#henry living in the west end yes PLEASE | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

na-ta-sh-aa · 1 year ago

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I'm shocked, this was so beautiful but the end literally left me speechless!

“You frowned at him, not understanding why he was so nervous. Your aunt and uncle were well off, yes, but they were kind people, practically saints when compared with the rest of high society in Baltimore. You knew Benjamin had prepped him on what to expect, but you supposed that he was feeling much like you had felt when first arriving in Maverick. It’s one thing to be told, it’s another thing entirely to experience firsthand.”

I found this version of Jake really interesting. Seeing him more nervous and not with his usual attitude was a little strange, but I really liked it. It seemed to me that initially he felt like a fish out of water, outside his city, with different people and habits.

“when Jake grabbed your wrist. You turned to see his eyes searching yours uncertainly, and you gave him a puzzled look in return.”

“Jake swallowed thickly. “What if…what if I do something wrong?”

He has such a big heart! I liked that his main concern was of putting her in a bad light. I love how in every situation she is his priority and how she is always on his mind.

“He seems very taken with you,” she pressed. “And you with him.”

I love how their feelings are so transparent. It only took a few moments together and Aunt Jo has already understood that there is something more between them than a friendship as they want everyone to believe.

“Because you never had that twinkle in your eye that I see in it now,”it’s clear to me that out west is where you belong.”

Lucy seems like a really sweetie and a good friend to me, I liked how she noticed how Scout is happier since she lives out west.

“Is he handsome? Is he charming? Is he rugged? Does he have a gun? How wild is he compared to the other cowboys? What-”

Ohh all the answers are yes!

“I look forward to seeing you this evening.”

No, I already don't like Henry! From the beginning I had a negative feeling towards him.

“And bring your cowboy with you!”

Of course she will bring HER cowboy🫠🫶🏼

“Is it that bad?” He asked quietly, unsurely, so unlike his usual confidant self.”

Like I said, I love how Jake is almost shy here🥹. Something that in the city of Maverick I don't think I've ever seen.

“You look beautiful tonight, Scout.”

Aww my heart!

“Jake offered you a hand as you stepped out of the carriage, and you took it, smiling at him gratefully.”

Aww his kind and sweet ways just for her are something I love madly🥹💞

“You let out a shaky breath before turning to Jake who was already looking at you with troubled eyes. When he saw the tears on your lash line, he looked up. If looks could kill, Henry would have been six feet under in seconds.”

So, I would already like to see Henry six feet under because the way he treated Scout is really hateful and disrespectful. Jake manages to stay in control and not jump on Henry? Scout turns to Jake for comfort? Jake tells her “Of course, pretty girl,” “Anything for you.”? Once again Jake stole my heart. I love how his gaze went from angry and cold directed to Henry and the moment he met Scout's eyes it became full of love and softer. But then, how dare Henry make fun of Jake for the work he does? Ooh, he's such a little man!

“Do you want to hear how I allowed my mother to mold me into a proper young lady despite how much I hated it? Or how I allowed myself to be pushed towards Henry by my father because the thought of disappointing him destroys me? Nothing would have made him happier than to see his daughter and his best friend’s son get married one day. He would have been so disappointed to know that I left and gave up the life he wanted for me. Not to mention my mother! She wanted me to be happy-”

This part broke my heart. I felt all her sadness and her frustration for the choices she was forced to make and follow to please others without ever thinking about her happiness. Poor Scout!

“It makes me happy,” he continued, “when you say I look handsome. It makes me happy when you laugh at something I say. It makes me happy when that nose of yours wrinkles when you scowl at me. It makes me happy when you let me hold you like this. It makes me happy when you let me feel and see all of you.”

“You make me happy, Scout,” he sighed. “You make me happier than I’ve been in a long, long time. I want to spend the rest of my life finding out all the things there are to know about you, and even then I’ll still want more of you.”

And immediately the pieces of my heart were put back together by Jake's beautiful words. Hearing these words must be truly wonderful. The fact that he said how Scout's little gestures towards him make him happy was so sweet! “I want to spend the rest of my life finding out all the things there are to know about you, and even then I’ll still want more of you.” This piece gave me goosebumps because of how beautiful it was. That's such a romantic thought!🥹😭🫶🏼

“Scout, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”

No, No, No, NOOOOO!!

Oh my gosh, just when Jake and Scout had gotten so close and Jake had said all those nice things to her, Henry comes along and ruins everything!

I love that the story gets more and more intriguing, but I have a feeling that there will be some pain in the next chapters. Anyway wonderful work, as always!💌✨

Don't Hang'em Til Noon: Chapter Seven

Pairing: Jake “Hangman” Seresin x Reader

Summary: Jake "Hangman" Seresin is a notorious leader within the Dagger posse of the old western territories of the United States. You, a recently orphaned socialite from the eastern seaboard, find yourself swept off to live with your older brother who has set down roots in said western territory. Determined to to make the best of your situation, what will you do when said outlaw sets his sights on you?

Warnings: Swearing, Reader having a crisis, Guilt, Shame, Jake Seresin. I think that's it?

Word Count: 5.6k

A/N: I am still so overwhelmed by how much you guys love this series. I never thought I'd make it this far, but here we are! As always, reboots, comments and likes are greatly appreciated!! 18+ ONLY!! Find me on AO3 under sailor_aviator!

Series Masterlist || DPU Masterlist

The house truly was a magnificent sight, even more so now that you had been away for so long. The massive, three story brick house sat perched behind an expanse of trees that shielded it from the road during the spring and summer months. Now, the trees were barren save for the patches of snow that laid on the branches. Jake smirked down at where you were fidgeting excitedly in your seat.

“What?” You asked him, squirming even more under his gaze.

He shook his head, smiling softly now. “Nothin’. Just seeing you so excited is cute is all.”

You blushed, refusing to meet his gaze. At that moment, the carriage stopped in front of the large steps that led up to the front door. An older couple stood at the base of them, smiling as they saw you. You reached for the handle, jumping out and rushing into the arms of the woman. She smelled of calming lavender, a scent that reminded you of your days as a child where you would run through the halls and sneak into her room to peak into her jewelry box. Her hands were gentle as they held you, cooing as you hugged her tightly.

“Aunt Jo,” you murmured into her shoulder, her hand reaching up to stroke your hair gently.

“It’s so good to see you, my darling,” she said, pulling back to look at you. An affectionate smile graced her lips as she looked you up and down. Your Uncle Walter stepped up to grab you from your aunt and wrap you in a hug of his own. He smelled of clean linen and the smoke from his pipe, a smell that reminded you so much of your father.

“How are you, my girl?” He asked you as he pulled back. You held onto his hands as you stared at the pair.

“I’ve been well, and so has Benji,” you smiled, hearing rustling from the carriage. Aunt Jo looked up, a curious smile instantly alighting on her face as Jake stepped down onto the cobblestone. You turned to see him just as he straightened up, glancing between you and your aunt and uncle. You let go of your uncle’s hands to gesture for Jake to step forward. “Aunt Josephine, Uncle Walter, may I present to you Jake Seresin.”

Uncle Walter stepped forward, reaching out his hand to Jake, which he took. The two men shook, Jake offering a polite smile while your uncle studied him closely.

“It’s an honor, sir,” Jake told him sincerely. The two dropped their hands, and you found yourself glancing nervously between the two. You weren’t sure why you were so anxious, but you felt a wave of calm as your uncle broke out in a smile, clapping Jake on the shoulder as he led him towards the house.

“Please, call me Walter, my boy,” he chuckled. “Come inside, you must be freezing in those clothes.”

You heard Jake let out a quiet sigh in relief as he allowed himself to be steered into the house, you and your aunt following close behind.

“There isn’t a lot of snow out in the desert,” you hummed by way of explanation as the tips of Jake’s ears turned a bright pink.

“No, I suppose there isn’t,” Uncle Walter laughed as the four of you made your way into the parlor.

“Benji’s clothing was just a bit too small for him,” you frowned, sitting down next Aunt Jo on the sofa as Uncle Walter gestured for Jake to sit in one of the armchairs. Jake glanced at you anxiously, and you smiled, nodding just enough for him to pick up on the gesture. He sat down carefully in the armchair as your uncle did the same. Jake’s green eyes darted around the room, taking in the ornate woodwork and expensive decor that your aunt and uncle seemed so fond of.

“That’s an easy fix,” your aunt said, smiling warmly at Jake who still seemed uneasy. You frowned at him, not understanding why he was so nervous. Your aunt and uncle were well off, yes, but they were kind people, practically saints when compared with the rest of high society in Baltimore. You knew Benjamin had prepped him on what to expect, but you supposed that he was feeling much like you had felt when first arriving in Maverick. It’s one thing to be told, it’s another thing entirely to experience firsthand.

“Of course!” Uncle Walter exclaimed, turning to the younger man. “We can go first thing in the morning and get you all sorted out.”

“Oh, I couldn’t-” Jake started, looking at you with wide eyes for help, but your aunt waves him off.

“Nonsense,” she said. “We insist. We’ll have to find something for you to wear in the meantime to help keep you warm. I think your cousin, John, might still have some clothing upstairs in his old room. I’ll have Michael fetch them for you, Jake.”

“I appreciate that,” the blond said quietly, watching as the old butler nodded at your aunt before turning and disappearing out the door.

“Now,” Aunt Jo smiled, looking between you and Jake. “The two of you must be simply exhausted from your journey. I’ll have the maids show you up to your rooms, and we can meet back downstairs in an hour for supper.”

“That sounds wonderful, Aunt Jo,” you grinned at her.

The next morning brought a sense of familiar comfort as you awoke in the lavish guest room. Fine furniture was scattered in different areas of the large room, and several scenic paintings adorned the walls. You had gotten dressed quickly, eager to start your day. Aunt Jo had told you that your best friend, Lucy, had been calling upon the house every day since word had arrived that you would be arriving back in town. Lucy was a cheeky redhead who you adored more than any other socialite in town, and you were excited to see her again after so many months apart.

You sat at the dining room table next to your aunt just as Jake walked into the room with your uncle. He wore a simple pair of wool pants and a brown jacket that looked to be about two sizes too small on him, but it would serve the purpose of shielding him from the cold. He sat down across from you, sitting at your uncle’s right hand.

“Good morning, my dove,” Uncle Walter greeted Aunt Jo, smiling fondly at her. She returned the gesture, resting her hand on top of his briefly before resuming her meal. He continued. “Jake and I will visit the tailor’s straight after breakfast. I’m sure it’ll take us most of the morning to get him situated with some things to wear. Scout, what are your plans for the morning?”

“I’m going to go have tea with Lucy,” you answered him simply. Jake looked at you, nerves once again showing themselves on his face. You gave him a reassuring smile before the conversation moved on to another topic.

Breakfast was finished quickly, and your uncle told Jake he would meet him by the carriage while he went to grab something from his study. You were putting on your coat when Jake grabbed your wrist. You turned to see his eyes searching yours uncertainly, and you gave him a puzzled look in return.

“Are you alright?” You asked him, a frown tugging at your lips.

Jake swallowed thickly. “What if…what if I do something wrong?”

“Jake,” you chuckled, “you’re going to buy a couple of outfits. You stand there as the tailor takes your measurements and then you pick out what ones you like best. What could you possibly do wrong?”

“What if I say the wrong thing? Or what if I insult someone on accident? Benjamin tried to help me prepare for what things would be like here, but I feel like a rattlesnake amongst coyotes. I just know I’m going to screw things up, and then I’ll make you look bad, and-”

“Jakey,” you cooed softly up at him, taking his hand in one of yours as you reached up to brush the hair out of his face with the other. His mossy green eyes darted between yours anxiously as you stared up at him with a small smile. “I’m fairly certain you could charm the pants off of a mannequin if you tried. Why are you so nervous that you’ll say the wrong thing?”

“I assumed you were a prostitute when we first met,” he said glumly, pout growing bigger as you giggled, thinking back to when you first met the blond in front of you.

“You did,” you agreed. “But I would hope you’ve learned your lesson about assuming things about other people and then voicing them.”

“Yeah, I have,” he muttered. “But I still don’t know what I’m doing.”

“I didn’t know what I was doing either when I first moved to Maverick,” you told him, smoothing your thumb on the back of his hand. “I was scared too, then. I didn’t know what to expect or how people would act, but I did my best. That’s all I expect from you.”

Jake smiled at you softly, squeezing your hand lightly.

“Besides,” you smirked, “rattlesnakes still have teeth to fight off the coyotes.”

Jake laughed at that, and you felt a flitter in your stomach at the sound. You heard footsteps coming down the hall, and you quickly pulled away from him just as Uncle Walter turned around the corner. He looked up, stopping in surprise when he saw Jake standing in front of you.

“You’re still here,” he said, causing the tips of Jake’s ears to turn bright pink yet again. You were surprised they hadn’t stayed that way permanently yet.

“I was just wishing Scout a pleasant time out with her friend,” he said quickly, Uncle Walter humming.

“Alright, well, let’s be off!” Uncle Walter grinned, clapping Jake on the back as he passed. Jake gave one last look your way, smiling as you offered him a small wave. You turned to grab your gloves from where you had set them on the side table when you heard someone clear their throat behind you. You turned around to see Aunt Jo looking at you knowingly, a hint of a smile on her lips.

“Jake is a very fine young man,” she stated. You felt your cheeks heat up, turning your attention back to your gloves in an attempt to distract yourself.

“He is,” you replied. Aunt Jo hummed, walking closer to you.

“He seems very taken with you,” she pressed. “And you with him.”

“I don’t have the slightest idea what you’re talking about, Aunt Jo,” you scoffed, suppressing the urge to roll your eyes. “Jake is just a dear friend.”

“Of course he is, dear,” she smiled. “However, there was only one dear friend I ever looked at that fondly, and we’ve been together for thirty years now.”

“Is there a point to this, Aunt Jo?” You blushed, unable to meet her gaze.

“No point at all, dear,” she hummed, barely suppressing her smirk as she waved you off. “Go and have a nice time, Scout. Give my warmest regards to Lucy.”

“You must tell me all about the west!” Lucy cried excitedly, practically bouncing in her seat. Several of the older patrons gave her nasty looks, and you placed a hand on top of hers to calm her down. You gave the other patrons an apologetic smile before turning your attention back to the redhead in front of you.

“Alright, alright,” you laughed. “What do you want to know?”

“How is your brother?”

“He’s staying busy. Won’t tell me what business he’s been dealing in, so don’t even ask. He bought one thousand acres of land to start a ranch on,” you hummed, sipping your tea. Lucy’s eyes widened.

“One thousand acres?” She exclaimed. “A ranch? What does Benjamin know about running a ranch?”

“I said the same thing,” you admitted, “but he’s surprisingly adept at it. It’s hard work, but it leaves one with a sense of pride to see everything that’s been accomplished at the end of the day.”

“I’m not surprised you’ve taken to life out in the west so easily,” she teased. “You always were a wild thing at heart. I don’t know if you were ever truly happy here.”

“Of course I was,” you argued, brow furrowing. “How could you say something like that? I loved my life here. I loved my family, my friends, my charities. I didn’t want to give any of that up.”

“Because you never had that twinkle in your eye that I see in it now,” she said softly, placing a hand over where yours rested on the table. “I know you loved all of those things, I do, but seeing how you talk about your new life? I can see now that you were never truly happy here. You always wanted to go and wrestle with the boys and you were never truly interested in things deemed fit for a ‘proper lady,’ and that’s okay!”

“You seem to have given this some thought,” you grumbled, and Lucy chuckled.

“I have, yes,” she nodded. “Your aunt has shared yours and your brother’s letters, and thought it breaks my heart to say so, it’s clear to me that out west is where you belong.”

“Oh, Lucy,” you murmured, fighting back the tears that threatened to spill over. Her smile quickly turned into a wide smirk as she leaned into you.

“Now tell me about this cowboy Benjamin mentioned in his letters,” she whispered. You nearly choked on your tea, coughing as you fought to regain your breath. Lucy patted you on the back gently until you gained back control of your airwaves.

“What about him?” You asked weakly.

“Is he handsome? Is he charming? Is he rugged? Does he have a gun? How wild is he compared to the other cowboys? What-”

“Slow down,” you laughed. “His name is Jake, for starters.”

“Jake the cowboy,” she mused. “What’s he do for a living?”

You took another sip of your tea with a snort. “What, is ‘cowboy’ not good enough?”

She glared at you, and you sighed.

“He’s working on our ranch.”

“How romantic,” Lucy sighed, eyes softening at the idea. “I’m sure he’s a vision walking around in leather.”

“Lucy!” You chided her, looking around to make sure no one saw. She giggled, but before she could say anything else, the smile dropped from her face as she glanced behind you. You felt a presence at your back, and you turned to see a familiar face.

“Henry?” You blinked in shock. Henry had been courting you before you moved to Maverick, and he hadn’t taken it all that well. He was a handsome man with dark hair and baby blue eyes. You had known him your entire life, much like Lucy, as your fathers had been boyhood friends. He had an air of charm about him that was outmatched only by Jake’s. Dimples framed the smile he cast down at you.

“It’s so good to see you again, Scout,” he greeted you. You gave him a thin-lipped smile back, casting an anxious glance at Lucy who was staring daggers into Henry’s profile. “I heard you were back in town.”

“I am, yes,” you replied stiffly. “Only for the holiday and then I’ll be heading back to Maverick.”

“A shame,” he hummed, sitting down next to you as Lucy scowled at him. “I was hoping this would be a more permanent arrangement. One that would benefit the both of us.”

“I have no intention of moving back to Baltimore at this time,” you told him curtly. His smile faltered, but he quickly regained his composure.

“I see, well you still have plenty of time to change your mind,” he chuckled. “I’m assuming I’ll be seeing you at Lucy’s party tonight?”

You shot a look at the redhead who’s scowl turned into a full-blown glare at his words. “I wasn’t aware she was having a party.”

“I was going to tell you about it as soon as we finished talking about more important things,” she hissed. Henry hummed, moving to stand.

“It was good chatting with you, Scout,” he smirked, taking your hand and placing a light kiss to the back. “I look forward to seeing you this evening.”

“I hate that man,” Lucy growled as he walked out of earshot. “I don’t know why you even entertained the idea of marrying him.”

You sighed, looking at her wearily. “You know why.”

“I do,” she admitted in a grumble. “That doesn’t mean I have to like it.”

“I don’t much like it either,” you replied. “But the past is the past. We should get going. You have a party to finish preparing for and I need to go get ready for it.”

“You’re right,” she murmured before perking up. “Be there by seven o’clock! And bring your cowboy with you!”

Your breath caught in your throat at the sight before you. You had asked Michael to make sure that Jake was ready to leave by 6:45, Lucy’s home not too far away from your own, but wanting to get there a little early. You had been dressed and ready to go five minutes before. You wore a long-sleeved gown, the dark blue top ending at your waist and flowing into a mossy green skirt. You wore a pair of emerald earrings and a small diamond pendant along with it, and your hair was pulled back into a simple, braided bun. You had forgotten how good it felt to dress up for social gatherings. You had been smoothing down the skirt of your dress when you heard footsteps enter the room behind you. You turned to look, and that’s when you saw him.

Jake wore a black waistcoat with a matching coat atop a pair of beige trousers. He held a hat in his left hand and a pair of dress gloves in the other. You knew you were staring, but you couldn’t stop. Jake fidgeted under your gaze, cheeks flushing as he waited for you to say something.

“Is it that bad?” He asked quietly, unsurely, so unlike his usual confidant self. You snapped your mouth shut, shaking your head as your own blush began to spread up your neck and onto your cheeks.

“No,” you stated. “No, you look very handsome.”

He smirked at that, walking to a stop just in front of you. “You look beautiful tonight, Scout.”

You felt your cheeks grow warmer, and you ducked your head.

“We should get going,” you murmured, glancing up at him. He stared down at you, eyes twinkling.

“Alright,” he said quietly, slowly moving to let you lead the way.

The carriage ride to Lucy’s was silent, and the two of you got there with plenty of time to spare. Jake offered you a hand as you stepped out of the carriage, and you took it, smiling at him gratefully. The head butler greeted you at the door, taking your coats before escorting you to the parlor where several people were already gathered. Lucy spotted you and walked over to you excitedly.

“You made it!” She grinned, taking your hands in hers. Her eyes darted behind you, widening when they saw Jake. “Is this the cowboy?”

He chuckled behind you, taking her hand and in his to shake it. Lucy gasped at the gesture, shooting you an awkward glance. “Jake is just fine, miss.”

“And Lucy will do just fine for you as well,” she smiled. She gestured for the two of you to make your way farther into the room. The two of you followed her, and Jake leaned down to whisper to you.

“What was that reaction about?”

You leaned up slightly to answer him. “It’s polite to let the lady initiate the handshake,” you whispered back at him. He hummed, following dutifully as Lucy came to a stop beside the fireplace.

“Scout, you remember Diana and Andrew?” She said, gesturing to the pair of brunettes by the mantle. The Barclay twins were a pretty pair. Andrew stood half a head taller than Diana, but the resemblance was uncanny. Big, dark brown eyes stared at you and Jake as they took you in.

“Of course,” you smiled at them. Diana smiled back at you while Andrew nodded. “It’s been too long.”

“It has, hasn’t it?” Diana drawled, looking around. “No brother of yours?”

“I’m afraid not,” you responded politely. Her eyes turned to the man behind you.

“And you might be?” She smirked, reaching out her hand to Jake. Jake took it, giving her a polite smile.

“Jake Seresin.”

“Seresin,” Andrew hummed. “I’ve never heard that name. Where do you come from?”

