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fanfic-scribbles · 4 years ago

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Smile

Fandom: MCU Captain America/Avengers

Summary: Bucky gives you some reasons to smile.

Quick facts: Romance – Bucky Barnes/Reader – Female Reader

Warnings: Fluff, puns, cheesy jokes, so cheesy

Words: 3344

A/N: I’m going to admit it upfront, about 40 percent of the time spent on this fic was spent on writing it. The other 60 percent was spent on finding the jokes. Also, this story is semi-inspired by the fact that my face is not nearly as expressive as it feels (I basically look like the polite cat meme when I really try and I can’t do it for long before my face hurts too much) so this goes out to other people who get accused of resting bitch/asshole face. And get written up for it. Anyway, please enjoy this goofy little Bucky/Reader get together.

‘How do you make a tissue dance?’

‘Put a little boogie in it.’

Bucky snorts and coughs when he accidentally breathes coffee instead of air. ‘That’s disgusting,’ he texts back but Sam just replies with an obnoxious smiling face. Bucky shakes his head and goes back to his coffee. It’s actually not so terrible today.

He doesn’t hang out in a dive, but this coffee shop is a type of quiet he almost never sees in the city. It’s too far from the tourism path for convenience and just outside the neighborhood purview where there are many other local (better) favorites. It’s clean enough and decently sized, but it’s decorated like it was supposed to be trendy ten years ago and the place is barely staffed, to match its perpetually nigh-empty interior. There was a short-lived attempt at hiring another person, but after a ridiculous amount of turnover the owners, or whoever, apparently cut their losses and the only constants that remain are Bucky, the lone customer, you, the person actually working the counter, and your manager.

You’re nice. You always speak kindly to Bucky and, when you think you can sneak it, upsize his cup without comment or charge. Also, one time when his glove broke and slipped off, you hadn’t even commented on the arm; you’d even helped him stop panicking enough to see it hadn’t gone far and helped secure it temporarily with a rubber band.

Your manager, meanwhile, is a dick who glares at Bucky and once made a snide comment about him leaning too close to the register, and only talks to you in demanding barks. Like now– but the five minute “hushed” conversation is winding down and soon it will be safe for Bucky to go get his refill.

“I’m writing you up,” the manager says.

You jerk back in shock. “For not smiling enough?”

“It’s what we got marked down for, it’s what’s going on your record,” he says, turns on his heel, and retreats into the back to do jack shit. Bucky glares at his back as he goes. His harsh expression turns to a milder frown when he looks at you, hunched over and staring at the counter with a dead expression on your face.

He looks at his phone, looks at his empty coffee cup, and makes a quick decision.

“Can I get a refill?” he asks when he’s in front of you, startling you out of your stagnant misery. You look up at Bucky and after a second force an unnatural smile on your face. He winces on your behalf.

“Of course,” you say softly, and turn to refill the cup.

When you hand it back to him Bucky shuffles, hesitates, but finally asks, “Why are colds bad criminals?”

You blink. “Uh…why?”

“Because they’re easy to catch.”

You blink again, and then let out a startled laugh. Bucky smiles slightly at the sound, and smiles more at the more natural, smaller turn of your lips as you say, “That’s…that’s a good one.”

“It’s pretty terrible.”

“All the best ones are,” you say, and the door chimes making Bucky break away. But as he watches you talk to the delivery man like normal he nods to himself. He leaves with his coffee to start the day and fires a quick text to Sam: ‘Where do you get your dumb jokes?’

The next day when the door chimes and you see your one regular customer, you let yourself smile a lot more naturally than you have been. Your face is starting to hurt and your boss is probably napping in the back, so you take the chance to relax.

“Hi,” you say. “The usual?”

“Please,” he says, polite as ever as he hands you exact change and you go to fix his cup. When you bring it back he asks, “What did the fish say when he swam into a wall?”

“What?”

“Dam.”

You giggle despite yourself. Bucky’s smile is small and guarded, but you haven’t had a moment yet where you haven’t been grateful to see it. Maybe this ‘smiling’ business is all it’s cracked up to be. If only it didn’t hurt your cheeks so much.

But as he tips his cup to you and goes to his favorite corner, you find you don’t mind the ache as much.

Every time he comes in now, he brings a new joke.

“What do you call a fake noodle?”

“An im-pasta.”

“What does a clock do when it’s hungry?”

“It goes back four seconds.”

“Why did the bike fall over?”

“It was two tired.”

The delivery is fairly flat but there’s always at least the hint of a smile and, you don’t know, it might be his absolute seriousness that sells it, because every one of them raises your spirits. You don’t know why he’s suddenly telling you jokes. For anyone else you might think they’re flirting, but you don’t get that impression here. He’s handsome, always looks put-together in quality clothes even if they seem picked for comfort over anything else, and even before this he has always been unfailingly polite. If he wants someone, he has to have someone just as lovely. Right?

You can’t help but think about it even after he comes back. And the wonderfully terrible jokes, thankfully, don’t stop.

“Why did the mushroom go to the party?”

You keep pouring the coffee while you ponder an answer. “I don’t know,” you decide and lift your head as you hand Bucky his drink.

The way he smiles is very fetching– not quite a smirk, it’s a little too unsure for that, but it tilts up to the side and gives him a boyish charm that would make anyone weak in the knees. “Because he was a fungi.”

It makes a smile big enough for you to feel, but considering how self-conscious you are now you quickly tell him, “I liked that.”

“I know,” he says. “You smiled.”

“You can tell?” Maybe you aren’t as bad off as you thought. Or maybe he’s just being nice. But he seems honest, and he nods decisively.

“I get not being the most…expressive.” He shrugs. “But anyone can still see it, if they look.”

The implication that he cares enough to look stuns you both to silence. He ducks his head shyly and lifts his coffee cup in thanks before retreating to his corner. When you finally have working vocal cords again you say, “Have a nice day.” It might be the first time you’ve ever really meant it.

“What’s the opposite of coffee?”

Bucky’s eyes widen and narrow in quick succession as he goes from surprise to contemplation. He weighs your question with all the dramatic seriousness you could hope for before he says, “I don’t know. What is the opposite of coffee?”

You grin when you say, “Sneezy.”

His smile is bright and he nods his head. “Not bad, not bad.” He leans on the counter, looking more relaxed than you’ve ever seen him. It’s…shockingly warming. You have to remind yourself not to get too close. He showed up out of the blue and he can be gone just as quickly. Just because he’s nice doesn’t mean he has any attachment here. In fact, you hope he doesn’t– you’d question his sanity otherwise. “Why did Mozart hate chickens?”

“I don’t know,” you say, eager to hear the answer.

“Because when he asked them for their favorite composer, they said, “Bach! Bach! Bach!’”

You laugh– that is, of course, when your supervisor pokes his head out of the back and scowls at you. He should be happy that you’re ‘smiling enough’ but you know full well anything you do is never going to be good. You freeze whatever expression is on your face as Bucky’s mood darkens and your heart sinks. “Enjoy your coffee,” you say, infusing meaning into every word. That ekes out a small imitation of a smile as Bucky raises his cup and goes to his seat.

Your supervisor starts to stalk over to you but you are saved by the sudden ringing of a phone, and he blessedly turns on his heel and goes to answer.

You sigh and start cleaning up the counter. Bucky is in his corner, hunched over and quiet as usual. He looks fine, but you feel bad for the interruption, even though you get the impression he understands. Still, this is one nice thing you’ve had in this otherwise miserable job and you’re not going to lose yet one more good person to your superior’s shitty attitude.

You push out a roll of receipt paper, scribble ‘Why did the espresso keep checking his watch?’ on it, and stick it in your apron. You walk over to wipe down an untouched table and, before heading back, make a little detour to drop it next to Bucky’s arm. He grabs the paper as you’re scooting away (plausible deniability in case your boss comes out) but it isn’t until you’re back behind the counter that you realize what that just looked like. Does he think you just dropped your number? He hasn’t opened it yet. Is he trying to figure out a way to let you down? You suddenly regret playing into this so much; he was just trying to be nice, he probably didn’t expect you to latch onto it so–

He opens the paper, reads it, and shoots you a little smirk. You breathe a sigh of relief and mindlessly wipe things down and rearrange well-organized creamers and straws until Bucky comes up for his customary pre-leaving refill. You’re a little disheartened it’s that time already, but it means you’re that much closer to the end of your shift, at least.

“Why?” Bucky asks quietly. It takes you a second before you remember the receipt paper and you surreptitiously check the back to see the door is closed.

“Because he was pressed for time,” you say quietly as you hand back his cup.

He chuckles. “I like it,” he says and takes a sip. “Thanks,” he adds as expected, but then he winks and you…you just stare at him as he leaves.

Should you have dropped your number?

A few days later, Bucky is caught off his guard and pays for it.

“What’s this?”

Bucky doesn’t get to his coffee cup fast enough and Sam snatches it and reads. “Sam,” Bucky grumbles but there it is, Sam’s eyes go wide and he turns that stare on Bucky. “Don’t look at me like that,” Bucky snaps and snatches his drink back.

“You’ve been using my jokes to hit on a dorky barista?” Sam asks and follows him across the room.

“I’ve been using jokes from the site you steal yours from to share with the nice woman who makes my coffee,” Bucky says and sits in a chair. He never stays for Sam’s group VA sessions and he should have left sooner, damn it. “I wouldn’t use yours. They’re gross.”

“Potentially inappropriate for a lady,” Sam says. Bucky opens his mouth to argue but, no, that’s exactly it, even though Sam’s tone implies something completely different from what Bucky would have said. “What’s her name?”

“Bucky?”

Steve has never been more of an actual hero to Bucky than he is right now. Right on time to walk back home with Bucky, Steve wanders in, sees the two of them, and stops. “Oh, should I…”

“Let’s g–” Bucky is immediately stopped by Sam’s hand on his shoulder.

“Bucky’s got his eyes on someone,” Sam says, immediately centering himself as Bucky’s most hated arch-nemesis.

…Okay, maybe not, but if Bucky didn’t have real problems he would be.

“I do not,” Bucky grumbles, because he knows it’s pointless and Steve is immediately sitting in front of them and leaning in like he’s the last girl at the sleepover.

“Really Buck? That’s great!” Steve says. “Have you…are you going to make a move?”

“No,” Bucky says and quickly runs down the situation, hoping that it will clear things up but knowing his friends too well. Indeed, Sam and Steve share smirks before looking at him again.

“You’re a real hero,” Sam says, only partly joking.

“I hate you,” Bucky says, ducking his head down. He doesn’t really blush anymore, if he ever did, but the motion is instinctive.

“You don’t.”

“I wish I did.”

Steve grins, as does Sam, and Bucky wants to duck into a hole. Goddamn mother hens, they’re going to want to–

“Should we come by?” Sam asks and leans back in his chair. “Be real wingmen?”

“No,” Bucky says, harsher than he means to. Sam and Steve don’t look bothered– they’ve weathered worse emotional snaps than that– but they wait for him to explain and Bucky doesn’t know if he can. Because what if this is leading to something? Is he ready for that? He thinks he might like you, but would he be okay putting in the effort of getting to know you? What if he can’t handle it? What if Steve and Sam walk in and they’re all you see? Both of them are plenty distracting, and charming, while Bucky can hardly put one foot in front of the other, some days. And what if this isn’t leading to anything, you’re just nice, and it’s nice, but Sam and Steve find out and look at him with all the pity they can muster?

“I just…want to see it through. On my own. Whatever this is.” ‘Or could be’ he leaves unspoken, because hoping for anything still feels like too much.

“Okay,” Sam says first, because of course he does, but Steve nods along quickly. It’s enough to make Bucky exhale deeply and relax muscles he didn’t know he had tensed. He rolls his eyes and stands up to cover for it.

“You’ll keep us updated though, right?” Sam asks, an easy grin on his face as he lounges in the chair.

“Like I’ll be able to avoid it,” Bucky mutters, finishes his drink, and lets Sam know they’re okay by throwing the empty cup at his head.

The fact that you’re running out of coffee-related jokes is stressing you out. You wanted to keep on theme but too many more days of this and you’ll be scouring the internet for whatever jokes Bucky hasn’t used yet. There are some coffee-related puns, but…the ones you like carry a romantic hint to them, and you were hoping to save those in case Bucky showed any interest. So far you haven’t picked up on anything, but you’re also very oblivious, and your roommate thinks you’re an idiot and he’s obviously into you.

But he might not be.

You do what you’ve been doing since your boss snarked at you about flirting on the clock and get Bucky’s cup ready with maybe your favorite joke.

‘How did the hipster burn his tongue?

He drank his coffee before it was cool.’

And smile proudly at it. Your small handwriting is getting better– Bucky barely has to squint at it this time, and he gives you a conspirator’s smile when he slides his twenty-dollar bill across the counter at you, with the neatest print writing along the margins.

‘What do you call an alligator detective?

An investi-gator.’

It’s cute and you snicker to yourself as you gather his change and place it gently in his gloved hand. He doesn’t retreat to his corner right away, though, and shuffles in place. “I was��I just wanted to say…” But then his eyes glance to your side and his face freezes in an unfortunately familiar way. “Thank you for the coffee,” he says woodenly and raises his cup just so.

“Of course. Have a nice day,” you say as robotically as possible and watch him go. Your supervisor clears his throat pointedly and you pretend like the place isn’t as clean as it was since the last time you went around. But now you’re thinking. About how awkward Bucky looked, and how he mentioned wanting to say something…maybe…maybe he is open. To you. Potentially.

Tomorrow, you decide with a thrill of nauseating adrenaline. Tomorrow you’re going to bring it up.

The next day you arrive at the shop at your usual time in the pre-dawn cold only to find an extra padlock on the door and a note in the window.

You stare, dumbfounded, and read the note. You read it again. And again.

‘Out of Business.’

But nobody called you.

You immediately grab your phone and dial your supervisor’s number. When he doesn’t pick up you call it again because this cannot be real. The job was shit but it was a job, and you knew what to expect, and you’ll never see Bucky again, will you?

It takes almost half an hour for the asshole to pick up– or maybe more, as the sun is starting to show up– and upon answering, he snaps, “What?!”

“What happened?” you ask, just as unkindly.

Your boss grumbles unintelligibly but you wait. “Did you see the sign?”

“I was working yesterday; no one mentioned anything about this.”

“Corporate called last night.” He yawns loudly. “I tried to call you.”

That’s a lie if you’ve ever heard one, but your tongue gets tripped up in anger and he says, “Sorry but there’s no room at the other branches for you, your last check is in the mail,” and hangs up.

You stand there for a while, trying to blink away tears at the sudden upheaval of your life. You should have found a replacement job while you had a chance. You should have asked your co-workers where they were going. You should have given Bucky your number.

You stand there for a little while, debating spending money you shouldn’t on a nice breakfast to wallow in, when the sound of footsteps coming up behind you makes you turn around.

“Oh, Bucky,” you say and rub your face. You think you’ve managed to hold it in, but it’s chilly and any exposed skin feels frozen.

“What’s going on?” he asks and peers around you at the note.

“Um…” You gesture uselessly. “Apparently this location is no longer in business. Just found out.”

Bucky’s jaw drops. “That asshole didn’t even call you?!”

The amount of anger on your behalf startles you. Startles both of you, actually, but just as he’s about to say something you laugh and say, “At least that asshole isn’t my problem anymore.” You sigh. You have savings, and the other job, and there’s always some other crappy job waiting for someone like you. But there’s something here that won’t be, and you pull out your phone and start typing. “Um…Bucky…there’s something I wanted to say to you. But it’s hard to say.”

“Okay?” he asks. You squeeze your eyes tight, brace yourself for impending rejection, and hold out your phone.

‘I like you a latte,’ followed by your phone number, hopefully gets the point across. After a few seconds your phone buzzes and you jump and bring it back, hoping no one texted you anything terrible while Bucky was staring at your phone.

It’s a new number, and the text reads, ‘It’s hard to espresso my feelings for you.’

You look up at him and he’s smiling, mouth parted slightly, and you start smiling so hard your cheeks hurt. But it’s okay. “I only had two more coffee jokes left before that line,” you confess and save his name to his number.

“Maybe you can tell them to me over breakfast? My treat,” he says and extends his arm.

You don’t even have to think about it. “Your treat this time,” you say, and link your arm with his. “In return, I’m going to show you where to get some good coffee.”

“Oh I don’t know,” he smirks at you. “The last place had its perks.”

Lacking a good comeback, you push your face into his shoulder to muffle your laughter. He leans into you, and doesn’t pull away even when you’ve gotten under control.

It’s the beginning of a brew-tiful relationship.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #avengers reader insert #captain america reader insert #fluff #stupid jokes (affectionate)#puns

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all-pacas · 3 years ago

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🌻🌻🌻

🌻 - when i get migraines, putting pressure on my skull helps for what i am sure are complex scientific reasons i do not understand. so i have this ancient skinny scarf that i keep entirely for the purpose of mummifying my head with when i have migraines, like right now for example. i got it when i lived in rotterdam -- my cousin's then-girlfriend took me out shopping for "fashionable" clothes and i remember we got an outfit i didn't like much but she said was very cool (a ridiculously scratchy green sweater as well as this scarf), and idk, sometimes i look at this scarf and laugh at this "fashion" item that i have had longer and used more than almost any other article of clothing i own

🌻 - my cat was part of a litter of three, him and his two sisters, all of them equally fluffy but with different coats: one a light gray and the other cream/orange. their mom was feral and not taking care of them, so they were taken from her when they were still pretty young and so some of my cat's weirdness i assume is because his mom never taught him Cat Manners. for example he is terrible at purring. he does silently purr quite a bit, you can feel it if you touch his throat (and he loves throat scratches so it's easy to check), but sometimes when he's really happy he like…… tries to purr? to make the noise? but it's like he isn't sure what you're supposed to do so it basically sounds like he's breathing loudly. he'll just be sitting there and you hear a "fffff" exhale sound, pause, "ffffff", pause, "ffffff." he's a pretty quiet cat overall. sometimes he locks himself in my bathroom and meows but even his meows are pretty weak sounding, like he's out of practice.

🌻 - all my life i assumed i hated tuna fish, because i guess as a kid i had it and didn't like it or something. it was just one of those quirks, but i'm not generally a picky eater and a lot of foods i disliked as a kid (mushrooms) i've come around on a lot, so recently i decided to try a tunafish sandwich again and now i'm kind of obsessed with tuna sandwiches. i just want tuna melts. tuna wraps. fish. it's weird. i really like it! that lowers the list of foods i do not like to liver (the taste is ok but the texture???), sauerkraut (i don't like sour foods and hoo-boy), and olives. i also have long assumed i dislike spam and cottage cheese, so watch this space for me trying them and becoming obsessed with those, too.

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aragima · 4 years ago

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hannibal questions! 🍖🔪

@nietzscheantrout @horrorlesbians and @hanniba1 wanted me to answer these hannibal questions and i wrote too much but oh well! thanks to all 3 of you ilu!!!

favorite episode and why: oh we’re just goin straight to the hard questions huh um OKAY so i think i can only do an ep a season - s1: SORBET SUPREMACY! you get to see the exact moment will looks at hannibal and thinks “.........shit. it’s him isn’t it. he’s The One. SHIT.” and that is so important to me - s2: this one is really hard maybe naka-choko? it’s so fucking gay and sexy. but tome-wan... but mizumono............ yeah idk - s3: torn between digestivo and the wrath of the lamb cuz they both hurt SOOO good much; i love will breaking up with hannibal and hannibal manipulating the situation so will can’t leave asldkjansk it’s so toxic we have to stan..... and for twotl i mean do i really have to give a reason every scene LIVES in my mind and it contains my favorite shot in the whole show:

that is LOVE baby! that is DESIRE! that is being ENTHRALLED!!!!

least favorite episode and why: i feel like they’re all so necessary that it’s kind of impossible to say but probably antipasto. i get sick of hannibal and bedelia’s shenanigans really quickly and as much as i hate to admit it... i miss will. i also think it was an extremely weak season opener and i blame it for getting the show canceled sjshshsgsg the resentment...

