coming up on the far side as she pivots around in time fro him to fall back against her.

Ax is reminded of the way they fight. There’s something almost joyful in their ferocity on the battlefield. There’s something almost frightening in their enthusiasm on the dancefloor. Neither of them seems to know how to do anything by half measure.

One by one the other clusters of dancers have stopped to watch as well. Jake and Cassie, now sitting hopelessly tangled up in each other, seem quite happy to have the spotlight stolen.

Rachel swoops an arm around Marco’s waist and slides into a back-and-forth tango step. Within two beats he’s caught on, falling into the same rhythm as her. When the tempo of the song changes he grabs her shoulder and nudges her into a circular waltz. They’re unrehearsed, and inexpert, but moving with such force and communicating so rapidly that it doesn’t really matter.

“Yes,” Menderash says softly, “I very much do not wish to attempt to dance.”

Ax smiles at him over the rim of the olive jar. It’s empty, and in the time it takes him to set it back on the bar and catch her eye, Melissa has replaced it with maraschino cherry liquid.

The song crescendos; Marco leans his full weight back as Rachel flings him into a long spiraling turn that ends with him sliding on his knees clear between her legs, popping up behind her just in time to brace as she tips backward into him. She spins once, twice, four times, then swings him into a dip so low that his hair brushes the floor.

As the song ends they freeze like that, chests heaving, hair damp with sweat.

They both seem to become aware at once that the whole room’s watching them. Marco opens his mouth to say something, when Rachel’s smile turns wicked. That’s the only warning he gets before she opens her arms and lets him drop. Marco squawks indignantly, throwing out both elbows to catch himself. He gets ahold of Rachel’s arm and tries to yank her down as well, but ends up pulling himself to his feet as well.

The whole room breaks out into clapping. Marco sweeps into a low bow. Rachel visibly considers pushing him over again before deciding against it. Instead she runs to try and rescue Cassie’s hand-sewn lace hem and Jake’s antique silver cufflinks from their respective owners’ incompetence.

*********

“Hey Tobias?” Rachel says around a yawn.

«Uh-huh?»

Idly they watch as Tom waltzes Cassie’s grandmother around the dance floor. She’s 4’11” to his 6’4”, so it’s pretty hilarious to witness. But at least they’re not totally mismatched: each has a single sprig of valerian from Cassie’s bouquet tucked behind one ear.

She and Tobias are sitting on the ground at one corner of the dance floor. Rachel’s got her shoes off to massage her aching ankles, and Tobias is perched back on her shoulder. With clever motions of his beak he’s fishing the pins out of her hair one by one, dropping them into her hand as he slowly disassembles her updo.

“How do you feel about never, ever getting married?” Rachel asks.

Tobias drops another bobby pin into her hand. «Best idea you’ve had all year.»

#animorphs #animorphs ficlet #animorphs au #(sadly)#long post #weddings #jake/cassie #cake #alcohol mention #rachel berenson #is the canonically biggest cassie/jake shipper on the planet #do it for her #anonymous #asks

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spencersawkward · 4 years

Text

switchblade faith // spencer reid - chapter 4

summary: one month after joining the BAU, Clea is still settling in. between solving murders and getting acclimated to DC, the only comfortable thing in her life is her friendship with Dr. Spencer Reid.

word count: 3.5k

masterlist

there's a place between the bank of a river and the actual water where the soil is soft. it's more like silt, leftover grains of earth not yet swept away. they're extremely delicate, made up of minerals and rock.

I love the earth. I love feeling it under my feet and the way it gives into my fingertips when they push through the surface. I love when I can sense the twisted roots of every plant. they reach for moisture, thin tendrils. there's something very pure about all of it.

which is why seeing the faceless corpse of a woman splayed out on the banks causes my stomach to wrench.

I guess it isn't the only reason, but it certainly doesn't help.

"the edges of these cuts are smooth, not torn," Rossi straightens up from his spot by her body. I don't know how he can get so close. when he waits for me to say something, my lips purse.

"so he must have used a sharp instrument to remove her face." I cross my arms over my chest. the water in her lungs makes me wonder how much pain she was in, how much it hurts to drown. unimaginable.

the slightly blue undertones to her skin imprint themselves in my mind, and my only thought is that I'm glad her eyes aren't open; I get nauseous when they are. instead of dwelling on the gaunt nature of her body, I speak to one of the crime scene experts about the time of death. his voice is barely audible over the rush of water against stones.

we spend about half an hour exploring the site, although something about this place in particular puts me off. I keep edging towards the sides of the river.

"we should meet Aaron back at the station. ready to go, kiddo?" Rossi catches my attention, beginning to make the short hike up the incline. he walks carefully to avoid sullying what I'm sure are expensive shoes, his face contorted with mild disgust. the nickname makes me feel warm and fuzzy inside.

"sure." I turn to scramble behind him, my gaze catching on the scene. jewel-toned leaves heavy with rain, tipping to spill weighted drops in a slow, drowsy fall. and it's now filled with police officers and crime scene experts hauling this poor woman's body to somewhere not so public.

what a world.

we get in the car and Rossi turns the key in the ignition, the engine roaring to life. I sit with my hands folded neatly in my lap; I'm rigid, though grateful, when working with Rossi. it's something I still need to get used to.

"you okay, there?" he asks as we turn out into the street. my eyes turn away from the locust swarm of cop cars that are parked by the crime scene and I take a deep breath.

"yes, why?"

"you're not usually this quiet."

"really?" I deflect. I've never been particularly chatty at times like this. my mind usually gets sucked into what I'm seeing, memorizing every detail against my will for replay later that night.

"I'm a profiler, too, Clea. and a much more seasoned one than you," he glances my way with raised eyebrows. his features are softer than the photos I've seen before this. even the lecture I attended painted him in a different light. I forget how old he is. but his eyes return to the road while he sighs. "I know when something is wrong."

"nothing in particular," I shift in my seat a little. although I'm sure he gives great advice, I'm not ready to share with anyone the dreams that I've been having. "just still getting settled in, I think."

he must notice that I'm lying; I've never been quite good at it, even in front of non-profilers. but Rossi senses the discomfort that I'm trying to hide and nods.

"well, if it helps, I'm going to be having a wine tasting at my mansion once we get back to Quantico. the whole team is invited."

my words get knotted up in my throat as I think on this. "wine tasting?"

"yes. I've got plenty to spare." there's a slight archness to his tone. I smile.

"to be honest, I really don't think I've got the skill set for that," my limbs relax a little. "my experience is pretty limited."

"and you think the others know a lot?" he waves his hand dismissively. we both laugh.

"okay, then." I nod. "thanks, Rossi."

"Prego!" the sudden Italian interjection makes me roll my eyes playfully.

...

our case doesn't take nearly as much time as I expected. with the unsub's narcissism and general lack of intelligence, we catch him rather quickly and are home before the end of the week. there's a collective gratitude for this fact on the plane ride home which takes the form of lively card games and plenty of friendly trash-talking. we also enthusiastically discuss getting together in the evening.

the wine-tasting event that has been so praised by the team turns out to really be just an excuse for everyone to get drunk while draining Rossi's liquor supply. I've had about three different types of alcohol and, beyond the color, I have no idea what kind.

Penelope is pouring more chardonnay in her glass when she offers some to me. I nod, watch the lovely liquid fill up.

"I'd like to make a toast." Rossi announces, much to the feigned chagrin of Prentiss and Hotch. they roll their eyes while the Italian raises a scotch glass into the air. we're in the kitchen, standing around the counter while bantering about our personal lives and past cases.

"keep it short, Dave. I have to head out, soon." Hotch reminds. Rossi gives him a look, but then turns his eyes to me with a paternal affection.

"to Clea," he says, the rest of the team breaking into smiles. "and her hopefully very long career on the team-- if she can stand us."

there's a chuckle that rolls through the group, but then we all clink glasses. even Reid, who has been downing sparkling cider at an alarming rate, taps his flute against mine. I smile at him, at everyone who is now flooding me with questions. I get a happy, bubbly feeling while I drink. Penelope drops her head on my shoulder and mumbles something that I can't quite understand. JJ talks to Spencer about something, his eyes drifting between the contents of his cup and the clock on the wall. he's distracted by something.

"you okay there?" Emily leans against the counter next to me. she's following my line of sight until it lands on JJ and the boy genius. I nod.

"yeah. just thinking."

"about?"

"how it would feel to be this rich." I send her a smirk. she snorts.

"I would love to know."

"how often do you guys have these things?" I peer around at the guests. everyone seems to be accustomed to the behemoth household that Rossi keeps, except for me. and all of it is so clean, too.

"here? only a few times a year. Rossi doesn't like having people over." she says the last part with a laugh, nursing her drink. I cross my arms.

"fair enough."

"I think people are gonna be heading home, soon, though." she checks her watch. I remember how almost everyone here is bound somehow to someone else, a family or significant other or someone who misses them. I'm not tired at all.

"what about you?"

"I have date night plans with Sergio." she grins.

"I didn't know you have a boyfriend." I raise my eyebrows at this knowledge. Emily seems like the type of person to play the field; her settling down with one person is surprising by itself.

"Sergio is my cat," she tells me. "much more cleanly."

"even better." I laugh. we discuss the merits of owning a pet over dating people until JJ decides that she needs to get back to her family. Hotch is heading out, too, and the steady departure stream of guests begins to form. it's not very late and I'd much rather do something else than go home and watch TV, so I survey the room.

"hey, Reid." I find myself standing beside him while he puts on his coat. it's got elbow patches and there's a scarf that he wraps around his neck to accompany it. he peeks at me curiously.

"yes?"

"would you wanna get a coffee or something?" I grab my jacket off the hanger. before he can say no and shy away from my offer, I explain. "I'm just not in the mood to get home right now."

"uh," his eyes dart down to his shoes, then back up at me. "sure. yeah, that would be... fun."

"awesome." I beam. ever since we hung out in that museum in Boston, I've been thinking about how to get to Spencer. maybe it's just because he's been the slowest to warm up to me, but I'm getting more and more curious about him. that moment when he did something playful-- there has to be more of that. and we obviously have some things in common. it might be nice to have a friend like that, someone with whom I can go to art exhibits.

we all thank Rossi for a lovely evening and I'm about to ask if Spencer wants to Uber somewhere when he starts walking purposefully toward a gorgeous yellow car. it's old-- like, 1950's refurbished, old-- and well cared for.

"whoa." I say as he opens the passenger side door for me in a surprisingly courteous move. I slide inside and breathe in the delicious scent of leather and something crisp and sharp. I wait until he gets in on the other side to ask my questions. "is this yours?"

"yes, actually. I got it about a year ago and I don't drive it very often." he runs slender fingers over the wheel, touching it with a quiet admiration. I turn to him in the dark, the glow from his own headlights casting pale shadows over his face as he starts the thing up. it rumbles to life in a charming, old-timey way.

the sounds of the engine defuse the silence between us as we drive into the city. Spencer almost forgets I'm there, the muscles in his wrists and arms relaxing as he handles the steering wheel. I, on the other hand, am painfully aware of his presence.

every time we make a turn, every time his lips part, I start to think he's going to say something. but he never does, and there appears to be no inclination whatsoever. I wonder if I should ask him some random question to get him rambling, but the nervous energy he usually radiates has softened to something more muted.

it's entertaining when he speaks. I think it's also a guard against vulnerability; at least, that's why I speak so much when I'm anxious. I take his silence as a compliment.

finally, he manages to maneuver his way into a parking spot. I glance around the street, not recognizing the place.

"what is this?" I ask curiously. his hand wraps around the stick shift and parks, turns off the vehicle.

"I come here on the weekends." he glances briefly at me before climbing out of the car. I get out and watch him come around to my side. he's only wearing a cardigan over his button-up, which looks surprisingly cozy.

"so, what kind do you usually get?" I ask. we start to walk down the sidewalk, passing streetlamps and small individual trees that are just beginning to go barren with autumn. the restaurants around here are still full of people.

"coffee? black, usually."

"with five or six sugars." I recall, and he turns to me. there's a dimple in his cheek that tells me he's amused by my memory.

"what about you?"

"I like an iced caramel macchiato, or just a latte." I muse. he pulls open the door to a cute corner place with a steaming mug on the logo. it must be exclusive to the neighborhood.

inside, bookshelves are crammed with used titles and people getting a late-night caffeine fix. most of them are glued to laptop screens or flipping through books. it smells warm and delicious.

"do you know what you want?" he asks, drawing me from my observations. I realize that I've been looking everywhere but at the actual menu. it's drawn in curvy chalk.

"yes." I step forward and the barista behind the register smiles at me. I order my favorite drink and am about to ask my co-worker what he wants, but Spencer cuts me off by ordering and then paying for me. I raise my eyebrows as he hands over the crumpled dollar bills, pleasantly surprised.

when we go to wait for our drinks, he shoves his hands in his pockets and doesn't say anything.

"that's not fair." I frown.

"what's not fair?" his voice is distracted.

"I invited you-- I should have paid for both of us."

"it's okay." he gives me a tight-lipped smile. I find myself taking a step close and poking his arm.

"you're so polite."

"thank you." he doesn't know what to do with this information and it partly amuses me.

"so, I know you're from Nevada, but that's pretty much all of my Spencer Reid knowledge." I oh-so-gracefully segue into the topic. our coffees show up on the counter and we grab them before finding an empty table towards the back of the shop. it's in both of our first instincts to seek out the corner spots.

"well, I--" he starts, but then I remember something else.

"and I'm fully aware of your IQ and plethora of degrees, so don't give me that trivia information." I tease. he's looking down at the lid of his coffee. his eyelids are the color of something slightly bruised, and he lets out a nervous laugh.

"what else is there to know?"

"everything." I grin, my elbows resting on the tabletop. it's a small surface, so much so that even leaning forward a little bit gives off an air of intimacy that makes me hesitant. "we're spending a lot of time together, so you might as well tell me about you."

"I'm really not very interesting." it's an easy way to dodge questions and I don't want to push him too hard or scare him away. I just want to be friends, and that can be kind of hard when I don't know the first thing about him.

"I'll start then, if you'd like." I propose with a smirk. he nods and swallows, the Adam's apple in his throat bobbing.

"well, I was born in Atlanta, but I grew up in Montana. my family still lives there, though. I'm a big fan of the Real Housewives of Atlanta, I'm a scorpio sun, and I hate mushrooms." I fight a smile as I list random facts about myself in an attempt to get him to relax. I'm not hoping for him to divulge his biggest life traumas; there's no pressure.

it works. his high cheekbones poke out a little as he hides a smile behind his drink. my eyebrow quirks at his reaction.

"okay, now you have to go!" I prod. he puts his coffee down, though he fidgets with the sleeve on the cup.

"I guess I'm technically a Scorpio, too." he concedes.

"what? no." I almost laugh at the prospect. at first take, he doesn't really align.

"yes."

"what's your moon sign?" I narrow my eyes.

"I'm not sure, actually." this seems to frustrate him almost as much as it surprises me.

"you'll need to find that out if you want to understand your chart better." I shrug, leaning back in my seat. he fixes his gaze on my face as he tries to read the seriousness of my words. I'm only partly joking.