“I was born and raised in the New Mexico territories,” Jake said. The chatter died down as the partygoers looked on in intrigue.

“A cowboy?” Someone asked, and the whispers started up across the room.

Jake chuckled, slipping into his charming persona as he let his eyes wander around the room. “Y’all make it sound much more exciting than it actually is,” he drawled.

“Scout?”

You stiffened at the voice, turning to see Henry approaching you from the far side of the room.

“Henry,” you acknowledged him, feeling Jake’s eyes dart between the two of you. You grabbed a glass of wine from the side table, needing something to take the edge off of what you were sure was to come and also needing something to keep your hands occupied. You chanced a glance at Jake who was already frowning at the man before you. Henry stood before you dressed in his evening best as he looked you over, giving a nod of approval that had you suppressing an eye roll. You settled for pressing your lips into a thin line instead.

“I’m glad you could come tonight,” he smiled, and you wondered how you ever considered it to be swoon worthy once.

“Of course,” you hummed. “It’s Lucy’s party after all.”

“Yes,” he said, turning his attention to the blond behind you. “And who’s your friend here?”

“Jake Seresin,” he said coolly, eyeing Henry up and down. Henry did the same before extending a hand out.

“Henry Cargill.”

The two men shook hands for a brief moment before letting go.

“So,” Henry began, “how do you know Scout here?”

“I work on her and her brother’s ranch.”

“A ranch hand?” Henry chuckled, brows darting up on his forehead in surprise. “What a charming profession you have, sir.”

“What is it you do?” Jake asked him with a narrow of his eyes.

“Me?” Henry clucked. “I’m working at my father’s bank. One day I’ll inherit it.”

“Something he reminds us about all the time,” Lucy chimed in with a vicious smirk towards Henry, who looked mildly put out by her comment.

“There’s no shame in what a man has,” he sniffed, looking back at Jake. “Especially when he’s looking for a wife.”

“How exactly do you and Scout know each other?” Jake asked, causing another wave of whispers to break out amongst the spectating crowd. You frowned as Henry guffawed, throwing his head back.

“You call her Scout?” He grinned, causing Jake to frown in confusion.

“Doesn’t everyone?” He asked, glancing down at you uncertainly. You glared at Henry as he continued.

“No, my friend, they do not. Only close friends and family call her that, and you don’t seem to me to be either,” he smirked.

“Which category do you fall under?” Jake asked with a raise of his eyebrow. Henry’s smirk became almost triumphant as he puffed his chest out.

“Neither,” he stated proudly. “Scout and I are practically engaged.”

Jake whipped around to look at you as the murmuring grew around the room. You slammed your glass down onto the table before fixing Henry with a venomous look. “No, we are not.”

“We were courting until you left all those months ago,” Henry reminded you, but you weren’t having it.

“And I’ll remind you that nothing came of it,” you spat. “You never proposed, and I left to move west. What’s done is done.”

“I’m surprised you feel that way after everything,” he frowned. “What would your father say?”

You stilled at that, and the room fell silent. You felt the prickle of tears behind your eyes and you blinked furiously to try and hold them back. You let out a shaky breath before turning to Jake who was already looking at you with troubled eyes. When he saw the tears on your lash line, he looked up. If looks could kill, Henry would have been six feet under in seconds.

“I know we just got here,” you said quietly, holding the tears back by sheer force of will, “but I’m suddenly not feeling well. Would you escort me home?”

Jake turned back to look at you with a soft expression, glancing over by where Lucy stood. You saw her nod slightly, and he looked back at you.

“Of course, pretty girl,” he murmured. “Anything for you.”

The two of you departed from the house, and the carriage ride home was filled with a much different kind of silence.

“Scout,” Jake murmured, reaching out to you, but you shook your head.

“Don’t,” you sobbed, finally letting the tears flow. Jake hesitated. “Please, just don’t. Not right now.”

The two of you said nothing more until you walked into the house. You handed your coat to one of the maids who looked after you worriedly as you made your way towards the stairs.

“Goodnight, honey girl.”

You stopped halfway up the staircase, your heart clenching tighter in your chest. You thought back on Henry’s words and their meaning. You turned to fix Jake with a forlorn expression, and you saw him gasp at the sight. You stared at each other for a few moments before you offered him a timid, watery smile.

“Goodnight, Jake.”

You crouched in the snow, inspecting the indented trunk of a tree. It had been a week since the night of the party, and you had thrown yourself into charity events and social gatherings, effectively leaving Jake to spend time with Uncle Walter and Cousin John. The two had made plans with some of the other men in their social group to go out hunting, and you had been invited along with some of the other wives and sisters.

“What’s it look like, Scout?” John called over to you. You straightened up, turning around to face the hunting party.

“Looks like beavers,” you replied, turning to peer into the trees. “We should set up some traps along the river. I saw some fresh deer droppings not too far back as well. They probably haven’t gone far.”

“It’s a shame that child wasn’t born a man,” you heard one wife murmur to another. You frowned. You knew your skills were practically wasted on you, you certainly heard it often enough. Your father had never made you feel inadequate though, rather he encouraged your gift for tracking and hunting. He took you out as often as he could, showing you how to set different traps and the best way for stalking prey unnoticed. You had always enjoyed doing it because it was time spent with the man you loved most. The one who made you feel safe and encouraged you to pursue your interests and wants.

“Impressive as always, Scout,” Henry called from off to the side. You ignored him, making your way quietly into the woods. You stepped quickly but carefully as you moved deeper into the trees, listening for any sound amongst the stillness. You heard a twig crack behind you, and you turned to see a whitetail deer picking at the patch of frozen grass to your right. You slowly brought your rifle up to the crook of your shoulder, taking aim at the deer. Another twig snapped to your left, startling the deer who took off. You whirled around to see Jake looking at you sheepishly, hands raised as you glared at him.

“Dammit, Jake!” You cursed. “That was a perfect shot!”

“Sorry,” he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. The tip of his nose was beet red and his cheeks were close to matching. You imagined he must be miserable out there in the snow. You huffed as you looked after where the deer had run off. If you hurried, you could probably catch back up with it.

“Scout.”

You turned back to look at him, seeing him frown at you with a worried expression. You raised an eyebrow at him, signaling for him to continue.

“I wanted to talk to you about the other night,” he began, but you shook your head.

“There’s nothing to talk about.”

“Scout,” he started again, and you let out a frustrated groan, feeling your control begin to snap.

“What do you want to hear Jake?” You snapped. “Do you want to hear how Henry and I have known each other our entire lives? How our fathers were best friends as kids?”

His eyes widened as you began to stalk towards him in your rage.

He cut you off. “What makes you happy?”

“What?” You blink up at him, just then noticing the tears that were falling down your face.

“What makes you happy, Scout?” He asked you again quietly, studying you. You stared up at him, taking in the different hues of green that made up his eyes, the quiet sincerity they held.

“I don’t…” You trailed off with a frown. Jake took a deep breath.

“I’ll tell you what makes me happy,” he murmured, moving closer to you so that the puffs of your breaths intermingled. “It makes me happy when I beat Bradley and Javy at darts. It makes me happy when I feel the wind in my hair as I ride Whiskey. It makes me happy knowing that you moved to town all those months ago. It makes me happy when you chew my ass out the way I deserve instead of swoonin’ over me like all the other girls do.”

You sobbed out a laugh, and he smiled softly, resting his forehead against yours. He reached up to cradle your jaw in his hands, wiping the tears away with his thumbs.

You blushed at that, and he closed his eyes with a hum, gently swaying the two of you from side to side.

He opened his eyes, meeting your gaze with a mixture of desperation and stoicism.

“That’s what makes me happy,” he whispered, pulling away from you. He moved past you, walking to join back up with the hunting party. You stared after him, feeling now more than ever, torn between duty and happiness.

The hunting party returned to your aunt and uncle’s house a few hours later. John shot the deer in the end. You had been lost in your thoughts the remainder of the day, and if anyone noticed your sudden change in mood, they didn’t mention it. You started making your way up the staircase to change into your evening gown when a hand caught your wrist. You turned, frown deepening when you saw Henry.

“Scout,” he smiled up at you from a few steps down, “might I request your company in the library for a moment?”

Your eyes flickered to the other guests who were gathering their things to leave. You nodded at him slowly before turning fully to follow him to the library. You looked over once more as you hit the base of the stairs to see Aunt Josephine watching the two of you with a slight frown. Henry led you to the fireplace at the far end of the spacious room before turning to you and taking your hand in his.

“Scout,” he began, “I know things haven’t always been the best between us, but like you said, what’s done is done. And you’re right, I didn’t propose to you back then, but I’ve had your father’s blessing from the start, and when I found out you were coming back to town, I asked your uncle for his, and he gave it. So, Scout…”

He dropped down to one knee, and your eyes grew wide, a sinking feeling twisting in your stomach as he pulled out a large, diamond ring. “Henry-”

“Scout, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”

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heavenunderthemoon · 4 years ago

Text

Ten Fingers, Ten Toes: JJ x Male Reader

Sent in anonymously: Reader and JJ are married and he works for the fire department. They have to work together for a case with an arsonist. While visiting the suspect's house, he smells gas and tells JJ to be careful. As they slowly approach the house the suspect has a gun to their head with the cooker on. JJ tries to calm the unsub down but it doesn't work so he points the gun at JJ and the reader tackles him from behind before pushing JJ out of the house before it blows up."

disclaimer: I have NEVER written anything x male reader before so please, please, please be gentle with me.

warnings: fire, explosions, injuries, violence, angst.

Words: 5,589

It was rare that you and JJ ever met up on duty. So rare, in fact, that it just hadn't happened. In your ten years of marriage, it hadn't occurred even once. Arson charges in Quantico weren't rare, there just weren't that many serial arsonist charges for the BAU to pick up, and even so, your fire station wasn't in the districts that it had occurred the three times JJ's team had been called. But, this time was different.

The BAU arrived in its usual fashion, two separate government-issued SUV's, black and shining, dark as the soot that no doubt remained on your face from this morning's bout of firefighting. It had been a tough one, ventilation becoming a bit risky when your team noticed the roof was easily collapsible, but Station 13 had gotten the job done, as they always did. Your hands paused in their movements of shifting debris when the doors on the SUV's began to open, one of them revealing a rather familiar blonde figure, their bright blue eyes scanning the scene rapidly.

You smiled, knowing what the agent was looking for.

Letting out a low whistle, you made your way to the woman who's shoulders instantly relaxed when she saw you, eyes lingering on the damage done to the place. You knew precisely what was going through her mind, simply because it often rang through yours.

You both worked dangerous jobs, one running into fires and the other chasing down psychopaths who had a penchant for murder. Worrying about your spouse practically came with the marriage license. It had been something discussed extensively on both ends before you had gotten down on one knee all that time ago, asking for her hand in marriage. But, despite the multitude of reasons not to and the fears of what would come forth in the face of it all, there was a singular reason that made you both forget the rest; "I love you", You had said when she had asked, a shrug that told her how simple of an answer it was, but the look in your eye telling her that your love for her wasn't simple at all. Not really. It was convoluted and complex and deep and consuming and that was enough for her. That was more than enough for her.

So, each day when you went off to fight your fires and she went off to fight the monsters, you both reminded each other of that, of that love, that feeling of taking a leap, praying for a happy ending in which you both came home alive each night just to do it all again in the morning.

Except, now, here she was, and here you were, both of your battles being condensed into one.

"The calvary's arrived." You praised with a smirk.

Her blue orbs, intensified by the dreariness of the burnt surroundings, glanced over your body.

God, those eyes. Those eyes that you had fallen in love with, fallen so extremely and irrevocably hard for. Two glistening, gleaming, and just about every other synonym for glistening and gleaming under the sun, orbs that were like two little tiny pools of water. Water, a bit ironic given your occupation of fighting fires, but water all the same. Except, it wasn't exactly water, because you didn't think of water when you saw them you just thought of JJ, and that feeling you got around JJ. That fuzzy feeling in your chest, that dizzy feeling in your head and that tingly feeling in your legs that made you feel like you couldn't walk. The eyes that elicited those feelings were on you, checking for damage, scanning for injuries.

The turnout gear still laid heavy on your figure, but you stood tall beneath the weight of it all, accustomed to the sheer mass that it added. It was covered in ash, and stitched in tightly woven thread on your coat's breath pocket was your name. "Captain Y/N L/N", it read.

JJ remembered how you had received that promotion last year, the ceremony that Henry and Michael had tottered along to, how you had hoisted Henry up on your shoulder, Michael on your hip, insisting that your wife come by your side for a picture, one she cherished dearly. It sat in her wallet now and the weight of it in her jacket pocket felt heavier now for some reason.

When her eyes came back to your face, she frowned, her fingers coming up to rub your cheek. "You look like hell."

Worry. That was the look on her face, scanning the remnants of the house that had recently been ablaze but was now just smoldering ash. Your team packing things up as JJ's got to work, picking their way through the remains, asking Station 13 questions so to jump start their investigation.

"Thank you, darling, I just got back." You quipped cockily and she rolled her eyes, a twitch of her lips to indicate that she wasn't all too irritated with you, really. Just for show.

Her hand dropped, landing in her crossed arms as she faced the house, eyes narrowing as she entered her work mode, something you found rather amusing. You had rarely seen JJ in her work mode, and she you. You both liked to keep those versions of you separate, tucked away in the attic space of your minds, dirty blemishes to be hidden when around each other not because you were hiding secrets but because your demons, both of your demons were just something you needed to fight alone. The ghosts that followed JJ home after cases, whispering in her ear, nipping at her heels and the flames that engulfed you after calls, burning your eyes, searing your skull.

"So, what happened?"

You nodded, settling into work mode yourself. "We got the call around 5:30 am, house fire, one alarm. Family was asleep in the house, barely had time to notice anything was wrong before it was up in flames-"

"Carson family." She breathed, eyes flickering to you sympathetically. "Are they-"

"Alive and stable." And for a moment your chest swelled with pride. It hadn't seemed a possibility that morning, for the entire family to walk away as fortunately as they had. Sure, their entire house was gone, vanquished in nothing short of forty-five minutes, but their lives, each and every one of them, had been saved and it had everything to do with your team. A flash of that morning, the little girl in your arms, the mask around her face- your mask that you had taken off and given to her, just to give her lungs a few moments of relief- and her fingers clutching your turnout coat as you carried her out of the burning building. Those were the moments you lived for, the moments that made you proud for the occupation choice. "The parents got the worst of it, third degree burns, smoke inhalation damage, but nothing that the hospital can't fix. The kids are fine, I heard their grandparents are staying with them at the hospital until their parents are given the all clear."

She nodded, a bounce of her blonde hair. "That's good."

"It is," You nodded, motioning for her to follows you as you began your walk to the west wing of the house. "We thought it might've been a freak accident, faulty wiring or maybe a gas leak from the stove, but one of my guys found this." The two of you stopped, her shoulder lightly grazing yours.

Her eyes followed the gesture your hands made, landing on an object on the floor. There, covered in soft and ash, discarded on the floor of what used to be a beautiful two story home, was a bottle, its liquid remains only droplets now, the cloth poking out of it burned to shreds.

"Make-shift Molotov cocktail? You're sure?" She bent down, pulling on a latex glove and picking it up cautiously, turning it around in her hands before signaling one of her guys to come a grab it.

You had met the team, of course, you knew them quite well actually. Derek nodded at you, the two of you sharing a brotherly pat on each other's back before he was grabbing the evidence, scooping it into a plastic bag.

"Yep. When I saw it I called you, figured it might be the beginning of a string of fires."

The blonde sighed. "Smart call." There was something else in her voice, concern, stress, everything in between, and your own eyes narrowed, something that made her chest flair with warmth.

She never had to say anything. She didn't have to say that getting your call at seven in the morning, a time she usually spent feeding the boys before turning them over to the nanny who would inevitably be relieved at the end of your twenty-four hour shifts but was interrupted by that incessant ringing.

You had changed it from the default ring almost two years ago.

"What are you doing?" The blonde had laughed, reaching for the phone you had swiped out of her hands but you held it above you head, your figure towering over hers and her laughter had made the chuckle rumble in your throat just the way she liked it.

"I've gotta change it, so you know it's me."

You had fixed her with that stare, the one she knew you gave your team, the "I'm the Fire Captain and you have to listen to me" stare, though you knew it had never worked on her. To her, she said, it looked like you were constipated, but it always made her roll her eyes with that shit-eating smile, so you did it anyways.

"Yes, because in a world with Caller I.D., I will never know it's my husband." Tired of standing on her tippy-toes, she had slumped against your chest defeatedly, taking in your warmth, listening to your heartbeat as she listened to you choose that god forsaken song that she knew that you knew she hated- one that you two had fought over its validity as a song on one of your first dates when it came on in a sandwich shop.

"I'm Henery the Eighth I Am..." Played from the woman's speakers and she groaned, hitting her forehead against your chest in a playful headset that had made you roar with laughter.

"Perfect."

It had been that terrible, dreadful song, the song that would always remind her of you that interrupted her morning and made her heart stop because you never called her on shift unless something was wrong. Unless the fire had nipped at you a little too roughly, unless you were sitting in a hospital bed getting patched up. She had answered that call with a dry throat and almost forgot how to breathe until your voice telling her you were okay reached her ears. "I'm okay, but I think you should see this."

And now, at a time she should be focusing on her job, focusing on telling Aaron Hotchner what her husband just told her, focusing on the family that had luckily made it out unscathed, she wasn't. She was focusing the man before her, her man, her Y/N.

She was focusing on you because for once she was seeing your world, your world past the nice and cozy firestation that she had seen before, polished and clean. That fire station you had showed her on one of your days off, giving her a tour, silently telling her that you were okay, that you were always going to be okay. Now, she was seeing your team, people she had met before but now under your authority, placing all the gear they had used meticulously back into the rigs, and you, covered in soot with that look in your eyes. That look that made her hate you and fall back in love with you every time. The look of a hero. Because heroes are the ones who run into the burning buildings not away and the thought of you running into a burning building, somewhere you would go and not come back and leave her and Michael and Henry in the lurch made her sick to her stomach.

And you saw that.

"Hey," You said softly, noticing that far off look in her eyes. "Hey," You repeated once you noticed she hadn't responded the first time, lightly grabbing her shoulder. "I'm fine. We're all fine. Look," Your eyes were boring into hers, those baby blues that your sons had inherited because, god, they were spitting images of her and it was something you reveled in. Your fingers wiggled out of the gloves, ripping the other off and wiggling your newly exposed fingers to the woman. "Ten fingers, ten toes. I'm good."

It was silly, something you two had always recited, a mantra of sorts, when one of you injured themselves. A tiny little saying, one that said "I'm still alive, I'm still kicking, and you're not getting rid of me that easily", without saying it at all. Picking her up from the airport after she called to tell you of her injuries, her small smile at the concern that would always be evident on your face no matter how many times she assured you. And she would take your face in her hands, make you look her in the eyes.

'Ten fingers, ten toes.' She would say with a playful smirk, wiggling them against your cheeks and you would smile, resting your forehead against her and now she did the same. A sigh on defeat or relaxation or maybe just a release of a breath she didn't know she had been holding.

She looked at you, eyes narrowing playfully once more. "You're cheating, I can't see your toes in those boots."

You laughed, that hearty rumble she adored and the two of you set to work.

Everything would be fine.

Everything was not fine.

"Are you mad at me?"

Frozen grass crunched beneath your feet. It was a cold day, winter still biting at Spring's heels and the brisk air was enough to make you wish you had more cover than the leather jacket slung over your shoulders. And if you were cold you knew JJ was (The girl was raised in a warm climate and basically declared it was winter anytime it hit below seventy degrees.). A quick glance to the blonde- who was apparently very cross with you at the moment- met you with a rather terse look, her lips pursed, eyes forward as she surveyed the side of there house, gun raised before her.

The last day and a half had been spent working hand in hand with the FBI.

It was almost like a game. The BAU spent their time assessing the victims, analyzing patterns, attempting to predict where the arsonist might hit next, though it was a game of cat and mouse because they hadn't perfected it, not yet. And your Station was getting called, putting out every fire just to jump to the next and when the team had finally determined a suspect, JJ was declared to be on the group to survey their house, it hadn't even taken you a moment to suggest your team join as well.

'Fire safety,' you had told Hotchner, 'Wouldn't it be safer to have us by your side in case he gets set off?' and much to JJ's chagrin, he had agreed. The fire rig itself was set up two blocks away, lights and sirens off, just waiting to be called upon, your team inside of it.

That was one of the perks of being Captain, you supposed. Calling the shots, getting to pick and choose when you ran into the fire, delegating your skills to the most high-priority situations and, yes, while you told your Station that the high-priority you were attending to was a possible additional fire as you approached the arsonist's house, they all knew the real reason. They knew it was the blonde by your side, no matter how angry she was with you.

"Okay, so you are mad at me." You nodded at confirmation of your previous question, one that had gone unanswered, and were met by a sharp glare before her eyes were back on the house.

The neighborhood itself was rundown, an area of town about to be lost to construction, properties being seized by the government, one of the arsonist's assumed triggers. His house was one of the only ones left on his block, sagging defeatedly on the corner of the street.

The other pair, Spencer and Derek, from the BAU crawled amongst the property, paired off and speaking into their walkies, both of them attempting to see inside of the house, cautious of how to approach.

"I'm not mad, I'm focusing."

You snorted. "Well that's funny, 'cause your focusing face and your mad face have a hell of a lot in common."