favorite side character: chiyoh or jimmy or actually wait— RANDALL TIER 🖤

if you could bring back one character who died, who would it be?: RANDALL FUCKING TIER. i want there to be a weird thing with him and hannibal and will going on. but also i love what his death did for will so idfk, other than him it’s gotta be beverly

dish prepared in the show that you would like to try eating/making: i was supposed to make hannibal’s osso bucco recipe like 3 weeks ago but it completely slipped my mind so i guess i’ll get on that my next grocery trip

which side character would you kill off?: chilton just because for god’s sake just let the man DIE ALREADY poor guy <- i’m taking ava’s answer because YEAH

was there any scene that you didn’t like to look at?: nah. the skin ripping scenes at the beginning of either kaiseki or sakizuki (idk i don’t remember, i hardly watch s2a) are particularly brutal but i tough it out

biggest ship: i mean do i even have to say

why did you start watching hannibal?: my wife, who was my girlfriend at the time, and her dad were watching it as it was airing and i was like “oh cool hannibal lecter origin story” but due to inconsistent access to the episodes i would just watch it randomly and that is... not the way to watch hannibal. i gave up around the end of s2 but knew hannigram was It regardless. i decided to watch s3 for the first time earlier this year just to have finished it and was like HOLD UP and did an immediate rewatch that left me... well, how i am now

favorite hannibal fic if you’ve read any?:

oh boy. yall ready for this? all of these can be found on ao3 obviously (i’m so sorry this is so long but i guess i’ve been asked to put together a fic rec anyway)

as soft, as wide as air by blackknightsatellite, the ladders series by emungere, blackbird by emungere, consenting to dream series by emungere, taken for rubies by emungere, at first meeting by emungere, protect me from what i want by @alienfuckeronmain, god of the cold, cold wars by highermagic, the abyss smiled back by highermagic, pomegranate seeds by highermagic, absolute zero by highermagic, in the truly gruesome do we trust by sidnihoudini, TKO by sidnihoudini, oh dear by lunarwench, each according to its kind by chapparral_crown, a flood in our hearts by nanoochka, let me sinful be by darlingred, uncomplicated by stratumgermanitivum & youaremydesign, good bones by @damnslippyplanet, like they do in babylon by @damnslippyplanet, your obedient servant by kareliasweet, past our satellites by shotgunsinlace, only the tender meat by isagel, the shape of me will always be you by missdisoriental, a white-walled room by rodabonor, spleen et idéal by rodabonor, the paper doll series by rodabonor, a common point of interest by rodabonor [i do NOT like a/b/o stuff but if i did... it’s this fic], just thought you should know by earthsickwithoutyou, the sacrificial lamb by princesskay, transcendent suffering by itsbeautiful, not something polite by moistdrippings, leave your message after the tone by onewhositswithturtles, holes in the floor of the mind by feverdreamblood, crossing caina by feverdreamblood, the archipelago series by melusine10, but seas between us braid hae roar’d by kareliasweet

have you watched any of the hannibal films?: yeah all of them except manhunter! i grew up watching silence of the lambs because my mom loved it and i went thru a big edward norton phase as a teen so i’ve seen red dragon like 10 times

have you read the thomas harris books?: no and i’m not going to lmao #fakefan

favorite murder tableau: if we’re talking just hannibal’s- the judge. if we’re talking Murder Bad But Kinda Pretty like in general probably the mushroom people or the totem

favorite blood spill: will imagining hannibal while he beats randall to death or The Gutting of Will Graham

what’re some of your headcanons?: - will is good at shibari (backed up in canon: his fishing knots, the firefly man’s full body hishi karada harness) - hannibal rarely listens to modern, non-classical music but he’s a björk fan and he saw one of her chapel performances during the vespertine era and was Moved - will listens to classic rock (zeppelin, the doors, pink floyd) with some classic country (patsy, merle, johnny) and blues (billie, muddy, bessie) thrown in. he’s also a sucker for early/mid-90s college rock/alternative/grunge - will plays the piano (because of the piano in his living room) and the harmonica (because he’s country white trash); he’s kind of shit tho - hannibal fell for will somewhere between “my thoughts are often not tasty” and “you won’t like me when i’m psychoanalyzed” (love at first sight! at last sight! at ever and ever sight!!!) - will’s circumcised, hannibal isn’t 🤪 - hannibal’s a gemini!!!! adaptable, creative, intelligent, outgoing, impulsive, etc - will’s an aquarius!!!!! analytical, a loner, temperamental, unique, compassionate, etc - will’s mom was jewish go read my fic about it https://archiveofourown.org/works/26774326 - hannibal is an agender man (tbh i think of this as canon, it’s just unstated/undefined) - hannibal can speak russian, spanish, and a teensy bit of portuguese in addition to the other languages we know he speaks (lithuanian, english, french, italian, japanese) - will speaks limited amounts of french; he learned it as a kid in louisiana - ED TW will sometimes has a Difficult relationship with food due to food instability by the way of poverty as a kid and goes through periods where it’s hard to keep himself fed, but hannibal is so good for him in that way because he keeps him from going hungry 😓 (yes this is me projecting but also it makes SENSE) - hannibal typically bottoms but THEY DEFINITELY ARE BOTH VERS and will never stops being surprised by how much he loves catching a dick. every time is like religious experience. okay? okay - they’re also both very kinky and switches but tbh.... will was made to Dom hannibal like that’s the reason he exists he could drag that old bitch around by a leash and hannibal would be in heaven HANNIBAL WOULD CALL HIM SIR - the first time they have sex hannibal comes like immediately but he isn’t embarrassed because he’s hannibal fucking lecter and hannibal lecter doesn’t get embarrassed - i have a hc for their favorite sex positions but i’m not gonna put that here because i don’t want yall calling me crazy any more than you probably already do but if you wanna know just DM me all i do is think about them fucking it’s a curse - okay no more dirty stuff abigail called hannibal “dad” on more than one occasion and it was half-joking but it also felt comfortable to her; she never thought to call will “dad” because he’s a weirdo and never knew her as much as he knew his idea of her - hannibal taught her to play piano at the cliff house - beverly is pansexual!!! - brian and jimmy kissed one time when they were drunk and they NEVER talk about it EVER - chiyoh is straight probably. i know, i know, everyone says she’s a lesbian and if she’s a lesbian to you that’s awesome! she’s a lesbian! but idk i just think she’s SO fucking straight and tbh i mourn bc that’s my wife. she could MAYBE be bicurious... - chiyoh is non-monogamous and doesn’t do serious relationships, she doesn’t like the idea of being tied to one person ever since she left the lecter castle - she helped hannibal and will escape after The Fall; she told hannibal she would continue to watch over him and i think she did, she got them a boat and got them the fuck out of there - MOLLY IS DOING SO MUCH BETTER WITHOUT WILL. SHE’S SO GLAD SHE GOT OUT OF THAT WHEN SHE DID. she has a good, long talk with alana and finds out all the shit about him and hannibal that will never told her (and it was a lot), gets drunk and burns all his shit, and then washes her hands of the whole thing; moves to a different state, gets a girlfriend, and never thinks about will again

okay i’m capping it there or i’m never gonna stop!! i’m not tagging anyone cuz i think everyone has done this by now lmao but if you’re a mutual who hasn’t and you want to just do it and say i tagged you!! mwah!!!!

#blood #long post #hannigram fic rec #hc

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the-pigeon · 5 years ago

Text

wishing well

summary: After the events of Selfishness vs Selflessness Redux, Roman finds himself back at a wishing well he and his brother made when they were younger. He has a few things to wish for

warnings: talk of blood, murder, death etc all from remus, roman and remus are sympathetic but whether everyone else is is up to interpretation i guess, crying, i have two betas and yet this has absolutely no beta

ao3

(this was just meant to be 500 words and now its 3804 how did this happen)

Before everything went wrong, Roman remembered he used to go to the wishing well.

There were lots of wishing wells in the Imagination. There were lots of towns, lots of people. It made sense. But this wishing well sat far away from any fake people, surrounded by trees and vibrant wildflowers that were constantly in bloom and mushroom circles that Roman swore weren’t there before, but he wouldn’t have been surprised if his brother had come here just to set up some fae circles.

The wishing well was smaller than he remembered. That or he’d grown taller. It was also much more damaged, in disrepair. Chipped stone, overgrown moss, the remnants of what looked like blood stained some of the grass near the base, confirming his suspicion that Remus had been here before him.

He stood in front of it. The water at the bottom smelt just plain bad. With a flick of his hand, the well filled up, this time with much more fresh, clear water. For good measure, he fixed the crumbling stones it was made of. When he tried to clean the blood up, it didn’t leave. He decided to ignore it.

Now with the clear water, he was forced to face his reflection. His hair was sticking up left, right and centre, and even though he wanted to say it was the wind’s fault, he had nothing to blame for it other than his nervous hands, no matter how much he wanted to blame the trek here. His eyes were slightly red. He hadn’t cried yet. That, he was proud of. He wouldn’t cry. He shouldn’t cry.

Slowly, he dipped the tips of his fingers into the water. It rippled out softly, destroying the perfect image of his reflection. Hah, perfect. As if anything about him was perfect. No, no, he had messed everything up, and it was all his fault. If only he wasn’t so stupid, and impulsive, then he wouldn’t be in this mess.

It was a low blow, making fun of his name, but he just couldn’t help it because he was stupid and mean, and nothing like what Morality said he was supposed to be.

Sighing, he fished one of the coins out of his pocket. When he and Remus were kids and made this wishing well, they made certain coins that could be used, and only those coins. Roman only had three left. A part of him told him that the wishing well wasn’t real; it wouldn't actually make any of his wishes come true more than him simply summoning something in the Imagination would make it real, but there was something about the ritual of tossing the coin and watching it sink that was different. Whether it was different in a good way or a bad way was still up for debate in his mind. Did the difference between the two even matter?

He held the coin above the water. What would he even wish for? Nothing material, that was for sure. He could just summon it. No, he had to wish for something more important. Something he couldn’t easily get.

He hated that ‘a hug’ was the first thing coming to his mind.

Maybe he could wish to be a better person. It was pretty open ended, but it was more or less the exact solution to his current problem. He was bad. And he wasn’t meant to be. He was meant to be the good one. So why was he so… bad? He was just bad.

He let the coin drop into the water. It barely splashed. And then it started to sink.

“I wish I was good,” Roman said. The words felt almost out of place as they echoed softly around him. A nearby bird squawked at him before taking flight towards his brother’s side of the Imagination. No doubt going to tell him all about Roman’s disgusting display of weakness.

He should probably head back to his room before he has to face Remus again. But Patton was probably outside his room, trying to get in. Trying to ‘comfort’ him, as Patton would try for everyone, because Patton is amazing and wonderful like that. Or maybe he’d just leave Roman, going to instead comfort Janus. It wasn’t like either of them deserved Patton’s kind words, but at least Janus was more important. Everyone else was more important. Except maybe his brother.

Wow, there he goes again, being just horrid and impudent. Maybe his brother was better than him. Maybe Janus had a point. Maybe Roman really was the evil twin.

Something splashed in the water in front of him. He opened his eyes. Ah, his eyes. He was crying.

He quickly scrubbed the tears away. He refused to cry. He had a standard to live up to. To be perfect. Perfect people don’t cry.

Perfect people don’t have such horrible thoughts.

He sighed, wiping away the last of the tears.

Something croaked behind him. He turned to face a small frog perched on one of the nearby rocks. Of course. Just another way for the Imagination to punish him. He should’ve been nicer to Patton, to avoid everything that happened. He tried to be nice to Patton; it’s what he deserved. After all, Patton was the one that gave him—him—the job of being the good one. He had to live up to that.

He looked back at the water, staring at his reflection and watching as it started to look less and less like himself.

“What’d you wish for?”

Roman startled, nearly jumping forwards into the water. He spun around to face none other than his brother, giving him a surprisingly blank look with his morning star resting by his legs.

“Pardon?” he said, trying his best to regain his composure.

“I said what did you wish for?” Remus repeated, gesturing to the well behind him. “I doubt you’re here just to look at old stone or whatever. So you must’ve wished for something. What’d you wish for?”

“It’s not important,” he snapped, turning back to the water. Of course his brother had come here. It was probably that stupid bird. “Go away.”

“No, I don’t think I will.” He came up behind him, giving a quick kick to the back of his knees and chuckling when he stumbled forwards a bit.

“What do you want, Remus?” he said.

“To bother you. It’s fun. Hey, do you think we could’ve bought a bomb into the wedding? Dee didn’t let me throw the cake, but we could’ve at least blown it up.”

“That cake was delicious, how dare you.”

Remus shrugged, dipping his whole hand in the well water and watching as it slowly turned a dark shade of gray around it. “Could’ve still eaten the explosion cake. If you’re not a coward.”

“I’m not a coward,” he scoffed.

“Then why’d you run away from Morality, of all people?”

He didn’t say anything to that. Instead, he fished out his second coin, fiddling with it in his hands. Remus stared at it for a few seconds before going back to swirling the water around, now with two hands.

“Do you want my advice?” he said, flicking some water at Roman.

“Not really, no.”

“Too bad. If Patton ever starts to annoy you, just hit him over the head until his brain falls out and splats against the floor. And then for good measure you should remember to remove his heart, because most of his thought processes come from there instead.” He took a moment to laugh at that. “And then you get to stab his dead body all you want.”

He shook his head. It was his brother’s job to think of… those thoughts. He had no obligation to do that. Patton doesn’t deserve to be thought of like that. Especially not by Roman.

“I’ve always dreamed of doing that,” Remus continued. “Of just splitting his skull open. Oh, or standing on his spine. Or pulling his eyes out. Or-”

“Please shut up,” Roman mumbled into his hands, covering his face.

“Tell me why you’re here of all places and I will,” he shot back. Roman could swear that he sounded almost… angry. “You haven’t been here for years. Why now?”

“It’s not important,” he said.

“Oh? Well, anyway, Patton’s boring. What if I set Virgil’s hair on fire? He’d get all jittery. Maybe he’d set the house on fire in the process. And the fire would smoke Logan out, and I could stab him too, and Patton would be there too and I could stab him again. Heh. That’d be fun. I could stab you too. And then I could rip everyone’s hearts-”

“Do you know his name?” Roman said. A part of him wanted to be comforted, even if by his brother, but mostly he just wanted to shut him up. Those were Patton-deemed Bad Thoughts, and he wasn’t bad. So therefore, he couldn’t think about those Thoughts… Right? Yeah, that made sense.

“Deceit’s?” Remus asked.

He nodded.

“No. Believe it or not, he’s super secretive. Always told me he’d only share his name if he had no other choice, which I think is stupid.”

Oh. No other choice? Was that really how he felt? Oh, God, what did Roman do this time? No wonder Janus was so mad at him.

“I mean, it’s a name,” he continued, completely unaware of his brother’s breath speeding up. “It’s not like it’s gonna kill you or anything. Actually, if you yelled it loud enough it could explode your brains. Or some cake. Exploded wedding cake.”

But Janus wasn’t trustworthy! That was the thing, wasn’t it? That was what he was always told. He was good, everyone else, all of the ones that were forced to hide in the dark, that lurked behind closed doors, they were bad. Janus was bad. He lied. And lying was bad.

“I wonder if you yelled at the cake loud enough, would it explode? And then it could explode into Deceit’s ears. And if you put a bomb in the cake, then put the cake in his ears, it would explode his ears!”

But by that logic, then Remus was good. He never lied. If lying was wrong, then that would mean honesty was good. And Remus was honest. So he would be the good one. And where would that leave Roman?

“He’d definitely go deaf. And he’d probably die too. He doesn’t like it when I kill him, so I probably shouldn’t do it again. But it’s always so much fun licking his blood off the floor! Tasty. And covered in dirt. The best mix.”

Roman was an actor. He was constantly on a stage, constantly performing, constantly lying. Lying and lying about everything. About how he’s feeling, about how much motivation he has to write, about how much he trusts himself. And if Remus was his metaphorical narrative foil, then wouldn’t he, by default, be bad if Remus was good?

“Dirt and blood, dirt and blood, dirt and blood. Put it in a mixing bowl and put in some eggs. Beat it together and what do you get? Salmonella. Sally, sally, salmonella-”

“Deceit told us his name,” Roman said. Truthfully. He had to be the good one, and honesty was good, so he had to be honest. No other choice. “And Thomas hates me. And Patton is trusting Deceit now. More than he trusts me, I think.”

“Oh,” Remus said. “Sucks to be you.”

Ugh, why did the truth hurt? Why was it blurring his vision? Why did the well water in front of him suddenly look like the best place to put his head for at least ten minutes?

“Have you tried hitting them over the head?”

“Can’t say I have,” he sighed.

“You should.”

Roman wanted to say something else, but the truth hurt, and he couldn’t say anymore.

“Well!” Remus said, pulling his hands out of the well and shaking them off like an excited dog. “I’ll keep my end of the deal and leave you alone now.”

He turned around, jumping on the wildflowers to kill them as he walked away. Away. Away, and leaving Roman alone again. Wasn’t that what he wanted?

Be truthful, Roman, he told himself.

“Please don’t leave me alone,” he whispered.

God, what was he doing?

Remus paused mid-air, turning around and staring at Roman. He quickly lowered his eyes. Looking at his brother was unbelievably difficult.

He made a noise reminiscent of a laugh. “Fine, okay then,” he said, dropping to his feet and sitting on the other side of the wishing well to stare at the outskirts of the trees around them.

Roman sat down opposite, leaning on the well and closing his eyes. He decided not to speak. Remus made no such decision.

He was talking. About something Roman didn’t want to listen to. And yet he listened. He told himself it was because he had nothing else to listen to, but he knew he would be lying again. In a sick, twisted way it was calming to listen to him ramble and rant. Which he hated to think about, but it was either that or admit that he really was that desperate for company. It was either that or actually pay full attention to what he was saying. It was something about rat poison and giving Virgil an ‘I’m sorry’ cake.

It was disgusting. Remus was disgusting. That was decided years ago, before high school. Remus was disgusting, and Roman wasn’t. Morality decided that—Patton decided that. And today Patton was wrong. If Patton could be wrong about Janus, then what if he was wrong about…

“Do you think Patton was wrong?” Roman said, cutting Remus off before he could finish his description of how he would make Virgil eat his apology cake.

He scoffed. “About what?”

“About saying you were bad and I was good?”

For the first time in what felt like forever, Remus didn’t speak. A whole minute passed. He had left, hadn’t he? Of course he did. He left, and Roman was alone again, as he so deserved. Even Remus couldn’t stand him.

Soon enough, he was crying. He didn’t want to. He wanted to be perfect. He tried to stop himself, but he was so tired and now he was alone so what did it matter? Only he could see his failures now, and he already hated himself. What did it matter? What mattered? He was alone.

“I don’t know what Patton said to make you think that, but I can assure you he’s wrong.”

Oh God, oh no, Goddammit. Now his brother, of all people, was seeing him cry. Of course he wouldn’t leave now. He was probably ecstatic to see Roman cry.

“I mean, you’re amazing!” Remus continued. Roman could feel his presence above him, could feel the shadow cast over him by his brother. It was strangely comforting. “And I’m disgusting. I’m purposefully disgusting, and yet people still put up with me. And it would seem to me that you being so perfect is just an accident, so I’d say you’re the good twin.”

He wanted to speak, wanted to argue that Remus was wrong, wanted to convince him that he was terrible, that he didn’t deserve to be spoken of like this, but hearing Remus say that? He couldn’t bring himself to say anything.

“Hey, stop crying,” Remus demanded. “Stop crying so you can agree with me.”

“But you’re wrong,” he choked out through a sob.

“Then fight me.”

That managed to get a small, not-happy but not-sad laugh out of him. “I’m not- I’m not going to fight y-you.”

“Why not? I’m always down to hit you over the head. It’s the one thing I’m good at.”

Another laugh, this time much sadder.

“Tell me I’m wrong! Stop crying, stand up, and fight me! Or keep crying, I don’t know.”

Well, if keep crying was an option.

Roman pushed the tears out of his eyes, not bothering to stop crying, and forced himself to his feet. Through his blurry vision, he could see Remus standing ominously close, with a Look on his face that Roman couldn’t begin to explain.

He still had that coin in his hand.

“Fight me,” Remus said again, putting his hands on his hips.

He dropped the second coin in the water, watching it sink to the bottom before turning back to face Remus. Waiting. Expectant.

“I wish some- someone would give me a- a hug,” Roman said, feeling his shame cloying and tugging in his stomach, telling him to stop, telling him to take it back, telling him to run before Remus could do anything. But he was stupid, and God, did he want a hug.

He wiped more of his tears away, forcing his eyes down. He couldn’t look him in the eyes. He just couldn’t.

“That’s not fighting,” Remus said. Why did he sound so… whiny?

“I’m sorry…”

“Hey, apologising is Patton’s job, shut up.”

And then Roman suddenly felt a whole lot warmer. A lot more solid. A lot more real.

Remus was taller than him. He noticed that now, as he placed his head on top of Roman’s. It was a surprise he hadn’t noticed it sooner. It wasn’t that much of a difference, but it felt so much better than the few hugs he’d gotten from Patton.

His hands were warm. When had Roman taken his overshirt off? Who knows. What he does know, is that the feeling of his brother’s hands against his back was the nicest thing he had ever felt in his entire life. It's grounded. It's warm. It’s… strangely soft. Strangely delicate. As if someone actually cares about Roman.

He lets out another sob, shaking slightly as he returns the hug, desperately clinging to Remus’s shirt and crying into his shoulder. For a moment, he worried he would be mad for getting his shirt wet, but it only took a few seconds for him to realise that Remus probably wouldn’t care at all. So he lets himself cry. Lets the sobs rack through his body, lets the tears soak into Remus’s shirt, lets it out. It’s cathartic.

A lot more solid. A lot more real. A lot more loved.

“I’m gonna kill whoever hurt you,” Remus muttered.

Roman laughed, burying his head in his green sash. “You shouldn’t.”

“Telling me I shouldn’t do something just makes me want to do it more, you know that right?”

"I know."

They stood wordlessly for a little longer, the only sound between them being Roman's occasional sniffle, almost always accompanied by Remus saying something under his breath that Roman was sure he wouldn't want to hear. Despite that, it really was so much more comforting than absolute silence.

"Remus, can I… ask you something?" he said, doing his best to keep up his voice steady.

"Sure."

"Do you think I should, uh, duck out?"

"No," he said quickly, almost immediately. "No, absolutely not."

Despite what his mind was screaming about, Roman pushed Remus away. God, was he always this cold? A part of him wanted to pull his brother back into the hug, but he knew he shouldn't. He just shouldn't.

"Roman, look me in the eyes, you coward."

Coward. It was strange that that didn't hurt. It should've hurt more. And yet it didn't. He wished he was smart enough to understand why that was, but like always, he was just stupid.

"You're not stupid," Remus said.

He spoke out loud, didn't he? He laughed again, sadly, before finally looking him in the eyes. He knew his face was red, knew his eyes would be puffy and wet, yet he didn't have the motivation to care.

"I'm not?" he said. "I beg to differ."

"Then beg, because you're definitely smarter than me."

"What, like it's difficult?"

Remus laughed—no, cackled, playfully pushing Roman's shoulder just a little bit too forcibly. He stumbled back a bit.

Other than Remus’s soft laughing, they fell back into silence.

Roman sighed. “It’s just… I’m not necessary, am I?”

That made Remus stop laughing. “Why’d you say that?”

“Because you exist! Just by you being here means that even if I duck out, Thomas would still have his creativity!”

“You do realise that that is the dumbest thing you’ve ever said?”

Roman began to speak, but Remus cut him off. “As much as I’d love full creative control, you’re still incredibly important! I mean, I’m gross! It’s probably help if Thomas liked his creativity, lol.”

“Did you just say ‘lol’ out loud?”

“I did, yes.”

“You disgust me.”

“That’s kind of my job.”

“At least you’re good at yours.”

Remus nodded, as if he was thinking, which Roman doubted. Eventually, he shrugged. “Sucks to be you, I guess.”

Would it be worth it to spend his last coin on another hug?

“Either way,” Remus continued. “You shouldn’t duck out. Because people like you, and they’d be sad.”

“Either way? What either way?”

“Whether you’re good at your job or not. People still like you.”

“I find that hard to believe,” Roman muttered under his breath.

“I don’t.”

It was worthless, wasn’t it? Remus was incredibly stubborn, not as much as Roman, but still very stubborn. He couldn’t change his mind.

And change his mind to what? To thinking he was terrible? That he was bad? Here was someone saying he was wrong in thinking those things about himself, and he was trying to argue with them? Isn’t this what he wanted?

“RoRo? You good?”

But did he deserve it? Did he? Did he deserve anything?

“Oh no, you’re crying again.”

This was Remus, his brother, the person who should hate him the most, and he was saying he was wrong. He didn’t lie. He said what he meant and he meant what he said. Did Roman want to be admired by Remus?

“Come here, you big baby.”

If he was honest (and he tried to be, he did, but it was difficult), he didn’t want to be admired by Remus. Not when he had spent so long trying to separate himself from his brother, trying to show that they weren’t the same anymore, but he didn’t care about that right now, because right now he was being hugged again, and god, it felt so good.

“You really need to work on talking about your feelings,” Remus said, running his hand through Roman’s hair. It wasn’t gentle, and it was barely comfortable, but it was definitely comforting.

Roman said nothing in response.

Remus lowered them to the ground. “We’ll talk about this later. When you’re not crying. But you can cry right now. I’ll stay right here.”

True to his words, he did stay there.

It was the nicest hug Roman had ever received.

#mimi writes #sanders sides #fanfiction #creativitwins #roman sanders #remus sanders #hurt/comfort #ts spoilers #Are we still tagging spoilers?#who knows #anyway this is my first fic im posting on tumblr lets goooo #im going to go eat some fish and chips now and when i come back this better have at least 5 notes #or else i'll riot

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johnsbleu · 5 years ago

Text

Hold My Hand: John Wick x Reader Chapter 74

warnings: nsfw Hold My Hand Masterlist

The rain has been falling steadily for over two hours now, and even though it’s only a little after four, it looks like it’s nearly 8 at night. The rain on the trees outside is so serene, and every so often, you can hear the thunder in the distance. Since you can’t really hear it, you walk over to the window and open it a little.

The plan for today was to go to the festival that's happening down the street, but since it's raining out, you're fairly certain that no one is even there. It would be fine to walk around in if it was just a light sprinkle, but it's a pretty good storm. The lightening is flashing every few seconds and the thunder is never far behind, which is your absolute favorite.

John is fast asleep on the couch, and he has been for about an hour. You know you’ll need to start some dinner soon, but the banging in the kitchen will wake him up and you want him to get as much rest as he can. Plus he looks absolutely adorable right now and you don’t want to disturb that.

As you walk past the couch, you look over and smile when you see John still asleep. He has the pillows from the couch over his arms to warm himself up, so you grab the blanket off the chair and tuck it around his chest and his arms while a small spreads across his face.

