#i think i’ve had grilled chicken every day of the week so far | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

supersupernaturalimagines · 4 years ago

Text

Messing With Dean (With Cass’s Help)

Pairing - Castiel x Reader

Summary - Dean Winchester has gone too far. After a prank on you, you’re determined to get him back. Thankfully your Angel of a boyfriend is always willing to help you out.

Word Count - 3,160

Warnings - None!

“I’m going to kill him!”

“Are you okay? I heard you stomping downstairs and assumed you were upset.”

You turned to your open doorway to find Cass standing there. Normally the sight of your Angel boyfriend would do wonders in calming you down, but not today. Today is the day that Dean Winchester has gone too far.

Living with Sam and Dean was fine most of the time. You worked well together, got along, but every once in a while, Dean would end up being a little . . . mischievous. Since you were more of the quiet and calm type, you often ended up his target when he got in a pranking mood. He didn’t think you would fight back, but this time . . . This time it was too much.

Crossing your arms over your chest, you let out an annoyed huff. “You know how I keep my socks super organized and matched up because they all have cute characters on them or funky patterns which I know is weird, but it’s one of those things I can control when I can’t control most of the stuff around me -”

Castiel entered your room and placed his hands on your arms and began rubbing them in a soothing motion, stopping your rambling. “Yes,” he said simply.

Your mouth turned down in a pout. “He took one of each pair, and I can’t find them.”

It was a credit to your boyfriend’s understanding that he didn’t laugh. “Would you like me to find them for you? Or make Dean tell you?”

“No,” You replied, sitting down on your bed, still frowning. “That’ll make him think that he won. I don’t want him to win. Not this time.”

“Win?” Cass repeated, sitting down next to you. “Is this a game you two play? It doesn’t seem like you’re enjoying it.”

“It wasn’t before,” You replied, and you bit your lip, thinking. Dean always assumed that you weren’t going to fight back because you never did. You got annoyed, rolled your eyes, and walked away. This time though? You didn’t feel like doing that. No, Dean Winchester didn’t know it, but he had started an all out war. “But I’m going to start enjoying it now.” You replied, a mischievous smirk forming on your lips.

Castiel looked concerned.

____________________

“I’ve got it!” You ran into the room, holding your laptop in the air, an excited smile on your face as you plopped down next to Cass.

“A location on the Werewolf?” Castiel asked.

Your smile fell a bit. “Oh, no, that algorithm is still running. I meant I’ve got the perfect prank to play on Dean.”

He perked up a little at that, wrapping an arm around your shoulders as you snuggled into his side. “May I see what you’re planning?”

You hit play on the video, showing your idea, your excited mood returning as you noticed the smile grow on Castiel’s face.

“That will be very amusing. Do you think he’ll fall for it?” He asked.

You nodded, closing your laptop. “He’s not expecting me to do anything. He thinks I’m too nice for it. So I’m thinking I’ll get the supplies, and once we get the location on the werewolf, we’ll end up going to a restaurant and -” You wiggled your eyebrows, a large grin growing on your face imagining it.

“What do you need?” Castiel asked.

“The glue, everything else I’ve -” The sudden loss of warmth against your side and the now familiar sound of fluttering wings queued you into Castiel’s absence. You let out a sigh, used to this by now, and opened your laptop back up, checking up on the werewolf once more and settling back into the couch while you waited.

He wasn’t gone long, and when he returned, he was carrying a shopping bag that was larger than what he would have needed for some glue. “There were several kinds to choose from. I wasn’t sure which would suit your needs the best.”

Closing your laptop again, you couldn’t help but smile up at the Angel. You could never be grateful enough for him and the way he went out of his way to get you whatever you needed whenever you wanted it. You thought it might be a way he tried to make up for the occasional long times he was gone to Heaven or dealing with Angel business. Or it could just be Castiel. Either way, you were thankful for it. “Clear glue will be fine,” you told him, taking the bag from his hand and putting it down on the ground, “but I’d still like to thank you for the help.” You told him, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“You’re more than welcome.” He replied with a pleased smile, putting his own arms around your waist and holding you close.

“Well . . . I’d like to thank you in another way too.” You told him, biting your bottom lip as you looked up at him.

Castiel’s brow furrowed together in confusion. “Another way?”

You raised your eyebrows at him, giving a subtle nod in the direction of your bedroom.

He looked over to where you were nodding, and then it was almost as if a lightbulb had gone off over his head as a look of realization came over his face. “Oh, oh yes, I would -” His grin returned to his face. “I would enjoy that.”

A giggle left your lips at his words, and you grabbed a hold of his hand, tugging him out the door and to your bedroom, making sure to close the door behind you.

____________________

“I’ve got one chicken fajita, one grilled chicken sandwich, and one boss burger.”

“Yes,” Dean said, rubbing his hands together in excitement as the waitress placed down his large burger in front of him.

“Ah, not so fast,” You stopped him, tossing your hand sanitizer at him before he could take a bite. “Wash your hands first.”

Dean rolled his eyes as he opened it up, missing the glint in yours. “We’re hunting a werewolf, and you’re worried about my hands being clean.”

“Somebody’s got to. The two of you aren’t known for having the best hygiene.” You replied, rolling your eyes at him. Inside you were trying your best to hide your eagerness as he opened the bottle up. It was so hard to keep your eyes off of it so he didn’t get suspicious. If Dean hadn’t been so focused on getting to his burger as fast as possible, he would have noticed the smirk on your lips that you couldn’t control.

“Hey!” Sam said, irritated to be lumped in the same category as Dean when it came to cleanliness.

You flashed him a quick look. “Sorry, Sam, your hygiene is fine.” You remedied before glancing back at Dean, your smirk growing as he spread the mixture all over his fingers.

“What the . . .” The glue covered his hands, sticking together in a gross gooey substance when he moved them apart.

“That’s for my socks.” You said, leaning back in your chair and crossing your arms over your chest with a satisfied smirk, feeling pleased with yourself at succeeding in getting him back.

“You did this?” Dean asked in disbelief, glancing from you to Sam.

Sam shrugged, and your smirk was answer enough.

For one brief second, you thought you saw a proud look flash across his face before it turned mocking. “This is the best you could do? I thought you were smarter than that.”

That wiped the smirk off your face. “Hey, you fell for it!”

But Dean shook his head at you. “You don’t realize what you started kid.” He tried to wipe the glue off on his jeans, but it just made it worse. “I’m gonna -” He pointed a sticky finger to the bathroom.

“Shouldn’t have done that.” Sam said as he took a sip of his drink.

“Why not?” You pouted.

Sam shook his head as he took a sip of his beer. “Let’s hope you don’t wake up tomorrow with itching powder in your clothes.”

. . . Was that a possibility?

_____________________

“Why are you throwing all of your clothes on your bed?”

You turned around and found your boyfriend in the doorway, looking from you to your bed with a confused expression.

Worries pushed aside for the moment, you ran over to him, wrapping your arms around his neck while his wove around your waist. For a few moments you let yourself get wrapped up in his embrace. It had been a couple of weeks since you had seen him, and as much as he told you not to, you always worried about him when he was gone. When he came back, it always made you a little more affectionate than normal, happy to have another day with him alive. Castiel never seemed to mind, and the two of you would sometimes spend hours afterward curled up in bed, exchanging lazy kisses and words of endearment. Something that you couldn’t do now with the amount of clothes on your bed.

The reminder made you pull back, but only enough to where you could look him in the eyes. “I’m afraid that Dean put itching powder in my clothes.”

Castiel’s brow quirked up. “Why would Dean do that?”

“I think I’ve unintentionally entered into a prank war with him.” You replied before biting your lip. “Okay, maybe not unintentionally, I knew that Dean might want to get back at me, but I hoped that he would consider us even. Then Sam told me all about the prank war that he had with Dean one time, and now I think I might be in over my head.” You rambled, and then buried your face in his chest.

“So you think that Dean would put itching powder in your clothes because he did it to Sam before?” Castiel asked after pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your head.

You nodded.

“I don’t think Dean is the type of person to repeat a prank. Especially if he knows that Sam told you about what he had done before. He would know you would be preparing for that.” Castiel assured you.

Thinking about his words, you realized that he was right, and it put you at ease somewhat. Dean wouldn’t be lazy enough to do something he had already done before. Not when it came to pranking. Then you realized the implications of that. “That means I don’t know what he’s going to do though.” You felt your anxiety climbing once more and pulled back enough to look at Castiel. “What if he doesn’t even do anything? And I’m spending the rest of my life waiting for the day that he trades my shampoo with pink hair dye or something?”

Castiel looked contemplative, reaching up to twirl a strand of your hair around his finger. “It would take some getting used to, but I think you would look pretty with pink hair as well.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at that, burying your face in his chest again for a moment and inhaling the scent of him, using it to try and calm yourself down. As nervous as you were for Dean’s retaliation, worrying about it wasn’t going to help you. “You wanna come watch me eat, and tell me about everything Heaven related?” You asked.

“Would you like me to go pick up some takeout for you?” Castiel asked as you took his hand and led him out of your bedroom.

“That’s very sweet of you, but I’m in the mood to cook. Besides, I don’t want you to go anywhere.” You brought his hand up to your lips and pressed a soft kiss there. “I’ve missed you.” You told him.

The soft look on his face at your words and actions made you want to melt into the floor in a puddle. “I have missed you also.” He replied, giving your hand a squeeze.

When you made it into the kitchen, you decided to make some french toast. As you opened the fridge though, your eyes widened. Tucked in the back corner, where Dean often chose to hide his sweets that he didn’t want anyone else to touch, was a package of cadbury eggs.

Those were your weakness, and Dean wouldn’t miss one of them, right? You took one out and unwrapped it with a smile. Castiel was back, and now you had one of your favorite chocolates. Maybe it wasn’t such a bad day after all. “Cass, do you want some chocolate?” You asked him, holding the egg out to him.

“No thank you,” he said, waving the egg away. “I know how much you enjoy those.”

You leaned across the counter to give him a kiss on the cheek before taking a bite of the egg.

Which turned out not to be a cadbury egg.

You ran to the trash can and started spitting out the remains of the real egg, thick and gross with its yolk and white shell that Dean had painted over, into it. Cass was at your side in a moment, holding back your hair, thinking you were sick. “Dean!” You yelled out when you got the last of it out.

“What happened?” Castiel asked you.

Holding out the rest of the egg, you showed it to him before throwing it into the trash can.

“Ah . . . at least it wasn’t itching powder?” He said.

That didn’t comfort you.

____________________

You were willing to admit it now. You were out of your league. Pranking wasn’t your thing. All you wanted to do was get back at him for stealing your socks, and now you were in over your head. As soon as Dean had pranked you back, you realized the constant worry wasn’t worth the small bit of satisfaction you had gotten from pranking him. The problem was, you now had no way to end this.

If you surrendered, Dean would accept it, but the never ending teasing you would get from doing so would almost be as bad as living in the fear of getting pranked at any minute of the day. Another option would be to hit him with a prank so fantastic he would never be able to top it. Needless to say that wasn’t going to happen. The drastic choice would be to move out and run away, but you didn’t think the situation was that dire.

So you were stuck.

“I’m sure you’ll figure something out.” Castiel tried to comfort you, running his fingers through your hair. The soothing motion helped since your anxiety had still been on high alert for the past week or so waiting for another prank from Dean.

“I never should have started this in the first place.” You grumbled into his neck.

“God you two, get a room.” A voice came from the doorway, and you turned your head to find Dean looking grossed out at your cuddling. “Anyway, grub’s here.”

You rolled your eyes, but untangled yourself from Castiel’s arms. Dean wasn’t a big fan of PDA. It wasn’t that he didn’t approve of you and Cass, in fact he was thankful it happened so he didn’t have to ‘watch the two of you make lovesick eyes at each other anymore’. He just didn’t want to see it.

That’s when the idea struck you.

Maybe if you made Dean uncomfortable enough, you could bring this little war to an end. The question was, how to do it without seeming as if it was what you had plotted all along?

The opportunity presented itself while you were eating. You had gotten to the dessert portion of the evening, and you had convinced Castiel to eat the rest of your ice cream that you couldn’t finish so it wouldn’t go to waste. He didn’t need to eat, but sometimes he would for your sake if you had leftovers or wanted him to try something you cooked. This time as he ate your ice cream, he managed to get some on his upper lip, and you knew it was your chance.

“Cass,” you said with what might have been an overtly flirty giggle. “You got ice cream on your lip.”

“Oh,” Castiel, oblivious of course, reached over to grab a napkin, but you stopped his hand before he could.

Keeping your eyes locked on Cass so Dean didn’t suspect what you were doing, you threw your leg over his hip, settling into his lap, and grabbed the back of Cass’s head, meeting his lips in a soft kiss.

“At the dinner table, really?” You heard Dean speak up.

You ignored him, sliding your tongue across Castiel’s top lip to lick away the ice cream. Castiel, having no idea what was going on, was happy to accept your kiss, even letting out a little grunt as your fingers tugged on his hair.

“Oh God, that’s gross.” Dean continued.

At this point though, you had forgotten about making him uncomfortable all together and were invested in your kiss with Castiel. No matter how many times you kissed him, his lips were soft and seemed to mold with yours in the best way. It was always sparks and always warm. His kisses made you want to sing and melt into his arms until you could no longer tell where he ended and you began. It was so easy to get lost in them. It was why you didn’t even notice Dean’s comments until there was a loud clatter that scared the both of you apart. The two of you turned and found Dean with a big book in his hands, staring at the both of you with a disgusted expression.

“All right, you win. Just promise no more making out in my presence.” He said, pointing the book at you.

“And you’ll give me my socks back?” You asked, turning in Castiel’s lap to face him.

Dean rolled his eyes. “I’ll give your damn socks back.”

You stuck your hand out with a big smile. “Deal.”

Dean shook his head, and for a brief moment, you could’ve sworn he looked proud as he shook your hand. “Now get off the poor guy’s lap before he gets a boner at the dinner table.”

Castiel cleared his throat, and you turned back to see a faint flush of pink on his cheeks. “I believe it is too late for that.”

You had to bite your lip to keep from laughing as Dean looked like he was about to throw up. “C’mon Cass, I’ll take care of that for you.” You said with a wink, as you took his hand and pulled him up.

“You two are gross!” Dean called after the two of you.

“You’re just jealous you’re not getting any!” You yelled back at him, waiting until you two were in the hallway before pulling Castiel against you with a pleased smile. “Thanks for the help.”

Castiel was smiling as well, “anytime.” He replied.

#castiel #castiel x reader #castiel x you #supernatural imagine #castiel fanfiction

131 notes · View notes

shakespeareanwannabe · 4 years ago

Text

Drowning

Santiago Pope Garcia x F!OC/Santiago ‘Pope’ Garcia x Rebecca Cooke

Summary: Santiago follows through with his escape plan, only to find that his freedom comes with a heavy price.

Warnings: Drinking/Alcohol Consumption, Swearing, Benny being Benny, references to war time injuries, references to Anxiety if you squint, ghosting, nightmares, crying

A/N: Hey y’all. Sorry it’s been a while. Some stuff came up, but I was inspired to write this chapter anyway! Here’s chapter 6. Please enjoy!

**********

Santiago Garcia was one of the best of the best. One of the top ranked soldiers in the US Military. Delta Force, Special Operations…his team was the one you called when things got bad. And things often got bad.

Tom ‘Redfly’ Davis oversaw the team. Laser focused in the field and a brilliant tactician who always seemed to be able to get his team out of tight spots, Redfly saw Delta Force through multiple missions, as well as two tours of Afghanistan and Iraq.

Santiago ‘Pope’ Garcia was his right-hand man, his second in command. Where Redfly focused on the minor details, Pope was able to see the big picture. Combined, their abilities to plan and execute earned them the respect and admiration of their team.

William ‘Ironhead’ Miller was third in command. His cool head and philosophical manner ensured cohesion in the group of macho men. While the team was busy fighting the enemy, Will was busy making sure there was no fighting amongst the team.

Francisco ‘Catfish’ Morales was the pilot. The most intelligent of the bunch, he was often overlooked when it came to lauding praises, even if Pope would always claim that it was because of Frankie’s skillful maneuvering and calculating nature that they made it back in one piece.

Benjamin ‘Benny’ Miller was the youngest of the team, the most hotheaded, and the most emotionally vulnerable. Added to the team after their original fifth member was killed in action, Ironhead automatically took it upon himself to protect his baby brother, while the rest of the team protected Ironhead.

Together, they were the most successful, most ruthless, most cunning team to ever wear the United States flag on their shoulder. Ironhead, Catfish, and Benny trusted their fearless leaders to see them through any mission, no matter how bleak. Where they led, the team followed, no questions asked. Well, on the battlefield, that is…

“You fucking what!?!” Frankie exclaimed angrily while Benny and Will stared at him in astonishment.

Santi felt himself shrink. While he knew that his plan of action wasn’t the best, he didn’t know what else to do.

“I can’t drag her into all my bullshit, ‘Fish,” Santi sighed, dragging a hand down his face before chugging from his nearly-empty beer bottle.

“So, you thought that ghosting her was the best thing to do?” Benny exclaimed, leaning around his brother to get a good view of his former lieutenant. “Are you fucking stupid, Pope?”

“Ay, watch it, kid!” Santi grumbled. “You’ve seen her! She’s fucking perfect. I’m not ruining her. No way, man.” Santi chose to ignore Frankie’s mumbling in their shared mother tongue and cast his fishing line out into the lake once more.

It had been two weeks since the wedding, 13 days since the last time he saw Rebecca, and it was killing him, even if he knew it was for the best. So, when Will had offered up his fishing cabin in the woods for a boys weekend, he had jumped at the chance to get out of that big empty house, away from the clinic that he was slinking around under Charlie’s hateful glare, and far enough away from Bex’s building that he wasn’t tempted to just get up and drive there and beg for her forgiveness. It would be good for him. Clear his head. Get her out of his system, even if he was waking up every morning hard as a rock with thoughts of her smile and her softness and her heart at the forefront of his mind.

“Well, that fucking explains why Charlie went from crying over your speech at the wedding to asking me if I’d be okay burying your body in the backyard,” Frankie finally spoke in English.

Santi winced. After a week of actively ignoring his phone whenever it lit up with Rebecca’s name and smiling face, he supposed that Bex had asked Charlie what was up. And, since Charlie knew him well enough to know what nothing was actively wrong, he’d spent the last several of his physio appointments having to shield himself from his friend’s icy glare.

“What are you doing, man?” Will sat back with a sigh. “She’s the best you’re ever gonna get. You know that right?”

Santi clenched his fist around his fishing rod. “You think I don’t know that? She’s fucking perfect! Sweet and kind and unselfish and loving and sexy as all fuck! Who wouldn’t want that?”

“So, you’re either really fucking stupid or really fucking scared…” Benny muttered, leaning back to fetch another beer.

Santi felt something inside him burst. He was doing what was best for her, even if nobody in his life seemed to agree.

“Fuck this.” He threw his fishing rod to the ground and stood up. “I don’t have to deal with this shit. I’m going home.”

Frankie slowly stood up next to him with a few crackles and pops of his joints. “I drove you, dipshit. And you drank an entire six pack on your own. I’ll take you home.”

Frankie ambled over to give his goodbyes to Will and Benny while Santi stood with his arms crossed, staring out into the distance. He had thought Frankie and Will would understand. Frankie, who had to fight tooth and nail to keep the woman he loved after getting his license suspended. And Will, whose fiancée had left him six weeks before the wedding day, claiming the war had changed him and that he wasn’t the same man she fell in love with. Benny, who had loved more people than he could count, had never experienced that kind of love and loss before, and Santi hoped he never did. Everyone around them got sucked into their bullshit, and he wouldn’t let that happen to the most wonderful woman he had ever met.

“Hey,” Santi startled when a warm, gentle hand landed on his shoulder. He turned to meet Will’s warm gaze and placating smile. “We just want you to be happy, man.”

Santi sighed and nodded slowly. “Yeah, Will…I know, but—”

“But nothing, man,” Will interrupted gently, pulling him into a one-armed hug. “She makes you happier than I’ve ever seen you, Santi. Don’t lose that, or you’ll spend your life regretting it.”

Santi watched him walk away as Frankie came up beside him and started ushering him towards the truck.

**********

The two-hour drive home was longer than expected due to traffic on the highway, but the length was exasperated by the silence that was dragging out between the two men. Unlike the drive, the silence was atypical. Santi, who had grown accustomed to Frankie’s quiet calmness, usually filled the silence with stories to get Frankie talking or laughing. Now, the tension between the two was palpable, and Santi wasn’t about to try to break it when he had so much on his mind.

After almost three hours in the car together, Frankie pulled into Santi’s driveway and killed the engine.

Santi sighed, both in sadness and relief, and went to open the door. “Thanks,” he mumbled, hand resting on the handle and the door partially open.

“Listen, man…” Santi turned slightly to see Frankie had removed his cap and was rubbing at his forehead. “If she doesn’t make you happy, that’s fine. No point in making yourself miserable trying to drag out a relationship that just ain’t gonna work. But if that’s why you’re doing this, or if you’re doing it because of some bullshit protector instinct, then why are you so miserable? If she makes you happy but you’re worried about infecting her with your shit, then protect her from that by staying close and working hard.”

“I…” Santi swallowed. “I don’t want to hurt her, man.” He got out of the truck and stood next to the open door. “I won’t hurt her.”

Frankie fixed him with a glare, and Santi saw a flash of the old Frankie for a moment. “And what exactly are you doing right now, cabrón?”

Santi let the door swing closed as Frankie peeled out of his driveway and down the road.

**********

It took another week for Santiago to get his act together. The day Frankie dropped him off, he spent in his backyard, grilling and listening to music. If things were normal, it would be the day the whole gang got together at Frankie’s for food and fun and laughs, but things weren’t normal, so he settled in for some solo grilled chicken and some alone time. He woke up with nightmares around midnight, and when he woke up again around 2 a.m., he moved into the living room and resigned himself to crappy early morning TV until the sun came up.

The next day, on a whim, he started drafting a proposal for a private security company. He still had enough money from selling his weapons collection in Colombia to put together a decent business proposal, and it was better than sitting on his ass drinking all day, so he put his famed planning skills to work. Got Your Six Security would provide state of the art security systems as well as armed guards for those who desired them. The fees would be reasonable, they would cater to both private homes and public settings, and, best of all, they would only employ military or former military personnel. Luckily, Santi had kept in contact with a couple of the surveillance techs from his time overseas, and he knew that a small crew of them had been working on a state-of-the-art closed circuit security system and were looking to market it to high end customers. They had already agreed to work with him, he only needed to get a business plan and a small loan to get it up and running.

The day after that, he had a meeting with the bank, who had met his proposal with enthusiasm. (It helped that it was a company employing veterans, run by a veteran, who already had some capital to put up upfront.) All they asked was that he find his first customer before they signed off on the loan.

So, the following Monday, he straightened his suit and tie and headed into the last place he wanted to be: the art museum where Rebecca worked. It was the only business that had availability as soon as possible, they were willing to pay top dollar, and they seemed fairly desperate.

He met with two of the higher ups of the museum, Douchebag Derek’s mom and the owner of the building, and soon found out why they were so desperate.

“One of our paintings got stolen two nights ago,” Derek’s mom sighed. “We don’t know how, or why, but somebody got in, stole one of the Blair’s, and walked out with it. Our security guard claims that he didn’t hear anything, but the police are looking into it.”

“The point is,” Mr. Carlisle butted in. “We need something more high-tech than a retiree aged security guard. We need something that can send an alarm to the police if someone does get in, but also a few highly trained guards to watch the museum at night, in case someone does get in and the police are too slow. It seems to me that a military grade security system and some highly trained former soldiers are the perfect thing to protect the priceless works of art we house here at this institution.”

“Was anyone in the building when the painting was stolen?” The words escaped his mouth before he could even think. “I mean, besides the security guard.”

“No, thank god,” Mr. Carlisle replied. “Jerry, the security guard, says he saw out the last employee in the building before locking the door.”

“I’m just happy that nobody got hurt,” Derek’s mom simpered, and Santi caught a glimpse of her son’s douchebaggery in her voice.

“We’d be happy to help,” Santi smiled once he regained control of his voice, his shoulders relaxing at the news that Jerry had been alone in the building. “We’ll just need 50% of the cost of the alarm system up front before installation, then we can discuss how many guards you want on premises during the day and at night. Once we’ve got a number, we can go through the applicants together and we can find the ones who best suit your needs.”

It was after they dotted the i’s and crossed the t’s and Santi had received a firm handshake from Mr. Carlisle that it happened.

He was exiting Mr. Carlisle’s office, still facing the occupants of the room as he thanked them for their patronage, when he turned and bumped into something hard but soft and comforting and, even worse, familiar.

“Oof!”

A chill ran down his spine at the sound, the same sound she had made when he spanked her ass that morning.

“Shit, I’m…I’m, uh, I’m sorry.” Rebecca stilled in her crouched position, one hand on one of the loose sheets of paper he had knocked out of her arms. “Uh…here, let me help.”

He started to lower to the ground, wincing at his knees crackling, when she snatched up the paper he was reaching for and stood up. “Don’t bother.”

Already crouching, he let his head hang. He didn’t know how he expected their first encounter to go, but it certainly wasn’t that.

**********

A flash…a painful scream…his legs caught in quicksand…red pooling on the pristine white marble floors…the dull thud of her body dropping…the faceless thief escaping into the edges of his vision…cradling her lifeless body…

Santiago sat bolt up in bed, his heart racing and his chest heaving, his curls drooping onto his forehead with accumulated sweat.

Three nights of the same dream. Three nights of not being able to save her from the art thief. Three nights of sitting in bed, trembling while staring at her picture on his phone, his thumb hovering over the ‘Call’ button but always unable to take that final step.

First, she had bewitched him. Now, she was haunting him. One short, angry interaction was enough to bring her to the forefront of his mind (not that she was ever far from there), and now he couldn’t sleep.

Maybe Frankie was right. Doing the right thing shouldn’t make him this miserable. His heart shouldn’t ache when he thinks of her, he shouldn’t be so depressed when he sees couples together, and he really shouldn’t be dreaming about her death and waking up in tears.

He didn’t think. About any of it. Instead, he acted on instinct, throwing on a pair of threadbare sweatpants and a white vest and collecting his wallet and keys before hopping into his truck and driving the path he knew by heart.

**********

Bang Bang Bang!

Rebecca’s first instinct was to shout at whoever was knocking on her door at three a.m. to fuck off or she would call the cops. Her second instinct was to grab the baseball bat in her front closet and scare the intruder off herself.

She blamed the pint of Cherry Garcia (flavor chosen ironically, of course) and the three glasses of red wine she had drank before falling asleep on the couch for her poor decision-making skills as she stumbled off the couch and grabbed the bat.

“What the fu—”

“Holy shi—”

Santiago ducked away from the door, hands out in front of him as if to calm a wild animal.

“Bex! It’s me, Jesus Christ!”

She huffed. “Yeah, and? After the shit you’ve pulled, being met with a bat is the least of your concerns.” She rubbed her eyes. “What the hell do you want, Santiago?”

He winced at the full name. “C…Can we talk?”

She rolled her eyes and crossed her arms, bat hanging loosely between her fingers. “You’ve had three weeks to talk to me, asshole. What the fuck could you possibly have to say to me?”

Santi turned to look down the hall, wincing and apologizing as one of her neighbours shot him a dirty look. “Can we talk inside? Please? If you don’t like what I have to say, you can kick me out or call the cops. I really wouldn’t blame you. Just…please?”