It wasn't a moment longer before she was huffing, pausing in her movements before tossing a glance to you over her shoulder. "Stop messing around, Y/N-"

"JJ-"

Her state was almost as cold as the weather. "No, this is serious. There's a killer in there and you're out here joking around-"

"JJ-"

And her gun was lowering itself for just a fraction of a second, eyes fixing you with that stern gaze of hers that she normally used with the children but still managed to make you feel just as intimidated as they probably did when it was used on them.

"You volunteered to come with us to catch a serial killer-"

"I know-" You tried, but you knew that look in her eye, that rise of an octave. The tone that let you know that she wasn't mad, she wasn't angry, she wasn't even furious, she was terrified.

And damn, you hated that. You hated that she was terrified, because you were terrified too. You had been ever since Hotchner had told her, Spencer and Derek to check out the possible unsub's house. Ever since those words had left his lips it was as if your mind had gone blank, something JJ would claim it perpetually was, but it wasn't. Usually, your mind raced about a million miles per hour, never slowing, never seizing, except for that moment, that moment that had made your stomach drop and throat clog. That moment that had you volunteering to go with her without hesitance because you were scared, scared because this was what she did on a daily basis and yes, while you thought about it, talked about it, and apparently had gotten over it long ago, you hadn't really because this wasn't just something you got over.

Having your wife chase serial killers wasn't something you could just be okay with and if you were given an opportunity to go with her, to watch over her, to look out for her, god damnit you would.

"You chose to put yourself in danger. It's different when it's your job, but, god damn it, Y/N, you don't have to be here-"

And whatever she was going to say next was interrupted, the porch light flickering on, that dim yellow bulb cackling under the sheet of ice it was buried in. The back porch became illuminated, revealing a broken rocker chair, it's left arm chair giving way due to mold or rot, caved into the smooth seat of the chair. It sat limply on the porch, those floorboards creaking in the winter wind and the two of you froze, her gun rising.

"Stay here."

Under different circumstances you might have laughed.

Under different circumstances, you might have thrown your head back and let loose that deep, throaty laugh that JJ always said was contagious.

But you didn't. You couldn't.

You couldn't help the dumbfounded expression covering your face, watching as your wife, your best friend, the mother of your children, began to climb the stairs of a serial arsonist, demanding for you to stay put. You couldn't help that swell in your chest, a swell of anger, no doubt, not at her, because you had known precisely what kind of person she was when you married her. You had known the minute you had met her in that crowded, smelly bar, the both of you both coming back from a long day at work, her tired eyes meeting yours and that wicked smile pulling you in.

You had known from just that first look that she would be hard work. And she had proven that every step of the way. She had proved that by demanding a background check before you two officially went on your first date (that first night in the bar didn't count, she said matter-of-factly.), or by all of her weird quirks and tics. Like, for instance, if you got her skittles she would patiently wait while you picked out all the green ones (They taste like toilet bowl cleaner and the longer they're in there with the other ones the more the taste will rub off on the good ones). Or that how if she vacuumed she absolutely had to have precise vacuum lines (if they weren't perfect, she started over, no matter what.). Or even how she set seven alarms in the morning, snoozing each and every one because she knew eventually you'd get too agitated by the constant interruptions to your sleep that you'd wake her up with your groans and force her out of bed far better than any alarm ever could.

You had known that she would be hard work, yes, but you also knew that she would be worth it. Every smile, every kiss, every laugh, all of it. And so when she told you to stay put you could hardly reign in your outrage enough to keep your voice to a hushed whisper.

"No, I'm coming with you." And your foot began to raise, began to make its way onto that creaky, rotted, in need of a paint job floorboard of a porch before JJ was stopping you.

"No. You might be a Captain, but out here, I call the shots. Stay here and don't do anything stupid." And she was slipping into the back door before you could grab her. Before you could pull her into your arms and stop her.

And you were alone, alone with only the porch light flickering every so often, threatening to give way, that snow underneath your boots clinging to the soles of your shoes the longer you stood there.

How long had you been standing there, staring at the back porch door? You wracked your brain, trying to remember if JJ had said anything to Reid and Morgan about going into the house? Had she called for backup? You wished you had a communication piece on you, wished you had some way to make sure that JJ wasn't in there alone because, yes while you trusted her wholeheartedly, you didn't trust a batshit crazy arsonist who had started a string of fires.

Your nose twitched, snapping you out of your thoughts.

What was that smell? That smell, sharp to the nose, stinging your eyes, making the back of your neck hairs stand erect-

Your feet were moving, moving carefully and efficiently, trying not to make a noise but trying to get into the house as quickly as possible.

Gasoline.

That was what you could smell. You had smelled it a million times before, and this smell was no different, except it was. It was different. This time was a million times worse than any other time you had smelled it because JJ was inside the house. She was inside the house that reeked of gasoline, inside a potential explosion, and you needed to get in there as quickly as possible and so your hand was pulling not he back door and you were lurching inside the house.

"Trevor, I just want to talk, okay? Put the gone down-"

The back door let into the dining room, the inside of the house looking just as dilapidated as the outside of the home. Family pictures were strewn about the walls, each hanging just as crooked as the next. The glass was covered in dust, so much so that the pictures weren't even recognizable underneath, and the roof tilted at a downward angle so threateningly low you worried it might just collapse with the mere addition of your body inside it.

You could hear voices beyond the wall of the dining room, JJ's first, and it made your heart beat a little less frantically (though that wasn't;t saying much because right now you were pretty sure your heart was doing a line dance), and then the unsub's- Trevor.

Your hair brushed the wall as you peeked past it, clinging to that wall like it was a lifeline and in that moment it was. In that moment, it was the only thing separating you and the man pointing a gun at your wife.

When you saw the scene your throat struggled to contain the bile rising at the sight of it. Trevor stood nearest to you, his back to you completely, in fact. A dirtied t-shirt, one covered in scorch marks and ash hung loosely on his figure. He was small, smaller than you had imagined an arsonist to look like, which, you supposed arsonists don't particularly have a look, but still, he didn't look...evil and you had always supposed that bad guys looked evil. But this one didn't. No, other than his dirtied shirt he looked like a normal guy, except, of course, for the gun pointing at his temple.

There was a clicking sound filling the air, that familiar clicking sound that made you divert your attention to the stove, confirming your suspicions immediately. The gas was on, leaking it into the house and your head was already beginning to ache at just the smell.

And then there was JJ.

She noticed you immediately and she made a damn good job of covering that. Briefly, her eyes met yours, and you didn’t need words for you to understand. There was rage at you for following her, guilt because somehow she thought this was her fault, gratefulness because maybe she wouldn't have to leave here in a body bag and fear because what if your children grew up without both of their parents?

"Trevor, listen to me-"

Her voice was steady. How was her voice so steady?

"No! I'm done talking to you bitch!"

And just like before, just like when Hotchner was ordering JJ to go to the unsub's house, time slowed. Time slowed, and it became a long, torturous, eternal moment that made your mind wipe straight clean once more because there was really only one thing that could make it do that and she was standing right in front of you. The girl that had seen you from across that crowded bar, a bar that she later said was disgusting and dirty and made her boots stick to the floor, but would always pull you to because it was sentimental and they made good burgers. The girl who had answered your marriage proposal with "What took you so long?", which, would've been acceptable had your proposal not been asked three months to the day when you met her (Hey, when you knew, you knew.). The girl who talked through movies, beat you in poker, ate all your fries when she said she wasn't hungry and just a million other things that you hadn't even known you remembered until that moment when suddenly her very being was being threatened.

That girl was having a gun pointed toward her, and so you reacted.

Your body tackled the man before you easily, causing you both tp fall tp the ground in a jumble of limbs and grunts and the gun wasn't leaving his hand so easily but none of that mattered because you saw your chance.

You saw your chance for one more tackle and damn JJ was going to be extremely pissed at you, but it didn't matter because you were doing it before she could even register your movements to protest it. Your body slammed into hers, twisting your body in mid-air, preparing it for the impact it would surely take through the boarded up windows that were about to become a bit more open than before.

The wood splintered across your back, your head throbbed at the hit, but you barreled through just as you heard Trevor yell and, stupidly, predictably, unfortunately, he shot and as soon as he did, the heat from the bullet related to the gasoline in the air.

Your bodies hit the snow in record time, yours on top of hers, and the sheer heat from the blast was enough to make you never want to hear the words "Liar, liar pants on fire", again.

Breathing. Breathing and sirens and ringing, a horrible ringing in your ears that was quickly subsiding and a pulsing through your head that was not. You peeled yourself off of her with a grunt, your back landing roughly next to hers, the snow quickly clinging to the back of your jacket.

The two of you stayed that way for a moment, just a moment, because you both knew Derek and Spencer were just around the corner and if they found you two lying on the floor their first reaction would be to think you were both dead (partially because of your position on the floor and partially because of the fact that your left eyebrow was singed off and you were pretty sure your head was leaking out some blood onto the blanket of snow beneath you). In that moment, that tiny brief moment, your hand grasped hers, squeezing it, before sitting up with another groan.

She looked...like crap. Her hair was wet and frizzy, nose red to the bone, cheeks covered in dirt of ash, wood littered across her bulletproof vest, and her pony tail had loosened to the extent that half of it was just pouring onto the side other face. But she still looked beautiful to you.

“You did something stupid.” She said exasperatedly, reminding you of the last thing she told you not to do before leaving you alone but it hardly registered to you.

"I had to." You said quietly, so quietly that your ringing ears even had trouble hearing it but the squint of her eyes let you know she heard you just fine. "Earlier, you said I didn't have to be here."

You were not a quiet man. You just weren't. You were loud and brave and funny and JJ had always adored that about you but she loved these moments too. These moments where you were quiet, reserved, and afraid, because it showed her that you weren't just some pompous meathead charging into fires irresponsibly. It showed her that even the bravest of the brave get scared, and that fear was what would stop you from making a decision that would leave her in a world without you.

Her eyes softened. "You know what I meant-"

Your bottom lip quivered, hands going up to attach themselves to her cheek, just to feel her, to know she was real, that she was there, that she was alive. "I cannot lose you. I know that you do this everyday, and I know that you are good at your job, and I know that you probably had it handled back there, but damnit JJ, I was scared, okay? I'm sorry, but I was scared and I needed to be here, I felt it in my bones, okay? I just-"

All of the emotions from that night. All of the anger, the fear, the adrenaline, all of it left you, left you in the sob that had formed in the base of your throat, leaving you feeling hollow and empty as the world passed around the two of you. You could barely register your team rushing into the building, the hose spraying into the house, JJ's team approaching the two of you, because it was just you and her. You and her, and that was all that mattered to you.

Her hands clung to yours, piling atop her cheek and embracing the warmth it gave her, leaning in to let her forehead touch yours, your salty tears falling into her cheeks but she didn't say a word about it.

"I can't lose you." You repeated it again and it sounded so small, so lost that JJ was locking her eyes with yours.

"You didn't." A pregnant pause, a lick of her lips, a small beginning to a smile that looked so wrong given the state of her surroundings, and a tiny breath let out. "Ten fingers, ten toes."

Her thumb was reaching for your cheek, swiping the pad of it across it, clearing away the remnants of the tear that was trailing down the side of your face and then following it with a kiss, a small peck at where the tear once stood.

"Ten fingers, ten toes." You exhaled.

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Hope you enjoyed:)

-Toby

#jj x reader #jennifer jareau x reader #jennifer jareau #Jennifer Jareau x male reader #criminal minds x reader #Criminal Minds

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antebellumite · 6 months ago

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I HAVE GOTTEN TWO LIKES AND ONE RESPONSE WHICH I WILL TAKE AS A YES, SO:

(Current thoughts on this outline are: I really don't know what to do about Abe's pre-existing father. How DOES Abe gets elected as a Republican in this scenerio. And LincPolk is the ship of the new year blaze it. )

BOOK ONE: GOOD FEELINGS

We begin in 1824. As Adams, Crawford, Calhoun, Clay, and Jackson campaign for the presidency, rumors begin circulating in the (jacksonian?) press on John C. Calhoun’s illegitimate lovechild

(Abraham Lincoln, born in 1808 to a bartender who Calhoun seduced before cruelly abandoning her, and forcing her to run to the WILDERNESS WEST in order to escape HER SHAME. At a tragic age, she DIES in POVERTY, leaving her poor orphan child (incidentally, Calhoun's child) with a cruel stepfather, all while her lost love has forgotten her in his SELFISH BID FOR DEMAGOGUERISH POWER.)

(Whether this is true or not doesn't matter. The point is, the American people believe this.)

As these rumors circulate, Calhoun finds concerned about effect what these allegations might have on his Presidential bid, as well as his general political and personal life, Calhoun decides to take it upon himself to clarify and end these rumors...

By uhhh adopting this presumed child of his.

( This fic is told by the perspective of Lincoln. We never learn if JCC really was Lincoln's dad or not.)

The point is, JCC takes a train to Kentucky and before you know it, 15 year old Abraham Lincoln is brought into Washington DC as Calhoun’s newly adopted son, Calhoun has concocted some intellectual skirting to rehabilitate his image, and all accusations are dropped once Calhoun accepts Vice Presidency from Andrew Jackson ( and Quincy).

Abe meanwhile is having a very hard time adjusting to what as far as he knows is a very Confusing Kidnapping situation.

( look he doesn't hate Not Having To Live In A Log Cabin And Being Able To Actually Read Books Now but he also didn't ask to be kidnapped away from his family and sister? Like HELLO?)

Things spiral, your average Calhoun family drama now Heightened, electoral college shenanigans as Calhoun attempts to bond with Lincoln by shoving him in front of a lot of Important Political Figures, which has mixed results ( Lincoln does make a good impression with our dear friend Henry Clay though, which seems a win! ( for now)), more.

Good News: Unlike his bastard father, Lincoln is much better at Holding Conversations with People than his father is, which helps if your dad's as insufferable as Calhoun, which incidentally also helps Calhoun.

Bad News: Calhoun severely misjudged the ease of which a Abe can integrate into Washington City, which does not help Calhoun. This isn't Abe's fault of course. Our protagonist was literally in the process of becoming a Wrestling Champion when he was thrown into Washington!

But that's something that they'll have to work towards.

John C. Calhoun as Quincy's VP ends up heightening Lincoln’s sudden prestige as he continues trying for his education, adapting to Washington life, missing his sister and stepmother, and slowly becoming a devoted pro-Clayite as Corrupt Bargain charges spring up, to Calhoun's growing chagrin.

After significant bartering and psychological warfare, Abe finds a way to get Calhoun to get Sarah Lincoln to Washington City too. Things continue at a fun, notable, pace, as Abe and Sarah further have their jolly adventures in the city, as Abe gets more and more drawn to Henry Clay and his growing political ideology, and Sarah I'm tempted to say grows closer to the Jacksonians and Martin Van Buren instead.

They both grow more in tune with their respective political ideas, and a few months after Abe reaches his 20th birthday, he decides that now is the time for him to move to ILLINOIS, tearfully saying goodbye to Sarah, Mr. Clay, and Mr. Calhoun, please write! And off he goes.

Meanwhile, the Tariff of Abominations is passed.

BOOK 2: GROWING DISCONTENT

The next few years consist of Abe jollily writing letters to his family, getting them back, working in a general store, working as a bartender, failing at getting Elected, entering a war, making several friends including Joshua Speed, getting his heart broken, and keeping up with the Whig news.

This lasts until 1832.

( yes everything I just listed occurred within a ~5 year period)

Mustered out ( of the Black Hawk War), Abe decides to go to Washington DC, where he finds out that Calhoun has left.

And uh, yeah, everything else.

Including the fact that JCC might get murdered by Andrew Jackson.

For the whole Nullification Thing. And the Treason.

Which sucks!!!

So, after engaging briefly with Mr. Clay and Mr. Clayton ( who share very same names for such different men), Sarah (luckily one of the few spared from the Eaton Fallout and I'm going to offer that she's best friends now with Sarah Childress Polk because I think that'd be fun) and Mr. Webster (after the Webster-Hayne debates, which sucks, because if Abe knew that these debates were taking place, he'd have rushed here to hear), Lincoln leaves for South Carolina.

Which also sucks.

So Abe does not have a good time transversing the southern states trying to find his adoptive father. Partly because of the Political Tension, partly because now he's seeing slavery in action and really isn't fond of the brutality of it ( You know who else isn't fond of it, Abe???), and partly because the environment is really triggering his fight or flight instinct.

In the worst family reunion ever, Abe meets Calhoun at a Fort Hill meeting discussing South Carolinian armed resistance. Robert Hayne is there, which is nice. Robert Rhett is also there, which is less nice. Floride, Anna Maria, and Andrew are also there, which is fine, but Abe's suddenly realizing that his original plan of ending the Nullification Crisis by forcing his father to just agree with Andrew Jackson's terms for now...

Really isn't going to work.

Anyways. Nullification, states rights, slavery, secession ( and here I assume someone kicks Rhett out a window) leaves a bad taste in Abe's mouth. After saying his Goodbyes, Lincoln returns to Washington, where he works alongside Clay and the Whigs to make sure Calhoun does not find himself Hanged when he returns as Senator.

We know what happens here. Calhoun returns, Force Bill, Compromise, yada yada. Abe gets increasingly frustrated as he really wants to go back to Illinois but Nope! He has to stay here and make sure that his dad doesn't die. Meanwhile, he reconnects with the Washington socialites he left off five years ago.

Benjamin Brown French is here now, which is great!

With Calhoun saved, Lincoln is relieved, but he finds himself increasingly disturbed by how his father is now turning gears as a champion of South Carolina, states rights, and slavery. Besides, as a Whig, Lincoln finds himself increasingly drawn to Clay’s beliefs rather than Calhoun’s, which is fine while they're allied but soon... it's obvious that Calhoun's going to break away.

Lincoln returns to Illinois. Disillusioned by his father, he runs for Illinois State Legislature (1834) where he meets Ms. Mary Todd... and Stephen Douglas.

The Liberator spreads to Lincoln’s ears, and Lincoln grows even more antislavery. The gag rule causes slavery to be inflamed in Congress. Calhoun breaks with the Whigs over the sub-treasury debates and gives his Slavery is a Positive Good speech. Lincoln and Mary Todd grow closer. and they marry...

....Just as Elijah Lovejoy is murdered.

And cut.

BOOK 3: RAIL AND IRON

Five years have passed. In 1843, Mary and Abraham have married with Robert Todd Lincoln, who was just born.

In a move of Alternate Universe handwavium I'll chalk up to the connections Lincoln no doubt made in Washington City, Abe enters the HoR as representative of the 7th district of Illinois. He’s appointed to the Committee on Post Office and Post Roads and the Committee on Expenditures in the State Department.

In the house, we meet old faces, John Quincy Adams, Henry Wise, Benjamin Brown French, and new faces, William Seward and Joshua Giddings, a bit of Henry Clay, Daniel Webster, and the Tyler Administration.

Giddings and Lincoln attempt to pass a bill to abolish slavery in the District of Columbia which fails, but it does garners him attention from JCC again.

Yes, they've been estranged for a almost a decade. No, things are not normal between them. Yes, Abe would be more than glad to introduce Calhoun to his grandson once Robert Todd arrives. Yes, Sarah Lincoln is still a prominent Jacksonian and she informs Abe that she and Sarah Polk are planning for a James K Polk nomination once the Tyler Administration ends. No, Abe is not an abolitionist, he just can't vibe with *gestures to Calhoun's everything* whatever this is. Anyways, I heard Anna Maria's doing well, how's Andrew by the way?

Anyways, things resume, Lincoln spends most of his time back home in Illinois to enact internal improvements, patch up the rails and road systems, and to avoid Calhoun. This comes to an end when USS Princeton explodes and whoopsedoop, Henry Wise now boasts about getting JCC in office of Secretary of State

Lincoln, as part of the Committee on Expenditures in the State Department, finds himself in a very Unfortunate and Concerning Situation of looking into Calhoun's (State) finances. When Mary and Robert Todd come to Washington DC, Calhoun's glad to meet them ( not in the least because Mary's family are southerners who are sympathetic to Calhoun which might bring Calhoun's wayward son back on track!)

Aside from all this, Abe takes the chance to get to know some of Calhoun's acolytes. There's Rhett, Secessionist Prodigal Son Number One. There's Yancey, Secessionist Prodigal Son Number Two. There's RMT Hunter, who's Calhoun's favorite (apparently). There James Mason, who's Calhoun's other favorite (apparently). And there's Varina Davis, who Calhoun seems to like way better than her ugly ass groom (Jefferson Davis). None of our dear Calhounite friends know quite what to do with Lincoln. And frankly, Lincoln doesn't know how to deal with them besides Ignoring the Elephant in the Room, no, not That Elephant, the Other Elephant.

But alas, now is not the time to ponder one's daddy issues. Lincoln is determined to fight against any possibility of war. His time in Congress is marginally successful as he supports a few bills regarding tariffs that influence Illinois, going back to his state constantly for inner-state politics.

As this is occurirng, with the help of Sarah and Sarah, Polk is running as a dark horse candidate against Clay-which is the first time a serious political divide has occurred between the Lincoln siblings. As the Lincoln-Calhoun connections begin to be brought up once more (how couldn't they, it's Calhoun) Lincoln supports Clay, and prepares for a re-running in 1846, when Eddie Lincoln is born.

Yes.

We are playing close to IRL as we possibly can.

Relationships with JCC remain tense. JQA dies, I like to think maybe Abe becomes close with RMT Hunter alongside Alexander Stephens, make things fun.

Things get....divergent once Polk wins the election.

Long story short, the Wilmot Proviso passes thanks to him and Sarah Lincoln.