When you walk over to sit in the chair near the window, John grabs your back pocket and pulls you back to him, and he sits up a little to let you sit next to him on the couch. You tap your thigh and he places his head in your lap, squinting his eyes open to look at you.

“What are you up to?” he whispers, then pulls you down to kiss him.

“Just watching the storm, it's getting worse. I need to make dinner soon but since you’re napping, I hate to bang around in the kitchen.” you say softly as you trace your finger over John’s face, “So I thought I could just order some food for us.”

John nods his head lazily and closes his eyes, “Pizza.”

You unlock your iPad and check out a few places that are near the tree house, and you continue tracing John’s face until small snores escape past his lips. You lean down and press a kiss to his forehead, and he snuggles even closer to you.

“Ah!” you yell as you run up the steps, and John quickly opens the door, reaching out for you, “I’m soaked!”

“You should have just let them walk up the steps.” John takes the food from you and points to the bedroom, “Go get dried off. I’ll get dinner all set up.”

You shiver as you walk back to the bedroom, and you quickly pull off your clothes and toss them in the dryer when you pass it. Since you and John have no plans for the rest of the night, you decide to just throw on one of his t-shirts, and you can’t wait to see the reaction you’ll get.

John opens the bag and begins taking the food out, “I don't even know what you got me, but it smells amazing.”

“I got pizza! That’s what you told me you wanted.” you laugh as you walk back out to the kitchen, “Don’t you remember?”

“Nope.” John’s gaze immediately falls from your eyes, and he looks at you up and down, taking in the sight of you in his shirt. He swallows hard and licks his lips when you pull his shirt tighter on your chest to show him you’re not wearing a bra, and you both laugh when you make eye contact again.

“I’m just teasing.” you pull out the pizza and hold it up, “Mushroom, sausage, and pepperoni. Just for you.”

John closes his eyes and tilts his head back, “Have I told you today that I love you?”

You laugh as you take out the pasta and hold it up for John to smell, “Eggplant Parmesan with linguine. Oh, and I got us some dessert as well.” you open the fridge and put them away, “We’ll save that for later.”

Looking out the window, you exhale in relief when you see the rain is coming down even harder. It’s nearly impossible to see across the lawn, and the rain is pelting against the windows.

“Good thing they delivered.”

“I wouldn't have let you drive in this,” he laughs as he sets the food on the coffee table, then he waves you over, “Come on.”

You smack your lips together as you sit down on the couch and fold your legs under you, immediately taking a big bite of your food. John offers you a bite of his pizza and you nod your head as he feeds you.

“That’s good. I usually don’t care for mushrooms but that’s really good.” you feed John a bit of your food, and he gives you a thumbs up as he chews.

When you set your plate on the table, you notice a wrapped up present, and you groan loudly as you look over at John and roll your eyes.

“What?” he asks with a mouth full of pizza.

You point at the present and cover your mouth as you chew, “More gifts?”

“I thought it was for me.” John laughs and grabs it, “It was in my suitcase, in a side pocket.”

“It’s not like…some hidden gift from Helen or something, is it?” you ask, carefully reaching out for it.

“No.” John laughs and sits back on the couch to finish his pizza, “I didn’t have this suitcase then. Open it.”

You rip the paper off the box and open it to find a note tucked inside. You unfold it and laugh, “Makes sense. Tess.”

“It’s from Tess?” he asks, leaning over to look at it with you to read the note, “Hey, you two. Found these when we were in Rome and I tucked them away. Thought it’d be fun for the two of you. So, enjoy. Oh, and I also added a few of my own.”

You and John look at each other in confusion, then you reach into the box to pull out a stack of cards. There’s a few that are just ripped up sheets of paper, and you know those are the ones that Tess wrote.

“Conversation starters.” you say as you look at a few, “This could be fun.”

John is already on his third slice of pizza, and when you go to grab your fork, you notices he’s been eating your food too. You laugh and get up from the couch to get something to drink, and you look over at John as he shuffles through the cards.

“I’m asking first.” he says, then takes a big drink of water, “Question one, oh, I actually don’t think I know this. What are you allergic to?”

You sit back on the couch and open your bottle of water, “Fish.”

“Really?”

You nod as you take a sip of water, “Yup. Figured that out when I was 12. Dan used to keep an eye on me and Tess when my mom would work late, and he had brought some fish over to cook. You know me, I’m a picky eater, but everyone was eating fish and I didn’t want to be left out or be rude for not eating it.”

“So, you would have rather died than be left out or rude? You really are an angel, you know that?”

You laugh and shake your head, “No! I didn’t know at the time that I was allergic. I ate a little bit of it and my face just…got super red and itchy, and I couldn’t really breathe. Gave Dan quite the scare.”

John is hanging on to every word you say, and he leans in for more, “What happened?”

“He took me to the hospital. My mom was working and nearly fainted when she saw her baby girl being carried in.” you laugh, and John widens his eyes. “They figured it out within a few seconds and I was fine. I just can’t eat fish, which is perfectly okay with me since, you know, it’s gross anyway.”

John puts his hand over his heart and exhales, “I can imagine how scared your mom was. I would probably almost faint too.”

You chuckle softly to yourself and look up at John, “So, uh, when we went to that restaurant in Rome and we ordered the steak, that was mostly because I couldn’t eat anything else on the menu. And also the other night when you offered me Caesar salad dressing…”

John’s eyes almost fall out of his head, and he cups your face, “Oh, my god!”

“It’s okay.” you laugh and cover his hands with yours to keep them in place, “It’s okay. It’s just sometimes it has anchovies in it, so I obviously can’t eat it. Don’t worry it’s not like a severe allergy, so I’m okay. What about you? Are you allergic to anything?”

John takes a deep breath and sighs, “I’m so sorry, I almost killed you. Twice!”

You scoot closer to John and wrap your arm around his shoulder, “No, you didn’t, baby. I’m fine. Anyway, what about you?”

“No,” he shakes his head and grabs another card, handing it to you, “I’m not allergic to anything.”

“Question two.” you look at the card and laugh, “Oh, well, I know the answer for you. Have you ever broken a bone?”

John lets out a sweet laugh and nods his head, “Yeah, I broke my leg when I was, like…14. I broke my ankle when I was around 34. And I broke my nose a few times. My ribs, a lot. My arm, my hand, uh, I think that's it. What about you?”

“So, basically all of them?”

John nods, “Pretty much.”

“Broke my right arm when I was 16.” you look at John and laugh, “Gymnastics.”

John takes another card and smiles, “Tess wrote this one. Are you part of the mile high club? That we are.”

“I still don’t believe I was your first time up there.”

“I promise you were the first I’ve ever had sex with on a plane.” he says, laughing when you jokingly squint your eyes. “I promise!”

You cock up your eyebrow, “So, you’ve done other stuff then?”

John laughs as he shakes his head, “No. You are the only person I’ve done anything with on a plane.”

“But how do I know that?”

John lets out a laugh and shrugs, “I don’t know, you just believe me. I’ve never even been on a plane with another woman who I wasn’t working with. And Helen and I flew on an actual airline. How would I explain a private jet?”

“True.” you smirk, “But you worked with other women.”

“That would have all killed me within a second if I let my guard down.” he says, shaking his head.

“Okay, but I mean, doesn’t that like…add to the whole thing? That you’re an assassin and she’s an assassin. Both dangerous and beautiful.” you say, dramatically draping yourself on the couch, “We’re in love, but we’re enemies. No one can know about this love affair.”

John is watching you with the biggest smile on his face, and he laughs when you look over at him. “Yeah, trust me, it’s not hot. Last thing on my mind when I’m working, to be honest.”

“But once you’re home…” you wink and point at yourself, then lay down on the couch, sprawling out, “Take me, Jonathan.”

“Anyway,” John laughs and shakes his head as he pulls out another card, one from Tess, “Were you nervous the first time you had sex?”

“Like…together, or just the first time ever?”

John shrugs, “I’m assuming you and me.”

“Oh,” you laugh, then look over at John, “Were you nervous?”

“Yeah, I was nervous.” he nods, looking at you, “I was so nervous that, I don’t know, you weren’t going to be into me, or that I wouldn’t be…good. It had been a while for me, so I hoped that I would still be good. And you’re younger than me, so I don’t know.”

“You were perfect, John. It was, by far, the best sex I’ve ever had, and I’m not just saying that because we’re together. I really mean that. I was nervous though.” you say, then you try your best to imitate John’s deep voice, “You’re older than me, so I don’t know.”

John laughs, “You teasin’ me?”

“Yeah,” you laugh, leaning over to kiss John, “But seriously, I was nervous. I know I’ve told you before that I was nervous because it was the first time I wore lingerie, but I was just nervous too, because I really, really liked you, and I just hoped that even after we had sex, you were still gonna be around.”

John gestures to himself, then he points at your engagement ring, “I’m still around.”

“Were you really so nervous because I’m younger?”

He shrugs, then nods a little, “A little bit. I just hoped I could keep up with you.”

“Oh, you definitely do. You have amazing stamina, usually it’s me who is out of breath first.”

John grins, then he looks down at the next card, “First to say I love you.”

“You.” you smile, leaning over to kiss John, “You had told me already that you were falling in love, but you hadn’t straight up said you loved me yet. Until I came to see you at the hotel. You told me you loved me for the first time while we were having sex.”

“Ah, making love.” John corrects, and you roll your eyes. “I had always meant to tell you before, and if I’m being honest, I had planned to tell you the day you found everything in the basement. I was so excited to get home to you just so I could tell you. Then you found everything in the basement, and I…”

“Didn’t want to risk it, I get it.”

John laughs, “No. You were yelling at me. Did you really want to hear that I loved you in that moment? No. You would have said that I only said it to stop you from leaving.”

You nod your head and look at John, “You have a point. I mean it would have been a bad time to tell me, to be honest. I would have probably said that. God, I hate how well you know me. Even back then, you just…knew me.”

John smiles proudly as he grabs another card, “Name two things your partner does well, and one thing you wish they did better.”

“Tread carefully, Wick.”

John tilts his head back against the couch and looks up at the ceiling, “I already know what I wish you would do better.”

“Being nice to myself, blah, blah, blah. I know.” you laugh as John nods his head, “It’s a work in progress.”

“Two things you do well…uh, you make delicious food. Since we’ve been together, we cook together a lot, and I swear you could make a cookbook, you’re incredible.” he smiles and puckers his lips for a kiss. He chuckles and looks down at his lap, “And another thing you do well is...”

You look down at the crotch of John’s pants and smile, “You can say it. I know you’re dying to say it.”

He laughs and shakes his head, “You’re very understanding. That’s something you do well, you understand me. You understand me like no one ever has, and I truly mean that.”

“Two things you do well. I can think of like…a million. You’re very patient with me, which I appreciate so much. I know I can be a handful, so I really do appreciate how patient you are with me.” you take a deep breath and squint one eye as you think.

“Oh, I thought you could think of a million.” John teases.

“I’m trying to pick a really good one.” you laugh and stretch your legs out across John’s lap, “Can I just be cheesy and say you love me really well? Because you love me the way no one ever has and it’s incredible. Yeah, I’m gonna go with that because the smile on your face is killing me.”

John’s smile grows bigger on his face as he leans over to kiss your cheek. John is always affectionate, but today it’s in overdrive. “Next question. Most romantic thing the other has done for you. I would say--”

“I never do romantic things for you. I’m a shitty fiancee.” you laugh and roll your eyes when John shakes his head. “Okay, what’s a romantic thing I’ve done?”

“Setting up my bookbinding site. That was so sweet of you to do.” he smiles, and you can tell he’s being completely sincere. “I would have had no idea how to do that, but you did it for me because you wanted me to do something that I loved. And I also think it was pretty romantic that you were my first client.”

You shrug playfully and blush, “I’m so proud of you. I’ll never say it enough. I am so proud of everything you’ve accomplished with your bookbinding. I’m so happy to see you so passionate about something, I just love listening to you talk about it. Your eyes just light up, it’s honestly the most wonderful thing to see.”

“Come here.” John whispers, and you crawl closer to sit in his lap. He kisses you tenderly and smiles as he tucks your hair behind your ear, “What about you? What’s the most romantic thing I’ve done?”

“Made me a little journal for us to leave notes in, flew my mom out when you proposed, gave me the best proposal ever,” you begin to count on your fingers, and John laughs. “Had my favorite camera fixed, given me jewelry and flowers just because. Bought me a fucking book shop, flew me to Italy, surprised me with this place. Shall I continue?”

John buries his face in the crook of your neck and laughs, “I get it.”

“You’re very romantic, but even if you didn’t buy me this stuff or fly me places, the little things that you do are my favorite.” you say, and John leans back, “Making me breakfast, always wanting to be near me, wanting to hold my hand. Telling me that you miss your lips on mine when we haven’t kissed in like…an hour. It’s the little things that matter the most to me.”

John holds your gaze for a moment and starts to laugh, “My cheesiness is rubbing off on you, isn’t it?”

“Unfortunately.” you laugh as you grab another card. “What is one thing you wish you could change about your relationship? Oh, I got one. I wish that you and I got to do things that new couples get to do. Like, when you move in together, you get to buy all the stuff you need for your house or apartment, I'm a little sad that we didn't get to do that stuff.”

“Really?” John asks, and you nod your head. “Well, we do need a new couch. Our living room could look better, I was thinking that we need a new rug in there too. We could always redo that. Our den that we never use, that could use a little attention. We'd probably use it more.”

“Thought it'd be good for when we have kids. Their playroom. It’s right next to the office, so we can always keep an eye on them if we’re working or something.”

John smiles as he nods his head, “Great idea. When we get home, we can go get some stuff and fix up the house. Might even paint the living room too.”

“Well, we need to fix up the baby's room anyway. I'm not pregnant, but I think once I get pregnant, everything will fly by, so it's probably best that we start fixing it up. Plus, I just want to do it because I'm excited.”

“Me, too.”

You look at the next card and read it, “What is your favorite physical feature on one another? Well, that’s just dumb, because you’re going to say my--”

“Smile.”

You laugh and scrunch up your eyebrows in confusion, “What? Since when?”

“Since always.” John smiles, “I’ve always loved your smile. You have a cute little dimple on your right cheek. It’s tiny and you can only see it when you smile really wide. But I love your smile, nearly fell to my knees the first time I saw it.”

“Oh, god.” you roll your eyes and laugh.

“That’s another thing I would like you to do better: take compliments.”

You laugh again and shake your head, “That was like…three questions ago.”

John watches attentively as you move to straddle his waist, and he bites his lip a little when you ease down on his lap. He places his hands on your waist to pull you a little closer, then he smiles when your gazes meet.

“So, just my smile?” you ask, playing it coy, “There’s nothing else that you like on me?”

John chuckles, “I like everything on you. I also like everything…off of you, if you get what I mean.”

You roll your eyes a little as a smile spreads across your face, “John.”

“Okay, okay…” he laughs, then he moves his hands from your waist down to your thighs, “I love your thighs, how soft and warm your skin is on my fingertips…”

“And…”

John watches his hands as they move under your shirt, then he lifts it up so he can take a look. He pulls the shirt over his head and leans his head against your chest as you laugh. Looking through the neck of the shirt, you smile at John and shake your head.

“Yes, these are good too. Very good. So round and perky.” he says, then he leans back a little to suck on your nipple. He finally pulls your shirt back down and looks at you, “You have a very beautiful face. You have really nice hair too! Your legs are good, and your tiny feet.”

Huffing loudly, you frown a little since John is saying everything but what you want him to say, and he clearly thinks it’s hilarious. You move John’s hands to your ass, and you give him an encouraging smile and nod.

“I think that’s it.” he says, then he laughs loudly when you slouch against his chest. “I’m kidding! You know I love your ass. I have a whole nickname that I call you because of it. Of course I love your ass.”

You lean back and look at John, “Why do you tease me so much?”

“Because I love when you get so frustrated with me.” he says softly as he leans up to kiss you. He grips your ass in both hands and smiles, “I love your ass, but the truth is, I would never be able to pick just one thing. I just love everything about you.”

Rubbing your thumb against John’s cheek, you lean down to kiss him once more, “That’s sweet.”

John puffs up his chest and smiles, “What’s your favorite feature on me?”

You grab John’s biceps in your hands and squeeze them tight, then move them lower to his hands, “Honestly, I don’t think I could ever pick. Your eyes are incredible. You have the most beautiful shade of brown I have ever seen, and you have a really nice shape to them. I hope our babies have your eyes.”

“With your smile.”

“Pfft.” you scoff and play with John’s hands, “You have nice hands. I think I’m in the same boat as you though. I’d never be able to pick.”

You take a deep breath and laugh as you look out the window at the storm. It’s still raining incredibly hard, and you get up to open the window a little more. You inhale the smell of the rain and close your eyes as you turn around to see John has been looking at you in awe this whole time.

“Kinda crazy how in love with you I am.” he whispers, pulling you onto the couch.

You laugh quietly and look over at the mess you and John have made on the coffee table with all of your food. You sit up a little to start cleaning the dishes when John grabs you by the waist and pulls you into his lap.

His breath is hot on your neck, and you close your eyes when his hands slide up your thighs to your stomach, then to your breasts, and he squeezes them in his hands. He pulls your shirt up a little to feel your skin under his fingertips, and he nips at your neck and shoulder as you begin moving on his lap.

“I have a question. Have you ever had an orgasm like you have with me?” he whispers against your skin, out of breath.

You shake your head and smile when John begins to slide his hand into your underwear. You tilt your head back and moan softly as he inserts his fingers with no hesitation, and he laughs quietly when you squeeze your legs shut.

“Mmm,” you hum and look over at John, “One of the best feelings.”

“Just one?” he asks, and he watches as your gaze travels down to the crotch of his pants. “Oh.”

You kneel in front of John and slowly unzip his pants, killing him with anticipation. He leans forward to kiss you, then he presses a kiss to your forehead before sitting back and watching you.

“Your cock…” you whisper as you pull him out of his boxers and stroke him, “It’s amazing.”

John laughs quietly and opens his mouth to moan when you slowly lick the tip of his cock with your wet tongue, then he sits up a little to get his pants pulled down more. He sits back down on the couch and places his hand on your forearms, almost in desperate need of physical contact with you.

“Tell me what you want, John.” you say, looking up at him as he tries to keep his eyes open.

“I…I, uh…” he tilts his head back and moans as you press wet kisses all over his cock, thighs and balls, “I wanna feel your mouth around me. I wanna see my cock in your mouth.”

John places both hands on your head as you begin to bob up and down, and he watches intently, holding your gaze the whole time. Taking John as deep as you can, you close your eyes and hear John let out a breathy moan, gripping your hair a little tighter. You slowly slide him out of your mouth and try to catch your breath as you stroke him.

“Needy.” you murmur and smile, “I’m so needy for you tonight.”

John laughs, “I don’t mind.”

“You know, I actually have a really bad gag reflex…” you say as you sit up a little to kiss John, “But it’s like…nonexistent when I’m sucking your dick. Weird, right?”

The look in John’s eyes as he leans down to kiss you again causes you to shiver, and he slips his tongue into your mouth before you move back between his legs. You close your eyes and hum, leaning forward to take John into your mouth again. You feel John so deep in your throat that you’re a little surprised you haven’t gagged yet, then again, he tastes and feels amazing.

“God, look how deep you’ve taken me.” John says, slowly pulling himself out of your mouth as he watches in awe.

As you stroke him and suck on him simultaneously, you know he won’t last much longer, so you decide to give him a few more deep strokes.

“You really are so beautiful, you know that?” he whispers and cups your face to bring you to his lips.

“I just had your cock in my mouth, of course you think I'm beautiful.”

John shakes his head and holds your gaze, “I mean it. You’re the most beautiful woman I have ever seen, you’re unreal.”

Standing up in front of John, you reach for his hands and help him off the couch, then walk over to the kitchen counter and lean over it as John pulls your underwear off. You hear his belt hitting the floor and look over your shoulder a little to see him kicking his pants off.

You gasp loudly when you feel his cock between your legs, and John tugs your shirt over your head, tossing it on the floor. The granite from the counter is cold against your skin as you lay on it, and you smile to yourself when John begins to thrust his hips.

“Oh, fuck.” he whispers, and you look over your shoulder at him as he closes his eyes and tilts his head back, “Fuck, baby.”

When John jerks his hips hard, you lay on the counter again, gripping the edge as hard as you can without breaking a nail. The sound of John’s hips against your ass fills the room, along with the rain falling outside and John moaning.

“The bed, John.” you manage to choke out as you look over your shoulder at him to see his face is red and sweaty.

You turn around and wrap your arms around John’s neck as the two of you walk back to the bedroom, and you keep your lips pressed to his the whole time. He gently lays you down on the bed and crawls on top of you, gazing at you.

“My pretty girl.” John rubs the back of his hand against your cheek and smiles as he moves lower between your legs. He’s pressing kisses all over your thighs, purposely avoiding your pussy to tease you, “You’re so swollen for me.”

“You fucked my brains out last night, what do you expect?” you laugh, then you hum when he sucks on your thigh, leaving behind a red mark.

John wraps his arms around your legs and pulls you closer to him, and his beard against your thigh causes you to giggle. He licks along your pussy and smiles when he sits up to look at you, “Fucking delicious.”

You spread yourself open further for John and smirk, “Worship me, John.”

John immediately buries his face between your legs and licks you feverishly, and you arch your back and moan softly. He reaches for your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours as you sit up a little to watch him.

John’s tongue is incredible and the longer he’s between your legs, the faster you’re on your way to an orgasm. You want to finish tonight with John on top of you, so you grab his bicep and squeeze it to get him to look up.

“Come here.” you whisper and watch John as he crawls back up to, pressing kisses to your body along the way, “You’re so good to me.”

You smile at John as he pulls his shirt over his head, then you open your mouth to moan when he slips back in between your legs. Closing your eyes, you place your hand on John’s chest as he slowly rolls his hips, hitting your hidden spot relentlessly.

“Look at me.” John whispers, leaning closer to your face, “Look at me, baby.”

You slowly open your eyes and moan loudly when John starts rubbing circles on your sensitive clit, “Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck.”

John’s breathing is getting heavier, and he’s slowly laying down on top of you, which means he’s nearing his end already, and you don’t blame him one bit. You tilt your head back and put your hands above your head, holding tight to the bars on the headboard as John lays down on top of you. A thin layer of sweat covers your bodies, causing you and John to stick to one another, and you wrap one arm around John’s neck when he jerks his hips so hard that you scoot up the bed further.

You push John’s shoulders a little, then roll over onto your side as John positions himself between your legs again. He places his hand on your thigh and lifts up your leg a little to move in deeper, and the two of you moan in unison. John is breathing heavily against your neck, and he wraps his left arm over your chest to grab your breast. You tilt your head back a little to kiss him, and you smile when you see him looking at you.

“You’re all I think about.” he whispers in your ear and presses a kiss to your cheek when you moan, “You like that?”

“What you’re doing or what you said? Because I like both.” you laugh and look back at him again. “Harder, John.”

John keeps a tight grip on you as he thrusts his hips harder and harder, and you bury your face in the pillow as you let out a scream of pleasure.

“Look at me.” he pulls you closer to his chest and smiles when you look at him, “Look at me when you come.”

He leans closer and smiles as he jerks his hips harder, spilling into you as you come with him. Your body quivers as you’re overcome with pleasure, and John keeps a tight grip on your hip to keep you on his cock as you slowly roll your hips and ride out your orgasm.