Rebecca rolled her eyes, poking her head out. “Sorry, Mr. Chen. Tell Cindy that it’s the asshole boyfriend come to grovel.”

The man nodded knowingly and retreated into his apartment.

“I deserve that,” he mumbled, looking at her pleadingly.

Rebecca considered him for a moment. “You look like shit.”

“And I feel even worse. Baby, I…”

Rebecca cut him off. “If you seriously want to do this right now, I’m gonna need more wine.”

She turned her back on him and retreated into the apartment, leaving the door wide open. Santiago followed her after a beat, making sure the door was locked tight behind him.

“Baby, I—”

Bex held up a finger, pouring herself a large glass of red wine and sitting as far away from him as possible, draping a grey throw blanket over her lap before fixing him with a glare.

He met her eyes and felt himself deflate. “Fuck,” he groaned, raking his fingers through his hair. “I had it all planned out, every word I was going to say to you, and now I’m lookin’ at you and it’s all…” He made an exploding motion with his hands. “Poof. Gone.”

Rebecca burrowed further into her blanket. “Well, try. Because from where I’m sitting, you’re the one who needs to do the talking here. I’ve done my talking. On the half-dozen voicemails I left on your phone, in the dozens of texts I sent you, and in the email I wrote because I was panicking at the thought that you had gotten into some terrible accident and that was why you weren’t responding anymore. Because that is the only reason I could think of that you would suddenly stop talking to me.”

“I know. I know, you’re absolutely right. I fucked up in a major way, and I am so sorry. I know I messed up, but I need you to know that I never meant to hurt you.” Rebecca scoffed. “I’m serious, honey. In my own backwards as fuck way, I thought I was protecting you.”

“From what?” she asked angrily.

Santi felt something snap inside of him. “From me! From this forty-year-old fuck up sitting in front of you! Because I’m not a good man! Because I was shooting people and detonating bombs when you were still in grade school! Because I’ve killed people, good people…innocent people. Because my life is a mile-wide shit stain, and you don’t deserve to deal with that. Because…” Santi took a raggedy breath. “Because when I look at you, I see everything good about the world. And I know I’ve got blood and death on my hands, and I couldn’t live with myself if I let any of that effect you in any way.”

“Don’t you think that’s my choice?” she countered in a cold voice. “Don’t you think I should get to decide who deserves to be in my life? I might be a hell of a lot younger than you, Santiago, but my life hasn’t been all rainbows and unicorns. I know my worth. I know who belongs in my life. Not my narcissistic mother, who used my accident for sympathy from whoever she could get it from. Not my best friend from high school, who managed to turn everything into a fucking competition and only got bitchy when she ‘lost’. Not Douchebag Derek or fucking College Boyfriend Ben. And like it or not, I chose you. You with the bad knees and the greying hair and the blood and shit on your hands. God help me, but I chose you.” She chugged the rest of her wine, placing the glass harshly down on the coffee table.

“I know, sweetheart. God, you’re so fucking amazing, you know that?” he blinked back tears in his eyes. He had promised himself that he wouldn’t get emotional, that he would lay the facts out for her, but just being in her presence screamed safety to him and he could feel everything he had pushed down rising to the surface. “Y…you’re the best thing that ever happened to me, okay? And I know that’s a shitty, corny line, but it’s the truth. When I met you…I was in a bad place. My life had been one shit storm after another, and I thought coming home would fix that. Being around Frankie and Charlie, getting to bond with Mateo, having a home of my own for the first time…I was doing better. And then you crashed into my life, and all of a sudden everything felt good again. Like…the sun was shining on me but all of a sudden I could actually feel it and, for the first time, I wasn’t afraid of getting burned. You turned my whole plan upside down, and I was actually okay with it.” He chuckled, swiping at his cheeks as the first few tears started to fall. “I thought I could live in your orbit and just circle around you, not hurting you or effecting you in any way. But then…” he smiled softly. “Christ, that morning…Fuck, I realized that I was in so deep. Way deeper than I ever thought I would get. I was honestly, genuinely happy for the first time in years, and it was all because of you. And you were smiling at me all soft, and I realized something. I realized that living with you, spending the rest of my life with you, was something I could easily do and desperately wanted. And that scared the shit out of me. Because guys like me don’t get the happy ending. The credits start to roll just as we start dealing with the aftermath of whatever shitshow we just lived through, so that the audience doesn’t have to watch everything fall apart again. I…I couldn’t put you through that. Not when you’ve already got all your own stuff to deal with. Adding my own just felt selfish. And I know that’s a cop out, but it’s the truth. I honest to god just wanted to protect you.”

Rebecca’s gaze softened as her voice enveloped him. “So, why now? Why come to me now, if you’re so set on protecting me?”

He met her gaze. “The break in. At the museum. I-if you had been there, if you had gotten hurt…I don’t think I would’ve been able to handle it. That, plus some of Frankie’s patented wise wisdom, woke me up to what an idiot I’ve been. If I want to protect you, I’ve got to do it by being with you, and god baby, that’s all I want. And I know I fucked up. I basically did the same jackass thing that your college boyfriend did, only ten times worse because I promised I wouldn’t. I know I don’t deserve you, but I swear to god, baby, if you let me back into your life, I will work with you. I won’t keep anything from you, and I’ll always be honest with you, and when I try to protect you, I’ll do it by standing by your side and letting you know that I’m here. Even…” he gulped painfully. “Even if it’s just as a friend.”

Rebecca considered him carefully as Santi waited on bated breath. Finally, she spoke. “You really hurt me, Santi.”

He nodded, clenching his eyes shut. “I know. I know, baby, and I am so, so sorry.”

“Everything I was scared of, happened. I let you in, and you made me fall in love with you, then you left. You fucked me then fucked off. And you didn’t even have the decency to tell me why. I agonized for weeks over what I could have possibly done wrong.”

“No, baby,” he took a chance and shifted to sit next to her, gently cradling her hand in his. “No, you didn’t do anything wrong. This is all on me, okay?”

She played with his fingers, rough and callused from his time handling firearms. “It is,” she nodded. “It is all on you…but when I ran into you at the museum, I felt like I could breathe for the first time in weeks. I wanted to be angry at you, but I just felt sad because…because I wanted you to do some stupid, corny, romcom level bullshit like fall to your knees and beg for my forgiveness or sweep me up into your arms and say that you would never let me go again.”

Santiago cupped her cheek, carefully brushing away the stray tear meandering over her cheekbone. “What are you saying?” he asked, trying desperately to keep the hope from his voice.

She sighed. “It means…that I’m too tired to deal with this right now.” She stood, not releasing his hand. “C’mon. You can sleep here tonight, and we can figure this out in the morning.”

He stood hesitantly. “Are you sure? I can sleep here on the couch?” He eyed the leather distastefully. “Or I can go sleep in my truck. I…I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

She was already shaking her head. “No, then I’ll just feel guilty. That couch is not comfortable and your truck with play hell with your neck. You can stay in my bed. Just…don’t worry about it.”

She padded silently into her room, tugging him behind her. Swiftly, she tugged down the meticulously straightened sheets and slid into her side of the bed, Santiago following after a short pause.

He laid there for what felt like hours, staring up at the ceiling, thanking god that he was there with the woman he loved and praying for a chance to make things right.

For the first time in forever, his prayers seemed to be answered quickly.

“I can hear you thinking,” Rebecca mumbled as she rolled over and placed her head on his chest. “Stop thinking, Santi. We can figure out everything in the morning.”

He carefully wrapped his arms around her and buried his nose in her hair, eyes drifting closed to send him into the deepest sleep he’d had in a month.

**********

He awoke the same way he’d fallen asleep, wrapped around Rebecca like he was afraid that, should he let go even an inch, she’d disappear.

He pulled back a fraction of an inch to gaze at her peaceful face before pressing a soft kiss to her forehead.

She released a soft, sleepy mewl before her eyes blinked open.

She smiled softly at him. “Hey…”

The words poured out of him before he could even think. “Move in with me.”

She crinkled her brow. “What?”

He caught her hand and brought it up to his mouth, kissing her palm. “I love you. And I want to prove to you that I’m in this for the long haul. You’re it for me, Rebecca. So, move in with me.”

Her sleepy eyes took him in for a moment, and Santi’s breath caught in his chest. But before he could backtrack or explain further, he felt his heart stop.

“Yeah. Yeah, okay.”

**********

Tags list (open): @darksideofclarke, @writefightandflightclub, @rae-rae-patcha, @himbopoes, @sophoclese, @phoenixhalliwell, @buckstaposition, @who-talks-first, @hkmultifandom, @youhavereachedtheendofpie

#santiago pope garcia x oc #santiago pope garcia x rebecca cooke #triple frontier fanfic #not another fairytale ending fic #santiago pope garcia #frankie catfish morales #Oscar Issac #Pedro Pascal

32 notes · View notes

sunflowerstache · 5 years ago

Text

Falling pt.2

What do you do when the person you pictured your entire life with, suddenly seems to have fallen out of love with you?

Word count: 3.2k A/N: Hi y'all! We’re back with part 2 AND I'm really happy and excited with this piece! I can’t wait to hear what you think and I just really hope you enjoy! It’s not as action packed, but it is nearly as emotional... and yes, there will be a part 3(:

The beige walls in front of you had always brought you a sense of comfort. It wasn’t because of the trees hiding the inside from any prying eyes, or the welcoming, bright blue door, or even the best chicken avocado blt wrap you’d ever had. It was the simple idea of spending time with the love of your life within the four walls. The four walls that held too many memories count; the release date of Harry’s first album, when you told him about the job at Gucci you’d accepted, Bella explaining what she learned at school, plans for future photoshoots, and talks of the future. It was the kind of place that gave you the chance to experience normality - or the closest you’d ever come to it again. Inside the Beachwood Cafe, you got to just be the Styles family, not the Styles family.

But were you even that same family anymore?

How could you consider yourself the same when things had gone so horribly south since the last time you’d stepped through the door? When you hadn’t seen Harry in five days and that idea alone didn’t make you feel sick. Not once since you first met him, were you okay with being so far from him for more than a day. You always felt your body had a magnetic pull towards him and the second you seperated, it knew something was wrong. But not this time. The second you walked out of your front door, you didn’t feel that pull, that need to go back in and be near him. It was like the invisible string pulling the two of you closer together had been cut the second you saw that magazine cover.

However, you didn’t just have yourself to think of. Long gone were the days that you could stay cuddled in bed all day and wallow in self pity, eating tubs of ice cream, and thinking about all the ways Harry had hurt you. Because the little hands on either side of your face every morning didn’t know what was going on. She didn’t know that the entire world was speculating if you and her father had split up, or that daddy wasn’t actually away for work. All she knew was that the two of you were having a girls vacation at Auntie Steph’s and she missed her dad.

“You can’t avoid him forever, babe.” It was late one night when Steph spoke up, the two of you watching your second film of the night, coated in blankets and a bowl of popcorn nestled between you.

“Steph -”

“You can’t and you know I’m right. You heard what Jeff -”

“Steph I don’t care. I can’t go and sit with him and pretend that he didn’t sit back and just accept that he slept with someone.”

Obviously you knew she was right, there was no way you could stay at her house forever and simply never see him again. Not only was it not logistical - considering your job and your shared daughter - but emotionally you weren’t strong enough for that. Before he was your other half, he was your best friend. He was someone who was always in your corner, ready to give you the pep talk you needed or make a stupid joke to make you laugh. After everything you’d been through, and as hurt as you were,, you knew that you couldn’t cut him out of your life completely.

“I’m not telling you to accept anything, Y/N. I’m telling you that you need to hear what he has to say, and you need to bring your daughter to see her father. What you do after that if up to you, and you know I’ll back you up whatever you decide to do.”

Cher Horowtiz had begun her debate on refugees while you listened to Steph talk some sense into you. Five days was the longest you’d spent apart since becoming a couple five years ago, and you knew in order to either move past this or move past him, you needed to see him.

“So what, I just ask him to meet up for lunch? Like we’re sixteen year olds going on a first date?”

“No, you ask him to meet up for lunch like you’re twenty five year olds who have a lot to discuss.”

Having only sent the message a few hours prior to when you wanted to meet with him,you were a bit surprised that Harry had immediately agreed to lunch. He was right in the middle of creating his second album and the hours of free time he had could almost be counted on one hand, so getting a response only seconds after initially asking was a bit of a shock to you.

Then again, you shouldn’t have been surprised; Harry was never one to put work over family. From day one, he made it extremely clear that he would drop everything if someone he cared about needed him. And you finally responding to him after so long, on top of saying his daughter needed him, was something you should have known would take precedence over whatever he had planned for the day.

“And I have to give him my drawing! You have it right mumma?” Bella’s sweet voice sounded over the bell above the door as you walked into the cafe. She had picked her own outfit to see Harry; a pair of dungarees and a white shirt, her hair tied up in two cute little space buns so that it wouldn’t get in her face all morning.

“Of course I do, love. He’s going to love it.”

There was no guessing as to where Harry would be waiting for the two of you, because it was the same table you’d been sitting at for years. Just to the left of the service counter, was a smaller, more private room filled with tables. It was separated by a large wooden entryway which opened up into the bright yellow room you’d grown to adore. And as soon as you shut the front door, there was no trouble finding him. His head was upright, clear he had snapped it up the moment he heard the bell ring, almost indicating that he had been there for some time and had done the same with everyone who entered before you, and he stared right at you.

“Daddy!” it was a soft shout, her being well aware of not drawing lots of attention to your family, and Bella quickly let go of your hand so she could run towards her father.

In an instant, Harry was at his sliding off of the bench and bending down so she could run right into his open arms. His stood in stark contrast to the yellow wall; a black bottom up and cream colored trousers adorned his body; a look that he had recently grown to love. It was a look that had the fans making comments that left the two of you in hysterics, but also leading them to recreate in their own fashion sense. And it was a look that he was happy and comfortable in, so you enjoyed it.

“Hello little love! I’ve missed you!” you heard him coo into the side of her head once you joined the pair. The room was oddly empty, leaving the three of you to have some sort of privacy while in the bustling business on a Monday afternoon.

“Missed you too, daddy! How was work?!”

The question caught the two of you off guard. Logically, you knew Harry had to have known you told Bella some sort of cover up as to why he wasn’t around, but the look in his eye informed you that he hadn’t even thought about it. His body had stiffened and eyes shot up to meet yours immediately, heartbreak seeping through his lashes.

“It was great, sweetheart.” he replied, pulling back so that he could pick her up. “But never as much fun as being with you.”

“Good. I don’t like when you leave, daddy.”

You swore, it was like the universe was out to make this lunch as painful for you as possible. There was no other reason for why today was the day your daughter decided to be the sappiest version of herself, or why Harry very clearly had tears in his eyes that weren’t noticeable by anyone but yourself.

“I don’t like it either. But doesn’t it make being together so much better?” his voice was thick, and if you had to hear one more second of it, you were going to explode into a puddle of your own tears.

“How about we get some food, huh?” you cleared you throat, earning a concerned look from Harry. “Weren’t you just complaining to me in the car that you feel like you haven’t eaten in six years?” trying to make jokes with Bella to avoid having to talk to Harry wasn’t something you were proud of, but you just needed a few more minutes before you could talk with him like everything was fine. At least until Bella wasn’t paying attention.

“Six years? My god, we need to get some food in that belly then, huh?” Harry feigned shock as you sat down, his arms moving Bella to let him bring her torso up to his face, his cheeks expanding with air so that he could blow onto her belly.

“Daddy!”

“You’re going to vanish with no food! My baby’s starving, we need a grilled cheese stat or she’s going to disappear!”

The two of them together was like watching the sunrise; beautiful and warm. The bond that they shared was stronger than anything you could have ever expected, and hearing them giggle with one another was infectious, a smile spreading to your lips before you could even realize what was happening. But you couldn’t help it. They had so much love shared between them that it made every other problem in the world seem so insignificant.

“How’s Steph?” this time, his attention was pointed at you. The green in his eyes seemed to be glowing in the rays of sun that shined through the window. But that’s where the brightness ended. Unlike the last time you saw him, he had bags under his eyes and his forehead was home to the red bumps you hadn’t seen litter his skin in years. Clearly, this was not what the two of you wanted or needed to talk about, but getting past the awkward initial conversations and making the day comfortable for Bella was the first and foremost.

“She’s good. She has a meeting with some people in Hollywood next week, so she’s pretty excited to start expanding again.”

“Wow, good for her. She stopped by Jeff’s the other day, was having dinner with Cam I think, but she looked good.”

“Oh I - I didn’t know they were - well I should have figured though when she came back with Il Fornaio leftovers.”

“I don’t think it’s anything serious, but they’re funny. Both of ‘em are the weirdest people I’ve ever met so…”

As always, Steph had given you advice that you didn’t instantly regret, and you made a mental note to thank her once you got back to her house. Whether it was because of your mutual need to make sure Bella was none the wiser to what was really happening behind closed or how much you had grown to pretend nothing was wrong, lunch went perfectly. For hours, the three of you sat in the yellow room and enjoyed time as a family. You laughed at the nonsense Bella was spitting, reminiscing on how the last time you were seated at that exact table, you were getting ready to head to New York for the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, as well as listening to Harry talk about what kinds of cities he would like to go to on his next tour - whenever he finished his new album. But just as you learned in the recent days, some things that are so unbelievably good, inevitably have their downfall.

“‘M tired, mumma.” Bella had managed to leave Harry’s iron grip after everyone finished eating, and found her spot in your arms; her arms wrapped about your neck while she complained into the soft spot where your shoulders and neck met. Because of your unplanned lunch, she missed her nap for the day, so it was a ticking time bomb until it caught up with her and she either passed out in your arms or had a complete meltdown inside the quiet cafe.

“I know, B. Gonna go back so you can have a cuddle with Mr. Jeff, yeah?”

“Mhm. And daddy will come too, right?”

With her head tucked and hidden in your shoulder, neither you or Harry worried about containing your looks of worry at her comment. Harry because he didn’t know where the situation stood and you because you knew she’d wake up without her dad there.

“Daddy’s really busy, love, so he has to go back to work. But he’ll be back soon.”

Realization spread across Harry’s face at your words, understanding what the meaning behind them truly was, and his gaze fell to where his hands held an empty coffee mug. It seemed that the two of you would make it the entire lunch without bringing dirty laundry up, but now that Bella was fully asleep in your lap, there was nothing holding you back. It was time to have the conversation you so deeply wanted to avoid.

“Harry -”

“I didn’t sleep with her.”

Just as you did some nights ago, he spit out the one thing that was plaguing his mind, unable to hold back the information he was dying to tell you. But if he was going to replay the night that started all of this, you would do the same. So, just as had made no shocked movements at your accusation, you didn’t act shocked at his admittance. Because you weren’t.

“Jeff has videos of me spending the night with him and Glenne. Alone.”

In fact, you knew he was going to tell you exactly that. But hearing it come from his mouth gave you some sense of relief. Because as much as you appreciated hearing it earlier, nothing could compare to hearing it from Harry directly.

“I know.”

“Y/N I swear I can show yo- you know?”

You had to admit, seeing the look of shock cross his face was something you didn’t know you needed. His eyebrows furrowed which caused his eyes to squint, and he simply stared at you, waiting for an answer. But you didn’t immediately do so, instead, you rubbed your hand over Bella’s back in attempt to keep her asleep despite your wild heartbeat.

“Jeff sent them to me a few days ago.”

“A few - a few days ago?” This was one of the reasons you had thought about having this meeting in private; the tone of his voice started to go up at your confession, which you knew would happen. He was someone who couldn’t contain himself when his emotions got the best of him. “And you didn’t think to tell me? You just let me think everything was crumbling while you knew the truth?”

You didn’t have to tell him what you were thinking, because the second he said those words, you knew he knew. That was almost exactly what you had accused him of days ago. Asked him how he could let you think your relationship was one way, when in reality, it was something completely different.

“I didn’t not tell you to spite you, Harry. I didn’t do it to make you feel the same way I did, because we aren’t sixteen and this isn’t just some fling I don’t care about ending.” you worked so hard the entire day to not show the emotions you had bubbling around inside of you. But just as every other time you’d been around Harry, there was no hiding them. He brought out the vulnerable side of you, and the tears couldn’t be kept at bay. “I love you so much, Harry. I don’t think I’ve ever cared about someone the way I do about you. And these last few days… I’ve missed you more than I ever thought possible.”

“So why are we doing this, Y/N? Why are you going back to Steph’s and why are we not fixing this?” his thick voice was pleading, reaching across the table to grab ahold of your free hand. “I didn’t sleep with her.”

“But you thought that you did, Harry. You thought that you had slept with someone else, and lied to me about it.”

“I didn’t lie! I told you that I didn’t know if I did, and that was the truth!”

“I know, but you lied to me every day after that night. You walked around every day thinking that you did something so horrible and vile that I would leave you if I ever found out, so you kept it from me. That’s what hurts, Harry. Not the girl or what you thought you did. The fact that you would rather lie to me than work together and find a solution.”

His mouth hung open and you realized that he had nothing left to say, because he knew you were right. Every minute of your relationship had been built on trust and knowing that you each had the other’s best interests at heart, so what did you have when those values seemed to dissolve?

“Don’t leave me.”

Three simple words made your entire facade crumble. In all five years you’d known the man in front of you, never had you heard him sound so small and scared. And it hurt to know that it was directed at you, but just as you did five days ago, you needed to do what was best for you.

“I’m not. Harry I don’t think I could ever. But I just need some time. A few more days, a month, I don’t know. I just need to get out of the mindset this whole situation put me in, and when I do, we can do this again. But that time, we can leave together.”

It wasn’t ideal and it wasn’t ever how you thought your relationship would go, but it was reality. Sometimes the things you hold dearest in life are tested and the only way to see the light at the end of the tunnel is to go through it. But you had faith in Harry. You had faith that no matter what happened while you apart, that you would find your way back to each other. Because there was no way, after five years together and five as friends, that you would lose each other. He was the one part of fame that you’re glad no one warned you about. The ride the two of you had taken wasn’t something you wanted to be one step ahead of, as living in the moment with him was the happiest you had ever, and will ever be. He was the brightness your life needed.

But that bright, happy, yellow room would forever be tainted with the day you walked away from Harry.

#harry styles imagine #harry styles one shot #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x you #harry styles x reader #harry styles blurb #harry styles imagines #harry styles one shots #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fan fiction #harry styles fan fic #harry styles blurbs #1dff

380 notes · View notes

rmg91 · 4 years ago

Text

It Shouldn’t Be This Hard

(To Propose To Your Girlfriend)

LOOK! I WROTE SOMETHING! I AM NOT DEAD! Just still distracted by the RP with Autumn. It's too fun, can you blame me? We have such a cute universe happening. Anyway, the muses finally spoke to me and I've been wanting to do a 5+1 for a while now and the right idea came to me. And while this may be a little late it's also my Broppy Day submission. Although when you ship Broppy, everyday is Broppy Day XD

So without future ado, enjoy!

AO3/FF.net

~*~*~*~*~RMG~*~*~*~*~

This was it. This was the night Branch Hawthorn was finally going to propose to his girlfriend of two years, Poppy Meadows. Everything was going to plan and for that Branch was grateful for as he was nervous enough as it was. Both he and Poppy had been able to leave their respective works early to get ready, although Poppy just believed tonight was a fairly normal date night. Then, looking their best and with clear starry night above them, they gotten to Trollington's best restaurant, Chez L'amour, with minimal traffic interference and their reservation had not been lost or given away, things Branch had worried about. Now, with their belly's full of warm delicious food and wine -though Poppy was always quick to assure Branch his cooking was still her very favorite- and dessert on the horizon, Branch was ready to take the plunge.

The mood was perfect, candlelight gleamed and a soft melody was echoing around them and Poppy was looking so beautiful with her bright pink hair pulled up with some strands framing her heart-shaped face and her freckles lit up by the flickering candles and her own bright smile. And her eyes, those beautiful, amber eyes that he just loved to get lost in, were shining with warmth and love just for him. And that was something he still couldn't get over, after all those years of pining and yet so sure he didn't deserve her, he had gotten the girl of his dreams and she loved him. And he hoped she accepted what he was about to ask.

Reaching out across the table, Branch took her hand in his as he returned her smile and hoped the nervousness he felt wasn't obvious. He must have been doing a good job of hiding it so far but he didn't want her to notice now before he had a chance to ask. And maybe it was a little cliché to ask in a romantic restaurant setting but he had spent weeks thinking about this and building up his confidence and he wasn't about to chicken out now. Given her hand a squeeze, he took a sip of his water to wet his throat before speaking, “Enjoy your dinner?” Start small, don't jump into it. All part of the plan.

His gorgeous pinkette grinned and nodded, “Yup! And I can't wait for dessert! I have been dreaming about their triple layer strawberry chiffon cake all week!” She took a sip of her wine before returning his squeeze of their hands before a playful smirk overcame her face and she cupped her chin in her head as she leaned over the table, “You know...You never did tell me why you decided this would be our date destination~ What made you choose the fancy place?”

Branch chuckled and hoped it sounded normal, it sounded off to him, but he simple shrugged and tried not to look away from those wonderful and curious eyes, “What? Can't a boyfriend treat his girlfriend to a fancy dinner once in a while? Plus I know how much you love to dress up, thought it be nice.” And he had a small square box burning a hole in his pocket, just waiting to be pulled out. Absolutely nothing unusual going on. Nope. “And have I mentioned just how beautiful you look tonight? Because you do, absolutely stunning~” He even raised her hand to his lips to kiss her knuckles softly to complete his statement.

“Stooop~” She giggled, that perfect sound the best kind of music to his ears as a light blush dusted her cheeks, “Keep talking like that and you might get lucky tonight~”

“I'm already lucky~” And he was. So, so lucky that this brilliantly bright and bubbly woman had not only healed his torn soul and made him want to live rather than just survive but had given her heart fully to him to hold and cherish. Something he did every day so thankfully and would hopefully get to do well into the future together with matching rings on their fingers. Taking what he hoped was a subtle deep breath, for this was it, he wouldn't get a better time to, Branch opened him mouth to begin his speech, something he had been working painstakingly on for months, pretty much since he decided he was going to propose, but was interrupted by the sound of applause.

He and Poppy, who took her hand back to turn around, looked at the reason for it at another table where another couple sat. A brunette man down on one knee was slipping a ring on the happily crying blonde woman's finger as the other patrons clapped for them. Poppy bounced in her seat, adding to the applause, cooing before she spun back around, “Isn't that sweet?! I'm so happy Oak finally proposed! Oh, Daffodil must be so happy! Isn't that great, Branch? Our friends are gonna get married!”

“Y-yeah..Super great.” Branch hoped beyond hope he wasn't being obvious on how he really felt. Of course! Of course the universe would do this to him! It was all going so well! But then of course something had to happen to ruin his plans! Yes, he could still ask Poppy. No, it wasn't Oak's fault for asking his own girlfriend just before he could but he didn't dare take the spotlight away from the other couple. Poppy was right, they were their friends, and while he was sure neither would mind it still felt wrong to Branch to ask Poppy now after somebody else had beaten him to the punch. Sighing, confidence now deflating as he slumped slightly in his chair, Branch decided he'd just have to try another time. It was fine. Completely fine! That decision made, not that it made him happy, the blue-haired survivalist resolved himself to finish off the rest of this night as best he could. Not that Poppy had any idea, she was far too excited to think anything was wrong with him as she pulled him over to congratulate their friends.

And maybe this was for the best, maybe his second attempt would go better?