As the war ends with a restriction on slavery, Lincoln realizes that Clay won’t be winning. He supports Zachary Taylor for the Whig nomination in 1848, where Lincoln becomes appointed Commissioner of the United States General Land Office just as he has hoped, aiding in surveying/platting/selling off the new free land of the Wilmot Proviso.

It's a dream come true! Abe's achieved his Political Goal, a Whig is President, and Slavery has been Cornered with the Wilmot Proviso! Huzzah-

Book 4: FIRE IN WINTER

1850. The Compromise of 1850 is in full swing with several changes and alas. The South demands more land since they’ve been barred from the West thanks to the Wilmot Proviso. JCC is dying. Disunion is imminent and only one man can save this country... Henry Clay Stephen Douglas.

The Omnibus/Compromise consists of five parts: Fugitive Slave Act, banning of the slave trade in Washington City*, approving California as a free state**, popular sovereignty for Kansas-Nebraska (repealing the Compromise of 1820)***, and the chopping of Texas into three different states****.

*but not slavery

**California still finds a way to use slave labor.

***yes we are kicking Blood Kansas up a few years.

****I was struggling to come up with Five Plans

It's not a good year. Eddie dies. Clay is dying. Calhoun is dead. All of this leads to grief and unhappiness for all. Everyone has depression and Washington City is not making things easier. Willie is born. Lincoln wants to retire and resume lawyering but instead he's here watching things spiral and his father figure dying.

Lincoln's def. around for JCC's eulogizing in Congress, but I can't say if he goes down south to see the actual funeral. If he does... best of luck to him. At least AMC and TGC aren't trying to rip him apart.

Lincoln probably would get along with the AMC/TGC kids. The cool uncle to AMC's strict parenting style. BOOK 5: DAWN

1850s: Abe’s lawyering is working well, I'm not going to summarize everything that occured during his lawyering days-- wikipedia already does that. He grows closer to the Republican movement (how does that work out for the adopted son of Mr. Slavery is a Positive Good himself? who knows. I trust Lincoln's political genius to figure something out.)

For the next eight years, the abolitionist movement grows, Lincoln became a leading Republican in Illinois, and alas, scrutiny means that he has to cut off on communications with Stephens and Hunter. Goodbye buddies. Tad's born in 1853 and everything is stable and not going to hell in a hand basket at all.

Meanwhile, in the Wider United States, things have been helling in a handbasket for a while now.

The outcome of the 1850 Compromise, Bleeding Kansas, is in full swing, Charles Sumner gets caned, outcries ensue, Anthony Burns and Dred Scott and John Brown doing his thing.

I assume that during this entire time Lincoln supporters are fighting for their lives trying to get their man on the Republican ballot without bringing up JCC's name.

Anyways. Lincoln-Douglas debates for Illinois Senate because we can't miss them.

Moving past that, Presidential Campaign time! Luckily, not everyone in this country cares too much about human rights, so Abe gets to keep Pennsylvania on account of the Tariff Question, and the West, the North is somewhat harder but there's help ( Sarah's here too and helping her brother become President! I am limiting the amount of Lincoln tragedies in this universe to approximately two!!).

No hope for the South, they're tied between-

"Hey, you know what would be REALLY funny???"

- William Lowndes Yancey & Robert Rhett, 1850, secretly promoting Abraham Lincoln for President because it'll help them secede and also because hey. Hey.

On a level of 1-10 how bad is this scandal? 10000.

In the private frontier, the Lincoln family is getting torn apart by the whole IMMINENT SECESSION thing. AMC and Mary’s southern family are excommunicating Abe which makes Thanksgivings awkward once they're declared a national holiday. And Abe finds himself getting close to being blown apart both by proslavery men and also by his own base for the whole 'he got endorsed by secessionists???' thing.

Seward-Weed Ex Machina don't worry through the power of New York organization and iron rule, all things are possible, though, and Abe emerges through the skin of his teeth.

Thanks a lot, Guys. It took ~30 years but Abe's finally starting to get genuinely irritated.

Ah well, the Confederacy Begins, the Southern Representatives leave, James Buchanan Gets Eviscerated, and I'm chewing on an idea where there's a scene where Lincoln maybe has some meeting with Rhett and Yancey and the secessionists who congratulate him on winning the Presidency.

And there's something in the scene which is a metaphor for Lincoln finally casting the shadow of JCC behind him, vowing to preserve the Union, while cutting slavery away if he must. Who knows, this won't ever be written lmao.

But that's it for now.

After this is an epilogue showing the the tentative beginning days of the war, with Lincoln juggling his Presidential responsibility to keep the Union together, the Confederacy, his Cabinet, his life with Mary, slavery, and the Radical Republicans.

I'm sure he'll do fine.

sooooo does anyone want my outline for an 'abraham lincoln is john c calhoun's illegitimate kid' fanfic?

#abraham lincoln #fic ideas #john c calhoun

11 notes · View notes

panwriter · 3 years ago

Text

I posted 3,789 times in 2021

14 posts created (0%)

3775 posts reblogged (100%)

For every post I created, I reblogged 269.6 posts.

I added 2,680 tags in 2021

#reanimator - 636 posts

#hearteyes motherfucker - 316 posts

#the tudors - 307 posts

#saw franchise - 256 posts

#game of thrones - 252 posts

#disney - 244 posts

#desperate housewives - 202 posts

#otp - 184 posts

#house of wax - 153 posts

#elder scrolls online - 130 posts

Longest Tag: 43 characters

#bark bark woof grrrr aaaaawooga hubba hubba

My Top Posts in 2021

Thank you to @margoblack for the tag!

1. what do you prefer to be called name-wise? Syd or Pan.

2. when is your birthday? May 23. Early Gemini.

3. where do you live? Ontario, Canada. But fuck do I wanna live somewhere else.

4. three things you are doing right now? Vibing to music, cleaning my drafts and queue, waiting for @brilliancetheory to come back so we can watch Desperate Housewives

5. four fandoms that have piqued your interest? Re-Animator, Jeffery Combs, Desperate Housewives, Dragon Age.

6. how has the pandemic been treating you? Had to move back into my toxic household but on the bright side I’m watching my parents abusive relationship crumble and decay from the front row so lmao.

7. a song you can’t stop listening to right now? Shaxicula by DJ Cummerbund followed closely by Hayloft by Mother Mother

8. recommend a movie. Re-Animator. Please. I promise its good.

9. how old are you? 21 going on (mentally) 57

10. school, university, occupation, other? Currently in college for Office Administration. Yes I like to file.

11. do you prefer heat or cold? See, I prefer the heat, but my body prefers the cold, but my lungs prefers a perfect middle and nothing else. So I just say I like fall.

12. name one fact others may not know about you. I, the asthmatic, played Bass Clarinet. If you know you know.

13. are you shy? Eh, depends.

14. pronouns? Recently discovered genderfluid here so She/He. Don’t really like they (no hate obvi, just doesn’t feel right for me).

15. biggest pet peeves? Getting told/taught to do something that I already know -stares at my college classes-

16. what is your favorite “-dere” type? Yandere. Yes I have trauma.

17. rate your life from 1 to 10, 1 being crappy and 10 being the best it could be Uhhhh 5. Highs and lows rn.

18. what’s your main blog? This one, but I have many dead RP blogs floating around out there. Try and find me.

19. list your side blogs and what they’re used for. I got no side blogs.

20. is there something people need to know about you before becoming friend? I don’t shut the fuck up. Have fun.

Tagging: @yoshla , @vinterskald , @zhongluong , @xnaitomea , @violasmirabiles , @rhysmeyers , @sweet-as-battery , @mongoose-king , @tealcoloredglasses

4 notes • Posted 2021-03-01 23:23:37 GMT

tagged by: @vam-pyr thank you sm I live for these <3

why did you choose your url? I’m pansexual and I’m a writer who will explore almost anything. Play on words. It’s my brand now (people end up calling me Pan, like the Greek Faunus, which I love bdhjfds)

any side blogs? Nope but I do have old RP blogs floating in the abyss and I have had side blogs in the past.

how long have you been on tumblr? Since 2010 or 2011 I think. This is not the blog I joined on, that one is long deactivated. This is actually my third personal blog (and hopefully my last).

do you have a queue tag? Nope but I do use my queue a lot.

why did you start your blog in the first place? Originally I joined tumblr because it looked like a fun social site. Why I made this specific blog? My old one got hacked and swarmed with porn bots

why did you choose your icon/pfp? Herbert West is the love of my life that’s why.

why did you choose your header? Reanimator is my current hyperfixation

what’s your post with the most notes? This post exposing some loser trying to catfish me over Henry Cavill discourse

how many mutuals do you have? 17 lovely peeps <3

how many followers do you have? 56. I used to have thousands on my first and cursed personal blog. I don’t really care about followers but its wild that I had that many back then.

how many people do you follow? 175. I try to clean it out once and a while.

have you ever made a shitpost? Many, thats most of what my yep thats me tag is lmao.

how often do you use tumblr everyday? I check it whenever I’m bored, so about once a day at least.

did you have a fight/argument with another blog once? Yes. Real People imaginers/one-shoters are gross lol.

how do you feel about “you need to reblog this”? I used to fall for that shit when I was a wee lad, but now I scroll past or will straight up delete that reblog if I actually like the post

do you like tag games? I love them even tho it takes me some time to get to them. Please tag me.

do you like ask games? I love being Perceived

which of your mutuals do you think is tumblr famous? @vam-pyr for sure

do you have a crush on a mutual? Nah

tagging: @elvenasscheek , @violasmirabiles , @sweet-as-battery , @gottliebbs , @shakyhandsshakybones , @xnaitomea

5 notes • Posted 2021-08-16 13:29:27 GMT

If Samwell Tarly was conventionally attractive, not only would people ship him and Jon out the wazoo, but they would actually fucking talk about how good of a character Sam is.

19 notes • Posted 2021-09-22 16:28:10 GMT

Here’s my edit of Bo that Brian himself liked

139 notes • Posted 2021-08-27 17:46:50 GMT

238 notes • Posted 2021-10-19 01:22:37 GMT

Get your Tumblr 2021 Year in Review →

#my 2021 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review #yep that's me

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inkandpen22 · 4 years ago

Text

Somewhere (1/?)

Pairing: Sirius Black x Female!Reader

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1.7k

Series Summary: Based in the early summer of ‘78, tonight Y/N is celebrating her 18th birthday. Her protective older brother and their friends take her out dancing. She envisions the perfect night!

A/N: In this story, muggles are aware of the wizard world. The series is based on West Side Story and POV switches between Sirius and Y/N. The red dress is based of the Saturday Night Fever red dress btw lol

Masterlist

Reader

While business slows down in the boutique, I hurry along on finishing last-minute tasks before the weekend. The goal is to get all of these orders done before closing.

“Hey, Lauren?” I shout for my best friend as she finishes stocking up the backroom for the weekend.

“Yeah?” She calls distantly.

“Could you bring me two of those navy cardigans when you come back out?” I recite, looking over the shipment list in front of me.

“Sure thing!” She complies.

Today is my eighteenth birthday. To celebrate, my older brother, Brady, is taking me out to the disco with our friends. It’ll be the first time I can go out to a club and drink. That’s not the most exciting part of today either! I’m officially an adult, a functioning, independent, member of society. My brother and his friends will no longer see me as the youngest who’s in constant need of looking-after. Brady has always been overprotective, but Lauren has tried to help convince him that I can take care of myself. Lauren and Brady have been dating since they were in high school, almost five years now. They’ve graduated from college and Lauren is eager to be married. In my opinion, it’s only a matter of time. I can’t see either of them with anyone else. Plus, I already consider Lauren my sister.

Lauren appears out from the backroom with a bright grin as she joins me at the register counter. “So, are you excited?”

“Yes! It’s going to be so much fun!” I gush, practically bursting. “Finally after four years of watching you guys go out with me, I can join!”

She gives me a knowing look, “did you ever end up showing your brother that dress you picked out?”

I bite down on my lip, pretending to return my attention to the order sheets in front of me. I can already hear her reprimanding, Brady’s too when he sees the bright red off the shoulder dress I picked up yesterday from the shop down the street. The fact that it’s off the shoulder will go over like a led balloon.

Lauren’s jaw drops, “Y/N!”

“I know, I know,” I sigh, trying my best to avoid a lecture. Moving around to the other side of the counter, I head to the office with the order sheets.

Lauren follows on my heels, “he’s never going to let you go, especially if you step out of your room in that dress and those matching heels you bought!”

“But it’s my birthday!” I plead, turning to face her with puppy-dog eyes. “My eighteenth, the most important one! It’s my first night as an adult.”

Lauren sighs defeatedly and I continue to express a poor, pitiful, pout. I can tell she’s on my side, but she also doesn’t want to go against her boyfriend. I understand her predicament, yet then again, my brother can be unreasonable too.

“I’ll see what I can do,” she offers, rubbing her temples stressfully.

I jump up and down, pulling her into a hug. “Thank you! Thank you! Oh, thank you!” I repeat profusely. If Brady is going to listen to anyone, it’s her.

“Ah, ah, ah, don’t get excited just yet,” she parts from me with a stern expression. “Your brother won’t be happy. I will vouch for you, but it’s up to you to stay in line. Tonight is your chance to really prove to Brady that you’re not a baby anymore.”

I nod my head frantically, “yes, yes, of course! Tonight will be perfect! Promise!”

Lauren narrows her eyes with a smirk, unconvinced. She hums, taking the sheets of paper from me to put them in the office.

Tonight will be perfect! I can feel it. I’ve been waiting for this night ever since I can remember. After tonight, everything will be different.

____________________________________________

Reader

As I listen to my Gloria Gaynor record, I stare at my reflection in my full-length mirror. More specifically, I admire the red satin dress that hangs off my shoulder. It’s everything I imagined it would be. As I think about it, it’s funny, I don’t feel any older, I don’t look any older, yet I feel different.

Over the music, I hear a series of knocks on my bedroom door. "You coming, Y/N?” Brady calls from the other side. “Lauren and the others are here!"

"In a minute,” I announce, lowering the volume of my music. “I have to do my makeup!"

"You look fine as you are!" My brother insists as I hurry into my bathroom. "Besides, someone is really excited to see you..." he insinuates.

"I have to look immaculate,” I argue, rushing to put on my makeup in front of my skin. “Plus, Jay can wait!"

Working as fast as I can, I follow a makeup tutorial Twiggy did for Cosmo. It’s crucial I perfect my eyeliner and large lashes.

"We're just going to the disco," he huffs, growing impatient. He would never last as a girl.

"It's my eighteenth birthday!” I remind him. “It's the first time I can drink and actually go into a club. Let me do what I want!” I then shoo him away, "go entertain your friends downstairs!"

"You have ten minutes!” He announces as a form of compromise. "Everyone's waiting for us!"

Mouthing the words to Gloria’s latest album, I’m practically dancing already and we’re not even at the disco yet! If only tonight could last forever. I want to ponder every minute, every second because tomorrow will be just another day and the magic will be gone.

Sirius

James stopped by my apartment to go over things for his wedding to Lily, but I have other plans.

"A disco?" James repeats with a frown, rolling over to lay onto his stomach on my bed. “And why would we want to do that?”

"Muggles really love them!” I tell my best friend as I move about my bedroom to get ready. “Plus, it’s the start of summer! We are officially Hogwarts graduates, what better way to celebrate!”

"Why can't we just go to a bar in Diagon Alley?" He reasons.

"You'll like this place, promise! Muggle music…” I struggle to describe it. “It’s unlike anything I've ever heard before!"

"But muggles are so... mundane,” he shakes as though he just caught a chill at the thought of them.

"I invited Remus and others too," I mention, certain that'll help convince him to come.

"At least we'll know people, I suppose," he shrugs, at least now considering the idea.

"Just give it a chance, James. Watch, after tonight you're going to want to spend every night of our summer holiday there!" I predict, nearly positive it’ll happen.

"Oh alright,” he complies with a huff, rising up from my bed to get ready. “I guess we don't have anything better to do," he grumbles on his way to the door. "Plus, we won't have to worry about any Death Eaters joining in on the fun."

Reader

I hurry down the stairs, to join Brady and his friends, Jay, Adam, and Henry, in the living room. The boys and their girlfriends have already started drinking while listening to some Queen in the background. They’ve gathered around on the couches and armchairs as they’ve done countless times before and after going out together. My brother is the only one standing, leaning against the fireplace mantel with a glass of scotch. Brady is the first one to notice me enter the room, he takes in my appearance in a scan of his eyes and waves me over. Clenching his jaw, he downs the remainder of his drink.

“What are you wearing?” He asks rhetorically, wasting no time to reprimand me.

“A dress,” I sass.

“Cute,” He remarks sharply, not finding amusement in my response. “Go change, now.”

“Oh come on, please,” I beg, taking his hand pleadingly. “It’s not that revealing and it’s my birthday!”

He shakes his head, pointing toward the steps. “Go, hurry up.”

“One night! One night and I’ll return it first thing tomorrow!” I negotiate.

He glances between me and his empty glass, twirling around the leftover ice cubes, clearly debating whether he should accept my offer.

“Please…” I mutter, pouting dramatically to get a rise out of my brother.

He huffs and turns to the group. "Alright!” He shouts to gain their attention.” All eyes shift to me and my brother. “Jay, boys, I need to keep an eye on Y/N,” Brady commands of his buddies as he wraps an arm around my waist protectively. “It's her first night out and the last thing she needs is uninvited attention, especially from wizards," he mutters the last part with disgust.

I look up at my brother in confusion. “Do you think they'll actually go to a human club?" I ask him, the idea never once crossing my mind.

Wizards don’t really interact with us. In fact, they’ve created a whole other system and lifestyle apart of our own to avoid us. Different schools, stores, forms of government. I would imagine they have discos of their own.

Lauren steps forward, "they're actually considered human-"

"Lauren!" My brother barks, causing his girlfriend to bite her tongue.

"That's debatable," Brady’s best friend, Jay, grumbles disdainfully, focusing on the drink in his hand.

Henry and Adam hum in agreement, looking at Brady like he’s a preacher.

"If we do see some, just stay clear, okay?" Brady orders strictly. Based on the sharpness of his stare, I best not test him.

"How will I be able to tell?" I mumble, having only seen a wizard once or twice my whole life, at least consciously.

According to Brady, and the others, wizards have the uncanny ability to appear normal just like us. However, in recent years, there’s been trouble amongst the wizard race. There’s a group of wizards who want their society and ours to be completely separate. My family and Brady’s friends are quite fond of the idea. In fact, most people are too. It’s such a frequent topic in the news, in addition to the tensions surrounding it, that I’ve grown annoyed by the dramatics.

"Believe me, you'll know,” Brady assures. “They're so dependent on their magic that they can't help but use it."

"Okay, I will..." I mutter, wondering if I’ll truly see magical-beings tonight.

_________________________

Masterlist

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crackheadgeminibby · 4 years ago

Note

So my birthday is tomorrow/today (its 2am july 19th) and i was wondering if i can request a Chris evans x black reader or henry cavill x black reader(im not too sure if you write stuff about him) and nothing angsty im too sensitive for angst thanks

birthday surprise

pairing: chris evans x black!reader

warnings: language, age gap, teeny tiny angst maybe?

word count: 1.5k

i do not consent to my work being copied in any way, shape or form or reposted on any other platform

not my picture

You were freshly out of school when you were hired as an assistant to the head makeup artist on the set of Captain America: The Winter Soldier. Most of the time, you were tasked with making touch-ups on the main cast during filming. This had given you the opportunity to get to know Chris more than you ever thought it would.

After the wrap party, Chris had suggested he give you a ride home as you had been drinking and the night ended with you two kissing. After that, Chris and you had agreed to try and take a slow shot at a relationship together. As everything was going great, you had moved in with him in Los Angeles.

When the Coronavirus outbreak happened, you were working on the West Coast and Chris on the East Coast, so you had both decided that it would be better for both of you to quarantine separately as an effort to keep you both healthy, as much as you missed each other.

As you worked on different new makeup techniques at home, when Chris’ birthday passed, you had planned a whole day of Facetime celebration that had gone beautifully well as you both enjoyed yourselves.

Today is your birthday and as you know that Chris has his hands full with the launch and reception of A Starting Point, you had told him that you didn’t want to do anything big for your birthday: a simple Facetime dinner would be special enough for you.

You had decided to just relax all day and, later, get ready for your virtual dinner date with Chris. You left for the grocery store around 6pm as Chris and you had agreed to start cooking together at 7:30pm.

However, it was almost 7:30pm and you were stuck in the cash line of the grocery store. You were starting to get impatient as the man presently paying for his groceries was taking his sweet time to flirt with the cashier. You were about to ask him to hurry up when your phone signaled an incoming message.

baby🥰, 7:29pm:

Hey princess, are you ready?

You bite your bottom lip and answer.

you, 7:29pm:

baby i am so sorry i’m stuck at the grocery store and this idiot in front of me won’t hurry up

can we facetime at 8 instead?

You look at your screen closely as you see the 3 dots pop up and disappear at least 3 times until they disappear permanently.

Shit. He’s mad at me. On my fucking birthday. That’s just a fucking great-

You’re taken out of your anxiety rabbit hole by the cashier calling you over. You stuff your phone back in your pocket and hurriedly finish at the grocery store to make your way home.

As soon as you park your car, you hurry to get all the groceries inside the house. You throw the front door open and slam it shut as you drop your groceries on the floor of the kitchen and head to the office to get your computer and facetime Chris. As you’re about to pick your computer up, you stop in your tracks.

“What the fuck?”