"what's your problem with mushrooms?" he asks instead, prompting my eyes to widen.

"don't get me started!" this time, I lean my elbows on the table. "I just don't like the thought of eating a fungus. and the texture--"

"what about milk, though?" he asks suddenly. I pause, mouth still open as I think on this.

"what about it?"

"is it weird to you that people drink cow milk in the same way that it's weird to eat fungi?"

"I suppose not." my brows draw together.

"lots of things humans do are 'weird'." he puts the word in air-quotes and it brings a smile to my lips.

"you're opinionated, aren't you?" I tilt my head a bit. this side of Spencer is new to me.

"mushrooms are rich in various nutrients and have been consistently used across time and cultures for medicinal purposes-- not to mention the burgeoning therapy treatments now in development with micro-dosing psilocybin." he replies. I giggle.

"big on shrooms?"

"what? no, I--" he gets a little flustered, shifting his sitting position and getting a rosy tint to his cheeks.

"I'm just joking, Reid." I set my palm flat against the table, something of a truce between us. he runs a hand through his hair. I move on. "I think the psilocybin research is actually really fascinating."

"isn't it?" Spencer's features appear somewhat ghostly under the café lights. he's got a sort of unusual face, although that isn't a bad thing at all. it's interesting.

he begins to talk about depression treatments that are being developed from shrooms, gesticulating wildly. his watch glints on his sleeve as he speaks. I notice the pretty arch of his eyebrows and the way he speaks through a grin. his voice has got a soothing quality to it, each word an individually selected puzzle piece. it's clear, low, and a bit filled with a childlike passion.

I rest my chin on my palm as he rambles, occasionally drinking my coffee and adding in my own thoughts. I think that Spencer could go for days if I let him, that he could talk enough to fill the pages of those books on the wall.

I'm not sure how long we sit in the café-- it could be an hour or three. we jump from medicine to philosophy to his obsession with Medieval literature. this, being something I know almost nothing about, intrigues me.

"my mom was actually a professor of it, so she read a lot of those books to me as a kid." he tells me, not even stumbling over the word was. either she died when he was young or she isn't dead at all-- there is no loss in the weight of this fact. I don't ask about it, but I pocket the piece away for later.

"explains the chivalry." I joke. he frowns.

"sorry?"

"your manners."

"oh," he blushes slightly. "she's always romanticized it, I think."

the change in tense tells me she must not have passed. I run my fingertip over the rim of my drink.

"does she live back in Vegas?" I hope it isn't too invasive.

"yeah, she does," his eyes flit between the tabletop and my face. "she, um, lives in a sanitarium."

his willingness to confide this almost takes me visibly aback. he seemed so hesitant to share personal details earlier this evening; something in my chest warms.

"oh," my voice is thick in my throat. I don't know what to say. "I'm sorry."

"it's fine." it's not, but I get not wanting to dive into it.

my intentions really weren't to prod at something that obviously is close to his heart, so I sit a bit straighter in my seat and look around the shop. we're the last people here, the only other sounds from the two baristas and the whir of machinery.

"are you-- do you wanna head out?" I ask. part of me feels no desire to leave. we probably should. it's getting late and I never know how much sleep I'm going to get. the hours for this job aren't steady by any definition of the word.

"sure."

when my head turns back from peering around the café, he's staring at me. I smile, stand up and push my chair in. he follows, both of us throwing our empty cups away before heading out.

it's much colder. a slight shudder runs through my body as we step into the night. involuntary, but Spencer falters a moment on the pavement.

"uh," he clumsily shrugs off his cardigan. "sorry." hands the thing to me.

my cheeks flush in surprise. his awkwardness is contagious, apparently.

nevertheless, I wrap the thing around my shoulders and feel a little better. it's warm. we keep walking in silence back to the car, my head now filling with thoughts that I can't quite sift through.

he's a very nice boy. I start to feel grateful that my craving for caffeine has given me the opportunity to get to know him better. when I glance at him for a second, his head ducking beneath a low-hanging branch of one of the sidewalk trees, he catches me and offers a ghost of a smile.

baby spencer is such a sub I literally can't--

#spencer reid #matthew gray gubler #dr. reid #criminal minds #mgg #fanfic #fanfiction #wattpad #friends to lovers #BAU #slow burn

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mashiraostail · 4 years

Note

if you're still open to requests.. can I have some Present Mic with an S/O who loves nature? like she enjoys gardening, hiking in the woods, tree climbing, and all that stuff so she wants to take Mic on a nature walk with her one day because she really wants to be able to do one of her favorite activities together? bonus points if she doesn't know about his fear of bugs and straight up introduces him to one as if it was a cute stray kitten or something (>w>) thank you!

omg this is funny i don’t hate bugs I used to watch monster bug wars all the time so I pulled some knowledge from those days its pretty good honestly maybe ill watch again. anyways i hope you enjoy! under the cut tw:bug mention

Hizashi doesn’t hate the outdoors or anything, that’s really not it. He’s happy to entertain you on hikes, he doesn’t mind surmounting mountain trails with you, rock climbing is a breeze, even just early morning jogs outside are actually pretty enjoyable for him, especially when he’s with you. So he does it all with no complaint, you entertain him all the time with concerts and clubs and music documentaries, so he’s more than content to do things you enjoy as well, he likes getting to know you through the activities, plus it’s an added workout which a pro hero like him can always use, and he relishes seeing your happy face when you happen upon an especially climbable tree or see some wildlife. He doesn’t complain when you drag him out of bed at 6:30 on a Sunday for a hike. If he’s being honest your excitement actually rubbed off on him, you’d been looking into this trail for a few weeks now, something about flora and fauna and biodiversity, it’s not that it was too complex for him to understand or anything, he’s a smart guy, but the excitement in your tone and the way you bubbled up with it when you spoke distracted him. He doesn’t mind the long commute to get there either, it’s nice to feel you take his hand as you sit beside him, between the pair of you there’s always something fun to talk about. The difficulty of the trail doesn’t bother him, the rocks and uneven ground aren’t anything he can’t handle, he’s in pretty good shape and he’s happy to show off. However. There is one thing he dislikes about all this. Look, it’s not irrational. It’s not that he can’t stand the sight of a bug, the centipede crawling up a tree trunk a few feet away, well it is pretty gross if you ask him, doesn’t make him scream, in fact, he’ll barely give it a second glance. As long as bugs stay where bugs belong (off of him) then he’s fine, You’ve been crouched down too long. That should have been a red flag, he knows this now, but everything is clearer in hindsight. “Zashi! Check it out!” You sping up, cradling something in a delicate hand. “Hm?” He hums and turns away from the view, “find something?” “Yeah it’s really cool! I’ve never seen one this big!” He’s expecting a rock, some sort of fancy colored rock that you would somehow know the exact name of. That is not what he gets. “Isn’t this gorgeous? I’ve never seen one like it!” Lime green and bug-eyed, and absolutely fucking huge. A praying mantis. He wills himself to stay calm. “Babe that’s so...” fucking disgusting. “Interesting..woow..” You can hear his voice wavering. “Do you wanna hold her?” “H-her-” Oh he’s gonna be sick. “yeah it’s a female! I think.” You nod, “so do you wanna?” “N-no I think she likes you so she can stay with you okay-” He coughs nervously. “Amazing right? I didn’t expect to find any this time of year...” You murmur holding it close to your face and inspecting it. “Y-y-yeah that’s...babe that’s-” He leans away, “honestly kind of scary looking-” “They are pretty scary!” You agree, “well not to me, but they do cannibalize each other. On occasion.” “O-o-oh really?” He nods, nervousness seeping out of every pore. “It’s not as common as you’d think, but they do it. I guess when it suits them.” That thing was looking right at him, right into his soul, it could probably smell it on him, the fear, the anxiety, it was downright terror at this point. “That’s...that’s sort of disgusting babe.” You perk up at that, “are you afraid of them?” “I mean.” Hizashi starts then snaps his mouth shut, “I don’t...enjoy them. THey’re gross, you can’t even deny that they’re kind of gross and how the hell does you even tell which one is a girl and which one isn’t! They look the same!” “Yeah you can tell by the segments down here see-” It’s moving. Jumping, from your hand to his shirt. The minute the thing moves he’s screaming, but when it lands on him there’s silence. He freezes. “Hizashi she’s-” “I know.” He grits. “Don’t kill her!” You shout as his arm lifts to frantically swat the bug away. He clenches his fist to stop himself. “Then get it off of me before I have a nervous break.” “I am, I am, just stay still okay? It’d suck if she jumped up to your face or something.” The noise he makes at that is indescribable, you can practically feel your eardrums vibrate at the pitch. “Alright see.” You hold her away from him, “alright little lady, go back to it.” You crouch down and it hops onto the ground. “You should have told me you were afraid sooner!” You laugh a little, “I would have just taken a photo to show you instead of getting so close!” At least the color was coming back to his face. “I wasn’t worried about it, I didn’t think you’d pick it up!” He defends, “and either way I didn't wanna ruin your fun.” “Aw, Zashi.” You dust off his shirt where the bug had been, “you’re sweet. You wouldn’t have ruined my fun. I’d just take a picture or something instead!” You grin at him. “Yeah, that’s true.” He chuckles a little himself, “I just wanted to be sure you had a good time, you were really excited about this.” “Trust me Zash, I’m having a really good time now.”

#tw bug mention #hizashi yamada x reader #present mic x reader #bnha x reader #bnha request

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vintagedolan · 4 years

Text

no service (gbd)

the boys do their first no tech challenge since you and grayson get together, and though they make it, something goes terribly wrong at home

word count: 5k

warnings/tags: angst, worried!grayson, hurt!y/n

feel free to send in requests! i’ll write most things! hope you enjoy :)

Your POV:

“I dunno, I just have a weird feeling about this one.” Grayson’s fingers were twisting and untwisting the hem of your shirt, his nerves evident as you laid next to him in bed.

“Gray you’re gonna be fine, it’s just like before. You’ve got the van, and you’ve done survival stuff. Everything is gonna work out. I am gonna miss you though,” you gave him a sad smile.

Since you’d started dating, you’d been attached at the hip. You still had an apartment of your own, but if you were honest you needed to just bite the bullet and sell it - you practically lived with the twins, and you wouldn’t have it any other way. But that also meant that this was going to be the first long-ish stretch that you weren’t with each other.

“It’s just 7 days baby, it’ll go by so fast.” Now he was comforting you, of course.

“You’re gonna have the best time, I can’t wait to see the video when you get home.”

“I’d send you pictures, but you know we won’t have our phones,” he sighed, running a finger along your jawline. “Not being able to see this face all week is gonna suck.”

You blushed deep red, warming his fingertips before you pulled away and crawled across the bed.

“Hey, where ya goin’?” Grayson pouted, but you ignored him for a second, going over to the dresser where you kept some of your clothes full time. You reached down, pulling out the little album that you’d been making as a gift for Grayson down the road. You pulled out one of your favorite pictures; from one of the first weeks that you’d been dating, it was the two of you with the LA skyline in the background, with you looking up at him as he smiled.

“Here, take this with you.” You handed him the photo. “I know E will probably give you shit, but just hide it somewhere. Make sure you bring it back though, that one’s my favorite.”

“I love you,” he responded, but you barely heard it, because at that exact moment Ethan was banging on the door and yelling “GRAY! C’mon it’s time to go!”

“And i’m going to kill my brother,” he groaned, reaching out and pulling you to him tightly, falling back on the bed. You landed on top of him, and his lips were on yours before you could say anything. He kissed you roughly for a minute, a bit of urgency there as he knew you weren’t going to be able to do this again for a while. Ethan knocked on the door again, and you felt Graysons arms tighten as he rolled over, putting you underneath him

“Go Gray, before he beats the door down,” you teased, pushing gently on his chest.

“I could just stay here with you,” he countered, raising an eyebrow.

“Go,” You giggled, pushing harder.

“Fine, fine,” he grumbled, kissing you again before getting up. “Alright E, I’m coming!”

You followed him to the door where Ethan was standing in the doorway.

“Finally get him to stop crying and leave?” E asked.

“Oh shut up,” you teased, pushing on his chest so you could get by. He followed you, slinging an arm around your shoulders as you headed out to the van, which you knew was already packed.

You stayed out of the shot as they filmed a little intro explaining what they were doing. Grayson was so much more excited these days in all the videos, but even more so in the ones that had to do with adventures. You watched as the locked their phones in the box they’d used before, storing it under the benches in the van.

Once the cameras cut, Gray made his way back over to you, wrapping you up in a tight hug.

“I love you. I’m gonna miss you so much,” he murmured into your hair.

“I love you too Gray. Be safe.”

“You too. Call Ricky if you need anything okay? He’ll still have his phone for emergencies.”

“I’ll see you soon.”

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

Grayson’s POV

His mind was already wandering as he continued driving down the road, already in Arizona. They were headed to Big Bend National Park, with the new challenge of not using their phones for navigation. Ethan was actually a good navigator, so once he got on the right highway it was just a matter of driving through Arizona and Texas, then down to the Mexico border to get to the park.

“I think all this footage is gonna be sick, and I’m excited to get some star shots once we get to the park,” Ethan said. Gray just nodded along, watching the road.

“You good bro? You’re off, I can feel it.”

“Yeah, I’m fine. I just have a pit in my stomach about this whole thing. It’s makin’ me anxious,” Grayson explained, fists tightening on the wheel of the van. Ricky was in the back, sound asleep.

“What about it though? Is it something specific?” Ethan asked.

“I can’t put my finger on it. I just have a weird feeling. I’m sure it’s nothing, I’m just in my head.”

“Is it Y/N?”

Sometimes, Grayson really hated sharing a mind. And this was one of those times. He stayed silent, which was enough of an answer for Ethan.

“She’s a fully capable person Gray. She’s gonna be fine without you for a few days.”

“Thanks asshole, I know. Just drop it.”

“Whatever,” Ethan shrugged, settling down into his chair a bit more, crossing his arms and getting comfy for the long trip ahead.

And a long trip it was. They made it to the park around 1am, and were amazed at what they saw. Above them was the whole milky way, clear as day.

They shot a quick clip explaining the main reason they’d come all the way to Big Bend.

“It’s a certified dark zone, which means no one is allowed to have building with lights out here. So theres no light pollution at all, it’s one of the best places in the world to see the stars,” Ethan explained. Grayson wasn’t paying too much attention; instead he was gazing up, and suddenly missing who he wanted beside him more than anything.

It was going to be a long few days.

Your POV:

The first four days were alright. You spent your time wandering around the house, enjoying all the space. You sat in Ethan’s comfy chair in the living room while you watched netflix, cuddled up in one of Grayson’s blankets from his bed that you’d dragged with you. It smelled like him, and it was comforting.

When that got boring you’d change into a swim suit, heading out to the pool - you’d given it a good cleaning, which you knew the boys would be thankful for when they got back. You were determined to get more of a tan than Gray by the end of the summer, and if you had any chance at all you needed to get a head start.