A few weeks later, some more planning, a few personal pep-talks and Branch was ready to try again. They were currently in her father's backyard, surrounded by all their closest friends, even Gristle and Bridget who managed to make it down from Bergenville, having a simple summer barbecue. Branch was manning the grill, keeping half an eye on the food and the other half on Poppy as she fluttered around their friends, having fun playing games and jamming out to the music Suki had brought along. And perhaps this would be a better proposal anyway. While Branch would have must prefer to propose in a more private setting, which made him wonder why he even thought of the restaurant version in the first place, Poppy would probably enjoy it more if it happened surrounded by the people she loved most. And she deserved everything that made her happy.

Adjusting a few hot dogs so they wouldn't burn, he closed the grill just as his barefooted beauty came skipping over, a cheery smile gracing her lips. Setting down his tongs, Branch easily and happily welcomed her into his arms as she wrapped hers around his neck and gave his nose a fond nuzzle, “Mmm~ Everything smells amazing! Can't wait to eat!”

Branch chuckled warmly, nuzzling her back as he rubbed circles with his thumbs over her hips, leaning closer to her, “Should be ready soon. I know everyone's getting hungry. But first...” He then closed the minimal gap between them, giving her a soft kiss that had her sighing and relaxing in his arms. Sharing a few more soft kisses, and ignoring the wolf whistles from Guy and Smidge, Branch subtly glanced at the grill and decided the food would be okay for a moment. Because he figured now was a good time to pop the question to the queen of his heart as he had her undivided attention. Subtly guiding her away from the barbecue, he distracted her with words and some more gentle meetings of their lips, “Having fun, I take it?”

She giggled, that wonderful, tinkling sound that always spread warmth through him and nodded, “You know it~! I'm so glad everyone was able to make it! It feels like forever since we last did something!” It really hadn't, the Snack Pack was still just as close as they'd always been but Poppy was always one for exaggerating when she could. And well...maybe it had been a few weeks since they'd gotten a chance to just relax and hang out without work or other engagements in the way.

Speaking of engagements....

Branch stopped the careful migration a few feet from the hot grill, in a good spot where everyone would be able to see what was about to happen and carefully nuzzled his and Poppy's noses together, hoping she couldn't feel the sudden rapid beating of his heart, “So I wanted to ask you something..”

“Hmm? Yeeess~?” She hummed, watching him with those sparkling eyes he really did drown in every time he looked into them.

“Well I-”

And for the second time his very important question was interrupted, this time by the back gate slamming open and a familiar voice shouting, “Sup, Losers!!! The party's just arrived!”

“Barb!!!” Poppy screeched happily, tearing herself away from Branch to run and jump into her cousins hold with a very enthusiastic hug. One the punk-rock queen caught easily before swinging the bubblegum princess around, laughing loudly.

“Sup, Popsqueak?! Came to see if I couldn't liven you and your sugary-sweet friends up a little!” The red-pink mo-hawked band leader said, finally putting the other woman down as her right-hand band mate and drummer came up beside her, in a much more subdued manner. “Yo! Boy-Toy! Add a few extra burgers cause I'm starvin'!”

“There's plenty!” Branch cried back as Poppy and the Pack swarmed Barb for greetings and playful jabs. He then sighed roughly, ran a hand through his hair and returned to make sure nothing had burned. It was fine. No big deal. There was still plenty of day left for him to try again. There was just an extra few people around to watch now. As he checked on the food on the grill, moving a few things around and taking the vegetable skewers off, Riff came over after getting his own excited hug from Poppy.

“Sup, man. Everything okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, everything's fine.” Okay, mostly fine. But having been around Poppy since they were kids, Branch knew to try to look for the silver living. He'd get another chance later that evening, he was sure. “Just weren't expecting you guys. Little surprised.” More like a little annoyed at the interruption but he'd get over it.

The dark hair drummer chuckled softly, “Yeah...but you know the boss lady. Loves to make a entrance. But hey! We brought beer!” He lifted up a large case of beer as a peace offering. Branch gestured to the cooler behind him, telling him to add some to it and thanked him, mind half on the cooking, half on thinking about when he'd get that second chance to talk to Poppy.

...Sadly for poor Branch, that chance never came.

Having spent the rest of his time at the grill, catching up with Riff, he had soon let everyone know food was ready and the group swarmed up for the delicious smelling entrees. Then as everyone are and laughed and enjoyed, Barb and Riff regaled everyone with tales of shenanigans and adventures of their world tour. Describing the pounding energy of their concert in Brazil to their little hot spring mishap in Japan after a show. Poppy was thoroughly entranced by her cousins tales and completely distracted from Branch's attempts to gain a little attention long enough for him to get the question burning in his throat out. Then of course the pop/rock duo started the karaoke with a bang, which as fun as it was, just distracted Poppy more and didn't give Branch a chance to regain any sort of romantic mood. By the time the sun was long set but the energy of everyone was still high, Branch had given up for the night. There was no way he going to propose tonight, especially after Barb convinced everyone to go clubbing.

They say third times the charm, right?

A week and some brooding later and Branch was ready to start planning again. He needed to come up with a good one too this time, something where they'd be alone, without anyone around and where he'd have Poppy's undivided attention. However he, himself, was slightly distracted and prevented from doing any sort of real planning as he and Poppy were currently passing Saturday night as they were prone to do. Snuggled up on the couch, lights dimmed and watching movies. There was even a light pattering of rain outside to add the cozy atmosphere they found themselves in.

A Rom-com Poppy had been wanting to see was currently playing, the screen flickering image's by as the main character's flubbed another love confession and Poppy snuggled up close to his chest. Branch's head rested on the arm rest, arms wrapped snugly around his girlfriend, rubbing mindless shapes where his hands rested on her waist. He knew as soon as the movie was over they would probably have to move to bed, sleeping on the couch was not that comfortable nor good for them after all, but right now he was in no position to move either of them. Bending his neck, he buried his nose in her pink locks and inhaled the fresh strawberry scent of her favorite shampoo, nuzzling gently. That was when it hit him, they were alone, there was no one or anything to interrupt him and he'd have Poppy's full attention. Yes, his inner romantic cried at the lack of romance but he had learned from Poppy to take the opportunity when it was presented to you, not to shy away. So, taking a subtle breath to calm his suddenly beating heart, Branch got ready to take the plunge.

Starting simple, he murmured softly, “I love you~”

“Mmm~ Love you too~” The pinkette responded in a light and airy voice, settling as deep as she could into his embrace.

Taking a moment to rub her shoulder and place a gentle kiss on the top if her head, Branch began a speech that he'd crafted and re-crafted hundreds of times already it felt like and it never felt perfect. Hopefully though now, he'd find the right words. “I...can't tell you just how lucky I am to have you in my life. You are...the greatest thing to ever happen to me and I am so, so grateful you took the chance on this ragged, broken and gray soul and made life bright again. You...Heh, you are my sunshine, making my days brighter and fuller and more fun than ever before. And yeah, you're crazy with your scheme's and your scrapbooking and leaving glitter everywhere but I wouldn't trade that for the world. Bring on the cupcakes and rainbows because I'm ready...ready to spend the rest of my life with you beside me. Call me selfish but I...I don't ever want to go back to the dark and dull existence. I want you and your sunshine to wake up next to until we're old and bent over and you're still rocking that pink hair. Poppy...I love you so much and if you'll have me, it would make me the happiness man in the entire universe if you agreed to be mine forever. So...I ask you, Poppy Meadows, will...” Deep breath, “Will you marry me?”

There, he'd done it, he finally asked Poppy to marry him and now all that was left was for her to answer and then he could go get the ring from it's place and he could finally see it on her finger. But as the minutes ticked by and he got no answer, Branch was beginning to worry. Had he fucked up? Did he say something wrong? Did she not want to? Was she in shock? Was she trying to find a way to turn him down gently?! Trying not to panic, and failing just a bit, Branch carefully turned his head to look at the woman in his arms, “Poppy?”

And found she was asleep, breath's even and deep and completely dead to the world and the proposal he had just cited.

Biting back a silent groan, Branch tilted his head over the arm rest and stared at the ceiling. Of course, why wouldn't this happen?! The universe truly must hate him if it had allowed him to finally ask Poppy only for her to be asleep and having missed the entire thing. Great, just effing great, now he would have to get up the confidence to try again and after three failed attempts he was starting to think maybe he shouldn't. But, as the beautiful girl in arms would tell him, he needed to get back up again and not give up. And it said something about her impact on him when he knew after a little time moping about the newest failed attempt he would do just that.

Besides, he couldn't fail four times in a row, right?

Another few weeks later and Branch was in the midst of planning something the would surely be his best plan yet when Poppy had decided a spontaneous camping trip up in the mountains would be fun. Unable to deny her but secretly lamenting the lost chance of being able to ask her under the fireworks display that was happening that weekend, Branch had agreed. So they packed up the car and drove off for a weekend spent in nature. Which normally would have thrilled Branch but he was still sort of disappointed in the loss of another romantic plan.

However, even though she had no idea she had off railed another proposal attempt, Poppy still managed to cheer him up with her natural exuberance and joy. And the more he thought about, a proposal under the stars with nothing but the quiet sounds of nature around them would be better anyway. He wouldn't have to compete with the sounds of the fireworks and worry about whether Poppy would hear him correctly or not. Yeah, this would be far better and far more romantic. So by the time they reached the campsite, Branch was in a higher mood then when they left, plans already formed around what he'd cook and how he would go about creating the perfect mood.

Arriving at the campsite in the late evening, Branch decided he'd wait until the following night to enact his grand plan, he'd waited this long after all. So he and Poppy went about building their campsite, throwing up the tent and while she piled the sleeping bags, blankets and pillows they had brought into a proper nest, he went to find them some firewood. Soon they had a nice cozy fire to sit by and after a quick meal of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, they were cuddled up in Branch's chair, Poppy having abandoned hers in favor of his lap. And having his loving, cheerful, kind girlfriend snuggled up in his lap had almost made Branch abandon all plans and just propose right there, he stopped himself. Waiting one more day wouldn't kill him, plus Poppy was already half asleep and he didn't want a repeat of his attempt on the couch. So, picking her up and carting her off to get settled in the tent, he quickly doused the flames before joining her, falling asleep with her in his arms and images of tomorrow night dancing in his head.

Too bad he hadn't foreseen the incident that had occurred the next day.

After a morning spent cuddling, flirting and in all good mood, something Poppy made sure to tease him about saying she had been right that the trip would be a good thing, his pink whirlwind had suggested a little hike after lunch. The day was perfect for it, sunny, a little breezy with fluffy white clouds drifting by in the sky, so Branch had agreed. Never mind that he was looking forward to the evening once the stars came out. So packing up some water bottles, trail mix, a few energy bars and gummy candies, they had set off on the local hiking trail.

Poppy of course either filmed or took pictures of anything she saw that she liked, which was almost any flower or butterfly that passed by and Branch was content to just let her be herself, in far too good a mood to be his usual sarcastic self. Well, almost, he did try to act normal as to not tip Poppy off. But she had still noticed something and when she asked him what had in such a good mood, he simply replied with why wouldn't he be with her by his side? Which had earned him a giggle and few kisses as she called him a flirt. Which, really, he wasn't going to deny that because he was flirting, the thought of finally, finally asking her to marry him making him almost giddy. Yes, he was still nervous as hell but this was the forth time he was trying and he'd be damned if he was going to let that stop him again.

Eventually they had arrived on top of a cliff overlooking the forest, the sight rather breathtaking. After a moment of admiration, Poppy was back to taking pictures and talking about nice everything was and Branch nodded and smiled back at her but his mind was elsewhere. He couldn't help as he watched Poppy gush as she was prone to do but to imagine the future, with her walking down the aisle in a gorgeous dress made by the twins, veil fluttering behind her as all their friends and family watched. And then she'd step up to him and exchange vows before they were dubbed husband and wife and he just knew she'd jump into his arms for that kiss as everyone cheered for them. Of course that little daydream soon came to a bursting stop with the next following of events.

There had been a rustling of bushes and before they knew it a deer was jumping out and running off, making both of them jump. Poppy had let out a little squeak and unfortunately for Branch, as he jumped back shocked out of his fantasy, he had gone a little too far and part of the cliff broke from under him, making him off balance and tumbling down to a lower ledge.

“Braaaaanch!!!” Poppy's scream echoed in his ears as he groaned, trying to regain his bearings.

“Branch, are you alright?!” Poppy cried down at him, worry clear in her voice.

“Y-yeah..I'm fi-Aaagggh!!!” Branch groaned, barely having sat up before having to clutch at his arm. Carefully pushing himself up, he pulled his hand away to find it covered in blood and groaned again as he covered his wound back up to stem the bleeding. Great, just fucking great. He was injured. And all because of a stupid deer. At least Poppy was okay. Looking up to check on her, his vision swam briefly and another moan of pain escaped him. Great, he probably had a concussion too.

“Branch! Branch, are you okay?!” Poppy was asking again, having wiggled her way down the steep incline to kneel beside him. She made a noise of distress of seeing him hurt and carefully cupped his jaw in her hands, “Hey. Hey, what can I do to help? Are you hurt anywhere else?!”

“I-I don't...” He hissed as pain pulsed through him, “Don't think so...Might have a concussion though...” He cursed under his breath before telling her to look in his bag for bandages, taking that brief moment of distraction to pat the inside pocket of his vest to make sure the ring was still safe. Which it was, so at least there was that.

Poppy quickly dug into his backpack, finding his first aid kit and pulling out the gauze roll. “Can you move your hand?” She asked softly, cringing at the sight as he did so, “Oh dear...That-That looks really bad....” She sniffed and Branch was about to start comforting her, telling her it probably looked worse than it was but she began to carefully move his sleeve away, causing another hiss to escape him. “Sorry...” She mumbled, wrapping his arm as quickly and gently as she could, sniffing and blinking back tears.

“Hey...” He said, squinting at her because damn his head really hurt, “It's gonna be fine. Please don't cry, Sunshine..”

“I know, I know...I just....that was so scary.” She wiped at her eyes and sniffed again, making Branch want to hold her and comfort her until she calmed down but it hurt to move just about everything. So he did the only thing he could at the moment and carefully brushed his knuckle over her knee, murmuring it was going to okay.

It was about then that someone was calling down to them and they looked up to see a forest ranger had found them. After Poppy explained what happened and that they could use a little help, she quickly finished wrapping his arm up. The next series of events happened rather quickly, at least they did for Branch who's consciousness was starting to go in and out a little and he struggled to stay awake. The ranger had help them off the ledge before helping Poppy carry him back to their camp, where she quickly began to pack everything up. The ranger assured her that he'd keep anything that was left behind and they could come get it later and that getting Branch to a hospital was most important. So then began Poppy's slightly frantic drive to the nearest hospital as Branch had continued his battle with staying awake.

In the end, everything was indeed alright. Branch had to have a good fifteen stitches in his arm and had to stay over night for observation because of the concussion but other than a few other scrapes and bruises, he was fine. But the incident had once again derailed any proposal plans that once he was patched up and allowed a moment alone, Branch had cursed the universe for. Couldn't he have one attempt not go awry?! Yes, sure, there had been other times he could have asked but damn it all, he wanted to do it right! He wanted a romantic scene to ask the love of his life to be his wife and not have it be an off hand mention or after a serious injury!! Was that too much to ask for?! Apparently it was.

So, slumping back into his pillows, Branch stewed and cursed the universe. And eventually started planning attempt number five.

And it had to work, it just had too!

Once it was apparent that Branch was fully healed and recovered about a month later, Poppy suggested another weekend trip to celebrate, though this time it was to the beach. Branch wasn't completely set on the idea, worries of how another proposal attempt could be ruined swarming his head, but once again he really couldn't deny Poppy anything. And she was so excited to go see the sea and enjoy the scenery, ever after he pointed out that the weather wouldn't really be right for any swimming. But ever the optimist, Poppy had said there was lots more to do than just swim and so they made reservations at a hotel and went off for a weekend by the sea.

And as he predicted, the weather had been on the cooler side and slightly overcast but that hadn't stopped Poppy from convincing him to travel around all the shops the little ocean town had to offer. And he had to admit, once again, that she was right. It hadn't been all bad walking along the boardwalk and stopping by whatever little shop or stand caught her attention. Plus her excitement was so genuine and true, Branch couldn't help but eventually relax and have fun too. So they spent the afternoon slipping in and out of various stores, some with pointless, cute nick-knacks, some with clothes and accessories that he and Poppy threw on for selfies or she modeled for him, other with oddities such as seaside myths. They had enjoyed some sea-salt ice-cream at some point before dipping into a little hidden book store and then they stopped for a dinner of fish and chips.

Now they were walking down the beach, hand in hand with Poppy happily swinging their arms between them as the sun sank slowly over the horizon. And Branch had to admit, now would be a pretty good time to try again. They were alone, the few other people on the beach far enough way that they wouldn't somehow get in the way, the setting was calm and relaxing with the sounds of waves gently lapping at the shore as the setting sun painting the sky beautiful pinks and oranges, and Poppy was none the wiser to burning the question that had been lodged in his throat for months now. And nothing was going to stop him now. So, stopping and playfully swinging her around so he could pull her into an embrace, Branch pulled her close for a soft kiss.

When they parted, Poppy giggling lightly as her eyes shone with love, Branch calmly stated, “I love you~”

“Heehee~ I love you too~” Poppy giggled, leaning in for another kiss that Branch was happy to return before the slowly parted once more.

“So there's...something I wanna say...” And ask but he didn't want to give it away just yet. And boy did he hope she didn't notice how his heart had started pumping in his chest. This was it, he finally going to ask Poppy to spend the rest of their lives together and even though this was his fifth attempt, the nerves had returned like it was that first try again.

“I'm all ears, My man~” The pinkette said with a grin, nuzzling her nose against his as she settled her arms around his neck.

Deep breath and ignore the flush that came anytime she called him 'her man', “Well...you see..” Please don't let her notice just how stuttering he was becoming, “You are...the greatest gift I could ask for and I-” And before any more could be said a loud, long horn of a boat sounded, causing both to jump and to look toward the ocean where in the distance a ship could be seen. Huffing, and not about to let one measly horn blast stop him, not this time, Branch tried to continue as Poppy giggled lightly, “Right. As I was saying...” Another deep breath, he could do this, “I love you so much and-” Another three blasts of the horn stopped him again and he glared at the ship as Poppy started to laugh quietly. “Anyway. What I'm trying to say, Poppy, is-” And another long, drawn out horn had him groaning before calling out toward the sea, “Oh come on!!!”

Poppy was now full on laughing, laying her head on his chest as he stewed about the stupid boat, before getting a slight grip on herself. Reaching up, she cupped his face and ran her thumbs over his cheeks, “Branch. Hee~ Branch, it's okay! Let me guess, you have a new poem for me?”

He did but that wasn't what he had been about to say. Still he grumbled, looking off to the side, “Maybe...” He also had a proposal he just couldn't seem to get out before something went wrong.

“Then...~” Poppy started, bringing his face back towards her so she could nuzzle their noses together again, “Why don't we go back to our hotel so you can tell it to me where we won't be interrupted? And then you can tell me all my favorites as you...do other things to me~” She then sealed her offer with a deep kiss. One Branch sank into with a sigh but not without lamenting silently the derailment of yet another proposal. Sure, he supposed he could always try again later that night but something in his gut told him it wouldn't be the right time. He just wanted to propose to Poppy in a romantic setting without anything stopping him! Was that too much to ask for?! Apparently...

“Come on,” Poppy murmured, eyes glazed with want as she pulled away, “We can go take a nice warm bubble bath as you recite your newest piece to me~”

Branch hummed and let her take the lead back to their hotel, still brooding over his latest failure. This was five times now he had been stopped and it was starting to wear down his confidence that he'd ever be able to ask her. Which meant it was probably time to ask for help from her dad and possibly Suki and Smidge if he actually wanted to succeed. Sighing quietly to himself, he squeezed Poppy's hand and hoped that the next attempt would finally be the one.

He could only hope, right?

+1.

Poppy hummed a joyful tune as she walked down the hallway to her apartment, another day of party planning behind her. She still couldn't believe some days that she got to do one of the things she loved most for a living! And she was her own boss! Well...sort of...Sky Toronto was still sort of her boss, sort of her partner but that didn't matter! She got to help people plan out their very best parties! And it was soooo satisfying! Especially after long days like today when her clients had a specific vision they wanted done. Which was fine because everyone deserved to have whatever they wanted to be happy with the party they were throwing but boooy, did it tired her out! But that was fine too because she was now home where her wonderful boyfriend hopefully had dinner waiting for them.

Coming up to their door, and smiling as she always did when she caught sight of their door plaque she'd made, she opened it up, singing proudly, “I'm hooooome~!” Before a fantastically delicious scent hit her nose and she groaned. “Ooooh my goooosh~!” She quickly dropped her purse and came around to the kitchen as her stomach gave a rumble, “That smells amazing! Did you make enchiladas?!”

Branch chuckled, that warm, fond sound that always melted her insides a little as he finished pulling the dish out of the oven, “I did. I even made them...chicken enchiladas like you said you wanted.”

“Yeeeessss~!” Poppy hissed happily, “Yes, yes, yes! I am starving!” She excitedly through her arms around him once his hands were free in a tight hug, “You are the best boyfriend ever!” After pulling him down for a quick, grateful kiss, the pinkette pulled away for a little happy dance. “Oooh, I can't wait to dig in! What else did you make?!”

Another one of those warm, fond chuckles came from the blue-haired hottie she had a claim on and he gestured to the stove, “Some Mexican Rice and..” He led her gaze to the table where some different dips and chips sat, “Some sides.”

“Aaaah~! Yes! Your guacamole is the best!!!” Poppy scurried over and took a chip full of green dip, humming in delight at the tangy taste and did another little happy dance as she stuffed another chip into her mouth. “Gosh! D'ish ish shooo goood~!”

“Do you maybe want a plate full or do you wanna continue dancing in place as you eat over the table?” Branch asked, amusement ringing through his tone.

“Oh, haha!” Poppy responded, hands on her hips, “I can't help it! I told you I am staving! Mrs. Sparks ran me all over town looking for just the right party venue and I barely had time to eat lunch. But I did!” She added quickly knowing he would scold her for not eating lunch. “Anyway, once we finally found the right place, I started throwing out ideas for decorations and food and I think we've got a nice solid base now!”

“Sounds like you a had a busy day.” He grinned as she nodded, stuffing another chip into her mouth, “Also sounds like you might need a margarita.”

“You made margaritas?!” Poppy cried, excitedly, looking at him with wide, happy eyes. Oh, she officially loved this man!!! “Can we have them blended?!” She asked, bouncing happily when he nodded and turned to get the pitcher out of the fridge, telling her to get the blender out. “Yeessss~!” She cheered, already halfway to the cabinet to pull out of the appliance. As she set it out on the counter and watched him place the pitcher on the table before getting in the freezer for ice, the thought that this was her life, that she had such a wonderful, thoughtful and sweet boyfriend by her side made her feel all warm and fuzzy inside. And that she wanted this for the rest of her life. She wanted to come home after a long day to dinner or even surprise him in return with the same, she wanted long, cuddly movies nights and lazy mornings in spent in bed. She wanted picnics and romantic date nights, days spent at home filled with laughter and singing or the occasional quiet as they both worked on their respective hobbies. Games nights with friends and maybe, just maybe...one day an adorable child that looked like the two of them. Poppy wanted it all with Branch right by her side in every way possible. So without really thinking about she suddenly said, “Marry me.”

“WHAT?!?!” Branch sputtered, pulling out of the freezer with a wide eyed, shocked expression, staring at her like she had lost her mind.

It took a moment for her to actually realize what she'd said but then she was beaming and nodding, bouncing over next to him, because yes, she very much wanted to marry this man, “You heard me! Marry me!!”

Branch stared and kept staring and eventually he hid his face in a hand as the freezer door closed and Poppy was beginning to worry when his shoulders began to shake. At first she thought maybe he was crying but then the quiet chuckling came which soon turned into full blown laughter and he was leaning against the fridge to support himself. Poppy pouted at him and crossed her arms, “I'm serious, Branch! Don't laugh at me!”

He tried and failed to say something a few times, each times getting cut off by more guffaws then before, before he gestured for her to stay where she was and turned to go down the hallway. Poppy was very confused, and a little hurt, that he was laughing because she meant what she'd said but she didn't have time to think much more on it as he came back, still chuckling. Standing in front of her, he finally got a grip on himself and grinned at her, stray snickers still coming and going as he reached out to cup her cheek, “I'm not laughing at you, Sunshine. Promise. I'm laughing because...” He took a deep breath before cupping his hands around something and bringing it into her view, “Because I've been trying to ask you the same thing for months.”

Poppy gasped, hands flying to her mouth, as she saw the small velvet box opened on his palm containing the prettiest ring she'd ever seen. A golden band that held a round, sparkling blue topaz in it's center, flanked by two smaller pink gems, the metal band twisted around them to hold them in place. “Oh Branch...” She sniffed, grinning behind her hands, because of course that was the reasoning behind his sort of off behavior the last few months, before crying, “Yes!”

He smirked at her, blue eyes twinkling, “Pretty sure that's suppose to be my line. You did ask first.”

“Oooooh!!!” She growled, well and truly starting to cry now as she grinned winder than ever before, “Just-Just shut up and put that ring on my finger!!”

“So demanding.” He cooed, smile just as wide and eyes damp as he did just that. Giving her hand a look that said he was finally happy to see that ring on her finger before he brought it up to lay a kiss on it.

Then they were both laughing and Branch was scooping her up and twirling her around, hugging her close. Poppy cried as she laughed, burying her face in his shoulder, the unbelievable feeling that she was engaged coursing through her as Branch spun them around. Soon he stopped and she lifted her face to see he was crying and grinning she as she was and she felt another giggle come before they both leaned in for a kiss. Kissing him with all that she had, they stood there, her in his arms as they moved their mouths against one another's as their tears mingled. Pulling back, both breathless and smiling and so, so happy, Poppy looked into Branch's eyes and chirped, “I love you~!”

“I love you too, Sunshine.” He grinned, the expression lighting up his face like she loved to see, “And I will for the rest of our lives.”

“Good~ Because so will I~” And she pulled him for another celebratory kiss and another and another before they were both laughing and twirling again. And eventually they got to that dinner, now a celebratory one, and made plans to tell everyone the following day but for now...for now they were just going to bask in the haze of excitement and happiness that surrounded them as they looked toward a very happy and bright future together.

~*~*~*~*~RMG*~*~*~*~

Always gotta go full cheese at the ending right? Anyway, this was obviously done a tad differently than I normally do just because I tried to keep within Branch's perspective and then Poppy's when I normally write both in conjecture to each other and it was a bit of a challenge but I'm really happy with how this came out! And I hope you all enjoyed it too!

Until next time!

#Dreamworks Trolls #Branch #Poppy #Broppy #Fanfiction #Trolls #Fluff #Five plus one #Human AU #I WROTE SOMETHING

33 notes · View notes

dopescotlandwarrior · 4 years ago

Text

Beauty Chooses II-Chapter 17

A special thanks to @statell for all your help

Previous chapters at AO3

Chapter 17 1776

The man hunched over, under a blanket, and headed up the mountain road. He was desperately tired and almost starved after hiding from people who would take him into custody. He narrowly escaped the first attempt to take him, but his papers had convinced the ruffians to move on. After that he took no chances and stayed hidden from sight, only moving under the cover of darkness. He could easily hide in the vegetation of the mountain road if someone was coming, so he felt safe walking in the daylight. He looked up the mountain and wondered how far it was and if she would still be there. He kept walking.