You head back into the dining room in which you swear you just saw Dodger through the window. You stop at the door of the dining room when you see that the whole table is completely set up with ten plates each covered by a metal cover. You frown, turn around and are about to go in the backyard when you knock your head into a muscular chest. You look up and see Chris sporting the biggest smile you’ve ever seen while looking as handsome as ever in a black suit. Your eyes widen as a smile forms on your face and you immediately wrap your arms around him.

“Oh my God, Chris, what the hell are you doing here?”

He chuckles at your reaction and says, “Well, I certainly couldn’t leave my baby alone on her birthday now, could I?”

You smile and hug him even harder.

Dodger then comes barrelling through the house and starts jumping up to try and get your attention. You let Chris go and kneel next to Dodger, petting him.

“Hi there, bubba. How’s my best boy doing?”

You hear Chris whine and see him pout as Dodger starts to lick at your hands. You wink up at Chris and laugh as he crosses his arms across his chest. You get back up and turn to look at the table again.

“Chris… I can’t believe you did all of this for me. Really.” You turn around and look at him, smiling. “Thank you so much.”

He takes you back into his arms and whispers, “You’re welcome, princess.”

You give him a kiss on the cheek and look between the table and him, “Guess I should go get dressed up, huh?”

After taking a quick shower, you look in the closet for a dress capable of matching the ambiance that Chris had set in the house: classy and elegant but relaxed. You decide on a dress that you had gotten for a red carpet that you had attended with Chris.

You head to the dining room and find Chris already sitting at the table. When he hears you come down, he gets up and adjusts his suit.

“My God, Y/N… You look so beautiful.”

You feel the heat rush to your cheeks as butterflies swim in your stomach; Chris never failed to make you feel this way.

Chris comes to you, gives you a chaste kiss on the lips and pulls out your chair. You sit down and smile as he heads to the opposite side of the table and sits down.

Chris had prepared a five-course meal consisting of bruschetta, a French onion soup, a Mediterranean salad, Fettucine Alfredo and a chocolate mousse for dessert.

As you’re finishing your chocolate mousse, you can feel Chris’ eyes on you. You slowly look up at him and smile,

“You okay?”

He smiles back at you and scratches the nape of his neck before answering, “Yeah, I just like looking at you.”

You feel the heat fill your cheeks again as you contemplate his answer and tilt your head back to your dessert. He continues to look at you and smile as he says,

“Why don’t you go choose a movie for us to watch while I clean this up?”

You nod, get up and make your way to the living room. You turn on the TV and start browsing Netflix when you hear,

“Hey Y/N? Can you come to the kitchen for a second, please?”

“Yeah!”

You head to the kitchen and confusedly frown when Chris is nowhere to be found. You start to turn around and say,

“Chris? Where are-”

You stop in the middle of your sentence when you see Chris in front of you, on one knee with a black, velvet box in his hands. You choke on your breath and whisper, “Oh my God…”

“Y/N. Ever since the first day I met you, I knew that you would have an impact on my life. I didn’t know exactly when or how, but I could feel that you were going to completely change my life. You have been my better half for almost 6 years now and I couldn’t ask for anyone better. You have helped me understand the true meaning of happiness. There are a million reasons why I love you but the ones that, without a doubt, make me question why it took so long for our paths to cross are that you are smart, you are talented, you are literally so funny, you are loving, you are compassionate, you are the most beautiful woman on this planet and you make me a better person. The greatest gift that you could ever give me would be to allow me to wake up next to you, every day for the rest of my life.” He now opens the black box and reveals the prettiest diamond ring you have ever seen.

“Y/N Y/L/N, would you do me the honor of marrying me?”

By now, you could only see Chris’ blurry silhouette as tears were pouring out of your eyes and down your face. You’re at a complete loss for words as you continue to cry your eyes out. Chris starts to breathe heavily and becomes anxious as you don’t say anything or move at all for the next minute,

“Y/N?”

Hearing him say your name again seems to reactive your brain as you rapidly nod your head and your voice cracks as you answer,

“Yes, Chris. Oh my God, yes!”

Chris’ smile returns as he removes the ring from the box and slides it on your finger. He gets up and immediately crashes his lips to yours. He passionately kisses you as he picks you up, bridal style. Chris looks down at you, smirks and asks,

“What do you say we consummate this proposal or, you know, whatever it’s called?”

You laugh and nod your head as you kiss him again.

Chris really had the best birthday surprises.

#chris evans #chris evans x black!reader #chris evans x reader #chris evans imagine #chris evans fanfic #chris evans x black reader #chris evans x female reader #chris evans x woc #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans fanfics

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spine-buster · 5 years ago

Text

The President Wears Prada (William Nylander) | Chapter 2

September 9th, 2019

Aberdeen Bloom was late.

“I’m late I’m late I’m late I’m late,” she got progressively louder as she tore through the condo like a tornado trying to get everything she needed for the day. Mr. Shanahan’s driver, Lou, had already texted her and was already downstairs waiting as she rummaged through her things and stuffed them into her purse. They were supposed to be leaving at 7am.

“Do you want some breakfast?” Kasha called out from the kitchen.

“I’m late I’m late I’m late!” Aberdeen began screaming as she gathered the last of the files and handbooks Brendan had given her before slinging her purse over her shoulder.

“Some coffee?” Kasha called out again.

“I’m late!” Aberdeen bulldozed through the main living area, running to the door and slipping on her shoes so quickly they were barely even on her feet as she opened the door and ran out. “I’m late I’m late I’m late!”

She ran through the hallway and frantically pushed the elevator button until the door opened, only to stuff herself into the already full cart (it was morning rush hour, after all) on its way down. When she burst through the front doors of the building, she saw the town car waiting. She opened the door and slipped into the backseat.

“Hello Miss Bloom,” Lou said from the driver’s seat, looking at her through the rear-view mirror. “How are you this morning?”

“I’m good,” she said, very clearly out of breath. She grabbed the seatbelt from behind her and snaked it across her body. She felt the car start to move. “I’m sorry I’m late.”

“You’re not late,” he shook his head. “Sometimes I’d have to wait for Frances for fifteen minutes. You – it’s only 6:58. We’re early.”

She let out a breath as he turned the corner. “Um, thanks,” she nodded her head, grabbing her bag and taking out the new iPad Pro that was set up last Wednesday. It had Brendan’s calendar on it, and she swiped through some of the events of the day. She would need to be prepped for when Brendan got into the car – and Lord knows where that was. “So where are we picking up Mr. Shanahan?” she asked.

“Mr. Shanahan lives on the Kingsway in Etobicoke,” Lou informed her.

Aberdeen laughed to herself. Now she’d have to be back in Etobicoke every day. She would be only several blocks away from her childhood home. A completely different neighbourhood, but still close. The audacity of the universe to do this to her. Before Aberdeen could say anything about it, Lou pulled up to a curb and stopped the car. “What’s going on?”

“You need to pick up Mr. Shanahan’s morning coffee.”

“Oh! But what – what—” Aberdeen exclaimed. Then she panicked. Morning coffee? What was his order? He never told her! He never mentioned picking up a morning coffee and now –

“Mr. Shanahan orders a venti, extra shot, extra hot cappuccino in the mornings,” Lou informed her politely.

“Right!” she said as she opened the door and pushed herself out of the car. The Starbucks was busy, of course. She accidentally paid for the drink on her own debit card and the barista totally put her name on the drink instead of Brendan. This was a disaster.

But as she got back into the car, Lou greeted her with another friendly smile. “The middle comes down,” he informed her, and she pulled it down for the cupholders. “Miss Bloom, you have a lot of nervous energy,” he said as he drove away, heading west towards Etobicoke. “You’ll be fine. You need to let go of the nervous energy. Mr. Shanahan will be able to sense it.”

Aberdeen laughed. “I think that’s impossible. It’s my first day on the job. What happened to the last two personal assistants Frances tried to hire, anyway?” she asked.

“Argh,” he huffed, waving in disgust. “They were bozos. Very rude. Only got into it for the title, then started to walk around the office like they owned the place. Like they were the ones who were trading and drafting,” Lou explained. “Idiots.”

Aberdeen couldn’t help but giggle. “Well, I won’t be doing any of that,” Aberdeen quipped. “I don’t even watch hockey.”

“If you ask me, I think it’s better that way,” Lou said. “Brendan likes people with different interests, anyway.”

The rest of the car ride was fairly silent. It took them about half an hour to get out to Etobicoke thanks to traffic, which meant they rolled into Mr. Shanahan’s driveway at around 7:45. His house was beautiful – as every house on the Kingsway was – big and in the old Tudor style, landscaped beautifully and kept neat and clean. People dreamed of living in these houses. Sometimes, during high school, Aberdeen would go on a run here just so she had something nice to look at. It wasn’t like she lived far – she grew up south of Bloor in an adjacent neighbourhood called Sunnylea. It was much different than the Kingsway though – much more middle class. She still loved it.

Almost immediately, Mr. Shanahan came out through the front door. He wore a perfectly tailored, expensive looking blue suit, with leather oxfords and a red tie. For her part, Aberdeen tried to dress modestly – like cover up her tattoos, however small and unassuming they were – while still maintaining a sense of fashion and style like she always did. Lou exited the car to greet him, with Brendan greeting him happily, and Lou opened the door for him. He slipped in beside Aberdeen. “Good morning, Aberdeen.”

“Good morning Mr. Shanahan.”

“Brendan,” he corrected her. She was uncomfortable with that. He was a man in a very high position of power – she couldn’t just call him Brendan like he was her buddy. “What’s my day consist of?” he asked.

She pulled up the iPad Pro. “It’s pretty easy today, Mr. Shanahan. You only have a meeting with the hockey operations department at 11am – no scheduled end time – and a quick half an hour meeting with a woman by the name of…Hayley Wick-in-heeser at 3pm.”

Brendan glanced at her through his glasses. Did she say something wrong? “Great. Fantastic. Thank you.” He grabbed at his coffee in between them, took out the coffee stopper, and sipped. “Who told you my coffee order?” he asked.

She looked at him like he just asked her to reveal her deepest, darkest secret. He wasn’t smiling. He wasn’t frowning. He wasn’t doing anything. Just giving her a blank stare. She gulped and held her breath. “Lou,” she answered meekly.

Mr. Shanahan let out a slight chuckle. “Thanks Lou,” he said louder. Lou waved.

Aberdeen kept holding her breath.

***

Once back at 50 Bay Street, Mr. Shanahan took Aberdeen on a lightning fast meet-and-greet tour of the offices. She met an array of people she had a hard time remembering the names of. There was Arvind and Joe and Cressida, Rosie and Daniel and Parminder, Henry and Rita and Stefano, Brendan (another Brendan) and Michael and Tony. There were so many people Aberdeen couldn’t remember them all, couldn’t remember their departments, and couldn’t remember their titles. But she nodded along nicely, and shook all their hands, and listened as Mr. Shanahan introduced her as “my new personal assistant” and spoke with some of them longer than others.

Eventually, they made their way to some of the more important departments – hockey operations, who he’d be having a meeting with as part of management, and media relations. There were a few specific people that stuck out to her, mostly because she could tell Mr. Shanahan wanted to make sure she knew who they were.

“Leanne Hederson is the manager of hockey operations. You’re going to be seeing a lot of her,” he said, introducing them. She had a firm handshake and wore a powersuit and Aberdeen loved her already. “This is Steve Walker, director of team security,” he continued as Aberdeen shook the hand of the man. “And this is—”

“New girl on the job?” a loud, booming voice asked from behind them. Everybody turned around. Aberdeen saw a man walk in – tall, conventionally attractive, with a Maple Leafs pin on his lapel – and smile at everybody in the room. “What department? Media? Medical?”

Aberdeen looked over at Mr. Shanahan quickly. He didn’t look too pleased at the interruption but he digressed. “This is Ethan Baker – he works in tech and video playback,” he said curtly. “Mr. Baker, this is my new personal assistant, Miss Aberdeen Bloom.”

“Nice to meet you, Abbie,” he shook her hand, sending her a beaming smile.

Her blood curdled at that name. Absolutely nobody called her that – not even her family. It wasn’t even her nickname. “It’s Aberdeen.”

“Excuse me?” he asked.

“My name is Aberdeen, not Abbie. Aberdeen,” she said. She didn’t even care that she was asserting herself in such a way in front of everyone on her first day of work. She didn’t want ‘Abbie’ to become a thing, so she was going to nip it now. She knew she had a weird name but a nickname was ridiculous. She was a grown woman. People could say her name.

Ethan chuckled awkwardly, and Mr. Shanahan had apparently had enough. “We’ll see all you folks later,” he said, guiding Aberdeen out of the room.

They walked through the offices and back towards their area, where Aberdeen saw her desk clean and cleared from all of Frances’s things. She went to sit down and took out the iPad Pro. “Alright,” Mr. Shanahan began, and she knew he was going to go into a long shpeal about what her job was going to entail. “First of all, you answer the phone. The phone must be answered every single time. I hate when it goes to voicemail. Plus hockey is very fast-paced. If we miss a phone call, we may miss out on trade opportunities and other important hockey operations business.”

“Yes sir…but what happens if we’re not at our desks. What happens if we’re in the arena or—”

“In that case the phone will be programmed to call you on your cell phone,” he said quickly. “You’ll give us your phone number and we’ll program it in. Every single time, Aberdeen,” he stressed.

“Yes sir.”

“You run errands as assigned. You handle my schedule as assigned and remind me of my appointments both personal and professional, meetings, and important phone calls. During game days, you’re here at the arena until the game is over, both teams have left, and I deem it fine for you to leave. You will, of course, travel with the team when I travel with the team, within Canada and to the States. You will show up to all practices, all team events including galas and fundraisers, and all other MLSE events not associated with the Toronto Maple Leafs if I am invited to them.”

“Yes sir.”

“Now, today isn’t a busy day even though the team is in for a skate because I only have two meetings. But there will be days where you’ll be running around here like a chicken with its head cut off,” he explained. “Especially at the start of the season in a few weeks, and most especially at the trade deadline in February. But until then…well, enjoy the calmness.”

“Yes sir.”

“Have you been reading the employee handbook I sent to you?” he asked, walking into his office quickly.

“Yes sir.”

“Any questions?”

“No sir.”

“Great. Then you can start familiarizing yourself with this,” he said as he plopped a giant binder on her desk. It was full of protective sleeves and filled to the brim. Aberdeen gulped. “This is somewhat of a directory of every Toronto Maple Leafs personnel you should familiarize yourself with, as they will be your colleagues,” he opened the binder for her. He was the first one. “Study this. They’re your colleagues. Important colleagues.”

“Yes sir.”

“And you can take this home tonight, but it comes right back tomorrow.”

“Yes sir.”

“I’ll call you if I need you,” he said, returning back into his office, leaving her with the giant binder. She looked down at it and gulped. She wanted to go back and hug every one of her high school teachers who remembered her name after having over 90 students a semester. She didn’t know how any of them did it. “Oh, and Aberdeen?” Mr. Shanahan popped his head back out, startling her a bit.

“Yes sir?”

“It’s Brendan,” he smiled before disappearing into his office again.

‘No chance’ Aberdeen thought.

***

Aberdeen couldn’t believe how many handbooks there were to read. She understood why she had to read them, but God it was tedious. She felt what she really needed was for Mr. Shanahan to slip her “How to Play Hockey for Kids” or something – she figured she may as well start to learn about the sport she was going to be surrounded by. Her first email was Brendan emailing her the 2019-2020 season schedule, and asking her to record every game in both his and her calendar.

After she finished that, she went back briefly to the MLSE Employee Handbook, the book that outlined the rules that employees had to abide by. She had laughed at some of the more ridiculous ones. Of course, there were the regular ones any company would have – employees couldn’t be under the influence on the job, employees couldn’t engage in criminal behaviour – but three stuck out to her most.

The first to make her giggle was number 18:

NO EMPLOYEE OF MLSE SHALL USE ANY COMPANY CREDIT CARD OR LINE OF CREDIT FOR PERSONAL PURCHASES UNLESS OTHERWISE SPECIFIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO STARBUCKS COFFEE, LUNCHES, DINNERS, ALCOHOL PURCHASES, ETC.

The second to make her giggle was number 27:

NO EMPLOYEE OF MLSE SHALL GIVE, REVEAL, OR PUBLISH THE PERSONAL PHONE NUMBERS OF ANY MEMBER OF THE BOARD OF DIRECTORS, PRESIDENT, CHAIRMAN, ETC., TO ANY OUTSIDE PARTY.

And, of course, the best one, number 32:

NO EMPLOYEE OF MLSE SHALL PURSUE OR ENTER INTO A ROMANTIC OR PHYSICAL RELATIONSHIP WITH ANY MEMBER OF THE COMPANY’S PROFESSIONAL SPORTS TEAMS, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO: THE TORONTO MAPLE LEAFS, THE TORONTO RAPTORS, THE TORONTO F.C., THE TORONTO ARGONAUTS, THE TORONTO MARLIES, THE RAPTORS 905, OR TORONTO F.C. II.

She wondered what happened to whatever poor schmuck to get that made into a rule and published in the employee handbook.

“Aberdeen,” Mr. Shanahan’s voice interrupted her thoughts. She looked up to see his head popped out from the doorway. “I need you to go pick up coffee for the meeting at 10am. Now write this down,” he said. She grabbed a stickie note and a pen as quickly as she could. “One no foam skim latte with an extra shot, and three drip coffees with room for milk, searing hot. And I mean searing. Get them here as soon as possible.”

“Yes sir,” she said, ripping the stickie note off the pad and jumping up from her seat, almost forgetting her purse.

“Yes Brendan,” he called out after her, chuckling to himself.

As she made her way through the hallways, a tall figure appeared at the end, where the staircase was. She recognized it as Ethan, the man who had called her ‘Abbie’ just hours earlier. “Hey Girl Friday,” he greeted her, his voice sounding much sleazier now that he wasn’t in the company of colleagues. “You doing a coffee run?”

“Yes.”

“Good. We need two americanos with room for milk, one grande skinny vanilla bean latte, and one venti extra shot extra hot caramel macchiato with coconut milk.”

“W—What?” she asked.

“Write it down!” his tone was a bit harsh, but she did as she was told. “Brendan’s assistant runs coffee for us all the time. Do you need me to repeat it?”

“No,” she said, somewhat glaring at him. She knew the role of personal assistants – she wasn’t an idiot. “Anything else?”

“A blueberry scone,” he said as he disappeared into his office again, wiggling his eyebrows at her before shutting the door. She shuddered.

The Starbucks down near the foot of the building apparently liked to take it’s sweet-ass time. She was in a rush because she knew the meeting started at 10, and they would have probably liked to have walked in to Mr. Shanahan’s office seeing their coffees, but that wasn’t going to be the case. The baristas didn’t finish making them until 10:10, and then she had the conundrum of how she was going to transport eight coffees and a scone without everything spilling everywhere. She wasn’t a clown despite how much this felt like a circus, so she couldn’t juggle them in her arms. Eventually, one of the cashiers found cardboard cup carriers, so they hung all the cups from those and she was on her way, rushing through the building and back up to the floor.

The second she got off the elevator, Ethan was there waiting. “What took you so long?” he demanded as he finished typing something into his phone.

“Here,” she practically flung the coffees at him for him to carry.

“No no, you need to deliver them to the guys in the office,” he didn’t even reach out for them. “Come on, this way,” he said, having the audacity to snap his fingers for her to follow him like she was a dog.

What the fuck had she gotten herself into here?

After she delivered the coffees, she made a beeline towards Mr. Shanahan’s office. “Is there some reason the coffees aren’t here? Has she died or something?” she saw him pop his head out of the room. He was asking no-one in particular, of course, since she was the only one who was supposed to be there. But then he heard her footsteps, and her saw her rushing down the hall, and he stepped out of his office, closing the door behind him. “Aberdeen, where have you been?”

“I – Ethan – I had to get coffee for Ethan and his department—”

“What?” Brendan asked. “Ethan who? Please don’t tell me Ethan Baker.”

“Y—Yes—”

“Aberdeen, why would you go and get coffee for tech and video?”

She felt stupid. She knew she fucked up, and she didn’t want to have to explain it to him in excruciating detail, although that’s perhaps what Mr. Shanahan wanted. “He – he saw me in the hallway and told me your assistant gets coffees for them all the time—”

“Listen to me Aberdeen,” he said, his tone serious and his voice curt. His voice was in one of those harsh whispers that could tear apart your soul. “Your title at Maple Leaf Sports and Entertainment reads executive assistant to the president. I am the president of the Toronto Maple Leafs hockey club, not Ethan Baker. You run errands for me, you get my coffee, and you do as I say, not as anybody else in this entire hockey club says, the least of which Ethan Baker. Do I make myself clear?” he asked.

She could feel tears welling in her eyes. “Yes sir.”

“Good. Now give me the coffee and man the desk. You can take your lunch hour at noon.”

She handed the coffee over to him and he walked back into his office. A small applause erupted at the arrival of the coffee. Mr. Shanahan closed the door behind him.

She felt like she was going to be sick.

***

After finished inputting the game schedule into the calendar and taking a few messages from phone calls (one rudely hung up on her when she asked how to spell Bergevin), Aberdeen saw it was noon and took out her lunch. She left her desk to go warm it up in the staff kitchen, but…couldn’t exactly remember where it was. She panicked. She slipped into the door where she thought she remembered it was, based on what Brendan had pointed out very quickly earlier in the day.

When she walked through the door, letting it close behind her, she was not greeted with a kitchen. She was not greeted with a staff room. She was not even greeted with an office. Instead, she was greeted with a room completely full of men who were shirtless and in either tight workout gear or tight underwear.

Bulges out.

Thighs out.

Eyes on her.