“Mmm,” John hums as he kisses you and rolls you over onto your back, “My sweet girl.”

“I can’t deny how much I love that.” you whisper against his lips, “When you call me your girl.”

“You are my girl.” his gaze drops from your eyes to your lips, and he bites his bottom lip when you smile a little. “I love you.”

You nod your head and close your eyes, “Yeah, I love you too.”

You wrap your arms around his neck as John sneakily slides his hand between your legs and rubs you gently. You hold John’s gaze for a moment before kissing him until your mouth starts to hurt. He presses a kiss to your forehead before laying on the bed, then he inhales deeply then slowly lets it out as he looks up at ceiling.

“Sorry.”

You roll on your side and prop your head up, “For what?”

“Well, we were having fun with those cards.” he frowns a little and looks over at you, “Then I got carried away.”

“It’s okay,” you laugh as you get off the bed, and you head back into the living room to grab the cards. You grab a bottle of water for the two of you, then quickly walk back to the bedroom, “Look, we can still do some more.”

John takes the bottle of water from you and nearly drinks the whole thing within twenty seconds. He offers you the last of it, and you laugh as you trade him the cards for the water.

“Okay, let’s see…” he shuffles through the cards and smiles, “First car? My first car was…well, I worked mostly in New York when I was younger, so I would just get a car from my…”

“We’ll just say employer.”

John laughs, “Sure. Or Aurelio would give me a car to drive, so I guess my first car would be my car now.”

You smile at John and cup his face, “That’s sweet that Helen bought you your first car.”

“Yeah,” he nods and shuffles through the cards, “How about you?”

“Okay, well, for starters, no one bought my car for me.” you laugh and look at John, “It was my car that got Tess and I here. A 1997 Ford Explorer.”

“I hated that car.” he laughs, leaning over to kiss you, “I’m sorry, but it was a piece of shit.”

You laugh loudly and nod, “It was, but when I lived back home, Dan knew someone who worked at an auto shop, so I always got it fixed for a lower price. Once I moved to New York though, that went out the window.”

“We really need to get you a car. A nice one. You deserve something really nice.”

Inhaling deeply, you nod again and grab the cards from John, “I do. Next question.”

You spread the cards out in your hand and put them out for John to chose one. His hand hovers over them and he pulls out a card in the middle of the stack.

“Ooh,” you perk up and look at John, “If you could relive a year in your life, what age would you chose?”

He looks up and gestures to you, “You first.”

“You’ve lived longer than I have, and you’ve been through more, so you go first.”

John furrows his brow as he laughs and he leans over to kiss you, “Fine. Uh, I actually don’t wish to relive any year. I really like my life now, and I like the way my life is going. Months ago you told me to stop thinking ten steps ahead and you told me that I needed to just live in the moment with you, and I have. So, I wouldn’t want to relive any year.”

A smile spreads across your face as you and John look at each other. You’re honestly a little shocked that John didn’t say that he wanted to relive a year with Helen, then again, he wouldn’t want to hurt your feelings.

“I truly mean that,” he says, tucking your hair behind your ear, “Don’t go thinking that I’m just being a kiss-ass. I really, really mean that, peach.”

“I don’t think I can top that one.” you laugh, “I would agree with you. I don’t wish I was living in any other year. I love this life, and I love the life that we’re creating together.”

“Are you sick of these cards yet?” John laughs as he takes them from you, “We still have quite a few left.”

You look out the window and see the rain has stopped and the clouds are finally starting to disappear.

“A little bit. How about we clean up the food, then sit on the deck for a bit?” you lean over to kiss John and look down at your bare chest, “And maybe put some clothes on.”

“I don’t know, I think you’d make a great nudist.” he says, laughing quietly as he moves your hair off your shoulder so he can get a better look at your chest.

You laugh as you get off the bed, “Yeah, well, with little miss Shiloh running around here, I’m not risking it.”

John chuckles as he gets off the bed and grabs some boxers and pulls a pair of pants on, buckling them as he walks over to you. After you pull on a summer dress, he reaches out for your hand and intertwines his fingers with yours as the two of you walk back into the kitchen.

“Oh, man.” you laugh when you see the mess you’ve made, and John smiles as he walks over to grab his shirt from the floor.

The two of you quickly put away your leftover food, pop the dishes in dishwasher, then you and John head for the patio. When John sees the chairs are covered in water from the rain, he turns around to grab some towels. Drying off your chair, he kisses your cheek when you sit down, then he pats his legs for you to put your feet in his lap.

“Perfect way to end the night.” he says, looking across the lawn and squinting his eyes a little, “Sunset looks beautiful.”

The sun is slowly setting, and the sky is like cotton candy. Blues, and pinks, but it’s slowly turning into a nice peachy color. The clouds are slowly disappearing, and you’re praying that tomorrow won’t be rainy even though this sunset is honestly one of the most beautiful ones you’ve ever seen.

“Actually, I do have a question for you: what is something I don’t know about you?”

“That’s a tough one.” John says and looks over at you, “You know pretty much everything there is to know about me.”

“Oh, I definitely don’t. Tell me about a job. Tell me about that horse story.” you laugh, “You said Jimmy would like to tell me, but I want to hear it from you.”

John’s cheeks turn a little red from embarrassment and he shrugs, not knowing what to say.

“You were in the city…” you say, trying to help John along. He grabs your feet in his hands and squeezes them as he sighs. “Jonathan, oh, my god. Just tell me.”

“Sorry.” he laughs and shakes his head, “It’s like I don’t even know where to start.”

“Wherever you’re comfortable.”

He takes a deep breath and sighs again, “Well, Bleu and I were just…running, and I had one coin left, so I used it to make sure Bleu would get to the hotel safely.”

“See, this is why I’m so in love with you. Well, one of the many reasons. Jonathan, you were running for your life, but you had Bleu and you knew you needed to keep him safe. You used your last coin to get him to safety.” you put your hand over your heart and smile, “My heart is literally going to burst out of my chest.”

“He’s important to me.” he says quietly, almost a little shy to admit it.

“I know he is, baby.” you lean forward and cup his face, “And he loves his dad.”

John presses a kiss to the palm of your hand, then watches as you sit back and wait for him to continue. “So, after I left Bleu, I…god, are you sure you’re okay with this?”

“Yes. Ten thousand percent.” you shake your head and smile, “John, I’m not going anywhere.”

He nods and exhales, “After I left Bleu, I had to…go to a few places. And anyway, I had no way to get away from these guys.”

“They were coming from everywhere?”

“Yeah,” he nods, looking up at you, “They were everywhere. Everyone was looking for me.”

“Can I ask you something?” you ask, and John immediately nods. “How much was it? Your…uh, your worth? I don’t know what else to call it.”

“Bounty.” he says, leaning his elbows on the table, “Well, it started out at seven, then went to 14. Honestly, I’m not entirely sure where it went from there.”

You exhale and shake your head, “I can’t believe people can just…put a price tag on someone’s head like that. I mean, the guys that you get hired to deal with aren’t good people.”

“I’m not…innocent, you know?” John tries to hold your gaze, but he can’t, so he looks away.

You scoot closer to John and rest your hand on his forearm, “I don’t care what you’ve done in the past, or what you do now. Because I know, deep down, that you’re a good man. I know the people that you deal with aren’t good people. You’re special, Jonathan.”

John scoffs and shakes his head, then he starts to smile when he’s sees you’re being completely genuine.

“Do you remember when we watched that one movie? The guy was a real creep? Later that night I asked you if those were the kinds of people that you deal with, and you said yes. Then you told me that you couldn't even begin to tell me the things that they had done because it would make me sick?”

“Of course.” he says, nodding his head.

You let out a small laugh and squeeze his hand, “You're not like that, and you never have been. I know that. I know that you're a good guy and you would never hurt an innocent person or a child. I know that, and you know that. That's the line that you won't cross, and you have morals, John. That's why you're so special, and that's why you're not like those people.”

John reaches out and places his left hand on your cheek, “Thank you.”

“John, you do realize how selfless that was, right?” you ask, and John furrows his brow a little. “You were literally being hunted down. At any moment, you could have been killed. You could have easily left Bleu on the side of road.”

“Well…”

“Yeah, he tends to follow you around, I know.” you laugh, then get serious again, “But you could have left him, you could have just given him to some kid or something. But you didn’t. Because you, Jonathan Wick, have the most amazing heart, and you’re so fucking selfless. See, I really could go on and on about you.”

John leans over, pressing his lips to yours and smiles, “I like it.”

“You are going to be the best father, John.” you murmur against his lips, then lean your forehead against his for a moment. “I got off track, keep going with your story.”

“Anyway, I was running and had no way of transportation, so I ran into a…stable.” he says, laughing when he sees your face.

“Like…for the horses that take people on carriage rides?”

“I think?” he shrugs, “I have no idea. I just got in there and tried to stay alive. Got a horse, got the fuck out.”

You put your hand over your mouth as you laugh, “So, what does this have to do with Jimmy?”

“He saw it!” he laughs, “I guess he saw me. He has to tell you the story though, he’ll act the whole thing out.”

The two of you continue laughing, and it slowly fades as you watch the sunset. Every so often, John squeezes your leg to get your attention, and he smiles when you look at him. He takes a deep breath and sighs contently.

“So, what about you? What’s something I don’t know about you?”

“Hmm…” you look up at the sky as you think, then you clasp your hands tight, “I, uh, have never told you this. I should have probably told you sooner, and when you told me about Helen, it was the perfect time. I know you’re going to probably be mad at me, but…I have been married before.”

John looks at you carefully, trying his hardest to read your face. He furrows his brow and shakes his head, “Nope.”

“Yup.” you nod, “His name was Justin. We were 19, and we…just went to Vegas and got married.”

“Really? What did mom do?”

You widen your eyes and grimace, “She was pretty mad, but after she met him, she really liked him and she came around.”

“She liked him?” he asks, frowning a little. “I thought she didn’t like anyone you dated…except me.”

“Oh, she loved him.”

“Why did you never tell me this?” he asks, then he starts to smile when you laugh loudly, “You are so full of shit.”

“Don’t lie, I had you for a moment there!” you laugh as you sit in his lap, “You were so sad for a minute. Aw.”

John shrugs a little and kisses your cheek, “I won’t lie, I was sad for a moment. I want to be the only man you ever marry.”

“And you will be.”

taglist: @tnu-ree @dangerouslystrangecrown @weird-civilian @callmeglenncoco @sanctuarygirl @meetmeinthematinee @jessicajones616 @artistic-discontentment @cheekybluefox @jazzyboo2001 @starsstripesandthesouth @a-small-independent-princess @thepastrecedes01 @rubywantsafuitgummy @sterekislyf @lostandfaceless @sweetgoodangel @racharr @star017 @ladyren33 @whatcolourisanorange @lunaticgurly

i’m sorry if i’m tagging you and you don’t want to be, just let me know!

#john wick imagine #john wick x you #john wick x reader #fic: hold my hand #i wasn't going to even post this chapter i was gonna dump it tbh #but i spent the time writing it i might as well post it i guess #idk be nice and enjoy some smut fjdkslf;

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ziracona · 5 years ago

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Do you have any favorite drinks and foods headcanons for ilm?? I feel like Meg would like Shirley templess 👀

Hmmm for sure but there’s so many characters I don’t know how to comprehensively answer this, haha. Meg probably would enjoy that. I think she drinks sometimes for fun or bc it seemed like a good idea at the time, but actually prefers non-alcoholic, because it’s not that great to her, and also because you have to not take your adhd meds if you plan on drinking that day as they interact, and amphetamine > depressant lol. I think she enjoys fruity mixed non-alcoholic stuff a lot. Specially if it got that 👌 zest 👌 to it.

Meg is a huge nerd who likes most of her favorite foods for fan reasons. Her favorite food is chocolate chip cookies with blue chocolate chips because of Percy Jackson. Favorite drink she would probably say is coke, but in reality it’s probably some kind of non-alcoholic cocktail she wouldn’t think to name.

Jake has a proficient pallet from being rich and can actually tell a huge difference in food quality, but hates this and is determined not to be the spoiled rich shithead who only deins to eat from a plate prepared by someone who graduated prestigious culinary school at the top of their class. Has forced himself to acquire a taste for lean meats and nuts. Would request like salted cashews if Meg was getting snacks & she’d throw a fit bc mixed nuts isn’t a treat and he would be offended she was judging his pick. Secretly really appreciates diligently and artfully prepared food. Does not like lamb. He will hunt and there’s not much he feels bad about eating, but he saw a lamb going to get slaughtered as a kid and absolutely will not stomach that as food ever since. Would feel weak & has probably only mentioned it to Dwight, or maybe Claudette, bc she’d never judge or be mean, or maybe Quentin, Kate, or Adam, because Quentin & Kate would agree, and Adam is like, the chillest man ever.

Dwight likes sea salt and vinegar chips, beers, Pepsi, pretzels, steak, and (secretly) those frosted animal crackers. Gets shit constantly for his taste in food and drink. Just wants to be left alone. One time Claudette drank a beer with him to make him feel better bc everyone else was making fun of him for liking beer and she is sweetheart.

Claudette enjoys a dish her mom makes out of fried onions, squash, artichokes, and optionally also mushrooms, probably more than any other food in the world. It is really good. Favorite drink is sparkling grape juice. It makes her feel like she is drinking champagne, but it actually tasted good, and won’t get her drunk or hungover. Also likes tea a lot. Most green and white tea types especially.

Nea likes almost anything with a cronch when you bite into it. Enjoys fish too, and curry the way Min makes it (which is very rushed college student but like, rushed college student with standards). Really likes empanadas after being introduced to them. Also genuinely really loved both Claudette’s amaranth oatmeal and her realm cookies, and since she and Quentin kind of ‘grew up’ inside the realm, it’s also like, surreally and kind of heartbreakingly, a nostalgic and comforting childhood memory to her. They remind her of times she was more okay as a teenager. :’-] Favorite drink is probably a kind of complicated cocktail that is very strong but also sweet and tangy, nursed for a long time. Or a sports drink if she’s on the go. (Lol her fave drink is just the alcoholic version of Meg’s).

Min likes anything spicy that is prepared well, but especially likes meat dishes. Girl wants her protein so she can kick ass. Really loves Ace’s cooking. Smell is 70% of taste. Spice it up, fam. Only knows how to cook 3 dishes on her own, but they’re a good 3. Doesn’t have a single fave. Although she does greatly enjoy just like, devouring a slab of meat if Anna cooks. It makes her feel like a powerful wild beast to just shred a flank with her teeth and she digs that. Fave drink is baijiu, although more in a competitive way because it’s alcoholic af & she can stomach it than actually for taste or pleasure. For taste she will just mooch off Nia & Ace, who both like fruity alcohol.

Ace likes a homemade bread recipe of his mother’s most (I think he and Frank are the only two with stated favorites in-fic?). Makes it a lot for the girls and for friends, and everyone likes it so this works out well. Enjoys martinis and any fruity alcohol, but is good about not actually getting drunk past lucidity. Also enjoys just really nice brands of various juice (mango is probably his favorite?)

Quentin likes his Dad’s pasta recipes probably most, but doesn’t have a favorite from among them. Also likes red velvet cake a lot because he only ever gets it on his birthday and it makes him happy. His mom died when he was really young and he pretty much doesn’t remember her, but one of the memories he still has is of her giving him birthday cake. It’s the time of year he always feels closest to her. Favorite drink is energy drinks because he’s stupid and likes to play god with his body and knock back adderall with shots of redbull. Didn’t like energy drinks so much before Freddy, and back then probably Coca-Cola or something was the fave, but now energy drinks are associated with comfort in his head, so he genuinely likes them. Also really likes M&Ms. Used to treat himself to a bag from the school vending machine if he had a shitty day, so they are also associated with comfort.

David likes chips (as in fries cut UK style/thick, not American chips). He is enlightened and sees the true value of all potato products as well, and honors them as such. Also is the enjoyable kind of person who genuinely & visibly appreciates most all good food. He likes beers too (you and Dwight, buddy) although he’s got better taste in them. His favorite drink is probably coffee though. He likes strong coffee, full body, with just a little bit of cream and sugar so it’s still bitter but has a pleasant edge to it. Not sure why that’s his favorite. He just really likes it.

Laurie likes strawberry milk. Would give that answer if asked for fave food or drink. If prompted further would consider, then suggest that as her drink, and some kind of really nice soup as her favorite—probably pumpkin. Will genuinely enjoy any gift of food someone picked out for her with some thought. Also loves Mac’n Cheese a lot, but would not admit to that to everyone because she’s kind of embarrassed that as many times as she’s had it in the past two years alone, her heart still sees a warm bowl and years for the good shit.

Kate likes fruit. Mangos, raspberries, blueberries, blackberries, peaches, pears, pomegranates. Has the patience to eat a pomegranate too. Would just say “fruit” if asked. Loves to pick it fresh. Favorite drink is probably a smoothie, but she would insist that counts. What flavor would vary, but she leans towards blueberry or raspberry on default because she likes the colors.

Tapp likes Chinese food. Mostly this is because Chinese takeout was the nicest thing he could ever afford on the reg as a treat. However, he gets to eat real chow mein and mapo tofu (former made by Ace, the latter by Min—spicy mapo tofu being one of the 3 dishes she knows), and decides those are now his favorite food. Would not ask people to make that because it would be being a hassle, and he would think it wouldn’t matter and would be stupid & not worthwhile to request a dish when visiting a friend, but gets excited internally when they make that & gives sincere and generous compliments. Tried and failed super badly to learn how to make both, but Rachel Thomas (who didn’t know at all how to either but is great at teaching herself shit) helped him figure it out and now he makes them as often as he can without feeling like it will get old/annoy the people living with him. Favorite drink is whiskey but that’s for depression reasons. For genuine enjoyment, he likes probably just juice. Orange or pomegranate.

Adam shares Min’s enjoyment of spicy foods, but is really into trying new things and genuinely doesn’t have a favorite. If he had to pick, he’d probably say Bulla cake, because it is his favorite desert/treat. He really enjoys them & they are nostalgic to him. Good memories of his childhood. His uncle wasn’t always great at knowing what to say, but used to pack him one to take to school any time he knew Adam was stressed or intimidated by an exam or due project. Even if it went bad, he had a comfort reward for making it through. Always buys them when he’s somewhere he can. Favorite drink is tea. He likes a wide variety, but masala, jasmine, and ginger are some constant favorites. Would actually know, care about, and adhere to proper boiling/steeping times per tea type.

Jeff likes baked goods. He really enjoys the baking process itself a whole lot, especially if he has people he can cook for/share with. Definitely has created several original & very good bread recipes. Prefers bready goods to sweet ones. About the sweetest fave he has is basic scones (just bread/no nuts or fruit or filling. Slightly sweet bread with a little sugar on top, meant to be paired with jams etc when eaten). Likes those a lot. Favorite drink shifts from subtype to subtype, but is always one of his homemade craft beers. Also enjoys Dr. Pepper (ah I knew I was forgetting—both he & Joey also have some stated canon favorites. So does Susie).

Jane’s favorites are both things her dad makes. He has a really good ceviche recipe and a complicated secret recipe bean dip, and Jane likes snacking on those with a bowl of chips while chatting on the porch. Slow meal extends both fun of chat and fun of conversation. And her dad has a really good sense of spice use. She can make both well too, but is convinced they taste completely different when she does & distressed by this. Her dad insists they taste the same, but also always sympathetically packs her some time take home anyway. Her favorite drink is probably either coffee or wine, out of familiarity and comfort. She’s not very particular though. As a treat she enjoys moccacinos with a ton of whipped cream a whole lot though.

This was already super long so I’m gonna stop here, but I wood cry if I didn’t include at least Philip in what is now clearly just a survivor lineup. So honorary addition:

Philip likes anything really cold and refreshing. Prefers things with a little bite, so he would pick a cola or alcohol over a fruity drink. Not a big preference past that. Always touched and surprised any time a friend goes into a gas station pitstop and comes back with /any/ ice cold beverage for him, no matter how many times it happens. The gesture to him is very much genuine kindness instead of a friendly nothing. For food, he likes anything with enough substance to actually make him not hungry. So meat dishes are a big plus, as is nice bread. He doesn’t have a favorite meal-meal, probably, but there is a kind of cookie made entirely of egg whites and sugar, that is beaten and fluffy and sweet like a cloud and really delicious somehow despite having almost no substance. Philip had no knowledge of these, but Claudette made him some one morning she was feeling happy not too long after they both first went home to Montreal, and the meringue chocolate chip cookie variant she made was one of the best things he had ever eaten, and probably is his favorite food. They’re like little bites of the concept of sweetness without it being an overdose, and have a very unique and pleasing texture. With the chocolate added, it’s just right. 👌 And then also, of course, it was a gift welcoming to his new home, from the person who more or less is his new home. : )

#ask #anonymous #long post #im so sorry i forgot about the updates & made this on mobile so i physically cant add a read more TuT #dead by daylight #in living memory (fic)#in living memory #hope ya enjoyed! happy to do other buddy crew (Susie-Joey-Sally-Nancy-Benedict-Michael-etc) just thought the post might become fatal if it #got any longer haha #i have another ask i am excited to answer too but its 4am where i am so i am gonna do it tomorrow TuT #ilm spoilers

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thebigpapilio · 5 years ago

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The Koopa, The Dad, & The Better

This writing is inspired from/based on “https://duckapus.tumblr.com/post/184704406530/i-want-bowser-to-punch-gabriel-agreste-in-the-face by @duckapus“. It’s also a not-exactly-sequel to my post “https://thebigpapilio.tumblr.com/post/175002411360/mario-fans-heres-a-thought”.

Bowser had been monstrous, forceful, and many other things he would spend his life atoning for, but he was by no means a bad father. The Koopalings - quite young at the time - were entrusted to him by their blood father should they fall in battle. The previous Boom Boom had been loyal and a great ally of the Koopa royal lineage, so when the sad day came that he fell - thankfully long before Mario, or things would be a lot worse between the plumber and his adopted kids - Bowser was more than willing to take the mantle. Bowser took as good care of them as he could, and Kamek helped him through the whole family’s issues. Even when Junior was born, Kamek was there for all of them.

Bowser had been angry his father magically forced Kamek to hide the truth of the racism that started the generational war between the Koopa & Mushroom Kingdoms with a silencing spell, he knew it was not Kamek’s fault and forgave him. After learning the truth, Bowser swore to fix his father’s mistakes, and it was not much later that a peace treaty resumed, complete with Peach’s also-restricted memories being restored.

It also helped him move on from the then-princess, which was good, because when he had arrived to offer peace, he’d just missed Mario proposing.

After fixing up everything, Peach saw fit for Bowser to be invited to the wedding, though Mario had still been suspicious of him.

Nevertheless, despite Bowser’s newly-attained and seemingly-infinite patience, there had been - and there still would be - plenty of times in Bowser’s life when he became especially angry.

When he was taken away from his childhood best friend Peach? Mostly confused, but still angry.

When he first lost to Mario, followed by an uncounted amount of repeated results? He’d been furious, and with each time he returned from a fight in great pain, he found less and less things more aggravating than so much as the thought of that provocative plumber.

When memories of his father and why he “hated” the Mushroom Kingdom returned to him? Bowser thought he couldn’t be angrier.

But after he stepped into that portal disguised as a human, Bowser found himself to be wrong.