I looked up from my garden to see Brain walk out of the woods with a deer slumped dead on his shoulder. He was happy and tossed the thing onto our processing table to butcher it. It filled me with relief when he brought more meat to store away because I expected it could be a very unstable winter. Jamie has been gone for a week, meeting with the governor who is calling in his debt. This beautiful land, the Ridge, that allowed our community to prosper all these years had a price and Jamie would be the one to pay it. I wanted Jamie back home, to hear the news, and to hold him for as long as I could. I’m feeling powerless and scared, like the final days at Lallybroch before the blue stone saved us all.

Every man, young or old, that resided on the Ridge, was aligned with the rebels against the king's army. Many would fight against the loyalists when they were called. This secret was carefully kept. When the government came sniffing, they were told strong loyalists were present to stand at the hand of their leader, Jamie Fraser. It made my stomach turn to think of the dangerous game they were playing. I tried to concentrate on harvesting the last of the garden before it rested for the winter.

I stood up, stretching my back to ease the stiffness and thought, not for the first time, that fifty-four years of age was too young to suffer from constant back pain. When the ache passed, I walked to the gardening shed to put up my tools for the day. It was time to start the evening meal, my duty since Misses Crook was called home to heaven. It had been three years and I still looked for her from time to time and missed her always. As close to a mother I would ever know, a part of me felt empty without her. I walked toward Brian to admire his deer, but his love interest came out of nowhere and hugged his neck. He looked so happy, beaming a smile at her. I decided not to intrude and headed to the house.

Glavia was already adding chunks of vegetables to the pot in the kitchen. Since Daniel was away for his father’s funeral, we decided to feed everybody at one home, mine was far larger. It was so nice to have her here for the past week and I hugged her when I entered the kitchen. Glavia’s oldest son accompanied his father to the funeral, but the other two were there in the kitchen, getting in the way, regaling us with funny stories of their trip to town. I hugged them both and let them know that Brian shot a deer to add to our winter stores. Glavia looked at me with relief. We had seen our share of near starvation over the years when fate and the weather worked against us. It taught us to double our garden space and sell less of the harvest each year.

Jamie has provided for us quite well, however those lean years were terrifying. We all shared what little we had, and the men hunted ten hours a day with little to show for it. Jamie decided to do something about that and used every penny we had to purchase animals, wherever and whenever he found them. It started with three chickens and we feasted on the fresh eggs the first year. The next year he brought home a rooster and soon there were fluffy baby chickens all over the yard, sticking close to their mothers as they pecked the dirt. The chicken coup was enlarged twice to facilitate their numbers and we invited all families on the Ridge to take part in their upkeep, feeding, cleaning, and protecting. I dubbed it the Ridge Cooperative and it grew as we added pig breeding, then sheep, then a few goats. Through this effort, we added pork, eggs, chicken, goat cheese. milk, and wool to our daily existence. It took many years to build up a strong breeding and selling program and we made a lot of mistakes. I remember Misses Crook running across the front yard with a pan of chicken feed in her hand, screaming bloody murder, and a huge male pig chasing her. The giggle bubbled up when the kitchen was quiet, and I realized everyone was looking at me.

I turned around and shrugged my shoulders, “just remembering the pig chasing Misses Crook across the yard.”

Everyone seemed keen on sharing a funny story about Misses Crook, we laughed and held our stomachs until she was there with us again through our memories. I could feel her presence and my eyes stung from tears that were held back. Glavia yelled at her boys to bring the chairs in from the parlor and gave me a knowing smile.

Two years ago, Jamie returned from his spring run to town for seed and supplies with a skinny cow tied to the back of the wagon and I nearly fainted. A cow! I was thrilled to have milk again, real milk, after so many years. The poor cow was malnourished and half dead after the trek up the mountain, but I was determined to bring her to the peak of health and have fresh milk every day. I named her Bluebell, after my favorite ice cream in my century. Now she is three times that size and free-range, coming home each day to be milked and have a scoop of grain and fresh grass hay. I focused on getting stew into bowls and wondered where my daughter was.

Faith snapped out of her daydreaming and stretched at her desk in the schoolroom. She stayed late to prepare the lessons for the next day and got lost in her mind where she constructed her perfect life filled with friends and love, children, and a home. Whenever she allowed herself to think of such things it always left her emotional because she would never have such things. She was busy with learning to teach, helping the community with childbirth, and medicating cuts, burns, and headaches, when she should have been socializing and flirting with the growing number of eligible bachelors in the community. She couldn’t be bothered at that time and somehow the years pushed her over the proper age of marriage and to her horror sealed her fate as a spinster. She shook her head and yawned, reaching for her cloak to go home.

It was already dark when Faith closed the door to the schoolroom and the cold breeze seemed to go right through her. Hunkering into her cloak she hurried home until she saw movement in the trees. She stopped and set her eyes on one tree, the way she was taught, and stared straight at it. There it was, a figure, man or beast, moving slowly up the road to the ridge. She watched it struggle to put one foot in front of the other and finally collapse. She started running, realizing it was a human and called out she was coming.

“Sir, are you well? Do you need food or water?”

She struggled to pull the man to his feet and looked at his handsome face. “Who do you come to see?”

“Claire.”

“Come with me, I will take you to her.”

“Thank God.”

Claire heard Faith calling from the front door, and with her mother’s-hearing, knew something was not right. She wiped her hands on her apron and came quickly.

“Who is this Faith?”

“I don’t know, I saw him fall on the road and ran to help him. He asked…for you.”

“Come and sit down sir, I am Claire Fraser, you look like you could use some food and drink.”

Before I could walk away the man’s hand shot out and seized my arm.

“Pet.”

I felt paralyzed, stunned into silence. That name, Pet, was from a long time ago, and it once meant so much to me. The years of separation made my memory foggy as I tried to remember…

“Dear God, is it you, Joe?”

I fell to my knees and pushed the blanket off his head so I could see his face. It was all I could do not to faint when his incredible eyes found mine. I jumped up and hugged him for all I was worth, sobbing his name over and over. He pulled me to the couch and looked at my face smiling.

“I’ve missed you, Pet.”

I held his hand so tight and sobbed. I wanted to ask him what he was doing here, why did he come, where was Baritone, how long could he stay. But I couldn’t form a single word in my shocked mind, so I just looked at him and cried. Glavia was so happy to see him and hugged him with her own tears rolling down her face.

By now, everyone was standing in the parlor, watching us, wondering who this man was that meant so much to us.

“Joe, may I introduce you to my son, Brian, Glavia’s sons, Matthew and Jacob, and this is Faith, who you held as an infant. Everybody, this is Joe Abernathy, my dearest friend.”

The boys approached respectfully and shook hands in welcome and smiled with warmth. Brian was especially interested and remained close enough to hear every word. Joe spoke to each of them, asking about their lives, their age, their favorite things. He still held my hand and Brian was silently observing. We pulled him into the kitchen and got three bowls of stew in him while we continued to talk about superficial things. As Glavia and I cleaned up the kitchen, Joe continued to talk with the boys. His interest in them made them want to talk, so they did. I could tell Brian wanted to grill him about how he knew me so well, but he politely excused himself to fetch his little love for an evening walk. When Glavia took her boys home she hugged Joe and kissed his cheek, promising to visit every day while he was here.

Faith had not uttered a word since bringing Joe home. It was her nature to sit quietly and observe things she did not understand. Joe looked at her and beamed a smile in her direction.

“I cannot tell you how good it is to see you again, young lady. You have grown into a beautiful woman and I see parts of both parents in your face.”

Joe’s speech and mannerisms were not of this time or place and his statement about her beauty was taboo for a stranger, making her shrink into the corner. I wanted to speak freely with Joe and made a fuss about how tired he looked.

“Let me show you to the guest room, Joe. I will bring hot water for you to wash and then you can rest. We will have loads of time to catch up I hope.”

When we were alone, he asked if I could come to his room later and talk. I nodded yes and smiled, telling him to rest until then. I knew I had to say something to Faith, but what? One thing I was sure of, I wouldn’t lie to her.

“Mama?”

“Yes, darling, I’m sure you have a lot of questions, but I would like to talk when your father is here, the three of us. Do you mind terribly?”

“No, I can wait.”

She kissed me on the cheek and went upstairs to her room, brimming with questions I’m sure. Once in my own room, I tried to read, then paced for a bit, and finally crept downstairs and tapped on Joe’s door. He opened it and hugged me into the room. I was decidedly uncomfortable, in a closed room with a man who was not my husband. I shook my head like I was daft, but it didn’t help. After spending more years in this century than my own, I could not allow such impropriety and suggested we speak quietly in the kitchen. I poured whisky for us both and the strong spirit took his breath away at first, then he slid the glass back toward the bottle and I poured another round.

“We said your name every day, Pet, at least once, Baritone and me. He loved you like a sister. When I went through his things, I found a sonogram picture of Faith that he kept all these years and a picture of you and him in front of the fire talking.”

A tear rolled down Joe’s cheek and I grabbed his hand, “what happened?”

“He died of a brain tumor. Diagnosis to death in six months. Inoperable and no treatment. I sold my practice right away and we traveled, lived the high-life, ate, drank, loved, and talked for hours and hours. We walked the surf of so many countries and talked until he couldn’t anymore. The tumor ravaged his brain in four months, so I brought him home, put him to bed, and kept talking. If there was a single piece of brain tissue left that could interpret my voice, I wanted him to know I was right next to him.”

Joe cried into his shirt, trying to stay quiet. I hugged him and he gripped me like a life saver to a drowning man. I just held him and rocked back and forth, saying how sorry I was that he lost his love. It was quite some time we stayed like that. Until he could speak again, I just rocked him.

“He is buried at Lallybroch. It was his wish, the only place that ever felt like home, he said. Every spring he would collect those hay cubes left from the last harvest and give them to a neighbor for his horse. We would go together when I could get away for a few days. To care for the house, prepare it for winter, drive into town, and visit Fiona.” Joe was quiet for a minute. “ We kept our room in the basement, it was comfortable, and the master bedroom just had too much of you and Jamie in it. After Baritone was laid to rest, I spent three days in that room and your energy seemed to wrap around me in comfort. I swear, Pet, I felt you there.”

“I’m so glad it brought you comfort, Joe.

“I couldn’t cope with losing both of you. I spent a week in the library and online, learning everything I could about this century, I found plenty of bills of sale in the archives, for… slave ownership, and had one forged with Jamie’s name on it. It got me out of being arrested when I first got here, after that, I only traveled at night.”

“I am so honored and overwhelmed that you came to find me. It was quite a risk though, how could you be sure we were still here?” I watched Joe struggle to answer and when he did it broke my heart.

“I am in a dark place, Pet. I wanted to see you and nothing else mattered.”

I could see his hands shaking and knew he was exhausted. “Do you think you can sleep, Joe? We can talk again tomorrow. Jamie should be home tomorrow and he will be so happy to see you.”

“Yes, thank you, Pet. See you in the morning.”

I turned the lamps down as I moved toward the stairs. I felt so sad about Baritone’s passing and Joe’s broken heart. Hopefully, some time on the Ridge will heal his heart and soul, meanwhile I have my best friend back.

I always woke early when Jamie was away. I had started the porridge cooking when I heard the front door close and looked around the corner. Joe was standing rigid, glaring at me, and I felt the hair on my neck stand up.

“What is it Joe, what’s happened?”

He looked at me for a whole minute before he answered making me very uncomfortable.

“You have slaves.”

“Certainly not, don’t be ridiculous.”

“What are all those dark-skinned men doing working your fields, Pet?”

I pulled his hand to the kitchen and pushed him into a chair. “They are not my slaves, they are working their own fields. We do not allow slavery on the Ridge, we never have.”

I put a bowl in front of him and noticed his expression was still concern and maybe some disbelief.

“It hasn’t been easy and we have had to fight for their right to stay here. Jamie has ownership papers on every person of color in our community. It’s against the law to free a slave in this time and we have been forced to prove our right to them. It is nasty business owning a human being but here they are equal to every other person on the Ridge. Maybe it’s not true freedom. They cannot leave here but they can choose to farm their own land or any other profession they fancy, they raise their families and all the children are schooled together.” I took a deep breath and looked at my friend. “It’s the best life they can have now that they are in this country and no one tells them what to do. They are happy here.”

I felt his hand cover mine, “I’m sorry I jumped to conclusions. You and Jamie have done a remarkable thing for these people. What of Murtagh?”

“He is with Jamie right now but normally spends most of his time in town. He has a blacksmith business there. It was his idea to free the ten slaves that were sent to work here by Jamie’s aunt. It all started with him.”

Faith had been listening from upstairs and meekly entered the kitchen and said hello to her mother and Joe. She ate her breakfast, cleaned the kitchen up, and went outside to collect eggs and wait for her father to get home. She agreed to wait for him before her questions were answered and it was killing her not to blurt them out. Why was her mother so familiar with this man? Why did he talk like an educated man? When and where did he hold her as an infant? Faith was sure Brian would have questions of his own.

I talked with Joe for most of the morning and when I heard the wagon outside, I flew to the door and rushed outside. It took a moment to find him with all the men around but when the sun bounced off those azure eyes, I made a mad dash for him and jumped into his arms. He hugged me to him and whispered endearments into my ear. I was so happy to see him and whispered that Joe was here. Jamie held me at arm's length and looked at me with shock on his face.

“Did ye say Joe, mo chridhe?”

“Yes, he came last night. He is heartsick because Baritone died, and he just had to see us and hopefully feel better. I left him a stone shard in case he ever needed to find me.”

Jamie’s face broke into a smile, “I canna wait to see him Sassenach, where is…”

Joe was walking toward Jamie when he looked up and the men shook hands and hugged both smiling and laughing.

“It’s good to see ye, Joe. I’ll be wantin yer time to talk in a bit but I havena washed in a week… and need to.”

Murtagh was next to shake hands and hug Joe, then the three of them headed for the stream for a chilly bath. I brought towels down for them and stopped in my tracks at the sight of them, laughing and talking, so happy to be in each other’s company again.

I put out the noon meal and we sat around the table and talked, about Baritone, Misses Crook, our children, Joe’s practice, and a million other things. We talked about the night Joe and I jumped to find Jamie in the wagon at Lallybroch and how Joe started his heart again once we were back, only to nearly lose him again from blood loss two days later.

“It was Baritone that found the blood you needed but I never asked him how, and now it’s too late,” I whispered, feeling a tear roll down my cheek.

“He was a good man. Let us toast our good friend.”

Jamie poured whisky all around and asked us to stand and held his glass up, “I swear by my hope in heaven that we’ll meet again my friend. To Baritone.”

“To Baritone,” said in unison, and the whisky was tossed back to fortify us during this heartbreaking memorial.

I watched for Faith to come in all afternoon to stem any talk of jumping and the century in the future. I wasn’t aware she was upstairs listening to every word until I ran up for my cloak and fell over her. She was sitting on the floor with her back against the wall and when I tumbled to the ground, I sat up quickly, eye to eye with her and knew she had heard it all.

“Please Faith, wait for your father and me to have a moment to talk with you about this. I know it sounds impossible and you have questions that I promise to answer but it has to wait sweetheart.”

“Why? You were all there together. Why can’t you all answer them for me? It’s what I want mama, as soon as Glavia gets here.”

I wanted to speak with Jamie about this first, but Faith had heard almost every detail of our living in the future and then jumping back. I surrendered to what I felt was fair at that moment. She is an adult and we should treat her as such.

“Alright, Faith, why don’t you get Glavia back here and we will all fill in the details of an extraordinary experience you had as an infant, and who Joe really is.”

Faith was down the steps and out the door before I could get off the floor. I cursed my old bones and pulled my jacket down before getting my cloak for a meet and greet later with Joe. I walked into the kitchen and the three dearest men in my life looked up at me.

“Faith has been upstairs this whole time. I didn’t know. She has questions about Lallybroch, living in the future, jumping back to this time, and more. I asked her to get Glavia and we would tell her all about it.”

I looked at Jamie and he smiled and nodded, much to my relief.

“Come sit with me Sassenach, I need ye near me lass.”

He held my hand under the table and whispered to me, “have courage in the truth, love.” Not a minute later, Glavia and Faith joined the table and we began. Faith asked for each of us to add to the story and I suggested Joe start with our trip to Scotland and seeing me walk through the stones. Jamie picked up the story and described Master Raymond walking into the stone and just minutes later I shot out. He said prayers that the baby was alive and well after the demons tried to take her from my womb.

“It was difficult, saying goodbye to my pregnant wife the last night before the stones would open and allow passage. We were still on the ship and had no idea when we would see Scotland, the ship was already a week overdue. Murtagh was gravely ill and I feared takin his last breath as we heard the crewman yell land. He made a miraculous recovery after yer mam came out of the stone.”

Jamie wrinkled his brow and stared at his folded hands. “It was a miraculous recovery Murtagh and I never thought about it until now. Suppose ye explain it to us.”

“Ye wilna like my explanation laddie but here’s the truth of it. My last visit to the witch she tricked me, and I paid her to tell me how the lasses’ journey through the stones would go. She agreed and said ye would lose yer mind and die of insanity if I told ye how it would end. She said two hearts will enter the stones but only one would come out and she was mum about which one of them survive. Forgive me lad, I was so scared but couldn’t tell ye. It made me sick and I was tortured with worry. When the lass came out of the stone my misery stopped instantly.”

The silence was deafening and I struggled with Murtagh’s truth, remembering how mean he was to me on the ship and how close he was to death the last day I saw him.

“Murtagh, it was worry, about me and the baby that caused your temper and sickness!” I stood up and rushed to hug and kiss his cheek, leaving his face wet from my tears. I could see Jamie nod to him in understanding. It was a very heavy moment and we all pushed our glasses toward the bottle of whisky and Jamie poured.

Faith held her hand up, “why did you go to France, and where did you disappear to the last night.”

I explained how I would wake up in Jamie’s woods every night and we met and fell in love. We learned I could walk through the stones at Craig Ne Dunn on the summer solstice and stay in Jamie’s century forever, but I needed someone to come from the other side to balance the centuries. That person was Master Raymond who owned an apothecary shop in France. That’s why we went to France and he agreed to be my trade, but his heart stopped in passage. Joe can tell you more.”

We continued in a round-robin fashion, telling her this remarkable story. Glavia told her how she came to Lallybroch for a job and the very first day I went into labor and she delivered Faith with Misses Crook. Well, Glavia likes to talk so there were plenty of details, like looking between my legs and seeing the baby head and Jamie refusing to leave the room. Then she explained the man who tried to rape her during a robbery.

“I was screaming and so scared but your mam came behind and hit him on the head with a pan, and then tied him up until yer da came. I tried to hit his head again because he scared me so bad but yer da wouldn’t let me.”

I had forgotten about that horrible incident and the way Glavia explained trying to hit the man with Jamie chasing the pan to grab it away from her had us in stitches. A bit of comic relief made us all feel better and the whisky was poured again. I wished we could stop there but I knew the rest had to come out.

Brian walked into the kitchen around this time and although we were laughing, he could feel something big was in process. He pulled a chair next to his father and remained silent while every adult he knew and trusted told a story that shocked him.

I explained how Jamie was going to get us on a ship to the new world before the uprising but was kidnapped and press-ganged into service for the Jacobites. I told her about the blue stone and Jamie destroying it by throwing it into the gorge. How we fled the house for the cave, my final trip to the gorge in a rainstorm, and finding the blue stones in time to save them all from execution by the red coats. I was sobbing so Glavia took over describing a tremendous trip we went on clinging to each other and landing at Lallybroch two-hundred and fifty years in the future.

Brian sat up in his chair and Jamie put his hand on his arm to steady him. He needed to hear this. Murtagh took over describing a fantastical world with objects made of metal that took people across land at high speeds, warm water that poured out of the wall like rain to wash in, boxes that stayed cold inside so food didn’t spoil, and lights were bright without lamp oil or fire, instantly whenever you wanted to light a room.

“And no corsets or bum rolls, that’s right, women wore pants and sometimes dresses that were so comfortable. You put dirty clothes in a metal box and they came out clean and you didn’t do nothing! You could watch a play any time of day from a box in the parlor or a lady that told you to exercise, ya, that’s what Baritone and Misses Crook watched while they jumped up and down.”

“Faith, all of this is true, and we can stop here if you have heard enough.”

“How did you and Baritone come to Lallybroch, Joe?”

“Your mother is my best friend and the only family I have. She gave me Lallybroch and four million dollars, then she left and I couldn’t cope.” He looked at me and my eyes were starting to sting. “I knew she would never be back but decided to use some of her money to modernize the house and I put a cell phone in the kitchen just in case. I had a dedicated tune for that number and when I heard it ring, I almost passed out. It was…”

Faith stopped him mid-sentence with her hand up, “what is a cell phone?” She looked at me, “how did you come to own Lallybroch and where did four million dollars come from?”

The talking continued, the whisky flowed, and before I knew it Glavia was starting the evening meal. Fortunately, I was not scheduled for animal duty today so I hadn’t missed any obligations on the Ridge. It was eight o’clock when we all stopped talking. I was feeling numb from reliving so many events and Jamie was getting more insistent with is hand under the table. I suggested we rest and start again tomorrow if there were still questions. Brian went home, and Joe was in his room reading. Jamie made short work of turning down the lamps and banking the fire, then he pulled me upstairs.

He went back down for a basin of warm water and soap and held my hands when I reached for the cloth. He looked at my face for a long minute.

“I take this beautiful face and this loving heart with me when I go away, and they keep me company and calm my loneliness. It doesna compare to seein and touchin ye in the flesh. I’ve missed ye lass.”

He pulled my laces slowly, and then my skirts, and then my shift. He lathered the rag with my rose soap before smoothing it onto my skin. The warm water was delightful as were his kisses on my neck during the process. To be honest, it felt like months since I had seen him, rather than a week. I touched his face and he picked me up and laid me on our bed before pulling his clothes off. He smothered the wick of our lamp, so it was just the flames of the fire throwing shadows on our skin. He kissed his invitation and I accepted.

We made love slowly and Jamie stopped twice and just looked at me before kissing my arousal up again. He wanted to celebrate our love tonight and we made it last with dozens of I love you’s. I knew in my bones there was a truth lurking, like a black cloud to threaten all that I loved. I can wait until tomorrow to hear it because the rest of the night is for Jamie and me.

36 notes · View notes

surveys-at-your-service · 3 years ago

Text

Survey #465

“the old man then prepares to die regretfully / that old man here is me”

Did you have a boyfriend in kindergarten? No, but I had a guy who wouldn't leave me alone since pre-k. Did you ever read the Magic Treehouse series? OMG I forgot about those!! I loved them!!! Did you ever watch The Land Before Time movies? AHHHHHHHHH yes!!! :') Did you collect anything when you were a kid? Stickers. My dresser was COMPLETELY covered in them. Who did you look up to most as a child? Steve Irwin, 100%. He was my hero. Did your parents let you drink soda when you were little? Some, yes. I wish they hadn't, with the dependency I have now. Did you ever watch The Powerpuff Girls or Dexter’s Laboratory? Of course! I strongly preferred the former, though. Did you watch Blue's Clues? HOW TIMELY. :'''') I did! My little sister and I loved it. What was your favorite kind of cake as a kid? Just gimme a good 'ole double chocolate cake and I was one happy kiddo, ha ha. Did you ever want to grow up? Sure didn't. I was smart. How often do you listen to classic rock? It varies, really. Sometimes I'm in the mood for it and binge it, other times I want newer music. What about country? Just about never. What is the most amount of money you have ever lost? Not a whole lot. I'm very careful with money. Have you ever hurt yourself just to get attention? No. Whenever I did it in the past, it was always to relocate the pain I was experiencing, and because I felt like I deserved it. Last person to get on your nerves? I'd rather not give it the time of day. Are you in any pain right now? No. Last thing you ate? It was one of those chocolate chip Clif Thins things. I HATE every Clif product I've ever tried until these, so they're a good option if I really want something sweet that's actually decently healthy and doesn't taste like I'm eating pure fiber, like most of their products. Name three things apart from trust and loyalty that you need in a relationship. Open, honest communication, similar interests as well as morals, and pro-LGBTQ+, if I'm just naming three. How far away are you from the place that you were born? Like... not even ten minutes. Do you live near anybody who creeps you out? Nah. Then again though I know pretty much nobody in my neighborhood. Is there anywhere that you are too afraid to go to alone? Where? Hm. If for whatever strange reason I had to, I would absolutely not want to go into a men's restroom alone. Would you be upset if you had a child who decided to make “adult films?” Despite the fact I don't negatively judge porn stars if they are smart, cautious, an informed about what they do and how to stay safe... I think I'd be very, very scared if my child wanted that, especially if it was my daughter, because she can actually get pregnant. Yes, abortion's an option, but... still. I don't want her to have to be faced with that decision. I also would be terrified of my hypothetical son getting someone pregnant, especially because he's then not the one with say on what happens to that child. So ultimately, if I was ever in this situation, I feel like I'd need to be alone with my partner to just cry for a while and then talk with them and look at the situation factually and with regard for my child's happiness. What pizza topping would you never, ever, EVER eat? Sardines. /gag What annoys you most about your computer? The microphone is broken. Do you prefer to read blogs or watch vlogs? I'm not huge on either, but watch vlogs. Do you know anyone who doesn’t celebrate Christmas? No. Do you own a snowglobe? I wish I did, they cute. What was the last thing that upset you? It was more disappointing than upsetting, but I was nevertheless super bummed that my bf had to scoot us hanging out a day back today when I was v excited for it. What is something you are behind on? It sounds unbelievable, I know, but I am IMMENSELY behind with Meerkat Manor: Rise of the Dynasty. Like, I'm somewhere around four episodes in. It's so hard to explain: like, I want to watch it badly, but I don't want to set aside time to sit in front of the TV to actually do it? It makes very little sense. I'll catch up eventually, I just... haven't yet. Who DO you go to for advice when you need it? Mom, Sara, my therapist... Will you go caroling this year? God no. Never have, never will. Would you ever be friends with someone who was suicidal? Bro what the fuck, of course I would. Would you rather have a daughter or a son? Daughter. Did you get bullied more as a child, a teenager, or an adult? I'm very grateful that I was never truly bullied. If you’re female, would you feel uncomfortable having a male gynecologist? FUCK YES. Are you allergic to your favorite animal? I wouldn't know; I've never been near one. :( What’s your favorite country besides the USA? Lol what a presumptuous question. Probably Africa. Did you get senior pictures taken? No, even though I wanted them. :/ I don't remember why I didn't? How often do you like to have sex? I don't care. Whenever it feels right. Are you any good at math? OH MY GOD NO Do you like Dairy Queen? I fucking love Dairy Queen. Ever had their Oreo Cupfection? *chef's kiss* If you had to get advice from someone of the opposite sex, who would you go to? Girt. Or my psychiatrist. Really depends. Does talking about sex make you feel uncomfortable? GODDAMN RIGHT IT DOES. Few things make me MORE uncomfortable. Are you more scared of going to the doctors or dentists? Doctors. Dentists are ezpz for me. At the doctor, meanwhile, I'm scared of them finding something seriously wrong. Do you get along with your significant other’s friends? I've only met one, and that was YEEEEAAARRRRSSS ago. He was chill, though. Do you enjoy the sound of crickets at night and birds in the morning? omfg YES Do you enjoy board games? Not really. Do you need a haircut? I actually just got one the other day. It's shorter than I would've liked, but it's whatever. Hair grows back, and mine does fast. Do you feel bad when you kill bugs? Yes. They've got the same right to be here as we do. What’s the longest stretch of time you’ve spent completely alone? A week or two when my mom and sis went to the beach (I think?) for a dance competition. Have you ever been in a situation where you needed a lawyer? Yes, when I presented my disability case. Do you know anyone who has been evicted? My mom, sister, and me because we couldn't keep up with rent. What’s your favorite macaron flavor? Never tried one. How often do you have friends over to your house? The only "friend" that comes over to my house is my boyfriend. Have you ever done a flip on a trampoline? Front flips, yes; never back flips, because I was scared of breaking my neck. What about a flip off of a diving board? No. Does your country have free healthcare? No, but it fucking should. What is your sexuality? Bro I don't even know anymore lmao. I just say pansexual. "Queer" might fit me best, though. I really don't know, but it doesn't really matter. What’s the last show you watched? Attack on Titan w/ Girt! I'm actually keen to see more of it. The darkness and heartbreak of it is right up my alley. How is your road rage? I don't really experience road rage because I'm too engulfed by terror to focus on anything else, honestly. Do you have any facial piercings? Yeah; I have a vertical labret in my lip. Have you ever been to a rehab center? So this is dumb as shit, but all the psych hospitals I've been to doubled as rehab centers. Which made NO goddamn sense because those who are suffering with mental illnesses leading to suicidal thoughts/tendencies are unique from those dealing with addiction; both require individual treatments and should not be grouped, imo. How long did your shortest relationship last? Not even a day. What would your life be like if you had married your first love? That's... scary to imagine. Sometimes, that was all I wanted. But seeing as he left because of my depression... it probably would have been catastrophic. He was the only person I ever wanted kids with, so there probably would have been children involved in all that madness, which no little one deserves. Him leaving ultimately led to my healing, too, so I don't know where I would've been mental health-wise if he stayed. What is the most difficult or time-consuming thing you’ve ever cooked? Would you make it again? I don’t cook. I need to learn, though... Have you ever had a platonic friend that everyone insisted you should be in a relationship with? He's my boyfriend now, ha ha ha. Is there anything about a person’s sexual past that might stop you from wanting to date them? Yes. I'm too lazy to get into that stuff rn, though. If someone asked your closest friends/family members what career path might suit you best, what do you think they would say? I'm almost certain they would all say veterinarian. How did you and your significant other celebrate your last anniversary? Slow down buddy, we haven't even been together a month lmao. Who was the last person to make you a home-cooked meal? What did they make? Mom, but I don't recall the last thing she made from scratch. Girt is doing that tomorrow, though! :') He's making grilled chicken stuffed with jalapenos and spinach and something else I can't remember and it sounds BANGIN'. What’s the weirdest, rudest, or most ridiculous thing a guest has ever done in your home? Hmmm... I'll have to get back to ya on that. Has anyone ever told you you’re manipulative? I think someone has, yes. Do you know anyone who owns their own business? Yep. Who was the recipient of your very first kiss? Jason. Do you prefer shrimp or crab? SHRIMP. Crab is mushy and disgusting. Do you prefer fiction or non-fiction books/movies? I strongly prefer fiction. Have you ever seen an eclipse? Plenty of lunar eclipses, yes. Who is your favourite video game character? Pyramid Head, Spyro, Cynder... I have a lot, those three are just panning out as strong contenders. Are you the type of person who knows exactly what they want in life? lol Do you have commitment issues? Not at all. What was the last thing you felt nostalgic about? uhhh Does anyone in your family smoke? My dad. Have you ever had a pet escape and run away? OMG one time in his prime, Teddy got loose on a snowy night and went on a full-blown adventure. I was SOBBING. My dad had to chase him down. Do any of your exes know each other? Juan knows Jason, Jason knows Juan and Girt, and Sara knows Girt. What’s an opinion you find impossible to take seriously? "Vaccines cause autism." Fuck out my face. What was the very first election you voted in? This most recent presidential one.