“Oh sweet baby Jesus,” she gasped, her eyes going wide before turning around violently and slamming her entire body into the door because she forgot to turn the knob. She did it again before her brain registered ‘TURN THE FUCKING KNOB!!!’ and when she did, she slipped out quickly.

The first thing she saw were the words “STAFF KITCHEN” written on a door across from her.

She should quit now. She should really just quit now and go live in a hole forever.

She escaped into the staff kitchen, popping her Tupperware into the microwave and setting the time for three minutes. Half way through, the door opened again, and a middle-aged man with a Maple Leafs t-shirt and shorts on walked in.

“Hello,” he greeted her politely. When he got a look at who she was, he smiled. “Hey, don’t feel bad. Happened to me the first day too. Luckily that was where I had to go, though.” She smiled politely at the man. Obviously he’d seen her be a complete idiot. “I’m Jason Spezza. It’s nice to meet you,” he extended his hand.

Jason Spezza. Jason Spezza. Where had she heard that name before? Then it hit her – in the employee directory. Jason Spezza was one of the Maple Leafs. She had just walked into the Toronto Maple Leafs semi-nude. She felt like barfing. “Nice to meet you,” she said meekly, shaking his hand. “I’m Aberdeen Bloom.”

“First day on the job, Aberdeen?” he asked. She nodded her head. “What’s your position?”

“Um, I’m Mr. Shanahan’s new executive assistant,” she said. She didn’t even know if she was allowed to talk to him. All the rules from the MLSE Employee Handbook were running through her mind. Would she get fired for this? He started it.

“Ah! Cool!” he smiled. The microwave began to beep, signalling it was done. “I guess we’ll be seeing a lot of you then.”

“I guess so,” she mumbled, opening the door to the microwave and grabbing her Tupperware. “Have a good day.”

She rushed back to her desk, wanting nothing more than to just crawl into a hole and die.

***

When Brendan was finished with his meeting, he called Aberdeen into his office. She’d finished lunch by then, and was patiently waiting for the phone to ring. He was still sitting at his desk as she walked in.

“Any phone calls?” he asked.

“One from Tampa Bay, but they said it wasn’t urgent,” she informed him. “And one calling on behalf of a Mr. Bergevin. I think they said they were from Montreal.”

She could see a small smile appear on his face. Maybe he was in a better mood now after his meeting. “Thank you, Aberdeen. Anything else?”

Yeah, I totally walked into your hockey team half naked. “May I ask you a question, sir?” she asked.

“Of course.”

“Am I allowed to like…talk to the Maple Leafs?”

Brendan removed his glasses. “What do you mean? Talk?”

“Um, well, I know you said – and in the handbook – I was in the kitchen during lunch and Jason Spezza came in and struck up a conversation with me and—”

“Aberdeen,” Brendan interrupted her with a slight chuckle. “Aberdeen…you can talk to the players. I expect you to talk with them and to talk with any other employees of MLSE – Maple Leafs, Raptors, whatever.”

“Oh. Okay. Because he was very friendly and I didn’t want to be rude and—”

“It’s okay to be cordial and be friends in a professional setting. You’re going to be around them constantly and be travelling with them almost as much. You’ll be in the private jet with them and attending events big and small. It’s going to be natural to become friends. The problem is if anything goes further than talking. Romantic relationships, friends with benefits, hooking up as the kids are saying these days—”

“I would never,” she interrupted him. “I would never, Mr. Shanahan.”

“I know you wouldn’t. Don’t worry,” he said, putting his glasses back on. “And stop calling me Mr. Shanahan. I told you that you can call me Brendan.”

Aberdeen was still uncomfortable with the notion. “I don’t think you understand. My parents are immigrants. If they found out I didn’t call someone sir or ma’am or mister or misses they’d guillotine me.”

Brendan looked at her, a smirk on his face. “You’ll get used to it, Miss Bloom. Now come with me. You’re going to meet the only other man you can take orders from.”

His name was Kyle Dubas. He was the young general manager of the Toronto Maple Leafs – the other man most responsible for the day-to-day operations of the Toronto Maple Leafs. The “only other man you can take orders from” turned out to be a joke, because Kyle had his own executive assistant – Peter, much much nicer than Ethan – who was responsible for that. Kyle was incredibly nice and welcoming, and Aberdeen had to admit it put her at ease. Even Peter made her feel welcome.

When she and Brendan got into the elevator after leaving, there was already a man inside. “Ah, Mr. Tanenbaum,” Brendan greeted him warmly. Aberdeen smiled politely, but internally she was freaking out. She’d seen Mr. Tanenbaum on TV lift the Larry O’Brien Trophy after the Raptors won the NBA title. Now she was stuck in an elevator with him. What was her life?

“Brendan,” Mr. Tanenbaum nodded courteously. “How’s the preparation for the season going?”

“Great,” Brendan said. “I must say, our most organized ever.”

“Great. I hear we’re close to signing Mitch. It should happen any day now.” Brendan nodded his head silently. “What’s that costing me?”

“Ten-point-eight million, on average,” Brendan revealed. Aberdeen’s eyes bulged out of her head.

“Must be a great winger,” Mr. Tanenbaum commented, causing both men to laugh. He then focused his attention on Aberdeen. “Larry Tanenbaum,” he extended his hand across Brendan for her to shake.

“Oh, I’m sorry. This is Aberdeen Bloom, my new executive assistant,” Brendan introduced them quickly as the elevator pinged and the doors opened.

“Congratulations young lady. A million people would kill for that job,” he pointed at her as he left.

Brendan looked at her. “That’s Larry Tanenbaum, chairman of MLSE.”

“I know who he is,” she said. Brendan looked shocked. “I mean, I watched him lift the Larry O’Brien in June.”

Brendan smiled – a real, genuine smile at something she’d said. “So you watch some sports.”

***

“We can be done for the day, Aberdeen,” Brendan announced once his meeting with Hayley Wickenheiser was over. It was only 4pm, and she had expected to be at the office until later, so she was pleasantly surprised. “You’re free to go. Do you need Lou to give you a ride home?”

“Oh gosh no. I live within walking distance from here. I wouldn’t make him do that,” she said as she gathered her things into her purse.

“Maybe if it was raining,” Brendan smiled, almost to himself. Aberdeen decided not to respond. “Come on, I’ll see you out. How was your first day?”

I got yelled at, I went to fetch coffee, and I walked in on the hockey team half naked. “Great,” she responded. “Thank you for your patience with me. I know I’m still learning but I promise I—”

“Don’t worry about it, Aberdeen,” he said as they walked towards the elevator. “It is very much a learn as you go environment. Especially for someone like you.”

As they stepped into the elevator together, a voice from the end of the hall screamed to hold the door. Brendan stuck his arm out until the person appeared in an impeccably well-tailored suit, slipping by his arm into the elevator. “Hey hey, William!”

“Hey Brendan!” William responded.

Aberdeen looked up. As she did, she looked into a familiar pair of piercing blue eyes. She saw a familiar head of blonde hair. Familiar lips that kissed hers and all the way down her body, making her feel some of the greatest pleasure she’d ever felt in her short life.

Will. It was fucking Will.

“Aberdeen, let me introduce you to William Nylander, one of our star forwards,” Brendan said, introducing them with a giant smile on his face. “William, this is my new executive assistant, Miss Aberdeen Bloom.”

She was going to faint. She was actually going to faint.

“Nice to meet you,” Will said as he shook her hand.

“Likewise,” she squeaked out. She was absolutely fucking mortified.

“You’ll be seeing a lot of William in the future, Aberdeen, as one of our star players,” Brendan kept talking, but she could barely register his words. Will was still looking directly at her, directly into her soul, and she felt ready to faint. “He’s going to have a great season, this year. We’re all looking forward to it.”

She had hooked up with a Toronto Maple Leaf. Oh my fucking God, she had hooked up with a Toronto Maple Leaf. And now they worked at the same company. For the same team. Under the same roof. They’d be flying together. Travelling together. Attending charity and gala events together. The words from the MLSE Employee Handbook flashed in her mind. No employee of MLSE shall pursue or enter into a romantic physical relationship with any member of the company’s professional sports teams, including but not limited to: the Toronto Maple Leafs…

“I look forward to working with you,” Will said, his eyes flashing as he continued to look at her, a smile playing on his face.

She gulped. She’d slept with a Toronto Maple Leaf and she had to keep it a secret. Nobody could find out that they hooked up.

Absolutely nobody.

#william nylander #william nylander imagine #william nylander fic #william nylander fan fic #toronto maple leafs #toronto maple leafs imagine #toronto maple leafs fic #toronto maple leafs fan fic #nhl #nhl imagine #nhl fic #nhl fan fic #hockey #hockey imagine #hockey fic #hockey fan fic #the president wears prada series

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sobriquett · 3 years ago

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Dear Trick or Treat Author

Dear Trick or Treat Author,

[WIP: 23:50 BST 19/09/21]

What a wonderful time of year! (Or is that Yuletime? Nearly there too!)

Hello! I am very easily pleased so please take this as a starting point if you need some ideas but otherwise write what makes you happy! I know horror tropes/genre are in my dislikes but if you want to write a scary trick, you do that, yes please! Just play within the canonical world (werewolves in Milton-Northern, vampires at Thornfield, ghosts at the White House) and I'll be a happy reader (but please still stay aware from my gore-related DNWs!).

My normal ramble about what I enjoy in fic isn't really relevant to a 300+ word exchange but you can find it in past letters, click the letter tag.

That said, things missing from my main signup include these:

Loves: exploration of power imbalances Likes: epistolary

My fandoms are in alphabetical order (ish), so here we go!

1. 16th Century CE RPF

Anne Boleyn Anne of Cleves Catherine of Aragon Catherine Parr Elizabeth I of England Henry VIII of England Margaret Pole Countess of Salisbury Robert Dudley 1st Earl of Leicester Thomas Seymour (1508 – 1549)

I've been on a bit of a Philippa Gregory kick this summer reading the Cousins' War series out of order. I'd love more stories about these figures – with some of them (Henry VIII in particular!) it's pretty easy to lean into the trick side of things, but there's treat potential too. Add more characters if you want; I've been reading histories and historical novels on this period for many, many years so if you drop in Maria de Salinas or Stephen Fisher or Kat Ashley or Thomas Cromwell or anyone I'm up for that, but I am also a laidback reader and this is a low-stress exchange, don't tie yourself in knots over accuracy. (Although I would, and I'd definitely recommend Ruth Goodman's How to be a Tudor if you haven't read it, even if you're not normally a non-fiction reader.)

What if [any utterly disastrous thing] didn't happen, or perhaps was somehow worse? Did Elizabeth and Dudley actually have some happiness in a romance, however brief? How did Anne of Cleves feel to retire as the King's beloved sister? What was Margaret Pole thinking on the morning of her execution? Is Henry VIII haunted by the ghosts of some of those he killed: friends and lovers and family? Did anything actually happen between Elizabeth I and Thomas Seymour (There's historical room for a secret pregnancy in the country…)

2. Downton Abbey

Mary Crawley Edith Crawley Sybil Crawley Matthew Crawley Tom Branson Robert Crawley Cora Crawley Violet Crawley Isobel Crawley Lavinia Swire Anna Bates Evelyn Napier Freda Dudley Ward Marigold Crawley George Crawley Ship: Tom Branson/Sybil Crawley

This is like my TV comfort blanket. I rewatched it this year and I am interested in just about every main character except, oddly, Thomas – who is the favourite fic character of most writers! Give me a missing moment, a look at the future, a glance at the past, a look from the outside – whatever. Any point in, before or after canon is cool with me, except I tend to skim a lot of S4 (ugh, that rape storyline, please don’t use that).

Do ghosts walk the halls of Downton Abbey? What is life like in Ireland for Tom and Sybil? Do any of the characters ever feel a moment of true despair? What if Matthew had died in the war? What does the future hold for these characters? How did Robert, Cora and Violet get on in the 1890s? What was Carson like with Mary/Edith/Sybil as children? Does it parallel his relationship with their children?

3. The Good Place

Eleanor Shellstrop Chidi Anagonye Tahani Al-Jamil Jason Mendoza Michael Janet

This is another show I can watch over and over and over. I think Chidi's my favourite but it's hard to be sure. I can tell you I absolutely sobbed during the S3 finale and I was a wreck for the S4 finale. Tug my heartstrings, make me laugh, make me cry, I don't care! I've studied philosophy and despised it so I'll take or leave what you include on that score, I just love the characters. Please include any or all other characters you'd like, but I definitely ship Eleanor/Chidi over Chidi/Simone! Although I'll take angst in that direction too! I don't know, I feel like a kid in a candy store writing this letter: hyper and having trouble deciding between all the possible wonders!

Existential dread? Moments from their human lives? Moments from the good place? Please tell me more about the time knife. Does Michael return to the good place when he dies? Does he reunite with Janet and/or Tahani?

4. Jane Eyre

Jane Eyre Edward Rochester Adele Varens Ship: Jane Eyre/Edward Rochester

This is my favourite classic novel, I reread it every couple of years, most recently in 2020 for Yuletide. My reading of it changes each time, and I increasingly believe that Rochester is more bad guy than good guy and that Jane Eyre lies as a narrator and is as prejudiced and superior as those she crititcises for the same qualities. But I still love her, and that she says she got a happy ending.

Is Rochester more of a villain? How? How does Adele find school, either the one Rochester sends her to, or the one Jane moves her to? Post-canon happiness? Post-canon unhappiness? A scene from the engagement? A missing moment between the non-wedding and Jane running away? What if the wedding wasn't interrupted? (Full disclosure: I'm writing this too.) Canon divergence for, well, anything? Is Adele separated from Sophie? How does that go, how does she manage?

5. Memoirs of a Geisha

Nitta Sayuri Mameha Nobu Toshikazu Ship: Nitta Sayuri/Nobu Toshikazu Ship: Mameha/Matsunaga Tsuneyoshi | The Baron

6. North and South

Margaret Hale John Thornton Hannah Thornton Bessy Higgins Ship: Margaret Hale/John Thornton

7. Stardew Valley

Female Player Sebastian Shane Harvey Robin Elliott Leah Marlon Ship: Shane/Female Player Ship: Sebastian/Female Player Ship: Lewis/Marnie

Do Sebastian and the farmer go on any more bike rides? How did Lewis and Marnie’s relationship start? Are they ever found out? Why does Lewis want to keep it secret? Why is he such an arsehole to Marnie? Tales of the purple shorts. Tell me more about Harvey’s nerdy hobbies or fear of heights? What happened with Robin and Sebastian’s dad? The horrors of the mines, or the skull cavern? Is Leah frightened by the things that go bump in the night near her home? Is Elliott? Some angst or h/c around a wounded farmer, being found/nursed? Or how about some angst/horror in which... they’re not? Fics about the war with the Gotoro Empire?

8. Star Trek: Voyager

Kathryn Janeway Chakotay Tuvok Kes Seven of Nine Naomi Wildman

I’ve been a J/C shipper since before I knew shipping was a thing (as a kid, I had all the two-parters, S5&6, and Resolutions on video. Pre-internet, how did I even know which episode Resolutions one? Shippy magic instinct, I guess?) So apart from that ship, or canonical relationships, I would prefer genfic please. I also don’t mind the other Voyager characters so they’re welcome to make an appearance, but these are the ones that interest me.

9. The West Wing

CJ Cregg Josh Lyman Sam Seaborn Abbey Bartlet Charlie Young Donna Moss Jed Bartlet Leo McGarry Toby Ziegler Zoey Bartlet

Happy writing!

Sobriquett

#dear author letter #16th century rpf #downton abbey #the good place #jane eyre #memoirs of a geisha #north and south #stardew valley #star trek voyager #the west wing #trick or treat exchange

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buckyscrystalqueen · 4 years ago

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Too Smart for Your Own Good: Part 6

Pairings: (Past) Machine Gun Kelly x Reader, (Past and Future) Henry Cavill x Reader

Warnings: Swearing, PTSD, nightmare, abandonment, dick move on Henry’s part.

Word Count: 6,068

A/N: Doesn’t have a completed end yet, but just giving you more content to try to get myself out of a writing funk.

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The first night you were back in LA was the first night Henry really slept, but it was at a great cost. You were sound asleep in his arms, when his grip tightened painfully around your chest, but thankfully not around your stomach. You tried calling out his name softly to pull him from his nightmare, but all that managed to do was make him grab ahold of your wrist when you tried to move it to shake him awake.

“Siri, call Dad on speaker.” You said as evenly as you could, as you tried to keep the panic and pain out of your tone. When he grumbled through the speaker, you took as deep of a breath as you were physically capable of to seek his help. “Daddy, I need you to calmly, and quietly come to my room to help me. Henry’s having a nightmare and I can’t get out of his grip to help. But you have to be calm.” You finished quickly when you heard him rush out of bed. “Calm, Negan. Please, for your granddaughter’s sake.”

“OK.” He growled angrily before hanging up the phone a few moments before he pushed open your bedroom door. “What do you need?”

“Get on the bed behind him.” You strained as you shifted your body weight as much as you could to try to pin the arm that was under you to the mattress. “Then lean over him and lay across his upper arm as best as you can. Then grab both of his wrists, gently, but firmly, and hold them. Just be careful of where your elbow is and the baby.”

“Why...?”

“Because I don’t know how he’s going to react to waking him up out of this.” You hissed over Henry’s grumbling. “Just do it.” With a heavy sigh, your father climbed onto your bed and followed your instructions to a t. You glanced up at him as best as you could to see his nod, took a deep breath, and shouted your fiancé’s name. As you expected, his grip tightened the slightest bit in fear, but Negan held on to his wrists so his grip couldn’t tighten any more than that. The next move he made as was expected as to get his arms free to fight back, but with you and Negan placed the way you were, he wasn’t able to get far with that either.

“Henry.” You said evenly and calmly around the knot in your throat. “Henry, you’re OK. You’re home, and you’re safe. It’s (Y/N) and Negan. You’re safe.” You kept repeating yourself for a few more moments until the fight in him completely disappeared, and was replaced with a new kind of panic.

“What did I do?” He asked, fearfully as your dad slowly sat up and let go of his wrists. “What did I do?!”

“You’re OK.” You repeated like a broken record as Negan flipped on your bedroom light for you. “You were having a nightmare and you tensed up around me. Dad just came into help...”

“Did I hurt you?” He asked quickly as he instantly let you go, sat up, and pushed himself across the bed to put as much distance between you as he could. “Did I hurt the baby?!”

“No, you didn’t.” You said as you ran your fingers through your hair and sat up against the head board. “I’m fine, and she’s fine. You weren’t near my stomach...”

“Oh Jesus Christ.” He gasped as he covered his face with his hands for a moment, only to look back at you. “I’m sorry. My love, I am so sorry.”

“It’s OK.” You repeated as you reached out and carefully touched his knee. “We’re all OK...”

“Need me anymore, Princess?” Negan asked as he got off the bed, knowing that if you were truly scared, you would say so.

“We’re OK for now.” You told him as you searched his tired eyes. “Thank you, Daddy. Sorry I woke you.”

“Any time.” He said, seriously. “I’ll leave my phone on.” You thanked him once more as he headed out of your room to smoke a cigarette or two before going back to bed, and you turned your full attention back to your fiancé.

“You didn’t hurt me, Henry.’ You repeated as you scooted closer to him and very gently picked up his hand. “Feel for yourself. Your arms were here... and here.” He nodded his head and gently traced the path on your skin, feeling for any broken bones, or tender spots you may have had. “You were no where near the baby, who is still squirming away.”

“(Y/N), I’m so sorry.”

“Baby, it’s OK, I promise.” You repeated as you reached up to touch his cheek slowly. “The only reason I called my dad was because I didn’t know how you’d react waking up suddenly like that, and I’m a bitty thing compared to you. I’m not strong enough to hold you still, but Negan is. So I called in reinforcements, but only because I’m pregnant.”

“Goddamnit.” He gasped as he started to tear up. “Darling...”

“Henry, take a deep breath for me.” You interrupted as you scooted a little bit closer. “I’m OK. We’re OK. I’m not mad, and I’m not scared, just a bit shaken. But here’s what we do know. You’re going to have nightmares. And now, knowing that, we can prepare ourselves for them better. There’s so many things we can try...”

“Like me sleeping in a whole different bed.” He interrupted as he reached out for his pillow, but you put your hand on it before he could pull it away.

“Henry, we have the biggest bed known to man kind.” You giggled. “You’re not going somewhere else. So let’s run through my ideas before we even consider that as a step, OK?” You kept your hand where it was and waited for him to nod, before getting out of bed and pulling open the curtains that lined the glass doors that lined your room. “Free white noise machine.” You told him as you held the buttons that pulled open the doors the same way it did in your living room and most of the west facing rooms in your house. “And lavender essential oils help. We can try weighted blankets, or look into a service dog. We can try journaling or we can start doing nightly meditation before bed.”

“I need to go see someone.” He said as he watched you tie up the curtains to see if you were in pain at all and trying to hide it. “Don’t I?”

“That’s an option, too.” You said with a nod as you came back to bed. “But all of those things need to be exhausted before we consider sleeping in different rooms, because we both know neither of us want that. And you can’t try to keep yourself awake to avoid this, Henry. You’ll only make it worse, you hear me?” He nodded his head and kept watching your face as you laid down on your side and scooted closer to the middle. “So let’s try this for now. We sleep in the middle, with a little space because I know that’s what will make you the most comfortable, and simply hold hands. You can get as close, or as far as you need, but I need to know you’re in bed with me, too. I need you here...”

“OK.” He sighed, hating the idea of possibly hurting you again, but hating the idea of sleeping without you even more. You gave him a reassuring smile as he got back in under the blankets and let you take his hand to hold.