By day five, the boredom was starting to get to you. You wanted to talk to Grayson, see his face, see his smile, hear his laugh. You even resorted to going back and watching a few of your favorite videos of theirs, just to hear his voice. You felt pathetic while you did it, but you also couldn’t really bring yourself to care too much if you were honest. All throughout the day you caught yourself pulling out your phone to text him, but you knew he wouldn’t see them.

Still, you’d send a message just for fun, knowing he would see them once he got back and was allowed to have his phone. You could just imagine his face when he got back and saw all the little messages you’d left.

miss youuuuu

hey u should come home now, k thanks

I stole your favorite hoodie and you’re never getting it back oops

im gonna hide all your building stuff, that’s the level of boredom i’m at

this shit sucks

i love you

I wanna go on the next adventure :(

But as you sent the last one, it sparked an idea.

You could make your own adventure. Nothing was stopping you, and you had nothing better to do. The weather was nice, and there was supposed to be some good surf coming in.

And so, that was that. You packed up a towel, your wetsuit and some sunscreen, heading out to the car. You decided to take the Bronco, just because it had the surf rack on top. Grayson still wasn’t too keen on anyone driving his car, but he trusted you with it more than Ethan, and you knew he wouldn’t really care.

So you packed up your surfboard, struggling a bit to get it on top of the roof and strapped down - Grayson always made it look so damn easy. But you managed, finally getting in and heading to the beach. The drive was beautiful, as always, but you missed being in the passenger seat with Grayson’s hand on your thigh.

Damn. These last few days were gonna suck.

Grayson’s POV:

“I think we’re really getting the hang of this bro. I’m excited. We could do this full time, for real,” Grayson grinned, packing up a few things in the van while Ethan filled up the packs with water. Ricky was filming, so he took the opportunity to explain what was happening.

“So guys, today we’re going on the longest, and most difficult hike in Big Bend. It’s called South Rim, it’s about 14 miles total, but we’re gonna split it up and actually camp about halfway so we can get even cooler views tonight. Now, Ethan and I like to say we’re hikers, but honestly, we kinda suck.”

“Yeah, we uh, we’re not great,” Ethan chimed in.

“So this should be fun!”

“Oh yeah, great time.”

“And obviously we don’t have our phones, so we’re gonna have no idea what time it is, we won’t be able to call for help if we get, ya know, mauled by a mountain lion or something.”

“Bro, why would you say that!?” Ethan groaned.

“It’s the truth! Well, I guess Ricky has his phone though, so we’d be alright.”

“My phone hasn’t had service since we got here,” Ricky countered from behind the camera.

“Oh we are so fucked dude,” Ethan grumbled.

And in all honesty, it put a bit of a pit in Gray’s stomach, knowing he wouldn’t be able to contact anybody if something happened. But he pushed the thought from his mind, moving to help his brother pack up the tent and begin their trek.

Your POV:

The beach wasn’t too crowded, which was a blessing. When you said you liked to surf, it usually meant that you liked to catch 1 wave out of the 50 you tried for. You were a beginner, that was for sure. There were only about 20 people on the entire beach, and a few surfers out on the break, with the lifeguard keeping a close eye on them.

Even if you didn’t feel it, you looked the part in your wetsuit, board tucked under your arm. You snapped a quick picture, sending it to Grayson’s non-existent phone just for kicks.

wish you were here! you’d be laughing at how much I’m gonna suck. love you!

After it sent, you put it away in the waterproof box you’d brought. You made your way over to the lifeguard station, waving up at the man sitting atop the chair.

“Hey, I’m here by myself, do you care if I leave this box here with you?” You asked politely.

“Yeah that’s fine. Be careful out there,” he responded, not taking his eyes off the water. You put it down by the legs of the chair, jogging towards the water. The ocean was cold when it hit your skin but you adjusted quickly, diving in and heading out to the break.

And as you predicted, you missed practically every single one you tried to get up on. You hit the water over and over again, your arms sore from pushing up to standing, even if it was to no avail.

You began paddling in after about an hour, accepting defeat, when suddenly you noticed everyone beside you paddling out instead of in.

The lifeguard’s whistle came too late. By the time you turned around, the wave was already there, towering feet above any that had come prior.

And you were right in the break.

You’d read about these before. Rouge waves, you remembered. Random waves that come from nowhere, with no apparent cause. You had just enough time to suck in your breath before it crashed directly over your head.

It felt like the inside of a washing machine looked - that was the only way you could describe it. And then you felt something warm on your head, and everything went black.

Grayson’s POV:

It was the morning of day six, and Grayson had never been more ready to get home. The pit in his stomach was a rock now, and he had no explanation for it at all.

“Bro we’re actually disgusting. Like we need a real shower somewhere, or we’re never gonna get the smell out of this van,” Ethan said. And he was right. After all the hiking and sleeping in the tent, the three of them reeked.

“We could do a gas station shower, we just gotta map our way there without our phones. I don’t think that breaks the rules, we just aren’t supposed to use technology,” Ricky shrugged.

“Alright sick, we might as well start driving. Gray, you okay?” E asked.

“Yeah. Just don’t feel good,” he mumbled. He kept himself curled up in the back of the van, head resting on the table as Ethan found his way out of the park and towards the nearest town.

Grayson couldn’t figure out what was bothering him so much. He wasn’t dehydrated, he hadn’t eaten anything bad. He should be having the time of his life, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was terribly wrong. It was like the time that Ethan had cut his leg open when they were kids; Grayson wasn’t near him, but he just knew. It was exactly that feeling, except Ethan was right there in front of him, perfectly fine. So he just kept his head down, hoping whatever it was would pass.

They found the gas station about 45 minutes later, and the three of them headed in eagerly. Maybe a good warm shower would clear his mind.

And once he was done, he did feel better. But only slightly. It was getting harder to breathe. He headed out, noticing that Ricky was already in the van and Ethan was waiting outside.

“Gray, dude you don’t look good. What’s wrong?”

“I think I’m getting sick man. I’ve been sick to my stomach since yesterday, and I feel like I can’t breathe now. Maybe I’ve got a really bad allergy to something out here. I’m sorry man, I’m trying to shake it so I can be up for the video, but I don’t know where it’s coming from.”

“Guys.” Ricky’s voice was serious, much more serious than normal.

“What’s up?” E asked.

“I just got service again, and I’ve got 12 missed calls, all from the same number. I don’t recognize it though. LA area code.”

“Call it. Call it now.” Grayson’s answer came before he could even think about it. He felt like he was going to hurl.

Ricky dialed it back quickly, holding the phone up to his ear. The twins climbed in the back, sitting down across from him at the table.

“This is he.” Ricky said. “Um, yeah, yeah he’s right here.”

Grayson’s blood went ice cold when Ricky held the phone out for him.

“It’s for you.”

He felt robotic and he reached out, taking the phone and putting it up to his ear.

“Hello?”

“Hi, is this Mr. Grayson Dolan?”

“Yes.”

“Hi Grayson. We’re just calling on behalf of Ms. Y/N Y/L/N from King Hospital, you’re listed as her primary emergency contact.”

“Is she alright? What happened?”

“She’s stable right now. We don’t have all of the details, she’s been in and out of consciousness. She was in an accident -”

“Accident?” Grayson’s voice cracked, and Ethan stiffened up beside him. As if it was instinct, he felt his brothers hand on his shoulder, anchoring him just enough that he could listen.

“She was out surfing at Manhattan Beach, the lifeguards said there was a rouge wave. They got her out quickly, but they think she hit her head on some rocks when she went under. She wasn’t breathing when they got to her, but she was stabilized in the ambulance. She told us to call Ricky off her phone when she was conscious because you wouldn’t have your phone. We’ve had her sedated so her brain could rest, but it looks like we’re going to need to take her in for surgery, because we found some deep lacerations on her head and want to check for anymore significant damage.”

“Surgery?” Grayson expected himself to go numb, but he almost had the opposite. He was so overwhelmed that it was crippling. “How soon?”

“As soon as we’re able. She isn’t able to give consent, so we needed to get in contact with you if possible. Are you able to get here quickly?”

“I’m - I’m not in the state, I’m in Texas.”

“Well, a telephone consent will do,” the nurse said.

“Oh. Okay, yeah. Yeah, I consent. Do what you need to, please just be careful.” It was dumb thing to say, he knew that, but he couldn’t help himself.

“Thank you Mr. Dolan, we will. And we’ll keep you updated. Should we call at this number, or the one you have listed?”

“The one I have listed is fine, I have it now.”

Ethan knew exactly what that meant and was immediately scrambling to find the box with their phones while Ricky got the key ready off his keychain.

“Alright, speak soon Mr. Dolan.”

And with that she hung up the phone.

“I’m gonna be sick,” were the only words that Grayson could manage as he crawled to the back of the van and hurled over the bumper. Ethan followed him, holding onto his shoulders and trying to stabilize him so he didn’t fall out.

“What do we need to do Gray?”

“Drive. We need to get home, now.”

Without further questions, Ricky climbed into the drivers seat as they closed up the back of the van, immediately heading in the direction of California.

When Gray finally managed to get enough air in his lungs, he was able to look up at Ethan, who was sitting opposite of him.

“Y/N’s hurt. I think it’s pretty bad.”

“Tell me what happened.”

And so he did, to the best of his ability. He didn’t have very much information, which was the hard part. But he told his brother everything that the nurse did.

“Well, if she was with it enough to give them Ricky’s number instead of yours, that’s good. That means she was alright when they got her in the ambulance.”

“Right. I wonder if she tried to call me.” The thought made his stomach tighten.

“Your phone was dead, it’s charging up front right now. Either way, we’re headed back as quick as we can.”

Grayson noted that the van was moving quite quickly - Ricky was definitely speeding, but he didn’t care.

“E.”

“I know Gray. I’m scared too. But she’s gonna be alright. She has to be.”

She’s gonna be alright

He repeated the words over and over again in his head, sometimes mumbling them aloud. A few minutes later, his phone was charged. Ethan climbed to the front to get it. Without having to ask, Ethan knew that Grayson wanted him to screen his texts, just to see. And he could tell there were texts from her just by his face.

“E. If she text me about all this and I didn’t answer, I’m gonna lose my fucking mind.”

“She wouldn’t have been able to, she didn’t take her phone in the water. These are all from before.”

He held out his hand.

Looking at the texts was his undoing. He could hear her voice, clear as day in his head as he read them, making it all the much harder. He began to sob, uncontrollable ragged sounds. Ethan put an arm around his shoulder in silent support, as he often did. And Ricky continued down the road.

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

It was the longest 15 hours of his life. They’d checked to make sure it wasn’t quicker to stop in Phoenix and put Grayson on a flight - driving straight through was faster. But god it felt like it was taking years. He held the picture he had of him and Y/N in his hand, but he couldn’t look at it for too long without losing it.

Ethan was driving now, with Grayson in the passenger seat - he hadn’t been forced to take a turn, everyone knew he was in no shape to drive.

Everyone in the car was on edge, which meant they all jumped practically to the ceiling when Grayson’s phone rang. He answered on the first ring.

“Hello?”

“Mr. Dolan?” It was a different voice this time.

“Yes.”

“Hi, this is Y/N’s surgeon, just calling with an update. Y/N is out of surgery, and she did great! No complications, and the damage seems pretty minimal, though we’ll have to see once she wakes up.”

He took his first real breath in the last 15 hours.

“That’s great news. Thank you.”

“So she’s in recovery right now, but she’s gonna be unconscious for the next 30 minutes or so. Should we be expecting you?”

“Yeah, yeah I’m headed there right now, I should be there in about 25 minutes according to my GPS.”

“Alright perfect. Well, she’s in room 828 on the post op wing when you get here, just sign in at the desk and we’ll bring you up. We’ll take good care of her.”

“Thank you so much doctor.”

“She’s alright. Out of surgery, should be waking up soon,” he explained as soon as he hung up. The relief was obvious, especially for Ethan. Gray had been so caught up in his own worry that he’d forgotten how worried Ethan must be - Y/N was practically his sister. Grayson watched as his brother pressed just a tiny bit more on the gas, racing towards the hospital.

When they arrived, Grayson couldn’t get out of the van fast enough. He bolted for the entrance, with Ethan in tow. Ricky stayed in the car out of privacy, offering to get them anything they needed.

They went through the motions of check in - something they were all too familiar with - and Grayson followed the nurse up to the post op floor, where he was transferred over to the nurse that had initially called him.

“She’s starting to stir just a bit. Just to prepare you, we aren’t sure how confused she’s going to be when she wakes up. With the mixture of anesthesia and her concussion, she may be very out of it. Just be patient with her, she should come around to her normal self within the next few hours. She’s right through here.” The nurse stopped outside the door, opening the door with a gentle push.

“You wanna go alone, or do you want me with you?” Ethan asked, hesitating.

“With me.” He didn’t have to think about it.

Grayson went in first, and if Ethan hadn’t been behind him, he probably would have fallen to his knees. Y/N was in the hospital bed, gown over her still form, her head partially wrapped in gauze. She had oxygen tubes in her nose and was breathing deeply, laying flat on her back, eyes closed. Just the image of her in the whole hospital garb was enough to bring tears to his eyes. He hated it more than he could have imagined.

Once he was stable enough on his feet, Grayson headed to her bedside. As he got closer, she started to stir a bit, fingers twitching as he sat down as gently as he could on the side of her bed. It was as if she knew he was there already, even though he hadn’t said a word or touched her at all.

“Mmmmmm.” She started to make a noise, her dry lips parting.

“Baby?” Grayson leaned forward, taking her hand in his, careful not to move her IV.

“Mmm- mad.” She mumbled, eyes still closed.

“Mad?” He looked back at Ethan for clarification, but he just nodded. Grayson raised a hand up to cup her cheek, and she smiled, resting her head in his palm. He revealed in the feeling, taking it in.

“Bronco.” This time, her word was clear, though it didn’t make anymore sense.

“Baby. Y/N, can you open your eyes sweetheart?” Grayson coaxed, rubbing his thumb along her cheekbone.

“Tryin’. It’s heavy,” she said, scrunching her eyebrows. He could tell she was really doing her best, which made his heart squeeze a bit tighter. When she finally managed to lift her eyelids, he could tell she was exhausted.

“You’s gonna be mad at me,” was the first sentence she managed to string together, though all her words were drawn out and slightly garbled.

“Why would I be mad at you baby?”

“I drove the bronco, left it at the beach. Probs some homeless guy living in it,” she said, resting all the weight of her head onto his hand.

“It’s okay. I really couldn’t care less about the car right now.”

“Don’t say that, Ethan will be big sad.” She gasped then, sitting upright a little more. “Ethan! Hi buddy!” She had just noticed him at the end of the bed. She blinked hard, like she was trying to bring him into focus.

“Hey girly, how yah feelin?”

“Got a cracked skull, but i’ms okay. But guess what?”

“What?” He asked.

“Still smarter than youuuuu,” she shrugged, and Grayson couldn’t help but let out a laugh.

She really was back to normal.

“You want me to go get the car?” Ethan asked, sitting on the opposite side of her bed and for once, choosing not to throw a comeback. He really had been worried.

“I don’t have keys. Or my phone. I left em with the lifeguard,” she pouted, her lip curling down. If it wasn’t so pitiful, he would have found it adorable.