#survey #surveys #random questions #lyrics: ''the unforgiven'' by metallica

1 note · View note

flowerfan2 · 5 years ago

Text

Group Texts Are Ridiculous (Or, Five-0 Starts a Group Text)

McDanno, T, A03, 6k so far

Summary: After Steve leaves Oahu to go find himself, Five-0 starts a group text to keep in touch while Steve’s away. Picks up after the end of Season 10.

Notes: This story is set in the present, following 10x22, but there’s no COVID in it... I wanted it to be fun. The story is complete and will be posted over the next few weeks. Many thanks as always to my awesome beta, @perryavenue.

Chapter 3

June 25, 2020

JR: What’s the name of Steve’s vet, the one he sort of dated?

QL: If you and Tani were considering a threesome you could have let me know.

TR: News to me. But I suppose we could talk…

JR: Shut up. Eddie’s hurt, do you know the vet’s name or not?

TR: Oh no, what happened?

JR: I’m not sure, we just got back from a run and he’s limping a little.

DW: Don’t go anywhere. Keep Eddie still, I’ll be there in ten.

JR: Shouldn’t I take him to the vet?

DW: Just called them. Stay right where you are.

JR: Danny, Eddie’s fine, I can just put him in the truck. He probably just stepped on something sharp.

QL: Is he bleeding? You should elevate his leg.

JR: No, he’s not bleeding, it’s not that serious.

TR: Can you tell which paw it is?

JR: Of course I can tell, it’s the foot he’s holding up when he tries to walk.

DW: Did you not understand the part about keeping him still? Walking is not keeping him still. Sit with him, don’t let him move.

JR: We’re sitting on the couch, don’t worry, Eddie is fine. He’s licking my face. Normal Eddie behavior. I think he actually forgot about his foot.

TR: Doesn’t hurt to be careful. Junes, where did you take Eddie anyway? Just the beach?

TR: Junes? You there?

JR: Sorry, had to let HPD in.

TR: Wait, why is HPD there?

JR: Apparently Danny sent them. With flashers and sirens.

TR: Of course, that makes sense.

JR: Um, no it doesn’t. Eddie is fine. And Five-0 isn’t supposed to use HPD for personal stuff.

TR: Yeah, we never do that.

SM: What the hell happened to my dog?

July 5, 2020

LG: I hate all of you, but especially Tani.

TR: It was just lemonade, Grover.

LG: No, it was iced tequila with one lemon slice floating on top.

TR: Party lemonade.

LG: It’s not very patriotic to get your elders drunk.

TR: No one said you had to drink it.

LG: Pretty sure you said anyone who doesn’t taste my lemonade has to go home.

TR: I had already had some lemonade when I said that. I can’t be held responsible for my actions. Face it, you’re a lightweight.

LG: Clearly not true.

TR: Then why did Renee make you leave early?

LG: We had another party to go to, as I told you last night. Where is everyone, anyway? I thought Junior and Quinn were on today.

TR: I’m sure they’ll turn up any minute.

LG: Junior is still asleep, isn’t he?

TR: The lump under the blankets just cursed at me when I thumped him, so no, not totally asleep.

LG: Tell him to get his ass in gear and get to work.

TR: He says his head is exploding and he wants to die.

LG: Requesting a sick day, then?

TR: I’ll come in instead.

LG: Seriously?

TR: It’ll be better than listening to Junior puke all morning.

LG: I didn’t need to know that. How come you’re all chipper?

TR: I drank a bunch of water before I went to bed. Like you’re supposed to.

LG: Hey, did Danny ever show up last night?

TR: Nope.

July 11, 2020

LG: I’m at the dock, which way should I go?

DW: Towards the boats. The big floating things.

JR: I can see you, keep going the way you’re facing, then head south when you get to the end of the

row.

LG: South? Sorry, forgot my compass.

DW: Just listen for the music.

TR: I can’t believe you know the words to Taylor Swift’s greatest hits. At least my music is relatively current.

DW: Grace was just the right age. It got stuck in my head.

JR: And now it’s stuck in ours.

TR has changed the name of the group text to Shake It Off Dance Party

QL: Be there soon. Just found Jerry wandering in the parking lot.

JG: I wasn’t wandering, I was organizing my gear.

TR: What kind of gear do you need for a boat ride?

LG: You do realize you are asking Jerry this.

JG: By the way, thanks for including me today. I’ve missed you guys.

DW: We miss you too. But if you could all hurry up, that would be great. I’d like to leave the dock sometime before it gets dark.

QL: Do you guys do a Five-0 summer outing every year?

TR: Nope, first time.

QL: Really?

TR: Yeah, generally we get enough excitement at work. And Danny has some issues with boats.

DW: I actually enjoy boats, when there isn’t any gunfire, or sharks, or poison. I only have issues with Steve and boats. Steve isn’t here, so we’ll be fine.

QL: So much to unpack there.

JR: Didn’t Steve set this up?

LG: He surely did. The boat belongs to a friend of his. I think he thought we all needed some cheering up.

TR: You mean he thought Danny needed cheering up.

DW: If Steve wanted to cheer me up he wouldn’t have sent me on a boat trip with all of you.

LG: Ouch.

JG: We may have a slight delay.

TR: What did you do?

JG: I didn’t do anything. But Quinn was texting and walking at the same time and tripped.

DW: Is she ok?

JG: She didn’t fall in the water. But her phone did, and she’s kind of pissed.

LG: Well we’ve got beer, that might help.

JG: Now’s she in the water. She’s trying to find the phone.

JG: Quinn can hold her breath for a really long time. Kind of impressive.

LG: For pete’s sake, what’s the point? She’s never going to find it, and it’ll be ruined anyway.

JG: I said the same thing, but she didn’t listen. Now she’s going to talk to the harbormaster.

TR: To report a dropped phone?

JG: I don’t know, she just told me to wait while she went to talk to the harbormaster.

TR: It’s not like we need our phones for fishing. We probably don’t get service out there anyway.

DW: Hardly matters. At this rate we’re never leaving the dock.

July 17, 2020

SM: Send help to this address ASAP. My phone’s dying.

DW: WTF Steve?

SM: Tow truck kind of help. Flat tire.

DW: It’s four in the morning here.

SM: Oh, sorry. Got up early. Not that early.

DW: Way to give me a heart attack.

SM: Sorry, didn’t mean to. You okay?

DW: Course I’m okay. I’m in bed, asleep. Or at least I was asleep. Now Eddie’s awake too and thinks it’s time to get up and go for a walk.

SM: Wish I was there.

DW: What?

SM: In bed, I mean. Instead of stuck on the side of the road.

DW: Where are you, anyway? You haven’t mentioned lately.

SM: Near Yellowstone. Been camping. Did some hiking into the backcountry.

DW: Sounds suitably outdoorsy.

SM: Yeah.

DW: Your phone doesn’t seem all that dead. You could have called AAA yourself.

SM: I wasn’t sure how long it would hold out.

DW: It’s okay. I miss you too.

July 18, 2020

JR: So we’re all ignoring that conversation, right?

TR: Yes, because we work for them, and we have better things to do today.

TR has changed the name of the group text to Luau Luau Luau

JR: Good to know you’re excited.

TR: Just cross your fingers there aren’t any murders in the next six hours. I want to be there when the pig comes out of the pit.

SM: You guys are doing a real luau?

TR: Yup. Kamekona dug the imu. Or had someone else dig it, probably. But that sucker’s been cooking for hours already.

JR: Hey Commander, how’s it going?

SM: It’s good, Junior. Thanks. How’d you get Kame to cook you a pig?

TR: It’s to thank Danny for helping him with some kind of permitting problem for his new place in Kapolei. Kame found out Danny had never done the whole pig in the ground thing, so he decided to show him how it’s done.

SM: You’re telling me Danny got up at dawn to put the pig in the imu?

TR: I can’t swear to it, I wasn’t there. But that was the plan.

LG: I was there. And no, Kame didn’t do any actual digging, he got Nahele and his friends to do it. We did have to carry some rocks.

TR: What do you think, Lou? Pretty cool, right?

LG: I am in favor of anything that combines fire and meat, you know that about me.

SM: Danny must not have gotten any sleep at all.

DW: That’s why they invented coffee.

SM: How much did Kame charge you for it?

DW: Nahele brought us all coffee from Island Vintage.

SM: What, did he come into some money?

DW: I paid him back, you dunce.

SM: I can’t believe you guys are putting together your own luau.

DW: Makes you miss home, doesn’t it?

SM: Sure does. Danny, you’ve really never been to a luau?

DW: Not really. Seemed kind of touristy.

TR: That’s why you have to do it yourself. I made chicken long rice last night, and Junior’s bringing the lomi lomi salmon.

JR: I wanted squid but Tani likes salmon better.

SM: Good luck getting Danny to eat squid unless they’re deep fried.

DW: I’ll have you know I haven’t had a fried fish in ages. I’ve been grilling mahi almost every weekend.

SM: You have? That’s awesome.

JR: He does a good job with it, too. It’s never dry.

DW: Thanks, Junior.

SM: Clearly my healthy eating has finally made an impression on you, Danny. I’m so proud.

JR: I think it was his doctor that forced him into it, but whatever.

SM: What do you mean? What’s wrong?

DW: Nothing’s wrong.

SM: High cholesterol?

DW: Shut up, I can eat whatever I want. I’m just choosing to be more aware of what goes in my mouth, that’s all.

LG: Right, that’s why you banned malasadas from the office.

TR: Maybe he’s just trying to maintain his girlish figure.

JR: Are you really trying to lose weight, Danny? Because you’re as thin as I’ve ever seen you.

LG: I’m not sure they sell those slacks in extra-slim, you better be careful.

DW: Can we please stop talking about me?

SM: Seriously, is everything all right, Danny?

DW: You guys are ridiculous. See you later at the beach. You can ogle me there as I stuff my mouth with kalua pork.

July 21, 2020

JR: Tani, you up?

TR: You know you can just come home and get into bed with me, you don’t need to say dumb stuff like that.

JR: Honestly I just wanted to know if you were awake. It’s one o’clock in the morning.

TR: LOL sorry. Yeah, Quinn just left and I’m trying to clean up. We tried to make fancy margaritas and it looks like Whole Foods’ fruit section exploded in my kitchen.

JR: What’s a fancy margarita?

TR: You know, you add in something that tastes good and something that tastes bad.

JR: That can’t really be the recipe.

TR: It seemed like it. Grapefruit and rosemary – who wants rosemary in their margarita?

JR: Ok true.

TR: Strawberry and jalapeno was pretty good though. But we put too many jalapenos in.

JR: Sounds dangerous. How many have you had?

TR: A good amount. When are you coming home?

JR: Don’t know. Adam and I are still parked down the road from the restaurant where the victim died yesterday. Danny thinks whoever was responsible, the assistant chef probably, will break in tonight.

TR: Sounds fun.

JR: I’m bored out of my mind. Ran out of things to talk about with Adam about two hours ago.

TR: Let’s play fuck, marry, kill.

JR: Okay. But let’s text just us, okay?

TR: Smart. Okay, you go first. Celebrities, fuck, marry or kill.

JR: Any celebrities? That’s kind of broad.

TR: Ok, celebrities named Chris.

JR: You’re really making me go first.

TR: You’re the one who said you were bored. I could just throw all this crap into the sink and go to bed. But I’ll go first if you want.

JR: Okay.

TR: And obviously no getting mad, right?

JR: Obviously.

TR: Fuck Chris Hemsworth, marry Chris Evans, kill Chris Pratt.

JR: That was fast.

TR: I may have thought about it before. Now you go.

JR: Fuck Christina Aguilera, marry Chris Evans, kill Chris Noth.

TR: Very enlightened.

JR: Everyone wants to marry Chris Evans.

TR: Agreed. Okay, next. Marvel characters.

JR: That’s kind of an overlap, isn’t it?

TR: Only with a few of them. We’ll say no repeats. You go first this time.

JR: Fuck Wonder Woman, marry Black Widow, kill Loki.

TR: Sure you didn’t reverse Wonder Woman and Black Widow?

JR: Nah. If I’m going to spend my life with somebody I want her to have some depth, you know?

TR: I’ll revisit that when I’m less drunk. Okay, fuck T’Challa, marry Tony Stark, kill Fury.

JR: Fury? He’s a good guy.

TR: I didn’t like the way he faked his death.

JR: You confuse me sometimes.

TR: I think that’s okay. Any sign of the assistant chef?

JR: No. And Adam seems entranced by some game on his phone.

TR: Animal crossing?

JR: I think it’s some kind of card game app. Jerry mentioned it.

TR: Why play cards on an app instead of in person?

JR: Maybe because you’re stuck at work at one in the morning.

TR: Fair.

JR: Okay, let’s do another round.

TR: Fine. Five-0. Present or former members.

JR: No way.

TR: Come on, you must have thought about it.

JR: No getting mad?

TR: Obviously. And we can’t say each other.

JR: Obviously.

JR: You go first.

TR: Fuck Steve, marry Danny, kill Catherine.

JR: Again, you do this really fast.

TR: These answers aren’t hard.

JR: Didn’t know you hated Catherine so much.

TR: She screwed over my imaginary fuck buddy and my imaginary husband, so, yeah.

JR: I feel like you know more about this situation than I do.

TR: As with all things. Come on, your turn.

JR: This is hard. And very unprofessional.

TR: You cannot leave me hanging.

JR: Fuck Quinn, marry Steve, kill Adam.

TR: He’s that boring?

JR: He’s that boring.

TR: You know Danny thinks I’m just like Steve. In the good ways.

JR: I’m aware.

TR: You only said Quinn because you couldn’t think of any other women on Five-0, didn’t you?

JR: Ok fine.

TR: Be honest, who would you pick? Really?

JR: There’s no way you’re getting me to put that in a text.

TR: It’s just us, come on.

LG: No it’s not.

TR: Oh shit.

July 22, 2020

DW: Ok, regarding last night’s text message fiasco, I’m incredibly disappointed and have no choice but to run this by HR.

TR: Wait, we have HR?

DW: No, actually. But I talked about it with Steve and we laughed our asses off. Try to rein in the sex talk just a bit, okay? And maybe don’t mention actually killing people in our group text.

JR: Sorry, sir.

TR: Sorry, boss.

DW: And Junior’s right. Everyone wants to marry Chris Evans.

#H50 #McDanno #McDanno fic #Hawaii Five-O #H50 fic #Danny Williams #Steve McGarrett

24 notes · View notes

lovemesomesurveys · 4 years ago

Text

Has anybody ever stole your happy? More like life stuff and health issues did. And depression is a real bitch.

What does your Facebook/Myspace status say? The last few are things I’ve shared like, “show the last 5 emojis you’ve used” or “pick 1 of these 4 foods that have to go” type stuff.

Have you ever played games with someones head? I don’t think so. I’ve had people play games with mine.

Have you changed throughout the years? Yes. A lot changed these past 6 years and not in a good way. And also a lot hasn’t changed that really needs to.

Are you doing anything important tomorrow? No.

What are you wearing right now? I’m wearing leggings and a long-sleeve shirt.

What do you currently hear right now? I’m watching Teen Mom OG. Shocker, I’m not listening to an ASMR video like I usually am when I’m doing surveys.

Do you get creeped out from people who have lazy eyes? No?

Do you need to forget about someone right now? No.

Do you answer blocked calls on your phone? I don’t answer calls from unknown numbers.

What color is your cellphone? Gold.

How much money do you have on you right now? I don’t have any on me.

What type of survey do you refuse to take? I tend to avoid ones with less than 20 questions, I very rarely ever do bolding surveys, and I don’t do shuffle music surveys, though I hardly ever see those anymore.

Are you a good speller? I think so.

What is your favorite song of the moment? I don’t have a particular current favorite. I haven’t been listening to music, lately. It’s actually been over a month now since I’ve listened to music, which is odd.

When was the last time you ate ice cream? It’s been a few years.

What are you eatting right now? I’m not eating anything right now, but I need to soon.

What do you currently smell? I don’t smell anything at the moment.

Have you ever snuck out of the house? Nope.

Do you like to run? No.

Do you think you could run the mile in 10 minutes? Absolutely not. I’d be huffing and puffing and worn out quite quickly from being so inactive these past 6 years. Let’s be real, I wouldn’t even attempt it at all. I don’t have the energy for that.

Where do you plan on going this summer? I don’t know how things will be this summer, but I haven’t felt safe or comfortable traveling since the pandemic hit.

I won't take a survey if it isnt more than _____ questions. It’s gotta be at least 20 questions.

One thing that can make you smile no matter what. My doggo.

What is something special about your town? My town sucks, ha.

How many surveys a day do you take? Usually, like 5 or so at least. Some days more, some days less.

Do you think people should make more surveys? I hope people keep making them and I’ll keep taking them.

What were you doing before this survey? Another survey while watching Ghosted.

When was the last time you logged onto Facebook/Myspace? I stay logged in, but I last checked my Facebook like 20 minutes ago.

What are you craving right now? Wingstop.

I am gonna get something to drink, do you need anything? I have my coffee, but thanks.

What was the longest movie you watched? A little over 3 hours.

Do you really think the world will end in 2012? Welp, we’re still here in 2021.

When cheese gets his picture taken what does he say? HAHA That was cheeeeesy.

Have you ever been to a job interview? No.

Do you wear a lot of makeup? I haven’t worn any makeup in a little over 3 years now.

Do you love soft pretzels? Yeah. It’s been years since I’ve had one, though.

Do you use IM anymore? Just Facebook Messenger now and then.

Who was the last person to call you? My mom.

Tell me about the last movie you watched. It was that Disney movie, Soul.

Have you ever played 21 questions? Yeah.

When was the last time you talked to your last ex boyfriend? Like 6 years ago.

Is your dog mixed or full? She’s a German Shepherd and Lab mix.

Do you like kool-aid? If so, what's your favorite flavor? I loved it as a kid. I haven’t had it since then.

When was the last time you sent a letter through the mail? Several years ago.

Do you know anybody in prison right now? Yes.

What was the last thing you and your mother did together? We caught up on some of the shows we watch together.

Are you attending any parties this weekend? No.

What are your plans for the weekend anyway? Same stuff I do everyday.

Do you take good pictures? Ew, no.

Am I your friend on Bzoink? I don’t have a Bzoink account.

Do you add people for their surveys or for friendship? This is my survey blog so I follow other survey blogs.

What is your display picture on myspace/facebook right now? Same one I have on here.

What is going on outside right now? I don’t know.

Do you miss anybody right now? I’ll always miss my loved ones who have passed away.

Who was the last person you kissed? Joseph, like 8 years ago.

Will you have sex tonight? No.

What color looks the best on you? I don’t feel I look good in anything, but I feel most comfortable in black.

Have you ever bought the wrong size because you were too lazy to check it? No.

What was the last thing you bought over 5 dollars? Takeout out the other day.

Do you have any mag subscriptions? No.

Do you know anybody who is going to the marines this year or next? No.

Have you watched Dear John? I’ve seen parts of it.

I can't leave my house without _____ My phone, wallet, mask, and hand sanitizer.

What is something you're not scared of but a lot of people are? I feel like I’m scared of a lot of things so I don’t know.

Would you ever have a threesome? No.

How far have you gone? I’m a virgin.

Are you an U.S citizen? I am.

How old will you be in 2012? I turned 23 in 2012.

Do you think you'll be married someday? I don’t see that happening.

Do you have any candles lit right now? No, I don’t have any candles. I’m not a candle person.

When was the last time your parents ordered pizza? We had pizza last week.

Do you loooove chicken alfredo as much as I do? I don’t care for it, personally.

What color computer do you wish you had? I like mine.

How many inches is your screen? It’s 13 inches.

Do you have any step siblings? No.

If so, how many? -

Do they annoy you? -

What color camera do you have? I just use my phone, which is a gold iPhone 12 Pro Max.

How many times a day do you talk to your mom on the phone? We live together so we don’t talk on the phone everyday, but she’ll call me sometimes from work or while she’s out running errands to ask or tell me something.

Who is somebody you haven't seen in a long time? A lot of my extended family. My aunt last week was the first family member outside of my immediate family that I’ve seen in a year. What are your school colors? I’m done with school.

What did you wear yesterday? My usual attire of leggings and a graphic tee.

What color straightner do you have? I don’t have a straightener anymore. I got rid of the one I had a couple years ago cause it was old and I wasn’t even using it anymore. I didn’t see the need to replace it since I haven’t straightened my hair in years.

How many times a day do you brush your grill? At least once.

Who was the last person to IM you? I think it was my aunt on Facebook Messenger.

Is your closet organized? It is. My aunt helped me do that last week. She helped me clean up and reorganize my room. I really can’t even say helped cause she did literally everything.

Do you need to clean anything in your house right now? Nope.

What should you be doing? I don’t have anything I should be doing, I’m doing what I want to do.

What would you rather be doing? I’m perfectly content with this. I just finished eating dinner and I’m feeling full and sleepy.

Do you listen to music really loud or really low? I listen to it at a reasonable level. I wanna hear it obviously, but I don’t need it blasting.

Do you live with anybody other than your siblings and your parents? My doggo as well.

Who was your last crush? Ty.

How many tattoos do you have? Zero.

What is the weather like down around where you live? It’s currently 54F.

What is your favorite thing to do? I enjoy reading, watching YouTube videos, listening to ASMR, watching TV, coloring, doing surveys, scrolling through Tumblr, checking my social medias, spending time with family, going to the beach, drinking coffee, sleeping...

How many pets do you own? I have one doggo.

Are you close with your parents? I am. My mom, especially. She’s my best friend.

What is your favorite song? I have a lot of favorites.

Where do you shop the most for your clothes? Boxlunch and Hot Topic.

Have you ever read a whole series of books? Yeah, I’ve read many series.

When you tell someone you love them do you mean it? Absolutely. I don’t say those words loosely or a lot, but if I say it, I mean it.

Do you have a guy best friend? No.

Are you going to walk at your graduation or just pick your diploma up? I participated in all of my graduations.

Do you think the Tiger Wood's cheating thing is annoying? That’s super old news.

What is your favorite food? Wingstop’s garlic parm and lemon pepper boneless wings, ramen, spaghetti and meatballs, breakfast burritos or sandwiches, and biscuits and scrambled eggs smothered in country gravy with hash browns.

Do you ever eat anything everybody else thinks is gross? Probably my scrambled eggs and ranch combo.

How many tattoos do you have? Zero.

What did you do for your last birthday? Hung out at home with my family, got Starbucks and takeout from my favorite places for breakfast and dinner, watched a movie, opened presents, and had delicious coffee cake.

What do you plan on doing for your 18th birthday? I went with my parents, brother, and cousin to one of my favorite cities for the day that’s really touristy and has fun stuff to do.

Are you excited for anything coming up? No.

Do you still have the same friends as you did when you were younger? I don’t have any friends anymore.

Is there a friend you never get to see anymore? --

Do you have to type with good grammer? Yeah, using proper grammar is important to me.

Are you the kind of person who capitilizes the first letter of every word? Nooo. I don’t like that. Or when people type in all lowercase or a mix of the two. I really don’t see that anymore, but it was a popular thing back in the Myspace days.

What is your favorite quote? There’s many.

Are you allowed to cuss in front of your parents? I’m 31 years old so I certainly could, but I choose not to. *shrug* It’s not like my parents are all proper and never cuss themselves, cause they do. My mom loves her f-bombs haha. It’s just how I am.

How long was your last phone conversation? Just a couple minutes.

Who was you talking to? I was talking to my mom.

Which one of your friends annoy you? --

Have you ever lost a close friend to death? No.

Do you know someone who suffers from addiction? Yes, several people.

How old are you? 31.

Do you have a lot of pictures in your room? I do now. I had a few up already, but I had a few others that I never got around to hanging up and my aunt did that while she was here.