It had started when he’d saved the kid from collateral damage caused by one of those… what was it, akumas? To his horror, he learned this was a regular occurrence in the city from the boy (Adrien, Bowser, his name is Adrien) in a tone more surprised that he didn’t know. That was fair, but the tone should have been a red flag that something was wrong. Later, he watched the boy’s ride show up at his school while walking by, and his heart broke watching how fast Adrien’s face fell.

It got worse when he started sending in spies. They returned with information of his dad and secretary being incredibly inconsiderate of Adrien and what he wanted, telling him what he was going to do as if he had no choice, and even when he did them, he was treated like a rebellious teen. Apparently, it was so bad the kid had fought to go to the public school. Junior didn’t mind being tutored, but Bowser still knew that even if his kids hadn’t wanted to do evil like they had done, the Koopa King would still be supportive of him and his siblings.

Bowser had been about to lose his temper for the first time in what may have been a record-breaking drought when a Paratroopa returned with urgent news. When Bowser learned about the correlation behind the two pitiful excuses for “adults” and the reason behind the villains, he knew something had to be done.

He couldn’t do it alone, however - he had to do things more quietly than an invasion could, and while he was incredibly strong, he would be outnumbered, and he was especially bad against smaller & faster opponents, if Mario and Luigi (he’d finally remembered to not address the younger hero as Green 'Stache) were anything to go by. Plus, he was mad right n-

The Mario Brothers.

Bowser couldn’t think of anyone better to help him then the newly-dubbed Mushroom King and his brother. Luigi and Bowser were on decent terms, but that didn’t seem to be enough for his bro - even when Bowser helped find a way back to the brothers’ home world, Mario still seemed to not trust Bowser, however quiet or loud he was about it. The Koopa King wondered if this plan he was forming would get Mario to fully trust him.

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Mario and Luigi had been suspicious at first at a request for help - as much as Bowser had changed, the Koopa King seldom asked for help, certainly not in the desperate fashion that he had. But Luigi convinced at least get Mario to hear the Koopa King out, and looking back, Mario thought it was a good idea - when Bowser explained the situation, the Mario Brothers would have agreed instantly had Bowser not wanted to explain how bad it was.

Mario had mostly been on guard due to their wedding; he wasn’t exactly of noble stock, and if he were to let his Queen be taken by someone they had known was not always trustworthy, he didn’t know what anyone - least of all him - would think of the new King. But Peach seemed to trust the former enemy after missing memories returned, and Bowser had looked like a husk of himself on that day, so Mario had been too shocked by this new information to really do much at the time.

With the peace between the two Kingdoms, Mario had seldom needed to do any hero work with the Koopa army practically handling all defensive matters for him, so if nothing else, this was an excuse to get some exercise and do good for someone.

Besides, this was a human from a parallel world to he and his brother’s, right? The Mushroom World had ultimately changed their lives for the better, and if this Adrien kid needed it, they would do the same for him.

After conferring with Peach and making a plan, the three fighters were ready to go. Going through the portal made things a bit awkward given the wait and Bowser’s human disguise, but Mario finally started to feel that Bowser was becoming better.

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Just our luck that there’s an akuma attack going on, Bowser mused.

Looking further at the situation, there appeared were multiple akumas and two new creatures that Bowser assumed to be sentimonsters - Hawkmoth had decided to try Heroes’ Day again, it appeared, but this time he was nowhere to be found, a young, brown-haired girl in the villain’s costume.

In a hidden spot near the battlefield, Bowser murmured to Mario and Luigi to go and help the heroes, saying he needed to save Adrien first. They all wore communicators - Bowser’s on an arm bracer, and the Mario Brothers under their hats. Nodding, they went off to go help, a well-placed fireball knocking Befana off her motorcycle and ultimately ending up purified in Luigi’s arms. Chat Noir - the kid was there, which made Bowser’s job a lot easier - and his friends were caught off guard, but when the brothers started to keep pace, they relaxed and returned to fighting the akumas once more.

Bowser would have loved to join them, but he had bigger fish to fry. Transforming back into his true form, he took off for Gabriel’s mansion.

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Hawkmoth and Mayura were a bit worried when new heroes stepped in. It was already a taller order than last time due to the reactivated Monkey, Snake, & Horse joining the original five, but they had saved up enough energy to be at least on par with that. When the dynamic duo showed up, however, the villains started to become quite uncomfortable.

On the battlefield, Luigi’s hammer smashed the last akumatized item - Volpina’s necklace. This Lila girl had turned out to be willingly akumatized and working with the villains, and she was promptly taken to the police by an infuriated Carapace and Rena Rouge while the other heroes celebrated.

The brothers’ communicators came on then, their draconid ally’s voice arriving right on time.

“You guys cleaned up yet?”

“Perfect timing, big guy!” Mario said, the two brothers watching as Carapace and Rena Rouge returned.

“Good. Now, tell them to follow you to the big bads’ place, got it?”

With all the up-close fights Bowser and the brothers had, they still forgot sometimes that in the end, he was a born leader and knew how to give commands without being angry. Walking over to the heroes, they introduced themselves as “Fireball” and “Green Thunder,” and told the heroes not only that that they’d been doing detective work about Hawkmoth’s identity but that they’d tracked him down, with someone holding personal quarrel with the villain already confronting him.

Ladybug would have spoken first, but she was interrupted by the sound of glass shattering from a while away.

“That’s our cue, then…” Green Thunder smiled. Gesturing in the direction of the sound, he continued, “...care to follow us there?”

You would have thought their heads would fly off their necks with how fast they nodded.

Meanwhile, Hawkmoth and Mayura caught their breaths after dodging the shards of glass sent their way. When they looked up, their breaths were caught once more as they took in the appearance of the cross-looking creature whose glare that screamed you are in for the beatdown of your life. Fortunately for Mayura, she could see that the glare was mostly trained on her boss. Unfortunately for her, it was only mostly.

“Hawkmoth and Nathalie Sancoeur,” he uttered, and the two in question froze up in not only shock at this creature’s ability to speak so clearly and the fact he appeared to know Mayura’s identity but confusion, because this beast referred to Gabriel as Hawkmoth, even though at this point there was no conceivable reason this monster did not know that Gabriel was Hawkmoth.

“I have some words for you.”

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“You may never have heard of me, given the differences of our origins, so let me tell you just who you’re messing with.”

Slowly stomping towards them, he proceeded to do just so. “I am King Bowser Koopa, ruler of Dark Land and former villain. I’m the ex-scourge of the Mushroom Kingdom and the first of the Seven Star Children. I was known as the Final Boss, the Destroyer of the Dark Star, and old enemies-turned-friends once called me la tartaruga mortale - the death turtle."

To himself, Bowser thanked Luigi and Mario for teaching him Italian, because someone needed to know it other than those two if the brothers went evil.

"I did a lot of evil things in my career as a villain - I’ve conquered galaxies simply because they stood in my way.”

“I could raze you and this whole mansion to the ground right now if I wanted,” he roared, clearly putting fear into the two villains, “but I won’t. You wanna know why?”

At their somewhat-frantic nods, any amusement on his face said goodbye.

“Because there’s a kid in this place.”

At their slight confusion, he scowled. At this point he stood over the floored duo.

“The title I hold more dearly to me than any of the ones I just named is Dad. I have eight wonderful children, and every day of my life I do my best to make sure they want for nothing, least of all my attention. ”

At that point he snatched Mayura’s brooch faster than either of them could react, leaving a stunned Nathalie Sancoeur in her place. Looking back for a second, he noticed the other heroes had arrived - Red & Green with them. Grinning, he returned to Hawkmoth’s fearful gaze.

“Now I’m not perfect, true, but at least I try. I support my kids, I take time to understand them and their interests, I teach them as best as I can, and even if they hadn’t wanted to follow in my villainous footsteps during that time, I like to think I would have respected that and continued to love them nonetheless.”

His glare hardened even further.

“Too tall an order for you, huh? If you can pretend to be the fashion mogul known as Gabriel Agreste, I think you could easily take time to be a parent to your kid.”

“Why do you keep saying he’s not Hawkmoth?” Chat Noir spoke up from Roi Singe & Ladybug’s grips.

“For what I know, Gabriel Agreste was a kind, caring, and patient guy who liked to do good for others simply for the sake of it. This guy doesn’t fit the description, so he can’t be Hawkmoth, right?”

It was clear that Bowser knew Gabriel was Hawkmoth, but the message he was conveying was clearer - Gabriel had changed, and not for the better.

“You’re using your grief as an excuse to hold your son at arms’ length, but you only take control of him when it’s convenient. If I asked you about his favorite color, or his friends’, or what he wants to do with his life if he could choose, or even what he thinks of the “designer clothes” you stick him in, how much could you really tell me?”

At this, Hawkmoth was silent. Bowser let out an angry snort, then finished his tirade.

“I’m not gonna go too far on your failing attempts at villainy. You’re a faulty & foolish failure as a villain and a parent, and as I said earlier, if it wasn’t for the kid, you’d be burned to a crisp and stomped into a paste - not to mention scum like you aren’t worth the effort.”

He picked up the main villain, dropped him on his two feet, and with a growl of “Get bent.” he walloped him into the wall with a single punch.

Hawkmoth would wake up after about a week and a half in the hospital, having changed from purple to white. A change to orange would follow soon after.

But for now, Bowser would turn around to face the other heroes. He would help get the detransformed shell of Gabriel to the police and hospital, and after taking the Black Cat wielder aside, he gave him a small remote-like item he’d packed that let him and anyone he wanted - other than Hawkmoth and Nathalie - come to the Koopa Kingdom if he wanted or needed to.

Bowser sometimes felt the repercussions of his past villainy too strongly. But whenever he remembered that day - especially punching Hawkmoth in the face - he felt a lot better about himself.

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snowbatsims · 6 years ago

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post 19

And, the washing machine broke!

And instead of fixing it himself this time, Einarr was getting stupidly thirsty and decided to invite a repairman over here instead. The deal was easy; in exchange for a sum of money with an extra tip, he ordered a simple repair, as well as a bit of blood. Bloodthirst is still a thing, after all. They're vampires.

REPAIRMAN: Whooaa, sweet. I always wanted this. EINARR: You may keep that if I get a little bit of your blood. You know, as we arranged. REPAIRMAN: Haha, no way. It's mine now. And then he ran out, as fast as his little mortal human feet would carry him. Obviously that wasn't enough. A vampire always catches up.

EINARR: SIGHS. I told you. I hate doing this. I just need a little bit of your blood! It was quite literally a part of the deal, remember? Why couldn't you just trust me. Meanwhile....

MORTEN: Oh my god. Why.

MORT: Now what!! MORT: Turning it on and off again doesn't even work??? MORT: Didn't we just have a repairman here too? Lord. MORT: Where did that guy go?

MORT: ... MORT: Oh man. I just remembered the strange fantasy tree I saw the other day. MORT: Maybe I can actually go there now.

It's autumn, and yet its leaves are still firmly in place, green as ever. It's not even a pine tree, which WOULD be evergreen.

Nope, this one has leaves, is covered in strange mushrooms, and it.. glows.

Should've mentioned that. It very much is a tree that glows, which does require some further investigation.

MORTEN: This seems rather.. fairy-like. I wonder if it could... Giggles from the tree could be heard. Suddenly, an entrance-shaped hole in the tree opened. MORTEN: Oh?

Man, this place is beautiful.

MORT: Here, froggy froggy...

MORT: Wow. This fish looks like a potato. I love them.

Being a vampire in the digital age sure is nice!

MORT: Gosh, with all the frogs and fish around here, and no harmful sun, I could probably stay here forever! MORT: ...Though I guess it would get a little lonely... Strangely, he hears someone sit down nearby.

He does a double-take. Is that really... MORT: Mom??? What are you doing here? MOM: ...Hello. MORT: Hello? MOM: ... :)

Honestly, this place is beginning to give him the creeps. MORT: Are you sure you're not an illusion? MORT: ...Please talk to me. MOM: Yes. MORT: That's it? Uh... guess I'll be more specific. MORT: How did you.. get here? The constant giggling of the surroundings is starting to get a little more ominous now, despite somehow sounding exactly the same as ever.

MOM: The Sylvan Tree sent me here. MORT: That's- that's what it's called? Huh. How would you know its name? MOM: *giggles* She sounded exactly like the fairies... MORT: Are you.. are you sure you're not just an illusion conjured up by fairies? MOM: This place is beautiful. I think you would love it here. You should stay. MORT: Uh... Her eyes go pitch black. MOM?: 𝓦𝓮 𝓬𝓪𝓷 𝓶𝓪𝓴𝓮 𝓪𝓵𝓵 𝔂𝓸𝓾𝓻 𝓭𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓶𝓼 𝓬𝓸𝓶𝓮 𝓽𝓻𝓾𝓮. 𝓟𝓵𝓮𝓪𝓼𝓮, 𝓼𝓽𝓪𝔂 𝔀𝓲𝓽𝓱 𝓾𝓼. MORT:

...

MORT: WOW, I SURE AM HAPPY TO BE BACK IN THE REAL WORLD!!!

MORT: So, you said we're moving, huh. EINARR: That is the plan, yes. MORT: It's actually happening? It has been a few years since the idea was proposed... EINARR: Indeed it is. We were just low on funds at the time, but Rune has been earning a lot of money in royalties for his music lately. EINARR: Anyway, we're finally going to be near the coast! I've found a very nice, large house to accommodate all five of us. MORT: Ooh. So you're doing portraits to hang up in our new home, then? EINARR: Yes. MORT: I haven't seen you paint much before! When did you-- EINARR: Morten. Child. I'm a thousand years old. You may take a guess. MORT: Oh, right.

Floral arrangements!

And Kvikindi went visiting a certain classmate. The one who's the grandchild of one of Rune's cousins. That classmate.

LUKAS: So you're uh, half vampire or something? I mean, I definitely see your alien part. It's really cool! KVIK: Yep!! And all my dads are like, wow watch out, you're gonna be struggling with this vampire shit too sometime. Bluh, bluh.

LUKAS: Hey, that is a bad word. Try being more quiet. KVIK: Really? Shit? Bat says it all the time. LUKAS: Well, my parents would give me house arrest if they even THOUGHT I said that!!! KVIK: Oh, huh. How lame.

RAKEL: Where is our visitor? EMMA: Oh, she's been playing with Lukas. RAKEL: I wanna play too...

And so they did.

RAKEL: Do you spot anything cool yet? KVIK: I see an orange floating crystal above me. RAKEL: W...what? KVIK: Oh, that cloud looks like a spider. RAKEL: Wow, yeah. KVIK: BAT CLOUD!! RAKEL: Where? KVIK: Right.. there ah dangit it's gone already. RAKEL: Aw, no!!!

Anyway, they finally moved.

And this is the point where I updated Mort's hair again. It's available for download on this very blog.

They made not just one, but two snowmen that night. How productive. Must be easy when you literally can't get cold.

EINARR: Ugh, these awful windows.

EINARR: We really need curtains.

We also really need the ability to change our ceilings. Seriously.

On a random evening neighborhood exploration... LIV: Wow, hey, did you just fly here as a bat??? Dude, are you vampire? MORT: Well, yes-- LIV: THAT IS SO COOL. I KNEW IT. I KNEW THEY WERE REAL!!! MORT: I guess-- LIV: Bite me. MORT: what

LIV: You heard me, buddy. *slaps neck*, Come get your juice. MORT: You're.... kinda weirding me out, person.

LIV: I'm sorry? MORT: M.. maybe later. I'm not actually thirsty right now. Just exploring the neighborhood, really. LIV: You can have my phone number if you want? MORT: Y-yeah, sure. LIV: Whenever you need any blood, I'll be right there for you, buddy.

And then it was Winterfest, once again.

Kvik got into a childhood furry phase....

FATHER WINTER: Ho, ho, ho.. Gosh, nobody's around.

BAT: Hey. FATHER WINTER: Have you been naughty this year? BAT: ...not at all. FATHER WINTER: Hm. My lists very much say otherwi---

BAT: Thank you very much for the gift!!

RUNE: Oh, dear.. Is that really Father Winter? RUNE: Bat, I swear to god.

MORT: Oh.. oh, dear.

MORT: I'm so sorry about that. Bat is an absolute gremlin sometimes.

MORT: I mean, seriously, the audacity of that child!!! FATHER WINTER: O-oh, it's fine, dear-

MORT: HOW COULD HE!!! WHAT IF HE KILLED YOU! IT WOULD MEAN NO MORE WINTERFEST FOR ANYONE!!! FATHER WINTER: N-no, it's fine, really. MORT: HOW. FATHER WINTER: I'm not the only Father Winter, dear. We're merely the assistants of Santa Claus, MORT: BUT STILL!! I DON'T WANT TO SEE YOU DEAD...

MORT: I don't wanna.. see anyone dead. FATHER WINTER: I appreciate your concern, dear. Do you want a present?

MORT: Do I???

MORT: Gosh, I hope it's not dog droppings like last year. FATHER WINTER: Why, who could ever give you that? MORT: Last year's Father Winter. FATHER WINTER: Ah, I believe it must have been a mistake. You're much too good. MORT: Yeah, it was apparently meant for Bat. FATHER WINTER: I see. That's the kid who just drank from me, right? MORT: Yep. FATHER WINTER: Figures. Well, he's not getting anything from me this year. MORT: Pretty sure he already did.

EINARR: Why, hello there. FATHER WINTER: ...are all of you vampires? EINARR: Yeah, sorry about that.

EINARR: We're definitely going to stick around for a while, hah! MORTEN: Jeez, don't remind me...

EINARR: Anyway, how are you? Has this Winterfest been treating you well at all? FATHER WINTER: Well, first of all, MORT: Bat drank from him.

EINARR: *pretends to act shocked* MORTEN: Nobody's buying it, old man. FATHER WINTER: ...did the lights just turn off?

EINARR: Hey, what's it like to have day vision? FATHER WINTER: ..you're not noticing it? MORT: Only a teeny tiny change, honestly. EINARR: I guess they shut off our power. We're a little low on funds since we recently moved. FATHER WINTER: Anyway, uh, I figure Mr. Auðvinsson would like a present as well this year. EINARR: Of course.

EINARR: It's.. tickets. FATHER WINTER: Congratulations, your entire household has won a room at a hotel in Strangerville. I advise you to use these tickets within this winter. EINARR: Strangerville, huh. Peculiar name. FATHER WINTER: Yes, quite. FATHER WINTER: I believe it is time for me to leave now.

MORT: Aw man, Rune missed him...

Well, speaking of Rune, it seems he brought in all the guests now.

Hug train.

MORT: It's actually the real you... MOM: Gosh, what do you even mean? MORT: You wouldn't believe what I saw the other day. MOM: Son, you're a vampire. I'd believe anything at this point. MORT: It's such a long story though,,,, Bottom line is, the fairies created a clone of you and--- MOM: Oh, my dear child.... And so they all had a nice winterfest. Even if it’s dark.

I might enjoy screencapping too much.

#vampire thread mirror #wow what a way to start (i'm being sarcastic)#but yes!!#new followers: hello and welcome to my vampire gameplay posts #feel free to read the tag in chronological order or something w/e #i do these in between cc posts if that's okay #mags' bat sims

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readbythestarlight · 6 years ago

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c2e48

I’m a day late and I’ve seen just enough to know that something happens and I am both ready and terrified

Sam your ads are so dumb I love you

sAM

I spy a Jareth

Nott the Bright Pink Goblin

Captain Orli ayyyyyyye!

I can’t remember why Cad wants a special blacksmith

Oh yeah the sword

Laura’s stare at Matt after "my mom reads lots of books"

SHOPPING FINALLY

800 miles to get a sword fixed DO IT

"Bo-Beau"

Beau’s bo has a bow

Poor Jester had no friends and it makes me sad

The owner has a cat this person is gonna be the Gilmore to Caleb’s Vax I’m calling it

"Slam poetry right now!"

Jester buying cook books - I wonder if the mushroom one is for Cad?

J: "I don’t have a ‘you can reply to this message’ thing."

Cad: "I said it all anyway."

Nott enjoying the feel of being back on the ground

NOTT omg making the kid cry by accident

Professor Thaddeus??

Aw darn

Jester’s little "hey it’s me!" dance

WE’RE BACK MOM

"Illegal people doing illegal things to illegal people" pretty much describes everything the M9 have done for the past dozen episodes

Mom really wants the dog gone xD

Caleb really trying to make sure Jester has time with her mom and it’s so sweet

Wealthy hermit mage in a tower that defies physical space?

Matt’s like "Liam why with the books please"

Hirling, Tusk Love, and Nein Shades of Blue. What a strangely named trilogy.

J: "The paint is always with me."

"I promise you if we go check it out tonight we’re going in tonight." Nott is not wrong

"You are in charge, you are the god cat, don’t let him push you around."

"I’m not gonna break any rules or anything" Cad is the only good boy in this group

LOL just emptying lanterns for oil

Sheila Bumsnapper???

J: "I don’t think she likes us, Caduceus."

Cad: "That’s nonsense we’re very likable."

Oh Bobsnobber.

YOU CANNOT GO INTO THE TOWER RIGHT NOW NOTT WHERE DID YOUR COMMON SENSE GO

Don’t waste the tree on the tower don’t do it

Fjord just bought himself a fish for no reason xD

Caleb’s like listen I want to go into the tower too but let’s not be rash idiots for once please

"Or he could turn us over to people who we do not want to be turned over to." Ohhh.

Let Cad go in he’s the one with the most questions. The most important valid actual questions

Oh plus one

Cad + Caleb please

Okay sure Beau + Cad the two polar opposites that’s good too.

"I will brew some tea"

Beau stop talking don’t tell him so much that’s a bad idea

Why are we saying so much this is such a bad decision

Happy Fun Time Ball

Sure tell him about the Dodecahedron that’s fine that’s not gonna be a horrible idea

Honestly they didn’t think this through at all and it’s just an awkward mess lol

"I need to stress eat" mood Liam

"I have a few slots open in my loyalty bank, so if you’re willing to pay the price of rental." Beau

I can’t believe they convinced him

Caleb’s real nervous

Matt really doesn’t want them to keep the Happy Fun Tim Ball because he doesn’t want to have to mess with it again xD

TELEPORTATION CIRCLE AW YISS

Time to learn teleportation Caleb

Honestly I’m not sure how I feel about this guy, but I want to trust him

"At a certain level of arcane ability morality becomes ambiguous" mmm don’t like that

I don’t know how I feel about him guys

DONT show him the dodecahedron yet please. Let’s make sure he’s really trustworthy.

I feel like even as an ally, even if he is trustworthy, he could mean trouble for Caleb. Either because he can offer too much knowledge, or because he could in some way be associated with Trent, or just... something.

I wanna trust Yussah I really do. But I almost feel like I trust The Gentleman more which?? I should not.

I got scared and then I remembered the teleportation circle

AW YISS THEY GONNA GET TELEPORTATION

"Where did you train?" noPE DONT LIKE THAT QUESTION

don’t like don’t like don’t like

"I sometimes follow my friends where I shouldn’t"

"That might someday get you killed. Or someday get you what you seek."

I can’t decide how I feel about this conversation but I’m not entirely comfortable

Caleb is definitely drawing lines between Yussah and Trent right now and he’s afraid that they’re going to end up being used or hurt by someone more powerful then all of them. Caleb KNOWS how powerful mages use and manipulate people and he’s definitely afraid of that happening.

Caleb really knows that Jester needs time with her mom, he saw how she was struggling and he want to make sure she has just a little time

Oh Beau honey he didn’t mean that like as in YOU are a liar, he’s just worried about you all throwing in with someone as potentially dangerous as Yussah.