“It’s okay, we’ll figure it out. Don’t worry about it,” Grayson reassured her, leaning forward to press a kiss to her forehead.

The nurse came in then to check on her. Ethan moved out of her way, and Grayson was about to move away, but Y/N grabbed his hand, using all her strength to hold him there.

“Don’t go,” she whimpered, and he swore he could feel a piece of his heart crack.

“I’m right here, just getting out of the nurses way,” he promised, kissing her hand and standing next to the bed.

“You guys are fine, I’ll let you know if you’re somewhere I need to be,” the nurse smiled. “How’re you feeling Y/N?”

“Sore, but okay.”

“Well, you’re a trooper. I’ve never seen anyone come out of anesthesia so clear headed before. Now, you might get confused in a little while, but that’s just the concussion, and it’ll pass, okay? Just gotta give it time. You just rest and give your body some time to heal. You should be ready to rock and roll out of here in the next few days, okay?”

“M’kay. Is my phone lost forever?” She asked.

“Actually the lifeguard that pulled you out dropped off your box with your things earlier. It’s over there with your other belongings.”

Grayson made a mental note to find that guy and thank him profusely in the future. Ethan went over to the personal items bag, bringing it over to the bed. Y/N started to rummage through it, pulling things out one by one.

When she got her wetsuit out - which took some effort - she frowned, running her finger over the new cut that Grayson assumed was made by the paramedics. He tried as hard as he could to not picture what the ambulance looked like when that cut was made.

“They cut it,” she pouted. “That was my favorite one.”

“I’ll buy you a new one,” Grayson reassured her.

“M’kay,” she mumbled, satisfied. She cuddled down a little bit into her pillow, obviously exhausted. Grayson continued going through the bag, getting the keys and her phone out of the box.

“I’m gonna get the car before it gets towed. Give you all a minute,” Ethan said quietly, having a hand out for the keys.

“Thanks bro. I’ll keep you updated.”

He was extremely grateful, but he couldn’t find the words. He hoped Ethan knew.

“Gray,” Y/N said quietly.

“Hey baby, I’m right here.”

“M’tired,” she murmured, holding a hand out. “Can we sleep?”

“You can sleep sweetheart,” Grayson reassured her.

“C’mere. Come up here,” she said, patting the bed next to her.

Grayson obliged, sliding his arms under her knees and behind her back, scooting her over just enough so that he could slide into the bed beside her.

“Much better. I missed you. Maybe don’t go for so long next time,” she said, curling up against him and getting as close as she could.

“Don’t worry. I’m not leaving you for a long, long time.”

“Sounds good to me,” she mumbled, but she was already falling asleep before the end of the sentence. So Grayson held her close to him, relishing in the feeling and lulling off to sleep.

#I really love this #I watched too many of their survival videos haha #lynds writes #grayson imagine #grayson imagines #grayson dolan #dolan twins #grayson dolan imagine #grayson dolan x reader #dolan twin imagines #ethan dolan

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artificialqueens · 3 years

Text

Tree House Kisses, Chapter 43 (Adorney) - Scorpio and Veronica

A/N: Click here for previous chapters here on AQ or here if you’d rather read on AO3. xoxo!

And thank you again to our wonderful betas: @saiphl, @sillylittlecandycane

Chapter Summary: It’s finally the night of senior prom!! It starts out great...but will it end in disaster? (Spoiler alert: yes)

Chapter 43: I Just Wanna Dance

There were a million things Courtney loved about being in the The Scarlet Pimpernel--finally getting a chance to play a lead role in a musical, the songs themselves, the beautiful costumes they’d borrowed from a nearby university’s theatre company, the warm encouragement from Mrs. Maguire, watching her friends and castmates shine, when her dad surprised her by showing up for one of the weekend shows with a bouquet of pink roses…

But her favorite thing of all was being onstage with Adore. It was the first time they’d had multiple scenes together since playing Annie and Miss Hannigan in 5th grade, and for Courtney, it made the experience a million times better.

Closing night was bittersweet. In some ways, Courtney wished that it would never end. But she was excited for prom and graduation, their Mexico road trip and their first apartment. So even though it was a little bit sad, she didn’t cling to it. Instead, she focused on the excitement she felt about everything to come, and really tried to live in the moment, committing every single second to memory.

In the garden scene with Adore, she noticed the little wisps of hair around her face that were lit up by the bright stage lights, the way her hazel eyes gleamed, and when she leaned toward her, it was the closest they’d ever come to actually kissing in this scene. All Courtney wanted was to surrender, to just close her eyes, let their lips touch, but she fought it, finally pushing Adore away like she was supposed to at the last possible second, heart pounding, feeling a bit light-headed while she watched her sing. Really listening to the lyrics for what felt like the first time.

“Marguerite, don't forget I know who you are. We were cut from the same surly star, like two jewels in the sky, sharing fire. Where's the girl, so alive and still aching for more? We had dreams that were worth dying for. We were caught in the eye of a storm! Come again!”

Adore grabbed her hands, spinning her in a circle, and a lump formed in Courtney’s throat.

“Let the girl in your heart tumble free. Bring your renegade heart home to me. In the dark of the morning, I'll warm you, I'll rouse you . . .”

As they slowly stopped turning in a circle, Courtney swallowed hard, the dizziness getting to her, stomach in knots, and it was if Adore could sense it. She pulled her in by the waist, singing the last verse softly, directly to her. And something happened for the first time that Courtney couldn’t explain--a single tear began to slip down her cheek.

“Where's the girl? Is she gazing at me with surprise? Do I still see that blaze in her eyes? Am I dreaming or is she beside me . . . now . . .?”

The music slowly faded out, and Courtney knew that Adore was waiting for her next line, her eyes soft and expectant. She knew that she had to get it out; this was the script, and she couldn’t change it no matter how much she wanted to. So she mustered up all of her strength, squaring her shoulders and speaking, firmly and hoarsely.

“No. Get out.”

Adore’s eyes went cold as she turned and left the stage, and for a second Courtney really did think that she was going to fall, to faint or throw up or something else entirely unexpected. She knew she only had about three seconds before Willam and Gia entered, so she quickly swiped the tear from her cheek and took a deep breath, pushing down the terrible feeling that something had broken inside of her, something she wouldn’t ever be able to fix.

“Hey…”

Courtney whirled around as Adore touched her shoulder, a startled look on her face that softened when she saw Adore.

“Oh, hi.”

“Are you alright?” Adore asked. She’d noticed the tears while they were onstage, and had a feeling that it was more than just acting.

“Yeah, sorry, it’s...I guess just that this is the last time we’re gonna be doing the show. Kinda silly.” She wiped her eyes, looking a bit embarrassed.

Adore smiled softly, pulling her in for a hug. “Nah, I know how you feel.”

Courtney squeezed her back tightly. “Thanks, Dory. I love you.”

“Me too, babe.”

“You girls are just so gorgeous and grown-up,” Bonnie said, sniffling a little as she snapped photo after photo.

It was finally the night of their senior prom, and as a treat, Bonnie and Karen had gotten together and treated the girls to a little spa day: mani pedis - the fancy kind with paraffin wax and massages and rhinestone embellishments, lunch at their favorite café, and professional hair styling. Courtney had gone for a glamorous updo studded with tiny red roses, Adore for a half-up style with criss-crossing fishtail braids, and Tati for smooth finger-waves that made her look like an old-time movie star. Afterwards, they’d all headed back to Adore’s house to do their makeup and get dressed.

To Adore’s relief, Courtney hadn’t brought up her weird objections to Tati being her date, and she was friendly as can be to Tati just like usual, gossiping about their classmates, giggling, having a grand old time.

Adore was very pleased with the outfit she’d ended up with: an amazing thrift store find, a short, square-necked black lace dress, very bruja, and she’d paired it with studded black boots, fishnets, and the leather choker that Courtney’d gotten her for her birthday last year. Tati looked amazing as always, her skin-tight hot pink minidress really pushing the dress code limits, but the color so fun that she’d probably be fine.

And then there was Courtney. Adore was surprised when she’d chosen it, the sleek white two-piece so unlike her: no sparkly embellishments or flouncy girliness--just a simple, spaghetti-strapped, open-backed top and long slitted skirt that made her early summer tan glow. When she first put it on, Adore had to look away for a moment, so as not to get choked up about how beautiful she was. Then of course, she completed the look with sparkly silver star accessories, red stones in her necklace matching the roses in her hair. Before they’d headed downstairs for photos, Adore gestured to her charm bracelet, the rose-gold obviously not fitting the color theme of her ensemble.

“That doesn’t really match,” she noted, and Courtney bit her lip, meeting Adore’s eyes with a look that made her insides twist.

“I don’t care.”

Now, in Courtney’s backyard, they posed for the dozens of pictures that Karen and Bonnie insisted on. First all the girls separately, then together, then Adore and Tati, who were still posing when Roy finally rounded the corner in his white tux. The second Adore caught sight of his red pocket square she burst out laughing, unable to help herself.

“Thanks, Delano, exactly the reaction I was hoping for,” he said.

“No, it’s cause your pocket square is...Courtney, I fucking knew that you’d do that shit again!” Adore laughed, and Courtney just shrugged, accepting first a kiss on the cheek and then the wrist corsage with the requested red roses.

“I never denied it!” Courtney said. She reached out and adjusted Roy’s lapels, grinning. “I think he looks perfect.”

“Thank you, babe, and you’re beautiful,” Roy said, before ruining the moment by turning and blowing a raspberry in Adore’s direction.

“That’s mature.”

“Adore, please pull it together for two more shots!” Bonnie interrupted, and Adore put her arm back around Tati’s waist.

Courtney and Roy were next, followed by group shots, and then Karen insisted on a couple with Courtney and Adore.

Adore swallowed, letting Courtney take her hand and lean a head on her shoulder, feeling slightly awkward.

“It’s kind of funny, don’t you think?” Courtney asked, between shots.

“What?”

Courtney gestured to their outfits. “Black and white.”

“Oh yeah. Very fitting, huh?” Adore said.

Courtney gazed up at her, a starry-eyed smile on her face, and Adore could feel herself melting right back to the place she’d insisted she’d never go again as the camera flashed.

“Mom! I wasn’t ready!”

“It was cute!” Karen defended herself.

“Do you think we should call Pearl and ask when-”

“Limo has arrived, bitcheeeeeees!” screeched a voice, and everyone turned to see Willam at the gate, along with Trinity, Pearl, Fame and Violet, who all came bounding in, dressed to the nines.

Courtney squealed happily, clapping her hands. After about ten or twenty more pictures of the whole group, Bonnie and Karen finally dismissed them, letting them pile into the limo, laughing and screaming happily, music blasting.

Adore was the last one to go, turning to give her mother one last little wave, pretending not to notice the tears shining in her eyes as she called, “Bye Ma! Don’t wait up!”

The hotel ballroom where their prom was held was the fanciest place Adore had ever been. After looking up at the huge crystal chandelier over the dance floor, Adore turned to Tati with a look of confusion and asked, “Oh my god...is our school bougie?”

Tati laughed, pulling her onto the dance floor with the rest of their group. The DJ was surprisingly good, and they twirled and laughed, dancing for hours before Tati finally admitted that her feet were killing her and she needed a break.

“Ugh, same,” said Pearl.

“This is why you wusses should have worn more comfortable shoes,” Adore proclaimed, modeling her combat boots as they trooped over to grab some punch and sit down.

“Not everyone can pull that off, dear,” Tati told her.

“Or you can just do what Trinity did,” Pearl said, gesturing to her prom date, platform sandals kicked off to the side of the dance floor, her bright yellow dress hiked up with her hands as she, Courtney and Willam shook it to Shakira’s ‘Hips Don’t Lie,’ Roy awkwardly joining in with decidedly less enthusiasm than the others.

“Still think my solution’s better,” said Adore, settling down at the table with a glass of sugary punch.

They relaxed for a few minutes, chatting and giggling, before they were joined by first Violet, then Fame, then Bob, who came bounding over with April to hype up the afterparty.

“You guys are going, right? It’s gonna be amazing!” he exclaimed, and Violet shook her head in disbelief.

“You really think a school-sanctioned afterparty will be that much fun?” she asked.

“I’m telling you! Everyone says it’s the best part of the night.”

“Really? I would think the best part of the night is how sexy your girlfriend looks,” said Pearl, sending a wink in April’s direction, making her giggle and preen.

“Okay, yes, she does, but also...after the afterparty, there’s a pancake breakfast. So, come on...”

“Robert! Hello young man! Lookin’ slick!” Roy called, walking over to give Bob a hug and slap on the back. He looked a bit sweaty and disheveled, and it made Adore chuckle.

“Courtney’s giving you a real workout, huh?” she teased.

“That girl wouldn’t leave a dance floor if you paid her,” Roy answered with a sigh, dragging a chair over from a nearby table to sit heavily. “Luckily, Willam and Trinity have much higher endurance than me, so-”

“Guess again!” Trinity exclaimed, as she flopped into Pearl’s lap. “I’m fucking exhausted.”

“Aww, you guys all abandoned the blue-eyed devils,” Bob said, gesturing to Courtney and Willam on the dance floor, making April crack up.

“They’re fine,” Roy said, leaning back in the chair, eyes closing.

Adore looked over at the dance floor, watching them while everyone chatted. When the song ended, to her surprise, Courtney made her way over to the group too.

“Whoa, maybe she’s actually tired! Did someone slip you some Benadryl, Court?”

Turned out, she was only there to ask Adore to come back onto the dance floor.

“Will you come dance with me?” she cajoled, reaching out her hand, a soft and hopeful look in her eyes.

“Uh…” Adore knew this was a bad idea. As much as she tried not to, told herself not to, she’d already spent too much of the evening with one eye on Courtney with Roy, fixated on the way they laughed and flirted and touched each other--it was like regressing two years, and she just wasn’t in the right headspace to confront her feelings.

“Please?” Courtney touched Adore’s lace-covered wrist, adding with a twinkle, “I’ll be your best friend...”

Adore had to chuckle at that, standing up with a resigned sigh. “Good one, bitch.”

Courtney beamed at her, leading her to the dance floor. Of course, it was some slow, schmaltzy pop ballad. And of course, Courtney’s arms immediately went around her neck, pulling her close. Head resting on her shoulder.

Adore didn’t know where to put her hands. Courtney’s skimpy top left so much of her back exposed, she could feel herself panicking before finally letting them settle on her hips. Even then, it was impossible to avoid her waist, her thumbs grazing the soft bare skin a few times before she tried tucking them into her palms.

“I love you, Dory,” Courtney murmured, and Adore gulped.

“Love you too.”

Adore tried to get her heart to settle, tried to stop the churning in her stomach, the song dragging on for what felt like an eternity while she sweated and held back her tears. When it finally ended, she broke away immediately, mumbling about how she needed a cigarette, and bolted from the dance floor.

Courtney watched Adore go, misty-eyed, wondering why she always ran away just when it felt like they were getting closer, and couldn’t help the dejected feeling inside, stomach twisting with regret.

“Punch?”

Courtney turned around to see Roy, holding out a cup of red punch for her. Of course he was. He was always there: dependent, steadfast, the one person in her life that she could always count on. The guilt Courtney felt would be crushing if she didn’t love him so much.