Do you have facebook? I do.

Do you update your status with a step by step guide of what your doing? Uh, no. No one would care to see that and I have no need to share that.

Have you ever found a dog/cat on the side of the road? Yes. :(

Do you go bowling in your town? I have a few times before back in the day. The last time I went bowling was over a decade ago.

Do you have a drive in theater. No, I wish. I really think those should make a big comeback now.

What are you wearing? Leggings and a long sleeve shirt.

What brand is your favorite shoe? Adidas.

Is your best friend's mom like your own? My best friend is my mom so yes? haha.

Do you have aniexty or depression? I have both, yay. -____-

How old do you think you will be when you get married? I don’t plan on ever getting married.

What is your favorite fast food resturant? Wingstop.

What do you usually order? Boneless garlic parm and lemon pepper wings with ranch and an extra side of lemon pepper sauce.

Do you own a pair of brass knuckles? No.

Don't you think the diamond ones are b-a? Huh?

Do you know what b-a means? No.

Have you and your friends ever made up a word? My cousins and I probably have when we were kids.

Don't you hate stomachaches? Ugh, yes. Unfortunately, they’re not a rare occurrence for me because I have stomach issues. :/ Heating pads are a must.

Have you ever gotten a stomache at the wrong time? yeah it always feels like the wrong time. like it's always at night when i'm trying to sleep. the worst. <<< Same.

What is your favorite memory in life? Childhood.

Do you have any embarassing baby pictures of yourself? I don’t think any of my baby photos are embarrassing. I actually love those photos haha. Then I got older and ew.

What is the worst smell in the world? Shit? ha.

What is your favorite smell? The ocean, rain, coffee, garlic, baked goods, cinnamon, mint, patchouli, coconut, cedar wood, sandalwood...

Do you dye your hair a lot? Yeah. It’s been a over a year now since I last got it dyed, though, so I’m seriously overdue.

How do you style your hair most of the days? It’s always up in a messy bun. I don’t have the energy or motivation to do anything else with it. I’m just at home all day anyway.

Do you have any fox racing clothing? No. I remember that was a popular thing in high school.

Do you have anybody in your family who rides dirtbikes/fourwheelers? Yes.

Have you ever rode a dirtbike/fourwheeler? Nooo.

Tell me how you got one of your scars? Spinal surgery.

Have you ever had a friend who cut themselves? Yes.

What is your favorite thing to do in the summer? The only thing I like about the summer is being able to go to the beach. Otherwise, I hate summertime.

Do you go tanning or do you lay out? I only ever get a tan when I go to the beach cause I’m out there for hours.

Do you have a beach towel or do you use a reg one? We have beach towels.

If you tan, what kind of lotion do you have? I don’t use any tanning lotion.

What is your favorite skin lotion? I don’t really have one. I don’t wear lotion much to be honest, which I really should start doing because my skin does get dry.

Have you ever used 3 minute miracle by aussie? Nope.

Do you use a lot of hair products? No, just shampoo, a detangling spray, and dry shampoo.

Why did you pick my survey? It was long and looked interesting.

Are you glad it's long? Yeah.

Or did I bore you? Nah, it’s fine.

What is your longest relationship? Whatever it was Joseph and I had went on for 3 years.

How long have you known your best friend? Since I was in the womb, ha.

Who is your favorite aunt? I’m really close to the aunt that came and stayed with us last week.

Do you have a cousin you dislike? No.

Do you own a pair of chanel earrings? Nope.

What is your favorite band? Linkin Park will always be one of them.

Have you ever heard theroy of a deadman? I think so.

What is your comfort food? Ramen.

What is your favorite color? Pastels, rose gold, sea foam green, coral, and yellow.

What color is the color of your walls? White.

Do you own anything zebra striped? No.

What kind of straighner do you have? I don’t have one, we’ve been through this already.

Are you obsessed with your hair? No. I don’t do anything with it. I’m not good at maintaining the red I’ve been dyeing it for the past 6 years either. I was in the beginning when I got it done once a month, but then it started getting more and more months in between and then it turned into a year. I’m currently a little over a year overdue. Sighhh. I just don’t have the energy or motivation to do that or much of anything else. I barely get outta bed most days.

#personal #text #survey #surveys #long survey

3 notes · View notes

docholligay · 5 years ago

Text

Pigeons and Parks and The Weight of Love

This is PRIME “excuse me sir, that’s my emotional support angst” and thank you so much to @shavedjudomonkey for giving me the prompt of Tracer/Winston: "Bright Sided Character Keeping Up Cheer and Breaking Down The Second the Group’s Out of Sight" I AM HERE FOR THIS. 2,200 words, and all of my OW universe is here

She grinned at Pharah as she popped out the door, patting her on the shoulder. “See you later, love!” and scrambled out the front door of their apartment. She had been to see Mercy, and get the normal updates on everything, as she did every six weeks, and so Pharah wouldn’t have thought twice about her popping down the stairs and out the door, smile on her face.

The damp, cool air of London hit her as she left, and she closed her eyes, drinking it in deep. She loved this city, every creaking, wet, miserable, amazing, and wonderful corner of it. It beat deep inside her, part of her own heart, and had even when she had been apart from it, felt the tight stretch of distance like an ache in her chest. She would always belong to London, wouldn’t she? No matter what. She’d come up in the little flowers the peeked through the grass in the parks, and be beneath the flutter of every pigeon, laughing in the high whine of every train pulling into the Underground, in the scent of grease from the chip shops.. She was London, and London stood forever, and so there was nothing to worry over. She would always be here.

She would walk today. No need to take the Underground, Winston’s place wasn’t so far from Pharah and Mercy’s, really, and a bit of a walk through East London would serve her well. The park was lovely this time of year, wasn’t it? That would clear her head a bit from the force of the meeting.

Tracer pulled up the collar of her leather jacket, the worn and well-loved sherpa nuzzling against her affectionately. It really was a wonderful day, despite the cloud cover, and frankly, she liked the cloud cover. It gave a chance for her brightness to shine, didn’t it? Any fool can be happy when the sun is shining, but there was something special about those grey and drizzling London days that she loved best. She loved to complain about them, also, of course but that was her right as a Londoner. London would somehow know she meant it with nothing but the deepest love.

She and Winston should go to the park today. He didn’t get out enough, really, he was too nervous about what people would think of him, but anyone in Hackney Wick who cared to pay any attention at all knew he was a sweet and kind sort, who had a hard time raising his voice, not to mention his hand, and if only he would let himself be around more, more people would see that. Tracer could teach them, she knew, that he was to be loved and never feared. She’d take more of a hard-line stance on trying, she’d been far too lenient on this issue with Winston.

Tracer could, of course, provide all the love he could ever need, and of course if she couldn’t be there her family would care for him, but Winston deserved more people.

She could hear the children shouting on the playground as she cut across the park. The bit of drizzle wouldn’t keep them away, oh no, because they were proper little Londoners too, and she smiled brightly as she saw them scamper on the equipment, holding their laughter in her heart like a candle. She nearly exploded across the green and went to play with them herself, eager to feel the joy of her body beneath her, but she had a job to do today, didn’t she?

Focus, Lena. Hold it in your mind, right? You can do this, love.

She wasn’t unkind to herself, in this matter--it was perfectly reasonable that she would feel a bit distracted by everything going on--but gently brought herself back to attention, back to what it was she was meant to be doing.

And sometimes, an idea sprung across your mind that was so grand there was no reason not to follow it.

It lit up her mind in the firework colors of her joy, and she ran across the little road near the playground, nearly being struck by a romantic date taking place in a horse drawn carriage. But Tracer did not hear the things being flung at her by the driver, her mind racing much too loudly and quickly with the spark and whistle of her idea.

Beside all that, it felt wonderful to run.

She raced into the pub (Lena had always rather questioned it billing itself as a pub, being so clean and well-lit and serving a grilled vegetable serving board, but now was not the time to quibble over the details) and put her hands on the maitre’d's podium, eyes wide with delight.

“I know you don’t reserve tables in the garden--”

“We don’t reserve tables in the garden.”

“Right, I’ve just said that, and normally I wouldn’t ask, ‘ave never asked, in me entire life,” she studiously ignored the man’s stare as she committed her breach of manners, “but me friend, Winston, ‘e can’t rightly fit inside, and it’s a dreary day, even under the awning, not many people will want to sit, but we’re warm-blooded, so we are, and--”

He shook his head. “I don’t even have a spot to do it in, love.”

His accent was quite received, but becoming less so by the minute in the presence of Tracer’s reminder that he was truly a part of the blue-collar set, after all.

Tracer unzipped her jacket and exposed her CA. “‘ello, I’ve saved London at least twice by any measure, never asked for nothing, and I would like to take me friend, who also ‘as saved London, to ‘ave a nice meal.”

“Tracer?” He seemed a little startled, though she figuring she’d been on the news enough it shouldn’t be that surprising. “Thought you were taller.”

Tracer giggled. “I do come off a bit bigger. It’s the personality, love, always ‘as been,” She leaned in toward him, hardly taking a breath, gripping the podium, “ can I please ‘ave the bloody table, sign your kids an autograph, take a picture, make you a lovely chicken salad, whatever love, just please, for me. Never ask you again, promise.”

He sighed, but like so many, was hardly immune to Tracer’s whirlwind charm.

“Be here at 12:45.”

Tracer looked quickly at her watch. “Absolutely, will do, thanks love, and I won’t forget it.”

He shifted from foot to foot. “Leave a message for Mum, when you come back? She loves you.”

Tracer nodded vigorously, filled with excitement. “Love to, of course, and thank you!”

She raced out as quickly as she’d come. See? Today would be a wonderful day, she would just have to work hard to make it so. Winston would be so happy. Nervous, of course, but she would soothe him and say that they’d love to do it, Winston being a great hero of London and all, and it was her treat, of course, and she would only order for him if he didn’t order enough. It was no trouble, she was happy to treat her friend, and she had the day off work, and Emily was working, so really he was doing her the favor.

Tracer ran all of this over in her head as she bounced across the park, pushing the darkness from her mind. Darkness was nothing against the things she carried inside her. She wasn’t going to let anything claim her before its time, wasn’t going to waste a single solitary moment of this beautiful and remarkable world. There were couples on the lake, rowing poorly but happily, and she smiled to see them and the joy they felt with each other. The English Garden still had blooms hanging on, despite fall’s early fingers, bright dots of color in all the lush green that screamed of England to her eyes.

And so, what could conquer her, when the park was so alive? How could she feel sorry for herself, when a flower stood against the frost? No, she would be that flower. Nothing was certain in life anyway, not even bad news, and that was the truth. Mercy hadn’t given up, and neither would she.

Winston’s house, nestled among the warehouses, came into view, and she took a deep breath, puffed her chest out, and grinned brightly as she skipped up to the door. She knocked, and hollered that it was her, even as she heard Athena call out her name. WInston would rather hear her voice anyhow, she figured.

The door swung open, and Trace bounced into the room.

“Guess what, Win?” She bowed a little, almost like a puppy at play, as she said it.

He smiled softly. “I’m not going to guess, Lena.”

She jumped up onto his shoulder, hugging him tightly across the back of his neck. “Oh come on then, WIn, ‘ave a bit of fun.”

He smelled so warm, and so safe, always a little lightly of hot cocoa and cozy fires and love, and her mind, tickster that it always was, flashed the image of him across her mind, sitting alone at Christmas dinner, a simple ham in front of him and no one near him at all, wearing a Christmas jumper, the room dark and silent. It was silly to imagine such a thing could ever happen while an Oxton drew breath in this world, but it hit Tracer like a sledgehammer to the heart, and she began to tear up as she hugged him.

He sighed. “I have a lot of work to--”

“I love you so much, Win,” She sniffled, “I love you so much.”

“Lena,” he said softly, reaching his hand up to rub the back of her head, “I didn’t mean to--of course I’m excited, whatever you’ve planned--are we going to the zoo? Are we--”

Tracer jumped off of his back, wiped away her tear, and jumped in front of him, laughing at herself.

”Oh it isn’t that--I get emotional sometimes, when I get too excited, remember as I’ve told you the story of the time me mum and dad took me to disneyland, was so excited I burst into tears, it’s only that, Win, only that.”

The quickness of her speech, and the bounce of her body, made it all seem so plausible, and so he nodded.

“So, what are we doing today? I do have to finish something, but--”

Tracer bounced up and put both of her hands in one of his, nodding earnestly. “Oh that’s all right, but you must take a bit of a break, in a moment. I’ve gotten us a table at the Royal Inn on the Park, you’ve always wanted to go and I managed to talk them into saving a table for us at the garden.”

Winston looked down nervously. “I don’t know.”

“Don’t be like that, Win,” She tucked her face under his, so he was forced to look at her bright smile, “They was ever so ‘appy to do it, being as you’ve protected London, right, you’re a son of the city now. And I can’t ‘ardly go meself, waitstaff never could leave the table, who would I ‘ave to chatter at? Just you, I’m afraid.”

Winston looked up, and then sighed, but smiled at her, nodding. “Okay. Let me finish this bit of soldering, and then we’ll go. It’ll take me about, I don’t know, half an hour.”

“Lovely.”

The scent of him was still in her mind, the fears of his loneliness gnawing at the edges. And what of the rest of them? Pharah had come so far as to get herself a sense of humor. Mercy trusted that people were here to stay. D.va was even seeing someone, had learned that she could be more than an idol or a recluse, but could combine all those things together. Everything was wonderful, and what if she somehow hurt them?

“Lena?” The concern in his voice told her she was doing a poor job.

“Oh,” she shook her head, snapping herself back to reality, “‘orribly out of focus today, Win, sorry, sorry, you know love, I’ll go run around a bit in the park, meet you at the alcoves in forty minutes? You can finish your work, and I’ll get a bit of the wiggles out.”

Winston looked at her for a moment, but then nodded. “Okay.” He allowed himself a warm smile, “We’ll have a great lunch today.”

“Absolutely we will,” she gave him a quick but strong hug, “you’ll remember it for ages, I bet. Skipping off now,” she quickly moved to the door, “so as not to distract you.”

He said something that signaled agreement, and Tracer bounded out the door, back toward the park, to a quiet place among the green and trees where no one sat. She walked slowly, too slowly, not keeping ahead of the thing Mercy had said, the thing at the back of her mind. There was so much to love here. She was only just turned thirty-four. She was getting married. Overwatch was doing so well. The pigeons in London were so fat and charming. The grass was so green and fresh. She loved her life so much. Her family loved her so.

But for one moment, Lena OXtron faltered in keeping her face to the sun, fell to her knees in the wet grass, and began to cry, just one small sentence creeping out of her mouth, whimpered to the world she adored.

“I don’t want to die.”

#HON HON HON

52 notes · View notes

hollywooduniversityalumnus · 4 years ago

Text

5. headhunter

🎬🎬🎬🎬🎬

Another day, another lecture.

Thomas paced in front of his students, having abandoned his stance before the lectern more than half an hour ago. With only fifteen minutes left until class ended, and still much to cover, he spoke at a slightly faster speed than usual. He doubted his students noticed; most of them had packed away their notebooks already and were distracting themselves with their phones held in their laps.

Fools, he thought. Do they think I don’t know what they’re doing?

He didn’t have time to raise hell for their insolence; he had a meeting to attend. So, as much as he hated letting things slide, he gritted his teeth and pressed on.

“The more credited ‘writers’ a film has, the worse it will be. The sheer number of revisions a screenplay must go through to rack up six, seven, eight writers . . . it’s appalling!” He rubbed his temples with his fingers, as if trying to erase the memories of his time trying to – and ultimately passing on - play script doctor for an action-adventure franchise that had employed no less than eight writers to cobble together the final, nonsensical storyline that effectively alienated large droves of the franchise’s fans.

Checking his watch, he mentally cursed at the time before heading right for his desk.

“Remember, your papers on prewar and postwar experimental cinema are due next class. Any submissions sent in later than precisely nine o’clock in the morning will be deducted points. None of you could stand to lose any points, if the grades so far for this class this semester are any indication. Class dismissed.”

Thomas turned his attention to packing up his things and hightailing it out of the lecture hall. Yet, beyond the rush of feet moving towards the door and mindless chatter about what people’s plans for the evening were – did I ever consider Wednesday nights party nights in college? he wondered briefly – he could hear a few distinct voices among the din.

“Since when does Hunt check with you before he does something?” he heard Ethan Blake say.

He paused in the middle of stashing away his laptop.

After a pause, Miss Schuyler said, “I just meant . . . don’t you think he’d tell the class before-”

“Are we really discussing this in front of him?” Miss Sinclair stage whispered.

He lifted his head to find the three students still standing by their desks, looking directly at him. Upon capturing his attention, they started at being caught and leapt into extremely unnatural stances: Ethan Blake rubbed the back of his neck with one hand while staring pointedly upwards, Miss Sinclair focused intently on the palms of her hands, and Miss Schuyler . . . was still looking at him, but had pasted a terrifyingly wide smile on her face.

He glanced again at his watch. He truly didn’t have time for this.

Rolling his eyes at the trio, he headed straight for his office to grab his jacket and keys. Then, it was off to the inanely named restaurant where he’d be meeting the faculty recruiter of Southern California University’s film school.

🎬🎬🎬🎬🎬

“Don’t you think he’d tell the class before ditching us in the middle of the year?” Margot asked. “He isn’t the type to cut and run. I just know he isn’t! We can’t let him leave!”

Ethan’s eyebrows rose. “You’re awfully emotional about this news.”

Margot glared at him over the table grill of Grilling Me Softly, a Korean barbeque restaurant that opened twenty minutes away from the university. Their platters of pork belly, lemon-and-herb marinated chicken, chadolbagi, and bulgogi had arrived, and it was her turn to do the cooking. She tweaked with her hair, which she’d pulled up into Sailor Moon-like buns to keep the long locks from enticing the flames.

The sight of her with metal tong poised in the air and her glare piercing him from across the circular table had Ethan quickly changing his tune.

“It’s good that you care,” he backtracked. “I just . . . if there’s any professor who would evoke that kind of response from me if there were rumours of them leaving, it would be, like, Moriyama. Someone with a heart.”

Addison, who was already digging into her portion of their wild mushroom japchae starter, nodded, cheeks bulging with food.

“He did defend me in my hearing, or have you forgotten?” Margot picked up a few pieces of meat from each plate and dropped it onto the grill, reveling in the satisfying sizzle and steam that instantly came out upon contact. “He’s not so bad.”

Addison dabbed at the corners of her lips with a napkin. “Okay, but how are we going to convince him to stay?”

A body slid into one of the seats next to Ethan so suddenly that the agent nearly leapt from his. Crash, smiling broadly, immediately reached for a bowl of soft rice and egg, chopsticks at the ready in the blink of an eye.

“Convince who?” he asked.

“Jesus, Crash,” Ethan said, pressing a hand over his heart to calm it.

“We’re convincing Jesus?”

Margot rolled her eyes. “Where’s Lisa? Didn’t she give you a ride here?”

Crash, around a mouthful of egg, mumbled something about paparazzi. Margot craned her head around just in time to see her pink-haired friend arrive, settling into the seat beside her while keeping her gaze focused on one of the booths in a corner of the restaurant.

“Hey, Lisa,” she said, turning the meat over with precision.

Lisa wrangled her hair into a high ponytail, securing it with an acid-green scrunchie that clashed horrendously with her outfit and made Addison mentally weep at the fashion faux pas. She finally tore her gaze away from the corner and shot them all a look.

“Hunt’s here,” Lisa said.

Margot’s eyes widened. “Here? In a place called Grilling Me Softly? There’s no way.”

Ethan snickered. “I feel like he’d disintegrate before he’d set foot in a university student hangout, much less one with a punny name.”

“Maybe it’s another man who wears a suit every minute of every day,” Crash suggested.

“Uh, this ‘university student hangout’ is more expensive than our usual fish and chips or burger joints,” Lisa pointed out. “Still, isn’t it strange? And who is that woman he’s with?”

Margot’s cheeks flushed at the mention of a woman.

Not that she had any claim on him whatsoever. She wasn’t even sure of her feelings for him anymore. Sure, they had . . . something, but it wasn’t clear what it meant to him, and she didn’t want to act like a fool for him if he was solely focused on being her instructor.

Maybe he’s a friend now, she considered. He’s done some friendly things. He’s held his umbrella over me, drove me home after the date auction, and comforted me on the movie set. He didn’t have to do those things, but he did.

He also kissed me, she reminded herself, and she quickly busied herself with replacing the meat on the grill with new slabs, distributing the cooked pieces to her hungry friends.

Meanwhile, with the subtlety of a bull in a china shop, Ethan maneuvered his head until he caught a glimpse of the professor sitting in the corner booth. He squinted at the person he was seated across before turning back to his friends, a mixture of awe and shock on his face.

“Penelope Locke,” he said in a hushed voice. “Headhunter for Southern California U.”

Lisa’s eyes flashed with excitement. “Like an assassin?”

“Who would eat dinner with their assassin?” Ethan replied.

Crash smiled. “I would, just to say I did.”

“You wouldn’t have survived-”

“Guys.” Margot turned her attention back to Ethan. “A headhunter, eh? So he really must be considering leaving Hollywood U.”

Her stomach twisted. Though the smell of the sizzling beef and pork belly was intoxicating, she wasn’t sure if she’d be able to eat any of it knowing that Professor Hunt was sitting across the room possibly planning his escape.

And then the dak kalguksu she ordered came, and her stomach untwisted itself in anticipation of the noodle soup she’d been craving for weeks.

🎬🎬🎬🎬🎬

Across the crowded restaurant, Thomas tasted the plum wine Penelope Locke ordered for them both and sighed. It wasn’t scotch, but it would tide him over until he could get home and have a few fingers from his favourite bottle before bed.

The woman sitting across from him knew his game already, but still pitched him on an open faculty position at SCU Cinematic Arts. But mostly, she kept her expression serious, even when they endured the forty-five minute “meeting” with mostly small talk and occasional glances at the paparazzi waiting for . . . whoever was important enough to be present and photographed at a place called Grilling Me Softly.

Eventually, the bill arrived. Penelope tucked a credit card into the black leather booklet quickly and handed it back to them. Thomas polished off his wine before slipping out of his seat.

“Thank you, Penelope,” he said quietly.

“Anything for a friend.” Penelope’s face was carefully blank as she added, “The paparazzi was a nice touch. They’ll hear about this meeting in no time.”

“Perfect.” He pulled on his coat. “Though I admittedly didn’t plan that part.”

He turned his head to survey the room, searching for the person who had attracted the photographers outside like moths to the table grill’s flames. A shock of pink hair that he usually saw in a bedhead disarray caught his attention, and he groaned internally at noticing that Miss Schuyler and her entourage (including the celebrity in question, Lisa Valentine) were stuffing themselves with near-reckless abandon.

“Do you know them?” Penelope asked, tilting her chin towards the group.

Thomas grimaced. “Yes. I’ll admit I’ve never seen them eat before. It’s . . . rather disturbing.”

Penelope laughed. “Good thing we arrived when we did. They might bankrupt this restaurant yet.”

🎬🎬🎬🎬🎬

The week after his meeting with Penelope, Thomas settled behind his desk in the lecture hall as his Hollywood 101 class filed in slowly. He had already laid out the grading rubrics for the students presenting their midterm projects that day. And, as the presentations began, he immediately regretted staying out a little later than usual the night before, catching up with an old colleague who had since become Hillview Film Academy’s recruiter.

Seriously, Thomas thought, Lance’s continued attendance at this university is inconceivable. Who does a midterm presentation on “glossy, tangle-taming hair masks for the modern male model”?

When it came to Miss Sinclair’s presentation, however, he was admittedly impressed by the line of men’s business suits she had come up with. Though he felt she should have cited a more recent point of inspiration than Mad Men or Sex and the City, he marked her accordingly, noting the special craftsmanship and detail-conscious care that she had put into every suit on display.

I wouldn’t mind wearing the gray one . . .

Clearing his throat authoritatively, he spoke up. “I’m surprised at your drastic change in artistic direction, Miss Sinclair. I hope you have defended your decisions in the accompanying write-up.”

Miss Sinclair nodded.

Thomas checked his list. “Finally, Mister Yamaguchi.”

Spencer Yamaguchi grinned, already making his way to the door. “All right! I’ve got it all set up in one of the auditoriums. It’s a one-man show about a plucky hero, who struggles with his-”

“Save it for the show, Mister Yamaguchi.” Thomas sighed as he looked at his neatly organized desktop. “And in future, please inform us beforehand if we are to move locations for project presentations. That goes for all of you.”

Grumbling, Thomas picked up his rubrics and laptop and herded the class to the auditorium. While they settled into their seats, Mister Yamaguchi disappeared behind the red velvet curtains that obscured the stage. Among the murmuring of the students waiting for the show to begin, Thomas could hear a microphone check and a five-second snippet of music being tested on the sound system.

The lights went down.

The curtains came up.

A spotlight turned on, illuminating a backdrop of two-dimensional high-rises and streets edged with trees and parked cars.

And the song that had begun to play as part of the sound system check began and continued as the protagonist appeared.

🎬🎬🎬🎬🎬

“Welcome to The Many Adventures of the Amazing Arachnid Boy!” crowed Crash from where he dangled from the ceiling, parallel to the stage. “I’m your host, Arachnid Boy himself, and this is the story of . . . me.”

From behind her, Margot could hear Professor Hunt snort. Hearing such an undignified sound from him made her smile.

The hip-hop beat kicked in, and Crash began climbing a cardboard skyscraper, freestyling about his new superpowers without stumbling over his words. His dark red leather jacket had an iron-on spider-shaped patch on the back, and he turned around to show the audience it as the song slowed down for a melancholy bridge.

“No one knows my pain, no one knows the strain,” Crash sang, “on my mental health, gotta be so stealthy . . . I know I seem witty, ‘cause I fly above the city, but when I stop, I can’t stop, I won’t stop . . .”

The beat kicked back in, and he jumped around and immediately leapt to the next cardboard building with exuberance.

“I can’t risk someone getting the drop on me, finding out my identity, putting the serenity of my family at risk . . . ya hear me, villains? Take a shot at me, you’d better not miss!”

As Crash’s show continued, Margot snuck glances over her shoulder at the professor. He seemed more shocked than anything else, and his pen was moving at lightning speed over the paper he had balanced on a clipboard.

Hopefully those are good notes, she thought.

🎬🎬🎬🎬🎬

After Mister Yamaguchi’s self-insert rip-off of an existing superhero defeated its archenemy, the Emerald Elf, the audience around Thomas jumped to its feet in raucous applause. Thomas brought his hands together twice before returning to his notes, jotting down some last-minute observations – rhymed “city” with “litty”; did the Emerald Elf need a self-deprecating R&B solo? – and then ushering the class back into the lecture hall.

“Our presenters for next class are Miss Valentine, Miss Stone, Mister Ortega, Miss Perez, Jayden, and Miss Schuyler. The remaining students will be presenting the following class. Until then, class dismissed.”

As Thomas unlocked his laptop to begin inputting grades, he sensed someone sidling up to him. It didn’t take a genius to figure out who might be approaching him.

“Hello, Professor,” Miss Schuyler said softly. Her bag was already slung over her shoulder. A quick glance to the door indicated that her friends were leaving her behind; he almost wished he could call them back in, to make sure that whatever it was she had to say was said in front of witnesses.