Do you Marion has agoraphobia? Is that why she’s always so anxious about leaving the Chateau? Or is she not allowed to leave? Is something keeping her there? I know Matt’s described her as being that way more than once and I want to know why.

BYE MOM WE MISS YOU ALREADY

Caleb sharing his trashy smut novels with Jester is my fave

CAD TOLD FJORD ABOUT VANDREN

I’m having feelings

"I have some faith in you" LOTS OF FEELINGS

I’m trying to remember, does Caleb have some kind of item that helps him hide from Trent?

"I can’t keep poking my head up like a mole in the ground, because if I do someone is going to cave my skull in. And if you are all with me you will all die too." Oh jeeze. He’s so afraid, for himself, for them.

I love/hate how Caleb went from "I shouldn’t be with you because you’re putting me at risk" to now "I don’t know that I should be with you because you draw attention and if I’m found with you I put YOU in danger"

"I have to be careful, and if we can’t be careful enough I have to go"

No, Beau, he understands you’re WILLING to kick ass for him but he knows it won’t matter because Trent will fuck you all up

He’s saying please don’t go talking to sketchy powerful wizards

Beau it isn’t about the job you did it’s about the fact that Caleb knows how DANGEROUS this is. You’re playing with fire and nobody understands how dangerous that is

Caleb’s message isn’t "I want you to not care about me" it’s "I’m afraid of the fact that I care about you, because thanks to that, if we are caught you will all burn with me". Because they ARE Caleb’s weakness now, and Caleb knows that Trent will see that, see it and use it to finally and utterly destroy him.

And also yeah, Caleb seems afraid that Trent will find him through/because the M9 can’t lay low and not expose themselves to dangerous people, and that’s another reason he would consider leaving, but he’s afraid of that MOSTLY because of what will happen not just to him but to all of them.

I’m just having a lot of feelings.

HI BRYCE

Man my favorite thing is these idiots talking about illegal things in front of poor Bryce and they just always have to be like "noooo because that would be illegal" and they walk away

BYE BRYCE

Awww Jester giving Cad the cook books!

“It never even occurred to me that you could get a book about cooking that’s so great”

Nott backstory time!!?

Sweetheart please don’t start drinking

Oh god Caleb recognizes both that can’t be great

Oh no

Oh Matt where’s Nott’s friend

Is he dead is he taken?

HIS BOY LUKE?

guys guys guysssss

MATT WHERE IS HE

Caleb making himself look filthy again

Oh no a basement

Nott’s voice cracking I’m crying

Oh no I don’t like this

Nott just straight up breaking arcane locks with her badass lockpicking

Okay what’s here

“Gravity, entropy, and time.” Oh no.

Oh goddddd

TRENT

OH GOD

oh god oh god oh god

“What?! It’s your people!”

“Well! Well fuck him!” Oh. Oh no.

Oh no, not Nott and Caleb.

IM REALLY UPSET RIGHT NOW

Oh god Caduceus thank you

Guys I’m in tears

She’s blaming him and he’s blaming himself and I’m fucking CRYING

And I know Nott doesn’t mean it against Caleb I know she’s hurt and angry and scared but oh my god I’m just wrecked

I’m gonna need to find some comfort fic immediately because I can’t have this hanging over me for a week.

I KNEW IT

I KNEW HE WAS NOTT’S SON!!!!

IM SCREAMING

Luke doesn’t even know she’s a goblin I’m fucking sobbing

Oh. Oh wait.

Is Nott actually a goblin? Is she somehow turned into one and she’s actually a halfling? Do goblins live long enough for her to have a 5 year old son?

Unless he’s not her son by birth??

HI SAM THIS IS REALLY RUDE AND MAKING ME CRY PLEASE STOP

Beth??

It’s time to go leave now nO MATT

“If you guys had come here instead of Nicodranus you would have been here when all this went down” THATS A RUDE THING TO SAY MATT

#Critical Role #critical role spoilers #emi watches critical role

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fallen--lilith · 4 years ago

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Fate Chapter 4

Trigger Warning/Needles and mention of drowning I just want to apologize that Vegeta isn't in this much so far. It's not like this will only be a 13 chapter story... I think. It might be off since I'm the oldest in the family and never had tortuous older brothers ( I feel like the brother being the youngest is whole other type of assholes??) Not to mention we don't know who Kakarot really is? So just as super preface he's like an asshole but still really goofy. Think America from Hetalia. ( only way to describe it) Also fuck staying with lyrics to a song for chapter lyrics.

Word Count: 1527

Chapter 4: Take Care of Yourself (TW/Needles)

"100 credits? Last time it was only 40!" Peppa yelled as she slammed her fists on the medical stall's counter. "I should--"

"Yeah well, the ingredients for the medicine are getting hard to come by and I can't survive on the few weaklings that require this junk. So you can pay up or go die in an alleyway way. I don't care." The stall owner said as he held out the payment slot.

"This is bullshit." She said, but she desperately needed the shots. She could feel herself already withering away from the inside out. The female saiyan migraine was growing worse and arguing over price wasn't really helping anyone. It wouldn't have been too bad if ground control could have done their job and figured out where they could have landed beforehand. This was a predetermined stop after all.

She reluctantly placed the cracked scanner lense in the slot and paid for the medicine. The owner smiled and handed her the kit. "Have a nice day" he said when she snatched it out of his hands and shoved it in her tote bag.

She then met up with her sister who was just now finishing buying some fancy meat for dinner as per tradition.

"Hey, I thought you were going to wait, so I could pay." Peppa huffed as she took Sutal's tote bag also, so Sutal could carry the meat.

"Oh well, your pay was cut and you were taking too long. " the older sister replied.

"Oh well, the damn stall over charged me for the kit and wouldn't back down." Peppa groaned. The two started walking. "Most outposts charge at most 50 credits. It's probably some dumb tax The Elite decided on to cut out the weaklings or some shit."

"Does Prince Gag-eta know how much it costs to even keep you alive? Maybe you should be mates with him just to get fre--OW!" Sutal rubbed her arm where Peppa had punched her as best as she could.

Peppa's face was burning red with embarrassment. She shifted the two tote bags more comfortably. "I don't need help from that idiot. Once I figure out how to surpass Raditz without him crying I'll be fine. Besides, just because we're friends doesn't mean we'll end up as mates." Nothing in her voice sounded convincing.

"Yeah, and that's why you've started putting your hair up in a ponytail huh sissy? Because your friend looks at every woman that does this new trend? " Sutal smiled wider. Peppa couldn't answer because no matter what, it would have been taken the wrong way.

"I swear the dispensary gets farther than everytime we come to visit." Peppa changed the topic. There was a four way path and Peppa had to stop and think which way the dispensary was. Sutal then took the lead and went right.

"How can you forget which way every time? We've walked this way a thousand times as kids." Sutal commented, though she lightly laughed and remembered what the scientists suggested to jog her sister's memory. "Remember racing with Raditz and Kakarot to see father first when he landed? The winner got to ride his shoulders."

Peppa clenched her fist tightly around a tote strap. It was hard for her to pull that memory but it sounded very...similar. But she was remembering…. That's good. "And the losers clung to his arms or leg right? The ol' man carried us like it was nothing all the way. What a sight it must have been..."

They continue to reminisce, well more so Sutal than Peppa, til they arrived at an meat dispensary for the Saiyan army. "Mother, We're home!" They said at the same time as they bowed in sync. If there was one thing everyone loved was seeing the Saiyan twins in sync so well.

"Girls!" Gine turned and took off her gloves and gave them a big hug. "I've been getting a little worried since it was getting late...Peppa! What happened to your face? Who do I-"

Peppa blushed. "Don't worry. I already took care of them and the swelling had already gone down. Kakarot is supposed to bring me something to help with it. "

"We also got dinner for tonight since most of us are going to be home." Sutal added. "We're going to head home afterwards to get this bad boy to cook."

"Both of you are too nice!" Gine smiled with stars in her eyes.

“My, my, the both of you have grown quite big and strong, just like your father. Time flies so fast doesn't it, Gine? " An older Saiyan woman joined them. She was heavier than the mother, but twice as sweet. Gine let go of her daughters and they bowed to the woman.

Gine rubbed their heads. " I know right? I don't know what's scarier. Seeing your kids leave the planet never to be seen again or thinking they'd come back with a potential mate." The older women laugh.

After some more small talk, the daughters made their way their to their childhood home. The best way one could describe Bardock and Gine's house is homely, yet cramped. There wasn't much décor as a typical Saiyan home, but military medals from all the members growing up were proudly displayed.

Sutal began preparing the meat as Peppa got out her medicine kit and laid it out on the kitchen table. 3 different shots every month and the kit only lasts 7 months. What they did exactly was confusing to her. It had something to do with proteins and keeping her solid? All she was certain of was that if she missed a month, she came down with a terrible fever.

She tied the medicinal band around her left arm and used her teeth to tighten it enough to cut off circulation. After tapping the inside of her elbow to find a vein, she injected her first shot. Injection hurt like hell but she didn't make a single peep.

"What was it like… being separated into orange goo? Is it like drowning?" Sutal asked as she prepared the meat. She hated needles just like her younger brother, so starting the cooking was a good distraction, but she also hated the silence.

Peppa took the band off and flexed her muscles to get the first serum pumped into her system. "It's hard to describe because downing…your brain is connected to your body. AND there's that primal fight to survive even if you can't make it…and it's easy for someone to pull you out." She looked at her hand and flexed it in and out of a fist.

"This is like...being a great ape but deeper. You're alone with your thoughts but you're in nothingness. No body, no physical limitations, you come back as if you're born yesterday health wise. You, yourself have to pull your soul out of the sea of life... it all depends on how selfish you want to be. I wonder if it's the same for the prince though when he's in great ape form...I heard being able to control Oozaru takes a lot of trai-" Peppa pondered as she put the band back on and began getting ready for the second shot.

“Heyo! What smells great? It's making me-"Kakarot burst through as he always does. However he wasn't expecting his sisters to be home before him but rather Gine. Peppa also had just so happened to finish administering her second and was holding it in the air. It took the coronal one look of the needle for the color his face to to drain... Before he could utter another word the tall Saiyan slumped to the ground, passed out.

Peppa doesn't quite remember, but Sutal once told her as a kid that while she was sleeping Kakarot had somehow made little rings on Peppa's skin with an alien fish. When Peppa woke up, Kakarot told her how she was going to grow mushrooms in those spots. She nearly scrubbed her skin off til Gine stopped her.

Peppa dragged him to the living area and little by little got him on the couch while Sutal cut off a few pieces of meat to add to an epsom salt mixture. Both were crackling like witches during their tasks. However, Peppa cut short and got real quiet. Sutal was so caught up she didn't realize she was the only one laughing now coming out of the kitchen with the flask.

"I wish I had a recording of that. I've never seen him fall so fast." Sutal said as she entered the living room. She stopped in her tracks when she saw who had also just come home.

There stood their father, Bardock in the living room with a disapproving look on his face. "What are you two up to now?"

#Fate: a dbz fic #Vegeta x Oc #Dragonball fanfiction #dbz fanfic #tw//needle mention #trigger warning needles

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quinn-in-amsterdam · 7 years ago

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Alone with You || Fabrale

Tagging: Quinn Fabray & Derek Hale When: May 24, 2018 Where:: Derek’s house Notes: Quinn and Derek talk about their pasts. TW: Discussion about murder, cheating, and death.

Derek

Telling Quinn had been a huge weight off of Derek's shoulders. But it also meant that one of the only reasons for him to be apart from her, time he spent talking to Laura or shifted, was completely gone. And if he hadn't had his head firmly jammed up her ass before, he certainly did now. Derek knew that she was inside when he was still halfway down the walk, head raising, and he jogged the rest of the way inside, pinpointing her and shucking his sweat-stained shirt. "Made yourself at home?"

Quinn

In the kitchen Quinn placed a toasted bagel on a plate and set cream cheese and jelly next to it. When Derek entered she could see the shirt practically peel off his body. “Haven’t has a chance to do that before. I thought it would be a practice run for whenever I decide to move in.” She want over to him and laid a hand on his damp, cook skin and kissed Derek’s heated lips. “Since you have such a love for bagels, I brought you one.”

Derek

When she decided to move in. An eventuality, instead of a possibility. The thought made him settle in, resting a hand against her back when she kissed him so that she couldn't pull away so soon. The other hand dropped his shirt on the floor and made to press against the side of her face. "Have you eaten?" he asked, sounding genuinely concerned. "Only makes sense that I'm able to return the favor."

Quinn

Both hands immediately went to Derek’s chest and she tried to wiggle away from him. “Oh God. You’re sweaty, Derek. And my clothes will reek of your sweat.” There was laughter with this though she didn’t want to stink later. “I had a smoothie before I came over.” She said, declaring defeat and wrapping both arms around him. “You want to cook breakfast for me?”

Derek

"Hey, you're the one who came over to me. Am I supposed to be keeping my arms at my sides, here?" He pressed in against her when she finally gave up, and he pressed a kiss against her forehead. "Why, what are you doing today that you don't want to smell like the inside of a gym sock?" He pulled away enough to look at her. "Absolutely. I'm going to eat that bagel, but you need more than a smoothie. Something with protein."

Quinn

“I wanted to say good morning to my boyfriend. Next time you come in, clammy to the touch, I will wave at you from across the room.” Quinn’s nails dug into his sides, teasing him with them. “I will love to watch you cook while shirtless but if you run out to grab a rabbit to cook I’m out of here.”

Derek

"Well, this way we get to shower together. Really, this all seems like some sort of convoluted plan to get into the shower with me. You know that all you have to do is ask." He jumped back when she tickled against his sides, hypersensitive to it, and the fear emerged in his eyes to have one of his vulnerable spots revealed like that. "How do you feel about eggs and sausage?"

Quinn

“I do like when we shower together. It’s not my fault one of us is in need of them so often.” She enjoyed his reaction and knew this was one to remember for when he was difficult. “How do you prepare your eggs? Do you have turkey sausage?” She couldn’t give a simple answer...

Derek

"It's not my fault that you get me sweaty." He let that linger in the air, but eventually shook his head, knowing that he was being ridiculous. He was keeping his elbows tightly contained into his sides now, eyes flicking to her hands every so often so that she couldn't get the jump on her. "However you want. And I can run down to the corner store."

Quinn

Quinn’s head lowered slightly, eyes on him with a you-can’t-be-serous expression before a bit of a scoffing laugh escaped. “Is that so?” The smile gave away how flattered she is. Quinn’s hands went to Derek’s back now and she drummed her fingertips while he spoke. “Very well. I won’t be too difficult by requesting an egg white scramble with diced tomatoes, spinach and peppers. Only letting you know for next time. I will like turkey sausage, an English muffin and fruit salad with a cup of low fat yogurt. I’ll make coffee here.” Now to see if he’ll actually put this together for her or not.

Derek

Derek hesitated, pulling away from her so that he could go to the fridge. Ordinarily, it would be a lot of chicken ready to be de-skinned and baked, salmon, and green vegetables, but he'd diversified a little bit with a second person in the house. He triumphantly pulled out each ingredient in turn and set to work, first grabbing his plate and taking a bite of the bagel, dipped hurriedly in the cream cheese. "What would have been too difficult?"

Quinn

She went to the counter and leaned a hip against it, forearm on the counter top while she shook her head in disbelief. “I’m surprised. And impressed. Maybe a little turned on, too. Do you typically eat this kind of food.” Quinn picked up the fruit and went to the sink to wash them. “The scrambled eggs. It’s a pain the separate the yolk.”

Derek

Derek just shook his head. "You underestimate me." He got down a small mixing bowl, then dug out an almost empty water bottle from the fridge. He drained it, and popped the eggs one by one out of the bowl by squeezing the water bottle against them and letting the yolk fill the vacuum. "I hate tomatoes. And I prefer chard to spinach."

Quinn

“I’ve seen this done before but never tried it in my own.” She said after the fruit was placed into a bowl and set to the side. “Who taught you how to cook?” Her hands dried on a small towel and she gathered the vegetables. “I’ve never had chard with eggs before. I’ll give them a try. Why don’t you like tomatoes?” After she asked this Quinn realized there was still a lot to learn about Derek. “I don’t like the taste of raw mushrooms. Cooked is fine.”

Derek

"Oh, no, not in eggs. Just in general. Eggs, I go for ketchup or a little bit of bleu or goat cheese. Depending on the mood." He went over to wash his hands quickly, and fished out a pan when he came back. "My dad taught me how to cook. Five kids. I spent all the time with him that I could get my hands on. Especially because he really didn't know the first thing about sports, and I was the sporty kid." He started up dicing the peppers on a little cutting board. "I hate tomatoes. I love pico. I love ketchup. I hate red sauces, like pizza and pasta sauces. I have no way of justifying this. I hate cooked mushrooms. Raw is fine. I'm not making this up."

Quinn

Once everything was finished she went back to the counter and brought herself up to sit and watch while Derek prepared breakfast. “So you and your dad would cook for a family of werewolves? Were the meals a ridiculous amount of food? Just from speaking to Carter alone I see how big a werewolf’s appetite can be.” Quinn’s fingers trailed through her hair and she had to take that moment to give Derek a playful poke with her toe. “You’re more of a pain in the ass when it comes to food than me.”

Derek

"The meals were insane." Derek used the blade of the knife to get all of the vegetables into the pan with just a little bit of oil to get some color on them, and he threw the tomatoes in a minute or so later, before he added the eggs. "Especially with my mom as an alpha. I still watch Laura put away way more food than even Carter can. And part of Carter's appetite is definitely just Carter." He poked her back, aiming for her stomach. "When you're in shape, they don't call it picky. They call it disciplined."

Quinn

“And your dad? He was human wasn’t he? Or did he get turned by an Alpha?” Quinn hoped she remembered this correctly as she wanted to understand and follow everything Derek told her. “Well, your cousin eats a lot then. He talked about McDonalds and this steak house which has an all you can eat special. I mentioned the three of us should go together. Give me a chance to meet him in person.” Quinn recoiled from the poke and batted at his hand. “No. I’m calling it picky.”

Derek

"My dad stayed human, yeah." He smiled a little bit at how she had remembered. "Supposedly didn't take it quite so much in stride when he found out. But the timeline between the wedding and Laura is a little sketchy, so he probably didn't have the same luxury of decision making." He worked on scrambling the eggs, working through it all with a rubber spatula. "He does eat a lot. And I think that's a great idea. Let me know what he says." He grabbed for her hand, reflexes quick, and pressed a kiss against the back of it. "I can put mushrooms in this right now."

Quinn

Quinn was glad to see she remembered correctly and smiled happily at this. “So it’s not unusual for a human and a werewolf to get married and have children? Because, and I’m being honest, I don’t know if I can be one.” They’ve been up front and honest about everything and Quinn wanted to get this out in the open. She reached out and tugged on Derek’s shirt to pull him to stand between her legs. “In a moment.” Her hand passed through his hair and she leaned forward to kiss his lips.

Derek

"It's not uncommon at all." He kissed her, hands placed on her legs, and he couldn't even bring his face away when he pulled back. "I don't know if I even want you to take the bite. It's dangerous. And I... I like you just the way you are." He nudged their noses together, suddenly conscious of what he'd said to Carter the other day, about how being with Quinn made him feel fifteen years old. "...So, you know how Punnett squares work?" An insanely idiotic question from someone who had last taken biology in tenth grade to someone with an M.S., approaching a doctorate.(edited)

Quinn

“You mean if I ever decide to take the bite you won’t like me as much?” She teased, kissing him again before giving Derek a swat on the arm: light and playful. “I know how distracting I can be but if you burn my eggs I’ll whine. A lot.” She kissed his nose. Something cutesy and unlike her but it was easy to do with him. “Vaguely. I haven’t looked at one in awhile.” The question was out of left field though she was curious what was on his mind.May 17, 2018

Derek

"It would be one of the most worrying things that ever happened to me. But if it was what you decided to do, I'd support you." His attention went back to the stove, and he stirred the eggs around a bit to make sure thst they were evenly cooked before throwing them onto a plate. "So, I have one, dominant werewolf gene. And you don't. So there's a 25% chance any kid we had would be human. Also terrifying."

Quinn

“Why would it worry you?” She expected a smart ass response but was greeted with this instead. Quinn slid off the counter and turned around to gather small bowls for the fruit salad. “That’s better than a 0% chance.” She scooped out the fruit and set it to the side before she went to warm water in the electric kettle she brought from her house. “Then the chance we may have one human kid isn’t completely written off.” Soon the French press had fresh coffee grounds, ready for the hot water. “Why is that terrifying?” Quinn was in her head, wondering if having a human child would make her more attached to the others but she knew her was ridiculous; so Derek’s last sentence didn’t register until later.

Derek

"Because there's a chance that the bite doesn't take, and that you would die a horrific and painful death," Derek said, and he didn't seem to be aware of how he was gripping the counter, tendons on his hand extremely prominent. "...Would you not want a child who was a werewolf? I think it would be terrifying because human children get hurt. And sick. I broke four ribs and punctured a lung once and I was up and playing the next day."

Quinn

This took time to sink in and Quinn, who kept by the kettle looked to him. “Are there people who willingly take the bite, knowing those consequences?” While she asked her hand went to her cross to fidget, unaware of this until a few beats later. Quinn turned the kettle off and poured the hot water in. “I know I’ll love all our children, Derek but I do have concerns when it comes to mothering werewolves. I mean. You just said you broke ribs and punctured a lung. That would give me a heart attack.”

Derek

Derek nodded, and he finally glanced down at his hands. He pulled away fron the countertop altogether. "There are. And even the... vast majority of people who got it violently are fine. But some..." he shook his head, and turned to lean against the counter. "Human children break ribs and puncture lungs too. They spend weeks in the hospital for it."

Quinn

“Weeks compared to a day is a major difference. Did you even see the inside of a doctor’s office?” Quinn pushed the plunger down slowly and went to Derek and wrapped her arms around his body. “I’m used to certain things, such as people having children who are 100% children and not dying from alpha bites. Please don’t take my inquiries as me dismissing who you are. It hasn’t even been a full week since you told me about all of this so, of course, I need to adjust. I love you and want us to have our life together. The one we’ve been planning since the start.”

Derek

"It was a veterinary clinic." He paused, because he knew that she was going to have some things to say about that, and he pointed a finger into her face. "Which is something very typical for our pack, because our emissary was a vet, and he saw us in his vet practice, not because werewolves and vets are a thing." But any sass that he had died, and his eyebrows came together as he listened to her. "...I told you you love me."

Quinn

Before she could get a word in Derek went into a quick explanation and it still had her wanting to say more about it, “Why did your emissary pick that as his job? I mean, I can see it works because you don’t have to deal with paperwork or people asking questions.” Her mind went to how she read stories where people who didn’t want to deal with the law visited veterinarians instead. “And there it goes. It went straight to your head.” Her arms raised and she draped them around his neck. “Instead of saying it back you pulled an I told you so. Fitting for us.”

Derek

"He's a druid first. It's a species. Like werewolves or fae or antelopes. They hold all kinds of jobs. Deaton just happened to be a vet. His sister was a guidance counselor. All kinds of jobs." His hands made his way to her back, and he pulled a slow smile. "I love you too. Eat your eggs."