She slid her arms around his waist, pulling him close, asking, “How did I end up with the best boyfriend in the world?”

Roy sighed, setting the cup on a nearby table and wrapping her into a hug, resting his chin on top of her head.

“Just lucky, I guess.” After a few moments, he ventured softly, “Do you wanna dance some more?”

“Yes,” Courtney said, arms tightening around him even more. “Yes, I really fucking do.”

“There you are…” Tati said, when she finally found Adore in the hotel courtyard, sitting against a stucco wall, smoking a cigarette. “You alright?”

She settled in beside her, maneuvering the best she could so as not to let her dress ride up around her hips. This didn’t feel like a conversation where it would be productive to have her underwear showing.

“Just fucking peachy.” Adore took a long drag.

“Yeah. Listen, I-”

“I really don’t want any advice right now,” Adore said, and Tati immediately closed her mouth.

“Ooookay,” she breathed, realizing that now wasn’t the right time to say what she had to say.

“Sorry. It’s just, my head is all-”

“Nah, I get it.” Tati patted her fishnet-covered thigh.

“Thanks.”

They sat in silence for a few moments, Adore’s head leaning back on the wall, Tati watching the smoke curling up into the midnight sky.

“Can I ask you a question, though?”

“I guess.” Adore’s voice was tired and hoarse, so Tati tried to phrase it as gently and tactfully as possible.

“What’s the worst thing that could happen? If you, like, told her?”

Adore took a long drag of her cigarette, pondering the answer before saying, “I could die. I could literally die.”

“Alright.” Tati said, stretching her legs out in front of her. She wasn’t inclined to push it, adding a simple, “Just seems like something to think about.”

After a few more moments of tense silence, Adore sniffled, and Tati realized that she was crying.

“I should get out of here,” she said, stabbing the cigarette out on the pavement, using her lacy sleeve to wipe her eyes.

“Do you want me to go with you?”

“No. It’s prom. Stay and have fun,” Adore said, and Tati was overcome with sympathy, wished there was something she could do to make her feel better--or at least, enough better to have a carefree and fun night like they all deserved. It had started out so well, and Tati still wasn’t sure where it’d gone wrong.

“Adore, come on, you can-”

“I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

“Okay,” Tati said, staying on the ground while Adore got up, resigned to just let her have her feelings, realizing that there really was nothing she could do in that moment.

“Yeah, I know! There’s just something off about his face!” Violet laughed, following Trinity out of the bathroom, still talking about an idiot jock who’d tried to feel her up on the dance floor.

“I think it would be an okay face if he wasn't such a jerk,” Trinity said.

“Okay face is probably the best he can hope for,” Violet agreed. “But don’t you think he-”

Violet stopped short, abdomen twisting when she spotted Fame, in the same location they’d left her outside the restrooms, looking beautiful as ever in her full, floor-length gown covered in a large-scale blue flower print. Only she wasn’t alone. There was a blonde girl chatting with her...a blonde girl in a short, sparkly pink dress who was acting awfully familiar, a hand on Fame’s bare upper arm, flashing a bright white smile.

“Who the hell are you?” Violet asked, and the girl turned to her, blinking her brown eyes slowly.

“Excuse me?”

“I said-” Violet began, but Fame jumped in.

“You know what? We should talk later,” she told the girl, mouthing ‘sorry’ in an annoyingly obvious way, clearly not caring that Violet could see her. Or maybe doing it specifically for Violet’s benefit. Violet’s nails dug into her palms at the thought.

“Alright. Later then. Can’t wait to hang out again,” the girl said, leaning forward and pressing a kiss to Fame’s cheek before sauntering away with a victorious smirk.

“Who the fuck was that?” Violet asked, and Fame turned to her with crossed arms and a crosser expression.

“Hey, I think I hear...something...uh…” Trinity stammered out, backing away so as not to get caught up in the drama, calling out to an imaginary person, “What? Oh, you need-okay, coming!”

She turned and ran back towards the ballroom, leaving Fame and Violet alone.

“Well?” Violet asked, her tone still hostile, but how else was she supposed to be right now?

Fame let out a long sigh, asking, “Why are you so difficult?” She began to walk away, but Violet reached for her, fingers closing around her wrist and tugging her back.

“Fame. Who was that?”

“She’s just a girl I know from working at the bakery,” Fame said, eyes closing as if the conversation was too exhausting for words. “She graduated last year, but I guess she’s here with a friend, so-”

“No. I mean, why were you flirting with her? I thought tonight was about us.”

“Vi…” Fame finally looked into her eyes, blue eyes a bit sad, shaking her head. “Why do you always have to do this?”

“Do what?” Violet could feel herself growing more and more agitated, more and more uneasy, the ground shifting beneath her.

“Talk about us, like that. You’re my best friend. You know how much I love you. But not...not like that.”

Violet didn’t like where this conversation was going, not one bit. She bit back her anger, her impatience, her jealousy, and made her voice as soft and calm as possible.

“But you agreed to be my date. You came here with me-”

“As friends.”

“I don’t get it!” Violet exploded. “You finally broke up with Patrick, officially, and-”

“This is not about Patrick!” Fame exclaimed, exasperation all over her face. “It never was. I guess it was easy to use him as an excuse, but...I just don’t think of you that way.”

Bitterness swirled in Violet’s chest, and before she could stop herself, she spit out, “But you think of that random slut that way?” She gestured angrly in the direction of the blonde, the girl who it seemed had single-handedly managed to ruin her night. “And what did she mean by ‘again’?”

“I...we kind of...hooked up last year,” Fame admitted. “When Patrick and I were on a break, after-”

“You hooked up with a girl and you didn’t tell me? What the fuck?” Violet said, anger and confusion combining, the whole thing like hands wrapped around her throat, making her eyes water and her chest constrict.

“Well, I wasn’t sure how you’d react. I guess I was wrong, since you’re being so understanding.”

“Fuck you,” Violet spat out, turning and walking away.

“Violet, wait!”

Violet stopped walking, but she didn��t turn. She couldn’t bear to look at Fame’s face right now, not when tears were burning in her eyes, threatening to spill over any second.

“Look, I’m sorry! Okay? I guess I just...I didn’t want to say anything that would risk hurting you. Because I don’t want to lose you as a friend. I do love you-”

At that, Violet whirled back around, those angry tears streaking hotly down her cheeks.

“No you don’t,” she said. “You never have. God, I’m so stupid.”

“Vi-”

“Enjoy your prom,” she choked out, before breaking away and rushing towards the lobby. She had no idea where she was going, but she knew that she couldn’t go back into that ballroom, with those people. Not like this.

Adore trudged slowly through the parking lot, wondering where she should even go. This part of town was mostly new--lots of pointless high-end stores, yuppie restaurants, hipster bars.

“Hey! Where the fuck are you going?” demanded a voice, and Adore smiled to herself, turning around to find Violet, face streaked in tears, stomping from the hotel angrily.

Adore chuckled sadly. “You look like I feel.”

“Well you look like shit,” Violet countered.

“Okay, so I guess I look like I feel too.”

“God fucking damn it, why can’t we just have one night where we’re like, normal teenagers?” Violet exclaimed, face turned upwards, and Adore shook her head.

“I dunno.”

“Where were you going, anyway?”

“I honestly don’t know. Just...anywhere but here.”

“Same.” Violet took her hand. “I think there’s a diner a few blocks away that’ll be open. Come on.”

9 notes · View notes

izukult · 4 years

Note

This is such a cute idea! I’m addicted to making weirdly specific Spotify playlists so this is perfect. I have an ✨eclectic✨ music taste but my favorites are usually bedroom pop (mxmtoon, chloe moriondo, khai dreams, etc), romantic classical (think Debussy and Revel), and indie (although I like some Megan Thee Stallion, AC/DC, Nirvana, etc when I’m hyping myself up). As far as my personality goes, I’m pretty insightful and like to support people whenever I can, even if I don’t know them well. I can be a little chaotic sometimes, but I like to think it’s a chaotic good. I love tea, blankets, philosophy, deep conversations, the outdoors, and writing. I’m also an INFP and a Taurus :)

Sorry if that was too much, thank you so much! Take care of yourself and stay well

- Elle ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ

( @snoozless ) you don’t understand how bad i want to be your friend. 😐😐 ok so you kind of get bonus 😀 but it rly might not be bonus because akfjakdkw. so, i gave you matsukawa!! but he’s not always like revered about so if u want a character lmk!! i am. in love w him tho. you’re so sweet you would balance him out and yall would be equally chaotic together.

he would have philosophical questions w u!! he might just be a little blunt & might accidentally cut the convo short, but he would listen to everything you said.

he’s used to a wide variety of music bc i’m convinced the seijoh playlists are absolutely fucking cracked like so loud. so he really could sit there and listen to anything. and i mean ANYTHING. like if you wanted to put on christian rock he’d awkwardly try to tap his foot on beat for you.

but, that doesn’t mean he’s gonna geek over you i feel like he’d be pretty private about the relationship. he’s not like secretive but he’s not gonna post you every two seconds yknow? he wouldnt put prom photos, but if yall went to look at the stars or go on a little hike he’d take a pic and youre wearing baggy sweats and one of his shirts and your hair isnt brushed for shit and it’s way too dark to properly make your face out and he’d put that shit on his main absolutely 😒

this man would be the kind of mf to look up his “crush’s” zodiac just for shits & giggles, so if he randomly knows a taurus fact, don’t question it<3 (he looked up your compatibility and he will take that to the grave)

issei is an infp idc. so yall got that in common.

he’s genuinely so pretty.

bc i took so long, i’m going to put descriptions for all the songs i love you thanks for requesting sorry for taking forever i’ll link the playlist and list the songs<3

1. silly girl- chloe moriondo

okay while this song is actually kinda sad, i think tHIS is pretty cute. issei comes off as this intimidating guy, and the more you get to know him the more you forget ab this idea of him you had or whatever? like the lyrics “i made him perfect, cause i wanted him to be” are really prominent in the point i’m tryna make because like even tho the lyric is obviously sad bitch shit, music is up for interpretation and this is like “hello ok he actually a real mf and shiiit maybe he cool😁✊”

2. nice boys- TEMPOREX

kinda sad. i don’t care how unemotional he might act, everyone has shit that brings them down. PLUS HES A PISCES THERES NO WAY HES NOT SAD SOMETIMES. this song just really taps into insecurities for him, and the song just gets under his skin in like a very therapeutic way. also “because he’s a pisces” some of his emotions are super intense so the “because he cares too much” line hits him fuckin hard

3. IV. sweatpants- childish gambino

this is some shit he listens to more with his team, absolutely. no doubt they blare this shit during weekly practice. but, he really really likes the song. so, when you’re hanging out and he has the aux? it’s one of the first ones he puts on. you two jam to it together. he’ll come up w dumb little dances to fit with certain lyrics (stole some of them from oikawa and hanamaki, but he won’t tell you)

4. you get me so high- the neighbourhood

okay unfortunately i must say him and hanamaki get fuckin faded in empty fields at two am all trashy like. but they make it look good idc. and if you smoke, cool, if you don’t he does not care. he always associated getting high with,,, getting high and everytime he listened to this song it just was one of his getting blazed jams, but now he’s got like a different kinda “euphoric” feel with loving you? like i said this bitch is a pisces even if he doesn’t overwhelm you with affection, he thinks ab you 24/7

5. 80’s makeout session- dacelynn

thIS SONG IS SO CUTE. but it’s p self explanatory. in love and also spare a kiss pls

6. can i call you tonight- dayglow

i feel like actually coming to terms with genuine feelings for someone would be kind of weird for issei. like no offense, but he sees it as kind of a pain in the ass. i genuinely think he would be someone to put his all into work or a task in front of him. he’s super intuitive, and constantly uses it to be better. whether it’s in volleyball or like cremating ppl i guess (HE WORKS INA FUNERAL HOME POST TIME SKIP IF U DIDNT KNOW). and it’s the same in relationships, but it’s also harder because he can’t have this complete clear head because you make his brain go kinda fuzzy. so, this song is like his little way of expressing that even tho he was like ‘internally conflicted’ this mf chose to go for it and that’s how much u mean to him

7. clair de lune, L. 32- claude debussy

i’m gonna be fucking honest with you. even though he’ll listen to anything, i really don’t think this man is looking up ‘classical romance study tunes’ playlists in his free time. he definitely enjoys the music, but that’s only if someone points it out to him. and he’s listened to you talk about it before, and watched you as you heard the piano and gauged your reactions and thought u were pretty cute he’s not gonna lie😼. so he definitely just looked up classical romance and picked the first recommended song and added it on there. he’ll dance w you a lil bit, but it wouldn’t be that quiet, intimate slow dancing in the dark you think would come w this song. itd just be a little sway as he hugs you from behind while you get water, or he twirls you once randomly with a laugh UGH I LOVE HIM

8. like real people do- hozier

ok. this one was fun for me. idc. double meaning lol. so this song is literally about two dead bodies in a bog and ,,, and he works in a funeral home PLS LMAOFJAJDJA I THINK THATS SO FUCKING FUNNY AND SO DOES HE. but also this song literally is my idea of love. this is my idea of love. and yall listen to it, with your stupid little death joke, but he looks at you and he’s just like ‘oh’. yknow? YKNOW?

9. BS- still woozy

like i said, i think he puts a lot into work. and he literally plays for a powerhouse school there’s no way he doesn’t practice a lot. so that means there’s a lot of time where he’s physically not there and definitely can’t text, because he’s trying to improve. and while he wouldn’t stop volleyball for someone else, he understands that you are like super amazing for being so Cool with him not being the most available. the song just reminds him of how compassionate you are and also he does miss u when he’s at practice YKNOW?

10. i <3 u- boy pablo

this one made me so fucking soft ew. ok. this song reminds him of you so so much. he’s totally okay being vulnerable with you? and even though he has pretty heightened emotions, he’s never felt like so strongly for smth other than like ??? volleyball and caring ab his siblings (BUT HE FEELS DIFFERENT FOR U THAN HE DOES FOR A VOLLEYBALL AND HIS SIBLINGS PLEASE😁). HE LUVVVVV YOU

11. heart-shaped box- nirvana

so many reasons. for one, simply fucking JAM. yall would scream this on a drive. if you ever got drunk together, this would be the first song you play. also, little lyrics remind you of each other. (the pisces lyric in the first and third verse, and even tho the flowers aren’t being used in a sweet sense in the song he does remember talking ab flowers w u, and now any flower is mentioned and he’s like “ah yes. my girlfriend.”)