After the Fairy Kingdom Formal, he’d felt odd whenever he so much as looked at her. He wasn’t sure what to make of the new sensation. He worried that it meant something. But it couldn’t, could it? She was a decade younger than him. She was his student. It couldn’t be-

She told you about her childhood, he reminded himself. She confided in you. It’s not love. It’s you worrying over how she lived when she was younger. That’s all.

He wanted his thoughts to stop right there, but they kept coming anyway, like a second inner voice had joined the conversation to argue a different opinion.

You knew it was her at the masquerade. You spoke with her. You danced with her. You kissed her.

Stop.

You took care of her when she was hungry, cold, and sad. You slept in the same bed as her.

It meant nothing. It was nothing-

You drove her to her dorm after Chris Winters left her in the aquarium. She told you she thought you mattered to her, and you lived off that feeling for days after.

Stop-

You held your umbrella over her. You helped her get to her ride home with little incident.

That doesn’t mean anything-

You like her.

Stop-

You might even love-

“Professor?”

He blinked and found himself staring up at a very concerned Margot.

“Are you all right?” She adjusted the strap on her shoulder. “I was just . . . did you like Crash’s musical?”

He felt a bit dizzy. “It was interesting,” he said slowly.

“Good interesting?”

He cocked his head to the side, which didn’t help the vertigo. “I always find it fascinating when students suddenly decide that their passions have changed, Miss Schuyler.”

And, though she was an admittedly talented actress, Margot did not hide her nervousness. “Oh, yeah. I see how that could be interesting.”

“Might you know anything about Mister Yamaguchi and Miss Sinclair’s newfound passions?” he asked, mostly to see her squirm.

There, see? he told himself. I revel in making her uncomfortable, in treating her just like all my other students. This “love” theory is absolute bull-

“Maybe.” Her eyes widened comically. “I mean. Um. That’s all. Bye.”

She sped-walked out of the hall, and Thomas took a minute to gather himself before turning back to his laptop.

Sifting through his notes, he took extra time with Miss Sinclair and Mister Yamaguchi’s rubrics. They had both delivered impressive projects, ambitious if a bit contrived, but if her reaction was anything to go by, Miss Schuyler had something to do with their sudden fascinations in suits and musical theatre.

🎬🎬🎬🎬🎬

He can’t leave. He just can’t.

Margot had been standing in the main building of the university with her friends, rehashing Lisa’s surprise operatic performance as well as her own avant-garde film she directed, when she saw him hurrying towards a clearly marked administrator’s office. Though his stride was purposeful, and he attracted attention wherever he went due to his being Thomas Hunt and all, something about him radiated the energy of a man who did not want to be seen.

Before knocking on the door, she watched the professor take a deep breath.

And then he stepped through the doorway and out of view, leaving her to draw her own conclusion.

“I hope we did enough to convince him to stay,” she said quietly.

Lisa placed a hand on her shoulder. “If my rendition of Pavarotti didn’t convince him, I doubt anything could.”

“He did like your film, Margot,” Addison said reassuringly. “He didn’t trash it or anything!”

“Sad how that’s a good sign, isn’t it?” Ethan lamented.

🎬🎬🎬🎬🎬

The first class after the midterm project presentations was mostly silent. Thomas had planned it that way; after hearing some of the most illogical projects from this class, he wanted a break from them in a way that still kept them on track with the semester work. He was playing a series of short silent films on the projection screen while he finalized the midterm grades, and apart from some minor whispering – another thing he’ll temporarily turn a blind eye to, as he simply did not have the energy after faking so many recruitment meetings the past ten days – it was peaceful.

“Any word about Hunt’s job situation?”

Or not.

Before Miss Sinclair could reply, Thomas cleared his throat.

“Miss Schuyler. Care to share with the rest of us what you were about to ask Miss Sinclair?”

He’d never seen Miss Schuyler’s cheeks so red. They almost suited her, drawing attention to her high cheekbones-

Stop.

“Not with the rest of the class, no, Professor,” she murmured.

He raised an eyebrow at her. “Then perhaps you will share it with me . . . after class. My office.”

She nodded, turning her attention back to her worksheets.

And, as he similarly went back to his own work, he fought to keep the grin off his face.

🎬🎬🎬🎬🎬

“You wanted to see me?”

He leaned back in his chair, setting his arms on the structured arm rests of his chair. “I know what you and your friends have been doing. Don’t play dumb. Miss Sinclair designing suits, Mister Yamaguchi doing a musical, Miss Valentine singing opera.”

She winced. “I guess we were kinda obvious.”

He rolled his eyes. “Extremely obvious.”

“Did it work? Are you gonna stay?”

Was he imagining the eagerness in her voice? The hope that permeated those questions, as if she wanted him to remain at the university, to continue being her professor? He worried he was projecting, but there was something about the way she was looking at him that made him feel . . .

Made him feel.

“Do you want me to?” he asked.

She shook her head hard enough that her earrings clacked against her neck. “No. No, I – don’t leave.” She caught herself and added, in a much less emotionally wrought voice, “In my opinion, anyway.”

He looked at her, taking in her slightly trembling hands.

She looked at him, noting the curiosity in his eyes.

Desperate to know what the other one was thinking, but afraid of what they might be thinking of, they stared for a long moment in silence, trying and failing to read each other simply from body language.

Finally, he said, “Then it’s a good thing I was never planning on leaving anyway.”

She let out a sigh – of relief? he wondered – and sunk into the chair opposite him. Instantly relaxing into his own seat, he watched her take a few calming breaths before looking back at him with a new question burning in her eyes.

“Wait, so if you were never planning to leave, then why did you meet with those admins from other schools?”

He smirked. “For leverage during salary negotiations, obviously. I only do it when I feel it’s necessary, and this past year has been quite trying, particularly due to some students.” He looked pointedly at her, and she feigned shock.

“Crash’s musical was ingenious,” she argued.

“Stan Lee’s estate is on its way with a lawsuit as we speak,” he said dryly. “Dr. Seuss could – and has – written better verses.”

“Those are fighting words, Professor.” Margot’s eyes twinkled. “Crash could write The Cat in the Hat, but Dr. Seuss could not write ‘Emerald Elf Hates His Emerald Self.’”

#thomas hunt #thomas orson hunt #only fools fall for you #hollywood u #fanfiction

4 notes · View notes

pollylynn · 4 years ago

Photo

Title: The Glass Cell WC: 1600

“You know reality isn’t fiction, right?” — Dr. Clark Murray, A Death in the Family (1 x 10)

She wears a dress of her mom’s to prom, he decides. He imagines it in detail—cut-work lace over taffeta in bright emerald green, a satin empire waist band a shade darker, a full A-line skirt. He envisions her with mismatched quasi-punky hair hanging down to half hide her dramatic eye-makeup. She stands out, of course. In a sea of off-the-shoulder, halter neck, heavy fabrics in primary colors—crayon red, royal blue, black, black, white, white, red again, with an ill-advised plunge neckline. She stands out.

She likes her date, though she doesn’t exactly let him know that. He imagines that, too. She doesn’t exactly let anyone know that she likes this boy on the verge of being a man, because she’s not sure that she’s supposed to. He’s quiet and sensitive. Not a dork—not outright unpopular, but a dark horse candidate for asking her in the first place, and her unexpected, unhesitating yes had sent shockwaves through the eleventh grade.

She is awkward on the dance floor. She is a vision in her mother’s dress, but there is architecture to it. There is a hidden foundation that requires time travel of her ribs, her spine, her hips, and her date—the boy on the verge of being a man—has no idea where to put his hands during the slow songs. She has no idea where to put hers, so she locks her fingers behind his neck. She breathes Let’s get out of here well before Boyz II Men get to the spoken-word part, and they do.

They race across the ballroom with their fingers linked, laughing like fools. They leave her friends, his friends, the tiny intersection of their friends to gawp as they bang through the double doors.They roam the streets around the hotel in a spiral pattern, talking and talking.

She shivers and pulls the cream-colored silk-and-seed-pearl wrap close around her. With well-intentioned gallantry, he tries to drop his tuxedo jacket over her shoulders. He misses, and they both watch in horror as the long tails drag through something nameless and awful before he can catch it.

The hem of her dress is dirty and her mom’s dyed-to-match pumps with their rhinestone butterfly clips will never be the same. But they share french fries at a nameless diner. They share a tentative kiss in the back of a cab as the boy escorts her home. They share a burning, frenzied, back-against-the-glass follow-up in the doorway of her apartment as the sun comes up.

She misses curfew by a lot. Her mom brings her coffee and toast in bed long after morning has tipped over into afternoon. She asks a million impertinent questions about the boy she likes, about the evening, about her plans to save up for what should be an astonishing dry cleaning bill.

This is how it happens. This is what he decides.

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

She sprains her ankle on move-in day. He knows. He sees clearly how the events unfold.

She has a plan. She has keys in hand by 8:01 am. She has a spot for the van with her things, hardly a block away, and her second-hand office chair can serve as a makeshift dolly. She has almost nothing. It’ll be two dozen quick trips, she figures, but the apartment is full of junk.

Oh yeah, the creepy building manager tells her, last guy skipped out.

The junk is her problem, apparently. Her problem. She plumps down on some kind of ottoman and immediately regrets it as an oily smell rises up. It’s not just the ottoman, though. The whole place reeks of food and animal fat. She registers the distant clatter of dishes, of silverware, and the hiss of a hot grill rising up through the floor.

She props her elbows on her knees and her chin on her fists. She wastes ten precious minutes of the three hours before she has to have the van back contemplating the space that is smaller, dingier, filthier than the unit she saw when she signed the lease.

She hauls herself up and lugs the ottoman and a broken laundry basket full of dirty t-shirts with her down to the dumpster. She bumps milk crates full of electronics odds and ends down the stairs. She carries awkward lamps like jousting lances.

It’s a box of kitchen things that does her in. It’s a mile wide and heavy. She knows she should unpack and repack it. She should make two trips, three, four, but she’s tired of this. She misses a step. She goes down to the landing. She can feel the rush of heat into the ankle she has wrenched badly.

There’s a neighbor—a pair of neighbors—who hear the commotion. They rescue her, Cleo and Pete, who are just a little older than she is. They extricate her from underneath the box. They help her into their apartment and give her an ice pack. They give her a stiff drink and an ace bandage.

They share stories about the guy who skipped out in the middle of the night—his questionable activities and his even more questionable taste in music. They order pizza and won’t take her money when she offers. The three of them agree that the building manager almost certainly collects clown paintings by serial killers.

They insist that she spend the night on their couch. She protests. She tries to put weight on her ankle, then gives in. She spends her first night not in her first apartment staring at a ceiling that belongs to strangers with tears leaking from the corners of her eyes because her fucking ankle hurts. Because she doesn’t have the money to pay for another day of the damned van. Because her mother is dead and she is alone in the world.

He knows all this. He sees it clearly.

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

He cannot picture the shadows on her skin in that basement room. He sees the backs of his own hands criss-crossed infinitely with weak, unflattering light coming in through the cage. But he cannot see hers. Would her fingernails be as neat and no-fuss as they are today, or would they have been ragged with the pain of all the long years before she made it that far?

Would she—and the possibility is like a lattice work of burning hot ice spreading through him from the inside—would she have gotten the chain for her mother’s ring when she first put on the uniform? Was there a time in that dingy apartment—in her college days with her dad drowning and her left wrist as yet bare—was there a time when when she would have slipped it on her finger each morning instead of ducking her head to let the delicate links of a think gold chain slither down over her collar bones?

He doesn’t know, any more than he knows if she would have risked the rickety table with its hard, back-breaking chair. He cannot say whether she would have waited for the most desolate hour each possible night, then set to work right where he did, or if she would have, instead, arranged herself on the cracked tile floor, knees drawn up and hunched over the tight beam of a penlight.

He looks for signs of her in the creases and ragged edges, the rusty indentation of an ancient paperclip removed and replaced, the corner of a thin stack torn away along with a now-missing staple in a moment of frustration. He scours the faded, triple-carbon paperwork and holds the glossy, terrible photos at an oblique angle to the light from his desk lamp, the light from his computer screen. In the riot of smudged, overlapping fingerprints he wonders which might be hers.

It’s no use, this afterthought of a search. She is nowhere. There is no detail remembered from his own few hours spent in that basement room, no physical trace of her presence in the file itself that sparks the rush of absolute clarity with which he envisions her at the junior prom, her on move-in day at that first three-story walk-up that smelled of chicken wings.

She is nowhere, because he has never once bothered to imagine her—not once. He relives the abrupt sting of her rapped out pair of questions—You don’t think I’ve haven’t been down there? You don’t think I haven’t memorized every line in that file? He sits, staring at the file now with tide of shame advancing, receding, advancing.

He didn’t think. In all these weeks, he has not once thought about the space between the wound delivered and the scars she bears. He has not once thought about the dreams she must have cast off, what it must have cost her to forge a path to that basement room. He has not once considered what those long years must have been like. He has never stopped to ask himself how the woman she is now—the relentless, fiercely intelligent, extraordinary woman he has come to know—could ever have come to accept her mother’s death as a random, wayward event.

He thinks now. He asks himself now. He tries, now, to picture the shadows on her skin, the tense outline of her body and the tight beam of a penlight. He tries to imagine that lonely work, but he can’t.

She is gone from him. She is nowhere. A/N: This is an especially weird not!thing. I had to decide that Castle has the actual Johanna Beckett file that he’s taken, not just copies. That doesn’t make much sense, but the autopsy photos look to be originals, complete with labels and handling wear. Fixation on those details is just a distraction from how not a thing this is.

images via homeofthenutty

#Castle #Caskett #Castle: Season 1 #Castle: A Death in the Family #Kate Beckett #Richard Castle #Johanna Beckett #Jim Beckett #Fic #Fanfic #Fanfiction #Fan Fic #Fan Fiction #Writing #Interrogatives?

10 notes · View notes

let-it-raines · 5 years ago

Text

Catch Me If You Can (22/?)

298 days. That’s how long Killian Jones was away from a baseball field. It’s less than a year, only part of a season for him, but it might as well have lasted a decade as he alternated between physical therapy and spending an excessive amount of time sitting on his couch.

But then he came back and won the World Series.

It’s something no one saw coming, and it’s certainly not something anyone who knows about his arm would predict. Now it’s a new season with new possibilities, and anything could happen. On-field reporter Emma Swan will be there to cover it all even if she is not his biggest fan right now.

Asking her out live on-air will do that.

Rating: Mature

a/n: Everyone take a moment to check out the INCREDIBLE drawing that @carpedzem did that was inspired by this story. It can be found | Here | and deserves all of the likes and reblogs for bringing the Killian in this story to life!

Have a good weekend! ❤️

Found on AO3: Beginning | Current

Tumblr: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 |15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 |

Tag list: @eala-captian @galaxyzxstark @xellewoods @mariakov81 @ultraluckycatnd @royalswan @shey-starsfury @superchocovian @sals86 @iam2307 @ashley-knightingale @karenfrommisthaven @scientificapricot @captswanis4vr @ultimiflos @jamif @idristardis @nikkiemms @resident-of-storybrooke @tiganasummertree @bmbbcs4evr @onceuponaprincessworld @jennjenn615 @mayquita @captainsjedi @teamhook @notoriouscs @kmomof4 @ekr032-blog-blog@cs-forlife @andiirivera @jonirobinson64 @qualitycoffeethings @youraverageshipper

-/-

“You haven’t updated your Instagram account in weeks.”

Ariel says this as they sit in the hotel restaurant with their plates full of salad, grilled chicken, and rice. Killian’s been eating like shit lately, and as good as it feels in the moment, he can tell that it affects him and the way that he functions on a daily basis. So he’s been eating the same thing for every meal for the past week, but since they’re on the road where he doesn’t have constant access to a fridge and stove, he’s had to get a little creative in obtaining his food. Ariel is pretty much an expert at finding whatever it is that he wants when he wants it, and he cannot thank her enough for it.

Stabbing a piece of chicken, Killian lifts his fork to his mouth and takes a bite while he taps his passcode into his phone to see if Ariel’s statement is actually true. He really wouldn’t know, but it looks like he has several photos from the last few weeks on there.

“You can very clearly see all of these photos, A. Why are you so big on my social media presence lately?”

“These are all professional photos,” Ariel sighs, an emphasis on professional, and she pushes his phone back toward him. “You need more personal photos. You look like a baseball player.”

“I am a baseball player.”

She waves him away. “You know what I mean.”

Killian arches a brow and scoops up some of his rice. “I really don’t, love.”

Ariel rolls his eyes, and he settles a little further in his booth, his eyes glancing around to the people sitting around them in the restaurant. It’s not very crowded, just a few people here and there, but that’s par for the course considering it’s tentwo in the morningafternoon on a Wednesday. Not a lot of people are chilling in a hotel restaurant in Boston when there are approximately fifty-two other things they could be doing within a five-foot radius. And that’s only the tourists.

And he’s pretty sure that everyone in here can hear his conversation, is probably judging them for the particular subject of it, but he knows that no one cares.

He certainly doesn’t, but if A cares, he should for her.

“People like a little personality,” Ariel explains, ripping up a bit of her napkin. “I know we’ve talked about this before, Killian. You’ve got to show a little personality outside of baseball. I’m not saying put your diary on there, but post a picture with someone outside of baseball.” “Literally, everyone in my life is involved in baseball in some way.”

“Okay, true,” Ariel laughs. “It’s the same for me, so I get it. Still, though, think about it.”

Killian hums noncommittedly, pushing his rice around before looking up at Ariel and wondering why the hell she’s looking at him like she’s holding all of the secrets of the world in that mind of hers.

“Did you really ask to meet me because we needed to talk about my Instagram feed?”

“I mean, obviously not,” she huffs. “I had a few work things to talk about with you, but I’ve also missed you. I feel like it’s been so long since we all spent time together with you guys not in uniform. It’s got to have been months, and I miss it.”

His heart swells and breaks all at once while his head tilts to the side to look at Ariel, eyes glancing up and down over her as he studies her. “You okay, A?”

“I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“Ariel.”

“Killian.”

“Ariel, I am here to talk if you’re upset about something, and, literally, say the word and I will get all of us together to do something. We’re here for five days before we’re back in New York for a week. I know we’re in the crazy part of the season where it feels like we can’t breathe, but I promise there’s time for us all to spend time together.”

Her eyes glance down at her food, and she swishes her water around in the glass before taking a long, slow sip that he knows is to take up time.

“I really am fine,” she promises. “I’m just a little stressed with it all, and I feel like I need some time with all of you guys and Belle and, um, Emma too. I’m trying to make contract negotiations for Eric, which has involved us talking about a lot of future stuff that I wasn’t quite ready to talk about yet.”

“Babies?”

“Ding, ding, ding,” she laughs, even if it’s kind of pathetic. “I mean, I want kids. I do. I want them with Eric especially.”

“Well, I’d be a little concerned if you didn’t want them with your husband.”

She flicks a piece of lettuce at him. “Shut up.”

“Never.”

“Why do I love you?”

“I literally have no idea,” Killian teases, reaching over the table to grab Ariel’s hand so that he can squeeze it to reassure her. “Go on, A. I’m listening.”

“I just – it’s hard, you know? Obviously, Eric and I are financially secure right now, but you can’t plan life when that’s exactly what we’re trying to do. Because what happens if Eric gets traded somewhere else? We have to uproot everything, and having kids will complicate that. And we have to have a plan for Eric after he retires. Like, I have a pretty nice job because of all of you, but he’s going to need to have something to do. It’s just…it’s a lot on my plate when I’m already balancing so much. I mean, haven’t you thought about all of that?”

Damn.

Like, damn.

No, he hasn’t thought of any of that. Not at all. Well, that’s a lie, but it’s a small lie, a white one really. When he was out after the accident, his future was always on his mind, but it was never any concrete thoughts. It was always depressing ones about him never being able to play again, about him having no discernable skills outside of a sport, and about him wondering if he was going to fall into women and bars once more simply because things weren’t going his way. It was never a concrete answer about what he’s legitimately going to do after baseball. Money isn’t really his concern as long as he handles it all correctly, but how will he spend his days? What will he be passionate about?

Is Emma going to be by his side through all of it?

Woah.

Okay.

That’s not at all where he thought his mind was headed, but his brain apparently had a much different roadmap than he thought. Killian loves Emma, undoubtedly, and he does want his future to involve her, but it’s like Ariel said…they can’t plan life.

And he doesn’t know what Emma’s plans are.

Realistically, too, Killian isn’t exactly sure what he wants out of life, and he already knows that he most likely won’t have a career as long as a lot of other guys in the league. They haven’t had broken arms and rotator cuff tears that still bother him like he has.

Fuck.

This is not how his morning is supposed to be going, and the way that his heart is hammering in his chest is far worse now than it will ever be when he gets out on the mound tonight.

Swallowing the lump in his throat, Killian squeezes Ariel’s hand again. “It’s hard to think about, A, but you guys will figure it out. I don’t think life can ever really be planned. I sure as hell have planned none of mine, and if I didn’t have you, I think it’d be a much bigger mess.”

Ariel’s cheeks flame up to be the same color of her hair, but she smiles at him anyways. “You’re right. You would be a mess without me and everyone else. I am the glue that holds you together.”

“You and a couple other people which means you are all very weak glue to need that many people to hold me together or I’m just that resistant.”

“The second option.”

“You’re going to be okay, A. You and Eric are solid. And if or when you do have that baby, no matter what city you’re in, I’m going to be there to be that kid’s favorite person in the world.”

“Please,” Ariel laughs even as water fills her eyes, “no one could ever compare to me. I’m definitely going to be my kid’s favorite person.”

“Whatever you have to say to make yourself sleep at night.”

-/-

Killian gets booed when he steps out onto the field, and he can’t imagine a more fitting welcome in Boston since that is what usually happens.

But then it continues past that first moment.

And he very much deserves it for how he’s pitching, though that booing is probably from the Yankees fans and not Boston natives. His arm is stiff, a bit of pain running through it, and he’s too stubborn to ask to be relieved early or to admit that he’s in pain. He tries to convince himself that it’s all exaggerated, that he’s simply been in a negative headspace all day since eating lunch with Ariel and all of the heaviness that was in that conversation, but he knows that it’s not exaggerated. Killian knows that his shoulder is bothering him, his mind is bothering him, and nothing is going to get him out of this foul mood.

Especially not when Al pulls him after the third inning once again and yells at him to get his shit together. Will does too, and even if it’s in his joking tone, Killian doesn’t take it that way. He doesn’t take any of it as a joke.

Who the hell cares about what he’s going to do after baseball if he can’t even figure out what he’s doing right now?

And in all of his anger, in all of his frustration at himself and at his team, the thing he hates himself for the most is brushing off Emma when she asks for an interview. He mutters a no under his breath and keeps walking down the hallway back to the locker room so that he can take a shower and get a massage.

She’s the woman who he loves more than anything or anyone else, which he didn’t even realize until right now, and he just blew her off when she was simply trying to do her job.

He’s such an asshole.

They lose 3-17.

-/-

Elsa: Are you okay?

Elsa: Killian.

Elsa: I know you’ve checked your phone. The game ended three hours ago. Five hours ago for you.

Elsa: I’m going to start calling you and won’t stop if you don’t text me back within the next five minutes.

Killian sighs and rolls over on his hotel mattress, phone still in hand, and sends Elsa a text back because he really does not want to talk on the phone right now.

Killian: Yes, Els?

He expects the bubbles to pop up to tell him that she’s texting back, but they don’t. Instead her face pops up, a picture of she and the girls from Christmas last year, and he wonders if she was ever not going to call him. The answer is most definitely no since he’s been ignoring her – and everyone else – all evening. Eventually someone was going to call him out on his shit.

Sighing again, he hits answer and presses the speaker button as Elsa’s voice comes through the phone.

“Why are you ignoring everyone?”

“I’m talking to you.”

“Only because I just promised to harass you until you did. Seriously, Killian. Your brother and I have been calling you all afternoon, and you’ve ignored us. And when I texted Emma, she said that you were ignoring her too.”

“Bloody hell,” Killian grumbles aloud, sitting up in bed and moving his arm so that he’s not pressing down on it so as to agitate it more. “You texted Emma?”

“Um, yeah?” Elsa questions, the hesitation obvious in her voice. “She’s your girlfriend. She was at the game. I kind of figured she was with you, but apparently the two of you haven’t talked either. What the hell is wrong with you that you’re not even talking to Emma?”

Well, he’s an asshole for one. He’s also never told Emma about his shoulder injury and the full extent of the accident. He doesn’t want to. There’s no rhyme or reason to it, but he doesn’t want Emma to know about it. Not now. As irrational as he knows that it is, she might think less of him. And maybe just maybe, if he doesn’t tell more people, the problem will somehow go away.

This is all becoming more irrational by the second, but it’s fine. Everything is going to be fine. That was such a dark place in his life, one he doesn’t want to keep repeating and reliving even if Emma already knows parts of it, and he has no idea how he’d even talk to her right now since she’s very obviously, and rightfully so, pissed at him.

It’s all so easy to mess everything up in the blink of an eye.

“She’s likely pissed at me since I brushed her off for an interview. I didn’t even say hi or smile at her or find her afterwards. So, I didn’t text her, and she hasn’t texted me. I don’t know…she’s upset with me, right?”

“She’s concerned about you,” Elsa breathes out, and from the lack of noise around her, Killian imagines that she must have locked herself in the study so that no one bothers her. “Killian, Emma loves you. Anyone with eyes can see that, and you guys are a team. Granted, you’re a brand new team, but you’re a team. You have to work together and share stuff like this.”

“I know that, Els.”

“Then why isn’t she with you right now?”

“Because my shoulder feels like shit today, and she doesn’t know anything about the accident besides the broken bone.”

Silence fills the air around him after he says the words, and it’s exacerbated by the fact that Elsa isn’t saying anything on the other line. The only sounds are the sounds of his television playing some kind of celebrity gossip show. How out of touch is he if he doesn’t even know the name of the show?

Why would it even matter to him?

“Killian,” Elsa whispers, and he’s so damn tired of hearing people say his name in sympathy today, “you haven’t told her?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because I haven’t told anyone else, Els. Eight people on this earth know about it, and I don’t even know how I would tell her. I don’t want her to look at me out of pity. I don’t…my life has had some pretty shitty periods, and that was one of them. Emma didn’t honestly know me then. She didn’t know how fucked up that I was, and even if I’ve told her about Milah and all of the women after Milah and – I’ve told her a lot, and at some point, she’s going to flip out on how messed up I am.”

“First of all,” she starts, not even allowing him to take a breath or truly think about everything that he just said, “you are not messed up. You, even with all of your privileges now, have had some really hard times in your life. You lost your mom at a really young age and had a pretty shitty dad who took advantage of you and your talents. And then you had a really big love kind of blow up in your face, as well as everything that came after that, and just as you were getting over that, the accident happened.”

“It’s even more depressing if you say it all in a list like that.”

“But,” Elsa continues, “you got through all of that. Are you still struggling with it? Absolutely. But it hasn’t kept you from continuing to live your dream even though things are frustrating. It hasn’t kept you from finding a really great girl in Emma. You’re okay, you know that? And we all love you so much that I don’t think I can even express it with words.”

Killian smiles to himself and twists in his bed, a bit of water coating his eyes, but he blinks the tears away and runs his hands through his hair, taking a deep breath. “I love you guys too.”

“Good. Now text your girlfriend and think about telling her some of this stuff that you’re carrying around on your shoulders.”

“Is that supposed to be a joke?”

“A little.”

“You have no shame.”

“I know. Call me tomorrow, okay?”

“Will do.”