“See?” You asked when he stiffly found an only partially comfortable way to lay, while you turned off the room light. “Not ideal, but it’s what you need for now. And I get that. Just listen to the waves, and focus on just my thumb. Feel it on the side of yours?” He nodded as he searched your eyes in your darkened room.

“Good. Focus on that. I know we’re both going to be up worrying about the other person for the rest of the night, so if you want to talk, I’m here. And if you don’t, I’m still here. I’m not going anywhere... well, other than the bathroom real quick.” You giggled as you pulled back to run over to your ensuite. “But that’s your daughter’s fault, not mine.” You were only gone a few moments, but when you came back, Henry had scooted even farther back from your spot, causing you to smirk. “You know, I can scoot across this bed, too, mister.”

“You should...”

“I’m not going anywhere, Henry.” You reminded him evenly as you grabbed your body pillow out from under your bed and laid back down in front of him, just far enough away that you couldn’t touch him with your toes without stretching, but so you could still reach his hands. You set up the pillow to make yourself more comfortable, and you could almost see relief on his face at the sight of the cotton blockade. “Yes, I can use this every night.” You answered to his unasked question. “Puts less of a strain on my back when I can’t rest her on your hip anyways.”

“OK.” He whispered as he daringly scooted a half inch closer to you.

“I love you, Henry.” You said softly as you laced your fingers with his and started rubbing his thumb again. “And I’m not mad or scared of you, do you hear me? We are going to get through this together.” He barely nodded in agreement as tears welled in his eyes, which he quickly closed to hide them.

“I love you, too, (Y/N).”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

While Henry went to his first appointment with a PTSD therapist, you agreed to go shopping for maternity clothes. It was one thing that you hadn’t wanted to accept, but it was undeniable- your old clothes could no longer stretch to fit your 18 week along bump, and you could only live in bathing suits, and unbuttoned, held closed by hair ties jeans and shorts for so long, anyways. So Henry made you a deal as he tried to close your jeans under your stomach that morning. He’d go to the therapy appointment he’d been indecisive about, if you caved and bought pants that fit. Which meant you both left the house with scowls on your faces, even though yours was for a different reason.

You had barely paid for two smoothies at a place you had never been to before, that was a purposeful choice on your behalf, when your purse started to vibrate under your arm like you were expecting it to. Your heart still skipped a beat as you looked at an old caller ID photo, and answered the call with a small, knowing smirk.

“Baby? You OK?”

“I’m fine…” He said quickly. “I’m sorry… I lied to you.”

“You lied to me?” You asked as you pulled out a pair of reusable straws because you hated the paper ones that a lot of places in LA used now. “How did you lie to me?”

“I was told to tell you that this doctor wanted to do a family consult the first visit. And now, he won’t see me until my family gets here. Which means you…” A small smile pulled at the corner of your lips as you grabbed the two smoothies you had ordered, and nodded at the woman who made them.

“See, now… I vaguely remember a distant conversation…”

“I know.” Henry laughed as you opened the door of your car and set the drinks in the cupholders.

“Could it have been yesterday? No, maybe last week some time…”

“You know as well as I do…”

“Where I asked you if I should be there like my research showed.” You finished over him as you turned on your car, and checked your surroundings to back out of your spot. “You should be glad I still don’t listen to you.”

“I’m sorry, my love.”

“And you should be really lucky I picked the smoothie place that was two blocks away from where your appointment is on purpose, because I knew that no matter how much you swore he never said that…”

“I’m never going to live this down…” Henry said to you and someone in the office. “Never…”

“I hope you still like strawberry, blueberry, and kiwi.” You said as you grabbed a spot next to his Charger and hung up the phone. You grabbed your belongings and headed inside right on time for the therapy appointment, like you had planned since he had made the appointment.

“You are something special.” Henry said as he stood up to kiss your cheek.

“You’ve obviously forgotten who I am, baby.” You laughed as you glanced at the door that was opening to let a patient out.

“You must be Henry.” The man that stayed in the doorway asked with a smile as he took a clip board with Henry’s paperwork from the woman at the desk. “And…”

“(Y/N).” You said as you handed Henry his smoothie so you could shake the therapist’s hand. “Fiancée.”

“Come on back.”

“This why you left before me?” Henry asked as he gently pushed you forward.

“It is.”

“Well thank you for that.”

“OK.” The doctor said as he closed the door behind you in his office. “I’m Doctor Maxwell. Let’s get started…”

——

“So how did you know?” Henry asked as you headed back to get some shopping for both of you done after dropping off his car after his appointment.

“You can’t look at me when you lie to me.” You told him as you reached across the middle console of your Range Rover to rest your hand on his thigh while he drove. “You never have been able to. You always look just to the right, at the little scar I have there…”

“Here is one of the downsides to dating a genius.” He laughed as he squeezed your hand for only a moment at a red light. “She never forgets anything and notices everything.”

“Like an elephant.” You nodded. “I don’t call you out on it, though. Nor do I hold it against you. It’s human nature to conceal things that you believe are not pertinent, or that you believe will hurt or inconvenience the other person. The only person I don’t let it slide from is Negan.”

“I don’t lie often.”

“Twenty-seven times.” You agreed with a nod. “In the four years, seven months, and twelve days we’ve been together, obviously excluding the six years, two months, and twenty-one days…”

“Of course you know that to the day.” He laughed as he pulled into a parking spot in front of the first maternity store you wanted to go to.

“Elephant.” You laughed as you bent over to grab your bag at the same moment your daughter stretched. You felt the hair tie that was holding your pants together pop, and you let out a groaned sigh. “This damn child just broke my pants!” Henry paused before getting out of the car to look over at you while trying to hold back a laugh. “Don’t…”

“Love, that is hysterical!”

“Just… give me your belt.” You hissed as you mentally thanked your father for tinting your windows as dark as he did so your panties weren’t on display for the whole world to see.

“Now aren’t you glad we’re going shopping?” He laughed as he handed you the strip of brown leather.

“You are never going to let me live this down, are you?” You laughed as you wrapped the long belt around you nearly twice, and tied it.

“I will when you let this morning go.”

“Well you just had that one coming.” You laughed as you re-grabbed your purse and got out of the car. “Your fault.” He put his hand on the small of your back and kept you to his right, closer to the shops, down to the Moms the Word store. The two woman working in the small shop both looked up at you, down at your belt situation, and back at you with small shakes of their head.

“Finally gave in and accepted you can’t fit in regular clothes anymore?”

“I didn’t have a choice.” You muttered with a glance up at Henry’s smirk.

“Well let’s get you into shorts that are actually comfortable to wear first, then we’ll go from there. We see this all the time.”

“I’ll be here, darling.” Henry said as he took your bag from you, and grabbed a seat on the circular couch center piece. “Enjoying the show.” You did your best to get everything you could possibly need in one store, but you had no choice but to drag him to a second to finish up. You stopped for lunch at a Greek food cart Ashleigh had shown you years prior, and complained about being to hot to eat outside, so he wasn’t forced to sit in the loud crowd of people gathering for lunch.

You could tell he was silently grateful when you put up the sun shade you rarely used, and you over exaggerated how nice the AC felt to make him feel just a little less awkward after spilling his heart out about what had triggered him in the past three weeks since he’d been back- which were also all things that you had asked him to do, that made you feel absolutely horrible for putting him through his own personal hell. You gave him to option to either pick stores he wanted to grab clothes from, since a lot of his old ones were just a bit to tight for his new muscles or to head home and call it a day, and in typical Henry fashion, he was in and out of three stores in under an hour with nearly a whole new wardrobe.

“I hate that you can do that.” You said as you got in the passenger side of your car to go home.

“Do what?” He asked as he tossed his bags in the trunk with all of yours, and headed around to the drivers side. “What did I do?”

“I hate that you can go into a store, try on two things, and walk out with like four bags of stuff. Men have it so easy.”

“Oh, don’t be jealous.” He laughed as he pulled out into traffic to head home. “I’m just hitting my breaking point.”

“I figured as much.” You said as you put your hand on his thigh again. “And now, I vote for a nice dip in the pool, maybe a nap…”

“A naked nap?” He asked smoothly with a glance over in your direction.

“You know I’m a big fan of naked naps. Oh, Goddamnit. Just… put it in reverse and run him the fuck over.”

“No matter how much I would love to.” Henry said as he led the honking purple Lamborghini down your street. “I can’t.”

“Pretty please?” You begged with a pout.

“Can’t do it, my love. Don’t want you having my step daughter in prison for vehicular manslaughter…”

“Just yell at Jim that he’s OK to come in.” You said as he pulled into the right lane while you hit the gate button. “Man, he better hope that Negan isn’t home.”

“I’ll take the bags upstairs for you, darling.” He told you softly when he finally pulled into your garage. “Just don’t get too…”

“Who the FUCK do you think you are?!” Negan roared as he stormed out of the house toward the stupidly expensive car. You and Henry both raced out of your car to stop him as Colson got out to confront your dad before confronting you.

“No. Daddy, stop.” You tried as you stopped just short of the two men.

“What, you can’t even bother to tell me you’re fucking back in town? I have to see you on the fucking streets?!”

“Check your fucking voicemails, Colson. I left thirty of them when I was leaving the country, another ten when I was in England, and I left another six when I got back to LA. I also left one hundred and nineteen texts in that time frame, on top of the fourteen emails I sent, and I got ahold of Ashleigh at each stage and had her pass messages on to you as well, which I know she did. So please, tell me what I was supposed to do from there to get your attention, huh? Hire a sky writer? Send up smoke signals, what?”

“Oh, don’t you dare fucking mock me right now. That’s my kid…”

“And right now she’s in my fucking body!” You snapped back.

“And you took her out of the country on vacation…”

“She took me to see my parents.” Henry tried, but you and Negan both reached out to silently tell him to stay out of it.

“It wasn’t a vacation, Colson. Far from it. But it gave us a starting point to what we needed to do to help him get better after he spent six years as a prisoner of war. So excuse me if placating your big, macho ego falls in third on my list of priorities after making sure our daughter is healthy, and making sure my fiancé, who I just got back in my life mind you, is OK. I told you, I don’t play fucking games. So now, you need to leave. You can see I’m back, and you can see I’m healthy. Baby girl is kicking away and happy as can be, but until you want to grow the fuck up, and answer the Goddamn phone when I call you regarding her, you’re not fucking welcome here. We talked about that, remember? Both of us in her life. That means you actually have to fucking do that.”

“You know what, you’re worse than fucking Emma.” Colson said as he pulled open his car door. “With your ‘I’m better than you’ bullshit. And that’s fucking saying something. I’m done. Raise the kid with your rugby loving basket case.”

“I’d think long and hard about making that choice, mate.” Henry said before you could respond as he stepped up to your side with a small shake of his head. “Because I’ve only been back a month, and I’ve accepted the fact that I’ll be raising that little girl for the rest of my life the moment I walked through that door. But that’s what being a man is all about, stepping up when a boy isn’t capable?”

“You son of a bitch!” Colson said as he lunged toward Henry, but Negan jumped between them while Henry moved you back behind him out of the way.

“Get in your fucking car!” Your dad shouted as he pushed your baby daddy back. “Get your fucking shit together, and man the fuck up before you fucking think of coming back!”

“Fuck you!” Colson shouted as he got in his car and angrily slammed the door. “And fuck you for trapping me into this!”

“Oh, I’m gunna fucking kill him.” You growled over the sound of his engine roaring to life as you lurched forward with the intention of knocking him out. Henry caught you carefully around the middle and pulled you back into his chest. “Fuck you!”

“OK, that’s enough excitement for today.” He said gently as he turned you around so you didn’t see Colson mark up your driveway when he peeled out of it. “Let’s go inside, now, before I actually chase him down and run him over with my car.”

“If you do, take the truck.” Negan grumbled as he headed back toward the front door. “Because if you don’t, I will on my way back to the club house.”

“Both of you are wrong.” You said loud enough for your dad to hear, too. “I’ll be the one running him over if any of us do.”

——

You had no idea what heaven really was until you were laying on it. You saw an ad for the Cozy Bump pillow/ pool float pop up on the edge of a website you were reading to review car seats, and you couldn’t stop yourself from buying it because your back depended on it’s existence. It had arrived just that morning a few minutes after Henry had left for his appointment, and you woke up Negan, and his favorite flavor of the week so he would blow it up for you. Which lead you to complete nirvana.

You didn’t even bother putting a bathing suit top, just bottoms as Negan chucked it into the pool to go and get his day started. And you also couldn’t wipe off the giant smile on your face as you took the stairs down from the patio off your bedroom on the second floor down to the first where your infinity pool was. You weren’t even mad at having to swim halfway across the pool to retrieve it. You just wanted to use your damn float! And as you carefully got on, putting your bump in the cut out hole, and situating your breast in their own cut out, you realized that this purchase was the absolute best thing you had ever done in your life.

That is how Henry found you when he got back, sleeping on your float, in the shade from the upper balcony, holding onto the edge with your foot so you wouldn’t burn in the sun. He softly called your name once, before heading up to the room to put his own swim suit on; deciding that watching you relax sounded much better than his previous idea of a run down the beach. He grabbed himself a beer from the pool bar’s fridge and walked down the steps, putting your foot back on the raft for you so he could hold it still instead.

“You’re alright, my love.” He soothed softly when you startled at the movement. “I’ve got you.”

“Ashleigh’s coming over for a pool date...”

“I’ll get you a top when she calls.” He interrupted with a smile. “Sleep.” You nodded your head and drifted off for a minute, but the small rise in your adrenaline from being startled kept you from falling back asleep completely.

“How was therapy?” You asked as you reached out to grab his knee to pull yourself closer.

“Stressful, as usual. But enlightening.” He sighed as he reached out with his dry hand and pushed your hair back to see your face better. “I think we should start trying to go out for meals. Maxwell suggested that could be a way to desensitize to loud sounds before the baby comes. I just...” He sighed as you opened your eyes to look at him with a small smile, knowing exactly what he was trying to say, but waiting for him to voice it the way he needed to to claim his fear. “I... I don’t want to hurt her and I don’t really know if it’s loud noises that trigger me, or big groups, or if they are even a trigger at all…”

“Are you asking me on a date, Mr. Cavill?” You cooed as you propped your head up on your other arm with an even bigger smile. He met your eyes and his fear slipped away in his smile.

“Why yes ma’am, yes I am.” You nodded your head as your smile grew even more.

“I think I can pencil you in.” He laughed as he set his beer on the side so he could sink deeper into the water with you.

“Just a pencil? I don’t even get a penned in date night?”

“Nope.” You breathed as he turned you so that he could crouch down beside your face. “Now this raft, however. This raft gets penned in.”

“Oh, cheeky!” He laughed as he splashed your back with water. You giggled as you pulled yourself closer with his shoulder so you could kiss him softly.

“I would love to go on a date with you, my love. And I’ll happily do whatever it is you need from me, no questions asked. Well... belly flops are kind of out right now, and so is sky diving...”

“God, I’ve missed your sass.” He laughed as he kissed you once more, before letting go of the raft just long enough to grab your phone. He answered the call from the gate, and told the guard to let Ashleigh in, who knew the override code for your driveway gate and the door by your garage so you didn’t have to get out of the pool. “I’ll go grab a top.”

“Hey, we need to talk about trading your car in.” You said as you pushed yourself up on your elbows while he pulled you over to the side. “Your warranty ends in a few months. We can get you into something new for this new chapter...”

“As long as I’m not getting into a mini van, that’s fine.” He said as he held you just long enough for you to grab the edge of the pool. “Maybe an SUV like yours?”

“Gives us something to figure out at dinner.” You called out as he headed over to the stairs quickly. “And now I’m liking the idea of a mini van!”

“Not happening!” He called over his shoulder as he jogged up the steps. You smiled and laid still for a few more moments, before carefully flipping yourself to the side.

“(Y/N)?!” Ashleigh called out as she stepped out of the elevator at the same time Henry tossed you a mismatched top.

“Out here!” You yelled as you tied up the straps, and put your raft on the side of the pool. “Love, can you grab the sunscreen?”

“OK, you need to fucking quit pestering Kels.” She said as she dropped her bag on a lounge chair and pulled off her cover-up. “And tell Negan to back off, too. Because Kels is making my life a living hell. Hi Henry, welcome home.”

“Ashleigh, I told him from the get go I wasn’t planning on doing this with him.” You said as you threw your hair in a messy bun, and grabbed your sunglasses from the edge. “If he wants his kids to have a relationship, that’s fine. I can accommodate that because it is not their fault they drew the genetic short straw and Emma agrees with me on that one. But either way, I will always be disinclined to acquiesce to his demands when it comes to my child unless he is willing to follow the same demands himself.

And I am also disinclined to placate him when he drives to my house, honking his horn and causing a scene because he’s mad he didn’t answer the ample communications regarding my daughter in the first place. I won’t do it. I refuse. My child, my fiancé, and my family... fuck, even my work come before some immature man child who refuses to grow up. If he thinks my daughter will be raised in the way Casie was, he’s got another thing coming. No offense to Emma.” Ashleigh looked a little stunned as Henry simply took the sunscreen bottle from your hands and turned you around in the pool to do your back for you, having heard this same rant the night before as you were getting ready for bed.

“Well damn.” She said after a moment as you did your front and face with the SPF 50. “OK.”

“Look, like I said, I’m in charge here, because I know what his life looks like. I’ve heard all the songs, I’ve read between the lines of his lyrics. I know the life he lives and has lived. And I know what his life is going to look in ten, twenty years from now because of it. And I won’t have my child raised in that. I did not go into this pregnancy to compromise her upbringing with someone else, especially someone who isn’t ready to be the parent he claims to want to be. And I’ve told him that countless amounts of times. So no, I will not quit ‘pestering’ when he crosses a line he drew himself. And no, I will not tell Henry, who is actually ready to be a parent on the same page as I am, not to call my child his daughter and not his step daughter because he will still be around in ten or twenty years, doing right by her. And I will never, ever tell Negan to back off protecting his daughter, and granddaughter. And you can feel free to pass that all along to him. Because from what I’ve learned from Emma, he’s not going to hear it coming from me.”

“So you talk to Emma?” She asked as she grabbed a pineapple float from near the bar and got in the pool.

“I talk to Emma on a weekly basis.” You said with a nod as you grabbed your new float and got back on it with Henry’s help. “I’ve gotten her opinion on how she raised Casie, and how Colson parents her. I’ve talked to Casie about her dad, and what they do when they spend time together. And I’ve talked to both of them about how they feel having me and the baby integrate into their lives, and how we could go about doing that with, or without Colson. He said he wanted his daughters to be in each other’s lives, so I will do that for them. But I won’t subject her to his tomfoolery.”

“Who uses that word now, my love?” Henry teased as he sat in his favorite chair raft and kicked his feet up on the edges of your float so he was keeping you close to him and out of the sun.

“Shut up.” You laughed with a glance back at him.

“He’s a good person, (Y/N).” Ashleigh sighed, knowing that you were right and being fair as she hooked her feet on the edge of the pool in the sun to work on her tan. “He really is. He’s just...” She sighed and shrugged her shoulders, which made you nod.

“He never had to grow up.” You finished for her. “And his drug use stunted the mental capacity to do so. And I don’t hold that against him.”

“I kinda do.” Henry said as he slowly started rubbing your feet for you.

“And even if Henry does, he understands where I’m coming from when I say I’ll let him in her life. But the quicker Colson realizes that I am not going to cater to the bullshit, the faster he will be able to spend time with the child he wants in his life. On my terms. In my home. Away from the drug use, and the partying, and the revolving door of women. Negan has to live by the same rules here, so I know I’m not being ridiculous, and I know it’s possible. He’s not exempt unless there’s a lock down. And he knows that if I can’t lock down here, we will be locked in his bedroom, completely off limits from the rest of the club like I was when I was a child, or more likely, we will flying to England to visit Henry’s parents, or to another safe place until it’s safe to come home and be in my own home again.”

“As your cousin, and a mother, and someone who sees his lifestyle on a daily basis, and who knows yours, I get it. I’m not holding it against you. This was never a match up I saw just falling into place. But I’ll talk to him, OK? Maybe she can be the one that can help make the changes he needs, not just for his own life, but to be an even better father to Casie as well. Not that he’s a bad father to her as is.”

“Never said he was.”

“I know.” She sighed with a nod. “It’s just... man, you guys got me stuck between a rock and a hard place.”

“That I will apologize for. But only that.”