12. pluto projector- rex orange county

FUCK. FUCK THIS SONG. GOD. NO. LIKE HE REALIZES HE’S IN LOVE WITH YOU WITH THIS SONG. HE T E L L S YOU HE’S IN LOVE WITH YOU WITH THIS SONG. the first time, he just sends you the name of it like ‘pluto projector <3’ and you listen and it’s so sweet and ur like ayo turn this shit up. and he adds it to your playlist, which definitely gets a smile from you. and then one night like two weeks later youre just laying together, and he’s running his fingers through his hair and he pulls away for a second to grab his phone and he turns the song on and you just listen to it in silence and it’s so fucking intimate. and he’s just like “i don’t think i’ve ever related to a song more” and you think he’s making a joke so you tell him to shut up (also jokingly) and he just laughs and it’s dark in his room and he’s playing with your hair again and he just goes “god, if you’re telling me to shut up over that i don’t even want to imagine how you’re gonna react when i tell you i love you” and it’s right around 3:10 in the song i’m literally so gone for him. bye you cry and try to hide it but he can tell HES PERCEPTIVE

13. i wanna be yours- arctic monkeys

okay for one, it’s a good song. it’s a song he absolutely let’s play in the background, just to cover the static lol. but also? ALSO? THE TITLE APPLIES TO YOU THE FUCK? it’s as if,,, he’s whipped,,

14. supermassive black hole- muse

hanamaki prolly showed him this song, and it’s one of his vibe songs. he will do falsetto while singing it if he’s in a really good mood and it just makes everyone laugh, including himself. it actually kind of grosses him out, because this song used to literally just be a song he would aimlessly go hard to but NOW his little bitch ass is like “you set my soul alight”? i guess i relate and “oh baby, i’m a fool for you” well, surely i’m not a fool but yea i get you muse sing it. it’s so gross. at this point he wants one thing that doesn’t make him think of you, just to prove that he’s not that gone, but he struggling

15. desperado- rhianna

i’m sorry to say it but this song makes him feel like a bad bitch LMAOOOOO. like if he’s ever getting pregame jitters or anything, he will just play this song. whether it’s on the speaker or in his headphones, he puts this shit on full volume and gets a lil too cocky LOL. this is also on the main seijoh playlist no doubt. he wants to share his bad bitch song w you, so you can aLSO feel like a bad bitch?? dUH

IM SO SORRY FOR THE WAIT BABES! IF YOU WANT ANY OF THE SONGS CHANGED (or even the character) LMK!! UR AMAZING ur so sweet it makes me ill

#haikyuu #haikyuu playlists #ikigaitooru playlists #matsukawa issei #mastukawa x reader #matsukawa playlist #haikyuu x reader

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boggirlsummer · 3 years

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Wet Hot American Summer

August 18 Zoey and I thought we fixed the leak in my tent but we were wrong. I spent the early morning inching away from a puddle that finally pushed me out around 8 am - time to get up anyway. Too rainy to cook or make coffee and I left camp aimlessly. I could barely see anything through the smoke and clouds which threw a wrench in my non-plan to drive around and take photos out the car window. Grand Tetons and Montana and Wyoming were up there on my teenage bucket list (lmao, dream big!), mostly for the landscapes and western vibes and maybe a few cathartic renditions of Wide Open Spaces. I just hiked all summer so I feel like I earned a few days of all-american automobile tourism.

Cozy

Decision fatigue is a ball buster on solo trips (and in life) and sometimes I refuse to change course even when it’s clear that a plan isn’t going to work out. I drove around Tetons alternately listening to the directions and making random navigational decisions, so Google kept yelling at me to make a u-turn. Eventually I got annoyed with both of us and stopped for snacks at the general store. I’ve been making my way through all the kettle chip flavors and so far honey dijon is the best and korean bbq is the worst.

Drove straight through to Yellowstone hoping the storm would let up, but by the time I got there it was 50 degrees with rain expected all afternoon. I thought it would be SUMMER once I left the Bay Area, so all my sweaters and warm jackets are in vacuum sealed bags that I don’t have the space in my car to open. I wasn’t loving the idea of being wet and cold in Yellowstone all night so I talked the campground lady into refunding my site reservation and headed for Big Sky, Montana.

I felt bad leaving without seeing any of the Yellowstone sights so I stopped at Old Faithful on my way out. I knew laughably little about what I was looking at and when a bunch of people started gathering I thought to myself, is this thing gonna explode or something?? And ya turns out that’s the entire point, it shoots a bunch of water and steam into the air every few minutes. I bought a cup of coffee and watched halfheartedly. The only other attraction I know about is the rainbow glory hole and there was so much traffic to park in the lot I said screw it and went on to Montana.

No LTE between Yellowstone and Big Sky and I was without a place to sleep - luckily my sister was available to do some emergency concierge work for me. I eventually found a nice campground near town but the obscene number of bear country warning signs freaked me out. I backtracked to Big Sky to buy a $50 can of bear spray, what a rip. Feeling beat today so I made it up to myself with a bowl of chicken curry ramen and a Sapporo. It was no nugget curry, but it did the job ☺️

Reading the bear spray instructions before bed - you’re supposed to use it once a charging bear is two to three seconds from reaching you. Wtf. I can’t do anything in two seconds. Finished Year of the Monkey at last. Almost fell asleep with a candy wrapper in my pocket, instant death. Also I got my period and I’m worried this is going to attract the bears.

August 19 I broke my own rule. I drove to Bozeman this morning and had a chicken fried steak at the Western Cafe, “The Last Best Cafe.” I had a nice chat with two old guys at the bar, initiated by ME! We talked about my trip so far and books (I was reading Walden Two and one of the guys had Woman in the Window with him, and we agreed that both authors are pretty nuts). Good time all around and then one of them secretly bought my breakfast 🥰 I’ve only ever had creepy men buy me drinks at bars so free CFS with no strings attached was a revelation. My smile lit up the cold dark streets of Bozeman.

Too early for hostel check-in so I killed some time hanging out in a coffee shop and wandering around Main Street. When I’m alone in a new city I usually get on the apps, it’s fun to hang out with a real LOCAL and have an AUTHENTIC experience. I did this on my first night in Sydney last year and my date won $7,000 at a bar raffle he’d been going to every week for three years and then bought us a night’s worth of top shelf shots, bad coke, and dumplings. Obviously I was his good luck charm so I should’ve gotten a cut of that $$$ but whatever… Eventually we went back to his depressing loft outside of the city. It was barely furnished and full of his shitty art and luckily he didn’t have any condoms so I was able to decline sex without feeling guilty (I had condoms of course but didn’t disclose). He tried to fuck me again around 4 am and I was so confused I thought he must have found a condom while I was briefly sleeping. He had not. I snuck out at 6 am and caught the bus back to the city. Not the most restful night but nice to get away from the hostel for a little while. But ya I updated my Hinge location to Bozeman and got hella conservative men swiping on me 🥴 My profile isn’t anything crazy but I don’t think I’m giving off Megyn Kelly vibes. Are they playing some sort of sexual bingo? Are they out to stealth me? Seems sus.

If you are a man on Hinge with a naked photo on your profile I WILL screenshot it and I WILL make a collage of my collection once I have enough material and I WILL sell it as a NFT and I WILL make $0 cuz y’all are freaks. This is the tamest one I’ve got, text me if you want a photo of a naked man covering his junk with a pineapple.

Ooooieee hostel is grungy and subterranean and not the kinda place you want to spend many conscious hours in. I took myself to the movies to escape - another thing I really missed last year. I saw The Night House, which I would describe as an architectural horror? I’ve been thinking about architecture a lot lately, this cool site Zoey sent me has some interesting interviews and stuff. In the movies I ate an entire bag of sour gummy worms and a box of junior mints.

Had a freaky bookstore experience earlier today, not the first time this summer. I originally wrote a longgg paragraph about synchronicity here but I got self conscious and started wondering if hearing other people’s stories about synchronicity is like listening to them talk about their dreams. I personally love talking about dreams (call me and tell me about your crazy dreams!!) but things definitely get lost in translation and sometimes they’re straight boring (like when my old coworkers and I used to dream in Excel, fucckkk). So I get why people find it annoying and here at Bog Girl Summer we can’t afford to alienate any of our readers. All I will say is that I walked into a bookstore today with synchronicity very much on my mind, went to the psychology section to buy a baby Jung text, and there saw a literal sign that said “Staff Pick, Introductory Jung: Synchronicity.” So yes, I bought it. Don’t forget y’all - I have a psychology degree so please don’t come after me about confirmation bias and all that lol. It’s very possible that in this summer of upheaval I’m desperate for some kinda sign that I’m on the right path. Let me have this one 😘

I also bought this postcard which spoke to me because most days I feel like I’m trying to drink out of a firehose

#Spotify

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atths--twice · 4 years

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The next story in the second year... I posted this back in January, but as it’s a part of the series, I will post it again. I seriously LOVED writing this one. I loved the idea and how it all turned out. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it. 💙

Carousel of Memories 2/8

Mulder makes a purchase that he is excited to share with Scully, something that has a connection to their past and the future. 💙

February 2020

“Hey, Scully,” Mulder called from downstairs, just loud enough to be heard, as he looked around the living room with a smile. He had heard her puttering around upstairs since they had put Faith to bed over an hour ago.

She had been exhausted, a full day of playing at the park and chasing after the older children. They had walked around the pond and fed the ducks, always on the lookout for the one they saw last year that had been so gentle with Faith.

Coming home, she had yawned through her dinner, nearly falling asleep before she finished her meal. A quick bath and one story was enough to put her to sleep, her breathing deep and heavy as he laid her in her crib. Closing her door, he had gone downstairs as Scully had headed into their bedroom. He had not said anything, needing her to be distracted for a little while. But now he was ready and all that was missing was the woman upstairs.

“What?” she called down to him, her tone hushed. He smiled as he stepped closer to the stairs and looked up at her.

“Would you mind joining me downstairs, please?”

“Why?”

“Because I asked so politely,” he said with a smile. She cocked her head to the side and he imitated her. “I have wine.” She raised an eyebrow and smiled, and he knew she would be joining him.

“Okay. Let me grab some socks and I’ll be down.”

“All right,” he said, drawling out the words in imitation of Matthew McConaughey, snapping his fingers and pointing them like guns, causing her to laugh softly.

He smiled as he walked back to the surprise he had set up for her. Two glasses of wine sat on the coffee table and everything else was ready, except for the lights which he quickly turned off, save for the one on the staircase. Waiting with excitement, he heard her begin to come down the stairs.

“Why… why is it dark down here?” she asked when she was halfway down. “What are you doing… oh… Mulder, no. Oh God. Please no.”

“What?”

“Mulder, where…? How…? Where did you find that?”

He looked at the carousel full of slides set on top of a stack of books on a chair and then the white sheet he had hung from the archway into the kitchen. Looking back at her, he watched her looking at the same things with a slight frown on her face.

“Scully, you act as though you’re not happy about watching a slideshow,” he deadpanned, knowing exactly how she felt about past slideshows, having heard enough of her groans as she sat in their basement office.

“Oh, you got that right. My God, where did you even find this?” she asked, touching the machine and closing her eyes. “The sound and the warmth of this… it’s not exactly PTSD, but it’s a close relative- a cousin perhaps.” Opening her eyes, she shook her head and moved her hand with a shiver.

He laughed and walked to the coffee table to pick up the glasses of wine. “Maybe this will help with your terrible suffering.” He handed one to her and made to clink their glasses together.

“Hold on,” she said, pulling her glass away before his touched hers. “I didn’t say I was going to watch it.”

“Well then, I’m sorry, you don’t get the wine.” He tried to take it from her but she moved back too quickly. Raising his eyebrows at her, she shook her head.

“Mama needs her wine,” she said, her voice suddenly low and husky. “She slid down a lot of slides today. And climbed through multiple playground tunnels. She needs this wine.” Holding the glass away from his grasp, she held her other hand up, stopping him from trying to step closer.

“Well, to be fair, it is easier for you to do those things, Scully, since you still meet the height requirement.” Her eyes widened and he watched her struggle to not laugh and remain stern. Laughter won out as she shoved him and shook her head.

“You’re such a dick sometimes,” she said as she laughed.

“I have such a dick, or I am such a dick?” he teased, as she raised her eyebrows and bit her lip.

“Both,” she answered, her eyes roaming his body, his blood immediately racing. Taking a drink of her wine, he watched her throat as she swallowed it, thinking of the taste of her skin.

“Don’t try to tempt me, Miss Scully. Your womanly ways don’t work on me.” It was a goddamn lie every time he said it, and he knew it, but this was a chess game; all the pieces carefully laid out, and he was about to win. No way was he going to back down now.

“Mulder,” she chuckled, stepping past him with a shake of her head, and headed toward the couch.

Check, he thought with a grin, knowing she was about to admit defeat. His grin disappeared quickly as she took off her thick white robe and sat on the couch with a teasing smile, her glass of wine in hand.

Watching her sit cross legged in her plaid pajama bottoms and one of his old long sleeved gray henleys, he swallowed and licked his lips. Two of the buttons were undone and her right shoulder was exposed, the shirt far too big on her.

“Uh huh,” she nodded, with a smirk as she pulled the shirt up her shoulder, despite his protests as he walked towards her. “I simply sat down and look at you, coming to me, just as I knew you would. You would toss that projector out the window if I really used my womanly ways.” She smiled and took another drink of her wine.

“Actually, I was just coming over to set down my glass,” he said, putting it down slowly, holding her eyes as he did.

”Such a dick,” she said quietly, her words sounding hollow as her lips were still pressed to her glass. He wiggled his eyebrows at her and she sighed. “Okay, Mulder, against my better judgment, and only because there’s a bottle of wine, I will sit through another one of your slideshows.”

Checkmate! He thought, triumphantly celebrating with a wild dance, though only in his mind.

“But Mulder, I swear to God,” she warned, pointing at him. “If there are any dead, exsanguinated cows… one, let alone six, I will not be held responsible for my actions.” He laughed and then froze, looking at the carousel with a frown, not entirely sure it was free of cows.“Mulder? I don’t like that look of uncertainty on your face…”

“No… no, we’re good.”

“I’m not sure I quite believe you. Bring that bottle of wine over here and set it on the coffee table. Mama will need more than one glass if she’s gonna get through this.”

“No, we’re good, I promise.”

“Mm-hmm. Wine please.”

He laughed and went to do as she asked, grabbing the remote for the slide projector on the way back. Setting the bottle down, he sat beside her with a grin, his excitement spilling over. She sighed and cut her eyes at him and he laughed.

“Ready?”

“No.”

“Too bad, here we go.” He pressed the forward arrow and a picture of a sign covered the white sheet. “Yellowstone! The very first national park. Dedicated on March 1, 1872, it became a place for everyone to enjoy the unique hydrothermal and geologic wonders of the area.”

Clicking to the next slide, they saw a campground with many tents. “Accommodations are plentiful in Yellowstone, whether in lodges, cabins, hotels or campgrounds. Although I’m not sure a lot of those were available when these particular pictures were taken.”

The next slide popped up and Scully choked on her wine and wiped her mouth, looking at him questioningly.

Two men were standing by a grill, cigarettes in their mouths and smiles on their faces. They were bare chested and clad in only bathing suits: very short and tight bathing suits, as was the fashion of the time in which the photos were taken.

“What? What is this? Who are these people?”

“This is… Bud and Fred. They are being manly men, providing for their women and children, cooking dinner over an open fire. It was the fifties, this was the only way most men cooked.”

“Bud and Fred,” she said, her eyes twinkling, a huge grin on her face.