The line goes silent, for real this time, and Killian slams his eyes shut simply so he can have a moment to breathe. Today has been a lot for him, and he knows that Elsa is right about everything. He does. But he’s not quite ready to be that open with Emma. He will be. He does actually want her to know about everything even if he thinks it’ll make her run for the hills, but he’s not ready. And he tells himself that it’s fine. Emma has her own hang-ups, her own past, and not everything has to be shared right away.

They have time.

And his arm may very well start feeling better soon, and his freak out will all be for naught.

Killian: Can I come up to your room?

Emma: Ruby and Graham are in here.

Killian: I don’t care if you don’t.

Emma: 514.

Rolling off the bed, Killian bends down to his suitcase to grab a shirt, not caring which one, and tugs it down on over his head and shoulders before grabbing his phone and wallet to walk up to Emma’s room. He’s not even wearing any shoes, just socks, but he doesn’t notice this until he’s looking around the hallway to make sure no one is around and then quietly knocking on the door.

Graham opens it, a smile on his face, and for some reason it makes Killian think that maybe Emma isn’t as pissed at him as his mind has convinced himself that she is.

“Hey, come on in,” Graham says, opening the door a little wider and letting Killian inside. “I’m sorry about the game.”

“I’m sorry that you used vacation days to see us all play like shit.”

“Yeah, well,” Graham laughs, “at least I’m not at work.”

“This is true.”

Killian takes another step in the room and sees Emma sitting on her bed dressed in a pair of shorts and his old Vandy sweatshirt. He’s going to have to get something else because she’s going to wear that thing until it is nothing but threads. Ruby is sitting next to her, laptops on both of their laps, and he imagines that they’re simply working. Or, at least, he hopes.

“Hey,” Killian greets, crossing his arms over his chest.

Emma looks up at him, a slight smile on her face, and his chest practically heaves. They’re not even in a fight. Why does he feel like they are?

“Hey,” she says. “I’ve got to finish up this article, okay? And I have a little bit of prep work to do for tomorrow.”

“Yeah, Swan, that’s fine.”

“It’s only going to take her thirty minutes,” Ruby starts, slamming her laptop shut, “and then she’s going to yell at you for how pissed she is at you for completely ignoring her today.”

“Hey,” Emma gasps, reaching her hand back to slap Ruby, “you weren’t supposed to say anything.”

“Well, I knew you weren’t going to.”

“I was.”

“You’re a liar.”

“I was going to talk to him.”

“No, no you weren’t. You two are ridiculous. It’s not that hard to talk to each other.”

“Sweetheart,” Graham sighs, tilting his head to the side, “why don’t you let them deal with their issues on their own? I think they can handle it.”

“You know Emma almost as well as I do, so you know that’s not true.”

“Oh my God,” Emma groans, sinking down further on the bed, “this is why I should have left the two of you in New York.”

“Technically,” Ruby laughs, “David sent me because this is a big game, and he didn’t want you to produce on your own.”

“Yeah, well, I should have convinced him to let you stay, and then we definitely could have left Graham behind.”

“Hey,” Graham scoffs, and Kilian can’t help but laugh. He’s only spent a little bit of time with the three of them all together, but they obviously get along great. Ruby is definitely an acquired taste, but Graham kind of evens things out. “I am on vacation. I don’t need to be berated.”

“Sorry, sorry,” Emma huffs, rubbing the palms of her heels under her eyes. “I’m just a little stressed.”

“Do you want me to go get you a cup of coffee, love?”

Emma glances over to him and shakes her head from side to side. “No. I’ve had enough caffeine today. Thank you, though.”

Silence falls between all of them, only the hum of the air-conditioning remaining, but Killian’s gaze stays on Emma even when she goes back to typing on her laptop.

“Ruby, let’s go out to dinner,” Graham suggests, walking over to the bed and beginning to pack up her stuff. “We’ll all have to do something together tomorrow night, yeah?”

“That sounds great, Graham,” Emma promises. “There’s a seafood place down by the harbor that I want to go to.”

Killian watches as Ruby and Graham collect their things and leave, saying their goodbyes to both he and Emma, and it’s not awkward until the hotel door slams shut behind them and he’s left with just Emma.

When was the last time he felt awkward around Emma?

Probably during his interview back in March. That was a lifetime ago.

“I had a shitty day,” Killian blurts out, walking over to the desk that’s next to Emma’s bed and sitting down on the edge of it so that he’s not talking to her from across the room. “That’s not an excuse. God, love,” he huffs, running his hands through his hair, “I know that’s not an excuse, but it’s mine. I’m sorry that I brushed you off, that I barely acknowledged you at the stadium, and that I didn’t text you while I’m here.”

Emma’s nails clack against the keyboard, and he swears every letter is being burned into his skin for how anxious he feels until she’s closing her laptop and placing it next to her on the bed, pulling her legs up to her chest and wrapping her arms around her knees.

“Why have you had a shitty day? Just because you played poorly? Because I’ve seen you play poorly before, and it’s never resulted in you ignoring me while I’m trying to do my job. I get that reporters suck and that you have to talk to a million of them. And I don’t expect special treatment because I’m your girlfriend, but you can’t just brush me off like that and then basically be a ghost for hours after that. I mean, you weren’t even answering your family’s calls, Killian.”

How is he a functioning human being? How? How does he even have people who love him?

Killian’s got answers to all of her questions, to every single one, but he doesn’t know how to say them without talking about his arm and that’s…that’s not going to happen today when he needs more time to accept it all himself.

Emma will understand. When the time comes, she will.

“I’m an asshole, Swan. I am. I know you probably think I’m great with expressing my emotions because I usually am with you, but sometimes I still struggle with it. I had a day where nothing seemed to go right, and instead of seeking out the help of people who care about me, I isolated myself. It’s not right. I know it’s not, but it’s a pattern that I fall back into time and time again.”

Green eyes glance over him, studying him, and he feels her everywhere, like she’s able to peer deep into his soul and see all of the things he’s hiding from her.

Or the one thing.

It’s just one thing

And it can’t be that big of a deal. It’s not. He’ll tell her. Later. Tonight is not the right time.

“You’re not an asshole,” Emma sighs, flattening her lips. “I know I call you an ass all of the time, but I don’t mean it. I just – you had a bad day. I get that. I have bad days all the time, but, and at least I think I’m right about this even though Neal and Walsh never did this with me, when you have a shitty day, you’re supposed to share it with me, come to me, lean on me. If you need time to yourself, fine. Take it. That’s probably a good thing, but I don’t want to do this if every time things don’t go your way I’m pushed away.”

“Did you rehearse that?”

“Does it sound like it?”

“A little bit,” Killian chuckles as he scratches behind his ear. “If only because everything you just told me not to do is everything that I know you have a history of doing.”

“Yeah, well, I’m a hypocrite.” Emma lets her legs fall against the mattress before standing up and stepping into his space so that she’s standing between his thighs with her hands on his shoulders, nails curling into his t-shirt. “Obviously, we both have our own issues, but let’s try to be better, yeah? And if all else fails when it comes to talking, I’m a really good person to eat junk food with and possibly get a little drunk even if those are terrible coping mechanisms.”

He huffs, his hands finding her hips so that he can tug her closer. “I’m on a diet, actually.”

Emma’s nose scrunches up in that way that he loves before she’s dipping her head down and softly, thoroughly moving her lips over his in the way that he’s been craving all day. He hasn’t seen her today, only those few seconds after he got pulled out of the game, and he had no idea just how much he missed being able to feel her against him, to be able to smell the scent of her shampoo, until right at this moment.

“I know,” she says when they pull back from each other even if he doesn’t let his grip on her hips go. “We’ve been eating like crap lately.”

“I’m trying to rectify that. I know you are too.”

“Actually, Ruby and I signed up for another Pilates class at home, so I’ve been working my ass off to still eat my onion rings. Literally.”

“Oh, don’t do that.” Killian moves his hand back to squeeze her ass, reveling in the way that Emma rolls her eyes. “I like this ass too much.”

“Well, consider it some kind of punishment for being a broody ass today if my butt happens to get smaller.” She smiles at him before kissing his forehead in a move so gentle that he wonders how in the world this woman has so many wonderful facets. “Now, do me a favor and find something to watch while I finish up my assignment, okay? I have to talk about everything you guys did wrong today.”

“Just punch me in the gut why don’t you.”

“I try. C’mon, twenty-nine. I think we both deserve a relaxing night.”

“Yeah, Swan, me too.”

They don’t get drunk and eat junk food, but once Emma finishes her work a little under twenty minutes later, she turns her laptop off as well as turning off the hotel room lights, and crawls under the covers with him so that her feet are tucked into his calves. Killian loves that she does that, that she feels comfortable doing that, and it brings him comfort even if her feet are far too cold. Seriously, it’s like she sticks them in the freezer before she gets in bed.

As if that would be possible.

Emma absentmindedly playing with his chain and his mother’s ring is something he’s also grown used to recently, something that brings him peace, and Killian continues to trace words of affection into the skin of her back as the night goes on. They don’t talk much, just a few exchanges of words about Emma’s day, her plans and schedule for tomorrow, and she drags just that little bit more information out of him. It’s still not everything, was never going to be everything, but it’s a start.

And his shoulder doesn’t bother him nearly as badly when Emma is sitting beneath it with her head on his chest laughing at his truly terrible Arnold Schwarzenegger impression. He’s usually much better with accents, but this one is apparently too much for Emma to handle.

Weirdly, though, or maybe not so much, all of his concerns that sparked after his conversation with Ariel this afternoon fade away with each passing second. Killian’s got no clue what’s going to happen or if things are going to work out, but at the end of the day, all he wants is for Emma to laugh with him and kiss his collarbone before she falls asleep.

#catch me if you can #cs fic #cs ff #captain swan fic #captain swan

79 notes · View notes

fanficimagery · 6 years ago

Text

Imagine going to a new school, making new friends, and becoming good friends with possibly the cutest boy you've ever laid eyes on all because your niece gets attached to him. It's just your luck the cute boy also happens to be a vampire.

Stefan X Reader

Ever since you were little, starting a new school year always made you nervous. Even in high school it's never changed, but it's worse now because not only are you starting a new school but you're starting a new school in the middle of the school year. Everyone has their schedules and the path to take for each class memorized, as well as their locker combinations. You're the only one who's continuously looking at a schedule and map, and looking like a lost puppy as you try to find your way.

Thankfully the day seems to be flying by and before you know it, it's your lunch hour. So grabbing a tray, you follow some other students who take their food outside and quickly settle down at an empty picnic table. And before you dig in, you prop your phone up on it's side with the handy little kick-stand built into the phone case and face time your niece as promised.

When the call is answered, you can't help but laugh when you see that your niece has her own makeshift tray of food in front of her. "Wook, Y/N! I eat lunch too."

"I can see that," you muse, opening your drink and taking a sip. "Have you been good for grandpa today?"

"Yep. Papo sweep all day and daddy bought me nuggets!"

"Lucky. All I got to eat is this yucky burger." You hold the burger in question and grin as your niece giggles uncontrollably for longer than necessary.

She takes a minute to actually eat her food and you do the same, you watching her through the tiny screen of your phone as she then remembers that she wanted to show you something. As she scrambles off her seat, she takes the phone with her and you're stuck watching as the tiny four year old shows you page after page of her new coloring book that she's scribbled on.

"Excuse me." Someone taps on your shoulder. "But do you mind if I sit at the other end of this table?"

Glancing up and over your shoulder, you see one of the most prettiest boys you've seen so far at Mystic Falls High. Short, dark brown hair is perfectly tousled, the guy's jawline is to die for, and his pretty green eyes sparkle with mirth the longer you stare. Your niece shrieks your name, you startle and glance at your phone to shush her, and then turn back to the guy who's still waiting for an answer. "Shit. Sorry. The table end is all yours."

He chuckles. "Thanks. I'm Stefan, by the way.

"Y/N," you mumble, more than a little embarrassed.

"And I'm Kaywie!"

Your lips twitch as you glance once more at your phone, narrowing your eyes on your niece who's face is practically pressed to your sister's phone as she gets a good look at you and Stefan who's still standing behind you. He waves and your nieces beams. "For some reason her L's get turned into W's. Her name is actually Kaylie," you say, feeling the need to explain.

"Well hello, Kaylie. It's nice to meet you." Stefan waves again and your heart melts a little at his actions.

He moves to take his seat and you turn your attention back on your niece, lowering the volume now that there's someone else at the table with you. As Stefan digs into his own lunch and gets distracted by his own phone, you start eating once more and oohing and awwing at the various dolls she starts to name.

"Okay, KG, it's almost time for me to go back to class so we're going to have to hang up now."

"Nooo," she whines. "Y/N, I wanna tawk to you."

"I know you do, tiny terror, but I really have to go. I'll see you after school. Okay? You can come with grandpa when he picks me up."

It takes a moment, but she finally relents. "Okay.. but I wanna see Stefan again."

"W-What?" You stammer. Glancing at the boy in question, you see him collecting his trash before staring at you in amusement. Then glancing at your phone, you say, "What do you mean you wanna see Stefan? How'd you even remember he was here?"

"To tell him goodbye, siwwy."

"Jesus Christ. This kid has a better memory than I do sometimes." Stefan snorts and you look at him with a guilty expression. "Do you mind? If I don't show you to her, she'll cry."

"No. It's totally fine. She's adorable."

"Pft. You say that now," you mumble. Sliding your phone over to Stefan, you quickly collect your own trash as he gives his own goodbye. Then when you have your phone in hand, you blow her a kiss. "See you later, KG. I really have to go now."

"'Kay, Y/N. Wove you!"

"Love you, too. Bye."

As soon as you hang up, you look to Stefan. "I am so sorry! She just likes talking to new people, especially if she thinks they're my friend and-"

"It's no problem. Really," Stefan smiles. "I've never had a little kid interested in me. It's very good for one's ego." You snort, but feel like a weight's been lifted off your shoulders when you realize you hadn't been a bother. "Sooo.. that was your niece?"

Seeing as everyone is finally gathering their trays to dump, you do the same and keep pace with Stefan when you see he’s waiting for you. "Yeah. My sister and dad babysit her while my brother and his wife work. She was there this morning when I was leaving for school and was very upset when she couldn't come with me. Telling her I'd facetime her during my lunch hour was the only way to get her to stop crying."

"You two must be close."

You shrug. "I'm the aunt with all the cool gadgets and games. Of course I'm her favorite." As you near the trash cans, the both of you dump your trays before leaving them aside on the designated table. Then as you head for the exit, you flash him a feeble smile. "Well.. thank you," you chuckle nervously. "This was a first for me- meeting a stranger for the first time and making him converse with my niece."

Stefan grins. "It was an amusing lunch hour I'll give you that."

"Well I better get to class," you say, gesturing to the opposite direction he seemed to be inching towards. "See you around, Stefan."

The rest of the day passes in a blur and you're surprised to find Stefan in your last class. With him are two females- a brunette and a blonde- and the brunette doesn't seem too impressed when Stefan warmly greets you before introducing you to them. The blonde- Caroline- eagerly commented on your shoes whereas the brunette- Elena- smiled tightly before dragging her friend's attention back on her. Sighing, you take a seat as far from them as possible and grin at Stefan when he smiles apologetically.

Your first two weeks at Mystic Falls High is a fairly easy transition and it's only made easier thanks to Stefan. He introduces you to his other friends, Matt and Bonnie, and they help you memorize where your classes are located. They even join you every other day for lunch and Bonnie just so happens to be there one of the day's Kaylie facetimes you. When she happily greets you and Stefan, Bonnie doesn't stop cooing for the rest of the day after meeting your niece for herself over the phone. Yet another stranger immediately fell for your niece's adorableness.

Then one evening when your brother and his wife go to an out-of-town concert, your niece stays behind and wants to tag along when she hears you talking about getting food. She wants food too and being helpless to her adorableness you take her with you when you decide to check out Mystic Grill.

You sit in a booth and are grateful when Matt walks over with a booster seat for Kaylie, and then quickly place an order for the cheeseburger special and a plate of chicken fingers for your niece. As you're waiting for your food, you see and hear your niece get excited over something she sees. Following her gaze, you can't help but smile when you see a couple familiar faces beaming back.

Stefan and Bonnie soon make their way to your table, and you gesture for them to sit across from you. "Hey, guys. What are you up to?"

"Hi, Stef'n. Bonnie." Kaylie excitedly greets.

"Hey, KG. You're looking mighty precious today." Bonnie reaches across the table and tugs on your niece's pigtail. "You being good?"

"Yeah. Y/N got me chick'n."

"That's awesome! You have got yourself one cool aunt there."

Kaylie giggles and you roll your eyes, meeting Stefan's amused gaze. "We're waiting on Caroline, Elena, and my brother," he says.

"Ahh," you muse. "Does Elena still hate me?"

"She doesn't.. hate you," Bonnie then says, cringing.

"She does," you chuckle. "I mean I get it. Sort of. Not really," you settle on saying. "But it is what it is. I can't force someone to like me."

"She'll get over it," Stefan assures you. "How can she not? You're a pretty fun person."

You scoff. "Please. You were practically forced to be my friend because KG saw you and it was love at first sight for her."

Bonnie snorts and Stefan only smiles wide in response before he glances at Kaylie who's now too busy scribbling on a child's menu with Bonnie. Your food is then brought to the table and you mouth 'thank you' at Bonnie who takes it upon herself to cut up Kaylie's chicken for her. They decline ordering food since they're waiting for the others, and then the others in question are showing up and Kaylie screeches.

"Carowine! Weena!"

The dark haired, blue eyed guy with them smirks. "Weena?"

"She can't say Elena," Elena grins, winking at your niece. "She has trouble with her L's."

And though Elena isn't your biggest fan, you're grateful that her dislike for you didn't rub off on Kaylie. Just like everyone else, Elena was as fond of the four year old as your other friends were.

"Hi. Name's Damon. Stefanie's older, much sexier brother."

At his smirk, your nose wrinkles and you take the biggest bite of your burger you can. With a mouth full of food, you mumble, "Charming." Then looking at Caroline, you nod and swallow your bite. "Hey, Caroline. Good night?"

"Eh." She shrugs. "Could have gone better. I'd much have rather been here than with Damon."

"Y/N." Kaylie tugs you shirt sleeve.

"Yes, ma'am?"

"He's pretty."

You glance at Damon and roll your eyes as he preens under your niece's pointed gesture, and everyone around the table groans. "KG, no," Bonnie complains. "Boys like Damon are the ones you need to stay away from, not call them pretty."

"Girl, we have a lot to teach you," Caroline then says. Damon’s expression turns to one of being offended, but his little grin clues you in to that fact that he's really not.

"Well this has been fun, but I'm pretty sure we're still years away until we have to warn Kaylie about boys. Right, KG?" Your niece hums and then shoves a fry into her mouth and you smother a smile as you look back to your friends. "And I'm sure you guys all want to order your own food and chat, sooo.."

"Right. Yeah," Bonnie says, already pushing Stefan out of the booth. "We'll see you tomorrow at school."

"Uh huh. Bye, guys."

"Bye!" Kaylie then says.

Life in Mystic Falls is going great, so of course things take a turn for the worse just when you're at your happiest.

You're picking up dinner for the family when it happens. Arms full of takeout bags and making your way towards your car, the world around you suddenly blurs for a moment as a sudden grip on the back of your neck yanks you to the side. You end up being slammed against the wall in what appears to be an alley and then some maniac is hissing and sinking his teeth into the side of your neck.

Screaming, you struggle to get the stranger off and give a cry of relief when his weight suddenly disappears from you. Clamping your hand over the side of your neck, you manage to get your bearings just in time to see Stefan pinning the stranger to the opposite wall with one hand.. several feet off the ground. Stefan then slams a piece of sharpened wood into the man's chest and you yelp when Stefan drops him without a single care.

"S-Stefan? What did you just do?" You breathe in shocked awe.

Stefan's shoulders hunch and he keeps his face pointed away. "You're bleeding. You need to go."

Your hand comes away from your neck and you gag at the blood coating it. Covering the wound back up, you stumble forward. "What? I-"

"Now, Y/N! Go now."

"I don't understand," you sniffle. "He just- and you just-"

"Please just go," he murmurs. "The smell-"

"The smell? What smell? Stefan, what's going on?" Stopping just to the side of him, you notice how he keeps his face pointed away. Confused, you reach in and gently grasp his chin to turn him towards you. He resists for a moment before relenting, and you gasp at what you see. The whites of his eyes are dark red and dark veins pulse beneath his eyes. "What are you?" He cringes and steps out of your grasp, and you shake your head clear as you step back. "No. Don't answer that. I don't- I don't wanna know."

"Y/N-"

"No, Stefan, it's fine. I mean it's not, but whatever," you mumble. "I'm just- I'm gonna go home and probably have a good cry in the shower, and I won't- I won't say anything so you don't have to worry."

"Y/N-"

"What, Stefan?" Whirling around, you keep your gaze averted and bite the inside of your cheek to keep from crying. "I just wanna go home."

"..I'm sorry."

A glass bottle rolls somewhere in the alley and the space where Stefan was standing is now empty, as well as the body he had dropped. Tears quickly gather once more in your eyes and you hastily wipe them away with the backs of your hands before rushing out of the alley and towards your car once you realize you had only been on the side of Mystic Grill. The bags of food you had are still lying by your car, so you quickly salvage what you can before climbing into your car and leaving.

And then once you get home, there's a small sink area in the garage that you quickly clean up at and put your hair down to hide the wound on your neck before going inside. Seeing how crumpled the bags look and realizing some of the food is missing, you sheepishly make up a lie about tripping over the bumper blocks in the parking lot and losing some of the food. Your dad waves it off and orders in a couple of pizzas, and you quietly eat your fill before disappearing upstairs.

Then once in the safety of your shower with some music playing at a decent level, you step into the cubicle with the water as hot as you can take it. It stings against the bite wound on your neck, but you manage to wash off and rinse out the wound. You stay under the hot spray as your mind works a mile a minute to figure out just what the hell happened earlier tonight.

The biting, the blood, the wooden stake.. the pieces seem to fit one specific puzzle, but it's something that leaves you reeling. What you're thinking shouldn't be real! But then Stefan showed some impressive strength, his eyes were totally weird, and the smell of your blood unsettled him. Not to mention he was impossibly fast.

Your back hits the warm tile wall and slide down until you're hugging your bent knees to your chest. "For fuck's sake," you mumble. "He totally Edward Cullen'd me."

Having skipped the following day of school to physically and mentally take care of yourself, you're not surprised when you're ambushed by your friends. You are surprised to know that Stefan told them everything and that they'd known about his secret, and even more surprised when they offer to tell you everything. For once Elena doesn't seem cold with you and even asks how you're holding up, so you answer as politely and honestly as you can.

"I'm good. I'm still kind of reeling over the fact that Stefan Cullen'd me, but that's his secret or whatever. I really don't want to know any more than I already do."

"But we want to tell you. I need to tell you," Caroline says and then proceeds to tell her story and how she'd become a vampire herself. Elena too.

Everyone has been through so much and you're not at all offended to learn that the reason Elena didn't take to you right away was because she didn't trust someone as nice as you came off, and that you'd been close to Stefan from the immediate start. Bonnie and Caroline teased her for a bit over that since she was seeing Stefan's brother Damon, and then you were sent reeling once again when Bonnie admitted to being a witch.

"Holy shit. Did you guys have to dump all this information on me at school? We really should have skipped for this."

"We'll take off after lunch," Caroline says, shrugging. "Stefan's moping at the Boarding House and we need you to get him out of his funk."

"Sure. Why not?" You muse.

Getting Stefan to come around is far easier than anyone anticipated, especially after you picked up your niece from your sister. He had seemed shocked when you all trooped into his room and then gobsmacked when you settled Kaylie onto his bed next to him.

"Suck it up, buttercup. The girls gave me the 411. We're all good." Kaylie seemed over the moon with the location change and started talking nonsense to Stefan as everyone settled down, and you smiled in a reassuring manner at him. "Seriously, Salvatore. It's fine."

"But I'm a monster. And you have a four year old crawling all over me."

"If you were a monster, you wouldn't have saved me," you told him. "If you were a monster, you would have sunk your teeth into my neck when the scent of my blood hit your nose. But you didn't."

"I could have."

"I know. But like I said, you didn't. That makes all the difference."

The entire time in Stefan's bedroom was rather intense, but he was eventually wore down. He ended up going back to school and lowering his guard around you, and the entire student population seemed relieved that you and Stefan weren't on the outs anymore. Apparently everyone had thought Stefan had bagged the new girl and had somehow managed to mess it all up, something which your group of friends found hilarious since you and Stefan were oblivious to the fact that there were some serious vibes between the two of you.

Damon had then entered the room and deemed you as his new favorite person when you wrinkled your nose and sighed, "I'm totally Bella Swan. Fuck my life."

Sitting on the porch steps in front of your home, you're scrolling through social media when you hear footsteps approaching. Glancing up, you smile as you see Stefan come to a stop, his hands tucked into the front pockets of his jeans.

"There you are. It feels like I haven't seen you in forever."

"Well you did say you didn't want to be involved in any of our vampire shenanigans."

"Can you blame me?" You laugh, scooting over and patting the spot next to you. "I got a niece who's attached to my hip most days and as much as I like you guys, I rather not be in the same place as the villain of the month when I got KG with me. I might not be involved, but Bonnie's constantly keeping me updated so I know where not to be."

"Speaking of KG," he muses, sitting down next to you. "Damon sends his apologies."

Laughing, you shrug. "Caroline told me about that. They staked a vampire right before my sister-in-law rounded the corner. He told her his friend was blacked out drunk and my in-law thought he was a creep until KG called him and Caroline by name."

"Damon was actually afraid he traumatized KG, so there's a new tablet and a few educational games at our house for her."

"Oh no. He doesn't have to do that."

"Let him. Please," Stefan huffs. "It's been a long while since my brother was genuinely fond of someone that he wasn't sleeping with."

Your soft laughter turns into full belly laughs and Stefan watches as you lay back on the porch, you then draping one arm over your face. "What even is my life? Not only am I friends with vampires and a witch, but said vampires and witch are totally wrapped around a four year old's finger. I should have freaked out more than I did."

"Admit it. It was my boyish good looks that kept you around."

Snorting, you remove your arm from over your face and meet Stefan's amused gaze. Instead of denying it, you shrug. "I thought you were hot before I found out about the fangs. And if I'm being completely honest, I've got a personal kink for pointy teeth. It wasn't that hard of a decision after I figured out how to bandage my neck."

Stefan laughs and reaches for your hand, he then pulling you up with him as he stands. "I blame your Twilight phase."

You gasp. "It was not a phase." Then standing side by side, you try to prevent the oncoming blush as Stefan doesn't release your hand. Instead he slowly fits his fingers between yours. Your eyes narrow as his grin broadens into a smirk. "I just.. read the books."

"And watched the movies?"

"You know I did. You saw the evidence in our DVD collection."

Stefan laughs, squeezing your hand gently. "Come on. Lets go find that niece of yours and take her out to eat before surprising Damon with her."

"You know you being all sorts of adorable and doting on KG only makes me that much more attracted to you, right?"

"Caroline might have mentioned something about ovaries exploding whenever KG starts climbing all over me."

"Well," you drawl. "She's not wrong." Chuckling, you start down the steps and drag Stefan with you. "Now lets go. I'm kind of hungry myself."

Tag list: @ravenmoore14

#fanficimagery #stefan x reader #stefan salvatore imagine #the vampire diaries imagine #tvd imagine #stefan salvatore #bonnie bennett #caroline forbes #elena gilbert #damon salvatore #imagine

563 notes · View notes