Quinn

“Fae? You mean to tell me fairies are real? How about vampires?” This was a serious question though it felt funny to come out of her. Quinn wondered for the fourth or sixth time since Derek revealed his secret if she was dreaming. “A Druid vet and guidance counselor. It’s not at all what I expected but it’s easier to hide in plain sight.” The smile said it all but Quinn didn’t give one in return. “You still haven’t cooked my sausage or put my yogurt in a bowl.” She didn’t need any of these but it was what they did. Anchored against him Quinn rose on her toes and kissed his lips.

Derek

"You think that werewolves are real and fairies aren't? Every country in the world has mythology about the fae. Ghosts aren't real, at least as far as I know. Vampires... I guess it depends on what you think of when you think of a vampire. There are bat shifters. There are Lilitu. Two totally different things." He haplily returned the kiss, tucking a hand under her butt and supporting her a little bit. "I will go down to the store and get some."

Quinn

“I don’t know what’s real and what’s fake anymore. Until a week ago I thought werewolves were a work of fiction but now I know that’s so far from the truth. And I have to laugh because it would be like me to fall in love with one since I’ve not had the best of luck with the men I’ve dated.” Even though two of those breakups were her doing. Which was something she knew she needed to disclose at some point. Someday... “I’ll have you go to the store later. The eggs will be cold by then and I’ll want you to make them again.” She kissed his chest and pulled away from him. “The coffee is ready. I think I’ll take cream and sugar in mine today. I feel indulgent.”

Derek

The cream had to be opened, foil peeled back from it when he took it out of the fridge. He'd bought it just for her, and carefully added enough so that the color approximately matched how he had seen her take her coffee many times before, and then he added some sugar, taking the mug and the plate of eggs to the table. He sat down with the bagel, taking another happy bite. "You say werewolf like it's a character flaw."

Quinn

Quinn thought back to what she said, bowls of fruit salad in hand as she went to set it on the table. “No. It’s not a flaw.” She didn’t think she made it sound like one. Quinn set one bowl down on Derek’s side of the table before she took a seat. With fork in hand she went ahead and gathered some egg but didn’t bring it to her mouth. “Trust me. If I thought it’s a flaw I wouldn’t be here.”

Derek

"You don't accept flaws in your potential partners?" Derek quirked an eyebrow, but the same smile as always was being fought back on his face. "You made it sound like this was something that you were used to. Deadbeat boyfriend, Asshole boyfriend, werewolf boyfriend. The latest in the chain of Quinn's unfortunate life choices." He ripped off another piece of the bagel, scraping up half the jelly as he went.

Quinn

“No, Derek. I expect the people I date to be as flawless as me.” She placed the food into her mouth and chewed the scrambled eggs slowly while she looked at him. “Why do I get the impression you’re saying these things to rile me up? Don’t you dare list yourself as someone I consider a mistake because I will go over there and take the last of that bagel. Then smack you.”

Derek

"So long as you don't smack me with the bagel, I think we're going to be okay. Though, I think I still need a shower. What do you think?" He was still absolutely shimmering with sweat after his jog, and there was still a full order of bodyweight exercises for him to get through before he would even get to the bathroom. "I mean, I think, comparatively, I'm pretty flawless."

Quinn

“On second thought I’ll stay here. I can’t smell you.” She laughed and went for another forkful of the eggs. “I think you should have showered as soon as you walked through the front door. And you’re not flawless. You’re a pain in the ass.” As soon as she said this Quinn laughed, lowering the fork onto the plate to cover her mouth. “We’re quite the pair, aren’t we?”

Derek

"A pair is one word for us." Derek ducked his head to hide his smile, tearing off another hunk of bagel with his teeth, just picking it up with his hands this time and going for it. "Yeah, but then you get to see me not holding back on doing push ups. If I towel off, will you sit on my back?"

Quinn

Quinn moved from the eggs to her small bowl of fruit, and she glanced at Derek after the suggestion was made. “I’ve only seen you run and collide with bikes so I don’t know how you held back before.” Something clicked just then. “Your sense of smell, sight and hearing are heightened yet you were still too distracted by me the afternoon you ran into the bike? Was it my scent or seeing me from a distance which caught your attention?”

Derek

Derek hadn't expected to be called out like this before he'd finished his breakfast, and he gave a small cough. He was silent for a couple of beats. "I... was distracted the same way that any red-blooded man would be distracted to be seeing you doing yoga in the park like that. I might be a werewolf, but I'm not a monster."

Quinn

There was still fruit left but Quinn abandoned it for the time being and went over to Derek. She stood behind him and lowered, wrapping her arms around his neck, loosely and lowering down to hug him. Quinn kissed the side of his cheek and smiled against it. “So I turned you on in public?” She had to ask instead of leaving it alone.

Derek

Derek turned back a little, just so that he could see Quinn out of the corner of his eye. The littlest rumble came from his throat. "Turned me on is a bit of a strong word, wouldn't you say?" But he wasn't denying it. He couldn't get to the right angle where he could kiss her from the chair, but he wasn't willing to disturb the grip she had on him.

Quinn

To give him a bit of a hard time, Quinn shifted over and went to Derek’s other cheek; kissing it a few times and had to fight back a laugh with what was said. “Then how would you put it because what you said before made me think you pictured me sexually even before you knew my name.” Her breasts pressed against the back of his shoulders and as much as she teased about Derek needing to shower after his run, she didn’t actually mind how sweaty he got.

Derek

"No one said that it was sexual." He knew that he was fighting a losing war here, but he wasn't going to go down without having given his best. He finally turned around to the side in the chair, bringing her down to kiss him on the lips. It lasted for a few beats before turning back. "What did you think of me, besides that I was an idiot?"

Quinn

"How can it not be sexual when you said red-blooded man. It leads me to view it as you wanted to have a go at me while I was in the middle of one of my positions." She teased, sitting close to him now she was on his lip. Quinn's hand went to the back of Derek's neck and she leaned in to kiss but merely brushed their noses together. "That was it. You nailed it." He hadn't but why should Quinn give away what her actual thoughts were, doing her best to keep her heart rate low because she didn't need her boyfriend to call out her lie.

Derek

Derek felt a little robbed when he wasn't kissed, but he leaned up to meet her lips anyway, after the soft touch of her nose. "Was I at least an attractive idiot?" he asked, touching at her wrist. It was a subtle way to get a better read on her heart, pressed up against te skin like that.

Quinn

She shrugged a shoulder and said, “An alright looking idiot is more like it.” Quinn slipped her wrist away from his hand and went to stand which only lasted a second as she changed her position to straddle his lap. “You may have been distracted when you ran into the bike-“ Quinn’s forearms fell upon his shoulders and her fingers caressed the sides of Derek’s bearded cheeks, “but when I went to check how you and the bicyclist were you must have heard and sensed my reaction to you.” She spoke so easily about one of his abilities, as if everyone could do this. “I couldn’t stop looking at you. The way you had your arms on full display...it made me want to touch you.”

Derek

"See, I'm gathering so much data from this." He wrapped his hands around her, reaching around so that he could pop the very last of his bagel into his mouth. "For example, I didn't know that your eyes went right to my arms. I can just do curls until I die. I never need to do a sit-up again." He pursed his lips just a little to fight off his smile. "What if everyone reacts like that to me? What if I just block it out?"

Quinn

“Don’t you dare stop working out the rest of your body. I expect all of this to be in top shape.” Quinn leaned back and dragged her hands down his chest. How was it he still felt damp from sweat? Quinn’s hands pushed underneath his shirt and touched the skin of Derek’s stomach. “You better keep blocking it out because I’m the only one that matters.” He was so cocky and it made her smile because she liked when he acted this way.

Derek

"Only the best for you, my love." He was a little surprised with himself at how quick the pet name rolled off of his tongue. He groaned against the contact, half expecing the scrape of her nails against one of the few vulnerable spots on his body. "Possessive?"

Quinn

“Did you call me possessive?” She knew he did, nails scraped along his skin while her gaze was on his. “Maybe I am. I place the blame on you.” Her nails went upwards and she laid her palms flat against Derek’s chest; the shirt material collected at her wrists so she could peek down at his body whenever she wanted.

Derek

The second he felt the contact from the nails, he felt an irrational feeling of closeness towards her, because he just knew her so well, felt so connected to her that moment that he had to kiss her, something hard and, yes, possessive curling up inside of him. "Victim blaming. I feel the same way, though."

Quinn

When the kiss came, Quinn fell back momentarily and felt the press of the table against her lower back. It was hard and hungry, a combination which thrilled her. Quinn’s hand curled just enough to scratch his skin; intentionally doing it this time. “How are you the victim?” She asked breathlessly. “I want everyone to know you’re mine.” She didn’t know where this came from or why she said it but she felt that need for him to hear it. “You can wear a shirt which says Quinn’s boyfriend on it.”

Derek

Derek stood up now that he had Quinn against the table, lifting her up the littlest bit until she was resting on top of it. His skin healed quickly over her touch, not even able to leave a mark long enough to see it, as her fingernails would be blocking the way until it was able to heal. "Where are we going to get a shirt like that? And I think we have those in this culture. That's a wedding ring."

Quinn

Up on the table she looked behind her and moved some items out of the way but was interrupted halfway through the clearing. “True. Or a tattoo.” She didn’t anticipate this and thought it over. “You and I both know a proposal is coming. We’ve been talking about our future like a couple people who don’t want to bother with the dating norms.” Her hands went to Derek’s shirt and she pulled it up.

Derek

"I'd get another tattoo, but I have to get it physically burned onto my body with a flamethrower." That knowledge might bring to light the one that was already on his back, and maybe illuminate the lack of detailing or color that really went into it. "You're going to propose to me?" he raised his arms, letting the shirt fall to the floor. "That's so sweet. I was a round diamond the size of a ring pop."

Quinn

“A flamethrower? Are you serious? Why would it take that to get a tattoo?” Quinn’s hands rested in his hips, thinking of the black symbol on his back. “It’s so neat and precise...” she whispered to herself about it. “I have a tattoo. I cover it with makeup everyday to keep from being reminded of it.” Then, with a soft laugh and shake of her head. “You’re too high maintenance, Mr. Hale. I can’t keep up with your luxurious taste.”

Derek

"A flamethrower. My skin heals around the ink. My body has a lot of compensatory measures in place to eject poison. But if you burn something into it, it tends to keep the shape. You might need to get it touched up over time." Hie eyebrows went up, and he grabbed her arm, looking over it. "You have a tattoo? Quinn, I've seen your entire body. What are you talking about? And... fine. If you think so, I'll have to take matters into my own hands."

Quinn

“You do know how ridiculous that sounds don’t you? Not that I don’t believe you and don’t even try to demonstrate it because I doubt I’ll be able to stomach it.” She said, clearly in disbelief. There was so much to take in with what Derek was capable of, how different their bodies were. “I use-“ her hand went up to smooth his raised eyebrows and laughed. “I use some expensive tattoo concealer. I don’t like seeing it as it’s a reminder of a not so great time of my life.”

Derek

Derek did relax his eyebrows, but he was still looking around at Quinn's skin for evidence of any little patch of makeup. He seemed increasingly displeased when he couldn't find anything. "I know. Everything that I say sounds ridiculous. It's not common for werewolves to get tattoos. Mine's special." He scented at her skin, trying to pick out where a smell of concealer might be coming from.

Quinn

There he went on the hunt and Quinn wanted to let Derek carry on, giving him the chance to find it but she decided to throw him a bone and stood up, turning around. A hand went to raise the back of her shirt and the faintest indication that there was something there could be spotted. The tattoo wasn’t as dark as Derek’s which made it easier to cover. “I need to get this removed.” She said, leaving the shirt up. She knew what was coming next and didn’t want to reveal the tattoo to him.

Derek

Derek grabbed one of the napkins off of the holder on the table, licking it and rubbing at the tattoo. It didn't pull off perfectly, being good enough concealer, but enough that he could vaguely see what it was. That only raised his curiosity, and he worked at it a little more. "Is... Is that Jason Bateman?"

Quinn

As expected she felt him wipe at the tattoo and Quinn closed her eyes. Everyone from high school knew about the tattoo, which happened during a time when she struggled with her identity and depression which followed giving Beth up. Why she picked that or what made even think it was ironic to begin with. Also the guy turned out to be a scumbag recently and now she had that inked onto her body. “No.” She blew out a breath and said. “Ryan Seacrest.”

Derek

There were a million questions flooding Derek's mind as he learned the identity of the blobbed face, still mostly covered by the makeup, and he tilted his head to the side a little bit. He walked around so that he could face her properly, and took her hand, kissing the knuckles. "Let's google some tattoo removal clinics."

Quinn

“I considered going to one but I read it hurts. A lot. I’ve been through child birth and-“ she was about to reveal she had a nose job but was that something he needed to know? Then she might have to talk about her days before she transferred to her high school as a whole new Quinn. Leaving Lucy behind in the past. “I’m only making excuses. She admitted. I hope it doesn’t leave a a scar. It’ll be nice to stop applying this cover up every day.”

Derek

"I'll be there to hold your hand." He raised it up a little bit, and squeezed the hand. Maybe it wouldn't be ideal for him to sit there for an hour six times over six weeks, but he was willing to do a lot to make sure that Quinn was happy and comfortable. "We'll find someone really good. We can take our time to research it."

Quinn

She returned to sit on the table, which wasn’t an ideal spot but it kept her high enough for them to look at each other without hurting her neck. “We’ll see after the first session. It might not be as bad as I painted it.” Quinn pulled him over and and stared at him for a good while before she said, “Sometimes I think I don’t deserve you.” This wasn’t easy to admit and for her to do so wasn’t what she expected to do as she was a rather proud woman. With Derek, however, she found herself giving him that glimpse over the sturdy brick wall she constructed over the years.

Derek

That had Derek stepping forward, defeating the point of her not having to arch her neck fairly well, and he moved her legs apart just a little bit so that he could stand between them. "...Yeah?" He was quiet for a beat as he debated whether or not to be exactly as vulnerable and cheesy. But it was never a real debate with Quinn. "I feel the exact same way."

Quinn

With him between her legs, both hands on his bare sides, she drummed her fingers before pressing her forehead to Derek’s shoulder. She needed a moment to compose herself as there was something about this which struck her. “I used to bully people. When I joined the Cheerios, the cheer squad at my high school, and was made head cheerleaders it fueled my need for power. To be on top.” She pulled away from him now and looked up. “I think back on those years and wonder if karma had gotten back at me with everything’s that’s happened.” Her head shook slowly and she dropped her eyes again. Quinn licked her lips and grew quiet. “I don’t see myself as a good person. I’ve been working on it over the years and I’ve talked to my priest about it but I keep thinking that maybe I’m inherently selfish and cold and-“ she took in a breath and scoffed at her own behavior. “mean.”

Derek

Derek related to it all in a way that he couldn't even begin to describe to Quinn. He nodded, unable to look away from her eyes until they broke contact with his. He was fighting every instinct to tilt her chin up and regain the connection. She was going to come back to him when she was ready. "You're not a mean person, Quinn." His voice was even, without an ounce of pity. "You're strong, and self-righteous, and independent, and that wasn't a choice for you. You're not going to let other people make you feel less about yourself because of how they're trying to keep you down."

Quinn

One thing Quinn hated was vulnerability. It was something which developed over the years when she was a little girl who wanted to be taken seriously. In camp, at church, in school. Even at home. It was a constant battle for affection and it wasn’t until she managed to lose a lot of weight and go under the knife, entering McKinley with a new persona, that she got what she’d been chasing. It paid off but it came at a cost, causing her to act in a way which she later regretted. The regret that Derek might be able to get a glimpse of now that she brought her eyes back to his. His understanding warmed her and she thought that maybe he actually did mean it and wasn’t just saying words at her. Which would be a first for him as Derek’s honesty was very prevalent since the beginning. “I won’t. I won’t let anyone do that to me again. I wish I went about it in a different way with certain people.” It took everything inside to not crumble. “You are the best thing to happen to me. My love for you is one I’m completely sure of. You came at a time when I needed someone who can understand where I come from and I hope you feel you’re able to get that with me.”

Derek

Derek nodded, and he couldn't even glance away from her, afraid that this open side of her would be completely gone by the time his eyes made their way back. His hands went to her legs, and he grabbed at their sides a little bit, needing to feel her, real and concrete under him as he heard these words. "I love you too." He leaned in so that he could kiss her, though he was fairly quick about it. "I moved to Amsterdam because I needed a change. I was in a rut. I wanted to get away from my old life, and my guilt, and my mistakes, and be a new person."

Quinn

Her hands went to his shoulders and pushed toward his neck until she comfortably relaxed her arms along the sides of it. “Did it help?” She couldn’t possibly begin to piece together the guilt he must feel, certain it must be something terrible.

Derek

It was terrible, it was a weight that was never more than a moment or two from his mind, and he looked at her with such a softness in his eyes, such appreciation, that it was wonderful that he could stand with the weight of it. He nodded. "I feel like I have a future."

Quinn

To take in the look he gave her, it practically swept aside the contempt thoughts which plagued her on a daily basis. “A future together.” She smiled, it small and yet noticeable. Quinn kissed his lips and kept it longer than the one he gave before as she felt the both of them needed this. She pulled back, but kissed his lips a couple more tiles before she stopped completely. “Maybe I need to stop assuming the worse and accept that there is the possibility of a good life. I thought I was destined to be either alone because,” she laughed at what she was about to say, “I don’t think I’m the easiest person to love for the long term. When we’re together I know, without a doubt, you intend to stay with me. Even when I turn into a bitch about things or give you a hard time. Since it’s in my nature.”

Derek

Derek looked over her face again, one last examining look. She was saying these things, about how she always thought that she would be alone, why she thought so, and... if he had already told her about Kate, about the worst thing that he had ever done, and how she was still here in front of him, Quinn was someone who deserved to know the truth. He took her shoulders lightly, feeling the tone in the air change a bit with the gesture. "...You know how I keep giving you very good reasons to grab the door and run?"

Quinn

“And I keep proving how stubborn I am by making myself further at home.” She replied, tilting her head to the side. This did cross her mind at times, how she’ll have to keep adjusting to life with him. That she hasn’t been through a full moon with him. Or...she had but didn’t realize it. The night at the club came to mind and Quinn recalled the way he seemed and how he wasn’t happy with what happened to her. Quinn looked at him and waited, keeping quiet about the memory.

Derek

"Stubborn is one word for it." He sighed, but there was no exasperation behind it. He looked down at her shoulders, his hands, one of the places that they were connected at the moment, because looking at her in the face sometimes felt just like looking at the sun. "I killed someone. A long time ago."

Quinn

This caused her breath to catch in her throat and Quinn assumption the guilt must be attached to something terrible came to fruition. She was sure he picked up the change in her pulse but what kept her from moving away from him was the way Derek had carried himself with her and everyone he’s been in contact with. He didn’t strike her as some sort of stone-cold killer. “What happened?” She chose to ask. In need of the story.

Derek

Derek's eyes closed. It had taken a long time for him to piece the events of the night together, blinded by how his mind had tried to shut as much of it out as possible, pieced together by Peter's timeline and his mother's memories through his eyes of what had happened. "...Her name was Paige. I was fifteen years old. I... had someone give her the bite. A stranger. I didn't tell her. I didn't ask her. I just did it. And she was dying. So I... broke her spine." His voice stayed even, even as he felt the snap of the bones underneath his hands, something that he felt at least once a day.

Quinn

“Why did you ask someone to give her the bite?” When Derek spoke of the bite to her before he made it very clear it wasn’t something which needed to be done. That it has the potential to kill you. Quinn’s hands went to Derek’s cheeks and she brushed the side of her thumbs along the grain of his beard. Her heart hurt from the expression he wore and she knew this was a heavy burden of his.

Derek

Derek's stomach clenched at the question. It was something that he asked himself a lot. "...I wanted her to be like me." He opened his eyes finally, looking up at her. "The same things I've told you. I wanted her to be strong. To heal. To not get sick. I was afraid she'd leave when she found out what I was. These were all things people were warning me about. I didn't know..."

Quinn

“People told you she would leave if she found out the truth?” Quinn remembered how fifteen was and how impressionable you can be of how bad choices were usually done with the encouragement of others. Beth was the result of wine coolers which led to sleeping with one of Finn’s friends. This was on a whole other plain and she didn’t drop her hands. “Did you know there was the possibility of death before you asked someone to bite her?”

Derek

Derek nodded. "...Yeah. I... one of the things I remember most clearly is my uncle Peter telling me that... Gods, it all sounds so stupid and insignificant now. He would tell me that the perfect ones always left when they found out. "It wasn't the first time in my life I'd heard it. We were cautious around humans. We protected ourselves. ...I knew. It could happen to old people, sick people... babies. No one could have expected it to happen to her."

Quinn

Quinn’s hands went to his shoulders now and she made sure their eyes were connected. “You were fifteen and listened to someone who you thought you can rely on. It cost someone’s life and it’s-“ she placed herself in that girl’s shoes. Bitten without knowing why and only dying once the pain got to be done, due to a mercy kill from the person who set it in motion. Quinn let a shuddery breath out and hadn’t realized her gaze fallen until she looked at him again. Her hazel eyes shone with tears which threatened to spill over the last hour. “You loved her. You wanted to be with her completely and thought the only way to make it possible is if she was like you.”

Derek

Derek wanted to look away, look down, break this gaze, but he felt stuck to the ground, the same way he would if he had been facing his mother or his sister, his alpha, someone with complete contrpl over him. He nodded a little; that was all that he could do. "...she wasn't a... life lesson. She wasn't just my girlfriend. She was a person. She was a concert cellist. She had two older brothers. She loved The Wizard of Oz."

Quinn

Her lips pressed together and Quinn found her lower lip trapped underneath her teeth, releasing it slowly. Her arms went down and slipped around Derek’s middle and brought him completely to her. She pushed her hands up the middle of his back for a moment before she brought her right one back to his neck and slid it upwards to his head. Quinn pulled Derek down so she could hug him as best as she could, guiding his forehead to her shoulder while she kept a hold of him. “You didn’t mean for it to happen, Derek. You thought she was strong enough to survive the bite. You made a mistake of going against your better judgment and forced a life you weren’t even sure she wanted. But you didn’t mean for her to die.” She said, keeping her voice low while her own tears finally spilled.

Derek

Derek felt torn in several different directions when Quinn tilted his head into her shoulder. Whether to stand up and comfort her, because he could tell that her chemosignals where going crazy, or to pull away and change the topic, or... He had it decided for him when a powerful tremble came from somewhere deep inside of him, and it rolled into a full-body shudder againsf her embrace. "No. I... I've never meant to hurt anyone."

Quinn

Her hand stroked his back and didn't say anything while she held Derek close. Her cheek nuzzled against his hair and temple, turning every so often to kiss these very spots. There was still a lot to process with what he revealed to her but right now she wanted him to know she was here. She was going to listen and place herself in his shoes. She wanted to be more than his girlfriend, as Quinn wanted Derek to know she was his friend as well. "What happened to her after you broke her spine?" She could have left the question for later but chose not to.

Derek

Derek felt his bile rise at the question, at the memory, but the less primal part of him realized that it was valid, and that this was something that he needed to talk about with Quinn. But that didn't stop him from gripping just a little tighter, to stop his hands from shaking. "...Peter took her from me. I still don't know how he knew that I was there, or what happened. He took her into the woods, near our home, where someone would find her. Everyone... thought that it was an animal attack."

Quinn

"That's-" she thought of the right word to use here though chose to go with the one which came to mind, "terrible. To be found in the woods. For her family to think of their daughter out there on her own with questions as to why she was there in the first place." Quinn kept the rest of her comments to herself as she knew it wasn't helping. "Was there a funeral?" She hoped there was and that the bite was done in a place where it wouldn't keep it fr- Even thinking about this caused Quinn to closed her eyes and cry a little more. It was a lot.