“Yup, and this…” He grinned back as he clicked to the next slide and two women appeared. They were standing together, in bathing suits of the same fifties style, large white sunglasses covering their eyes, and scarves tied around their hair. “This is Nancy and Sissy. They have been best friends for years and this is their first long distance trip.” Scully laughed and nodded, taking a drink of wine and putting her head on his shoulder.

“Tell me more about this little group.”

For an hour, they went through the carousel of slides, laughing and drinking the entire bottle of wine, as he told her about the lives he had created for the people in the photos.

Bud and Nancy had two children, Skip and Susan. Fred and Sissy had two boys, Tommy and Bobby. The families enjoyed their trip together; camping, fishing, and hiking. There were hot dog roasts and days at the beach, everyone brown and happy. The cars they drove were big and the men took great pride in their ownership, judging by the many photos taken in front of them.

The women were dressed to perfection, even while in bathing suits, hair and makeup always proper and in place. Sissy was a bit of a flirt, constantly preening for the camera while Nancy laughed beside her, the prettier of the two, but seemingly unaware of it.

The landscape was beautiful and so different than it looked now. It was like walking into a past neither of them was yet a part of, but to which they felt a special kinship. The time before cell phones, the Internet, streaming devices, Google, and twenty four hour news cycles. Instead, it was a time when life was spent outside, the world felt safe, and an adventure waited around every corner.

The last slide was of all of them on a pier, the blue ocean stretching out behind them. The men and boys were in casual suits, and the women and girls in dresses, no doubt heading out to a fancy lunch. Everyone looked so happy to be together, judging by the smiles and the closeness in which they stood.

Mulder clicked the remote and the room was filled with white light. Scully sighed as she rubbed his leg and then raised her head from his shoulder.

“That was my favorite slideshow you’ve ever shown me. Everything was so beautiful, and not one single cow; dead or otherwise." She smiled cheekily and he laughed. “I love the story you created for them, no matter that it was purely fictional. What other adventures do you suppose they had?”

“Funny you should ask,” he answered, as he stood up and set his glass down. Walking over to a box, he heard her following behind him. Opening the lid of the box, he showed her boxes of slides inside of it.

“What?” She pulled one out and opened it. Taking out a slide and holding it up, they saw a young woman in a graduation cap and gown, Bud and Sissy beside her. “This must be Susan.”

“Well, she’s actually called Barbara, not Susan,” Mulder said with a smile. She turned her head, bringing her arm down, and looked at him quizzically.

“Mulder, how do you have a box of someone else’s family’s slides?”

“Remember when I had lunch with Skinner a couple of days ago?” She nodded and he continued. “On the way home, I happened to see a sign for an estate sale. I was curious and thought I’d stop in and see what was being sold.”

“That was when you got the big bowl? The blue one?”

“Right,” he nodded and she put the slide back, but still held the box. “I also saw this slide projector sitting in a box on a table. I opened it and found it was in amazing condition for being so old. I felt a sense of nostalgia for all the slideshows I put you through over the years, and I knew I had to have it.” She smiled and he grinned. “I asked how much and they told me, but didn’t mention it came with this box of slides. I had them set it aside for me as I continued looking around. I found the big bowl and not much else we absolutely needed, so I went to pay and discovered that box with the slide projector. I explained I only wanted the projector, but they insisted I take the box as well.”

Taking out a box of slides, he opened it and pulled one out at random. Holding it up, they saw a Christmas tree and gifts beneath it, and they both smiled.

“As I looked at these, I saw it was years of photos and it felt weird to have someone else’s private photos and memories. I called the estate sale company and inquired about the family, only gaining a name, and did some sleuthing. Turns out, Bud was named Patrick and Sissy was Maureen. They were married, not Bud and Nancy, like the story I made up for tonight.” He put the slide back and replaced the lid.

“So, I had their first names and surname, Archer, and I began to see what I could find." Smiling at her, he put the box back and stared at them. “For all the complaining I do about Facebook, within an hour of searching, I found Barbara Edwards, née Archer.” Scully smiled at him and he nodded.

“Barbara is seventy six and lives in Colorado. Her parents passed away within a few months of each other and she was left with all the legalities it entailed. It’s been very difficult for her as she has some health problems and was not able to fly here to oversee the estate sale. She had no idea that the photos were even there, not having seen them for years.”

“And you, no doubt, offered to send them to her,” she said softly with a knowing smile and he stared at her.

“Of course I did,” he said with a shrug. “Wouldn’t you want them if it was you?” She nodded and touched his arm, squeezing lightly.

“I would expect nothing less from you, Mulder,” she said quietly and he nodded.

“She was so happy. She kept crying and telling me what a wonderful person I was and that I would be blessed for my kindness.” He smiled as he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close. “I told her I had already been blessed by all I would ever need and she cried again.” Scully laughed and buried her face in his chest.

They were quiet, the hum of the projector the main sound in the room. Pulling back, she stared at him with wet eyes and a smile.

“So why the slideshow then? They are still her personal photos.” He smiled and stroked her cheek.

“Barbara asked how many boxes there were and when I said ten, she laughed and cried. She said she remembered watching them as a kid and then when she was older, always mesmerized at seeing herself growing up in pictures. I asked what her favorites were and she said this vacation,” he said, looking at the projector. “They were gone for the whole summer and it was one she always looked back on fondly. She asked for me to share her favorite vacation with my family before I sent them to her and so I did… just took a few liberties with their story.”

Scully laughed and put her head back on his chest, her arms holding him tight.

“We don’t need to send her the big bowl though, right?” she asked and he laughed, rubbing her back.

“No. I did ask, of course, but the big bowl is ours.”

“Good. Because I really do like it.”

He chuckled as he closed his eyes and held her close, listening to the hum of the machine and the memories it held…

“The girl obviously died of something. If it was natural causes, it's plausible that there was something missed in the post-mortem. If she was murdered, it's plausible there was a sloppy investigation. What I find fantastic is any notion that there are answers beyond the realm of science. The answers are there. You just have to know where to look.”

“That’s why they put the “I” in “FBI.” See you tomorrow morning, Scully, bright and early. We leave for the very plausible state of Oregon at eight a.m.”

“It's a…”

“Dead cow! Exactly. Or more specifically, a dead 900-pound Holstein, its body completely drained of blood as was this one, this one, this one, this one, and so on. Six, all in all, approximately one a week over the past six weeks.”

“A series of geometrically perfect rings appearing almost impossibly overnight in a field near Cambridge, but that was merely prelude of what was to come. Three years later, in 1994, even more complex formations occurred simultaneously on opposite ends of the English countryside with the Mandelbrot Set, were it still there, at its center. Then, in 1997, even more complex formations occurred... and I'm not wearing any pants right now.”

“A corporeal likeness that appears unbidden from the spirit world the sight of which presages one's own death or... a double, conjured into the world by a technique called bi-location… which in psychological terms represents the person's secret desires and impulses committing acts that the, uh, real person cannot commit himself ... or herself?”

“Mulder, the slide please,” she whispered, breaking into his thoughts, and he chuckled, amazed once again at how well they knew each other.

“Don't go thinking I'm going to start doing the autopsies,” he whispered back and she laughed softly.

“Well, now that you’re about to lose your box of slides, and we definitely don’t have any here, what exactly was your plan when you purchased the projector?” she asked, pulling back to look at him.

“I’m glad you asked,” he answered, a smile pulling at his lips, even as she let out a suspicious groan. “When I saw it, it made me nostalgic for our past like I said, but it also made me nostalgic for the past itself. The days when the projector screen was pulled down in the classroom, or home movies were watched. The sound of the slide projector, reels of tapes, a VCR rewinding, a record player… that’s our past, our memories. Faith will grow up with information at her fingertips. She won’t know the time it took to learn how to use a card catalog, microfiche machines, or even using a copy machine.” He shrugged and she stepped back, placing her hands on his chest.

“I can’t say that I don’t envy her. I hated that microfiche machine. And so did you, if I remember correctly, which I usually do,” she teased, patting his chest.

“That’s just it,” he said, holding her wrists gently. “I don’t want her to have to ride her bike to the library to learn about a subject she wants to discover like you and I did.”

“Buuuuuut,” she said with a smile.

“Some things, Scully… some things I want her to experience the way we did. I want her to share that with us. I want her to love that scratchy popping sound a record has when it starts, or feel that excitement of what will be seen when a projector screen is being set up. I want her to have that thirst for knowledge.”

“Mulder, she’s your child. She was born with a thirst for knowledge, of that I have no doubt.” He smiled and nodded, as she tilted her head and smiled at him. “But I understand what you mean and I love that you bought that projector, especially to share it with her. Even if it still brings up some images that cause me to just…” She shivered and he laughed.

“There is one thing I will insist upon though,” she said with a stern expression.

“No exsanguinated cows, I know.”

“No,” she laughed. “Well, yes, but not that. We need to get a projector screen, because that sheet will end up hanging there for too long if we don’t. I know you, Mulder.” She raised her eyebrows and he laughed.

“That you do, Scully,” he said as he pulled her close again. “That you do.”

He smiled as he thought of all the things there would be to share with Faith. Myth and reality and how to merge the two into fun learning experiences. He thought of the eye rolls he would see from Scully as he shared photos with Faith and told her about Big Blue, Sasquatches, and aliens.

He then thought of Barbara. Her favorite memories were tied to a trip taken sixty eight years ago and soon she would relive it when the box of slides arrived in the mail.

Photos would bring those beloved memories to life.

They had years ahead of them with their little girl, to create memories like the ones Barbara had with her family. Trips, birthdays, Christmases, and everyday little insignificant moments that would turn into big ones. He could not wait to capture it all and share it with her.

One click of a slide at a time.

#The X Files #XF Fanfic #Post MSIV #Family Life: The Story Beyond the Series #Slideshow #Memories #Sharing stories #Happy Family #Family Fluff #Happy #Fluff and Humor #Love #Couch Cuddles

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fandom-imagines-stories · 4 years

Text

Mamma Mia AU 2 It’s a Rich Man’s World

Mamma Mia AU (With the boys)

Words: 1507

Summary: Your two best friends arrive on the island just in time for everything to fall apart.

Notes: Hello lovely humans, I don’t know if the link that I sent you guys works, so if you have comments, I guess just message me? Yes I know the band name is cheesy, please help me. (Also, I’m posting this at 11:12 P.M. my time so it is technically still Monday)

New to the series? Here’s the trailer made by @childhood-imagination: Mamma Mia AU Trailer

While Lili and Kat were the first ones off the ferry, your friends took a little longer to get through the group of passengers. It didn’t help that Priyanka had her gargantuan suitcase trailing behind her. You could pick that red sun hat out of any crowd.

“For one night!” You shouted once most of the other people had filtered away. “And one night only!”

“Farrah…”

“And the…”

“Fates!” You ran across the dock, colliding in a big group hug. You must have sounded like a group of middle school girls the way you were giggling and squaking. You hadn’t been called your stage name in years, but hearing them say it took you back to when you were all young and carefree and you didn’t have a business to keep a float.

“I’ve missed you guys.” You sighed, pulling back to look at your two best friends in the whole world. Priyanka smiled.

“You should come and visit us sometime! Once Daisy and KJ have flown away from the nest.”

“Are you kidding?” You laughed, shaking your head. “Who would run this place? It’s falling apart as it is.” You helped them put their luggage into the trunk of the jeep and you all climbed in.

“Then we’ll just have to come here more often.” Scarlett suggested. “When her majesty is in between press tours and photo shoots… and husbands.” She poked at Priyanka mockingly who swatted her hands away. Priyanka had become a pretty popular model throughout Europe, but she’d cut away this time to come to the wedding. She had also been married a few times- three, to be exact. But she was happily single at the moment and always ready to party.

Scarlett, on the other hand, wrote books in her lovely cottage up in Ireland. She wrote some of the sappiest self-love books you’d ever seen, but she was always the best shoulder to cry on. And boy, had you cried on it many times.

Twenty One Years Ago

“We’re going to be late!” Scarlett shouted from outside the bathroom door. It was your first gig as a group and you’d been throwing up all afternoon from the nerves.

“I can’t do it!” You cried, sitting on the cool, tiled floor. “I’m gonna screw it up and then we’ll all look like idiots!”

“Sweetie, you’re not going to screw it up.” She assured you, though Priyanka’s face was starting to look skeptical. Scarlett pinched her arm.

“You’ll do great.” She yelped, swatting Scarlet’s hand away. “Now come out here so I can fix your make-up, or I swear, Y/N, I will break down the door.” You thought for a moment, realized that she actually would, and scrambled to your feet to unlock the door.

“You look fine.” Scarlett smiled and Priyanka placed a hand on your shoulder.

“I’ll just do a couple touch-ups.”

The makeshift stage wobbled under your feet as you walked on. The festival was swarming with people, but not many had stopped to listen. They all just passed by, ignoring the three of you completely. While your crowd only consisted of an older woman selling flowers and a man in a worn band t-shirt and jeans, you would make the best of it. You blew out a nervous breath and just let the music take over.

“Tonight the super trooper lights are gonna find me. But I won’t feel blue. Like I always do. Cause somewhere in the crowd there’s you.” You sang out your opening solo, your voice a little unsure at first, but as soon as Scarlett hit the button to play the tape and the music you’d written started to play, you’d never felt more confident. With your best friends by your side, you could stay on the stage forever.

More of a crowd had formed and people were starting to cheer, fueling your energy. It felt like everything was blurred into one, the crowd, the music, Priyanka and Scarlet. By the time you reached the end, you were practically glowing.

“Tonight the super trooper lights are gonna find me. But I won’t feel blue. Like I always do. Cause somewhere in the crowd….” You did your final dancing spin, but your foot caught on one of the creaky, loose boards and you tumbled off the edge of the stage, the crowd collectively gasping. Instead of the ground, however, you landed in the strong arms of the t-shirt clad man with beautiful brown eyes and a gorgeous smile. “There’s you.”

The crowd cheered and the man gently set you on your feet, his grin sheepish as he rubbed the back of his neck.

“You okay?” He asked and you nodded, unable to form actual words. “You must be Farrah?” He pointed to the poorly made banner that hung over the stage. You just stared at him, lost in those perfect, perfect eyes.

“Ahem.” Priyanka coughed, drawing you out of your trance. You felt the blush rush to your cheeks. He just kept smiling at you, a quiet laugh escaping his lips.

“Farrah is my stage name.” You admitted. “My real name is Y/N.”

“Well, Y/N, I don’t think I’ve ever had that much fun at a concert before.” He beamed and you could feel the butterflies in your stomach go wild. “You guys are really really good.” He looked up at Priyanka and Scarlett who looked as wide eyed over his good looks as you were.

“T-thanks.” Scarlett stammered. Priyanka rolled her eyes at you and Scarlett’s awkward natures.

“We were going to grab a drink in between sets…” She gave you a suggestive look, darting her eyes between you and him. It took you a second to catch on.

“Oh!” You exclaimed, more blush turning your face red. “Would you like to join us?” He stuck his hands in his pockets and rocked forward on his heels.

“I’d love to.”

“Oh my god, how rude of me,” You turned to introduce your bandmates, “This is Priyanka,” She flashed him one of her show-stopping smiles, “and this is Scarlett,” She gave him a small wave. He nodded politely and his eyes fell back to you.