Part 7

#too smart for your own good #machine gun kelly x reader #mgk x reader #henry cavill x reader #colson baker x reader

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2o2o-kit · 4 years ago

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An American’s Thoughts on Horrible Histories Songs

Born 2 Rule: Iconic, really set the stage for Horrible Histories, not my favorite George III song though that prize goes to Hamilton, (also I was always taught George III was mad in an angry way)

Wives of Henry VIII: This song walked so Six can run, still iconic

Making a Mummy: Kind of forgettable, but if we are going by the pattern as seen in the first two, I predict the next big history musical will be about making mummies

The Tudors: I don’t know why but I love this song’s intro, but I find the dance moves cringe worthy

Georgian Lady: It’s great when you can read along to it, but Martha is still iconic

I’m a Knight: I love the whole Monty Python inspiration, this always makes me smile, just pure wholesome knight energy, one of my favorite season 1 songs

Caveman Love: It gets better the more you listen to it

It’s Not True: Probably my least favorite Horrible Histories song, still better than most songs on the radio

The Plague: The plague was made for musical theatre, besides this check out Spamalot and Something Rotten

British Things: Drags on a bit, but haha Britain, you are not perfect, (but America is far from perfect)

We are Greek: It’s king boring, but lyrics are still pretty clever

Burke and Hare: I’m not a fan of this TBH, maybe it’s because I’m not a huge fan of true crime and stuff like that, it’s not that catchy either

Literally: Nothing like an 80s rock parody, it’s also one of the funniest songs

Charles II: This was the first HH song I listened to and I’m glad, because it’s a banger, and this is probably the closest you will get to a kid friendly Eminem

Spartan Musical: This is so camp and just you have to watch to understand

WWII Girls: Katy Wix needs to be in more songs, I love the costumes in this

George IV: I’m obsessed with this one, Jim’s vocals in this are perfection, definitely one of my favorite of the whole series, I wish I could belt like that

Blackbeard: The acting in this is perfection, I still laugh while watching it

Victorian inventions: I’m not a big fan of this type of music, but it’s still funny

Hieroglyphics: Idk why Mat did a Texas accent, and I’m not sure but it’s not bad, but it’s not as great as the other songs

Cowboys: The accents are good but I could go without all the farts

Boudicca: This is an inspiration

Funky Monks: I’m not a big fan of this one, it’s funny but I wish they had more singing in this, but Terry is great as always

Pachacuti: At first I was bit nervous to watch it because of the brown face, and yes it’s in there and I also thought it would be too cheesy but that’s the point and makes it so much fun, also what’s a northern accent

Dick Turpin: For most people it’s the guyliner that makes this a thirst trap, for me it’s all the tricorn hats 😍. When I first watched this video I recently developed my tricorn fetish and this song was just... The music to this is great too, I listen to this daily. And imagine me learning that this thirst trap’s name is Dick

Monarchs: Iconic, super helpful, now I can name all the English monarchs, thanks

William Wallace: Better than Braveheart, seems like a lot of fun to film

Work! Terrible Work: Hey look theatre reference, this so is definitely not a mood booster, but those sideburns (and I’m not really into sideburns)

Ra ra Cleopatra: Martha is killing it, and I love all the Lady Gaga references

Richard III: Thanks for talking about the horrors of Tudor Propaganda and the lyrics in this are amazing

Evil Emperors: If you claim your bad, don’t make such a catchy song that can easily be confused as another thirst trap, love the parody and Caligula and Nero and some of my favorite HH characters

Suffragettes: This song proved how hard these ladies worked, also I want to sing this song with others, who’s in?

Ain’t Stain Alive: Okay just like Pachacuti, I’m sure this song can’t work today, but it’s great, so catchy and the screams, also the behind the scenes of this is iconic

Age of Stone: I like how it explains the time periods but I’m not really a big fan of how it was presented

English Civil War: The choreography is on point, Lawry needed to be in more songs and I love the song they parodied, it’s Cool from West Side Story

Celtic Boast Battle: I don’t know, I find it a bit too much but the ending is perfection

RAF Pilots: Now I’m not big on war history, epically WWII, but song is perfection, I love the coloring used for this, the music is just awesome, and this along with The Captain from Ghosts and Molly McIntire are proving the WWII is gay

Nature Selection: I’ve been using this phrase a lot during the pandemic,

The Thinkers: Alright, no strong opinions

It’s a New World: A jam, love the shade of how the pilgrims treated the natives, and it’s a great parody altogether, also I need a New New Castle now

Mary Seacole: So catchy I love it, and the dancing is great. I wish they didn’t cut out that one lyric about Florence because that’s important

Victoria and Albert: It’s kind of slow, but I can see why others like it, maybe it’s just because I’m alone

Blue Blooded Blues: I don’t really like Blues music, even though I’ve lived in cities known for their blues, but James Cape™️, GAAAYYYY!!!

The Luddites: Definitely one of my favorites, I love the cinematography, the costumes are my type, and nothing like historical heavy metal, ironic right, and Jim has the vocal range

The Borgia Family: I love everything about this, the music, the accents, costumes, this is better than the Showtime series, wish Ben got a solo in this song though, (also is it just me or do the Borgias remind you of the Trumps expect the Borgias are more like able)

Mary I: It’s okay, Sarah in this is great and it’s a great parody but I always thought of Mary having a deeper voice (I know weird)

William Shakespeare and the Quills: I love Shakespeare, but I’m not a big fan of this type of music, also I low key wish Shakespeare was sexy in this one

Georgian Navy: Please forgive my star spangled ass, but I’m not a fan of the British military during the Georgian era, and yes I know Nelson didn’t really fight in the American Revolution, but I’m not a big fan of war history

Flame: Will get stuck in your head, but who cares it’s an awesome parody, Jesse Owens in amazing, we love Jim’s Nero, and Mat you said you were all nude (I feel cheated)

Death’s Favorite Things: Hilarious, and a mood for me

Rosa Parks: Now Rosa’s story is something we get drilled in our heads in America, which is good, this song is so catchy and I love the costumes, but the ending did say ‘segregation was ended in America,’ but technically...

Vikings and Garfunkel: Aww so peaceful,

Charles Dickens: I love the music on this and the cinematograph, but there is something about it that I’m not a big fan of it, but I’m not sure what

Crassus Minted: A freaking underrated banger, just like the real Crassus

Joan of Arc: I’m sorry but this song is a bit cringe worthy but still way better than the new seasons

Alexander the Great: I mean is there any other song that can truly depict Alex

Owain Glynwr: Wish they had more Welsh history on the show but Tom Jones parody I never knew I needed

Transportation: The dancing in this is amaze, and I’m obsessed with Ben’s accent in this, how is his Midwestern accent better than mine, and I have a Midwestern accent, (stop making me like Henry Ford!) and I love whenever they do musical parodies

Henry VII: This song makes me want to be Henry VII, he made the monarchy great again

Matilda Stephen and Henry: There are more ABBA references in this than a production of Mamma Mia, and it’s brilliant,

Australia: I’m surprised they got away with saying Hellhole in this, but still very catchy, low key wish Thomas sang this in Ghosts

Cousins: It’s silly and I like it

Love Rats: Lyrics make me want to remain single, video is having me crush on actors that are old enough to be my parents

Final: Supersweet, but I can only watch it once because it makes me emotional

#horrible histories #my opinion #history

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noobsomeexagerjunk · 5 years ago

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thoughts on starry after multiple listens

(dated July 8, 2020 because i might make another one)

Edit: I SHOULD FACT CHECK MORE

the Starry soundtrack is as impressionist as the painters it invokes by energy alone, which is impressive given the style of music used (of which i’m fine with, but not partial to)

the Prologue does this right off the bat

the people of Monmartre are very critical of the rest of France and I adore it

i can feel theo’s overwhelment in Impress Me

Impress Me does a wonderful job at introducing the setting of the show

that song is a ball of pulsating yearning—no wait that’s the whole show

Theo got so stressed he walked blindly into Madame Segatori’s cafe

learning that the Le Tambourin was named as such due to its tambourine aesthetic via Vincent’s portrait of Segatori is just incredible to me; the table is shaped like a tambourine

“If Paris is the world, Monmartre is Bethlehem; and art is our Amen” sounds so powerful

A New Horizon is so warm

i expect Theo and Vincent to be very cuddly with each other everytime they interact

“dream with me, dear brother” is the energy of this song

french wheat fields will forever haunt me because of this damn musical

*insert Do You Like the Color of the Sky? post here*

like, so much emphasis to the sky

Vincent’s dreaming leaking into Theo’s trading practice surely must be a sight to see

chain imagery hits hard after hearing Wheat Fields/Finale Ultimo

in this yellow house, we dream of freedom

“should I really take this giant risk?” “brother, I took a giant risk coming here—fuck yeah do it!”

United in Distaste reeks of Vincent’s intimidation—it has new kid in school energy and I am living for it

Vincent coming to Monmartre (and when he arrives in Arles) like “Hey, I’m new in town, and it gets worse,”

Bernard has apparently spent enough time with Theo to be able to identify Vincent by frowning alone

Rude of Gauguin to yoink Vincent’s painting like that; Segatori immediately hangs it tho—

Gauguin sounds like he’s going to corrupt anyone who approaches him—dude announces his horny nature during his introduction

Gauguin IS a savage and a whore and the best thing about that is that he knows it; even better knowing the vision of his costume

Segatori’s displeasure throughout the song implies that the artists that frequent her cafe also argue amongst themselves frequently

“keep in mind that we’re academic rejects, Vincent”

with the way Degas, Pissarro, and Morisot tease at Gauguin (noting that Gauguin, Bernard, and Toulouse-Lautrec are together in a later song), it sounds like they’re are hurling insults from a separate tambourine table

Toulouse-Lautrec sounds dramatic; Bernard sounds like he’s not sure where he is artistically—both are a mood

Of the post-impressionist table, the only one retaliating with genuine insults is Toulouse-Lautrec; Bernard and Gauguin only end up defending themselves while Toulouse was ready to tear down Degas and Morisot

Pissarro IS old (at this period in time in the musical) damn

Morisot is unyielding with her insults, “speaking of size—“ holy shit oh no

i reiterate—why is Toulouse-Lautrec the only one actually speaking in a French accent; almost everyone there is French

since I’m aggressively referring to him, I think Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec merits a musical of his own, and that’s based on what first learned about him when I first listened to Starry

by extension, also Berthe Morisot

Monmartre’s artists be like “We’re very critical of ourselves and each other, and while that’s worth being intimidated by, don’t be intimidated by us! What do you have to bring to the table, foreign painter?”

Something poetic about how what Vincent wants being what all the artists want hereby making him a member of their squad is so warm to me—galleries are gravity INDEED

“We will embrace the madness we design, or lose our mind,” IS THIS FORSHADOWING BECAUSE IT FUCKING SOUNDS LIKE IT

“i am loving this! YES, GET ANGRY!” if only i can identify who said this

Something After All is directed towards Vincent, right? It better be, I lack context

Theo’s yearning is so relatable and I fear not being able to fulfill it

bless Kelly and Matt for giving Jo so much depth in Enlightenment

apparently she deadass learned English for the purpose of translating the letters she had compiled??? yo i love that

poetic how Jo invokes making a legacy since she’s the one who actually preserves her brother-in-law’s legacy (and by extension, herself and her husband’s legacies)

at first listen, i immediately drew a comparison to Hamilton’s Eliza; Jo is better both musically and literally, given that Vincent van Gogh is far more relevant than Alexander Hamilton will ever be, even with LMM’s musical

not trying to start beef, just an observation

Jo’s yearning is also such a mood

fire, light, and road imagery being invoked huh

it is by this point i’ve to the realization that the reasons one goes to Monmartre that was cited in Impress Me tie in very well to the individual characters’ desires in this show

Where Are We Going? goes so hard ugh yes

“I need a stronger strategy to seize my immortality!” Gauguin’s incredible ambition is the root of his dissatisfaction; doesn’t help that he’s impulsive both in the musical and IRL

Toulouse prioritizes integrity and Bernard prioritizes progression—I wonder what this means for their characters in the show

Toulouse and Bernard calling Gauguin out on his known shitty behaviors feels like they’ll be problems Vincent will have to deal with in Act 2, when they live together

this is where Gauguin leaves for Martinique, right???

which one is the act 1 closer, really??? The Sower or The Road??? help me please

everyone in town is really concerned for Vincent

it wams me how much Segatori believes in him

Bernard’s right, Vincent van Gogh’s artstyle IS a melting pot

learning that Toulouse-Lautrec capitalized on his art during the peak of his career really adds weight to his concerns on Vincent’s inability to sell

i like to imagine the everyone’s in the gallery during The Sower

Theo and Jo’s relationship progressing as Vincent’s works don’t sell hits upon realization

Theo falling hard when he learns that he and Jo yearn for the same thing tho

recontextualizing the imagery that Vincent found beauty in into imagery that demonstrates his person is just mighty good of Kelly and Matt

then again, so much of his person is in the artwork to begin with

“and everyone knows your reap what you sow.” w o a h!!!

The Road starts like a dramatization of one of Vincent’s breakdowns and how he copes with them, or perhaps this starts after one??? The opening verses suggest a lot

also ties his road to his dream of freedom with what i believe is his travel to Arles

“North, South, East, West—navigate from inside you,” = “With conscience as my compass,”

“i am guided towards the night” this Vincent knows the answer but is so clearly far from its reach and is desperately trying to figure out how to

soul of fire, crystal heart and blizzard-like brain; the man is passionate and everyone knows it

“Fascinating, but maybe just a little too soon,” sounds like that at this point, Toulouse-Lautrec and Bernard genuinely recognize and admire Vincent’s talents, but also understand that the world is still against him and that they have the experience to prove it

the “sunlight and storms” imagery always concern Theo, Jo, and Vincent’s relationship with each other

Gauguin popping up in this song with the compass imagery implies the show’s going to make him a pretty interesting foil to Vincent; this sounds like him traveling back to Paris, or at least him attempting to vibe in Martinique

this hurts when you remember what happens to Vincent

“curse of the gifted” is a phrase i am too afraid to understand

DYLAN SAUNDERS CAN SLAY ME WITH HIS VOICE

The Yellow House sounds yellow somehow

who clears their throat before writing a letter???

Gauguin’s frustration’s against Vincent’s admiration of him is amusing

sounds like Gauguin hasn’t found his “freedom” yet

Theo is one generous fellow

this arrangement lasts for only 2 months; given the apparent span of this musical, The Yellow House is a very “calm before the storm” song

wait a minute—

apparently, Vincent REALLY admired Gauguin and was so excited for his arrival at the yellow house

i fear the dramatization of their disagreements

“Don’t tell Theo I said that,” it amuses me how the van Gogh brothers’ relationship is so well-known to these painters

based on the gifs lurking, the ear incident WILL be dramatized and I am terrified for my heart on how it will be depicted

Sunlight and Storms quotes the original letter from Jo to Vincent surprisingly well (i attempted to read some—there’s so many! this was one of the first ones i came across)

this song hurts when it hits how little time Jo and Theo had together as a married couple

I am convinced a lot happened between Sunlight and Storms and On the Threshold of Eternity

this definitely was after a breakdown

i skip this song just so i don’t think about the obvious implications, i must confess

the meaning of “sunlight and storms” hits the hardest here

“we will not let your illness keep you from finding your freedom”

The Red Vinyard is so full of a brother’s love

this hits me, and i speak as an only child

“You’ve carried me more than you’ll ever know,” AH—

when Theo finally sees the new horizon, Vincent is seeing it too

and what Vincent saw he put on a fucking canvas

“i can see it—a new horizon” = “the sight of the starry night”

they say that at the time, not much was thought of the iconic painting

i could only wonder what might’ve happened between The Starry Night and Wheat Fields

all the piano motifs coming together in Wheat Fields/Finale Ultimo, just like that

“I’m ready for harvest time” is melodically similar to “The road is bright”, particularly when it’s just Vincent singing the line alone

despite the obvious, I don’t think I’ll grasp the meaning of the final song; i also skip this one so i don’t think about it

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hopevalley · 4 years ago

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@kvanbooven said: I wholeheartedly agree with the Rosemary line and thought it was weird when I watched it live. Idk if they were going for it to be a normal response and think people would think it was normal or if they were going for a bad response just so they could start a fight, but like Rosemary as Elizabeth’s best friend, would never say that to her. That makes her look so bad and not caring. I maybe could understand it if it was true what she said (like the rest of the convo of it not being Nathan’s fault) but it wasn’t true. Even if it was supposed to be a bad thing to saying on purpose in makes Rosemary and Nathan look like they don’t care about what Jack meant to her idk.

You know I always look forward to your thoughts!! Thanks for stopping by again. ♥

I think they wanted Rosemary’s reply to Elizabeth to be a “bad” response for the purpose of it causing drama/turmoil, but the thing about bad responses is...it still has to feel like a natural response someone might have to the conversation that’s taking place, and unfortunately Rosemary’s reply didn’t feel like that, at least not for me.

I can only guess, but I imagine what they wanted to do was give us an episode where Elizabeth is struggling so hard with everything she’s feeling that she doesn’t really know how to talk about it. If this was a novel it would be easy to write out all those feelings to make her reaction to people feel more natural, but I think the writers are really struggling with how to convey this exact type of struggle in a way that both makes sense for the audience and works for the characters.

I talked before about Elizabeth being a sort of selfish “everything’s about me” kind of person and she does that several times within this episode, so I feel Elizabeth is largely in character here. She turns Rosemary’s conversation about Ned and Florence into a discussion about her, for example.

The problem is Rosemary, and it’s not the character. She can be a bit stupid sometimes (she used to jump to conclusions a lot back in the old days, though mostly for humorous reasons) but her logic always tracked. In this episode we have two responses from Rosemary that don’t feel quite right. The first is her “maybe he didn’t think it was important” and the second is “it’s not Nathan’s fault.”

I get what they were going for, though!

It’s not Nathan’s fault Jack died so Nathan didn’t feel the information was important enough to reveal. It would just be upsetting and offer little else.

The problem is...the fact that this information was clearly weighing on Nathan tells us all that he knew it would be a big deal (and therefore important) to Elizabeth.

Which makes it really hard to make the same logic-leap that Rosemary does. The only thing I can assume is that Rosemary has largely been left out of the Nathan side of things; she doesn’t really know him very well (as compared to Lucas) and is just giving it her best guess.

But still, Rosemary knew that Elizabeth felt he was keeping something from her, and if Elizabeth got those vibes from Nathan, then that should tell Rosemary that Nathan is aware it’s not ‘unimportant’ at all.

I’m just going to have to chalk it up to poor writing. There’s no other explanation that works for me.

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@kvanbooven said: What you said about Nathan’s line too got me as well cuz I also felt the last line was out of place. It just don’t flow with the rest of the convo of him telling her why he kept the secret. When this scene was in the promo, I thought it was going to be a scene where Elizabeth was pulling away from him or she was past Lucas already and wasn’t sure if she wanted to be with Nathan or if she was telling him why she couldn’t be with him but could be with Lucas. Idk. Anything else that would have made more sense for that line to follow. I was also afraid of having Nathan coming to town to look after Jacks family, but because he never knew him, to me, it’s not that weird. I actually kinda like how he said I had to protect them rather than take care of them and that it was his duty.

Yeah, I was expecting his final line about fighting for love to be put into a scene where his willingness to fight for it was called into question. Until this season he was the quieter, less openly emotional character, and I could see where he might feel he needs to be a little more earnest in expressing his intentions—kind of like what we got right out of the gate with his love confession.

I’m not bothered by Nathan’s situation in regards to Jack, either. Both because he didn’t know Jack (as you mentioned) but also because he was very well aware of how odd the situation ended up becoming. He didn’t come to Hope Valley expecting to fall in love with Elizabeth. He didn’t know anything about her when he arrived!

It would be creepy if he’d known Jack well beforehand, or if Jack asked him to look after Elizabeth, but him feeling that he had a hand in Jack’s death (that he was the indirect cause of it in this case) makes the choice...more understandable. All he knew was that Jack had a family, and that nobody would be returning to the post there. So he took it upon himself to do what he thought was the right thing to do: go to Hope Valley and make sure the people Jack cared about were safe and cared for.

I agree with Rosemary that it’s a noble act. It’s not selfless, but it’s noble. I think they handled that aspect of the story extremely well. I was afraid of it happening because I was afraid of how it would be presented, but...they surprised me!

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@kvanbooven said: I will say in the handholding game I got major secondhand embarrassment and almost couldn’t fully watch the scene lol. Elizabeth’s look at rosemary right before fiona puts in the blindfold is absolute Terror. IM DYING ABOUT THE SPARKLY PEN THING. AND ABOUT THE DOCK THING. Haha cuz yes that was frank and Abigail spot and I loved them.

My husband and I were both shouting during the handholding game! It was just so awkward!! I would have thought it was pretty funny if we saw a bunch of people from town playing it, too, but having it be Florence and then immediately Elizabeth kind of took some of the fun out of it. I’d rather have had a gentler fall from “Cute and Fun” to “Secondhand Embarrassment City.”

I’m glad you enjoyed the other things, too, lol. ;)

@kvanbooven said: For the mine disaster, I don’t really remember what happened off the top of my head and if they ever actually really solved it. I think what Henry could know is either specific people or the specific thing that went wrong. I really love your theory about the first mine disaster. Overall wasn’t a bad episode and Lucas is starting to see he might not have a chance I think. Hopefully he’s the one that confronts Elizabeth about it all and makes her face her feelings.

I’m not sure what’s left to solve about the mine. I mean, everyone knows Henry was involved and the company was sued for negligence and the widows won. We got the name of the person who told Henry to shut up from S6: a Mr. J. Smith.

March 27, 1910 1231 Front Street San Francisco, CA 1819383

Re: Noah Stanton

Dear Henry,

After careful review, we feel your concerns regarding any safety issues are unwarranted.

Please consider this matter closed.

Best,

J. Smith Manager - North West Territory Pacific Northern Mining Company

The only resolution that never occurred were prison sentences for the guilty parties in question, so...maybe Henry has more names, or is willing to tell Bill the entire sequence of events that took place (rather than him having to piece together what he knows occurred).

I also think it was a pretty decent episode and I can see Lucas losing hope each and every scene he gets with Elizabeth. The poor guy. I agree that it would be nice if he was the one who prompted her to face her feelings and work through that last bit of grief she’s struggling with. It’s the only way I feel like I’d be satisfied with her choosing Nathan, now.

(They’re still on thin ice, though. If Nathan does anything else stupid or thoughtless I can’t imagine many people will still be rooting for him.)

#answered mail #kvanbooven #WOW sorry for the grossly long reply LOL #you know i can't shut up

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