Derek

There was another one of those deep rolling shudders, the nauseous feeling doing nothing to be eased away. He pulled back and swiped across his face a little bit. "There was a funeral," he said, remembering the day. "I... I didn't go. What right did I have to look her parents in the eye and..." he swallowed the rest of his sentence down. "I dropped out about a week later."

Quinn

Quinn knew something about not attending funerals for someone she loved but she didn't dare bring that up with Derek right now. Instead her hands returned to Derek's cheeks hands covering part of the dark beard which she preferred over clean shaven. "With what happened? No, it would have been wrong to be at the funeral but you needed that time to say goodbye. Grieve. To unload everything that's accumulated inside you since the moment the bite was planned." Quinn kept such a soft and understanding voice as she spoke, tear tracks evident on her pale cheeks. "This is such a tragic story and I wish I can help soothe the pain." Her brows came together and she licked her lips. "Do you want to visit her when we got to the states?"

Derek

It was one of those moments where Derek was sure that he didn't deserve the touch, shouldn't have someone in front of him right now, witnessing this and being forced to say these pitying things. He squared his shoulders off, picking his head up fully, jaw cracking a bit as he stretched it from where it had been so tense before. "...If we go to Maryland... I like to spend my time with Peter there."

Quinn

"The uncle who told you to bite Paige?" Quinn didn't think she would like this man if she ever met him, which was inevitable as she wanted to meet all of his family. The way Derek stood now felt different than before and she lowered her hands and folded them in her lap. "Will you want me to stay elsewhere?"

Derek

"He was my best friend. And it's not like he knew any better either." He felt this surge of defensiveness for Peter, and he realized that Quinn might not know. He might not have told her, or she might not remember. He was always throwing so much at her. "Peter's been in... he's essentially in a coma since the fire. He doesn't show a lot of brain activity. That's your decision."

Quinn

How could she forget...? Quinn needed to have a sit down and piece together everything Derek shared since they first started to talk, as there was so much happening and the amount of names which swirled in her head felt as if they jumbled together: Peter, Laura, Paige, Eric, Kayla, Cora...She wasn't sure if that was everyone and didn't even count Carter as he was here in Amsterdam. "No. I'll stay with you. I-" she didn't want to admit this, "it slipped my mind." She sounded defeated because she hated not keeping track of all the important things in his life.

Derek

Derek didn't know how to keep track of what had happened in those formative years of his life. So much of it was a blur, and omission from the sheer trauma of it all. "...i really appreciate that." He leaned over and kissed her quickly. "I know. I know. It's a lot."

Quinn

“Derek,” she started and looked into his eyes. There was a sadness she never seen before and she wondered if it was always there and she hadn’t picked up on it. “What happened was a mistake and it cost the life of someone you love. But it doesn’t mean you’re a monster. A terrible person. You were young and you felt you were giving her a life she would have wanted. A life with you.” Both her hands took his. “To take her life wasn’t easy. I know it wasn’t as you most likely hoped her body would take the bite at the last possible second but,” her eyes shimmered with unfallen tears. “it’s what needed to be done to save her from any more pain. Paige was with you in her final moments and as sad and heartbreaking it was you were with her. She didn’t die alone because I’m sure that girl loved you as much as you loved her.”

Derek

He held her close now, hands going around her back, and he watched her for a couple of seconds, his eyes shining a little bit. "I know. I know. I've... had a lot of time to think about this. Half a lifetime. I'm alright. I get through it. I know that... everything's going to be alright. "And I just need to move forward, Quinn."

Quinn

“Just like you said before. You feel like you have a future and I hope it’ll be one you want with me.” Was this really the time to bring this up? Derek shared something personal, something many would see as terrible and probably unforgivable but Derek shown his heart to her and how good a man he is. “There is something I should let you know. I didn’t know how to bring this up because it’s never a good time to, but I feel this is our chance to be up front with each other. To make sure this is what we want.”Even thinking it made her stomach clench and she took a deep breath. “I cheated one two of my boyfriends. I cheated on Finn and on Sam.” She didn’t want to continue but did. “I got pregnant with Beth by Finn’s friend Puck.”

Derek

Derek took a couple of seconds to process that. She had cheated on Sam? And they were still friends? Had that been what had broken them up? She'd gotten pregnant when she had treated on her boyfriend? He thought about how to react for a few seconds. "...I couldn't imagine that. Especially at fifteen... sixteen... you must have felt so alone."

Quinn

Quinn opened her mouth a promptly closed it because she didn’t know how to follow that up. A hand went to comb through her blonde hair and she took in a lungful of air before releasing it slowly. “When I cheated on Finn I was so caught up with being popular and being the center of attention. I wasn’t very popular or well-liked before I went to McKinley and it went right to my head. Then things happened with Puck. I was drunk and he told me to trust him, which was so unbelievably stupid. I couldn’t even own up to what I did when I found out I was pregnant and I made Finn think he aaa the dad even when we’ve never had sex.” Quinn had to pause with this. “I told you. I’m not a good person. A good person wouldn’t do this to someone.” She hates the fact she was crying over this when it was her own doing for this happening in the first place.

Derek

Derek nodded. These weren't problems that he could understand, and he forced himself to listen, instead of solve and sympathize, which seemed to open be how he brute-forced his way through these types of issues. He looked her in the eyes when she gave him a chance, and his thumb came up to wipe away at a tear. At this point, it seemed like sticking his finger into a dam. "You were sixteen years old, and you were trying to make the best decision, even if it wasn't the right one, even if you knew that at the time. You were in desperate circumstances. You're not the same person you were then."

Quinn

She wasn’t and she knew this. She’d grown from her mistakes and learned from so much pain which shaped her into the woman who sat before Derek. She was still strong, stubborn, and maybe arrogant at times but she also came into herself and didn’t allow her thoughts to steer her into situations which would not only hurt the ones she cared for. But herself as well. She nodded at last and reached for him. There was so much more she wanted to say but the tears and the things they said to each other left her mentally exhausted. “God. Look at us.” Her hand went to swipe at the tears and Quinn tried to do what she always did whenever to cried; brush it aside and act as if nothing happened. Though, “I think we did something that most couples don’t do until well into their relationships.”

Derek

"Since when are we most couples?" Derek asked, but even through his soft smile, he knew that she had a point. They hadn't even officially been dating for a month, and he already had ideas that Quinn's friends didn't like, he was sure, that he knew Carter didn't like, and... well, if he hadn't told Laura yet, then it was sure to not be a very good idea. But it didn't stop him from wanting it. "You wanna walk with me to class?" There was a train ride in there, but most of the walk was peaceful, and made all the better if Quinn was there.

Quinn

Quinn smiled which felt foreign at this point. She wanted to tell Derek to not go to his classes but it was towards the end of his semester and she wouldn’t dare encourage him to jeopardize his education. “I walk sounds nice.” She said at last, kissing him. “You don’t plan to shower? I think it’s my duty as your girlfriend to order you to take a quick one.”

Derek

"Can't I just pretend to be fifteen for the day?" Derek asked, thinking about how he was going to have to walk out of the room, away from this bubble, and not being too excited at the prospect. "Get a can of body spray down at the corner store? My deodorant is Hermes. No one's ever going to smell me." He pressed their foreheads together quickly. "Besides, I don't care what anyone else thinks."

Quinn

“No. I rather you don’t because I’m the one who has to smell you while we’re together.” She placed her hands on his chest and backed away. Quinn walked around him and gave Derek a light, playful swat on the ass. “Come on. We’ll get one together. I’ll even let you wash my body.”

Derek

"You think that's going to be a quick shower?" But there wasn't any hint of complaining in his voice. At some point, Derek had bought shorts that were actually appropriate for running, and they made their way fast to the hard floor of the kitchen as he grabbed her hand, pulling her towards the stairs.

Quinn

When his shorts hit the floor Quinn shook her head because that was the fastest she’d seen him undress. “As long as we don’t wet my hair then we can be in and out.” With the way Derek bounded up the steps she knew it’d be faster if he just flung her over his shoulder.

Derek

Derek was right there with her, spending half of his time on the same wavelength as her. He lifted her up when they hit the stairs, taking them two at a time, even though that wasn't where he maxed out. He was still used to hiding that part of himself around her, away from home. "You good?" He set her down as they hit the top.

Quinn

It wasn’t over his shoulder but it still left Quinn breathless from the momentary thrill which came from the sprint. “I am.” She pushed her hair away from her face and walked away from Derek. They should hold off with the sex until later, after she processed everything which happened today but she also wanted that connection with him. Quinn pulled her shirt off and tossed it by the bed and made quick work of her sports bra. The tattoo on her lower back was partially visible from where Derek uncovered it and Quinn went straight to the bathroom. “You better hurry up.” She teased.

#para: derek #murder tw #death tw #cheating tw #infidelity tw

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elliotbathory · 7 years ago

Text

The End of the War

Part I: Introduction (An essay relating song lyrics to my mental health issues and addiction, written late 2017) Part II: Confrontation (A journal entry, written upon entering rehab) Part III: Resolution (A short story about ego death, written in rehab)

Part I: A Bigger Paper Bag

From Father John Misty’s album Pure Comedy. The album has had a deep impact on my life and I have an emotional connection with each individual song. Some view the artist as a contrived, self-absorbed, false prophet. I think he knows exactly who is and what he is trying to do. Pure Comedy touches me in a way that no other album since The Who’s Quadrophenia has. I identified with the protagonist, Jimmy, for many years. His depression, his recklessness, his desperate desire to ‘get out [his] head’. Father John Misty has created a sonic place in which I can rest with my deep despair about the state of the world. Dark, clever, occasionally very witty, and of course, real. What follows is an exploration into the many ways in which I, including my inner Jimmy, relate to 'A Bigger Paper Bag’.

“Dance like a butterfly and drink like a fish

If you’re bent on taking demons down with only your fist

And I’ve never known anyone who could lose himself in a bigger paper bag”

I am an Aries. I have a fighting spirit. Demons have plagued me for almost my whole life. The first, that of isolation and inability to communicate. The blockage in my head between thought and expression. The second, the very real and intolerably cruel voice of my mother, which informed the third: the person I became after I left the suffocating suburban reality that Jimmy and I both tried so hard to escape.

He said “My mother got drunk on stout, my dad couldn’t stand on two feet.” And yet when they found out he was using uppers, they kicked him out of the house. Desperate to escape himself, he turned to drugs and wild partying. At the age of fifteen I was so desperate to take speed I used to take 8 pseudoephedrine pills at a time and lay in bed for hours shaking with my forehead pressed to the wall. I was nowhere near cool enough to know anyone who could get drugs.

My mother also drank too much. But then, that was not the trigger for the abuse. It only amplified it. So, to “taking demons down with only your fists.” I’ve used almost every other drug over the years, some quite a lot. But my main crutch has always been alcohol, because as I discovered when I was sixteen, it made me feel normal. It taught me to communicate verbally rather than through writing. I am still not convinced that I can socialise without it.

Naturally, it does not end there. Demons have no courtesy. I’ve been drunk for a very large portion of the last four years. It makes things better, until it makes things worse. It in and of itself becomes a demon. You go from longnecks in the park, to two cheap bottles of red, to finding yourself inside a paper bag, the enormity of which you cannot know. There is endless supply in there.

And as for dancing, well, after a (a lot more than), a few gin and tonics, blue under the light, I used to be quite enchanting on stage.

“The weaker the signal, the sweeter the noise

Hunching over an instrument that you now employ

Like the Starvation Army needs a marching piano in the band”

You can tune those demons out, to an extent. The riot of blood rushing through your head after you huff amyl, their complete, albeit temporary erasure when I used to get lost inside 77 on pills, drunkenness and dancing and revelry and other sounds. Britpop, for example. I no longer know if I identify as a hedonist. What I truly was was an escapist. Not an escape artist, however. My attempts to scale the barbed wire fence of my mind and never look back were always cut short.

You come down. Then you wait until you know you can go back up again. Then you do. My partner gets cranky when I try to go out these days and can’t get into it. I am no longer starving for the things I have in life now, like love, understanding, and happiness. Those situations usually now just remind me of how I tried and failed to find happiness in shallow overcompensations. I always wanted to be fun and cool. I’m not.

“Are you feeling used?

I do”

Yes but let’s not get into that. I used myself and I am ashamed.

“Oh, I was pissing on the flame

Like a child with cash or a king on cocaine

I’ve got the world by the balls

Am I supposed to behave?”

For a few years the diagnoisis that suited me best was bipolar II. Soaring highs, or more commonly, crushing lows. There were times when I was on acid or mushrooms in huge crowds and genuinely felt that the entire situation had been constructed specifically for my friends’ and my enjoyment. Eventually, of course, I fell from that specific hallucinogenic throne in a spectacularly violent fashion and developed actue psychosis.

“What a fraud

What a con”

My specific breed of psychosis was as narcissistic as it was unbearable. I was convinced that everyone in the world knew who I was, and everyone hated me. Because how dare I pretend so long to be happy, to be fun, to be a legitimate person worthy of enjoying life. Jimmy also felt as though he was not truly cool enough to be a mod, and was eventually rejected and ridiculed, confirming his self belief. The film adaptation ends with a long shot of him riding his vespa along the sea cliffs.

I believed there was a global conspiracy against me and its end goal was my suicide. I heard passers by spitting insults at me for months on end. I wonder where I got the idea that anyone would do that?

“You’re the only

One I love”

I didn’t used to believe it was enough to love one person romantically. Or rather, I didn’t feel validated enough by the love of one person. I was suffering a massive defecit of love. I don’t hate myself so much anymore. So now self love has been added, it’s notso much a matter of begging others to throw endless amounts of love into the chasm of my starving soul, but rather being able to participate in the life long work of love.

“It’s easy to assume that you’ve built some rapport

With a someone who only likes you for what you like yourself for

Okay, you be my mirror but remember that there are only a few angles I tend to prefer

I’m only here to serve”

Those first two lines fucking floored me when I first really listened to what they are saying. I learned from quite an early age that all I was good for was my looks. And then sex. So I combined the two to forge an identity that I hoped people would like. An A grade slut, both in my personal life, and professionally. Sexy, easy, available, yours if you want me (please take me I cannot stand myself). Took me a long fucking time to grow out of that. I have never fought as hard against anything and I have come a long way.

“Oh, I was pissing on the flame

Like a child with cash or a king on cocaine

I’ve got the world by the balls

Am I supposed to behave?

Oh, I was dancing 'round the flame

Like a high-wire act with a "who, me?” face

I was living on nothing but water and cake"

Perilously close to oblivion at all times and dangerously self destructive but gosh, wasn’t I good at it? Wasn’t I cute? Didn’t you used to wank to me? I have no idea what kept me together, let alone alive. Natural talent, I suppose. That Aries fight. Against the bored, lonely, suffering person I used to be. Against death, to the death. And death hasn’t won me over yet, seductive bastard that he is.

“What a fraud

What a con

You’re the only

One I love

One I love”

This isn’t about you, baby. It’s about me, Jimmy, and Father John Misty. But then, we are kindred souls. So I suppose it is. A bit.

Part II: Confrontation (A journal entry, written upon entering rehab)

17.4.18

I haven’t been remembering my dreams. They’ve been fading so fast. I got 10 hours of sleep after deciding not to attend the NA meeting and having to walk past it anyway to get to the smoking area. I didn’t want to encroach on an experience I don’t share but what’s the difference? Why would I care for legality? It’s strange being here in a ‘good’ patch. No withdrawals, only craving nicotine. Am I here not to get ‘better’, but ‘even better’? I’m not sure how I feel. A little alien. Just letting myself think and waiting for anything significant. Being here is symbolically significant. I’m here to learn coping skills and relapse prevention, that’s it. It doesn’t have to provide anything deeper or provoke feelings of profundity. It’s basic shit. I’m an alcoholic and I don’t want to go back to problem drinking.

Where is the fear and pain I felt yesterday? What was the purpose of it? Knock out a rehab stay while I don’t have work/uni commitments and hope I fucking learn for when I do. The best I can do is be present. I am scared that I still don’t know exactly what I’m studying towards. I’m probably not as smart as I presume. What is my lot in life going to be? A job I like and a husband I adore? God, spare me. I’m having a crisis of personality. Intensity and extremity are not useful defining characteristics. Yet being a good, switched on, and fairly interesting person doesn’t feel like enough. How can I relate person to person when I see my own character as lacking? If we are all fundamentally valid and complex as individuals this negative self-assessment automatically carries across to others. I am ashamed not by how boring I feel I am, but why this baseless critical judgement feels so important. My amorphous, superficially high standard insults everyone.

Why is suffering interesting? Why is ‘different’ interesting? Why can’t I conceive of the mid-ranges of reality as interesting, am I that lacking in curiosity and imagination? I’m used to being overstimulated. Or pissed. I am not attuned to subtlety. It is harder work to find wonder in the mundane. Such a vain conquest, so incredibly shallow to attempt to make my life interesting using self hatred as a form of performance art. No one is interested in the creative flair with which you can wield that. Being alive and burning despite things is not impressive if you’re purposefully making life hard for yourself. I don’t really know where I sit with that, though. My mental torment created the life I had. It’s not that I didn’t want to get better. I just took too much pride in how much I could relish in how fucked up I was.

The hereness and newness of myself is queer because it is complete but also completely lacking in drama. I don’t know what foot to start on if not shock value. I’m a recovering alcoholic, a reformed self loathing attention seeker. What am I inviting people to see if not a hot mess? A tepid, anxious 27 year old boy. My social stance is defensive. Find my projected self interesting but do not attempt to actually know me. I am too fragile, too sad, too boring. I don’t want these human frailties to be levelled with so I cast them up high, make an overexaggerated display of them. I’m not doing that anymore. Take me as I am, whatever that is, but also don’t because I don’t know what that is and I won’t make any efforts to help you find out either. So it seems like I want to be left alone but I have been alone on my plinth celebrating my vain, personal self loathing for so long I am starved for human connection. I was lying the whole time. I am one of you. It is still embarrassing to admit.

Part III: Resolution (A short story about ego death, written in rehab)

30.4.18

So you arrive on your own doorstep one day, right? You would never come to yourself at a time like this, the you that suffers knows he’s not exactly wanted, but he is desperate. There is nowhere else to go, every safe haven is closed or gone. You’re tired, cold, and soaking wet. It’s pouring because of course it is. A few hours pass and your ego, comfortable inside, decides to take a chance and let you in. You’ve been screaming and pleading for hours. “Let me in, LET ME IN!” You collapse fully clothed in a hot shower while your various self conceptions tut and fuss, bitching about the decision. “Family,” some of them say uncertainly, “That’s what we’re for, right? People say that kind of stuff when they love irredeemable fuckstains, yeah?” They don’t actually know this, and the other parts of your ego are by turns confused and furious. “What the fuck, guys? He’ll be fine, he’s always fine, get him out of here!” “You fucking IDIOTS! WEAK! This is NOT what’s supposed to happen, this is not what we do!”

They’re all running around swearing, aggressively and resentfully caring. Like the first time you ever got drunk by yourself to make yourself feel better before your year 10 half-yearlies. How you remember sitting naked in the shower with your head lolling, parents freaking out. Meanwhile, you are there again. Bewildered. Overwhelmed, barely responsive. But you’re wide awake. Layers and layers of clothes, costumes, identities weighing your body down as the warm water soaks through. Something clicks and you realise it makes no sense to be fully dressed in the shower. As a token act to bring normalcy to the situation, you start to take the layers off. The process of removing them all takes a while, but once it is done you feel as though it happened in the blink of an eye.

“Huh.” You say, looking down at your own body. “Is this what I look like?” It’s a significant action in the symbolic world, taking off your clothes. It never felt like it was before. You didn’t understand the meaning of exposing yourself, of vulnerability. You just did it cos you had a malformed concept of fear. Scary things are good for you, they make you stronger. A seemingly contradictory belief that laying your flaws out on the table prevents people from abusing you for them. Nothing can hurt you when you are made of hurt. It is different completely, however, to reveal yourself to yourself. You’re there naked in the bathroom, looking at yourself as though you’ve never seen yourself before.

Your ego, anxieties, notions of your self that you’ve constructed are all pacing around frantically, fighting with each other about who’s right and what’s the best course of action. None of them ever had a contingency plan for acknowledging the hurt. Confronting the core of who you are. Their very existences are reliant upon dividing the self into these fragments. The elephant in the room of your life is in the fucking bathroom doing god knows what. He’s been in there for hours.

Back to you there. With all the layers removed, you turn on the light. It’s a lot like tripping. What you see in the mirror you know to be yourself, but the image feels so foreign. Stranger still is how separate the amalgamated pile of faces you used to wear looks there in the corner, apart from you. Not, as you believed so deeply, parts of you. They grow irrelevant as you trace your finger over your reflection. “Fuck. Is this who I am?” After a little while you start to think your time in there might be worrying all of the other selves, and they really didn’t want to let you in, so it would only be right to go and let them know you’re okay. You’re not going to cause any trouble. You’re grateful. None of the clothes on the floor are suitable to wear, so “Fuck it,” You think, and walk out. The exhibitionist, the slut, and the hippie were all naked anyway.

The place is empty, dead quiet. For some reason it feels like it has been for a while. You’re confused, are they playing a trick? After wandering around for a while you decide to make a cup of tea and have a cigarette. Make yourself at home, as it were. It’s nice to be out of the storm, relaxing and enjoying your own company. You don’t need the assistance of your ego selves to do that anyway. You are allowing yourself residency in your own mind, this overexposed, brutally hurt self. The hurt doesn’t feel very present though, strangely. You thought yourself to be the suffering person. That’s why they didn’t want you here. The situation leaves you bizarrely unphased. Things that should be scary tend not to be, right? You’re just rolling with it, acting like the place is all yours while the selves are elsewhere.

You can’t quite believe it, both that they actually relented when you were banging the door down, and that you got into a situation so fucked you needed to seek the help of the conscious collective. You usually just communicate via proxies. “I’m here, how weird.” You think. Perfume Genius is playing and the sound quality is fantastic. Walking back into the bathroom to pee, you notice the pile of clothes has vanished. The trippy feeling you had before settles on you again and you look to the mirror. Your eyes widen as you see all your selves, the shades of ego and anxiety, floating behind you, faint as ghosts. You see the Party Girl, the Masochistic Martyr, the Stubborn Whore. Their faces are passive and kind. Something you’d attribute to the relief of death.

You lived through them, they lived as you so you could survive. They panicked when you got here, begging to be let in. Because your arrival signified their exit. With your presence, in your self and reality, false constructs fall away. You are the spirit that persisted, the soul that endured. Their service was for one end, and that was getting you here. Everything they protected you through, all of the lessons they helped you learn are intact, part of you as a whole. You’re left staring at the naked truth of who you are. None of the people you’ve been fought in vain. The end game was always unity.

From the other room you hear the piano player playing “This Must Be The Place” and you think: it’s a miracle to be alive. You exit the bathroom into the rest of your life, hearing someone say “Pleasure to meet you!” It’s a pleasure to meet you, too. You are the resurrection, and you are the light you needed to let in. You could only bring yourself to hate yourself for so long. A spark, a flame, a bang, a phoenix. You see yourself rising in the vast and limitless universe. Within and without, at peace, as one.

#essay #journal #short story #alcoholism #ego death #survival #mental illness #self actualisation #sobriety

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