“I’m Pedro.”

Present Day

The trek up the stairs was painful and had the two women huffing and puffing by the time you reached the top. You, of course, were used to the hike and couldn’t help but snicker.

“Why did I wear stilettos?” Priyanka exclaimed dramatically. They set down their suitcases with a thunk.

“Here, let me get those.” KJ offered with his usual charming smile.

“Guys, meet KJ, he’s the leading man for Friday’s shindig.” You introduced and he chuckled.

“The lucky man.” He beamed. “You must be… Priyanka.” She nodded and he pulled her into a hug.

“Wow.” She mouthed over his shoulder. He turns to Scarlett.

“And you must be Scarlett.”

“I am.” She nodded with her usual welcoming grin and hugged him tightly. He helped you take their things to their room before scampering off to gather supplies for a date he was planning with Daisy.

“Just one more night together before things start to get a little crazy for the wedding.” He explained. He was right. Today was probably the last day before set-up would be in full swing. Daisy wanted a big wedding and oh boy, that’s what she was getting. As soon as KJ left, Scarlett fell back onto her bed.

“I want to stay here forever and never get up.” She groaned, rubbing her aching feet. “Why do you have to live on a freaking mountain?”

“I’m lucky I didn’t break a heel.” Priyanka added in agreement.

“Well the two of you better get used to the not so luxurious life here for the next few days.” You snorted. “The walls in here need a new coat of paint, the floors creak, and the toilet doesn’t always flush correctly.” You laughed, shaking your head. “Nothing works around here, except for me.”

You flopped down on the bed next to Scarlett and Priyanka joined on the other side of you. You grabbed onto their hands and felt powerful again.

“It’s all money, money, money out there.” You sighed. “And without snatching a wealthy husband, I’m stuck doing the laundry and the dishes and everything else around here.” You chuckled to yourself, mentally scolding yourself for sounding so whiny.

“Speaking of husbands…” Priyanka wriggled her eyebrows.

“Here we go,” Scarlett laughed, “Husband number four!”

“Not for me, for you!” Priyanka exclaimed, poking Scarlett in the side. “There’s got to be some Greecian god around here somewhere.”

“No.” She waved her hand for emphasis. “No thank you. I’m fine all on my own, thanks.”

“What great examples for Sohpie you two are; The Serial Bride and the Little Hermit.” You threw your head back with a laugh. While the three of you reminisce over your ‘glory days’, your daughter had her hands full down on the beach, staring at the three men bickering on the dock; one of whom was her father.

General Tag: @rae-gar-targaryen; @takemepedropascal; @childhood-imagination

Mamma Mia Series list: @materialisthicc; @holybatflapexpert; @mandoandyodito; @justawriterinprogress; @fangirl-multifandoms; @thelupusonyx; @arrowswithwifi; @mylovegoesto; @ahopelessromanticwritersworld; @kata1803 Pedro Tag List: @halefirewarrior; @c-ly-g

#mamma mia au #pedro pascall #oscar isaac #diego luna #goddamn these men #kj apa

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headoverhiddles · 5 years

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Killing Strangers - Marilyn Manson x Reader AU [Smut]

Synopsis: Your boyfriend is a dangerous man, with secretive toys, a secretive past, and skeletons in his closet. But what will you do when he’s not around to protect you?

P1/? I may continue this on ao3.

Notes: Undercover Agent/Assassin Manson AU!! I couldn’t get this plot bunny out of my head, so here you go. This is me procrastinating on all my other planned MM fics. Enjoy! (Kill4Me, Killing Strangers, and Gangster by Kehlani are great songs to cycle while reading this)

It’s midnight in Stuttgart, Germany.

You spread out on the chaise lounge, your dress riding up to your knee as you rest your head in your arms and watch the lights of the city blink. It’s beautiful here.

Your boyfriend is an assassin working for a non-government branch, and has got three different places, in different spots. The first one is a penthouse in New York City, upper Manhattan. The second is, as he likes to call it, ‘homebase’, in Los Angeles, a hilltop mansion with bulletproof gates. He’s been spending the most time here in the German penthouse lately, having left behind much of his work in LA.

You rise from the chaise, dress brushing the floor as you walk over to the bookcase. He’s got a single photograph connecting him to anything he’s done in the past, and it’s a photo of him ten years ago, and five other men, all dressed in black suits.

That had been the dream team: The Antichrist Syndicate. It had started with his partner Jeordie, codename Twiggy, who used to run with Manson in the early days of the business. Then Kenneth, codename Ginger, John, codename 5, Stephen, codename Pogo, Skold, codename Arctic Wolf, and finally, your boyfriend: Brian Warner, codename Manson, the Pale Emperor. They had all worked for an international organization for undercover peacekeeping, called Interscope, under a philanthropist named Trent. They did good, keeping secrets, taking out high profile people. Trent ran a tight business, no loose ends. Then after Mission Grotesque, a particularly bloody affair in Berlin, they parted ways.

5 left first, then Pogo, then Skold, and finally Ginger decided it was time to leave as well. Ginger and 5 had teamed up again in some kind of partnership somewhere across the world in Romania, Pogo had left the life for good (and had probably gotten killed for it by now), nobody really knew what happened to Twiggy, and Skold had gone rogue, become a ghost, a gun for hire.

Manson would have done the same, if becoming a lone wolf wasn’t so unreliable. He liked the benefits he got from working under contract, which meant he could provide for you, keep you safe, keep you under protection when he wasn’t around to look after you. The Loma Vista organization under Bates paid him good, and made it clear that you and he would both be untraceable.

You adjust the framed photograph, dusting it off with your fingertips. Manson played it like he didn’t give a shit about anything or any of those ‘backstabbing assholes’, but you could read him well enough to know he missed those days sometimes.

You walk over to the bar in the penthouse, pouring yourself another cosmo. You had been a bartender before Manson had picked you up in that club three years ago, so you knew how to mix a good one. You run your fingers down your neck to your diamond dagger-shaped necklace, smiling. It felt good knowing how much he cared for you. The danger of his job was all worth it—you would kill for him, and he would do the same.

You walk back over to the window, and sigh. The cars passing below look like small fairy lights, dancing in the blur of the night, and your eyes in the glass reflection mirror the stars.

Suddenly, all the lights go out. You swish your drink, letting the lit up city illuminate its path up to your lips.

"There's an intruder in the house," you remark dryly, "Whatever will I do?"

"Beg for mercy," Manson's voice growls behind you, and fingers wrap around the back of your neck. You take another sip of your pink drink, blinking your eyelashes.

"You gonna choke me, daddy?"

He hums, vibrations rumbling against your back. "I've gotten too used to having you around. I’d probably go crazy without you." Instead of choking you as some lethal assailant in the night may have, he begins massaging you instead. "You haven't been relaxing. You're stiff, sweetheart." You reach back, hand finding his crotch.

"And you're not." You turn around, looking up at him teasingly. "That's a problem." He turns the lights back on, smirking as the shoulders of your dress fall down your back.

"We won’t have to worry about that for long." He walks over to fix himself a drink, undoing his top two buttons to reveal the tattoos on his chest. "What’d you do today, babygirl?"

"Made sure nobody broke in and killed me," you smile sweetly, sauntering by him. You hum, and look at his gun cabinet as you pass it. "That gets me wondering..."

"Mm," he mumbles, half listening as he downs his glass of vodka and pours himself another. You watch him, biting your lip. His black shards of hair are in his eyes, and his cuff links have the slightest trace of dried blood on them. It makes you wet imagining how it got there.

Turning to the cabinet your curiosity had brought you to, you unlatch it, and take a small gun out. You make sure to attach the silencer, as you’d seen Manson do a million times, and close the cabinet door softly. Walking back over to the living room, you stand across from the west wall.

Looking around, you aim at a plate on the shelf across the room, and pull the trigger. It instead blows a hole through a copy of Grimm’s Fairy Tales, and Manson looks up from where he’s cutting lines.

“Mind telling me why you’re shooting up the place?”

“I’m practicing,” you shush him, getting up and inspecting the smoking bullet hole, “What am I going to do when you’re away one day and some thug comes in, trying to kidnap me to get to you?” He stares at you through dark eyes, taking a sip of his vodka. You go on. “Picture it. Bates sends you off to Hong Kong to kill some arms dealer who wouldn’t pay. I’m here... all alone... dressed like I am...” You inch your dress up your leg, and his eyes dart down, following the hike of your skirt.

“So, you wanna protect yourself with a gun?” he muses, using a rolled up hundred to snort his lines. “How patriotic.”

“Fuck off.” You lick your matte red lips. “If you get to play with guns, so should I.”

A smug smirk dances on his lips as he admires your form. At least your breasts are being pushed together nicely the way you’re holding that pistol. “Uh huh. Have some of this.”

“I’m busy.”

He walks over to the couch, and sits behind you with his drink, watching. “Okay. Try again.”

You look at him, then back at your target: the damn plate.

He settles in, elbows on his knees, and watches your finger stroke the trigger. “Careful, angel. Aim nice and close.” You close one eye, and pull the trigger. Manson cringes as you blow his first edition Alistair Crowley book away.

He gets up, sighing, and sets his drink down. “You wanna learn how to do what I do?” he mumbles in your ear. He presses his weight up against you from behind, and wraps his arms around you, rolling up his sleeves. His hand encompasses yours, tattooed fingers making sure your grip is right. “Here’s what I do.” He jerks your arm, shooting the plate. Then he shoots a cross pattern into the wall behind it, with four bullet holes, and strokes his hand down your hip. You moan gently, and he pauses. “Oh. You like that?”

“Mhm,” you nod, and he brushes your hair aside, holding your shoulder.

“Your turn.” You aim, and he holds your hand again, steady. “Shoot,” he whispers, pointing just past you, “Here. And the world’ll get smaller, sweetheart.”

His voice is like sandpaper honeyed over. You lean back into him, and his hand finds your breast, massaging it as you try to aim. You give up a few seconds later, and he guides the gun down between your breasts, down your stomach, and slides your dress up your thigh.

“Please,” you whisper, and he dips the barrel of the gun into your black lace panties.

“I fucking wanted you all week,” he growls in your ear, “It killed me being away from you.”

“You could’ve called me.”

He drags the gun up and down. “I don’t have enough burner phones for how many times I had to jack off thinking of you.”

You shiver, reaching back to palm him. He’s half hard in his pants, and you want more. “What did you think of?”

“You, putting on a little show for me. Those gorgeous eyes, staring up at me like I’m the world while you suck my cock like it’s all you live for.”

“Oh,” you breathe, and he massages your other breast, starting to move the gun against your clit.

“You look good holding a gun, babygirl. Aim and show daddy just how good you are.” He gives you the gun, but you drop it and press your lips to his. He walks you back into the floor to ceiling glass windows, and tears your dress, letting it fall around your ankles.

“I liked that dress,” you pout.

“Fuck the dress,” he mutters, and turns you around so you’re facing the building opposite you. You’re only in black pantyhose and a black push up bra, otherwise exposed. He sinks his teeth into your shoulder, his grill making the mark even more pronounced, and you purr, grinding back against him. He grinds his cock into your ass for a moment, just reveling in the sound of your soft moans growing in volume.

He finally pulls your panties down, and positions himself, slowly sinking into you. You gasp, palms splaying out over the window. He grunts once he’s all the way in, then starts up a pace. You grind back into every thrust, and he holds you around your middle, slapping your ass with his hips every time he pounds in.

“You know, if someone broke in, you could just fuck them to distract them until I got back. Your pussy could send a man to an early grave.”

Angrily, you shove back against the window so that both of you fall to the floor, and you get back on top of him. He holds your hips, mouth falling open and head falling back as you start to ride him hard into the floor.

“Babyg... ah, ah... ah...”

“You like that?” you circle your hips, slamming down, “Huh? Mister tough hitman, scary pale emperor, thinks I can’t protect myself. You like feeling my wet little cunt around you? Guess who’s on top of who?!”

“Fuck,” he groans, and you put your forearms on either side of his head, dragging your breasts up over his face.

“I’m close,” you whisper, “Oh god.” He holds you tighter, reaching up your ribcage to grope your breasts and suck your nipples.

“That’s it, sweetheart. Cum on my fucking cock,” he sneers, “Do it, I know you want it.”

“Manson,” you moan, and he rocks you through your orgasm from beneath. When he knows you’re done, he flips you over, roughly pounding into you a few times before his hips stutter and he swears again, finishing inside you.

He catches his breath, and kisses your forehead, rolling over beside you. His hair is messed up, eyeshadow smudged over half-lidded eyes.

“I’m sorry about the dress, babygirl. I’ll buy you a new one. Pretty one, just like that one, hm?”

“Thank you,” you whisper, crossing your leg with his. He holds onto your leg, chest rising and falling. You two finally rise, and you pull your panties up, so your lingerie set is at least complete to walk around in.

“Now. About this gun thing.” He runs his hand through his hair, and picks it up. “Why don’t we practice on something useful?”

He points out the window at the neighbour he absolutely despises. The guy has his Christmas tree decked out in LED blinking lights that never seem to go out, and while the building across from you seems like it’s miles away, it hasn’t stopped irking either of you.

“Kill Griswold over there.”

“I can’t kill him!”

“Your aim is fine.”

“I bet you I can’t.”

“I bet you can, and whoever is wrong has to give the other person... four straight hours of oral sex.”

You sigh, and aim the gun. “What about the windows, genius?” His hands find your hips, and he holds his hands together in front of you, resting his forearms on your curves. He lays his head in the nape of your neck, watching with you.

“We’ll replace them tomorrow, with your dress.”

“You think it’s smart to leave the penthouse of a contract killer wide open all night?”

“If anybody comes to get us, I know who’s gonna protect me.” He nudges you with his head. “Shoot the motherfucker.”

You pull the trigger, and hit the poor guy’s power box. His tree goes up in flames, and you stifle a laugh. You two watch as he comes storming into his living room, and looks over, trying to find who did it in a sea of tiny apartment lights. He finally looks all the way up at you two. Manson waves, grinning, and you blow him a kiss.

“My nasty little femme fatale,” he mumbles into your neck. He saunters over to the chaise, sitting back, and you sit on his lap, slinging your legs sideways over his.

“When’s your next job?” you ask, taking a sip from his tumbler of vodka. He plays with a lock of your hair.

“Next month. Contract in Berlin.”

Berlin. That’s... “That’s not far,” you murmur, mouthing kisses along the corner of his mouth, playing with the last few done up buttons above his navel. You trace the long upside down cross he’s got tattooed there.

“Mmm,” Manson agrees, fondly stroking up and down your arms. “I think we should get a cat. We can pawn it off on Bates when we leave.” He idly looks back at the picture frame on the shelf, staring for longer than usual. You follow his line of sight, and try to think of the best way to say it.

“Maybe... he doesn’t want to be found, babe.” Manson looks back to you.

“Good. I hope the fucker stays lost.”

Snuggling into him on the couch, listening to the late night Stuttgart traffic from the open air where your window used to be, you feel his heartbeat pick up a little. No matter how much he tried to deny it, the mystery was weighing on him.

After Mission Grotesque, where had his old partner disappeared to?

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